Eryon clenched his teeth and forced his mind to move.
The unknown skill made no sense. The system didn't hand out gifts for free—much less something that didn't even display a name or a rank. There had to be a condition, a trigger… something he had done in that final moment.
I was dying… he thought. No— I was already dead.
He remembered the sensation with sickening clarity: his body torn apart, blood spilling uncontrollably, the absolute certainty that there was no escape. What drove him then wasn't courage, nor hope. It was something darker—hatred, denial, a visceral refusal to accept that ending.
Maybe…
Maybe the system had reacted to that.
Or maybe the tower had simply mocked him one more time.
A soft sound interrupted his thoughts.
Chap…
Water shifting.
Eryon froze instantly. His entire body tensed, even before he fully processed what he'd heard. The swamp was a graveyard of deceptive noises, and learning that lesson had nearly cost him his life more than once.
Chap… slosh…
Closer.
He stopped thinking about the system. Stopped thinking about the skill. With effort, he dug one hand into the mud and, breathing in ragged gasps, pushed himself up until he was half-sitting. The movement tore a low groan from his throat, but he clenched his jaw and lifted his gaze toward the source of the sound.
Something small slowly emerged from the murky water.
It was about the size of a household pet—maybe a large cat. Its body was elongated, covered in wet, dark, hairless skin. It had the shape of a rat, but irregular scales clung to its back, and its tail was flattened like a fish's. Its bulging, yellowish eyes fixed on him with unsettling focus.
The creature froze for a moment.
It sniffed the air.
Eryon held his breath.
He was injured. Exhausted. Slow. And it knew it. In the swamp, being weak was the same as wearing an invisible sign that read easy prey.
The small monster seemed to make a decision.
It leapt fully out of the water in an awkward jump, mud dripping from its body—and then suddenly… it rushed at him with a sharp, grating screech.
Shit…! Eryon barely had time to think.
There was no time to analyze, no time to look for a nonexistent weapon, no time to curse his luck.
The creature pushed off the ground, opening a mouth far too large for its size, packed with thin, serrated teeth, and launched itself straight at him.
Eryon reacted on pure instinct.
As the thing leapt for his face, he raised his arm without thinking, thrusting it between his eyes and that filthy mouth. The impact was immediate.
"Gh—!"
The animal's jaws clamped down hard around his forearm. The thin teeth sank into flesh, piercing skin and muscle. The pain was sharp and piercing, so real it stole his breath for a heartbeat.
Eryon let out a low, choked groan as the creature's weight shoved him backward. He felt warm blood running down his arm, mixing with the mud.
He couldn't let it reach his face.He couldn't afford to lose another limb.
Grinding his teeth in fury, he activated his skill.
Comprehensive Physical Reinforcement.
He didn't know how much it could help with a body this broken and exhausted, but he had no other choice.
A familiar sensation—though weakened—spread through him. It wasn't an explosion of power, but something subtler, like the crushing weight pressing down on him had lightened just a little. His muscles still hurt, but they no longer felt dead.
"Get… off!" he growled through clenched teeth.
With his uninjured arm, he wrapped his hand around the creature's neck. Its wet, slippery skin felt disgusting beneath his fingers, but Eryon didn't loosen his grip. He squeezed with everything he had, muscles straining to their limit, ignoring the burning pain flaring up his bitten forearm.
The thing thrashed, clawed, shrieked with a sharp, desperate sound.
Eryon kept squeezing.
Harder.More.
Until—
CRACK.
A dry, unmistakable sound split the air.
The animal's body went rigid all at once. The screech cut off as if someone had flipped a switch.
He released his grip, and the creature dropped into the mud with a soft, wet thud, completely lifeless.
For a few seconds, Eryon could only stay there, breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling unevenly. Then he let out a trembling breath and lowered his gaze to his forearm.
The wound was ugly.
Fresh blood streamed down his skin, dripping without pause. Deep bite marks deformed the flesh, and the arm throbbed with every heartbeat.
Eryon closed his eyes for a moment.
Since arriving in this damned place… all he'd done was bleed.
He hadn't even finished that thought when something else came.
A splash.
Then another.
And another.
Eryon's eyes snapped open.
Wet, rapid sounds came from every direction. The mud beneath him vibrated faintly, as if the entire swamp had awakened.
His heart lurched.
When he looked up, the scene hit him with brutal force: creatures identical to the one he had just killed were emerging from the murky water, one after another. Elongated snouts, glassy eyes, twisted bodies somewhere between rat and fish.
He had been surrounded.
There wasn't even time to curse.
They all lunged at once.
Eryon moved on reflex. He dodged the first by inches, feeling air split by snapping teeth. He grabbed the second by the neck and twisted with all his strength, using it as an improvised shield as another bite slammed into his body with a wet, sickening sound.
The impact ripped a grunt from his throat.
He staggered back, slipping in the mud, breathing unevenly. He tried to count them, but it was useless.
There were many.
More than ten, for sure.
Maybe more.
In the middle of the chaos, a short, dry laugh escaped his throat.
Eryon smiled bitterly at himself.
"Of course…" he murmured, almost mocking. "It had to be like this."
Thanks to his Rank B skill, he could move, dodge, strike. His body responded—but not for long. Every second meant more blood lost, strength that would never return.
It was only a matter of time before they tore him apart.
The irony faded quickly.
It was replaced by something hotter.
Darker.
Rage.
Pure fury—not just at the creatures surrounding him, but at the tower, at the swamp, at this unfair world that had taken so much from him and still tried to rip away the last thing he had left.
Eryon clenched his teeth, eyes burning as he lowered himself into a precarious but determined stance.
If he was going to die here…
It wouldn't be without a fight.
He stopped thinking and just fought.
He charged forward with a harsh roar, using his body as a weapon. His fist smashed into the soft skull of a creature; he felt it give, felt something break, but he didn't stop. He twisted his torso and drove his elbow into another open snout, tearing out a shrill screech before the thing collapsed into the mud.
There was no technique.No elegance.
It was a savage fight.
Knees to chests, clumsy kicks fueled by desperation, brutal shoves to buy one more second of air. When a creature latched onto his leg, Eryon dropped onto it and slammed its head into the muddy ground again and again until it stopped moving.
His breathing became an animal pant.
At one point, one of them leapt for his throat. Eryon reacted too late; teeth grazed his neck. Without thinking, he bit back. He bit with rage, with hatred, with revulsion. He felt rotten flesh between his teeth, bitter blood flooding his mouth, but the creature shrieked and pulled away.
He spat, trembling.
And kept going.
Even when his injured arm no longer responded, he used it. He swung it like a useless club, striking with the shattered forearm, ignoring the stabbing pain shooting straight into his brain. Every impact was agony—but also defiance: not yet.
The mud was littered with twisted bodies.
Five.Maybe six.
Eryon wasn't sure.
It didn't matter.
The fight wasn't ending.
More creatures kept coming, crawling from the greenish water, from behind rotting trees. Every second was a trade: one death for another wound.
Deep scratches across his torso. Bites in his thighs. A fang pierced his side and tore free, ripping flesh with it. Blood poured uncontrollably, hot, slicking his skin and mixing with the sludge.
His vision began to shake.
Sounds distorted.
Still, Eryon kept moving, driven by something no longer limited to survival. It was wounded pride. Accumulated fury. An absolute refusal to fall like a cornered animal without leaving scars on the world.
He struck.Fell.Got back up.Struck again.
But his body was reaching its limit.
And the swamp—patient and cruel—seemed ready to collect every debt with interest.
His strength vanished all at once.
Eryon felt it with terrifying clarity.
When he tried to throw the next punch, his arm simply didn't respond. The energy that had been flowing through his body died out, like a flame smothered without warning. His muscles, screaming with tension seconds earlier, became heavy, sluggish, useless.
His skill had deactivated.
Panic stabbed through him like ice.
"N-no…" he tried to say, but only air left his throat.
Desperate, he forced his mind, trying to activate it again. Focus. Will. Hatred. All at once.
Nothing.
The creatures didn't waste that instant.
They piled onto him.
Fangs sank into his shoulder, his side, his thigh. He felt flesh being torn away, felt something warm running over his skin in amounts he could no longer ignore. One clung to his back, another to his useless arm, another to his neck, biting without quite reaching his throat… yet.
Eryon dropped to his knees with a dull thud.
Mud splashed.
He was surrounded.
Creatures hung from him like parasites, shrieking and thrashing as they chewed. The pain was real, unbearable… but it was starting to feel distant, as if his body no longer fully belonged to him.
His vision blurred.
He stared into nothingness, beyond the swamp, beyond the gray sky.
Resigned.
Still, with what little he had left, he tried one last time.
Activate.
The response came.
But it wasn't the one he expected.
A translucent window appeared before him, flickering violently.
ERROR
ERROR
ERROR
Unable to activate skill
Invalid user
The window shook… and shut down abruptly.
For an instant, everything went silent.
Then—
A different sound echoed in his mind.
It wasn't the familiar sharp system chime. It was deeper. Slower. Colder.
Another window unfolded.
The text was different. Simpler. More authoritative.
Synchronizing with host…
Critical condition detected
Skill ??? responding to activation attempt of"Comprehensive Physical Reinforcement"
Evolution in progress
The fangs kept tearing into his flesh.The blood kept falling.
But Eryon no longer felt only fear.
As he stared at the system messages with glassy eyes and absolute confusion, something else awakened deep within him.
Something that did not belong to the tower's normal rules.
Something that, for the first time since everything began, seemed willing to answer him.