The bone wolf moved like a broken puppet pulled by invisible strings, its joints clicking with every step. Red light burned inside its empty eye sockets, fixed on Arka like twin embers waiting to flare into a blaze.
Arka forced himself to stand. His legs trembled. Not from fear alone, but from the weakness that still lingered in his body. Hours ago, he had possessed enough spiritual power to flatten boulders with a casual strike. Now, even lifting his arms felt like dragging chains through mud.
The translucent screen hovered in front of him.
[First mission: Survive until dawn.]
[Reward: Cultivation Technique – Formless Shadow.]
"That's it?" he muttered. "No weapon? No strength? Just… survive?"
The wolf let out a low, rattling growl and lunged.
Arka barely managed to roll to the side. The creature's jaws snapped shut where his neck had been a heartbeat earlier. He felt the rush of air as bone teeth clashed together with a sharp crack.
He scrambled backward, heart pounding. The ground was slick with mud and moss. His fingers brushed against something hard—a broken stone shard from the ruins.
Not much. But better than bare hands.
He grabbed it just as the wolf turned for another attack.
"Come on then," Arka whispered, though his voice carried more tension than confidence.
The wolf leaped again, faster this time. Its skeletal claws scraped across the stone floor, sending sparks into the mist.
Arka didn't try to dodge completely. Instead, he twisted his body just enough to avoid the bite and drove the jagged stone into the wolf's eye socket.
Crack.
The shard sank into brittle bone. The wolf recoiled, thrashing wildly. One of its claws raked across Arka's shoulder, tearing his robe and leaving a burning cut beneath.
He gritted his teeth and held on. "Stay down!"
With a desperate shove, he pushed the shard deeper. The bone around the eye split apart, and a puff of dark mist leaked from the creature's skull.
The wolf staggered, its movements growing erratic. It snapped blindly at the air, then collapsed into a heap of scattered bones.
Silence returned to the ruins.
Arka dropped to his knees, gasping for breath. His shoulder throbbed, and warm blood trickled down his arm. But he was alive.
A faint glow rose from the broken skeleton. Threads of dark energy drifted toward him, like smoke drawn into a hidden vent.
They sank into his chest.
The system screen flickered.
[Shadow energy absorbed: 6 units.]
[Condition improving.]
Arka felt a subtle warmth spread through his body. Not the blazing heat of spiritual Qi, but something cooler, deeper—like standing beneath a night sky and feeling the quiet weight of it settle into his bones.
"So this is… shadow energy," he murmured.
Another message appeared.
[New technique available.]
[Formless Shadow – basic level.]
[Would you like to learn it?]
"Yes," he said without hesitation.
The screen dissolved into streaks of dark light that shot toward his forehead. A flood of information poured into his mind—strange breathing patterns, silent steps, the sensation of blending into darkness instead of fighting it.
Arka clenched his fists as the knowledge settled inside him.
It wasn't overwhelming. It felt… natural. As if the technique had always been meant for him.
He stood slowly and tested his footing. When he took a step, it made almost no sound. Even the rustle of his clothes seemed muted.
A faint, incredulous smile touched his lips.
"So it's true. I really do have a second chance."
The smile faded as he looked around the valley.
The mist hadn't cleared. If anything, it felt thicker now. Shapes moved faintly in the distance—too large to be wolves, too slow to be the wind.
This place was far from safe.
He glanced at the system again. The mission still remained.
[Survive until dawn.]
Arka exhaled slowly. "Then I guess I'd better find somewhere to hide."
He moved deeper into the ruins, his steps quieter than before. The broken pillars and collapsed walls formed a maze of stone shadows. Perfect cover.
As he slipped behind a half-fallen archway, he noticed something strange. The darkness around him felt… welcoming. It didn't press against his skin like before. Instead, it seemed to wrap around him, concealing him from the outside world.
For the first time since his exile, Arka felt a flicker of confidence.
The clan had thrown him into the valley to die.
But the valley had given him something else.
A path.
He leaned against the cold stone, eyes scanning the misty landscape. Somewhere out there, more creatures waited. More dangers. More trials.
And with each one he survived, he would grow stronger.
Arka closed his eyes briefly, remembering the altar, the fading letters of his name, the satisfied look in Rivan's eyes.
"When I return," he whispered into the darkness, "none of you will recognize the person standing at your gate."
In the distance, another howl echoed through the valley.
Arka opened his eyes, and the shadows around him seemed to stir in response.