[North of Lirath]
"You piece of sht, you really enjoy wasting my time, don't you?"
The chubby boy with a youthful face shouted angrily.
"How about this? Either you stick that blade into that creature right now, or I will personally shove it up your ass myself."
He was Percival Langton, second son of Baron Langton, and Evan's master.
Wearing his sophisticated outfit, the chubby boy sat mounted on a horse while staring with a dissatisfied expression at the person in front of him.
The poor steed that had ended up bearing the weight of what was practically a small mountain of flesh on itself that day stood there with trembling legs that seemed on the verge of giving out at any moment, its strained expression full of exhaustion and regret for the cruel fate of ending up under the command of such a person.
But he was not the only one who thought so.
Evan had also been unlucky enough to end up under the command of such a person, and now he found himself trapped in this daily routine of torture and threats, where on one side he had to listen to the shrill voice of a little pig barking orders, and on the other he had to fight as if there were no tomorrow against the creatures of the Gray Stone Forest.
It was one of the forests that bordered thethe northern forests of Lirath, and also the largest and most dangerous in the area.
Shit, that fat b*stard is going to get me killed at this rate' Evan thought as he found himself facing what was a gray furred wolf, wounded but still with plenty of strength left, while it snarled at him with murderous intent.
If there was one thing Percival loved to do more than stuffing himself with food, it was torturing his slaves, and as luck would have it his "favorite" happened to be Evan.
Every weekend, he brought him along on his usual hunting trips into the forest to hunt, and that would have been fine if not for the fact that Evan was anything but a good fighter.
He had a thin and fragile build, the result of long years of malnutrition and abuse.
On top of that, he had never had the chance to learn how to fight or use weapons, which was why every time he went hunting with Percival he wondered if that would be his last day in this cruel world.
Filled with frustration over his situation and anger toward the obese noble, Evan tightened his grip on the hilt of the sword and made a desperate attempt to attack.
He might never have had the chance to learn how to fight properly, but he had learned something after all these hunting outings.
Seeing the human charge toward it, the furious gray wolf leapt toward him without hesitation.
It was an unawakened beast that roamed the outer areas of the Gray Stone Forest, and although it was one of the weakest creatures in the surroundings, it was still far from weak enough to be defeated by a small human like the one standing before it at that moment.
If not for the small group of guards around Percival who had wounded the wolf when it tried to assault their master, it would never have been in this situation.
With a quick burst of speed the wolf lunged at Evan, sinking its teeth into his shoulder.
A sharp, tearing pain shot through his head and arms, making every nerve in his body tremble. But Evan did not let panic take over; instead, he used that moment to gather all his strength.
With a trembling breath and his heart pounding wildly, he drove the sword into the wolf, striking it several times with desperate precision. Each blow drained him as much as the bite still burning in his shoulder, but Evan kept going, driven by fear and rage.
At last, the beast lay on the ground, exhausted and mortally wounded, its eyes fixed on Evan until its final breath. Evan himself was pushed to the limit: blood ran down from his shoulder, his body trembled from the wounds and the searing pain, and he could barely remain standing.
'Not yet,' he thought, trying to keep a grip on his consciousness as it desperately tried to slip away.
He had not endured all this torment for nothing. He could not faint now, at least not before finishing his prey.
Evan, his hands still stained with the beast's blood, raised the sword and stared at the wolf at his feet. Without hesitation, he brought it down hard, driving the blade straight into the animal's skull.
One last desperate howl escaped from the wolf's jaws before it fell motionless. With it, even the last scraps of energy that had kept Evan on his feet vanished, pain and exhaustion overwhelmed him, and he collapsed to the ground.
But just as his consciousness began to fade, a calm, mechanical voice echoed in his mind:
DING!
[You have killed an Unawakened (Early-Stage) Wild Wolf.]
[You have gained +10 ESS]
DING!
[You have reached 100% Essence]
[You have reached the maximum Essence limit for your current rank, processing...]
[Awakening process initializing...]
DING!
[You have awakened successfully]
[Congratulations, you have met the minimum strength requirements to awaken your first clone]
A shiver ran through Evan's entire body, from head to toe, and soon he felt a new presence, hidden yet alive, beginning to form inside him.
This presence gradually grew clearer and more defined until it was almost complete, but Evan did not have the luxury of witnessing it, for by this point he had already passed out.