The meat of the Shadow Stalker was tough, stringy, and tasted faintly of ozone and rot, but as Zeke chewed it over a small, smokeless fire he had built in the crook of a high branch, he felt his Mana Heart pulse with renewed vigor.
Below him, the remnants of Saint Jude's were a mess of tears and whispered arguments. They were splitting into factions. Marcus was trying to maintain a "democracy," while a few of the more athletic students were already talking about stealing the remaining food and striking out on their own.
Zeke didn't care about their politics. He was focused on the system screen that was still flickering in his peripheral vision.
{NOTICE: YOU HAVE CONSUMED THE FLESH OF A MANA-RICH CREATURE.}
{TEMPORARY REGENERATION BUFF APPLIED: +2 CONSTITUTION FOR 2 HOURS.}
"Efficient," Zeke muttered. Everything in this world was a resource. Even the "fodder" below him were resources—they were distractions that kept the smaller predators occupied while he hunted the larger ones.
He stood up, his 20 Agility allowing him to balance perfectly on a branch no wider than his palm. He needed to find out more about Sector 7. If this was just the "Weeding Grounds," what lay beyond?
He began to move, leaping from tree to tree with a silence that would have been impossible for any human only twelve hours ago. The forest was changing. The trees were getting taller, their obsidian bark etched with glowing runes that seemed to pulse in time with the Mana Heart in his chest.
Suddenly, Zeke stopped. His Intelligence stat (23) picked up a discordance in the air—a sound that wasn't the guttural growl of a monster or the whimpering of a student. It was a rhythmic, industrial thrumming. The smell of charcoal and sulfur began to replace the scent of rotting mulch.
He moved toward the sound, staying high in the canopy.
He pushed through a final layer of bioluminescent leaves and froze. The obsidian forest didn't just end; it had been cleared away with violent precision.
In the valley below lay a sprawling fortress of mud, iron, and bone. Thousands of Goblins swarmed like ants, but these weren't the disorganized scouts he had seen earlier. They wore scraps of armor and carried forged weapons. Massive bonfires illuminated crude banners painted in blood.
In the center of the camp, a jagged mountain of rusted metal rose toward the bruised sky. At its peak sat a throne made of broken swords.
{LOCATION DISCOVERED: THE GOBLIN KINGDOM}
{WARNING: YOU ARE ENTERING A HIGH-THREAT BOSS ZONE.}
{MISSION UPDATE: SURVIVAL IS THE MINIMUM REQUIREMENT. CONQUEST IS THE HIGHER PATH.}
Zeke looked at the sea of yellow eyes below. There were thousands of them. In the center, a creature twice the size of a Shadow Stalker sat upon the throne, a massive great-axe resting against its knee.
{BOSS INSPECTION...}
{NAME: THE HOBGOBLIN KING}{RANK: RANK E - TIER 9}
Zeke's amber eyes glowed in the twilight. He was an E-1, facing an entire kingdom and a Tier 9 King. To any other student from Saint Jude's, this was a death sentence. To Zeke, it was the first time in his life he had felt truly awake.
He didn't run. He didn't hide. He began to calculate the wind speed, the patrol patterns of the guards, and the structural weaknesses of the mud-brick walls.
"Rank E-9," Zeke whispered, a cold, predatory grin spreading across his face. "Let's see how much experience a king is worth."