Eli did not wait until morning.
The decision had already been made the moment he left the old man's stall. Delaying it would not make the task easier. It would only waste time—and time, in this case, was something he could use.
The light had begun to shift, the sun lowering just enough to soften the intensity of the day without fully giving way to evening. It wasn't ideal.
But it was usable.
And for what he intended—
That was enough.
—
He returned home briefly.
Not to rest.
But to prepare.
The moment he stepped inside, he moved with quiet efficiency. His movements were controlled, deliberate, each action tied directly to purpose. He retrieved his sword first, testing its weight again—not because he had forgotten, but because he needed to reaffirm its limits.
The flaws were still there.
Unchanged.
That was fine.
For now—
It only needed to last.
He adjusted the grip slightly, reinforcing it with a tighter wrap. Not a permanent solution. But enough to prevent failure under repeated strain.
Next—
Clothing.
He removed the outer layer he had worn earlier and replaced it with something more fitted, less likely to catch or restrict movement. Durability mattered now more than comfort.
Everything had a reason.
Everything had a role.
—
When he stepped back outside, the air felt cooler.
The city had begun its gradual shift toward evening, but it was still active enough that his movement didn't draw attention.
Good.
He didn't need it.
—
The path to the forest felt shorter this time.
Not because the distance had changed.
But because his focus had.
There was no hesitation in his steps.
No distraction.
Only direction.
—
He crossed the outer boundary without slowing.
The transition from city to forest came as it had before—subtle, but immediate in effect. The air shifted. The sounds changed. The natural rhythm of the environment replaced the structured noise of human movement.
Eli adjusted instantly.
His pace slowed.
His breathing steadied.
His awareness expanded outward.
—
This was not training.
This was hunting.
—
The difference mattered.
—
He did not move toward the deeper territory immediately.
That would have been inefficient.
Instead, he angled slightly, following a path that ran parallel to the forest's inner edge. Not too shallow.
Not too deep.
A controlled zone.
Where creatures were strong enough to produce usable cores—
But not so strong that prolonged engagement would risk failure.
—
His mind worked through it with clarity.
He would not collect everything at once.
That was unrealistic.
Instead—
He would take what he could.
Evaluate.
Adapt.
Continue.
—
The first sign came within minutes.
A low rustling through the undergrowth.
Not subtle.
Not hidden.
This one wasn't stalking.
It was moving openly.
—
Eli slowed.
Then stopped.
—
His eyes tracked the movement before the creature fully revealed itself.
—
It emerged from between two trees, its body pushing through the brush with controlled force rather than speed. Larger than the earlier ones he had faced that day—broader frame, thicker limbs, its structure built for strength rather than agility.
Its head lifted slightly as it noticed him.
No hesitation.
No pause.
—
Eli adjusted his stance.
Not aggressive.
But ready.
—
The creature stepped forward.
Slow.
Measured.
—
It was testing him.
—
Eli didn't move.
—
The distance between them closed gradually, each step deliberate on both sides. The tension built not from speed—but from anticipation.
—
Then—
The creature lunged.
—
Fast.
Far faster than its size suggested.
—
Eli reacted instantly.
His blade came up, intercepting the attack at an angle that redirected the force instead of stopping it. Even so, the impact carried weight—pushing through his stance and forcing him to step back once to stabilize.
Stronger than the earlier ones.
—
Good.
—
The creature didn't stop.
It followed through immediately, its second strike coming in a wide arc aimed to overwhelm rather than precision-strike.
—
Eli shifted.
Not fully avoiding—
But minimizing.
The edge of the strike clipped his side, enough to register—but not enough to disrupt his balance.
—
He stepped in.
—
That mattered.
—
Closing the distance reduced the creature's ability to generate full force. Its movements became tighter, more constrained.
—
Eli's counter came fast.
A short, controlled strike aimed not at the center—but at the joint where movement would be most affected.
—
The blade connected.
—
The creature reacted instantly, its posture shifting as it adjusted for the damage. Not disabled—but affected.
—
Eli pressed.
—
Not recklessly.
But continuously.
—
Each strike flowed into the next, forcing the creature to respond instead of act. Its strength was still there—but its control had been disrupted.
—
It lashed out again.
—
Eli read it.
—
Not perfectly.
But enough.
—
He stepped through the attack instead of away from it, letting the force pass behind him as his own strike moved forward.
—
This time—
Deeper.
—
The creature staggered.
—
Eli didn't stop.
—
The final strike came immediately after.
Clean.
Direct.
—
The creature collapsed.
—
Silence returned.
—
Eli stood still.
Not out of caution.
But out of assessment.
—
His breathing had elevated—but not broken.
His stance remained stable.
His grip—steady.
—
Good.
—
He stepped forward.
—
The body lay still.
—
Now—
The second part.
—
Eli crouched slightly, studying the creature more closely.
The core would not be visible.
Not externally.
—
He adjusted his grip on the sword.
Then—
With controlled precision—
He cut.
—
Not randomly.
Not excessively.
—
A clean incision.
—
He searched.
—
It took a moment.
—
Then—
He found it.
—
A small, dull crystal embedded within the creature's structure. Not large. Not refined. But present.
—
Eli removed it carefully.
Held it in his hand.
—
It felt—
Different.
—
Not powerful.
But—
Real.
—
He studied it briefly.
Then secured it.
—
One.
—
Not enough.
—
But a start.
—
Eli stood again.
His body remained stable.
His breathing controlled.
—
He looked deeper into the forest.
—
There was more.
—
But now—
He understood the process.
—
Each fight—
Each core—
Each step forward.
—
This would not end quickly.
—
And that was fine.
—
Because this time—
He wasn't just fighting to survive.
—
He was building something.
—
One piece at a time.
—
Eli adjusted his grip on the sword.
—
Then moved forward again.