Sprinting rapidly through the forest he fully raised his guard up for any situations and scanned the area around him for any mana beasts.
"Damnit damnit, I need coins were are u damn beasts, am broke these few coins ain't gonna be enough,I need more!!".
Dodging between trees rapidly he navigate his way through the forest just a few kilometers away from the main road.
The scent of pine and damp earth filled his lungs. Light filtered through the canopy in broken shafts, turning the woods into a mosaic of gold and shadow. Birds took flight overhead as he cut through the terrain like a silver dart. Twigs snapped beneath his boots, leaves burst around him in flurries of green, but he didn't slow.
Then—
A flicker.
A chill down his spine.
Something is here.
His body reacted before his brain could catch up. A low sound like something cutting through the wind sounded growl through the silence like a warning.
He twisted to the side instinctively—
WHOOSH!
A blur of mottled gray and black streaked past where his head had been just milliseconds ago.
His boots skidded across dirt as he threw himself backward, crashing into a tree shoulder-first. Bark cracked. Pain lanced through his collarbone, sharp and hot.
"What the hell—!"
Across from him, a creature slowly uncoiled from the shadows.
It was lean, feline, and massive—about the size of a panther but bulkier across the shoulders. Its fur shimmered like a shadowy illusion, like it was never truly still. Each step it took seemed silent, deliberate. There were no claws extended, yet Alex knew they were there. It breathed silently through flared nostrils, eyes narrowed to obsidian slits.
His heartbeat thudded in his ears.
Then it clicked.
Nightshade Striker.
A stealth-type mana beast known for ambush tactics and pressure-point targeting. They were called assassins of the low-tier threes, infamous for blending into mana-rich environments like this one. According to the handbook Keira had spared him, they only showed themselves after failing their first kill and they only appear at night.
"You've got to be kidding me," Alex muttered, his mouth dry, only noticing now that it's dark.
He reached slowly toward his side, pulling a thin dagger made of condensed obsidian steel—a backup tool, a hunters knife,nothing more.
"Really wish I had a sword right now"
His body's trembling… Am I scared?
No. Not exactly. His instincts were blazing with urgency, his senses tuned sharp. But it wasn't fear—
This was the second time he felt like this
It's the thrill.
His breath deepened. The beast stepped forward, silent as dusk.
Alex could feel it now. The mana signature. Subtle. Fluid. A graceful predator. It pulsed like a heartbeat made of shadow.
His feet shifted, taking stance. He let his body fall into motion, years of physical training aligning with his enhanced reflexes.
It's fast. Strong. But it's surely beatable.
The beast struck again.
In a blur, it vanished from its position. The air shimmered, and Alex caught the movement only by the ripple it left in the ambient mana.
Disappeared!!?
His eyes widened as the beast reappeared mid-air—already descending with claws extended toward his neck.
Too fast—
He blinked. His left foot planted backward. Space around him rippled faintly.
He ducked low, the claws whistling past his hair.
He rolled.
Came up with a snarl on his lips, lunging forward with his dagger. It nicked the beast's side.drawing a thin red line at the side.
The Nightshade Striker hissed. It backed off, its shadowy form breaking completely under the pain.
Alex stood, chest heaving, sweat trailing down the side of his face.
It bleeds. Nice. That's means it's can still be injured in that form.
But it clearly wasn't done yet.
They circled each other now, a dance of silence and death. Alex's breathing steadied, his thoughts clearer.
The dagger trembled in his fingers. Not out of fear—
Out of restraint.
His core hummed faintly now, as if recognizing the kill. The Void within stirred.
He grinned.
"Alright, come on then."
Alex's eyes narrowed, and his grin twisted into something sharper—more primal.
"I won't hold back anymore," he said lowly, voice cracking like frost splitting glass.
He let go.
The space around him distorted.
A wave of heavy pressure exploded outward from his body. The forest groaned. Branches shook violently, leaves dislodging in chaotic spirals. The earth itself seemed to bend.
A dark silver radiance—neither light nor shadow—rose from beneath his skin in gentle pulses, each one bending the ambient mana around him. The air snapped with tension. It was as if the laws of space themselves protested his presence.
Peak Genesis Realm.
The aura rolled out like a tidal wave, oppressive and absolute. No beginner could release something this refined, this stable. His core—large, filled, and dense—resonated like the eye of a black hole.
The Nightshade Striker froze.
Its instincts screamed.
This human—this prey— wasn't as weak as it thought.
Alex didn't wait.
He pushed off the ground, vanishing in a blur. The forest cracked beneath his acceleration, sending bark and dirt spraying behind him. He appeared directly in front of the beast, dagger raised in a reverse grip, slashing upward with brutal precision.
CLANG!
The beast had blocked—barely—claws meeting obsidian steel. Sparks burst out, showering the leaves in glinting light. The Striker roared, swiping horizontally. Alex ducked, the edge of a claw grazing his cheek—a shallow cut, but enough to sting.
He grunted and retaliated.
His palm glowed faintly with a silver ripple. Space twisted. His hand flicked forward in a slicing arc—teleporting the edge of his dagger a half-meter ahead mid-strike.
The blade warped unnaturally and cut across the beast's shoulder.
Blood splattered again.
But the Nightshade Striker didn't retreat. It lunged with renewed fury.
Teeth bared. Claws glowing with latent mana. It didn't want to run.
It wanted to kill.
BOOM!
The two clashed again.
This time, the beast landed a hit—its paw slamming into Alex's ribs, sending him flying into a thick tree trunk. The bark exploded on impact. Alex gasped, something inside popping with sharp pain. He collapsed to one knee, breathing ragged.
"Fuck—" he spat blood, wiping his mouth. "That thing hits like a damn truck."
But his silver-white eyes gleamed through the black contact lens. Excitement lit them up.
This was real.
This was life and death
He didn't know when but he started loving it.
He rose.
Mana swirled around his form like a halo of cosmic distortion. Space twisted around his right arm, wrapping it in an unstable spiral. Even the air trembled, as if unsure whether it still obeyed the rules around him.
The beast hesitated.
Alex struck again.
This time, he used blink steps—short-range spatial shifts that made his movement jarring, unnatural, impossible to follow with the naked eye.
Left. Right. Behind. Above.
He moved like a ghost in shattered mirrors.
The Nightshade Striker growled in frustration, swiping wildly, but Alex flowed around each attack like liquid silver. His dagger bit again and again—thigh, side, neck. Nothing deep. But enough to wear it down.
Still, the beast adapted.
Its mana surged suddenly. The shadows around it deepened, and its body dissolved—turning into a ripple of illusionary copies. Five, no, seven versions of it surrounded him.
"Shit. Shadow clone jutsu!?"
They attacked together.
One raked down his back—Alex arched in pain, biting his tongue to stop from screaming.
"Fuck and they can't inflict physical damage!?"
Another struck his thigh, the impact buckling his stance.
A claw slammed his shoulder, tearing part of his shirt and cutting into his skin.
Blood splattered across the forest floor.
Alex roared.
A pulse of mana erupted from his core, sweeping out in a radius. The illusions shimmered—and collapsed.
Only the real one remained.
Alex vanished mid-breath.
He appeared above the beast, midair—arm raised high.
"Downfall!"
He slammed his dagger downward.
A gravitational ripple distorted the space beneath him. The air compressed, and the beast was dragged downward slightly, its limbs reacting too late.
CRACK!
The dagger pierced its shoulder and drove it into the ground.
The forest trembled with the impact.
Alex landed in a crouch, panting, vision shaking from the mana strain. The Nightshade Striker shrieked—its shoulder torn, pinned.
But it wasn't dead.
Not yet.
And neither was Alex done.
He stood.
Staggered forward.
With Resolve.
He twisted the dagger free, then reversed his grip again.
The beast, wounded, tried to stand—but Alex was faster.
He pressed a hand to its neck, and space bent.
For a split second, the air distorted. A ripple passed through the trees like a breath held and released.
SNAP!
The beast collapsed—limp.
Dead.
Silence returned to the forest.
Only Alex's breathing remained—harsh, ragged, real.
He stumbled back, wiping his face. His body throbbed, his mind a whirlpool of fatigue and focus.
And then… he laughed.
Low at first. Then full.
He dropped to the grass, staring up at the trees.
"That... was insane," he muttered. "I almost died."
His dagger pulsed in his grip—resonating.
Then, a faint hum from within his palm.
He looked.
The crystal embedded in his hand—the dormant Weapon Core—shimmered faintly. It had absorbed some of his mana during the battle, and now… it was flickering.
Alex smiled again, the moonlight washing over his bloodied face.
"This world's insane," he whispered.
"And I love it."
Hahahaha!!.