After collecting the Carniphant's remains, Zane and Shelby continued deeper into the wilderness. Though the mission had initially been to slay the Celestial Wolf King and retrieve its mana core as proof, it quickly became apparent how strange the assignment truly was.
For starters, there was no map. No hints. No direction.
The Celestial Wolf King could've been on the other side of the world—or perhaps not even on this continent.
They had discussed the absurdity of it during their walk. But now?
They didn't care.
The mission's original goal had taken a back seat. This world—the wild, corrupted land—was a perfect training ground. A place where Zane could sharpen not just his strength, but more importantly, his control.
As they trekked deeper into the forest, the environment began to shift. The trees grew thicker, twisted, and wild. It was there that the System chimed again:
Ding!
[Corrupted Beasts Detected]
[Targets: 17 Red-Eyed Apes]
Zane didn't wait for Shelby's command. He launched himself forward with a burst of momentum.
The moment he landed, the Red-Eyed Apes shrieked, their cries echoing through the forest. The troop recognized an intruder and coordinated their assault. But Zane welcomed it.
He assessed their stats in a glance. Most were weaker, likely juveniles, but five among them had strength levels similar to the Carniphant he had just slain.
He decided to stick with what worked: dodge and counter with precision flicks. That was the essence of his training—refinement, not brute force.
The younger apes charged recklessly.
Flick. Flick.
Each time, Zane sent them flying, necks snapping, bodies collapsing in an instant.
"Ah... the damage's doubled again." He frowned, flicking blood off his finger. "This is bad... too strong, too fast. I'm not even trying to go all out..."
From above, Shelby's voice drifted down lazily. He was lying across a tree branch, chewing a long blade of grass.
"Don't worry. It happens. Just kill them all already."
Zane clicked his tongue but complied. He trotted through the battlefield, dispatching the lesser threats swiftly. With each flick, another red-eyed corpse hit the ground. Soon, only five remained—the strongest.
The adult apes snarled in fury. Despite their corruption, a faint sense of awareness clung to them. Seeing their kin dead seemed to trigger something deeper. Their cries turned from rage to grief—then into madness.
They charged.
Faster. Wilder. Claws out.
But they still couldn't land a hit.
Zane danced between them, moving like water through blades. With each flick of his finger, one of them reeled backward, their health bars ticking down in steady rhythm. It wasn't about killing them fast anymore.
It was about precision.
He measured each strike. Practiced restraint. Held back.
Finally, after seven long minutes of sustained combat, the last ape let out a mournful howl and fell limp to the forest floor.
Shelby jumped down from his perch and began his now-familiar ritual—skinning the beasts, harvesting the cores, and stashing the materials into his interspatial pouch.
"You're getting better," he commented while slicing through muscle and tendon. "Still flicking too hard, though."
Zane nodded silently, wiping the sweat from his brow. He felt it too. His flicks were cleaner now, more measured. He was learning.
They continued onward.
Their path soon brought them into the territory of another corrupted beast—one that resembled a polar bear, only five times larger. Zane defeated it without Shelby even having to look up.
And then came more beasts. Corrupted lizards, horned wolves, spiked deer. He hunted them all.
Every encounter became a lesson.
Every flick became a test.
And as the sun began to dip in the west, the sounds of birds faded into the distance. In their place, the nocturnal symphony of crickets and insects began to rise.
Eventually, they reached a narrow stream—clear, cold, and glimmering under the open sky. The dense forest finally parted, revealing a serene clearing bathed in the fading golden light of dusk.
It was a perfect place to rest.
"Let's stop here for today," Shelby announced, his voice steady.
Zane nodded in agreement. He was exhausted. After a day filled with ceaseless battle and movement—while carrying nearly three tonnes of weight—it was a miracle he hadn't collapsed already. Every muscle in his body throbbed in quiet protest.
Shelby always reminded him: "Resting is just another form of training. Don't neglect it."
Zane had learned the hard way that recovery was as important as the fight.
While Zane sat by the stream, letting the cool breeze wash over him, Shelby disappeared into the woods. A moment later, he returned—dragging along a long, thick tree.
With a casual wave of his hand, the tree snapped into segments. Logs stacked neatly in a pile as if chopped by a master woodsman. Then, Shelby muttered a short mantra under his breath and pointed at the logs. From the tip of his finger, a thin bolt of white lightning arced out.
Crack!
The logs ignited instantly, and a large bonfire roared to life.
As night deepened, the breeze coming off the stream grew colder, biting even through Zane's heavy clothes. Yet the warmth of the fire wrapped around him like a blanket, soothing his aches and lulling his tired mind. His eyelids drooped. His head bobbed.
Shelby noticed. "Don't worry," he said gently. "Get some rest. I'll handle dinner."
Zane didn't want to sleep. Not here. Not in this ravaged world where danger lurked in every corner.
But the thought of Shelby standing guard…
That was enough.
He curled up near the fire, using his bundled coat as a makeshift pillow, and within seconds, soft snores escaped his lips.
Shelby glanced over and smirked. "Poor kid. Walked and fought all day without a break. And now he snores like a dragon in heat... but he deserves it."
Then, with practiced ease, he pulled out a massive black cauldron—at least three times the size of the Carniphant's skull—and set it over the flames.
Next came the oil. It sizzled as he poured it in.
Then spices—dozens of kinds—each measured and added with precision.
Herbs. Salt. Dried root powders. A dash of something red that shimmered like embers.
All of it came from the same silk pouch.
Shelby had long ago decided that if he was going to risk his life on missions, he would at least eat like royalty while doing it.
He'd spent half of his dungeon-earned savings on this high-grade interspatial pouch, and he never once regretted it.
As the night deepened and the forest grew louder with the calls of insects and nocturnal creatures, the aroma from the cauldron began to spread—thick, spicy, mouthwatering.
The stew simmered for three full hours.
Then, satisfied, Shelby stirred one last time, leaned over, and gently shook Zane awake.
"Dinner's ready. Wake up and eat."
Zane groaned. He wanted to sleep more. His body begged for rest.
But the scent...
The moment it hit him, he sat up groggily, sniffing like a hound.
He splashed water on his face from the stream, blinked away the fatigue, and turned toward the cauldron—his eyes lighting up at the sight of perfectly braised, golden-brown meat swimming in rich, spiced broth.
Shelby picked out a thick Carniphant thigh and bit into it with a grin.
"Mmm. This taste… it's to die for."
He handed a plateful to Zane.
"Come on, dig in. Tomorrow's going to take even more out of you. Might as well prepare."
Zane didn't need to be told twice. He took the meat, tore into it, and let the flavors explode in his mouth.
It was divine.