Year 100
Whoosh.
I lunged at Fenrir, the King of Wolves, my blade slicing through the thick air like a whisper of death. His sharp eyes flicked to me instantly. With a blur of motion, he twisted his body and dodged, skidding across the frosted earth. He turned toward me and bared his teeth in a jagged grin — a silent acknowledgment. A challenge.
Then, without hesitation, he charged.
His massive form closed the distance in a heartbeat. His claws gleamed with savage intent as they arced downward, ready to shred. But I had already read his movements, anticipated the strike before his muscles even twitched. I pivoted lightly to the side, avoiding the blow with practiced ease. My foot pressed into the dirt, my body flowing like water around his attack.
It's been one hundred years since I was thrust into this brutal realm. A century of solitude, of clawing my way through the food chain, of learning the system and mastering it. Only now, after all this time, do I face my first true monarch — the weakest of the beast kings. Even so, Fenrier is no joke. But neither am I.
Every day for the past hundred years, I have hunted. Not rested. Not faltered. Not once. My enemies evolved, so I evolved faster. The limits of my body were torn apart and rebuilt over and over again, my strength forged in blood and fire. I no longer remember the face I once had, or the name I was born with. All that remains is power — and purpose.
Now, all my stats have surged past the threshold of 50. All but one.
Stats
Strength: 53
Defense: 54
Dexterity: 52
Stamina: 54
Intelligence: 30
Magic: 55
This battle will be my first true test — not just of skill, but of everything I've become.
Fenrier snarled, and I smiled back.
Let's begin.
I landed a solid blow, my blade biting into thick muscle. The beast—Fenrier—let out a piercing howl that split the stillness of the forest. It staggered back, wounded and wary, but I didn't let up. I was already closing in.
Before it could recover, I launched into a relentless barrage—swing after swing, each strike faster than the last. Steel clashed against hide, sparks flying. One well-placed slash tore a deep, jagged line across its flank, and blood sprayed like a fan across the battlefield.
That was when Fenrier's demeanor changed.
Its snarling stopped. Its ears flattened. The game was over—it understood now that I wasn't prey.
It shifted into a low, guarded stance. Cautious. Calculating. Desperate.
But it was too late for that.
I had studied this beast for close to a century. I knew its every habit, every weakness. I had prepared for this moment with the cold patience of a hunter born in fire. My stats weren't just higher—they were high enough to be overwhelming. I made sure of it. In this world, a single point of difference can be life or death.
One point decides whether you're devoured—or the one doing the devouring.
I was not about to be devoured.
I began to circle the beast, slow and steady, eyes locked on its every twitch. No opening. None that I could see. So I made one.
With a sharp motion, I slammed my palm into the earth. A ring of fire erupted around Fenrier, the ground cracking and flaring to life as flames roared up, boxing it in. Heat shimmered in the air, casting long, warping shadows between us.
It flinched, just for a second—and that was enough.
I darted forward, using the swirling fire as cover. My blade struck from an unexpected angle, sinking deep into its side. It howled—louder this time, wilder, more wounded. Its blood sizzled as it splashed into the flames.
I prepared to follow through, but something changed. Its eyes began to glow—an eerie, supernatural gleam. Then came the howl.
A deep, guttural roar thundered from its throat, echoing across the mountains like a death knell. I froze.
And then I heard them.
Howls. Dozens of them. No—hundreds.
Growing louder.
Closer.
I turned my gaze back to Fenrier. It was grinning now—teeth bared, eyes alight with the cruel glee of something that thought it had turned the tables. It believed it had won.
I clenched my fists, wrestling with the urge to retreat. But no—unless one of the incoming wolves was on Fenrier's level, they were nothing more than kindling. Besides... I hadn't even tapped into my true strength yet.
I hadn't used my Fire Dragon Slaying Magic.
I raised my broken sword and charged, heat rippling off my skin like a mirage. Fenrier's grin faltered, then collapsed into stunned disbelief. It didn't expect me to come at it—not now.
I dashed forward at full speed, faster than its reflexes could track. It reacted the only way it could—by lunging and clamping down on my sword.
Snap.
The steel shattered in its maw.
"Fuck!" I snarled. "That was my last blade."
But I didn't stop. I pivoted behind it, grabbing the broken hilt and jamming the jagged end into one of its hind legs. The beast shrieked, collapsing onto one side.
And then... the forest shook.
They had arrived.
The pack emerged from the trees—dozens of snarling wolves, eyes glinting in the firelight. But I didn't flinch.
I scanned them quickly—none of them held Fenrier's power. None even came close.
I smiled.
The air ignited around me as flames surged from my core. The temperature soared. Trees caught fire in an instant, turning to ash with barely a whisper.
I had been honing my Fire Dragon Slaying Magic with every hunt—sharpening it, mastering it, pushing it to its limits. Now, it had finally reached Level 19. Just one step away from the next metamorphosis.
You might think that sounds low, but this isn't an ordinary skill. I can't use upgrade cards on it—not a single one. And it demands a hundred times more experience than any standard ability.
Every level has been earned in blood and flame.
I let the flames build to their peak. Then I let them loose.
A tidal wave of fire engulfed the clearing, roaring across the forest like a wrathful storm. Screams filled the night—short, sharp, and silenced within seconds.
When the blaze cleared, only a dozen wolves still stood, trembling, their fur singed and patchy.
They ran.
I didn't let them get far.
With a single flash step, I appeared in front of them, unleashed another blast, and turned them to ash.
Silence fell.
I turned back to the battlefield—but Fenrier was gone.
Gone, but not for long.
I smiled.
"It's time to hunt," I whispered into the scorched wind.