The morning sun had barely risen, casting a soft golden glow over the quiet town. The air was still cool, carrying the lingering freshness of dawn. Vergil stirred, slowly opening his eyes.
A warmth beside him caught his attention. Eleanor lay close, her steady breathing the only sound in the quiet room.
"She moved from the other side," he thought to himself.
Carefully, he shifted away, making sure not to wake her. He sat up, ran a hand through his hair, and stood. Without another glance, he pulled on his boots, adjusted his coat, and stepped outside.
His destination was clear—the blacksmith.
---
The Blacksmith's Forge
The forge was already alive with heat and sound. The steady clang of hammer against metal echoed through the workshop, sending sparks flying with every strike. The thick scent of burning coal and hot iron filled the space, heavy and unyielding.
Vergil stepped inside, the wave of heat washing over him immediately. At the center of the forge stood Gilbert, a broad-shouldered man with a soot-streaked face and arms hardened from years of labor. He was hammering a glowing piece of metal, his movements precise and practiced.
Vergil approached the anvil. "Gilbert, it's me. I need a new weapon."
The blacksmith paused, resting his hammer on the worn anvil. He wiped sweat from his brow with a rag before turning to face him.
"What do you need?"
"A sword and a shield."
Gilbert gave a small nod and turned to the back of the shop. The sound of shifting metal and crates followed. After a few moments, he returned, placing a sword and a shield on the heavy wooden table in front of Vergil.
Vergil stepped forward, eyes scanning the weapons.
Iron Longsword
Attack: +10
A sturdy, well-worn blade forged from plain iron. Though dulled from years of sharpening, it remains reliable and free of rust. The leather-wrapped hilt is molded from use, offering a firm grip, while the crossguard bears minor dents from past battles. Heavier than refined swords but well-balanced, built for endurance over elegance.
---
Reinforced Wooden Shield
Defense: +4
A round wooden shield reinforced with an iron rim. The wood is aged but strong, with shallow marks from deflected strikes. The iron rim bears small dents, proof of its durability. Thick leather straps, worn but secure, provide a snug fit. Light enough for quick movement, yet sturdy enough to absorb solid blows.
Vergil slid his arm through the straps, adjusting them until the shield felt snug. It was light enough to maneuver but solid enough to take a hit—a simple, functional piece of equipment.
---
Vergil nodded in approval, securing the sword at his waist and adjusting the shield on his arm.
"These will do," he said
Gilbert smirked slightly, crossing his arms. "Good. They won't fail you unless you fail them."
Without another word, Vergil turned and stepped out of the forge. The sun had risen higher now, bathing the town in warm light. His weapons were ready. Now, it was time to move forward.
Preparing for Battle
'I have a sword and a shield. The Parry skill will work well with the shield, and Basic Sword Mastery will pair nicely with the sword.'
Vergil adjusted his grip on the longsword, testing its balance. The weapon felt solid in his hands—nothing extraordinary, but dependable. The shield, though simple, would allow him to deflect attacks and create openings for counters.
'I should take on a mission and get some practice in… but how do I unlock Arts for the sword?'
System?
[Yeah, what's up?]
"How do I unlock Arts for weapons?"
[Before that, let's go over the difference between Skills and Arts, since they're not the same thing and i dont want to have to explain things again.]
1. Weapon Skills – Fundamental techniques like Slash, thrust, or Parry. These are the basic movements of a weapon, and using them repeatedly in combat will improve their effectiveness over time.
2. Weapon Arts – Advanced techniques that combine multiple skills into powerful, refined moves. These can include techniques like Spiral Thrust, which enhances a stab with rotational force, or Moon Slash, a wide, arcing strike for greater reach and impact.
[Think of Skills as the building blocks of combat, while Arts are the advanced techniques that come from mastering those fundamentals.]
Vergil nodded slightly. 'So I need to sharpen my basics first before I can unlock stronger moves.'
---
How to Learn Weapon Skills and Arts
[You can obtain Weapon Skills naturally through practice and combat. The more you slash, stab, block, and parry, the more refined those actions become, eventually forming proper techniques.]
[Once you've honed enough Skills, you'll naturally develop Weapon Arts—stronger, more specialized techniques. Alternatively, you can also learn Arts from experienced warriors or from combat manuals if you find one.]
Vergil smirked. 'So, the key is to fight and improve through experience and repetitve training makes sense, the best enemy to fight would be humanoid monsters.
With a plan set in his mind, Vergil headed to the adventures guild to get a new mission
The Adventurer's Guild Encounter – Orchestrated Death
The Vaeloria Adventurer's Guild buzzed with life—adventurers bartering for jobs, the clatter of weapons, and the occasional burst of laughter from those boasting of minor victories. The scent of parchment and worn leather filled the air, masking the underlying stench of sweat and blood.
Vergil walked through the crowd, his steps measured. His eyes scanned the room before locking onto a familiar face behind the reception desk. Without breaking stride, he approached.
"Hey, Elina."
The auburn-haired receptionist glanced up, her emerald eyes softening.
"Oh, Akira," she greeted, using the name he had registered under. "What do you need?"
"I'm looking for an E-rank mission—preferably something involving humanoid monsters with weapons."
Elina's smile faltered.
"Are you sure? You're still F-rank... even armed humanoid monsters are a step above what you've been handling."
Vergil's gaze remained steady.
"I'm sure."
A moment passed before Elina sighed, flipping through the quest ledger.
"If that's what you want… fine. I'll make this your advancement request. Complete it, and you'll be eligible to move up to E-rank."
Before the conversation could continue, a mocking chuckle echoed from behind.
"Advancement request? Really?"
Vergil turned his head slowly.
A broad-shouldered man with dirty blond hair sauntered over, his grin revealing a missing tooth—a souvenir from one of the countless bar brawls he likely started but couldn't finish. His worn leather armor with metal plating looked like it hadn't seen maintenance in months, and the faint smell of sweat clung to him.
Darin Kross. Exactly the kind of fool Vergil had been hoping for.
Without invitation, Darin slung an arm over Vergil's shoulder, leaning in with a cocky smirk.
"You're really aiming for E-rank already, newbie? Why not stick to gathering herbs or chasing slimes? Wouldn't want you getting yourself killed out there."
Vergil didn't react immediately. He allowed the touch—let Darin believe he had some control. His mind was already calculating.
'Analysis.'
---
'Analysis'
Name: Darin Kross
Level: 5
Tier:0
Title: Novice Warrior
Lifespan: 72 Years
Spouses: None
Race: Human
Class: Warrior
Stats:
Strength: 20
Constitution: 17
Dexterity: 14
Intelligence: 10
Wisdom: 10
Magic Power: 5
Mana Capacity: 5
Equipment:
Iron Sword (F+) – A dulled weapon, more dangerous from neglect than craftsmanship.
Reinforced Leather Armor (F+) – Provides minor protection against slashes.
Hunting Boots (F) – Lightweight, offers a slight agility boost.
Passive Skills:
Tough Body (F+) – Slightly increases physical resilience.
Battle Instincts (F+) – Improves reaction speed in combat.
Active Skills:
Power Strike (F+) – A forceful attack that can stagger weaker opponents.
Quick Guard (F) – Last-second parry, reducing incoming damage.
---
Vergil's lips twitched. Perfect.
Darin was just strong enough to believe himself untouchable—but weak enough to die without anyone asking too many questions.
His gaze flicked toward Darin's two lackeys hovering nearby—lesser fools who followed him like dogs. They would follow their master wherever he went.
Three birds. One stone.
Vergil slowly removed Darin's arm from his shoulder, meeting the man's eyes.
"I don't need advice from someone who's been stuck at F-rank for two years."
The grin flickered, a vein pulsing at Darin's temple. Exactly the reaction Vergil wanted.
He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice so only Darin could hear.
"I heard the only reason you're still breathing is because the monsters take pity on you."
Darin's face twisted, but Vergil was already turning back to Elina, speaking loud enough for half the guild to hear.
"I'll be taking the mission at Deadleaf Hollow—the one with Grave Scavengers."
It was the perfect location—isolated, filled with monsters, and far from prying eyes.
"You sure about that?" Elina asked, concern flickering again.
Vergil smirked.
"I'll be fine… unless the monsters are as pathetic as some of the adventurers here."
A ripple went through the crowd. Darin's face darkened, but he didn't lash out—not here. Not in front of the guild.
No, he would follow.
He would take his lackeys, tail Vergil into the Hollow, wait until they were far from anyone who could intervene...
And then he would try to teach the rookie a lesson.
Exactly as Vergil wanted.
---
Hours Later – Deadleaf Hollow
The sun was sinking by the time Vergil reached the crumbling ruins. The twisted trees cast long shadows, and the distant cawing of carrion birds filled the air.
He could already hear them—Darin and his dogs, following at a distance. They thought they were being subtle.
They were wrong.
Vergil set down his pack, deliberately fumbling as if distracted. He could almost feel Darin's grin from the shadows.
Any moment now...
A twig snapped behind him.
Vergil didn't turn around. He smirked, loosening his blade from its sheath.
Hook baited. Line cast.
Now all he had to do was wait for the fish to bite.
Vergil's heart remained steady.
Tonight... three men would die.
And their skills would become his, but should I have some fun with my prey' Vergil mused
Vergil channeled mana through his body, spreading the energy across his limbs. The enhancement was imperfect—deliberately so, just enough to add a single point to each physical parameter. With a subtle flicker of power, he activated Dash, increasing his Dexterity, and rushed forward, his movements sharp but not overly refined.
He danced through the battlefield, striking at the Grave Scavengers with controlled effort—not too fast, not too slow—as if he were barely holding his own. His blade carved shallow wounds, his dodges had just the right amount of hesitation, and his footwork bordered on sloppy. It was a performance, a carefully orchestrated act of struggle and desperation.
It didn't take long for his prey to take the bait.
Darin and his group, who had been trailing him out of arrogance and mockery, saw their golden opportunity.
"Ha! Look at the newbie struggling," one of them sneered.
"Told you he'd bite off more than he could chew," Darin chuckled, cracking his knuckles.
Vergil felt their eyes on him, the undercurrent of mockery and superiority in their voices. He didn't react. Instead, he let a ghoulish creature lunge at him, barely blocking in time, letting out a grunt of exertion—just enough to make himself seem overwhelmed.
Darin grinned. "Let's kill him."
Vergil heard the unsaid words.
They stepped into the ruins of Deadleaf Hollow, weapons drawn, confidence in their every step. They thought they were apex predators swooping in on their prey.
Vergil allowed himself a small smile.
'No, you're the ones being hunted.'
The first Grave Scavenger lunged toward Darin's group, snarling. Darin easily sidestepped, slamming his sword into its side, but the creature barely reacted, twisting unnaturally before slashing at his exposed arm.
"Damn—these things are quick!" one of his teammates cursed.
"They're nothing but bottom-feeders," Darin growled, raising his sword. "Stay together and wipe them out—"
He never got to finish his sentence.
A sharp, ear-piercing Wailing Howl erupted through the air as one of the creatures screamed, the unnatural sound disorienting Darin's team for just a second. And in that second—Vergil moved.
Dash.
He was behind one of them before they even registered his movement.
Savage Claw— except this time, it wasn't a Grave Scavenger using it. It was Vergil.
'This skill ain't bad' Vergil thought
His fingers tore through the man's back, his enhanced strength puncturing through cloth and skin like paper. Blood splattered across the broken stone floor.
A scream rang out.
Vergil pulled his hand back and let the man collapse, gurgling as he clawed weakly at the ground.
Darin turned in shock. "What the—?"
Vergil grinned as the stolen skill coursed through him, his body adapting, refining the technique further than any mindless scavenger ever could.
"Darin." Vergil's voice was almost gentle. "You walked into the wrong graveyard."
The Grave Scavengers surged forward, drawn by the scent of fresh blood. Darin's group—dazed, disoriented, unprepared—were caught between monsters.
And one of those monsters was Vergil.
Tonight, he would feast.
Darin's eyes widened in confusion and rage as he processed what had just happened. One of his comrades lay gurgling on the ground, his life slipping away in crimson rivers, while Vergil stood calmly among the chaos, his bloodstained fingers twitching as if savoring the sensation of flesh tearing beneath his grip.
"You… what the fuck did you just do?!" Darin snarled, his voice cracking slightly.
Vergil tilted his head, feigning innocence. "I killed him."
Darin's remaining two teammates stumbled back, their previous arrogance melting into unease as the realization set in. This wasn't a mistake. This wasn't an accident.
This was a trap.
The Grave Scavengers shrieked, surging forward with feral hunger, and in the same instant, Vergil moved.
Dash.
He was on them before they could react, his speed unnatural, predatory.
Vergil's sword flickered through the air, slashing once, twice, three times in rapid succession across the throat of the nearest man, each cut precise and deliberate. The man staggered back, clutching his neck in horror as blood sprayed through his fingers.
Darin roared in fury, finally breaking out of his stunned state. He lunged at Vergil with a heavy downward strike.
Vergil stepped back, letting the rusted blade of a Grave Scavenger intercept the attack, then smoothly circled around, whispering in Darin's ear as he slid the sword between his ribs.
"You were right, Darin," Vergil murmured. "I really should've taken it easy."
Darin choked, his strength draining from his limbs, his breath turning ragged.
The last remaining member of his group screamed in panic, attempting to flee—only to be yanked into the dirt by a Grave Scavenger's clawed hands, his desperate shrieks quickly devolving into gurgling sobs as the creatures tore into him.
Darin collapsed to his knees, his vision swimming, his heartbeat pounding in his ears.
Vergil crouched beside him, watching him struggle with the detached curiosity of a scientist observing a dying test subject.
He reached out, placing a bloodied hand against Darin's fading pulse, feeling the last flickers of life slip away.
"Its alright, you were a fun toy" Vergil said before using the Authority of predation
[User has gained 2 strength and 2 constitution points]
User has gained the skills:
Passive"
Tough Body (F+)
Battle Instincts (F+)
Active:
Power Strike (F+)
Quick Guard (F)
Vergil sighed in pleasure as the new knowledge settled into his body.
Darin's body faded away as the black mouths eat his corpse leavong only his equiment behind .
Vergil stood, his expression unreadable as he looked down at the their skeletons
The Grave Scavengers, sensing no hostility from him, began to drag the bodies into the ruins, feasting greedily on the flesh of Darins teammates
Vergil wiped his sword clean. Tonight had been productive.
But he wasn't satisfied yet.
He needed more.
Vergil stood amidst the ruined graveyard, his breath steady despite the lingering pain in his body. The scent of death and old iron filled the air, mingling with the fresh blood dripping from his wound.
His hand rested lightly on the shallow cut across his belly—a calculated move.
Since they love blood, I'll attract them with my own.
A deliberate bait.
But one that was already working.
The Grave Scavengers stirred at the scent, their hollow eyes gleaming with renewed hunger. They didn't hesitate.
They charged.
Vergil grinned, raising his shield.
No analysis. No shortcuts, I won't learn anything by using analysis.
This time, he would learn through instinct.
The first scavenger lunged, a rusted dagger flashing toward his throat.
Vergil reacted on reflex, raising his shield, absorbing the impact with a metallic clang. The moment the scavenger recoiled from the block—
Slash.
His sword carved cleanly through its throat, severing flesh and sending a spray of dark blood into the air. The creature collapsed, twitching.
No time to breathe.
Two more.
One with a sword, the other clawing forward like an animal.
Vergil moved.
The clawed one struck first, swiping for his ribs.
Vergil shifted, twisting his body just enough to let the attack graze past—and in the same motion—
Thrust.
His blade pierced through the scavenger's heart, its body convulsing as he wrenched the sword free.
The last one attacked immediately, bringing its blade down in a brutal overhead strike.
Vergil barely had time to react.
Quick Guard.
His shield rose just in time, the force of the impact rattling through his bones. The scavenger pushed against him, trying to overpower him, its grotesque face twisted in hunger.
Vergil snarled, yanking his sword free from the corpse beneath him—
And slashing upward.
The blade bit deep into the scavenger's throat, nearly severing its head.
It fell backward, gurgling, before going still.
Silence.
Vergil exhaled, rolling his shoulder. His body ached, but he was getting faster. More efficient.
And the fight wasn't over.
More of them screeched in the distance, drawn by the scent of fresh blood—his blood.
Vergil smiled, gripping his sword tighter.
Let them come.
Vergil's breath came slow and controlled as more Grave Scavengers slinked from the shadows, their hollow eyes locked onto him with unrelenting hunger. His blood had done its job.
It had lured them in.
He gripped his sword and shield tightly, sweat beading on his brow. His body ached from strain, his arms felt heavier than before. He had already taken down several, but they kept coming.
And these ones… moved differently.
Faster. More coordinated.
A pair came at him simultaneously, their jagged blades flashing in the dim light.
Vergil raised his shield, angling it to catch the first strike. The impact sent a jolt through his arm, but he held firm. The second scavenger came in low, slashing at his exposed leg.
Too late.
Pain bloomed along his thigh as the rusted blade sliced through his flesh.
"Tch—!"
He barely had time to react before the first scavenger shoved against his shield, forcing him back.
They were pressuring him, exploiting his defenses.
I can't just rely on blocking.
He needed to attack more efficiently.
Another strike came, a reckless downward chop, aiming for his shoulder.
No time to slash.
No space to swing.
A stab.
He drove his sword forward, aiming center mass—
But it was too shallow.
The blade scraped against bone, failing to puncture deep enough. The scavenger barely staggered, retaliating with another vicious swipe.
Vergil twisted, avoiding a lethal blow, but another gash opened across his side.
Damn it.
Slashes weren't always the answer. They took too much time. Too much movement.
He needed something faster.
Something sharper.
The principle of a thrust.
Minimal movement. Maximum impact.
A single, concentrated force—driving into a weak point.
The next scavenger lunged at him—mouth wide, blade raised.
Vergil's eyes sharpened.
Thrust.
This time, he drove his sword straight into its chest, focusing on precision rather than brute force.
The blade slid through the creature's ribs, piercing straight into its twisted heart.
The scavenger seized up, its body twitching violently before it collapsed in an instant.
Vergil pulled his sword free, panting.
Then—
A faint hum resonated within him before the system said
[ New skill acquired: Thrust (F) ]
Vergil exhaled slowly.
He rolled his shoulders, testing the feeling of the movement again—a short, controlled stab, carrying his body's weight behind it.
It was efficient. It was deadly.
And he would make it even sharper.
More scavengers circled him, their grotesque faces twisted with hunger.
Vergil grinned, raising his sword once more.
"Come on, then."
The bodies of Grave Scavengers littered the ground, their twisted forms sprawled in pools of dark, coagulated blood.
Vergil stood among them, his breath steady despite the exhaustion creeping into his muscles. He had been fighting for what felt like hours.
And in that time, he had learned.
At first, he relied on slashes, but wild swings wasted movement, wasted energy. He had noticed how his strikes would sometimes glance off bone or fail to cut deep enough when not angled correctly.
So he adjusted.
A proper slash wasn't just about swinging the sword—it was about control, about flow.
He had to follow through with the motion, let the momentum carry him, and cut along the weakest points of the body—the neck, the joints, the tendons.
His grip on the hilt was no longer rigid but firm, his wrist flexible enough to redirect his blade mid-swing.
[User has acquired the skill: Slash (F)]
Vergil exhaled, tightening his grip on the sword. It felt more natural now, though he knew it would take some time to fully adjust. He flexed his fingers around the hilt, rolling his shoulders as he surveyed the fallen creatures around him.
"What are these monsters stats, anyway?" he wondered, glancing at the fading remains of the Grave Scavengers.
Grave Scavengers – E-Rank Humanoid Monsters
Description:
Grave Scavengers are malnourished, humanoid creatures with elongated limbs, hunched postures, and grayish, leathery skin stretched over their emaciated frames. Their hollow eyes glow dimly in the dark, and their bony fingers end in clawed tips, capable of digging through dirt and rotting flesh with ease. They infest abandoned ruins, battlefields, and burial sites, feasting on the flesh of the dead—and sometimes the living.
They wield rusted weapons scavenged from corpses and ruins, making them primitive but dangerous in groups.
Stats (Average per Grave Scavenger)
Strength: 14
Constitution: 15
Dexterity: 17
Intuition: 8
Magic Power: 4
Mana Capacity: 4
---
Passive Skills
Carrion Sense (F+) – Can instinctively detect the scent of rotting flesh and dying creatures within a 50-meter radius.
Burial Adaptation (F) – Capable of digging through dirt, sand, and loose rubble at a rapid pace, allowing for surprise attacks from underground.
Pack Mentality (F+) – Becomes more aggressive and coordinated when fighting alongside others of the same species.
Corpse Parasite (E-) – Can sustain itself without eating for weeks by absorbing residual death energy from corpses.
---
Active Skills
Savage Claw (F+) – A frenzied swipe that tears through flesh and light armor. Can cause bleeding if it lands successfully.
Dagger Rush (E-) – Rapidly slashes with a rusted dagger, striking multiple times in quick succession. More dangerous in groups.
Frenzied Hunger (E) – When a Grave Scavenger consumes flesh, it temporarily boosts its Strength and Dexterity for 30 seconds.
Burial Ambush (E-) – Can burrow underground and launch a surprise attack, emerging from the dirt to strike unsuspecting targets.
Wailing Howl (F+) – Lets out a distorted screech that causes momentary disorientation in enemies, making them vulnerable for follow-up attacks.
Death's Taint (E-) – The Grave Scavenger's weapons and claws are coated in filth and rot, inflicting minor infections on wounds that are left untreated.
---
Vergil smirked slightly. "They're weak, but their numbers could be a problem for most low-rank adventurers."
But for him, they were nothing more than fodder.
Before worrying about improving his swordsmanship, he needed to strengthen himself. And there was only one way to do that efficiently.
Vergil extended his hand, black mouths forming from the abyssal void around his palm.
"Authority of Predation."
The spectral mouths lunged forward, devouring the corpses of the fallen Scavengers. Flesh, bone, and even their lingering essence were consumed in an instant, vanishing into the void as dark energy swirled around him.
A series of notifications flashed before his eyes.
[User has gained 2 Strength points and 2 Dexterity points.]
[User has gained 10 skills.]
[User has 1 notification.]
---
"10 skills? Not bad. Now, what's the notification?"
---
[You have leveled up twice.]
---
Vergil chuckled, running a hand through his hair.
"Not bad. Most of my physical stats are in the 20s now. That should be enough to handle E-rank missions with ease."
His gaze drifted to the pile of loot he had collected so far.
He had gathered over 15 Astralyth Crystals at E- rank, a decent haul. Then there was Darin's corpse—one of the adventurers who had foolishly gotten in his way. The man had about 30 silver on him.
"Too bad his teammates were eaten before I could loot them and eat them."
It was unfortunate, but there was no use dwelling on it.
For now, he needed to recover his energy before pushing forward.
Vergil sat down on a nearby stone, pulling out a piece of bread he had bought from the general store earlier. It was rough and dry, barely palatable, but it would do for now.
He took a slow bite, watching the eerie glow of the moon above.
"I'll rest for a bit. Then I'll train some more."
Vergil sat in silence, chewing the stale bread as he listened to the distant sounds of the ruins—faint winds whispering through broken stone, the occasional scuttling of unseen creatures, and the ever-present scent of decay.
His body was still adjusting to the new strength he'd gained, his muscles subtly pulsing with fresh energy. He flexed his fingers, feeling the improved dexterity in the way his grip adjusted effortlessly around the hilt of his sword. The boost wasn't massive, but it was noticeable. And in battle, even the smallest edge could mean the difference between victory and death.
After a few more minutes of rest, he pushed himself to his feet, brushing the crumbs from his clothes.
"Time to get back to it."
---
[A Few Hours Later…]
The last Grave Scavenger let out a distorted screech as Vergil's blade pierced its chest. It twitched violently before falling limp, its glowing eyes flickering out like dying embers.
He exhaled, shaking off the grime from his sword. The creatures had become easier to deal with as he adapted to their attack patterns. They relied on surprise tactics and group coordination, but individually, they were weak.
Vergil crouched down, placing a hand over the latest pile of corpses.
"Authority of Predation."
The abyssal mouths emerged again, feasting upon the remains with ravenous hunger. Flesh, bones, even their lingering energy—all of it was devoured.
Another rush of notifications filled his vision.
[User has gained 1 Dexterity point]
[User has gained 1 new skill from continuous practice: Parry (F).]
[User has gained the skill Ravenous bite and Keen smeel]
Vergil's lips curled into a small smirk.
"Finally. This should make close combat much smoother."
[Parry (F) – A defensive technique that allows the user to deflect an incoming melee attack with precise timing, momentarily staggering the attacker if executed correctly.]
It was a basic skill, but one that could be improved with mastery—and considering how often Vergil fought with a blade, Parry would prove invaluable. The flow of combat had always come naturally to him, but now, with enhanced reflexes and a skill that rewarded timing, his style would become even sharper.
He rolled his shoulders, feeling the dull ache of exertion in his muscles as he glanced at the shimmering cluster of Astralyth Crystals he'd gathered. Twenty-five in total—far more than what he needed to complete his advancement quest.
'The rest didn't even have any skills other than voracious fang sadly' Vergil sighed
"That should be plenty," he murmured, sheathing his sword. "I'll give ten to the guild and use the rest to improve my mana circle… and maybe reinforce my mana heart while I'm at it."
His eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he walked, boots crunching against the gravel road back toward the village.
"The average stats of E-minus monsters hover around twenty. So, E-rank monsters should range between twenty-five to thirty. Shouldn't be too bad, especially now."
He flexed his fingers again, noting the increased precision and strength in every movement. His growth had been steady so far—but the gap between E and D rank was said to be significant. He had no plans to slow down.
The night was still young, a pale sliver of the moon just beginning to rise—but for now, he'd hunted enough.
Turning on his heel, Vergil began making his way back, the soft wind brushing past his cloak.
'I should check in on Eleanor's progress,' he thought. 'If she's ready, I can bring her along next time. The more experience she gains now, the faster she'll grow.'
---
Meanwhile…
At the edge of the village, where the streets faded into forest shadow and silence reigned, a pale green light pulsed behind the windows of a lone cottage. Inside, the air was cool, still, and heavy with magical residue. Books lined the shelves, scrolls and crystal fragments cluttered the workspace—but everything was meticulously organized.
Eleanor stood at the center of the room, her expression unreadable as she wove a mana sigil into the air with precise, practiced movements. Her long hair was tied back, her eyes sharp and cold as jade. The ward she was forming pulsed with raw, nature-aligned energy—refined, stable, and efficient.
Across from her, seated in an old armchair wrapped in blankets, Elvira watched silently, her gaze unreadable.
The spell finalized, the ward hovering midair like a floating glyph of power. Eleanor held it there, maintaining its form with no visible effort.
"Stability, duration, and flow—all within acceptable parameters," she murmured to herself, more as a mental note than conversation.
Elvira finally spoke, voice low.
"You've surpassed what most beginners take a year to learn. You don't waste movement, or words ."
Eleanor didn't respond with thanks. She simply dispelled the ward and turned to adjust the next set of runes.
"Efficiency is survival," she replied coolly. "I won't be a liability when the time comes."
Elvira leaned forward slightly.
"You speak as though it's a certainty."
Eleanor's gaze flicked toward her.
"It is. He'll come back with more power. And when he does, he'll go deeper into danger. I intend to follow, I need him to see me as valuable.."
There was no warmth in her tone, only cold conviction. No admiration, no sentiment—just calculated determination.
"Vergil is strong, but reckless. Power without restraint draws enemies. If he continues down this path alone, he'll taste defeat. He needs a balance. That's what I'll be."
Elvira was silent for a moment. Then, with a thin smile:
"Your learning ."
Eleanor looked back to the spellwork in front of her.
"Change is necessary."
Outside, the wind whispered through the branches, brushing against the window panes like a warning.
Inside, Eleanor resumed her casting—unflinching, methodical, cold. No hesitation. No doubt.
She wouldn't be left behind.
She wouldn't be weak.
And next time, she wouldn't just be watching Vergil fight—she'd be fighting beside him. On her terms.