The forest didn't even have time to shiver as Calder moved through it. He was a blur of silent efficiency, ghosting through the undergrowth with Kemi clinging to his shoulder. His movements were so refined, so devoid of wasted energy, that even the birds remained perched on their branches, oblivious to the predator passing beneath. To the Level 100 Feral Beasts lurking in the deeper shadows, he was nothing more than a passing breeze.
Kemi, eyes wide with a mix of terror and awe, couldn't keep his mouth shut. "Boss, you’re... you’re something else. I’ve seen Pygmari scouts who couldn't hold a candle to this. Your stealth is legendary!"
Calder didn't look back. His voice was a cold edge in the humid air. "If this route is wrong, you’ll find out exactly how 'legendary' I can be."
Kemi’s face went pale, his flattery dying in his throat. "I wouldn't dream of it, I swear..." He knew better than anyone that his life, and the lives of his entire tribe, were balanced on the razor-thin edge of Calder’s patience.
It didn't take long. Guided by the Pygmari’s directions, the distant gurgle of a stream soon cut through the forest's ambient noise. Calder adjusted his trajectory, leaping between the trunks with predatory grace until the habitat of the Korroth Murkfin came into view.
The creatures were small, standing barely over four feet tall—roughly the size of the Knorr Aberrant Fiends Calder had slaughtered earlier. They were fish-like humanoids, clutching jagged harpoons and patrolling the muddy banks of a winding creek. Temporary tents were scattered along the shore, though Calder knew they were a ruse. The moment a real threat appeared, these creatures would dive into the silt and strike from the safety of the water.
A quick scan brought up their data:
[Korroth Murkfin]
Level — 10
Skills — 1. Harpoon Toss | 1. Web Snare | 4. Slippery
Move Speed — 6.4
Basic abilities. Low level. Kemi hadn't lied.
Calder glanced at the trembling creature on his shoulder. "Your lifespan just increased by ten minutes."
Before Kemi could ask why the extension was so insultingly short, Calder launched himself from the branch.
"Holy hell, Boss!" Kemi shrieked, white-knuckling Calder’s collar.
The Pygmari’s heart hammered against his ribs. To him, this was suicide. A sane warrior would have scouted the perimeter, picked off the stragglers, and drawn the tribe out in small groups. Calder, however, was charging straight into the center of the camp like a runaway train. He’s a madman, Kemi thought. He's going to get us both turned into fish food.
As he neared the first patrol, Calder’s knuckles split open. Six-inch blades of sharpened calcium—Ossein Daggers—slid forward from his grip. With a flick of his wrists, the blades hummed through the air.
Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.
The daggers buried themselves in the faces of three Murkfin before they could even drop their harpoons.
CRITICAL HIT! ONE-SHOT KILL!
CRITICAL HIT! ONE-SHOT KILL!
System notifications began to flood his peripheral vision. The camp erupted in a cacophony of gargling war cries. "Wua-wah! Wua-wah!"
Within seconds, over a hundred Murkfin swarmed the banks, their primitive eyes locked onto the intruder. The tribe leader let out a shrill shriek, and a forest of harpoons took flight, whistling toward Calder.
"Shift," Calder muttered.
His arms rippled. His flesh tore and reshaped as he invoked Aberrant Shift, transforming his limbs into six segmented Chain Scourges. The jagged bone-whips lashed out in a whirlwind of motion, batting the incoming harpoons aside like toothpicks before he slammed into the front line.
He became a centrifuge of gore. The six scourges extended to their full length, rotating at high velocity. It wasn't a fight; it was a harvest.
CRITICAL HIT! ONE-SHOT KILL!
CRITICAL HIT! ONE-SHOT KILL!
Kemi watched the slaughter in stunned silence. He had led Calder here out of spite as much as survival—the Korroth Murkfin were the Pygmari’s ancient rivals, cruel bullies who treated his kin like disposable toys. To see them reduced to chum in a matter of minutes was beyond his comprehension. Maybe he isn't a madman, Kemi realized. He's just that much stronger.
Five minutes later, the stream ran red. A hundred corpses littered the banks or drifted aimlessly downstream. The Coralfang Tribe had been erased from the map.
[Ding! The Coralfang Tribe has been annihilated. Calculating Kill Points...]
[Success. You have gained 11 Kill Points. Current Total: 90.]
[Recommended Class: Phantom Rogue (Affinity Score: 65). Would you like to spend KP to unlock this class?]
[Resistance: Physical 20% / Magic 34%]
[Mana Regen: 1.2/sec]
Calder scowled at the screen. An entire tribe for a measly ten points? It was a pittance compared to the Feral Beasts in the Proving Grounds. And the recommended class hadn't even budged.
"Trash," Calder spat. These things were weaker than Oasis Finfolk—the lowest tier of aquatic monsters. Killing them was a waste of time. He grabbed Kemi by the scruff of his neck, his gaze dangerous. "Are you playing games with me?"
Kemi squeaked, his legs kicking the air. "N-no! Boss, I swear!"
"These bottom-feeders aren't enemies," Calder sneered. "They're pests. I don't get stronger by stepping on ants."
Kemi swallowed hard, his voice trembling. "You... you said you wanted to kill everything that could be killed! I thought..."
Calder went silent for a moment, then dropped the creature back onto his shoulder. "One more chance. My time is the only thing more valuable than my life. Do not waste it on fodder."
Kemi nodded frantically. "I've got it! I've got it! To the west—there’s a cave. A Manticore Whelp. It’s young, but it’s a monster among monsters. It’ll be a real fight, I promise!"
A Manticore. Calder’s eyes narrowed. That was a step up. Even a juvenile was in the same league as a Centipede Fiend. If allowed to mature, they were apex predators that feasted on Green Oni and Hippogriffs.
"Lead the way."
Kemi didn't dare hesitate. He directed Calder with surgical precision until they reached a jagged limestone fissure. The air near the cave smelled of sulfur and rotting meat.
The Manticore Whelp was a nightmare of biology. It had the body of a lion, leathery dragon wings tipped with spurs, and a human-like face that looked stretched over a feline skull. Its tail was a twenty-foot lash of chitinous bone, tipped with two dozen venomous spikes. Even at only ten feet long, it radiated a primal pressure that the fish-men couldn't dream of.
[Manticore Whelp]
Level — 10
Innate Ability — 1. Spine Regrowth | 3. Apex Predator
Stamina — 144/293
As Calder stepped into the light, the beast’s human face contorted. It let out a roar that vibrated in Calder's marrow—a warning to the intruder to vacate its territory.
Calder ignored it. He shifted his right arm into a heavy Ossein Sword, the white bone gleaming in the dim light. "Ten minutes," he told Kemi. "Start thinking about the next one."
Kemi gulped. He couldn't decide if he was more afraid of the Manticore's venom or Calder’s terrifying confidence.
The Manticore lunged, its tail whipping forward like a thunderclap. Calder didn't flinch. He stepped inside the arc of the strike, the Ossein Sword coming down in a brutal, vertical cleave. The heavy blade sheared through the base of the tail, severing it completely.
The beast’s roar turned into a shriek of agony. Kemi’s shoulders slumped in relief. Right, he thought. I should definitely be thinking about the next one.
Ten minutes later, the Manticore was a collection of neatly butchered segments.
[Ding! Manticore Whelp slain. You have gained 22 Kill Points. Current Total: 160.]
[Recommended Class: Phantom Rogue (Affinity Score: 76). Would you like to spend KP to unlock this class?]
[Move Speed: 7.8]
Still no change in the class, Calder mused. But the points confirmed his theory: quality mattered. One elite juvenile was worth triple an entire tribe of weaklings. The system rewarded those who hunted at the edge of their limits.
Calder didn't let the remains go to waste. He plunged a Chain Scourge into the carcass, activating his harvest.
[Left Leg Blight Index: +2!]
Kemi watched the Manticore's corpse shrivel into a husk, his face turning a sickly shade of green. Before Calder could even look at him, the Pygmari started blabbing.
"West! Further west is a Minotaur Calf—he’s the one who used to bully this Manticore. He’s much tougher! And to the east, there’s a Vikk Sludger warband. Southwest, an Owlbear nest. Northwest, a Carrion Beast. Further north, the Bogmauler..."
Kemi rattled off a list of every local terror he knew. Some were packs, some were solitary monsters, but all were a tier above the fish-men. Calder filtered through the list, mapping out the most efficient route.
The slaughter in the primeval forest began in earnest.
Novice Zone 911
[Ding! Congratulations to players Ray, Caden, and others for successfully completing the Novice Trial. Requirements for Class Advancement met. Would you like to enter The Ascension Shrine?]
As the final monster on the Surge Grounds collapsed, Ray fell to his knees, gasping for air. He was covered in grime and dried blood, his muscles twitching with exhaustion.
"Finally... we’re done," he wheezed.
Caden stood nearby, using his spear as a crutch. They had been fighting almost non-stop since the world ended yesterday. "What's the play? We going for the advancement?"
"No choice," Ray said, rubbing his jaw. "You think that guy—Calder—has finished his quest yet?"
Caden shook his head grimly. "Who knows? He's on a level we can't even perceive. He isn't playing the same game as us."
Ray let out a self-deprecating laugh. "True. Comparing ourselves to that monster is just a good way to get depressed. He wiped out a thousand-man army like they were an inconvenience."
"Don't hold a grudge," Caden warned. "Our loss wasn't his fault. We chose that fight. If anything, we should be glad he was in Zone 911. If he hadn't held the line, we’d be like the other zones."
The group went quiet. Ever since Calder had vanished into the forest, the world announcements had been a constant, terrifying rhythm in the sky.
[World Announcement: Novice Zone 1643 has been overrun. It is now The Unclaimed Wastes.]
[World Announcement: Novice Zone 5422 has been overrun. It is now The Unclaimed Wastes.]
[World Announcement: Novice Zone 2345 has been overrun. It is now The Unclaimed Wastes.]
"That’s what... ten thousand zones now?" someone whispered.
"More," another player replied, his voice trembling. "I’ve been counting. It’s past twelve thousand. Each zone had thousands of people. That’s tens of millions... just gone."
The reality of their situation settled over them like a shroud. This wasn't a game. It wasn't an adventure. It was an extinction event.
Ray looked up at the golden text flickering in the sky. "Accept it now. The world we knew is dead. The next few days are only going to get bloodier."
The despair was palpable. The high of surviving the trial evaporated, replaced by the crushing weight of the future.
"That's why we have to stick together," Caden said, his voice rising to find some semblance of leadership. "If... if we could get Calder to lead us, or even just help us, we might actually have a chance."
The players pictured it: Calder moving through the monsters like a scythe through wheat. Having a man like that as a shield would be the ultimate security.
"Forget it," Ray snapped. "Vance tried to play politics with him and paid with his life. Calder doesn't want followers. He wants results. If you want to survive, stop looking for a savior and start looking at your Advancement Quest."
Caden went silent for a long moment, then straightened his back. "Right. I'm going in. Now."
"Now? You're half-dead!" Ray stared at him.
"We've wasted too much time," Caden said, his eyes hard. "If we don't push now, we won't be strong enough to survive the next wave. I’d rather die trying to level up than wait around to be culled."
Ray gritted his teeth and stood up. "Fine. I'm in."
One by one, the survivors of Zone 911 stood. They watched the sky as more golden letters appeared—the names of fallen zones scrolling by in a relentless stream. Millions of lives were being extinguished every hour across Azura.
Fear was a powerful motivator, and as they looked toward the Ascension Shrine, they knew that for most of them, this was the last time they would see each other alive.