The sun was sliding down behind the ridgeline when Valerius reached the town once more. Smoke curled from the chimneys like soft ropes. Merchants shouted louder than before, trying to sell the last of their goods before night claimed the roads. Candlelight flickered inside wooden stalls, and the heavy smell of roasted meat drifted into the street.
To others, it was a normal evening in a small frontier town.
To Valerius, it was a battlefield of opportunities.
He walked with a calm stride, the beast heads wrapped in tough vine-rope and slung over his shoulder. Blood dripped slowly down his back, but he didn't mind. People stepped aside when they saw the size of the heads—two huge wolf skulls with cracked jaws and twin tails hanging limp like broken shadows.
The town's guards watched him with caution. A few hunters whispered. To them, he looked like a newcomer who killed something far above his level. Some saw a potential ally. Some saw a threat. Valerius ignored them all.
His mind was focused on profit—and the system's quiet hum inside him, warm and steady.
The mission hall looked different at dusk. Lanterns were lit around the large wooden board, and many of the day's hunters sat at long tables sorting pelts, cores, or cleaning blades. The same thin clerk from earlier stood near the ledger, yawning as if he had been awake since sunrise.
Valerius approached the desk and dropped the wrapped bundle to the floor. It landed with a heavy thud. The clerk nearly jumped.
"P–proof submission?" the man asked, wiping sweat from his brow.
Valerius nodded. "Posting ID T-032."
The clerk blinked. "The Two-Tailed Shadow Blood Wolf assignment?"
He crouched down, untied the rope, and the heads rolled out. A sharp gasp escaped him.
"This—these are three!"
"You can count," Valerius said lightly.
Hunters nearby looked over. One cursed under his breath. Another murmured, "This guy's insane…"
The clerk's hands trembled as he compared the features to the illustrations on the mission scroll. After a moment, he quickly stamped the verification seal.
"T-the posting was submitted by Merchant Holran. He left the reward with us earlier today since he was leaving for the next village."
He handed Valerius a small leather pouch. The familiar clink of Bronze Essence Coins pressed lightly against his palm. Valerius counted them—thirty, exactly.
The clerk bowed his head. "Sir, if you bring more… similar results, the town head might want to see you."
Valerius said nothing. He turned and walked toward the street as hunters stared at him like one stares at a sharp blade left on a table—useful, but dangerous.
The coins felt warm in his grasp. Not because of the money itself, but because they represented the first steps of this world's ladder.
He tucked them into the pouch at his belt and headed toward a quiet alley where he could think.
⸻
[System Notice]
Public Reward Acquired.
Total Bronze Essence Coins: 30
Technique Status: "Abyssal Shadow Devouring Art" — Unmastered (Tier 0)
Recommended Path: Seek secluded area for Stage One trial.
⸻
Valerius leaned against a wooden post and listened to the system's calm voice. Its tone never changed—never cold, never warm. Just clear.
"What is the first trial?" he asked.
⸻
[Technique Trial Requirement — Stage One]
Consume life energy of one low-tier beast through direct contact.
Condition: Host must channel the technique without losing control.
Failure Result: Energy backlash (minor to moderate).
⸻
He considered this. A low-tier beast wasn't difficult. But the technique… it was dangerous. Forbidden in some places meant only one thing—it fed on life in a way most cultivators avoided.
Valerius did not avoid power anymore.
Still, he needed caution.
He stepped out of the alley and walked through the town, stopping at the small row of supply stalls. A woman selling dried rations raised a hand as he neared.
"You look new," she said. "Need food? Rope? Hunting tools?"
Valerius scanned her goods. He needed something simple—bread, jerky, and a small water skin. The basics. He pointed at them. "How much?"
"Eight bronze," she replied.
He paid without complaint. Money was no longer something he clung to. Strength would replace it soon enough.
As he walked on, he listened to the town's chatter.
"More beasts appearing lately…"
"Two hunters were found dead near the river path."
"Mission Hall might raise rewards next week."
Every voice was a sign of opportunity. Danger in Ashen Vale wasn't a curse—it was currency for the strong.
When the sky darkened fully, Valerius left the town through a side gate. The forest looked different at night: quiet, cold, and watchful. Small lights shone between the trees—glowing insects drifting lazily. Somewhere deeper, a beast growled.
Perfect.
He walked until the town lights faded behind him and stopped at a shallow stream. The water reflected moonlight like silver ripples, and the sound helped him focus. He knelt and washed his hands clean of dried blood.
Then he waited.
He didn't need to wait long.
A low rustling moved in the bushes on the opposite bank. Two yellow eyes blinked out. A Shadowfang Boar stepped forward, its tusks sharp and its fur bristling.
A low-tier beast. Aggressive. Perfect for the trial.
It grunted once, lowered its head, and charged.
Valerius didn't move at first. He watched the beast sprint through the water, splashing wildly. When it was close enough, he stepped aside. His hand shot out and grabbed its neck, slamming it onto the wet ground.
The boar squealed and twisted, but he held it in place.
"System," he said calmly. "Start the technique."
⸻
[Abyssal Shadow Devouring Art — Stage One Initiated]
Warning: Host will feel energy drain. Maintain breathing.
Begin.
⸻
Dark warmth pulsed through his arm. Something stirred inside his chest—like a shadow stretching awake after a long sleep. His vision dimmed around the edges. His palm grew cold.
Then the beast shuddered violently.
Life energy flowed through his hand like a river drawn by gravity. It was warm, like steam from a fresh meal, yet it carried the raw flavor of fear and instinct. The boar's struggles weakened. Its eyes rolled back. Its body slowly sagged under his grip.
A faint mist—almost invisible—rose from its skin.
Valerius exhaled, steady. Not trembling. Not fighting the pull—guiding it.
The dark current inside him coiled, absorbing the energy into something deeper, something hungry.
A few breaths later, the beast stopped moving. Its body was shriveled slightly, as if part of its strength had been eaten—not flesh, but life.
Valerius let it drop.
⸻
[System Update]
Stage One Trial Complete.
Technique Progress: 1% → 12%.
Stats increased: +1 Strength, +1 Constitution.
Body Compatibility with Abyssal Shadow Devouring Art: Stable.
⸻
He stood slowly, breathing deeply. The cold sensation faded, replaced by a quiet warmth that seeped into his limbs.
He felt stronger—subtly, but clearly.
He also felt… hungry.
Not for food.
For more.
He looked down at the beast's lifeless body and nudged it aside. It was useless now. The technique left no core behind, no energy worth harvesting for others. Only he benefited.
He turned away and walked deeper into the forest.
Tonight, he needed to understand this new technique better. Not through reading words—but through experience.
So he hunted.
He moved like a shadow between trees, quiet and patient. He stalked small beasts at first—spirit rabbits, dark-claw birds. Each one added a drip of energy into him. Not enough to raise his stats further, but enough to teach him control.
He felt the technique settle inside him. It responded to his will. It grew sharper with each use.
Hours passed. The moon moved slowly across the sky.
By the time he returned to the stream, he had absorbed the life of seven beasts. None strong. None dangerous. But the technique's hunger was calmer now. No longer wild, no longer unstable.
He washed again and sat on a rock by the water. The night was cool on his skin.
The system chimed gently.
⸻
[Passive System Notice]
Technique Progress: 12% → 18%
Host Condition: Stable. Minor fatigue detected.
Recommendation: Rest before continuing cultivation.
⸻
Valerius lay back on the rock and stared at the moon. His mind was oddly quiet. His body felt both light and grounded.
The world had tried to break him before. Old memories flickered—faces, betrayals, the blade that ended his first life. But now, those memories felt distant.
Here, in Ashen Vale, there was no duty. No kindness expected. No forced sacrifice.
Only strength.
Only choices.
He chose cold paths now. He chose methods others feared. He chose power that tasted like shadows.
He slept lightly, one hand resting near his belt knife.
Morning came slow, with dim light stretching across the water. Birds cried in the distance. Valerius sat up at once, muscles ready.
Today, he needed to think ahead.
Coins would not last forever. And the mission hall would soon fill with newer postings. But he needed information—real information—about the stronger beasts, secret realms, treasure sites, and cultivation manuals this land hid.
The system provided basics, but the world held more.
He ate a small ration of dried meat, drank from the stream, and made his way back to the town.
People were awake already. Merchants rolled open their stalls. Children ran between houses. Hunters bragged about catches from the night.
As he passed through the busy market road, he noticed a gathering near the mission hall—a group of armored guards standing tall, and in their center, an older man with grey hair tied back and a short beard. His robe was clean and marked with the crest of the town.
The town head.
He was reading a report from the thin clerk, who pointed nervously toward Valerius.
The town head's eyes lifted.
Sharp. Calm.
Curious.
He walked toward Valerius with the steady pace of a man used to authority.
"You," he said, voice deep. "You took the Shadow Blood Wolf mission. All three beasts?"
Valerius nodded. "Yes."
"You killed them alone."
Another nod.
The man studied him with interest and a hint of caution. "We need strong hands in Ashen Vale. Beasts are growing bolder. Some hunters have gone missing. If you are willing, I have a private commission."
Private commission meant higher reward—and more risk.
Valerius didn't speak. He waited.
The town head lowered his voice.
"Two nights ago, a caravan vanished near Broken Spine Ridge. We sent scouts. Only blood and broken carts were found. Something stronger than a Shadow Blood Wolf is nesting there. I want it gone."
He handed Valerius a sealed parchment.
"Accept this, and the town will pay forty silver."
Forty silver. A fortune for someone at his stage.
But Valerius's focus was not on money.
If the beasts were growing stronger, then the technique would grow stronger too.
This was exactly the kind of challenge he needed.
"I'll take it," Valerius said.
The town head smiled faintly, but his eyes were sharp.
"Good. Try not to die."
Valerius turned away, tucking the sealed parchment into his belt.
Broken Spine Ridge.
Stronger beasts.
More energy to devour.
More steps on his path.
The system pulsed quietly inside him, like a heartbeat made of shadow.
He walked toward the town gates again—not with hesitation, but with purpose sharper than steel.
His new life was not built on kindness.
It was built on hunger.
And the world was full of things to consume