A Month Later.
.
.
.
It was hard to believe how much had changed.
In the span of just four weeks, Grey had gone from barely grasping the basics of mana to wielding a terrifying power—one that could level anything in his path, so long as he was willing to pay the price.
The Fire of Sacrifice.
Elsa had shown him how to awaken it. But mastering it? That was a road he walked alone—painful, dangerous, and addicting. Every day was a relentless cycle of experimentation and training, pushing the boundaries of what his body could endure under Elsa's watchful eye.
Now, a month later, that effort bore fruit.
Swish!
A massive claw tore through the air with a shrill hiss. Grey ducked at the last second, his black robe slicing through the wind like liquid shadow. The claw missed by a hair—close enough that the sheer pressure carved a thin line across his cheek.
Screeech!
The monster roared and lunged again, its other claw raised, mouth stretching wide—revealing jagged, bone-white teeth. It was a grotesque fusion of reptile and insect, its black carapace slick with slime. Bulging muscles pulsed beneath its skin, glowing with fiery veins.
A true D-rank predator—far deadlier than the lava beast he'd fought last Month.
Grey's golden eyes didn't flinch.
His flame-coated spear shot forward like a bolt of lightning and pierced the creature's abdomen.
Shlunk!
Thick, steaming blood burst out in jets, splattering Grey's face and robe—but he didn't flinch.
Didn't feel it.
Because he couldn't.
His sense of touch, pain, even smell—all gone for the next hour.
That was the price of invoking fire strong enough to rival a D-rank mage for five minutes.
The flame coursed through him like a second heartbeat, pure and unforgiving.
The creature shrieked, flapping its wings hard. It shot up above the treetops, circling once, then dove with terrifying speed—claws outstretched, mouth wide.
It was aiming to end him in one crushing blow.
Grey didn't move.
He simply smiled.
A dense orb of fire gathered in his palm—not a flicker like before, but a tight, compact core of molten heat.
Controlled.
Deadly.
He tossed it into the air.
Then rolled right, narrowly dodging the creature's dive.
The fireball sailed into the monster's gaping mouth.
BOOM!
A muffled explosion erupted inside its skull. Flames blasted from its eyes and nostrils. Its body flailed mid-air, wings failing.
Grey didn't hesitate.
He lunged forward, spinning beneath the collapsing beast, and drew his dagger in one smooth motion.
Shlick!
The blade sliced across the monster's exposed throat with clinical precision.
Thud.
The corpse hit the ground, motionless.
Smoke and blood mingled in the air—but Grey couldn't smell it. His nerves were silent, pain receptors numb. Even if his skin had been flayed or scorched, he wouldn't have noticed.
That was the cost of power.
He stood still, breathing slowly. The fire retreated, the rune on his neck dimming as it grew satisfied.
Grey looked over the monster's corpse, scanning for any signs of runes.
Nothing.
"…"
For the past month, he had been fighting monsters nonstop—gathering experience and testing the limits of his new power.
He turned his hand over, studying the flickering flame hovering above his palm.
"This is the extent," he muttered. "With only temporary sacrifices… this is the limit of the fire I can wield."
He'd sacrificed countless sensations over the past month, testing what could be given and what power could be gained in return.
And now, he knew.
D-rank.
With temporary sacrifices, he could fight against D-rank threats without much trouble. But C-rank? He could try—but it would cost him something greater. Something permanent.
And he wasn't ready for that.
Not yet.
It was then he heard it.
Clap. Clap.
A slow, deliberate applause echoed behind him.
"Well, that was flashy," came Elsa's voice, casual and amused. She stepped from behind a tree, her red hair catching the dying light of the sun. Her Deep blue eyes gleamed with interest.
"That one was stronger than the lava beast," she said, examining the corpse. "A real D-rank. And you made it look easy."
"What did you sacrifice?" she asked, tilting her head.
"My sense of pain, touch, and smell—for three hours."
She frowned slightly. "Hmm. And? Notice anything?"
"Yeah," Grey replied, wiping blood off his cheek. "It's a bad combo—pain and touch. Losing both at once makes it hard to judge what's happening to my body."
He flexed his fingers, still tingling with lingering heat. "If I give up just one—like pain—I can still feel impact, pressure. Know if I've been slashed, or how deep it went. But if I lose both…"
He shook his head.
Elsa nodded, looking genuinely pleased. "Good. You're learning."
Then she grinned. "Still, I bet it's going to hurt like hell later."
She giggled at his deadpan silence.
"At least you didn't give up your legs this time," she added teasingly, leaning back against the tree. Her deep blue eyes sparkled mischievously. "Or your nose. That one was hilarious."
"…Shut up."
Grey sheathed his dagger, storing it back into his rune.
"But I have to say—" Elsa's tone softened. "You've gotten faster. More precise. Stronger."
"…Of course," Grey said simply. Then, glancing at her, he added, "I've had a good teacher."
Elsa smirked. "Heh. So you can give credit when it's due."
She looked back at the monster's corpse, then at the still-glowing rune on his neck.
"The Fire of Sacrifice…" she murmured. "It suits you."
Yes.
Yes, it did.