Hope's breathing was steady, but his muscles ached from the fight.
His fingers twitched slightly as the last remnants of adrenaline faded.
Slowly, he took a step forward, his boots crunching against the damp cave floor as he observed the lifeless husk of the Scavenger Crab before him.
The fiend lay motionless, its grotesque body slumped over, jagged legs twisted at odd angles. Dark ichor oozed from the deep wounds he had inflicted, pooling beneath its segmented shell.
But something… wasn't right.
Hope's sharp eyes narrowed.
Then he saw it.
A deep, severe wound along the creature's side, running from its abdomen to its lower carapace.
That wasn't his doing.
The edges of the wound were ragged and torn, unlike the clean, sharp cuts he had made with his daggers.
Hope clicked his tongue, his previous excitement dampened.
"So, it was already injured before the fight, huh?"
His fingers curled slightly as he processed the information.
For a brief moment, he had actually thought he'd taken down the monster like a true hunter, purely by his own skill.
Now, it seemed like fate had been on his side more than he realized.
He exhaled through his nose, shaking his head.
"Doesn't matter. A kill is a kill."
And in the Ashlands, victory wasn't about honor—it was about survival.
Hope knelt beside the fiend's corpse, withdrawing his twin daggers from his belt.
Using his normal dagger, he pressed the curved edge against the Scavenger Crab's unprotected belly, right between the overlapping plates of its exoskeleton.
With a firm, practiced motion, he sliced through the soft tissue, carving an opening in its flesh.
A wet, sickening tear filled the air as the body split apart.
A wave of foul stench hit him immediately.
Hope grimaced but didn't flinch.
He had scavenged through worse.
Reaching his hand into the fiend's still-warm innards, he felt around with his fingers, searching—
Until his hand brushed against something solid.
Hope's grip tightened, and he carefully pulled the object free.
As he withdrew his hand, a faint red glow illuminated his face.
A pulsating, fist-sized crystal lay in his palm, its deep crimson light flickering like a dying ember.
The surface was rough, yet strangely warm—almost as if it still carried the last remnants of the fiend's life force.
Hope held it up, examining the way the dim cave light reflected off its jagged surface.
It wasn't his first time seeing a Soul Core.
But it was the first one he had earned with his own hands.
He exhaled slowly, then focused his will.
The Soul Core trembled—
Then, in a flicker of dark energy, it vanished from his grasp, dissolving into thin air as it was stored into his Soul Sea.
A brief pulse ran through his body.
Warm.
Subtle.
But definitely there.
Hope's lips twitched slightly.
"Not bad."
Continuing the Hunt
Rising to his feet, he wiped the excess ichor from his hands onto the dead fiend's shell before tightening his grip on his daggers.
The cave stretched ahead, winding deeper into the unknown.
Hope took a moment to listen—
Silence.
But that meant nothing.
In a place like this, danger was never too far away.
He rolled his shoulders, stepping forward.
"Let's continue the hunt."
His voice was barely above a whisper—
But the darkness around him seemed to stir in response.
With steady, silent steps, Hope disappeared once more into the darkness.