Hope exhaled slowly, steadying his breath.
The cave was quiet now, save for the distant sounds of battle echoing through the tunnels.
The Veil's voice had faded, leaving behind nothing but the bitter taste of disappointment.
No memory.
"Tch."
He glanced at the ruined remains of the Ant Fiend beneath him.
The kill had been clean, efficient—yet the Veil had deemed it unworthy of reward.
But Hope didn't dwell on it for long.
He crouched down, his fingers running across the fiend's cracked exoskeleton before finding what he was looking for—
A weak spot.
Without hesitation, he drove his sickle-like dagger into the exposed flesh, slicing through muscle and sinew.
A low squelch filled the air as he dug deeper, his hand disappearing into the fiend's cooling body.
Then, his fingers brushed against something solid.
With a sharp tug, he ripped out the soul core—
A fist-sized orb, pulsing with a dull crimson glow.
The light flickered for a moment before Hope dismissed it into his soul sea.
It was the only thing he had gained from this fight.
And it wasn't much.
"Perfect," he muttered, wiping the blood off his dagger.
His only memory was gone—shattered beyond repair.
All he had left was this crude sickle dagger.
Not ideal.
Not even close.
He needed a better weapon—soon.
But for now...
He had to keep moving.
Hope climbed out of the pit, his steps careful, avoiding the loose gravel that could betray his position.
The cavern stretched out before him, its jagged walls twisting into unknown paths.
Then—
A sound.
Sharp. Distant. Familiar.
Hope froze, his body going completely still.
His head turned slightly—his sharp eyes scanning the darkness.
Somewhere ahead, the sound repeated.
Hope's fingers instinctively tightened around his weapon.
"Fighting."
Not too far from here.
And from the rhythm of the noise, it wasn't just one person.
Curiosity flickered in his mind, but he didn't move immediately.
Instead, he did what he always did—
He watched.
Hope stepped into the shadows, allowing the darkness to wrap around him.
His awakened abilities activated effortlessly, shrouding him in near-complete invisibility.
His footsteps vanished.
His breathing slowed.
His presence faded.
To any normal observer—
Hope wasn't there.
He moved soundlessly through the cavern, following the distant sounds of battle.
Then, finally—
He found them.
A Fight Already Lost
Three figures.
They were young—students.
Hope recognized them immediately.
Awakened.
Just like him.
They had ganged up against an Ant Fiend, the same type of creature he had barely managed to kill just moments ago.
They fought well.
Coordinated.
But not good enough.
Hope crouched behind a jagged rock, his eyes narrowing as he observed them.
Their teamwork was messy—a clash of conflicting styles rather than a seamless unit.
One student, wielding a long spear, took the lead, thrusting forward with practiced precision.
But the Ant Fiend was fast—too fast.
It weaved through their attacks, its dagger-like mandibles snapping dangerously close to their limbs.
The second contestant, a girl with twin short swords, tried to flank it—
But she was too slow.
Too hesitant.
Her movements were predictable—and the fiend saw through them instantly.
The third student—
A bulky fighter wielding a massive broadsword—
Was struggling the most.
His swings were wild, reckless, each one leaving him open for a counterattack.
Hope almost sighed.
"This is a disaster."
The three of them had no chance.
They didn't realize it yet—
But Hope could already see their defeat.
They thought they were winning—
But they were only delaying the inevitable.
Hope watched, hidden in the darkness, completely undetected.
He wasn't here to help.
He wasn't here to interfere.
He was here for one reason—
To see what happened next.
Or maybe steal a kill.