A week later, Gray still remained in the village. Pike never came. The monster (nowhere near as terrifying as the rumors suggested) already lay dead in a ravine.
— Alright, — Gray said, slinging his pack over his shoulder. — I'm moving on. Take care of yourselves.
— Wait! — The girl he'd saved shouted after him. — Take this. You'll need it more than us.
She handed Gray a sword. A real one—forged from quality steel. A rare treasure in this world.
— Whoa... Thanks.
For a brief moment, Gray felt something warm flicker in his chest.
"I'm no hero. My target is that bastard."
He tightened his backpack straps. East seemed like a good direction—he could sell his trophies there and gather information.
The journey would be long. The forest he walked through was a strange place—trees grew straight through ruins, their roots strangling crumbling walls. People had lived here once. Gray stepped carefully—danger often lurked in such places.
Then he saw him.
A stranger stood blocking the path. Something about him radiated malice. Hands in pockets, relaxed posture, a mocking grin. His sharp eyes assessed Gray like a predator sizing up prey.
Gray's hand instinctively reached for his blade. In that same instant—
The stranger vanished.
And reappeared a centimeter from Gray's face.
Gray barely managed to leap back.
— So you're the one... — The voice sounded almost disappointed. — Just some monster-hunting nobody. And here I thought someone was challenging my territory. Time for a lesson.
Gray moved on pure reflex. His blade flashed—
But the stranger caught his wrist effortlessly, then drove a fist into his solar plexus.
WHAM.
Gray flew five meters back, crashing through a rotten column. The air exploded from his lungs in a wheezing gasp.
— Damn it! — The stranger examined his hand, where a thin cut oozed blood. — You actually made me bleed. Ever heard of not swinging sharp objects recklessly?
Gray curled around the agony. No one had hit him this hard since... since he'd first started hunting. Blood filled his mouth. His hands trembled. But he forced himself up.
— Griefers are out of your league, kid. — The stranger yawned.
Bony fingers tangled in Gray's hair—
CRUNCH.
His face smashed into the stone wall. Brickwork shattered. Warm blood trickled down his temple.
And then Gray remembered.
That same terror.
Overwhelming power. The crushing realization of being an insect beneath a boot.
— Alright, little hunter... Let's end this. — The stranger reached into his pocket.
A knife gleamed, its edge sheathed in dark energy.
"Is this it? After everything... I die here? Without ever getting strong enough—?"