River took his ti.
A few minutes of rest—just enough to recover so strength for what he was about to do.
He knelt on the ground, pulled his bag close, and started rummaging through it. The backpack, compact yet durable, was one of the most expensive items he’d ever purchased. He’d spent a huge sum of his ager salary and savings on it—just to be properly prepared for the Awakening Ceremony.
Inside, he kept everything he might need.
First, he pulled out a container with a small Ice Attribute Stone embedded at its center. Like a portable mini-fridge, it kept his food fresh. He hadn’t packed much—just beef jerky and a few pieces of bread—but that was more than enough. And if he ran out, he was confident in his ability to hunt down edible monsters.
Alongside the food, River had packed gear tailored for survival and hunting: a utility knife sheathed at his waist, a lighter, a sturdy rope, and a handful of smoke bombs. That was all he could afford without dipping into the money set aside for his younger brother’s tuition.
He picked up the rope and examined it.
It was eight ters long, about two and a half centiters thick, and pitch black. The material ca from so monster carcass the seller had refused to na—called it a "trade secret." Strong and light, it was a popular choice among those attempting their Awakening Ceremony.
The smoke bombs were simple but reliable. Upon impact—or a button press—they released a thick cloud. Cheap, overlooked by many, but they had their uses. In the right hands, even small tools could tip the balance.
All of these ca from the Hunter facilities in Voulton City. That place was a haven for aspiring Hunters: specialized weapons, enhancent vials, potions, gear of every kind. River planned to return one day—after he’d earned the strength and funds to walk in with pride.
But that was a dream for the future.
Right now, he had to kill this Smokey Wolf.
His second real fight.
The Slis he’d hunted to reach Level 3? Nothing but warm-ups. Staying in that area and grinding would take too long. With every Level gained, the Experience Point requirent climbed higher.
Efficiency ant seeking out stronger prey.
He peeked from behind his cover.
There it was—a young Smokey Wolf, resting in the shadow of a massive tree. Its eyes were closed, but its ears twitched occasionally, clearly alert. It was listening to the distant chaos of other Candidates fighting further in the forest.
It had heard him.
River knew that much. But the wolf hadn’t moved. It just lay there, still and composed, as if waiting for him to make the first move.
Arrogance.
River smirked. "Even better."
That confidence would be its downfall.
If luck was on his side—and the random EXP amplifier kicked in—he might hit Level 4 instantly after killing it. If the gods were feeling generous? Maybe even Level 5.
But first, he had to earn it.
Once he Level Up? He’d likely need to take down two Smokey Wolves to advance.
Reaching at least Level 5 before heading to the Quest zone should be enough—barely. It was still below the average world Level, but he didn’t have the luxury of being ideal. His original plan had been to reach Level 8 or 9 before even setting foot near it.
But with the Sun God Mage on the prowl?
Plans had to change.
Maybe he was overthinking. Maybe he was being paranoid. But caution kept people alive. And besides, there were still lesser-known dungeons scattered across the world—hidden places not many knew about. Once he ended the Awakening Ceremony, he could grind his way through them.
The Quest in this dungeon wasn’t legendary, but it was powerful enough to push a newly awakened Hunter to around Level 15 in one shot. If he pulled it off, he’d skyrocket in strength. In the original tiline, the first person who discovered this Quest had received widespread recognition—but River wouldn’t make that sa mistake. He’d stay silent. Invisible.
In front of him, the lone Smokey Wolf stretched its legs and yawned, fangs glinting. It was getting bored, clearly waiting for him to reveal himself.
Unlike the mindless Slis from earlier, this thing was a real threat. Still young, but powerful enough to tear through a human like paper.
River couldn’t rush in swinging.
He needed strategy. Precision. Speed.
Gripping the black rope tightly, River inhaled slowly. His breathing slowed to a near-stop, just enough to keep his body moving without making a sound. His presence faded—blended in with the air, the ground, the forest.
Every step he took, he made sure to land soft and light, the muffled sounds of distant fighting masking whatever rustle he created.
The Smokey Wolf’s ears twitched.
Its crimson eyes opened as it scanned its surroundings, sensing sothing off. But by that ti, River was already behind another tree, crouched low and out of sight.
He tied one end of the rope tightly around the thick trunk. A quick tug. Secure.
From his bag, he pulled out two smoke bombs and his knife.
Now ca the wait.
The Smokey Wolf rose to its feet, tail slowly swaying, growling low and deep. Its fangs were bared, its stance aggressive but wary.
Perfect.
River stayed completely still, timing his move to the rhythm of the wolf’s breathing. As soon as it turned its back—
He moved.
With two quick tosses, he flung the smoke bombs toward the creature’s feet.
Bang! Bang!
The bombs burst on impact, flooding the area with thick, greyish-white smoke. A furious howl tore through the fog, the wolf thrashing and snarling. The smoke clung to the air, refusing to thin, clouding its vision.
River didn’t stop. He slipped to the side, quiet as a shadow.
Inside the smoke, the Smokey Wolf twitched its ears, tracking phantom sounds.
Suddenly—footsteps.
The wolf snapped its head toward the noise, enraged. With a loud snarl, it lunged forward—only to stumble and fall with a thud, its hind leg yanked violently backward.
A sharp, startled growl escaped its throat.
It looked down.
There, tightly wrapped around its leg, was a rope. Anchored to the tree behind it.
River exhaled through his nose, eyes cold and focused.
Phase One: Complete.
Reviews
All reviews (0)