Gleam was a Crystal Golem—
Unlike creatures of flesh and blood, golems were simpler beings, animated by one vital element: their core.
Everything else—limbs, body, armor—could be broken, replaced, rebuilt. But the core?
The core was its soul. Its heart. Destroy that, and a golem truly died.
Golems didn't regenerate naturally like organic beings. They needed fuel—raw materials to reconstruct themselves. And for Gleam, a Crystal Golem, that meant minerals, ores… or better yet, mana stones and crystals.
Ideally, that meant refined mana crystals. They had none.
But they did have something else. Monster cores. Plenty of them.
Alex reached into his storage ring and pulled a few out. Most were recent spoils—rock-affinity cores, dense with earth mana. Not perfect, but close. Their elemental alignment matched Gleam's crystalline makeup.
Sherry followed suit, retrieving ores and a handful of cores from her own inventory. She paused mid-motion, glancing at the ones Alex had placed beside Gleam's fractured form.
"You sure about this?" she asked quietly, noticing him taking out some from his personal stash.
Alex gave a small shrug. "He saved my life back there. Seems like a fair trade."
Thinking of something, he then reached into his storage ring and pulled out a small, glass vial.
Sherry blinked in surprise. "A healing potion?"
He didn't answer immediately, kneeling beside the faintly pulsing core of Gleam.
"That won't work." Sherry said gently, "Healing potions don't affect constructs. Even if they did, the effects would be negligible. Potions don't work for artificial life forms."
He just smiled and uncapped it with a soft pop. "Wouldn't hurt to try."
This wasn't a standard potion—it was one he'd purchased from the system store, and those often had effects far beyond what was listed on the label.
Aurora, who had remained silent until now, stepped up beside him.
"You know…" she said thoughtfully, "this might actually be a blessing in disguise."
Alex turned to her. "How so?"
"Rebuilding like this, especially with so many monster cores and the potions help, it will accelerate its growth." Her eyes glimmered. "With strengthening of the foundation and alteration of the structure."
She smiled faintly. "This isn't just recovery. When Gleam wakes up… he might not just be fixed."
She paused, voice soft but sure. "He might evolve. Advance to B-rank."
Alex blinked, considering that.
That would be… huge.
With a shimmer of light, Gleam's fragmented body began to dissolve, the scattered shards vanishing into streams of mana that spiraled upward, then disappeared into Sherry's summoning space.
◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆ ◇ ◆
Alex rose to his feet, brushing loose gravel and crystal shards. Around him, the rocky expanse buzzed with movement—more and more students were arriving, drawn by the dense monster population and the lure of easy points.
This zone had been a goldmine just hours ago. Now, it was overcrowded and overhunted.
He narrowed his eyes, scanning the jagged cliffs and shallow craters left behind by earlier skirmishes. The tension in the air had shifted—no longer sharp with danger, but cluttered with the quiet chaos of too many hunters chasing too few targets.
"We should move." he said, turning toward Sherry.
They had lingered here for hours, and it had served them well. Their rank now sat somewhere in the low 100s—an incredible leap given how little time had passed. Less than a week in, and they had already amassed over a hundred thousand points.
But staying any longer would be unwise. There was nothing left to gain—and too much attention to dodge.
Alex tapped his storage ring, summoning his drifter disk. He offered Sherry a hand. "Let's go see some greenery."
She nodded and climbed on behind him. With a subtle pulse of mana, the disk lifted into the air, gliding smoothly over the jagged stone terrain as they soared toward their next destination.
They left the barren rocklands behind—where jagged gray spires stabbed the sky like broken spears—and the landscape began to change.
It wasn't green in the traditional sense, but it was a shift nonetheless.
Here, the trees loomed taller, their bark a dull, chalky gray. The leaves were oversized and deep red, fluttering like brittle paper in the wind. Roots twisted along the ground like tangled veins, and the air carried a faint, metallic tang.
Despite the lifeless palette, a strange tension clung to the forest.
This was the habitat of another type of B-rank monster: Silverback Monkeys.
A faint mist began to settle as they ventured deeper into the crimson woods.
It wasn't thick—just a pale, drifting haze that clung low to the ground, curling around roots and stones like a living thing. It blurred outlines, softened edges, and obscured movement just enough to raise the hairs on the back of one's neck.
Alex narrowed his gaze. "This is it."
Sherry scanned their surroundings warily. "It feels like something's watching."
"They are," Alex said calmly. "They've been watching us since we entered the glade."
He nodded, stepping carefully over a tangle of roots. "They're not called Silverback Monkeys for nothing."
Unlike the brutish Stonehide Grizzlies, these monsters were a different kind of threat entirely.
They were named for their sleek, silver fur—shimmering and adaptive, it allowed them to blend seamlessly into their surroundings, shifting subtly to mimic the forest's hues and shadows. Their stealth was highly advanced. They could mask not only their physical form but their mana signature as well, rendering themselves nearly undetectable.
Only the soft crunch of a displaced leaf. A slight shift in the mist. A flicker just beyond the edge of vision. That was all the warning you'd get.
Alex had studied them thoroughly.
The Monster Encyclopaedia described them as one of the most maddening species within their rank bracket. Not because of overwhelming power—but because of their elusiveness, unpredictability, and unnerving intelligence.
They stalked adventurers like a game, often without attacking. Highly playful yet undeniably dangerous, they delighted in disarming their targets—stealing weapons with uncanny precision and, at times, turning them against their original owners just for amusement.
Despite their frail bodies and low durability, Silverback Monkeys were classified as B-rank threats purely because of their trickster tactics, high speed, and almost impossible-to-track presence.
From what he knew—and from Aurora's earlier reconnaissance—Alex was confident no other students would come here.
Let alone students—even seasoned adventurers tended to avoid them. The reason was simple: a frontal assault was manageable. It was the unseen, the sudden, and the silent that people feared.
He was confident. Not reckless. Coming here hadn't been a gamble.
It was a calculated decision—one born from two key advantages he now possessed.
First: another one of his newly acquired D-rank skill—Sixth Sense. Though Alex preferred to call it Danger Sense.
Second: Aurora. The Silverback Monkey's stealth didn't equate to invisibility. Aurora could soar high above the canopy, her spiritual nature allowing her to pierce through illusion and haze with ease. She could sense faint mana trails—especially once the creatures closed in within a few hundred meters.
Sherry stood just behind him, tension radiating from her like heat. Her eyes darted through the mist, searching for movement. Her fingers clenched tightly around the fabric of her dress, white-knuckled.
Alex turned to her and whispered, "It's okay. Stay sharp. Don't move unless I say."
She gave a tight nod, lips pressed into a thin, determined line.
He narrowed his gaze and adjusted his grip on his weapon. "Time to turn the tables."
"Aurora," he said internally, "keep watch. Let me know when you see one."
"That's only natural," she replied with a confident nod. "I'm already sensing one. It's circling you now. Coming closer, slowly… behind you, to the left. It's at 100 meters… now 70…"
Alex exhaled, steady and controlled, letting his heartbeat settle. His body stayed loose, relaxed—but his stance was wound tight, like a spring ready to snap.
"50 meters..."
A rustle in the brush to his left. A subtle shift in the mist.
Then—nothing.
"10 meters—Now, Alex!"
He moved instantly. Spinning on his heel, Alex slashed his blade in a smooth, horizontal arc. It seemed to cut empty air—until it didn't.
The blade met resistance.
A silvery blur flickered into view mid-swing. The monkey's fur shimmered, its body briefly visible as its wide eyes locked onto Alex's. It had been reaching for the pouch at his belt—likely aiming to steal a decoy.
It squealed sharply as the blade cleaved through its side, the strike clean and decisive—like a hot knife through butter.
It gave a last sharp, choked cry before collapsing, eyes wide, locked in an expression of frozen disbelief.
A moment later, it lay still. Dead before it even hit the ground.
From above, Aurora's voice came, sharp and urgent.
"Three more incoming."