Brama stood amidst a pool of darkening blood, surveying the lifeless corpses of beasts strewn around him. His breath was still heavy, but his gaze remained calm—sharp as a freshly honed blade.
The carcasses of mad spirit hounds lay scattered in all directions, their bodies either piled up or slammed against tree trunks. The ground was soaked in blood and fur, and the air grew thick with the pungent scent of iron.
In the silence, he let out a long sigh.
"Do I always have to face packs like this?" he wondered.
But a faint smile curled at the corner of his lips.
"As long as I can handle it… no matter how many, it's fine."
Ding!
> You have gained total EXP: 77,400
> Would the host like to distribute the EXP?
"Yes, distribute it now." Brama answered shortly, without hesitation.
Ding!
> Brama leveled up: 11
Brama leveled up: 12
Ding!
> Ruda leveled up: 11
Ruda leveled up: 12
> You have 30 stat points to allocate.
Brama paused in thought. During the fight earlier, his VIT had felt too weak to absorb the blows. Luckily, his high AGI had saved him from many attacks. He knew well—in this world, power balance wasn't just about numbers, but decisions.
"I need stronger defense. But offense matters too."
He opened the holographic status screen with a simple command.
Brama's Status
Level 12 (11,200 / 37,600)
Cultivation: Spiritual Binding (2,600 / 10,000)
Attribute Base After Buff
STR 48 (82)
VIT 49 (83)
AGI 78 (133)
INT 35 (60)
DEF 54 (92)
> Buff/Debuff: +1% +2% +3% +4% -2% -5% +5% +50% +5%
Active Skills: –
Passive Skills: –
Brama allocated his 30 points as follows:
+4 STR | +9 VIT | +9 DEF | +8 AGI
"INT? Not yet. Without skills, it's just a dead number," he muttered.
Ruda's Status – Level 12 (11,200 / 37,600)
Cultivation: Spiritual Binding (2,600 / 10,000)
Attribute Base After Buff
STR 50 (79)
VIT 50 (79)
AGI 80 (126)
INT 80 (126)
DEF 45 (71)
Active Skills:
1. Peak – Quick beak strike
2. Ember Flap – Wings emit flame, 20% chance to ignite target
3. Blood Wing Burst – Channels blood energy into wings, increasing flight speed and slash power by 300% for 15 seconds (Cooldown: 2 minutes)
The scent of blood slowly spread through the area. The forest air turned heavy, sticky, like a mist cloaking a hunt.
Brama and Ruda moved quickly. They knew all too well—the scent of blood would attract more creatures. This wasn't a place to linger.
In a short time, they harvested soul stones from the bodies of the slain spirit hounds.
Total Soul Stones Collected:
170 Level 1 Basic Spirit Stones
6 Level 5 Stones
3 Level 6 Stones
3 Level 7 Stones
2 Level 8 Stones
1 Level 9 Stone
6 Level 10 Stones
3 Level 11 Stones
3 Level 12 Stones
2 Level 13 Stones
1 Level 14 Stone
1 Level 17 Stone
"This is enough to fill this leaf bag to the brim," Brama said quietly, adjusting the strap of the simple bag that now bulged.
He then took a step back, giving the battleground one last analytical glance.
> "System, why did the pack leader give less EXP than its underlings?"
Ding!
> EXP is calculated based on individual level, not social position or troop structure.
Brama nodded slightly. Makes sense. This world didn't recognize "rank" the way his old military life did. Power was law.
Time had crawled toward midday.
Brama glanced at the sky and asked,
"System, how long has it been since I left the cave and reached the hut that time?"
Ding!
> Estimated time: 6 hours of travel
"Then… how long would it take me to return to the cave now, given my current stats and condition?"
Ding!
> As this system version does not include a map feature, a precise estimate cannot be provided.
However, based on stat improvements and average speed, estimated travel time: ±2 hours—if the route is correct and unobstructed.
Brama thought for a moment.
His bag was full. He still had enough energy. But there was no room to store more soul stones.
"I'll return to the hut first."
At the Hut
Amon sat cross-legged, his face pale but better than before. His spiritual energy remained chaotic. The wounds he suffered were slowly closing, but his body was still weak—weaker than an ordinary human.
The death of his spirit beast had left scars not just physically, but existentially. His cultivation was halved, and it felt as though the world's energy now rejected his recovery.
While meditating, he felt the flow of energy was strange. Weak. Restrained.
"What is this…?" he whispered internally. "Why… does it feel like this?"
He opened his eyes. Hours had passed. When he tried to stand, the pain that had tormented him was now a dull ache. Still difficult, but manageable.
With a staggering step, Amon rose and began exploring the hut.
The more he looked… the more bizarre it seemed.
"Why does Brama call this a 'hut'?" he wondered. "These walls… they're not ordinary wood. They're more like stone sealed with spiritual flow. But the aura is so calm…"
Inside the room was only an old wooden writing desk and bare walls. But from the layout and structure, Amon knew—this was no ordinary building. He had seen rooms like this… in his sect's restricted archives. Yet he couldn't recall from where.
He stepped outside the hut. Surveying the surroundings.
The forest beyond was still silent. Too silent. No animals passing. No footsteps. No scent of threat.
Calm… too calm.
Amon felt uneasy. He turned to re-enter the hut—and froze.
The building he had just exited… had changed. From the outside, it now looked like a small 2x2 meter hut. Completely plain. Very simple. No way it could house the complex structure he had just seen inside.
"Is this… sub-space within sub-space?" he thought. "Or… is this hut actually an anchor point in spatial structure?"
He tried entering and exiting several times. Inside, remained as before. Outside, still tiny.
Amon was a high-level cultivator. He wasn't a novice to spatial techniques. But a structure like this… even his sect didn't possess anything this stable.
"Why do I feel… like I'm forgetting something important?"
Amon felt a part of his memory had been lost—or sealed—upon waking.
Suddenly, footsteps approached.
Brama emerged from the bushes, his leaf bag puffed out.
"Amon, what are you doing?" he asked.
Amon turned, looking deeply at Brama. "I… I feel something strange about this hut. And it's like… part of my memory is locked. Something I should remember about this place… but I'm not sure what."
Brama was silent for a moment. Then nodded. "I felt something similar when I first entered. But… I chose not to disturb it."
Brama misunderstood—he thought Amon was impressed by how the inside of the hut was different. That was true, but what Amon meant went deeper.
Amon noticed Brama's luggage—this time, it looked conspicuous. The leaf bag was full, and clearly not just filled with leaves or food.
"Brama… is that all soul stones?" he asked, pointing at the bag.
Brama lifted it slightly and shook it.
"Yeah. My haul from earlier. After getting swarmed by a pack of mad hounds, I guess I got lucky."
Amon nodded slowly, though his eyes held something unspoken. His mind raced, but his lips remained sealed.
They entered the hut together. Inside, Brama sat and opened part of the bag. Several soul stones rolled gently across the table.
"That's quite a number," Amon remarked softly.
Brama simply nodded. Then, as if unconsciously, he began to recount the battle—how he and Ruda faced the seemingly endless pack, how they outmaneuvered the pack leader, and how their teamwork secured victory.
Amon listened intently. His gaze was sharp, not with suspicion—but with awe.
"Brama… may I ask one thing?"
"Of course. What is it?"
"Your current level… what is it?"
"Twelve," Brama replied casually.
"Twelve…?" Amon repeated softly, as if it took time to register.
He seemed disbelieving at first. But recalling Brama's combat, his composure, even the way he answered questions—his doubt slowly faded.
"Brama… would you consider joining my sect? If you're willing, I could recommend you directly to the Core Disciple council."
Brama only smiled slightly. But his gaze was sharp.
"Are you sure about your sect? Weren't you betrayed by people from it?"
Amon lowered his head. His smile bitter. "I know… but betrayal doesn't define a whole sect. It was only the act of a few… who couldn't accept someone else's success."
Silence lingered. Amon looked at Brama again.
"To be honest… I've never met a cultivator like you. Not just in terms of power, but thinking, strategy, even… how you conceal your presence. You're not a beginner."
Brama stared blankly for a moment. Then spoke softly.
"I'll think about it."
Then, with a lighter tone, he asked in return:
"If I may ask… can you tell me about your sect? And… who are you really? Because I'm sure, you're no ordinary man. Not just a high-level cultivator."
Amon fell silent.
Both eyes stared deeply into Brama, as if trying to read his thoughts.
"All right," he said quietly. "You deserve to know. And I believe… one day, we'll stand on the same side in a battle far greater than anything you've faced before."