Hands-On Combat and the Shadow Blade
Crack.
The shadow pierced straight through the neck of the wolf-type beast. Its body staggered belatedly before crashing to the ground, scattering red fur and blood.
Another alert window popped up. As expected from a higher-grade gate—the experience from each one was pretty substantial.
Eugene casually brushed the blood off the back of his hand. It wasn't a fight that left him winded. Quite the opposite. It was too easy.
Ever since entering the gate, packs of Red Fangs had been charging at him relentlessly. Each one had sharp power and blistering speed—opponents that ordinary E-rank or D-rank Awakeners would have to risk their lives against multiple times. But not for him now.
He'd been a bit wary at first upon hearing it was a B-rank gate, but that caution had been unnecessary.
"Slow."
Was it thanks to his overall stats rising? It wasn't just raw strength. His dynamic vision had noticeably improved too.
As if on cue, the shadow spread across the ground. The black shadow slithered like liquid toward a Red Fang's feet, burrowing underneath. In the next instant, its legs lifted into the air.
Crunch!
The blood-red wolf bit into the beast's exposed neck in one swift motion as it lost balance. Blood erupted in a spray.
Eugene gazed down at the scene for a moment.
This had been his pattern so far: bind with shadows, crush with Gravity (S), and let the blood wolf finish when an opening appeared. Safe. Efficient. And above all, no need to throw his body into pointless risks.
Yet something nagged at a corner of his mind.
Is this really okay?
Eugene's gaze slowly drifted to his own hand. So far, summons and skills had been enough. They were strong, and the results spoke for themselves.
But there was no guarantee it'd stay that way forever. A foe immune to Gravity could appear. Shadows might fail to bind. Summons might not hold out long enough.
When an enemy closed in right before his eyes, could he still end it as leisurely as now, just by reaching out?
Probably not.
Especially as he climbed to higher-grade gates, it'd only get tougher.
Eugene nudged a fallen Red Fang corpse with his toe. And like last time, there was no telling when another Ragiel might pop up.
Maybe I should fight directly.
With his stats boosted, he could overpower most close-quarters scraps with brute force. But that was just numerical domination—not properly honed technique.
Be it a sword, shortsword, or spear. Shouldn't he have at least one weapon he was familiar with?
Eugene clicked his tongue softly.
Just because my body's improved doesn't mean my fighting skills level up automatically.
What mattered was real combat experience, built by moving his own body.
At that moment.
Grrrrr.
The blood wolf growled.
Eugene looked up. More Red Fangs emerged from beyond the trees, baring their fangs as if stimulated by the blood scent, circling to surround him.
He stared at them for a beat, then lowered his hand.
Alright. Let's try it.
This time, no shadows. No Gravity either.
Eugene simply stepped forward.
No point standing around overthinking. Sometimes, you just had to move and find out. Faster than rolling it around in his head.
He locked eyes with the lead Red Fang. It snarled and kicked off the ground. Red fur shook, yellow fangs flashed right in his face.
This time, he willed the shadow to stay put. No dodging.
Eugene twisted his body, deflecting the beast's trajectory just enough, then grabbed its passing scruff barehanded.
Crunch.
Fingers dug into flesh and bone. Far stronger than he'd imagined. The beast couldn't even resist.
"...Not bad?"
He hoisted its body into the air and slammed it down with full force.
Boom!
The ground cratered. Before its scream could finish, Eugene's foot crushed its skull.
Splat!
The skull burst.
The other charging beasts flinched for a split second. The blood wolf seized the gap, lunging from the side to rip open one's belly. Eugene spun, uppercutting the last one's jaw with his fist.
Crack.
The beast's neck snapped, tumbling limply across the ground.
A totally different sensation lingered in his fingertips now. Not like killing through a summon. This was direct impact, direct power shattering flesh.
Not bad. No—way better than expected.
Weird. Had he ever beaten someone down with his bare hands like this...?
Yeah, I should definitely train this.
Eugene looked down at the fallen Red Fangs, then lifted his gaze.
"Good..."
He took a slow step forward.
Next up: weapons.
No need to hunt for a sword separately. He already had one ready.
The shadow at his feet rippled quietly. Black shadow climbed his arm like living liquid, wrapping his wrist before stretching out, taking form.
First, a blade. Then length and thickness shifted. Straight like a jian, then curving into a lively longsword. Broadening into a greatsword, then shrinking to a black shortsword perfect for one hand.
Eugene gripped the hilt. Not heavy. Not light. The perfect familiar weight. Balanced exactly as he wanted.
"This'll do."
At that moment.
Grrrrr.
The blood wolf growled again.
More Red Fangs appeared from the trees, drawn by the blood, slowly encircling with fangs bared.
Eugene gave the black blade a light swing.
Swish.
The air parted far smoother than expected.
Shadow weapon. Sword in form, shadow in essence. Harden it, and it was steel-tough. Release, and it dissolved like mist. No worry of breaking or dropping.
The pack kicked off together. Red fur shook, yellow fangs gleamed.
No shadow extension this time. No Gravity.
Eugene stepped straight forward.
As the lead Red Fang's jaws lunged for his face, his body slid sideways.
And.
The black blade grazed its neck. It seemed to halt at first. A beat later, a red line split its throat longways.
Splurt!
Blood gushed as the head rolled aside.
Cuts even better?
Still just wild swings. Yet this power. His base specs carried the strikes.
The second beast leaped from the flank. Eugene twisted his wrist, extending the blade. Short sword stretched to spear length in an instant, like a pliable staff.
Stab!
The black spear tip pierced its mouth, bursting out the back of its skull.
He withdrew, and it shrank back to shortsword.
The third didn't hesitate. Despite watching two kin die in seconds, it charged.
Eugene timed its leap, dragging the blade from below upward.
Slash!
Diagonal from chest to jaw. The Red Fang sprayed blood midair as it fell.
One clean stroke. Literally bisected.
Eugene stared blankly at the corpse he'd sliced.
Not a single ray of light seeped into the underground sanctuary. In the vast chamber of black stone—ceiling, walls, floor—a single round table sat at the center.
Atop it, a crimson-eyed emblem pulsed like a living heart, throbbing with blood.
Six figures in black robes sat quietly around it.
Precisely—it should have been seven.
One empty seat. Only the crimson emblem carved into its backrest hinted at its former occupant.
At that moment, the masked man at the table's head spoke.
"Ragiel is gone."
His rasping voice crushed the air in the hall.
A mocking snicker leaked from one side.
"Heh... Gone? That clown actually died? After scraping up all those human souls like an apostle should... tsch."
The old man to the left drummed dry fingers on the table.
"The problem isn't just that he died. Ragiel would've crawled back even from death. But not this time."
The masked man continued.
"His soul was obliterated. Without a trace."
"You mean someone erased one blessed by Him? Hah... Who the hell...?"
The old man trailed off in shock.
Then, the veiled woman spoke.
"Something similar happened recently. Barcas. He summoned the king from another realm, but got killed before he could grow."
"Ah... right. That one too."
The old man twisted his lips into a grin.
"Ha. Things keep going wrong for us lately."
The veiled woman crossed her legs slowly.
"Wrong? That's an understatement. Barcas, now Ragiel. Heh... At this rate, I'm doubting if we even qualify to meet the Master."
All eyes at the table snapped to her.
"Shut your mouth."
The giant man's voice made the entire space hum. The black stone floor trembled as if cracking. The crimson eye emblem throbbed, and even the hidden black candles in the ceiling shadows flickered.
"If something's in the way, kill it. Done."
The veiled woman chuckled.
"Heh... Easier said. Neither Barcas nor Ragiel were pushovers."
The giant's glare darkened viciously. His exposed forearm twitched under the robe, compressing the air again. He looked ready to rise and tear her apart.
Then.
Tap.
The masked man tapped the table once with a finger. That single sound erased the twisting pressure like a lie.
"Enough."
His rasping voice wasn't loud. But it froze the air over the table solid.
The giant clenched his teeth, unable to move further.
"No time to bite each other. What matters is an obstacle has appeared."
The masked man spoke slowly.
"Hm... Any suspects?"
The old man lifted a corner of his mouth.
"Not yet."
The masked man replied.
"But one thing's clear. It's no coincidence. Barcas, Ragiel—both were words for Him. And precisely those words were severed."
The veiled woman crossed her legs quietly.
"So it's hunting us by scent. Means it knows our business."
"Yes."
The masked man nodded.
"And right before Ragiel vanished, there's a final trace."
All eyes locked on him.
"Where?"
The old man asked.
Silence fell briefly.
Then the masked man spoke.
"Republic of Korea. The place called Incheon. Where Ragiel last appeared."
As the words landed, the crimson eye emblem on the table pulsed hugely, like a heartbeat.