Taking a steady breath, he settled into the basic absorption stance. Legs grounded. Back straight. Hands positioned for controlled intake. The Federation's technique wasn't designed for speed—it prioritized safety, efficiency, ensuring hunters didn't cripple themselves in pursuit of power.
He reached for the first core, fingers wrapping around its smooth surface. Closing his eyes, he activated the method.
The energy stirred instantly, a faint warmth spreading into his palm before curling up his arm, threading through his veins like embers beneath the skin. It wasn't overwhelming—just a steady, controlled infusion, his body drinking in the power as he guided it deeper. His muscles tensed, a slight pressure settling over his limbs as the core's essence integrated into his system.
One down.
The now-dull crystal dropped from his fingers, lifeless, its energy fully drawn. He reached for the next, repeating the process, feeling the slow buildup—his senses sharpening, his body adjusting with every pulse absorbed.
By the third core, his breathing had deepened, his muscles growing heavier. Absorption wasn't just about taking in power—it was about endurance, about balancing intake with what his body could handle.
The fourth core sent a ripple of heat through his chest, settling in his bones like a quiet hum.
By the time he reached the last one, the strain was unmistakable—fatigue creeping in, his limbs sluggish, his mind sharpening even as his body protested. But he pushed through, drawing the final remnants into himself, feeling the last pulse of energy settle in his core.
Five down.
James exhaled, rolling his shoulders as he let the sensations even out. He wasn't stronger yet—not truly—but he had stepped forward. His level had risen.
James exhaled, rolling his shoulders as the lingering energy from the monster cores settled into his body. He could feel it—subtle but undeniable. His level had risen.
Instinctively, he raised his hand and called upon his status window, watching as translucent text materialized before him.
Status Window
Name: James Smith
Class: Arcane Ranger (Hybrid – Archer & Rune Master)
Level: 5
Experience: 0/5000
Stats:
- Strength: 12 → 18
- Agility: 14 → 22
- Endurance: 11 → 17
- ArcanePower: 10 → 18
- Perception: 15 → 23
- Dexterity: 13 → 20
Abilities:
- ArcaneInfusion – BasicTier – Temporarily reinforces arrows with arcane energy, increasing penetration and elemental impact.
- Steady Shot – Focuses energy to enhance accuracy, reducing environmental interference on projectiles.
- Silent Step – Muffles movement, assisting in stealth and positioning during ambushes.
- RunicImprint(Locked) – Allows basic rune application onto arrows, enhancing tracking, piercing, or impact force.(Requires formal rune mastery training.)
- Hunter'sPrecision – Passively increases projectile trajectory calculation, making long-distance shots more reliable.
Hidden Trait (Unknown)
- Elemental Convergence (??? - Latent Ability) – Residual energy from absorbed cores has begun subtly interacting with James's arcane power. Sparks of unintentional elemental influence appear in his attacks—flickers of heat, cold, or static energy without conscious control.
StatusEffects:
- EnergyResidue: Body adjusting to absorbed monster core energy. Mild fatigue present.
- GrowthPotentialUnlocked: Level-up process complete. Foundation set for rune mastery development.
- InstabilityDetected: Unusual energy fluctuations recorded during absorption. (Further investigation required.)
His eyes skimmed over the familiar details—the increase in stats, the progression of his abilities—but then, something caught his attention.
Unknown Trait detected.
His brows furrowed, unease flickering through him. It wasn't supposed to be there. The Federation's system was structured, predictable—leveling up should have been straightforward. Yet here it was, something unclassified, something lingering beneath the surface of his abilities.
For a moment, he considered dwelling on it, dissecting the meaning—but what good would that do now? He was too tired, the night was long, and whatever anomaly had appeared, he would deal with it later.
With a quiet sigh, he dismissed the window. Westmere awaited, and this mystery—whatever it was—would have to wait.
Fatigue weighed on him, settling deep into his muscles as the last remnants of absorbed energy faded into his body. His limbs felt heavy, his mind dull with exhaustion—not dangerous, but enough to remind him that even controlled absorption had its limits.
With slow movements, he gathered the spent cores, their dull, lifeless shells now devoid of energy, and set them aside. His fingers lingered briefly over the bag before he exhaled, pushing himself to his feet.
The old orphanage felt quieter now, the night stretching on in silence.
James made his way to his room, falling into bed without ceremony. The softness of the mattress—worn but familiar—was a relief he hadn't known he needed. The tension in his body melted as sleep crept in, his thoughts growing distant, unfocused.
Whatever anomaly had appeared in his status window, whatever awaited him in Westmere —those things could wait.
Tonight, the only thing that mattered was rest.