Aaditya's grip tightened around the hilt of his sword. The Murkling crouched low, its muscles coiled like springs, its glowing eyes reflecting the faint blue hue of Velmoda's alien sky. It hissed, baring jagged teeth as it inched closer.
Aaditya's heart thundered. He wasn't ready—he knew it. 4.2 Dominez wasn't even half of what this creature likely held. But retreating now would mean defeat before the first blow. He couldn't afford that—not when the world already called him "Lucky Trash."
With a guttural roar, the Murkling pounced.
Aaditya dodged just in time, rolling to the side as the creature's claws scraped the rock where he'd just stood. Dirt kicked up around him. He slashed upward, the edge of his training sword grazing the Murkling's side. It shrieked but didn't slow down.
The beast twisted, backhanding him with a clawed limb. Aaditya's body crashed into a jagged boulder. Pain exploded in his ribs, and something cracked. His vision swam.
He couldn't breathe.
The Murkling snarled and lunged again. Aaditya forced himself up, stumbling on weakened legs. He ducked low, thrusting his sword forward in a desperate strike. The blade pierced under the creature's jaw, deep into its throat.
For a moment, time stopped.
Then the Murkling screeched—a horrible, wet sound—and collapsed, twitching violently before going still.
Aaditya stood frozen, gasping for air, sword still buried in the corpse. Blood—black and steaming—soaked his forearm. His entire body ached, his side felt shattered, and warm liquid trickled from a gash above his eyebrow.
He collapsed to his knees beside the creature, chest heaving.
Then it came.
The cold, mechanical voice of the system echoed in his mind:
[Vidborn-Class Animal Eliminated]
[Name: Murkling]
[Soul Core: Not Received]
[Core Embedded Vital Stone Retrieved – Located Near the Heart]
Aaditya blinked slowly, his hand shaking as he reached for his belt pouch. With trembling fingers, he pulled out the tool he'd been given during training—a small, sharp extraction knife. He made a precise cut near the beast's heart, grimacing as the stench hit him.
There it was.
A dull, amber-colored stone, pulsing faintly. The Core Embedded Vital Stone.
He took it, wiped it with a cloth, and looked at it for a long time.
No Soul Core.
His fingers clenched around the stone.
He'd nearly died. Blood was still dripping from his temple. His ribs felt like splintered wood. And for all that—for all that pain and terror and grit—he hadn't been chosen.
No Soul Core.
He slammed his fist into the dirt, teeth gritted. "Damn it..."
Still, he had the stone. And he knew what they said in training: without consuming these, there was no chance of growth.
He stared at the stone again, then, slowly, placed it in his mouth.
It didn't taste like anything—but the effect was instant.
A pulse ran through his chest. Heat surged down his arms, up into his temples, curling around the base of his spine. For a moment, everything around him glowed faintly, like the world had shifted in clarity.
Then the second notification arrived.
[Progress toward Vidborn-Class: 3%]
That was it.
He dropped back, laying flat against the alien soil, the stone's lingering warmth still pulsing in his chest.
Three percent.
A single step forward in a long, merciless journey.
He closed his eyes, letting the moment settle. Every breath still hurt. But there was something comforting about that pain—it was proof he was still alive.
The whispers of "Lucky Trash" felt so far away now.
He had fought. He had killed. He had survived.
And next time?
He'd be stronger.