The truth still lingered in his mind like a wound that refused to close.
It burned beneath his calm expression… fueling something darker.
After uncovering the corruption hidden within the Light Order, Danir chose not to act—not yet.
Instead, he moved forward.
Because he knew now—Without power, even truth would be crushed.
Danir and Rigor rode westward, leaving the towering walls of Valoria behind them.
The cold stone roads slowly gave way to wild terrain, where civilization faded and nature began to take over.
The journey toward Hunterwood Forest had begun.
A place spoken of in whispers among adventurers—A training ground for the inexperienced… And a graveyard for the careless.
Danir pulled out his enchanted map, the parchment unfolding mid-air with glowing markings guiding his path.
He adjusted their course.
Precise.
Focused.
And yet—His mind wandered back.
To the cathedral.
To the truth.
"To face them now… would be suicide," he muttered, his jaw tightening.
His grip on the reins hardened as a surge of anger pulsed through him.
"I'll end them…" he whispered under his breath, voice low and dangerous.
"But not like this."
His eyes darkened.
"Not until I'm strong enough."
A cold wind swept past them.
"I promise…" he continued, his voice steady now—controlled.
"Their days will come soon!"
The environment began to change.
Hunterwood revealed itself slowly, like a living entity welcoming—or warning—those who entered.
It was a forest divided by nature itself.
To the north— Tall pine trees stretched endlessly, their needle-like leaves whispering with the wind. The ground was layered with frost-touched ferns, and the air carried a sharp, biting chill. It was quiet… almost too quiet.
To the south— Life exploded into chaos.
A dense tropical rainforest, thick with towering trees whose massive roots twisted like serpents across the earth. Vines—woody lianas—hung from branch to branch, while vibrant epiphytes clung to trunks, blooming in strange and beautiful forms.
Orchids.
Bromeliads.
Ferns layered upon ferns.
Massive kapok trees rose like pillars, their branches forming a ceiling that filtered the sunlight into shifting green gold. Strangler figs coiled around other trees, slowly consuming them, while palms and rubber trees thrived in the humid, fertile ground.
Everything grew.
Fast.
Wild.
Uncontrolled.
Danir exhaled slowly as he took it all in.
"So this is Hunterwood?" he muttered.
"It's alive."
And where there was life— There was prey—
Deer.
Boars.
Wild rabbits.
Flocks of birds echoing through the canopy.
But more importantly—
Where prey gathered…
Predators followed.
Danir's lips curled slightly.
For the first time since leaving Valoria—He felt something different.
Not anger.
Not disgust.
But anticipation.
"This is perfect."
He lowered his map, eyes sharpening as he scanned the forest ahead.
No more limits.
No more restrictions.
No more being held back by guild rules or safe quests.
This time—it was just him.
Alone.
Against the wild.
Danir gently tapped Rigor's side.
"Let's go," he said.
And together—They stepped deeper into Hunterwood Forest, where every shadow could hide an enemy… and every battle could make him stronger.
At first— Hunterwood did not welcome him with danger.
It welcomed him with silence.
Danir moved cautiously through the forest, his senses sharp, his grip steady on his weapons.
The thick vegetation rustled softly with every passing breeze, and the distant cries of wildlife echoed between the towering trees.
Then—Movement.
A deer.
Then another.
A group of Landbirds—tall, ostrich-like creatures sprinting across the underbrush.
Wild rabbits darting between roots.
Boars digging through the soil.
Common-beasts.
Novice-level.
Danir exhaled.
"…Still the same."
No thrill.
No challenge.
But—He didn't hesitate.
In a blur of motion, he moved.
Steel flashed.
Magic followed.
"Ice Shards Daggers."
The air snapped cold as shards of ice materialized and pierced through his targets with precision.
A charging boar froze mid-stride before collapsing lifelessly. A Landbird tried to flee—only to be struck down before it could even scream.
Clean.
Efficient.
Merciless.
He hunted not for glory—But for survival.
Meat.
Supplies.
Preparation.
He gathered everything he could carry.
More than enough.
Hours passed.
Bodies piled.
The forest floor bore witness to his quiet slaughter.
And yet— When he checked his grimoire…
"…Only one level?"
His brows furrowed slightly.
A hint of irritation crept in.
"All this… for just one?"
He clicked his tongue.
"Tch."
Of course.
They were too weak.
Too insignificant.
These creatures were nothing more than stepping stones—barely enough to push him forward.
Danir stood still for a moment, the faint scent of blood mixing with the damp forest air.
Then— He looked deeper into the forest.
Toward the darker parts.
Where the light barely reached.
Where stronger creatures would lurk.
His expression hardened.
"This isn't enough."
He mounted Rigor once more, his voice calm—but filled with quiet intensity.
"Let's go deeper."
The forest grew quieter.
Too quiet.
After a while, Danir slowed Rigor down, his eyes narrowing as his instincts began to scream.
Something was wrong.
Then—Scratch… scratch!…
Faint, deliberate sounds echoed from the shadows.
Not random.
Not careless.
Controlled.
Danir's gaze shifted from tree to tree. Massive kapok trunks loomed around them, their thick roots twisting across the ground like coiled serpents.
The shadows between them moved.
Circling.
Hunting.
"…An ambush."
His grip tightened.
These weren't ordinary beasts.
They were organized.
Like predators that had learned how to think.
Then— His Amulet of Power flared.
A sharp green glow pierced through the dim forest.
Intermediate-level threat.
"Rigor—!"
Too late.
A blur lunged from the darkness.
THUD!
A massive creature slammed into them.
Rigor let out a pained cry as sharp fangs sank into his leg. The impact threw Danir off violently—but he twisted mid-air, landing hard yet steady on his feet.
"Rigor!"
The horse collapsed, trembling, agony coursing through his body.
Then they revealed themselves.
One by one.
From the shadows.
Eight figures.
Low.
Muscular.
Eyes glowing with feral hunger.
Rogue Wolves.
"…Damn it."
Danir's breathing slowed—not in fear, but in focus.
He remembered.
Yuri's diary.
"These aren't normal wolves… mutated common-beasts…"
His eyes scanned them rapidly.
"Size almost like horses… sharp claws… fast… coordinated…"
Then he noticed one.
Larger.
Scarred.
Watching.
"…The leader."
The pack moved.
Like a unit.
They attacked all at once.
Danir stepped back—
Dodged—
Twisted—
Claws sliced through the air where his neck had been a second ago.
Fast.
Too fast.
"Ice Shards Daggers!"
Ice formed instantly—
But— MISS!
The wolves scattered like shadows.
Unpredictable.
Disciplined.
"They're too quick…!"
His jaw clenched.
No choice.
He drew his katana.
Steel gleamed faintly under the filtered light.
"…Then I'll wait."
He stilled himself.
Lowered his stance.
Eyes locked.
"I can't chase them…"
His breathing slowed.
"I let them come to me."
Meanwhile— Rigor struggled to stand.
Three wolves circled him, fangs bared, waiting for the perfect moment to tear him apart.
Despite the pain—
Rigor kicked.
Snarled.
Refused to fall!
"Damn it…!" Danir's voice dropped.
"I have to end this fast."
He stepped forward...
Provoking.
Inviting death!
"Come!"
They took it.
A wolf lunged—
Danir moved.
SLASH!
Blood sprayed across the forest floor.
One down.
Another from the side—
He twisted—
CUT!
Second.
They came faster now.
More aggressive.
More desperate.
Danir became a blur of steel and instinct.
Evade.
Counter.
Kill.
Third.
Fourth.
Bodies dropped.
Blood soaked into the earth.
Only one remained before him.
The leader.
Silence fell.
Heavy.
Tense.
The wolf stepped forward.
Larger.
Smarter.
Its eyes burned—not just with hunger… But also hatred.
Danir exhaled slowly.
"…Now it's just you and me."
He charged.
Steel flashed— But the wolf vanished.
"—!"
Too late.
It leaped above him—
Landed behind—
SLASH!
Claws tore into his shoulder.
"Ghk—!"
Pain exploded.
Warm blood spilled down his arm.
But he didn't stop.
Didn't hesitate.
Didn't fear.
His eyes sharpened.
His breathing steadied.
His body moved on instinct alone.
"Got you."
The wolf lunged again—
And this time—
Danir stepped into it.
SHRRRK!
His blade tore from its throat—
Down—
Through its body—
Blood erupted.
Hot.
Violent.
Unforgiving.
The wolf's body collapsed mid-motion.
Dead before it hit the ground.
Silence.
The remaining wolves around Rigor froze.
Then—They ran. Retreated as they saw their leader fall.
Vanishing into the forest.
Danir stood there.
Breathing.
Bleeding.
Alive.
"…Tch."
He wiped the blood from his face.
"Finally…"
He checked his grimoire.
A faint glow.
"…Two levels."
Not enough. But— Better.
He sheathed his blade and immediately rushed to Rigor.
"Hey… hey… I'm here."
The horse trembled, still in pain.
Danir placed his hand gently on the wound.
"Nature's Touch."
A soft green light bloomed.
Warm.
Gentle.
Alive.
The wound slowly closed.
The bleeding stopped.
Rigor let out a quiet breath—relief washing over him.
Then he healed himself.
Danir smiled faintly.
"…Good."
For a moment— The battlefield faded.
No wolves.
No blood.
No danger.
Just a boy… And the one companion who stayed with him.
Then his eyes slowly lifted.
Back to the forest.
"…Stronger."
He whispered it like a vow.
Because now— Hunterwood had finally started fighting back.
The battle ended— But the hunt did not.
After tending to Rigor, Danir didn't immediately move on.
Instead, he crouched low, scanning the forest floor with sharp, observant eyes.
The adrenaline was gone.
What remained— Was discipline.
"…Yuri mentioned this."
His gaze locked onto a cluster of low-growing plants hidden beneath thick roots.
Dark green leaves.
Faint violet veins.
Slightly glowing under the shade.
Danir reached down carefully.
"Nightshade sprout… sells well in black markets."
He plucked it cleanly, avoiding damage, and stored it inside his bag.
Step by step— He continued...
Between battles, between danger— He searched.
Not blindly.
But with purpose.
Silverleaf herbs growing near damp soil.
Bitterroot vines coiling around fallen trunks.
Small clusters of frost-fern tucked beneath shaded stones.
Each one—
Recognized.
Remembered.
Collected.
Yuri's diary wasn't just a guide for combat.
It was survival.
Profit.
Efficiency.
"Every trip shouldn't just cost me energy…" Danir muttered.
"It should earn something back."
His bag slowly grew heavier.
Not just with meat— But with opportunity.
Valoria's black market came to mind.
A place hidden beneath holiness.
A place where truth was buried— And value was twisted.
Danir's eyes darkened slightly.
"…Might as well take advantage of it."
He stood up, brushing dirt from his hands before mounting Rigor once more.
Now— He wasn't just hunting monsters.
He was learning the system.
Exploiting it.
Surviving it.
Because in this world— Strength alone wasn't enough.
You needed resources.
You needed knowledge.
You needed strategy.
And Danir— Was just starting to understand all of it...