Sato stared at the warning in disbelief, his breath catching in his throat.
Parasite? How? he thought, panic rising like bile. How could a parasite have gotten inside me?
"Damn it… why does everything in this place want to kill me?" he growled, anger mixing with helpless frustration. He clenched his hand into a fist. "I don't have any antidote. What the hell do I do now?"
He muttered curses under his breath, voice raw and trembling.
"Damn you all…"
He forced himself to stand, legs still shaky from the fight and blood loss. The tunnel stretched ahead—dark, endless, silent except for the faint drip of water somewhere far off.
If the parasite entered while he was unconscious… then whatever put it inside him must be close. Somewhere nearby. In this tunnel. In this place.
He had to find it.
And kill it.
But how?
He had no idea.
Sato gripped the Asam Sword tighter with his good hand and started walking deeper into the darkness, every step heavy with dread and determination.
The glowing stones in the walls flickered weakly, casting long, shifting shadows.
He was alone... maybe.
Poisoned.
And now… infected.
But he wasn't stopping.
Not yet.
He whispered to himself, voice barely audible:
"I'm getting out of here. No matter what."
Sato had no choice but to keep moving forward through the tunnel. The passage gradually widened, and he noticed it immediately. The space was becoming larger, more open. In a way, it was better for him—more room to maneuver, more space to dodge. But at the same time, it was worse. In a wide area like this, the creatures could surround him more easily.
"Damn it… it's like everything here wants me dead," he muttered under his breath, voice low and bitter.
He glanced at the system window again. The parasite maturity had already reached 48%.
A cold shiver ran down his spine.
Then he felt it.
A presence.
Something hunting him.
Sato stopped dead. He gripped the Asam Sword with both hands—tight, knuckles white. His remaining eye scanned the darkness.
A low growl echoed from above.
Then, from thin air, a gray wolf materialized—ghostly, translucent, its body made of swirling mist and shadow. It lunged straight at him.
Sato swung instinctively.
The blade passed right through the wolf.
No blood. No resistance. The sword cut through it like fog.
The creature vanished into nothing.
"What the hell…?" Sato whispered, confusion and fear twisting in his gut.
Before he could process it, another wolf appeared—this one from the side.
It slashed.
Claws raked across his stomach.
Pain exploded. Blood welled up.
Sato staggered back, clutching the wound.
He swung again—nothing. The blade passed harmlessly through the misty body.
The wolf dissolved into smoke.
Sato stared at his bloody hand.
"How…?" he breathed, panic rising.
Another wolf appeared.
Another slash.
This time across his arm.
More blood.
More pain.
They came one after another—relentless, unpredictable. Each attack landed. Each time he swung, the sword found only air.
The wolves attacked in sequence—never together, always one at a time, then vanishing like mist.
Sato's breathing grew ragged. His wounds multiplied. Blood soaked his cloak. The parasite inside him pulsed, feeding on his weakening state.
He backed against the wall, sword shaking in his grip.
*They're not real… but the pain is.*
*How do I fight something I can't hit?*
The wolves circled, eyes glowing purple.
Waiting.
He was running out of time.
No matter what, I have to find a way to kill them, Sato thought to himself, determination hardening in his chest despite the growing exhaustion.
He tried to activate the skill again. Single Slash.
But this time, no single clear thread appeared to guide him. Instead, the air was filled with a chaotic tangle of blue lines—overlapping, twisting, like a knotted ball of thread.
"What the hell is this now?" he muttered, frustration rising.
The wolves attacked.
Sato knew physical strikes were useless against their misty bodies. So he focused only on evasion—dodging, weaving, rolling. He moved constantly, trying to keep distance, trying to stay alive.
But it wasn't working as he hoped.
Every dodge, every twist, drained him faster. His lungs burned. His legs felt heavier with each step. The poison from earlier bites still lingered, sapping his strength. The wolves were wearing him down—methodical, patient, relentless.
"Damn it… this isn't working. I'm just exhausting myself faster," he gasped between breaths. "These bastards are tiring me out on purpose."
He tried Single Slash again—desperate.
The threads appeared once more. Still chaotic. Still tangled. But this time… they looked fainter. Weaker. Like they were losing focus.
"Why do they look weaker now?" he whispered to himself. "Focus. Focus…"
If I can't follow a single thread… maybe I can ignore them all and force them together.
He kept moving—dodging claws, evading lunges—while staring at the blue lines.
They were everywhere. Overlapping. Confusing.
But if he couldn't follow one… maybe he could control them.
He began spinning the sword slowly, deliberately—circling it in front of him like a shield. The threads reacted. They started to twist around the blade, drawn in, wrapping tighter.
Sato felt it—a strange energy building. A pulse. A connection.
The threads converged.
The sword glowed brighter—blue light running along the edge like liquid fire.
Then the system window flashed.
[Congratulations! You have unlocked Mana Blade (Level 1) (Active Skill).]
Infuse your weapon with mana for enhanced cutting power. Physical attacks now deal bonus damage to ethereal and resistant enemies.
Sato's eye widened.
A slow, tired grin spread across his bloodied face.
"I think… I just found a way to deal with these bastards."
He raised the glowing sword.
The wolves lunged again.
This time, Sato met them head-on.
Mana Blade activated.
The blade cut through mist like solid flesh.
One wolf dissolved in a spray of purple light.
Then another.
And another.
Sato moved—dodging, striking, spinning.
Each swing left trails of blue energy.
The wolves screeched—real pain now.
He kept going.
Until the tunnel was silent again.
Only glowing sword in hand, and the fading echoes of battle.
Sato stood there, breathing hard, sword still humming with mana.
He had done it.
He had found a way.