The forest was unnervingly quiet.
Most woodlands are a symphony of life—the rhythmic call of birds, the persistent hum of insects, the restless creak of swaying branches. But this grove felt different. It was holding its breath, suffocated by a tension that hung heavy in the damp air.
Arin moved through the treeline without hurry.
His boots made no sound against the soft loam, his presence as light as a drifting shadow. Behind him, the trade road slowly disappeared, swallowed by the thick emerald canopy.
Five hundred meters deeper into the forest, eighteen men crouched among twisted roots and thorn bushes.
Bandits.
Their leader, Kargan, gripped a heavy axe with scarred hands. His crooked nose had been broken more times than he could remember, and his face carried the hardened look of a man who had survived too many brutal fights.
But right now—
He was afraid.
A few minutes earlier, something impossible had happened.
An invisible pressure had descended on the forest like the gaze of a god.
Then it vanished.
"Boss…" one of the bandits whispered nervously. "What the hell was that?"
Kargan growled.
"Shut up."
Even so, he couldn't calm the unease crawling beneath his skin.
"We take the caravan and disappear. Move."
But the moment he finished speaking—
He saw him.
A lone figure walking calmly through the trees.
A traveler.
Dark cloak.
No armor.
No shield.
Just a worn sword hanging loosely at his waist.
Kargan frowned.
"…Just one guy?"
A bandit beside him forced a laugh.
"Maybe he's lost."
Arin stopped about ten paces away.
He glanced around the clearing like someone inspecting scenery.
Then his gaze settled on the men hiding in the bushes.
"You guys are the bandits?"
The question was calm.
Almost polite.
For a moment, silence hung in the clearing.
Then the bandits burst out laughing.
"Hear that? The kid thinks he's a magistrate!"
Another bandit spat into the dirt.
"Bad luck, traveler."
"You walked straight into your own grave."
The Instruction Manual System flickered inside Arin's vision.
[Instruction Manual]
Threat Level: C (Trivial)
Recommended Action:
Non-lethal suppression possible
Arin tilted his head slightly.
"Non-lethal, huh?"
The way he looked at them made the bandits furious.
He wasn't looking at enemies.
He was looking at insects.
"Enough!" Kargan roared.
He lifted his axe.
"Kill him!"
Eighteen men charged.
Boots thundered.
Blades flashed.
A wave of violence rushed toward a single man.
Arin sighed quietly.
Do I really have to fight?
A faint fragment stirred inside his mind.
Sword Saint.
Synchronization: 4%
Barely anything.
Yet still more than enough.
Arin didn't draw his sword.
He didn't raise his guard.
Instead he lifted one hand, fingers poised as if flicking away dust.
"Let's try something new."
The system immediately reacted.
[Technique Observation]
Input:
Basic Sword Intent + Origin Logic
Result:
Technique Creation Initiated
Arin smiled faintly.
Then flicked his fingers.
"Origin Pulse."
The world shuddered.
An invisible ripple expanded outward from his body in a perfect circle.
It wasn't brute force.
It was a frequency.
A vibration that resonated with the nervous system of every living creature nearby.
The charging bandits froze mid-step.
Their weapons slipped from their fingers.
Their eyes rolled back.
Their bodies simply… shut down.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
In less than a second, eighteen bandits collapsed like puppets with cut strings.
The clearing returned to silence.
Arin blinked.
"…Huh."
He looked at his hand.
"That was cleaner than expected."
The system updated.
[New Technique Created]
Name: Origin Pulse
Type: Aura-Based Neurological Shock
Rank: A
Arin scratched his chin.
"An A-rank already?"
"I must be rusty."
A weak groan came from the dirt.
Kargan, the bandit leader, was still barely conscious.
He stared at Arin with wide, terrified eyes.
"What… what are you…?"
Arin crouched beside him.
"A traveler."
"I thought we established that."
"You didn't even touch us…" Kargan whispered.
"Too much effort."
Kargan's eyes rolled back and he collapsed.
Arin stood and stretched.
"Well."
"That solves that."
The system chimed again.
[Fate Deviation Detected]
Original Timeline:
Caravan Guard dies defending caravan
Current Timeline:
Ambush thwarted
Reward:
Fate Points +120
Memory Recovery +1%
A spark flashed through Arin's mind.
More fragments returned.
Footwork.
Breathing techniques.
The geometry of a perfect sword strike.
Arin exhaled slowly.
"My brain is waking up."
"I just hope it wakes up quietly."
Ten minutes later, Arin walked out of the forest.
Behind him, eighteen bandits were tied together neatly with vines.
On the road, Roderick Hale stared at him like he had just seen a ghost.
"You… you were gone for sixty seconds."
"They're sleeping," Arin replied casually.
Roderick slowly walked toward the treeline.
Then he saw them.
Eighteen notorious bandits.
Defeated.
Without a single wound.
His jaw dropped.
"You did this alone?"
Arin scratched the back of his head.
"The forest helped."
The system flickered again.
[Instruction Manual]
Individual Evaluation:
Roderick Hale
Hidden Trait:
Extreme Loyalty
Arin glanced at him thoughtfully.
Then shrugged.
"Well."
"You're safe now."
Roderick looked at him with awe.
"Who are you really?"
Arin turned and started walking down the road.
His cloak fluttered behind him.
"Just a wanderer."
But deep within the system's hidden core, alarms were activating.
[Hidden Protocol]
Subject Activity: Increasing
Monitoring Priority: MAXIMUM
Warning:
Subject creating World-Class Techniques
at 4% Synchronization
Far beyond the hills—
The gears of fate had already begun turning in a completely new direction.