Chapter 160
Standing on the tenth floor of the Rune Forge Merchant Guild's main building, inside the newly constructed training chamber, Nille took a slow breath.
The dense mana around him shifted subtly as he steadied his focus.
Then he deactivated his Enclave.
Hyde remained on standby within the Symbiote Thread, quiet but alert.
Nille raised his hand.
A circular distortion formed in front of him, space bending inward as layers of mana folded over each other. A gate slowly opened, unstable in appearance compared to official Sector Gates, yet firmly held together by precise control and structure.
Its destination was not the swamp itself.
That would have been reckless.
Instead, Nille set the anchor point roughly twenty-five miles north of the Swamp Castle, near the middle forest belt leading toward the lower Draconian Mountain Range.
A familiar route.
A dangerous one.
Without hesitation, he stepped through.
The world shifted instantly.
The warm, dense mana of Rune Forge vanished, replaced by cool mountain air and the quiet weight of older land.
The forest here was thicker, more ancient. Trees rose high with massive trunks, their roots gripping damp earth covered in moss. Mist drifted between them, blurring the distance and muting sound.
Nille stopped for a moment.
The memory came back immediately.
This was close to where the five of them had nearly died.
The battlefield still bore its scars, shattered trees, deep gouges in the ground, burned stone, and impact craters where trolls had been thrown or struck down. Nature was slowly healing the damage, but it had not erased the truth of what happened here.
Nille exhaled quietly and scanned the area.
Nyx activated at once.
"Scanning."
Invisible sensory threads spread outward through the forest, collecting information—mana traces, movement patterns, heat signatures, and lingering disturbances in the terrain.
At the same time, Hyde began reinforcing Nille's body through the Symbiote Thread. His clothing shifted subtly, hardening into layered protective material. Armor-like reinforcement formed beneath the surface, strengthening joints, chest, and vital points while keeping mobility intact. Small weapon nodes settled into position along his arms and back, ready for immediate deployment.
Within moments, his appearance had changed from simple training attire to combat readiness.
"No immediate threats within one kilometer," Nyx reported. "However, multiple large footprints detected. Recent activity confirmed."
Nille knelt beside one of the impressions.
Troll tracks.
Fresh.
Only a few hours old.
A faint, controlled focus entered his eyes.
Nyx continued.
"Target group no longer occupies original battlefield zone. Likely relocation due to loss of group member disrupting patrol formation."
Nille already knew what that meant.
The troll that had tried to follow them through the gate had been cut in half when the portal closed, its upper body falling into Rune Forge while the rest remained behind.
A fatal mistake for the creature.
Since then, the remaining trolls had reorganized and moved.
Nyx extended its search further.
After a brief silence, the data locked in.
"Target located."
An image formed in Nille's mind.
Six miles northeast.
A tall rocky hill, rising nearly four hundred feet above the surrounding terrain. Dense pine forest covered its slopes, broken by jagged stone outcrops. Near its summit was a wide cave entrance, roughly twenty feet across, overlooking a large valley.
The valley below was rich, streams, prey animals, and mana-infused vegetation. It had once been the territory of Lightning Dire Wolves.
Now it belonged to the trolls.
The pack had been displaced or killed, and the trolls had taken control of the area, turning it into a crude but functional stronghold. Logs and stones formed rough defenses outside the cave. Fire pits burned nearby. The scent of raw meat and blood lingered faintly in the air through Nyx's readings.
And among them was the spellcasting troll.
The leader.
The one capable of coordinating the group, maintaining structure, and directing their movements.
It was currently overseeing the others as they fed on the remains of several Lightning Dire Wolves, preparing and recovering strength.
Nille slowly stood.
The forest fell quiet again.
Hyde's presence sharpened, readying for combat.
Nyx remained calm, analyzing every angle.
Twelve trolls.
One caster.
Six miles away.
For most awakened individuals, it would have been a reason to retreat, regroup, or reconsider.
For Nille, it was exactly the kind of situation he had come here to face.
Nille approached the trolls' territory the way a hunter approached an unknown beast—not with hatred, not with revenge, but with purpose.
The previous battle had taught him something important.
The thirteen trolls had nearly killed all five of them not because the trolls were invincible, but because Nille and the others had fought on the trolls' terms.
A direct confrontation.
An open battle.
A contest of strength.
Looking back, Nille realized that had been a mistake.
The trolls possessed overwhelming regeneration, immense physical durability, and the stamina to sustain prolonged engagements. Every second spent trading blows favored them.
This time, he intended to treat the encounter differently.
Like an assessment.
Like a researcher solving a problem.
Like a shaman gathering knowledge.
From a concealed position atop a rocky ridge overlooking the valley, Nille observed the encampment.
Twelve trolls.
One spellcaster.
Multiple variables.
Multiple opportunities.
The first phase of the assessment would focus entirely on long-range combat.
Six subjects.
Six tests.
One question.
How many enhanced strikes were required to overcome troll regeneration?
The first troll wandered away from the camp shortly after dusk.
Likely searching for water.
Nille followed silently through the forest canopy.
When the troll entered an isolated clearing, he acted.
A symbiotic arrow formed from his forearm.
Twenty percent Disintegration Fire was woven into its structure.
Nille released it.
The projectile struck the troll's shoulder.
The impact tore flesh away instantly.
Black fire spread through the wound.
The troll roared.
Its regeneration immediately activated.
Nille watched carefully.
The disintegration effect slowed healing considerably.
But it wasn't enough.
Within thirty seconds the damage stabilized.
Within two minutes the wound had mostly recovered.
Assessment complete.
One hit was insufficient.
The second test occurred twenty minutes later.
A second troll moved away from camp.
This time Nille struck the chest.
Then the abdomen.
Then the throat.
Three separate projectiles.
Three vital zones.
The troll staggered.
Regeneration struggled to contain the accumulating damage.
The disintegration effect continued eating away at tissue faster than normal wounds.
Yet the creature survived.
Barely.
It eventually collapsed from exhaustion.
But not before healing enough to remain alive.
Three strikes.
Still insufficient.
The third troll received five attacks.
One eye.
Neck.
Heart.
Lung.
Spine.
The results were significantly better.
The troll's healing visibly slowed.
Movement deteriorated.
Blood loss increased.
The creature eventually collapsed permanently.
Nille waited.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Fifteen.
No recovery.
No movement.
The troll remained dead.
Five accurately placed strikes appeared sufficient for a confirmed kill.
Still.
Nille wanted certainty.
Tests four through six refined the data.
Four strikes proved unreliable.
Sometimes the troll died.
Sometimes it survived.
Five strikes achieved approximately eighty percent lethality.
Six strikes produced complete termination every single time.
The pattern became clear.
At twenty percent disintegration strength, six properly placed attacks against critical organs overwhelmed regeneration faster than the body could recover.
The answer had finally emerged.
Not through theory.
Not through speculation.
Through observation.
Through testing.
Through evidence.
Nille committed the information to memory.
Six critical strikes.
That was the threshold.
The first phase was complete.
Six trolls remained.
And now came the part he truly wanted to test.
Close-quarters combat.
The seventh troll died before understanding what attacked it.
Nille emerged from the shadows.
The Symbiote Thread exploded outward.
A blade formed along his right arm.
The troll swung first.
A massive fist capable of pulverizing stone.
Nille pivoted.
The strike missed by inches.
His blade flashed.
One leg severed at the knee.
The troll crashed downward.
A second strike removed an arm.
A third pierced the eye.
Disintegration Fire ignited internally.
The troll's regeneration activated.
But without limbs and with critical damage spreading through its skull, recovery became impossible.
Kill confirmed.
The eighth troll proved more difficult.
Larger.
Faster.
More aggressive.
It immediately attempted to grapple him.
Nille allowed the engagement.
Partially.
The moment the creature committed its weight forward, he redirected its momentum.
Professor Caelum's teachings surfaced instinctively.
Strength was not always opposed.
Sometimes it was guided.
The troll stumbled.
Nille struck twelve times in less than three seconds.
Joints.
Neck.
Eyes.
Arteries.
Each strike targeted structural weaknesses.
The battle ended shortly afterward.
The ninth troll forced Nille onto the defensive.
For the first time, he experienced genuine pressure.
The creature wielded a tree trunk like a club.
Each impact shattered rock.
Destroyed trees.
Sent shockwaves through the forest.
Nille's newly evolved martial arts adapted.
His movements became increasingly fluid.
He wasn't stronger than the troll.
He didn't need to be.
He simply needed to avoid being where the attack landed.
Minutes passed.
The troll became frustrated.
Predictable.
Then reckless.
A mistake.
Nille stepped inside its guard.
One palm strike infused with symbiotic force struck beneath the jaw.
A second pierced the throat.
A third entered the skull.
The giant collapsed.
The tenth and eleventh trolls attacked together.
Finally.
A proper test.
Two opponents.
Two attack patterns.
Two separate sources of pressure.
The battle became chaotic.
Trees exploded.
Stone shattered.
The forest floor fractured.
Nille discovered numerous flaws in his close-combat style.
His transitions were still too slow.
His defensive responses occasionally left openings.
His stamina consumption remained excessive.
Several times he narrowly avoided severe injury.
But he adapted.
Every exchange refined his understanding.
Every mistake generated a solution.
By the end of the encounter both trolls lay dead.
And Nille understood his martial arts far better than before.
Only one remained.
The spellcasting troll.
The leader.
The most dangerous member of the group.
The creature was already waiting when Nille returned to the encampment.
Surrounded by the bodies of its fallen kin.
Blue mana crackled around its enormous frame.
Intelligence burned behind its eyes.
It understood exactly what had happened.
And it was furious.
The battle began immediately.
Lightning erupted across the valley.
Entire sections of forest exploded apart.
Nille was forced to evade continuously.
The troll's magic was significantly more dangerous than the others.
Every spell carried enough force to kill lesser awakened individuals instantly.
Yet Nille had gained something valuable throughout the night.
Knowledge.
He understood troll regeneration.
He understood troll combat habits.
He understood their limitations.
Most importantly,
He understood his own.
The fight lasted nearly twenty minutes.
The longest battle of the night.
The most difficult.
The most dangerous.
Again and again the troll forced him backward.
Again and again Nille responded.
Adjusting.
Learning.
Improving.
Until eventually the answer revealed itself.
A flaw.
A moment.
A single opening.
The spellcaster committed too heavily to a lightning barrage.
Nille entered close range.
Hyde reinforced his body.
The Symbiote Thread surged.
A blade emerged.
Then another.
Then dozens.
The final exchange lasted less than a second.
Multiple critical strikes landed simultaneously.
Neck.
Heart.
Brain.
Spine.
Disintegration Fire erupted throughout the troll's body.
Regeneration activated.
Failed.
Activated again.
Failed.
The creature took one final step.
Then collapsed.
Silence returned to the valley.
Nille stood alone among the ruins.
Breathing heavily.
Body exhausted.
Mind racing.
The assessment had succeeded.
Not perfectly.
But successfully.
His long-range attacks required six critical hits for reliable troll termination.
His close-quarters style remained superior.
His new martial arts were effective but incomplete.
Approximately forty percent mastery felt accurate.
Several weaknesses still required correction.
Several strengths required refinement.
Yet the most important discovery wasn't about the trolls.
It was about himself.
The previous battle had been about survival.
This battle had been about understanding.
And understanding, Nille realized, was often worth more than victory itself.
With the battle over, Nille did not immediately leave the valley.
Instead, he began doing what he should have done the first time.
He studied.
Carefully.
Methodically.
Every broken tree, every damaged structure, every trail, every sign of movement became a source of information.
The trolls were dead.
The battle was finished.
But the lesson was not.
Nille moved throughout the valley, examining the remains of the encampment and the surrounding terrain. He observed the defensive positions the trolls had constructed, the hunting routes they used, and the locations where they stored food and resources.
As he worked, he compared everything to the battle that had nearly killed the five of them.
What exactly had gone wrong?
At first glance, the answer seemed obvious.
They had been weaker.
But the more Nille thought about it, the less satisfied he became with that explanation.
Strength alone did not explain everything.
The trolls had certainly been powerful.
Yet after carefully assessing them, Nille realized many of them could have been eliminated far more efficiently if their weaknesses had been understood beforehand.
Their regeneration had appeared overwhelming during the first encounter.
Now he knew it wasn't invincible.
It simply required the correct method.
The correct damage.
The correct targeting.
Different malignants required different solutions.
Some relied on regeneration.
Others on armor.
Others on speed, venom, magic, or numbers.
There was rarely a universal answer.
The more he thought about it, the more he understood why Yamatai Academy emphasized knowledge so heavily.
Knowledge reduced uncertainty.
Knowledge reduced mistakes.
Knowledge kept people alive.
Nille found himself comparing the group's strength during the original encounter.
At the time, he had been approximately Level 25.
Rume had been around Level 35.
Professor Caelum Verdanis Eruien was only listed as Level 20 but Nille he is far stronger
Nhulla Loresong was also Level 7.
Lin Yue was Level 4, approaching Level 5.
Looking at those numbers alone painted a strange picture.
A Level 35.
Two Level 20s.
A Level 7.
A Level 4.
Yet they had nearly died to thirteen trolls.
Why?
Because levels were only one variable.
Numbers meant little if you were overwhelmed.
Even powerful individuals could fall when surrounded.
Even experts could die if they underestimated an enemy's abilities.
Even superior force could become irrelevant if deployed incorrectly.
The trolls had possessed coordination, terrain advantage, regeneration, and superior numbers.
The group had entered the battle without fully understanding what they faced.
Looking back, Nille realized that was perhaps their greatest weakness.
Not power.
Information.
He smiled slightly.
Professor Caelum would probably be pleased to hear that conclusion.
After all, that was the purpose of the Academy.
Not simply learning spells.
Not simply becoming stronger.
But learning how to think.
How to analyze.
How to survive.
Having completed his observations, Nille activated a tracking signal linked to one of Rune Forge's logistics carriers.
A small pulse of mana traveled through the network.
The response came almost immediately.
The golem acknowledged the signal and began moving toward his location.
While waiting, Nille continued exploring the cave system beneath the trolls' stronghold.
What he found surprised him.
Near the rear section of the underground chambers, hidden behind several crude barriers made from logs and stone, sat a reinforced wooden cage.
Inside were eight Lightning Dire Wolf cubs.
Tiny compared to their adult counterparts.
Weak.
Malnourished.
Frightened.
The cubs immediately retreated to the far corner when they noticed him.
Nille stopped moving.
The trolls had apparently intended to eat them eventually.
The cubs were still alive only because they were too small to provide much food.
The sight made him frown.
These creatures were technically malignants.
Dangerous predators once fully grown.
Yet looking at them now, they were little more than starving children.
Their ribs were visible beneath their fur.
Several had untreated wounds.
One could barely stand.
Nille remained silent for several moments before making a decision.
He wasn't rescuing them because they were harmless.
He wasn't doing it because he expected gratitude.
And he certainly wasn't adopting eight Lightning Dire Wolves.
He was simply giving them a chance.
Nothing more.
The logistics carrier arrived shortly afterward.
The heavy golem emerged from the forest carrying supplies within its storage compartments.
Nille retrieved preserved meat, nutrient packs, water containers, and several basic healing medicines.
The cubs remained cautious at first.
But hunger eventually overcame fear.
One approached.
Then another.
Then all eight.
Nille placed the food down and stepped back.
The cubs devoured it immediately.
He then carefully applied healing medicine to the more severe injuries.
A few growled weakly.
Others attempted to bite him.
None had enough strength to make the effort meaningful.
Nille couldn't help but shake his head.
"You're all stubborn."
The nearest cub ignored him completely and continued eating.
For nearly an hour, he remained there while the cubs recovered enough strength to stand properly.
Their condition was still poor.
But significantly better than before.
Eventually, Nille rose to his feet.
The cubs watched him.
No longer terrified.
Still cautious.
But alive.
That was enough.
Nille gave the cave one final glance before turning toward the valley exit.
He had come seeking answers.
And in many ways, he had found them.
Not just about trolls.
Not just about combat.
But about something Professor Caelum often tried to teach his students.
Power mattered.
Experience mattered.
Yet neither could replace understanding.
And today, Nille felt like he understood the world he is now in, a little better than he had yesterday.
Nille remained in the cave longer than he originally intended.
The eight Lightning Dire Wolf cubs were still weak, but at least they were no longer on the verge of starvation.
He watched them carefully while they ate.
One by one, the cubs became more active.
Their movements steadied.
Their eyes regained some life.
The healing potions slowly treated the worst of their injuries, while the food and clean water restored a bit of strength.
It wasn't enough to guarantee survival.
Nille knew that.
The wilderness was unforgiving.
Many young creatures never reached adulthood.
Still, they now had a chance.
And sometimes a chance was all anyone could offer.
Nille glanced toward the valley outside.
The leader of their pack had never received such an opportunity.
From what he had gathered, the alpha had likely been the first to die when the trolls invaded the territory. It had probably fought to protect its pack and failed.
A familiar story.
One repeated countless times across the world.
Nille silently placed additional food inside the cage before stepping back.
The cubs immediately moved toward it.
Satisfied, he waited another hour to ensure they could stand and move on their own.
When he was finally convinced they had a reasonable chance of surviving, he approached the cage.
The cubs became alert.
Some growled softly.
Others simply watched.
Nille knelt down and unlocked the cage.
The metal latch clicked open.
Then he stood and walked away.
No dramatic farewell.
No attempt to tame them.
No expectation of gratitude.
Just an opportunity.
Whether they survived would depend on them.
The same way survival depended on every creature in the wild.
The logistics carrier received a new command shortly afterward.
Nille ordered it to relocate to a different position farther from the valley and remain on standby for future operations.
The golem acknowledged the instruction immediately.
With everything settled, Nille opened a gate and returned to Rune Forge.
The familiar mana-rich atmosphere greeted him once more.
This time, however, there was no urge to train.
No urge to continue pushing himself.
The day's objectives had been completed.
His assessments were finished.
His body was tired.
His mind even more so.
Rume's newly prepared accommodation was surprisingly comfortable.
After entering, Nille sat quietly near the window and allowed himself to rest.
Hours passed.
The room remained peaceful.
Then the door opened.
Lin Yue entered carrying several bags.
She had apparently been informed by one of Rune Forge's staff members that their accommodations had been moved to the tenth floor.
The moment she stepped inside, her gaze settled on Nille.
Nille looked back.
A brief silence followed.
Neither spoke.
Neither needed to.
Lin Yue already knew.
Somehow, she always knew.
Nille had done something risky again.
She didn't know the exact details.
She didn't need to.
The signs were obvious.
The slight fatigue.
The look in his eyes.
The calm satisfaction he always carried after making a decision he probably shouldn't have made.
Lin Yue sighed.
Not surprised.
Not angry.
Just resigned.
"I take it you went somewhere."
Nille scratched the side of his cheek.
"...Maybe."
That answer earned him a look.
The kind of look that immediately confirmed she already knew the truth.
Lin Yue placed her belongings down before sitting across from him.
For a moment, she simply studied him.
Checking for injuries.
Checking for signs of exhaustion.
Making sure he was actually okay.
Only after confirming he was unharmed did she finally speak.
"I'm not going to ask you to stop."
Nille blinked.
That wasn't the response he expected.
Lin Yue folded her hands in her lap.
"Because I know you won't."
There was no accusation in her voice.
Only honesty.
"You've already made up your mind about the kind of person you want to be."
Nille remained silent.
"And if I told you to never take risks again, you wouldn't be yourself anymore."
The room grew quiet.
Lin Yue lowered her gaze briefly.
"So instead..."
She looked back at him.
"Can you at least lessen the risks?"
The words sounded more like a request than a demand.
Because she already knew the answer.
Nille wasn't the type of person who would stop moving forward simply because the road was dangerous.
Just as she wasn't the type of person who would abandon her own goals because someone told her to be careful.
Both of them had ambitions.
Plans.
Paths they wanted to follow.
Neither could completely protect the other from the future.
And strangely enough, she understood that better than most.
After all, if Nille had never taken a risk...
If he had never gathered the courage to open up to her...
If he had chosen the safe option and remained silent...
Then nothing between them would have changed.
They would still be standing where they started.
Strangers pretending not to notice what was growing between them.
Lin Yue smiled faintly.
Seeing him alive was enough for today.
Everything else could wait.
For now, sharing the same room, the same quiet evening, and the certainty that they had both returned safely was more than enough.