The bounty board smelled like sour glue and dried blood. Thick layers of parchment overlapped, nailed heavily into the splintering oak. Some sheets were fresh, the black ink still holding a sharp chemical tang. Others were yellowed, peeling at the edges, forgotten requests for dead men.
Renn stood in front of it. The tavern behind him remained quiet. The moans of the man with the inverted knee had faded into a pathetic, wet whimpering. A couple of rough hands dragged him out the back door. The bartender didn't say a word. The clinking of ale mugs slowly resumed, but the eyes of the room stayed glued to Renn's dark, leather-clad back.
He ignored them. His eyes scanned the papers.
[Wanted: Three runaway demi-human slaves. Dead or alive. Reward: 50 silver pieces. Issued by the Vane Kingdom Border Guard.]
[Contract: Exterminate the Goblin nest in the Lower Howling Caves. Bring the chieftain's left ear. Reward: 2 gold coins.]
[Bounty: The head of Kaelen the Red. Last seen in Deadwood Ravine. Reward: 10 gold coins.]
Pennies. Useless distractions.
Renn needed something substantial. He needed high-tier magical beast blood to test the limits of his Nightfall Demon Wolf core. The synthesis system hungered for raw materials. The faint pulsing in his chest reminded him constantly. He was a predator in a world trying to put a collar on him.
He moved his gloved finger down the board. It stopped on a thick piece of vellum pinned near the bottom corner. The wax seal on it was black, stamped with the image of a crossed pickaxe and sword. The local mining guild.
[Urgent Request: Clear the Deep Iron Mine. Multiple miner disappearances. Strange tremors reported in Sector 4. High probability of Rank 2 subterranean beast mutation. Reward: 50 gold coins and a choice of unrefined ore.]
Rank 2.
A Rank 1 beast like the Shadow Panther possessed rudimentary magic and enhanced physical traits. A Rank 2 beast had a condensed mana core. It could warp the environment around it. Fifty gold coins could buy him a decent horse, better baseline weapons for synthesis, and a map of the continent.
He reached out and tore the parchment from the board.
"You don't want that one, mask."
The voice came from his left. Dry. Scratchy. Like two stones grinding together.
Renn turned his head slightly. A man leaned against the wooden pillar next to the board. He wore tight black leather armor. Two curved daggers hung from his belt. His face was a map of white scars, the most prominent one slicing diagonally across his missing left eye.
"Put it back," the scarred man said. He didn't raise his voice, but the tavern went dead silent again. "The Iron Fangs mercenary group claimed the Deep Iron mine contract yesterday. We just haven't taken the paper down yet."
Renn looked at the parchment in his hand. He looked at the scarred man.
"It was on the board," Renn said. The metallic echo of his Bone-Iron mask made his gravelly voice sound distinctly inhuman.
"And I'm telling you to put it back." The scarred man pushed off the pillar. He took a slow step forward. His right hand rested casually on the hilt of his left dagger. "You broke a drunk idiot's leg. Cute. But the Iron Fangs don't play bar games. We have twenty men in this ravine. Give me the paper, Ash, or whatever you call yourself."
Renn didn't move. He felt the familiar heat rising in his chest. The wolf bloodline didn't understand diplomacy. It only understood dominance and submission.
"Twenty men," Renn repeated flatly.
"Yeah. Twenty." The man smirked, revealing stained, yellow teeth. "So be a good little stray and—"
Renn stepped forward. One stride.
The scarred man's single eye widened. He drew his dagger. It was a fast, practiced motion. A deadly upward thrust aimed directly at the gap between Renn's collar and the iron mask.
Renn didn't dodge. He brought his left hand down. Fast. Faster than humanly possible.
His black claws extended through the tips of his leather gloves. He caught the steel blade of the dagger directly in his palm.
Sparks flared. The sharp edge ground against his scales. It didn't cut the skin.
The scarred man froze. His brain couldn't process the visual information. A man holding a razor-sharp steel blade with his bare hand.
"Twenty men," Renn whispered. He tightened his grip.
*Snap.*
The steel dagger shattered into three pieces. Shards fell to the wooden floorboards.
Before the scarred man could pull his arm back, Renn's right hand shot out. He grabbed the man by the throat. He didn't squeeze. He just lifted.
The scarred man's boots left the ground. He gagged, his hands clawing desperately at Renn's forearm. He kicked his legs.
Renn held him there in the center of the tavern. He looked around the room. Dozens of heavily armed men and women stared back. Nobody moved. Nobody drew a weapon. The sheer, suffocating pressure radiating from Renn's body felt like a physical weight pressing down on their chests. The abyssal remnant he had devoured left a lingering aura of absolute dread.
"Tell the Iron Fangs," Renn said, his voice carrying clearly over the complete silence. "The Deep Iron mine is taken."
He opened his hand.
The scarred man dropped to the floor, gasping for air, clutching his bruised neck. He scrambled backward like a crab, his single eye wide with raw terror. He didn't say a word. He just hit the swinging saloon doors and bolted into the muddy street.
Renn folded the vellum contract and slid it into his coat pocket. He walked out of the Boar & Barrel. Nobody tried to stop him.
The cold rain had stopped, leaving a thick, clinging mist over Deadwood Ravine. The mud squelched beneath his boots.
He needed to prepare.
He walked down the main thoroughfare, keeping an eye on the crude wooden signs hanging above the shops. He passed a brothel, a tannery that smelled like rotting fat, and a stall selling questionable meat skewers.
Near the edge of the town, he found what he was looking for. A dilapidated wooden shack with a faded sign depicting a mortar and pestle. An apothecary.
The door creaked violently as he pushed it open.
The inside was cramped. Floor-to-ceiling shelves held glass jars filled with murky liquids, dried roots, and preserved animal organs. The air smelled of sulfur and dried mint.
An old woman sat behind the counter. She had skin like wrinkled parchment and wore a heavy gray shawl. She didn't look up from the mortar she was grinding.
"What do you want, tall one?" she croaked. "If you caught the rot from the girls at Madame Eve's, I charge double."
"Health potions," Renn said. He stepped up to the counter and placed ten silver pieces on the worn wood. "The strongest you have."
The old woman stopped grinding. She eyed the silver, then looked up at Renn's iron mask. Her milky eyes narrowed.
"Ten silver gets you three vials of Red-Leaf extract," she said, sweeping the coins into a drawer beneath the counter. She reached under the desk and pulled out three small, corked glass vials filled with a thin, red liquid. "It'll stop moderate bleeding and close shallow cuts. Don't expect it to regrow a missing arm."
Renn picked up one of the vials. He uncorked it and sniffed. It smelled like copper and crushed berries. Weak. Diluted. Barely Rank 1 quality.
"I also need poison," Renn said. "Something fast."
The old woman chuckled. A dry, rattling sound. "A healer and a killer. You mercs are all the same. Three silver for a vial of Black Mamba venom. Coats one blade. Paralysis in two minutes, heart stops in five."
Renn placed three more silver coins on the counter. The woman handed him a tiny, black glass vial.
He didn't leave the shop immediately. He stepped back into a shadowed corner, away from the old woman's line of sight.
He held the three red health potions in his left hand. He held the black poison vial in his right.
"System," he muttered under his breath.
*Ding.*
[Target 1: Diluted Red-Leaf Extract x3]
[Target 2: Black Mamba Venom x1]
[Synthesis requirements met. Warning: Combining healing agents with highly toxic compounds usually results in catastrophic failure or unstable sludge. Proceed?]
"Proceed."
The blue grid expanded from his pupils. It wrapped around his hands, hiding the process in the dark corner. The glass vials melted away. The red liquid and the black venom floated in the air, swirling together like oil and water. They resisted at first. The red tried to purify the black. The black tried to rot the red.
The system forced them to fuse.
A sharp hissing sound filled the corner. The old woman at the counter didn't seem to hear it.
[Synthesis complete. Mutation triggered due to Abyssal energy interference from Host.]
[Result: Vial of Corrupted Blood (Special Consumable).]
[Effect: When ingested, grants massive, instantaneous cellular regeneration for ten seconds. Side effect: Induces intense, temporary berserker rage and physical pain.]
A single, thick crystal vial dropped into his palm. The liquid inside wasn't red or black. It was a deep, swirling purple. It looked exactly like the abyssal mist that had tried to eat him on the altar.
He smiled beneath the iron mask. Perfect. A panic button.
He tucked the purple vial into a leather pouch on his belt. He walked out of the apothecary without another word.
The Deep Iron Mine sat five miles east of the ravine, carved into the side of a jagged mountain peak.
Renn covered the distance in less than thirty minutes. The Nightfall Demon Wolf bloodline provided endless stamina. He didn't run on the main dirt road. He moved through the dense forest parallel to it, jumping from branch to branch, leaping over ravines with effortless grace. He was testing his new body. Pushing the limits of his leg muscles. He could clear forty feet in a single bound. The wind whipped past his face, cooling the unnatural heat in his chest.
He reached the perimeter of the mine just as the sun broke through the gray clouds.
The entrance was a massive, gaping hole in the rock face, reinforced with heavy wooden beams. Several rusted ore carts sat on tracks leading out of the darkness.
There were no miners. No guards. No signs of life.
The silence was wrong. Even an abandoned mine had ambient noise. Wind whistling through the shafts. Water dripping.
Renn dropped from a tall oak tree, landing silently near the entrance. He crouched behind an overturned ore cart.
He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose.
The scent profile was complex. Damp earth. Rusted iron. Stale sweat.
And blood. Old blood.
He opened his eyes and stepped out from behind the cart. He walked toward the dark entrance. The Bone-Iron mask felt cold against his skin. He drew the Night-Stalker blade from his belt. The matte black steel drank the morning sunlight.
He stepped into the tunnel.
The temperature dropped immediately. The smell of copper grew stronger.
Ten paces in, he found the first body.
A miner in overalls lay face down in the dirt. His back was torn open. Massive claw marks, three inches deep, ripped through his spine.
Renn knelt beside the corpse. He touched the edge of the wound. The flesh was cold, but not stiff. Dead for maybe six hours.
He continued deeper. The tunnel sloped downward. The natural light faded entirely, replaced by the faint, luminescent glow of glowing moss clinging to the damp walls.
More bodies dotted the tracks. Some were torn apart. Others were completely crushed, their bones pulverized into the dirt.
[Devour talent triggered.]
Faint red wisps seeped from the corpses, flowing into Renn's boots. It was weak energy. Normal humans. But it topped off his stamina reserves perfectly. He wasted nothing.
The tunnel widened into a massive central cavern. This was Sector 4. The main excavation site. Huge wooden scaffolding clung to the walls. Deep pits dropped into the blackness below.
Renn stopped at the edge of the cavern.
He heard it before he saw it.
A rhythmic, heavy thudding. Like a boulder being repeatedly dropped onto the rock floor.
He pressed his back against a wooden support beam. He peered around the edge.
In the center of the cavern, surrounded by scattered pickaxes and broken lanterns, stood the beast.
It was a bear. But not a normal bear.
It stood eight feet tall on all fours. Its fur was replaced by thick, overlapping plates of dark, jagged rock and iron ore. Veins of glowing red mana pulsed between the plates, illuminating the dark cavern. Its claws were a foot long, made of solid, razor-sharp obsidian.
An Iron-Core Ursus. A peak Rank 2 magical beast. Highly territorial. Extremely aggressive. Its physical defense was notoriously high, capable of deflecting standard spells and heavy weaponry.
It was currently chewing on the lower half of a miner. Bone crunched loudly in the echoing space.
But that wasn't what caught Renn's attention.
To the right of the beast, near the cavern wall, three men in pristine white cloaks stood completely still.
Inquisitors.
They weren't wearing the standard tracker gear. They wore the silver-trimmed robes of the Church's inner circle. One of them held a long, silver staff topped with a glowing crystal.
They were watching the bear. They weren't attacking it.
"The mutation is stabilizing," the man with the staff said. His voice echoed slightly in the cavern. "The Abyssal shard we planted in the lower vein is doing its job. The beast absorbed the corruption perfectly."
"Commander Arthur will be pleased," a second Inquisitor replied, holding a heavy crossbow. "A corrupted Rank 2 beast. We let it wander into the ravine, let it slaughter a few dozen demi-humans and smugglers. Then we march in, cleanse the beast in the name of the Light, and annex the territory. Text-book."
"And the Silver Moon Clan takes the blame for the corruption," the third Inquisitor chuckled. "I heard they've already begun retreating deeper into the Northern Wastes. They lost their little prince. They have no morale."
Renn's grip on the Night-Stalker blade tightened. The leather wrap squeaked in protest.
Arthur. Always Arthur.
They didn't just frame him. They were using the exact same abyssal fragments to create artificial disasters, expanding the Church's territory while systematically destroying the reputation of the non-human races.
The Iron-Core Ursus finished its meal. It let out a low, rumbling growl, turning its massive head toward the three Inquisitors. The red mana lines in its rock-armor flared brightly.
"It's getting hungry again," the staff-wielding Inquisitor noted calmly. "Activate the pacification rune. Let's move it to the surface."
He raised his staff. The crystal glowed with a harsh, white holy light.
Renn stepped out from behind the wooden beam.
He didn't try to hide his presence anymore. He let his heavy boots strike the stone floor. *Clack.*
The three Inquisitors spun around. The holy light from the staff illuminated Renn's tall, dark figure. The gray trench coat. The cold, unfeeling Bone-Iron mask. The black blade in his hand.
"Who's there?" the staff-wielder demanded. "This area is under Church jurisdiction. Leave immediately or face purification."
Renn didn't stop walking. He kept his pace slow. Deliberate.
"Purification," Renn repeated. The distorted, gravelly voice echoed off the cavern walls. "You throw poison into a well, and then charge the village for the cure."
"Kill him," the leader ordered without hesitation.
The Inquisitor with the crossbow raised his weapon and fired.
*Thwack.*
The heavy steel bolt streaked through the air, aimed directly at Renn's chest.
Renn didn't block it with his sword. He didn't dodge.
He simply raised his left hand, palm open.
The steel bolt hit his palm. The impact was heavy, but the Nightfall Demon Wolf scales beneath his glove didn't yield. The bolt stopped dead, dropping to the stone floor with a loud clatter.
The crossbowman stared at the fallen bolt, his jaw dropping open. "What..."
The Iron-Core Ursus roared. The sudden noise and the flash of holy light agitated the beast. It ignored the Inquisitors and charged straight at the new intruder walking into its territory.
Eight feet of armored muscle and rage barreled toward Renn like a runaway freight train. The ground shook violently with every step it took.
Renn didn't look at the bear. He kept his eyes locked on the three men in white cloaks. 雷恩没有看那只熊.他的目光一直锁定着那三个身穿白斗篷的人.
He lowered his center of gravity. His thigh muscles coiled like thick steel cables. 他降低了重心.他的大腿肌肉像粗钢缆一样盘绕着.
The bear was ten feet away. Five feet. 那只熊距他十英尺远.五英尺.
It lunged, raising a massive, rock-plated paw to crush Renn into the dirt. 它猛扑过来,举起一只巨大的,岩石般的爪子,将雷恩压进泥土里.
Renn moved. 雷恩动了.
He didn't step back. He stepped directly inside the bear's guard. He ducked under the sweeping obsidian claws. 他没有后退.他直接踏入了熊的守卫之中.他躲在黑曜石般的利爪下.
He planted his left foot firmly on the ground, twisting his waist. He channeled every ounce of the Demon Wolf's kinetic energy into his right arm. 他将左脚稳稳地踩在地上,扭动着腰.他将魔狼的每一丝动能都注入了自己的右臂.
He swung the Night-Stalker blade upward in a brutal, two-handed uppercut. 他用双手猛烈地挥舞着夜行者的剑刃.
The matte black steel met the dense iron-ore plating under the bear's jaw. 哑光黑钢与熊下颌下致密的铁矿石镀层相遇.
*CRACK.* *裂缝.*
The sound was deafening. The sheer physical force of the blow shattered the bear's natural armor. The black blade cleaved through the rock, slicing deep into the beast's lower jaw and up into its skull. 声音震耳欲聋.纯粹的物理力量这一击粉碎了熊的天然盔甲.黑色的刀刃劈开岩石,深深切入野兽的下颌,一直切入头骨.
The momentum lifted the three-ton bear completely off its front paws. 冲力使这头三吨重的熊完全脱离了前爪.
Renn wrenched the blade free, stepping to the side. 雷恩挣脱刀片,走到一边.
The Iron-Core Ursus crashed to the ground, its head split open, black blood pooling rapidly on the stone floor. It twitched once, then lay still. 铁核乌萨斯重重地摔在了地上,头颅裂开,黑色的血液在石板上急速流淌.它抽搐了一下,然后就一动不动了.
A peak Rank 2 magical beast. Killed in a single strike. 二阶巅峰魔兽.一击毙命.
Silence slammed back into the cavern. 山洞里又恢复了寂静.
The three Inquisitors stood frozen in place. The holy light on the staff flickered and died. The crossbowman dropped his weapon entirely. His hands shook violently. 三位审判官僵在原地.法杖上的圣光闪烁了一下,便熄灭了.弩手彻底放下了武器.他的双手剧烈颤抖.
Renn flicked his blade to the side. A line of thick black blood splattered against the rock wall. 雷恩将剑弹到一边.一道浓浓的黑血溅落在岩壁上.
He slowly raised his head, looking at the terrified men through the eye-slits of his mask. The silver irises glowed with a predatory, unnatural light. 他缓缓抬起头,透过面具的眼缝看着惊恐的人们.银色的虹膜闪烁着掠夺性的,不自然的光芒.
"Now," Renn said, stepping over the dead bear. "Let's talk about Arthur.""现在,"雷恩跨过死熊说道. "我们来谈谈亚瑟吧."