The forest had a pulse of its own—a subtle thrum beneath the soil that echoed in Leo's bones. His footsteps, feather-light thanks to his newly enhanced "Shadow Step [Rank D]", barely disturbed the underbrush. The moment the system prompted its evolution, a sharp current of mana had surged through his limbs, rewiring his senses.
"Shadow Step [Rank D]:
Move between shadowed locations within a 10-meter radius with near-silent execution. Grants +10% evasion against ranged attacks and minor resistance to light-based detection skills."
A grin ghosted across Leo's lips. It was more than mobility now. It was stealth, tactical advantage, and escape—all bundled in one elegant skill. The cooldown had decreased, and the precision was sharper. With each step, he became less a man and more a shadow with intent.
He ran drills beneath the cover of dusk, weaving between trees and boulders, teleporting with whisper-silent movements. Where he once stumbled through brambles, he now glided like the forest itself accepted him.
Then the whisper came—not from the wind, but from something deeper.
> "You walk lightly, little wolf. But death walks lighter still."
Leo spun, Verdant Fang already in hand.
The dagger was no ordinary weapon. It shimmered with a subtle green hue, its edge laced with veins of what looked like living ivy.
"Verdant Fang [Nature Affinity | Rare Grade | Rank D]:
Forged in the heartwood of the Elder Sylvan Tree, this dagger channels Nature mana. Bonus: +10% agility, +15% poison resistance, and unlocks 'Nature Pulse'—a passive skill that enhances your weapon's lethality in forest environments."
The system message had barely faded when he'd first drawn blood with it. It didn't just cut—it sang through flesh. More than that, it resonated with him, responding to his instincts as if it were alive.
He turned toward the voice and found no enemy—only Aerin, her cloak of bark and leaves parting as she stepped from a cluster of trees. She raised an eyebrow. "Impressive. The shadows favor you more than I expected."
Leo offered a silent nod. "I adapt quickly."
"Good," she replied. "Because the Hollow Tide won't wait for slow learners."
He followed her deeper into the forest, where the thick canopy blotted out most of the moonlight. Aerin's expression was grim, her movements brisk.
"The Hollow Tide isn't just a corruption surge," she began. "It's a cleansing cycle. The World Core—what's left of it—tries to purge Nimrune of its aberrations. But the corruption... it fights back."
Leo's mind raced. "So the Hollow Tide is both a threat and an opportunity?"
"Exactly. If you're strong enough to survive it, you grow. If not…" Her silence said more than words.
They reached a clearing where others—scouts, freelancers, and even a few branded as exiles—had gathered around a low fire. A map was splayed out on a mossy stump, marked with symbols and colored wax seals.
Aerin pointed at a crimson-marked region. "This is where the Tide will break through. If we can hold the line here, we might push it back. And if we're lucky, the Core will reward us."
Leo studied the terrain. Forest on one side, ruined stonework on the other. Strategic chokepoints. Natural traps. He could work with this.
"What do you need me to do?" he asked.
Aerin didn't smile, but something in her eyes softened. "Scout the perimeter. Use your new skill. Mark shadow-friendly paths. And Leo…"
He looked up.
"Don't die. I've already had to bury too many good blades."
He nodded, gripping Verdant Fang tighter.
As the forest darkened further and whispers returned—some of them real, some imagined—Leo stepped into the shadows once more. The Hollow Tide was coming. But so was he.
And he was ready.