"I should keep going for now," Vergil muttered, brushing off moss from his glove as he stood. "I've only collected five Astralyth Crystals… not even close to what I need."
His gaze drifted to the faint, pulsing glow of the last crystal he harvested. The fragments shimmered with residual mana—valuable, yes, but not enough.
I need to upgrade my core as soon as possible. With this rate of growth, I'm still too far behind. If I could just find more…
He exhaled sharply and activated one of his more subtle boons.
"Mana Affinity."
Mana stirred inside him like a second pulse, humming in his veins. The air around his skin shimmered faintly as his body responded—muscles firing cleaner, balance refined, senses heightening just slightly.
His boots barely disturbed the fallen leaves as he took off into a run, weaving between trees and vaulting over roots and boulders. The fog was thinning in places, parting like silk where ambient mana was stronger.
That's when he caught it.
A low hum beneath the ground. Faint, but steady. The same hum he'd felt before—when a cluster of Goremires had nested nearby.
He slowed and crouched by a rotted log, scanning the terrain ahead.
The trees opened into a shallow clearing, sunlight bleeding weakly through the mist. At the center: a jagged pit surrounded by clusters of glowing mushrooms and corpse-ridden debris. Vines pulsed faintly across the walls of the crater, and from inside…
Movement.
A large, hunched figure shifted in the dim light. Its moss-covered back rose and fell like a mountain breathing, and fungal stalks jutted from its spine. Its arms were longer than the others, ending in sharp, splinter-like claws. Its eyes burned faint green in the dark.
"A nest," Vergil whispered. "And that… isn't a regular Goremire."
He focused.
"Analysis."
---
[Analysis Activated]
Target: Verdant Goremire King (E+)
Lv: 11
Tier:0
Species : Mutated Plant-Beast Hybrid
Class none
Stats
Strength: 38
Constitution: 42
Dexterity: 32
Intuition-9
Magic Power: 26
Mana Capacity: 28
---
Passive Skills:
• Verdant Core (E+): Accelerated passive regeneration, particularly when near flora. Slightly drains mana from the environment to heal.
• Mycelial Armor (F+): Mushrooms and bark armor reduce incoming damage. Weak to fire and blunt force.
• Toxin Spores (F): Body periodically releases low-grade spores that can weaken stamina and slow reflexes.
---
Active Skills:
• Root Snare (F): Creates entangling roots in a small radius.
• Limb Burst (F+): Detonates excess limb mass in a cone of acidic damage.
• Mire Slam (F): Slams the ground, creating a shockwave.
• Fungal Eruption (E-): Launches toxic spores in all directions.
• King's Call (?)Unknown effect. May summon or awaken nearby lesser Goremires.
Mycelial Surge (E)- A mutation-based ability that grants the user control over aggressive mycelium and toxic spore release. Enhances regeneration and battlefield control by corrupting the surrounding environment.
Vergil's jaw tightened.
"Figures. A mutated king… and it's sitting on top of a nest packed with mana-rich flora. That explains the crystal density.
He eased backward into the brush, keeping low.
If I kill that thing, the circle boost alone is worth it… but one wrong move and this forest becomes my grave, currently i dont have any blunt weapons, but it should be alright.
Still, his heart beat faster—not with fear, but hunger.
This was the kind of challenge he needed. The next step toward the power he sought.
And he wasn't going to let it slip by.
"Let's try a different approach," Vergil murmured, ducking behind the twisted bark of a dead tree. The thick mist curled at his boots, making every breath feel like inhaling the swamp itself.
Rushing in would be suicide. The Verdant Goremire King towered above its kin, sluggish but impossibly durable. With that regeneration, he couldn't afford a drawn-out fight—not without softening it up first.
If that thing activates "King's Call," I'll be dealing with a damn infestation.
He reached into his inventory with a thought, drawing out his [Steelwood Bow] and a quiver of steel-tipped arrows. The bow gave a soft thrum, faintly resonating with the mana in his blood. He hadn't trained with the weapon extensively, but he had just enough to use it when it counted.
He nocked an arrow, fingers steady but not flawless. His shoulders were slightly misaligned, his footing not perfect—but it was better than last time.
[Bow-Sword Mastery (Passive)] – Proficiency increased.
+3% Bow Proficiency
Total: 11%
Vergil narrowed his eyes, steadying his breath. Then he whispered:
"Ember Blaze."
Mana sparked through his fingers, flowing into the arrowhead with a subtle warmth. The tip ignited with a restrained, focused flame—hot, but quiet. Smoke curled from the arrowhead, casting flickering light across his focused expression.
He drew the bowstring back, the fire illuminating the growing tension in his arms.
[Ember Spark Proficiency: +10%]
New Total: 27%
The arrow burned brighter.
He loosed it.
FWUMP—thnk!
The flaming arrow soared through the mist, slicing cleanly into the mossy shoulder of the Goremire King. A heartbeat later—
BOOM.
Flame erupted from the impact point, devouring the spores across its bark-like armor. The beast let out a guttural screech, stumbling back into the earthen wall of its nest. Black smoke hissed from the wound as the fire spread through the rot-coated moss.
Vergil exhaled, reaching for another arrow.
Still not perfect. But better. Clean release, less strain in the shoulder… Bow stance is coming together.
But the King was already recovering. Moss began to twitch and pulse, the scorched bark knitting together at a glacial pace.
That regeneration… it's definitely stronger than the others. At least mid-E rank.
The Goremire King stood tall now, fungal stalks rising from its spine like grotesque antlers. Glowing green eyes flared beneath its crown of rotted flesh and spores. It turned toward where the arrow had come from.
Then it moved—slow, but deliberate.
Vergil's grip tightened.
"Come on then," he muttered, flame already gathering in his next arrow.
This wasn't about the perfect shot.
This was about stacking every advantage… before the real battle began.
The Goremire King let out a deep, throaty roar—more of a vibration than a sound. Fungal growths quivered on its limbs, spores leaking from its bark-like skin as it advanced through the nest's underbrush.
Vergil didn't flinch.
He drew another arrow with precision—this time a bit faster. The subtle correction in his footing gave him more stability, and he could feel it. Every draw was smoother. Every breath more controlled.
"Ember Blaze."
The spell activated again, this time almost instantly as the mana channeled into the arrow without resistance. The flame ignited stronger than before, rippling across the tip with a faint hum of power.
[Ember Blaze Proficiency: +3%]
Current: 30%
He loosed the arrow with a sharp exhale.
FWUMP—CRACK.
It struck the Goremire King square in the torso, where thick fungal masses had begun to bloom. Fire exploded across the surface, and this time the beast staggered hard—its arm twitching violently as the mossy flesh curled away from the heat.
But even through the smoke, Vergil could see the twitch of regrowth. It was slower now—maybe enough to matter—but it was still healing.
He reached for another arrow… then stopped.
No. It's closing in now. Bow's only going to slow me down in tight range.
With a flick of thought and mana, Vergil dismissed the bow into his inventory and summoned the [Steel Fang Sword], its edge faintly gleaming with embers still clinging to his aura.
But he didn't summon the shield.
Not yet.
If I bring out the shield, I'll slow down too much. I need speed, not bulk. My regeneration can keep me alive long enough—but if I can't move fast enough to hit and dodge, I'm done.
The memory of his earlier brush with death flashed behind his eyes. Being cornered, overpowered, overwhelmed. He wouldn't repeat that mistake.
I've got the stamina now… I just need to keep moving.
He rolled his shoulders, fire dancing across his blade.
"Let's see if you can keep up with me now you fat son of a bitch."
The Goremire King let out another roar, limbs widening, roots clawing through the dirt as it prepared to charge.
Vergil lowered his stance.
Sword in hand.
No shield.
Just speed, fire, and the hunger to kill.
Vergil tightened his grip on the [Steel Fang Sword], fingers pulsing slightly with the residual heat of mana running through them.
"Ember Blaze," he muttered.
The spell responded, flaring to life along the blade's edge. Flames licked up the steel, dancing unevenly—stronger at the tip, flickering toward the hilt. It wasn't perfect. The enchantment wavered near the middle of the blade, flickering like a candle caught in the wind.
[Ember Blaze Proficiency: +2%]
Current: 32%
Still not stable… but it'll do.
He could feel the heat against his knuckles, the uneven pull of the fire as it fed off his mana. The imperfect coating meant the damage wouldn't be fully optimized, but even an unstable blaze was enough to burn through rot and fungus.
The Goremire King lurched forward.
It was faster than its bulk suggested—its massive form rolling with unnatural elasticity, the limbs splitting and extending like roots through softened ground. Thorned tendrils snapped out as it swiped, scattering spores through the air.
Vergil dashed to the side, narrowly avoiding a piercing jab. The mist lit up as fire clashed with rot, and his blade struck low, cutting into the beast's leg with a sizzling HSSSSK as fungal tissue burned and blackened.
The Goremire shrieked—not in pain, but rage.
It spun, massive limb coming down like a hammer.
Vergil ducked and rolled under it, slashing upward again mid-motion. The impact wasn't deep, but the flame did its job—stopping the healing in that area for just a moment longer.
He slid back, panting, the sword glowing faintly orange now.
This is working… just not efficiently. If I can get Ember Blaze to flow evenly across the blade, my damage will double. But I'll have to refine it.
Still, every cut mattered. Every second the fire delayed the regeneration was a second closer to victory.
He eyed the beast as it snarled, some parts of its body already twitching to repair themselves.
Vergil raised his sword again, a crooked grin breaking across his face.
"Come on, let's dance!"
The Goremire King charged again, its massive bulk undulating forward like a landslide of rot and muscle. Its tendrils whipped out in arcs—razor-sharp, dripping spores and malice.
Vergil's body tensed.
Too fast—
He pivoted sideways, eyes narrowed.
"Power Strike!"
His blade surged forward, not to meet the tendril head-on, but to knock it off trajectory. The impact redirected the limb just past his shoulder, the flaming sword grazing its edge with a hiss. Burning tissue flaked away and splattered onto the ground.
I'm not strong enough to clash with it directly, Vergil thought, skidding back, his boots kicking up damp soil. But if I use Power Strike defensively, I can shift momentum instead of brute-forcing it.
The Goremire King twisted again, its torso splitting open to reveal rows of jagged, spore-filled maws. It lunged forward with a snap.
Vergil threw himself under it and rolled.
"Power Strike!"
This time, he slashed upward along its underbelly, the fire-enhanced blade carving a burning arc as it cleaved fungal tissue. Black sludge erupted, and the beast howled in protest, staggering back.
"Still regenerating…" Vergil muttered, already repositioning. "That core must be buried deep."
Suddenly, a tendril came from his blind side—silent, too fast to dodge.
'Quick Parry!'
He twisted his torso and brought his sword up in a snapping motion. Sparks and flame burst out as steel met rot—the blow was partially deflected, grazing his shoulder but sparing him from a direct impalement.
"Close," he hissed, his shoulder aching from the glancing hit, but the regeneration ability healed it, but his stamina was draining.
He circled again, breathing heavily, eyes scanning the creature's form.
Its gait had slowed. Parts of its body now burned more than healed. Each Power Strike left deeper scorch marks—Ember Blaze, even imperfect, was doing its job.
Can't keep this up forever, though… stamina's draining. Need to find an opening—maybe a weak point near the core.
Vergil flicked the blood and ash from his blade.
"Alright, King," he whispered, heart hammering. "Let's see how long you can keep patching yourself together."
The Goremire King charged again, its massive bulk undulating forward like a landslide of rot and muscle. Its tendrils whipped out in arcs—razor-sharp, dripping spores and malice.
Vergil's body tensed.
Too fast—
He pivoted sideways, eyes narrowed.
"Power Strike!"
His blade surged forward, not to meet the tendril head-on, but to knock it off trajectory. The impact redirected the limb just past his shoulder, the flaming sword grazing its edge with a hiss. Burning tissue flaked away and splattered onto the ground.
I'm not strong enough to clash with it directly, Vergil thought, skidding back, his boots kicking up damp soil. But if I use Power Strike defensively, I can shift momentum instead of brute-forcing it.
The Goremire King twisted again, its torso splitting open to reveal rows of jagged, spore-filled maws. It lunged forward with a snap.
Vergil threw himself under it and rolled.
"Power Strike!"
This time, he slashed upward along its underbelly, the fire-enhanced blade carving a burning arc as it cleaved fungal tissue. Black sludge erupted, and the beast howled in protest, staggering back.
"Still regenerating…" Vergil muttered, already repositioning. "That core must be buried deep."
Suddenly, a tendril came from his blind side—silent, too fast to dodge.
"Quick Parry!"
He twisted his torso and brought his sword up in a snapping motion. Sparks and flame burst out as steel met rot—the blow was partially deflected, grazing his shoulder but sparing him from a direct impalement.
"Close," he hissed, his shoulder aching from the glancing hit.
He circled again, breathing heavily, eyes scanning the creature's form.
Its gait had slowed. Parts of its body now burned more than healed. Each Power Strike left deeper scorch marks—Ember Blaze, even imperfect, was doing its job.
Can't keep this up forever, though… stamina's draining. Need to find an opening—maybe a weak point near the core.
Vergil flicked the blood and ash from his blade.
"Alright, King," he whispered, heart hammering. "Let's see how long you can keep patching yourself together."
The Goremire King let out a low, guttural shriek—its fungal mass rippling, exuding waves of sickly green mist. The ground pulsed with rot as its body surged with corrupted mana.
Dozens of tendrils burst from its back, writhing unnaturally as they elongated, snapping through the air like whips. Fungal spores erupted from its torso in a thick, toxic haze.
Vergil's eyes narrowed. 'It's going all in.'
He raised his free hand. "Ember Blaze."
Fire sparked from his palm, dancing along his fingers. The flames weren't perfect—too unstable, flickering—but they were hot enough.
It's not just my blade that can burn you.
With a sharp breath, Vergil thrust his flaming hand into one of the incoming tendrils.
SSSSHHKK!
The tendril writhed violently as the fire seared into it. The flesh hissed and blackened, the spore-veins within it popping like infected boils. The creature flinched—just a twitch—but it was enough.
Vergil ducked under another lash and ran forward, sliding across wet earth as he pressed his burning hand against the King's massive leg.
"Burn."
Flesh sizzled. The fire surged along the Goremire King's body, a chain reaction igniting the thick spores layered over its fungal carapace. The beast reared back in pain.
But the air around them turned dense—poisonous.
[Mycelial Surge: Aura of Decay activated. Passive Regeneration increased. Poison field active.]
Vergil coughed, smoke and poison clinging to his throat.
"Dammit—fire's not enough to outpace that regeneration…"
Still, his eyes remained locked. He wasn't here to win in a clash of brute force. He was learning. Testing.
And waiting for one clean, decisive blow.
'Although toxin resilience is helping it can only do so much, the only good part is that its increasing my proficiency'
But if I don't end this soon, the poison might wear me down first.
He clenched his fist tighter, flames surging brighter across his fingers.
"Then I'll just have to burn through everything you are."
Certainly! Picking up from where Vergil was clashing with the Verdant Goremire King, flames still flickering across his hands and blade:
---
The Goremire King roared—a low, wet sound that echoed with fungal gurgles. Its mossy chest swelled unnaturally as Mycelial Surge activated. Thick cords of mycelium pulsed from its back and legs, pumping strength into its limbs as spores hissed into the air.
Vergil's eyes narrowed. That's the skill.
He could feel the air getting heavier. His breathing grew just slightly more labored—subtle, but dangerous if left alone.
The moment the monster lunged, spore trails trailing like smoke, Vergil stepped to the side—just enough.
[Power Strike – Activated!]
He twisted his body and slammed his sword upward into its extended limb, a flare of fire erupting across the blade. It carved a deep slash across the King's shoulder, sending chunks of mushroom flesh scattering.
But the beast didn't flinch.
Another slam came from the opposite side. Too close.
[Quick Parry – Activated!]
Steel clanged and scraped as Vergil redirected the blow, his knees buckling slightly from the force, but his stance held.
A sickly green eye blinked open on the King's shoulder. More spores hissed out.
It's adapting... fast.
Vergil's left hand flared. He clenched his palm, igniting it with Ember Blaze, and punched directly into the Goremire's side, searing through soft rot and blackening the fungal tissue. The King reeled back, steam rising from its wound, screeching in rage.
Sparks flickered up his arm. Still imperfect... the channeling's rough, he noted grimly.
But it was working.
The monster staggered, its balance thrown off as one of its legs twisted from the burns. It prepared to retaliate—but the spores surrounding it had begun to dim, its Mycelial Surge nearing its end.
Vergil could feel the battlefield tipping in his favor. He exhaled, keeping his senses sharp.
"I need to end this before it activates something worse."
The Goremire King, now staggered and half-burning, slammed both fists into the earth with a guttural shriek.
[King's Call – Activated!]
A deep tremor echoed through the fungal nest. Pulsing light surged through the mycelium veins across the battlefield. Nearby Goremires—smaller variants—lurched from their hiding places, drawn by the summons, but too far to intervene in time.
The King's wounds sealed slightly. Its form swelled with unnatural mass, spores pouring from its back like smoke from a dying forge.
Vergil narrowed his eyes. "Oh no you fucking don't."
He surged forward.
[Ember Blaze – Activated!]
Fire exploded along his sword again—hotter, wilder this time. The flames crawled up the blade like hungry serpents. Vergil gritted his teeth and leapt, ignoring the backlash in his arms from imperfect channeling.
The Goremire raised its arm for a desperate strike—too slow.
[Power Strike – Activated!]
The blade sliced through the neck, leaving a trail of smoldering fire in its wake. The Goremire King's head didn't fall—it burned, blackened, then exploded into ash as the flames consumed it from the inside out.
Its swollen fungal body staggered back, gurgled... and collapsed with a heavy, wet thud.
Vergil landed hard, sliding on moss-covered roots. Without wasting a second, he walked over to the corpse—steam rising from the burned core—and plunged his hand into the beast's chest.
His fingers curled around something pulsing, twitching.
RIIIP.
He tore out its Regenerative Core, still glowing with D-rank energy, dark green veins wrapping around the stone like vines.
The corpse of the Goremire King twitched one last time before going still. Vergil stood over it, flames still curling across his shoulder like a warning halo.
"You had your little kingdom," he muttered, voice low and calm.
"But playtime's over."
He extended his hand, and from the cracks in his skin, the black mouths erupted—gnashing, writhing, and hungry.
"Authority of Predation."
They devoured the king's remains with grotesque fervor, leaving only a twisted shimmer of mana behind. Vergil's eyes narrowed as he noticed something lodged in the remains—a pulsing orb of dark green and silver light.
'Looks like the bastard fused its regeneration core with the Astralyth stone. Smart… but not smart enough.'
He reached down and plucked it from the ruin.
[User has gained 2 Constitution and 4. Strength]
[User has absorbed 8 Skills from the Verdant Goremire King.]
[Skill: King's Call (E) is incompatible. Converted to 10 E-Rank Evolution Points.]
[Primal Awareness has been activated.]
Suddenly, the air shifted. The ground behind him cracked as a low growl echoed through the clearing.
[Warning: King's Call has triggered a final command.]
[One Royal Guard (E-Rank Elite) has been summoned.]
Vergil turned slowly, his expression unreadable as the Royal Guard stomped into view. It stood a head taller than the king, its fungal armor thick and steaming, a noxious mist trailing behind it.
"...Oh come on," Vergil muttered, shaking his head. "You're late you fucker."
The beast roared and charged.
Vergil raised his flaming hand. "Let me show you what your king taught me."
He snapped his fingers.
Ember Blaze surged along his blade like a wildfire, and in one clean strike, he dashed forward and sliced across the Royal Guard's torso, the flame igniting the spores instantly.
The creature screeched, staggered, and tried to retaliate—but Vergil danced just outside its reach, pivoted, then thrust the sword through its chest, using a burst of Power Strike and the skill thrust.
The fungal heart exploded in a spray of fire and rot.
The Royal Guard hit the ground, its armor cracking apart with a hiss.
Vergil leaned over it, grinning slightly.
"Next time, answer the call faster when your king calls and get a regeneration skill, your insulting your species." He said after using the Authority of predation on the gaurd
[User has gained 1 Strength, 1 Constitution, and 5 Skills.]
[User has levelled up]
New Skills Acquired:
Fungal Armor (F)
Spore Sense (F)
Rooted Recovery (F)
Toxic Burst (F)
Shield Slam (F)
Vergil flexed his hand, feeling the new powers stir beneath his skin.
'Put all points into dexterity'
[3 points allocated to dexterity]
Lets check my stats
Strength-36
Constitution -37
Dexterity-32
Intelligence-10
Wisdom -12
Magic power-20
Magic capacity-18
"Not bad, all my physical stats are in the 30s now let's see which skills are worth keeping." He said after picking up the royal guards Astralyth Stone.
'Ill check them on the way back
Vergil starter to make his way back
--------
Meanwhile, at Elvira's cottage…
Sunlight bathed the small training room in a golden hue, the scent of herbs and old parchment lingering faintly in the air. Eleanor sat cross-legged on the wooden floor, her palms open as soft pulses of energy radiated from her chest. Surrounding her were eight faintly glowing E-rank Astralyth crystals, each one crumbling to dust one by one as their energy was drawn into her core.
As the last crystal faded, a low hum resonated within her body. Her mana circle pulsed with newfound strength—denser, more refined, and almost ready to evolve. She took a deep breath, her hands trembling slightly from the rush of power.
"…I'm close," she murmured, eyes still closed. "Just a little more and I'll reach the second circle."
Elvira, watching nearby with arms folded and a sharp but proud expression, gave a faint nod. "Your control has improved. Keep your breathing steady—don't rush it. Forming the second circle is about harmony, not force."
Eleanor opened her eyes slowly, the air around her subtly vibrating with her growing magic.
She rose to her feet, brushed her dark bangs aside, and inhaled deeply. "I'll practice my spells again. From the top."
Her voice carried authority, shaped by instinct and emotion. With a fluid, melodic tone, she called out her first spell.
"Volt Lance!"
Blue sparks danced around her fingertips before condensing into a crackling lance of pure electricity, which shot toward the training dummy and exploded on impact with a sharp crack.
Elvira offered a small nod. "Cleaner than yesterday. Less bleed."
Eleanor didn't pause. She shifted her tone to something more resonant, deeper.
"Entangling Snare!"
The floor beneath a second dummy trembled as glowing green tendrils erupted, wrapping around its legs like living vines. The spell's grip was stronger now—firmer, more coordinated.
She shifted again, her voice quicker, sharper.
"Volt Lance!"
Another bolt of lightning surged forward, more controlled than the first. Her aim had improved, and the spell left a deeper mark on the wooden figure.
Eleanor lowered her hands and let out a breath. Her mana was flowing smoothly, and her core pulsed like a beating heart.
"I can feel it," she said quietly. "My voice is clearer… my magic responds faster. I'm nearly there."
Elvira allowed a faint smile to tug at her lips. "You're stabilizing faster than I expected. At this rate… your second circle will form within the week."
Eleanor's eyes sparkled with quiet determination.
She was ready—almost.