The Fang Beast lunged, claws extended, fangs glinting with saliva and bloodlust.
Arthur sprang from the bushes, heart pounding like a war drum. He barely had time to think—just act. The moment the beast came into range, he slashed horizontally with the Beast Fang Sword.
Clang!
Sparks flew as his sword struck the beast's bony shoulder. It wasn't a clean hit—the creature's natural armor was tougher than he expected. The impact sent a jarring shock through his arms, and he nearly lost his grip.
"Damn, this thing's built like a tank!"
The beast snarled and lunged again, this time swiping with its claws. Arthur ducked, narrowly avoiding a lethal gash to the face. He rolled to the side, dirt clinging to his sweat-soaked shirt, and came back to his feet in a crouch.
Thrust!
He drove the blade forward, aiming for the beast's exposed underbelly. The sword sank halfway in—finally piercing flesh. The Fang Beast howled and staggered back, blood dripping from its side.
Arthur didn't wait.
He charged forward, adrenaline overtaking fear, and delivered a flurry of attacks—slashes, jabs, and desperate swings. The beast fought back viciously, clawing and biting, but its movements began to slow. The injury was deep.
Arthur took another hit to the shoulder—a grazing blow from a claw that tore his sleeve and bit into his skin.
"Tch—it hurts!"
He backed off, catching his breath, watching the beast circle him warily now. Blood dripped from both of them—one out of instinct, the other out of sheer effort.
The beast lunged one last time, mouth wide and eyes blazing.
Arthur stepped aside at the last moment, pivoted his body, and with every ounce of power he had left—
Slash!
He brought the sword down diagonally from shoulder to chest. The blade carved through muscle and bone, and the Fang Beast collapsed with a final, guttural snarl.
For a second, all he could hear was his own breathing. Heavy. Ragged.
He stood still, sword trembling in his grip, body aching, blood oozing from a cut on his shoulder.
And then, a tired, almost disbelieving grin spread across his face.
"I… I actually did it."
The corpse of the Fang Beast lay still at Arthur's feet.
His chest heaved as he stared down at the motionless body. Blood trickled down his arm, soaking into his already-torn shirt. It wasn't elegant. It wasn't glorious. But it was real.
In a battle of life and death, glory, elegance, or fairness didn't exist. There was only the will to survive—and to kill before being killed.
Ding!
> [Congratulations, Lord.]
> You have defeated your first monster in this world.
> Rewards:
> 100,000 SP
> [Multiplier] (1x)
Arthur blinked as the system notification lit up before his eyes.
> "A hundred thousand points?" he muttered in disbelief.
That was a massive reward for a single kill—especially for someone who had only just begun.
But it was the second reward that truly caught his attention.
> "Multiplier?"
His curiosity piqued, Arthur tapped on the item icon hovering in the system panel. A new window expanded, displaying a glowing image of a radiant lotus—its petals swirling with streaks of violet and faint motes of starlight drifting off its surface.
---
Item: Multiplier
Rank: Purple
Type: Passive Artifact
Effect: Doubles the absorption rate of all forms of energy—including Qi, Soul Force, Mana, Aura, and Physical Vitality. Works continuously while equipped.
Note: Cannot be stacked. Bound to user permanently upon activation.
---
Arthur's eyes widened as he read the description.
"A passive item that doubles energy absorption?"
He couldn't help the grin forming on his face. This wasn't just useful—it was a godsend for someone starting at the very bottom. His slow, painful breathing exercises and energy-gathering would now yield twice the result for the same effort.
"With this… my breathing techniques, my Qi gathering, even my soul force development… they'll all skyrocket."
He clenched his fists, feeling a burst of hope and excitement surge through his tired body.
The pain from the fight hadn't fully faded. His arms still trembled slightly from fatigue. But this—this reward—was more than enough to ignite the fire in his heart once again.
Arthur exhaled slowly, and focused on the monster first.
"Now… let's cut the parts I can sell."
He crouched beside the beast, recalling the precise movements of that adventurer team. He remembered how they stripped the creatures—muscle memory carried over from the original body's knowledge helped guide him.
But first, the pain in his shoulder throbbed—sharp, hot, and pulsing with each breath. Arthur winced.
"It hurts so much. Is this what I'll have to bear every time I fight? Every time I hunt?"
He opened the system store.
---
> [Healing Potion – Minor Grade]
> Effect: Heals minor external injuries, closes small wounds
> Cost: 500 SP
---
Without hesitation, he bought five. The moment he drank one, a cooling sensation spread through his body. The pain dulled, and the bleeding slowed to a halt.
Relieved, Arthur wiped his brow, raised his sword again, and got to work. The cuts weren't graceful, and the blade snagged at times, but he managed to extract most of the beast's usable parts—fangs, claws, hide patches, and a portion of the core bone.
"I read somewhere that blood attracts other animals…"
The scent of iron was thick in the air. The longer he lingered, the higher the risk.
Arthur packed everything into his backpack—now heavy and reeking—and began the long trek back toward Eldor.
---
In the City of Eldor...
The adventurer's guild stood like a medieval tavern with fortified stone walls, oak double-doors, and a faded banner swaying in the breeze. The scent of sweat, alcohol, and smoke hung in the air.
Arthur pushed the door open—and was instantly met by dozens of stares.
Eyes followed him—curious, skeptical, amused. He kept his head low and didn't make eye contact. His clothes were torn, his pack smelled of blood, and his face was marked by dirt and dried sweat.
He walked straight to the counter.
A young woman stood behind it, her uniform crisp and eyes sharp. She smiled politely, clearly used to blood-covered newbies walking in.
"Is this where I can sell monster parts?" Arthur asked, voice low but steady.
"Yes, sir," she replied. "But first, we'll need to inspect the goods."
Arthur unslung his backpack and placed its contents onto the counter.
"This is it."
The receptionist pulled on a pair of thin gloves and examined each item—checking the fangs for chips, the claws for symmetry, and the hide for tearing.
After a moment, she looked up and gave a small, apologetic smile.
"We can offer you ten silver coins."
Arthur frowned, unsure whether that was fair—or if he was being taken for a fool.
Noticing his hesitation, the girl added quickly:
"I know it seems low. The issue isn't the parts themselves, but how they were harvested. Many of the cuts are jagged, some of the materials are partially damaged. Smooth, clean extraction increases value considerably."
She bowed her head slightly in apology.
"I'm sorry, but ten silver coins is the best we can offer for this batch."
Arthur exhaled, frustration settling in his chest—but not anger. He understood. He was new to this. It wasn't just about killing the monster. Even harvesting had its technique.
"I'll take it," he said quietly.
The girl nodded and handed over the coins, along with a receipt slip.
"Thank you for your contribution, sir. If you plan to hunt again, I'd recommend looking at the resource guides near the quest board. We also offer training manuals for newcomers."
Arthur gave a tired nod and pocketed the silver.
Step by step, he was learning. Painfully, clumsily—but learning.
"By the way... I can book a room here, right?"
The receptionist, a friendly young woman with a calm demeanor, smiled and nodded.
"Yes, sir. One silver coin per day—that includes a private room and meals."
Arthur reached into his pouch and handed over a single silver coin without hesitation.
"I'll be staying here for a while."
"Understood." She slid him a simple iron key with a tag. "Your room is on the fourth floor, last one at the corner."
Arthur took the key, nodded in thanks, and made his way upstairs.
On the fourth floor, he walked down a narrow hallway until he reached the door at the far end. Sliding the key into the lock, he pushed it open.
The room wasn't luxurious by any means, but it was clean, well-kept, and surprisingly comfortable. A simple bed with clean sheets, a modern iron desk by the window, and a sturdy wardrobe stood ready. Most importantly, there was silence.
He exhaled slowly and set his gear down.
The tavern's location near the city gate made it the perfect temporary base—he could leave at dawn for the wilds and return by dusk without trouble. But it wasn't enough.
He glanced out the small window, the rooftops of Eldor stretching into the horizon.
"This is good for now... but I still need a place of my own. A real home. Somewhere I can train without being disturbed."
His expression turned somber.
He remembered walking through the city earlier, passing by real estate signs and listings. Even the most modest homes within the inner ring cost several gold coins—far beyond what he currently had.
"Even a small house costs more gold than I've ever seen... and I only managed to earn ten silver coins today."
He sighed and leaned back on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
"Still... it's a start."
..
...
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