Samuel did not look back.
There was no point.
The plains behind him were scorched and torn open, dotted with blackened craters like pockmarks on the skin of the world, steam still rising in thin white threads as the rain slowly claimed what the storm had shattered, and somewhere beneath the mud lay the remnants of his sack, his pelts, the crude dagger, the small things that once passed for possessions.
"Guess I'll travel lighter," he muttered.
He rolled his shoulders once, testing the new density in his flesh. The movement felt heavier—no, not heavier. Denser. As if each fiber had been packed tighter, layered with something unseen.
When he inhaled, mana moved differently inside him now, circulating in compact currents rather than loose waves.
And so he walked.
The first days were quiet and rainy.
The plains gradually shifted, the grass thinning into stretches of cracked stone and uneven ground where mana veins pulsed faintly beneath the surface like small rivers.
On the third day, still raining, a pack of horned drake-wolves stalked him from a ridge of basalt rock, their elongated bodies low and silent, crystalline horns crackling faintly with residual static like a storm.
Samuel didn't slow down. When the first lunged, he stepped slightly to the side and drove his elbow down through its skull with a wet, compressed crack that echoed too sharply for something so simple.
The others hesitated.
He didn't.
His body activated smoothly, no flare, no dramatic surge—just efficiency. He moved through them with calm precision, each strike placed exactly where it needed to be, joints collapsing, spines snapping, claws and thunder bolts shattering against his infused skin.
[Body hardening process: 10% → 10.01%]
He barely glanced at the notification.
By the second week, the terrain grew harsher as well as the still ongoing rain. Stone spires rose from the earth like broken teeth, and the nights grew colder.
Without pelts, the chill bit deeper—but his Temperature Resistance compensated, and when it did not, he simply circulated mana more aggressively until steam rose faintly from his shoulders.
Food was plentiful if one was strong enough to claim it.
He tore hide from a massive burrowing beast one evening, its armored back plates thick but flexible, and after dragging the carcass to a dry cave, he spent hours carving away sections of leather-like skin with sharpened stone and hardened fingernails. Mana coated his fingers in thin, cutting edges when necessary.
He worked in silence.
Thread he fashioned from sinew, twisting it tightly, testing its resilience between his fingers. The pant he soaked in river water, then stretched and beat against flat rock until it softened enough to bend without cracking.
The result was crude.
Rough.
Uneven.
But functional.
The new pants, after two weeks of traveling with really light weight, hung low on his hips, tied securely with braided tendon. They were thicker than his previous makeshift garments, dark gray with faint scale patterns still visible if one looked closely. When he moved, the material creaked faintly, adjusting to the shape of his thighs.
He nodded once.
"Good enough."
The weeks blurred into rhythm.
Walk. Hunt. Adapt.
Some days he trained deliberately, allowing monsters to strike him first just to test Mana Resistance, observing how external energy slid off his skin with increasing friction, how foreign mana now felt like rain hitting glass rather than soaking into cloth.
Once, a serpent twice his length spat concentrated acid-mana at his torso. The liquid sizzled and smoked—but did not penetrate. It ran down in streaks before evaporating entirely.
[Body hardening process: 10.2%]
He felt it slow. Even though every monster could hit him, the accumulated process was really small.
„Maybe…" Sam mumbled, „I need another mana storm?"
The land began to change again near the end of the first month and the rain stopped. Suddenly as if someone switched a button. The clouds ripped open and a faint ray of light kissed Sam's body.
He stopped and looked how the golden sun, stretched out winning more and more glittering wet ground every second.
The golden sun, the dark landscape, the white thick clouds and the smell of rain, "beautiful…" he muttered, while absorbing the moment for a few moments more.
The sun continued shining, not hot, rather comforting warm. While the ground sloped higher, slowly at first, so subtly that only someone who had walked for months without pause would notice how each step began to demand a little more from the calves and the air itself seemed to thicken.
Not violently like the mana storm, not sharp or aggressive, but ancient, sedimented with time, layered like dust that had never been disturbed.
The plains gave way to a biome unlike anything Samuel had crossed before.
Stone no longer jutted from the earth in broken spires; instead, massive terraces of dark mineral stretched outward in uneven shelves, as though some primordial ocean had once receded and left behind hardened waves of rock.
Between those shelves grew low vegetation—thick, deep-indigo moss that pulsed faintly underfoot when stepped on, releasing dim rings of light that faded seconds later.
Above, the sky shifted color as well.
It was not the clean blue of open land nor the bruised black of storms. It carried a faint violet undertone, subtle but present, as if mana in this region refracted light differently.
Even the wind moved strangely—long, low currents that did not gust but pressed steadily against the body, testing balance without appearing hostile.
Samuel walked through it with calm steps, feeling the pressure along his skin.
Then he felt it.
Not a sound.
Not movement.
Presence.
Ahead, at the crest of a wide mineral ridge, something stood.
Tall.
Broad.
Still.
Samuel didn't slow down.
As he reached the ridge's incline, the figure became clearer—a creature easily four meters in height, built not like a beast but like a war statue carved from obsidian and bone.
Its skin—or armor—reflected faint violet light, layered in overlapping plates that shifted subtly as it breathed. Two long arms ended not in claws but in elongated, blade-like extensions, curved and polished as if honed deliberately.
Its head lacked visible eyes — Yet it was looking directly at him.
They stood twenty meters apart.
Neither moved.
Wind passed between them.
Then the creature stepped forward.
The ground cracked.
Samuel exhaled once.
"Alright."
It crossed the distance in a blink.
One moment stillness—the next, a vertical slash aimed at his torso, fast enough to split stone.
Samuel pivoted, the blade grazing his side with a shriek of friction rather than penetration. Sparks of compressed mana scattered outward. He countered with a straight punch into the creature's midsection.
Impact.
The ridge beneath them fractured.
The creature did not fall.
It slid back half a meter and adjusted its stance.
Samuel's knuckles tingled.
"…Good."
The second exchange came faster.
The creature's blades moved in fluid arcs, not wild but precise, carving through air with disciplined intent. Samuel met them head-on, forearms reinforced, shoulders rolling with each deflection. Each collision rang like steel striking steel, shockwaves rippling outward in concentric bursts.
Minutes passed.
Then longer.
Neither gained ground.
Samuel adapted, altering angles, targeting joints between plates, striking with elbows, knees, the heel of his palm, compressing mana into short-range detonations. The creature responded in kind, shifting its structure subtly, plates tightening around impact zones, its blade-arms adjusting curvature mid-swing.
[Body hardening process: 10.2% → 10.4%]
Samuel ducked beneath a horizontal slash and drove his shoulder into the creature's chest, lifting it momentarily before slamming it into the mineral shelf behind. The shelf shattered, debris cascading down the slope.
The creature rose immediately.
Unharmed.
A blade pierced through Samuel's upper arm on the next pass—not deeply, but enough to anchor. It twisted.
He responded by grabbing the embedded edge and pulling the creature closer rather than retreating, smashing his forehead into where a face might have been.
The shockwave rippled outward.
They separated again.
Breathing heavier now.
Not exhausted.
But engaged.
Time stretched. The violet sky darkened slightly as if hours had slipped by unnoticed. Moss beneath their feet glowed brighter from repeated impacts. Entire sections of the ridge collapsed under accumulated force.
Samuel's ribs ached faintly—regeneration keeping pace but thanks to his S-Rank skill did he not feel any weaker.
The creature's armor showed hairline fractures across several plates.
They paused once more, fifteen meters apart now.
Wind pressed between them.
Neither limped.
Neither faltered.
Samuel rolled his neck slowly.
A thin smile touched his lips.
"…Guess we're even."
The creature tilted its head a fraction.
Then, without warning, it stepped backward—once, twice—and turned, vanishing down the far side of the ridge in a controlled retreat rather than a rout.
Samuel didn't chase.
He stood there a moment longer, watching the empty horizon, feeling the lingering vibration in his bones.
"No winner," he murmured.
He flexed his fingers, testing the density in his skin.
[Body hardening process: 10.6 —> 12.0%]
[Sixth sense (C) leveled up! Level 3/30 → 5/30]
[Strong Wind Resistance (B) leveled up! Level 43/50 → 44/50]
[Dual elemental resistance Fire and Earth (A) leveled up! Level 45/60 → 46/60]
[Requirments reached: Intimidating Aura (C) skill levels up! 29/30 → 30/30]
———
Requirments for Advencment towards Rank B:
• Fuse with one skill
———