Jack did not linger in the valley.
The structures stood where he had placed them, the Citadel anchoring the land, the Cathedral shaping what existed within it, and the Enforcer Station extending his reach beyond what a single person could maintain. The automatons moved along the outer edges in steady, controlled paths, their patrol routes overlapping just enough to ensure that nothing would cross the boundary without being met.
It was stable.
Not permanently.
But enough.
Jack stood near the center for a moment longer, his attention moving across the territory one last time, not searching for flaws, but confirming what he already knew. The system responded cleanly to his presence here. The Cathedral smoothed out the strain that still lingered in his body from the dungeon, and the underlying hum of the Citadel remained constant, grounding everything into something that felt deliberate rather than temporary.
He stepped into the Cathedral briefly.
Not to rest.
To confirm.
The space inside carried that same quiet alignment, the effect settling into him gradually rather than forcing itself forward. His breathing slowed, his stamina recovering at a rate that made extended recovery here viable without wasting time.
Thirty minutes would matter.
Longer would matter more.
Jack let the effect settle just enough to confirm it, then stepped back out.
There was no reason to wait longer.
Recovery only mattered if there was something to recover for.
He opened his status as he moved, not stopping to study it in detail, but confirming what had changed since the dungeon.
[STATUS]
Name: Jack Reed
Level: 17
Race: Human (F-Grade)
Class: Bloodborne Warrior (F-Grade)
Profession: First Principle City Lord (F-Grade)
Health: Stable
Stamina: Recovering
Energy: Stable
Free Attribute Points: 0
The numbers didn’t need much attention. The last allocation had already balanced him well enough for what came next. Vitality had kept him alive through sustained pressure, Endurance had begun to matter more with repeated skill use, and Strength remained sufficient for clean kills when he placed his strikes correctly.
Nothing needed to change.
What mattered now was direction.
He let the status close as he stepped toward the edge of the territory, his awareness extending outward again through Blood Sense. The moment he crossed the boundary, the difference returned immediately. The stability of the Citadel fell away behind him, replaced by the uneven pressure of the world beyond it.
It didn’t slow him.
It didn’t matter.
Not anymore.
Now—
He had somewhere to return to.
That changed everything.
Jack adjusted his grip on the scythe as he moved forward, his pace steady, not rushed but without hesitation. The direction was already set before he had taken the first step.
The farm.
The land he had grown up on was not far enough away to justify delay. If anything had happened, if the system’s integration had disrupted things the way it had everywhere else, then time would not make it better.
It would only make it worse.
His awareness spread ahead of him in controlled layers, not searching blindly, but filtering what mattered from what didn’t. The signals he picked up were scattered, inconsistent, most of them faint enough to ignore entirely.
Monsters.
Low-level.
Uncoordinated.
He did not engage.
There was no reason to waste time on fights that did not contribute to his objective. That was the difference now. Before, every encounter had been a test, something he had to push through to survive or grow. Now, he could choose.
And he chose to move.
The terrain shifted gradually as he traveled, the open stretch beyond the valley giving way to more defined ground, the remnants of roads and pathways beginning to appear beneath the damage left behind by the system’s arrival. Cracked asphalt, broken lines, debris scattered in patterns that suggested sudden disruption rather than long-term decay.
Vehicles stood abandoned at odd angles, some partially off the road, others stopped in place as if their drivers had simply… left.
Jack did not stop to examine them.
The absence told him enough.
No bodies.
No signs of drawn-out struggle.
Just interruption.
He continued forward.
A faint signal crossed his awareness briefly, stronger than the others, moving across his path at an angle that would intersect if he didn’t adjust. Jack shifted slightly, not to avoid it, but to control the encounter.
The creature came into view a few seconds later.
Low-level.
Unstable movement.
“Identify.”
[Feral Striker — Lv.8]
Type: Predator
Traits: Aggressive, low coordination
It reacted the moment it saw him, lunging forward without hesitation.
Jack stepped into it.
Sanguine Surge activated.
The shift was clean, controlled, the upgraded skill responding without the sharp strain it had carried before. His perception tightened, his movement aligning with the incoming attack as the scythe moved in a smooth, deliberate arc.
The blade cut low.
The rear joint failed instantly.
The creature collapsed mid-lunge.
Jack didn’t stop.
He stepped through the motion and finished it with a single follow-up, the fight ending before it could develop into anything more.
[You have defeated: Feral Striker (Lv.8)]
[Experience Gained]
He let Sanguine Surge fade immediately.
No reason to maintain it.
No reason to push further.
Jack continued forward without looking back, his awareness already shifting ahead again.
The encounter hadn’t slowed him.
It hadn’t changed anything.
That was the difference.
The further he moved, the more familiar the terrain became, not because it had remained unchanged, but because he recognized the shape of it beneath the damage. The lines of the land, the spacing of trees, the gradual slope that led toward the farmland region—those hadn’t disappeared.
They had just been disrupted.
He adjusted his path slightly as he moved, not needing a clear road to guide him. Memory filled in the gaps where the world had broken apart, aligning his direction without forcing him to stop and reconsider.
The farm was close now.
Close enough that the absence of anything familiar began to stand out more clearly than the presence of what remained.
There should have been movement.
There should have been signs.
There weren’t.
Jack slowed slightly.
Not hesitation.
Focus.
His awareness extended further this time, pushing Blood Sense deeper into the area ahead, searching for anything that matched what he was looking for.
Nothing.
Not yet.
He exhaled slowly, the tension settling into something sharper, more defined.
If they were here—
He would find them.
If they weren’t—
He would know soon enough.
Jack continued forward.