While walking, he called up his runes.
Name: Orren Veil True Name: — Rank: Aspirant.
Soul Core: Dormant.
Memories: Ironscale Fang, Tyrant’s Shell, Vigil, Hunter’s Token Echoes: [Venomhide Tyrant].
Attributes: [Unanchored], [Mark of Divinity], [Mist-Touched].
Aspect: [Wayfarer].
Aspect Description: [You walk paths others fail to notice.
Where direction falters and certainty fades, your steps remain strangely correct.
The world does not guide you, yet it allows you to proceed where others would become lost.] He focused on the Memories one by one, and their descriptions unfolded in his mind.
Memory: [Tyrant’s Shell].
Memory Rank: Awakened.
Memory Type: Armor.
Memory Description: [Armor forged from the scales and hardened hide of a Venomhide Tyrant.
Its dark surface possesses a rough, stone-like texture, yet remains surprisingly light and flexible.
The armor clings tightly to the wearer’s body, resembling the hide of some predatory reptile more than forged steel.] Memory: [Vigil].
Memory Rank: Awakened.
Memory Type: Weapon.
Memory Description: [A worn longsword recovered from the remains of a fallen knight.
Its blade is marked by age and countless battles, yet the steel has never tarnished.
A faded crest adorns the crossguard, while the grip remains wrapped in weathered black leather.
The sword carries the lingering resolve of its former master, who stood his ground until the very end.] Memory: [Hunter’s Token].
Memory Rank: Awakened.
Memory Type: Charm.
Memory Description: [A dark wooden token carved from the heartwood of an ancient tree.
One side bears the image of a stalking beast, while the other is marked by dozens of tiny claw marks.
Despite its age, the wood remains pristine and untouched by decay.] ‘The drop rate of Memories isn’t great, but the ones I did get are truly useful.
I can’t really complain.’ He paused slightly as another thought surfaced.
‘The problem is I still can’t properly see their enchantments.
I can only guess.’ After a moment of consideration, he added inwardly.
‘If I had to guess, Hunter’s Token probably enhances perception.
Every time I use it, my senses become noticeably sharper.’ During combat, he always had all three Memories active.
As long as the opponent was only an Awakened beast, he would attempt to handle it alone first, only calling the Echo when things became dangerous.
That pattern continued for the following week.
Hunt after hunt.
Fight after fight.
And just like that, the week passed.
The knights who were supposed to arrive still had not shown up.
Orren had already finished his hunting for the day and was now walking back to his hut when the thought resurfaced again.
He had expected to awaken before leaving this town.
That expectation was becoming harder to maintain with each passing day.
‘The torrent of essence is already rushing through my veins like a tide.
From what I understand, this should be enough to form a core… so why isn’t it happening yet?’ He frowned slightly as he walked.
‘Am I doing something wrong?
Don’t tell me I actually need to kill an Awakened Tyrant like Rain did… hahahaha.’ The thought made him chuckle, but the amusement faded quickly.
“…I just jinxed myself, didn’t I?” He exhaled slowly, still no closer to an answer.
The process that should have been straightforward refused to complete, and despite all his progress, the final step remained unclear.
Just as he neared the town gate, loud noises echoed through the streets.
At first it sounded like distant shouting, but within seconds it grew into full panic.
Orren quickened his pace and rushed into the town.
What he saw was chaos.
People were running in every direction, some screaming, others dragging their families into their homes and slamming doors shut behind them.
The usual order of the settlement had collapsed in an instant, replaced by fear spreading faster than any fire.
He grabbed one of the guards who was trying to direct civilians away from the streets.
“Hey, what’s happening?
Why is everyone running like this?” The guard barely looked at him before answering in a hurry.
“Huh?
Oh…
there’s a monster horde attacking the gate on the other side.
Captain Zane is holding them off with the other guards.” Without waiting for a response, the guard pulled away and continued helping civilians.
Orren stood still for a moment.
Then he turned in the direction of the front gate, already preparing to move.
He had barely taken a step when something made him stop.
A cold shiver ran down his spine.
Instinct.
It wasn’t fear in the normal sense, but something deeper, sharper.
The kind of feeling that had saved his life too many times over the past months to ignore.
He slowly turned his head.
The gate behind him, the one he had just entered through, looked normal at first glance.
But he didn’t trust that.
Not anymore.
Months of hunting had refined his instincts into something brutally reliable.
If his body reacted like this, then something was wrong, whether he could see it or not.
Without hesitation, he summoned his memories.
The transformation was almost automatic by now.
Dark armor materialized over his body, fitting tightly against him like a second skin.
The longsword appeared in his right hand, and Hunter’s Token hung at his waist.
Every sense he had sharpened instantly, the charm amplifying his awareness to its limit.
And still…
It wasn’t enough.
His instincts were screaming at him to run.
Instead, he forced himself to look.
About fifty meters away, space itself began to distort.
A rift was forming.
‘A… Gate?’ His eyes widened slightly.
“FUCK MY LIFE.
Why can’t anything ever go smoothly?” The curse escaped him before he could stop it.
At the same time, he summoned his Echo.
The massive Venomhide Tyrant appeared beside him, its scaled body coiling low as it took in the surroundings like a predator waking into a new hunt.
Most of the capable fighters had already left the town to enlist in the army.
The few who remained were currently occupied at the front gate, fighting the horde that had appeared there.
None of them had any idea that a second catastrophe was forming behind their backs.
Orren’s mind raced.
‘No idea when they’ll finish at the front… let’s just hope this is a Category 1 gate.’ Then another thought struck him, sharper and more panicked than the rest.
“Wasn’t it something like… Nightmares are trials, not executions?” His gaze locked onto the forming rift.
“THEN WHAT THE HELL WENT WRONG WITH MINE?!” There was no time for an answer.
He forced his breathing steady, pushing down the rising panic.
‘I’ll take down as many as I can and retreat the moment things go wrong.’ He glanced at his Echo.
“Alright, Draco,” he said, voice tight but controlled.
“Let’s butcher whatever comes out of there.” Without waiting, he crushed the soul shards from his recent hunts.
He didn’t have time for proper meditation, but even the smallest amount of essence mattered now.
By the time the rift fully stabilized, shapes had already begun to emerge.
The first creatures crawled out slowly.
At a glance, they looked like thin reptilian beings covered in reeds and marsh grass.
But as Orren focused, he realized the truth was far worse.
The reeds weren’t attached to them.
They were growing out of them.
Their flesh was split in dozens of places, black roots and pale stalks forcing their way through living tissue as if the creatures themselves were being consumed from within.
‘This is the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen.’ And that was saying something, given everything he had encountered in the past six months.
He tightened his grip on his sword.
“Alright.
Don’t get hit as much as possible.” Even with all his Memories and experience, his body was still fundamentally human.
No soul core.
No real transcendence.
Just a mortal pushing himself to the edge of what preparation could achieve.
“Be quick, Draco.” At his command, the Echo surged forward.
The battlefield exploded into motion.
Orren moved with precise, efficient strikes, targeting the weak points he could see…
open flesh, exposed roots, split seams in their bodies.
His blade thrust and cut with practiced rhythm, each kill clean and deliberate.
[You have slain a dormant beast, Hollow-Reed Stalker.] The Echo was faster.
Each strike from the Venomhide Tyrant was devastating, ripping through multiple creatures at once, its massive body carving through the swarm without hesitation.
[You have slain a dormant beast, Hollow-Reed Stalker.] [You have slain a dormant beast, Hollow-Reed Stalker.] [You have slain a dormant beast, Hollow-Reed Stalker.] [You have slain a dormant beast…] [You have slain a dormant…] [You have slain a…] [You have slain…] More kept coming.
This was only the first wave and there were far too many of them.
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