The boss clearing was quiet now.
Broken roots and shattered wood lay scattered across the ground. The massive corpse of the Evolved Tyrant Tree rested like a fallen giant, its green glow completely extinguished. The fog had thinned further, allowing weak afternoon light to filter through the canopy above.
Ren stood still for several seconds, breathing steadily as he tried to extend his senses outward.
Perfect Targeting remained locked until midnight. Without it, the world felt narrower. He could no longer detect the two spies who had been watching them. Their presence had completely vanished from his awareness.
A cold certainty settled in his chest.
They had seen everything.
The way he had taken out the AK-47. The roar of gunfire. The way the C-rank Evolved Tyrant Tree had finally fallen under sustained modern firepower. There was no longer any point in pretending. The spies had almost certainly confirmed their identity during that fight.
Ren exhaled slowly and opened the system interface.
Blue light unfolded before his eyes.
**[Status]**
Name: Ren Viren
Level: 22
He noticed something new.
At Level 20, a skill he had not checked earlier had been unlocked.
**[New Skill Acquired – Weapon Mastery]**
Effect: The Host can achieve complete mastery over any weapon purchased or crafted through the system.
Once mastery is gained, the Host will wield that weapon as if it has been trained for years.
Proficiency includes handling, reloading, accuracy, maintenance, and combat application under stress.
Ren’s eyes narrowed slightly with interest. This skill would become extremely useful in the future, especially as stronger firearms and eventually heavier weapons became available. He closed the window for now. There were more immediate concerns.
Far from the clearing, near the outer edge of the dungeon, Silvia stood beneath the shadow of a large tree. Her expression was calm, but her mind was turning rapidly.
She reached into her cloak and took out a small, beautifully crafted stone. It was smooth, deep violet in color, and faintly translucent, with tiny silver runes etched across its surface. This was a **One-Voice Stone** — a rare communication tool that could store only a single message. Once the message was recorded, the stone could be crushed by the recipient to release the voice, after which it would turn to dust. It could be used only once.
Silvia poured a thread of her mana into the stone and began speaking in a clear, measured voice.
“This is Silvia of the Obsidian Veil.
We have confirmed with high probability that the targets are the silver-haired wolf beastwoman and the adventurer known as Ren.
During the battle against the C-rank Evolved Tyrant Tree inside the Hollowroot Domain, the male target used an unknown weapon. It resembles a strange metallic stick or short staff. When activated, it produces extremely loud continuous noise and launches invisible or extremely high-speed projectiles capable of dealing severe damage from a long distance. The weapon does not appear to use mana in any conventional way. It allowed him to kill a C-rank Tyrant Tree that most parties of similar level would struggle against.
Their combat coordination and the man’s unfamiliar weapon technology make them highly dangerous.
I request further orders regarding how we should proceed. Should we capture, eliminate, or continue observation?
Awaiting instructions.”
The stone pulsed once, sealing the message.
Silvia turned and held it out to Alex.
“Leave for the capital immediately. Deliver this yourself. Do not stop unless absolutely necessary. From this point on, I will continue observation alone.”
Alex accepted the stone carefully, his face serious.
“Understood.”
Without another word, he turned and began moving rapidly through the forest, heading back toward the town and the long road to the capital.
Ren and Lyra did not linger in the boss area.
After confirming there were no more immediate threats, they collected the last of the scattered materials and left the Hollowroot Domain. The walk back through the forest was quiet. Both of them were still carrying minor injuries and deep fatigue from the prolonged battle.
By the time they returned to the town, the sun was already beginning to sink.
Their first stop was a local healer’s clinic. The treatment was straightforward. A middle-aged healing mage examined their wounds, applied several mid-grade recovery potions, and used light healing magic to close the deeper cuts and reduce the worst of the internal bruising. The total cost came to twenty gold coins. Within minutes, most of the pain had faded, though a lingering tiredness remained in their bodies.
Afterward, they returned to the inn.
They ordered a simple but filling meal downstairs — roasted meat, bread, and vegetable soup — and ate in relative silence. The weight of everything that had happened pressed down on both of them. Only after finishing did they head upstairs to their room.
Once inside, Ren locked the door and closed the curtains completely.
Lyra sat on the edge of the bed and removed her cloak. Her dyed hair still held most of its brown color, but faint traces of silver were beginning to show again near the roots.
Ren leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
“They know,” he said quietly.
Lyra looked up at him.
“The spies?”
“Yes. After I used the AK-47, there was no way to hide it anymore. That Dark Elf woman is Level 84. Even if she doesn’t understand what a gun is, she saw enough to confirm we are not ordinary adventurers. They almost certainly know who you are now.”
Lyra’s ears lowered slightly beneath her hair.
“So our cover is gone.”
“Most likely.”
Silence filled the room for several seconds.
Ren continued, “Running immediately might make us look more suspicious. For now, I think we should wait and watch. Let them make the next move. If more people appear or the situation changes, we will adapt. Until then, we stay cautious but do not panic.”
Lyra nodded slowly.
“Alright. We wait and watch.”
They did not speak much after that.
Night fell completely over the town. Outside their window, lanterns flickered along the streets. Inside the room, the two of them lay on the same bed, but neither found sleep easily. Ren stared at the ceiling for a long time, mind turning over possible futures — continued pursuit by the unknown organization called Obsidian Veil, the value of the new materials, the Weapon Mastery skill, and the still-unchosen paths of Modern Army Summoner and Territorial Commander.
Beside him, Lyra kept her eyes open in the dark, listening to the faint sounds of the town and the steady rhythm of Ren’s breathing.
Far across the town, on a quiet rooftop overlooking the inn, Silvia sat alone in the shadows.
Her violet eyes remained fixed on the building below.
She replayed the battle in her mind again and again — the strange metallic weapon, the deafening noise, the way the C-rank Evolved Tyrant Tree had been torn apart by invisible force. In all her decades of work for the Obsidian Veil, she had never seen anything like it.
What kind of weapon could kill from a distance without mana, without visible projectiles, and with such destructive speed?
And what kind of man wielded it so naturally?
Silvia rested her chin lightly on her hand, expression unreadable.
The night was long, and answers were still far away.
But one thing was already certain.
The report she had sent would change the way her superiors looked at these two targets forever.