Slayers

—Cling!

Luckily for Guilliman, he was able to turn over and stop the attack as soon as his back hit the floor, but at the same time, it placed him in a very bad situation.

He was on the ground, with a monster much stronger than him trying to cut his throat.

'This is bad, this is bad!!'

He complained silently, panic surging through his mind. Was he about to die? All the hard work from his previous life had made him cocky. Had he truly thought the sanctuaries would be a walk in the park?

This place was one of the most vicious in the universe. He had heard of it from his parents and in folk tales told to children in his clan. It was a place of survival and death.

There was no victory in the sanctuaries.

'I can't die now… not before I get back what's mine!!' Guilliman held back the descending blade of the Black Rabbit Knight with all his might. His eyes soon turned a bright shade of blue as his soul began to ignite.

"Heavy soul brill—"

Just as he was about to squeeze the words out, a shadow suddenly breezed past him. In an instant, the shadow picked up the Black Rabbit Knight and slammed it into a tree right next to Guilliman.

"Hurry! Kill it!!"

A loud voice echoed as a bulky youth in heavy armor barked at Guilliman.

Berthold.

He had seen Guilliman fighting from afar and had rushed forward to help. However, he hadn't expected the creature Guilliman was facing to be this strong. Despite his heavy body and armor, Berthold struggled to hold it off.

"Hm!!" Guilliman's eyes dimmed as he rose to his feet and thrust his sword directly at the Black Rabbit Knight's head.

[—Ding

Ordinary Black-Rabbit Knight Slain.

Awarding gene points: +180

Updating stats:

Name: Guilliman

Rank: Level 1

Gene: 188/200

Class: Soul King

Affinity: Wind, Ice, Arcane

Agility: 15 Power: 20 Stamina: 25]

Guilliman fell on his back, feeling a rush of relief overwhelm him. He had won!

He had come so close to death just now. Who would have thought that he wouldn't be able to handle such a task?

This place was more than it seemed.

"You good?" Berthold's voice rang out as he approached and took a knee beside Guilliman.

The kid was drenched in sweat and blood. That must have been an incredibly tough battle. Berthold couldn't imagine the amount of bad luck it would take to encounter such a strong beast in this sector.

What he didn't know was that Guilliman had gone looking for trouble himself.

"Ahh, yes, I'm okay." Guilliman stretched his hand forward, using Berthold as leverage to lift himself up.

"Thank you," Guilliman nodded at Berthold, appreciating his help. However, in the next second, he walked off and crouched beside the Black Rabbit Knight's body to inspect it.

'Knight, huh.'

He mused as he examined the corpse. Even after all that had just happened, this wasn't the real deal. This was merely a crony of the actual Black Rabbit King.

Instead of feeling annoyed, he felt relieved. If he had angered the real Black Rabbit King, he might be dead by now.

[Beast Echo Found: Rabbit Braces (Ordinary)]

• Type: Utility

• Agility: +40

• Wind Affinity: +12

• Attack: 0

• Special Effect: With Rabbit Braces, the user can double jump to significantly high altitudes depending on the force applied. [Cooldown: 2 seconds]

"Ah, lucky," Guilliman murmured with a smile as he stood up. Walking back to where he had fallen, he picked up his second blade from the ground and returned to the rabbit's body.

"Give me two minutes, then we'll go hunt some more Black Rabbits," he said matter-of-factly before beginning to work on the corpse.

Pleasantries were not his strong suit. Berthold had not only helped him kill this thing, but he had also saved his life. The least Guilliman could do in return was help Berthold become a Slayer.

At the Gate of the Sector

"Hm, good. That's less than half," the lady with bronze hair said with a nod, watching the group of participants return.

Thirty-six people had entered the sector for the test, and now only eleven remained. Of course, this wasn't the final count—it was just the number who finished on time.

"We'll wait a bit longer for the rest," the bronze-haired Slayer remarked, glancing back toward the forest. For anyone competent enough, coming out alive should be easy.

But deaths weren't uncommon. In fact, there had been several deaths every week. It was simply part of becoming a Slayer.

To her surprise, however, the death toll this time was lower than expected. More participants were emerging by the minute.

Soon, the count reached eighteen.

"Hm, these deaths are within an acceptable range," she muttered. After about thirty more minutes, she nodded. They would still send a team to check what had happened to the others and, if necessary, retrieve their bodies.

'Still, it's quite embarrassing,' she thought. This sector had been overused, and the population of Black Blade Rabbits here had declined significantly. Soon, the area would be bulldozed and replaced with housing units.

Dying in such a dilapidated place was, indeed, embarrassing.

"Okay, come forward. Let me verify who passed," she announced, without any concern for the fact that more than half the participants hadn't returned.

Simply surviving didn't mean one had become a Slayer. Killing a beast, no matter how small, was incredibly hard—even with extensive training.

More often than not, when someone in a group became a Slayer, they grew greedy, taking the rest of the kills for themselves. This boosted their overall strength while leaving their comrades in the dust. Such had been the case with Noland from Guilliman's team—and many others.

Even from here, the bronze-haired Slayer could tell that a good number of the participants hadn't killed a single beast. Black Blade Rabbits were not only dangerous but also insanely fast and elusive.

It was still a challenge to kill one as a non-Slayer.

"Better luck next time," she said to one participant, checking their stats before moving on to the next. There was no guaranteed path to power in this test.

Some people were cut out to be Slayers, and some weren't. It was all a matter of luck and competence.

Among the participants, she found a few who had succeeded—most notably those from high-grade training schools.

These individuals were better prepared than the others, having studied the sectors and beasts beforehand.

"You are now a Slayer," she said with a faint smile, handing a metallic card to a nerdy-looking boy with black hair. Her eyes shifted, as if searching for someone.

"Thank you, Senior Slayer," the boy said in a gratingly proud voice, wrapping an arm around a young girl next to him.

Unlike the others, he had taken all the Black Blade Rabbits his team had caught, ensuring he alone reaped the rewards.

"Heheh," the Slayer mused.

Many from top training centers were like this—arrogant and greedy. The boy had gone in with four people and returned with only one girl, who hadn't even succeeded herself.

Clearly, he had hoarded all the spoils for himself.

Noland smiled smugly as he walked toward the gate, his face alight with glee. So what if his potential was rated D+? Hadn't he passed the test with ease?

As he neared the gate, a surprised voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Oh? There are two more?"

He paused and turned slowly.

Two figures stood before the test administrator. One was a gigantic youth clad in heavy armor, exuding an oppressive aura.

But it was the smaller figure beside him that drew everyone's attention.

A much smaller youth in ragged clothing, with twin blades strapped to his back, stood drenched in blood.

Blood that clearly wasn't his.