The Calm Before the Storm

Time had no true meaning inside the SoulRealm, yet for Fenix and his team, a month had passed since their first day in Avalon. It had been a period of relentless training, exhausting hunts, and gradual growth.

Each morning, they would wake up at sunrise, have a quick meal together, and then head straight for their assigned hunting grounds. By now, their routine had become second nature—each movement, each strike, each moment of caution and aggression was executed with increasing efficiency.

For Fenix, the past month had been an eye-opening experience.

At first, he had struggled, barely able to land proper hits, relying more on his instincts than any real technique. But day after day, kill after kill, he had adapted. His muscles moved more naturally, his grip on his weapon felt more controlled, and his reactions had sharpened to a point where he could sense an attack before it fully formed.

His SoulCore was steadily filling up—he was now at [150/300] Soul Shards. It wasn't enough to advance yet, but he was far stronger than when he first arrived in Avalon.

The same could be said for his teammates.

Sylis had refined her water manipulation. She could now summon thin blades of water so sharp they cut through stone.

Irel had become a solid tank, capable of withstanding direct attacks from large monsters and shrugging off damage that would have killed them before.

Elias had improved his precision—his enhanced swordplay now allowed him to strike weak points effortlessly.

Rika had refined her healing, making it faster and more effective, ensuring that they could fight longer without the risk of severe injury.

Their teamwork had grown stronger too. They no longer needed to communicate much—their bodies reacted instinctively to each other's movements.

They had become a unit, but deep inside, Fenix felt restless.

The hunting itself had become easier.

At the beginning, a single Tier I beast had been a struggle for Fenix to kill alone. Now, he could take down five or six without exhausting himself.

Each kill granted him two Soul Shards, and while the increase was slow, it was consistent.

But the fights were becoming monotonous. He wanted more. Something inside him ached for something greater, though he didn't know what.

One thing that helped was his sword—Ashfang.

At first, it had felt like a simple weapon, but as he continued to use it, he realized it had more to offer.

Its edge never dulled, no matter how many monsters he cut down.

It had a unique weight, perfectly balanced for both offense and defense.

And sometimes, when he swung, it felt as if the blade moved before he did, guiding his strikes.

He knew that Ashfang wasn't just an uncommon-ranked weapon. It had something hidden within it, and he was determined to figure out what.

For now, though, all he could do was continue using it and learning.

That afternoon, as they entered their hunting grounds, something felt wrong.

The usual sounds of nature were gone.

There were no howls from distant predators, no rustling from hidden creatures, no insects buzzing in the air.

It was just... silent.

The first to notice was Elias.

"There should be monsters here," he murmured, gripping his sword hilt. "It's too quiet."

Irel, standing at the front, frowned.

"You guys feel that?"

Fenix did feel it. It was as if the forest itself was holding its breath.

"Something's off," Sylis added, her eyes scanning the treetops. "This isn't normal."

Rika tried to reason with them.

"Maybe we cleared too many creatures, and they're staying away."

Fenix wasn't convinced.

His instincts screamed at him that this wasn't just a case of monsters avoiding them.

Still, they had come here to hunt.

Turning back now would be pointless.

"Let's just be careful," he said. "We'll finish up and return before nightfall."

The others nodded, but the unease never left.

The sun had begun to set when it happened.

They had just finished slaying their twentieth creature, a group of shadow-furred wolves, when the ground began to shake.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

A massive shadow emerged from the treeline.

Fenix's entire body froze.

He recognized that sound.

When the creature finally stepped into full view, his blood ran cold.

Standing at eight meters tall, covered in thick brown fur, was a Yeti.

Not just any monster.

It was the same kind of beast that had guarded the chain leading to Dark Mountain in his Soul Trial.

His breathing hitched.

The pure, overwhelming power of the white-furred version he had faced before… it had been terrifying.

And now, here it was again.

"...That's a Tier III beast," Irel whispered, gripping his shield tightly.

The team had never fought anything above Tier I before.

For the first time in weeks, they weren't the hunters anymore.

They were prey.

The Yeti sniffed the air, its golden eyes locking onto them.

Then, it roared.

The sound was deafening.

Birds scattered from the treetops, the trees shook violently, and a wave of pressure hit them all like a storm of pure fear.

Fenix felt his heart hammering in his chest.

It had seen them.

And it wasn't going to let them go.

"...We need a plan," Sylis muttered, voice tense.

The Yeti took a step forward, crushing a boulder beneath its foot.

Its massive claws flexed, ready to tear them apart.

A deep, primal fear clawed at Fenix's gut.

They had two options.

Run… or fight.