In the Alley

Huff… Huff… Huff…

Heavy breaths echoed intermittently in the dark alleyway.

A lone man stood concealed in the shadows, cursing his mistake—he had run into a dead end.

He remained motionless, trying to suppress his presence.

But alas, he was too weak to pull off such a feat.

"It's cute that you think you can hide from me," a figure clad in dark attire sneered. With a bitter, disgusted tone, he added, "This game of cat and mouse ends here. Just die already."

Four brown magic circles materialized behind him, mid-sized earth spikes slowly emerging from them.

One of the spikes shot toward the corner where the hiding man stood, striking the ground just inches in front of him with a sharp echo.

"Oh… I missed," the assailant said playfully. "I've dragged this out long enough. Time to end it…"

As he prepared to launch another attack, Jules—the young man in hiding—felt his thoughts race.

'Damn this! Damn this!' he cursed internally.

'How did I even get here? I just needed quick cash! They said it was a simple hunt—how did it turn into this?!'

Unfortunately for Jules, he realized too late that the money he sought wouldn't come easy.

'I'm low on mana. I can't cast anything strong enough to overpower him. I can't talk my way out of this—he'll kill me the moment he sees me. And I can't run any further; I'm already trapped.'

Gbam–!

Another earth spike shot toward him, grazing his calf. The pain seared through his leg, but he resisted the urge to stumble and clutch the wound. If he moved too much, he'd expose his head—an easy kill for his attacker.

'Shit!' Jules cursed.

As he struggled with his predicament, something else gnawed at his mind—a task forced upon him by the leader of his hunting party. After their hunt was complete, a group of dark-clad individuals ambushed them, throwing everything into chaos.

If his assailant knew about the task he carried, Jules would have been dead long ago.

He stole a glance at a glass bottle hidden inside his jacket.

Inside, a glowing yellow liquid swirled, with white rings dancing within.

Jules' mouth watered involuntarily. He felt an unnatural pull toward the liquid, as though it was calling out to him.

No, it was definitely calling to him.

Ever since he received it, the drink had clawed at his mind, constantly drawing his attention, clouding his thoughts. His mistake—turning into this dead-end alley—was caused by its influence.

With a heavy gulp, Jules made a decision.

Initially, he had refused to drink it. Not only was it not his, but he also had no idea what it would do.

An unknown variable could leave him vulnerable while his enemy closed in, making him easy prey.

But now, looking at the situation, a bitter smile formed on his lips.

'I'd rather no one have this than die and let that bastard take it! If I figure out its effects before I die, I might even create an opening to escape. I won't give up till the very end!'

Uncorking the bottle, Jules chugged the liquid down.

Hiieek–!

A sweet yet bitter taste filled his mouth, slithering as though it had a mind of its own.

As it traveled down his throat, something changed—it no longer felt like a liquid. No, Jules could still sense it within him, but it had transformed into something… indescribable.

Then, heat erupted within his body.

The sudden surge forced Jules to double over, exposing himself to his assailant.

"Oh, hello there." The black-clad figure, who had been steadily advancing, smirked upon seeing him.

With a wave of his hand, another earth spike shot forward.

Jules barely reacted—his body still wracked by the aftereffects of the drink.

The spike impaled his side.

Splat–

Blood poured from Jules' mouth as he collapsed to his knees, soaking in the crimson pooling beneath him from both the fresh wound and the smaller injuries he had sustained earlier.

His head pounded. His vision blurred.

Whether it was the drink's effect or blood loss, he couldn't tell.

'Shit…'

He looked up at his attacker, the man peering down at him with a cold gaze.

"You were unlucky to have any ties to the Ravens, even if it was just for a few hours. You've stumbled upon things beyond your understanding. Greet the gods for me."

The final spike shot toward Jules' head—his death was certain.

But alas, Jules was no longer the same man he had been moments ago.

The effects of the potion had begun to manifest.

All his prior wounds—except the spike impalement—healed in mere seconds.

Even the hole in his side was closing, albeit slowly. The spike itself was hindering the regeneration, but the change was undeniable.

Jules also felt… invigorated.

As the spike neared, Jules instinctively cast a tier two Barrier, thicker than usual.

The spike shattered the barrier with ease—but it bought Jules a fraction of a second. He used it to step back, letting the attack slam into the bloodied ground instead.

Jules had always been talented, a prodigy in the making. But his frail body and abnormally small mana core had kept him shackled to weak spells and low-tier equipment.

Now, however, everything was different.

As the overwhelming heat within him finally settled, he became aware of his state—his mana reserves, his physical strength, his speed, his stamina.

All of it had surged beyond their usual limits.

Having retreated deeper into the alleyway, Jules steadied himself.

He gritted his teeth, yanked the spike from his side—more blood spilling out—and adjusted his light armor.

Then, he unsheathed his dagger.

'This power… it feels unreal…' Jules mused, tightening his grip.

Covering his wound with his free hand, he locked eyes with his attacker, who had now raised his guard.

"I didn't know you had any fight left in you," the assailant muttered, already forming magic circles and linking runes together.

Jules chuckled. "Yeah, me neither."

"You're like a cornered prey."

"Prey can be surprising too. Even I don't know the extent of what I can do right now."

"Tsk." The assailant clicked his tongue, scrutinizing Jules, an eerie sense of abnormality creeping over him. "At least you'll make this a challenge now. Show me what a D-rank can do."

'No… I'll show you what a D-rank buffed by a weird drink can do.'

Rounds of low-tier earth spells shot toward Jules.

He countered with stacked barriers. The first shattered instantly, but he was already moving.

Weaving between attacks, he darted around the side, closing the distance.

His unpredictable movement threw the assailant off.

'W-What?! His wounds are healed, and his mana suddenly increased… What the hell did he do? Was it something from when he was hiding…?' The assailant gritted his teeth, preparing more spells.

Jules had no intention of dragging this fight out. He needed to end it before the potion's effects wore off.

He had planned to keep pressuring his opponent until he found an opening to escape.

But then—

A voice, one unlike anything he had ever heard, echoed in his mind.

[Unique Skill "Seraphim of War" can be acquired.]

[Do you wish to acquire the skill?]

Jules' lips curled into a delighted grin.

'My, oh my… Seems like the heavens want me to live after all!'

The dimly lit alley flickered with an unnatural glow.

The water puddles remained still, the stench of blood hung in the air.

Then—Jules' body began to shine.

His assailant instinctively stepped back.

The moment Jules answered yes to Vyrid—the entity behind the voice—a new surge of heat flooded his veins.

His mana core, nestled beneath his chest, blazed with radiant yellow light.

A newfound clarity washed over him

'Now I see… This is why everyone was after that drink. It bestows abilities!'

[Unique Skill "Seraphim of War" is being created…]

Jules didn't wait.

Even as the skill formed, he reached out with his mana, forging a connection—eager to wield its power.