Alphonse stood silently beside the carcass of the Dire Wolf whose neck he had just snapped. He waited for several minutes, his eyes locked onto the monster's body.
However, the phenomenon he anticipated never occurred. The wolf's body remained stiff, its blood seeping slowly into the earth, and no pixelated particles scattered into the wind.
One second passed, then ten. No pouch of gold magically materialized in the air. No loot notification informed him of acquired fangs or pelts.
"Even the looting system is gone," Alphonse murmured softly.
He stroked his chin in an analytical gesture. "This world has truly discarded all of the game's artificial elements."
He recalled one of the theories Arcus used to discuss with burning enthusiasm—about how, if a player were thrown into reality, certain systems might persist to aid their survival.
Yet to Alphonse, this reality felt far more raw and unforgiving.
Awoooo!
A long howl shattered the silence of the forest, followed by the sound of numerous footsteps crushing dry twigs. Alphonse turned toward the source of the noise. He did not look surprised.
"It seems the behavioral patterns of the monsters have carried over," Alphonse stated calmly. "When a Dire Wolf is cornered or dying, it will howl to summon its pack."
From the darkness of the thicket, the silhouettes of giant wolves emerged one by one. There were quite a few of them—twelve in total.
In the center of the formation stood a significantly larger wolf with dull silver fur lining its back. The Alpha leader.
Upon seeing their gruesomely murdered kin, the Alpha howled in fury. The twelve wolves immediately fanned out, forming a circular formation to encircle Alphonse.
Alphonse showed no sign of fear. Instead, the golden gleam in his eyes brightened. "Perfect timing. I need to test how the mechanics of magic operate in this world."
He focused his mind. He did not need to search for a skill menu or press a hotkey.
Instinctively, he felt the flow of mana stored within his body move toward his palms. The motion was as natural as wiggling his fingers.
A magic circle formed instantaneously before his hand.
[Tier C – Fire Blast]
A massive sphere of fire materialized, radiating a heat so tangible it caused the surrounding air to distort. With a single mental flick, the fireball shot directly into the center of the wolf pack.
BOOM!
A devastating explosion ensued. The earth was torn asunder alongside tongues of flame that licked in every direction.
The four wolves at the epicenter of the blast were blown to pieces, while the rest were sent flying, their bodies heavily scorched.
The Alpha leader was thrown several meters back, whimpering as the flames seared its flesh.
However, the remaining eight wolves did not die. Their burning bodies triggered a blind, feral instinct. They rose. They howled ferociously. They lunged at Alphonse simultaneously from all sides.
Alphonse did not panic. He did not retreat.
He raised his left hand.
[Tier C - Shadow Bind]
The shadows of the trees elongated, entangling the legs of the leading four wolves. Their charge was forcefully halted. Their jaws snapped at empty air.
Alphonse stepped forward. A translucent dagger materialized in his right hand.
[Tier C – Phantom Blade]
A horizontal slash. The first wolf's head was severed.
An upward thrust. The second wolf's heart was pierced.
His movements were precise. Efficient. Devoid of any wasted motion. Within seconds, the remaining eight wolves collapsed, bathed in their own blood upon the muddy ground.
Alphonse stared at his own hands in awe. "The execution of this magic is far smoother than I imagined. It feels like... an innate function of my own body."
The severely injured Alpha witnessed the massacre. Realizing that their prey was, in fact, a far more terrifying predator, it turned around and attempted to flee into the depths of the forest on a limping leg.
"Hey, it is impolite to leave without saying goodbye," Alphonse called out with a chillingly polite tone.
He attempted to invoke another spell. This time, he visualized a sharp gust of wind.
[Tier C - Aero Bullet]
However, the sensation was entirely different. The movement of mana within his body felt stiff and stuttered.
Alphonse was forced to pause momentarily to manually visualize the magic circle, assembling the runes one by one in his mind for the spell to take form.
The Alpha had already run quite a distance by the time the final rune locked into place.
Whoosh!
A transparent bullet of wind shot forth at blinding speed, cutting through the air before violently piercing the back of the Alpha Dire Wolf's head. The monster plummeted to the ground, dead on the spot.
Alphonse closed his eyes, analyzing the stark difference in sensation between the two attacks.
"I see," he muttered. "Spells that have reached Level 10 can be executed instantly, much like a primal instinct."
"Whereas spells stuck at Level 5... must be manually constructed through rune visualization. The process is nowhere near as seamless as a max-level spell," he mused.
He let out a short sigh. "Well, so be it. I rarely used Aero Bullet in the game anyway. I merely invested 5 skill points into it as a prerequisite to unlock higher-tier wind magic."
Alphonse walked toward the crater of his initial Fire Blast. He crouched, intending to retrieve the Monster Cores—the valuable energy stones located near the monsters' hearts.
However, his brow immediately furrowed.
The bodies of the four wolves had been incinerated to ash. As Alphonse sifted through the carbonized remains, he only found fragmented, reddish crystal shards, completely shattered by the exposure to extreme heat.
"Damn it," he cursed softly. He stood up and examined his hands.
"Raw power has proven to be a double-edged sword. In the game, the loot would remain intact regardless of my attack's destructive yield."
"But in reality... weapons of mass destruction will simultaneously annihilate the very economic commodities I seek."
As a guildmaster, his brain immediately began formulating new calculations.
If the inventory system was dead and large-scale magic destroyed resources, then Pioneer's forces would have to entirely overhaul their combat doctrine. Monster hunting was no longer about massive magical explosions; it was about surgical precision.
Alphonse moved over to the corpses of the wolves he had killed with physical strikes and the Aero Bullet. He dissected their chests using the Phantom Blade.
This time, he successfully extracted nine intact, marble-sized Monster Cores, along with one significantly larger, deep-red core from the Alpha.
"Without an inventory, skinning them will only encumber my movements," he muttered, staring at the valuable piles of meat and fur with a heavy heart.
He placed the ten Monster Cores into the small pouch at his waist.
[Tier F - Cleanse] A wave of white light swept over his body, eradicating the blood splatters and the metallic stench.
Alphonse intended to inspect the surrounding area, but his ears suddenly picked up a sound. His heightened senses detected a noise coming from the west—not the growl of a monster, but the rhythmic friction of iron boots brushing against tall grass.
The cadence was synchronized. Tactical. It was a human marching formation.
Did another player land nearby? Or are these natives of this world? Alphonse pondered.
Given that he had yet to fully comprehend this new world, confronting an unidentified armed group directly was not a wise move.
Leaving footprints in the dirt was equally foolish. He focused his mind, channeling his mana to cast a modified illusion spell.
[Tier C - Mirage]
A surge of mana enveloped him, bending the light around his entire body. Alphonse's silhouette, his black robes, and even the Stella Obscura floating beside him slowly faded.
His form transformed into a semi-transparent projection that blended flawlessly with the hues of the foliage and the shadows of the forest.
A second mental flick immediately followed.
[Tier B - Fly]
The bonds of Earth's gravity were instantly severed from his physical body. Without the sound of footsteps, the flapping of wings, or any suspicious vortex of wind, Alphonse's body lifted effortlessly from the ground.
He ascended smoothly and vertically, slipping through the gaps in the towering forest canopy. He flew off into the skies of the Eastern Forest like an invisible ghost, leaving the site of the massacre as an absolute enigma for whoever stumbled upon it.
Fifteen minutes after Alphonse's departure, the thick foliage on the western edge was forcefully pushed aside.
The tips of spears and steel swords pierced through the forest shadows, followed by the emergence of a dozen leather-armored soldiers moving in a tactical formation. They were the finest tracking squad Wealden City had to offer.
Their march halted instantly upon reaching the clearing. Their weapons remained drawn, but the soldiers' eyes widened at the sight before them.
The stench of charred flesh, scorched earth, and fresh blood assaulted their senses. More than a dozen Dire Wolf carcasses littered the muddy ground.
A young soldier lowered his dagger slightly, letting out an audible sigh of relief.
"It's just a pack of Dire Wolves. It seems a silver-rank adventuring party was out hunting and happened to pass through this area."
However, the man beside him—a veteran tracker—immediately scoffed harshly.
"Use your eyes, fool," he rebuked sharply, pointing at the decapitated wolf corpses. "Look at these intact piles of meat and fur."
The veteran continued, "What kind of adventurer would willingly abandon hundreds of silver coins on the forest floor? They didn't even bother to skin them. They only carved open the chests to extract the cores."
"Perhaps they were in a rush?"
"No sane adventurer abandons valuable loot, no matter how much of a rush they are in."
Amidst the minor debate, Captain Cedric remained entirely silent.
The rugged man, bearing a claw scar across his neck, stepped forward wordlessly. His gaze bypassed the intact wolf corpses and locked directly onto a shallow crater in the center of the battlefield.
Cedric's brow furrowed deeply. Inside the crater, the earth was blackened and cracked. The four Dire Wolf carcasses there were not merely dead; they had been reduced to horrific piles of carbon and ash.
The captain crouched. He felt the residual waves of heat still radiating faintly from the scorched soil.
"Fan out," Cedric ordered abruptly. His voice was heavy and commanding, instantly silencing his subordinates' chatter.
"Comb the area within a five-hundred-meter radius. Look for footprints, remnants of a campsite, or broken branches. I want to know who or what passed through here."
"Yes, Captain!"
The entire squad immediately dispersed, vanishing back into the dense woods, leaving Cedric alone in the center of the blast crater.
After ensuring his subordinates were out of earshot, Cedric removed his leather gloves.
He extended a calloused finger, touching the charred remains of a wolf's ribcage. The moment his finger made contact, the structure crumbled instantly into fine dust.
The heat from the magic that had struck this place was incredibly pure and absolutely lethal.
Cedric pinched a small amount of the Dire Wolf ash, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger. His gaze grew complicated and filled with extreme wariness.
"Fire magic with a destructive scale this high... it would undoubtedly shatter the monster cores within their bodies," Cedric muttered softly to himself. "What kind of adventurer intentionally destroys their own targets of bounty?"
The discovery made no sense to him. If this were the work of adventurers, they would have utilized precision magic to preserve the integrity of their loot.
This kind of total annihilation, devoid of any care for the spoils, was the combat style of an assassin. Or worse... an entity that cared absolutely nothing for wealth or treasure.
And the immaculate, surgical cuts on the other wolves proved that the culprit was also an exceptionally skilled close-quarters combatant.
One man with apocalyptic magical capabilities and master-level swordsmanship? Or an unknown elite military unit? A grim premonition crept up the back of the captain's neck.
About ten minutes later, the approaching footsteps of his subordinates echoed through the trees. One by one, the members of the elite scout squad emerged from the foliage, their faces painted with frustration.
"Reporting, Captain. Nothing," the veteran tracker said, lowering his head. "No boot prints, no snapped twigs, not even the residual scent of potions. Whoever did this, they vanished like a ghost."
Cedric's brow furrowed even sharper. He stared into the dark shadows of the trees, as if attempting to pierce the deepest secrets of the Eastern Forest.
"We cannot linger here. The scent of blood will soon attract high-tier predators," Cedric finally decided.
He stood up and pulled his gloves back on. "Gather the remaining intact Dire Wolf carcasses. We will bring their meat and pelts back to Wealden City as evidence. The Mayor must see the remnants of these 'Falling Stars' for himself."
With rapid efficiency, the elite scout squad shouldered the remnants of Alphonse's battle, leaving the scorched crater behind as a silent witness to the birth of a new power in their world.