Chapter 20: Night Vision
Goblins again.
Raven spotted three of them circling a lone wild wolf ahead—bone knives raised, movements jittery and uneven. These weren't like the looter from before. Their steps lacked rhythm, their formation sloppy enough to make even the wolf look disciplined.
Raven ducked behind a thick trunk, breath steady, spear angled low. He waited.
And watched.
The goblins lunged in together—poorly timed, poorly aimed. The wolf twisted between them, fangs snapping, claws tearing into green flesh.
Chaos hid his approach.
Raven slipped from the tree's shadow and crept closer, each footfall masked by the snarls and scrapes of the fight. When the nearest goblin stumbled back, he struck.
His spear darted forward.
A perfect thrust—ruined at the last moment as the goblin jerked in panic. The blade grazed instead of piercing, slicing only a thin line across its neck.
But a wound was a wound.
The wolf lunged on instinct, clamping down on the goblin's throat and ripping it open. The creature shrieked once before dropping to the dirt.
The other goblins spun at the noise, stunned to see a human appear from the grass.
Too late.
Raven surged forward, a shadow in motion. His spear flickered—one stroke, then another. The second goblin fell with a gurgle. The third barely raised its knife before the spear punched through its chest.
Silence followed!
The wolf stared at him for a heartbeat—cautious, judging—before melting back into the forest.
Raven knelt beside the bodies.
He cut their left ears, stored them, and extracted their bloodline essences with practiced precision.
…
[Bloodline Devourer System activated!]
[Goblin Warrior's Bloodline Essence has been found!]
[Analyzing…]
[Purity: 0.1% — Rank 1 Goblin Warrior]
[Extraction of Bloodline Ability… FAILED (Low Purity)]
[Absorbing Blood Essence…]
[Spirit +0.08]
[Vitality +0.03]
[Strength +0.02]
[Agility +0.02]
[Mutation processing…]
…
"So low purity can't give me abilities…" Raven murmured, wiping his blade clean.
He didn't dwell on it. The small gains still added up.
He kept moving.
As the forest deepened, enemies rose from every shadow—goblins, kobolds, wolves drawn by scent and noise. The early battles were clumsy; he ducked too late, swung too soon, and nearly took a wolf's claw across the face.
But each mistake carved a lesson into his mind.
His footwork sharpened. His grip firmed. His spear stopped feeling like a tool and started moving like an extension of his arm.
And every kill brought more essence.
Hours slipped by. By the time the sky blushed with evening light, Raven's clothes were smeared with dirt and dried blood. A leather bag on his hip sagged with trophies: twenty goblin ears, twelve kobold ears, three wolf ears.
Fifty-three points.
Not bad for a first day.
He had used two Strength potions and one Agility potion to survive a vicious three-wolf ambush, but the results spoke for themselves.
He checked his status window.
…
Status
Name: Raven Sillalus Jorvot
Age: 15
Nationality: Zenith Empire
Title: 66th Prince
Level: 1
Class: Acolyte Warlock (0th Circle)
Soul Rank: Mortal (Damage: 84%)
Pathway: Beginner Alchemist
Health: Fatigued
Strength: 1.5
Agility: 1.67
Vitality: 1.56
Luck: 1.5
Spirit: 8.6
Bloodline Spells:
Regeneration (Incomplete) Fortuitous Finder (Completed)
Skills:
Past Finder Instant Memorize
Affinity:
Life (Low)
…
"No wonder I felt different," he whispered. The numbers didn't lie—he had already stepped beyond the mortal range.
This should secure his graduation score…
assuming he lived through the night.
"I need shelter."
The forest shifted around him as he walked—trees growing thicker, their silhouettes stretching like pillars in a cathedral. Then the landscape opened.
Raven froze.
An Eldertwine Tree towered above the woodland, its trunk thick enough to swallow houses, its branches spreading like the arms of an ancient giant. Luminescent mushrooms dotted the bark, glowing with soft blue and violet light.
"Luminescent Mooncaps…" Raven's eyes widened.
Where there were Mooncaps, there were sometimes—
He spotted it.
A mushroom with a rainbow-tinted cap.
Perfect for concocting the Dawn Spirit Potion.
Beneath the roots, he found a hollow—deep, sheltered, and perfectly hidden.
He cleared debris, cleared out insects, and covered the entrance with woven branches until it vanished into the earth.
Night fell fully.
Howls drifted across the woods. Something shrieked in the distance. The hollow trembled with life—ants crawling, spiders weaving, roots creaking.
Raven lit a candle. Soft light danced over the root-woven ceiling.
"Can I even sleep here?" he muttered, unease settling in his stomach.
He shook it off and pulled out a glass vial—black, faintly pulsing.
The Night Vision potion.
He drank it without hesitation.
Heat stabbed through his eyes. His hands shot up on impulse—
[Don't rub your eyes. Let the mutation run its course.]
Zera's calm voice halted him mid-motion.
His vision dimmed, his thoughts blurred…
Then sleep swallowed him whole.
…
A sharp sting snapped him awake.
"Ah—damn!" He jerked his hand back, a dead ant falling from his palm.
The candle had burned out—but he could still see everything.
Not with light.
With a vivid green glow washing over the hollow, every line sharp, every movement visible.
"Night Vision…"
A wave of notifications shimmered into existence.
…
['Dawn Night Vision' potion consumed!]
[Spirit +0.5]
[Feral Eye Crystal essence detected — mutation complete!]
[Skill acquired: Night Vision]
[Spirit threshold reached — 'Spiritual Scan' unlocked!]
[Current Range: 0.5 meters]
…
Raven stilled.
And felt.
Tiny movements rippled through the roots above him—ants navigating wood, spiders crawling, worms shifting in dirt. Beneath the ground, something larger trembled faintly.
A rat.
He sensed it without seeing it.
So this is Spiritual Scan…
Shirley's voice echoed in his memory.
Ground vibrations mean a large beast might be approaching…
[Normally, Walkers reach this ability at Rank 2. Your Spirit is high enough—and the mutation helped. Your senses have expanded far beyond normal mortal limits.]
Zera's voice flowed through his mind.
As she spoke, the golden hexagon within Raven's consciousness pulsed—
a soft hum rising.
It was the [Fortuitous Finder] spell model!
Something tugged at Raven's mind—soft at first, then unmistakably real.
A pull, warm and enticing, like a thread of invisible power calling him deeper into the woods.
Zera's voice rippled through his thoughts, low and amused.
[Oh? A little opportunity is waking up. Remember—opportunities never walk alone. Danger always trails behind.]
Raven hesitated. "Should I even check it? There are still monsters out there."
[Then we take precautions.]
A reddish feather shimmered into existence beside him. It drifted down like a falling ember and settled on his palm, warm against his skin.
[A drop of blood. Leave it here.]
He obeyed, the feather drinking the blood before lying still on the cave floor.
"What is that even for…?" he muttered, but Zera offered nothing more.
Outside, the night air greeted him with its damp chill. Raven gripped his spear and stepped out of the hidden cleft, senses stretched thin. The forest unfurled before him—moonlit leaves, shifting shadows, the faint quiver of distant vibrations echoing underfoot.
The pull strengthened.
Raven followed.
…
He slid between trunks and over roots, crossed a narrow river whose water ran silver in the moonlight, and stepped out into a broad stretch of grassland. The trembling in the soil grew sharper, beating like a distant drum.
"Downstream," Raven whispered. The river ahead joined another, its waters rumbling with a louder cadence.
The sound wasn't water alone.
A deep roar boomed across the open land.
Raven reached the edge of a cliff before he even realized he had climbed one. A waterfall thundered below him, crashing into a wide lake that glowed faintly beneath the moon.
"How…" He looked down the steep drop. "…am I supposed to get there?"
Another roar tore through the night.
Raven looked ahead.
Two silhouettes crashed into each other on the plains—a monstrous serpent and a towering Orc, tearing the land apart with every strike.
The serpent gleamed like polished obsidian. Three heads lunged and weaved, all crowned with emerald eyes and marked by a strange "W" symbol glowing below each throat. Thirty meters of coiled muscle carved scars into the earth.
Opposite it, an Orc the size of a cottage bellowed, skin like hammered steel and armor like war-forged plates. Two iron horns curved from its skull. Its axe—pure iron and heavy enough to fell a house—swung in brutal arcs.
Raven froze at the waterfall's edge, hidden behind a veil of leaves.
The Orc smashed the serpent's left head; its right head twisted, fangs snapping shut around the Orc's arm. The ground shook as they slammed into trees and split rocks with their bodies.
The severed head of the serpent melted into green liquid… then re-formed, bubbling until a new head rose from the wound.
Raven's heart lurched. "It can regenerate that fast?"
The Orc roared and struck again, re-severing the same head. This time the regeneration slowed—tissue knitting sluggishly.
The serpent wasn't trying to win by force.
It was waiting.
Raven spotted it first:
A faint shimmer in the air.
A wrongness.
No smell. No color.
Poison.
Invisible and creeping outwards.
The Orc didn't notice. Its breath grew ragged. Purple spread through its arm. The steel-like skin cracked, corroded by the unseen toxin.
The serpent's advantage finally showed.
But the Orc refused to fall.
With a guttural snarl, it bent its knees and launched skyward, soaring ten meters high. Golden aura flared around its axe—bright, concentrated, lethal.
The blade fell like a sunlit guillotine.
The serpent's final hiss ended in a wet, splitting crunch.
Its corpse slammed onto the grass, venomous blood splattering across the Orc's face. The Orc stumbled backward, dropped its axe, and collapsed. Its chest heaved as it lay among corroded earth and burning greenery.
Regeneration or not, it was dying.
Raven's pulse quickened.
Zera's earlier whisper echoed in his mind.
Opportunity.
Raven descended the waterfall with practiced care, gripping rocks slick with spray. He crept through the wet grass toward the fallen giant, Night Vision outlining every wound, every twitch.
The Orc lay on its back, breath shallow, muscles spasming as the poison gnawed through its veins. It didn't sense him until he was only a few steps away.
Raven raised his spear.
The Orc's eyes snapped open—red, furious.
Its arm swept sideways.
The air alone hit Raven like a hammer. He staggered, boots skidding through the grass.
"Still strong? Damn it…"
He fumbled into his inventory and pulled out a vial of paralysis poison, then a thick syringe. His fingers worked fast—too fast to hesitate.
The Orc's gaze followed him, cloudy but dangerous.
Raven lunged.
The Orc roared and swung its hand, but the poison had already slowed it. Raven slid beneath the blow, drove the syringe into the swollen thigh, and slammed the plunger down.
The Orc's muscles seized instantly.
Raven didn't wait.
He thrust his spear straight through the Orc's exposed throat.
The beast's legs twitched… then fell still.
Only the wind moved afterward, carrying away the stench of venom and blood.
Raven stood alone in the moonlit field, chest heaving, spear dripping.
The Orc's corpse still lay slumped in the grass, but Raven didn't dare approach it yet.
Not when another fortune waited only a few steps away.
His gaze shifted to the colossal snake sprawled across the field—headless, venom leaking in faint green mist from its wounds.
He approached with quiet steps.
"Zera, use Bloodline Devouring on it."
[Place your hand beneath the throat.]
Raven knelt and pressed his palm against the cold scales. The serpent's blood responded instantly—pulling inward, gathering like a reversed tide. A sphere of swirling green-blue essence formed above his hand, humming with poisonous power.
Then it sank into his flesh.
A storm of notifications flashed before him.
…
[Bloodline Devourer System activated!]
[Rank-1 Dreadvenom Tri-Cobra Bloodline detected!]
[Purity: 100%]
[Bloodline Ability available for extraction.]
[Use Bloodline Devouring? Yes/No]
…
"Yes."
…
[Commencing Bloodline Devouring…]
[Randomizing ability extraction…]
[Selected Ability: Poison Touch]
[Poison Touch acquired!]
[Absorbing blood essence…]
[Spirit +2.0]
[Vitality +1.0]
[Strength +1.0]
[Agility +1.0]
[Minor mutation initiated.]
…
"Oh—damn, I forgot this thing was a high-tier monster—"
The words died as agony ripped through him.
His vision warped. Knees buckled. Only instinct kept him from collapsing as the mutation crawled through his bones, veins, nerves.
But unlike his previous transformations, he stayed awake this time.
The pain burned through him for several long minutes, then waned.
Raven exhaled shakily.
Something new pulsed inside his mind—a second crystalline hexagon, glowing blue-green, resonating with poisonous intent.
His skin peeled in thin flakes, shedding like an old snakeskin.
"So how do I activate Poison Touch?"
He walked to a fallen trunk, concentrating, trying to channel the new ability.
Nothing.
Zera answered before frustration settled in.
[You can't use it yet. You don't know how to draw poison element into your body. The spell model will absorb it on its own, but very slowly—one cast in a week or two at best.]
A pause.
[You also lack Poison Affinity. Without at least Low-Rank affinity, your spell will be weak. Check the notifications.]
Raven opened the interface.
…
[Mutation complete!]
['Poison Heart' acquired.]
[A single drop of Host's blood can now become lethal poison.]
[Poison potency scales with Rank and elemental understanding.]
[Poison Affinity: None — Unable to fully utilize Poison Heart.]
[Soul Damage: Reduced to 65.4%]
[Lifespan increased by 21 years.]
…
"Poison Heart…"
His fingers trembled—not with fear, but wonder.
He barely had time to savor the improvement before Zera's voice pressed in.
[You still have one more job.]
Raven drew a long breath and turned toward the Orc.
He laid his hand over the Orc's chest. Thick blood crawled upward, drawn by unseen force, solidifying into a deep red gem of essence.
It dissolved into his skin.
Notifications followed.
…
[Rank-1 Orc Warrior Bloodline detected!]
[Purity: 100%]
[Abilities available for extraction.]
[Use Bloodline Devouring? Yes/No]
"Yes."
[Commencing Bloodline Devouring…]
[Host already possesses lesser Iron Resilience.]
[Extracting remaining bloodline essence…]
[Strengthening 'Regeneration' and retrieving full 'Iron Resilience'.]
[Spirit +2.0]
[Vitality +1.0]
[Strength +1.0]
[Agility +1.0]
[Minor mutation initiated.]
…
This time, the pain came as a crushing wave—stronger, suffocating. Raven sank to the ground, jaw clenched, sweat dripping from his chin.
Thirty minutes passed before he could stand again.
His skin felt… different. Tighter. Hardened.
As if his entire body had become a shield.
He opened the system again.
…
[Mutation complete!]
['Iron Resilience' Bloodline Spell acquired!]
[Soul Damage: Reduced to 40.4%]
[Lifespan increased by 32 years.]
…
"Fifty-eight years… I got fifty-eight more years!"
Excitement lit his eyes. Inside his mind, the green crystalline hexagon pulsed brighter—less cracked, more whole.
Zera's tone softened slightly.
[Three Rank-1 Bloodline Spells at your age is exceptional. You can't use them fully yet, but with proper Elemental Circles engraved, you'll become a real Acolyte Warlock.]
"You mean I can safely take the Ice Affinity Potion now? Maybe even enter Crow's Misery Academy?"
[After the Miracle Life Potion.]
Raven nodded and opened his status once more.
…
Name: Raven Sillalus Jorvot
Age: 15
Level: 3
Class: Acolyte Warlock (0th Circle)
Soul Rank: Mortal (40.4% Damage)
Health: Normal
Strength: 3.5
Agility: 3.67
Vitality: 3.56
Luck: 0.5
Spirit: 13.1
Bloodline Spells:
Iron Resilience Poison Touch Fortuitous Finder
Skills:
Past Finder Instant Memorize Night Vision Spiritual Scan
Affinity:
Life (Low)
…
Raven flexed his fingers. His body almost hummed with power.
"I feel three times stronger…"
[Don't get cocky. Strong monsters live here—the kind that will squash you without noticing. And look at your Luck. You're actually unlucky now. Leave this place quickly.]
Raven grimaced.
"After I at least take their elemental cores."
He worked fast.
From the Cobra, he harvested two massive venomous fangs, six jade-like eyes, and the swollen poison gland.
From the Orc, he claimed its Feral Eye Crystals and Trollsbane Glands.
He extracted a Life Elemental Crystal and a Poison Elemental Crystal—each the size of a pebble, each worth hundreds of gold.
He wanted more—bones, scales—but time pressed against his spine like a blade.
He left the battlefield, scaled the cliff beside the waterfall, and followed the river upstream.
Along the way, two wolves ambushed a rabbit. Raven intercepted, killed them with ease, and moved on.
Five kobolds attacked him next.
They lasted barely a minute.
Two hours later, the Eldertwine Tree rose into view—huge, ancient, familiar.
Relief washed through him.
Raven checked his pocket watch.
"5:15 a.m. Still forty-five minutes left."
He glanced once at the towering tree, then turned toward the west.
Time to go home.