The air was no longer breathable; it was a swirling mixture of pulverized rock and the acrid, metallic tang of ozone driven by the colossal abomination towering over Pulse. Grotesque was an understatement. The creature, a horrifying fusion of chitinous beetle and skeletal bat, cast a shadow that ate the light. Its segmented body, the color of dried, arterial blood, was a fortress of thick armor plating, punctuated by dozens of slick, black eyes that focused on Pulse with the terrible, patient malice of a truly ancient predator.
It shrieked again, a sound less like a living thing and more like grinding tectonic plates, vibrating through the bones in Pulse's feet and rattling the very fillings in his teeth. The enormous, tattered wings, spanning a truly agonizing width, beat downward, stirring up a destructive cyclone that threatened to rip Pulse's footing away entirely. Viscous, iridescent ichor dripped from its maw, sizzling slightly as it hit the heated ground.
Pulse did not flinch. He planted his feet wide, adjusting his stance against the hurricane whipped up by the giant wings. He didn't waste time, his strength was singular and focused.
He activated his core skill.
A low, resonant hum began in the hilt of his sword, quickly escalating into a high, piercing drone. Pulse's blade, forged from dark steel, wasn't just vibrating; it was blurring, oscillating with such furious speed that it began to emit a visible distortion field, making the air around it shimmer. It was no longer just a sword; it was a physical manifestation of kinetic energy, a weapon singing its potential to destroy.
This was the key. He knew conventional blades would simply chip against that dried-blood carapace. But this vibrating edge, if it connected, would not merely cut; it would destabilize the very molecular structure of the armor, slicing through the shell as if it were soft butter.
The problem, as the beast demonstrated by a sudden, blurring lunge, was hitting it.
The Colossal dipped, not landing, but skimming the earth with terrifying speed. Pulse sidestepped the massive, armored claw that tore a trench thirty feet long into the ground where he had stood moments before. The creature was too fast, too large, and navigated the air with uncanny, violent grace.
"Come on, you overgrown husk!" Pulse roared, his voice thin against the creature's shriek.
The Colossal didn't respond with sound, but with action. It vaulted backward into the air, ascending rapidly until it was a confusing silhouette against the bruised sky. Then, it folded its massive wings close to its body and dropped like a meteorite, initiating a lethal dive-bomb.
This was the chance. The maximum speed achieved during the dive meant maximum momentum, but also a moment of committed trajectory.
Pulse held his ground as the shadow engulfed him. The roar of displacement air was deafening. He forced his skill to the breaking point, the sword singing in a manic, high-pitched frenzy, feeling like a live wire in his hand. He waited, letting the pressure build, ignoring the instinct screaming at him to run.
At the very last second, when the needle-sharp teeth were close enough for him to smell the foul ichor, Pulse didn't leap away. He leaped toward the strike.
Instead of dodging the head, he focused on the left wing joint, a point that was currently folded forward and taut with kinetic tension. He utilized the vibration in his sword, not just to cut, but to anchor himself momentarily in the air, using the immense force of the monster's descent to amplify his own swing.
The singing sword met the segmented shoulder armor.
The contact was not a clang of metal on chitin, but closer to the sound of shattered crystal. The armor plate, impossibly thick moments ago, simply failed. The sword didn't stop; the ultra-high frequency vibration turned the dense shell into dust, then tore through the underlying musculature and bone like thread.
A spray of the noxious, iridescent ichor erupted, blinding Pulse momentarily. The colossal shriek that followed was no longer a roar of malice, but a sound of pure agony, a high-pitched, desperate, and cut short.
The Colossal, its massive wing instantly rendered useless and detached from its body, tumbled out of the sky. The sheer mass of the creature caused the impact to shake the surrounding landscape like a moderate earthquake. It hit the ground with devastating force, the remaining intact wing scraping the dirt as it slid, kicking up a final, massive cloud of debris.
Pulse, coughing and covered in dust and hot ichor, staggered toward the crumpled monstrosity. It was still twitching, its multiple eyes dimmed slightly but still bearing terrible malice. One final, desperate snap of its jaw missed Pulse by inches.
Pulse didn't hesitate. With grim determination, he drove the humming sword down through the exposed, unarmored neck joint where the armor had splintered on impact. The vibration skill did the rest, severing the core connection in a brutal, final burst of energy.
The remaining light in the creature's eyes died. The giant body went slack, and the horrific humming stopped. Silence descended, broken only by Pulse's ragged breathing. He stood over the carcass, covered in gore and sweat, his muscles screaming from the exertion of maintaining the vibration and dodging the brutal force.
"A respectable kill, Pulse."
The voice was calm, resonant, and utterly stable, a perfect contrast to the chaos that had just unfolded. Verdant, the mentor and overseer, stepped out of the lingering dust cloud, his green cloak perfectly unruffled, his expression inscrutable.
Pulse sheathed the sword, which had already ceased its frantic humming. He leaned on the hilt, trying to gather his breath.
Verdant approached the carcass. He didn't touch the enormous, dead creature, but simply observed the precise, catastrophic damage caused by the vibrating blade.
"This is the pest of the Eastern Wastes," Verdant noted, sounding clinical. "Most recruits, even some seasoned ones, prefer to avoid it. Its speed and armor make it a near-perfect predator." He looked back at Pulse, a flicker of genuine surprise finally softening his stoic demeanor.
"I didn't actually expect you to kill it," Verdant admitted, pulling the shock right out of his words. "Not on your first attempt at such a target. Frankly, I expected you to learn its patterns and retreat, perhaps managing an injury. But you committed to the risk. That is noteworthy."
Pulse wiped a streak of drying ichor from his face. "It was the only way to pierce the shell, sir. It wouldn't stop moving."
Verdant nodded slowly, his eyes still studying the grotesque bat-beetle hybrid. "That ability of yours... To actually make a tier one blade cut through a strong carapace armor is frankly alarming for a new recruit. It's effective. Brutal, but effective."
He turned fully toward Pulse, his posture shifting into one of formal declaration.
"This test was rudimentary, Pulse, but necessary to gauge your operational readiness and, more importantly, your commitment under pressure. You have passed with unexpected success." Verdant gestured toward the horizon, where the air shimmered with strange, unnatural energies. "The local area is your training ground. But you have proven you are ready for more than just localized defense."
Verdant smiled faintly, a rare and meaningful gesture.
"You should be allowed to enter through the other worlds. Beyond this sphere, there are countless opportunities and countless... unpredictable threats."
Pulse straightened, the exhaustion momentarily forgotten, replaced by a surge of adrenaline and vindication.
"Thank you, Verdant," he said, nodding, the dust of the Eastern Wastes sticking to his sweat-soaked armor. The gruesome task was done, and the gateway to something vast and incomprehensible had just been opened.