Chapter 62
Nille did not sense any killing intent from the massive lizard as it passed him. Instead of reacting with fear, he felt something unexpected—calm curiosity. The creature simply moved on, as if he didn't exist.
That alone told him something was different about this place.
He paused for a moment, looking around, trying to understand the structure of the world he was walking through. In his mind, he traced his path so far.
First, there was the area where he encountered the Orocai.Then came the overlapping territories of the Chimera and the Basilisks—chaotic, unstable, and constantly in conflict.After that, he passed through the Sigbin and Goblin sub-branch zones.Then, the domain of the Tikbalang.
Each region had been distinct, almost like separate layers or ecosystems stacked next to each other.
But now…
This place felt different.
There was no clear transition. No obvious descent. The land stretched forward in what felt like a straight, endless line. No steep drops, no tunnels sloping downward—nothing that would suggest he had gone deeper.
Yet something felt… off.
Nille narrowed his eyes slightly.
"Scarf," he said quietly, "where am I now?"
There was a brief pause before the response came.
"You are currently in the fifth underground layer."
Nille blinked.
"…Fifth?"
That didn't make sense.
"I didn't go down," he muttered. "It felt like I was just walking forward."
"Your perception is accurate," the scarf replied calmly. "However, this environment does not follow conventional spatial structure."
Nille looked ahead again, his gaze sharpening.
So that was it.
This place wasn't built like a normal world. Depth wasn't measured by distance downward, but by progression forward, maybe its a spiral landscape.
What felt like a straight path… was actually leading him deeper. Much deeper.
Nille didn't sense any killing intent from the massive lizard as it passed by him. That alone was enough to unsettle him. A creature that large, yet completely indifferent—it didn't see him as prey… or even worth noticing.
He watched it disappear into the darkness, its heavy body dragging across the ground, leaving deep marks behind.
For a moment, Nille just stood there.
Amazed… and curious.
He began to think about everything he had seen so far.
The first area—where he encountered the Orocai.Then the overlapping territory of the Chimera and Basilisks.After that, the sub-branch tunnels where Sigbin and Patianak lurked in the shadows.Then the Tikbalang domain.
Each place felt different. Structured. Almost organized.
"Scarf," Nille said quietly, "where am I now?"
There was a brief pause before the answer came.
"You are currently in the fifth underground layer."
Nille frowned slightly.
"That doesn't make sense… I don't feel like I went that deep."
The path he had taken didn't feel like a descent. There were no steep drops, no long stairways—just what seemed like a straight, endless stretch of land.
Yet somehow… he was deeper.
Much deeper.
As he stood there, thinking about his next move, something unexpected caught his attention.
The drag marks.
The same marks left behind by the massive lizard.
But now… something else was following them.
Nille narrowed his eyes.
Figures began to emerge from the shadows—thin, hunched, crawling things. Their movements were erratic but purposeful. They weren't chasing randomly.
They were tracking.
Following the trail of the large lizard.
That's when it clicked.
"...They migrate," Nille muttered.
The realization settled in quickly.
Malignants weren't fixed to one territory. They could move. Change zones. Adapt. And more importantly… some of them didn't hunt directly.
They waited.
Like scavengers.
Waiting for something stronger to fall.
The smell reached him next.
Rotten. Sour. Familiar.
Nille's expression hardened.
He knew that scent.
Very well.
"...Ghouls."
The word left his mouth almost instinctively.
Twisted creatures. A distant, corrupted cousin of goblins. Known in old stories as Gabunan, corpse eaters.
They didn't fight fair. They didn't hunt strong prey.
They fed on the dead… or the dying.
Nille's grip tightened slightly.
Memories surfaced.
He was eleven years old the last time he encountered them.
Back then, they were smaller in number… but just as disgusting.
And he had killed them.
Every single one.
His eyes returned to the present.
Now, more of them were crawling out, drawn by the trail of the massive lizard.
Waiting.
Watching.
Hoping it would die.
Nille exhaled slowly.
"Scavengers…"
This place wasn't just dangerous.
It was a system.
A living, shifting ecosystem where even monsters had roles to play.
And now, standing in the fifth underground layer…
Nille realized something important.
He wasn't just exploring anymore.
He was inside something far more complex than he first thought.
Nille remained still, his eyes fixed on the crawling figures in the distance.
It wasn't fear that bothered him.
It was understanding.
Everything he had seen… it was starting to make sense in a way he didn't like.
The silence stretched for a moment before Scarf spoke.
"The Gabunan are not here by chance."
Nille didn't respond, but he was listening.
"They most likely followed the Drake," Scarf continued. "It began migrating toward another location. As its condition worsened, it left behind a stronger scent trail."
Nille glanced at the deep drag marks carved into the ground.
"So it's dying…"
"Yes," Scarf confirmed. "And that scent—decay mixed with fading life—attracts corpse eaters."
Nille's gaze shifted back to the creatures.
The Gabunan weren't attacking yet.
They were waiting.
Watching.
Patient.
"Scavengers," Nille muttered again.
"They will not engage until the Drake is close to death," Scarf added. "It conserves their energy and reduces risk."
That made Nille frown slightly.
Efficient.
Too efficient.
For a brief moment, he considered walking away. Let the creatures tear each other apart. There was no need for him to get involved.
But Scarf spoke again.
"This situation presents an opportunity."
Nille didn't like the sound of that.
"What kind of opportunity?"
"The Drake."
Nille's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Its core."
There was a short pause.
"If you obtain it," Scarf continued, "it will significantly benefit your current objective."
Nille stayed silent, waiting.
"The spiritual energy contained within a Drake core is substantial. Based on your current state…" Scarf paused for a fraction of a second, calculating.
"It is sufficient to push you to Level 20."
That made Nille's expression shift—just slightly.
Level 20.
That wasn't a small jump.
He looked again at the trail… then in the direction where the Drake had gone.
Then at the growing number of Gabunan gathering in the shadows.
"So I either take it…" Nille said quietly, "or they will."
"Correct."
Another silence followed.
This time, heavier.
Because now it wasn't just observation anymore.
It was a decision.
If he moved now, he might reach the Drake before it died… and claim the core himself.
But that also meant facing a dying Drake, still powerful enough to be dangerous,
And a swarm of corpse eaters waiting for their chance.
If he waited…
He'd be dealing with a feeding frenzy instead.
Nille let out a slow breath.
"…Either way," he murmured, "this won't be simple."
"No," Scarf replied calmly. "But the reward is proportional to the risk."
Nille's grip tightened slightly.
His eyes sharpened.
Then he took a step forward.
"Then I'll take it before they do."
The ground grew quieter—but only for a moment.
Then, one by one… they started to appear.
At first, it was just a few shapes crawling out from cracks and tunnels. Then more followed. And more.
Soon, the shadows themselves seemed alive.
The corpse eaters were coming.
Nille's eyes narrowed as he took in the sight.
"…There's a lot of them."
That was an understatement.
Dozens turned into hundreds as the Gabunan gathered along the Drake's trail. The sheer size of the creature had drawn them in from every direction. Its scent—thick with weakening life and approaching death—was like a signal no scavenger could ignore.
But what truly caught Nille's attention… was how different they looked.
These weren't the same creatures he had killed back in Bulacan.
Not even close.
These ones were leaner. Their bodies tightly packed with muscle, skin stretched over sinew that moved unnaturally with every step. Their arms were longer—too long—ending in curved claws that scraped against stone, leaving thin marks behind.
Their fangs protruded from their jaws, jagged and uneven, constantly exposed as their mouths twitched and opened slightly.
Each movement carried strength.
Raw, violent strength.
Nille's gaze hardened.
"…They've evolved."
"Correct," Scarf replied calmly. "The density of spiritual energy in this layer has influenced their development. These variants are significantly stronger than surface-level Gabunan."
Nille watched as one of them dragged its claws across a rock—effortlessly carving into it.
"…Yeah. I can see that."
Those claws weren't just for tearing flesh.
They could rip a fully grown man in half without effort.
The realization settled in quickly.
This wasn't a simple hunt anymore.
This was a swarm.
Scarf spoke again, its tone slightly sharper this time.
"There is another concern."
Nille didn't look away from the gathering creatures.
"What is it?"
"If the Gabunan begin feeding on the Drake before you extract the core…" Scarf paused briefly.
"The core may be damaged."
That made Nille's expression shift.
"…Damaged?"
"Yes. The integrity of the core depends on the condition of the host body. Excessive consumption—especially by creatures that absorb residual energy—can destabilize it."
In simpler terms…
If the ghouls got to it first—
The reward would be ruined.
Nille clicked his tongue softly.
"Then I don't have time to wait."
"Correct."
Another wave of Gabunan crawled out from the darkness, joining the growing mass. Some clung to the walls. Others crouched low to the ground.
But something stood out.
They weren't looking at him.
Not even one.
Nille noticed it immediately.
"…They haven't seen me."
"They cannot," Scarf replied. "These Gabunan are blind."
That made Nille pause.
"Blind?"
"They rely entirely on their sense of smell to locate prey."
As if to prove the point, several Gabunan lifted their heads slightly, nostrils flaring as they inhaled deeply.
All of them were facing the same direction.
Toward the Drake.
"The scent of the Drake is overwhelming their senses," Scarf continued. "Its presence is suppressing their ability to detect lesser targets."
Nille understood instantly.
Right now…
To them—
He didn't exist.
The Drake was everything.
Their hunger was focused. Absolute. Consuming.
Some of the Gabunan even trembled slightly, their bodies twitching as they struggled to hold themselves back from rushing forward too early.
They were waiting for the perfect moment.
For death.
Nille exhaled slowly, lowering his stance just slightly.
"…So I move now… while they're distracted."
"Yes," Scarf confirmed. "This is your optimal window."
Nille's eyes sharpened as he looked ahead, following the deep drag marks left behind by the dying Drake.
Hundreds of corpse eaters.
A dying giant.
And a single chance to claim its core before everything descended into chaos.
His grip tightened.
"…Then I'll take it."
Without another word—
Nille moved.
Quiet. Precise.
Slipping past the swarm of blind predators, using their own hunger against them as he followed the trail deeper into the darkness… toward the dying Drake.
Nille slowed his steps as the full weight of the situation settled in.
For the first time since he entered this layer… he didn't move immediately.
His eyes swept across the swarm again—hundreds of Gabunan, each one strong enough to tear him apart if things went wrong. Then his gaze shifted forward, toward the unseen but unmistakable presence of the dying Drake.
He exhaled slowly.
"…This is bad."
Not panic.
Just a clear, honest assessment.
He crouched slightly, lowering his center of gravity as his mind began to work through everything.
"A dying Drake… and a swarm of evolved corpse eaters surrounding it."
He clicked his tongue softly.
"…And I'm planning to walk straight into that."
There was a brief pause as he considered the risks.
"If I rush in too early, I'll be dealing with a Drake that can still fight back."
His eyes narrowed.
"Even dying, something that big won't go down quietly."
Then his gaze shifted back to the Gabunan.
"And if I wait too long…"
He didn't need to finish the sentence.
They would tear the body apart.
And once the feeding started, it wouldn't just be about the core anymore—it would become chaos. Frenzied, unpredictable, and far more dangerous.
He clenched his jaw slightly.
"…No clean timing."
Every option had a cost.
That bothered him—but not enough to stop him.
Instead, he adjusted his breathing, forcing it to slow and steady.
"In… out…"
His heartbeat followed.
Calm.
Controlled.
"This isn't like before," he muttered. "Those things in Bulacan were weak… careless."
His eyes sharpened again as he looked at the Gabunan.
"These ones are different. Stronger. More patient."
Then, after a short pause, he added quietly—
"…And I'm alone this time."
That truth lingered for a second.
But only for a second.
Because Nille had already accepted it.
He shifted his grip, steadying himself.
"…Alright."
His tone changed.
Less doubt.
More resolve.
"I don't need to fight all of them."
That was the key.
"I just need the core."
A clear objective.
Nothing extra.
Nothing unnecessary.
He glanced once more at the swarm, then toward the Drake's direction.
"…Get in. Take it. Get out."
Simple plan.
Hard execution.
Nille let out one last slow breath.
"…If this goes wrong," he said quietly, "I won't get a second chance."
"No," Scarf replied.
Nille gave a faint, almost amused exhale.
"…Yeah. I figured."
Then his expression hardened completely.
No more hesitation.
Only focus.
"…Then I won't mess it up."
And with that—
Nille moved forward again, this time not just cautious…
But fully committed.
Nille stopped for half a step when Scarf mentioned the number.
"…Level 600?"
His voice was quiet, but sharper now.
That wasn't just strong. That was a tier where most things stopped being "monsters" and started becoming natural disasters.
He narrowed his eyes slightly.
"…That thing… is that what wounded the Drake?"
There was a short pause before Scarf responded.
"The entity I was able to scan in the area where the Drake originated from is no longer present."
Nille's gaze darkened a little.
"…Gone?"
"Yes," Scarf confirmed. "Its presence has completely vanished from that region. It is no longer detectable."
Nille clicked his tongue softly.
"…So it left."
"Most likely."
He glanced forward again, toward the unseen corpse of the Drake.
"So it beat it… and just walked away?"
"That is one interpretation," Scarf replied. "Another possibility is that it determined the Drake was no longer a threat in its current state and abandoned the area."
Nille frowned slightly.
"…Left it to die."
"Yes."
That made the situation feel even worse.
Not a chaotic fight.
Not a desperate kill.
But something precise.
Controlled.
Deliberate.
Scarf continued, its tone shifting into deeper analysis.
"I have evaluated all known variables."
Nille stayed silent.
"There are Malignants capable of reaching high-level strength while maintaining low detection signatures. Some of them possess limited intelligence."
A pause.
"However…"
Scarf's tone sharpened slightly.
"The recorded power signature was Level 600."
Nille's expression didn't change—but his focus tightened.
"That is within the same general range as the Drake."
Another pause.
"…Which leads to a singular conclusion."
Nille already felt where this was going.
Scarf confirmed it.
"The entity that wounded the Drake is either capable of concealing its true strength…"
"…or possesses sufficient intelligence to outmaneuver and strategically defeat a creature of equal tier."
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Even the air around them felt denser now, as if the underground itself was reacting to the implication.
Nille slowly exhaled.
"…So it's not just strong."
He shifted his stance slightly, eyes locked ahead.
"…It's smart."
"Correct."
That changed everything.
Strong enemies could be read.
Predicted.
Fought.
But intelligent enemies—
They adapted.
They planned.
They didn't just overpower.
They decided how you lost.
Nille's grip tightened faintly.
"…A Level 600 that thinks."
He let that sink in for a moment.
Then his voice dropped, calmer—but colder.
"…That's worse than I expected."
Scarf didn't respond immediately.
Because even it had no comforting adjustment to offer.
The variables were already unstable.
A dying Drake.
A swarm of evolved scavengers.
And somewhere below this level…
A possible predator that didn't just hunt—it strategized.
Nille looked forward again, toward the path he was taking.
The objective hadn't changed.
But the shape of the world around it had.
"…Doesn't matter," he said quietly, almost to himself.
Then he started walking again.
"…I'm already here."
And behind that simple statement—
Was the understanding that whatever had injured the Drake…
Was no longer just a distant threat.
It was part of the same world he was stepping deeper into.
Nille exhaled slowly as Scarf finished its analysis.
The situation was tightening faster than expected.
A Level 600 unknown.A dying Drake.Hundreds of evolved Gabunan closing in.
And a ticking window he couldn't afford to miss.
Nille kept his eyes forward, but his thoughts had become sharper after Scarf's explanation.
"…So after twenty-five minutes, it's basically useless," he repeated.
"Correct," Scarf replied. "The Drake has high core value, will lose stability and its energy will break down. it has like a spiritual imprint of its owner"
A short silence followed.
Then Nille asked something simpler.
"…Why does it matter who kills it?"
To him, a kill was a kill. Whoever took it should get the reward.
But Scarf answered immediately.
"It matters because of how high-tier Malignants work."
Nille's eyes narrowed slightly.
Scarf continued in a clearer, more direct way.
"Low-level creatures are simple. If you kill them, you get their drops. No rules."
A pause.
"But high level creatures are different."
Nille listened without interrupting.
"They are partly intelligent and have strong life energy. When they die, their core carries that energy—and the system recognizes who defeated them."
Nille frowned slightly.
"…Recognizes?"
"Yes," Scarf said. "Not as a choice, but as a rule of nature in this world."
It simplified the idea further.
"If you kill the Drake, its spiritual energy cores belongs to you. like you own it by right, but it doesn't mean somebody else cant steel it from you, "
Nille stayed quiet.
Scarf added more detail.
"This is why Head Merchant Rume Ironbark suspected you earlier with the Chimera and Basilisk cores."
Nille remembered that clearly now.
He had been questioned… not because of theft, but because of how ownership works in this world.
Scarf continued.
"Those lower cores can hardly break apart and be harvested But high level cores cannot."
A brief pause.
"because the main host has evolve and has intelligence the manner it use its power has a certain amount of control, unlike wild malignant that fellows it natural instinct and hunger ."
That made everything clearer.
Nille slowly exhaled.
"…So it's not just about killing it."
"Correct," Scarf confirmed. "It is about being the one who kills it."
That was the simple truth.
No loopholes.
No sharing.
No second place.
Nille looked ahead again, toward the direction of the dying Drake.
His grip tightened on the needle in his hand.
"…So if I don't finish it," he said quietly,
"you will lose the opportunity, that landed on your lap."
That was all Scarf needed to say.
Nille clicked his tongue softly.
"…Sigh! what a annoying system, it is what it is"
But he didn't complain further.
Because it didn't matter whether he liked the rules or not. They existed, and ignoring them would only cost him what he was here for.
The situation was simple now. The rules were clear. The goal was even clearer.
His eyes sharpened as everything narrowed down into a single point of focus.
"…Then I'm finishing it," he said quietly.
Not stealing. Not borrowing. Not relying on anyone else's outcome.
Taking it properly, by his own hand.
And with that understanding settled deep in his mind, Nille moved forward with more certainty than before.
Nille clicked his tongue once, then shifted his attention to his internal storage.
"…Alright. Tools check."
A faint mechanical response echoed in his perception as Scarf accessed his inventory.
"You still have approximately one hundred paralyzing needles remaining," Scarf reported. "Along with a sufficient stock of paralyzing solution."
Nille's gaze moved toward the swarm ahead.
The Gabunan were still gathering, slowly tightening their formation around the Drake's trail, unaware of him, but dangerously close to the point of eruption.
"…over one hundred," he repeated quietly.
Then his expression sharpened.
"…That's enough."
Scarf processed his intent immediately.
"Suggestion: use paralyzing needles to thin their numbers and create a controlled opening toward the Drake's position."
Nille nodded once.
Simple. Direct. Efficient.
Just the way he preferred it.
"…I don't need to fight all of them," he said. "Just stop them from reaching it."
"Correct."
Scarf continued, calculating rapidly.
"The Gabunan are blind and rely on scent. Their coordination is driven by convergence behavior rather than structured leadership. Disruption of their forward units will create hesitation in the swarm."
Nille adjusted his stance slightly, lowering his center of gravity.
"…So if I take out a few in front…"
"Yes. The rest will hesitate, recalibrate direction, or collapse into chaotic clustering."
That was the opening.
Not force.
Disruption.
Nille reached subtly toward his storage interface.
A faint metallic sound echoed as the first needle appeared between his fingers, thin, sharp, coated with a faint shimmering residue of paralyzing agent.
He rolled it once between his fingers.
"…Twenty-five minutes," he repeated under his breath.
His eyes sharpened.
"No room for mistakes."
Scarf remained steady.
"Recommendation: prioritize precision over volume. The objective is control, not extermination."
Nille gave a small nod.
"Yeah."
He exhaled once, slow, controlled.
Then his body shifted.
The hesitation was gone now.
Only execution remained.
"…Let's thin the herd."
and because he was motionless and the Ghoul were blind and fixated to their target, Nille just use his Psychokinesis ability to control the needles movement that was counted with paralyzing toxins, with a rapid flick of Nille wrist, the first paralyzing needle vanished into the darkness ahead, silent, fast, and deliberate.
And somewhere in the swarm, the first ten Gabunan collapsed without a sound. as the swarm continued their march those that fell were slowly left behind, Scarf made sure to protect and hide Nille presence as much as it could, ghouls might be blind but their strong keen sense in smell might alert a few of then, scarf doesn't want to take that chance, the supernatural realm is really complicated and highly complex now,
This was the part where Nille was still lacking, something subtle, but important.
Professor Caelum Verdanis had specifically requested documentation of Nille's hunts for this exact reason. Not because he doubted Nille's strength, but because strength alone wasn't enough in certain cases. When Encantos crossed boundaries and broke the laws that separated realms and their respective vices, simple elimination became far more complicated than it appeared on the surface.
In those situations, you weren't just dealing with a target, you were dealing with something that didn't fully belong to one rule set anymore. Something unstable, layered, and resistant to straightforward destruction.
And that was where Nille's current approach still had gaps.
He could adapt. He could fight. He could survive.
But understanding why something existed in a corrupted or transgressed state, and how that affected its removal, was still something he hadn't fully internalized.
That was exactly why Caelum wanted records. Not to control Nille's actions, but to study his decisions when reality didn't behave in simple, direct lines.
Because when Encantos broke the separation laws between realms, eliminating them wasn't just about killing what stood in front of you.
It was about knowing what kind of "thing" it had become… and what it would take to truly end it.