Chapter 83
Nille moved quickly away from Sector 6 without looking back, his steps steady but faster than before. He headed straight toward Sector 11, using the hunting routes to put distance between himself and everything that had just happened.
He needed space.
Not physically—but mentally.
The events in the forest kept replaying in his mind: Imto Dimas, the truth about Granny Amparo, the Celestial Cloth's origin tied to Namaru, and the realization that so many threads of his bloodline had been entangled in conflicts he never even knew existed.
But one thing stood out above everything else.
He had almost lost.
If King Lykos had not intervened and torn off Imto's arm at the critical moment, Nille would not have been able to finish the fight on his own. Even with Nyx's assistance, his attacks had not been enough to secure a decisive outcome.
That truth hit harder than anything else.
For the first time, he clearly understood the gap.
Level 20.
That was where he stood.
Even with the Malignant cores he had absorbed earlier, his advancement would only reach around Level 25. Still far below what was truly needed in the conflicts he was now stepping into.
Compared to him, King Lykos stood at Level 450.
Imto Dimas, even in her unstable and fragmented state, was around Level 400.
And he had been standing in the middle of both of them.
Alive only because of timing, interference, and luck.
Not strength.
That realization settled heavily in his chest.
Nyx remained silent within the Celestial Cloth, not offering unnecessary reassurance this time. The data was already clear, and Nille understood it fully.
His survival had not come from superiority.
It had come from support systems, misdirection, and external intervention.
Without King Lykos arriving when he did, the outcome would have been different.
Fatal.
Nille exhaled slowly as he continued moving through Sector 11's outer paths, using the controlled aggression of hunting as a way to stabilize his thoughts. Each step forward became a release of frustration, each movement a way to push back the tension building inside him.
But beneath all of it, one thought remained fixed in his mind.
He needed to return home.
Not just for answers about Imto or the Celestial Cloth, but for Granny Amparo, for the missing pieces of his bloodline, and for the truth behind the Dalaketnon known as Apo Lakay.
Yet the question remained unresolved.
How?
The island was sealed, layered with restrictions, laws, and hidden forces that controlled movement between realms. Even the academy itself operated within those boundaries.
For now, he had no clear path back.
Only fragments.
And a growing realization that everything he had encountered so far was only a small part of something far larger than he could currently see.
So he kept moving forward.
Hunting.
Thinking.
And trying to steady the rising frustration within him before it turned into something he could no longer control.
As Nille continued moving through the outer paths of Sector 11, away from prying eyes, his thoughts grew heavier with every step.
The reality of what had just happened was settling in fully now.
Everything the academy labeled as "Malignant levels" was, in truth, only a simplified measurement, an artificial scale based primarily on the raw spiritual energy contained within a core. It did not account for skill, combat experience, adaptability, emotional control, or the refined use of abilities in real combat.
In other words, it was only a number.
A guideline created by the academy to give students a rough sense of comparison against possible threats.
Not an accurate reflection of survival.
Not a true measure of strength.
And definitely not enough to prepare them for real encounters with entities like Encantos or higher evolved beings.
Nille's expression tightened slightly as he reached this conclusion.
If not for the instructors intervening during the student engagement, many of the younger students would have already died. Their lack of real battlefield experience was obvious the moment actual pressure was applied.
The academy relied too heavily on structure.
Too heavily on tradition.
Knowledge was taught, yes, but application was limited.
Controlled environments replaced real danger.
And because of that, most students never truly learned how to survive outside predefined scenarios.
Even hunting, which was supposed to simulate real combat, remained too mundane and regulated to properly push their growth.
First-year and second-year students, in particular, were still unable to naturally refine or increase their spiritual energy through core absorption alone. Most of them relied on shamans or specialized artifacts to integrate Malignant cores into their systems, and even then, the process was incomplete.
Nille had seen it firsthand earlier.
Even some fourth-year students were harvesting Kobold cores using external tools, but the absorption efficiency barely reached ten percent. Their own cores had not yet fully evolved, limiting how much energy they could properly integrate.
In contrast, Nille's own system was different.
But that difference came with its own limitation.
Unlike many of them, he still could not freely cast spells in the traditional sense—no fluid incantations, no instant activation through spoken formulas. His abilities required structured focus, internal conversion, and reliance on Nyx's synchronization with the Celestial Cloth to stabilize output.
It made him slower in some aspects.
But more adaptable in others.
As he moved forward, he also realized something else more clearly.
Strength in this world was not just about power.
It was about refinement.
Experience.
And exposure to real death-level situations.
Without that, even strong numbers meant very little when faced with beings that did not follow academy rules or classifications.
Nille exhaled slowly, adjusting his pace as he continued deeper into the hunting zone.
The system around him was structured.
But incomplete.
While the third- and fourth-year students continued their hunt, Sector 6 remained far from safe even after the Kobolds retreated. The battlefield had only shifted, not calmed.
Scattered across the open grasslands and broken forest edges were other Malignant species waiting for opportunity.
Hellhounds moved in packs through the tall grass, their burning eyes tracking the scent of fresh blood. Direwolves prowled closer to the tree lines, their movements silent and patient, observing weakened targets. The fallen Kobolds had already begun attracting attention—blood and spiritual residue acting as a signal that rippled through the ecosystem.
In this place, death did not end a battle.
It invited more.
Smaller kills became bait for larger predators.
The weak did not rest.
They were consumed.
Even armored razorbacks, massive, tusk-lined beasts with hardened hides—emerged from underground burrows, drawn by the scent of carnage. Other evolved scavenger Malignants followed closely behind, each one shaped by the same brutal rule of this land:
survival through consumption.
Kill or be killed.
Eat or be eaten.
As the Lycan army slowly withdrew back toward their domain under King Lykos' command, the withdrawal itself created more openings in the battlefield. The sudden absence of overwhelming pressure allowed surrounding Malignants to sense opportunity.
And they responded immediately.
From every direction, creatures began moving toward the abandoned zones where combat had already weakened resistance. The battlefield was no longer a controlled engagement, it had become a feeding ground.
Meanwhile, Nille moved away from the main conflict zones and entered the deeper boundaries of the Ogre domain located within Sector 11.
Unlike the previous areas, this region carried a heavier, denser spiritual atmosphere. The land itself felt unstable, as though it had been shaped over time by repeated cycles of violence, recovery, and destruction.
Here, Malignants were not simply aggressive.
They were adaptive.
The Ogres and Trolls that inhabited this region were not known for speed like the Lycans, but for something far more dangerous in prolonged combat—regeneration.
Their bodies could recover from severe injuries at a frightening rate. Broken bones reformed. Deep wounds closed. Even lost flesh could slowly regenerate under sustained spiritual intake from the environment.
Because of this, most enemies found them difficult to kill through conventional means.
Even if one managed to overpower them, the battle rarely ended quickly.
And in extended fights, that regeneration became the greatest threat of all.
Nille observed the terrain carefully as he advanced, fully aware that this environment was fundamentally different from the earlier sectors. Here, hesitation would be punished far more severely than raw strength alone.
Nyx remained quietly active within the Celestial Cloth, continuously stabilizing his concealment and monitoring surrounding energy fluctuations.
Ahead, distant movements echoed through the forested slopes, heavy footsteps, shifting stone, and the slow, deliberate presence of large bodies moving through dense terrain.
Something had already noticed him.
Many possessed enhanced regenerative traits, faster healing factors, and unnatural survival instincts that allowed them to recover from injuries that would normally be fatal elsewhere.
Nille had chosen this place intentionally.
Not for safety.
But for growth.
If he was going to survive the world he was being pulled into, he could not rely on narrow encounters or controlled fights. He needed pressure that forced adaptation.
He needed situations where even survival was uncertain.
Nyx remained silent within the Celestial Cloth, observing his decision without interruption, only stabilizing his presence as he stepped deeper into Ogre territory.
Around him, distant roars echoed through the terrain.
Something large had already noticed his presence.
And unlike before, Nille did not immediately retreat.
He adjusted his stance slightly.
The Ogre did not attack.
Instead, it paused in the middle of its path and simply stood there, gripping the legs of a massive dead bear it had been dragging. After a moment, it continued walking—not toward Nille, but toward what seemed to be a nearby camp deeper within the Ogre territory.
Nille watched carefully, his body still tense.
For a brief second, he assumed this might be similar to King Lykos, a dominant but rational entity that would only engage if provoked.
Then his stomach gave a low, involuntary growl.
The sound was small, but in the quiet of the Ogre domain, it carried further than expected.
The Ogre immediately stopped.
Slowly, it turned its head.
Only then did Nille get a proper look at it.
It was not the typical brute-like creature he had expected. The Ogre stood tall and heavily built, but its physique was clearly defined by muscle rather than bulk. Its body carried a controlled strength rather than wild mass. Its skin was rough, but not grotesque, and its head was bald, marked by a long scar running from its forehead down to its chin.
Its eyes were calm.
Observant.
Almost human in awareness.
Nille instinctively shifted into a defensive posture.
At the same time, Nyx immediately activated camouflage and concealment layering within the Celestial Cloth, attempting to mask his presence completely.
But the Ogre did not move aggressively.
Instead, it spoke.
"That's a neat trick… but it's a waste of time."
Its voice was deep, steady, and surprisingly articulate.
It adjusted its grip on the bear carcass slightly, still not treating Nille as an immediate threat.
"Our kind have sensitive hearing."
A pause.
Then its gaze sharpened slightly.
"I can hear you are hungry and your mortal heart beating fast."
Another brief pause followed before it added, almost casually—
"And it's pretty loud."
The implication settled heavily in the air.
Nyx's concealment did not fail.
But it was also not absolute against beings of this type.
Nille remained still, carefully assessing the situation. The Ogre had neither attacked nor shown immediate hostility, but its awareness was undeniable.
It was not blind like the Malignants he had faced before.
It was aware.
And it was speaking to him as if he had already been fully detected from the beginning.
The Ogre rested the massive dead bear over one shoulder before looking back toward Nille again.
"If you came here to hunt my kind… then eat first."
Its deep voice remained calm and matter-of-fact.
"Killing you while you are weak and hungry would bring shame to my status."
Nille slowly removed Nyx's three-layered camouflage, allowing his figure to fully appear once more. The Celestial Cloth settled naturally around him as he studied the towering Ogre carefully.
Then he asked,
"You are a warrior?"
The Ogre immediately answered.
"No."
A brief pause followed before it continued.
"I am a hunter."
The distinction in its tone was deliberate.
The Ogre shifted the dead bear slightly before speaking again.
"Warriors fight for glory, pride, or honor."
"Hunters kill to survive."
Its eyes narrowed slightly as it glanced toward the distant forests surrounding Sector 11.
"Many evolved beings inside this isolated realm cling to old instincts and endless battle."
"But not all Malignants, as your kind call us, are beasts or ignorant creatures."
The Ogre's voice remained surprisingly composed.
"Like humans… we also evolve."
"Not only in strength."
"But in thought."
"In choice."
"In restraint."
Nille listened quietly.
The more the Ogre spoke, the more he realized how incomplete the academy's understanding of Malignants truly was. Most students only viewed them as dangerous creatures to exterminate, yet beings like King Lykos and this Ogre clearly possessed culture, awareness, and personal philosophy beyond simple survival instinct.
Seeing no malicious intent, Nille slowly lowered his guard and hid his weapon.
The Ogre noticed immediately.
Then, unexpectedly, it asked,
"Young warrior… do you wish to challenge me in a fight?"
Nille blinked once.
The Ogre gave a low grunt.
"If yes…"
It pointed toward the dead bear carcass casually.
"Better eat first."
For the first time in hours, Nille almost smiled slightly.
Not because the situation was amusing—
but because the Ogre's logic felt strangely straightforward.
Direct.
Honest.
And unlike many beings he had recently encountered, it carried no hidden manipulation beneath its words.
Nille studied the Ogre carefully before finally asking the question bothering him most.
"Why didn't you attack me?"
"I'm human after all."
The Ogre stared at him for several seconds.
Then it answered simply.
"Because your heartbeat sounds different."
Nille's eyes narrowed slightly.
The Ogre tapped its own chest.
"Your heart sounds like ours."
That single sentence immediately made something click inside Nille's mind.
The Drake Heart.
The draconic organ fused into his body.
That was the reason.
Not only had it altered his physical existence, it had also changed the way other evolved beings perceived him on an instinctive level.
Suddenly, many things started making more sense.
Why certain Malignants hesitated around him.
Why some Encantos reacted strangely to his presence.
And perhaps most importantly, why he could understand them in the first place.
Because technically, they were not even speaking normal human language.
Most Malignants and Encantos possessed their own ancient forms of communication tied to spiritual resonance, instinct, and conceptual understanding. Yet somehow, Nille consistently understood them naturally.
At first, he assumed it was normal because many Encantos in his homeland spoke Tagalog, Visaya, or other native Philippine languages after centuries of coexistence near human settlements.
But now, he realized something unsettling.
Some of these beings were not actually speaking human language at all.
His altered existence was simply allowing him to understand them automatically.
While the Ogre prepared the bear meat, Nille quietly sat a few feet away, observing everything carefully.
To his surprise, the Ogre handled the carcass with remarkable precision.
There was nothing savage or mindless about the process.
The massive creature carved through flesh, separated muscle, cleaned bone, and prepared the meat with the same methodical efficiency a trained human butcher would use. Every movement was controlled and practiced, showing years of experience rather than brute instinct alone.
The sight felt strangely normal despite the situation.
After a moment, Nille finally spoke.
"I'm Nille."
The Ogre glanced at him briefly while continuing to carve the meat.
"Eruko."
A heavy chopping sound echoed as he split through bone cleanly.
"My clan calls me Eruko the Hunter."
Now that Nille was seeing him clearly up close, Eruko's size felt even more overwhelming. The Ogre stood around ten feet tall with an upper body built like a silverback gorilla, dense layers of muscle packed beneath rough skin. His fists were enormous, large enough to almost cover Nille's entire face.
He looked less like a simple monster and more like something built specifically for overpowering enemies through raw physical force.
And yet his movements remained surprisingly calm.
The long scar running from his forehead down to his chin was highly noticeable, but Nille paid little attention to it. He himself carried scars across his own body. Without the Celestial Cloth protecting him in the past, some of those injuries would have crippled him permanently.
As Eruko continued preparing the meat, Nille finally asked,
"Do you know King Lykos?"
Eruko immediately snorted.
"Ah… so you even met Lykos."
A faint grin appeared on the Ogre's face.
"That warrior freak is painfully old-fashioned."
Nille blinked slightly at the casual description of the Lycan King.
Eruko continued while placing sliced meat over heated stone.
"Back when this realm was still whole, several of us evolved beyond ordinary Malignants and became… like this."
He gestured vaguely toward himself.
"Thinking beings."
"Not just creatures driven by hunger."
Nille listened closely, genuinely surprised by how naturally Eruko spoke about history and evolution.
Then suddenly, the Ogre looked directly at him.
"You were the one spying on me a few days ago near the riverside, weren't you?"
Nille stiffened slightly.
Eruko chuckled deeply.
"Relax. I won't attack you."
He shrugged casually.
"Even if that War Troll you killed was technically a distant cousin of ours."
The Ogre's expression became calmer afterward.
"Sadly… it never reached the level we did."
There was no hatred in his voice.
Only acceptance.
Then Eruko added something that immediately caught Nille's full attention.
"Lykos, myself… and a few others…"
The Ogre's eyes shifted briefly toward the distant skies above Sector 11.
"We once served one of the Six Great Spirits."
The atmosphere around the campfire suddenly felt heavier.
Nille immediately focused.
Because for the first time,
someone had casually mentioned another hidden layer of this world as though it were common knowledge.
Eruko slowly turned the roasting meat over the heated stone while the fire crackled quietly between them.
For a moment, the Ogre remained silent, as if deciding how much he should say.
Then he spoke again.
"Then the Seven Lesser Spirits came…"
His voice lost some of its casual tone.
"And they ruined everything."
Nille listened carefully.
"The Six Great Spirits were managing the realms peacefully back then," Eruko continued. "Each governed different domains under the authority of the Two Elder Spirits… and above even them existed the Infinite Will."
The way he said those names carried old reverence.
Ancient.
Heavy.
"The Six guided balance. Creation. Growth. Coexistence between mortals and supernatural beings."
Eruko gave a low grunt before suddenly laughing to himself.
"Sorry. I sound like an old storyteller."
He shook his head slightly.
"I rarely get the chance to actually have conversations anymore."
A faint bitterness lingered beneath the humor.
"Most mortals who enter these lands attack first before even trying to listen."
Nille glanced toward the long scar crossing Eruko's face.
"Was that scar made by a human?"
Eruko immediately shook his head.
"No."
His expression became quieter afterward.
"Back when the human realm and supernatural realms were still one world, the Six Great Spirits established their own territories while living in harmony with mortals."
"There was balance."
"Not peace entirely… but balance."
The Ogre's eyes darkened slightly.
"Then the Seventh Lesser Spirit appeared."
The fire crackled louder in the silence that followed.
"That spirit tricked a mortal woman into releasing the Seven Sins."
Nille's expression sharpened.
Eruko continued slowly.
"Wrath. Greed. Envy. Pride. Gluttony. Lust. Sloth."
"They were not emotions alone back then."
"They became living corruptions."
"And once released… they consumed mortals and spirits alike."
The atmosphere around the campfire grew noticeably heavier as Eruko spoke.
"Entire regions collapsed."
"Spirits devoured one another."
"Mortals turned against themselves."
"Even supernatural races began changing."
He looked toward the distant darkness beyond the camp.
"The world became war."
According to Eruko, the Six Great Spirits eventually fought against the spreading corruption alongside the Two Elder Primordial Spirits.
Two names survived from that era.
Uph Madac.
And Abo Natac.
"Those two used their power to create the Laws."
"The separation."
"The sealing."
"The isolation between realms."
Eruko gestured toward the sky.
"The supernatural realms were divided and hidden away from the human world."
"Boundaries were created."
"Domains were separated."
"And beings like us became trapped inside isolated territories."
Nille remained completely silent.
Because the more Eruko explained, the more the island itself stopped sounding like a simple cursed location, nd started resembling the remains of an ancient system created to contain something far larger than humanity understood.
Nille remained quiet for a moment before asking the question that had been lingering in his mind since Eruko mentioned the Six Great Spirits.
"Are King Lykos and the others you mentioned… like you?"
Eruko burst into a deep laugh as he finished rotating a large skewer of roasted bear meat over the fire.
"Like me?"
He snorted.
"No one likes anyone completely in these realms."
With one large hand, the Ogre pulled the cooked meat free from the fire and casually handed a massive portion to Nille.
Despite being called a "portion," the skewer was nearly the size of a human meal platter.
Nille accepted it openly without hesitation.
That alone seemed to amuse Eruko slightly.
The Ogre sat down across from him, the firelight reflecting across the scar running down his face while the two quietly ate in the middle of Ogre territory like travelers sharing a campfire rather than natural enemies.
After a while, the conversation shifted.
This time, Eruko became the one asking questions.
"Why did you come back here?" the Ogre suddenly asked.
"Most mortals who survive these realms once never return willingly."
Nille thought about the question carefully before answering.
"I inherited my great-grandmother's will."
Eruko listened silently.
"It wasn't forced on me," Nille continued. "I actually like being a shaman."
The answer made Eruko glance at him with visible curiosity.
Not suspicion.
Curiosity.
The Ogre leaned slightly forward before speaking again.
"You are strange for a mortal."
Nille raised an eyebrow slightly.
Eruko gave a low grunt.
"Most strong mortals who enter these lands come for one reason."
The Ogre's tone remained calm, but heavier now.
"To kill us."
He stabbed another piece of meat with a bone knife.
"To collect accomplishments."
"Titles."
"Recognition."
"Fame."
The fire crackled between them.
"Some call themselves heroes."
"Some call themselves protectors."
"Others simply enjoy the hunt."
Eruko's eyes remained fixed on the flames.
"But in the end… many of them stop seeing us as living beings."
A long silence followed.
Then the Ogre shrugged slightly.
"I do not entirely blame them."
"My kind has also killed many mortals."
"Many entered these realms and never returned."
"Many died screaming."
His voice did not carry pride.
Only acceptance.
"When you stand on the side receiving the blade… your view changes."
Nille listened quietly.
Eruko continued.
"Mortals call us monsters because they fear us."
"Malignants call mortals invaders because they fear them too."
The Ogre looked directly at Nille afterward.
"Most never try understanding the difference."
That single sentence lingered heavily in Nille's mind.
Because the more he traveled through the isolated realms, the more he realized the conflict between humans and Malignants was not as simple as the academy presented it.
There were beasts here.
There were monsters.
But there were also civilizations, histories, beliefs, and survivors trapped inside systems created long before modern shamans were even born.
And somewhere within all of it—
his own bloodline was connected far deeper than he originally thought.