Chapter 32
The Feather Forest was still and quiet, nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. However, the breeze that flowed throughout the canopy, and through the leaves of the trees were still wrought with cold dead air. A great howl pierced the silence — the horrid cry of a wolf. Its silhouette could be seen as it darted through the greens with it’s speed of light lightning. A sword cut through the howl, and shimmered brightly in the darkness, much like how lightning cuts through the sky, it then shot straight for the large wolf’s head. Seeing a great flash coming its way, the wolf yelped, the light from the sword revealed its face of terror.

The wolf was large, much like a camel, it’s maw ripened with fresh blood. Besides that, its spine was covered in bristles, terrible, terrible spikes of death. A common fighter would have screamed at the sight of the beast for it was no ordinary wolf, it was a Direwolf, a tier-two beast of the Forest. It was not to be underestimated. Even an Agility fighter would face troubles interacting with such a beast. In spite of everything, the Direwolf did not carry any malice or hunting intent, instead it carried fear, deep primal fear.

The wolf let out a yelp as the blade pierced its gut, and lodged deep into its insides. A great spray of blood came out from its wound, then covered the surrounding area in shades of crimson. It was an instantaneous kill!

Soon after, a young man approached the carcass, revealing himself from the trees. He was skinny and held a longsword in his hand. He did not look weak, nor did he look strong, in fact he looked quite average. Despite that, his eyes glowed faintly, letting others know not to cross him.

Zephyr did not feel like himself. He felt different, much different than before. During the past, he had felt himself improve, yet remained the same, but now, things were different. His eyes told of a man who was calm, yet decisive. His posture showed his stoicism and maturity. Zephyr stared at the mangled carcass of the wolf, and shook his head with a sigh. ‘I still lack the bite to it, but I guess I can make up for it with training. My Seven-Cut technique coupled with my Focus should allow me to defeat any challenger anyway,’ thought Zephyr, unsatisfied at his kill. Even though he had just killed a tier-two beast instantaneously, Zephyr knew it was not enough. If anyone had heard him, not only would they roll their eyes at his claim, they might even give him a slap or two.

Zephyr’s Seven-Cut technique was borrowed from his previous life, a powerful skill he had learned before. This is especially so when one can consider the Focus he has now, paired with his previous technique, Zephyr could send heads flying.

Zephyr had stayed in the Forest for about half a month now, and has fought a new, strange beast almost every day to test himself, his power, his level. Even though it had been just two weeks, Zephyr had risen far beyond his previous level. “Damn it, if only I had a better sword than this!” Zephyr sighed as he stared at the ordinary longsword in his palm. He shook his head in disappointment. Zephyr had found this blade in the Forest, an ordinary sword, a dilapidated one at that. Zephyr reckoned there was not much use left out of it. ‘I should be an Agility fighter by now… I’ve trained for a month or so, and my powers are evident from it!’ thought Zephyr. His stomach let out a low grumble. Zephyr had cut out some meat from the wolf and set it aflame. It was not long before a nice, toasty smell came wafting his way…

Elsewhere in the Forest, a silhouette can be seen running frantically through the trees. It was clear that the person was escaping into the Feather Forest, face full of panic, clothes tattered and torn, body full of scars. Blood streaked everywhere following the silhouette.