Vol3 Chapter 37 Closer

Scrape.

Amos stopped.

His sharp hearing instantly picked it up. Something had shifted nearby. He turned his head toward the left corridor. Nothing there.

Amos's sword was already halfway out of its sheath.

A shape suddenly burst from the ceiling.

He twisted aside.

BOOM!

The creature crashed into the floor where he’d just been, sending shards of ancient stone skittering down the corridor.

Clang!

The creature recoiled. Amos took several steps backward.

Another one.

But this wasn’t the same creature. Its body was thin and stretched, almost insect-like, with four unnaturally long limbs bracing it against the floor. Its skin looked nearly translucent, pulled taut over a frame of dark bone. There were no eyes, no nose, no mouth—yet its whole form shifted to face Amos.

You can sense me.

The creature lunged, but Amos sidestepped just in time. A claw ripped through the stone wall where he’d been a moment before. He struck back quickly, slicing across one of its limbs. The creature hissed—a strange sound, somewhere between a growl and a scream—before retreating into the darkness. Amos didn’t follow. He stood still, listening.

Where?

Nothing.

His enhanced hearing searched the surrounding corridors.

Then—

Above.

Another creature dropped from the ceiling, and he drove his sword upward, the blade sinking into its chest. It convulsed, dark fluid dripping over the steel. Amos kicked it back and yanked his weapon free. The body hit the ground with a thud. He stared at it—it wasn’t like the first one. Not at all.

So there are more.

A rustle sounded behind him. Amos spun around, and three more creatures emerged from the shadows.

"...Of course."

They charged at the same time. Amos disappeared, his form a blur as he slipped between them. A claw swiped past, missing his face by an inch. His sword sliced clean through its torso, and he spun on his heel.

A second creature lunged, but he ducked under it, slamming his elbow into its ribs before slicing upward.

The third one tried to slip around behind him. Amos sensed the vibrations under his feet and spun just in time to block the attack, his sword clashing against its claws.

CLANG!

The blow sent Amos stumbling back a few steps. Strong. Very strong. But still manageable. He pressed forward, driving his blade harder. The creature’s arm split under the strike, dark fluid splattering across the floor. It recoiled, and Amos ended it with a thrust to the throat. The others froze, uncertainty in their movements, as Amos fixed his gaze on them.

They stared back.

Then they retreated.

They're learning.

It was becoming a pattern. The creatures here weren’t mindless—they watched, learned, adapted. And now, they were coming for him. Amos glanced down at the bodies, his expression shifting slowly.

Why?

He’d been wandering the ruin for a while before this. Until now, with the Veil Ring on, he’d only run into a single creature. But the moment he took it off— they started showing up. One after another. His gaze shifted to the faint glow of mana clinging to him. His own mana. The lingering traces of his magic.

...Could they be attracted to it?

Amos stood silently.

The idea made sense. Maybe these monsters couldn’t perceive natural mana simply because none existed here. But that didn’t mean they were unable to sense mana at all. Perhaps they could pick up on foreign mana—something introduced into their environment, something that didn’t belong.

My mana signature.

He glanced at his hand as mana swirled around his fingers. Almost instantly, something stirred in the darkness. Amos’s eyes darted toward it. One shape emerged, then another, and his expression hardened.

Definitely.

He let the mana flow, and the creatures started to approach, as if drawn by a scent. Amos quickly snuffed out the spell, and the creatures froze in place. His eyes narrowed.

Interesting.

He waited.

Nothing.

Then, with intention, he sent out another small pulse of mana.

The creatures reacted instantly.

This time, quicker.

They're attracted to mana.

That explained why they were here now.

But—

A sudden thought hit him.

He glanced toward the corridor behind him, his mind flashing back to the first creature—

the pale, stone-skinned monster that had attacked him before he’d taken off the Veil Ring.

Amos’s expression grew steadily more serious.

Wait.

He was still wearing the ring when the creature found him. The Veil Ring had been masking his mana signature, and he’d barely released any magic before the fight broke out.

So—

How did it find me?

That was the problem.

If these monsters were attracted to mana, then the first creature shouldn't have been able to detect him so easily.

Unless—

It wasn't sensing my mana.

A shiver ran down his spine. The first creature had tracked him even with his mana signature hidden, which meant it had relied on something else entirely.Sound?

Smell?

Vibration?

Heat?

Sight?

Or maybe it was something he hadn’t even thought of. Amos’s grip on his sword tightened. The creature had acted differently this time. It hadn’t rushed at him right away—it had watched, tested, adapted. It knew the sword was dangerous. And somehow, it had found him, Veil Ring or not.

So, there are two possibilities.

Either that creature just so lucky to stumbled upon him.

Or—

They can detect something other than mana.

Amos peered into the darkness, the ruin seeming to stretch wider, more menacing. He’d believed taking off the Veil Ring would make it easier for the monsters to track him, but now he wasn’t so sure. Maybe the ring had only concealed one danger, while something else had been revealing him all along.

A faint scraping echoed from ahead, and Amos spun toward it.

Nothing.

No mana.

No footsteps.

No vibration.

No scent.

His eyes narrowed.

There.

For the briefest moment, something flickered at the edge of his sight. Amos drew his sword without pause. One creature stepped into view, then another, and soon three more followed. Different forms, different shapes, each moving in its own strange way—yet all of them closed in on him. Amos let out a slow, steady breath.

"...So much for avoiding them."

He dropped into a ready stance as the creatures suddenly charged. Amos met them head-on, not caring what they were or how they managed to survive in a place without natural mana. He could worry about that later.

Right now, there was only one thing that mattered is the A-rank team. He cut down the first creature.

Find them.

He slipped past the second.

Make sure they’re alive.

His sword flashed once more.

Then regroup with the Blue Wolfs.

***

The last creature collapsed.

Amos pulled his sword free and let the body drop to the floor without a glance. He didn’t bother to check it, didn’t even look back. Another wave followed the last, then another after that. Some skittered along the walls, others dropped from the ceiling, and some slipped out of the darkness in silence until they were close enough to strike. They came in all shapes and sizes, each with its own way of attacking. But they all had one thing in common.

None of them possessed a detectable natural mana signature and none is vulnerable of magic.

Amos had sliced through each of them with ease. His breathing stayed calm, but his face showed a growing irritation.

Enough.

He wiped the dark fluid from his blade and slid it back into its sheath.

This was starting to feel like a waste of time.

The monsters weren’t much trouble on their own, and even groups of them were manageable for Amos.

But that wasn’t the issue.

Every fight ate up time.

Every fight drained his energy.

And every fight raised the chances of something going wrong.

More importantly—

The A-rank team is still somewhere ahead.

Amos stared into the darkness, faint traces of their mana still hanging in the air—and that was all that mattered. He’d already learned everything he needed from the monsters.

They were odd, able to sense mana and, in some cases, detect him through other means. He decided he could look into all of that later.

If there is a later.

Amos immediately dismissed the thought.

No.

The A-rank team arrived first, every second counting. Amos cast one last glance at the bodies strewn across the corridor.

I don't have the time to fight every monster that notices me.

His gaze shifted back to the mana traces ahead, senses sharpened and scanning the darkness. He no longer paused at every disturbance—if a creature crossed his path, he simply cut it down and moved on.

One strike.

Two at most.

A creature crawled out from the wall, and Amos’s sword flashed. Its head hit the ground before its body was fully free. He kept moving. Something dropped from above, but he sidestepped without breaking stride. His blade swept back, slicing the creature clean in two. Another appeared from a side corridor. Amos sped up. It lunged, claws outstretched, but he slipped beneath them and slashed its leg as he passed. It collapsed behind him. He never looked back. Keep moving.

The A-rank team's tracks were growing clearer. That was a good sign. They were closing in—or at least, the trail was getting fresher.

They're definitely ahead.

He quickened his pace once more, the ancient corridors rushing past in a blur. His breathing stayed steady, his senses reaching as far as they could.

I need to reach them.