Death hung in the air.

  Several tightly packed, powerful auras clashed in a bloody battle.

  The air was thick, as if the world itself had held its breath, waiting for the next corpses — and there were plenty in this wilderness.

  Should I sneak past? Go around them? Or were these just bandits attacking travelers?

  The woman’s scream from moments ago wouldn’t leave my mind. It pounded in my head like a blacksmith’s hammer striking an anvil. Could these be the first humans I’d encounter in this world? Maybe even summoned from Earth!?

  After devouring the boar, I felt stronger. If things took a turn for the worse, I could always run. Besides, absorbed in battle, they wouldn’t sense my carefully hidden aura — the one I had spent months perfecting.

  It was made for moments like this.

  I acted swiftly. I didn’t bother sneaking. I climbed the hill so that only my heads protruded — to my left, my companion growled, excited and consumed by the prospect of potential combat.

  I could feel the tension flowing through every muscle. I could feel the blood surging through my veins, a primal hunger making my senses sharp, my body taut like a drawn bow.

  I saw seven people standing in a semicircle — lightly armored, their faces hidden. Behind them lay three dead bodies in the grass — most likely their allies, their blood still dark, unabsorbed by the soil. They were surrounding a strangely pale girl with white hair, holding a blood-stained sword. She looked like a desperate aristocrat cornered by bloodthirsty bandits — unwavering, determined to fight.

  Should I make myself the hero?

  It was clear: every world is cruel, and this one was no exception.

  The seven charged. A tall man thrust his spear; the girl parried with her sword, lunged forward, and struck down from above. The blade missed his head by mere millimeters. Two fired crossbows; one shot whizzed just past her neck, another struck her thigh. She stumbled to one knee under the impact.

  I hesitated. Their levels were unlike anything I had encountered before. If I step in, there’s no turning back. I can’t run from them…

  [Species: Human]

  [Evolution Stage: Sword Path Warrior]

  [Level: 34]

  [Threat: HIGH]

  Then I saw an explosion of dark aura around her. The girl cloaked herself in a shadowy mist, bending low and appearing suddenly behind the crossbowman, slashing twice across his chest. A bloody cross formed as he collapsed to the ground.

  A black humanoid monster erupted from his body, striking two shield bearers nearby, tearing open a space in the formation. Screams and yells, steel clashing, blood and death — chaos reigned.

  I had never seen such controlled fury, such brutal precision. Her movements were not a dance but a calculated march through the storm of blades, parrying, evading, countering with cold efficiency.

  Even a masterful swordswoman eventually faltered. Three of the attackers shredded the monster into pieces until it melted like wax in fire. One hurled a spear at the girl, taking advantage of her slight misstep on a protruding root, striking her side with the full weight of his axe. Only the impact of the axe handle against her sword saved her life. Blow after blow came, yet she endured, finally driving her blade into his throat.

  Blood sprayed like crimson rain. I saw her final surge of strength. Even the monster did not reappear atop the corpse. She was at her limit. The others exploited it without mercy, never allowing her a breath. Behind her, a roaring river; ahead, five skilled warriors poised to crush anything in their path.

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  I made my decision. Maybe stupid one. But mine.

  Not out of mercy. Not out of kindness. Out of fury. Fury at myself.

  It wasn’t for nothing that Zod had recognized my courage and granted me a blessing. I believed in it now — too much, perhaps. I would not cower. I was no longer the weakling from my previous life.

  I surged forward, my entire body coiling like a living weapon. The ground trembled beneath my weight. The second head bared its fangs and roared. A wave of sound erupted from us, scattering the bandits, breaking their formation.

  I lunged at the first of them — a burly swordsman with an oval shield.

  He blocked my impact, dodged my venomous strike, and ripped the second head along the neck. He howled in rage.

  “Adam, set it aflame! Hydras are vulnerable to fire!” one of them shouted. Amid the chaos, the smallest muttered an incantation under his breath, sending sparks flying. At the same moment, the spearman — a big one at that— struck me with a foul-smelling paste, engulfing half of my body in fire!

  “Damn beast! Where did this lizard come from?!” the spearman roared, striking at my side.

  It felt as if molten iron drove through my bones.

  A few steps away, the white-haired girl battled a giant with a black braid, whose hammer swing could crush a boulder in one blow.

  “Adam, watch—” the second crossbowman shouted, but it was too late.

  She drove her blade through him, straight through the heart, decapitating him with a second strike. He tumbled across the grass, leaving a trail of red. She melted into the mist again, closing the distance to the fire-user, kicking him with her heel, evading a thrust, slicing him clean in half — her face and hair now streaked crimson.

  Excruciating pain, relentless attacks from steel, madness in their eyes — no trace of fear.

  Three foes remained: the spearman, likely their leader; a skilled swordsman with a shield; and a giant thug in mail with a padded hood wielding a hammer.

  The swordsman attacked from the right as the spearman maneuvered to flank me, giving me no respite. Even my thick hide barely dulled the pain. I couldn’t bite or strike with venom; they always kept out of reach of my tail.

  They were seasoned hunters of hydras. I felt death approaching.

  Rage boiled in me. I surrendered to fury, letting it consume every fiber of my body. My eyes darkened to red, heat radiating from my skin. I moved with the raw, unrestrained violence of a predator.

  Bite, dodge, spin, strike with my spiked tail!

  The swordsman’s shield shattered. Their strikes faltered as two went on the defensive. Every step sent pain coursing through my bones, my hearts threatening to explode. I had never fought anyone so strong. I regretted being here — and yet could not stop.

  Fury carried me forward for what felt like an eternity. I, barely level 18, held my own against foes of level 34 and 36, resisting their blows, their tactics, their will.

  I lunged at the spearman, claws slashing at his face. He howled, staggering backward, spears clattering.

  “Accursed monster! Taste humanity’s might!”

  He hurled grenades and leapt back, drinking from vials to restore his strength. I could only feel the pain and the rage, my body moving beyond control, surviving by instinct.

  The battle raged. The fire on my body waned, leaving me scorched and vulnerable. The second head lost momentum. I saw the swordsman close in, a clean strike almost decapitating it. Panicking, I turned recklessly. The spearman grinned beneath his mask. My claw missed. The spear pierced my chest. My heart faltered…

  Never had I felt such terror. True panic, impossible speed of strikes, disorientation. Even while using Berserker's Fury I was no match for them. Truly they were the real monsters!

  I guess this is what real combat looks like. This is what being a warrior means.

  I saw the second head dangling by the last muscle fibers, watching the white-haired girl pierce the giant’s chest, felling him.

  Then cold steel pressed against my neck. I felt myself hurled through the air.

  Lying on the grass, motionless, I sensed dozens of souls rushing from the south. Goblin arrows pierced the swordsman and spearman alike. The girl, staggering on her feet and supported by goblins, decapitated the swordsman.

  Dozens of small warriors swarmed the spearman from every side. A familiar voice — a small girl named Gege — rang in my ears.

  “Daddy, watch out!”

  I had no idea what was happening. My body felt like a severed head in a pool of blood, hearing only the screams and rage of a man stabbed from all sides.

  The last words I caught were the groans and threats of the defeated spearman toward the bloodied girl, her blade pressing against his throat.

  “Impudent slut! My guild will avenge me! Do you know who my brother is!? You will regret—”

  Then came the merciless sound of a thrust. Blood sputed. Goblins growled above me.

  The world turned dark… silent…