"Argh... cough!"

  Arthur screamed in pain, his pupils contracting as he coughed up blood. Because his blood had splattered everywhere, it stained the invisible thing that had struck him, allowing him to partially see its shape.

  It looked like a thick, transparent spear extending toward the ceiling where the question mark was located. He didn't know exactly what it was, but he had no intention of letting it go that easily.

  He gritted his teeth hard, activating his "Regeneration" skill to its maximum. He tightened his remaining muscles around it, trying to pin it inside his body just as he had done with the tiger before—or at least, that was his plan.

  Unexpectedly, the opposite happened. The spear was the one that stuck to him and refused to let go; it was viscous and incredibly adhesive, like glue.

  Startled, he realized he was in deep trouble. He raised the paw of his healthy leg and swung his sharp claws, intending to sever the spear and break free.

  But before he could strike, the spear yanked him violently upward. His legs left the ground, and he lost his balance, missing his mark.

  Without panicking, he quickly corrected his posture and attacked again. This time he hit his target, which turned out to be as hard as metal—if not harder.

  Sparks flew, accompanied by a bit of strange blue liquid. The rigid spear turned soft and began to twist and vibrate, leaving Arthur dangling uncontrollably.

  At that moment, an angry snarl echoed from above. For a brief few seconds, the form of the monster that had attacked him appeared.

  It was a massive chameleon with a body made not of flesh, but of semi-transparent crystal. As for the thing he thought was a spear, it was actually its tongue.

  With its appearance, the information from the "Evaluation" skill changed, revealing the creature’s species and rank.

  [ D-Rank Silercyst ]

  Before Arthur could fully comprehend what he was seeing, the chameleon vanished again, as if it had never existed.

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  Its tongue regained its rigidity and slowly began retracting upward toward what seemed like nothingness, around which several rock bullets were forming

  And it wasn’t just that. Everywhere in the cave, hundreds of stone projectiles appeared, as if all the chameleon’s minions had united their attacks, determined to tear him to pieces.

  The rocks rained toward him like bullets, suspended in midair. He had no escape and could not dodge, yet he remained calm, as if he wasn’t about to die in the blink of an eye.

  In truth, he was desperate, and his mind raced through countless thoughts in that split second. He reached one conclusion: a desperate man has nothing to lose. It was impossible to leave this place alive—or at least, impossible to leave it intact.

  He had no choice but to sacrifice himself again. This time, a part of his body might not recover.

  Without a trace of regret, hesitation, or sorrow, he bit his shoulder and tore his leg free from the chameleon’s clinging tongue, falling to the ground.

  Just millimeters above his head, the rocks shot past so fast that the air screamed. As soon as his hind legs touched the ground, he limped and ran toward the exit.

  As for the leg that remained stuck to the chameleon’s tongue, it was pulled upward, and when it reached the ceiling, it vanished

  Despite his injuries and the pain, and the barrage of attacks coming at him one after another, he managed to escape.

  As soon as he entered the narrow, dark passage, he turned and looked back, his eyes burning with rage. Deep inside, he swore he would return one day to take his revenge.

  Defeated, battered, and wounded, he limped forward. He didn’t think, didn’t speak a word, only followed the breeze. Eventually, he saw some light and found the exit.

  When he reached it, he stood before a high cliff. Below him, the forest stretched endlessly. In the distance, the sun rose on a new day. Along with it, the system notification appeared:

  [Alert]

  [ Full Moon Frenzy effect has ended ]

  Arthur collapsed to the ground, exhausted, panting like a lone warrior who survived the battlefield—or more accurately, like a lone wolf facing the world.

  He stared at the distance he could not reach, and his consciousness slowly drifted toward sleep. A small smile appeared on his face before he lost consciousness.

  Time passed quickly. The sun climbed high in the sky, then set on the other side, followed by a moonless, dark night, with only the stars decorating the sky.

  …

  On the morning of the third day, Arthur finally opened his eyes—not by choice or desire, but because his senses warned him of a looming danger.

  The first thing he saw were massive eagle talons, like scythes, lunging toward him. Despite being literally broken and barely conscious, he rolled across the ground and dodged the attack.

  At that moment, his mind cleared, and he got a good look at the eagle that had landed beside him. It looked like the legendary Rocs he had read about in his world; it was so massive that the tunnel could barely contain it.

  The eagle glanced at him with a cold stare, then flapped its wings and flew away. It knew there was no point in attacking again, as the terrain was not in its favor.

  Arthur let out a long sigh, his tensed body relaxing. He continued to lie in place, doing nothing for several minutes.

  When he finished his silent mourning for himself, he stood up on his three legs and stared at what remained of his fourth with a blank expression. Then, he broke the silence and asked:

  "System, if the Regeneration skill evolves to D-Rank, will I be able to regrow my leg?"

  The Regeneration skill was his only hope. If it couldn't help him, he would be forced to adapt to his new situation.

  For a predator, losing a limb was a death sentence; however, Arthur didn't care. What happened had happened, and he had done what he did. Regret wasn't even an option.

  The System remained silent for a short while, then the blue screen appeared, bearing somewhat good news:

  [ Yes, but this process will take a long time—at least a few months. ]

  "I see." Arthur nodded without showing any clear expression. He didn't feel happy or relieved. It wasn't because he was depressed, angry, or pitying himself; he simply couldn't feel anything at this moment, as if he were an extinguished candle with no warmth or light.