Awakened: SSS Ranked Soul king

Chapter 2 Gamble with your life

—clink

—click

The sound of metal plates being fastened echoed in the stillness of the pine forest. A young man with dark hair hurriedly secured pieces of armor onto his body, his movements tense and deliberate.

Once he was fully armored, he crouched over the lifeless figure sprawled in a pool of blood before him, rummaging through the body with steady hands.

"Hmm, I guess this will have to do," he muttered, retrieving a sharp, curved dagger from the corpse's scabbard.

The heir of the Blackberry family lay motionless, pale as a ghost. Blood loss had claimed his life, and with it, his possessions. In this world, property of the dead was fair game, and the young man had no qualms about taking it.

—ROAR!!!

A feral bellow shattered the silence behind him, and he turned to face the source of the sound with a weary expression. The battle was nearly over; the last remnants of the hunting party had been slain by the beast.

(They didn't last as long as I thought they would,) the young man mused, his lips curling in a faint smirk.

He straightened his posture, fixing his gaze on the monstrous direwolf that loomed ahead. Despite having multiple opportunities to flee—from the initial attack to this very moment—he remained.

Why would he run? He wanted to be here.

Yes, this frail-looking slave boy had come to this clearing with purpose. Though his family had sold him into slavery, he viewed his new life not as a death sentence but as an opportunity.

Rumors about the Blackberry family hunting a grade-three sacred direwolf were true, and he had seized the chance to be part of it. Now, the beast stood battered and on the brink of death, a shadow of its former might.

—grip

The young man tightened his hold on the dagger, his knuckles whitening as he lowered himself into a crouched stance.

Then, without hesitation—

—woosh

He darted forward, angling to the left—the wolf's blind spot. His body remained low to the ground, a blur of motion as he reached for a discarded spear lying nearby.

With a deft motion, he hurled the spear into the air, aiming directly for the direwolf's ear.

—whiff

The wolf, weakened and distracted, howled in agony as the spear pierced its ear canal. Its howl faltered, replaced by an eerie silence as its hearing dulled.

Beasts.

In this world, creatures of unparalleled strength ruled the lands. From dense forests to arid deserts, monstrous beings prowled every corner, their power a constant threat.

Host has Awakened

Uploading stats...

Name: Gilliaman

Rank: Level 1

Affinity: ?? ?? ??

Agility: 15 Power: 20 Stamina: 25]

The notification echoed in his mind as a faint glow surrounded his body. After years of struggling as a mere mortal, Gilliaman had finally crossed the threshold.

He was a Slayer.

In his previous life, he had never been granted this chance before his world had been destroyed. Now, with his newfound strength, he vowed to take revenge and carve his name into history.

[Ding, Beast Echo Found: Wind Fang Blade

Wind Fang Blade: the wind fire wolf is in charge of all wind elements thats exist around it, able to bend it to its own will

[Effect: Gale Slash]

[Gale slash: (Unleashes a sharp wind wave, dealing 130% weapon attack to enemies in a straight line. Cooldown: 10 seconds.)]

A radiant light appeared before him, coalescing into a blade suspended in midair. The dagger gleamed, its edge shimmering with an ethereal glow.

This was a Beast Echo.

With it, his power would grow exponentially.

But Gilliaman wasn't finished. Rising to his feet, he stepped back toward the direwolf's corpse.

Grunting, he wrenched his dagger free from the beast's skull. Dark blood dripped from the blade, pooling at his feet as he stared down at it.

"I hope this works," he murmured, voice trembling with a mix of hope and fear.

The blood began to glow faintly, its shimmer spreading across the blade's surface. The air grew heavy, crackling with unseen energy.

Gilliaman took a deep breath, steadying his racing heart.

This was his gamble. The start of his path.

And there was no turning back.