Chapter 27: A New Threat...?
Afternoon sunlight filtered through the forest as Atlas walked back toward Ormolio alone.
Cold wind brushed against his black hood, and faint blood stains remained across parts of his dark attire from the Veil-Class Ruin. His appearance looked rough, but his movements had changed.
Spirit Tails continued affecting him passively.
It was not active like a technique. The Trait adjusted his balance, movement rhythm, and Spirit flow naturally, as if his body now had an additional system correcting excess force before it became obvious.
Earlier, Spirit amplification had felt unstable.
Too explosive.
Too difficult to guide.
Now the amplification still felt strong, but more balanced. Atlas was not skilled yet, but the Trait reduced the gap between his intent and his movement.
That alone made the assimilation worth it.
Atlas flexed his fingers while walking.
’So Traits are not techniques.’
His eyes narrowed beneath the hood.
’They evolve the body itself.’
That conclusion carried more weight than he liked.
One Trait had already changed his movement foundation. If he kept assimilating more, the line between human body and monster traits would continue blurring. Atlas did not know where that path ended.
He pushed the thought aside for now and continued toward Ormolio.
Several hours later, the city appeared ahead.
The streets were crowded as usual. Merchants shouted through busy roads, explorers moved between shops, and material carriers dragged carts filled with monster parts. Atlas entered beneath his hood, but this time, some gazes lingered longer than before.
Not because of his face.
Because of the materials wrapped behind his back.
Large claws.
Fangs.
D-Rank monster parts.
Things ordinary rookies did not usually carry alone.
Atlas noticed the attention immediately.
Attention was dangerous.
He went straight to the old merchant shop.
The old man behind the counter looked up lazily at first.
Then froze.
"...What the hell?"
Atlas placed the wrapped cloth on the counter.
The old merchant opened it and immediately stiffened.
"Ashclaw Ripper claws...?"
His voice lowered.
"And..."
His eyes widened faintly.
"Greg’s Fang Lynx fangs?"
Silence filled the shop for a moment.
The old man slowly looked up at Atlas.
"You hunted these yourself?"
Atlas remained quiet for a few seconds.
Then answered calmly.
"...I was lucky."
The old man clearly did not believe him.
Luck did not kill monsters like these, especially not cleanly enough to preserve valuable parts. But experienced merchants knew better than to dig too deeply into an explorer’s secrets.
He examined the materials again and exhaled.
"These are in excellent condition."
His gaze lingered on the Spirit-made fangs.
"I’ll give you fifty-three gold."
Atlas paused inwardly.
Fifty-three gold.
That much money could support a slum family for months.
Outwardly, his expression remained hidden beneath the hood.
"...Deal."
The old merchant handed over a heavy pouch, and Atlas stored it before leaving.
The Ruin Explorer Guild remained crowded even during the afternoon.
Explorers entered and exited beneath the golden insignia while the main hall carried its usual noise of missions, arguments, and payment disputes. Atlas stepped inside calmly.
Several nearby explorers glanced toward him.
Whispers spread.
"The hooded rookie again..."
"Isn’t that the guy entering Veil-Class ruins alone?"
"Again?"
Atlas ignored them and walked toward the reception counter.
The same receptionist noticed him and smiled politely.
"You returned safely again."
Atlas placed the rune sphere onto the counter.
"I found this."
The receptionist blinked, then picked it up carefully.
"Oh?"
Spirit fluctuations moved faintly around the sphere.
"...Please wait a moment."
This time, she called for someone else.
A middle-aged man approached from another section of the Guild. A silver monocle-like relic rested over one eye, and faint Spirit Energy pulsed from it continuously.
A relic evaluator.
He took the sphere and examined it through the monocle.
Several seconds passed.
Then he spoke.
"...Echo Sphere."
Atlas listened quietly.
"A Common-to-Uncommon grade relic."
The sphere pulsed faintly in his palm.
"It slightly distorts the Spirit flow of one target for approximately five seconds. In simple terms, it weakens the target temporarily."
He lifted one finger.
"Only one target at a time."
Then another.
"And it can only be used twice per week before requiring recharge."
Atlas’s eyes narrowed slightly.
"Recharge?"
The evaluator nodded.
"The Guild can recharge Spirit relics."
Then he added calmly:
"...For ten gold each time."
Atlas understood immediately.
Useful.
But expensive.
Relics were not simple tools. Even after obtaining one, maintenance and usage limits mattered.
The evaluator placed the sphere back onto the counter.
"Current estimated value..."
He paused briefly.
"...Thirty-eight gold."
Atlas nodded quietly.
Acceptable.
Not close to Condor’s Locket, but still valuable.
Then the receptionist spoke again.
"Oh, right. We also need your Guild Card."
Atlas handed over the black metallic plate.
She placed it onto a glowing Spirit platform beneath the counter, and faint runes lit across its surface.
Her eyes widened slightly.
"...You completed multiple Veil-Class missions alone?"
Atlas remained silent.
The receptionist quickly composed herself and smiled professionally.
"Congratulations."
She lifted the Guild Card.
"Your Explorer Rank has officially advanced to D-Rank."
Atlas accepted the card.
The silver markings across the black plate had changed subtly.
D-Rank.
Officially.
Nearby explorers glanced toward him with surprise. A rookie reaching D-Rank this quickly was uncommon, especially while working alone.
The receptionist placed another pouch onto the counter.
"And since you completed Guild-issued exploration missions successfully, you have received twenty gold as Guild compensation."
Atlas accepted it.
His current wealth had already reached a level the old version of himself would have considered impossible.
But he felt almost nothing toward it.
Money mattered only because it created options.
Options meant distance.
Distance meant survival.
Night gradually descended over Ormolio.
The city lights illuminated the streets, and distant voices echoed outside the Golden Inn as Atlas entered his room and locked the door.
Only then did he sit heavily on the bed.
Exhaustion spread through him.
Not from injuries.
From stamina.
His strength was overwhelming compared to Veil-Class monsters, and Spirit Tails had improved his control, but prolonged combat still drained him too quickly. His body had enough power to end fights fast, but not enough endurance to keep pushing without consequence.
Atlas understood the problem immediately.
His physical power had risen ahead of his stamina.
Without wasting time, he spoke.
"Originate."
Crimson light emerged.
The Bloodbound Codex manifested from his chest, and the room temperature dropped faintly. Atlas opened the first page.
His gaze moved to the stat section.
[ Stamina: 6 ]
He observed it for a few seconds, then grabbed the Sanguis Stylus.
Without hesitation, he wrote:
7
The previous value distorted and faded.
The new value settled into place.
[ Stamina: 7 ]
Warmth spread through Atlas’s body.
Unlike Strength, the change did not feel explosive. It was smoother, more stable, and his exhausted muscles relaxed as the lingering fatigue lessened.
Atlas exhaled quietly.
"...Much better."
Strength alone meant nothing without endurance to support it.
Then he turned to the Trait page.
[ Trait ]
The remaining Traits pulsed beneath the crimson glow.
[ Spirit Horn — Rank-E ]
[ Spirit Poison — Rank-D ]
[ ??? — Rank-??? ]
[ Spirit Claw — Rank-D ]
[ Spirit Fang — Rank-D ]
They almost looked alive, as if waiting to be assimilated.
Atlas stared at them for a while before sighing softly.
"Hah..."
His voice echoed faintly in the room.
"I’ll have to assimilate them tomorrow in the ruin..."
Doing it inside the city still felt too dangerous.
Atlas closed the Codex.
"Terminate."
The crimson book dissolved and sank back into his chest.
Silence returned.
Atlas lay down on the bed, and exhaustion gradually overtook him.
Within minutes, he fell asleep.
Completely unaware that tomorrow would bring something far beyond a simple Veil-Class Ruin.
Because far from Ormolio, an Abyss-Class exploration had gone terribly wrong.
And now—
the monsters inside had escaped.
