Samael stared at the forest before him.
It was a sea of shadows, twisted trunks, and wrong silences—a place where unimaginable horrors lurked, patiently waiting for the first mistake.
Inside, there wasn't just one enemy.
There were many.
Countless.
The first of them—whatever it was—was already waiting.
And yet… Samael did not retreat.
On the contrary.
He was confident.
At the Academy, he had been among the three strongest Awakened of his generation. Even having lost to Leon didn't bother him as much as it should have—Leon was a monster shaped by absurd circumstances, soone educated flawlessly from birth, honed like a living weapon.
Samael was absolutely certain of one thing:
Even if what awaited him in the forest was an Awakened creature, he would win.
The problem was that he had forgotten an important detail.
Sunny and Nephis hadn't killed Nightmare creatures with ease simply because they were strong.
They fought together.
And both possessed Divine Aspects.
Samael took a deep breath.
There was no point thinking about that now.
He ntally prepared himself, crouching down to pick up a long, relatively sturdy branch from the ground. He turned it in his hands, testing its weight and improvised balance.
"Good enough…" he muttered.
Over the past month, he had tested his Aspect repeatedly. The more he understood it, the more he realized just how… unfair it was.
Simple.
Direct.
And absurdly useful.
He even felt a faint discomfort—almost guilt—for having complained so much about it in the beginning.
Its function was clear in his mind.
As long as sothing belonged to him, he could transform it into the weapon he desired.
The limitation lay in the material.
Mundane materials produced mundane results.
Technically, it shouldn't even be called a mory—after all, the lowest known rank was Dormant. And yet, he could create sothing anomalous:
Common objects.
Common weapons.
But with one absurd characteristic.
They could be stored in the user's soul.
An ordinary wooden spear… that appeared and disappeared like a mory.
That was the most basic level.
Level 1.
A weak enchantnt.
Nothing impressive.
But then ca the dangerous part.
The part that made his Aspect truly shine.
Emotional value.
If the transford object held aning for him, the weapon's level increased.
The stronger the emotional bond…
The higher the level.
The greater the enchantnts' power.
Without emotional value:
→ Level 1. A single weak enchantnt.
With strong emotional value:
→ Up to Level 7.
→ Seven enchantnts, all powerful.
Samael tightened his grip on the branch.
It held no emotional value at all.
Not yet.
But it would suffice as a start.
He took his first step toward the forest.
Bestial Reflexes reacted imdiately.
Sothing was hiding sowhere within the dense woods.
Samael focused on the stick in his hand.
For a brief mont, it glowed faintly… and vanished.
At the sa instant, the Spell echoed before him.
[Congratulations! You have acquired a mory.]
mory Na: Spear(Samael wasn't particularly creative—and he didn't have ti for it.)
mory Rank: Mundane(As expected.)
mory Level: 1(No surprise there.)
Enchantnt: OriginHaving been created at the place of its birth—from material to final form—this weapon is slightly sharper.
A faint smile appeared on Samael's face.
Finally—the part that interested him the most.
The description.
It wasn't written by the user, but by the Spell itself—and it often revealed important information.
Description:[A spear created from a simple branch, with nothing special about it, forged by the Honest Trickster in the dwelling place of the ancient king who resisted the Dream Realm.]
Samael's smile widened, though a chill ran down his spine.
"A king who resisted the Dream Realm…?" he murmured.
The forest, in response, remained silent.
Then—
The jungle ahead stirred.
The air grew heavy.
Looks like my predator lost its patience, Samael thought.
He summoned the newly created spear and assud a low stance, bending his knees. His body moved instinctively, almost animalistic. Trusting his senses—enhanced by his Attribute—he pinpointed the source of the threat.
And hurled the spear with all his strength.
The projectile sliced through the air and grazed the target.
In the next instant, his predator revealed itself.
Majestic.
Fast.
A gigantic serpent erged from the shadows, moving with phenonal speed—and it appeared completely unhard.
"Damn it…" Samael thought.
He tried to retreat, running behind a tree to limit the creature's field of vision.
But he wasn't used to the terrain.
Nor to his own female body—one month was far too little ti to adapt.
Under pressure, in an unfamiliar place, he made a fatal mistake.
His foot caught on a hidden branch.
He stumbled.
He had underestimated the Dream Realm.
And he would pay for it.
The serpent lunged.
In a blur of motion, it struck Samael with its head.
He raised his weapon instinctively, blocking the impact.
Even so, in his forr male body, he would have been sent flying.
Now, in a lighter body…
He was hurled against a tree.
His mind went blank for a mont.
His back burned.
The air was knocked out of his lungs.
The serpent began to circle him slowly.
Unlike Samael, the creature did not underestimate its prey.
"Damn it… what do I do?" he thought, feeling despair creep in.
He had no chance in that mont.
So he did what he did best.
Run.
Gathering the last of his strength, he sprinted toward the beach, seeking open ground—any advantage, any opening.
Luckily, he was close to the forest's edge.
And the earlier impact had thrown him even nearer to it.
When he turned to face the serpent again…
He saw sothing chilling.
The creature did not follow him.
It had stopped at the treeline.
Its body rigid, eyes fixed on the raging sea.
Afraid.
Wary.
After a few tense seconds, the serpent retreated.
Disappearing into the forest's shadows.
Samael remained still, staring at the scene in disbelief.
"…It ran away?" he murmured, his breathing still uneven.
The sea roared before him.
And for the first ti since arriving on the island, Samael felt sothing worse than fear.
A premonition.
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