From the entrance of Mal's forge-cave, he had a clear view of several glowing beacons scattered across the forest. The nearest was a vibrant green, pulsing faintly in the distance—no more than a thirty-minute hike, by his estimation.
With the decision made, and his supplies running low, Mal knew exactly where he needed to head—the glow of the beacon was a clear invitation.
Mal now wore lighter gear—his old armor had been too damaged to salvage, so he melted it down and repurposed the metal into a compact forging hammer, perfectly balanced for his work.
[Basic Blacksmith Hammer – Common]: A simple yet dependable tool, forged by a novice blacksmith. Ideal for correcting imperfections during forging. Increases the success rate of crafting attempts when used in the forging process.
The shield had been repurposed—transformed into a makeshift bellows that fed air into the forge with surprising efficiency.
So, as Mal set off toward the beacon, he carried a hammer and a slightly crooked sword.
He wore a dark blue tunic, its fabric rugged from use, reinforced by a few salvaged pieces of armor—a single shoulder pauldron, chainmail trousers, and a pair of dented but dependable metal boots.
Though he now wore less armor than when he first arrived in the System, Mal looked more dangerous than ever. The definition of his dark, powerful frame had only sharpened, his strength honed by multiple profession level-ups in the past few days. His physical stats had surged, and the presence he carried was impossible to ignore.
Just yesterday, Mal had reached Level 3 in his class, Heavy Warrior. For his new skill, he selected something that suited his raw power and straightforward approach:
[Skill Acquired: Hammer Crash – Common]: Unleash a devastating blow with a blunt weapon, channeling immense strength into a concussive impact. Upon striking, the force generates a shockwave that may stagger or unbalance nearby enemies. Damage scales with Strength.
What should have been a thirty-minute hike had turned into an exhausting hour-long trudge. The forest in this direction was dense and overgrown, forcing Mal to hack through brambles and tangled underbrush just to make progress.
But he had made it—his tunic soaked through with sweat, clinging to his frame. One of his long, coiled locks had slipped loose during the hike. With a swift, practiced flick, Mal tied it back, unwilling to let even a strand of hair—or a moment's doubt—get in his way.
He spotted the prize: a large wooden chest resting atop a glowing green magic circle in the center of a wide clearing. Dozens of trees had been toppled around it, as if the land itself had been cleared to make room for an arena. Had the chest done this—preparing the stage for the battle to come?
[Uncommon Guarded Spoil Chest] – A System-generated chest created for the event [Guarded Spoils]. Opening this chest will generate a soulbound item tailored specifically to the individual who opens it. 10 Event Points awarded for opening.
The spoils were tempting, but then there was the guardian.
The boar was colossal, its body encased in large metal plates like a living tank. Each segmented panel was tightly fitted, leaving only narrow gaps between them—few and far between. Etched into select pieces of armor were oversized runic markings: one on each shoulder, another on both hind legs, and a final symbol emblazoned across the helm plate. They pulsed faintly, suggesting something more than just decoration.
[Runic Ironclad Boar]
Level: 6
Class: Beast
Mal exhaled slowly and stepped into the clearing. The beast stirred, rising to its full height, its glowing eyes locking onto him as it accepted the unspoken challenge.
The beast launched into a charge. Mal had faced something like it before—massive, armored, and slow. Or so he thought. This one moved with surprising speed, its bulk not slowing it in the slightest.
Mal dove to the side as a vivid green aura flared around the boar. It barreled past him, unable to halt or pivot mid-charge. As it thundered by, Mal caught a flash of light—glowing runes on its hind leg plates, pulsing green with power.
The runes on the hind leg plates formed a bold 'X' with a solid square at its center—like muscle fibers radiating from a core of raw strength.
Mal quickly realized what the boar was doing. While his boosting skill enhanced his entire body, the boar's runes focused power with precision—channeling energy directly into its legs, enabling bursts of explosive speed.
Once more, the boar charged. This time, Mal was ready. He dodged aside with practiced timing, and as the beast thundered past, he swung his hammer upward in a brutal arc—striking hard against the shoulder plate with a resounding clang, his Hammer Clash skill unleashing a concussive shockwave.
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But instead of staggering the boar, the shockwave rebounded. Mal was hurled backward, the force slamming him into a tree. Pain exploded through his ribs as the impact knocked the wind from his lungs, leaving him gasping for breath.
The rune on the boar’s shoulder plate flared to life, its shape a precise sequence of three concentric circles. The outermost ring was wide and faintly etched, its edges glowing with a soft, pulsing light. Within it sat a smaller, more defined circle, and at the very center—a solid core, a small disc of pure light. The closer to the center, the more concentrated the glow became, as if energy was being absorbed and condensed inward. The pattern resembled a ripple reversed—less a symbol of projection, and more of containment and redirection. A perfect sigil of reflection.
Mal pushed himself to his feet, chest heaving as he eyed the boar lining up another charge. One thing was clear—he couldn’t strike those shoulder plates again.
The boar came thundering forward in the same relentless pattern. Mal, still off-balance from the last hit, tried to dodge, but he was too slow. The beast's massive head slammed into his side, sending a fresh wave of pain through his ribs. Thankfully, it had no tusks—otherwise, that hit might’ve gutted him.
But then, as Mal was knocked off his feet, something sharp tore into his side. Two sleek, spear-like tusks had extended from the helm plate—triggered by a glowing rune etched into the metal. The rune was shaped like two mirrored spears, their tips facing outward from a shared base, forming a pointed V. It was a rune designed for sudden projection—violence unleashed without warning.—hidden weapons—slicing a deep gash along his ribs.
Mal poured stamina into his boosting skill, the green aura flaring brighter around him. With a powerful swing, he brought his hammer crashing down onto the boar’s helm, unleashing a shockwave that sent the beast stumbling. Hairline cracks spiderwebbed across the armored plate. Seizing the moment, Mal rolled clear, putting precious distance between them.
Fortunately, Mal's high Endurance and Toughness dulled the worst of the damage—the wound looked worse than it truly was. He pulled out his final health potion and drank deeply, feeling the familiar warmth spread through his chest. But with no more health potions left, he was now in a dangerously vulnerable position.
The boar shook its massive head, snapping out of the daze with a guttural snort. It was angry now—truly enraged.
The runes on its hind legs pulsed brighter, glowing with intensified green light as it infused more energy into them.
Mal planted his feet, eyes scanning the armored beast. The helm was too dangerous—those retractable spears could end him if he got too close. The shoulders were just as bad; striking them again would only rebound the damage. His best chance? The back legs. If he could land a solid hit there, maybe he could disrupt the runes powering the beast’s speed.
The beast charged. Mal feinted right, baiting the boar into deploying its tusk in that direction. But with a burst of agility, he darted left instead, slipping past the deadly shoulder plates—and then struck, his hammer arcing toward the exposed flank.
The collision rang out through the clearing, a sharp metallic bang echoing as hammer met armor. The plate now bore a jagged crack—still intact, but weakened. The rune etched into its surface flickered erratically, its once-steady glow faltering under the impact. Another hit and it would be exposed.
The boar was slower this time, more cautious—giving Mal the perfect opportunity to strike.
The beast and Mal charged at each other, the boar anticipating Mal to dodge to the side as he had before. Not this time. But Mal had learned from the boar. He focused his boosting skill, channeling power into his legs—then leaped.
Mal landed hard on the boar’s back, its momentum too great to stop. Seizing the moment, he drove the point of his sword into a gap in the cracked armor. Then, raising his hammer high, he brought it down with brutal force onto the sword’s hilt—driving the blade deeper like a nail into wood. The weapon pierced into the beast’s left hindquarter. The rune completely broken.
The boar let out a guttural roar, rage echoing through the clearing as Mal clung to its back like a thorn buried deep in its hide.
Mal didn’t let up. With one arm gripping tightly for balance, he raised his hammer and brought it down in relentless strikes. Again and again, steel met armor until the right hind plate buckled under the force. It took four brutal blows before it finally shattered. The boar gave a strained groan and collapsed, its legs folding beneath its massive weight.
Before the beast hit the ground, Mal seized the hilt of his buried sword and yanked it free in a spray of blood, leaping clear just as the massive body collapsed behind him.
The beast thrashed weakly, unable to rise as Mal approached. Its spear-like tusks extended and retracted in a final, twitching reflex. Mal carefully aligned his blade with one of the exposed eyes and drove it in cleanly. The thrashing ceased, and the forest fell silent.
You have slain [Runic Ironclad Boar-Level 6], you have gained bonus experience for slaying a foe of a higher level.
As Mal allowed his green aura to fade, the shimmering magic circle around the chest flickered and vanished—his prize finally unsealed.
Exhausted, Mal staggered forward to claim his prize.
But before he could reach it, a blur shot out from the forest—a small, wiry figure clad in black armor. The stranger snatched the chest with practiced speed. Mal instinctively tried to activate his boosting skill, but his stamina was drained—he was too late, and too slow.
The man glanced back at Mal, a smirk barely visible beneath his hood, before activating a skill that made him blur—blinking to the forest’s edge in an instant. Without hesitation, he vanished into the shadows of the trees, prize in hand.
Mal stood frozen, chest heaving, watching the shadows swallow the thief whole. Every instinct screamed to give chase, to rip the bastard down and take what he’d earned. But his legs trembled. His vision blurred at the edges. He had nothing left to give.
His grip tightened around the hammer in his hand—not out of hope, but frustration.
“Of course,” he muttered, voice low and bitter. “I do the heavy lifting. He walks away with the reward.”
Mal didn’t rage. He didn’t shout. There was no strength for theatrics, only a quiet, simmering promise. That thief had bought himself time—not safety.
"Was all of this for nothing? Can I not catch a break—just once?" Mal muttered, drained and exhausted.
Then his eyes caught a faint glow—the runes on the boar, flickering as they faded into stillness.
Mal eyed the metal armor with narrowed focus. Thankfully, he’d chosen an upgraded Identify skill at Level 3 in his profession—and now, it was finally paying off.
[Runic Iron – Uncommon]: A dense, energy-rich iron alloy prized for its durability and conductivity. Ideal for forging armor and weapons. Runes engraved into this metal are easier to infuse with mana, enhancing both activation speed and overall efficiency.
Not the chest. Not the event points. Not even the victory.
This—this iron, steeped in power and potential—was his real prize.
2–3 times a week, most likely on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays.