That kobold… was a real man. Or, well, a real monster with the heart of a protagonist.
Weakened, bleeding from a dozen shallow cuts, and clearly outmatched after watching his goblin companion get turned into a shadow-kebab, he still let out a defiant, guttural roar and charged at me. His rusty spear was held low, his reptilian eyes burning with a suicidal bravery that was both stupid and strangely admirable.
I panicked, obviously.
My newfound confidence, born from a single, successful sneak attack, evaporated like mist in the sun. My mind screamed commands that my body struggled to obey.
'Shadow Bind!'
I thrust my hand forward, trying to channel the dark energy, to will the ethereal chains into existence. But nothing happened. A pathetic wisp of black smoke curled from my fingertips and then fizzled out like a damp firecracker. The connection was there, but my control was clumsy, the flow of mana sputtering like a clogged pipe.
'Shit.'
The kobold closed the distance with surprising speed. Even a lowly E-rank monster, the kind of creature children laugh at in bedtime stories, was stronger and faster than me in raw physical stats. I barely managed to dodge the incoming spear thrust, tumbling gracelessly down a small, muddy slope, my fine noble clothes snagging on roots and thorns. I landed in a heap, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Desperate, I scrambled back, raising a trembling hand. There was no time for finesse, no room for complex spells. I needed raw, overwhelming power.
'Shadow Bomb!' I screamed in my mind, pouring a reckless amount of mana into the incantation.
A sphere of roiling, unstable darkness materialized in front of my hand. It crackled with chaotic energy, and before I could even properly aim it, it shot forward.
BOOM!
The explosion was far more powerful than I'd anticipated. It blasted the charging kobold backward, sending it flying through the air like a ragdoll. But the recoil was just as brutal. The shockwave slammed into me, throwing me back against the very slope I'd just tumbled down. My shoulder throbbed with a searing pain, and my vision swam with black spots.
What do you expect from a zero-experience villain cosplaying as an MC?
After that enlightening, and deeply painful, welcome to actual combat, I made a new resolution. I decided to grind—real hard.
The next five days were a blur of pain, exhaustion, and slow, agonizing progress. I didn't venture deep into the forest. I stalked the edges, the territory of the weak and the foolish. I hunted goblins, kobolds, oversized venomous rats, and the occasional aggressive, boar-like creature called a Gruntusk.
My strategy was simple and cowardly: find monsters already fighting each other, wait for them to weaken themselves, and then pick off the survivor. My Shadow Veil made me nearly invisible in the dense undergrowth, and I became a master of the patient ambush.
Anything higher than E-rank, I respectfully bowed out and ran away like the disgraced noble I was.
But with each kill, I felt the synchronization with my shadow affinity grow. The mana flowed more smoothly, the spells formed more readily, and the physical backlash lessened. I was learning control.
Five days later, covered in mud, scratches, and the lingering scent of monster blood, I felt ready.
'System, show my stats.'
[
─── STATUS WINDOW ───
Name: Ashen Crimson (Soul: Kai)
Level: 3
Race: Human (???)
Title: The Exiled
➤ ATTRIBUTES:
▸ Physical Strength: C
▸ Mana Capacity: SS
▸ Agility & Speed: E+
▸ Charm: S
▸ Luck: E
➤ ELEMENTAL AFFINITIES:
▸ Shadow (Synchronization: 35%)
▸ ???
▸ ???
▸ ???
▸ ???
➤ SKILLS:
▸ [Shadow Bind (Active)]
▸ [Shadow Bomb (Active)]
▸ [Shadow Creation (Active)]
▸ [Shadow Veil (Passive)]
▸ [Cold Composure (Passive)]
➤ EXP PROGRESS:
Level 3 → 4: ▓▓▓▓▓░░░░░░ (40%)
Kills Required for Level Up: 20
]
My physical strength had improved, likely from the constant running and climbing. Still, my speed was pathetic. But the progress was undeniable. 'Only 20 more kills to level up... Easy.'
But enough grinding. It was time to hunt the main course.
Volkin.
A legendary beast, a silver-furred wolf said to be faster than thought itself, blessed by the moon god. In the original timeline, the protagonist, Rin, had formed a contract with him without a fight. According to the future knowledge I possessed, Volkin was a proud creature, yearning to see the world but magically bound to the forest by a curse laid by a forgotten noble family.
So what did the MC do? He didn't fight. He didn't tame.
He simply offered the wolf freedom, and Volkin, sensing his pure heart, accepted. Simple.
I thought I could do the same. I'd just go up to him, put on my most charming S-rank smile, and say something poetic and moving.
'Dear puppy, come to mama. Mama will show you the world~'
That's it. Easy peasy.
And then… I found him.
In a clearing bathed in an ethereal, silvery mist, he stood. His silver fur seemed to absorb and reflect the moonlight, shimmering with a light of its own. His claws, long and sharp as daggers, glinted with latent power. He was larger than any wolf I had ever seen, his powerful muscles coiled beneath his gleaming pelt. But it was his eyes that stole my breath. They were the color of molten gold, intelligent, ancient, and they looked straight into my soul.
I opened my mouth to say those sacred, charming words.
But the look in his eyes? The sheer, untamed pride? The ancient power that radiated from him like a physical force?
Yeah. Not having it.
Abort mission. Abort!
I quickly changed my tone, my posture shifting from casual confidence to one of deep, theatrical respect.
'Oh, almighty Volkin, spirit of the moonlit grove,' I began, my voice resonating with a sincerity I didn't feel. 'I am here not as a conqueror, but as a liberator. I sense the chains that bind you to this land. Join me, and together we shall see the world. Be my contract beast, and share my journey to greatness!'
He narrowed his golden eyes, and a low snort, like the rumble of distant thunder, escaped his throat. A voice, ancient and powerful, echoed not in the air, but directly in my mind.
[You are too weak. Why would a being of my lineage bind itself to a fragile weakling? My ancestors would mock me from the spirit world.]
'Weak?' I scoffed, my pride stung despite myself. 'I may look weak, but I have slain over two hundred monsters in this forest—regardless of rank!'
I said it with the unshakeable confidence of a compulsive liar and the soul of a delusional protagonist. It was a gamble, a bluff of epic proportions.
Volkin's ears perked. His head tilted, and his mouth curved into something that resembled a wolfish smirk.
[Two hundred? An impressive number for one so frail. Very well. But if you are lying… your body will be the first thing I shred when I tire of this conversation.]
He took a single, deliberate step forward. The mist swirled around his paws.
I gulped, my throat suddenly dry.
'Test me?' I asked weakly, my bravado crumbling.
He bared his fangs, each one as long and sharp as a dagger.
[Prepare yourself, human.]
'...I'm doomed.'