Stephen had been climbing for three days. The time had been hard—only four times had he found a flat surface to rest on. He had managed to treat himself and rest a little, and now he was sitting to regain his full strength, because the dungeon boss was still ahead—the one who would become his shadow beast.
Stephen looked up; he could see a sharp edge—it was huge.
*"There's nothing left to reach, and my body has recovered. It's time to finish this dungeon."*
Stephen climbed until he reached the sharp edge, pulled himself up, and stood.
He looked ahead and noticed a vast area. In front of him was a huge nest, and inside it lay a sleeping eagle—it looked different from the others.
It was larger in size, its feathers were golden and white, and it sat comfortably in the nest with its eyes closed.
Stephen took a quiet breath and stepped forward, ready, holding his sword.
It seemed the dungeon boss had sensed Stephen; it opened its eyes sharply, looked toward him, screamed at the top of its voice, and spread its enormous wings to fly.
A strong wind blew—enough to make an ordinary grown man fly away—but Stephen stood firm; the wind didn't seem to affect him at all.
The eagle darted toward Stephen at insane speed, attacking him with its long, sharp claws.
Stephen quickly dodged to the side, barely avoiding the attack.
*"If I had been a moment late, I'd be dead now… it's really fast."*
Stephen took out several bottles of blood. He didn't have time to open them, so he threw them around randomly in different spots. The glass was ordinary, so it broke. Now there were several patches of blood scattered on the ground.
He raised his sword and advanced directly toward the eagle, which lunged at him again with its claws.
Stephen blocked the eagle's strong claws with his sword.
He drew the eagle toward one of the blood patches.
Stephen waited, watching as the eagle got closer to the blood.
He quickly manipulated the blood, forming a sharp needle, and shot it upward toward the eagle.
The eagle noticed too late and tried to dodge, but couldn't—it hit its wing, causing it to crash to the ground.
"*Screech!*"
Now Stephen could fight on even ground.
He raised his sword and used the **Shadow Extension** skill. The sun was directly above them, so he wasn't at full power.
The shadow spread, covering half the flat area where they were fighting.
The eagle looked around—it could no longer see Stephen, and darkness suddenly appeared before it. It screamed powerfully, sensing danger, flapping both its healthy and injured wings.
The eagle stepped back—but—
*Whoosh!*
Another blood needle shot out, hitting its other wing. Now the eagle couldn't fly or see its enemy.
It opened its beak wide; sparks of electricity began forming around it.
Stephen looked at the eagle, realizing it was about to attack.
*"Oh no."*
He controlled all the blood spots, shaping them into swords pointed at the eagle, and charged toward it.
The blood swords reached first—most were blocked by the eagle's electric sparks, but two struck: one in its leg, the other near its tail.
Stephen used his **Time Stop** skill.
Everything froze—even the air. He couldn't breathe now.
He quickly raised his sword and—
cut off the eagle's head.
This lasted for three seconds, after which Stephen released the skill.
He breathed in air again with relief, but a sharp headache struck, and he coughed blood.
*"The effects of this skill are getting worse with each use… I should minimize it. It's the first time I've seen a skill whose side effects worsen each time. Maybe it's because it's related to time? Strange."*
Stephen sighed, wiped the blood from his mouth, approached the eagle, placed his hand on its corpse, and used **Shadow Art** on it.
The beast's shadow expanded until it completely surrounded the creature, then the eagle vanished from Stephen's sight.
Stephen looked toward his shadow and found the eagle inside it.
He thought for a second, then controlled the beast inside his shadow and summoned it out.
Now the eagle was about Stephen's size.
*"It looks smaller—maybe because I haven't trained this skill enough?"*
Stephen climbed onto the eagle's back and controlled it to fly.
At first, its flight was unstable, but after some time it became steady. Now Stephen could descend the mountain and return to the gate.
The eagle flew downward at insane speed—it only took three minutes to reach the bottom. The distance Stephen had climbed in three days, the eagle crossed in three minutes!
Stephen and the eagle exited the gate. Stephen put on his cloak, increased his height, and headed straight—still mounted on the eagle—toward the guild.
He dismounted in front of the guild and quickly hid the shadow into his own. To the ordinary people, it seemed like the eagle had disappeared on the spot.
Everyone around the guild stared in amazement at Stephen.
Some reporters approached him.
"Hello, Mr. Black Crow! Can you tell us what that beast was?"
"Hello! Can you tell us how you got it?"
Stephen frowned. The people around him were annoying. He spoke coldly:
"Move aside. I'm going into the guild."
His cold voice made the crowd step back in silence.
Stephen entered the guild without delay, heading straight for the elevator to see Vice President Jens.
He knocked on the door. When he heard permission to enter, he opened it and stepped in.
Jens looked at him and spoke with some delight.
"You came just in time. The president's here—he just asked about you."
He gestured toward the man standing before him. The man had some wrinkles around his eyes and cheeks, white hair, and deep blue eyes that emitted an imposing aura.
He looked at Stephen and smiled.
Stephen's body froze. He turned quickly and ran out of the guild.
Seeing Stephen's reaction, the old man laughed.
"Is this how you welcome me so warmly?"
Stephen didn't have time to take the stairs or the elevator—he had no choice but to smash through the nearest wall, summon his eagle, and flee the guild.
The old man stood before the broken wall, looking at Stephen with amusement, laughing.
"Ha ha ha! You've grown stronger during my absence!"
He jumped swiftly toward Stephen, who was flying on his beast, and grabbed him by the back with one hand.
"Young man, this old man is sad that you always run away from him."
When Stephen realized escape was useless, he didn't resist pointlessly. The old man was **S-rank**, unbeatable. He hid his beast, and they both began falling to the ground.
The old man landed lightly, still holding Stephen, then quickly headed toward the guild, entering through the hole Stephen had made.
Vice President Jens greeted them calmly; he didn't look surprised, as if he were used to this.
Stephen glared at Jens angrily.
"Didn't you say he'd return after four days? It's only the third day—why is this old man back?"
Jens laughed dryly.
"Ha-ha, he heard about your vacation and came back a little earlier."
Stephen glared sharply at Jens, who looked away.
The old man laughed.
"Jens, I'll take him to my office. Don't let anyone enter."
"Yes, President."
Jens quickly fled.
Stephen looked at the old man coldly.
"Put me down. I can walk on my own."
The old man laughed and set him down.
The two went to the president's office, and once the door closed, Stephen spoke coldly:
"What do you want?"
The old man spoke with amusement:
"Will you be entering the academy?"
Stephen stayed silent.
The old man got his answer from the silence.
"My grandson is in the academy. Please take care of him."
The old man had long been trying to convince Stephen to prepare for the academy. Stephen had been annoyed, so he hadn't told him he already planned to attend, letting the old man think he wasn't interested.
Then the old man turned and laughed.
"Ha ha! Who would think the famous Black Crow everyone admires is just a 14-year-old kid?"
Stephen frowned.
"I won't take care of anyone."
The old man ignored his response.
"How's your little brother? Tell him I'll visit your home for dinner tonight."
Stephen asked,
"How long will you be staying here?"
The old man looked at him.
"Why, don't you want to see me?"
Stephen replied,
"That's right."
The old man laughed.
"Ha ha ha! You always amuse me. Anyway, what's this cute little beast?"
Stephen answered,
"It's a skill."
"Oh, that's a useful skill. I'm happy for you."
Stephen looked at the old man's warm smile and turned his face aside.
The old man had discovered Stephen's real age during their first meeting. Curious about him, he had taught him swordsmanship and some combat skills.
Though Stephen was grateful, he didn't want to get attached to this old man—partly because of the original story, partly because of his own nature. He didn't want to bond with anyone except Mark.
He no longer needed friends or anyone to love or care for him. The effects of his past life still haunted him.
So he found the old man's affection strange—and frightening.
What if Stephen accepted him and began hoping for love from people other than Mark? What if, once they knew him, they ended up hating him again, repeating the same tragedy from his previous life?
Or even if they didn't hate him—
This old man would eventually die. What if Stephen couldn't save him?
Either way, he'd get hurt. So he preferred to stay distant and run away whenever possible.
...But who knows—perhaps Stephen might come to accept this old man with time.
Yet he refused to admit it, deceiving himself with lies—trying to avoid him as much as possible by running away.
...
Oh my God, does anyone know how to modify a chapter?