Without wasting any moment, Jinhwan reached into his pocket, pulled out another potion stick, and thrust it into the wound in his stomach. Within seconds, the healing liquid did its work. his wound began to close, the pain fading fast.
"I only have two healing potions left. I can't afford to get injured again."
Jinhwan muttered under his breath, wiping blood from his mouth.
His grip tightened on the sword as the root puppets started moving again. jerky, twitching steps like broken marionettes. Their spears gleamed with dried blood, and they made no sound. Just silent, headless dolls marching toward him.
Then the first one charged.
He met it with a clean slash to the chest, roots snapping as it fell apart.
But two more replaced it immediately, spears thrusting from both sides.
He ducked low, the spears slicing the air above his head, then spun his blade cutting one in half, then twisting his body to pierce the chest of the other.
He didn't stop. He couldn't.
They just kept coming.
One grabbed his shoulder from behind.
He elbowed it hard, turned, and slammed his sword upward through its torso.
Another puppet tried to stab him in the back but he spun, slicing its arm off, then stepped in and cut through its core.
The puppets fought without fear, without hesitation. One stabbed him in the thigh.
He screamed, pulling the blade out of his leg mid-swing and taking down another two with one wild arc.
His body was slowing down, but he refused to stop. He grit his teeth and pressed on.
He leapt backward, avoiding a downward strike, then dashed forward, dragging his blade across three of them in one go. Sparks flew. Blood sprayed. His arm was trembling from the weight of the fight.
A puppet lunged low its spear caught him across the ribs. He stumbled back, panting. Another came from the side. He dropped to his knees just in time and thrust his sword upward into its chest, using its own weight to finish it off.
He barely had time to think. It was swing, dodge, stab, spin. Over and over. His breaths were sharp and shallow. His shirt clung to his body, soaked in blood his and theirs.
Minutes turned to an hour. The final puppet lunged.
Jinhwan didn't wait. He roared, dodged the thrust, then sliced upward with all his remaining strength splitting the puppet from hip to shoulder.
Silence.
He stood among broken pieces of wood, torn roots, and black spears scattered across the ground. His arms hung low, his sword almost slipping from his blood-soaked fingers.
Breathing hard, he reached into his pocket, pulled out another potion stick, and thrust it into his arm.
The liquid surged into him, and slowly, painfully, his wounds began to close. He slumped to the ground, staring at the corpses.
"Only one potion left now." he muttered. He lay on the ground motionless his body needs a rest after that intense fight he didn't move for few minutes
Beep.
[Level up]
[Level: 09]
[Mana points: 35]
[Skills: Moonpierce]
"Only five levels up after killing all of them," Jinhwan whispered, rolling onto his stomach before pushing himself upright.
He stretched his back with a soft groan, then looked down at his tattered clothes slashed from the wooden puppets' attacks, stained with the blood of those wailbats.
He bent down, grabbed his sword, and stood tall again.
Before I go to the boss of this gate, I need to figure out how to send mana into my weapon. If I face him without learning that. I'll be dead in no time.
He stood there silently for a few minutes, then a faint smirk tugged at his lips.
Now that I remember. my Quiet Storm did yap about it once.
With that, he closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath.
If I remember right, she said not to talk... then increase the mana flow to your hands or whatever part is holding the weapon then imagine the weapon getting wrapped in mana. Just keep increasing the flow. Alright, let's try it.
He gripped the sword with both hands, channeling mana steadily into his palms, focusing on the image of the weapon being infused with his energy. Minutes passed.
Then, finally, the sword's crimson handle began to glow, faint at first, then pulsing gently as a blue aura shimmered around the blade.
He opened his eyes, surprised. The handle was glowing, and the blade was cloaked in a faint blue with his mana.
"Huh. That was easier than I thought. it'd take an hour or something,"
"Whatever. let's end this."
He turned, eyes fixed on the path leading toward the gate boss.
He turned, gripping the sword in one hand as he repeated the process of channeling mana into his sword. getting used to the sensation, steadying the flow with each step toward the boss's cave.
His heart pounded in his chest, faster with every stride. He knew this fight wouldn't be like the others. This was a boss. One wrong move. and he'd be dead.
Standing before the massive gate, he paused and drew in a long breath, trying to calm the storm inside him.
As he stepped forward, the towering doors creaked and slowly began to open on their own.
A cold breeze rushed out to greet him.
Inside, there was only open space quiet, wide, and covered in soft grass.
The air was cold, the atmosphere calm. It felt like stepping into a quiet, forgotten meadow on Earth rather than a dungeon. Nothing about this place matched what he'd seen in any gate so far.
So this is what a boss room looks like,
Jinhwan thought, taking slow, cautious steps forward. The strange calm of the grassy field put him on edge, but he pressed on.
After walking for a few moments, his instincts suddenly screamed at him danger. His expression shifted, eyes sharpening. Without thinking, he spun around and slashed his sword through the air.
Nothing.
There was nothing there.
His breath caught in his throat as cold sweat slid down his temple. His eyes darted around the empty field no movement, no sound, just the wind brushing over the grass.
Then, a deep, calm voice echoed behind him.
"A mortal.. and alone. What a surprise. But you don't look that strong. So why enter alone? unless you have a death wish?"
[Chapter 7 end]