Michael had observed how the other monsters under that controller moved.
They felt wrong—alive, but hollow. Like puppets with no soul, acting only on the will of another.
They weren’t undead, not in the traditional sense. Their bodies were fully alive. Yet something essential was missing.
They were like living machines
Their stiff, emotionless movements reminded him of robots—flawless in function, but devoid of life. It wasn’t a bad analogy.
And if that was the case, they shouldn’t have been able to show things like pain, frustration, or anger
Yet this Forest Ape… it had.
Michael remembered several moments during the fight. Times where it seemed the monster could’ve gone for the kill—but didn’t. Its attacks had aimed for his limbs, not his vitals.
Almost like it was trying to cripple him.
“…Is it trying to capture me? To control me?”
The thought crept in.
If that were true, why hadn’t it tried to attack him from a distance instead? The controller didn’t need proximity to exert influence—it could act from afar.
“Or does it thinks I’m not an easy target?”
That thought felt closer to the truth.
Michael had layered protections over his mind. Mental armor designed specifically for monsters like this one. But how would a monster know that?
“Verren was attacked physically, not mentally… and my Intelligence is definitely higher than his. Did that make the monster hesitate?”
It was possible.
But regardless, Michael had no intention of being taken alive.
If not for the growing demon inside him—he wouldn’t be out here risking his life like this.
That first encounter had left a scar, and he needed to end it. For good.
Now, he understood what the Association meant when they warned: “Don’t treat this world like a game.”
It sounded dramatic, but facing this monster, it made perfect sense.
Killing someone wasn’t the scariest part.
Replacing their consciousness was.
It was death without death. And that terrified him.
If such a thing could control an Awakened’s body and mind, could it also find a way into the original world?
The thought made him clench his fists.
That’s why his caution far outweighed that of other new Awakeners.
Still playing his role, Michael continued deeper into the forest, his steps slow and deliberate.
He was bait now.
And he hoped the monster was watching.
******
Verren ducked beneath a flash of silver and rolled, narrowly avoiding the wolf’s crushing jaws.
The beast landed where he’d stood moments ago, its claws gouging deep into the earth. This one was different from the previous four.
Faster. Smarter. Stronger.
Verren’s arm trembled slightly as he brought his blade back up.
He’d already taken a grazing hit to the shoulder, and while it wasn’t deep, the pain lingered longer than it should have.
“Tch…”
His breath came in short bursts.
What truly annoyed him wasn’t the injury—it was his inability to utilise his Qi.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t use it.
He was already using it.
He was using it to guard his mind.
A constant, subtle pressure was pressing against his thoughts.
It wasn’t overwhelming, not enough to cripple him outright, but enough to be a problem.
A whisper just on the edge of his awareness, trying to worm its way deeper.
He grit his teeth. “Mental interference…”
According to the kingdom’s classified combat reports, this was the work of the monster they were after.
Right now, Verren was fighting like most grant knight would.
He was still strong. Just not as before.
The beast hind legs coiled for another pounce, and Verren snapped into a defensive stance—just in time.
The wolf sprang.
Verren met it head-on, his blade flashing upward in a sharp arc.
The edge struck, but only carved shallowly through muscle.
The monster twisted midair, slamming into him with its full weight.
“Ugh—!”
They crashed to the ground.
Verren rolled with the impact, instinct kicking in, and brought his knee up to kick the beast off before it could sink its teeth in.
He scrambled upright, chest heaving.
Still not enough. He needed more power.
But calling on his Qi meant exposing his mind—and that meant risking whatever was trying to get in.
He could feel it, like a pressure behind his eyes. Waiting. Searching for weakness.
“This is ridiculous,” he spat. “Fighting with one hand tied behind my back…”
The wolf prowled closer, unaffected by pain.
Verren had stabbed it twice, slashed it another three times, and the damn thing still moved like it was fresh.
Its wounds didn’t even bleed properly.
Verren adjusted his grip, his fingers tightening around the hilt of his blade.
His stance was solid.
He couldn’t let his guard down. Not even for a second.
The wolf charged again.
Verren’s sword met the claws mid-swing, the impact jarring up his arm.
Sparks flew as steel met bone.
The monster snarled, pressing forward with relentless force.
Verren slid back, boots dragging along the dirt.
“Enough,” he growled.
His breath stilled.
A single inhale.
He gathered his Qi and condensed it into his blade.
It was risky.
Letting go of the mental defense for even a moment meant inviting disaster. But if he didn’t end this now—
His eyes sharpened.
The world dulled.
Only the wolf remained in his vision.
Final Cut.
The sword hummed with power as he stepped in, ignoring the scream in his skull as the mental pressure surged the moment his defenses fell.
A single step.
A single slash.
The blade swept upward, cleaving through the monster in a perfect, upward arc from hip to shoulder.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then the wolf froze, its limbs twitching in confusion—as if surprised by its own death.
It collapsed a second later, bisected nearly cleanly through.
Verren exhaled sharply and staggered, dropping to one knee. The backlash hit instantly.
He gripped his head as the whisper returned, louder now, pushing at his thoughts like a tide trying to drown him.
“ENOUGH!”
Qi surged into his mind again.
The pressure receded just enough for him to breathe again.
“Damn it…”
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