Kane finally released his grip, gasping for air in heavy, ragged bursts.

  He was covered in wounds. The gash on his left shoulder was deep enough to expose the bone, and the claw marks across his back burned with a searing heat.

  He was a complete mess.

  But his eyes—they remained terrifyingly bright.

  A green Essence Orb, more brilliant than the one dropped by the Shadow Stalker, slowly emerged from the Blade Mink’s carcass.

  It floated silently, radiating sharp and pure energy fluctuations.

  Kane reached out his left hand, unable to wait a second longer.

  Drawn by the attraction, the orb transformed into a streak of flowing light and vanished into his scalding palm.

  The burning sensation returned.

  This time, what flooded into his body wasn't the heavy, wild explosive power of the Shadow Stalker. Instead, it was a sharp, weightless "atmospheric pulse" carrying an invisible will to carve and cut.

  The power surged up his arm, frantically concentrating and settling into his forearms, wrists, and finally the tips of his ten fingers.

  He felt the bones and tendons in his arms heat up and tighten, accompanied by a strange sensation of stretching and reshaping.

  A cold sting pricked his fingertips, as if invisible, elongated, and razor-sharp keratin was coalescing into form.

  Countless fragmented images flashed through his mind—

  The Blade Mink’s lightning-fast claw strikes weren't based purely on physical strength. At the moment of the swing, it instinctively guided and compressed the air in front of it, turning it into an invisible extension of its claws.

  What tore through flesh was not just the talons, but a highly condensed "vacuum blade."

  The muscles in his forearms quivered with a phantom memory, as if they had already adapted to that unique rhythm of exertion.

  Kane subconsciously raised his hand, mimicking the cadence of the strike from his memory. His fingers spread slightly as he slashed at the empty air—

  Sss!

  The faint sound of tearing silk rang out. On the sandy ground a meter away, a shallow cut abruptly appeared!

  In his mind, the cold text branded itself into his consciousness.

  It worked!

  Another skill! A ranged attack!

  It filled a gap in his combat repertoire.

  From now on, he was no longer just a high-speed assassin.

  Kane suppressed the wild joy surging within him and opened his right hand.

  On the Five-Star Soul Seal in his palm, only one point of the star glowed with a faint green light.

  It had lit up that same point when he first obtained [ Kinetic Boost ].

  Now, the newly acquired [ Aero Blade ] seemed to have overwritten it.

  One star point, one skill slot.

  To use [ Aero Blade ], he had to unequip [ Kinetic Boost ].

  To have extreme speed, he had to give up the ranged attack.

  A trade-off.

  While Kane was lost in thought, a blunt, honest voice drifted down from the rock behind him without warning.

  "Human, your speed is decent."

  "But your fighting style... too wasteful."

  The blood in Kane’s veins froze instantly!

  He spun around like a flash of lightning, holding his blood-stained dagger across his chest. His gaze was as sharp as a blade as he stared deathly at the source of the voice.

  A "giant" over two and a half meters tall sat silently on the massive boulder where Kane had just been hiding, looking down at him.

  His skin was a grayish-brown like stone, filled with a hard texture and natural geological patterns.

  He wasn't just sitting on the rock.

  It was as if he were a part of the stone itself, grown right out of it.

  A member of the Gaia Coalition’s sapient races!

  A Stoneborn!

  Kane’s heart sank to the bottom of his chest instantly.

  The Stoneborn giant ignored his hostility. He merely used his eyes, deep-set within a face of living rock, to point at the messy pool of blood left behind by Kane and the Blade Mink.

  "Using your own blood to trade for its blood. Not a good deal," he spoke in a low, resonant rumble.

  "A beast’s life is cheap."

  "Your life is worth more than its."

  "For this kind of beast, you should break its legs first, not compete to see whose blood is harder."

  The giant leapt down from the boulder. The heavy impact of his landing made the ground itself shudder.

  Every muscle in Kane’s body coiled tight. His knuckles turned white from the grip on his dagger.

  He stared fixedly at this Stoneborn who stood over two and a half meters tall, his mind frantically calculating an escape route.

  An ambush? Unless he could drive a blade directly into the giant's eye, his dagger wouldn't leave so much as a white scratch on that rock-like skin.

  Run? His speed was superior, but in this jagged, rocky canyon, once his stamina hit zero, being hunted down by a monster like this meant certain death.

  His win rate was zero.

  "Human, put away your teeth."

  Crag ignored the knife in Kane’s hand and walked straight toward the still-twitching carcass of the Blade Mink.

  He gripped the mink’s neck with a hand the size of a cattail leaf fan and gave it a casual twist, like wringing out a wet towel.

  Crack!

  The crisp sound of bone snapping echoed through the canyon.

  "The most treacherous part of this beast is its death throes. Its hind claws can disembowel you."

  Crag turned his head, his voice booming. No expression could be read on his stony face; his tone was as flat as someone stating a simple fact.

  "To kill it, you should break the spine first, then bleed it out. Your style—trading life for life—is too stupid. Not a good deal."

  Kane’s Adam's apple bobbed. The killing intent in his heart was diluted slightly by this sudden "lesson."

  He retracted the dagger, but his left hand remained in his pocket, his newly acquired [ Aero Blade ] primed and ready.

  "How I kill is my business," Kane said, his tone stiff and cold as ice-tempered iron.

  In the Wasteland, unprovoked kindness was more dangerous than a bullet.

  Crag didn't care. He sat down cross-legged, hunkering on the sand like a small mountain, and pointed at Kane.

  "Your 'teeth' are sharp. That strike of yours... it smells of metal. My fists cannot hit like that."

  "I pin the prey down. You pierce their shells. The prey goes to you. I only want the iron scraps in their bellies. A trade?"

  Kane froze.

  He had expected the giant to rob him, not to negotiate a partnership.

  He calculated the odds rapidly.

  This brute knew the environment and the local creatures inside out. That brand of combat wisdom, forged from pure survival instinct, was exactly what Kane lacked most.

  "Deal."

  Kane finally relaxed his rigid posture, though his voice remained frigid. "But let’s get one thing straight. If there's lethal danger, I'm the first one to run. Don't expect me to recover your body."

  "Heh. Honest."

  Crag grinned, revealing a row of neat, stone-colored teeth.

  Over the next few days, Kane underwent a brutal "special training" session.

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