The Supreme Monarch of Continuum

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[System Warning]:

Incoming Hostiles Detected:

5x Noiva (F-rank)

3x Silcohn (E-rank)

Estimated arrival: <10 seconds

Prepare for combat

---

The warning showed faintly in front of Klaus's eyes, a cold flicker of adrenaline slipping down his spine. He squinted toward the treeline as movement stirred in the underbrush.

The first to emerge were the Noiva: small, quadrupedal beasts, no taller than a shepherd dog. Their fur was snow-white and thick, almost cloudlike, swaying with each nimble step. From a distance, they might have passed for harmless, even cute. But Klaus could see the details now: the faint ripple of muscle beneath the fur, the unnatural gleam in their wide, silver eyes. Their jaws were slightly too wide for their heads, the lower mandibles split at the center like a hinge, twitching in anticipation. Despite their rank, they moved with eerie coordination, circling out to flank.

Then came the Silcohn: taller, bipedal, and lean. Their bodies were wrapped in thin, translucent skin that shimmered faintly in the light, like glass fogged by breath. Long, vine-like appendages curled from their backs, swaying slowly as if sensing the air. Where eyes should have been, each Silcohn had a narrow band of bioluminescence across its face, glowing soft blue. They stood with unsettling stillness, like statues waiting for a signal.

Klaus narrowed his eyes, smiling faintly.

"Alright," he muttered, cracking his knuckles. "Let's see what you're made of."

Then, just as the Silcohn's and Noiva's closed in, barely meters away, Klaus raised his arm and activated his newest skill: Steam Lash. 

A sudden burst of red and blue-hot vapor erupted from his palm, arcing wide like a burning whip through the air. The pressure split the ground beneath it, grass and soil hissing as the superheated wave cut through. 

The Noiva didn't even have time to yelp, five bodies hit the dirt in a single flash, their fur scorched, eyes wide with shock. 

The Silcohn fared worse. Steam coiled around their limbs like invisible wires, tightening with every twitch. The more they moved, the deeper the damage carved in, boiling skin, slicing tendons, melting the ghostly glow from their faces. But they moved anyway. Desperately. Violently. Like creature who knew death was seconds away and sprinted straight into it, like Usain Bolt.

Then: stillness. 

The last Silcohn collapsed with a choked hiss, twitching once before going limp. A breath later, the system prompt blinked across Klaus's vision.

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[System Notification]:

You have successfully defeated:

5x Noiva (F-rank)

3x Silcohn (E-rank)

You have leveled up!

Current Level: 3

1 Stat Point Acquired

---

Klaus smirked, already spending the point, dumping it straight into Strength. "Too easy," he muttered, rolling his shoulders. "Didn't even break a sweat."

Emily stepped beside him, the faintest smile on her lips.

"Is this it?" Klaus asked, his voice dipping into cocky amusement. "Come on. I was promised a challenge. This was barely warm-up."

"Oh, don't worry," Emily said, kneeling to seal her pouch of glowing herbs. Her voice held a spark now, playful, but with something brewing beneath. "We're just getting started. They'll come. Takes a few minutes... they follow scent."

She stood, slinging the pouch over her shoulder. "I'm dropping these to the research lab upstairs. Won't take long."

Klaus nodded, flashing her a sideways grin. "Alright. I'll wait. Not like I'm in danger or anything."

Emily glanced over her shoulder, catching the grin. Her eyes narrowed slightly, amused but unreadable. "Try not to flirt with the monsters," she said, and then stepped through the gate, disappearing from sight.

Klaus chuckled under his breath, his voice blushing: "No promises."

Then, in front of him, another system notification materialized in midair, its red border pulsing with fresh urgency.

---

[System Warning]:

Incoming Hostiles Detected:

1x Ghaldon (C-rank)

10x Noiva Hul (F-rank)

Estimated arrival: <50 seconds

Prepare for combat

---

Klaus read the alert, then scoffed.

"Just one C-rank?" he muttered, pacing slowly. "That's it? And ten of those puffball knockoffs? Come on, at least pretend you're trying."

He cracked his knuckles again, then flexed his fingers, steam faintly rising from his palms in anticipation. His blood was already warming.

Seconds passed.

Then, through the tall, shimmering grass at the far end of the field, they came.

The Noiva Hul moved first, larger than the standard Noiva by at least a foot. Their coats were darker now, matted with streaks of oily blue-black fur that glistened in the dungeon light. Their fangs jutted farther out of their widened jaws, and their gait had changed: less like a dog, more like a wolf on overclocked nerves. Their eyes glowed faint amber as they bounded forward, low and fast.

Behind them, the trees bent unnaturally, pushed aside.

The Ghaldon stepped into view.

It was massive. Eight feet tall, maybe more. Covered in thick, plated skin like obsidian bark, cracked with veins of glowing orange. Its frame was bulky but not sluggish—its arms long, ending in clawed, three-fingered hands that dug into the earth as it walked. Horns curved back from its head like scorched antlers, and a faint snort of ash hissed from its nostrils with every breath. Two small, intelligent eyes burned from its skull like smoldering coals.

Klaus grinned, his voice filled to the brim with cockiness: "Here we go."

The Noiva Hul struck first. Tof them darted toward Klaus like a wave of living teeth and muscle, their sleek, oily fur glinting as they moed. Klaus stood still, calm, almost bored, until they were within range. 

Then, he struck. He used his Stem Lash skill attempting to delete the lot of them together. 

A hiss. A roar. A violent arc of white-hot vapor exploded from his palm, sweeping across the field like a blade of boiling air. The front line of Noiva Hul didn't stand a chance. Three of them screamed mid-leap as the alsh carved through their bodies boiling their blood and searing their lungs. Fur ignited. Flesh peeled. They hit the ground rolling, twitching for a second, then went still. 

Seven left. 

Klaus stepped forward into the chaos. 

The surviving beats scattered, flanking him, learning. They were smarter than the original Noiva: quicker, and more aggressive. One lunged low from behind while another cam ehigh from the front, trying to tag-team him. Klaus dipped low under the high one, pivoted on his heel, and drove his elbow backward into the skull of the one behind him. A loud, wet crunch echoed.

He spun, caught the other one mid-air, and with an unnatural burst of strength, slammed it down spine-first against the hard dirt. A sickening snap followed.

Five left.

The next two attacked in tandem, snapping and swiping at his flanks. Klaus let them. One claw raked across his forearm. Blood spattered across his shirt.

He grinned.

Then his knee came up, fast, hard, shattering the jaw of the closest Noiva Hul. It dropped like a stone, twitching, gagging on broken teeth. The second tried to retreat, but Klaus followed. A roundhouse kick connected with its ribcage, sending it flying into a nearby boulder. It hit with a crunch, slid down, and didn't get up.

Three left.

They circled now, warier. He cracked his neck, steam rising from his hands again, but he didn't cast. Not yet.

"Come on," he muttered. "No hiding. Come and die."

One of them obeyed. What a foolish little fellow.

It charged, fangs bared, but Klaus slipped under it again, then brought his fist up like a piston. The creature's entire jaw was ripped from its socket by the blow. It landed a few feet away, still trying to crawl with half a face.

Two more tried to rush him from the sides.

Klaus spun in place, sweeping low with his leg. One was tripped mid-leap and crashed onto its back, Klaus drove his heel straight down into its throat. Bone crunched. The other landed on his back, biting hard into his shoulder. Klaus winced. Then he reached back, grabbed it by the scruff of its neck, and ripped it free. He slammed it twice into the ground like a rag doll before twisting its head in one clean motion. Its spine snapped with a crack like lightning.

Silence.

Blood soaked his arms. His shirt clung to him, torn, crimson-drenched. His breath came steady. His smile widened.

Then the ground shook.

The Ghaldon stepped forward.

Its obsidian-black body reflected firelight from the burnt field. The steam from Klaus's earlier attack still clung to the air, but this thing didn't care. It moved slow and heavy, but with purpose. Its molten veins pulsed beneath cracked skin. It raised one clawed hand and slammed it into the earth, letting out a low, guttural snarl that reverberated through the dungeon floor.

Klaus didn't flinch.

He raised his hand again.

Steam Lash.

The arc exploded forward, scalding, relentless, carving across the Ghaldon's chest. A clean hit. The creature roared, staggered slightly. Steam began to curl from its wounds. Its black skin hissed. The system pinged in front of Klaus's eyes.

---

[System Notification]:

CRITICAL HIT!

Effects Applied:

Burn: 8% HP reduction over 4s

Drench: -10% fire resistance

Steam Trauma: Active

---

The creature buckled slightly, then stepped forward.

Thud.

Thud!

THUD!

Klaus narrowed his eyes, his voice agitated: "You should be screaming right now."