Veil of Aether

While Kei Y and Silvie had been caught up in their dungeon—what felt like weeks for them were but only a few days for those in the Expanse—their seemingly unfathomable progress hadn’t gone unmatched. Unknown to them, they weren’t the only ones growing stronger.

As they delved into increasingly difficult dungeons, tackled high-tier field bosses, and pursued quests far beyond their supposed rank, the other trial-takers were also advancing—steadily and with determination. The difference in growth might have appeared vast, but in truth, the rest of the Expanse's participants were marching forward with their own kind of momentum.

New developments continued to ripple through the region. Runes and deeper levels of stat enhancement were gradually uncovered. Those who walked the paths of artisans—blacksmiths, chefs, alchemists, and others—began to experiment with rune strokes to refine and enhance their creations. For some, it was the start of a new art. For others, it was a path to power no less important than force alignments or battle prowess.

Even those who were capable of forming contracts with creatures found themselves befriending them, gaining pets and adding them to their metric of fighting prowess.

Everyone was pushing themselves harder than ever. Countless participants had broken through, advancing into new classes and awakening greater strength. And with each breakthrough, the pain and struggle they endured felt worth it—evidence that their effort wasn’t wasted.

They didn’t know how long the Expanse Trial would last. The system hadn’t told them. But what they had begun to understand—what they had come to accept—was that this new reality of theirs would only grow more perilous with time. Each challenge would be more severe. Each decision, more costly.

They had to be ready for whatever came next.

“Where’s that damn hare!?” someone shouted from across a mist-wrapped cliffside.

“There it is!” another voice responded, launching a burst of mud-like earth toward a darting blur of emerald green.

But it missed.

The target—an emerald-lit blur—twisted sharply midair, the mudstrike slamming harshly into stone. Lightning crackled in its wake.

“It’s too fast!” a third voice called out, frustration creeping in.

Blades of condensed water formed midair, chasing the creature as it sprinted across the battlefield. But even those seemed a step too slow.

The emerald-green hare shimmered like a lightning bolt but moved with the weaving unpredictability of a storm wind.

“…Wasn’t it a Thunder Hare before?” someone muttered in disbelief. “Even the creatures are evolving…”

And indeed—it was no longer the same.

This was a Verdant Volt Hare, reborn from its Thunder lineage and fused with Wind. A living storm in furred form, faster, deadlier, and more attuned to the new world’s shifting rules.

The Hare’s emerald-green eyes locked onto its attackers, calm and unreadable. One of them stepped forward, swinging their sword in a clean arc and releasing a wave of Sword Force hurtling toward the creature.

The Hare didn’t flinch.

Its fur shimmered as it blinked once, and in that instant, a surge of electrical current pulsed through the air. The Sword Force wave veered off course, deflected as though the very wind and lightning had bent space around the beast.

Before the attackers could even register what had just happened—why their assault failed again—the wind whispered.

The Hare vanished from their vision.

A split-second later, it reappeared above them, hind legs drawn in tightly before slamming down. A burst of compressed stormwind exploded outward, not flashy but utterly overwhelming. The sheer force sent every one of them flying, crashing onto their backs with stunned grunts as debris scattered through the clearing.

From a safe distance, Hachi laid on a mossy ridge as it watched.

It had no intention of intervening.

It recognized that Hare—not just for its speed or power, but for something deeper. Its Force signature had changed… and more than that, Hachi could feel it.

The Hare had consumed Kei’s blood.

It pulsed with the same resonance that Zeph and Wooloo carried.

That truth had not gone unnoticed.

The others believed it was one of Kei’s important companions—one of them.

And so the young Lycan pup remained where it was, watching with bright eyes as its companion tore through its would-be captors. Each strike of Verdant Volt winds and lightning sent someone flying, their screams echoing as force-infused current danced violently across their bodies.

Several participants let out agonizing cries—painful enough that Hachi instinctively covered its ears with its little paws, ears pinned back, whimpering as sparks lit the horizon.

“…Yup, you and my human would make good friends,” the mischievous pup whimpered under its breath, tail thumping lightly as it grinned to itself.

To the Hare’s credit, it displayed a rather overwhelming show of strength—fending off mud, sword, fire, water, and poison attacks with sheer might. Even body-enhancement and physical force users were repelled with ease.

Its performance was so ridiculous that droves of trial-takers gathered, rightfully mistaking it for a field boss that had to be raided.

“Tch, how can an oversized bunny be this terrifying? Nothing is working!”

“I thought we could handle it after getting our classes, but it’s not even taking us seriously! It kicked Lenny straight into the ground… not gonna lie, that made me take a few steps back.”

“Not even mental forces are landing! Every time I try to hit it with one of my skills, its electrical currents just dispel them! This thing has to be the final Apex Boss of this Expanse!”

No matter what they tried, the group made no real progress. Their combined efforts were met with flickering bursts of wind and lightning that hurled people skyward. Some were blasted across the landscape. Others fell with thuds, groaning, as the Hare stood untouched, tail twitching.

Then, without warning, the Hare’s eyes glazed over slightly. It froze.

“…Something’s happening,” someone murmured, noticing its sudden shift in behavior.

“Finally! I’ve got it into a trance!” a smug voice announced. A figure with dark robes stood at the rear, hands weaving complex signs mid-air.

“Just a bit more,” he muttered, “and this creature will submit. I’ll add it to my collection.”

The cause of the Hare’s odd pause became clear—this was Caldec, a participant who had recently acquired a rare Beastmaster class. Rumors had already spread that he was building a fearsome army of summoned beasts.

“It’s Caldec!” someone whispered. “I heard he can control rare creatures… looks like he’s aiming to tame the Hare!”

“With something that powerful under his command… he’ll shoot up the rankings instantly.”

Caldec, full of ambition, grinned to himself. With this, I’ll solidify my position. Power, status, influence—it’ll all be mine. Once I tame this thing, nothing will stop me.

Unfortunately for him, dreams of glory made for poor situational awareness.

The trance broke.

The Hare’s ears twitched once, twice, before its pupils snapped back into focus.

Then it charged.

Before Caldec could even scream, the Hare launched itself forward with a thunderclap. Its hind legs struck his chest with the weight of a storm, sending him flying like a meteor into a nearby rock.

The impact echoed.

Silence fell.

From the crater, a wheezing voice barely escaped. “…Why…?”

The Hare, entirely unbothered, turned around, gave a single hop, and wiggled its plump tail mockingly in Caldec’s direction—as if to add insult to injury.

“…Yup,” someone muttered from the crowd, “…definitely not a field boss we’re meant to fight yet.”

The trial-takers could only groan in defeat, staring at the sheer number of bodies littered around the ground—first from the Hare… and then from the other beast looming nearby.

Hachi.

Compared to the Hare, Hachi’s pile of "casualties" was even larger, which made the group collectively realize something horrifying:

The wolf cub might be even more terrifying.

“…So we fought a literal lightning bunny,” someone muttered, still stunned. “And somehow, the fuzzy puppy’s worse?”

“Hush. Don’t let him hear you say that. He’s still sniffing around.”

At that moment, Hachi tilted his head, sniffing the air. Then he looked at the unconscious heap near his feet and gave a thoughtful little grunt.

“Hmm... it should be fine if I only take a bite out of one of them,” the cub mused, baring his little fangs and leaning down toward a collapsed woman.

Without hesitation, he bit.

The poor woman jolted awake with a pained yelp, eyes wide as she came face to face with the Lycan cub—who, upon tasting her, visibly winced. His ears flattened, and his entire expression twisted in disgust, as if her flavor had personally offended his ancestors.

The disgust was so apparent that she didn’t need words. She just knew.

“…He thinks I’m disgusting,” she whispered.

Ignoring the pain from her wound, she shakily drew her sword and began digging into the dirt beside her.

“Lyra? What are you doing?” one of her companions asked, baffled.

“Digging my grave,” she said solemnly, tears spilling comically down her cheeks. “The wolf tasted me and decided I’m too disgusting to eat. What’s the point of living anymore?”

Gasps of sympathy rose around her.

But then—adding insult to injury—Hachi trotted over, casually with his paws, and began helping her dig. He didn’t even look at her. Just dug.

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Like he agreed.

“…Nooo!” Lyra wailed, now fully sobbing as she fell into a full-blown dramatic crying fit, flailing uselessly in her self-dug hole. “He’s helping! He agrees! Oh gods, he agrees!”

The others didn’t know whether to laugh or run.

And Hachi?

He simply blinked, and trotted off again—mission complete.

Seeing the Lycan Wolf trot off, the Hare gave a quick hop and followed, the two creatures moving in tandem as if they had silently agreed—there was no longer any point in staying here.

The trial-takers exhaled collectively, some collapsing in place, others leaning on weapons or allies just to stay upright. Relief washed over them like a gentle breeze.

At least, for now… they were still alive.

“…And it’s only going to get harder from here?” someone muttered, disbelief thick in their voice.

Several of them turned their gaze upward, toward the sky above—the expanse of floating landmasses suspended high in the air, each one stacked atop the next like an impossible staircase reaching toward heaven.

Each expanse more beautiful… and more ominous than the last.

"We’re only on the first one," another whispered, downing a healing potion with trembling hands. "I can’t even imagine what the upper realms are like… or how much stronger the monsters get."

As Hachi and the Hare’s chaotic saga came to a close…

A new chaos bloomed across the battlefield.

Varying tigers—each aligned with different elemental forces—clashed with the trial-takers in wild, brutal encounters. Some wielded fire, others wind, some even bore the chill of frost or the calm lethality of water. Each moved with the untamed ferocity of beasts forged directly by nature’s wrath.

“First set, retreat! Second team, advance!”

Orders rang out through the cacophony as rotating squads stepped in, fighting with practiced formations to contain the elemental tide.

One tiger, fluid and shimmering like a living current, melted into the ground—its body dissolving seamlessly into water. It slid beneath a frontline fighter’s guard and reemerged behind her with a snarl, fangs gleaming.

She barely turned in time.

A loud clang echoed, followed by the tiger’s howl of agony. One of its fangs had been shattered—blasted clean out of its mouth.

A blur swept through the battlefield, cutting through elemental tigers without pause or prejudice. The projectile—small, fast, impossibly precise—pierced limbs, gouged out eyes, and ricocheted with unnatural angles, curving mid-air before returning to its master.

The figure caught it.

An arrow.

He calmly notched it to his bow and loosed it again without a word.

It blurred forward, arcing through the air like a guided storm, cleaving through the skulls of three different tigers. They dropped instantly. Nearby trial-takers staggered in awe, realizing they’d just been saved from a death they hadn’t even seen coming.

The other tigers faltered, their charge broken.

Among them, a massive one—its fur like brushed steel—roared in fury. Its cry shook the treetops, defiant even in the face of slaughter. It tensed to leap—

Only for a thunderous clang to slam into its side.

Crimson light erupted as a draconic head—formed entirely from molten flame—surged forward like a heat-seeking missile. The fire-Drake construct struck the steel tiger dead-on, sending it careening backward. It crashed into two other tigers—wind and earth aligned—and detonated with a burst of flame and force that scorched the underbrush and left all three smoldering in defeat.

Draggbane walked over, unbothered.

He collected the drops without so much as a second glance: experience points, materials, even a piece of rare equipment that glinted faintly in the firelight.

The steel tiger, somehow still alive, groaned, its body twitching as it tried to rise.

It never got the chance.

A soft whistle pierced the air.

Then silence.

A thin arrow lodged deep between its brows. Its body fell mid-charge, eyes dimming before it even hit the ground.

Reese stood calmly, bow already lowered. He barely acknowledged the EXP notification blinking at the edge of his vision. His attention was already on the materials, assessing the viability of the steel-like fur, bones, and inner core.

The arrow that struck true was one of Kei’s custom makes—built with force-channeling grooves, and weight-balanced plating designed for optimal velocity and control.

To the others, it was invisible.

To Reese, it was just another shot.

"You know, for someone without a class, you're getting really powerful, Reese. Soon you’ll be too strong to remain a member of my guild," Draggbane laughed, watching his guildmate with a mix of pride and playful worry.

"I can’t take all the credit for my growth," Reese replied calmly. "Kei had a large part to play in it. If not for him, I definitely wouldn’t have come close to making this much progress."

"Speaking of him... have you heard back yet? I was hoping to upgrade the greatsword and gauntlets he made for me," Draggbane asked—then winced slightly, instinctively rubbing the side of his head, the memory of Kei smacking him with a brick still vivid.

"I’m not exactly sure when he’ll be back. I just know he ventured off into a dungeon. As for when he clears it... I don’t know."

"When, huh? You really have a lot of confidence in him," Draggbane remarked.

Reese said nothing, only casting a calm glance his way—one that spoke volumes. It was the kind of look that said “You’ve seen what he’s capable of.”

Draggbane chuckled awkwardly and rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah... fair enough."

He turned back to the group. "Alright, there are more creatures in the area. Everyone ready to hunt?"

“YES!” his guild members responded in unison, their morale burning bright.

In another part of the Expanse, Kaito, Jenny, and Lisa were deep in combat with goblins—bigger, faster, and far more dangerous than the ones they had encountered at the start of the trial. These goblins moved with unnatural agility, and even Kaito had to acknowledge their strength.

He swung his longsword. His strike vanished from the view of the goblin he was facing—only to reappear embedded in the skull of a goblin several meters away, its head cleanly severed. In the same motion, his shortsword impaled the goblin in front of him, completing the dual kill with seamless precision.

Jenny danced across the battlefield, her scythe whistling through the air like a phantom's scream. Heads and limbs flew with every swing, catching the attention of the more advanced goblins. In response, she tapped the ground littered with goblin body parts, channeling the stored kinetic energy into her scythe—releasing it all in a violent pulse. The blast echoed like a shotgun, body parts becoming high-speed projectiles that shredded the oncoming goblins.

Then, without hesitation, Lisa dove into close-quarters combat. By now, she had perfectly mimicked Zeph’s martial art techniques—her movements fluid and devastating. Her punches, kicks, elbows, palms, and even headbutts became blurs, each strike reinforced by sound force stored directly in her limbs. When detonated, that force surged her limbs forward faster and harder than she could move naturally. To Kaito, her limbs were nearly impossible to track. Coupled with Zeph’s fighting style, she had become a deadly force in hand-to-hand combat.

“All right,” Kaito said looking at the requirements for the Legendary grade quest , taking a swig of water as they caught their breath. “The quest is to clear areas of goblins. We just finished this area—few more to go.”

“There’s such a heavy focus on clearing goblins,” Lisa noted while resting. “Even the Elves were involved with them. This has to go deeper than basic quest design.”

“Whatever it is, we just have to deal with it for now,” Jenny replied, sifting through the goblin drops and materials.

Kaito looked between them. “You’re really not going to use any of this EXP to level up? Or upgrade your stats or skills?”

“You can do whatever you want,” Jenny said casually. “All I know is, we’re getting close to keeping up with you—without using levels or upgrades. I haven’t leveled up in ages. Lisa hasn’t even used a single point.”

Kaito furrowed his brow at that.

“Listen to your crush, you idiot,” Lisa added with a smile.

Kaito blushed so hard he passed out on the spot.

“For my sister-in-law, you’re pretty mean,” Jenny said, looking at Lisa.

“To-be sister-in-law,” Lisa corrected with a grin. “And I still think it’s cute how—even though you’re not related—you treat Kei like your little brother.”

“Well, someone has to keep an eye on him,” Jenny replied with a shrug.

“What’s the worst that could happen if no one does?” Lisa asked teasingly.

Jenny’s playful expression faded for a moment. She glanced down.

“…Hopefully, you won’t come to know,” she said softly—because Lisa didn’t know. She didn’t know about Kei’s past. About the sealed documents. About the things no one ever talked about.

And maybe… that was for the best.

As the trio rested, back at Kei's clearing, the ground rumbled—each thunderous step quaking the earth, leaving behind scorched, molten footprints. The temperature spiked with every footfall.

Wooloo, curled into its soft resting shape, lazily stirred from sleep. Its large eyes cracked open with a groggy blink, only to narrow at the hazy, heat-distorted silhouette ahead. A towering figure radiating oppressive heat approached the clearing, each step warping the air, making Wooloo instinctively recoil in discomfort.

The blazing figure paused as if scanning for something—its molten eyes settling on the black-wooled, white-horned Fellhorn resting in the grass.

A guttural voice, spoken in a language only creatures could truly comprehend, rumbled from the figure.

"I sensed Elves here recently. Where did they go?" it demanded, leaving no room for silence.

Wooloo, more annoyed than intimidated, let out a bleat filled with derision.

"You stinky, overgrown goblin. Do you see any elves here, pea-brain? Take a bath and get out of my sight. You're ruining my sleep."

The fiery goblin froze. Rage erupted from its body like a smothered volcano forced to erupt. In a flash, Wooloo felt an immense gravitational force crash down on it, pressing it against the ground. It wasn’t just weight—it was heat, compressed so tightly that flames spontaneously bloomed across the ground around it. The world burned with every second it endured.

"You dare insult an Apex of this Expanse?" the goblin growled, its voice shaking the trees.

But Wooloo refused to be cowed.

With a low growl of its own, Wooloo pushed upward. Its body shimmered as it activated its own gravitational domain, nullifying the crushing force. The fire was swept away like ash in the tide. Eyes glowing white with authority, it stood.

"Apex or not, I couldn't care less. No one tells me what to do..." Wooloo declared, then paused, ears twitching as it amended, "Well… other than that human."

The towering figure before Wooloo was none other than the final Apex Boss of the Expanse: the Infernal Mass Goblin.

The fire-wreathed creature was already rearing back to strike when a gale of wind howled between them. The pressure was swept aside in an instant. An ethereal sky-blue hand—solidified wind—planted itself between Wooloo and the Infernal Mass Goblin.

Zeph had arrived.

Without sparing Wooloo a glance, the Zephyr Monkey stared directly at the flaming giant. He didn’t posture. He didn’t roar. He just looked—a quiet, unshakable stare backed by absolute calm and the weight of the skies.

The Infernal Mass Goblin narrowed its eyes in recognition.

"You dare stand in my way, Apex of Wind?"

His question was answered not with words, but with a sharp tail-slap to the earth. The shockwave sent up a whirling gale, flattening the grass and knocking birds from the trees. Zeph still didn’t speak. He just met the Goblin's gaze, unblinking.

The message was clear.

After a long pause, the Infernal Mass Goblin scoffed and took a step back. The heat receded slightly as it turned to leave.

It muttered as it walked, "Not worth it. Let the elves run. I’ll find them eventually."

Kai arrived shortly after, his steps quiet beside Zeph. Watching the goblin’s flaming figure disappear into the treeline, he exhaled slowly.

"That must be the final Apex Boss," he said aloud, mostly to himself. "It won’t be long now. Once this Expanse is cleared… the final trial will be up to Kei and whoever’s qualified to follow him."

He glanced between Zeph, still standing alert, and Wooloo—who had already flopped back down, bleating softly as it curled up again.

As if nothing had happened.

In separate corners of the Expanse, two individuals found themselves confronting prompts that, for once, made even the system itself… hesitate.

Jin, eyes no longer glowing with his silver rings, sat cross-legged under a swaying tree, staring at the system screen before him. With a decisive motion, he selected [No] on the system’s prompt.

The moment he did, a new one followed immediately.

[You have elected to not rely on weapons for combat, honing your own body to be a weapon in itself. You have received the title: [Unsheathed Body]. This title offers a 10% increase in physical capabilities for every unused equipment slot.]

Jin tilted his head slightly, absorbing the information. The effects were significant, synergizing with his combat style perfectly—but something about the previous prompt left a weight in his chest. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had just made a choice that diverged from what was expected.

Far across the Expanse, another figure faced a similar situation.

Nox stood quietly, gripping the handle of his personally crafted longsword, and dismissed the exact same prompt without a second thought.

[No.]

He exhaled.

“I’ll grow with my own hands. My power will be mine—not the result of some exotic bloodline or chosen race.”

Turning his back on the prompt, he ventured deeper into the Expanse, aura sharp and unwavering.

“There should still be one Apex Boss left. If I can fight it, I can prove where I truly stand.”

But what none of them realized… was what their rejection truly meant.

Across every realm and universe, the system stuttered—an imperceptible hiccup in its function. Trial-takers across the multiverse blinked in confusion as system messages momentarily lagged, flickered, then resumed. No errors were displayed. No answers were given.

Few beings in existence truly unserstood what happened. As for Earth, one man outside the trial understood what had just happened.

In a concealed underground facility back on Earth, Ren Sui reclined lazily on a black leather couch, eyes glued to a monitor. All around him, flickering displays showed urgent news headlines. The integration of Earth into the multiverse was progressing faster than even his fate-weaving foresight had predicted.

“To think… so much could unfold over there. First, Apex Bosses fall like dominoes—Earth reaps fortune after fortune, pushing our integration forward before the first trial even ends. Force, aether, and system access for the masses? Ridiculous.”

He leaned forward, pupils shifting subtly as Fate Force swirled in his irises—complex, ancient patterns spiraling in them like blooming flowers of inevitability.

“And now two candidates—both qualified to begin the Ardent race lineage—refused?” He chuckled.

The system seemed to had never truly been alive, but moments like these made Ren wonder.

“This will push the timeline forward. Governments can begin their plans. The old families will stir. Everyone will fight for a foothold in the new world. They think they’re ready.” He scoffed. “Let them dream.”

He turned toward the glowing TV in the corner, showing frantic news coverage of people spontaneously awakening powers, cities enforcing curfews, and police unable to manage magical chaos spreading like wildfire.

Then he sighed.

“Still… Silvie’s success in the trial’s been too clean. She’s moving at a pace this planet can’t keep up with. And it doesn’t help…” He groaned. “…that Cherry Tree’s boss is a monster in disguise.”

He rubbed his temple in frustration. “When he comes back, I can already see it—he’s going to shove that broomstick so far up my—”

A sharp laugh cut him off.

His assistant stood nearby, arms crossed, her presence sharp enough to make the reinforced walls creak slightly. She radiated danger with every breath, her Blade Force slicing the air without motion. The entire office had been customized just to survive her idle existence.

“You’re not wrong,” she smiled. “Want me to take care of him when he returns?”

Ren Sui paled, waving his hands frantically. “Absolutely not. You’d turn the continent into sashimi. The only reason I’m still alive in this room is because of my Fate Force. If I unseal you, we’re the ones who’ll get annihilated.”

She shrugged, unfazed.

“Offer still stands.”

Ren groaned into his hands. “This planet’s going to implode from talent alone…”