Chapter 25: Slash

Chapter 25: Slash

"And I promise... you’re going to wish I hadn’t."

The Mooncat responded with a low, bone-vibrating rumble that rolled through the air like a sinister lullaby. It wasn’t a sound of fear or intimidation—it was anticipation.

Now, no matter how confident I felt—I wasn’t arrogant enough to forget reality.

I felt confident, sure—but I wasn’t stupid enough to forget what I was really up against.

I was level eight while this beast was level fifteen.

A monster not only higher in power but born in this nightmare forest, crafted by its laws, familiar with its terrain.

One mistake. That’s all it would take. A bad blink, a wrong read, and I’d be nothing but blood on leaves.

I readied myself focusing on the beast, then the Mooncat lunged, it motion fast, like a blur of muscle and fur.

Its paw came swinging for my face, claws extended, sharp enough to open my skull like a tin can.

But I warped, vanishing mid-swipe and reappearing behind it, in a crouch, then I angled Gravefang slashing towards its back leg.

But the beast responded like it had eyes on all sides. With impossible control, it rolled its weight forward onto its front legs avoiding the slashed, and then lashed out behind with a powerful kick.



BAAM!

Its back legs slammed into my chest like a sledgehammer, and I felt the breath shoot from my lungs as I was launched backward.

I tumbled through the underbrush, bark scraping my back, until I dug my boots into the dirt and slowed myself just before I collided with a thick tree trunk.

I clutched my ribs, coughing. Shit. That was heavy.

Not only was the Mooncat fast, it was also agile, and its strength carried a punch.

The Mooncat didn’t give me a second to think, as the moment I righted myself, it was already back on me, muscles rippling, fangs bared.

I blinked away just in time, this time appearing in a tall tree above, standing on a thick branch swaying gently under my weight.

The Mooncat paused, its head snapping upward. It spotted me instantly, a cruel smirk tugging at the edges of its mouth.

"What’s wrong?" it mocked, voice rumbling with condescension. "Starting to realize the difference between us? You can leave if you want. I’ll even let you limp back to your cave."

I frowned, adjusting my grip on Gravefang. I could feel the hilt sweat-slick in my hand.

I couldn’t out-muscle this thing.

Not yet.

But I didn’t need to.

I had something better—an edge it couldn’t predict.

The ability to warp infinitely.

"You can warp as many times as needed," I muttered to myself. "So use what you have to the fullest."

Resolved, I exhaled slowly, letting gravity take me as I dropped from the branch like a stone.

But the moment it tensed to pounce, I vanished using warp.

I appeared on the far side of the clearing and the Mooncat’s ears twitched as it turned, eyes scanning, but then I vanished again, appearing high in the branches above, just long enough for it to notice.

Then I warped.

To the left. Then gone. To the right. Then behind.

I was like a ghost flickering through space.

The Mooncat snarled, trying to follow, its body tensing and turning, tail lashing in frustration.

My strategy wasn’t to land a hit just yet.

I was baiting it.

Purposefully moving the way I did to confuse it to break its rhythm.



Every predator, no matter how strong, had one weakness: instincts.

And when you overloaded those instincts—when the senses couldn’t keep up—they made mistakes.

That was my opening.

"You little worm!" the Mooncat growled in frustration. "How long do you plan to run?!"

"As long as I need to," I replied, my voice echoing from somewhere behind it. It turned—again, but I blinked into position over and over, faking strikes, then vanishing.

My goal wasn’t to slash, not yet. I wanted to exhaust it—force it to burn energy, ruin its timing.

One slash.

That’s all I needed.

Just one.

Because Gravefang wasn’t a normal blade. It had a special trait called [Venomous Slash] which ensured that even a shallow cut would weaken the Mooncat over time.

Its speed would dull, its strokes would lag, and that gap between us would start to shrink.

But first, I had to land that hit.

So I persevered.

Again and again.

Appearing at odd intervals, vanishing just as claws swung, breaking every pattern.

I even paused for full minutes at a time, watching it snarl in confusion as the fight’s rhythm vanished.

It couldn’t predict what had no rhythm.

The Mooncat’s patience thinned.

It began clicking its teeth in frustration every time I escaped. Its fur was bristling. Its movements, while still dangerous, were no longer perfect.

It finally lost its temper.

"Stay still!" it roared, charging at a random direction I disappeared in, and that was my cue.

I grinned and blinked to a rock, picking it up before warping again, back into the fray, appearing right in front of the beast.

A bold move.

It swiped immediately and I let the claw graze my sleeve, then blinked again to give it the illusion that it was close to catching me.

Then warp above, below. To the left. To the right. Then behind.

Then, finally—I hurled the rock.

It cut through the air and smacked against the Mooncat’s ribs with a sharp *thunk.



The beast twisted mid-air with lightning reflexes, spinning sideways in a blur of muscle and fur, claws already lashing out in a brutal counterattack, but it struck nothing

Its eyes flicked to the ground.

Then to the rock.

And in that instant—it understood.

Its snarl curled into a grimace of realization, and it spun sharply to correct its mistake—

But it was too late.

I was already in its blind spot.

Already moving.

I didn’t hesitate.

I struck everything I had, throwing my whole damn soul into the swing.

SWISH!

Gravefang flashing down in a deadly arc, aimed straight for...