Tutorial (8)–the massacre....
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[Fiona Observatory!]
Inside a large, luxurious chamber lined with softly glowing runes and enchanted monitors, Fiona was comfortably nestled on a velvet sofa, a half-eaten fruit resting on the table beside her.
Before her, dozens of floating blue screens flickered silently, each showing a group of players trudging through the dense forest.
Most of them followed her instructions—move in groups, share resources, don’t act alone.
“Finally,” Fiona sighed. “A batch that actually listens.”
She lazily flipped her gaze between the screens, boredom already sinking in.
But then… her eyes stopped on one screen.
Unlike the others, it didn’t show a group.
It showed a lone figure.
A single player, quietly moving through the forest.
Capturing monsters. Setting traps. Doing strange things.
“…What is he trying to do?” Fiona muttered, leaning forward slightly.
He was the only one who had gone off solo.
At first, she thought he was another arrogant fool—someone who’d die early, screaming for help.
She turned her head slightly. “What do you think, Bernet?”
The rookie guide next to her looked at the screen, blinking.
He was in charge of that player.
“I… I don’t think he’ll last long,” Bernet said.
“He’s not following instructions. No teamwork, no communication.”
Fiona sighed. “Tch. I told them clearly to work together. If he dies, it’s his fault.”
Officially, guides were responsible for preventing excess deaths in the tutorial zone.
Unofficially… Fiona didn’t care all that much.
She had already gotten in trouble for the number of players who died during the first quest.
Not her fault, of course.
They were just weak.
“Should I go there?” she murmured lazily. But the thought died as fast as it came. “...Nah. Forget it. If he dies, he dies.”
Her eyes returned to the screen, curiosity gradually replacing annoyance.
“By the way,” she asked, “what did he even buy?”
Bernet checked the list. “Just basic stuff. Axes, pickaxe, tools, daggers, fire flint, some meat bait, tools… and ropes. A lot of ropes.”
“Ropes…?” Fiona raised an eyebrow.
She watched as the player dug pits, used monster bones as tools, sharpened sticks with rabbit teeth, and began laying down complex patterns with rope across the trees.
Then came the part that made her stomach twist.
He began… cutting.
Not ordinary skinning.
No—his hands moved with surgical precision, as if he were dissecting each boar not for meat, but for parts.
With their bones, he shaped tools. With their hide, he made pouches.
The meat was smoked or used as bait.
The oil, carefully drained and stored.
Even the fat had a place.
“What the—ugh. Turn it off.”
Fiona covered her mouth and turned her face away.
“You know we can’t,” Bernet said with a pale face, barely holding back his own discomfort.
The screen could not be turned off.
That was the rule.
They had to observe until the player died… or finished the tutorial.
And so they watched.
The player moved methodically. Efficiently.
He trapped boars.
Hunted. Created.
Spread strange mixtures on the ground, tied ropes to trees in ways that didn’t make sense to anyone watching.
“What the hell is he building?” Bernet murmured.
"An escape route?" Fiona guessed.
The hours passed.
And then… he stopped.
He sat down beneath a tree, built a small campfire, and began roasting meat calmly—feeding his captured creatures bits at a time.
Like a picnic in a graveyard.
Fiona narrowed her eyes. “…He’s not too bad.”
Compared to other players, he was calm, self-sufficient, efficient.
Interesting.
When the sun began to fall and the sky turned a deep orange-red, the player climbed up into the tree, taking his monsters with him.
‘Smart,’ Fiona thought. ‘Shadow wolves can’t climb trees.’
She assumed he would just rest there until dawn.
‘Looks like he’ll survive the night.’
And so it happened.
The shadow wolves appeared from the misty woods once more, their silent forms gliding through the underbrush like living darkness.
Their eyes gleamed faintly in the night—yet, strangely, they paid no attention to the player.
They passed by him, as if he were part of the trees, the stones, the earth itself.
Morning came.
Soft rays of light filtered through the leaves, and the player rose without hesitation, as if guided by routine, not instinct.
The first thing he did was feed the six creatures huddled near him.
Each received food from his hand, like a farmer tending his livestock.
Then, he got to work.
He trapped boars.
He hunted. He crafted.
He scattered strange mixtures across the forest floor—mixtures that fizzed faintly and smelled like burning mint.
He tied ropes between trees at odd angles, some leading into branches, others forming strange loops.
Anyone watching would think he was mad and just wasting his time.
Time passed, the sun arcing overhead went to horizon.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
Like yesterday, when twilight came, he lit a campfire—controlled, smokeless, warm—and cooked what he had hunted.
His movements were swift but careful.
After eating, he climbed the tree again, securing himself between its branches.
Hidden, waiting.
Watching.
From the guide room, Fiona leaned forward, eyes wide.
“Looks like he’s going to survive today as well!” she exclaimed, a mix of surprise and glee in her voice.
Bernet nodded beside her, amazed. “That makes two days in a row, my lady.”
"Yes, good."
She grinned and sat back, ready to dismiss the screen and return to watching the groups.
But the player didn’t sleep.
The forest turned pitch black.
And with it… came the wolves.
But what happened was bizarre and unthinkable.
Fiona stood up, stunned. So did Bernet.
“What? Wh–What the hell was that?”
Bernet’s voice cracked. His arms were covered in goosebumps.
“This crazy bastard…” Fiona whispered.
Her gaze remained glued to the screen.
There he was—standing atop the tree branch, black hair reflecting the flickering glow of the flames below.
Blood covered his white shirt.
A calm, relaxed smile on his lips.
And beneath him—the lifeless bodies of wolves.
Not one or two.
But a massacre.
No panic. No fear. No hesitation.
Just cold, methodical slaughter.
He looked down at the burning battlefield like a god observing his domain.
No…
Not a god.
A demon under the night sky.
Fiona couldn’t look away.
“…What is he?” she muttered.
Even the other rookies guides had paused their own observations.
The other screens, once noisy with chatter and updates, now seemed quiet in comparison.
Only one screen remained truly alive.
The one bathed in flickering firelight.
The one where a man smiled beneath the stars.
---
The forest was changing.
From atop the branch, I could see it—feel it.
A creeping shift in the air, the weight of something primal waking up.
Screams echoed from deep within the woods—monsters clashing, running, or dying.
The rustling of bushes, the snapping of twigs, the flapping of wings in panic.
The entire forest was unsettled.
The six creatures beside me were trembling uncontrollably, their instincts screaming louder than words ever could.
And then, the sun vanished beyond the horizon.
Night began.
Darkness fell not like a curtain, but like a suffocating fog.
The kind that seeps into every corner, turning even shadows into monsters.
Then came silence.
An oppressive, unnatural silence.
Like the world itself was holding its breath.
And in that silence, one by one—
Red eyes appeared.
First one.
Then two.
Then dozens.
A tide of glowing crimson orbs staring from the darkness.
“Grrrr!”
“Awooooo!”
“Rgrrrr!!”
Snarls and howls echoed, breaking the silence like war drums.
The trees groaned under the presence.
The very air seemed to hum with death.
I couldn’t see their bodies, but I could see them.
[Glimmering Eyes adapts to darkness]
My left eye pulsed gold.
Suddenly, outlines began to form—faint, ghostly silhouettes against the black.
Enough to gauge movement. Enough to aim.
My heartbeat slowed.
Focus sharpened.
I could see the wolves.
Their formation.
Their numbers.
‘It’s time.’
I called out silently in my mind—
'Inventory.'
The blue screen shimmered into view.
I reached in and pulled out large chunks of raw boar meat—oily, blood-soaked, freshly stored.
I had wanted to keep the full carcasses, but the system’s restrictions on size, weight, and volume were unforgiving.
So I had butchered them beforehand, storing the most useful cuts.
Without delay, I hurled a piece far from the tree.
A few wolves diverted.
Sniffing. Snarling.
Then—tearing into it.
But many continued advancing.
So I threw another.
And another.
More meat. More scent. More bait.
One by one, their attention shifted.
From the tree—
To the feast.
Their snarls turned to growls of competition.
More joined.
Ten.
Fifteen.
Twenty.
Soon, nearly thirty wolves or so had gathered in scattered groups, all drawn to the bloody bait.
At the center of their circle, towering above them all, stood the tree I had claimed as my perch.
And then, I took out the bow and quiver which contained arrows made up of bones and woods.
I had already tied ropes to various trees, connecting them into a web across the surroundings.
Many pouches filled with oil, meat, and animal fats were dangling from those ropes—hidden above, hanging like baited lanterns of death.
[Glimmering Eyes shows the way]
My left eye shimmered golden, and I could see clearly in the night—the outlines of wolves below, pacing, growling, unaware of what was above them.
I took an arrow, notched it to the bowstring, and pulled it back with steady breath.
Feeling the tension, aligning the shot—
I let it go.
Twang—
The arrow whistled through the air and tore through one of the pouches.
Splatter!
A burst of oil, meat, and thick animal fat rained down onto the wolves below.
They barked and growled, some leaping back in confusion.
The scent threw them off—but that wasn’t enough.
I continued to fire.
Twang—Twang—Twang!
One after another, arrows soared and struck, bursting pouch after pouch.
Splooosh!
Sticky, greasy mixtures poured across the wolves.
Some of them were now completely drenched—head to paw—in oil and fat.
They began growling louder, shaking their fur, trying to rid themselves of the substance.
But then, some began to stagger.
Their legs trembled, movements sluggish.
The paralyzing herbs mixed into the concoction were finally acting.
It was subtle, not enough to knock them down instantly, but just enough to slow their reflexes and dull their instincts.
To be honest, I had wanted to mix poison.
But poisonous herbs were rare in this forest.
And their noses were too sharp—they would have caught the scent easily.
But paralysis?
Paralysis worked just fine.
Their eyes glowed red in confusion, muscles tensing and shaking.
Some of them still chewed on the meat I had thrown earlier, unaware of the creeping doom.
‘Time for some fire.’
I reached into my inventory and pulled out a prepared stick.
The top was covered with cloth, soaked in oil and smeared with hardened animal fat.
I took out the fire flint.
Clack—Clack—Snap!
A few quick strikes and the cloth caught flame.
Fwoosh!
A brilliant flame burst into life, licking up with heat and hunger.
Without hesitation, I threw the burning stick toward the soaked ground.
It spun through the air, leaving a blazing trail, and—
Swoooosh!!
As soon as it touched down, the fire erupted violently.
It spread instantly, devouring the ground, racing across every line of oil, every trace of fat.
The fire didn’t crawl—it leapt.
CRACKLE! FWOOM! HSSSSHH!!
A wall of flame surged through the trees.
The earth itself seemed to ignite.
The dry leaves and branches that I had spread earlier became kindling.
I had also mixed oil and animal fats, mixed with dry flowers.
The forest floor exploded in fire and heat.
The wolves howled in panic.
"GrrrrrrAAAHHH!!"
"AWOOOO!!"
"RAAAAGGHH!!"
The light from the fire scorched their skin—but more than the heat, it was the brightness that killed them.
Shadow Wolves—creatures of darkness and silence—were now surrounded by light.
And light was their mortal enemy.
The flames crawled up their legs and backs, igniting fur and flesh.
Their shrieks were not just of pain—but of terror.
Their red eyes blinked wildly, some bursting under the pressure.
They rolled on the ground, smashing into one another, trying to escape.
Snap! Pop! CRACKLE!
Their bodies sizzled in the blaze.
The air filled with the acrid stench of burning fur, boiling blood, and scorched meat.
The fire cast monstrous shadows on the surrounding trees, like flickering demons watching a sacrifice.
"AWOOOOO!!!"
"SKREEEAAHH!!"
The screams and howls of the wolves echoed endlessly, bouncing between trees, echoing like a hellish choir.
A few wolves—half-burned and bloodied—tried to flee.
Their legs barely moved, slipping on the oily ground.
But some still made it.
‘Not so soon.’
I looked to my left.
A thick rope ran beside me—tight and taut.
I drew my dagger and with one swift slash—
SNAP!
The rope whipped away—and with it, a massive tree trunk that I had cut earlier dropped from the branches.
BOOOOOM!!
It landed hard, shaking the forest floor.
The wolves jolted, stunned.
But that wasn’t all.
I let go of another arrow.
Swish!
It cut away rope tied to another tree.
And–!
BOOOOOM!
Another trunk fell.
It landed upon the first trunk.
More arrows launched.
And more trunks were released.
CRAAAACK!! THUUUD!
Like dominoes, they fell, forming a thick, natural barricade—massive logs creating a U-shape trap.
The wolves were sealed in.
No escape.
No exit.
Flames raged around them. The fire had circled in completely.
Trapped inside a sea of fire, drenched in flammable grease, and choked by poisonous smoke—the wolves had no way out.
They howled and cried.
Some bit each other.
Some leapt into the flames, hoping to get out, only to vanish in a burst of fire and black smoke.
From above, on the tall branch, I watched.
Unmoving. Silent.
My shirt was stained with blood of boars.
My eyes reflected the firelight—one golden, one black.
The bow rested in my hand, still warm from the repeated firing.
If it was a normal situation, they might have leapt over the trunks, clawed their way through or scattered wide.
But they were already weakened—burned and injured by the earlier inferno.
Their legs shook, their fur singed and patchy, but their glowing red eyes still burned with vengeance.
[You’ve slain a Shadow Wolf!]
[You’ve slain a Shadow Wolf!]
[You’ve slain a Shadow Wolf!]
[You’ve slain a Shadow Wolf!]
[You’ve slain a Shadow Wolf!]
System messages poured in like rain, one after another, flashing at the corner of my vision.
But I ignored them all.
[Glimmering Eyes shows the way]
My golden eye flickered once again, tracking heat signatures in the smoke.
I had to stay focused.
The battle wasn’t over.
More wolves came.
Drawn by the pained howls and screeches of their dying brethren, a new pack charged into view.
They didn’t run away.
Shadow Wolves never ran away.
Especially not when vengeance called.
Their claws dug into the ground, and without hesitation, they charged through the burning forest.
"AWOOOOO!!!"
"GRRRRRRAAAAHHH!!"
They leapt through the flames, ignoring the fire licking at their bodies.
Their thick skin and insane pain tolerance pushed them forward.
Even as their flesh burned, they moved—blindingly fast.
Within moments, they surrounded the tree I stood upon.
And with a bone-chilling snarl, they activated their skill—
"SHAAA!!"
Shadow Bite!
Dozens of glowing black jaws emerged from their mouths, biting deep into the tree trunk, tearing through bark and wood like it was wet paper.
But I didn’t wait.
I reached into my inventory with practiced precision.
More oil pouches.
Dozens.
I hurled them down, one after another.
Splat! Splat! Splat!
Oil exploded over the wolves and the ground—thick, sticky, and ready to ignite.
The fire responded instantly.
FWOOSH!!
BOOM!!
The flames doubled in height.
Then tripled.
It roared to life like a beast set free.
CRACKLE!!
WHOOSH!
HISSSHHHH!!
The firestorm surged across the battlefield.
The wolves below were caught mid-lunge, their howls instantly swallowed by an overwhelming wall of heat.
Some tried to put out the fire, rubbing their bodies against the thick tree trunks to smother the flames.
But it was useless.
I threw more oil pouches, each one exploding on contact and feeding the fire like it was alive.
The trees themselves groaned as bark burned and sap sizzled.
The forest became a furnace.
"GRAAAAHHHHHH!!"
"SKREEEEE!!"
Their screams were music to my ears.
The once-proud predators were reduced to fiery silhouettes in the blazing inferno.
They had no escape.
The fallen tree trunks behind them, meant to trap, were now burning barriers—further cutting off any way out.
And still—the fire didn’t stop.
The flames danced higher, licking the tops of trees, reaching toward the sky as if to consume the stars.
It felt like even the heavens might ignite.
‘Not that I care.’
I stopped throwing oil.
Instead, I reached into the quiver.
Bone and wood spikes—handmade, brutal, precise.
I began to throw them, one by one.
Thunk!
Crack!
Schlick!
Each spike pierced through burning wolves, delivering quick, clean, ruthless kills.
[You’ve slain a Shadow Wolf!]
[You’ve slain a Shadow Wolf!]
[You’ve slain a Shadow Wolf!]
[You’ve slain a Shadow Wolf!]
[You’ve slain a Shadow Wolf!]
The messages wouldn’t stop.
[You’ve slain a lot of Shadow Wolves!]
[Your rewards are being given!]
[You’ve leveled up to Level 9!]
[You’ve earned a lot of free status points!]
[You’ve earned enormous amounts of TP!]
And finally… silence.
No more howling.
No more snarling.
Just the endless crackling of fire, now spreading to the bushes and smaller trees.
Even the barricade trunks I’d used earlier were burning like torches.
But then—
The sound of footsteps. Growls. Leaves rustling.
More were coming.
From deep within the forest.
From the flanks.
From behind.
Even those who had gone ahead were now returning.
Reinforcements.
Dozens.
Maybe more.
‘Now, it’s beginning.’
I smiled coldly.
“Rookie Guide!”
My voice sliced through the heat.
With a flicker of blue light, a figure blinked into existence in the air beside me.
Bernet, my assigned rookie system guide.
His eyes widened in terror as the full sight hit him—flames, smoke, corpses, melted fangs, burning fur—and me, standing at the heart of it all like a demon king in his inferno.
His voice trembled.
“H–how can I help you?”
I didn’t even turn.
“I want to sell those dead bodies of Shadow Wolves.”
I said casually.
Burned bodies would sell very less or even none.
And selling individual parts would’ve fetched more TP.
But I had no time to carve them up.
"Burned or damaged bodies would sell less or might not even be sold okay?"
He said.
"I know. So hurry up!"
I replied.
Bernet's fingers twitched nervously as he activated the system.
“Umm… sure. Here you go!”
And instantly, the charred corpses vanished into particles of light.
[You’ve earned enormous TP!]
The notification popped up.
I ignored it again.
“Anything else?” Bernet asked quickly, clearly itching to leave.
I turned to him.
“Sell me Light Skill Orbs.”
His eyes widened.
“Light… Skill Orbs?”
He swallowed.
“How many do you want?”
I didn’t answer directly.
Instead, I pointed toward the coming wolves.
“How many wolves do you see?”
He looked, face pale in the firelight.
“Uh… Around 50 or so?”
“Good,” I said. “Then give me 30.”
“WHAT!? 30!?” he blurted out, stunned.
I narrowed my eyes.
“Is there a problem?”
He stiffened. “No! No problem!”
His hand trembled slightly as he processed the transaction.
‘He’s a devil…’ Bernet thought.
A system prompt appeared:
[Your items have been transferred to your inventory!]
I turned back toward the burning horizon.
The next wave of wolves was coming.
They didn’t care about the fire.
Shadow Wolves never feared fire alone.
It worked on the outskirts—where moonlight touched the forest floor.
But here—deep inside—where no light ever shone…
Fire alone wasn’t enough.
Only light magic could mimic the sun’s wrath.
Only light could truly tear into their dark souls.
One Light Skill Orb could easily scare and hurt three wolves.
But I wasn’t here to scare them.
I was here to kill them.
All of them.
"Good. Now wait here. I might need to buy something," I said to Bernet, not even glancing his way.
He hesitated for a second.
“Yes, but… by the way, what will you do if they run away?”
I smiled silently.
“Don’t worry, they won't be able.”
His eyes widened.
‘This…!’
Bernet’s heart raced.
‘He’s planning something dangerous!’
