Born into wealth and privilege, Guz Winston had never known a life of hardship. He was accustomed to getting whatever he wanted—whether through money or sheer brute force. It was this very privilege that had allowed him to acquire his prized possession, StormBreaker.

  Forged with rare arcane metals and worth a staggering 30,000 Mana Stones, this powerful weapon was imbued with a deadly effect. Each consecutive strike it landed increased the chance of a critical hit, allowing its wielder to deal progressively more devastating blows. But what made it truly terrifying was its active skill—Storm Bolt. A single hit would momentarily stun his target, leaving them helpless for follow-up attacks. With this combination, Guz had effortlessly crushed countless opponents in the past.

  And yet, now, he was seething with rage.

  The filthy druid had dared to hint that he was responsible for stealing Guz’s Golden Harpy. He had been so enraged that his vision blurred with fury. He couldn't confront the druid directly or accuse him outright, though—not without risking exposure. After all, Guz himself had stolen the Soul Fragment just days before. If he pushed too hard, someone might start asking the wrong questions.

  No, a direct confrontation was too risky.

  Instead, he would settle this in a way that suited him best—through battle.

  A duel was the perfect opportunity. Initially, he just wanted to intimidate and threaten the little druid, while waiting for an opportunity to finish him off later. But unexpectedly, the cocky little druid had accepted his challenge without hesitation.

  Guz licked his lips, his eyes flickering toward the sub-space pouch attached to the druid’s belt.

  He knew something that most adventurers did. Druids were weak.

  But they had one thing that everyone wanted—their sub-space inventories.

  Unlike standard adventurer inventories, which were limited in capacity and functionality, a druid’s sub-space inventory was an exceptional piece of magical craftsmanship. Created through nature-based spatial magic, these inventories were not only vastly larger, but they also came enhanced with rare abilities—including weight manipulation, automatic sorting, mental retrieval, and more.

  A basic druid-crafted inventory alone could be worth over 5,000 Mana Stones—and the one that druid carried? It had to be even more valuable.

  The more Guz thought about it, the more he grinned.

  Not only would he get to crush the druid and release his anger, but he could also loot something truly valuable.

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  “This is going to be an easy fight,” he thought to himself.

  Even if the druid had some tricks up his sleeve, it wouldn't matter. Guz had just consumed a Moraxus Soul Fragment, which perfectly complemented his brute-force build. His strength and endurance had been enhanced to terrifying levels. Against any other opponent, this would already be over.

  But this fight was not going as expected.

  ***

  “AAARGH! I’LL KILL YOU, YOU LITTLE RAT!”

  Guz’s voice thundered across the battlefield, but there was something else in his tone—frustration.

  No matter how hard he swung, chased, or lunged, he couldn’t land a single solid hit.

  The damned druid kept dodging—his movements frustratingly precise. Even when Guz thought he had him cornered, the druid would slip away at the last second, leaving him swinging at empty air.

  It wasn’t just annoying.

  It was humiliating.

  And worse—something felt off.

  At first, the druid’s attacks had been weak, barely more than annoying scratches. But as time passed, Guz realized his limbs felt heavier. His breathing had grown labored. His stamina was draining far faster than expected.

  He gritted his teeth.

  “Fuck it… I still can’t use my new skill.”

  Then—

  BLAAAR!

  A deafening roar of wind exploded within his body.

  In an instant, the druid’s signature Wind Cutter attacks transformed into a howling tornado, its razor-sharp winds tearing into Guz’s flesh.

  [WARNING: Your HP has fallen below 20%. Active Skill—Frenzy is now available.]

  Blood dripped from countless wounds, but Guz’s lips curled into a savage grin.

  He wasn’t done yet.

  [WARNING: Your HP has fallen below 10%. Passive Skill—Ironhide activated. +10 Physical & Magical Resistance. Partial HP Restored.]

  A sudden surge of power flooded through his body. His wounds stopped bleeding. His skin hardened, becoming an impenetrable layer of reinforced flesh.

  And then—

  [Frenzy activated: +200% Attack Speed, +50% Movement Speed. Incoming Damage Increased by 200%.]

  Guz shuddered as the transformation took hold.

  A dark energy pulsed through his veins, setting his muscles ablaze with raw power. His limbs felt lighter. His mind burned with a singular focus. His pupils dilated, turning into crimson slits, and his breath grew ragged—not from exhaustion, but from pure, unrestrained bloodlust.

  His entire world narrowed to a single, burning target—

  The druid.

  The prey standing before him.

  Now was the time.

  “Now you die, druid,” Guz growled, his voice guttural and warped by the raw power coursing through him.

  Without hesitation, he hurled his warhammer. It tore through the air, a deadly projectile that no one had ever dodged before. The moment it left his grip, Guz charged, closing the distance in a heartbeat.

  The instant his warhammer snapped back into his palm, he gripped it with both hands, raised it high above his head, and swung downward with every ounce of strength he possessed.

  CRAAAACK!

  A sound like shattering stone echoed across the battlefield.

  Everything—the roars of the crowd, the howling wind, the very air itself—seemed to go silent.