Sword Art Online: Moonlight Swordman.

After a short one‑hour rest, Ren returned to his familiar rhythm, fast, precise, cautious.

In just a few minutes, two more Dire Wolves fell beneath the blade of Windslash, raising the count:

[Dire Wolf: 12 / 15]

Despite sweat already beading on his temples, Ren didn't slow down. Three more. Just three to go, and today's monster‑hunting quest would be complete.

No more hiding in the forest, no more lingering howls echoing through the woods.

[Current EXP: 269 / 2200]

But Ren wasn't satisfied with just the quest monsters. Any creature in sight that he could defeat, he attacked, no hesitation.

Not out of bloodlust, but because every monster was a source of resources, a small piece in the journey of leveling and upgrading.

Windflies, Mist Serpents, even a few lizards in the forest, they all fell one by one under his blade.

Some dropped valuable items: Venom Stingers, Shimmer Scales, Pure Honey, or other useful materials.

He could keep some to strengthen Windslash, others to fulfill future collection quests.

If they weren't needed?

He sold them.

Other players were always ready to pay much higher prices than NPCs, because...

"No NPC sells these materials."

"Farming them takes a whole afternoon. Buying is cheaper."

That's what Ren often heard at the market by the Western Tree this morning…

In addition, side quests like gathering Dryroot and collecting Mírlune dew were already completed.

Each quest granted about 125–150 EXP, plus Cor, materials, and settlement reputation.

Ren did a quick mental calculation:

3 final wolves → ~130 EXP

3 quests → ~400–450 EXP

→ Total: Over 600 EXP

[Projected EXP after turn‑in: ~900 / 2200]

Almost halfway to level 11. And at this pace, Ren could reach level 12 in under two days.

An achievement he never imagined if still stuck on floor one, too safe, too slow, too stifling.

Every point of experience there was like scraping earth for mince rewards.

Ren clenched Windslash's hilt. No regrets about coming to floor three, not at all.

This is the mist‑forest floor, where wild beasts hide behind every leaf, where no lazy or hesitant soul belongs. But... here, he truly felt alive.

He couldn't tell how many times he'd asked himself questions like this. Repeated, unanswered thoughts drifting in his mind like smoke.

Monster hunting…

…was much more exhausting than Ren expected.

Not only because every fight was real, with sweat, breath, pain, and danger...

But because… they don't just appear.

Unlike other games where monsters spawn automatically in set zones, at set rates.

Unlike farming behind a screen, clicking buttons mechanically.

Here…

He had to search, observe, calculate, and wait.

Sometimes, being a few meters off the path meant wandering for tens of minutes without spotting a single monster.

Those idle minutes were more exhausting than any battle, fueling anxiety, disorientation, and above all… wasted time.

He thought himself used to that feeling. But now, on floor three, where everything grows more complex and vivid...

This was a world. A world where everything had its own rhythm, its own laws, and where the silence between battles is the most dangerous.

Ren sighed softly. He still hadn't hunted enough monsters. He looked up at the sky, dim through the mist and canopy.

"Keep going…" he whispered, stepping forward.

His footsteps sank into the soft decay below. A hand hovered over the hilt, ready for whatever appeared.

Realizing he'd wandered far from the settlement, Ren returned the way he came, hoping some wolves had respawned.

He tread softly on fallen leaves, the forest's damp haze trailing behind.

Then... a muted sound made him pause.

Was it wind?

No. Heavier. Lower. Like claws scraping moist earth, mingled with a breath ragged in the white mist.

Ren tilted his head, eyes narrowing, lips pressing tight. The sound came not from ahead… but the left.

He stepped back, slipping behind a mossy tree, hand on Windslash's hilt, pulse thundering in his wrist.

The mist trembled. Then a grey shape slowly materialized in the white veil…

Dire Wolves. Not just one. Two. And there might be a third circling from behind.

Ren let out a slow breath, crouching slightly as his other hand reached behind him to grab a dry branch and toss it lightly upward.

The stick fell a few meters away, hitting a bush and creating just enough noise to draw attention.

Two of the wolves turned their heads.

In that very instant, Ren moved.

No sound.

Just a single horizontal slash like a flash of lightning, and red pixelated fragments scattered like shattered glass.

...

…Ren returned to the settlement, his shoes soaked in dew, stepping lightly along the wooden path that curved along the forest's edge.

It was still early; the sun hadn't yet descended from its peak. But Ren felt a quiet satisfaction, he had completed everything he set out to do for the day.

15 Dire Wolves, 10 drops of dew from the Mírlune tree, 8 Dryroot samples, all tucked away neatly in his inventory.

…Which, by now, had started to become a real burden.

Ren's movement speed had slowed noticeably. Despite allocating quite a few points into VIT, his carrying capacity was still limited.

This sluggish sensation... annoyed him. Not enough to be considered a full burden, but enough to feel like something was dragging him down.

Another thing to note: missions taken from the quest board were convenient, but completing them required finding the original NPC who gave them.

And so, Ren began a small round trip around the settlement, Zumfut, where houses were built into giant tree trunks, where the mist still lingered beneath mossy rooftops.

The first person he sought was an old woman near the central square, the NPC who had given him the Dryroot gathering quest.

"Oh... you did well," the elderly woman said warmly, her hands trembling slightly as she accepted the bundle of roots Ren offered. "Smells just right… freshly picked, not too long ago."

[Quest Complete: "Collect Dryroot"]

[+137 EXP]

[+250 Cor]

[+1 Bag of Dried Powder (Crafting Item – Light Healing)]

Ren nodded, not stopping, and continued toward the southwest of the settlement, to a tall hunter stoking a fire, the one who had tasked him with slaying Dire Wolves.

"You don't look too bad, kid," the man grinned, taking the list of slain beasts along with a few materials like fangs and fur. "Dire Wolves on this floor aren't exactly easy prey."

[Quest Complete: "Slay 15 Dire Wolves"]

[+253 EXP]

[+1500 Cor]

Lastly, Ren stopped at the northern edge of the settlement, where a massive Baobab tree cast its wide shadow. The final NPC, a young woman in a white cloak, looking like an apothecary, was the one who had assigned the dew-gathering quest.

"The dew this morning was especially rich," she smiled, taking the glass vial from Ren's hand. "Thanks, I can start brewing now."

[Quest Complete: "Collect Mírlune Dew"]

[+125 EXP]

[+200 Cor]

[+2 Low-Tier Potions (HP +400)]

Ren opened his status screen.

[EXP: 873 / 2200]

"So it adds up…," he murmured, smiling faintly as he glanced down at his right hand, where Windslash rested like a dormant iron branch.

A productive day. And the afternoon was still long ahead.

Ren left Zumfut's central area, following the shaded path southeastward, where the massive Baobab tree rose like a living tower amidst the misty woods.

Its canopy stretched wide, shading nearly half the sky. Roots thick as a person's torso coiled around the cliff face, and the trunk bulged outward like a wooden hill, large enough to house an entire settlement.

The inn was built directly into that tree. Rows of small wooden rooms were connected by spiral staircases and swaying rope bridges suspended in the air.

Each room resembled a bird's nest pressed into moss-covered bark. Ropes, pulleys, and hanging lanterns created a still maze among the upper reaches of the forest.

Ren climbed a flight of soft wooden stairs, gripping the rough railing. The scent of sap hung faint in the air, accompanied by the steady hum of insects from below, an unspoken lullaby.

He chose a single room in the middle tier, not too high to be cold at night, not too low to be noisy.

The small room had dark wooden walls, a single bed, and a window that opened out to a lattice of vines and hanging nests scattered among the treetops. Outside, the wind whispered through the leaves like an ancient song.

After organizing his belongings, Ren left the room and crossed a narrow wooden bridge that led directly to the training platform built atop a massive branch.

There were no walls, just flat wooden flooring surrounded by safety nets, suspended in mid-air.

A few other players trained silently, each occupying a corner, focused as if on a real front line.

Ren picked an empty corner, drawing Windslash from its sheath. The familiar motions repeated: lowering his stance, rotating his wrist, adjusting the swing force. The blade hissed softly as it cut through the damp, cold air.

Up here, the wind blew stronger. But Ren didn't falter.

Posture, breath, footwork, sword path.

All ingrained in his body like programming. The wooden planks beneath his feet trembled with each movement, and in his ears was the rustling of leaves blended with the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

Ren wanted to use his break time to level up his weapon mastery.

Besides, he still wasn't entirely used to wielding Windslash. Maybe he'd have to switch it out for something more similar to his old sword, if its stats began to outpace Windslash completely.