Zane had to fight the serpent using only his physical strength—no mana, no weapons.
He narrowed his eyes at the creature, analyzing its stats through the system interface.
"Its Strength and Health Bar are weak… too weak. A regular slap could probably take it down. The problem is its Agility. That'll be the real challenge."
The serpent, having failed its usual sneak tactics, was now in a wary standoff. Its three heads flicked their forked tongues through the air, tasting the environment, calculating its prey. It had expected an easy meal. Instead, it found a calm, confident opponent.
Zane couldn't wait any longer. He approached the twin banyan trees where the creature had hidden itself. As he closed in, the middle head struck like a coiled spring—its long neck launching the skull like a javelin.
Zane dodged by instinct, the attack grazing the air beside him.
Lethal. If that had hit…
The serpent hissed in irritation. It slithered with impossible speed, all three heads weaving in different directions, trying to overwhelm Zane's defenses with misdirection.
Zane ducked, flipped, twisted away from each strike—his weighted body still moving with deceptive grace.
When he finally punched out at the middle head, the serpent dodged again, its sinuous form weaving through the air.
I need to do something about its speed… he thought.
Suddenly, all three heads shrieked in unison. The middle one rose higher and opened its jaws. A greenish mist spewed out, clouding the area in a thick, noxious fog.
Zane's eyes stung. His limbs weakened. His balance faltered.
The poison was fast.
It dulled his senses like a wave of alcohol hitting too hard and too fast—a feeling he remembered from that night in the Rusty Mug tavern.
"Not good…" he muttered as his vision blurred.
Ding!
[Alert! Detected: Poison infiltrating Host's body.]
[Neutralize? Y/N]
"Yes!" Zane mentally shouted.
Ding!
[Poison successfully neutralized.]
His clarity returned in an instant, and his lungs filled with clean air. He took a deep breath and hatched a plan.
Play dead. Play dumb. Let it come.
Within the mist, Zane staggered, letting his body sag just enough to sell the ruse. He kept his eyes half-lidded and mouth slightly open like someone intoxicated beyond comprehension.
The serpent took the bait.
It slithered forward with chilling confidence, all three heads raised like cobras preparing to strike a fallen enemy. The middle head moved first—wide jaws opening, fangs gleaming with residual venom.
At the last moment, Zane's eyes snapped open.
WHAM!
His fist swung up in a blur of motion, striking just under the serpent's maw before it could even blink.
There was no time for the creature to cry out.
The punch landed clean—and everything that followed happened in a split second.
The serpent exploded into a crimson mist.
A shockwave blasted outward, hurling red vapors and scattered droplets of blood in every direction. Not a single drop touched Zane. His stance didn't shift. Not a single bone remained of the beast. Just a red puddle spread silently across the grassy forest floor.
Shelby's voice came from behind him, calm and unimpressed.
"Boy… I told you to hold back your strength. You just wasted good meat."
Zane blinked and looked down at his clenched fist. "That was… just a normal punch. I didn't think I hit it that hard."
His expression twisted in worry.
"How the hell am I supposed to fight in the Ranking Tournament like this? Those opponents… they're not monsters. They're humans."
Here's your polished and revised continuation of Chapter 43, styled in clean, immersive prose while keeping the character voices, emotion, tone, and sequence of events intact:
He looked down at the pool of red.
It shimmered faintly in the filtered sunlight, seeping into the grass and staining the earth where the serpent had once slithered. The thought of turning a fellow student into something like that—a mist of blood and nothing more—with a casual swing chilled him more than the toxic fog had moments ago.
Zane clenched his fists. How can I fight in the Ranking Tournament like this… without accidentally killing someone?
Shelby interrupted his spiral of thought with a voice firm and calm. "Don't worry. The main purpose of this training isn't just about making you stronger. It's about teaching you how not to use that strength."
Zane gave a dry chuckle, followed by a wry smile. "Yeah, yeah. Learn to hold back. But… can I really master that before the tournament?"
"Believe in yourself," Shelby said, stepping forward. "And if you can't believe in yourself yet… believe in me. I've walked the same road."
With that, he threw a punch—not at Zane, but toward a tree nearby.
Zane watched carefully. The punch connected—but the tree didn't even shake. Not a dent. Not a mark. It was as though Shelby had simply tapped it gently.
Then Shelby raised his fist again, this time swinging it through the air.
Zane's eyes widened.
The air shrieked as the punch sliced through it. A visible jet-stream of force exploded forward, and everything in the path—trees, rocks, even dirt—was uprooted and hurled aside for three-hundred meters ahead. The ground shuddered beneath their feet.
"That…" Zane breathed, stunned.
"That was my normal punch," Shelby said casually. Then he turned toward another direction where thick vegetation still stood.
He raised his right hand.
And flicked his fingers.
Bang!
A thunderous wave of pressure burst outward. Trees were blown backward in a straight line, their trunks splintering and shattering. The destruction stretched forward for nearly fifty meters.
Zane's jaw dropped. He was speechless.
"The lesson ends here," Shelby said, dusting his hands off like nothing had happened.
He looked at Zane, who was making the face of someone who just witnessed the birth of a god.
"Did you learn anything?" Shelby asked, raising an eyebrow.
Zane coughed, clearing his throat—and his disbelief.
Then it hit him. Shelby was carrying twelve million kilograms in body weight.
That punch? That flick?
Made sense now. Terrifying sense.
But still… a finger flick? That kind of power…!
"How strong are you, Shelby?" he finally asked.
Shelby gave a toothy grin. "I'm just average."
Zane blinked. "Average?"
"Yep," Shelby continued. "There are plenty of people—even on Earth—who are stronger than me. Not because they're some unreachable gods, but because I'm still pacing myself. Growing in my own rhythm. You don't always need to chase others. Walk your own path."
His voice grew quieter, his tone more serious.
"I once met someone—just one look from him made me feel like an ant in front of a dinosaur."
Zane froze.
"There's someone like that out there?"
The Shelby standing in front of him was already monstrous in strength. The thought of someone who could dwarf that power was beyond comprehension.
"Yeah. There is," Shelby said, tone calm again. "The universe is limitless. Always remember this: there is no peak to strength. There's no end to it. That's just how this universe works."
Zane nodded, deeply shaken—but inspired.
"Good," Shelby said with a firm pat on his back. "Now, get your ass moving and begin the hunt again. This time, I want you to practice using only the bare minimum force. Learn it. Master it. It took me years—years of bloodbaths in dungeons and almost dying more times than I can count—to develop this control."
Ding!
[Quest Failed!]
[Reason: Failed to retrieve the Beast Mana Core.]
Zane flinched slightly.
"Damn… I exploded the thing," he muttered.
But then—
Ding!
[New Quest Available!]
[Collect as many Beast Mana Cores as possible. Rewards will be based on the quantity and quality of the collected Cores.]
Zane's eyes lit up.
I can get stronger just by collecting cores? And this forest is filled with beasts...
His lips curled into a determined smile.
Fine, then. I'll carve a blood path through this forest—but carefully.
This is where I learn to control my strength. What's the need of being strong if can't control it.