Solo Leveling: Monarch of Knowledge

(Sunday, June 16, 2026 – 2:17 AM)

A gust of wind rushed through the ruined streets as Mattia landed hard with his boots scraping against cracked concrete. Blood dripped from his mouth as his body is battered from being sent flying earlier, but none of that mattered now.

His crimson eyes locked onto Boris's corpse, the massive carcass lying in a crater of shattered stone and broken pavement.

His breath hitched.

"What… the hell?" His voice was barely above a whisper.

He turned slowly his gaze shifting toward Adam.

The younger hunter stood there, arms raised slightly with an expression caught between sadness and disbelief.

"Hey, don't look at me like that." Adam exhaled, shaking his head. "I'm as speechless as you are."

Mattia remained silent, still processing what he had just witnessed.

Adam let out a breath, rolling his shoulders before his expression hardened. The battle was over, but their work wasn't.

"We need to secure the civilians." His voice carried authority. "Gather the injured hunters and anyone affected by the chaos. That includes those who were caught up in Venin's venom sentinels."

Petruccio, who had remained quiet, finally spoke. "We also need to destroy the remaining sentinels. They won't stop unless their cores are shattered."

Adam gave a single nod. "Then handle it. I'll take care of the rest."

Before either hunter could respond, Adam bent his knees slightly, then launched himself into the air.

The force of his jump left a crater where he once stood with debris flying outward as he shot into the sky as light blue mana trailed behind him.

As he soared above the city, he closed his eyes briefly.

'Awà.'

[Already scanning.]

Instantly, numerous markers appeared in his mind, pinpointing every injured civilian across the city. He had managed to save many during the fight, but only a fraction of the total population had been close enough for him to protect directly.

'Not good enough.'

His hands clapped together.

A golden glow spread from his palms, expanding outward like ripples in water.

Then, with a single motion, he sent a golden pulse of healing mana cascading through the city.

(2:18 AM)

A broken city. Bodies buried under rubble, voices lost beneath stone and steel. Smoke curled through the night sky, the lingering aftermath of destruction. The air was thick with the scent of dust and blood, of despair hanging in the cracks of shattered streets.

And then, light.

A golden pulse washed over everything. It seeped through concrete and steel, through flesh and bone. The dead streets, once choked by silence, stirred.

....

Beneath a collapsed building, a mother cradled her child.

Her breath was shallow with blood trickling from a deep wound in her side. The crushing weight of stone pinned her legs, the pain nearly unbearable wihile her son whimpered in her arms with tears streaking his soot-covered face.

She had whispered her last words to him moments ago. Told him she loved him, to be strong, even as the darkness crept in.

Then, warmth.

The agony vanished. Her body mended itself instantly, flesh knitting back together. The crushing weight of debris no longer pressed against her. Her son gasped as he felt it too, his wounds gone along with his bruises fading.

A soft blue glow enveloped them, lifting them gently into the air. They rose from the wreckage, untouched, whole.

The mother wept. Not from pain. Not from fear.

From pure, incomprehensible relief.

....

An elderly man lay in the streets as his eyes stared blankly at the sky.

He had been crushed when the first explosion hit. He had felt his ribs cave in, the life leaving his body long before the dust had settled.

But now, his chest expanded with breath.

His heart beat again.

He sat up, gasping as his hands trembled while they touched his face, his body, his legs. There was no pain. No injuries. He was alive.

He wasn't the only one.

All around him, people who had once lain still, unmoving, now gasped for air, clutching their chests in shock. The once-lifeless bodies, men and women who had died minutes ago, now stood, confused, afraid.

They were supposed to be dead.

Yet they weren't.

....

A young man stood near the remnants of what had been a marketplace.

He had survived the battle, but at a cost, his arm had been severed days ago, long before this chaos, taken from him by a dungeon raid gone wrong.

He had learned to live with it. The phantom pain, the awkwardness of trying to adjust to a life forever changed.

And then, his missing limb returned.

A full, functioning arm. His skin tingled as he stared in disbelief, flexing his fingers, feeling the strength return as if it had never left.

Tears fell from his eyes as he clenched his fists.

It wasn't just wounds that had been healed.

Even old injuries, diseases, afflictions that had once been permanent, were erased.

....

The hunters still fighting the Poison Sentinels felt it next.

They had been on the verge of collapse with their mana nearly drained, their bodies worn from battle. They had expected death at any moment.

Then, power surged through them.

Their stamina returned, their mana reserves filled to the brim. The exhaustion, the fatigue, it was gone. Their bodies felt new, as if they just had the best chicken in the world.

Even those who had already fallen in battle with corpses cold and still, stood once more.

The battlefield shifted.

The weak were no longer weak. The dying no longer died.

A miracle had unfolded across the entire city.

And at the center of it all, high above the skyline, a single figure hovered with his hands still glowing with golden light.

(2:19 AM)

As the golden glow faded from his hands, Awà's voice echoed in his mind.

[You used more mana than necessary. You didn't just heal vital injuries, you restored everything.]

Adam exhaled, rubbing the back of his head. He already knew.

'I got a little excited.'

[That much is obvious.]

He had meant to restore only the critically wounded, but in the heat of the moment, he had let his power run wild. Scars, lost limbs, chronic illnesses, everything had been wiped away. He had reversed time on their bodies itself.

As he began his descent, his eyes scanned the city. The once-chaotic battlefield had settled. There were no more screams, no more cries of pain, only relief and disbelief.

Then, in the distance, the flashing lights of Hunter Association vehicles.

The convoy rushed through the ruined streets with the sound of tires screeching against pavement filling the air. As soon as they stopped, officers poured out, armed and ready.

But as they took in the scene before them, the uninjured civilians, the controlled battlefield, the utter lack of casualties, they hesitated.

This wasn't what they had expected.

Some immediately rushed forward to assist the civilians, checking their vitals despite their obvious perfect condition. Others moved toward the weaker hunters, but there was nothing to treat.

Adam touched down lightly with his feet barely disturbing the dust as he turned his gaze toward Petruccio.

The Phantom Assassin had already approached one of the officers, a man in a dark suit who immediately gave him a slight bow.

"Sir." the officer greeted with respect, in a formal tone.

Petruccio simply nodded as his usual easygoing nature is replaced with stoic professionalism.

Meanwhile, Adam extended his hand and a soft blue glow enveloped the young girl on the building as she floated gently downward with her small frame landing softly on the pavement.

She clutched the ornate box tightly with her eyes darting between Adam and the two men before her.

Adam walked forward, leading her toward them.

----

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