by Noam Oswin
[Your Domain’s Level has risen]
[Your Domain’s Level has risen]
[Your Domain’s Level has risen]
[Your Domain’s Level has risen]
The experience I gained from slaying the wolves was unbelievable. I had progressed from being a Level 1 creature to a Level 8 merely from taking down two of them.
Seven more to go.
The wolves stopped attempting to charge at me. Somehow, there was a renewed spark of intelligence in their eyes. The two corpses floating in the creek, and the tiny lizard, I, standing upon one of them, seemed to have made them re-evaluate their decision to attack.
They were retreating.
Swimming as quickly as they could away from the water and trying to return to land, the remaining seven wolves paddled in entirely different directions. The option to let them go was not even an option. I was not going to take the chance that the wolves would let bygones be bygones after I killed two of their kind – I was not going to take the risk that they might not become even worse enemies in the future.
They made the erroneous decision to attack me. They had to understand that there would be consequences.
I raced across the surface of the water more akin to a shark detecting blood than a lizard. The wolf was a defenseless lamb as it retreated; its neck exposed and it possessed no way to turn around or cover it. I landed, sinking my teeth deep into the neck, feeling my fangs pierce through skin dipping into bone. The paralysis was effective immediately, and I jumped back onto the water’s surface, sliding as though I was a skier being dragged by a speedboat. Another wolf, another prey, another animal defenseless in the water, weak to my teeth. This one was even easier, it felt as though I was biting into foam, into a soft, spongey cake than a flesh and blood animal.
I raced again, feeling my small heart pumping blood faster and faster. I would cackle in glee were I capable.
[Silva Wolf x2 Killed]
[25200 Experience Points Gained]
You have gained a level]
[You have gained a level]
[You have gained a level]
[You have attained the Maximum Level (10) for your current species]
[You have unlocked the suitable conditions for evolution.]
[It is not advisable to evolve in the midst of battle]
Fools! Yes – yes they were fools indeed. Their attempts to kill me would only literally go on to make me stronger. For every wolf I fell, I garnered experience for myself, experience for my domain, and upon my next evolution, the skills and abilities of the wolves would become mine for the taking. I would have all of their strengths and none of their weaknesses, I would move on and progress and evolve – and there would be nothing, nothing that would stand between myself and my goal of walking amongst the world with my own two legs –
[Sixth Sense – Danger Warning!]
The forest attained sudden brightness.
A spherical ball of fire descended upon me from the heavens like a meteorite of extinction. My entire body screamed for salvation from the fire, as the overwhelming heat loomed like the sun plummeting onto the earth.
I dove into the water, and the heat pursued. The water sizzled and I found myself in a makeshift pot, as an improvised ingredient.
[Skill {Lesser Pain Resistance} has gained a Level.]
[Skill {Lesser Pain Resistance} has gained a Level.]
[Skill {Lesser Pain Resistance} has gained a Level.]
[Warning!]
You have attained the Negative Effect: [Severe Burning]
You will lose [10] HP Every Minute until [Severe Burning] is mitigated.
HP: 51/150
I swam, emerging out of the water and unto my familiar rock, rolling and letting out tiny screams that came out as haunted hisses in order to stop the burning sensation.
[Sixth Sense – Danger Warning!]
Another one? No – no –no –
It was smaller than the previous one. Rather than being the size of a shopping cart, it was the size of an over-fluffed pillow. I was the size of an infant’s palm, and as such, the ball of fire was not any less intimidating.
The water was boiling, and my options were to either jump in or to face the wrath of the fire.
No. There was always a third option. Always.
I slammed my claws into the rock, and burrowed deep within. [Earth Control] granted me that ability, the ability to burrow through rock as though it were earth, a tribute from my days as a worm.
I burrowed myself, deep, and deeper still, the tail ends of the flaming ball sending waves of heat down and across the rock. The heat was sweltering, but survivable, unlike the water of the creek that was boiling and hissing.
What exactly was the temperature required for fire to flash boil water? To immediately boil an entire creek? How hot were those flames?
The rock shook as another ball of fire crashed into it. The heat continued to rise as I hid, I hid, and decided to wait out the passing fusillade.
The barrage continued for at three minutes. I could do nothing but hunker down within the rock, my HP dropping from 51/150 to 21/150. Even as portions of the rock began to glow red, as merely touching anything sent agonizing scalds of heat down my body, I hunkered down and waited.
I waited, I breathed, and I wracked my brain for answers.
Things had appeared easy from the start – too easy, and I knew, I felt it, that something was wrong. Yet – yet – I let myself get carried away after a small taste of victory. Watching the wolves retreat, I chose to hunt them down instead of retreating as well and calling it a night.
And the wolves – were the wolves all an elaborate plan? A trick? Were they used as a distraction in order to get me overconfident? Used, as a sacrifice in order to deliver the bombardment? Why? For what reason? If one could fling fireballs, you did not need wolves –
Another fireball crashed against the rock and it began chipping away.
No –
This was irritating. Irritating – for I had fallen prey to overconfidence, I had idiotically allowed myself to believe that circumstances were becoming more favorable. Now, unless I did something, I would die, hiding within a rock, whilst an unknown assailant rained fireballs upon me.
[You have attained the skill: {Lesser Fire Resistance} from enduring significant temperatures.]
[Skill {Lesser Fire Resistance} has gained a Level.]
The sensation of the hot rocks cooled, minutely, and it enabled me to think. Think. I could not assume that my enemy was limited in the amount of fire they could rain down upon me. If, perchance, they were not, then waiting out the bombardment would be a pointless endeavor. I needed to return fire – however I could manage.
Failing that, I needed to stop the enemy from firing, or get out of the range of their attacks.
[Warning!]
You have the Negative Effect: [Severe Burning]
You will lose [10] HP Every Minute until [Severe Burning] is mitigated.
HP: 11/150
My entire body was blistering with burns. Healing myself with [Basic Molting] would buy me some extra time, but it would not be enough until I escaped this situation. But how?
My [David] title would have helped me against the opponent, and my [Jonah] title would be useful, allowing me to enter into a creature’s stomach to escape, but my major issue was the fire. I needed a way to avoid the fire and to escape the creek without touching the sizzling water. The cooldown for [Insectoid Metamorphosis] and [Diapause] were not over, leaving me with no skills capable of escaping this situation.
Another minute passed. The barrage continued.
[Warning!]
You have the Negative Effect: [Severe Burning]
You will lose [10] HP Every Minute until [Severe Burning] is mitigated.
HP: 1/150
I could felt myself get weaker. The world around me began to fade to black, and I frantically used [Basic Molting].
My skin shed, the burns and damages slowly slipping away behind
the old, and replaced with one that was new and unblemished.
HP: 75/150
The Negative Effect: [Severe Burning] has been mitigated by [Basic Molting].
You have attained the Negative Effect: [Minor Burning]
You will lose [3] HP Every Minute until [Minor Burning] is mitigated.
[Skill {Lesser Fire Resistance} has gained a Level.]
Buying myself some extra minutes of time also bought me some moments to think and recollect. I thought about my mistakes. Thought about the moment in which things went wrong. Attacking the retreating wolves felt right. Felt instinctive. They were prey and I was predator, yet, there had lain in me the desire to kill and destroy all of them. I possessed a title that called me [Genocidal] due to my destruction of the anthill, but... was it truly something that could affect me?
Title: [Genocidal]
Details: An epic title. Fighting against opponents of the same species of an enemy you have previously killed grants you +10% Attack, +10% Defense, +10% Damage Dealt and +10% Damage Reduction. For every opponent you slay that is of the same species of an enemy you have killed before, you gain a permanent +25 Points to allocate to either your HP, MP or Regen. Fighting and not killing an opponent of a species you have killed before deducts –50 HP Permanently. This effect stacks upon each consecutive kill for each species.
Species Kill Count:
[Common Rabbit] x 16 = +160% Attack, +160% Defense, +160% Damage Dealt, +160% Damage Reduction against [Common Rabbits]. You Gain: 425 Points on Next Kill.
[Silva Wolf] x 4 = +40% Attack, +40% Defense, +40% Damage Dealt, +40% Damage Reduction against [Silva Wolves]. You Gain: 125 Points on Next Kill.
Available Points: 3,650
For the first time since my reincarnation into this world, I found myself silent. Ramifications ran through my mind, each one less pleasant than the last. To kill a species of living creatures and become better at killing species of living creatures –
If I kill a human... does that mean –
There was no opportunity for me to think about the grander connotations. The rock shattered as it was consumed by fire, and I was engulfed by the inferno. I tried to scream and failed. My lungs were turned to ash. My blood boiled, sizzled and evaporated. My skin melted off my bones and my eyeballs exploded in their sockets.
[Warning!]
HP: 1/150
My brief life flashed before my eyes as I screamed out a single word that would bring me salvation from perdition.
[It is not advisable to evolve under critical conditions. Would you like to evolve anyway?]
[Yes]
[No]
The boiling water claimed what was left of me as I descended into its depths and the world became silent.
Interlude IV
Masakh
They knew nothing of this creature.
They were confused. The creature existed, yes, but it possessed neither the aura of the living nor the cold air of the dead. It possessed neither the songs of triumphs nor the odes of defeat. Instead, there was noise. A screeching, scratching noise that droned with neither meaning nor order. The noise lacked a beginning and an end, and the further they listened, the further the noise grated.
“This is unusual.”
Indeed. They watched their champion, guide the wolves to surround the creature. Despite the noise that emitted from its soul, the physical form of the creature was small. It was a reptile not longer than the back of Kadulja’s hand. Its skin was a mesh of purple and black, its tail was upright and active, swaying to the side. Its golden slit eyes gazed forward –
Be careful Kadulja. They warned her. There is more to this masakh than meets the eye.
“Those twigs and leaves... it created a home?” Kadulja sounds as confused as they feel. “I have never heard of such a thing.”
Send the wolves first. They urged. Let us observe how it reacts.
Kadulja does not complain. Their leader, the strongest amongst their number, howls, and the spirits sing in harmony.
“Spirits of the Sanctuary, grant these noble hounds your aid in our time of need.” Kadulja chants. “[All Boost].”
They filled up the bodies of the Silva Wolves. Strength, Speed, Toughness – all was doubled in preparation. The wolves, felt their aid. The Wolves charged, entering into the creek, charging forward at blinding speed toward their foe.
Something is wrong.
Indeed. Their foe did not flee. It stood upon its home, raising a pebble with its tail and then –
Kadulja! They roared at once. THIS MASAKH –
“It can cast?” Kadulja’s voice is hollow. The pebble is shaped into a smooth spear of the likes they had never seen, and the masakh whips it into the air with its tail. Effortlessly, it tears away a good portion of a wolf’s ear. The howl of pain the creature emits shudders them.
Kadulja falters, tripping over her own feet. “Impossible.” She whispers. They understand why. The hide of the Silva Wolf was strong on its own, but combined with the spirits [All Boost] it could survive direct attacks from spears, knives and daggers.
It should have.
The creature fired again and missed. Without warning – it vanished from its position. No, not vanished. They witnessed a small trail of water appearing on the surface of the pond and found the creature upon the back of a wolf. They did not sense it move, but it had. It moved at speeds they did not, could not register.
Kadulja’s grip on their staff was uneven. Shaky, weak. This is not the time for fear! They demand. Gather courage! We must use the Flowers of Destruction –
The Masakh bit down upon the neck of the wolf, and it went still in the water. Kadulja’s breath went stiller. They could not hear the wolf’s songs anymore. The spirits that hovered around the wolf turned a dull ashen grey. One by one, they ceased.
They react before she can scream. Their staff, the home of their collectiveness, leaps out of the hand of the protector and horizontally slam into her mouth,
QUIET!
“I – It – it –”
We saw it as well.
“The soul – the spirits –” she whispered. “Spirits cannot be killed!”
FOCUS! They roar. Focus Kadulja! Abandon your fear, for if you do not, then not only your spirit, but that of your people will be destroyed by that Masakh!
It took mentioning her people to snap her to realization. The Kadulja possessed a fear for her own life. She, like the rest of their kind, was averse to conflict and fighting, easy to demoralize. Yet, the mention of the threat against her people was the trigger. The Kadulja’s life was no longer important. Her fear was no longer an issue. She would stand and die against a thousand enemies a thousand times before one were to strike against her people.
She stood. Her grip against their staff is stronger and firmer than ever. Her gaze is sharpened as she watches the masakh vanish across the pond, leaping to kill another wolf. All it takes is her aim.
We will lend you our power.
The Flower of Destruction roars to life with the red and orange spirits, sending those averse to the heat and warmth fleeing away from it. Its petals danced wildly in the wind as they channeled their collective energy into it.
They unleash it upon the creek.
The impact shook the earth. Water reaches past the trees and into the heavens, turning to steam. The heat melted away at the creatures within the pond, and Kadulja’s cheeks are wet. They know why. The smell of burning meat and the silent cries of the Silva Wolves are telling.
It is better they die and their spirits re-enter this world, than to be permanently eliminated by that Masakh.
“I understand.”
Again, she fires, the flowers of destruction reaching out to the creek, the red spirits singing a song of woe. Again, she fires, raining down the fires upon the creek that now boils and sizzles, all living creatures within its range suffering for the sake of others. She fires a third time, and they feel their energy rush through her veins. They know, and understand th
at there is a limit to which she can continuously send out the consuming flower.
She fires again, her body becoming weaker, but her conviction only increasing.
Kadulja –
Again, she fires. The water in the creek is bubbling, hissing harshly in the silent woods around them. Kadulja does not stop. She does not let up. Her target is the stone upon which the masakh stood. Its home. They understand that she will not stop until that rock is destroyed.
They help her.
Again, the flower assault the rock. Again, they strike the water. Again, the rock is hit, glowing red from the heat. Again – and again – and again –
Kadulja – enough.
There is no water left in the creek. Burned husks of creatures lay at the bottom of a gouge in the earth. Steam emits constantly from the scar, and the rock in the middle finally fell to the fire.
This rock... could it be?
No. No. Surely it could not be. Surely, they think. It cannot be that rock.
There is no need to inform her of their worries. The Kadulja is weakened and disoriented from the usage of the flower of destruction. Now is not the time to fill her with fear. For if it is, indeed, that rock, and if this is, indeed, that creek –
Then her victory was hollow and meaningless.
“What is it?”
She senses their discomfort. They forget, sometimes, that the ability to sense the other was shared, linked. Nothing. They reaffirm. You have done well.
Kadulja takes the compliment without complaint. “I feel... nothing.” she states.
It is expected. They tell her. The flower of destruction is fueled by your passion; fueled by the most colorful spirits. To use so much of it, is to expend a vast amount of your spirits.
“They will return on their own?”
In time, yes.
Kadulja nods. “Speaking of returning... Shutila failed to do so.”
The Yonder Bears must have refused their assistance. If such is the case, you apprentice may be in danger.
Kadulja breathes heavily under her breath. “I’ll have to use the [Live Root] to get to her in time.”
We will allow it.
She nods and turns, her expression vacant. She gives one last glance out to the destroyed pond, muttering a silent prayer. She would return to cure the damages to the earth and refill the spring’s life, now that it was safe.