Hope flexed his fingers, the thick layer of dark, coagulated blood clinging to his hands like a second skin. The sensation was unpleasant—sticky, warm, and reeking of something both metallic and foul. He exhaled through his nose, the stench of death and burnt chitin settling heavily in the air. His arms ached from exertion, his muscles stiff from both the battle and the gruesome task of extracting the soul cores.
He took a step back, casting a final glance at the lifeless scavenger corpses sprawled across the cave floor. The battle had been short but brutal, leaving behind scorched shells, broken limbs, and the lingering scent of charred flesh.
A sigh escaped his lips—part exhaustion, part frustration.
Nefer, who had been resting against the cave wall, finally pushed herself to her feet. Her movements were slow, weary, but determined. She stepped over the remains of a scavenger and reached down, collecting the extracted cores. Their faint glow pulsed weakly against the darkness, a remnant of the creatures' once-vibrant energy.
Without hesitation, she handed two of the cores to Massa.
Massa, though still visibly drained, clenched her fist around them. A flicker of power stirred in the air as the cores crumbled into fine dust, dissolving into glowing particles that seeped into her skin.
Almost immediately, a bit of color returned to her ghostly pale face. Her breathing steadied, and though she still leaned on her staff for support, she seemed significantly less fragile.
Nefer followed suit, crushing the remaining core in her palm. The moment its essence was absorbed, her posture relaxed slightly. The exhaustion that had weighed on her limbs lessened, though it was far from gone.
Hope watched the process in silence.
Unlike them, he had no use for soul cores.
Unlike any other awakened, he didn't require them to increase in power. While others relied on these crystallized fragments of life force to replenish their strength and become gradually powerful,he absorbed something different. Something darker.
Darkness Fragments.
His body, his very existence, was attuned to the void. He could draw strength from darkness itself, from the lingering remnants of the Veil's corruption.
And yet…
A sharp pang shot through his chest as he watched the soul cores crumble to nothing.
Even knowing he didn't need them, watching their potential vanish so carelessly still stung. He could have sold them. Bartered them. Stored them for an emergency. Instead, they were gone—dissolved into Massa and Nefer's bodies like dust in the wind.
He shook the thought away.
It wasn't the time to dwell on such things.
He turned his attention back to Nefer, who now stood with her hands on her hips, surveying their surroundings.
"What now?" he asked.
Nefer exhaled, her gaze shifting toward the mouth of the cave. Beyond its jagged opening, the landscape was bathed in the dim glow of the shattered moon. The fractured sky cast eerie beams of light across the barren wasteland, illuminating the cracked ground and the distant, shifting shadows.
"We move," she said. "We can't stay here."
Hope frowned.
She wasn't wrong, but… it wasn't a great idea either.
"We're exhausted," he pointed out. "If we run into anything else, we won't survive."
Nefer met his gaze, her expression unreadable. "And if we stay here, we might not survive either."
She gestured toward the corpses surrounding them.
"The scent of blood. The noise of our fight." Her voice was grim. "It's going to attract something. Maybe worse than scavengers."
Hope clenched his jaw.
She had a point.
Even now, he could feel the weight of unseen eyes pressing against them. The night in The Ashlands was never truly empty. There was always something lurking, something waiting. Staying meant risking another battle in their weakened state.
Leaving, however, meant marching across open terrain with little energy left to defend themselves.
Neither option was good.
But if he had to choose…
He exhaled. "Fine."
Massa was already pushing herself upright, gripping her staff tightly for support. She was still unsteady, but at least she could move.
Hope turned toward the scavenger corpses one last time. Their remains were already starting to cool, the embers of Massa's fire spell flickering out. He eyed the charred meat with mild interest before grimacing.
Unsurprisingly, it was inedible.
Too burnt. Too tough.
Wasteful.
He sighed in regret but didn't dwell on it. They had no time to waste.
Stepping forward, he adjusted the straps of his newly acquired armor. The weight was unfamiliar, but it was better than nothing.
Then, without another word, the three of them began their march into the dim light of the shattered moon.