The shattered locket cling to William's chest like a second skin as he crawled out under the oak tree covered with moss where he'd lain motionless for two days.
Sunlight, cold and strange, pierced his eyes. He doubled over, breathing fire as his lungs rediscovered the process of breathing. Memory returned in broken fragments: the beast horde,mayor Li's death,his injury, fleeing the Plowhorn, the crimson red drop of liquid, strange power, unimaginable agony,
then… nothing. Until now.
He quickly got up and rushed towards Kasha.
Not merely destroyed, but obliterated. Where the thriving, wood-and-stone village once stood, nothing but charcoaled earth and bare foundations were left. A makeshift signpost, driven into the earth, pointed west with a hasty arrow and letters:
"Evacuation Route – Rekka Village – 20 Km".
The air hung heavy with the scent of damp earth, and something metallic, like old blood.
William walked towards what used to be his home. Somehow, the little cottage on the edge remained, albeit its roof had partially caved in.
His limited equipment – an old leather bag, a water bottle,a small packet of synthetic food, some clothing– was undisturbed. He loaded it up with numb accuracy .
His movements suddenly halted, his eyes fixed on a broken mirror, the image was not like his usual self.
His body… it felt different.
Lighter. Sharper. The crimson drop hadn't merely healed William; it had reforged him.
Where before his body had been gaunt inscribed with lines of poverty and close-starvation, now lean muscle rippled under skin. His green eyes, before dull with fatigue, now glittered with sharp, vigilant clarity that noticed nothing in the barren wasteland. The lingering pain of his old Tier zero body – the relentless fatigue was gone, to be replaced by a humming energy.
He was stronger, quicker, senses buzzing with an almost electrical sensitivity.
**********************************
The woods between Rekka and Kasha had always been dense, but now it was like the forest was alive. Shadows appeared to be darker, rustling of leaves with a hint of evil.
On the first day, a wolf like beast, its fur clotted with radiant green slime and eyes blazing with unnatural hunger, came leaping out of the underbrush. William moved on reflex, his short sword flashing. The combat was savage, awkward, but for that odd new energy, he came out on top.
The second day saw more encounters. A massive, poisonous spider fell from the canopy overhead; a herd of razor-toothed rabbit burst through the thick grass. Each battle was a frantic dance, but William was beginning to get used to it, moving quicker, hitting harder, his senses stretching to detect the slightest rustle or movement in the air.
He ate the meat at night, the peculiar energy in it penetrating his bones, mending his small injuries and making him more aware. He was reconstituted. Not only cured, but actually augmented past his previous, ordinary state.
On the third night, huddled in a small cave as dusk gave way to night, William cooked a stew using the meat of yesterday's kill.
Chewing, he was hit by a sudden, burning agony stabbing through his center in his chest, as though his bones were being pulverized and remade.
He doubled up, gasping, unable to make a sound. From pores, a thick, gooey material seeped – not blood, but something darker, like liquid darkness or black oil, reeking vile like ozone and sulfur gas combined in a jar. The pain grew, a white-hot furnace inside him, then just as quickly stopped.
The black tar clung to his skin, sticky and cold, before flaking off like dead bark. He lay there panting on the cold stone, dripping with sweat and the leftover black tar.
But the fatigue was forgotten. Replaced by an overwhelming feeling of power. His muscles were heavy, springs ready to unwind. His eyes clearer. He could hear the insects scurrying yards off. He curled his hand, feeling the raw power pulsating in his veins.
* TIER-1*
The realization hit him like a physical blow. He'd broken through after so long.
The world felt…. smaller, more manageable but dengerous as always.
The fourth day broke clear and falsely serene. After cleaning himself from the black tar in the river, William walked with renewed confidence, his footsteps noiseless on the forest floor, his senses ever alert.
The way to Rekka was more distinct now, indicated by every now and then snapped branches or abandoned equipment – traces of the evacuation.
He reckoned he was about five Km from the outskirt of the village.
Abruptly he saw a group of youths likely thirteen or fourteen years old – were struggling to stay alive.
They were surrounded by beasts .
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