What is this thing…?
Eldros's eyes gleamed.
It can preserve the dead... and heal the living?
His grip on the apple tightened. He glanced around, heart racing, wary despite the silence. He didn't expect to find another soul here, but caution had kept him alive this long.
Without lingering, he sprinted back toward his hide out. Strangely, he wasn't winded. Normally, this pace would exhaust him within an hour. But now, even after more than that, his body felt light and full of bursting strength.
On the way, he caught a stunned rabbit mid-run. He didn't kill it, live creatures kept better. They stayed longer and he could eat it anytime.
Reaching the tree hollow before nightfall, he didn't let relief dull his instincts. The Tower of Heaven eye had changed the city, and when night came, so did the evil spirits—inhuman things born from mass death. He'd heard their laughter before, drifting in the dark like a whisper from another world.
You don't look at a evil spirit or it would look back. You don't touch it. You don't even get close at all. You avoid it like vomit.
Some said they only moved at night. Eldros wasn't so sure.
Without slowing, he darted into his tree hollow and sealed the entrance. Only then did he sit, cross-legged, as the silver apple glowed in his palm, casting shifting light over the walls.
Eldros opened his jerkin and inspected his chest. The wound had nearly closed. Scar tissue was fading.
It restores strength. Heals wounds. Replenishes life force. What else can it do? He was eager to find out.
This apple might be connected to the Tower of Heaven light but regardless of its origin, it was an incredible treasure, something no gutter dweller like him should ever possess. He was sure of it. Just like the Arcana art book he took from the ruined Lord's building.
If others saw it, they would kill him without hesitation.
He had to hide it.
He pulled out the unconscious rabbit, bound its mouth and made a small incision.
As he pushed the apple closer, the air around them rippled with energy, mana poured into the rabbit from every direction, far more than Eldros had ever sensed while practicing.
The rabbit thrashed violently. He struggled to restrain it, barely managing to snap its neck after several tries. That strength… it wasn't natural.
He retrieved the apple and studied it.
The rabbit didn't die from the apple. It got stronger.
He looked down at his own wound. Then, he looked at the apple. His face hardened and then without hesitation he bit into it. Agony flared, but he gritted his teeth. There was no safer hiding place than inside himself, and no better way to gain its power than to take risks.
What did he have to lose? He lost everything when he died in the gutter by the sewers. Rival gangs beating his drugs ridden body.
This time though...he was given another chance and he would make use if it. He won't let himself be weak again.
He mouth was cold and hot at the same time, his eyes stung and it felt as if his head would explode but he didn't stop eating it.
Instantly, he felt it, mana rushing toward him in waves. From the air, the ground, from everything. So much that his skin turned faintly dark.
The Noxium was thick in the power, but he had expected that.
He activated the Hand of the Demon arts.
His chest lit up with silver light that filled his eyes with an angry glow and the image of the silver apple changed and turned into something that resembled a rune in his mind.
He didn't have much time to study it.
As he stimulate it, something extraordinary began to happen!
The Noxium was separated, and only pure spirit power flowed into his body. It roared through his body like a flood.
Popping sounds rang out from within. It felt like something stuck inside him was breaking apart. His muscles surged. His flesh tingled with vitality.
A vivid image formed in his mind—a Demon hand.
The Hand of the Demon wasn't a magical Arcane Art. It was a Magus Primaris Arcane Art which focused on body enchantments.
Ten stars, each tied to a stage of the Initiate of the Arcana, the first stage of the Magus Advancement.
The crystal in his chest spun like a vortex, pulling in energy from all around. His mana surged forward.
Time passed. Filth seeped from his pores, black, reeking. It coated his body like tar.
Then the energy stopped.
He opened his eyes. They glowed silver in the dark.
He blinked. Despite the pitch-black hole, he could see everything clearly.
Amazed, he stood and punched the air. Wind cracked against the wooden wall.
He pushed his cloth up and saw it. A dark spot, no bigger than a coin marked his abdomen.
The mark of the Noxium
He'd broken into the first star of the Initiate of the Arcana. He used initial power of the silver apple to break advance.
According to the book, every time he advanced, a new coin would appear. Each Arcana art had a specific location for thes marks. For the Hand of the Demon, it was the left arm.
He stared at the mark, rubbing it with fascination. Then, still flushed with excitement, he crept to the crack in the wall and listened.
Nothing.
No beasts. No laughter. No rain.
His heart pounded.
He waited in silence.
Then...light. A golden ray pierced the crack and illuminated the cave.
Sunlight.
He reached out, touched it. Warmth flooded his skin.
The rain… it stopped.
Carefully, he unsealed the cave entrance and stepped out. Looking up, he saw no clouds. No haze. Just the bright, unwavering sun.
The city shimmered under the morning glow, golden and beautiful, more than he'd ever imagined. The haze of darkness had lifted.
That means he could safely leave the city ruins.
For the first time in days, the world looked alive.
He breathed deeply.
All around him were collapsed buildings, rotting corpses, and rivers of dried blood. But the sunlight made even the ruins glow.
He had lived, his new body had lived in the slums in this city for six years.
Time to leave it all behind.
He turned and bolted into the city, his eyes flicking, looking for what to take with him.
Suddenly, a voice cut through the air. "So...a rat is here already?"
A few steps ahead, six figures stood scattered in a loose arc, five men and one woman. Each one wore worn gray leather, their bodies weighed down with bulging sacks and assorted gear of weapons that rested on their backs.
Nearest to Eldros, bulky a man with a long sword stepped forward. Scars marred his broad face, and his thick beard twitched as he grinned with cruelty. His dark eyes shone with menace.
Eldros didn't need long to size them up. Their loose spacing, casual alertness, and mismatched gear said it all that this wasn't a disciplined team. These were Foragers, likely strangers temporarily allied for convenience.
There were many like them in Greenhaven, the kind of people who scoured ruins, indifferent to the line between survival and savagery. Now that things have settled down they had swarmed into the ruined city, driven by greed.
Eldros's instincts kicked in. He turned, ready to vanish.
"Running, are you?" the bulky man barked. His voice grew more gleeful. "This one's mine, Jarek!"
Hefting his sword, the man charged. The weapon whistled as it cut through the air.
He was fast for his size but Eldros was faster. Just as the sword bore down on him, he slipped to the side. The wind from the blade brushed his cheek and tossed his hair, revealing his fierce, watchful eyes.
Instead of fleeing further, Eldros turned sharply and lunged. His black disc appeared like a flash of light, and he darted forward, slicing upward toward the man's chin.
The shift from flight to attack was sudden. The illusion of weakness caught the man off guard.
Though experienced, the bulky man reacted a second too late. He jerked back, but not fast enough to avoid the weapon. The iron disc sliced a gash across his jaw.
Before he could recover, Eldros's left hand swung up with a dagger, plunging it into the man's tight. Blood seeped out instantly as the blade pierced flesh, leather and all.
A roar of agony burst from the man's throat. But Eldros was already gone, slipping behind a nearby wall.
He hid in the dark and only his eyes gleamed, cold, calm, and waiting.
Everything had happened so fast that the others barely had time to react. The boy they'd barely noticed had just wounded one of them and disappeared.
Now they were all on alert.
Behind the wall, Eldros ignored the howls of pain. His gaze drifted past them all to the woman in the center of the formation, the one wearing a black leather
She was older than the others. Her eyes were sharp, her posture relaxed but firm.
Eldros sensed mana flowing faintly from her. He didn't need confirmation. This was their leader.
Eldros stared at her.
The old woman met his gaze calmly.
Meanwhile, the wounded man, yanked the dagger from his tight and stormed forward, fury in every step.
"I'm going to kill you!" he howled.
Eldros's hand twitched toward his weapon again but just then, the old woman spoke, voice low and firm.
"That's enough."
The tone was absolute. The bulky man froze.
"But, Jarek.."
"This one's a survivor. Leave it him be."
Reluctantly, the bulky man lowered his head, his breath ragged. As he turned to rejoin the others, he shot Eldros a glare brimming with murderous promise.
Eldros didn't respond. He simply watched.
Then the old woman turned, his eyes flicking between Eldros and the ruins.
"Brat," she said, "Why don't you come with me?"
Eldros noticed the way she said the word personally and not to them as a group.
For a long moment, Eldros said nothing. Then, quietly, he stepped out from the shadows and walked toward them.
The old woman nodded, turned, and led the group onward.
Just like that, Eldros became one of the foragers.