The night wind carried the stench of blood.
He crouched among the dead, holding his breath as torchlight crept closer. The scavengers moved like wolves, their eyes cold, their knives quick. They stabbed corpses to ensure the dead stayed dead, pried open pouches, ripped Gu worms from fallen Masters.
The boy he had become had no strength, no Gu, and no clan to protect him. He was prey.
Hide, he told himself. Just hide and live another day.
But the abyss within him stirred.
Child of the void, it whispered, deep as an ocean trench. Why do you cower? They are meat. Their fear will be sweet. Raise your hand, and I shall cut.
He clamped his jaw shut, terrified at the voice slithering in his head. It was not human. It was not kind. But its promise carried weight.
The scavengers drew closer. One bent over a corpse barely two paces away. His blade gleamed red in the torchlight.
The abyss pulsed. His right hand burned.
Without thought, he raised it—and something black and liquid burst from his skin, twisting, elongating, hardening into a jagged blade that breathed like a living thing.
The man froze, eyes widening. "What—?"
The blade stabbed through his throat.
Hot blood sprayed across his face. The man gurgled, dropped his torch, and fell twitching to the ground.
Silence.
The other scavengers turned, their eyes narrowing in shock and fear. One shouted, "Demon Gu! That brat's alive!"
The MC staggered back, staring at the black blade attached to his arm. It pulsed in rhythm with his heart, feeding on the corpse at his feet. He felt it drinking—flesh, blood, even the faint echo of the man's will—and funneling it into him.
Strength flooded his veins. His breath steadied. His fear dulled, replaced by a cold, predatory calm.
The abyss laughed inside him.
Do you see now? You are not prey. You are the fang in the dark. Feed, and you shall rise. Feed, and the world shall kneel.
The other scavengers hesitated, unease flashing in their eyes. "He's… not using Gu… What is that thing?"
The MC raised his weapon, the living abyss writhing hungrily. For the first time since awakening, he smiled—a cruel, thin smile.
"I don't know what this is," he murmured, his voice low and cold. "But I know one thing."
He stepped forward, shadows writhing around his body.
"It wants me to survive."
By the time the torches dimmed, screams had already been swallowed by the night.
And in the center of the battlefield, the boy who had once cursed fate stood among fresh corpses, his eyes glinting black.
Not a Gu Master.
Not a mortal.
Something else entirely.
A foreign demon in the world of Gu.