"Sigh, I'm so tired," Enzo sat down after killing yet another monster. It had been over a week now that he had left the campus, yet he wasn't anywhere near reaching his destination. At best, he only crossed over half of Paris.
The past week had been relentless. He had faced not only monsters but also rogue survivors who would attack on sight, driven mad by fear and desperation. It seemed that the closer he got to Versaille Castle, the more dangerous the world became.
Enzo's body bore the marks of his last battle – bruises, scratches, and a few deeper wounds that were healing slowly. Thankfully his healing butterflies started treating his wounds, reducing the pain considerably.
However, it wasn't the same for his clothes. They were tattered and stained with dirt and blood. But he refused to give in to despair. He had come too far to turn back now.
As he caught his breath, Enzo looked around at the desolate landscape. The once-bustling streets of Paris were now eerily silent, with buildings that had once stood tall reduced to rubble. The world had changed, and it was a harsh reality to accept. Even more so because he had spent more than a month at the campus, so he wasn't even aware of how much damage had happened.
But now that he was facing this desolate ruin and silence, only the flutter of his butterflies brought him some peace.
And right now, he was surrounded by more than 200 butterflies.
Indeed after reaching level 50, he could upgrade one of his abilities, and he decided to go with the Butterfly Extraction ability.
Through this change, the maximum number of butterflies he could have doubled its original amount, allowing him to explore new facets of his abilities.
And he couldn't help but smile at all the changes they had undergone. After all, he now had a lot of high-grade butterflies as well
His carnivorous butterflies were more ferocious and tore through flesh and bones with more ease.
His poisonous butterflies could now release so much poison that a whole area could be put off-limit just because of one fight.
His protective butterflies' shields were so strong that even Enzo could break them when they were all stacked together.
His sand butterflies could now create sand traps to immobilize the enemy with more ease.
The illusion butterflies could easily fool any monsters and humans Enzo had encountered until now.
As for his healing butterflies, well, they were better at healing. A little too better, even. Every time they healed him, it was as if his skin changed and became smoother without imperfection.
While he was average before, he could be considered handsome now.
"Well, who cares about that when I might die in less than a year?" Enzo shook his head as he rested a little bit more. After all, the monsters outside of the campus were a lot more... dangerous.
It was as if they had more time to evolve, or rather, had much more opportunities to evolve faster.
That was why despite his numerical advantage, he was still sustaining some injuries here and there.
"Guess I would have already lost an arm or a leg if it wasn't for the teacher." Despite her peculiar way of training him, he still couldn't deny the effectiveness of it.
Enzo's thoughts wandered back to his teacher. She had pushed him beyond his limits, both physically and mentally, and it had often left him questioning his own abilities. But now, as he faced the horrors of the post-apocalyptic world, he realized just how essential that training had been.
"She was right," he muttered to himself. "Survival out here isn't just about brute strength. It's about strategy, adaptability, and knowing when to fight and when to run."
As if on cue, a distant growl echoed through the ruined streets. Enzo tensed, his butterflies forming a protective barrier around him. He peered into the shadows, trying to discern the source of the sound.
Out of the darkness emerged a grotesque, mutated creature, a far cry from the monsters he had encountered before. Its elongated limbs and razor-sharp claws were a testament to the horrors that the world had unleashed.
However, when he took a closer look, he could see that the abomination was injured.
It wasn't bite marks or claws having ripped its skin. No, it was a sword. He was sure of it.
'Need to hide.' He quickly summoned his wings and started distancing himself from the abomination, his butterflies followed suit.
As he retreated into the shadows, he watched the injured creature stumble and sway, leaving a trail of blood behind. The fact that it was wounded gave Enzo a sliver of hope – if it was weakened, he might have a chance to escape its notice or whoever trying to kill it.
Flapping of his wings, he thought about his teacher's words once again. He remembered her emphasis on reading his surroundings, finding the right moment to strike or retreat. The desolation around him had become his classroom, and every challenge he encountered was a test of the skills she had imparted.
However, just before he could mutter a plan and act, an arrow suddenly cut the wind before launching itself inside the abomination's back.
'An arrow now? Is it a group?' Enzo thought quickly as he retreated even more. However, he continued watching over the area through his butterflies.
From the darkness beyond, figures began to emerge. They moved with precision and purpose, their movements coordinated and disciplined. Enzo's butterflies flitted closer, allowing him to get a better look at the newcomers.
They were survivors, like him, but they were unlike any he had encountered before. They wore weathered clothing and carried an assortment of weapons—bows, swords, and firearms. They moved as a unit, their faces hidden behind masks and goggles, giving them an air of mystery.
Enzo's mind raced as he tried to make sense of the situation. Were these survivors here to help him, or were they just as dangerous as the abomination they had attacked? He couldn't afford to make a wrong move.
One of the survivors, a figure with a particularly imposing presence, stepped forward. They signaled to the others, and they began to circle the wounded creature cautiously, their weapons trained on it. The leader appeared to be assessing the situation, perhaps deciding whether to finish off the injured abomination or leave it be.