As the towering colossal figure strode through the streets, an air of unease gripped the bystanders, discouraging them from even glancing in his direction—except for Kuber.
Kuber's attention wasn't necessarily drawn to the spectacle of the giant man; rather, he was fixated on the giant's status displayed before him.
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[Level] – 23
[Name] – Grendar Stonecleaver [Neutral]
[Race] – Giant
[Bloodline] – Goliath Dominion Bloodline
[Title] – Leader of the Shadowfang Syndicate
[Lifespan] – 59/350 years
[Class] – Berserker
[Unique Skill] – Carnage Eruption(A)
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'Carnage Eruption... What does that entail?' Kuber mused, his hand scratching his chin while he contemplated the meaning behind the giant's unique skill.
Beyond the intrigue of the unique skill, Kuber's attention was also drawn to the giant's title and bloodline. According to the status, this imposing figure was Grendar Stonecleaver, at the helm of the formidable Shadowfang Syndicate—a fact that couldn't be overlooked, as it rendered Grendar a potential threat in Kuber's eyes.
Observing Kuber's persistent stare, Grendar's gaze descended upon him. To Grendar, Kuber was merely a 6-foot-tall newcomer exhibiting impertinence.
"What's this fellow's deal? How dare he lock eyes with me in such a manner," Grendar muttered, his eyes flaring with anger as he returned Kuber's intense gaze with tightly clenched fists.
Unbeknownst to the seething anger building within Grendar, Kuber remained absorbed in the displayed information, his hands neatly folded in front of him.
However, Grendar's patience wore thin as he perceived Kuber's prolonged gaze as an affront, a direct challenge to his authority. Consumed by fury, Grendar's arm swung in a swift arc, landing a resounding slap on Kuber's cheek and sending him crashing into a nearby stall.
"Aahhhhh!" Kuber's cry resonated through the air as an intense pain shot through his leg. A 12-inch knife had impaled his right leg, the result of the collision with the stall upon impact from Grendar's blow.
Concern etched on his face, the elderly stall owner rushed to Kuber's side, urgently asking, "Are you alright, young one? Can you try to remove the knife from your leg?"
However, the elder's courage faltered as he felt the weight of Grendar's menacing gaze, his face turning pallid as beads of sweat formed on his forehead. He stepped back, opting to retreat rather than offer assistance to Kuber.
"I expected more from you, boy. Yet, you wail like a child merely due to a little knife prick," Grendar taunted, a wicked grin playing across his lips as he reveled in the sight of Kuber's agony, his arrogance palpable.
With a sinister air of satisfaction, Grendar leaned in closer to Kuber, scrutinizing him with predatory curiosity. "Hm... upon closer inspection, I deduce that you're a vampire with a frost elemental bloodline, a rather rare combination for one of your kind."
Meanwhile, Kuber remained sprawled on the stall, his focus divided between the excruciating task of extracting the knife from his leg and the torrent of pain that persisted. Blood flowed from the wound, creating a grim scene of distress.
Amid his suffering, an intense resolve brewed within Kuber. "This despicable fiend," he seethed internally, clenching his teeth and casting a deadly glare towards Grendar.
Amused by Kuber's persistent glare, Grendar mocked, "Oh, the audacity in this one. Remarkable."
Grendar's grip tightened as he forcefully grasped Kuber's jaw, drawing closer until their faces were mere inches apart. In a voice dripping with venom, Grendar unleashed a sinister threat, detailing the torment he intended to inflict after the impending ten days had passed.
"You think highly of yourself, lad? Let's see if that glare remains when you're imprisoned in my grasp. Starvation will gnaw at you, and a tantalizing bottle of fresh blood will sit just beyond your reach. You'll writhe in agony, yearning for a single drop," Grendar sneered, his fury manifesting in his tightened grip and fiery gaze.
Without reservation, Kuber responded with a vile, defiant gesture—spitting directly onto Grendar's face. A sinister grin played on his lips, a deliberate attempt to provoke the enraged giant.
Grendar's fist clenched, and his hand gripped his axe with menacing intent, poised to cleave Kuber in two.
Interrupting the tense standoff, a soldier dressed in the signature green uniform of the city guards shouted from a distance, demanding an explanation. Grendar's response was immediate; he withdrew his aggression and exchanged his furious countenance for a casual smile, all in response to the soldier's presence.
"I wonder how long your endurance will last as a famished man," Grendar sneered, leaving swiftly when the approaching soldier aimed to apprehend him.
The soldier paused before Kuber, his expression laden with concern as he extended his hand to offer assistance. "Are you alright, newcomer? What's your name?"
Accepting the soldier's help, Kuber gingerly rose to his feet, the fresh wound in his leg causing discomfort. "Argh! It's quite painful. The knife went completely through my leg. I'm a vampire, by the way," Kuber managed to reply, his voice strained.
The soldier scrutinized Kuber's leg, leaning in for a closer look at the injury. "It's fortunate you're a vampire, given the circumstances. Your appearance gave it away."
Just as Kuber was about to share more about his condition, a sharp pain jolted through him as the soldier unexpectedly removed the dagger from his leg. "Ouch! A little warning would've been appreciated," Kuber protested, his breathing punctuated by the ache.
In response, the soldier tore a piece of his uniform and expertly bound Kuber's leg to stem the bleeding. "This should help control the bleeding. Given your race, your leg should be fine in an hour or two."
Stepping back, the soldier wiped the blood from his hands onto his uniform and reassured Kuber, "You should be alright now, newbie. The bleeding won't be too severe with this makeshift bandage."
Expressing gratitude despite his disappointment, Kuber spoke, "Thank you. Your help is appreciated."
Although Kuber expressed his thanks, his thoughts harbored resentment toward the soldiers whose negligence led to this incident in the first place.
"No need for gratitude, kid. Just get back to where you're staying and stay out of trouble," the soldier stated sternly, his gaze fixed on Kuber's still-bleeding wound.
Without responding, Kuber turned to leave, his limping gait carrying him back to the inn. As he departed, the soldier raised his voice, dispersing the crowd that had gathered around the stall, and eventually left the scene himself.
"Excuse me, sir. My knife... Could you please return my knife?" the elderly man called after the soldier, chasing him down in hopes of reclaiming his lost possession.
Safely concealed within a shadowy alley about a hundred meters from the incident, Kuber gingerly tended to his wound, exerting pressure on it with his hands. The pain was evident, etched onto his face as he sat on the ground.
Amidst his concerns, a piercing scream tore through the air from the nearby street. Curiosity piqued, Kuber peered cautiously from the alley, his gaze fixed on the unfolding scene before him.
"Somebody catch that thief! That kid stole our credits!" A cry rang out as two civilians raced after a young girl, no older than 13, who clutched a credit coin tightly in her hand. Despite her exhaustion and evident malnourishment, she sprinted as if her very survival depended on it.
As the girl rushed toward the alleyway where Kuber lay concealed, he acted swiftly. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her into the shadows and covered her mouth to stifle any screams that might attract undue attention.
"Sshh! Stop biting my hand," Kuber whispered urgently, his frustration evident as the girl continued to struggle against his grip.
Realizing the seriousness of the situation, the girl ceased her struggles, nodding in agreement as Kuber spoke. In response, he gradually released her mouth and her hand, cautiously explaining the predicament they were in.
"All right, I'm going to let you go, but you can't scream like that or we'll both be caught," Kuber warned, watching the girl intently.
As he released his hold, Kuber took the opportunity to check the girl's status:
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[Level] – 3
[Name] – Leona Ravensong [Neutral]
[Race] – Therianthrope
[Title] – Petty thief from the streets
[Lifespan] – 13/145 years
[Class] – Shapeshifter
[Unique Skill] – Morphing Mastery(B)
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In the dim light of the alley, Kuber absorbed the information displayed before him, silently assessing the girl named Leona Ravensong.