Despite the stillness in the air, Claude's mind churned like a storm-tossed sea.
"Splendid! Simply, splendid! I came to this small coastal city in search of money and information, yet here I am... dealing with a demon cat," he fumed inwardly.
The creature before him, which he'd described as a cat, radiated an all-too-familiar aura—eerie, chaotic, inhumane. Claude had come to associate these traits closely with one place—the subspace.
His thoughts were abruptly cut short as the creature lunged at him, its maw wide open, revealing rows of jagged teeth.
Without hesitation, Claude summoned a whip of water, lashing it towards the oncoming threat.
Crack!
The whip struck true, sending the creature hurtling into a nearby wall, denting it. Yet, the creature wasn't dead. Instead, a thick black mist poured out from its form, shrouding it.
Claude's eyes narrowed as he coated the ground around him in ice, preparing for whatever came next. The mist slowly dissipated, unveiling the creature's true form.
It stood hunched and predatory, its skeletal frame draped in taut, sinewy flesh. Its limbs ended in razor-sharp claws.
The creature's head was an unholy amalgamation of reptilian and skeletal features—a broad, flat skull with empty eye sockets, and a snout lined with needle-like teeth.
A ridge of jagged, bony protrusions ran down its spine, leading to a whip-like tail tipped with a barbed point.
And, unlike most creatures, this one had only two legs instead of four, its lower body hugging the ground like a serpent.
The creature moved with unnerving agility, its belly grazing the ground as it dashed toward Claude.
But as it neared him, its clawed feet lost their grip on the icy surface Claude had previously created, sending it crashing into another wall.
Shaking its elongated head to clear the disorientation, the creature barely had time to react before a spear of water pierced its skull.
Squelch!
Claude watched as the creature slumped to the ground, motionless.
"Well, that was easier than I expected..." he muttered. Despite its terrifying appearance, the creature hadn't posed as great a threat as he had feared. But just to be sure...
He conjured another water spear and hurled it at the creature's limp form.
Suddenly, the creature jerked, attempting to dodge before collapsing once more, the spear lodged deep within it. Another wet, sickening squelch echoed in the narrow alley.
"It was playing dead..." Claude muttered, his eyes narrowing. His probe was a habit born from experience in his time in another world.
Far too often, he had witnessed animals feigning death in that treacherous amethyst forest. And far too often, he had been deceived it.
'I underestimated its intelligence,' he thought. Unlike the brutish Bloodborne and those strange horse monsters, this creature had displayed cunning— something he hadn't ever associated with subspace creatures other than Ag'ourth.
Still wary, Claude sent another water spear into the creature. This time, there was no movement, no response.
"Finally, it's over." He exhaled, shaking his head as he rushedto leave the alley, a whirl of questions spinning in his mind.
What was something like that doing here?
How did it get there?
And, was this city truly as safe as Mr. Pierre had made it out to be?
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At the inn, Claude settled into a sturdy wooden chair at a long, worn table that had seen years of use.
The dining hall was lit by flickering candles and a roaring hearth at the far end. The air was thick with the mingled scents of hearty stews, fresh bread, and roasted meats.
Around him, patrons chattered animatedly, their voices a mix of raucous laughter, gossip, and the occasional heated debate.
The clinking of mugs and the scraping of utensils against plates filled the room, adding to the jolly atmosphere.
Claude unhurriedly ate his meal—a simple dish of roasted duck, seasoned with rosemary and thyme, accompanied by a thick slice of crusty bread and a side of root vegetables.
The duck's crispy skin gave way to tender meat, and the bread soaked up the rich juices, making each bite a small comfort after what he had seen moments earlier.
Yet, despite the comforting meal, Claude's thoughts were far from the herbs he had just purchased at the pharmacy, which had cost him three silver coins. His mind kept circling back to the eerie creature he had confronted earlier.
"Why was a subspace creature here in this city?" he mused, chewing slowly. "They shouldn't be able to just cross over from the subspace whenever they feel like it... If they could, this world would be teeming with them."
His thoughts drifted back to the horse-like monsters that had wreaked havoc years ago, costing him so much.
The same logic should apply to them, shouldn't it? What reason did they have to appear in the village? Why had they attacked?
The only explanation that made any sense to him was the Subspace Network that now resided within him. If that connection was responsible for drawing those creatures into his world...
Claude clenched his jaw, unsure how to feel. If that thing had caused him to lose those he cared about and had forced him onto this path...
He reflexively shook his head, recoiling from the notion. The mere thought of it was unbearable.
Since transporting him to that other world, the Subspace Network had fallen silent, unresponsive to his attempts at communication. Even if he wanted to confirm his suspicions, he couldn't.
Claude pushed the thoughts away, unwilling to dwell on them further. Pondering the past only stirred up feelings of nausea and helplessness, and he wasn't sure what he might do if his fears were confirmed.
Suddenly, the door of the inn burst open with a resounding bang, jolting Claude from his thoughts.
The lively chatter in the room abruptly ceased as a group of men clad in chain mail strode in, their swords hanging at their sides.
Each wearing a dark-blue garment emblazoned with the unmistakable crest of Littourborg—a silver lighthouse standing tall against a stormy sea.