One moment, Caesar saw the mist-capped mountain peaks, the abyss below, and the cold gleam of a blade behind him—a crimson-armored figure with piercing eyes.
The next moment, Caesar was plummeting past jagged trees jutting out from the cliffside. The descent was too rapid; he couldn't grab hold of anything. His outstretched hand remained empty, and the biting wind stung his eyes shut. Yet, Caesar kept them locked downward, resolute to face his impending death. Was that a dark green pool? Before his brain could process the sight—Bang!—a powerful impact knocked him unconscious.
Time lost meaning. Caesar felt as though he had entered an endless void. He couldn't remember how he got here, where this place was, or even who he was. He wandered aimlessly, running, glancing around, staring into the distance—like a mindless puppet driven by instinct.
Would this go on forever? A thought sparked in Caesar's mind, breaking through the numbness. Then came the pain. A searing, growing agony forced him back to awareness. Light pierced the darkness, like a window opening to the sky.
When Caesar's eyes finally opened, the first thing he saw was a massive, blurred pincer. Shaking his head to clear his vision, he found a peculiar, grey, eight-legged creature with protruding eyes standing on the bridge of his nose. The larger of its two uneven pincers was clamped tightly around his arm. Awareness rushed back, and Caesar realized where the pain was coming from.
The creature was small—about the size of a palm—but incredibly strong. Its pincer had pierced his already battered flesh, adding another wound to his extensive collection of cuts and bruises. From head to toe, Caesar was a mess of injuries. His chest felt especially tight, likely having absorbed most of the impact when he hit the water.
With his right hand, Caesar tore the stubborn creature off his arm. As the pincer released its grip, a faint spray of blood arced into the air.
"Damn it!" Caesar cursed, slamming the creature against a nearby rock.
Its shell was tougher than expected; despite the sharp edges of the stone, only a faint white mark appeared on its back.
Still writhing and snapping its pincers, the creature enraged Caesar further. Bang! Bang! Bang! After an indeterminate number of strikes, the shell finally cracked, spilling white flesh and yellowish fluid. Its eight legs spasmed briefly before going still. Caesar tossed the carcass aside and slumped back.
Surveying his surroundings, Caesar realized he was by a dark green lake, surrounded by pale sandy shores. The lake was cradled by sheer cliffs that disappeared into the sky above. On all other sides lay dense, silent forest.
Who am I? Caesar wondered. Caesar… yes, that's my name. How did I end up here? Images flooded his mind—the crimson-armored man, Uncle Karl's severed arm, soldiers in red leather armor with throats pierced, Dal and Kline's lifeless bodies, Soren fleeing, and the endless abyss below. The memories came in a rush, and Caesar remembered everything.
The brutal encounter with the creature had left him even weaker. His entire body ached, every wound seeping blood. His half-shattered armor hung in jagged pieces around his torso, and his longsword was nowhere to be seen. His clothing was torn, barely clinging to him like frayed strips of cloth.
Attempting to stand, Caesar nearly toppled over as fresh waves of pain coursed through his body. Blood slowly seeped from his many wounds.
Even if I'm alive now, I won't be for long, Caesar thought grimly.
Then, a flash of white caught his eye—a figure floating motionless on the lake's surface. Angelina! The princess, who had fallen alongside him from the cliff.
Despite his exhaustion, Caesar's first instinct was to save her. She was a princess, the daughter of their great King Garrel.
Drawing on whatever strength he had left, Caesar staggered into the water and began swimming toward her. But the moment his wounds met the lake's salty water, agony flared through his body. It was as though someone had poured salt directly onto his open flesh.
Gritting his teeth, Caesar pushed forward, eventually reaching Angelina. Grabbing her with one arm, he paddled desperately back to shore.
Finally, they made it to land. Caesar dragged Angelina onto the sand before collapsing beside her, panting heavily.
The sun hung directly overhead, its light filtering through the canopy and casting dappled patterns on Caesar's face. His lips were parched, his throat raw from the salty water he had swallowed.
Scanning his surroundings, Caesar saw no sign of food or drinkable water. Lying back on the sand, he spread his arms out, surrendering to his fate. There was no way out of this place.
But then—a thought. His eyes drifted back to the carcass of the grey creature he had smashed earlier. Its broken shell revealed white flesh and yellowish fluid.
Driven by primal hunger, Caesar struggled to his feet and stumbled over to the carcass. Gripping it tightly, he returned to Angelina's side. Without hesitation, he took a bite of the soft white meat. It was tender, though slightly bitter. He licked the yellowish fluid; its sharp taste barely registered against his desperation.
He devoured most of it ravenously before pausing. His eyes drifted to the unconscious princess beside him.
She's the king's daughter… he thought. Should he share his meager meal with her?
After a moment's hesitation, Caesar carefully brought a piece of the flesh to Angelina's lips. Feeding her was a struggle, but some of the fluid trickled into her mouth, and she reflexively swallowed it along with a small morsel of meat.
At one point, her lips brushed against Caesar's fingers as she instinctively sought more water. Caesar's face flushed crimson, and he quickly pulled his hand away.
Shaking off the moment of awkwardness, he finished what little remained of the creature. The shell, now empty and cracked, was all that was left of it.
With some strength returning, Caesar's survival instincts reignited. There must be more of these creatures nearby—creatures that prefer dark, hidden places.
Determined, Caesar forced himself to his feet and staggered toward the nearest rock, ready to search for his next meal.