The roars had faded into the distance, but the silence that followed was no less unsettling. Lyric moved quickly, his eyes scanning the shifting shadows around him. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig beneath his feet, felt amplified in the stillness.
His body ached from the strain, hunger gnawing at his gut, but he couldn't afford to stop, not now. The Rift wasn't a place for hesitation.
Survival meant constant motion, and right now, that's all he could focus on. With one last glance behind him, he pushed forward, the weight of the unknown pressing down on him. There had to be something, anything, out there that could give him an edge in this place.
After hunting some of the smaller lizard-rat creatures around the crevice and devouring their hearts, Lyric started to realize something. Using his technique on these weak creatures was yielding fewer and fewer results. The power that surged through him with each heart seemed to diminish, like a fire burning through dry wood but weakening with every bite.
The lizard rats were practically nothing, probably not even at the Commoner rank among the monsters in the Rift. They were probably equivalent to unawakened cultivators, too weak to pose any real threat or facilitate any great gains.
Hunting them had become almost too easy.
While the rats could still serve as a food source, he knew using them for his technique wouldn't give him the gains he needed. The thought gnawed at him as much as his hunger did.
Having hunted half a dozen of the creatures, Lyric finally returned to the crevice he had claimed as his shelter. He wiped his knives clean, maintaining their edge, though the bloodstains on the handles were a reminder of what he'd been forced to do. They weren't pristine, but they'd do.
Sitting on a rock inside the crevice, his hunger momentarily sated, Lyric pulled out a small stick he'd broken off one of the blackened trees. With quiet deliberation, he started drawing in the dirt, his mind working through his observations.
He sketched the lizard rat first, its scraggly body and twitching tail, then wrote the word Unawakened next to it. He wasn't sure how accurate this was, but it felt right.
Next, he drew the picture of the massive beast with the overwhelming pressure from earlier. The creature had been an oppressive force, so strong, so massive. He wrote '???' beside it, uncertainty still lingering in his mind.
But then, remembering what little he was taught about cultivation ranks, he erased the question mark. People and beasts didn't gain a presence to themselves until they reached the Baron rank after advancing from Knight rank. The beast's overwhelming presence could only mean one thing: it had to be at least a Baron-rank monster.
He replaced '???' with 'Baron', then stared at it for a moment, a frown deepening on his face.
"If the wild beasts are at the Baron rank..." Lyric murmured to himself, still drawing, "...then that means the boss of this Rift is at least a Viscount."
He drew a question mark next to the word Viscount, his frown deepening. There were too many unknowns, and the pressure in the Rift felt more dangerous with every passing minute. He couldn't let his guard down. Not yet. Not with Baron-ranked monsters roaming around.
'I need to set up some traps for Commoner monsters strolling around,' Lyric thought to himself, knowing he should make as little noise as possible with the possibility of being surrounded by bloodthirsty beasts.
Moving back out of the cave, Lyric started to notice more and more details about the black forest he'd been stranded in.
The sky was black, pitch black, but at least there were now stars in the sky. Though those stars were red. Lyric wasn't sure if he should be relieved to find a way to tell time or if he should be feeling oppressed by the ominous glow of the crimson sky.
"This Rift has no sun..." he thought, feeling the weight of the night press in on him. However, it does seem to have a night and day cycle, with the stars appearing at night.
The sense of isolation hung heavy as Lyric moved quietly through the blackened trees, his thoughts a mix of strategies and plans for survival. He cut off some thick vines, testing their strength by pulling on them. Satisfied with their durability, he tied them into simple, makeshift snares, preparing for the inevitable creatures that would wander too close to the bait. The rats would serve as perfect lures—likely to attract commoner rank beasts but not the larger, more dangerous predators.
Better to catch something small than risk attracting the bigger threats, he thought, making sure his traps were set carefully. He needed to be smart about this.
After setting up two snare traps nearby, Lyric found a large boulder to use as cover, crouching behind it. He stayed still, watching the surrounding area with patient vigilance. His patience, taught to him by years of hunting and waiting, would serve him well now.
The hours passed in near silence, with only his thoughts to keep him company. Every time a sound broke the stillness, Lyric tensed, but each time it proved to be nothing more than the wind or the rustling of leaves.
Finally, a faint snap broke the quiet. One of the traps had been triggered.
With a surge of energy, Lyric moved fluidly through the trees, his body moving with a practiced grace he had honed from years of hunting. His eyes darted ahead, locking onto the first trap. He arrived to find his prey hanging in the air.
His breath caught for a moment as he took in the creature that had taken the bait. It was small, but its appearance was enough to make his stomach twist in disgust. The creature resembled a wolf, but it was far from natural. Half of its body was covered in black veins, its skin mottled and rotting, blood dripping thick and black from open wounds. The stench was putrid, and its flesh was sickeningly exposed in places where the skin had rotted away.
The creature was focused entirely on the snare around its leg, struggling helplessly in the air, unaware of Lyric's approach. The distraction was all he needed.
He moved quickly, stepping silently behind the creature. His knives flashed in the dim light as he sliced its throat cleanly, the blood splattering on the ground. Without hesitation, he stabbed the creature's chest where its heart should have been, hoping to end its suffering swiftly.
The creature's body shuddered, its remaining strength dissipating as it fell limp. Lyric stood over it for a moment, watching as the last of its life drained away.
"Another one down," he muttered, wiping the blood from his knives. His eyes scanned the surroundings, still alert. This was just the beginning.
With swift efficiency, Lyric sliced open the creature's torso, grimacing as he dug out the heart. The sight of it made him wince—half-rotten and dripping with the same black blood that had leaked from its wounds. He knew it wouldn't taste good, but he had no choice.
Inwardly bracing himself, Lyric sank his teeth into the fist-sized organ, feeling the vile blood flood his mouth. It was worse than he expected. The taste was nauseating, a rancid mix of decay and corruption. Almost gagging on the horrendous flavor, he fought to keep it down, forcing himself to activate the [Heartbound Devourer Technique].
A rush of energy spread through his body, the mana filling him like a wave crashing over him. The foul taste lingered, but the flow of power was undeniable. The quantity of mana was equivalent to that of a Commoner rank monster heart, and Lyric could feel it saturating his body, reinvigorating his drained muscles and sharpening his senses. The technique worked its magic, negating the side effects of the rotten heart, fortifying both his mana and his body in a single, if unpleasant, act.
Lyric exhaled slowly, the sensation of power settling into his bloodstream. Despite the taste, it was worth it. The Rift had already shown its horrors, and he knew this wouldn't be the last of them. But for now, at least, he had food—and a temporary victory.