He reined in his killing intent, forcing himself to calm down. There was a time and place for everything, and right now, Kol was more valuable alive than dead. The boy had given him useful information, unwittingly showing his cards. Omen could afford to wait, to bide his time until the moment was right.
Kol, oblivious to the storm of thoughts brewing in Omen's mind, leaned back in his chair, satisfied with his storytelling. "Well, anyway, guess we'll see what tomorrow brings," he said casually. "I've got a feeling things will get a lot more interesting with you around here."
Omen's eyes flickered with a dark glint as he looked at Kol, his face unreadable. "Yeah," he muttered. "Interesting."
…..
"Good morning, Omen," Kol chirped, keeping pace with ease. His smile was wide, the kind of smile that would irritate anyone enduring the grind of early morning exercise. "Hope you slept well. That right there is Staff Sergeant Saljore—he took us three days ago. He doesn't care much about us losing formation, but he hates laziness. You look incredibly agile. Do you exercise a lot?"
Omen's jaw clenched as the boy continued to invade his space, chatting as if they were long-time friends. The persistent grin on Kol's face was growing more and more infuriating. Omen's thoughts flickered back to his earlier musings about killing Kol. It would've been so easy, so quick, to end this annoyance right then and there.
But he didn't. Not now.
"Stop talking," Omen said, his voice calm but edged with warning. His eyes remained fixed ahead, his expression cold and indifferent.
Kol chuckled, seemingly undeterred. "You know, you're not very friendly. But that's alright," he said, grinning wider. His steps didn't falter as he kept pace, as if he was amused by Omen's stoic demeanour. "You're an interesting guy, Omen, even your name is interesting. You should lighten up a bit. It's not like we're in the middle of a war… hmm, at least not yet."
The formation was beginning to break as recruits started falling behind. Omen kept his pace steady, his endurance carrying him forward without a hitch. The cold air filled his lungs, but it did nothing to slow him down. Kol's voice continued to jab at the edges of his consciousness, but he ignored it as best as he could.
Ahead, Staff Sergeant Saljore jogged at the front, his gruff commands ringing out to keep the recruits in line. He was seasoned, his every movement sharp and precise, but Omen noticed the subtle glances
Omen didn't care about impressing him, but he wasn't going to fall behind either. For now, though, he just kept running.
As they neared the lake, the light of dawn cast long shadows across the eerie green water. The white lion ducks swam lazily near the shore, completely unaffected by the tension that now simmered in Omen's chest. The jade colour of the water was unnatural, almost sickly, and yet it had a certain allure. The medicinal plants that grew beneath the surface added to the lake's mystery, giving it an otherworldly appearance.
Across the lake, the second platoon had begun to disperse as their exercises finished. Meanwhile, theirs were just beginning. The relentless exercise continued under the unforgiving morning sun, sweat dripping down Omen's face as the group pushed through squats, pushups, and other gruelling routines. The sun's rays grew hotter, beating down on them as it neared its peak. Kol had stopped his chatter, breathing heavily beside him as they fought to keep pace with the relentless commands.
By the time they took their last jog around the Green Lake, only the resilient ones of them all were still standing. Soon after, Omen's gaze flickered over the other battle slaves assembled in the open field. The cool afternoon air clung to his skin as he stood beside Virgo and Kol. His exhaustion wasn't physical, his body, enhanced by passive abilities, didn't require food or sleep the way others did. It was the constant drain of his exogene reserves that weighed on him. Six weeks without feeding on anything substantial was pushing his limits, and he knew it, he needed to kill something and soon. He didn't even want to consider what could happen if he wasn't able to kill something soon enough.
Thankfully a solution came up when Captain Don sent the volunteered hunters out for the small weekly hunting expedition. Though the latest hunt of the veteran battleslaves was successful, some of them were still gravely wounded and needed to recuperate. So now there were empty spots for the newbie battleslaves to acquire experience out in the field.
So unsurprisingly, omen joined the hunting expedition. Kol, the annoying flee he was followed suit. The only surprising one was Virgo. Omen hadn't spoken much with her these past few days, there was nothing to talk about afterall, so he was surprised at what her true intention was when she decided to enlist as well.
The hunting expedition was never a lovely affair, slaves could easily die while acquiring food for the entire platoon. Humans wouldn't want to risk their lives just so that others could eat, so there wasn't any competition of any sort and were soon permanently one of the hunting forces.
When the day came for the expedition Omen was finally ready to feed his soul, he didn't care what potential he would still have, all he needed was the base soul exogene that would grant him sustenance. The forest ahead loomed dark and silent, with the thin rays of the rising sun barely breaking through the dense canopy. It was a dangerous place, teeming with creatures both natural and supernatural.
"Three from each platoon, huh?" Kol said, glancing around at their group of fifteen recruits and five sergeants. "I wonder who'll bring back the biggest catch." Omen ignored him, his focus on Dahlia, who now stood with her new platoon after being transferred due to being a beastwoman. The wild warrior looked at him with a crazy smile and turned her gaze back into the forest, excited about the hunt, this was her forte afterall and who wouldn't want to show off when you were better at others at something, especially when the rewards were very profitable?
Hours passed as they trudged deeper into the forest, the air thick with humidity. Finally, they reached a clearing, and the lead staff sergeant raised a hand, signalling for them to stop. "Listen," he instructed, his voice low. "Do you hear that?"
The recruits fell silent, straining to catch the sound. It was faint at first—a low, resonating thrum that sent vibrations through the ground. It grew louder, a sound like the earth itself was breathing. Only the werebeast and those with enhanced passive skills were capable of detecting the sound, of course, Omen was included.
"The bullocks are nearby," the sergeant whispered, eyes scanning the edge of the clearing. "Stay alert. We'll approach carefully."
They moved forward, stepping lightly to avoid drawing attention. Omen admired the commanding sergeant's experience and acute instincts. In the far distance, he saw huge creatures advancing through the greenery, both breathtaking and horrifying.
"There they are!" Kol whispered excitedly, but the lead sergeant abruptly silenced him.
Omen focused his attention on the bullocks. Their size was huge, almost covering the vegetation beyond them. They possessed large, muscular bodies cloaked in dense black fur, and their heads were adorned with pointed horns that gleamed menacingly in the scattered light.
"Remember, we're here for two, no more," the first platoon staff sergeant instructed. "We need to find a way to separate them from the herd. Stick together."
"and try to keep your voice down as well," the muscular feline sergeant of the second platoon warned, her sharp gaze scanning the area as if daring anyone to question her authority.
As they entered a small clearing, the bullocks came into view. They stood grazing, oblivious to the presence of the hunting party. "On my signal," the tree man sergeant of the third platoon whispered, raising a hand to indicate they should halt.
There was a short moment of silence before he gave the sudden signal.
"Now!" he shouted, signalling the teams to move. But to everyone's shock, it was Omen that blasted forward first. He wasn't headed for the herd of bullocks; instead, he was circling it and moving further into the forest.
'What is he doing!', the first sergeant gasped 'Is the bastard trying to escape?!'. The man was furious at the astonishing prank this slave was performing right in front of his eyes. No slave had ever attempted to escape via the forest of all places…right in front of five sergeants no less!
"Both of you rush to the captain back at base and inform him of the situation!" The sergeant yelled at Virgo and Kol. The girl nodded grimly and dashed to alert the captain, while Kol hesitated before finally going after her.
While the others were caught up in the pandemonium, Omen moved through the thick forest. 'I need something powerful, something that will be able to sustain me for months,' Omen reasoned. He knew his imprint would be triggered eventually, but first, he had to kill a prey. Fortunately, the Bullock Lord wasn't far from the herd. Unlike the typical big herbivore, the bullock lord was three meters tall with enormous curving horns. It looked like a conventional bull, except instead of one pair of eyes, there were three.
Each pair served a distinct purpose: the first pair was only for seeing, the second pair was for seeing through any solid matter, and the third pair was for immobilizing an opponent. Omen emerged and licked his lips avidly, 'Just what I need'. Omen was glad he had diligently read as many books during the moments when he was incapable of sleep, without them he wouldn't have known their weakness.
The beast was quietly examining him through its first set of eyes. Because of its raw strength, the soldiers seldom troubled it, so it remained arrogant and openly dismissed the young black-haired recruit, but this was just what Omen desired. He needed to eliminate this creature right now before the soldiers tracked him down.
Omen's smirk deepened as the bullock roared, its deafening bellow echoing through the forest. Without wasting further time, he shot himself forward without fear. He didn't have any unsealed active ability, but all his passive skills were fully active, that was why they were passive, so even if the seal dampened their strength, they were still usable, including his innate physical strength and agility which was equal or even more to the giant herbivore.
The bullock was suddenly alerted by the sudden blast of speed but by the time it came to its senses, Omen had already reached it and shot two of his fingers forward which he used to impale the beast's eyes. His fingers brutally poked into the last pair of eyes—the ones capable of immobilization.
The massive creature staggered, its black bulk shuddering with every furious breath. Dark blood dripped from its wounded eyes, pooling beneath it as its blind rage intensified. Its remaining pair of closed eyes twitched, struggling against the pain to pry themselves open, he had to finish it before the others came.
'How many times now have I killed creatures through this process, hope I'm not becoming sadistic with this trend', he pondered seriously, he honestly didn't need such a personality or it would hinder his thought process when facing tougher opponents, which he was sure with his luck would be immense threats.
The ground trembled under the weight of the charging beast, its remaining opened eyes gleaming with raw fury. Each monstrous step sent shockwaves through the earth, dust clouds billowing in its wake. Omen, unfazed by the bullock's sudden resurgence, ran headlong towards it, his cold gaze locked on the creature's neck. The bullock's ability to see through physical objects was useless here—Omen wasn't trying to hide.
As the two collided in a flash of speed, Omen threw himself upward, twisting in mid-air like a coiled predator. He soared over the bullock's enormous bulk, landing with an audible crack behind it, his legs immediately locking around the creature's thick, sinewy neck. His knees dug into the dense muscle, anchoring him in place.
The bullock, sensing its vulnerability, roared in frantic rage. Its massive frame jerked violently as it bucked, desperately trying to throw Omen off. The ground beneath them trembled with each frantic movement, the beast's hooves stomping furiously as it thrashed, twisting and turning in a desperate bid to dislodge its unwanted rider.
But Omen was relentless. His body, infused with passive strength, clung to the beast with the tenacity of iron. He leaned forward, arms tightening around the bullock's head as it continued to struggle beneath him. Every time the bullock whipped its body, Omen countered its movements with practised precision, adjusting his weight, refusing to let go. His focus never wavered.
"You fought well," Omen thought, his lips curling into a faint, twisted smile as the creature's resistance began to wane. "But this is where it ends."