Before he could fully comprehend the situation, Omen slammed into him with a ferocity that surprised everyone. With his bloody hand, he used the makeshift bone weapon to stab into the giant's neck.
'The boy's strength is formidable, but his durability was low; now that's disappointing.' Omen sighed inwardly and hoped that he wasn't going to steal this weak durability and instead take what he needed.
Omen stabbed again and again, each thrust fuelled by exhilaration. The giant retaliated, delivering a violent punch to Omen's face that sent his skull rotating backwards. But the healing was instantaneous; his head snapped back into place within a millisecond, and Omen continued his bloody rampage, a wide, excited smile plastered across his face.
His entire body was drenched in blood, and his hand was reduced to a gruesome mess down to the shoulders, but the damage was done. With a primal roar, he pushed his left hand inside the giant's torn neck, feeling the warmth of blood and the rush of power coursing through him. He had already absorbed the boy's abilities, and with glowing sapphire eyes, he violently tore off the giant's head, the crowd erupting into a cacophony of gasps and screams.
[Emotion:--]
Omen stood amongst the silence as the giant's corpse collapsed on the ground, an embodiment of horror and tension seen by terrified spectators. The arena fell motionless for a long time, the weight of what had just happened to descend on everyone like a dense fog.
[Emotion: Exhilaration]
[Emotions stolen until tranquillity: 7/100]
Captain Don had seen many things in his years as a soldier. He had witnessed destruction that left cities in ruins, violence that shattered lives, and even madness that twisted the minds of men. But nothing could have prepared him for the sight of a seventeen-year-old battle slave effortlessly tearing into his skin and using his bone as a weapon. It was a horrifying display of resilience and brutality that left him both disturbed and awestruck.
'This kid!' he thought, his mind racing. 'General Arthur had recruited a monster!' and the implications of that realisation sent chills down his spine. The scene had terrified both the sergeants and the recruits alike. The giant they had all feared was someone troublesome, a force that only the captains could tame. Seeing him dead had pleased many, but witnessing a special grade like Omen take his place was even more terrifying.
As the crowd processed the transformation, those who had not known Omen's name before now ingrained it in their minds. "Omen," they whispered, the name echoing through the arena.
With quiet strides, Omen walked out of the square and back to his platoon dorm. The atmosphere was thick with silence, but to those who had witnessed the spectacle, it felt like the booming steps of a god on earth.
...
In the weeks that followed, the only person who dared to approach Omen was Kol. Unlike the others, Kol was unafraid of death, mainly due to his luck attribute.
Omen rejoined the hunting expeditions, and during one of these outings, he encountered a formidable beast. He absorbed its speed, enhancing his abilities, and returned to Captain Don with the carcass. His accumulated points had now surpassed five hundred.
With his points, Omen made a request to the lieutenants and purchased expensive books. The knowledge contained within those pages was invaluable to him, and he immersed himself in the texts, learning everything he could about this odd realm.
Days turned into weeks, and no one still dared to approach him, not even the lustful girls who wanted to fight to the death just for a chance to sleep with him; now none of them could even look in his direction. Omen used the opportunity to train vigorously, his points steadily climbing, and soon he was passing a million. For the two months he had been here, he bought and returned books, devouring every piece of information about Aeltheron that was of importance.
At that moment, Omen possessed more knowledge than someone three times his age. He needed to prepare both for the unknown impending war and also to find a way back home. This was not his realm, and the longer he stayed here, the more he realised it. Then a scratch at his scalp made him lose concentration—
"Keep your head still, kid!" Dahlia exclaimed, her voice a mix of frustration and amusement as she playfully suffocated Omen with her ample chest while attempting to cut his long black hair. It had grown so much that it now reached his shoulders, becoming a hindrance in duels. Dahlia had taken it upon herself to help him out; weapons weren't allowed without supervision, so she used her retractable claws with a determined look in her eyes.
Omen sat on the floor in the courtyard, trying to maintain his composure despite the awkward position even as the sun glared at his eyes, but thankfully the wild warrior shielded him with her two massive instruments. Dahlia perched on a high stool that Kol had procured with his contribution points, a proud smile on her face as she expertly tore away at the unruly locks. The atmosphere was light and filled with amity, as members of their platoon enjoyed their day off, engaging in games and laughter while giving the four of them a respectful space. After all, this small squad was known as the strongest in the entire third brigade.
Virgo sat nearby, engrossed in a book that Omen had lent her. She had taken a liking to reading because of his multiple collections, and the quiet moments spent with her nose buried in a story brought her a sense of peace. On her lap, Kol slept soundly, his face relaxed and content, facing the sky on her lap. The lucky boy had developed genuine feelings for the cursed girl, and Virgo, realising the depth of his emotions, had decided to commit to him fully. Their nights together had become a whirlwind of passion, and Omen couldn't help but wonder how Kol even managed to keep up with her energy. It was a miracle he wasn't completely drained by now.
"I tell you, kid, if you move your head one more time, I might cut your neck. Whether you heal from it or not is not my concern," Dahlia warned, her tone half-serious, half-teasing. She had grown accustomed to Omen's resilience, believing him to be immortal after their countless sparring sessions. Every day, she challenged him, using him as a punching bag to test her strength.
Omen's durability was remarkable, and the only reason Dahlia had been able to land any hits on him at all was due to her passive strength being slightly greater than his, despite him already possessing three layers of super strength. Now, however, her punches hardly left a mark on his skin. All her physical attacks were rendered ineffective, and she found herself growing increasingly frustrated.
"Dahlia, you know I can't help it if I have to adjust," Omen replied, a smirk playing on his lips as he tried to keep his head steady. "Besides, I think I'm getting used to this whole hair-cutting thing. Just don't take off too much, alright?"
He was finally beginning to open up and talk to his 'friends'…it felt odd from his lips— or his thoughts. Regardless what made him deem them as friends, it was that he could tolerate their presence and grow alongside them, but revealing his secrets was another thing entirely; as long as they never betrayed him, he was even willing to tell them about his plans. Though sometimes he still secretly wished he had used the opportunity during the hunting expedition to steal Luck's powers.
Dahlia rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. "You're lucky I'm doing this for you, you know. Most people would kill for a haircut from me." She continued cutting away, her focus shifting back to the task at hand.
"And one, two... three," Dahlia murmured, her voice filled with concentration as the last of Omen's long hair fell to the ground. The strands tumbled away, and he felt a lightness as his hair now stopped at his shoulders, swaying gently with his movements.
Dahlia stood up, a gleam of triumph in her eyes. "Now you have no more excuses. Let's fight!"
Omen smirked, his confidence unwavering. "What's the point? You can't even scratch me," he mocked with a teasing gaze.
The giantess's face flushed with anger, her fists clenching at her sides. "Why you!!!—"