The news of the blood army reached Galenar right after Balendon fled. So he did not know. He ran towards the north where people could not dare to venture without a proper party and decent gear. Out in the cold, Balendon had only his knife and survival skills, but what was the point of surviving? He stopped running after five hours. He had already run at least four times the size of the whole Galenar territory. A normal Elisyson would make that journey in five or six days. He felt his exhaustion along with the question. What was the point of living now? The man who had literally lost everything- his love, his perseverance towards the future, and his will to live- collapsed on the ground due to fatigue.
A while later, he woke up to the noise of two unknown monsters battling over a water source. They looked, of course, fiercer and stronger than the ones in Galenar territory as expected from monsters from the undiscovered territory up in the north. The discovery expedition system of the civilization was simple: secure and establish territory, move north, and secure another same-sized territory. To accomplish this task, the western and eastern continents built sizeable defenses and infrastructure to keep a hold on these already claimed territories. Each advancement in the north meant a breakthrough in technology along with the discovery of ancient ruins. Galenar was the latest territory explored since monsters from the north were undefeatable with the current technology.
"First things first, I can answer the question after I survive." Water he needed first, then food. Balendon thought and played dead until the outcome of the fight was determined. Luckily, the intense fight between two ferocious beasts ended in a pyrrhic victory for the winged lion-like beast over the centipede-like armored bug. He stood up with his bloodlust and gazed at the victor, who could barely breathe, lying on the ground defenseless and watching him. Balendon paused his advance towards him after realizing that he was a father defending his cub. He could heal the beast and show affection to his cub to gain his favor to maybe get eaten afterward. He chose to stab the beast in the neck. Since he didn't know anything about the beast, he avoided its blood just in case. After the lifeless head of the beast thumped on the grass, he proceeded towards the cub. He drank water, found a cave, and dragged both beasts to dissect and investigate.
After a long examination, he concluded that the beast could not pierce the centipede's armor, which he could use as his own, and the skin of the beast could serve as a leather layer. The bones of the beast could be a shield while the claws of the centipede could be made into a spear. Along with several other uses for other body parts, he preserved the carcasses in a good way, then spent months gathering the rest of the materials such as wood and stone to build crafting stations. He made the cave his home, hoping he would live away from civilization since it was too far for them to venture. He spent his years in seclusion until his 25th birthday, training his skills and crafting himself better gear from the prey he could now hunt.
One day he discovered the trail of an Elisyson caravan passing by his marked territory. According to the tracks, it was around a hundred people. Conquering the size of five territories in seven years was unbelievable unless they had found a remarkable discovery or something. Leaders of the caravan were a middle-aged man specialized in healing skills and his warrior wife, a few years younger than him, who was pregnant to their child for two months already. Feeling threatened by the arrival of other civilizations, Balendon made plans to move further north. First, he needed information, and this caravan was his best chance. He packed up his most important stuff and caught up with them.
A seemingly hostile encounter turned into a friendly campfire conversation when Balendon explained his story without too much detail. Leaders of the caravan were a middle-aged man specialized in healing skills and his warrior wife, a few years younger than him, who was pregnant to a child for two months already. Both had distinctive Elisyson features, which were unremarkable. They were looking to set up a camp and hopefully develop it into a colony with the last bit of their fortune they made from their adventures. The story of this couple reminded Balendon of his parents' story, according to the one landlord who told him, though he never got the chance to learn their names or his lineage.
As they spoke over the fire, Balendon caught up with news from the civilization. The most remarkable and recent discovery in the world was the new two ways of obtaining power: the angelic way of cultivating or the evil way of hunting. Until then, people were measuring levels of their power starting from rank F to S. Balendon would be the first-ever S rank if he were to live with civilization again, yet it was pointless at that moment since even the lowest rank Lumena was three times stronger than him already. The new Lumena ranking system would go from 1 to 5, and after 5 it would be called Lumena awakening. Even the Lumenans had only limited awakeners, so they had not much insight about that level or above.
Angelic cultivation mainly consisted of the continuous absorption of the essence of life from the environment, which was different than just absorbing mana in the air. One had to undergo patient and meticulous meditation every time they were about to increase in rank. It was a slow but steady way of getting stronger with a solid base. To learn it, one must go to the newly discovered western parts of the northern continent where the ancient remnants of the Lumena civilization kept a primordial monster which brought demise to their civilization 20,000 years ago. Reaching the lands was not the challenge but pledging loyalty to the Lumenan order was. One must gain their trust and vow to defend the seal should danger arise. This new type of cultivation boosted the evolution process of races threefold, which meant people were three times stronger now compared to seven years ago.
The armor and weapon schematics provided by Lumena were flawless and cheap to obtain. The second way was invented by people of Eastern Dukedom- specifically the beastmen- after they inspected necromancer Zakon's magic to consume and convert the essence of living beings. It was similar to angelic cultivation since both were about absorbing life essence, but unlike angelic cultivation, hunters absorbed the essence of other beings after slaying them.
The absorption rate was incredibly fast for hunters compared to cultivators, and years of power could be obtained in an instant. However, there was a significant flaw. Even though the soul left the body after death, it would still leave its marks on the life essence. A hunter had to spend a great deal of effort and willpower to digest the newly absorbed essence and evolve their body to hold that amount of essence and more. Otherwise, if they tried to absorb more than their body could handle, they would either explode or go insane. That made weak-willed people excellent targets for hunters.
It was impossible to distinguish between an angelic cultivator or a hunter based on their appearance or strength, although hunters were usually more powerful. The only exception was daemons, who would grow wings if they were cultivators and horns if they were hunters. One could change their power method by retraining and reopening their absorption channels if they were hunters or closing their absorption channels and strengthening their digestion methods if they were cultivators. Again, there was an exception with daemons, as they would have to cut either their wings or horns to restart their power-gaining method without losing their actual power.
Magic in the south was no longer enough for anyone using the new power methods, and more pioneers had appeared recently in the north, which greatly contributed to expeditions and reduced the war between continents to minor clashes. As Balendon listened, he felt more threatened. He finally thought he had achieved the peak of his Elisyson form, yet these people were saying they were at least three times stronger than him and could cut him into two like a strand of hair with their swords.
He would not be able to go to the western parts since he was a fugitive and hated people, despite how well he hid that at the moment. When everyone went to sleep one by one, he sat alone in front of the campfire, pondering what he should do and how he should survive. "What's the purpose of living? Why did he try this hard to survive, or why was he still trying?" He thought again, yet once more, he didn't have time to think of the answer after he heard traps set in the caravan's perimeter being triggered.
It was a pack of winged lions drawn to the fire, as expected. Archers took position and shot arrows at their legs. Their arrows flew like lightning bolts. These people were skilled! With the pain in their legs, the beasts instinctively tried to fly, but when they opened their wings, the mages burned them with flame affinity skills. The immobilized beasts still gave a ferocious defense. After a coordinated, one-sided massacre, only a few caravan members were injured, and even then, the injuries were minor. As they gathered around the leader for healing, the other warriors commended Balendon on how well he fought despite being this weak.
Not even having time to reply to this compliment(?), a cry was heard. At the direction of the cry lay the healer, cold and dead on the ground, with an arrow pierced through his chest. His wife, out of grief, charged towards the archer who had ambushed them, only to be shattered into dust by a lightning spell. This wasn't a fight against monsters this time- it was an ambush by other intelligent beings!
Now with the leaders gone, the caravan was in disorder. The injured drank their precious potions to get back into the fight, while veterans tried to maintain formation. Civilians cowered in panic as it became clear this must have been hunters who had come specifically for their essences- because they were weak!
Balendon was also terrified. Seeing how the weapons and armor that had worked so well against the monsters were obliterated against these new attackers, he realized involving himself with others was a mistake. Perhaps the third mistake of his life, and one that would change his life's course yet again.
He was no different than a civilian this time- maybe even tastier to the hunters since he was at the peak of strength he could achieve without the life force. His body held pure and raw mana, not converted into anything. He stood frozen from shock after shock until he saw a rock falling from the sky- lit with blazing flames mid-air and hurtling toward him and the civilians.
From where and how that massive chunk of rock appeared in the sky or became ablaze was unknown. All Balendon could comprehend at that moment was that if he got hit with something of that caliber, he would become nothing but a paste. "WHAT THE HELL KIND OF MAGIC IS THAT?!" he cried out in frustration before it struck around 40 people near him, throwing him a few meters away.
Shellshocked, Balendon barely stood up after some time to see only two survivors from the fierce battle. The bad news was that those two remaining survivors were the hunters. Balendon was injured and was not even able to run. The two hunters were still busy rummaging through loot and harvesting the life essences of their victims and had not noticed Balendon yet.
He knew he had one attempt to act. Summoning all his courage, he threw his knife at one hunter, aiming for his neck, but the blade stopped at a thin veil on the hunter's hat. "How strong could a stupid hat be?!" he thought, frustrated. His desperate attack now made him noticeable. As the hunters turned their attention to him, still contemplating whether to attack or not, Balendon rushed toward the healer's pouch and grabbed a potion.
The hunters, realizing he was trash, laughed at his desperate attempt to heal himself. This relieved Balendon because his real trump card wasn't healing- it was the potion of haste. Their mocking laughter gave him just enough time to start healing his injuries and prepare for a sprint.
The hunters' mistake lay in underestimating him. From their equipment, it was clear they were bulwarks, specialized in holding the ground, not running. No matter how strong they were, nobody could outrun Balendon, who had survived until now by running like a rat when there was no other option left. He chugged the potion of haste and began running.
The hunters started chasing him. At first, they kept the same distance despite running for a while, but as Balendon healed more and grew faster, the gap widened. The hunters, realizing the monster and meteor attack survivor might be worth something, became more determined. They hadn't yet realized that Balendon's pure essence could significantly enhance their power, but they had an instinctive sense that consuming him would be highly beneficial.
Had they known this, they might have abandoned their armor to chase him faster. But instead, Balendon's unrelenting logic prevailed- run further north, into more dangerous and unknown territories, just like seven years ago. He hoped the perilous environment would eventually shake them off.
The chase lasted five days, with both parties losing their way back yet persisting. Balendon was enraged by their determination to claim his life, while the hunters grew increasingly frustrated. Whenever he managed to shake off his pursuers, he slept to regain bits of his energy, only to resume running when they inevitably found him again.
Finally, Balendon stumbled upon an arctic storm. This was no ordinary storm- it was stationary, and the step required to enter it was distinctly visible. He hesitated, unsure whether to proceed. As his atrocious pursuers closed in, their victorious laughter spurred him into action. Without a second thought, he rushed full speed into the storm.
The hunters stopped in frustration as they realized the storm wasn't natural- it was a magical barrier. Cursing him and vowing to desecrate his ancestors' graves, they finally gave up the chase.
Inside the storm, Balendon slowed down. His will to survive was all but gone, his body riddled with frostbite. He staggered forward, each step bringing excruciating pain. To combat the freezing cold, he conjured flames to burn his skin, but the exhaustion quickly drained his mana. Soon, the icy breeze pierced his chest, freezing his internal organs.
He thought bitterly about the saying, "Freezing to death doesn't feel painful," as every atom in his face froze, leaving him unable to laugh or cry. For the first time, he felt truly destined to die.
As his life flashed before his eyes, he wept internally, unable to shed tears as they would freeze instantly. "How could life mock me so much?! Where is the dignity in this?" he thought, consumed by grief.
Balendon refused to accept this fate. He refused to die like a dog after living like one. He had done nothing wrong, yet he had been wronged in unimaginable ways.
Suddenly, his body felt light. He could no longer move but began to feel warmth. The snowy, murderous scenery shifted to a dark hole surrounded by ancient, half-destroyed stairways. A dim light was fading with each passing second, and the air grew warmer.
Then, everything stopped with an impact. Balendon didn't even have the chance to feel it. His body was pulverized as it hit the ground.