James ran his hand along the jagged bark of the tree, his breathing shallow and rapid. His legs screamed in protest, and every step felt like dragging a lead weight. He slumped against the trunk, scanning the dense forest for any sign of movement. The elf's voice still echoed in his mind, a reminder of how close he had come to being captured again.
He'd escaped—barely. That damned elf had been faster, stronger, and smarter than him. If it weren't for the distraction he'd created, he'd be back in chains or worse. The thought sent a shiver down his spine.
"I need to keep moving," he muttered, pushing himself off the tree. His voice sounded foreign to him, hoarse and raw from exhaustion. The forest around him was eerily silent, the usual chirping of birds and rustling of leaves replaced with an oppressive stillness. Every shadow seemed to shift, every branch a potential threat.
His scythe dangled loosely in his grip, the blade's edge dulled from the countless battles he'd fought in the past days. The comforting weight of the weapon was the only thing keeping him grounded, a reminder that he wasn't entirely helpless. Not yet.
James forced his legs to move, each step a battle against the fatigue that threatened to overwhelm him. The forest floor was uneven, roots and rocks conspiring to trip him at every turn. His boots scraped against the dirt, leaving faint tracks that he knew could betray him. He tried to think of a solution, but his mind was foggy, the adrenaline crash leaving him unfocused.
The morning sun filtered through the trees, casting long shadows across the ground. The light was weak, barely enough to pierce the dense canopy above. James glanced upward, squinting at the patches of sky visible through the leaves. He couldn't afford to be caught in the open when the elves resumed their search. They'd be relentless; he'd seen it in that elf's eyes. They wouldn't stop until they had him.
After trudging for what felt like hours, James stumbled upon a small stream. The sight of the clear, running water was almost enough to bring him to his knees. He dropped the scythe and knelt by the bank, splashing water on his face and drinking greedily. The cool liquid soothed his parched throat, washing away the metallic taste of fear that lingered there.
As he drank, his reflection shimmered on the surface of the stream. His face was pale, streaked with dirt and dried blood. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and his black hair clung to his forehead in damp strands. He looked like a ghost of himself, a far cry from the boy who'd worked part-time in a hardware store back in Elliot Lake.
"Riftborn," he muttered, the word tasting bitter on his tongue. It was a title that had brought him nothing but pain and danger. Yet, it was also a part of him now. He couldn't escape it, no matter how much he wanted to.
A faint rustling in the bushes behind him snapped him out of his thoughts. James's hand shot to the scythe, his fingers closing around the familiar grip. He turned slowly, his eyes scanning the undergrowth. The sound stopped, replaced by an eerie silence.
"Not again," he muttered, rising to his feet. His muscles tensed, every fiber of his being screaming at him to run. But he stood his ground, the scythe poised to strike. The forest seemed to hold its breath, the tension thick enough to choke on.
A low growl broke the silence, sending a chill down James's spine. The bushes parted, and a creature stepped into view. It was unlike anything he'd seen before—a twisted amalgamation of fur, scales, and bone. Its eyes glowed with an unnatural light, and its jaws dripped with saliva.
"I feel bullied by these guys, I swear, I will kill them all." James sighed
[Analyzing…]
Name: Chimera Spawn
Level: 20
Health: 320/320
Dexterity: 47
Special Ability: [Vicious Claw: Enhanced slashing attack. Cost: 10 Mana per use. (Level 6) (Unique) (Active) (No Affinity)]
The numbers flashed in James's vision, a stark reminder of the danger he was in. He tightened his grip on the scythe, his mind racing. The Chimera Spawn's level was higher than his, and he was already weakened from his previous encounters. This fight would be different—he couldn't afford to make a mistake.
The creature lunged without warning, its claws slashing through the air. James barely managed to sidestep, the sharp tips grazing his cloak. He swung the scythe in a wide arc, the blade carving through the air with a faint hum. The Chimera Spawn twisted mid-air, avoiding the strike with an agility that belied its size.
"Damn it," James hissed, his heart pounding. The creature was fast—too fast. He needed to slow it down, to create an opening. Activating [Shadow Tentacles] crossed his mind, but his mana reserves were dangerously low. He'd have to rely on strategy instead of brute force.
The Chimera Spawn circled him, its glowing eyes locked onto his every move. James mirrored its movements, keeping the scythe between them. His mind worked frantically, analyzing the creature's patterns. It favored its right side, its left leg dragging slightly with each step. An injury, perhaps? It was a slim advantage, but it was all he had.
The creature lunged again, its claws aimed at his chest. James dropped to the ground, rolling to the side as the Chimera Spawn crashed into the spot where he'd stood moments before. He sprang to his feet, swinging the scythe downward with all his strength. The blade connected with the creature's flank, a spray of black ichor marking the strike.
The Chimera Spawn roared in pain, its glowing eyes flaring brighter. It swiped at James, the claws tearing through the air inches from his face. He stumbled backward, his boots slipping on the damp ground. The creature pressed its advantage, its movements growing more erratic as it lashed out in fury.
James's breath came in ragged gasps, his body screaming for rest. But he couldn't stop. Not now. He feinted to the left, then pivoted to the right, bringing the scythe up in a sweeping arc. The blade caught the Chimera Spawn under its jaw, the force of the strike sending it reeling.
The creature staggered, black ichor dripping from its wounds. James seized the opportunity, channeling what little mana he had left into the scythe. The blade crackled with dark energy, the faint tendrils of shadow magic dancing along its edge.
"[Necrotc Beam]," he whispered, the words barely audible over the pounding of his heart. He raised his hand and pointed his index finger, and a green ball of necrotic mana formed, pulsing ominously, and a thin beam shot out, piercing straight through its skull, and leaving necrosis-ridden flesh in its wake.
[-2 Mana][-2 Mana][-2 Mana]
[Mana: 0/200
[You have defeated a [Chimera Spawn]
The Chimera Spawn collapsed, its body dissolving into a pool of dark ichor. James stood over the remains, his chest heaving. His vision blurred, the edges darkening as exhaustion threatened to overtake him. But he couldn't rest. Not yet.
A faint chime echoed in his ears, followed by a familiar notification.
[Level Up!]
{80 xp gained by slaying a [Chimera Spawn]}
[You have leveled up]
[Level 3 → Level 4]
[Your understanding of Death increases: 0.3% → 0.4%]
[You have gained 10 SP]
[You have gained 10 SMP]
[You have 20 unused [SP]]
[Allocate SP]
Strength: 3
Vitality: 12
Dexterity: 3
Intelligence: 15
Wisdom: 8
Perception: 1
Stamina: 3
"Seven into [Strength], seven into [Dexterity], two into [Wisdom], and four into [Vitality], and none into [Perception] because it is the worst stat, I mean, the only way it could be useful is if you had some random bloodline ability to be able to see everything around you in a mental map that continuously upgrades, getting more and more broken, and if you have multiple abilities that scale with [perception], and then you would have to be a hunter or something, and since ancient things hide, you would be some sort of [Primal Tree Hugger]?"
[Allocate SP]
Strength: 3 + 7
Vitality: 12 + 4
Dexterity: 3 + 7
Intelligence: 15
Wisdom: 8 + 2
Perception: 1
Stamina: 3
[0 [SP] remaining]
He blinked, the words barely registering. The adrenaline that had carried him through the fight was fading, leaving only the crushing weight of fatigue. He stumbled to the stream, collapsing by the water's edge. His reflection stared back at him, a ghostly visage framed by the first rays of dawn.
James dipped his hands into the water, splashing his face and washing away the grime. He'd survived another encounter, but the cost was high. His body was battered, his mana reserves drained, and his mind teetered on the edge of collapse. Yet, as he sat there, staring at the rippling surface of the stream, a flicker of determination ignited within him.
"I'll get stronger," he said, his voice firm despite the tremor in his hands. "I have to."
The forest around him remained silent, the shadows lengthening as the sun climbed higher. James pushed himself to his feet, gripping the scythe tightly. The path ahead was uncertain, the challenges unrelenting. But he was alive. And for now, that was enough.