A young man stood at the centre of an altar, where in front of him lay nine dead bodies, half-eaten by the Dent Creature, a creature of the allure rank. A Dent Creature of this rank, without any special abilities to assist beyond its teeth, had come and murdered everyone here in the cathedral, devouring them and taking some away. Winter hadn't been inside the cathedral at that time; he had simply come to look for anything useful among the ruins. While passing by, he had noticed the creature leaving, but fortunately, it hadn't taken anything he needed.
Winter jumped off the altar and began scanning the area with his eyes: ruined benches, blood everywhere, broken stained glass, a fallen and broken angel statue, and numerous cracks in the ground, perhaps due to the creature's heavy pouncing on every piece of meat it encountered.
"Aren't there anything here worth my attention?" Winter muttered as he leapt over a bloody leg. He almost vomited at the sight, but he had seen things far more devastating.
Looking to his left, he found a dagger, its edges resembling the fangs of a beast, curved at the end, while the handle was white silk adorned with a red mark.
"Hmm. A hunter's dagger?"
After witnessing a battle between a hunter and a Dent Creature about two months ago, he had noticed this same type of dagger, albeit with a black blade and the same white handle featuring a red mark. This clearly signified a clan of hunters; however, he didn't know to which one this belonged. In contrast, this dagger would fetch a high price if he could get in contact with another hunter, as it seemed to be a high-tier weapon.
Winter quickly picked it up, cleaning the dirt off the silk silver blade with the rag of clothing he wore: tattered black trousers and a top with one arm cut off, bearing a bite mark on his stomach. He had found this piece of clothing from a dead hunter, as his previous rags had been completely worn out.
Using one hand to brush his black hair back, he stared at his muddy face in the blade's surface; his deep brown eyes shone with mischief. He quickly picked up a piece of white fabric from the ground and wrapped the blade in it. Then he grinned from ear to ear and decided to leave with only that, being careful not to encounter the Dent Creature, which might return for the remnants of flesh.
He rushed out of the cathedral's fallen doors and emerged onto a ruined street. Broken glass and wood were scattered everywhere, with half-destroyed houses and black smoke rising from them. It seemed as though the street—and the entire area—had been dominated by the creatures. Who would even come here for church services? This was the stupidest thing he had ever encountered.
Suddenly, a drop of saliva fell from above, landing in front of Winter just as he was about to continue his run. He slowly looked back and saw a large Dent Creature standing behind him, about ten feet taller than his 6'0" frame.
It had two long fangs protruding from its drooling mouth, which struggled to contain them, stained with blood. It resembled a large cat, with spikes for fur, rising and falling as it breathed. Its red eyes locked onto Winter, and instantly, its red claws shot out from its massive paws. This was surely a Blue Hedge, though the name didn't fit, as the fur or spikes were decidedly black, not blue!
"I'm so fucked right now..." Winter muttered, taking a step backwards, then another, until he fully turned around and began running. However, he hadn't gone far before the creature leapt in front of him with a heavy thud, cracking the ground beneath its feet. Without wasting time, it swung its claws at Winter, who quickly jumped back, his face a picture of shock. In that moment, his instinct for survival kicked in, and he gritted his teeth, declaring his determination.
It swung its claws again, and he swiftly dodged, ducking under the heavy wind it generated. Then, he skidded beneath its belly, sprinting out from the other side and continuing straight ahead. It was best not to engage in a battle with something this large, even if he had the means to do so; that would be foolish, as this creature was surely stronger and quicker. Only a fool at his level of capability would choose to engage.
Winter was also aware that the Blue Hedge was capable of long jumps, so he turned into a narrow alley. Glancing back while running, he saw the creature already preparing to leap, but it fell squarely to the ground when its target shifted. He continued running, gripping the dagger tightly in his hands. Instantly, the Blue Hedge got back on its feet and roared, drool flying from its mouth. It then leapt onto the top of a building and began running, likely tracking him down. Out of the blue, it landed in front of Winter again the moment he emerged from the alley.
"Crap!"
This time, the spikes around its neck released and came for Winter—about six of them. He managed to sidestep one, knocking it out, but the next grazed his knee, narrowly avoiding tearing through his leg. He grimaced as crimson blood poured from the gash, the spikes making impact with the ground and stabbing the hard concrete effortlessly.
Desperately, he tried to devise an escape plan, but that was soon thwarted when the remaining four spikes struck. One pierced his shoulder while another aimed for his leg, sending him crashing back into the alley with powerful force. Blood splattered across the ground, and the pain made Winter shout and groan. The white in his eyes turned red, and the Blue Hedge showed no signs of stopping its relentless assault; it was desperate!
"Damn this feline!"
Another set of six spikes shot through again. Four were stopped by the walls of the narrow alley, but the remaining two struck him—one hitting the side of his body, narrowly missing his head, and the other making contact with his kneecap. He was unable to move and was surely dead at this point; his eyes screamed pain, and his body was covered in blood. The dagger slipped from his grasp as he tried to drag himself backwards, desperate not to die. However, the loss of so much blood would surely kill him.
He was certain the ugly bastard couldn't fit through the alley, and as he crawled back with immense desperation, the creature continually tried to enter the narrow space, its claws and head reaching out for Winter, beckoning him. It screeched and made all sorts of monstrous noises. Winter chose to stay in the alley, knowing this demonic being wouldn't be able to touch him here. But that luck soon ran out...
From behind him, a Dent Creature, hardly the size of a normal grown dog, spawned out of nowhere. Its skin radiated and writhed with different colours, shifting from indigo to black, red, blue, and then mixing together. It had no eyes, and its tail resembled that of a scorpion; the paws were deformed and incomplete, yet it somehow managed to walk. Such a type of Dent Creature had never been heard of, but this was surely a high-ranking creature—if he had to guess, a Glory rank. Dent Creatures at this rank are not as strong, being three ranks below the Kings' rank, but they possess supernatural bodies, such as acidic or radioactive skin.
In a blinding moment, the sharp tail tore through Winter's neck from above, gushing blood. However, the creature consumed this blood, leaving nothing to stain the ground. Surprisingly, the young man wasn't dead. The creature continued to drain the blood from his neck, his eyes widening in horror as his skin turned pale.
At that moment, he heard a mechanical voice, and from the corner of his eye, a red translucent, game-like screen appeared.
[The Demonic Influence has enjoyed your service. Hence, they shall reward you]
[Puppeteer] Demonic Leveling begins now.
You have received a Puppet: [Louis - Type 1]
Listening to the last message, his consciousness began to fade, and tears streamed down his cheeks.
***