I woke to the scent of blood—thick, metallic, and cloying. It clogged my throat, mixed with the suffocating heat of the air. Fear lingered too, though whether it was mine or the remnants of the battle, I couldn't tell. My body needed no time to remember where I was, and instinct took over as I tried to rise—only to fail.
Pain burned through me, but that wasn't the problem. No, the real reason I couldn't move was the massive corpse pinning me down. A dead wolf. No—the wolf. Its weight pressed against me, blood still trickling from its mangled throat, as if trying to exact some pitiful revenge even in death.
I gritted my teeth and pushed. My arms trembled, but I managed to lift the beast just enough to roll free. The moment I was clear, it thudded back onto the ground with a sickening squelch. I sat there for a moment, catching my breath. Then, slowly, a smile crept onto my face.
I had lifted it.
Despite everything—despite the fight, despite the wounds, despite nearly dying—I had moved it.
My body still ached, my skin still burned from open wounds, but the bleeding had slowed. The exhaustion that had weighed me down before had lifted, just enough for me to think clearly again. My strength had returned, even if only slightly.
"Finally, something positive," I muttered, a humorless smile tugging at my lips.
I turned my gaze to the ruined skyscraper beside me, its shattered remains casting a deep shadow over my body. That was when the thought struck me.
I took a step forward.
The moment I left the shade, a crushing fatigue slammed into me, dragging me back into weakness. My limbs turned sluggish, the dull pain sharpening into something more visceral.
"Ah. I see."
Memories flickered in my mind. Every time I had barely escaped, every moment I had miraculously survived—each time, I had been under some kind of shade. Even when I had lunged for my dagger in desperation, I had landed within the building's shadow.
It wasn't luck.
Shadows strengthened me.
A slow chuckle escaped me as I stepped back into the cool darkness. Immediately, the weakness faded, replaced by a familiar, intoxicating strength. But my amusement wasn't just for the discovery—it was for the trophy lying before me.
The beast's corpse sprawled across the ground, its fleshy body matted with blood. As I approached, something caught my eye—a faint carving on its throat, just above where my rusted blade had torn through.
"Spawn of Bonehowl."
I frowned.
The first thought that came to mind? Bonehowl. It sounded powerful. Unsettling.
The second?
"Spawn."
A cold weight settled in my stomach. The thing that had nearly killed me wasn't even the true threat. It was merely an offspring.
I let out a sharp breath and pressed my forehead against the beast's cold belly. The pain in my body had dulled, but the implications of that word—of what it meant—were far heavier than any wound.
Still, I allowed myself a moment to rest. Too much needed to be done, and all of it seemed impossible.
First, I had to find my family.
I had only survived my encounter with the Spawn of Bonehowl because of my ability. Without it, I wouldn't have lasted a second. No ordinary human could stand against a creature like that. And the people of the Barrens? Starving, fragile, barely clinging to life? They didn't stand a chance.
Logically, they were dead.
But my mind refused to accept that until I saw it with my own eyes. It was foolish. It was reckless. But I didn't care.
Second, I needed to master my ability.
Fast.
It wasn't that I didn't understand it—I had chosen it, after all. I knew, at least in theory, what I should be capable of. But there was a problem.
Sunlight weakened me.
Of course the damn deity had thrown in a drawback. That was why my power had refused to respond earlier. It was why I had survived being struck by something whose fist was the size of a house—because at that moment, dawn had barely broken, and my strength had yet to fade completely.
That would be a problem.
The third thing I needed? Allies.
I hated humans. But even I knew I couldn't survive this alone. And I doubted I was the only one granted an ability. If there was one thing I had learned from reading stolen books, it was that situations like this were always unfair.
Unfair.
But not impossible.
And the fourth? The most immediate?
I needed to leave. Now.
The beast was called a spawn. A wolf. And wolves didn't hunt alone. Maybe the others were far away. Maybe they weren't. Maybe I was just being paranoid.
But I wasn't about to take that chance.
With that, I rose to my feet, gripping my blade tightly as I approached the beast's massive claws. If I was going to survive, I needed a better weapon.
The knife in my hand was dull, rusted, barely holding together. The claws of the beast, though? Thick as daggers. Sharp enough to slice through steel.
I carved around one of them, prying it free.
If this was what I had to fight against, then I would fight with their weapons.
After that, I straightened, taking in the sorry state of my tattered clothing and battered body. Not that it mattered—anyone in my position would have little room for vanity. My gaze lifted toward the distant silhouette of my city, the colossal clocktower a faint but unmistakable beacon against the horizon. For the first time, it felt like the true beginning of my journey—my fear and pain had dissolved, leaving only resolve in their wake.
But fate, it seemed, had other plans.
Perched atop the remnants of a crumbling building, a figure lurked in the shadows. I didn't need a clearer view to recognize it—I knew all too well the twisted form of a Bonehowl spawn. Yet, unlike before, something within me had changed. The raw energy coursing through my veins, the abomination's claw now an extension of my own body—I felt just as monstrous, just as lethal. A grin twisted my lips.
And then, as if to mock my newfound confidence, they began appearing. One by one, emerging from the ruins like specters of death.
I counted six.
"Fuck."