The waystation sat like a rotting carcass on the side of the road.
Once, it must have been a safe haven for merchants traveling between villages and the capital: sturdy walls, an open courtyard, and a well at its heart. Now it was nothing but a husk. Stone walls sagged as if tired of standing, the gate leaned inward on one rusted hinge, and the stench of death rolled out heavy enough to choke.
Zeke Blade adjusted the strap of his pack. His ribs still ached from the warg ambush the night before, but his steps didn't falter. His sword felt heavier than usual on his hip, but it was the kind of weight he welcomed.
Raven Nightwind walked ahead, silver hair sharp against the gray sky, white armor untouched by dust or blood. She hadn't looked back once. She didn't need to. People either kept pace or they fell away, and Raven did not waste thought on the latter.
Iris Vale clutched her staff and drifted closer to Zeke, her ribbon frayed from the wind. She covered her nose with her sleeve and whispered, "We shouldn't go in there."
"No argument," Zeke murmured back, his hand brushing the hilt of his sword.
Raven's voice cut through like a blade. "The road passes through here. Avoiding it would add a day."
"And?" Iris snapped. "So we waste a day. At least we stay alive."
Raven didn't slow, didn't even turn her head. "The road doesn't care how long you take. If you're weak, it will claim you wherever you walk."
Her words shut down argument. The truth in them was cold and sharp.
Zeke exhaled slowly and followed Raven through the leaning gates.
The courtyard was worse than the smell had promised.
Bones lay scattered across the ground—human, horse, even oxen. Some had been gnawed clean, others shattered for marrow. The stone well at the center bubbled with black, stagnant water, swarmed by flies. The walls bore claw marks deep enough to bury an arm, and blood—old, dark, caked—stained the stone.
Zeke's gut turned. He'd seen slaughter before: wolves tearing goats, boars mauling hounds. But this wasn't hunger. This was cruelty.
A growl rolled out from the collapsed barracks.
Low. Deliberate. A sound made to be heard.
Zeke's hand gripped his sword hilt. Iris flinched, knuckles white on her staff. Raven stopped, rain-colored eyes narrowing just slightly.
From the shadows, the Pack Leader emerged.
It was taller than a man, hunched forward, muscles coiled like ropes beneath ash-colored skin. Claws longer than sickles dragged sparks from the stone. A crown of bone jutted from its skull, decorated with trophies: teeth, scraps of cloth, fingers tied by tendon. Its eyes burned—not red like the lesser imps, but green. Bright. Intelligent. Hateful.
Its mouth spread into a grin too wide for a face, fangs gleaming.
[Hostile Detected: Rift-Scaled Imp Pack Leader]
[Threat Level: Deadly — Recommended Party Strength: Essence Realm]
[Kill Reward: 25 Points]
The System's text sent a chill down Zeke's spine. He was still Mortal, only 12% into Body Tempering. Fighting this thing was suicide.
But his body refused to back down.
Raven raised her glowing blade, white light humming to life. "Hold position," she ordered. "I'll—"
The Pack Leader roared.
The ground shuddered. From the broken walls, lesser imps crawled like vermin, shrieking in chorus.
"Too many!" Iris gasped.
Zeke's sword was already in his hands.
The first imp lunged. His blade split it midair, Iron Channel roaring through his arm. Blade Flow carried him into the next swing, cutting the second across the chest. He thrust into the third before its claws reached him.
[Kills Confirmed x3]
[+30 Points]
More crawled from the walls. Zeke met them in rhythm: step, swing, cut, thrust. His body hurt, but the rhythm carried him forward.
Then the Pack Leader moved.
Not a lunge. A blur.
Zeke barely raised his sword in time. Claws slammed against his blade, sending him flying. His ribs cracked as he smashed against the well. His sword almost slipped from his grip.
The Pack Leader stalked closer, green eyes glinting cruel amusement. It didn't hurry. It wanted him to see death coming.
Zeke staggered up, blood running down his chest. His arms shook, his breath rattled, but his blade rose anyway.
The monster grinned wider. It liked this prey.
Then it blurred again.
Claws tore across his chest, ripping bandages, spilling fresh blood. Pain exploded white-hot. His knees buckled.
[Warning: HP Critical.]
[Essence Channels Collapsing — Injury Imminent.]
[Recommendation: Retreat Immediately.]
"Not… an option," Zeke rasped, teeth clenched.
He forced essence through his veins. His body screamed, bones burning as if they would snap. He swung anyway, but the Pack Leader swatted the blade aside like straw.
His body collapsed to one knee. Breath came in jagged gasps. His chest felt full of knives.
The monster loomed over him, claws raised for the killing strike.
The System froze.
The Shop's cold voice vanished.
Another voice rose.
[You stubborn fool.]
Warm. Steady. Female.
Zeke blinked through blood. "Who—?"
[The one who's been watching you bleed yourself dry since Shardbrook. You pull essence like a child yanking harp strings. You'll break.]
"I don't care," he hissed, blood dripping from his lips. "Help me stand."
[Then listen. Breathe with me.]
A rhythm pulsed in his chest. Not heartbeat. Not breath. Both. In sync. His grip steadied. His chest burned less like fire, more like fuel.
[Skill Unlocked: Last Stand Resonance (Unique F)]
[For five heartbeats, you will not falter.]
The world snapped back into motion.
The Pack Leader's claws came down.
Zeke's blade rose.
Steel screamed against claw. His sword held. His rhythm carried him.
He slashed. Once. Twice. The monster's arm split, green blood spraying across stone.
It roared.
Zeke roared back.
His second strike cleaved its ribs. His third pierced its thigh. His fourth split its jaw. Each heartbeat a strike, each step a note in a rhythm older than fear.
On the fifth, his blade sank into its throat.
The Pack Leader gagged, claws swiping wildly. Its green eyes burned hatred into him, then dimmed like dying coals.
It collapsed, shaking the courtyard.
Zeke stood swaying, chest heaving, sword dripping green. The glow faded. Pain returned in a flood. His legs buckled.
He coughed blood and laughed weakly.
[Kill Confirmed: Rift-Scaled Imp Pack Leader]
[+25 Points]
[Bonus: Boss Slayer +15 Points]
[Trait Upgrade: Stubborn → Unyielding]
[Shop Discount +5%]
[Skill Added: Last Stand Resonance]
Raven had not moved. Her blade remained sheathed, her face unreadable, but her eyes were sharper than daggers.
"You should be dead," she said.
"I get that a lot," Zeke croaked.
Iris was already at his side, hands fumbling with bandages, eyes blazing with fear and anger. "You're insane! You nearly—" Her voice cracked. Tears welled, but she forced them back, pressing cloth to his wounds with trembling hands.
Zeke caught her wrist weakly. "Not insane. Just… stubborn."
Her lips trembled. "Idiot."
Raven lingered, studying him as if weighing a coin. Then she turned, her armor whispering. "Rest tonight. At dawn, we move. Seven days until Zenith's outer ring. Seven days of ambushes, beasts, and worse. Survive them, and you'll see the capital. Fail, and the road will eat you."
She vanished into shadow.
Zeke sagged against the well, battered but alive. The panels hovered in his vision, and beneath them, softer words pulsed.
[Hello, Zeke Blade. I am your Guide. Call me Eve.]
[You wanted power. I'll make sure you live long enough to use it.]
Zeke's bloody grin split his lips. "Finally."
The road stretched ahead, seven days long, paved with blood and promises. And for the first time, he wasn't walking it alone.