"Wake up, you brats!" Remus roared, pounding on the door. "We leave in ten minutes! Gear up and meet in the courtyard!"
Nora, Penelope, and I jolted upright, scrambling into motion. My heart pounded—not just from anticipation of what lay ahead, but from sheer terror at being woken so violently. I was about to spend days in the wild—this was my final check for essentials.
I hugged Roscoe tightly before setting him back on the bed with reluctant care. His safety mattered most. This was the first time he wouldn't accompany me. It would be the first night in over a year without him beside me. But there were things to do—I couldn't linger. I dressed quickly, grabbed my spear, armor, and supplies, making sure everything was secured. I tucked a multi-tool knife into my pack, double-checked spare clothes and a blanket—practical necessities, light enough to carry. I needed to stay agile and alert. I rushed downstairs, wolfed down what I considered a reasonable portion, then joined the team.
I arrived third—right after Nora and Orville. Surprisingly, Bentley moved slower than Penelope, prompting teasing from the others—until Remus barked us forward. It felt surreal how fast everything had come together. Suddenly, life was accelerating beyond control. I guessed that's just how it was.
We jogged toward the city's edge, mostly undisturbed since most were still asleep. I'd never stood this close to the outer wall without entering the slums. The towering structure encircling Skyreach dwarfed even the tallest buildings. We reached the gates swiftly; guards saluted as Remus passed. At first, the outside view wasn't impressive—just volcanic rock we had to climb before continuing. But once atop the ridge…
Within the city, no sight existed beyond those stone walls. Outside was described as brutal, inhospitable—suited only for desperate travelers, madmen, and yes… hunters. Now, for the first time in my life, I saw it all.
"Beautiful," I whispered.
A narrow path wound from the gate, curving around the crater rim where jagged rocks scattered from an impact centuries ago. Further out, green thickened into vast, untamed jungle stretching beyond sight. For the first time, I saw the horizon—a boundless expanse beneath endless yellow sky. From here, I could see the world's edge, undeniable proof that we floated among suspended islands. I, who once arrogantly called a cramped city "great," now felt like a speck too small to matter.
I wasn't the only one awestruck. Even Remus paused, letting us take it in.
"It is beautiful," he admitted. "But everything you see poses a threat. This is it, kids. No one knows what lies beyond. Your training won't fully prepare you. Stay alert. Learn fast… or die."
"Yes, sir!" our squad responded in unison, then pressed forward.
Hours passed, yet the scenery never grew dull. In the city, familiar souls—bugs, vermin, birds—surrounded me. Here, overwhelming variety overwhelmed my senses, not to mention strange new objects without souls—things I barely understood. I pushed through waist-high grass, guiding the group. An hour in, a sharp spike startled me—a foul-smelling green soul I wanted nothing to do with. I led us around it. Yet as we ventured farther, dangerous souls multiplied, constantly testing my perception. By the time we reached the jungle, they were everywhere—each unique, each threatening. Eventually, I had no choice but to lead us through danger—it was the only way forward.
"I don't think avoiding threats entirely is possible anymore," I told the group after five hours. "If we want to keep moving, we'll have to fight something."
"What kind of thing?" Nora asked.
I hesitated. I hadn't explained much about my soul-perception—the way certain beings felt , nor did I want to reveal its true nature as soul-devouring magic. Two relatively safe paths presented themselves: one near a cluster of small red souls, another dangerously close to a massive, sweet-tasting sharp soul. I didn't know which was safer until approaching them directly.
I took a deep breath. They were my teammates. I should hear their thoughts. Besides, this wasn't too far from what they already knew.
"The two safest routes I sense are either past a large sharp presence or through a group of smaller 'pulsing' ones," I said.
"...Pulsing?" Orville asked.
"Yeah, like... they pulse. Not literally, probably. My ability isn't exactly scientific."
"Smaller creatures then," Penelope immediately decided. "Give me a good vantage point—we won't need direct engagement."
The rest nodded. Remus remained neutral.
"...Sounds fine," Nora agreed. "You won't run out of energy doing this?"
"Please," Penelope rolled her eyes. "I've got more than enough. Honestly, I can't wait for you all to see my real capabilities."
"Alright then," I pointed ahead. "This way."
Twenty minutes later, tension thickened unbearably. I halted the group, climbed a tree carefully. There—clearing ahead revealed pig-like creatures, fat and slow-moving on short legs. Each roughly the size of an obese housecat, long snouts, no visible eyes. They munched lazily on plants, seemingly harmless—if not for their strange, unsettling souls.
We couldn't afford early risks. I extended a hand from the branch. Nora lifted Penelope to me. I pointed. She nodded, focused her will. A subtle shift in her soul followed.
Nothing happened—for a minute. I held my breath, giving her time. Then one dropped. Another. One by one, eleven collapsed. Dead. Their souls drifted upward faintly, lingering above corpses. Small compared to human souls—but larger than rats'. A significant gain.
I scanned thoroughly—confirmed every unseen soul gone dark. Dead souls shone brightly in my mind. I wanted them. How could I approach unnoticed…?
Ah. Idea.
"...They're dead," I announced. "Should we collect anything useful?"
Remus leapt onto the branch, peering down.
"Hmm. Not our mission, but good thinking, Vita. Come down—learning opportunity."
He jumped, I followed, helping Penelope down. Perfect! Valuable loot meant a perfect excuse to draw near and claim those souls! Calm. Don't look too eager.
"How did you do that, Penelope?" I asked, feigning curiosity while mentally drooling over the floating souls.
"I created an airborne virus targeting their central nervous system," she answered casually.
"Wait, what?" Orville asked. "That sounds dangerous. Are we safe?"
"Don't worry!" Bentley grinned. "Penelope wouldn't endanger us!"
"Right," she confirmed. "You're all fine. If anyone gets infected, I'll cure them."
"Wonderful reassurance," Nora muttered.
"No idle chatter," Remus ordered. "Bring the bodies here."
"I'll help!" I volunteered eagerly. Perfect!
"Careful."
I approached the nearest corpse, seized its soul, stored it in my arm. I resisted immediate absorption, lifting the body instead. Fleshy, pungent—rotten eggs mixed with flatulence. Carefully collecting each, I claimed their souls discreetly before delivering them to Remus.
"You're lucky to have an offensive biomancer," Remus stated flatly, making Penelope puff proudly. "These are blast boars. Highly aggressive, spitting acid. They explode if struck wrong or kicked too hard."
Silence fell.
"...Explode, sir?" Orville slowly asked.
"Not inflate. Explode."
Remus cut into a boar's side with a blade. We flinched, expecting detonation. None came. He sliced carefully, extracting a bladder-like organ soaked his gloves in blood.
"This is valuable. In the city, it sells well—some chemical inside. I'll demonstrate removal—then you'll try. Don't screw it up."
For half an hour, I dissected cautiously, terrified of triggering explosions. Once everyone retrieved the sacs, we continued.
"Not bad," Remus said. "You're slower than ideal, but alive."
"Thank you, sir," I sincerely replied. Eleven souls—each nearly child-sized! "Can these sacs be used as weapons in emergencies, or better sold?"
"Sell," he answered bluntly. "Stronger individuals might throw them forcefully enough to burst, but skilled craftsmen make better bombs from the contents."
When he quoted the price, I almost stumbled. Enough to feed the children for a week! I let Remus carry the sacs—I had no desire to accidentally set off these "time bombs" mid-fight.
The day proceeded similarly. At our own pace, we dealt with wildlife—mostly via Penelope eliminating them before detection. She unnerved me sometimes, smiling smugly after killing entire groups. I wondered if I wore the same expression when absorbing souls.
More importantly, I gathered many more souls, disguising my greed as financial ambition. Remus seemed pleased with my "business sense," happily teaching our squad how to extract the most valuable parts from slain creatures.
Not all souls I collected. Some I left behind—too risky to raise suspicion. Sometimes Remus dismissed creatures as worthless. Those glowing, delicious remnants tempted me. But deliberately leaving some behind taught an important lesson: if left untouched too long, souls sank—pulled downward by something undetectable, dragged beneath the island to unknown depths. I shuddered, pushing away memories of that mysterious entity touching me…
"We should camp soon," Nora announced. "In a few hours, 'Giant's Thumb' passes overhead. Vita needs rest before tonight's watch."
I nodded gratefully. None of us would admit exhaustion. Jungle travel proved slow, stressful, grueling. My body ached, but mental fatigue ran deeper. They couldn't know how many dangers I'd steered them clear of.
Camp setup took little time. I barely finished arranging my makeshift bed before ordered to sleep. Though daylight remained, I collapsed instantly—Roscoe absent, comfort missing. Only moments later, Bentley shook me awake. I blinked repeatedly, realizing total darkness—no city lights. Only a massive rock overhead blocked the sky.
"So soon?" I mumbled.
"Sorry, Vita!" Bentley whispered. "I couldn't see anything! Everyone else is asleep."
I nodded, stretched quietly, emerged from my blanket. Many souls surrounded us—thankfully, few moved. Probably everything slept… except me.
I extended my perception. Souls generally remained stable regardless of host state, though minor fluctuations occurred. I hoped to refine detecting these changes. Progress lagged expectations, but determining consciousness remained manageable. Important—I needed Remus asleep before consuming hidden souls.
Focused, I studied carefully. The old man definitely slept. Finally. I'd waited all day for this.
I pulled a soul forth, devoured it—strength surged through me. So good. Fatigue from a long day and brief sleep eased slightly. I wanted to consume them all—nearly twenty left! Hunting paid well! But restraint held me back: if Lynn noticed my strength, Remus surely would too. Would he wake sensing sudden power nearby? Would he question me?
Caution prevailed. Just a guess—but better safe than arrogant. Emergency reserves could be devoured if needed. And whatever pulled stray souls beneath the island showed no interest in mine. That alone brought relief.
Reinvigorated, I kept watch through the night, taking occasional "sinful snacks." Six hours later, Giant's Thumb shifted, sunlight filtering through. Morning came swiftly. I consumed four boar souls—still fresh-eyed. My gap with the others narrowed (though maybe widened against Orville). I felt lighter, sharper. Remus stirred, watching me closely—but if he sensed anything, he said nothing.
Excitement stirred within—but I remembered Rowan's warning: skill outranked brute force. Still… with enough power…
"Vita, how was your watch? Was it boring?" Nora asked.
"Not really," I answered. "Much to think about."
She chuckled.
"Well, if you want rest, we'll cover from now on."
I shook my head, rising. I felt great—and we had a long way to go before reaching the last reported molehound sighting.
Things weren't as terrible as I feared. I survived worse in the slums! I hoped the journey ahead went smoothly.
But somehow, I knew better.
This was wishful thinking.