Gale awakens to the noise, thinking, "Is there a party happening?" Realizing the sun is already up, he heads to his window. There, he sees multiple kobolds tearing a man limb from limb. The man is screaming in agony.
Then it hit him—like a freight train slamming into his chest.
He was back. Back at the very start.
"What just happened?" Gale's thoughts spun as a sudden surge of pain tore through his face, as if his flesh had been ripped off all over again. He stumbled, forcing himself to pull up his menu.
Class: PlundererStats:
Durability: 5
Strength: 4
Intelligence: 18
Speed: 4
Stamina: 4
Mana: 6
Divinity: 0
Echoes: 1
Equipment:
Worn and Torn Dagger (Rank: FFF–)
"So I died… and kept all my stats? What is this, an—"
His words caught in his throat. The chest was back.
Turning quickly, Gale approached and flung it open. Inside lay a pair of boots.
Item Acquired:Boots of Speed (Rank: FFF)
He slipped them on without hesitation. A faint surge of energy coursed through him, and his Speed ticked up by one.
A sudden thought of Ryan slammed into Gale's mind like a lightning bolt. Where is he?
Before he could move, a kobold burst through the window with a guttural screech. But this time, Gale wasn't the same helpless fool. He already knew what was coming.
He gripped his dagger tight, angling the blade toward its open jaws.
Skress!
The creature's skull split against the steel, warm blood spraying across Gale's face. The weight of its lifeless body hit the floor with a dull thud.
His chest heaved, not from exertion, but from the raw terror and fury twisting inside him. I died. I came back. And they're still here…
Then he heard it—the wet tearing of flesh, the gnashing of teeth, the pitiful sound of a man's gurgled screams already fading into silence.
Ryan's father.
Gale's stomach churned, bile rising in his throat. He wanted to vomit, wanted to close his eyes and pretend none of this was real. But Ryan… Ryan still needed him.
Clenching his jaw, Gale forced himself to move. He darted through the door, weaving past the kobolds still devouring Ryan's father's mangled corpse. He didn't dare look back; the image was already burned into his mind.
Not again. Not this time.
Gale slammed his shoulder against the door, wood splintering as it burst open. Without hesitation, he snatched Ryan into his arms.
The boy flinched, eyes wide with terror. He didn't remember any of this—didn't remember the monsters, didn't remember dying. To Ryan, Gale was just a stranger drenched in blood.
"Shhh," Gale whispered, trying to steady his trembling voice. "It's me. You're safe. I've got you."
But there was no time to explain. The snarls and claws scraping against the floorboards below reminded him how little time they had.
He sprinted upstairs, Ryan clinging to him in silent confusion and fear. His eyes darted frantically for anything—anything—that could keep the monsters out.
Bursting into Ryan's father's room, he set the boy down gently. "Hide behind me," he murmured.
He shoved his shoulder under the heavy TV stand and strained against its weight, dragging it across the floor. The screech of wood and metal against the boards was deafening, but he didn't stop until it slammed in front of the door.
"Stay quiet," Gale whispered, crouching down to meet Ryan's terrified gaze. "No matter what happens, don't make a sound."
Gale didn't bother trying to explain—there were no words Ryan could ever understand for what was happening. All that mattered was keeping him calm and alive.
He crouched close, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Remember me? I babysat you once. Something dangerous is happening, so you have to stay really quiet, okay?"
Ryan's wide, tearful eyes softened. A tiny, trembling smile spread across his face as he nodded frantically.
"Good," Gale murmured, forcing his own voice to stay steady. "Stay close."
His eyes swept the room, searching for anything that could help. A leather jacket hung over the back of a chair. He grabbed it and pulled it on, the familiar weight settling around his shoulders like a promise that he'd protect the boy—no matter what came through that door.
The floorboards below creaked.
Gale froze, straining his ears. The snarls of kobolds echoed through the house, claws scraping against the walls as they prowled, sniffing for any hint of prey. The wet sounds of tearing flesh had stopped—Ryan's father was gone. Now they were hunting.
A heavier sound joined the chaos. Slow, deliberate. Each thud of paw against wood sent a chill racing up Gale's spine. The growl that followed wasn't like the kobolds' high-pitched yips; it was deeper, rumbling—a predator's warning.
A dire wolf.
Ryan clung to Gale's sleeve, trembling. Gale pressed a finger to his lips and mouthed, quiet. The boy buried his face against Gale's side to stifle any sound.
From beyond the barricaded door came a low sniff, then a snarl. The wood quivered under the weight of something pressing against it. Gale's hand tightened around his dagger. He could feel his own heartbeat pounding in his ears, every muscle coiled to either fight or flee.
The kobolds began chittering excitedly, their claws clicking against the floor. The dire wolf growled again, louder this time. It knew.
Gale's mind raced. The barricade would only hold for so long. And when it gave way…
Then, a glowing notification appeared in the air before him, pulsing like a heartbeat.
[New Quest Acquired]
Title:Kobold Hunt – Thief of the VoidObjective: Kill 5 koboldsReward: Obtain a Kobold Skill (Class-based)
Gale blinked, swallowing hard. His chest tightened. The quest made no promises of mercy, no illusions of safety. But it gave him a direction, a way to fight back against the monsters hunting them.
He took a slow, silent breath and glanced at Ryan. The boy's tiny hands gripped his jacket tight. Gale tightened his grip on the dagger.
If they find us, I'll be ready. I have to be.
The notification lingered in his vision, glowing faintly against the shadows of the room. Killing five kobolds… gaining their skill… it sounded almost impossible, but the alternative—doing nothing—was certain death.
The dire wolf sniffed again, claws scraping. The kobolds' chittering grew louder, more impatient. Time was running out.
Gale pressed himself back against the wall, drawing Ryan close. His dagger glinted in the dim light, and his mind raced through every tactic, every scrap of knowledge he'd ever learned from games or fight simulations.
I survive. I kill. I take their power.
Gale pressed himself against the wall, heart hammering in his chest. The glowing quest floated in his vision, reminding him of the impossible task ahead.
Five kobolds. Kill them. Gain a skill.
But his mind didn't focus on rewards. It focused on Ryan. The boy's small body trembled against his side, eyes wide with terror.
What power will I gain? Gale thought, tightening his grip on the dagger. Is it even worth it? Am I willing to risk Ryan's life for some skill I might not even control?
The growls and scratching outside were closer now, a grim reminder that hesitation could mean death.
We can't fight yet. We need to get out first.
Every instinct screamed at him: move, escape, survive. Every game he'd ever played, every simulation he'd run in his head, boiled down to one truth—survival comes before glory. Before power.
He took a shallow breath and whispered to Ryan, keeping his voice low and steady, "We're going to get out of this. Just stay close, and don't make a sound. Okay?"
Ryan nodded, burying his face closer to Gale's chest.
The dire wolf growled again, claws dragging against the floor, and the kobolds chittered hungrily. Time was running out.
First, we survive. Then… we fight. Then… maybe I gain something. But not now. Not if Ryan dies.
Gale's eyes flicked to the barricade. Every second, the monsters tested it, every creak of wood a reminder that their fragile refuge would not hold forever. He drew a silent, trembling breath.
We get out first. Everything else comes after.
And with that resolve, he braced himself, dagger in hand, body coiled, ready to move at the first opening.
Gale's mind snapped into action. The window—the second floor. That's our way out.
He grabbed a blanket, wrapping it loosely around Ryan like a shield. "Hold on tight!" he whispered, voice shaking but firm. The boy clutched the fabric, eyes wide, trusting him completely.
With a running start, Gale slammed into the window. Glass shattered everywhere, spraying like rain. He felt it slice into his arms and legs, jagged pain exploding with every movement, but he didn't stop.
They crashed onto the landing outside, the impact jarring Gale's bones, but he held Ryan close, shielding him from the worst of it. Blood stung his skin, mixing with the adrenaline surging through his body.
The house across the street was untouched, a silent promise of safety in the chaos.
Behind them, a low growl ripped through the broken window of their own house. The dire wolf and the kobolds had noticed. They were coming.
Gale didn't look back. He sprinted, each step sending shards of glass cutting into his palms and legs, pain igniting every nerve, but he kept moving. Ryan pressed against his chest, silent, terrified—but alive.
They reached the back of the neighboring house. Gale didn't hesitate. He threw open the door, slipping inside with Ryan still wrapped in the blanket. The door slammed behind them.
Outside, the growls and chittering rose in fury. Inside, for the first time since the attack began, Gale allowed himself a brief moment to breathe. Ryan was safe—for now.
But the hunt wasn't over.
Gale pressed Ryan close, glancing around the untouched interior. We need a plan. Fast.
Gale stumbled through the house, blood from his cuts stinging with every movement. He reached the bathroom, yanked open the first aid kit, and grabbed bandages, antiseptic, and anything that could help stop the bleeding. He didn't pause to use them yet—every second counted.
He crept upstairs, chest tight, every floorboard a potential alarm. The house smelled of decay. The family that had once lived here was long dead, victims of the kobolds' rampage. Their belongings were scattered, rooms desecrated. Death hung in the air, thick and suffocating.
Then, in the master bedroom, a lone kobold stood—motionless, staring at him and Ryan with predatory yellow eyes. Its claws scraped softly against the wood, deliberate, patient.
Gale's stomach dropped. It's just one, but one can kill us if I hesitate.
He pulled the dagger from his belt, feeling the jagged edge bite into his palm. Pain flared in his leg where the earlier glass cuts had torn him open. Every step sent searing agony through him, but he forced himself forward.
The kobold hissed, low and guttural, then leapt.
Gale lunged to meet it, swinging the dagger with all the strength he had left. The creature twisted, claws raking across his shoulder. Pain shot through him, white-hot, but he rolled and stabbed upward, catching the beast in the ribcage. It screeched and twisted violently, slashing his forearm in retaliation. Blood spattered the walls.
He fell back, staggering, each breath a struggle. The kobold lunged again, faster this time, and Gale had to duck under its claws, the tip of his dagger grazing its side. He rolled to the floor, pain radiating through his legs and back, and grabbed at the creature's neck, shoving it hard into the dresser.
It howled in fury, slashing wildly, cutting into Gale's thigh. He gritted his teeth, ignoring the agony, and plunged the dagger upward with a guttural scream. The kobold screeched, claws flailing uselessly, before collapsing in a heap, twitching.
Gale fell to his knees, panting, every muscle trembling. His leg throbbed, his shoulder burned, and blood ran freely from dozens of shallow cuts. Ryan huddled behind him, wide-eyed, clutching the blanket tight.
For a moment, there was silence. Only the echo of the kobold's dying cries filled the room. Gale's chest heaved, eyes locked on Ryan.
We survive. I have to keep us alive. No matter what.
He forced himself upright, retrieving his dagger from the floor. Every step, every movement was agony, but he had no choice. The hunt wasn't over. Somewhere out there, more monsters were coming—and he would face them all if it meant keeping Ryan alive.
Gale collapsed onto the floor, trembling. Blood dripped from his arms and legs where the glass had sliced him open, and every movement sent white-hot pain radiating through his body.
He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to sit upright. Hands shaking, he began pulling shards of glass from his flesh, each one sending a fresh wave of agony through him. He whimpered softly, eyes clouded with pain, but he didn't stop. Ryan huddled beside him, silent and wide-eyed, gripping the blanket tightly.
Once the worst shards were removed, Gale tore open the antiseptic from the first aid kit and poured it over the wounds. The burning made him hiss, his hands slick with his own blood.
"Ah… damn it…" he groaned, his voice barely a whisper. His cloudy eyes reflected panic as he listened.
From downstairs, the scraping of claws and chittering grew louder. The kobolds were getting closer.
Gale's heart pounded in his chest, each beat a painful reminder that time was running out. He wrapped the bandages around his injuries as best as he could, ignoring the searing pain, trying to protect Ryan and himself.
Every instinct screamed at him: move, escape, survive. Yet for a moment, he just sat there, whimpering quietly, the weight of fear and pain pressing down like a physical force.
And still, the monsters drew closer.
I have to keep going… we can't stay here… not now…
Gale forced himself upright again, clutching the dagger in one hand, Ryan in the other. The hunt wasn't over. The nightmare wasn't over. And they had no choice but to run.
Gale steadied himself, forcing a deep breath through the sting of blood and fire coursing through his legs and arms. Every movement sent shards of pain flaring through his body, but he couldn't stop. Not now. Not with Ryan depending on him.
We get out. That's step one.
He wrapped the remaining bandages as best he could, slinging the blanket-wrapped Ryan onto his back. The boy clung to him, shivering, eyes wide and silent. Gale whispered, "Hold on tight. I've got you."
The floorboards below groaned under the weight of the approaching kobolds and the low, rumbling growl of the dire wolf. Every scrape of claws was a countdown, every sniff a reminder that the monsters were closing in.
Gale scanned the room—then saw it: the second-story window. A way out.
With Ryan held tightly, he sprinted toward it, ignoring the pain searing his calves and arms. He threw himself at the glass. Shards exploded around them, tearing at his clothes and skin. He felt hot, stabbing pain in his arms and legs, but he didn't falter.
They crashed onto the landing outside. Gale gritted his teeth against the impact, blood streaming down his face, his arms and legs cut and bruised. Ryan yelped once, but Gale held him close, whispering, "We're alive. We're okay."
The growls and chittering erupted behind him as the monsters realized their prey was escaping. Gale didn't look back. He sprinted across the yard, each step sending shards of pain through his torn flesh. Ryan clung to him, trembling but still alive.
The house across the street was untouched—a silent promise of safety. Gale burst through the back door without hesitation, stumbling inside. The slam of the door behind them was deafening in the tense silence.
Inside, Gale pressed Ryan against the wall, panting, every breath labored. Blood from his wounds soaked the bandages and dripped onto the floor. The hunt wasn't over. Outside, the kobolds and the dire wolf prowled, testing the perimeter.
But inside, for a few precious seconds, they were safe.
Gale lowered himself to the floor, trying to steady his trembling hands and aching body. He whispered, more to himself than Ryan, "We survive… we keep moving… and then we fight."
Ryan's small hand brushed against his, a fragile anchor in the chaos. Gale stared at him, chest tight. I can't let anything happen to him. Not now. Not ever.
The monsters outside wouldn't give up. And Gale knew the next moments would decide everything.
Gale pressed his back against the wall, catching his breath, blood still dripping from the deep cuts across his arms and legs. His eyes scanned the room, alert for any movement, any hint that the monsters outside had found them.
Then something caught his eye—a chest tucked into the corner, half-hidden beneath a fallen chair. His heart thumped in his chest. Another chest? After everything… could it be useful?
Ignoring the sting in his wounds, he staggered toward it, throwing himself onto his knees to lift the lid. Dust rose in a small cloud, glittering in the weak sunlight filtering through the windows.
Inside lay a single book, bound in worn green leather, its cover etched with curling, leafy designs. A faint hum seemed to vibrate from it, almost like it was alive.
Vine Warp… Gale read the embossed title aloud under his breath, eyes wide.
He carefully pulled it out. A faint glow ran along his hands as he flipped through the pages. Symbols pulsed with energy, intricate diagrams showing vines that could twist, stretch, and teleport across space.
A magic skill…? A real skill… His mind raced, trying to reconcile the danger outside with the potential power in his hands. If he could learn this, maybe—just maybe—he could turn the tide, defend Ryan, even fight back against the monsters chasing them.
He tucked the book under his arm, feeling the weight of it. It was fragile, yes—but it was also a promise. A weapon he could wield when the chaos of the world came crashing through the walls.
Gale glanced toward Ryan, still huddled against the wall, eyes wide but trusting. I can't screw this up. Not now.
The chittering outside reminded him the monsters were still hunting, still waiting. Every second wasted could be fatal.
He inhaled deeply, the pain in his limbs flaring sharply, and whispered to himself: Vine Warp… let's see what you can do. And then… we get out of this alive.
Gale pressed himself against the wall, blood running down his arms and legs, every movement a fresh stab of pain. The chest before him glimmered, and inside lay a green leather-bound book, etched with curling, leafy designs.
He opened it cautiously. The moment his fingers brushed the first page, a sharp, tingling energy surged through his body.
[New Skill Acquired: Vine Warp — Rank FFF-]
A small window appeared in his vision:
Skill Limit: 2 Vines at a time.Effect: Vines can extend, constrict, or pull objects. Limited power at FFF- rank.
Gale blinked, overwhelmed. F–? FFF-? So… this is weak? He scowled but didn't have time to complain. Every second, the chittering and growls outside pressed closer.
"Alright… let's see what you can do," he whispered, flipping to the diagrams. His hands traced the symbols, feeling the energy flow through his fingers.
A faint green tendril sprouted from the floor. It twisted like a living vine. Encouraged, Gale forced his focus and summoned a second. Two vines stretched into the air, quivering with raw, unrefined power.
Outside, a kobold skittered toward the room, claws scratching. Gale's stomach twisted. He couldn't afford mistakes.
He directed one vine at the creature's legs. The vine wrapped around its limbs, but at the FFF- rank, it was weak. The kobold yelped, flailing—but the vine held, enough to unbalance it.
The second vine he sent toward the wall, bracing himself and Ryan, preparing to lift them over the shattered banister if needed.
The kobold recovered quickly, snapping at the first vine. Gale hissed in pain as he struggled to maintain control, the skill straining against his willpower. Two vines… only two… that's it. I have to make them count.
With a grunt, he yanked the first vine, swinging the kobold into a wall. It screeched, sprawling to the floor, momentarily stunned.
The dire wolf's growl rumbled from outside. Time was running out.
Gale glanced down at Ryan, small and terrified in his arms. I can't fail him. He summoned both vines again, one wrapping around a portion of the banister, the other snapping forward toward a nearby support beam. With a shove, he lifted himself and Ryan, tumbling through the shattered window.
Glass cut into him as they landed hard on the street, blood stinging, muscles screaming in protest. But they were alive.
The kobolds and the wolf froze, momentarily confused by the strange, twitching vines. Gale pressed Ryan close, whispering, "We keep moving. Two vines, that's all I've got… but it's enough."
Pain, blood, and fear pulsed through him, but for the first time, he felt a fragile spark of control in the chaos.
I have a skill. I have a chance. And I'll make it count.
With that thought, they sprinted into the streets, shadows of monsters snapping at their heels, and Gale's two fragile vines the only lifeline between them and death.
Gale stumbled down the street, Ryan clutched tightly against his chest, the boy's small body trembling. Each step sent fire shooting through Gale's arms and legs from the glass cuts, but he forced himself onward.
Behind them, the chittering of kobolds grew louder, claws scraping concrete, teeth glinting in the morning light. The low rumble of the dire wolf followed, each step heavy, deliberate, deadly.
Two vines… two only. Make them count.
Gale lashed the first vine toward a lamppost, wrapping it around the metal pole. He yanked sharply, pulling a trash can into the path of the pursuing kobolds. They stumbled, crashing into one another with screeches of anger.
The second vine shot forward toward a nearby fence, snagging a loose board. He tugged it free and swung it like a crude barrier, slowing the dire wolf's advance just enough to create a few critical steps of distance.
One kobold had recovered and lunged at him. Gale jabbed the first vine into its chest, yanking it sideways. The creature screeched, claws scraping the asphalt. His muscles burned, pain flaring from his wounds, but he managed to hook the second vine around its tail, yanking it into a pile of overturned trash.
Ryan whimpered, clinging tighter. "Gale… it's going to—"
"Quiet," Gale hissed. "We move, or we die."
They rounded a corner, the monsters still relentless. Gale's legs screamed with each step, blood dripping from raw cuts. He lashed the first vine forward, snagging a street sign and yanking it down into the path of the kobolds. One went flying, hitting the pavement with a sickening thud.
The dire wolf snarled, confused and furious. Gale grabbed Ryan and leapt over a fence, vines snapping taut, pulling them up just enough to clear the obstacle. Pain tore through his arms, but the small burst of height saved them both.
Just a little further…
The kobolds regrouped, but Gale's limited vines forced him to prioritize: block, trip, create space. He could feel his strength waning, blood loss catching up to him, but each maneuver bought precious seconds.
Ryan's grip on him tightened, small arms clutching for safety. Gale whispered, voice raw, "Hold on, Ryan. Almost there. We're not done yet."
They sprinted toward an alley leading to a smaller house across the street—their temporary sanctuary. The last vine he had snapped forward to hook a dumpster, swinging it into the path of the wolf, slowing it just long enough to reach the backdoor.
Gale hurled it open and stumbled inside, collapsing against the wall, Ryan pressed tight against him. Outside, the monsters snarled and clawed at the doors and fences.
For a moment, silence. Only their ragged breaths filled the space. Gale's wounds burned, his body a map of blood and pain—but they were alive.
He looked down at Ryan, small and trembling, and whispered, "We survived… this time."
But even as he spoke, Gale knew the danger wasn't over. The hunt would continue, and with only two fragile FFF- vines, every step forward would be a desperate gamble.
Gale forced himself to his feet, muscles screaming, Ryan clutched tightly against his chest. Blood dripped from his arms and legs, clothes torn and soaked. Each step burned, but they had to keep moving.
The monsters were still behind them, claws scraping and teeth snapping, but Gale led them down a narrow street, ducking through alleys and over fences. Every turn was a gamble, every movement a test of endurance and skill.
Finally, they reached a small taco shop at the edge of the block. The building was already ruined—walls cracked, windows shattered, and debris littering the floor. It was the perfect place to hide.
Gale pushed the door open, helping Ryan inside. The boy collapsed to the floor, trembling and silent. Gale followed, slumping against a counter for support, trying to catch his breath. Pain radiated from every wound, each step making his body scream in protest.
The chittering and growls outside were distant now, but he knew it was only a matter of time before the monsters found them again. He looked around at the destroyed shop: tables overturned, broken chairs scattered like splinters, and a faint smell of smoke and spilled salsa lingering in the air.
It wasn't safe. Not even close. But it was a moment of reprieve. A fragile bubble where they could rest, patch themselves up, and plan the next move.
Gale wrapped his remaining bandages around his wounds as best he could, the antiseptic burning with each touch. Ryan clung to him silently, eyes wide, trying to be brave.
"We made it… for now," Gale whispered, voice hoarse. "We rest here… then we move again."
He glanced out the shattered front window, alert, listening. The monsters were still out there. They wouldn't stop. Not until they had them both.
But inside the ruined taco shop, for the first time since the chaos began, Gale and Ryan could breathe. Just a little.
And that brief, fragile moment was all they had
Gale sank against the counter, trying to catch his breath. His arms and legs burned, cuts stinging, blood seeping through the bandages. Ryan huddled beside him, silent, small hands gripping the blanket.
As he wiped sweat and blood from his brow, a faint glow appeared in the air before him.
[Quest Update]
Title:Kobold Hunt – Thief of the VoidProgress: 2/5 kobolds killedObjective: Kill 5 koboldsReward: Obtain a Kobold Skill (Class-based)
Gale's stomach sank. Only two down… three more. And with the monsters still prowling outside, every second of delay increased the danger.
Three more… we need to finish this. But Ryan… His chest tightened at the thought. I can't risk him. Not again.
He glanced at Ryan, small and trembling against the counter, eyes wide but trusting him completely. Gale's grip on his dagger tightened. Pain flared from his wounds with every heartbeat, but the quest reminded him: the monsters wouldn't wait.
He muttered under his breath, "We can do this… we have to… we survive, then we finish the quest."
The chittering and growls outside grew louder, as if mocking him. Each scrape of claws, each low growl of the dire wolf, reminded him that hesitation would be fatal.
Gale stood, dragging Ryan to his feet. Blood trickled down his arms and legs, vision blurred from exhaustion and pain, but he forced himself forward.
Three more kobolds… we find them, we take their skills… and we survive.
He tightened his grip on the dagger, feeling the hum of Vine Warp ready in his hands. Only two vines at a time—but enough to give them a fighting chance.
Gale whispered to Ryan, voice low but firm, "Stay close. I've got you. We finish this… and then we run."
Outside, the hunt continued. Inside, Gale prepared to step back into the chaos, every wound and every ounce of fatigue a reminder that failure was not an option.
The door of the ruined taco shop creaked, and Gale's head snapped toward it. Two kobolds skittered in, claws scraping the floor, teeth bared, eyes glinting with malice.
Ryan shrank back, clutching the blanket, but Gale's grip tightened on his dagger. Pain flared from every cut, every step still raw from the previous escape, but he forced himself to stand.
No hesitation. I can't hesitate.
The kobolds charged simultaneously. Gale lashed out with a vine, wrapping it around one kobold's legs. It yelped and toppled, but the vine at FFF- rank was weak; the creature struggled, forcing him to swing his dagger to keep it restrained.
The second kobold lunged at him from the side. Gale twisted, letting the first vine pull the first kobold backward into a wall while he thrust his dagger forward, slicing across the second kobold's shoulder. Pain seared through his arms from the effort, but he forced himself to keep control of the vines.
He experimented, quickly realizing he could coordinate the vines with his dagger strikes. One vine pinned a limb, then the dagger finished the attack. The second vine he could use to grab or pull the kobold into the environment—overturned tables, debris, counters—using the surroundings to his advantage.
Ryan crouched behind a counter, silent but alert. Gale barked instructions, not taking his eyes off the two creatures. "Stay low, don't move! I've got this!"
Sweat, blood, and adrenaline burned through him. The fight was a blur: vines snapping, daggers stabbing, kobolds screeching and clawing, Gale's body screaming in pain. Each movement was precise, every strike calculated, even as exhaustion threatened to overwhelm him.
Finally, the last kobold collapsed, twitching and defeated. Gale staggered back, chest heaving, blood dripping down his arms and legs, eyes cloudy with pain and adrenaline.
He glanced at Ryan. The boy was wide-eyed, trembling, but unharmed.
Gale sank to the floor, gripping his dagger, letting the reality of survival wash over him. Then the glowing notification appeared again:
[Points Earned: 4]
He opened his status window, heart still racing.
Total Points: 5
1 from the previous regression
4 from this fight
Gale's vision blurred, pain still searing, but a small spark of satisfaction flickered. Each point was another chance to grow stronger, to keep Ryan safe, to survive this nightmare.
He slumped against the counter, breathing heavily, one hand still clutching the dagger, the other wrapping around Ryan's shoulder. The battle was over—for now—but the hunt would not stop.
Five points. Five chances. I won't waste them. Not ever.
Gale sank against the counter, his body screaming in pain. Every cut and gash throbbed, every movement a reminder that survival had a price. Ryan sat close, silent, gripping the blanket, eyes wide but trusting him completely.
He opened his status window again, staring at the five points glowing softly in the corner.
Five points… five chances to make this easier, to make me stronger. But what do I need most?
His mind ran through possibilities:
Durability — to take more hits, survive longer, especially with injuries piling up.
Strength — to make his dagger strikes hit harder, maybe finish fights faster.
Speed — to move faster, dodge attacks, or sprint with Ryan through chaos.
Mana — maybe useful for Vine Warp, to extend range or control.
He flexed his arms, wincing as pain shot through his legs. Every thought circled back to Ryan. If I'm stronger, he's safer.
Finally, Gale decided:
Durability +2 — he needed to survive more than he needed flashy power.
Vine Warp mastery +1 — even with two vines, a little more control could make a life-or-death difference.
Strength +1 — dagger strikes had to count. Every blow needed to hurt enough to stop monsters before they reached him or Ryan.
The points spent, the soft glow faded from the window. Gale felt a faint, almost imperceptible surge—like his body was slightly less fragile, the vines slightly more responsive to his thoughts, his strikes a little more deadly.
Outside, the chittering and growls continued, closer now, probing. The monsters hadn't given up. Every scrap of silence from the taco shop was temporary.
Gale shifted, pressing himself closer to Ryan. "We can't stay here long. We rest, patch up, then move. Okay?"
Ryan nodded, still trembling, but trusting.
Gale's eyes scanned the broken windows, the shattered walls. Every shadow could hide danger. Every sound could be the hunt resuming.
He tightened his grip on his dagger, feeling the faint pull of Vine Warp at his fingertips. We survive. Then we fight. Every point counts.
And with that resolve, he began preparing a plan to leave the taco shop safely, knowing the monsters outside wouldn't wait, and the next wave of danger could hit at any moment.
[Vine Warp upgraded: Rank FFF]Skill Limit: 2 vines at a timeEffect: Vines are now sturdier and more responsive, able to lift heavier objects and restrain enemies more effectively.
Gale flexed his fingers experimentally. The vines responded instantly, twisting, extending, and retracting at his will. Where before they had struggled against a kobold's resistance, now they felt solid, reliable.
Good… this is going to save us.
Ryan shifted, still trembling. Gale pressed the blanket tighter around him, whispering, "Stay close. This might hurt, but we can handle it."
The chittering and growls outside reminded him that the monsters weren't waiting. The dire wolf's low growl rumbled from down the street, and the sharp clatter of kobold claws scraping pavement made his pulse spike.
Gale adjusted the vines, looping one around a fallen chair, the other coiling around a broken table leg. He tested their strength by yanking lightly—both held firm, ready to restrain or pull enemies at a moment's notice.
Two vines… FFF rank… I can do this. I can protect Ryan.
He tightened his grip on his dagger, felt the familiar sting of his bloodied arms and legs, and whispered, "Time to move. And this time… we don't stop until we're out of this street alive."
Ryan nodded silently, holding on tight as Gale prepared to leave the ruined taco shop, vines humming faintly like silent guardians, ready to snap into action the moment danger arrived.
Gale dragged himself and Ryan onto the rooftop, chest heaving, blood still dripping from his cuts. The boy clung tightly to the blanket, trembling silently. Gale pressed him against his side, whispering, "Stay close. Don't look down."
But there was no hiding from the devastation below. The city he had known yesterday was gone. Streets were strewn with rubble, abandoned cars smashed into walls, and fires flickered in shattered apartments. Corpses littered the streets—men, women, even children—torn apart or mauled by unknown predators. Blood coated the pavement in slick rivers, pooling into alleys and gutters.
Some bodies were partially devoured, limbs missing, faces frozen in terror. The stench of death hung thick in the air, mixed with smoke and burning metal.
Gale's stomach churned, bile rising, but he forced himself to stay upright. His eyes scanned the horizon, catching movement: shadows darting through ruins, creatures skittering between debris, and the occasional glint of claws in the dim morning light.
Ryan whimpered quietly, burying his face in the blanket. Gale rested a hand on his shoulder, feeling the boy tremble. "It's… it's not safe down there," he said, voice tight. "We stay here. We stay up here."
The rooftop gave them a precarious sense of security, but the carnage below was a constant, terrifying reminder of what awaited if they fell. Broken streets, shredded bodies, pools of blood—it all screamed that the world had turned into a slaughterhouse overnight.
Gale tightened his grip on his dagger, eyes flicking to the broken buildings nearby. Smoke drifted lazily across the city, and distant screams pierced the air intermittently, echoes of suffering he could almost feel in his bones.
We can't go down there. Not yet… He whispered to himself, voice hoarse. We survive up here. We rest. And then… we figure out a way through the nightmare.
Ryan pressed closer, and Gale wrapped the blanket tighter around him, blocking out as much as he could from the horror below. Every twitching shadow, every distant chitter or growl reminded him that even up here, they were not safe—but for now, the rooftop was their refuge.
And from this vantage point, the full scale of the destruction was undeniable: a city once alive, now reduced to death, blood, and chaos.
rewrote most the chapters with the help of ai for fight and better quality just rewrote my my wording to make it more appealing let me know what you think