Sezel's ragged breath steadied for a fleeting moment. But relaxation was a luxury for people who weren't currently using a murder monster as a backrest.
The Night Crawler Sezel had crashed into was not in the mood for a casual chat.
It roared, a sound that vibrated through Sezel's bones. A foolish move, really. Why alert your prey? Unless, of course, you were so confident in your superiority that the prey's terror was simply part of the meal.
Fuck.
He twisted his neck, heart lurching as he came face-to-face with a gaping maw and a tongue flickering between dagger-like teeth. He scrambled away on hands and knees, clawing at the dirt like the desperate rat he was.
Why can't anything good ever happen to me? The thought was a familiar, bitter friend. The slums had taught him to endure, to find a sliver of life in the jaws of despair. But this realm... this realm was a different kind of cruel.
He staggered to his feet, shoving forward, his dislocated arm dangling like a broken marionette. But the beast pursued with relentless hunger.
Sezel, in a desperate, half-baked attempt to prove his own theory, grabbed a broken branch and hurled it toward the group of crawlers feasting on Beardy's remains.
He expected the Night Crawler behind him to follow the sound. It didn't.
It stopped for a fraction of a second, its gaze flicking toward the noise, but it quickly determined that the thin, terrified piece of meat running in front of it was a much more appealing prospect.
You gotta be kidding, why the hell is this thing still following me?
He ran, his lungs burning, his legs screaming in protest. The Night Crawler, with its seemingly infinite stamina, closed the distance with terrifying ease. Sezel was exhausted, his body running on fumes after three days of starvation and the adrenaline-fueled chaos of the last hour.
Each gasp was a knife in his chest, but he kept moving. Until, of course, fate—that cruel, vindictive bitch decided he had had enough fun.
His foot caught on a root, and he went down, his face meeting the earth with a sickening thud.
He tried to rise, but his muscles, stretched thin and frayed, refused to obey. Rolling onto his back, he faced the advancing beast, death's shadow finally catching up.
Is this it, then? To die in this godforsaken place, with nothing to my name but a collection of bad memories?
His gaze darted, seeking the others. Rilli was absent from his blurred vision—dead, hidden, or beyond his sight, he didn't knew.
The leader clung to his precarious perch atop a trembling tree, its bark splintering under the relentless claws of two Night Crawlers.
Arty sprawled on the ground, his blade a fragile barrier against a beast's snapping jaws, his face a mask of desperation as he fought to hold death at bay.
Beardy's corpse lay exposed in the violet glow, Sezel could see the mangled body now, chewed and shredded completely, his big body now laid in a pool of crimson blood, just a piece of flesh for the spirit beasts to enjoy.
Where is his strength now? did it help him keep alive? Guilt flickered, for the relief that stirred within him—another's death had bought him moments, however fleeting.
Sezel's thoughts were a chaotic storm. He was about to die, and there was nothing he could do about it. He looked up at the beast, at its hungry red eyes, at the amalgam of blood and saliva dripping from its maw.
He gulped. His mind, however, refused to surrender. His good hand groped blindly, and by some twist of fortune, his fingers brushed against cold, familiar steel. Rilli's discarded dagger.
He clutched it hard and waited. Every moment felt like an eternity, the beast roared once announcing its victory then widened its maw, aiming its jagged teeth at Sezel, without further delay it moved.
SLASH!
At the last possible moment, Sezel drove the dagger into the beast's flickering tongue, severing it. Black blood gushed as the creature screamed, a sound of pure, unadulterated agony. The other Night Crawlers paused, their crimson gazes locking onto their wounded comrade.
Sezel seized the moment, striking again, aiming for a forelimb, but the blade recoiled against the impervious hide, his frail strength futile against its unnatural resilience.
Shit. I'm dead. He remembered a crucial, inconvenient fact: Spirit Beasts could only be truly harmed by Spirit Energy.
That was the primary reason why even though they had two awakened in their group they couldn't hope to win, because a Rank 1 awakened can only use spirit energy inside of his body to enhance it, and not exclude it out.
The Spirit beast turned towards Sezel once again, its red eyes now burning with something close to rage or anger, Sezel's breath hitched under the cruel gaze. He lid his eyes shut bracing his fate that he can't get out of the situation.
The beast turned back to him, its red eyes burning with a rage that was almost personal. Sezel's breath hitched. He closed his eyes, bracing for the inevitable.
"Please," he whispered, hating the word, hating the weakness it represented. "Someone help."
The teeth never came. Instead, a jet of hot liquid splattered across his face. A heavy thud shook the earth beside him.
What...?
He forced his eyes open, his vision blurred by the sting of black blood. The Night Crawler's severed head lay beside him, its crimson eyes dimming. Its headless body slumped to the ground, the forest's silence swallowing its final roar.
Wiping the blood from his face, he strained to glimpse his savior, his heart pounding with a question that clawed at his mind.
Who... who in this godless nightmare just saved my life?