In a dreamy haze, Damon perceived a forest through the consciousness field.
The trees loomed above, leaves covered in pure white snow whilst a crescent moon bathed their tips in a pale light.
In one area of this winter land, shattered and aged stones littered the surroundings of a partially fallen shrine that dwarfed any he had seen in books. Half of its clay roof tiles laid cracked and battered. Withered and frost ridden support beams stood slanted from a concrete platform, scarcely holding up what remained.
At this moment a dull ache ran through Damon's feet from chilled ground. His consciousness stirred awake and his eyes snapped open instantly.
His vision blurred for few seconds as he was struck by a throbbing pain that flooded his skull. As if he had bitten down on ice the cold spread across the roof of his mouth.
"What is this place?" Damon groaned, rubbing his forehead. His brows creased together as he turned around in a fluster and looked around him.
Filled confusion, he discovered the structures before his eyes were far different from the brownish red brick and wood architecture he regularly saw at Redhill. Despite the damages, he could not shake a strange sense of familiarity.
'T-this places looks resembles one of those artworks the librarians always staring at…'
Subconsciously Damon shifted his gaze to the crooked signboard that hung from one of the wooden pillars and narrowed his eyes.
He was unable to derive any meaning from symbols carved into its surface. But he had certainly seen them before thanks to Mr Ying's occasional paintings.
The Librarian was known to have an unorthodox teaching style.
As someone who descended from a long line of nomadic eastern tribes, he regularly preached the value of personal studies over the restriction of a formal classroom. The man always strived to ensure all the children of Redhill had reasonable amount of knowledge on any cultures or landscapes he had personally explored.
'The voice said something about a dimensional shift. Was I somehow sent to Mr Ying's home country…?' Damon muttered to himself, exhaling a wisp of white.
'Maybe this place is lost ruin…?'
While apprehensive he could not retrain his curiosity. He decided to scope out the parameter with light steps. He carefully avoided the damaged path leading up to main structure and a pair of eerie stone cat painted red and white…
Their slanted eyes, solid and unmoving betrayed lifelike emotions as though they were laughing at his predicament.
'These things can't be house decorations…right?'
Damon felt his heart skipped a few beats. He instinctively quickened his steps in an attempt to widen the distance between him and temple statues.
If not for the fact that he was afraid to approach, he would have definitely smashed the heads instead.
Tearing with regret, he turned a corner by a shabby stall covered in white and moved towards a damaged well. Suddenly his eyes fell on a patch of snow, soaked in a dark green colour.
Immediately after the wind carried a smell of rotten eggs towards his face.
"Is that… Blood?" Damon whispered, wrinkling his nose. Though it was not human it looked fresh, as if it had only bled into the cold canvas minutes prior!
Hunching his back, he took another breath and surveyed the area for a few seconds. Once he confirmed there were no other creatures lurking nearby, he inched around to get a closer look.
As he rounded the well, the source of the stain finally revealed itself.
On a layer of snow laid the mutilated carcass of a giant insect.
The creature was nearly the size of a human child. Its segmented body the unnatural combination of a hornet and a praying mantis. Blue icicles covered most of its frame, though large portions had been shattered apart. The dark green fluid seeped from jagged cracks that ran across it's shell and dripped into snow.
The sight filled, Damon with disgust but at this point the smell had become even more unbearable.
"Urgh..." He raised a hand to cover his mouth and nose, resisting the urge to empty his stomach. A second later, a sigh escaped his whitening lips, and he recalled something.
'Guess it was a good thing I didn't eat breakfast...'
For a few moments Damon simply stared with a conflicted expression. Despite his discomfort from the biting cold, curiosity gradually won over.
He swept the surroundings again with his eyes and ears then crouched beside the corpse. He had to know how the creature had been slain.
Damon carefully reached out, placing a hand against the blue shell and tested its durability. His fingers traced one of the cracks before he then knocked against the exoskeleton a few times.
Tonk.! Tonk…!
The sound reminded him of striking metal.
'This has to be a mutated beast.' Damon murmured.
Naturally there was no way an ordinary animal possessed armour this tough.
The books within Redhill described mutated beasts as creatures altered by toxic radiation spreading across different land masses and the sky territories over generations. Historically records and Journal testimonies mentioned they possessed abilities or physical traits that greatly exceeded normal wildlife.
'Iv'e never seen one personally, but this thing fits the description…' Damon shook his head wearily. Steeling himself, he grabbed hold of the creature's upper body and began to lift.
The snow beneath the carcass shifted like sand.
After getting the creature on its other side, his eyes then lit up as he spotted something.
One of the creature's raptorial forearms.
The limb curved inward like a farming sickle, a wicked blade running along its edge.
"Now that's useful." Damon's mouth instantly formed a satisfied grin.
Without hesitation, he grabbed the appendage near its base and pulled. The muscles in his shivering arms screamed.
Yet the forearm did not budge!
Seeing this, Damon's brow furrowed. Unwilling to quit so easily, he adjusted his grip, dug his heels into the snow, and pulled again. The limb shifted slightly but remained attached, joints creaking like a rusted hinge.
Two minutes quickly flew by as his arms trembled, pulling and twisted even harder. His fingers ached from gripping the sand paper like surface of it's shell.
"... Seriously!?" Damon glared at dead insect as drew heaving breaths. For something that had already been ripped apart, it was proving surprisingly stubborn.
With an annoyed grunt, he climbed onto the carcass and planted one foot against its thorax. Following this he wrapped both hands around the limb and pulled again.
Crk!
The corpse creaked under his weight.
Green fluid bled into the snow as something shook inside
However, Damon did his best to ignore it.
"Just...break already, you stupid bug!"
As he leaned back with all his weight a sharp crack echoed through the ruins.
The forearm tore free soon after, and he tumbled backward before quickly regaining his footing. A moment later, satisfaction appeared on his face and he raised his arms above his head triumphantly, tightening his grip on the limb.
In his excitement he had forgotten to keep his voice low.
Damon's expression darkened a second later. He nervously looked around before letting a sigh. "I should just finish up and head somewhere else..."
Although he obtained a half decent weapon, he did not want to garner the attention of who or what was powerful enough to ignore the creature's defences entirely.
As Damon took one last glance, his gaze drifted beyond the edges of the cracks, and he cupped his chin thoughtfully.
Without counting the one he had just taken, it's other five limbs had been bitten off at the joints and chunks of the shell were gone exposing mangled organs that glistened beneath the moonlight.
Surprisingly, Damon did not feel the same revulsion as before. Instead, a baffling sense of déjà vu arose in heart as he felt the hair on the back of neck stand.
At that moment, he noticed a large shadow on ground, looming over him from the dim moon light above.
"What is.." Fear gripped Damon's heart as he raised his gaze and discerned the silhouette.
There, atop the temple's partially demolished roof, a massive tiger stood on all fours, ripped muscles and black stripes lining its body.
Its fur was as white the ground around them and a pair of long canines extended down from its upper jaw, soaked in a viscous green fluid.
Damon's pupils dilated as he stared at the beast's form.
But it was at that moment that they both locked eyes