"Hand me the box." Carnage stretches out his hands, receiving confused stares from the sinners. "I'll be able to help."
"Do you harbor some type of unsealing ability?" Carnage doesn't answer, allowing Nullen to answer himself with what he already knows from his persona's title and the imprint on his hands alone. "Let him have it."
"Is there something I'm not getting?" Artticus ponders out loud.
Evrad for a second lingers mid-motion as he reaches over to him, an unseen battle raging on in his mind, before letting it fall into Carnage's palms, Nullen letting out a sigh of relief as he does.
In Carnage's palms, the black box hums, prickling the tips of his fingers and resonating with the imprint.
<<
____________________
Item: The black box
Status: Sealed
Power level: 50
___________________
'Just enough...'
He squeezes his eyes shut, inwardly reaching for the power stored at the center of his soul; he didn't see wune as expected, only a darkness accompanied by a pressure that seeps into his soul, twisting until it feels no longer his own, pulling him into a place he barely recognizes as his inner soul.
What once should have been a refuge of light carried no warmth. The soul of a god, a place of serenity, dominion, and a regenerative place for their power, had become nothing more than a wasteland, a chamber left to rot in the hands of the void.
'Where is it—'
He searches, then pauses, sensing it.
'There.'
Taking a few steps through the darkness, it emerges, a golden orb of ever-growing energy, bound by heavenly restrictions, chains, and the tiny blades of godwakes surrounding it; a small line of energy loosens from its captivity, gliding its way to him.
'There you are... My power... come to me.'
Extending his arms, he reaches for the power he had taken eons to cultivate, and it accepts him, linking with the key tattoo formed by one of the blades of godwake, it morphs into a vibrant shade of red.
"Argh!" He coughs, vomiting blood as the marking on his hand glimmers into existence.
"Carnage!" They all call out, and he brushes them off.
'This is the drawback. A vessel like this can't withstand divine energy.'
"Leave me." Carnage pants as a wave of agony grips his soul.
'Now, connect.'
From the activation of the key, he imbues the box with its energy.
<<< Unsealing…>>>
'That's it.'
Light bled from the edges of the imprint, his hand twitching with each pulse, threatening to tear it apart from within.
<<
「Unsealing completed! 」
The black box cracks open.
"He did it," Artticus whispers, dumbfounded, while Flors is already at his side, worrying about whether he feels pain
"I did it." He staggers, managing to stay upright, dragging his gaze to what's inside.
In different fonts and colors, the letters H, E, and R lay equally spaced within it.
"We found the first three!" Artticus grinned, holding his hands up; the group didn't respond. With a shrug, he smacked his own palms. "Fine. Self-five."
"We just need to find the rest," Heron says.
"Heron!" Flor pivots. "Don't you recall hearing the ticking of a clock when we were inside the church?"
Heron's eyes flicker with recognition. "I don't know what a clock is, but I did hear something weird."
"And for us it must be the mold." Nullen acknowledges.
"Yeah," Carnage affirms.
"How about we head to the church first, then the tavern?" Heron suggests.
They're about to agree when two low screeches cut through the air in the distance, unnatural and wet-sounding, yet pitched high and low as if trying to find the right tone, until they concluded, mimicking the sound of both a human woman and man.
The sinners didn't have to look; they already knew what they were.
'Skinwalkers.'
A few fleeting heartbeats pass, paired with rapid breaths as dread and fear collide into something disgusting.
"There are two of them." Nulled murmurs, side-eyeing the two hunched creatures in the distance.
"Don't move—" Heron begins, but Artticus is already darting in the other direction.
The moment the creatures sense they've been spotted, they lunge forward, barreling towards them.
"Run!" Heron screams into the air, and they collectively swirl, legs pumping, hearts hammering as the forest seems to close in around them.
As the sinners maneuver around the winding trees, branches claw at their faces and clothes, roots threaten to trip them, and the skinwalkers follow.
Artticus glances behind. "Oh great heavens!"
He cries, not by the fact that most of them are mad he suddenly ran off without warning but by the fact that they're following him with the skinwalkers not too far behind.
"Why are you bringing them here! Can't you both take them on!" Artticus huffs. "You already took down one easily!"
'We're dealing with two of them, not one.'
Carnage peers behind.
「Demonic beast grade: D (Tormented)」
「Power level: 100」
「Demonic beast grade: D (Tormented)」
「Power level: 80」
'One has already reached the required power level, and we needed two people to defeat it.'
"I have a plan!" Nullen interrupts his thoughts. "Carnage and Evrad, you go to the right side, the lane of the power level one hundred beast." Nullen orders. "Heron, Flor, and Artticus left. Then we split!"
"What, are you crazy?!" Flor retorts, confused.
"Trust me!" He pleads, shifting to the right.
With deep thought, everyone complies, moving to their respective sides.
"What now?" Heron inquires.
"You guys should have a clear route to the village; all you need to do is make a turn to the left at exactly 20 feet. We'll find a way to you," he explains hurriedly. "Now… split!"
They obey, hoping the skinwalkers split their attention. It works; the higher of the two lopes after their group.
"I hope you have a plan!" Evrad says.
"Yes."
"Then, please do explain," Carnage says, summoning his sword from the inventory.
"Power levels, both for monsters and our personas, show whether you're strong enough to defeat or challenge a certain category of demonic beasts."
Words spill from him carefully, each one chosen to make sense of the chaos.
"Nullen's power level as Protector is eighty, which is enough to take on the lower-level skinwalker by himself. You're at seventy, and with Evrad's help, you should be able to handle the higher-level one."
'I understand but still, I have one question.'
"Then why did you split the group? We could have taken them on separately while still being grouped."
"I have my reasons." He says ominously. "It'll all be revealed after."
"I see." Carnage stops in a slide, facing the approaching skinwalker. "Since we only have one weapon, we'll have to share." He says to Evrad. "Copy as best as you can."
"Got it." He stops at his side.
The skinwalker crashes through the trees, its eyes gleaming like molten silver, fixed on them with a predator's hunger. Carnage shifts his stance, the blade gripped in his right hand.
"On my mark," he mutters.
Seconds pass, and it closes the space between them, coming in with a screech as claws hooked like scythes slice for Carnage's throat.
'Now.'
Carnage meets it with a diagonal slash; the impact shudders through his arms, forcing him back a step. He needed to regain his footing, so he pushes forward, pouring all his strength, launching the creature back.
"Go!" He barks, spinning the hilt towards Evrad.
Evrad grabs the sword mid-spin and, without hesitation, slashes upward. The form and movement match his own but are tweaked to fit the slash. The skinwalker jerks back, narrowly avoiding the strike, then it lunges again, this time faster.
Evrad drops low, catching its ankle with a sweep. Carnage uses the momentum, pivoting around Evrad, snatching the sword, and driving the point toward its exposed side.
'Perfect hit.'
The creature howls in pain, recoiling back as blood spills.
"Push!" Carnage growls.
They both rush forward, and the skinwalker notices and slashes its leg again. Evrad ducks under the strike, ripping the sword from Carnage's hands as he passes.
He drives the blade upward, aiming for the chest, but the skinwalker catches the flat of the blade with both claws, forcing him into a deadlock. Its stench of rotting meat and cold iron fills his lungs.
"Now!"
Carnage slams into the creature's side, knocking it just enough for Evrad to wrench the blade free. He shoves the hilt toward Carnage again.
'We're close.'
"Let's finish it."
Carnage nods.
Taking the weapon, his eyes hardened. In one swift motion, he spins, dragging the blade in a full arc. The skinwalker shrieks as the steel bites deep into its neck, black ichor spraying across the ground.
As the battle rages, Carnage and Evrad move like extensions of one another, swapping the blade with practiced precision. Each strike, each pivot, each feint was executed without thought. The skinwalker thrashes, snapping claws and teeth, but they press forward, determined to end it.
Finally, the moment arrives, the creature falters, its chest exposed, ragged breaths filling the air. Evrad grips the hilt, muscles coiled, ready to drive the blade home. But as he raises it, his momentum falters. His eyes flick to the skinwalker's gaze.
'Not now!'
Carnage steps in before it can recover, grabbing the sword mid-swing and driving it straight through the creature's heart. Blood explodes forth like a volcano, landing on both of them, its body going limp.
Evrad stands wide-eyed, staring on as Carnage rips his blade from the creature's body, emotion unapparent.
「Skinwalker defeated!!」
「4/6 」
「Demonic core stored in inventory!」
'Looks like Nullen was correct.'
Carnage is about to thank Evrad when something catches his eye, shimmering faintly.
"Thanks for your contribution." Nullen says grimly, his shard of glass pressed against the neck of Evrad as he slices it open.