He felt a bit more at ease, now that he was in a more protective state than before. Acquiring good gear was crucial, as it was in any game. Especially in Rings of Alkhen, attacks didn't deal damage based on the total Armor or Magic Resistance, but rather on the value of the equipment in the body part of the attack hit.
This made it essential for all equipment to be of the best possible quality. For instance, sacrificing Leggings to equip a good Gauntlet could mean that a hit to the legs would have severe consequences.
After crossing the ruined stone road of the Crescent Meadows, which led him to a hillside with a winding path, he stood before an obelisk that towered at the edge of the cliff.
Ah, one of these things again. Livinius shielded his eyes with his hand and gazed at the standing stone.
These obelisks could be found throughout the lands of the Rings of Alkhen. The majority of them were engraved with scenes depicting the ancient peoples' campaign to reach the power of the gods by uniting and marching toward Alkhen Castle, as well as their destructive war with the Demi-Gods.
In the remaining minority, the speeches, stories, and wills of the ancient heroes were inscribed.
The carvings depicted a hurricane that swallowed the sky, descending upon a nine-headed hydra. The valley beneath the monstrous creature's feet was shattered, covered with crumbled and melted rock.
Amidst all this chaos, a warrior astride a massive eagle aimed a blazing red spear at the hydra. The background was barely visible due to wear and tear, but it seemed that his comrades were following him.
"I had read in one of the obelisks I came across in the past that the fire of destruction consumed not just the Alkhen Rings, but all the realms," Livinius scratched his chin. "This battle might have happened in this region long ago, who knows?"
He found it absurd that he couldn't just say, "this is all just part of a game, not real history."
No matter how much he thought about it, something felt deeply wrong—and his logic simply couldn't piece it together.
Livinius tried to motivate himself by reminding himself that he should feel lucky, as long as he hadn't fallen into the infinite darkness of death.
After descending a winding path, he quickly crossed the small plain and reached the Terrera Woods. Dense, tall trees were spread across a series of low hills and between them.
The gloomy ambiance of the woods was evident even outside.
As Livinius approached the woods cautiously, he made sure not to overlook any detail in his surroundings.
As he got closer, the number of blackened bones increased, and the heavy stench of carrion in the air became sharper.
Three floating swords materialized around him.
From this point onward, he had to be prepared for any sudden attack. Additionally, as there might be dangers beyond his current understanding, he needed to keep the path he was following clearly in mind. Someone who didn't know how to escape in Rings of Alkhen was always at risk of losing everything at any moment.
Within the woods, the sunlight's brightness and warmth were veiled. The wind, winding through the leaves of the trees, whispered irritatingly in his ears like a bothersome murmur.
The crack of a bone shard beneath his foot echoed in the eerie silence, making him wince and freeze in place.
His target was Tragal, a Chieftain. This meant that the numerous minions protecting it were also nearby. His primary goal was not to chase a confrontation but to observe and devise a plan within that context.
He continued to proceed inward, carefully watching his steps.
Hm? What's that? Livinius stared intently at a strange-looking cluster of intertwined trees he had spotted.
As he approached, the oddity in the bark of the trees immediately caught his eye. On their dark brown trunks, a pattern of partially whitish crystallization—and bone-like corruption—was spreading. A foul-smelling, slimy substance was oozing from the large hollows of their trunks.
As he ventured further in, he noticed that these trees increased. Moreover, almost all of them had entirely turned to bone. Their pitch-black leaves stood in stark contrast to their whitish-gray trunks.
A sudden flapping of wings nearby made him tense up and push all his senses to the limit.
Muffled growls rising from several different spots shattered the sharp silence of the woods.
Livinius caught sight of a sudden blur approaching from his right.
One of the long swords whistled through the air and embedded itself into one of the bone trees, pinning a vulture through the chest. It was living its final moments—its crooked neck drooped downward, and the gleam in its small crimson eyes faded.
[You've slain an Abyssborn, the Fledgling Sarian Vulture!]
[You gained 5 EXP!]
Is this foul-smelling bastard, almost the size of a child, really just an immature vulture?
Livinius sighed and shook his head. If so, then how big was a fully grown one—let alone the Chieftain?
As far as I know, the Abyss lies at the bottom of the Infinite Chasm beyond the Rings of Alkhen. This means these creatures—just like the other Abyssborn—must've come through one of those vile Abyss Gates.
The Abyssborn were creatures that carried the fragments of the most ancient, malevolent, and terrifying curse. They were bearers of Corruption through their Abyssal Darkness, and the effects and nature of their vile powers varied greatly. However, the most common aspect of Corruption is the distortion of the soul, driving the afflicted toward Madness through a path of agony.
A sudden, nearby screech caused a shock to run down his spine, like an electric current.
With the growing sound of wings approaching, Livinius immediately began running backward without a second thought. At that moment, half a dozen vultures, their wingspans nearly four meters wide, dove between the trees like falcons, piercing through the canopy of leaves.
"Dammit!" Livinius cursed as he realized that his escape route was blocked. He immediately changed direction, unsure of where he was heading.
Between the bone trees, the shadows deepened, and the weight of the air grew heavier. The sunlight filtering through the leaves slowly gave way to the glimmer of strange insect shells and eccentric plants.
Livinius could hear the shrill cries of vultures behind him and the sound of cracking trees as they crashed into them. Grinding his teeth, he increased his speed; if he had any hope of standing his ground, it depended on finding a space wide enough to use his swords freely.
Unfortunately, he couldn't spot any space. Contrary to what he had hoped, the density of the bone trees seemed to be increasing. Even worse, he could hear more wingbeats coming toward him from nearby.
The vultures were surrounding him.
Livinius weaved around the bone-hardened trees, narrowly avoiding several vulture attacks that swooped down along his path.
My Stamina is about to drop below 3!
He spat out the saliva building in his throat, eyes slightly blurring as he desperately scanned for a clear space—somewhere open enough to give him proper room to fight.
About a hundred meters ahead, flickering shadows and flames caught his eye.
He didn't have the luxury to judge what was happening there—he darted in that direction.
He rushed past the charred bone trees—smoke still rising from them—like the wind. A stench like melted plastic mixed with rotten eggs burned his throat.
The canopies formed by the entangled leaves of the trees had partially caught fire. At first glance, it looked like a dance of giant fireflies, but the suffocating heat they radiated quickly shattered that illusion.
Livinius realized the ground beneath him was growing so hot it began to burn his feet through his boots. Everything around him—grass, flowers, soil, weeds, and trees—had turned into a mass of pure soot.
Directly ahead, at the base of the hillside, a domed entrance had been revealed as the smoldering grass parted. From the thick black smoke and intense heat flowing outward, he could tell this point was the source of the small-scale fire.
Coughing, he stepped through the narrow entrance and braced himself for the vultures closing in behind him.
This entrance is not wide enough to let two of them pass—this position will let me fight them one-on-one. Livinius glared at the three vultures that entered his field of vision. It was the first time he got a proper look at them.
The vultures flapped their black-and-white wings as if trying to clear away the heat and smoke. They drenched the smoldering ground with a foul-smelling purplish liquid dripping from their hooked beaks.
Livinius licked his lips through ragged breaths and raised his swords toward his enemies.
The disgusting beasts squirmed restlessly for a while, tearing at their own feathers with their sharp beaks. It seemed they were struggling to decide how to attack.
The one in the front fixed its red eyes onto Livinius, fully spreading its wings and flapping them a few times before suddenly spitting at him.