It had been three days since he had last eaten. It wasn't anything special, just some chicken he had been able to find whilst scavenging through a convenience store.
It had looked disgusting and tasted even worse.
As an Ascended, the meat didn't bring him any harm. But it did make him re-evaluate his life choices.
Either way, he had been happy with the meal. Unlike normal mundane people, Ascended could go for nearly half a year without any food. The only reason they would ever eat would be to give their body sustenance.
Otherwise, they would become as physically diminished as Artorias.
There was also their healing factor to consider. Without any nourishment to provide the energy necessary to mend wounds, one of two things would happen.
The healing factor would either shut down, or it would begin to devour the body itself, leaving the Ascended as frail and weakened as Artorias currently was.
There was a reason after all, why Artorias had been suffering from a headache for so long.
Many Ascended forget the pain which a headache provides. Their healing factor spread through their entire body to mend wounds simultaneously.
But some, like Artorias, learned to manipulate their healing factor, moving it and forcing it to focus on a singular injury rather than all of them at once.
It wasn't an uncommon technique, and one that got more prominent the higher up the ascension ladder you went. But for someone like him?
At the very bottom of that ladder?
It was practically unheard off.
The only reason he had been able to learn it was because he had spent weeks trying to survive in the ruins of this city. His new, temporary life had required him to adapt after all, and if he didn't, then he would simply be met with death.
It was the reason why the wounds inflicted by the Corvus Spawn had all but healed within the first two hours of their fight ending.
But it was also the reason why he was so tired, and why his body was in so much pain.
Their healing factors may have worked quicker and required only half the energy that a mundane person would need. But right now, his body simply didn't have the required nutrients to keep up.
Which meant he would either need to forcefully stop his healing factor from working, and leave his arm crippled until he found some food, or risk falling asleep and never waking up.
With an injury as bad as his arm, and the various other wounds littering his body, sleep would all but be a death sentence for him.
He had control over his healing factor, but he was still inexperienced with it. Falling asleep would only lead to his body physically devouring itself.
That was also without mentioning the current state of his arm. It didn't leave him with very many options.
Knowing all of this, he only had one real choice left.
He had to become the hunter.
Having diverted his healing factor away from his arm, he had instead focused on his lesser injuries. His already exhausted body had protested and nearly left him catatonic.
The only thing that had kept him awake was pure, sheer force of will. When they were all finished healing, and he had countless more scars, he finally shut the healing factor off.
There had been two hours left before night fell. So, he had gotten himself comfortable in the corner of a room of an apartment complex he had found and let the shroud hide him.
He would have liked to say he had thought of many thoughtful things.
But that would have been a lie.
Because most of his time spent hiding had been focused on the constant struggle of keeping himself awake.
He was lucky that his Soul Core regenerated energy from the environment around him, and not his own body. Otherwise, he would have been left hunting with only his weapons and a terrible limp.
Originally, he had thought his limp was just some bruised muscle, it wasn't until he had to walk up the stairs of the apartment complex that he realized the hell hound had broken his femur when it had fallen on top of him.
He hadn't been too surprised. With his luck, and with how large the hell hound had been, he was honestly expecting it.
Night had fallen without him even realizing it, and it had only been the familiar howl of a specific Fallen Spawn which only came out at night, that he knew it was time.
Standing up with a weary sigh, he stretched his body as well as he could. With a broken leg that left him with a limp, an arm with a large hole revealing various torn flesh, and a slightly less exhausted body, he couldn't be any less prepared.
At the very least, his soul had regained enough energy to allow him to comfortably travel through the shadows. It would be invaluable during the hunt.
Double checking his weapons were all in place; his longsword in its sheath, the two horns of the hell hound in his left pocket, and his throwing knife sitting comfortably in the sleeve of his overcoat, he decided he was ready.
Either he would come out of this with plenty of food, or he would die trying.
He was really starting to hate how common the latter was becoming as a choice.
Not willing to go through the process of walking down the stairs with his broken leg. He instead moved to one of the windows of the room and set his eyes at the shadows littering the ruined city.
Even if the darkness residing over this city was the same, the small glow of something blue in the air confirmed to him that it was indeed night.
Stepping forward, he let his body fall into the shadows and only a moment later, appeared on a lower rooftop across from the apartment complex.
Flicking his knife into his hand, he moved slowly over the rooftop, keeping a keen eye over his surroundings. When he heard and saw nothing, he let the shadows take him again and began to move.
For the next hour he moved through the streets of the city like a wraith. Appearing on one rooftop, then disappearing to the ground, before vanishing once more.
Whilst various sounds of Fallen Spawn fighting had caught his attention. He didn't risk getting too close. With his ability to fight severely limited, getting too close to something that had just come out of a life-or-death battle would only be foolish.
Instead, he had taken notes from the hell hound and moved his attention onto tracking rather than fighting. That…too didn't offer him anything.
By the time he reached anything, it would either already be getting eaten by a pack of other Fallen Spawn, or its corpse would be getting contested by two stronger abominations.
Another two hours passed like that.
It wasn't until a little later, when he was taking a small break, that his luck had begun to finally turn.
Just across the street from him, hidden in the various shadows littering the city, was a small pack of Fallen Spawn. At first, he hadn't thought much of them. Just another pack he wouldn't be able to fight.
But then, he looked a little closer, and suddenly, his curiosity was peaked.
Whilst this breed of the Fallen Spawn wasn't exactly common, it had been caught and examined enough times by the science community that he had been forced to learn about it when he was younger.
They were, after all, the perfect thing to hunt when looking for food.
The Cervus Elaphus Folium Spawn were creatures known more for appearing in forested lands than cities. Sometimes they would venture far enough to be found at the borders of human civilisation, but it was so rare that it only happened once, maybe twice a year at most.
The interesting part about them was how their genders would alter their appearances.
The males were characterized by their taller and broader bodies, with six powerful legs that ended in sharpened hooves, four burning eyes, large, feathered manes and even bigger antlers which twisted and curved, whilst others stood straight, each ending with terribly sharp points.
The females of the species on the other hand, were far smaller in comparison. Whilst their bodies were still tall, they didn't have nearly as much bulk on them. With two burning eyes, their four legs were thinner too, though their hooves were much sharper and more pointed than their male counterparts.
They also lacked the feathered mane of the males and only had two long and sharp horns on their head. Both species also had terribly powerful bites and mouths full of serrated teeth made for cutting through meat.
Last he checked, the males were of the Rank of Savage, lying somewhere between The Corvus Spawn and the hell hound in power. Whilst the female variant was that of the Rank of Monster.
Not as physically strong, but smart enough to keep up to their male counterparts.
Now why was he contemplating getting involved with a pack that could easily dismantle and kill the two Fallen Spawn he had fought earlier in the day?
Simple.
Out of the four Elaphus Spawn, only one was a male, with the other three all being female. But that wasn't what made him truly consider this.
It was the fact that at the very end of the pack, one of them was slowly falling behind. Not because it didn't want to keep up, but because it couldn't.
It was limping.
Which meant it was injured.
Which meant he had a chance.
Ever so slowly, a plan began to form in his mind.