'A Relic?'
His eyes widened at the sound. Relics were magical items that could only be obtained by killing monsters… or humans. They were immensely powerful. Even the weakest Relic far surpassed any weapon humans could forge.
Without wasting a second, he opened his status and focused on the new item.
[Scavenger's Glaive]
[Crafted with desperation, the weapon provides-]
He gave the description a quick glance before closing the window. He wasn't interested in the weapon's history, at least not right now. Right now, he just wanted to see a Relic for the first time in his life.
He stretched out his arm and focused on the weapon's name. As he did, a sudden energy burst from within him, and in an instant, a long glaive materialized in his grasp. It was made of dark, ragged wood and used a sharpened beak—identical to the vulture's—as its blade.
"Lighter than it looks," he noted, swinging it a couple of times.
The good thing was that he had a weapon. The bad thing was, he had no idea how to use it. He'd never used a glaive, or a spear, or any weapon at all. A sword, he could maybe imagine, but this?
A slight frown appeared on his face as he clumsily swung the weapon in awkward, useless arcs.
'This… will take some time.'
Then his focus shifted to his shoulder. The wound was still bleeding, though it seemed to be slowing. He grimaced at the ugly sight, then forced his gaze forward. There was still nothing in sight.
Not wanting to waste more time, he continued onward, pushing himself through the desert. The pain in his shoulder lingered, and so did the foul taste in his mouth. The sun, despite descending, still beat down relentlessly. But worst of all was the thirst. A dizzying haze started to cloud his mind, but he didn't have long to bask in that unawareness.
A sudden shriek snapped him back to the present.
His gaze shot upward. Two more vulture-like creatures were hanging in the sky. Whether they were drawn by the smell of blood or the death of their kin, he wasn't sure, and it didn't matter. They snapped their wings and tore down toward him.
'Damn it!'
He summoned the Scavenger's Glaive, the dark wood feeling foreign in his hand. He awkwardly pivoted to the side, tumbling across the sand as the first beak stabbed the space he'd just occupied. But without giving him a moment to adjust, the second bird was on him.
Lune swung the glaive in a wild, desperate arc. Luckily, perhaps due to the bird's lack of intelligence or his own sheer desperation, the blade connected. Dark liquid sprayed from the vulture as the glaive tore across its torso. The creature shrieked and fell, the wound too deep for it to recover.
[You have slain a White Stage, Dormant Monster: Crimson Vulture.]
Before the announcement could even finish, the second bird lunged. Lune moved just in time to block the creature's beak with the shaft of his weapon. He stumbled backward, the bird on top of him, its weight driving him down as its beak scraped against the dark wood. Its wings flapped violently, pushing with terrifying force.
After a long, straining struggle—him trying to shove the creature off, the vulture trying to force its beak past the shaft—he finally managed to break free. The bird fell on its side, scrambling, and lunged forward once more.
At the same moment, Lune thrust the glaive forward.
The sharp, beak-like blade connected, slicing just deep enough across the bird's neck. The vulture collapsed onto him, its blood spraying hot and thick over his face and chest. It tried to lift its beak one last time, its wings giving a final, spasmodic flap before its body went still.
[You have slain a White Stage, Dormant Monster: Crimson Vulture.]
Lune allowed his body to fall onto its back, taking in painful, ragged breaths. His muscles screamed for rest, his body yearned for water, his mind begged for sleep. But he pushed through. With a painful groan, he lifted himself up and looked around.
Two dead vultures sprawled across the crimson sand. There were still no landmarks on the horizon, nothing to stride toward.
His thoughts drifted to his quest, the Temple of the Hollow God.
'How the hell am I supposed to find a temple in a place where there's nothing but sand?'
Frustration grew, a hot coal in his chest. But as much as he wanted to give up, he wouldn't. He wasn't about to let the place that killed his parents claim him, too.