These beasts were not designed with stamina in mind, and so he had eventually outran them. Those who fell behind, were immediately eaten alive by the others. Bit by bit, there were only a couple of particularly agile beasts left.

The quickest of which lunged forward and clamped its jaws around his lower leg. He screamed out in pain, and stomped his other foot onto its skull. This beast did not want to lessen its grip, and soon another attacked his other leg. He let out a blood-curdling cry as he felt his bones fracture. His mind went hazy from the extreme pain, and in an action of pure rage, he grabbed one of them by the neck and twisted it. The other beast saw this, became scared, picked up his dismembered foot and ran away.

He was no longer in danger, but he had been crippled. He would definitely be killed the next time the ocean gave birth to these creatures. The tips of his legs were nothing but crushed bone, so he could only crawl along the ground. He put the corpse of the beast whose neck he had twisted on his back, and began his slow journey to the mountain range.

It was the second time he sought refuge from the ocean in the mountains. The path was filled with sharp rocks that scraped up his skin and tore his clothes. He eventually made his way into a natural cave formation, where from the entrance of which one could see all the way to the ocean. Below were treacherous cliffs that appeared to be like a net of thorns. They menacingly pointed upwards with jagged tips, as if trying to pierce the sky. Here, he knew he could rest.

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He placed the beast corpse under his head like a pillow, and fell into a slumber. When he woke up, he felt an incredible hunger. He realized that he had not eaten anything since the summoning, and clutched his stomach in agony. Then he could smell the stench of blood from his "pillow". Reluctantly, he looked at it and realized he had no other choice.

He had never eaten raw flesh before, and the pungent smell made him sick. Even so, his primal instincts gradually overwhelmed him as he tore off the creature's skin with his teeth and bit into the rough flesh beneath. It tasted horrible, like sewage waste mixed with fermented milk. Every portion was strainingly forced down his throat, and he nearly vomited several times.

Soon, he had quenched his hunger. He tried to stand up, but gasped in pain as he was painfully reminded that his feet had been reduced to something akin to a tree violently broken in half by a storm. He could not hold himself any longer and cried out in pain, although it sounded more like a howl at this point.

Many days and nights were spent like this, gnawing away at the rotting beast corpse, drinking its blood and trying to ignore his own stabbing pain. At some point, he began fantasizing about taking the easy way out. He stubbornly decided against it, because he refused to give up so soon. It was a short-lived decision.

He woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. The pain had become even more intense than before now, and he could barely breathe. His vision turned hazy, and he decided to give up. In his peripheral vision was a particularly sharp shard of rock that he had used to help slice meat off the beast corpse. He grabbed the shard, closed his eyes, and severed one of the main arteries on his throat.

Blood gushed out like a fountain, and he felt his body go limp. His vision was blurring and the colors faded into each other. He felt himself drift into a cold daze as the ground was dyed a deep crimson.