He walked for several hours.

At some point he started to realized that he had started to become hungry. Unfortunately, looking around availed him to no available food. There were no plants in this rocky wasteland. No trees, grass, or even normal animals. Just those demon beasts like the hellhounds he had fought before. All of a sudden, the fights over the piles of corpses made a lot more sense. For all the wild beasts of this land, it was the only source of food.

As much as dining on what was essentially carrion bothered him on a mental level, the growling gurgling in his stomach was quickly quenching his inhibitions.

Crawling on all fours up to the top of a hill behind a rock, he commanded the undead to keep low. For a brief moment, his eyes lingered on his zombies. The hell hounds were slightly kind of fresh. Maybe he could eat them and not risk a fight? This was the third pile he had checked out and it was becoming clear securing food would be difficult.

Looking at one of the smaller piles of corpses, he saw a vulture-like bird ripping into the corpse of some reptilian biped.

Stygian Bird: Tier 2 Demon Beast

Continuing to scan, he sighed as he noticed nearly a dozen more around the pile where they had dragged their own carrion away. It was like this at every group of food he had found. There was always something to strong for him to fight. Those hell hounds had nearly killed him and they were tier 1. They were actually the minority in this realm as the majority were tier 2. He'd even seen a few that were tier 3.

He turned around and leaned his head against the rock, thinking furiously. It was clear he couldn't go to any of the piles. There were singular bodies falling on occasion but they were rare and hard to find. Aside from the corpse of Red, none of them had landed right at his feet or even close really. Turning his head to the right slightly with a sigh, he looked at the mountains. They were closer now. He estimated another day of travel would get him to the foot of the mountains. From there he could follow along looking for trails or paths. If he couldn't find any, he'd make his way to the wall of mist slightly to his right.

On that note, he had no clue on which cardinal direction everything was. It wasn't like he had a compass. There was no sun in the sky, just the white fog. He really needed to find people. They may be dangerous, but maybe they wouldn't be.

There was only one thing to do. He'd keep an eye out for lone demon beasts. If he could hunt one down on its own he may be able to gather a meal. For now, he'd just have to keep going and ignore the hunger. Sliding back down the hill with another sigh, he shook his head. This was going to be unpleasant.

Everything hurt. The hunger was so palpable it was all he could think about. Red and Twist were gone. He'd had an unfortunate encounter with some kind of spider nest. The rocks had just burst open and stolen his two undead before he could even look at them. He thought they were spiders but they seemed... wrong. The eyes on the side of its head he had sworn were... humanoid... On top of that, Crack had lost a leg. He was pretty sure it was some sort of worm that camouflaged into the scenery. Thankfully, it was about Crack's size so all it could take was the leg. Crack had lit it up with his flame breath in response and caused it to flee underground. He couldn't even kill a fucking worm.

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It had been two days now and he was struggling to keep going. He'd gained the mana back when he lost his two undead but couldn't find any more corpses that were unclaimed. His guards were low. His body was struggling. All he could hope was to find people.

Thankfully, there was hope. He had seen something leave the mists. As he'd gotten closer, he realized it was a group of wagons. They were being pulled by some odd multi segmented creatures with suction cup like legs. They looked like weird caterpillars. He'd estimated he'd be able to intercept them after a few hours.

Now his legs shook with every step. Even on all fours he couldn't hold himself up much longer. He'd have to eat Crack. It would leave him defenseless but he couldn't keep going like this. It was simple enough to kill his companion. He simply pulled on his mana and it escaped in a stream. The Hellhound fell to the floor unmoving. Crawling closer, his stomach growled. He didn't have a jaw so he'd have to rip his pet apart with his hands. The claws on the ends of his fingers were sharp. With a bit of effort he could slice pieces of the demon beast off. Taking a piece of its side away, he shuddered. Something in him disliked the idea of eating raw meat; however, he had no way to cook it. If he still had a hell hound left he could perhaps start a fire, though he lacked the fuel to do so.

He struggled to consume the raw meat. His mouth watered as he began to feed it. His mind shuddered at the feeling of room temperature flesh. The blood had solidified. The meat wasn't fresh. It was awful. And yet, he couldn't stop eating. He was so hungry. A mixture of shame, disgust, and anger built in his chest. He shouldn't be doing this. He should be able to make a proper meal. He wasn't sure why he thought so but he did. Something inside of him spoke that he deserved better. Finer things. Things well done. Not this savage way of living. The meat tasted like smoke and ash. There was probably something poetic about that. Dinner of your companions can only turn to ash or something. He was too hungry to be eloquent.

It wasn't until a shadow loomed over him that he realized his mistake. Looking up he could see a flock of those same birds from before in the sky circling him. Stygian birds he believed to recall. There had to be nearly thirty of them in the sky drawn by the scent of flesh open to the air. He scrambled to move as the birds screeched, and a rain of feathers flew towards him. When they hit him they sank into his flesh like daggers. He took a feather to his thigh, then his upper arm, then his back. Hurriedly casting regeneration dread filled him. It couldn't outpace the sheer amount of feathers falling on him. There were dozens every second

Falling to the floor he curled into a ball and tried to cover his vital organs with his limbs as he was shredded. His vision began to become blurry with blood loss. This was it. Again, he was on the brink of death, and he had no way out this time. He couldn't curse that many. His guards were dead. His regeneration couldn't keep up. He couldn't even attack them with his claws as they flew in the sky.

That was when the fireball roared through the sky.

It flew into the center of the flock and burst into a molten rain. The magma seemed to home in on the birds and cling to their bodies. It fused their metallic feathers together with its heat causing them to plummet from the skies by the handful. Quickly, the flock scattered and ran in different directions. He took this as a chance to try and pull the feathers stuck in his body out. While he was doing so, he heard foot steps approaching from behind, and he could feel his heart thumping nervously in his ears. An even worse predator. Some sort of awful giant hell hound that would eat him in one bite. In his panic he didn't realize his mistake. Pulling out the feathers had only let more blood escape. His consciousness began to flee as he saw what looked like a flame haired man of ash and bronze fall from the sky in a haze of heat.