Another hour had passed, each minute dragging on like an eternity in the heat of battle.
Juan's arms burned with each swing, the axe slicing through the air with a heavy thud as it struck another wolf. Sweat beading on his skin as he fought to maintain his balance on the swaying tree trunk.
The wolves continuously surged forward. Juan hold tightening on the vines as he pivoted, bringing the axe down in a wide arc. The blunt edge connected with a sickening crunch, sending another wolf tumbling to the ground.
Ten wolves left... My arms feel like they’re going to fall off.
As the wolves leapt up the trunk, Juan swung the axe, knocking one back. But another two managed to get a foothold, their claws digging into the bark. Juan felt the tree trunk tremble beneath his feet, and he knew he couldn't hold them off much longer.
Exhausted, Juan shifting his weight, ready to strike again. But as he drew back the axe, the vines he'd secured suddenly snapped, and the tree trunk lurched sideways.
Juan's eyes widened in panic as he felt the ground rushing up to meet him. He tried to grab onto the remaining vines, but it was too late. With a strangled cry, he plunged into the swampy waters below.
The cold, murky liquid enveloped him, and for a moment, he couldn't tell which way was up. Flailing his limbs, he broke the surface, gasping for air. The wolves howled from the tree above as they lost sight of their prey.
Juan coughed, exhausted and dripping wet, Juan waded through the shallow water.
Damn it, I should have been more careful. I should have retreated when I had the chance.
Shivering, Juan scanned his surroundings, searching for a way out of the swamp.
Slowly, he also turned his head, peering up through the swamp trees. The wolves were still there, their eyes glaring down at him. Juan let out a shaky breath, relief washing over him.
Glancing around, Juan's gaze fell on the scattered remains of the wolves he had felled earlier. Tightening his grip on the slick vines, he pulled himself closer to the carcasses, his eyes scanning each corpse.
"Come on, come on," he muttered, his eyes darting back and forth. He needed to find something, anything, that could give him an edge against these pack of zombie wolves.
His hand brushed against something hard, and he grasped it, pulling it from the muck. It was a scroll. Juan's eyes widened, and he quickly stashed it in his pocket, hoping it might prove useful.
As he continued his search, his eyes caught a glint of gleaming black orbs scattered among the corpses. Reaching down, he collected four of them. Orbs!.
Suddenly, a loud splash erupted nearby, and Juan whirled around and saw one of the wolves had grown impatient and leapt into the swamp.
Glancing above the treeline, Juan spotted his lit torch. A sigh of relief escaped him as he neared the tree.
Just as he began to climb, the wolf from earlier howled and snapped at his boots, its jaws missing by mere inches. Juan gritted his teeth, forcing his focus on the climb. He couldn’t afford to slip now—not with the safety of the tree so close.
With a final heave, he pulled himself up onto the sturdy branch. He cast a wary glance at the wolf, who had retreated to the base of the tree. Bad Nathan look-alike!
He sank down onto the branch. He needed a moment to catch his breath and assess his situation.
----------------------------------------
The sun was slowly dipping below the horizon. Juan could feel the temperature dropping as the day gave way to night. Juan trying to calm his racing heart after the intense battle with the wolves.
Suddenly, a new sound pierced the air - the howling of the wolves, but it was different than before. Their cries sounded almost... mournful, like the desperate wails of creatures in pain.
What's going on?
The wolves had been relentless in their attacks. But now their howls carried a note of anguish. Cautiously, he peered over the edge of the branch, scanning the area below. The wolves had gathered around the base of the tree, their heads thrown back as they continued to howl. Juan's gaze landed on the scattered corpses of their fallen packmates, and realization dawned on him.
They're... grieving.
The thought struck him with an unexpected pang of sympathy. These creatures, for all their ferocity, were not simply mindless killers. They were mourning the loss of their own. The intensity of their sorrow was palpable, an idea that even the most savage beasts or zombies were capable of complex emotions.
Suddenly, one of the wolves lifted its head, its eyes locking with Juan's. The creature let out a low, mournful howl, and Juan felt a lump form in his throat. There was an intelligence in that gaze, a depth of feeling that caught him off guard.
They're not just zombies…
Carefully, Juan reached into his pocket, his fingers closing around the scroll he had retrieved from the swamp. Perhaps it held the answers he sought, a way to understand these creatures and the world he now found himself in. With a deep breath, he check the scroll, his eyes scanning the text.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Wooden Chair
Type: Blueprint - Furniture (Fragment)
Rarity: Common | Rank: I
> Wooden Chair is a simple, sturdy furniture made from rough, untreated wood. It features a flat seat with a basic backrest, supported by four solid legs. The structure is straightforward, with no extra details, focusing on functionality over decoration. The chair is designed to be practical and easy to build, with a look suited for basic comfort.
Juan gazed at the scroll. "A wooden chair? fragment..? Seriously?" he felt disheartened.
He shoved the scroll and the four black orbs into his Codex. "Alright, let's see these orbs are all about," he said, his voice low and tense. Tapping the Black Orb with his finger, he activated the info.
Grimhowls
Affinity: Death | Rarity: Uncommon | Rank: I
> Grimhowls are nightmarish creatures that haunt the desolate land. Once ordinary wolves, these predators have been twisted by dark, unnatural forces. Their fur is matted and patchy, a mix of graying and rotting flesh that gives off a putrid stench.
>
> While their physical form has been corrupted, the Grimhowls retain their predatory instincts. Agile and relentless, they hunt in packs, tearing apart anything that crosses their path.
>
> As the pack thins and fewer of their brethren remain, the remaining Grimhowls let out a haunting, mournful howl—a signal that echoes across the land. The sound carries with it a deep, sorrowful resonance, a final warning to any who may still be within earshot. It is not just the call of a predator, but a desperate warcry—an invitation to the surviving pack to gather once more, and to any who stand in their way: to prepare for a surge of relentless death.
I stand corrected. They’re not mourning their friends—they’re mourning for me.
Juan watched the wolves below. The pack had grown, their numbers swelling to a dozen or more. Their movements were erratic, their howls carrying a desperate, savage mood.
How did they get two more? Trying to make sense of the situation. He had thought he had the upper hand, but now the wolves seemed more determined than ever.
"Come on, come on," Juan his gaze darting around the swamp, searching for any means of escape. The torch he had lit earlier was still burning. But it provided little comfort as the wolves circled the base of the tree, their haunting cries echoing through the night.
Juan felt sweat bead on his brow as unease crept over him. He didn’t like how these wolves were behaving. I need to prepare for the worst.
With no alternatives left, the time had arrived. He took a deep breath and clutched his Red Orb. This won't affect my mind, will it? He remembered Derek's actions. After all, he was unaware of what this orb might do to him.
Juan glanced at his Mana: 89/100.
Might
Ⓞ
Soul
Ⓞ
Mind
Ⓞ
Juan paused, considering his options in the Core page. Might, Soul, or Mind? Each word carried its own risks and opportunities, but in his current situation, the choice seemed obvious.
"The Might is the easiest to understand," Juan muttered. "I don't want to mess with Soul or Mind without accurate information.
With a deep breath, he gently placed the Red Orb in the Core page - Might slot, watching as it hovered at the top of the page before sinking in with a soft hum. An uneasy feeling stirred in the pit of his stomach as he wait for the reaction of the orb. Closing his eyes, biting his lips..
----------------------------------------
Seconds ticked by, and he felt a strange tingling sensation spread through his body, but nothing else happened. No burst of power, no dramatic transformation—just an unsettling stillness.
Maybe it didn't work? Juan frowned, his fingers drumming anxiously against the worn pages of his Codex. He peered down at the swamp, where the Grimhowls continued their mournful howling.
Suddenly, a jolt of heat surged through Juan's veins, causing him to gasp. The sensation started in his chest, then radiated outward, warming his limbs. It wasn't an unbearable heat, but rather a comforting, almost exhilarating feeling.
This feels like I'm in a sauna.
Juan noticed some changes his muscles seemed to tighten, and his senses sharpened. The world around him appeared clearer, the sounds of the swamp more vibrant and distinct.
Gripping the tree branch, he took a moment to assess it. His body felt lighter, more agile—as if he could leap from the tree with ease.
"Whoa..." Juan breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. He flexed his fingers, feeling the strength in his grip.
Carefully, he shifted his weight, testing the limits of his body. The tree trunk felt more stable beneath his feet, and he found himself moving with a fluidity and grace that surprised him.
Then Juan remembered Derek’s words, and he want to test it.
Flameforged!
Juan silently waiting for something—anything—to happen. But the world remained still. Just him, standing there, feeling a little ridiculous.
"...Really?" he muttered, glancing at the Red Orb still nestled in the slot. Was he missing something, or was Derek just making something up.
Oh! I can now check the Info on the Might slot!
Core: Cinderhoof (Might - Rare Rank I)
* Strength: ++
* Speed: +
* Physical Defense: -
* Blood Regeneration: -
Juan stared down at the information displayed in his Codex, his face shows with concern. The Cinderhoof Core granted him a significant boost in strength, but at the cost of his defense and blood regeneration.
"Is it balanced? - an increase in attack power at the sacrifice of defense," he thought, chewing on his lip. But the question lingered - was this a permanent trade-off, or something more temporary?
The howls of the Grimhowls below snapped him back to the present.
But where's the Flameforged?