As Dante and his group landed safely on the other side of the unfinished bridge, relief surged through them. Their narrow escape was a triumph of determination and luck. But their respite was brief. The car, battered and strained from their harrowing ordeal, sputtered and fell silent. Natasha twisted the ignition repeatedly, but the engine refused to start.
Dante stepped out of the car, his gaze sweeping over their surroundings. The landscape was quiet except for the faint groans of the undead in the distance, their frustrations muffled by the vast chasm separating them. “Looks like we’re stranded,” he said, his voice carrying both exhaustion and resolve. “The car’s done for. We’ll have to continue on foot.”
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The group gathered around the car, staring at its contents: canned food, bottled water, medical kits, ammunition, and a smattering of other essentials. The sight was bittersweet. The supplies were their lifeline, but there was no way to carry it all.
Jack was the first to break the silence, his tone practical but firm. “We need to prioritize. Take only what we absolutely need. The rest will just slow us down.”
Dante nodded, recognizing the wisdom in Jack’s words. Natasha and Nir joined him, each carefully sorting through the supplies. They separated items into piles—those they would carry and those they would reluctantly leave behind.
“I hate leaving all this here,” Nir muttered, cradling a box of medical supplies before setting it aside.
Natasha attempted to lighten the mood, her lips quirking into a wry smile. “Think of it as a parting gift for our undead friends. Sharing is caring, right?”
The group chuckled softly, the humor a welcome balm for their strained nerves. They distributed the chosen items evenly, ensuring no one was overburdened, then shouldered their packs and set off into the woods.
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Their path led them through dense undergrowth and towering trees. The air was thick with the smell of earth and damp foliage. As they pushed deeper, a cacophony of sounds emerged—a chorus of shouting and guttural croaks.
Dante signaled for the group to slow. They crept closer, and soon the source of the commotion became clear: a survivor camp, nestled in a clearing, was under attack by a horde of grotesque creatures.
Lesser frogs, mutated monstrosities with slick, warty skin, were swarming the camp. The survivors, armed with makeshift weapons, fought desperately to defend their home. Tents collapsed under the onslaught, and fires flickered wildly as the frogs tore through fabric and flesh alike.
Dante didn’t hesitate. He raised his voice, calling to his group. “Let’s move! They need help!”
Jack charged in with a roar, his orc club swinging in wide arcs that sent frogs flying. Nir moved with precision, his dagger gleaming as he targeted the creatures’ soft underbellies.
Dante stayed close to the survivors, raising his remaining hand to fire bone bullets whenever necessary to protect those in danger. His shots were not perfect, but with each attempt, his aim steadily improved. The tension of the battle sharpened his focus, turning every missed shot into a lesson. Over time, his bone bullets began to find their marks more frequently, striking down frogs that threatened the survivors.
Dante couldn't help but notice some larger frogs among them. These creatures were about half a meter long, with smooth, green skin. Their feet and hands had transformed into more claw-like appendages, giving them a more menacing appearance.
Dante activated his "Eye of Appraisal" skill who just level up on one of the lesser frogs. The information about the creature quickly filled his mind:
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Lesser Frog
Level: 3
Description: Mutated amphibians with limited intelligence. Hunt in packs and attack with long, sticky tongues.
Lesser Frog Lv 3
Lesser Frog Lv 4
Lesser Frog Lv 5
Lesser Frog Lv 3
........
Dante thought "The additional information is Probably from my skill Eye of Appraisal level up to level 2 and it seem they level is not fixed and most of them between level 3-5" , he quickly shifted his gaze to one of the three larger frogs:
Clawed Frog
Level: 10
Description: Evolved form of Lesser Frogs. Possess greater size, strength, and agility. Natural resistance to physical attacks. Dangerous claws capable of tearing flesh.
Dante gritted his teeth. He was low on mana, and these creatures were far stronger than their smaller counterparts. As one of the Clawed Frogs lunged at him, he made a split-second decision, transforming his hand into a bone claw.
The frog’s claws clashed with Dante’s, the sound of bone against claw piercing the air. Dante winced as the impact vibrated through his arm, but he held firm, pushing back with all his strength.
The frog reared for another strike, but before it could attack, a burst of water shot from the camp, striking the creature squarely in the face. The water arrow sent it stumbling back, disoriented.
Dante seized the opening, slashing at the frog’s side. His bone claw tore through its flesh, and the creature let out a guttural croak of pain. Wounded, it retreated into the forest, followed by the remaining Clawed Frogs and their lesser companions.
The battle was over. The camp, though battered, had survived.
As the adrenaline of battle subsided, Dante group and the survivors began to regroup and tend to their wounded. Dante couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie with these people, brought together by the harsh realities of their world.
Once the chaos had subsided, the survivors gathered around Dante and his group, expressions of gratitude mixed with curiosity.
A woman with a determined look stepped forward, her attire adorned with a symbol resembling a water droplet and jeans . She introduced herself as Maya, appearing to be in her thirties, her short, brown hair framing a face marked by the hardships of survival. Her eyes, the color of deep ocean waters, held a steely determination, a testament to the challenges she had faced , her body figure was normal and her chest was a little bit bigger than Selene .
Maya stood tall and exuded an air of authority, which immediately marked her as the leader of the survivors' group. Her attire, a mix of practicality and protection, included a weathered leather jacket adorned with the symbol of a water droplet.
Maya, the leader of the survivors, approached Dante with a nod of appreciation. "You and your group arrived just in time. We owe you our lives."
Maya's gaze held a hint of curiosity as she looked at Dante's bone claw. "I've never seen someone with abilities like yours before"
Dante couldn't resist a grin despite the exhaustion. "Well, I like to think of it as my 'handy' skill," he quipped, raising his bone-clawed hand playfully.
The survivors chuckled, the tension of the battle finally giving way to some much-needed levity. The world may have changed, but humor was a small reminder of their humanity.