It had been a few days since his last hunt. Xorathul had successfully caught three deer, four rabbits, and five fish.
These feats made him stronger as he adapted to his new human body. However, his unfamiliarity with human biology left him struggling to use his abilities effectively. Though he was faster than a deer, stronger than a bear, and possessed sharper reflexes than a rabbit, it was all for naught if he kept stumbling and tripping over himself due to his clumsiness.
As he hunted, Xorathul drove his spear into the side of a fleeing deer. The animal collapsed beneath him. Grinning, he tore through it effortlessly, devouring it in seconds. This primal feast helped him regain some of his eldritch senses—not much, just the basics, but it was progress. He had also begun to manipulate his new body to a limited extent. For example, he could open a massive maw of jagged teeth in his head, which made consuming his prey significantly faster.
Wiping the blood from his spear, he stood and mused to himself. I should be ready to face tougher foes now. Maybe a goblin or two… He shook his head, scoffing. No, that's how cowards think. I should take on an orc… or maybe a Great Bear! His grin widened, his thoughts filling with overconfidence, until he suddenly bumped into something.
Annoyed, Xorathul looked up to see what or who had interrupted him. His irritation quickly turned to surprise as he realized what stood before him: a Nuant.
Nuants were tall, bipedal carnivores classified as monsters rather than mere animals. This one was at least seven feet tall, with hooves, large retractable claws, and brown fur covered in spiked ridges along its back. Its canine-like head was adorned with a pair of massive antlers.
To Xorathul’s dismay, he’d walked right into the creature's prized jewels, and the beast was furious. Instinctively, he dashed backward to create some distance, gripping his spear tightly and pointing it at the Nuant.
“Fuck. I didn’t know these things were in these woods,” he muttered to himself. “Did it migrate?” Shaking off the thought, he snarled, “Fuck off. I don’t want to waste my time on you.”
He smirked, impressed with his human insults, but the Nuant didn’t seem to care. It lunged at him with extended claws.
Reacting quickly, Xorathul thrust his wooden spear into the Nuant’s palm. The weapon pierced through, eliciting a howl of pain. However, the creature grabbed the embedded spear, ripped it from Xorathul’s grip, and snapped it in half.
Before Xorathul could react, the beast struck him with its other hand, sending him flying through the forest. He coughed up blood as he hit the ground. Thankfully, his troll-like regeneration quickly began to heal his injuries.
Grimacing, he extended a hand toward the Nuant, palm open. He wanted to test a particular skill.
“ELDRITCH BLAST!” he shouted, cringing at how ridiculous it sounded aloud.
A torrent of dark energy erupted from his hand, tearing through the air and striking the Nuant square in the chest. The impact sent the beast toppling backward.
But it wasn’t finished. Slowly, the Nuant rose to its feet. One of its antlers cracked and fell to the ground, but its body began to glow with an ominous orange light. Veins pulsed visibly beneath its fur, and its black eyes gleamed red with fury. Dropping to all fours, the Nuant snarled, its energy crackling.
In an instant, it was upon him. A claw came slashing down, but Xorathul, using his mantis-like speed, retaliated. Tendrils extended from his body, wrapping around the Nuant’s arms and neck. He lunged forward, his hands gouging into the beast’s eyes as it thrashed and snapped at him. Its jaws sank into his shoulder, but Xorathul pressed on, his thumbs digging deeper into the Nuant’s sockets. With a sickening squelch, he ripped its eyes out.
Blinded and enraged, the Nuant tore through the tendrils and grabbed Xorathul, ripping his arms off and hurling him aside. The beast clutched its ruined face, howling in agony.
“Damn.” Xorathul stood, his armless body still oozing blood but with amusement on his face. “Give me a minute.” Using a tendril, he reattached one of his arms, allowing his regeneration to work faster. He whistled a tune poorly at first as he walked back to the incapacitated Nuant.
By the time he reached it, his whistling had improved. He picked up the broken spear and inspected it. “Shame,” he muttered with a shrug. Holding the remnants of the weapon high above his head, he activated another skill.
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“SMITE.”
Holy energy surged through the spear as Xorathul brought it down with devastating force, obliterating the Nuant’s head and a large portion of the ground beneath it.
He examined the smoldering ashes in his now-burnt hand. “I can see why the hero had trouble using that skill. It takes some serious concentration to pull off.”
As his hand healed, he turned his attention to the remains of the Nuant. Nuants are usually moderate threats, suitable for C- to B-class adventurers. They also tend to hunt in packs. Why was this one alone?
He dismissed the thought with a shrug. No use worrying now. The beast was still warm, and he intended to devour it.
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In the royal Kingdom of Dawn, seated upon the golden throne was King Lionus Dawn, a man in the twilight of his life. His once-vibrant visage had softened with age, but his presence still commanded authority. He gazed down at his knight, who had recently returned from what was rumored to be a failed mission.
“Is that what happened?” the king asked, his voice worn but still carrying the weight of command.
“Yes, Your Majesty. The adventuring party and I were attacked by a demon. I believe it was newly summoned. It killed the druid and the ranger I was with…” Keras trailed off, his tone heavy with regret.
“I see.” The king sighed, rubbing his temple. “I need a drink… Did you at least uncover any information about the hero?”
Keras shook his head solemnly.
“My Solaris…” the king began, almost taking the God’s name in vain before catching himself. “Very well. Inform the church of the demon’s appearance and remain on standby. I will need you for another task soon.”
Keras stood and saluted before leaving. The palace guards closed the double doors behind him with a resounding thud.
Lionus leaned back in his throne, his expression weary. “The kingdom faces attacks from within its borders bandits, monsters, and now demons. What should I do, Festus?” he asked his advisor, who had been silently observing the exchange from the side.
Festus adjusted his slicked-back black hair and replied with measured calm. “I believe Your Majesty should enlist the help of the Adventurers’ Guild to address the growing monster problem, bolster security on the main roads, and leave the supernatural threats to the church, as it has always done.”
“Perhaps you’re right.” The king nodded, though his face remained troubled. “But the church can’t be trusted unless it’s given full control of the kingdom’s power, and we both know the consequences of that.”
“Indeed, Your Majesty. My father witnessed the horrors of the Second Crusade firsthand,” Festus said, his voice tinged with solemnity.
Lionus rose from his throne, his flowing robes trailing across the palace floor as he walked. “Festus, when is the meeting with the dwarves scheduled?”
“Two weeks from now, Your Majesty.”
“I see. And when does my granddaughter leave for the academy?”
“In two days.”
“Prepare a gift for her and let her know I wish to see her tomorrow.”
“I will see to it.” Festus bowed deeply before exiting the throne room.
Left alone, the king paced across the vast chamber. His eyes lingered on a grand painting that dominated one wall. The artwork depicted himself and his son, both wearing stoic expressions, with the legendary Sword of Dawn in his hand. Behind them loomed the slain form of a chimera, a symbol of past triumphs.
But those days felt like distant memories.
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He checked the system after devouring the Nuant, to his surprise he gain a level.
⌈ NAME: XORATHUL. LEVEL: 2
CLASS: NONE. TITLES: NONE
HEALTH POINTS:400/400
STRENGTH: 15. VITALITY: 20.
AGILITY:25. DEXTERITY:30.
INTELLIGENCE:10. LUCK: 0.
MAGIC: 2. ENDURANCE: 19.
FAITH: 4. CHARISMA: 4.
Available Points: 10.
“Oh ho?” he murmured with a grin, his eyes scanning the available stats. He hadn’t expected to be able to invest so many points, and he was impressed by the gains. Three permanent points in Dexterity and five in Agility? It had to be because he devoured that Nuant. If I eat more powerful creatures, he mused, maybe I can gain even more permanent stats.
“Anyway,” he muttered to himself, “I’ll put five points into Strength... and maybe the rest into Endurance. Yeah, that sounds good.” Smirking, he dumped all the available points into Strength and Endurance.
Charisma, Magic, Luck, and Faith? Completely useless stats, he thought dismissively. Physical stats are all I care about they’re the only ones that matter.
“EEEEIIII!”
A piercing scream shattered his concentration, snapping him to attention. For a moment, his annoyance gave way to excitement. Without hesitation, he sprinted toward the sound.
He skidded to a halt, spotting the source of the noise: a human woman, likely in her late thirties, lying on her back and clutching her leg. She looked vulnerable, helpless.
Easy prey, he thought with a sinister grin as his skin darkened. The center of his face split open, revealing a grotesque maw lined with jagged teeth. With a predatory leap, he pounced on her.
She barely had time to react. His jaws moved to clamp down on her neck but he stopped.
Stopped? Why am I stopping? Why... can’t I bite her?
Confusion surged through his mind as he hesitated, his teeth hovering mere inches from her flesh.
“P-p-please don’t!” she sobbed, her voice breaking as tears streamed down her face.
I... can’t hurt her. Why? Why do I feel... so bad?
He stared at her, frozen in place. Something unfamiliar churned in his chest, and the predatory hunger that had driven him moments before began to fade. With a frustrated growl, he pushed himself off her and stumbled backward.
Without another word, he turned and ran, leaving the woman lying there confused, terrified, but undeniably relieved.