The fight with the raiders was a serious wake up call for me. The nine second power up time on the wands was a painful eternity. While that worked really well with the bugs and the dungeon bosses, for agile raiders I might as well not even bothered using wands. I needed new tactics, and I needed to craft some ‘Swift’ variety of wands for these hectic fights.

The bleeding at my arms had slowed, but the pain crept in and took hold. The cut on my left arm was shallow and long. However, the wound on my right forearm looked deep and nasty. The strike had gone right through the scales down to my new, stronger bones. Ugly as the bony protrusions made me look, but that evolution might have saved my arm, and I was thrilled about it. I poured water over the wounds to clean them. Darya assured me that I’d be able to buy some healing ointments in town to prevent infection and encourage healing.

Oddly, the pain and sight of the wound didn’t bother me all that much. Was it still the high of the bliss I had felt, or maybe the adrenaline rush? Normal Kevin would have been seeking the closest EMT van to get patched up and fast. However, this monster-Kevin didn’t care. Some muscles in my arm were messed up, as my right hand felt weak. I had difficulty dragging the two runners to the pile of corpses.

Darya looked at my injured arm with concern, narrowed her eyes at me. “What was that?”

“What? The … yeah, I don’t know, okay?” I replied.

She looked down at the pile of corpses, then back up to me. “What the hell are you?”

I shrugged. “Look, I did what I had to.”

The two runners didn’t get far before I dispatched them. I had killed five, Darya killed two. Strangely, I didn’t receive any experience, or evolution points, but felt energized with every kill as if I had absorbed their life energy. I felt it stirring deep inside my chest.

“Trust me, nobody will fault you for killing these bastards. It’s the … the other thing.”

I looked down at my blood-stained forearm, observing the row of four symbols running down its length. Similar symbols adorned my other forearm. They resembled Chinese characters, but far more intricate. None of the eight were the same. Did the symbols mean something? Was it some kind of a language in this world? I needed to ask Gregor about it next time. I had assumed they were merely tattoos, but seeing one of them light up when I killed a raider meant they were something more. Something mystical?

Bloody hell.

The top symbol had changed and was now different from the rest. The black ink of the symbol was leaking out, spreading tendrils like an infection. What did it mean? Whatever it was, it didn’t look good or healthy. I was dreading how much worse it could look in the future. I already had evolution changing up my appearance, I didn’t need these symbols messing with it too. No, thank you.

Whatever happened to me and these symbols, nothing new showed up in my status screen. This was similar to how [Stronger Bones] didn’t add to my HPs or Constitution, but only added a section at the bottom. These symbols didn’t even do that.

A horrid idea struck me. Maybe it wasn’t energy, but their souls that I had absorbed? Because killing monsters, and bugs didn’t have that black wispy smoke and a mindless bliss effect. Was I a lich, or something equally horrifying? Was that my third race, #25490? Nobody in the village had anything similar, not that I paid a lot of attention to their forearms.

However, there was nothing I could do about it now except avoid killing humans -- not something I was at all eager to do in the first place. I could worry about that later, right now we needed to get to town before any more raiders showed up.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“Let’s get moving, it’ll be dark soon.” I said. “We should tell someone about this in Kittrell. I’m sure there’s more raiders in the area.”

Darya shrugged. “I have a feeling they already know, but haven't done anything about it.”

The raiders didn’t have much loot on them. Unsurprisingly, none of the armor fit my body, but I added a scabbard with a longsword to my belt and a gray fur cloak over my shoulders to keep me warm. Karl had picked out what he thought could be sold at the market in Kittrell.

The convoy rumbled forward at a steady pace and we walked on. I heard whispers among the crew, and saw nervous glances. I feared they’d tell someone in town about what happened. Then again, was there really anything wrong with it? So what if I devoured a few souls, but who hasn’t? I joked to myself, but it wasn’t funny. I pulled the cloak forward over my body to hide my arms and the damn symbols.

Against the background of hills, the spire of the chapel came into view, followed by the town’s guard towers, and then the stone wall. We were most of the way to the town, and soon we were passing fields on both sides of the road. The sun was setting over the hills to the west, and the trip was longer than the four hours Darya said it would take.

Guards watched us approach from the towers on both sides of the massive gate. We slowed to a stop just inside the open gates past the moat bridge, and a guard came out to inspect our wagons. The young man nearly stumbled when he saw me. He hesitated for a moment, looked over his shoulder to the older guards at the gate, but they simply waved him to get on with the inspection.

“There’s raiders in the area,” I told the young guard. “We killed seven of them.”

The guard nodded meekly. “Where was this?”

“Just down the road to the east, past the fields in the forest.”

“T-Thank you. I’ll report it to the captain.”

The two older guards whispered between themselves, making subtle gestures in my direction. A minute later one of the guards took off at a brisk walk. I suspected they didn’t often get someone who looked like me in town, and he had run off to tell the authorities. What did they expect I would do here? Burn the place to the ground and devour more souls?

The inspection was quick and he gestured for us to move on after asking where we’d be staying and for how long. Our plan was for two nights so we’d have enough time to sell and buy the needed provisions. There were many shops I was eager to visit. The gold was burning a hole in my pocket. My initial fears that I wouldn’t get my fair share of the gold from the bugs were relieved when Darya simply handed me the purse without any fuss.

“What were they looking for in the wagons?” I asked Darya.

“Smuggled goods, contraband. Stuff like stolen livestock and items. Certain spices and luxury goods that would need to be taxed before you can enter, but we ain’t got none of that with us.”

The wagons rumbled over the worn cobblestones. Buildings of timber and stone lined the narrow roads, their facades adorned with colorful banners and wooden signs. People hurried down the streets and I was surprised at all the hustle and bustle. It felt refreshing to see everyone walking without a single car in sight. Children darted past, playing games and chasing one another, while chickens pecked the dirt searching for grubs. The air was thick with the scent of roasting meats and freshly baked bread, making me hungry.

In the distance, the imposing silhouette of a stone fort loomed over the town, its battlements rising high above the rooftops. The place had an undeniable charm. I felt like I was transported back in time to an era of knights, kings, and fair maidens.

The quaint charm vanished like a fart in a wind as we took a few turns and ended up in the seedy part of town. The roads turned to packed dirt, and the houses showed signs of disrepair. The alleyways were full of refuse and filth. Suspicious figures lurked in the darkness, their faces obscured by hoods or scarves. I kept my hand on the gold-filled purse.

We passed a couple of taverns, gambling dens and brothels. The sound of raucous laughter and drunken revelry spilled out onto the street, mingling with the noise of shouting vendors and barking dogs.

I sighed with relief as shortly after, we came out at a busy port. Along the river, piers jutted out like weathered fingers, reaching into the flowing waters. Small fishing boats bobbed gently in the current while fishermen bustled about, mending nets or sorting through their catches. Merchants were hawking their wares from makeshift stalls, their goods spread out in colorful arrays. As it grew dark, lanterns flickered to life, casting a warm glow over the lively scene.

We entered a stable and parked the wagons at the side. The boys unhitched the mules and the horse, giving them feed and water. Frank and Karl took the more valuable cargo that was packed in sacks and we walked in through the side door into the inn.

“We’ll be safe here, right?” I asked.

Darya blinked. “Yeah … of course.” But her voice betrayed fears and doubt.