Truth be told, Zoe was coming to enjoy Millie’s company more than she had Lily and Andric’s. Of course, she was still going to track down those two at some point. She wasn’t sure when, but she couldn’t let them get away without her giving them a piece of her mind and getting some closure.

Also, if someone else killed them, she was going to be really annoyed. They were—ostensibly—on her side, and Zoe didn’t like people killing people who were on her side. It was like someone knocking over your mailbox and leaving ruts in your lawn. Completely intolerable.

But in any case, she had to admit she found the child both agreeable and far less bothersome. Sure, she could be annoying, but it a talkative way, not in a ‘almost get Zoe killed again’ way.

They had been traveling upstream now for three days. After the second, there had been no more sign of any kind of pursuit. Zoe still checked occasionally, but she hoped that this meant nothing would ultimately come of it. Now, it was the morning of the fourth day, which in Zoe’s mind marked a major milestone. I’ve now been in this world without major incident for as long as I was in it fighting for my life.

The situation at present was delightfully suspicious. Which worried her. This would be the perfectly ironic moment for everything to go sideways.

But the sun continued to rise above the mountains, they rounded bend after bend in the river, and nothing attacked them except for one of those wild boars. This time, Zoe wasn’t the one to kill it. Curious to see what Millie was capable of, she had encouraged the girl to take it down herself. Of course, Zoe was right there with her, prepared at a moment’s notice to jump in should it go wrong.

But not too close that she wouldn’t have an excuse for waiting just a little bit longer to see what would happen first.

As the animal charged, Millie unleashed her arrow straight into its eye. By Zoe’s reckoning, it had taken her less than a second to draw and notch her arrow, aim, and release. The kid really was a skilled shot. Zoe still didn’t know how awakening worked for most people, but she would be shocked if Millie wasn’t guaranteed to awaken some kind of ranged path.

The shot didn’t actually kill the boar. While Zoe was instinctively aware that the injury was quite serious, it was far from enough to bring the monster down—at least for the time being. But at the same time, that didn’t mean that the boar was content to continue its charge.

Instead, it immediately pivoted around and hastened off up the riverbank, kicking up a spray of silt and sand as it did so. Millie and Zoe shared a look.

Running after the boar, Zoe did her best to remain just slightly ahead of Millie. On one hand, she was much faster on flat ground. On the other hand, this was still Millie’s fight, so she didn’t want to dust her. So Zoe took the middle position, which was to effectively keep pressuring Millie to push herself harder.

And yet, the boar was gaining. I wonder why it doesn’t think to go back into the jungle. Of course, Millie would actually be able to outrun it then, as she was quite fast in the branches and the boar would be slowed down by the undergrowth. But it wasn’t like this particular animal was smart enough to know that.

“Pick me up!”

Zoe glanced down in confusion. “What?”

“Pick me up!”

“No!” Zoe shook her head vehemently. “There is no way I am carrying you. You have legs too.”

Instead of protesting like Zoe expected, the girl narrowed her eyes—and then when Zoe looked back at their quarry, she suddenly leapt to the side—right into Zoe. Coiling around Zoe, she quickly clambered up to her shoulders. Zoe was so surprised that she didn’t even protest or attempt to knock her off.

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“So this way,” Millie yelled directly into her ear, “You can run around and hit things close up while I can ride up top and shoot easier.”

Huh. Honestly, that wasn’t a bad idea. In fact—well, at first Zoe thought it wouldn’t work in a serious fight because Millie was far, far weaker—but then she came to the conclusion that it might be easier to protect the kid this way. She wouldn’t have to be constantly worried about where she was and what was happening to her.

And if things got too nasty where Zoe was, it wouldn’t take much time or effort to throw her out of the way.

More than doubling her pace, Zoe came up beside the boar. Slowing back down, she kept it trapped between herself and the river. The monsters all seemed to know that the water was dangerous.

It took two more arrows to fell the beast. Coming to a stop, Zoe peered at it as Millie clambered back down. “It’s technically still alive.”

The girl just grunted and withdrew her knife. Zoe watched unfazed as the child finished the job. Definitely not squeamish. It made sense of course—the girl was adept at surviving alone in the wilderness and had already had a run in with infernal cultists. She definitely wasn’t sheltered.

Seeing as Millie had already had a breakfast of fruit an hour or two ago, Zoe took the whole carcass for herself. Her mana was full, but it never hurt to be a little bit overcapped. At the same time, Millie washed her retrieved arrows off in the river—though she was careful not to touch the waster herself.

Holding up the hundred-plus kilo corpse with one hand, Zoe studied it. Her {Devour} ability hadn’t leveled up in a while. Or at least, a while compared to how she was used to leveling things. In the previous days, she had finally maxed out {Meditation}—courtesy of Millie, of course—leveled up {Corrupted Strike} twice and {Morph} once, and {Thermal Manipulation} three times. Next she intended to work on {Corrupt Wound}. It was her most efficient self-healing method at the moment, and it was still only level 2.

She would probably have to repeatedly mutilate herself, but that was no biggie.

Zoe devoured the corpse.

Nothing could hurt him. The sloths and their cloths were powerless to scratch his hide. The vines could lash him, but their sweet, stinging petals could not eat through his flesh like the others. Even the stick carriers—the tall ones with two legs, swinging sharp sticks and hurling stones could not batter nor pierce him.

He knew to stay away from them nonetheless. He knew not how, but deep in his bones he knew that they would find a way where all other assailants had failed. His strength and power rendered him invulnerable to their attacks, but he fled anyway. As long as he gave them no reason to pursue far, did not fight back, he would be safe. They could not harm him.

Even the river was no barrier to his passage. Where the other beasts shied away, he swam. He knew not to drink. The water bit at his lips, stinging, drying, puckering. He did not drink, and he was safe.

He feared not the darkness, and this was his undoing. For when vines lashed him in the darkness, they did not let go like before. And when the scuttling ones in the darkness seized him, he was powerless to resist. His strength failed.

Only the light saved him. The stick carriers and their flames—unfocused on him, unlike before—their own struggled set him free. Their tracks guided his way.

But he was not the same. The sloths and their claws tore him. The vines stung him. Even the sticks prodded and punctured him, and he dared not swim. But his strength was not gone—only weakened. It was starved, and so it must eat. Thus, despite his new weakness, he fought. He killed. And little by little, day by day, his strength was returning.

When the little stick carrier awoke him, he thought her to be easy prey. The little ones were never dangerous, never strong. Her attack came as a terrible surprise—she had fought back, and so he fled. His strength had still not returned enough to assure he would prevail.

He had failed to account for the dark one.

He could not fight her. Down to his bones, he knew that she would tear him asunder with the same ease he used to tear through the weeds, even had he been possessed of all his former strength. But he could still run. He had dared not swim, but now, with terror on his other flank, he should—

But the little one was still there, she was following, she struck again, and then—

Gasping for air, Zoe wretched onto the sand. Thick, pitch black, but oily and iridescent bile splattered the sand. She was vaguely aware of Millie hesitantly reaching out to her. It felt worse than anything before. Even her demonic ascension or her initial corruption hadn’t left her so ill and disoriented.

{Devour has leveled up! Devour is now level 5.}

{You have devoured an entity possessing a useful durability trait. Consume more similar enemies to gain a new trait.}

Crawling back to her feet, Zoe sniffed. Millie looked unsure what to say. What the hell was that?