On his first night in the wilderness, Harrow learned a couple of important things. Nights were unusually long in this realm. Secondly, hyenas had keener senses than your average coyote. Far more savage too.
Lightning rushed through his mind as he exerted all his strength, ramming the obsidian dagger deeper into a hyena's skull. Red, hot blood oozed from the wounds. For one last time, the beast howled, its clawing waning its work on his dark cloak.
Harrow had no time to utilise Sacrifice, as another one of its companions crashed into him, its savage claw tearing through the [Cloak of Night]. Pain struck as soon as it grazed his skin, but it wasn’t anything unique, since he had been enduring it for some time now.
The hyena had thrown him onto the ground, its claw raking his skin without missing a beat. Harrow rammed a stammering kick into its abdomen, forcing it away, when another one attacked. He twisted his body to intercept it and was thrown to the ground again, only this time he managed to plunge Duskripper into its body.
Sadly, he only found purchase on its side. Suppressing a groan with gritted teeth, Harrow yanked the blade free and rammed it into a more critical place: the underside of its jaw.
[Cloak of Night] did not consume much energy when utilised normally, but under the duress of so many beasts, it was being torn apart and damaged non-stop. It was consuming far more energy than it restored. The only reason Harrow could keep it on was the essence he plundered from his defeated foes.
It was also the reason he could continue fighting without rest.
The rabid beast weakened, and this time he triggered Sacrifice. But Harrow couldn’t waste even a breath to see the satisfying look of the creature disappearing. He slipped beneath its body before it melted away into a burst of light and mist.
The other hyena shot at him again, having no fear for its life. Harrow glided under it, swiping the onyx blade to draw blood. It howled with a large cut on its underside. The beast probably would have died of prolonged blood loss.
Harrow ended it by slitting its throat. Hot blood rushed out, smearing his cloaked arms, though it did not linger on his body.
[You have slain five Unformed Hyenas.]
[Unformed Core: 7/100]
[Plundered: Common Skill Matrix.]
[Bestial Reflexes (Common): +8]
[Cloak of Night (Elite): +5]
Harrow gasped for breath, lying flat next to the beast. This was far deadlier than the first encounter he’d had with a hyena. And yet it felt less stressful. A couple of good skills surely made a lot of difference. Though he could not deny that without Duskripper, the whole endeavour would have been impossibly difficult.
“I wonder how those people advance within a week,” he couldn’t help but think. He had been fighting beasts and killing them all night and had barely reached 7% completion. Progress was supposed to get more demanding the higher an Awakened went.
Shaking his head at those discouraging thoughts, he checked on his loot. The first hyena didn’t drop anything, but the others did: two red gems. He didn’t even prod for their details before bolting away from the open.
Securing himself under a gnarled tree, he finally checked the loot and shook his head.
[Skill: Bestial Reflexes (Common)]
[Skill: Bestial Reflexes (Common)]
The same skill again, he thought in distraught, before storing them with the others he had collected throughout the night. Counting these two, he now had seven of them. He’d gotten two from a large pack of coyotes, and all the rest came from the hyenas.
It was funny how he had agonised over skills just a few hours ago, and now he had seven skill crystals, albeit of the same type.
Harrow held Duskripper before his eyes as a stray thought occurred to him. There was no way his father—who had left him the relic—didn’t know about its functions. Could it be that he left it knowing I would have to face this ordeal?
Is he the reason I am facing the ordeal? His clutch on the weapon tightened. Harrow clenched and unclenched his jaw.
A high-pitched screech brought him out of his thoughts.
A humongous bat, its body spanning over a metre long without its wiry wings spread, swooped down and began devouring the hyenas he hadn’t fed to his weapon. It wasn’t the first time one of them came after the bait. The first creatures to tug at his baits were bats, but Harrow didn’t mess with them, considering their evident advantage. On top of that, bats were scary. Simply staring into their eyes made his blood grow cold.
Then again, after fighting almost the whole night, Harrow only had seven common skill crystals to show for it, which he couldn’t even use.
Looking at the bat’s eyes as it gobbled up the hyena, he was almost certain it would give a different skill.
With that thought, Harrow crept behind the creature, utilizing the [Cloak of Night] to its fullest. He didn’t believe the quick decision he came to had much to do with the revelation he had a moment ago, nor did he think it was rash.
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It was a completely rational decision to gather as many skills as possible to empower himself.
Harrow lunged at the creature, weapon drawn. The bat faltered mid-meal, and spread its wiry limbs. It craned its neck, eyes glaring red.
The ascended relic pierced into the bat’s wing. The creature tried to flap it away, trying to deflect, which only caused the wing to rupture. It shrieked, lunging at him, its filthy maw already munching on flesh, opened to bite him.
Harrow smashed his other fist into the side of its head. He thought that would deflect its assault, which it did, but it also did more than he intended. The bat crashed onto the ground from the impact of the punch.
Was I fearing them for no reason? Before the answer came, the bat flapped its wings, preparing to withdraw, or use the aerial route to its advantage.
No, you are not going anywhere!
Harrow leapt to clutch its leg, and yanked, using his weight to anchor it down. Unfortunately, the bat was huge and managed to carry him a metre or two into the air before its ruptured wings restricted it from flying further.
Jerking wildly as he hung on, he brought the beast down, crashing it into a tree. The monster was already muddleheaded and only managed a shriek when his blade into its chest.
That did it. The bat fell, screeching in existential agony. Sacrifice triggered, and Harrow didn't need to exert any more force. He watched as the horrifying creature, terrifying enough to instil fear in his heart, melted into the fog.
[You have slain an Unformed creature: Cavern Bat.]
I guess perspective matters, he thought. Although it was intimidating to look at, the bat was nothing more than a huge winged mouse.
[Plundered: Common Skill Matrix.]
Another red gem. Harrow picked it up, praying inwardly for it to be something other than [Bestial Reflexes].
[Would you like to assimilate the skill: Nocturnal Vision?]
[Y | N]
He raised an eyebrow. I guess, why not?
Thankfully, the prompt wasn’t accepted immediately. Harrow quickly withdrew to somewhere safer, far away from the mess he created, before confirming his choice.
Pain he was prepared for, and it consumed him, though it wasn’t as intense as the first time. He thought it would end there, but that was where he made a mistake. An impaling throb torched his eyes, horrible and incessant. He was unable to suppress his scream.
Tears fell from his eyes as tiny, bug-like creatures crawled within them—or at least, that was how it felt. Harrow controlled the overwhelming urge to poke at his eyes, and kill those creatures that were tormenting him, but it would only worsen the agony.
Shutting his eyes tightly lessened the pain, and soon it dulled entirely. Then, the relieving voice of the Primordial Order rang out.
[Skill gained: Nocturnal Vision (Common): +1]
Controlling his ragged breathing, he tentatively opened his eyes. The world had changed since the last time they were open. If he’d thought a common skill wouldn’t make much of a difference, he was utterly wrong.
Not only could he now see everything near-perfectly in his vicinity, but his vision had also shifted to a monochrome view. He hoped this effect was only evident during the night. If his sight remained like this all the time, he feared he’d lose his mind.
I’ll figure that out soon enough, he thought.
No more packs of hyenas came, but he did hunt down a couple of foxes before the sun suddenly rose. Almost like an essence lamp, it flared to life too abruptly, piercing through the thick mist and fog.
[Cloak of Night] shut off, its shadowy substance peeling away from his body like water slipping off taro leaves. The harder he tried to cling to the skill, the more energy it consumed. In the end, all the improvement he made in this single night wasn't enough.
His clothes were smeared with blood, though hardly any of it had come from his own body while the cloak had been active.
What annoyed him was that colours did not return to him with the sunrise. Everything was too bright to look at. With some prodding, Harrow managed to calm down the glaring light and eventually managed to forcibly turn off [Nocturnal Vision]. The trick was to cut off the essence supply from his core. Finally, his sight got back to normal, much to his relief.
[Nocturnal Vision (Common): +3]
7% progress seems good enough for the first day, he thought, carrying a dead fox over his shoulder. Whom am I kidding, 7% is outright crazy. A third of that would have been his goal if he was in his ideal position. But you know what they say, threat to one's life was a great motivator.
He planned to have the fox skinned and roast it if he could. Fruit and berries were fine, but his body needed a fair share of meat—Awakened beast meat, no less. It was so expensive that he’d only eaten it once in his life. Living in the orphanage had made him pretty much a herbivore.
Well, soon it’ll be twice.
This wilderness was full of Awakened beasts. Even the lowliest creatures were Awakened, albeit Unformed. Only the great serpent he’d glimpsed for a brief moment had likely gone through Formation. Perhaps it was even beyond that.
Honestly, he was too hungry and uneducated to dwell on it.
Half an hour later, he was back in the abandoned farmland and began preparing the fox for roasting. Having worked a couple of years under the local butcher, skinning it posed no trouble. The cooking part, however...
He knew a few things about cooking, which prompted him to gather some fruits and berries for seasoning. He’d heard that unripe papaya extracts could soften meat. It worked with regular meat, whether it would have any effect on Awakened meat, he was about to find out.
Making fire was easier than he thought. Grating the dagger onto a smooth stone created sparks. He only needed some dry leaves from there.
Whistling poorly, he set the meat over the fire and watched with unabashed enthusiasm. There were small joys in the act, even if he wasn’t particularly skilled at it. If the meat turned out bad, it would be his fault alone. But there wouldn’t be anyone around to berate him.
Solas, he thought, is this what it feels like to be grown up?
Harrow was minding his own business, occasionally checking on the meat, licking his lips, when he sensed a disturbance behind him. He turned sharply, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the thick undergrowth. He could see the gnarled bush moving, but before he go and check, something flew out of it.
A small object darted through the air, moving at a terrifying speed. Harrow tried to duck, but it struck his torso with a sharp sting.
He yanked it free and found a dart. A wave of cold spread through his neck almost instantly. His expression turned ugly as utter terror gripped him.
A man rose from the bushes, holding a long-piped blowgun. He cackled, the sound jarring in the stillness. The pot-bellied man stood about twenty metres away, grinning wickedly, malice in his eyes. He aimed again, firing another dart—this one into Harrow’s neck. Harrow saw it coming, but his body was too slow to react.
A deep, crushing weakness overwhelmed him, and he fell to his knees.
Paralysing drugs? His thoughts raced. Will Toxin Tolerance work against these?
“The Lord has finally shown me his favour,” the man snickered, his voice drawing nearer. “This lad will last a week if I keep him hidden from the others…”
Harrow’s vision blurred, his head growing heavy. He could hear the man muttering, but the words didn’t register. But he knew for sure whatever his captor planned, it wouldn’t be good. He knew that look all too clearly.
Helpless, he collapsed, and could only hope his skill could somehow neutralise whatever had been injected with. Then, darkness claimed him.