Chapter 18: Wings of Fate

The air was thick with tension as Marcos’s group prepared to leave. Everyone stood ready, their bodies covered with hastily fashioned armor made from the remnants of the monsters they'd killed. Beetle carapaces were strapped to their backs, bee legs woven into crude shields, and metallic chains from the steampunk bees looped around arms and torsos. The weight of recent battles hung heavy over them, not just in their attire but in their expressions—hardened by fear and death.

Niko, however, felt disconnected from the group. While others had scavenged monster parts to bolster their defenses, he hadn’t gathered anything. He was cautious not to overburden himself, especially since hunger and fatigue were already setting in. His body, though restored by the strange forces of this new world, still lacked the stamina he desperately needed. Unlike the others, who were busy looting, Niko had spent the past hour experimenting with his skills, trying to understand the limits of [Celestial Probe I].

The mantis corpse served as a perfect subject. As Niko probed it, he felt a mental strain gnawing at the edges of his consciousness. Although the skill didn’t drain his mana, using it repeatedly left him mentally exhausted. He tested its range, discovering it extended three to five meters at most—a limitation that could spell danger in the wrong situation.

But what fascinated him more was his growing connection to the invisible Steampunk Bee Spirit hovering at his side. Though unseen, Niko could sense its presence as if it were an extension of his own body. “Could I see through its eyes?” he wondered. The potential for stealth attacks excited him. If he could perfect this link, he’d have an ace up his sleeve in combat—one he would need to master if he had any hope of surviving long enough to find his sister.

As Niko pondered the possibilities, Marcos’s commanding voice broke through his thoughts. “Alright, everyone, listen up!” Marcos stood at the head of the group, his stance strong and authoritative. “It’s going to take nearly an entire day to reach the settlement. We’ll be taking a detour through unranked layers to avoid the ranked ones. If we went straight, it would take us about seven hours, but we’d have to pass through several dangerous ranked layers. Most of you wouldn’t make it.”

The gravity of Marcos’s words hung in the air, thick with the unspoken reality of their situation. "The settlement is nestled between unranked and ranked zones. West of the settlement are the dangerous ranked areas. East is safer, but don’t let your guard down, even in the unranked layers.”

The group, still recovering from the earlier fight with the mantis, nodded grimly and began their long march, following closely behind Marcos. Hours passed, the silence of the trek broken only by the rhythmic sound of their footsteps. Every now and then, Marcos would stop, distribute food and water from his inventory, and offer words of caution. But the mood was somber. The earlier adrenaline rush had faded, leaving behind a deep, uneasy quiet. Most of the recruits walked with their heads down, lost in the enormity of their situation. The reality that they might never return home to Earth weighed heavily on their minds.

Niko kept pace with his small group—Louis, Simon, and Maria—listening carefully whenever Marcos spoke. His words, though few, held valuable insights about this strange new world they now inhabited.

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“The human settlement isn’t large,” Marcos explained during one of their rest stops, “but it’s well-protected. It can house a few hundred people, but right now, the population is much smaller due to... the high mortality rate. The settlement sits at the foot of a mountain, giving us some natural defenses.”

Niko’s mind was abuzz with questions. He had so much to learn about this world, yet time was never on his side. As they walked through the fading daylight, he couldn’t shake his curiosity about the day and night cycle. How did it work in a world that was supposedly a flat plane? Did it mimic Earth’s? These thoughts nagged at him, but fatigue was beginning to gnaw at him even more. He regretted not capturing one of the beetles for a ride—his legs ached with every step.

Suddenly, a high-pitched screech pierced the air.

“Kyaaah!”

A massive bird, its wingspan easily the length of two cars, descended from the sky at breakneck speed. Its feathers were dull, the color of dirt, and its beak gleamed like rusted metal. The bird looked like a twisted version of a pigeon, but much more menacing.

“Crouch!” Marcos barked, but it was too late. The bird’s speed was blinding. In a flash, it seized Mamadi in its talons and soared back into the sky, his screams echoing through the grasslands.

“Help! Please, someone help me!!”

The bird struggled to maintain its height with Mamadi thrashing in its grasp, but it climbed steadily higher. The group stood frozen, panic gripping them.

“Long-range attackers! Do something!” Marcos shouted, his voice urgent.

But the bird was already too far above. The distance made it impossible for most of them to act. Niko glanced at his spirits, knowing none of them could fly fast enough to catch up.

Just when hope seemed lost, a streak of ice shot through the air.

Bang!

An ice spear pierced the bird’s neck with a sickening crack, and it plummeted from the sky, its body spiraling uncontrollably as Mamadi screamed in terror. They watched in horror as both bird and man hurtled toward the earth, crashing into the ground with a heavy thud.

Mamadi’s body lay limp, broken.

The group turned toward the source of the ice spear. A woman in armor similar to Marcos’s stepped forward, followed by two men. One was a hulking figure with bronze skin—the bull-like man Niko had seen in the preparation world. The woman’s sharp features and piercing eyes gave her an air of command.

“Marcos, these are all beginners?” she asked, her tone laced with disdain.

The group gathered around Mamadi’s motionless body. His legs were mangled, little more than a bloody mess, and his shoulders were torn open, deep gashes from the bird’s talons leaving him on the brink of death.

Marcos knelt beside Mamadi, his face unreadable. “He won’t make it,” he said flatly.

Simon, desperate to help, summoned his healing candle once more. The faint blue light bathed Mamadi, healing his shoulders slightly, but the damage to his legs was too severe.

“It’s no use,” the woman said coldly. “He’s done for.”

Niko stood in silence, staring at Mamadi’s broken body. Death had come swiftly, without warning. The randomness of it was terrifying—one moment, you’re walking, the next, you’re gone.

“We move on,” the woman commanded. Her voice was icy, detached. “There’s no point staying here.”

With that, the group turned and left Mamadi’s body behind, along with the carcass of the monstrous bird.

Niko’s heart pounded as he walked. He hadn’t known Mamadi well, but the casual way they abandoned his body unsettled him. Was this what it meant to survive here? To become so desensitized to death that it didn’t faze you anymore? He felt no sadness, no grief—just a growing sense of detachment.

“Am I becoming a monster too?” he wondered.

This world was changing him, piece by piece. Whether that was a good thing or not, only time would tell.