Alan walked almost in a daze. Killing humans was certainly different. But why? Was he a hypocrite? Having ended a whole clan of kobolds in cold blood, high on strange ancient battle drugs, and here he was feeling bad about a couple of humans.

Roger’s checkered shirt was thrown over his bag; extra shirts were always nice. He didn’t know how the weather could change, but he wanted to have something extra. It was large and soft and could also serve as a blanket or pillow. His current reinforced attire and leather armor were holding out quite well, but finding another set would not be easy.

He had considered taking the man’s pants too but that was too much. He was not that unhinged.

Still, looting the dead people had been an almost automatic response after the fight. It was proper, no? They wouldn’t need their things where they were going.

Was there an afterlife in a System-run world? He didn’t want to find out.

It had still felt wrong to take their things. More wrong than killing them.

They didn’t have much apart from weapons and clothes. Maybe Roger was not lying and there was a Sanctuary nearby? If they belonged to it, he would have to be careful. He had no clue how a Sanctuary worked and if there were any rules governing it, but walking in with the blood-splattered shirt of one of its inhabitants didn’t seem like the smartest thing to do.

He went down the stream and stopped at a particularly nice place, which allowed him to wash the shirt and try to clean some of his own clothes and armor a bit too. He paid special attention to his boots.

Next, he cleaned his weapons. The dried layers of kobold remains were not a good message to send to anyone he met. At least if he didn’t want to scare them… and would scaring them be that bad?

Ah, this is getting frustrating.

It took some scrubbing a piece of the clean cloth he had taken to use for bandages. There would never be enough bandages.

After a short rest, a meal, staring into the flowing river, and contemplating the fragility of life, Alan stood up and kept walking.

The sun was starting to come down, and he didn’t want to spend the night in the forest considering his previous experiences, but there was no sign of other humans or anything remotely looking like a Sanctuary.

He passed by a few more beasts, even a monkey-like thing with claws that went way past the useful length. The System really liked to give things long claws for some reason.

What was curious was how the beasts seemed to be avoiding him since he chose his class. Smarter than humans.

Alan upped his pace as much as he could without wasting his mana in conversion. His stamina would last him a few minutes at most by itself.

He followed the stream for a few hours, without noticing any change in scenery. He slowed down a few times, trying to remember the details of the place they had met Davis. If he found it, he would at least know the general direction of the lake.

If this was the same stream at all. It was as narrow as he remembered it and deep enough to cause confusion. Almost as if the river was moving sideways.

The forest was growing even denser now, and the trees didn’t seem to mind the stream, having taken residence directly next to it. Alan stopped at a particularly picturesque place. Weathered stones framed both sides of the small stream, perfectly positioned to let the water move through, creating grooves and shelters for smaller animals. And around them rings of dense trees, making it almost impossible for something large to sneak up.

Alan climbed up on one of the flatter rocks and settled himself in a nook from which the only thing he could see was the running water in front of him and the branches intertwining above him. It was as good a shelter as any.

It would take a lot of effort for anyone or anything to reach him without making noise.

There was also enough space for him to lie comfortably, he bundled the still-wet shirt like a pillow and laid his head upon it.

Settled down he could finally appreciate the forest. The first few nights it had been dead, but now life made itself known from every direction. Insects buzzed around, there were calls and songs of various birds, and even the tree leaves pulsed with soft symphony created by the air currents weaving in and out through the green tunnels above.

It was peaceful.

Alan tried to relax, to close his eyes. When had been the last time he could sit and appreciate nature? How long has it been? He used to love nature, but his love had turned into indifference somewhere along the way. It was the same with comic books, literature, and even shows.

All that gave him joy in his adult life had been coffee and music.

Ah, how he missed music.

The faces of the three dead he had left behind flashed in his mind and Alan’s eyes shot open. He shook his head. Would they haunt him now? Would his subconsciousness bring them back to life only for the sake of torturing him?

It was quite tragically funny if that would be the case. Alan had never put much thought into how fragile even normal humans were. He had struggled with his condition most of his life, cursing fate, cursing luck, cursing people who probably didn’t deserve it.

Now he had ended three human lives in a matter of minutes. They deserved it, obviously. It was him or them! There was no police to call or justice to be had in this new world.

Maybe in Sanctuaries? He shuddered at the thought of how people would probably try to create some sort of government similar to the one there was on Earth. It was bound to go badly.

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You do not govern a bunch of superhumans the same you do a bunch of regular people struggling in the system you created or supported.

All it would take is one person with a strong class and strong opinions to make it all go to hell. Or someone like Florence, who could probably rile up a whole army if she was left to grow enough.

Alan couldn’t wait to see the shit show. An elaborate social experiment he was dying to watch from afar.

Killing people had been so easy though. He felt almost fine now, although his thoughts kept running away and focusing on them.

Fuck.

The demon was silent and Alan gave up on chasing away his scattered thoughts of murder and morality. It was still early for sleep and Alan doubted it would come for him at all tonight.

Every flickering shadow was an enemy ready to kill him, every sound that stood out from the symphony of the forest was a monster coming to eat him.

“Fuck me.”

Alan stood up.

There was one thing he could do to pass the time.

The skill [Ritual: Enchanted Bones] was something he had put off for quite a while. He had the special chalk and he had mana stones, thanks to Ig-Thun; all he needed was fresh beast blood and to not fuck things up too badly.

The skill itself gave him the knowledge needed to perform the ritual. It wouldn’t take a lot of time to find a beast and kill it, and the ritual itself would be a short affair if he only targeted a finger bone or something.

Alan stood up and left his bag and a small bundle of leftover food. Hopefully, they would still be here when he came back, although he didn’t plan to go far.

He wouldn’t be able to find his way if he strayed a lot from the stream, and the sun would be completely gone soon. Thankfully he still had the beetles in their woven cages, which seemed to have slept most of the day. He was worried they had died, but that seemed unlikely.

It didn’t take him long to find a pair of Dusk Wolves drinking water. They snarled at him and took a few steps back as he got close.

Alan hesitated. If they did not attack, was it alright to kill them just for his weird and creepy ritual? It was probably better to find something he could also eat.

Do I even know how to start a fire? I used to as a kid.

He sighed and turned away, leaving the wolves be.

The thought of using one of the humans he had killed for the ritual crossed his mind. Would that be wrong? Surely it was the same if it was human or beast heart’s blood. At least the humans deserved it.

The corpses were probably already beset by the maggots; they seemed to be working overtime in this forest and he wouldn’t be able to go and retrieve them. Not that he intended to.

With another sigh, Alan walked back to the rocks where he had left his things. Thankfully they were still there.

“Hey Xil,” he called, “Are you sleeping?”

There was no answer nor trace of the demon forming a channel they could speak through. Was it ignoring him or did it really need to sleep?

It was still hard to imagine the Xil was a demon. Alan probably wouldn’t believe it until he saw it with his own two eyes. What were demons in this world anyway?

Alan closed his eyes and focused on the sounds of the forest.

It was sometime later, in the dead of the night, when he woke up startled.

Screaming tore through the night and it sounded human. It was closing, really fast.

Too fast.

Alan packed his things in a haste and grabbed his spear. He took one of the woven moon beetle prisons and attached it to his spear, leaving the other two on his belt. They would give away his position, but he needed to see if he was to fight.

Another scream, even closer. It was cut off prematurely, and silence descended once again upon the forest. Was the owner of those screams dead? If so, what had killed them?

Should I go out and check, or stay and hope it won’t find me?

Alan took deep, slow, even breaths.

The silence was deafening. No insects were buzzing around or birds giving off their calls in the night. But it was also a different type of silence than the one from the first few nights.

This felt dangerous. Really, really dangerous.

Was it one of the horrors?

There was a splash of water as if something fell into the small stream, just meters away from his hiding place. Alan prepared [Synaptic Failure], planning to fuck up the brain of anyone or anything that dared appear before him.

He stood still.

Another scream, almost next to him tore through the silence and Alan grasped at his ears, as pain shot through his head. It sounded just like a woman, and just like the other screams, only this time it physically hurt him.

“Fuck!”

“Above you!” Xil’s voice warned, having made the connection without Alan even noticing.

Alan didn’t wait for a second warning and threw himself towards the rock just in time as something fell where he had been.

Under the pale blue light from the moon beetles Alan saw a humanoid creature with a flat head and many eyeholes, only some of them having actual eyes in them. This one had three. It stood crouching, its front limbs supporting the light torso on its knuckles. Its legs bent, ready for a jump. The creature’s skin looked rotting, and Alan saw some maggots wiggle in it.

It stood staring and even tilted its head like a puppy.

Alan let go of the prepared [Synaptic Failure], felt the skill hit, and then nothing happened. There was no further feedback and the creature seemed to get agitated.

Its mouth opened wider than it looked possible, revealing a toothless mouth.

It’s about to scream!

The space was too tight for his spear, but his head would explode if he took one of those screams head-on. He used the spear sideways and jabbed it into the thing's toothless mouth, pushing it against the rock on the other side.

It was surprisingly easy, as the creature didn’t struggle at all. Instead, the spear shaft wedged sideways into its mouth seemed to sink further and further into its flesh, until the mouth was free once again, and the spear was wedged in its head.

What the fuck?!

“Make it silent!” Alan screamed.

He felt the vibrations of the scream, but Xil’s [Soundless] seemed to have gone off first.

Alan took out one of his daggers and swung. He cut at the neck of the still screaming creature. It was easy, and the head separated. What remained was a hollow stump of a neck.

Suddenly, the creature pushed Alan and he hit his back on the rock he had been leaning on until a few seconds ago. Its cut neck seemed to wiggle as it reformed into a wide toothless mouth.

[Soundless] was still on so the scream achieved nothing.

Alan cursed, and unable to hear his own words, sent a [Shadow Slash] at the thing’s torso, then another, and a third for good measure.

The blades sliced into the creature and it fell apart, a shower of maggots and pieces of rotten flesh, making Alan flinch. Something round, covered in the wiggling grey worms fell to the ground from one half of the thing’s chest. The few closer ones started steaming as if they were burning, then blackened and dried out.

Alan reached for the beetle cages on his waist, unhooked one of them, and got it closer to the wiggling mess, careful to not step on any maggots.

They all shriveled and died the same.

You have slain Wailing Carrion (22)

The silence was gone now.

“I was born in the demon realm, and let me tell you, the human world isn’t lacking,” Xil said.

Alan stared at the mess, feeling sick, “Is this even a human world?”

“It certainly is fucked enough.”

“Tell me about it.”

The creature had been surprisingly weak, mostly due to its stupidity. It certainly had strength in its body, but it had tried again and again to attack by screaming. It would have probably succeeded too if not for Xil’Garoth. More screams echoed in the distance carrying through the forest and making his hair stand up.

Alan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Moonlight shone through the treetops, much weaker than he remembered.

Maybe the trees were just denser. He looked up, catching a glimpse of the big moon peeking between the canopy above.

The moon? Weren’t there two?