Dex raised the torch, tilting its guard to the ground, then drove it deep into the unconscious lurker's chest. The creature jolted awake with a violent spasm, releasing pained screeches. It tried to swipe at Dex, but he pinned its lethal appendage under his foot.

Dex shouted, "Just die! Die! damn it!" Pressing his full weight down, he drove the torch deeper until the creature's life finally sputtered out.

Dex held his breath, leaning closer to ensure the depth-dwelling creature was dead. He exhaled heavily after seeing it remain still.

The creature's face was frozen in agony. Dex looked down at it, his expression hardening. After a deep breath, he reached for its limb; he needed a weapon.

Using its own scythe-like arm, Dex hacked the creature's other arm at the joint where the scythe-appendage meets the rest of its arm.

Dex tightened his grip around the base of the appendage, feeling the tension at the joint as a trickle of blood joined the pool already spreading beneath him. The grip was uncomfortable—too short, and the blade was larger than he preferred. He had always favored the agility of short swords and daggers, but in a survival situation, one couldn't be too picky.

"Well..." he exhaled heavily. "Let's get in there."

With a brave face, he sliced into the creature's abdomen. The stench hit him immediately, a mix of rot and rancid fish. From what Dex remembered about harvesting cores, he needed to cut the creature open and—

Peeling back the flesh, he discovered numerous spherical orbs nestled among the lurker's innards. One by one, he pulled out the cores, each swirling with faint light mingling within the cloudy darkness, until seven palm-sized cores rested on the ice.

In nightmare creatures, the number of cores signified their level of maturity within their rank. For example, a Dormant lurker with seven cores is at the apex of its rank, making it more advanced than another Dormant lurker with just a single core.

Slowly, he absorbed the cores. It felt as if his body warmed slightly with each one. He barely noticed any significant difference. Consuming cores from creatures was supposed to make him stronger, so it was disappointing when the expected surge of power didn't arrive.

He lifted his head. To his surprise, the lights he'd seen earlier were gone, but a smile lingered on his face. At least he wouldn't have to eat bugs---he could have real meat instead.

With that, he grabbed the larger blue lurker by the ankle and began dragging its body toward the cluster of trees, where he would try, once again, to start a fire.

Heavy bastard...

Dex kept his grip firm as he moved. The weight of the lurker's body dragged behind him, its remaining scythe-like arm scraping against the ice.

"Run!"

The word pierced through the air. it was faint, yet it wormed its way into his skull demanding his attention.

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Dex froze. His pulse skipped. He wasn't alone.

"Wha---"

Before even move or speak to the voice he heard, the ice beneath him erupted.

Boom!

The ice burst into slivers, scattering into the air. Dex was thrown off his feet. Landing he hit his head on the ice, his head smacking with a deafening crack on the ice.

Behind his eyelids was a realm of darkness and exploding stars as pain shot through his skull. He struggled immensely to stand. Dex groaned as he stumbled to his feet. Raising a hand to his head, he winced. pulling his fingers back they were painted in his warm blood.

Dex eyes widened as a creature emerged from the icy lake. It was unmistakable, it was one of the Lurker species. Dex could just tell from its presence alone that it was a higher rank them himself, easily Awakened, possibly Fallen.

This lurker had a far more robust build than the others he had encountered. Its teeth and fins were much more pronounced and menacing. However, its most notable feature was a glowing green lure that dangled from its head, bathing its face and upper body in a green light. Unlike the other lurkers, this one wore ornaments on its body: around its neck hung a black gem that looked like a piece of the night sky itself. Beneath it lay another necklace, this one forged from material resembling crystal.

Dex's head throbbed, but he raised the scythe-like appendage, readying himself to fight.

"You can't fight it!" the female voice shouted.

Dex groaned, keeping his blade raised as he turned his head. "Who the fuck are you?"

The mysterious girl was bundled in layers upon layers of clothing. Even her face was covered by a cloth mask.

"That doesn't matter! You can't win against a creature of that rank!"

Dex glanced back at the creature. Studying its size---along with his current condition, he came to the conclusion that this stranger was probably right.

"Then what's your plan?" Dex asked.

"Lower your weapon and back away. Trust me," she said.

Trust? Who the hell was she to demand his trust? His head throbbed again; a sharp pulse of pain that made him surrender his thoughts.

"Alright..." Dex muttered, reluctantly lowering his blade, his eyes never leaving the creature.

A strange thing occurred: the devil stood still. Instead of attacking, it slipped back into the water, its lure's glow fading into the depths.

Huh... she was right.

Dex raised his hand to his head as it throbbed painfully. A soft whimper escaped his lips as he struggled to push through the pain.

"Are you okay?" A voice, light with concern came from the mysterious girl as she inched closer

"My head feels like it is going to explode out of my goddamn head!" Dex replied, each word compounded with frustration and discomfort.

"Let me see..." she asked.

With a heavy sigh, Dex began to unravel the [Sycophant's Enshroudment]. The tension he felt almost complete subsided as the tight dark wrappings slackened, and with it, a sudden warm river of blood began to run down the side of his head.

She leaned in closer. "Hmm..."

As she reached out to touch the side of his head, he flinched. Quickly, the girl drew her hand back.

What the hell do you think you are doing? Dex shouted internally.

"Sorry..." she spoke lightly, just above a whisper as she turned away from him.

Then, suddenly a wardrobe materialized before her. She approached it, pausing for a moment.

"I'll be right back, shortly," she said.

***

Time stretched, several moments felt like an eternity before she finally came out of the wardrobe. In her hand she clutched a lantern and in the other a medkit.

"Hold this..." she said, thrusting the lantern toward him.

Dex held the lantern, turning his head to look at the wardrobe. "What is that?"

"Don't move," She replied firmly. Dex complied, keeping his head still while she tended to the wound on his head. "It's a storage memory."

"Can you sleep in it?" he asked, half-jokingly, but in reality, he was curious.

"You could... But it's not exactly a durable memory," She tilted his head to the side a bit more. "It's only Dormant. It can't hold things higher than its rank for too long, or it will break. Who knows what will happen if you were asleep while that happens..."

Dex chuckled nervously, "Oh shit, never mind then."

An awkward silence settled between them as she continued working to clean his wound.

"I didn't catch your name. I'm Dex," he said, breaking the stillness.

Ka--Esmeray... You can call me Esmeray," she replied, as she finished dressing his wound, securing a bandage with ease. Just then, a low growl from his stomach followed shortly after.

"I am hungry too," she murmured subconsciously, her eyes darting away as if embarrassed.

Dex turned around sharply, "That damned devil took my food with it?"

"I have food in my wardrobe, " she turned back to him. "But it's dehydrated... So, we need to find a place to camp."

"We?" Dex echoed, a pink flush creeping to his cheeks.

"I'm not a fighter, but you are." She pointed at him, her gaze unfaltering. "I have the food and the tools, and you have the fighting capability."

Dex knew hardly anything about this mysterious girl---only her name, Esmeray, and allure that her resources had, food, medical supplies, and tools that proved that she was well prepared for the Dream Realm. Her words there, spoke of an agreement, she was willing to share her resources, but only if he assumed the role of her protector---her guard, her war dog.

He let out a sigh; he couldn’t deny the appeal of guaranteed meals. "Alright..." he conceded.