The smell of blood reeked in the air, a pungent and sticky scent that clung to our clothes, our skin, every corner of the battlefield. The corpses of the chimera and its fragments littered the ground, limbs twisted at impossible angles, their mutated flesh still smoking under the waning light of day. The silence that followed the monster's death did not last. A distant rustling, the cracking of branches… something was approaching.
Jules was the first to break the stupor. His gaze scanned the darkness between the trees, his jaw clenched.
"We need to move."
His voice was hoarse, tense. He didn't need to explain why. We all knew. Blood and shredded flesh would inevitably attract other creatures. And in our current state, we couldn't afford another fight here.
I forced myself to stand, my body protesting vehemently. Around me, the others moved slowly, fatigue and pain hindering every motion. But we had no luxury to hesitate.
Before leaving, an impulse drove me to open the notification interface blinking in the corner of my vision.
You have defeated a [Chimera Xylorath (Evolved) – Level 12] !
You have obtained the Title [Tutorial Forerunner] !
Your class [Light Warrior] has reached level 2 !
Your class [Light Warrior] has reached level 3 !
A bitter smirk escaped me. It was ironic to receive these gains after a battle where we had barely escaped annihilation. But the rewards were there.
Yet we had no time to linger.
"Alright, let's move," Jules ordered. "We need to find a place for the night. If we can stumble upon a water source, that would be perfect."
We silently nodded, and the group started moving.
Progress was slow and arduous. Everyone bore the marks of battle. Romain limped slightly, Janna clutched her ribs with a grimace, and I felt every muscle in my body screaming with each step. Only Marie, carried unconscious on Romain's shoulder, was completely unresponsive.
Lucas had woken up in the meantime. He could walk on his own, but each step seemed to drain him. His face remained deathly pale, his dull eyes staring into the void as if utterly exhausted, trapped in a weariness beyond physical pain. He moved mechanically, absent, as if none of this concerned him anymore.
At the front of the group, Léonard walked, strangely upright despite the loss of his arm. His face was impassive, but his body betrayed the tension gnawing at him: his fingers clenched around the two-handed sword he still carried, despite the absurdity of it. A weapon meant to be wielded with strength and balance, one he would never be able to use properly again. The weight of the blade now seemed grotesque, a cruel irony he refused to confront. Yet, he did not let it go. Maybe out of instinct, maybe out of refusal to accept what he had lost.
Beside him, Jules followed in silence, occasionally glancing at him. He opened his mouth, hesitated, then changed his mind, as if searching for the right words, something to lighten the invisible burden pressing down on Léonard. But there was nothing to say. Nothing that could mend what was broken.
We kept moving, survivors of a battle that had left us more shattered than victorious.
During the march, I thought back to the rewards I had received earlier. The quick allocation of my stats had probably saved my life, and that realization convinced me not to hoard too many unused points. Determined to optimize my chances, I opened my status to distribute them immediately.
[Status]
Name : Anthony Paine
Race : Human (Inferior)
Class : Light Warrior (3)
Profession : --
[Statistics]
Strength : 7
speed : 17 (+6)
Perception : 10 (+2)
Vitality : 6
Intelligence : 17 (+4)
Mana : 0
Mental : 4
Endurance : 6
Free Points: 12
[Skills]
Universal Language (Mythic) - Ability to understand and read the language of all races, except divine and ancient languages.
Identification (Inferior) - Allows brief analysis of an object or ability, revealing basic information such as name, quality, and general use.
Dual Dagger Mastery (Inferior) - Enables basic proficiency with dual daggers, slightly improving chain attack fluidity and attack speed. However, accuracy remains approximate, movements lack finesse, and critical hits are rarely optimized.
Stealth (Inferior): Grants the ability to partially conceal one's presence, reducing the chance of detection by enemies.
[Titles]
Contender for the Twelve Elect - One of the 7,777 individuals selected by the Twelve Ancient Gods, thus having a chance to join the exclusive circle of the Twelve Elect. Grants +12 free stat points.
Tutorial Forerunner - Member of the first formation to have triumphed over an evolved-ranked entity. Grants +10 free stat points.
This chimera was definitely a blessing in disguise, I thought. A strange paradox, but there was no doubt: its monstrous appearance concealed an immense reward.
I had gained a huge amount of stats with my two levels, and I still had 12 free points to allocate. But where should I place them? I had no reference, no guide to tell me exactly where to invest my points. Every possibility seemed to offer advantages, but every choice also carried risks. Hesitant, I let my thoughts swirl, lost in a whirlwind of doubts. Logic pushed me to optimize my strengths, but each option seemed crucial to my survival.
Overthinking wouldn't lead anywhere. If I stood there weighing the pros and cons indefinitely, I would end up wasting a precious opportunity. Finally, speed. Yes, that seemed the most sensible choice for now. If I became faster, I could dodge attacks, outrun my enemies, and react more quickly. It seemed like the best decision in this world where everything moved so fast. Without further hesitation, I allocated all my points into this stat.
Instantly, a pleasant warmth spread throughout my body. It was a strange sensation, almost euphoric, as if my entire being was readjusting. I saw the world around me frozen in a suspended moment, but it wasn't the world slowing down. No, it was me becoming faster, much faster.
My gaze fixed on my speed numbers. It had increased from 17 to 29. This difference, though numerical, was immense in reality. I could already feel the change: my muscles reacted more quickly, my movements were smoother. Everything seemed sharper, more precise. The sounds of my footsteps blended into the air, and I felt speed coursing through every fiber of my being. I hadn't even run yet, but I already knew that my body would now be capable of moving with enhanced agility.
Observing what had just happened, a wave of satisfaction washed over me. I did not regret my decision. On the contrary, this newfound sensation of lightness and speed offered me a sense of power I had never known before.
The forest stretched endlessly, oppressive and unfathomable. How long had we been walking? Impossible to tell. The sky was invisible beneath the thick canopy, and without any landmarks, time seemed to stretch, unreal. Only the weight of fatigue and hunger reminded us that the hours were passing.
The ground was treacherous, sometimes soft and muddy, sometimes covered in a carpet of sinuous roots that threatened to trip us with every step. The humidity clung to our clothes, sticky, making the air heavy and suffocating. All around us, an unfamiliar flora thrived in an almost supernatural silence: flowers with phosphorescent petals, their flickering glow pulsing as if in sync with an invisible breath; grotesquely shaped mushrooms oozing a dark, thick liquid; metallic-hued vines swaying gently as if watching us. Flowers of impossible colors dotted the undergrowth, some faintly pulsating with bioluminescent light, others releasing an intoxicating, almost suffocating scent. Gnarled tree trunks bore twisted fungi, exuding a translucent sap that shimmered like liquid glass. The air was thick, saturated with vegetal aromas—a blend of moss, sap, and a more bitter, indefinable fragrance.
The darkness thickened as we advanced, and with it, a growing sense of unease. The sounds of the forest were omnipresent but different from those we knew: the rustling of leaves too quick to be the wind, the faint plop of water where no stream was visible, a distant rustling that seemed to follow us. Every shadow seemed to shift, every breath of wind carried an invisible threat.
The scent of the forest was just as alien: a suffocating mixture of moss, decaying wood, and an overly sweet fragrance, too strong, almost nauseating.
Fatigue weighed on us. Our steps became heavy, clumsy. Hunger and thirst gnawed at us slowly, and each movement required an increasingly painful effort. Romain clenched his teeth, Janna stumbled at times, and even Léonard, who stubbornly led the march despite his missing arm, was beginning to slow down. Lucas still walked, but his empty eyes seemed to see nothing.
Romain, usually so strong, seemed exhausted. He was supporting Marie, who had woken up but was still too weak to walk on her own. Her feet dragged behind him, her frail body resting almost entirely on him. Despite his inhuman strength, he struggled to hold her up, and each step seemed more difficult than the last. The physical and emotional strain of carrying Marie, of trudging through this endless forest, seemed to crush his muscles and mind. But he said nothing, merely gritting his teeth and pushing forward, with the same determination as if the survival of the entire group depended on it.
Then, suddenly, Jules stopped. He abruptly raised his arm—a sharp, precise motion. A signal of alert.
Everyone froze instantly, locked in absolute tension.
And that's when we saw them.
Silhouettes slowly emerged from the shadows, blending at first with the twisted trunks before becoming distinct. They were quadrupedal, the size of large wolves, but everything about them seemed… distorted. Wrong. Their limbs were too long, their joints protruding and knotted, giving the impression that their bodies had been stretched and broken, then haphazardly patched together. Their skin, a sickly gray, was stretched over their bones like parchment too dry, and in places, it split into deep fissures, revealing darker flesh beneath—pulsing, writhing with imperceptible movements.
One of the creatures stepped forward slightly, and the pale glow of the phosphorescent flowers revealed the horror of its face. Its eyes were absent, replaced by gaping sockets where tiny white filaments nestled, writhing like exposed nerves. And its maw… it opened slowly, far too slowly, revealing a first row of irregular fangs, jagged like shards of broken bone. Then, behind this first row, a second, tighter, finer set moved as well, producing a chilling, clicking sound in the heavy air.
A foul stench gripped our throats, a mix of carrion and oxidized metal.
They weren't simply beasts. They were something else. Something that shouldn't exist.
I closed my eyes for a moment, focusing. I activated my skill:
Identification (Lesser) – Name: ??? | Level: 2 | Edible
The information flashed quickly before my eyes, but my gaze locked onto a single word: Edible.
The term imprinted itself in my mind with an almost unsettling clarity. Edible. The mere echo of this word, in this context of pain and deprivation, made me waver. A rush of hope, mixed with disgust, swept through my thoughts. The sight of these creatures, repugnant as they were, gradually faded, replaced by a simple, brutal realization: if this could fill the void in my stomach, their form, their nature—none of it mattered. Disgust, even horror, seemed like distant concepts, washed away by the necessity of survival.
"Edible… Food…" I murmured, barely audible, but those words carried the full weight of our despair.
The group halted, as if time had frozen for an instant. The heavy silence thickened, then, slowly, every gaze turned toward me. A shiver rippled through the air, heavy with understanding. We didn't need more words. Each of us knew exactly what those meant in this dark forest, in this state of utter deprivation.
Their eyes gradually lit up, a glimmer of almost frantic hope shining in their pupils, though a shadow of revulsion lingered deep within them. Hunger was driving them mad, and the idea of finally satisfying this primal need, no matter how repulsive the source, seemed to outweigh everything else. Their gazes met, hesitation visible, then a silent understanding settled among us.
Romain, even while supporting Marie, seemed more tense, more alert. Janna bit her lip, her eyes avoiding the creatures, yet seeking in mine the confirmation that there was no other choice. Léonard, silent, stared at the abominations before us, his expression twisted by a mix of pain and raw craving.
Lucas, for his part, no longer seemed entirely present, but the echo of the word food vibrated in the air around him, and even he, in his state of semi-abandonment, reacted—a flicker of incomprehension crossing his face, etched with exhaustion.
Jules, too, seemed to grasp the truth immediately. A second of silence passed, then, with a deep sigh, he nodded. His gaze, hesitant at first, hardened as he accepted reality. His lips twisted into a grimace of disgust, but he did not look away.
"All right…" he said, his voice low but firm. "If it can keep us alive."
He turned his eyes toward the creatures, his hands clenching with tension, but despite the obvious repulsion on his face, he knew there was no other option. Hunger was stronger than anything.
My eyes remained fixed on that word, as if it held the key to our salvation.
Meanwhile, the silence thickened around us.
Then, a sharp crack echoed.
One of the creatures had taken a step.
And hell began anew.