TRIESSENCE [Original Magic System | Slow Progression Dark Fantasy | LitRPG | Strategy]

[Satoy]

---

THE μ BONE μ PARASITE

​

The corpse had been dead for less than two days, but in the World Split in Two that represented an eternity. The dead man was an elf, just like him. But there the similarities ended. While Erink wore rags stained with mud and oil, the corpse sported the remains of a velvet frock coat that, in another time, must have cost more than he would loot in a lifetime.

The penetrating stench of decomposition was beginning to permeate the air, competing with the smell of ash that the wind dragged with it, seeping through every fissure of the ruined landscape. A swarm of carrion flies, their abdomens swollen an unhealthy red, buzzed stridently around the deceased's empty eye sockets.

Erink stopped, resting a hand on a collapsed brick wall to catch his breath; a single inhalation had been enough to make his lungs burn. He couldn't quite count the exact days, but the calluses on his feet and the blisters on his hands told him he had been at this task for over a year, in a sort of forced pilgrimage toward Alfaria, the supposed "last jewel of civilization" still standing. The only cohesive place. As time passed, the city felt more like a distant myth, one that was superseded by his immediate reality: the hunger gnawing at his entrails.

He knelt beside the body.

"Damned elves..." he muttered through his teeth, his voice hoarse from dehydration. "Not even silk stops the claws."

The soma's ribcage had burst outward. The ribs splayed open like grotesque fingers pleading to the sky, forming a sort of splintered bone crown. Whatever killed him hadn't wanted to get in: it had wanted to get out. Despite all the desolation he had witnessed, it was the first time he had seen a corpse with those kinds of wounds. Had he truly perished by the claws of a Valrron?

He felt a familiar itch on the sides of his head. Instinctively, he scratched the uneven, scarred skin where the tips of his ears should have been. The stumps, a reminder of the rusty razor with which he had severed his elven heritage a year ago, throbbed whenever the tension rose. He hated elves with the fury of Temira, she who judges us from behind a blood-bathed throne. But in this moment, all his hatred was channeled toward the waste before him.

He began to search the pockets with trembling fingers. Night was approaching, and with it, the predatory Valrrons that needed no light to hunt.

Nothing. Not a single copper coin, nor a ration of dehydrated food. Only linen handkerchiefs and papers soaked in coagulated blood, already dry, making it impossible for him to read what they said.

"Useless," he mumbled, kicking the side of the corpse. "Even dead, elves are trash."

He was about to stand up, resigned to spending another night with an empty stomach, when a gleam caught his attention. It wasn't the ostentatious shine of gold, but a matte, almost timid glow on the dead man's hand.

It was a ring, resting on the left ring finger.

Erink frowned. The object didn't look like metal. It had the porous, organic texture of polished bone, with dark veins running across its surface like capillaries. In the center, a deep crimson sphere watched him.

"Bone and chitin..." he whispered. A strange material. Perhaps craftsmanship from the northern clans, or...

He remembered some of the rumors from those cheap taverns, where he washed dishes and tended the stable to spend a night with some kind of hot meal. It was slop, but to his eyes and palate, it was the best-seasoned roast pork in the World Split in Two. However, if it owed to one of those jewels, then...

He pulled at the ring.

It didn't yield.

He leaned closer, intrigued. The ring wasn't simply attached: it seemed to have fused on an organic level with the dead man's finger. Small black needles extended from the base of the carved bone, sinking into the rotting flesh.

Common sense, that sharp instinct that had kept him alive among bandits and Valrrons, screamed in his mind: Leave it. It's dangerous.

But then, it happened. First, there was a pulsation, then a resonance that vibrated in the marrow of his own bones. The crimson jewel in the center of the ring dilated, like a predator's pupil reacting to the presence of prey. Erink felt a magnetic pull, something drawing his hand toward the object.

His mouth filled with saliva at the thought of what he would eat after selling such an artifact. He even grew a little dizzy knowing how drunk he could get. That ring would surely be worth dozens of gold coins. Hell, they might even give him a whole sack!

He ignored his instinct. That ring wasn't a problem, but a solution.

Take it... It is power. It is survival.

With a grimace blending disgust and desperation, he planted his foot on the corpse's wrist for leverage and pulled with all his might.

Crack.

The ring broke free, taking a chunk of necrotic skin and phalanx with it.

Erink ended up falling backward onto his rear, panting, with the piece of bone and flesh in his hand. He wiped it frantically against his trousers until the ring was exposed. Now that he had it, the compulsion was overwhelming. His left hand moved autonomously, ignoring the tremors of fear that had engulfed him.

"I'll... I'll just see if it 'fits'," he lied to himself.

He slipped the bone ring onto his index finger, and the world stopped for an instant.
The ring bit down.

"Aaahhg!"

His scream echoed in the empty ruins. He felt as if a thousand tiny, incandescent teeth pierced his dermis, searching for bones, veins, and nerves in which to take root. Erink pulled at the object in desperation, tearing his skin in the process, but it proved useless: the ring was already a part of him. The ring contracted, emitting a beep at a frequency that made his teeth chatter, but which felt familiar. It was a phantom vibration, inaudible to a common human, but deafening to his mixed blood between Sensitive and human. That cursed frequency his father had taught him to fear. The whistle that only those of his clan could naturally hear... and the beasts they hunted in the dark.

He fell to his knees, clutching his head with one hand while staring at the ring. His vision fragmented, and the gray reality of the ruins was replaced by an abyssal darkness, upon which lines of neon red text began to burn into his retinas.

---

「BLOOD BINDING DETECTED」

「Analyzing new host...」

「Genetic Compatibility: Acceptable」​

---

He blinked, trying to clear the letters from his eyes, but they remained there, floating wherever he looked. He didn't understand what was happening to him.

---

「INITIATING SYMBIOSIS PROTOCOL」

---

​

Suddenly, a new text window unfurled with a mental sound akin to a fracturing bone.

---

「ORGANISM STATUS」

「race: half-breed between human and soma/elf」

「Mutation rate: sequencing level: N/A μ」

「Celular integrity: 26% (mild wear)」

「Caloric reserves: 35% (DANGER)」

「Spiritual status: incompatible. Not a methyd」

「Dogma: Potential to get one」

「O/C: 5% (operational cost)」

---

​

He leaned panting against the wall and looked at his hand through tears. The pain in his finger had disappeared, replaced by a cold numbness. He looked at the ring. It no longer seemed like a separate object; the base of the ring had sunk into his skin, healing instantly around the edges.

---

「Status: Ravenous hunger」

「Synchronization initiated...」​

---

"Temira! What... what the hell are you?!" he sobbed, staring at the floating letters. The text blinked, indifferent to his question, to his fear.

---

「Warning: Operational cost initiated」

「Suggestion: Ingest biomass inmediately to avoid muscle atrophy」​

---

The hunger returned. But it now differed from the human need of an empty stomach. It was more of a cellular demand; a demand for fuel to stoke the machinery that had just awakened in his blood. Erink saw the noble's corpse. For a second, his instinct erased a dead person. For a second, he saw... resources.

Hundreds of kilometers away, there stood a spiral tower that defied conventional architecture and did not appear on the maps of imperial cartographers.

The hall of the tower was in twilight, illuminated only by the rhythmic heartbeat of the bioluminescent lamps on the walls, composed of living tissue. In the center, seated on a throne of black chitin anchored to the floor like a molar, something opened its eyes. Without pupils, just two dark sockets, a sea of liquid darkness that felt far beyond the tower where it dwelled.

"Subject 405-H connected..." His voice echoed throughout the hall, making the skin of the walls bristle and throb with a palpitating rhythm. "The signal is weak, impure. A half-breed."

The man smiled, revealing teeth molded to resemble those of a predator from the other half of the World Split in Two.

"Let's see how long you last before it consumes you, little rodent."

 

[Satoy]

THE EYE μ BEHIND μ THE VEIL​

The pain of the fusion had completely disappeared, leaving in its place a cold sensation that radiated from his left hand toward the rest of his body, anchoring itself in his marrow as if a thousand ice needles had embedded themselves in his spine. But that cold wasn't the worst part.

The worst part was the noise.

He brought his hands to his temples, pressing hard, trying to silence the static buzz drilling into his skull.

It was pure information forcing its way in.

The last time he felt a pain like this was as a child, when his father forced him to "pierce the veil" to unlock his clan's Sensitive ability. It was the only useful elven heritage he had left. Thanks to it, he could see a little beyond the mundane: the faint glow of moss at dawn, or the gray trails of radiation that the Valrrons left behind in the places they obliterated with their presence. Even, if he concentrated enough, he could detect the slight flexing of a muscle before an attack was executed, or the cadence of someone's breathing when they were nervous or not. Perhaps, his misfortune of being a half-elf is what had allowed him to survive so long on his journey to Alfaria. It had to have been good for something.

But now... that ring made of bone and chitin had seized his optic nerve and forced it wide open, tearing through his brain's natural filters without asking permission or offering anesthesia.

He opened his eyes.

At first, he only saw pain. He felt as if his eyeballs had been bathed in salt and ground glass. Thick tears, tinged with blood, welled from his tear ducts, rolling down his dirty cheeks and burning in the superficial cuts on his face. Erink tried to focus his gaze in the distance. His pupils dilated until they completely devoured the iris.

---

「Unique retroactive ability unlocked: ''The Eye Behind the Veil''」​

---

He blinked, wiping the blood away with the back of his hand, and then... the reward revealed itself.

The nocturnal world no longer existed.

The ruins of the forgotten town, once indistinguishable shadows, were now drawn in a high-contrast schematic. The edges of the collapsed buildings glowed with a pale, defined blue light. He could see the branches of the trees swaying in the cold night wind. The owls stalking the rabbit burrows. But the most unsettling thing were the heat trails. His eyes absorbed any hint of moonlight from the environment and expanded it, revealing the secrets of the night. What he previously saw as gloom, was now twilight, a canvas of information.

In the distance, the snap of branches being broken. Wolves. He could see their heat silhouettes moving among the trees, but they were distant, stalking, drawn like orange and red specters prowling over the desolate blue of the forest.

---

「Sensory synchronization: 10%」

「Calibrating optical filters...」

---

​

Only ten percent? Erink thought, stunned. I see all this with just a fraction of the power?

The floating text adjusted, sliding to the periphery of his vision so as not to intrude.

"Enough..." he panted.

His stomach contracted with a spasm that almost doubled him over. The system wasn't lying about the "caloric reserves." He felt his own body beginning to consume itself; his mouth arid as a desert of ash, his muscles rigid and brittle.

---

「Alert: Critical calorie level」

「The Blood Binding Jewelry demands sustenance」​

---

Erink looked at the noble's corpse, and the ring pulsed on his finger, emitting a warm heartbeat that offered him a strange comfort against the cold of the night.

Eat it, whispered an instinct he didn't recognize as his own, primitive and ravenous. Dead flesh still holds energy. Do not waste.

"No!" he found himself whispering, disgusted by the mental intrusion, taking a couple of steps back. "I am not one of those ghouls. I am still human."

He turned, stumbling over a stone buried in the earth, and began to walk in the opposite direction from where he had detected the wolves. He needed to hunt. Something alive. Something that wasn't a person.

The interface blinked, highlighting a trail on the ground. Small footprints emitting a residual thermal signature. The rats that shared the banquet with the carrion flies, and which fled upon sensing him.

---

「Trail Detected: Rubble Rodent」

「Probability of succes: High」​

---

He followed the red line the system projected onto the dusty ground. His body moved with a strange fluidity, alien to his will: the exhaustion was still there, weighing tons, but his legs responded with lightness, driven by the ring's need. It was a puppeteer pulling the strings of his exhausted muscles.

He reached a section where a wall had collapsed over an ancient sewer network. The smell of rot and urine was penetrating, so dense he could almost taste it at the back of his throat.

There it was.

A rubble rat out of its nest. It differed abysmally from those small rats recounted in the tales from before the Rupture. Centuries of scavenging Valrron and human corpses had changed them. The beasts were the size of a medium dog, with sparse fur covered in tumors and purulent scabs. Its teeth, yellow and long as chisels, gnawed on an old femur whose origin Erink preferred to ignore.

Erink crouched behind a concrete block. He had no time. His heart began to pound. The Blood Binding Ring deployed a new display over the creature.

---

「Estimated mutation rate: None」

「Creature Status: Distracted/Hungry」

「Vital points: Insufficient information」​

---

"Insufficient Information"?

He cursed the ring. It was to be expected that the system lacked data. The ring was an analytical tool. If he didn't know the beast's anatomy, or if the system didn't have previous records—meaning, if the previous user hadn't recorded them—there would be no kind of indicator pointing to its weak spots. He would have to do it the old-fashioned way.

He unsheathed the rusty curved dagger at his belt. He used it for skinning, mostly, but its edge was still capable of opening the throat of an unwary target if the right pressure was applied.

He swallowed hard. If he missed the first strike, those incisors would tear his throat out before he could even scream. He was too weak to keep pace in a prolonged battle, let alone defend himself from a frenzied assault.

Do it, pushed the sinister instinct from moments ago, vibrating through the phalanx of his left ring finger.

He lunged in a desperate leap fueled by hunger. If the highly vaunted heroes of the legends from before the Rupture saw him, they would laugh themselves breathless at how pathetic he surely looked right now, but he cared little: those heroes had died along with their legends, and he was still breathing.

The rat squealed, spinning with surprising speed, its yellow teeth seeking flesh. Erink felt time thicken like molasses. His Sensitive eyes, doped by the ring, caught the muscle contraction in the beast's hind legs before it leaped. He saw the trajectory of the attack before the claws touched him.

He threw himself back. The rat's jaws snapped millimeters from his nose, its rancid breath hitting his face, impregnated with the stench of decaying meat.

Capitalizing on the animal's failed momentum, and letting gravity and inertia do the dirty work, he plunged his curved blade into the back of the rat's neck, searching for the spine.

There was a dull crack, followed by the sound of tearing flesh. Thick, hot blood splattered his face and left side.

The beast convulsed violently once and fell limp.

The young man dropped to his knees, panting, and felt the creature's neck with his ring hand to ensure it was dead, fearing a final, treacherous death rattle.

---

「Target eliminated」

「Bio-harvesting available」

「Suggested method: Direct ingestion (100% efficiency) > Tactile Absorption (65% efficiency) (passive skill)」​

---

He read the second option. "Tactile Absorption." Did that mean he didn't have to cut it open and eat the raw meat? Nausea and relief mixed in his throat. Without a second thought, he planted his left hand firmly onto the rat's bloody flank.

What happened next made him wish he had used his teeth.

Red and black tendrils, like exposed veins, erupted from the ring. They moved like blind worms guided by the scent of iron, piercing the rat's skin and sinking into the dead flesh.

Erink, horrified, watched as the rat's robust body began to wither, collapsing in on itself.

The tendrils pumped fluids, essence, and heat from the beast to the ring, and from the ring to him. He felt a surge of raw energy invade his bloodstream and flow toward his heart.

His headache evaporated. His muscles swelled slightly, regaining the tone lost from days of ceaseless walking.

The rat was reduced to a dry husk, drained of all vitality, and brittle bones in a matter of seconds.

---

「New creature analyzed: Rubble rat」

「Biomass recovered: 45,500 kcal (15 kg)」

「Profit reduction: 35% (Tactile Absorption + O/C)」​

---

He yanked his hand back, panting. He felt dirty. Defiled.

He looked at the bone ring. The crimson sphere in the center glowed intensely, beating in a steady rhythm with his own heart. Was it satisfied? That made him think about how the object worked, about its true intentions.

"You're using me..." he realized, his voice trembling in the dark. "I hunt, I kill, and you... you keep the best part."

There was no answer. Only a cold hum of satisfaction in his mind.

He stood up. He felt stronger, that was undeniable. He could see a hundred meters into the dark. But the price...

He looked toward the horizon, where the distant silhouette hid the road to Alfaria. So distant... If he wanted to reach the Great Bastion Capital, if he wanted to survive the Valrrons and bandits, if he wanted to settle scores... he needed to learn the functions of the Blood Binding Jewelry and master them. Were they an advantage, or a slow execution?

A nearby crash of shifting rubble pulled him from his thoughts.

He turned.

He saw a dozen heat silhouettes surrounding him. The rat's dying squeal had been a dinner bell, and the spilled blood, a formal invitation.

They were approaching slowly, growling and baring their fangs. They were ready to attack, closing a circle among the stone ruins.

Erink gripped the rusty dagger, feeling the vibration of his ring. A vibration that was far from fear and much closer to hunger. His caloric reserves had increased, but according to the macabre logic of the artifact, it would never be enough.

"Fine," he growled, baring his teeth as well. Stealth didn't matter anymore. "Let's see what else you can eat."

 

[Satoy]

SEQUENCED μ MUTATION​

The air filled with the smell of ozone and an icy breeze that portended a storm.

Through his Sensitive vision, he counted twelve pairs of dirty yellow eyes reflecting the moonlight and the heat. They were not common wolves. That much was clear. They were Rift Canids, scavenger beasts that had mutated from feeding on the remains of the wars against the Valrrons.

He remembered hearing a drunkard in a tavern telling stories of how these things chewed through armor and, in a pack, could face down a Valrron. Everyone laughed and dismissed him as a fool. But not Erink. He had listened carefully. And now, seeing the muscles twisting under the mangy skin like poorly tensioned steel cables, he knew that drunkard had fallen short.

Now what do I do? I'm fucked.

The system projected a crimson alert that blinked aggressively on his retina, superimposing itself over reality.

---

「COMBAT ALERT」

「Enemies detected: 12 Scavenger Canids」

「Survival probability: 4%」​

---

"Four percent..." He spat on the ground. The odds had rarely been in his favor, but seeing the number floating in the air turned it into a sentence.

The ring lost its usual shine. The red of the crystal began to swirl. Was it still processing the calories?

The largest wolf growled. A scar, likely from a Valrron's swipe, crossed its snout, leaving the teeth exposed down to the black gum. It was the alpha. It didn't attack immediately: its hunter's instinct demanded that the prey run first.

But Erink couldn't run. His legs, though revitalized by the rat, would not outrun four legs designed for speed.

The ring vibrated. A sharp hum ran through his skeleton like electricity, settling at the base of his skull.

---

「Remaining reserves: 45,500 kcal (46%)」

「45,500 kcal required to unlock μ Sequenced Mutation」

「...」

「User 405-H, do you accept the exchange?」​

---

Forty-five thousand five hundred calories? In exchange for unlocking the "Sequenced Mutation"? He didn't understand what it referred to. But he understood the cost. Those calories were all that kept him from starving to death. If he accepted and failed, the ring would devour him to compensate for the debt... Wait, was that what happened to the previous user? Shit.

"No," he whispered, clenching his fist and adopting a trembling defensive stance. "Damn it! I won't give you everything. I can barely stand."

The text blinked, indifferent.

---

「User 405-H rejects the Sequenced Mutation」

「Success probability updated: 0%」​

---

The alpha waited no longer.

Erink tried to raise his dagger, but his body, though restored, was still mortal. The impact dragged him to the ground like a siege ram. He felt the air leave his lungs and the crack of a rib upon hitting the ground.

The dagger went flying, getting lost among the rubble and the weeds.

It began to drizzle. Cold drops over hot blood.

The alpha was upon him, its jaws closing on his right forearm. Erink screamed. He felt the fangs pierce the flesh, tear the muscle, and scrape against his ulna.

The rest of the pack, excited by the smell of blood, closed the circle. He managed to see dozens of yellow eyes approaching for the feast. He kicked, desperately striking the alpha's snout with his free hand, but it was like hitting a stone wall.

He was going to die here. Reduced to dog food in the middle of nowhere, without having reached Alfaria.

Time dilated. His heart pumped desperately. The pain ceased to be a localized sensation and became the only thing he knew. It became a close hum, spreading through his body in the form of spasms and pants of despair.

And then, the voice returned. An invasive whisper, vibrating from the bone of his finger into his brain.

You are weak, 405-H. Soft Flesh. Fragile bones. A half-breed reduced to food, as it should be.

"Shut up..." he panted, his vision blurring.

The world is a stomach, and you are being digested. Why do you cling to that form? Why do you cling to your humanity? Just look at what it has brought you: pain and death.

The alpha violently shook its head, tearing his arm further. The blood, gushing out, splattered in shapeless strokes and mixed with the mud.

---

「Alert: Critical blood loss」

「IMMINENT DEATH」

「Survival probability: 0% (unupdated)」​

---

Absolute zero. Logical reality in the shape of a number. The mathematical certainty of the end.

The drizzle transformed into a storm.

Accept it, insisted the voice, cold, rational and, to his misfortune... tempting.

Break yourself to create something new. Stop being the prey. PAY THE PRICE.

He looked up and saw his own face reflected in the alpha's pupil. The face of a nobody. A dirty, broken, dying half-breed.

Temira! I don't want to die.

The fear of death overcame anything else. A primal fury, hot and sinister, was born from his stomach, fueled by despair.

"Whatever it is!" he shouted hoarsely until he lost his voice. "I accept! Take it! Take it all!..."

The ring reacted instantly. The crimson sphere erupted in light.

---

「CONSENT VERIFIED」

「Burning reserves: 45,500 kcal (depleted)」​

---

A smell and sound of burning fat spread through the surroundings, accompanied by wisps of smoke emerging from the ring. It was as if fire had been injected into his veins. He arched his back, screaming, but failing to make his vocal cords expel any sound, while every cell in his body was modified.

---

「...」

「Sequenced Mutation unlocked」

「Welcome, Ascending Half-breed」​

---

He felt his muscles convulse, tear, and reweave themselves, denser, darker. His bones groaned, thickening. His skin stretched, unable to contain the sudden new mass.

The alpha, confused by the scorching heat suddenly emanating from its prey, anchored its fangs in the bone and pushed backward, tearing off half his arm, leaving the tendons protruding like thick whitish threads.

But the hand the beast held in its mouth was no longer that of a malnourished young man. His whole being had changed. He could feel it. He closed his fingers, and his tendons, now thick as ropes, pulled taut. His nails—which now looked like claws—dug into the alpha's neck, piercing the tough skin.

He half-sat up, lifting the eighty-kilo beast with his damaged arm.

"Now..." the voice returned, distorted, guttural, a roar amidst the storm, "it's my turn."

A sudden wave of information landed in his mind.

---

「Genetic Mutation: 7 μ」

「Basic Regeneration, Strength, Agility, Bone Density and Cardiac Manipulation unlocked」

「Extra unique unlock: Basic Senses (for belonging to the Sensitive clan)」​

---

The storm became a torrent.

The alpha managed to let out a choked howl, which spurred the pack into action. They had hesitated at first, but yielded to the smell of scattered blood diluted in the rain. With a collective howl, the remaining eleven wolves lunged.

Fangs and claws everywhere. One sank its snout into his forearm; two others into his sides; four sinking their fangs into his legs; and the last three going for his neck.

He couldn't maintain an offensive with only one good hand, which made him prioritize his defense, redirecting bites and swipes aimed at his neck. And with that same hand he grabbed the leader's throat to snap it...

A final wolf emerged from the gloom and sank its fangs into his neck, seeking the jugular. Its grip wasn't as strong as the alpha's, but it was cunning enough to slip by unnoticed by him.

"Shit! There were twelve wolves! Why didn't I count them?" he cursed to himself, blood dripping down his chin.

His vision was losing light. Is this what dying feels like? He couldn't face twelve scavenger canids hunting together. He had nothing left. Not a gram of those calories, nor strength, nor the will. The ring blinked, empty...

Wait a moment. "Calories." All living beings have calories. That gave him an idea. One last idea.

"I..." he tried to say, but only an unintelligible thread of a voice came out. "I sacrifice all of myself, ring."

---

「WORDS AND WILL ACCEPTED」

「Secret ability unlocked: Autophagy」​

---

 

[Satoy]

THE μ ALPHA'S μ DUTY​

Erink activated 「Autophagy」.

---

「Fuel: User's body fat」

「9,000 kcal total」

「Cost: 450 kcal/s」

「...」

「ESTIMATED TIME BEFORE COLLAPSE: 20 s」​

---

An explosive force detonated within his chest. His own life burning like dry firewood.

He only had twenty seconds; that, without adding the sudden blood loss. Damn it. He had no time.

He stood up. The wolves still had their teeth anchored in his limbs. Had it not been for the physical benefits of the 7 μ Mutation, he would have been dismembered by now.

The adrenaline rush helped with the pain, which proved irrelevant when the body was merely fuel.

He started with the wolf gripping his neck. Slowly, he separated the lower jaw from the skull, tearing bone and muscle. He threw the twitching body against a nearby tree.

---

「15 SECONDS」​

---

The wolf clinging to his right leg received a heel kick that caved in its skull. The one on the left was sent flying when he twisted his torso and shattered its fangs with an elbow strike.

Meanwhile, he used the「Basic Cardiac Manipulation」 ability as a sort of biological tourniquet, drastically reducing the hemorrhage, but at the cost of increasing his heart rate.

He caught from the corner of his eye the flexing of three wolves' hind legs. They were those three wolves that seconds ago had lunged at his neck and missed. Surely they were taking advantage of his mobility "disadvantage" caused by the two wolves on his legs.

Do they think I'm defenseless?

Erink smiled, baring his blood-bathed teeth. He lifted the alpha by the throat and used it as a flail, sweeping the attackers away entirely. If the former hadn't dampened their spirits, seeing their leader with a broken throat and reduced to a mere tool undoubtedly would.

He finished by throwing the alpha toward the pack.

---

「10 SECONDS」​

---

Now with his hands free, he focused on the wolves anchoring him to the mud. His fingers, now dense as ivory, sank into the skull of the first canid; the bone gave way with a crack! that made the wolf howl before ending up thrashing in the mud and falling inert. He grabbed the second one by the jaws, tearing the corners of its snout to its ears as if it were paper. A flick of his wrist was enough for the beast's neck to explode in a burst of ground vertebrae. The body was sent flying, shaking in erratic convulsions before life escaped through its broken throat.

---

「5 SECONDS」​

---

Shit. I'm running out of time... Erink complained, clicking his teeth. Wait a minute. What if I absorb one of those two wolves? No. It was impossible: absorption takes time to process, the resource I'm most lacking right now.

He took a step forward. The ground beneath his worn boots sank.

Deceive them, he told himself, taking another step forward. Show them they won't be able to.

Don't stop.

The wolves backed away, ears flattened against their skulls, tails between their legs. It was working.

The smell of fear was beginning to overpower the smell of blood.

Then, a gurgling roar rose above the sound of the storm.

The alpha.

The beast staggered to its feet. Its neck was twisted at an angle that defied biology, the crushed trachea whistling with every agonizing breath. But the hate, that desire to avenge itself and its own kept it standing. A feeling Erink understood all too well.

Erink felt a pang of respect... and pity.

The alpha howled. A desperate command for its pack to attack.

But just like fear, the smell of weakness was also gaining ground.

One of the wolves, the elusive one that had surprised Erink by biting his neck, leaped. Although this time it wasn't at Erink, but at the exposed throat of its own alpha.

In the World Split in Two, a wounded leader was not a leader. It was rather someone waiting to be torn from their position.

And the new alpha howled.

That was the signal. The rest of the pack backed away. For a second as fleeting as the life cycle of a fly, Erink and the new alpha exchanged glances. "This is over... for now," they told each other with a look.

---

「2 SECONDS」​

---

The pack was not naive. Were it not for the time limit of 「Autophagy」—a factor they had no way of knowing—their leader was sending them to certain death. The alpha howled in rage to vindicate its position as boss, impatient with its pack's slowness.

---

​

「0 SECONDS」

「TIME LIMIT REACHED」

「Total caloric reserves: 0%」

「TIME BEFORE FALLING UNCONSCIOUS: 1 min」

「...」
​

---

Yet another disappointment...

It was as if suddenly his body weighed tons. As if the strings of a lead marionette had been cut.

The world tilted. His knees hit the mud, followed by his face.

Everything became darkness, one that dragged him down into a cold and silent pit, yet strangely... warm and comforting...

"I told you someone was here! And it's a human!"

The voice was high-pitched, sing-song, piercing the unconsciousness of a dying Erink.

"Don't tell me you're taking him too. Look closely. He's an elf. Or what's left of one. Look at those scars on his ears. He cut them off himself."

"And to think that on the way to meet up we found a dead elf and then a half-dead one!" the girl exclaimed with enthusiasm. "Tonight just keeps getting better! Besides, if you know I'm taking him, why ask, huh?" She grabbed him by the shoulders in a failed attempt to drag him. "...Three Essences! This malnourished guy is incredibly heavy... Are you just going to watch, or are you going to be useful?"

"Said the one who never carries the supplies or helps with the food. Do I look like Zran to you or what?"

"I've told you a thousand and one times to stop quoting me! Better yet, why don't you stop complaining and call Zran?"

"So I'm a loudspeaker now?"

"Come on, Rissha. Have some tact with your own kind."

"Said the methyd who doesn't know how to heal. Didn't you fail healing?"

"What does that have to do with anything! I swear, Rissha, sometimes you put me in a really bad mood."

A methyd? Temira who mercifully judges her children!... But wait a minute, what was that about not knowing how to heal?

"Tha..." Erink tried to speak, spitting up a dark clot instead. "Thank you."

"Poor broken, malnourished little thing," said the elf. "He thinks we're his saviors. Did you hear that, Lanzia! This fool thinks you're like the other methyds. Anyway, pass me the flashlight."

The blinding light hit his face. Erink blinked, trying to focus.

The girl straddled his chest, ignoring the blood staining her fine silk skirt. She peeled back one of his eyelids with gloved fingers.

Erink caught the gleam of gold at her neck. A heavy medallion rested on her full chest.

The symbol was unmistakable, even to a vagabond like him: two chained arms, crossed, joined by a dagger pierced through the wrists.

The Valrron Tamers.

An elite slaver company that appeared from time to time to raid a Bastion City and leave ashes in their wake. "The Six and One More." Tales of terror that parents used to frighten children in the Bastion Cities. It was said they captured those nightmares to sell as pets.

And now they have me.

Great. His good luck just kept getting better. What's next? Running into one of the extinct Noctis?

The paralysis was almost absolute. His lips refused to move. But they had to negotiate. He had to offer something before they turned him into bait or left him to rot in this place.

He couldn't move. Dammit! Even parting his lips required a titanic effort. But he had to say something so they wouldn't leave him rotting, being devoured by the ring. All-Seeing Certainty! That was it: he could pay them with the ring.

"I'll p... pay..."

The elf placed a finger on his lips.

"Shh... No one gave you permission to speak." She stood up, brushing invisible dust from her clothes, deliberately ignoring the bone ring pulsing on the boy's hand. "Rest. And don't worry, I promise you're going to be veeery well taken care of."