As I left the shop, I headed to another one, just next door. This one seed specialized in outerwear, suited for the harsh conditions of the demonic continent.
I crossed the threshold, and a woman welcod with a smile. Her gaze was piercing, but there was warmth in her welco that contrasted with the harshness of the outside world.
She greeted politely, and I replied in kind, before letting Lysara take the lead. She needed to find a new outfit to replace her damaged kimono, which was a bit too worn out to withstand the rigors of travel.
I sat on a bench near the entrance, patiently waiting for her to find what she needed. The shelves were full of durable clothing, tailored for the trials of the desert and barren lands.
She said nothing, but her fingers brushed the fabrics more slowly than usual. A timid, almost intimate touch. As if she were looking not for clothing, but for a second skin in which she could feel less... foreign.
Lysara returned a few monts later, wearing a new kimono, this ti much more fitted and comfortable. The black fabric, light and flowing, was adorned with subtle yet elegant patterns, evoking simple geotric shapes and mystical symbols with slightly blurred edges, as if hand-drawn.
The kimono exuded a discreet elegance, but the texture seed to be of a magically imbued fabric that was less resistant. The cut was classic, with wide sleeves and a belt cinching the waist. So dark sparkles and a slight shimr appeared under the light, giving it a sowhat mystical air, though it didn’t hide the fragility of the fabric.
All in all, it was a kimono that, while charming and practical, remained simple and functional, lacking the durability one might hope for in a garnt ant for the hardships of this continent.
Lysara, intelligent as she was, had understood that resources were limited at the mont. She hadn’t chosen an expensive kimono, but a practical and simple one that perfectly suited our current needs.
I nodded, approving of her choice, and stood to pay.
The new kimono had cost 2 Drek.
I left the old kimono at the shop. The vendor gave 1 Krag, even though the garnt was well-worn. I took the coin, slipped it into my pocket, and left the shop.
In the rchant alley, we headed toward another store. This ti, it was a leather shop, filled with bags, pouches, and other leather accessories. The characteristic sll of leather and tanning floated in the air, creating a rustic and warm atmosphere.
Upon entering the shop, my eyes fell on the pouches and bags, and to my great surprise, there were indeed magical ones. It was truly the ultimate asset for any adventurer—to be able to store almost anything without worrying about space.
I asked the owner for the price, and she replied that the cheapest bag with space enchantnt cost 12 Zarns. I had suspected as much, but I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed by the high price.
Never mind, I turned toward low-quality but practical leather bags. I chose two large backpacks: one my size, the other for Lysara, along with three leather flasks to complete the purchases.
The shopkeeper gave a discount, and the whole thing ca to 2 Drek and 8 Krag. I was rather satisfied with our purchases, even if the gear wasn’t top-quality.
With the 7 remaining Krag, I bought so dried Sharok at—those creatures resembling demonic erkats we had encountered earlier. Intrigued, I paid and stored it for the road ahead.
A river ran through the city, probably the reason it was founded, with buildings constructed around it to take advantage of the water. I approached the bank and filled my three flasks, listening to the soft lapping of the water, before placing them back in my bag, ready to continue our journey.
We set off from the side opposite the entrance we had used to arrive in the city.We were ready to begin several days of walking.
As we left the city limits, the landscape gradually unfolded before us.
The semi-arid region revealed itself in all its brutal splendor, a place where the cracked earth seed to twist under the heat, scattered with thorny bushes and red rocks. The hardy plants seed to fight for survival, their roots plunged deep into the sterile soil. On the horizon, the black rocky mountains lood, imposing, nacing, like stone giants. They rose gradually, their jagged peaks bathed in a harsh light, as if absorbing the sun’s heat.
The air was dry, almost suffocating, and clouds of dust rose with every step, creating an atmosphere of oppressive silence. As we advanced, the vegetation grew sparser and the terrain rougher and rockier.
The black mountains drew closer, their nacing silhouette dominating the horizon. A sense of solitude pervaded the landscape.
After a few hours of walking, night fell. Tired, and seeing that Lysara seed in the sa state, I decided it was ti to stop. Fire was of no use here—the heat was already suffocating and enough to dry us out.
The sky was faintly lit by the moon and stars, creating a calm yet slightly unsettling ambiance. I asked Lysara to stand guard while I rested. I knew I wouldn’t sleep more than two hours, because of that cursed spirit that haunted .
My thoughts then turned to Cassandre, her gentleness and the warmth of the teas she used to make. That thought cald a little, and slowly, I let myself be lulled by the stillness of the night, falling peacefully asleep despite everything.
Hearing soone get too close, I jumped up, alerted by an instinct that never failed . Lysara seed surprised by my abrupt awakening, but I had no ti to apologize. The tutorial had taught reflexes that had beco instinctive over ti—simple but crucial things, like never letting your guard down, even while sleeping.
It had beco second nature, like a beast ready to pounce at any mont. Danger could co from anywhere, and I was no longer capable of relaxing my vigilance, not even for a minute.
I looked at her, noticing the fear in her eyes.
I asked her in a low voice:"What is it?"
She stepped a little closer, and following her gaze, I saw what terrified her:
Insects. Thousands of them, moving in terrifying swarms. These insectoid creatures, with obsidian carapaces, were bristling with chitinous blades that glead under the moonlight. Their six clawed legs allowed them to move at lightning speed, and their tails whipped the air with a force strong enough to shatter stone. These monsters hunted in packs, relentlessly tracking their prey.
My face, instead of showing fear, turned into a widening smile, my eyes shining with excitent. What I saw before wasn’t a threat, but a true treasure. Adrenaline surged in , and the fever of battle seized my senses.
I whispered, my lips dry from the climate:
"It’s ti to level up."
The mont had finally co. The insects were nothing but obstacles to overco, enemies that would allow to grow stronger, to progress.
Lysara remained frozen for a mont, her eyes fixed on , probably trying to understand what I was thinking. Did she think I had gone mad? Perhaps. But it didn’t matter.
I could feel her gaze on , but sothing had changed. Since the city, she had been expressing more and more emotions, even if they remained basic. Fear. Surprise. A glimr of incomprehension. It was an evolution.
I removed my hand from her head and declared with confidence:
– Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything. Get so rest.
Then, without waiting for her answer, I let my cape fall to the ground, followed by my top.
Under the moon, my torso marked with the rites of the Gorr’Shan was revealed, the dark markings standing out against the cold light of the night.
I lifted my gaze toward the swarm undulating in the distance, a black and chitinous sea just a few hundred ters away. These creatures... they were at the peak of the evolved rank.
A smile stretched across my face.
It was the perfect ti to stock up on experience.
My heart beat more slowly, as if in sync with the breath of the Swarm. Each passing second brought closer to an invisible abyss—not the one of death, no. The one of what I was becoming.
Silence had always preceded the storm.
I was no longer a man, nor even a warrior. I had beco a specter, a monster among monsters. My breath matched the surrounding darkness, and my body faded into the shifting shadows. Around , an incessant swarming, a murmur of claws scraping the ground, of mandibles clicking in anticipation of the feast.
They were thousands. A black and chitinous wave, quivering with fury, driven by the insatiable hunger of the Swarm. Creatures as tall as wolves, their carapaces gleaming like polished glass, bristling with blades as sharp as war sabers. Their speed was inhuman, their leaps terrifying, their tails cracking the air with destructive violence.
And , alone.
That night, sothing inside stopped retreating.
I was about to dive into violence with an almost human joy. Almost.
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