[Personal opinion, I think she wants you dead.]
Vergil didn’t answer, only giving a blank stare.
Before heading to their destination, they made a quick stop at the village’s general store. A small place between the baker’s stall and a herbalist hut.
A bell jingled as they stepped inside.
Shelves lined with various provisions and items. He moved with ease, grabbing the necessities.
Eleanor leaned against a shelf, silent but watchful.
He set everything on the counter. The shopkeeper, an older man with a lazy eye and a missing tooth, gave a crooked smile. "Thirty copper for the lot."
Vergil handed over the coins without a word.
He unstrapped the dagger from his belt and held it out. "If the monster gets too close, use this."
Eleanor blinked; for a mont her composure slipped as surprise took the better of her. Her grip was steady before she finally took it. "Got it," she said quietly.
She glanced at the supplies. "But where are you going to put all that?"
Without a word, Vergil opened his inventory with a thought. The food and water shimred out of sight.
Eleanor blinked. "...That’s convenient."
"Don’t ask questions," he spoke. Neither warm nor cold. "Just listen."
Her eyes narrowed. "Got it."
[That was almost tender. Almost.]
’Let’s just focus.’
Vergil walked at a steady pace, his bow now slung across his back and his quiver lightly bumping against his shoulder. Beside him, Eleanor’s fingertips kept brushing the danger as if each touch whispered words of ease.
"So," she asked casually, eyes looking at the forest ahead. "What’s the plan when we run into them?"
"Simply kill them."
"That’s... reassuring, to say the least."
[Very comforting leadership. Morale at an all-ti high when you’re the leader.]
"They’re just birds, but faster," Vergil muttered.
[Fast, coordinated and have flying knives. But sure. Birds.]
Eleanor side-glanced him. "Are you always this talkative on missions?"
"Only when I’m irritated."
"...That explains a lot."
The forest thickened in on them as if swallowing them whole. Trees stsrted to beco arched over their heads, weaving a canopy that dappled the sunlight covering the place in absolute shadow.
Rotted twigs snapped and crunched with every step.
Once or twice, Eleanor stopped to scan the area, eyes narrowing as though she caught movent above.
Vergil noticed it first, thin streaks of blood on a mossy trunk. Deep claw marks gouged into the bark.
Vergil touched the blood and realized it hadn’t dried yet. It was still fresh.
"It’s fresh."
"Think they’re close?"
"Not just close. I think we’re already in their territory."
[Welp, get ready to fight.]
Vergil rolled his shoulders and drew an arrow. The tension wasn’t primal; it was the weight of being watched like prey.
They pressed deeper, as the wind began to shallow. Then Eleanor lifted a finger and pointed upward. "There."
A wing rustled overhead.
Fwssh-fwssh. A shadow blurred across the branches, followed by another. A third silhouette glided above the canopy.
"These birds," Vergil confird. "They haven’t noticed us yet."
"They’re smaller than I expected."
Vergil gazed at each one, and they gazed back with a predatory glance.
"Faster than I expected."
Eleanor’s grip tightened on her dagger. "Let’s get rid of them."
"I know," Vergil said flatly.
[You should write motivational speeches.]
He stepped forward, boots crunching dead leaves. He lowered his stance, eyes scanning the canopy.
"We bait them. One will dive first. The others follow once we’re distracted."
"You sure?"
"No clue."
Eleanor exhaled. "So what’s the plan?"
"Don’t die."
[Classic.]
Eleanor smirked faintly. "You’ve got a way with words as always."
He nocked an arrow. "Let’s see how many there are."
Vergil raised a hand to signal her. Silence hung heavy among the high branches and shifting winds.
Then he activated [Analysis].
---
(Na: Ashon Gravetalon
Level: 6
Race: Monster
Class: None
Stats: Strength: 22, Constitution: 23, Dexterity: 28, Intuition: 15, Magic Power: 3, Mana Capacity: 3
Passive Skill: Piercing Talons (E) – Partial armor penetration when using talons
Active Skills: Screeching Dive (F ) – Disorienting dive attack, Wing Cutter (E-) – Mid-range feather slash)
---
Three targets.
One perched high. Another rustled in the underbrush. A third glided across the canopy.
Vergil’s hand moved fast. Bow now readied and arrow drawn.
Twang!
The shaft hissed through the air, punching into the bird’s wing joint. It screeched—
SKRAAAH!
It spiraled, branches snapped as it crashed to the forest floor.
The others reacted instantly.
One dived straight toward Eleanor with a thundering whoosh. The other folded its wings, spiraling as it aid for him.
"Eleanor. Left."
"I see it." Her hands flared faint green.
[Entangling Snare]
The ground began to tremble. Crrk-shhh! As vines erupted upward, whipping around the Gravetalon mid-dive. It could only shriek as it thrashed violently, wings beating the air until the vines slamd it into the dirt.
Vergil dropped his bow, unsheathing his sword with a clean schwing.
One clean motion was all he needed.
SHKTT.
The head rolled on the ground.
One down.
He spun, scanning the others.
The last bird flitted through the air, injured, still fast.
Vergil grabbed his bow and nocked another arrow.
The Gravetalon veered, trying to dodge.
Twang!
The arrow tore through its chest. It squawked, crashed into a tree with a THWUMP, then tumbled into the underbrush.
Now all enemies remained still.
Vergil approached with caution, blade still raised.
Nothing moved.
His exhale was slow and steady.
Eleanor made her way to the corpse with its head missing.
"A clean strike."
"Too slow on the second one," he muttered, sliding the bow back on his shoulder.
"You’re impossible," she muttered, but her smirk didn’t fade.
There were more important things to do. Like harvesting their Astralyth stones, talons, and feathers.
Vergil crouched beside the fallen beasts.
Their bodies twitched faintly as their nerves spasd one last ti. He worked.
Snap. Crrrk.
Carving talons, plucking plus, digging into warm flesh until faintly glowing Astralyth crystals ca free.
The air stank of copper and feathers.
Once the valuables were packed, he stood looking at them, face unreadable.
’Ti to feast.’ Smacking his lips.
He raised his palm. ’Authority of Predation.’
Black, corrosive energy spiraled outward with a low whum-whum-whum. It fractured into writhing mouths, each gnashing with an almost empty hunger. They hurriedly moved to the corpses like starving beasts.
The mont they touched flesh—
CRNCH-SHHRK!
Muscle ripped, ruined feathers dissolved into smoke. The corpses were dragged into the abyss, leaving only bones to tell their story.
[You have gained 3 Dexterity points and 1 Constitution point.]
[You have gained 3 new skills. 2 are unsuitable for your path. Converting into Evolution Points...]
[10 E-Rank Evolution Points obtained.]
[10 E-Rank Evolution Points obtained.]
---
Closing his fists, the mouths disappeared into the void. He only exhaled.
It wasn’t much. But it was certainly progress.
Eleanor stood nearby, silent, watching the last of the corpses vanish before her eyes.
"...Was that magic?" she asked, cautious but curious.
"No," Vergil said flatly. "Sothing else."
She didn’t press any further. She judged that this topic was off-limits. Just tucked hair behind her ear. "Then let’s keep moving. There might be more deeper in."
Vergil nodded. "Let’s move."
By the twelfth corpse, the process beca a routine. Each motion felt autonomous.
Cut. Strip. Devour. Each ti Vergil called his mouths, Eleanor only studied them.
Though no more stat points were coming in, another level was gained. And skills that weren’t available turned into sothing more useful.
[50 F-Rank Evolution Points obtained.]
[40 F-Rank Evolution Points obtained.]
[10 F Evolution Points obtained.]
Vergil barely noticed Eleanor’s gaze before pressing onwards, deeper into the thicket.
The trees only grew tighter, their shadows stretching even longer.
Then—SKREEEEEEE!
A screech ripped through the trees.
Not ahead. Behind.
The underbrush exploded.
CRRSHHH!
It was a Gravetalon, larger than any they had co across. However, it was different from the others. Its feathers were torn. Talons cracked, bleeding. Frantic and desperate, as if... scarred. It saw them, but it didn’t charge; instead, it fled, flapping wildly in a half-hop, half-flight.
’Analysis.’
Na: Ashen Gravetalon King
Level: 12
Tier: 0
Race: Monster
Stats: Strength: 33, Constitution: 29, Dexterity: 37, Intuition: 30
Magic power: 8, Mana capacity: 10
Passive Skills:
Alpha Predator (E): Enhances control over lesser Gravetalon; imposes ntal pressure on weaker foes.
Sky Sovereign’s Grace (E): Superior aerial control; reduces stamina drain mid-air.
Keen Predator’s Sight (E ): Tracks fast targets, sees in low-light areas.
Hardened Plu Carapace (E): Dense feathers reduce slashing and piercing damage.
Active Skills:
Predator’s Dive (E): A deadly aerial plumt. 3m impact radius.
Screech of Dominion (E): Disorients and disrupts mana in a 15m radius.
Razorwind Slash (E): Launches wind blades in a wide arc.
Wingbeat Disengage (F ): Retreat with wind gust, knocks back enemies.
Bloodrush Instinct (E): Triggers when in a critical state, increasing its stats by 30%.
Vergil only watched as it vanished beyond the trees.
"...Why the hell is it running?" he muttered, hand drifting to his sword.
Eleanor stepped closer. "That was the king?"
"I think we should be more worried about why it was running." Vergil gulped. A bead of sweat dripped down his face.
Then--
[Passive Skill: Primal Awareness has activated.]
A chill rushed down Vergil’s spine.
Sothing else. Sothing worse was approaching.
His blood rushed. His heart began to beat faster than ever. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his blade.
The wind stilled itself. The forest fell silent.
No birds. No rustling. Just the heavy, unnatural quiet of sothing powerful arriving.
Eleanor glanced in the direction the king had fled, brows furrowing. "Shouldn’t we go after it?"
"No." Vergil’s tone was clipped. Focused.
His eyes weren’t on the path ahead.
They were locked on where the king had co from.
From sowhere deeper and darker
He flexed his fingers--one hand near his bow, the other hovering over his sword.
"Sothing’s wrong here." he said quietly.
"It was being hunted."
Eleanor tensed her body. "Hunted? By what?"
Vergil didn’t answer. Not because he wanted to, because he didn’t need to.
[Primal Awareness]
His instinct was begging him to escape.
His body knew. Sothing older than logic stirred in his bones like an ancestral silence.
His heart slowed. Not from calm.
From survival.
Whatever it was, it didn’t fly.
It moved.
Through the forest.
Fast. Heavy. Controlled.
The air grew heavier.
Vergil raised a hand, voicing a silent command.
"Back. Behind . Don’t cast unless I say."
Eleanor obeyed imdiately. Wide-eyed. Focused, as she edged closer, fingers brushing the dagger he’d given her. Her eyes darted through the trees, uncertain of what’s to co.
Branches trembled, eastward, a tree cracked. KRRRRCH!
Splintering as sothing massive shoved through.
No roar. No screech.
Just steady, deliberate steps.
Vergil drew a black-fletched arrow. Didn’t loose it. Not yet.
The underbrush shifted. A shadow moved both large. Deliberate.
Then silence.
Not the safe kind.
The kind that ant the hunter had stopped.
And was watching.
Vergil’s grip tightened.
The danger wasn’t that it was coming.
It was that it had chosen not to.
Yet.
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