Three days had passed since the Vine Coyote incident. Three very long, very exhausting days. The camp had changed. The carefree atmosphere that had existed during the first day was completely gone. Nobody complained anymore. Nobody talked about their families, their status, their wealth, or what they planned to do after graduating.
The rift had beaten reality into them, and painfully so. The sight of Christian’s severed arm lying on the ground and Peter’s intestines spilling out onto the mountain rocks had permanently burned itself into everyone’s mories. Now they understood that thhis place could kill them easily and quickly, without remorse.
At the center of the camp, Peter Green sat beside one of the fires with his shirt removed. There wasn’t a single scar left on his abdon despite what had happened. Three days ago, his stomach had been ripped open: today, his skin looked perfectly healthy. Even he found it difficult to believe. He stared quietly at his palm as a thin strand of crimson blood rose from one of his fingertips and floated through the air like a living snake.
The blood twisted, curled, split into multiple strands, and returned to his hand. Peter swallowed. He still wasn’t used to it. The mont he had awakened, instinctive knowledge had entered his mind: Blood Manipulation. It was an A-Rank ability, from what the evaluation device detected. He had to do an evaluation test to clarify that, but it was still strange and unbelievable. The ability was a very dangerous ability and a very rare one.
It allowed him to control blood, his own and eventually that of others. More importantly, it gave him an absurd degree of regeneration whenever blood was available. That was the only reason he hadn’t died. There were dead beasts, his own blood, and the others. It had even changed him a bit genetically and physically, evident from his now pale skin and slight crimson eyes.
Across from him sat Christian Golf. The giant young man looked considerably better than before, though he was still depressed and traumatized. He occasionally stared at the empty sleeve hanging from one side of his body; his arm was lost forever, but unlike before, there was hope in his eyes. Hope because his awakening had happened.
He had also awakened an A-Rank ability. Extra Limb Creation. At first, everyone had laughed at the na. It was ironic, despite the condition he was in. It was as if the ability was mocking him. Just when he lost a hand, he awakened an ability that gave him extra limbs.
Christian had demonstrated it, causing a fleshy arm to grow from his shoulder. He willed it, and more appeared. The extra limbs weren’t as durable as his original body, but they were fully functional, strong, fast, and could regenerate. Currently, four muscular arms were folded across his chest while a fifth held a piece of roasted at. The sight looked ridiculous, though it was more imposing. Staring at such a giant guy with five arms was sothing.
"Stop staring."
Peter imdiately looked away while Christian glared.
"Everyone keeps staring."
"It’s because you have five arms."
"I know."
"You look like a boss monster."
"I know," Christian sighed.
Nearby, several students laughed. For the first ti in days, the atmosphere lightened slightly. Awakenings were always good news, and here, awakenings ant survival. The more awakened students they had, the better their chances beca.
Not far away, Alicia Hart was sparring with Victor Wesley. tal clashed against claw. Victor’s silver arm blocked a swipe, but Alicia imdiately followed with a kick that launched him backward. Victor dug his feet into the dirt.
"You’re getting stronger."
Alicia shrugged.
"We all are."
Victor nodded. That much was true. Three days inside a rift had already changed everyone, not physically, but ntally. The weak students were beginning to toughen up, the awakened were learning how to fight, and the unawakened were learning how to survive. The rift wasn’t just trying to kill them: it was forcing them to evolve.
At the edge of the camp, Mr. Fatars watched everything silently. His expression remained serious because, unlike the students, he knew sothing they didn’t. The situation was getting worse... far worse. The scouting teams had expanded their search radius considerably over the past three days. They had found traces of monsters, tracks, territories, ruins, and even entire ecosystems.
What they hadn’t found was Chloe or Silas. There was not a single clue. Not a footprint, or a piece of clothing. Nothing. It was as though the two had vanished from existence.
Mrs. Loraine approached him.
"No signs?"
"Nothing," Mr. Fatars shook his head.
"Three days," Her face darkened.
"I know."
"We should have found sothing."
"I know."
Silence followed. Eventually, Mrs. Loraine lowered her voice.
"The students are starting to lose hope."
Mr. Fatars looked toward the camp, toward the frightened teenagers trying desperately to act brave, and sighed.
"No."
"No?" Mrs. Loraine frowned.
"They’ve already accepted that Silas and Chloe are probably dead."
The words sounded cruel, but they were true. The students had stopped asking, wondering, and hoping. The missing pair had slowly beco ghosts.
Mr. Fatars clenched his fist. Everyone else could give up, be wouldn’t because he knew Silas. The boy was stubborn, annoying, and infuriating for no reason, but he was also absurdly difficult to kill. He had firsthand experience in that.
"If anyone can survive this place," Mr. Fatars muttered, "it’s that little nace."
"You’re talking about the sa student you wanted expelled. The sa kid you wanted to break during P.E. We all saw what you were doing." Mrs. Loraine almost smiled.
"I’ve made mistakes."
"A rare admission."
"Don’t get used to it."
anwhile, hundreds of kiloters away, a massive orc funeral was taking place, and at the center of it all stood the pink-haired nace himself. Silas Ashard, the guy responsible for killing an Orc Chieftain, the guy currently being stared at by hundreds of angry orcs. Sohow, the whole orc village of Groka had found its way to his location. The guy was sohow trying to convince them not to start another war. Needless to say, it wasn’t going very well.
Reviews
All reviews (0)