"Huff—" Asher wheezed as he tied a strip of cloth tightly around his wounded palm.
"I hate this," he muttered, biting down on the fabric and pulling to knot it firmly.
The pain throbbed through his hand. He clicked his tongue in frustration—just as the ground trembled again beneath him.
Something big was happening outside. No doubt. But first, he had to get out of here.
The heavy dungeon doors groaned as he stepped into the scorching light.
And then—
BOOM!
A shockwave slammed into him. Dust and sand tore at his face. He turned away, shielding his eyes."Bawh—!" he spat grit from his mouth, coughing. "Ugh… I just want to sleep," he groaned.
With a grimace, Asher summoned his sword. Pain flared in his hand, but he ignored it, cracking his neck and pushing forward.
In the distance, he saw it—
That grotesque, familiar monster.
"The hell did I say," Asher muttered. "Tried to warn all of you."
He paused, weighing his options. Maybe he could sit this out. Let Eurys and the others deal with the Skinwalker. It was an awakened terror, after all.
But he sighed.
"I have to do something."
He moved, wading through chaos. Blood painted the streets. Civilians huddled behind debris. Some were crushed beneath it. Children sobbed—freshly orphaned. Guards knelt beside fallen comrades, trembling.
Asher's stomach twisted."This is a dream," he whispered, trying to steady himself. "An illusion. None of this is real."
He gripped his sword tighter. "None of it."
Eventually, he spotted them—
Eurys, locked in battle with the Skinwalker, flanked by four other Awakened.
"Hey Eurys! I'm here to help!" Asher shouted. His voice cracked, hoarse from earlier screams.
Still, it caught their attention. The Awakened turned toward him, stunned.
"And clarify that I'm not part of that thing!" he added, pointing toward the Skinwalker.
Eurys looked a bit hesitant but quickly nodded. The others seemed to relax around him—at least slightly.
'Well, that's one misunderstanding cleared up.' Asher sighed in relief.
'Still..' there seemed to only be 5 awakened in this town, one of whom Asher killed. But including Eurys, there are only 5 people who could fight this thing, the rest are canon fodder, including Asher himself of course!
He heard a splattering sound as he swallowed his bile. "Ah, nevermind. 4 awakened."
A sickening sound made his skin crawl. He turned—just in time to see a body rise from the blood-soaked ground.
"...Uhhh..."
The fallen Awakened.
Back on its feet.
Asher's eyes locked onto the glowing orb in its solar plexus—once bright, now dark.He narrowed his gaze, then looked toward the Skinwalker's main body.
He grinned.
"knew it"
four orbs embedded in the main body. That meant…
"Eurys!" Asher yelled. "The cores! There are only four in the main body!—two in the ones it's taken over!"
Maybe in the future, Skinwalkers could take bodies without transferring soul cores, but this one wasn't there yet.
This one still had rules.
The Awakened froze for a split second, staring at Asher in disbelief. Even Eurys faltered.It was just enough time.
The Skinwalker twitched—its flesh convulsed.
Tentacles surged outward, merging into massive arms—each four meters long.From the center, a humanoid horror emerged. Its upper body protruded, meat sloughing off in chunks, face curled in something almost like a grin.
One Awakened was flung like a ragdoll, crashing through a nearby house in a cloud of dust.Another screamed as his arm was severed clean.
Asher blinked, a dawning realization settling in.
That was definitely his fault.
Eurys ducked beneath a bladed tentacle, gritting his teeth. "Are you sure?" he shouted across the chaos.
Asher squinted, trying to focus through the dust and blood."Of course you Idiot! If we kill its vessels, it should regress two classes!"
One of the uninjured Awakened fell back, stumbling closer to Asher. He flinched on instinct, his grip tightening on his sword.
"I'll take care of this one," the Awakened said, raising his weapon toward a reanimated corpse that staggered toward them. Its neck hung at an unnatural angle, head twitching like a puppet on broken strings.
"D-Don't... do this... Beaks..." the creature rasped, its voice warped but eerily familiar.
The Awakened froze. His sword wavered.Eyes wide. Face pale.
"Can't you see, Beaks~~" the thing crooned, smile stretching too wide, "I'm still alive…"
Asher felt his stomach turn. "Ugh.."
He glanced at the man—Beaks, apparently—and saw the doubt in his eyes.
Shit.
"H-Hey, man," Asher started, voice cracking. "T-That thing's not him! It's... it's trying to mess with you! Don't fall for it!"
Beaks turned to him, confused.
Asher's face slowly turned red.
'Damned social anxiety!'
'I was speaking so well with Eurys as well! To be fair, it was the damned circumstances but I spoke to that bitch of a guard as well! Oh, but that was also damned circumstances!'
Beaks blinked, clearly thrown off by Asher's stammering, then offered a shaky smile."A-Ah... yeah. Thanks."
Asher let out an agonized groan and dragged a hand down his face. Unidentified voices coming from him.
"I-I'm taking the merchant!" he declared, turning abruptly. "Wherever he is!"
Beaks only nodded, still rattled.
Asher sprinted off, refusing to look back.
"Curse it all!" Asher shouted into the chaos, his voice ragged, sword gripped tight.
A blur of movement—Wood splintered against his side as a wooden rod shattered on impact, driving jagged shards into his ribs.
"Son of a—!"
Before he could fully process the pain, a body crashed beside him. A guard. Blood pooled beneath the man—one arm gone, the stump twitching violently.
"Help! Please!" the guard gasped, voice weak.
Asher staggered, glancing down.
The man was maimed but alive.
Then something flickered in the corner of his vision.
He shoved his boot against the guard's abdomen, kicking off just as a blade slashed through the air
—THUNK!
A dagger buried itself deep into Asher's upper thigh, just where his heart would have been… if not for his quick thinking.
Pain tore through him like fire.
"Ghh—!"
He hit the ground, breath hitching. Blood soaked through his makeshift bandages, trickling down his leg.
Lifting his gaze, he froze.
From the broken silhouette of a crumbling house, the merchant emerged... Another knife glinted in his hand, his movements disturbingly calm. Wrong.
Asher's face went pale.
Panicking, he hurled his stone blade.
A desperate throw. It missed by a hair.
The merchant dodged easily, not even flinching. With unsettling grace, he pivoted straight toward the downed guard.
Steel flashed.
The guard gurgled.
The merchant stood over the corpse, eyes hollow and glassy, now wielding the dead man's sword.
Asher summoned his blade back into his hand with a sharp breath, forcing himself to stand. His leg screamed. Every step was agony.
The merchant turned.
Their eyes met.
Asher's voice came in hoarse gasps. "Looks like I don't need to find you…"
The merchant tilted his head slightly—then charged.
Asher tightened his grip, gritting his teeth.
"Come on then. Let's finish this."