Chapter 65 - 64: First Blood in Eldilon(part 2 )
For several long seconds, nobody moved.
Thousands of survivors stood frozen across the vast grassland, their eyes locked on the enormous corpse lying at Alexander’s feet.
Dark emerald blood seeped from the creature’s ruined neck, staining the vibrant green grass beneath it. Steam rose faintly from the wound where the broken blade had pierced its exposed gills, carrying with it a strange metallic scent unlike anything found on Earth.
The monster was dead.
Not driven back.
Not wounded.
Killed.
The impossible had become reality.
A man clutching a bent length of steel pipe stared at the corpse with trembling hands.
"...It died."
His voice barely rose above a whisper.
A young woman still gripping a kitchen knife looked from the fallen creature to Alexander, disbelief written across her face.
"He... he actually killed it."
More heads turned.
Dozens.
Then hundreds.
Hope, fragile enough to shatter with a single touch, began to appear where only terror had existed moments before.
Then a scream ripped through the field.
It was so raw that it seemed to tear the silence apart.
Everyone flinched.
Another monster barreled into a cluster of fleeing survivors less than a hundred meters away. Its massive claws swept across the crowd, hurling bodies through the air as though they weighed nothing.
The spell was broken.
The battle wasn’t over.
There were still five monsters.
Alexander stepped forward.
"The gills!" he shouted, his voice carrying across the battlefield with practiced authority. "The slits on the neck! That’s the weak point!"
Nearby survivors turned instinctively.
"The scales are armor!" he continued. "Don’t waste your strength attacking them. Aim for the gills!"
For a heartbeat, nobody reacted.
Then a middle-aged man carrying a fire axe pointed toward Alexander.
"You heard him!"
"The neck!"
"The neck is the weak point!"
The words spread from person to person.
"The gills!"
"Attack the neck!"
"They can be killed!"
Knowledge raced through the battlefield faster than panic ever could.
Not everyone believed it.
Not everyone heard it.
But enough did.
A group of six survivors abandoned their desperate attempts to strike a monster’s armored chest and began circling it instead.
Two men rushed in from opposite sides, swinging pipes to draw its attention.
The creature roared and lunged toward them.
That single moment of distraction was enough.
A young woman sprinted in from behind, driving the pointed end of a broken shovel into the gill beneath its jaw.
Dark blue blood erupted from the wound.
The monster staggered.
Before it could recover, another survivor buried a fire axe into the same opening.
The creature collapsed with a thunderous crash.
Cheers erupted nearby.
They had done it.
Not far away, another group met a crueler fate.
Three men charged together, shouting to build their courage.
One never reached the monster.
A claw punched through his chest before he could even raise his weapon.
The second slipped on blood-soaked grass and disappeared beneath the creature’s feet.
Only the third reached its neck.
His spear struck true.
The monster died.
So did he.
Its jaws closed around his shoulder before collapsing, dragging both of them into the grass.
Victory and tragedy existed side by side.
Across the battlefield, people began adapting.
Some formed groups without exchanging a single word.
Some distracted the monsters while others searched desperately for an opening.
Complete strangers threw themselves into danger so someone else could attack.
Others sacrificed themselves knowing they would never walk away.
A gray-haired woman shoved two frightened children behind her before swinging a rusted machete at an approaching monster. She never landed a second strike, but her actions gave another survivor enough time to drive a sharpened metal rod through the creature’s exposed gills.
Nearby, a young man ignored his own bleeding arm to drag an injured elderly stranger out of a monster’s path.
Not everyone chose courage.
Some continued running.
Some abandoned others to save themselves.
Fear still ruled many hearts.
But amidst the chaos, humanity refused to disappear entirely.
Little by little, the balance shifted.
The monsters remained stronger.
Faster.
Far more resilient than anything humanity had faced on Earth.
Yet they bled.
They could be wounded.
And they could die.
The final creature let out a deafening roar before collapsing beneath a barrage of desperate attacks aimed at its exposed neck.
Silence gradually spread across the clearing.
This time, it wasn’t born from shock.
It was born from exhaustion.
Bodies lay scattered across the endless field.
Some belonged to monsters.
Far too many belonged to people who would never stand again.
The beautiful meadow had become a battlefield.
Survivors wandered through the aftermath in a daze.
Some laughed hysterically, unable to believe they had survived.
Others fell to their knees beside lifeless bodies, their grief spilling into the open air as they called names that would never be answered.
Many simply sat where they were, staring blankly at nothing.
Their minds had reached a limit beyond which they could no longer process reality.
Alexander remained where he stood.
His shoulder throbbed from where the monster had thrown him. Cuts and bruises covered his body, and dried emerald blood stained his jacket and hands.
He tore a strip of cloth from the ruined remains of his sleeve and quietly wiped the alien blood from his skin.
It was thicker than human blood.
Almost luminous beneath the morning sun.
His gaze slowly lifted.
The landscape stretched endlessly before him.
Rolling grasslands swayed beneath a gentle breeze.
Ancient forests stood proudly in the distance, their towering canopies hiding whatever secrets lay within.
Snow-capped mountains pierced the horizon beneath an impossibly blue sky.
It was breathtaking.
It was beautiful.
And it was unimaginably dangerous.
His eyes drifted toward the ancient forest.
Those six monsters had slaughtered countless survivors within minutes.
Then a notification resurfaced in his mind.
[Protection Period: One Eldilon Month has been activated.]
Protection.
The word carried a different meaning now.
If a protection period existed...
Then these monsters were probably among the weakest threats this world had to offer.
Otherwise, there would have been nothing left to protect.
Which meant something stronger was out there.
Much stronger.
Alexander’s expression remained unchanged.
He silently hoped his family had survived long enough to reach Eldilon.
If they had...
Then they were somewhere on this vast continent.
Somewhere beneath this same sky.
He had no idea where to begin looking.
It didn’t matter.
He would grow stronger.
Strong enough to survive whatever Eldilon threw at him.
Strong enough to cross kingdoms, forests, mountains, or entire continents if he had to.
And if his family had made it to this world...
He would stop at nothing to find them.
The battlefield gradually settled into an uneasy silence.
It wasn’t truly quiet.
Soft sobs drifted across the open plain. Somewhere in the distance, someone called a loved one’s name over and over, refusing to accept that no answer would come. Others sat among the bodies, too exhausted to cry, staring blankly at the blood-soaked grass beneath their feet.
Alexander slowly exhaled.
His shoulder throbbed from where the monster had thrown him. Countless bruises ached beneath his clothes, and several shallow cuts stung whenever the breeze brushed against them.
Compared to many others...
He had gotten off lightly.
The moment his breathing steadied, dozens of translucent blue windows suddenly exploded into view before his eyes.
[You have slain a Level 3 Razormaw.]
[Experience Gained.]
[Level Increased.]
[Skill Acquired.]
[Passive Skill Acquired.]
[Elemental Affinity Detected.]
[Compatibility Confirmed.]
[System Synchronization Complete.]
[...]
[...]
The notifications continued appearing one after another until they almost completely filled his vision.
Alexander frowned. "...Dismiss."
Instantly, most of the windows vanished.
Only a single notification remained.
[Status]
He selected it without hesitation.
A larger white window unfolded before him.
[ STATUS
Name: Alexander Hale
Age: 25
Level: 5 (126/1500 )
HP: 34/40
Spirit: 18/20
Physical Attack: 24
Agility: 20
Defense: 19
Mana: 120/120
Physical Potential: A
Mental Potential: A
Occupation: None
Overall Rank: Healthy
Elemental Affinity: Electricity
Skills:
Active Skills
• Dagger Mastery E
• Threat Assessment E
Passive Skills
• Enhanced Reflexes D
• Minor Pain Resistance D ]
Alexander silently reread every line.
Level Five.
His expression remained calm, but surprise flickered briefly through his thoughts.
He hadn’t expected to be that high.
Not because Level Five sounded impressive.
He had absolutely no idea how strong Level Five actually was.
What surprised him was something else entirely.
Most people hadn’t survived by hunting infected.
They had survived by hiding.
Running.
Barricading themselves inside homes.
He had spent nearly the entire apocalypse moving toward his family, and every infected that stood in his path had become another obstacle to remove.
Without realizing it...
Every battle had accumulated.
Every infected he had killed had quietly become experience.
By the time humanity arrived in Eldilon, he had unknowingly built a lead over the overwhelming majority of survivors.
His eyes continued scanning the panel.
Physical Potential. Mental Potential. Occupation. Elemental Affinity.
Each raised more questions than answers.
Electricity.
The word lingered in his thoughts.
So everyone possessed an affinity...
But couldn’t use it immediately.
Interesting.
He committed every detail to memory before closing the panel.
Information won battles long before weapons did.
A hesitant voice interrupted his thoughts. "...Alexander?"
He turned.
Cassandra stood a few steps away, watching him uncertainly.
Blue light reflected in her eyes.
"You can see those windows too?"
He nodded once. "Yes."
"I... I think mine says I have notifications." She looked almost afraid to touch them. "How do I open it?"
Alexander walked over.
"Focus on the notification you want."
She frowned in concentration.
A moment later, another blue window appeared before her.
Her eyes widened.
"It worked."
Cassandra focused on the translucent window only she could see.
Her eyes widened slightly as another panel unfolded before her.
She read silently, her expression changing from surprise to confusion, then finally to quiet disappointment.
[ STATUS
Name: Cassandra Witmoore
Age: 24
Level: 1 (45/100)
HP: 18/20
Spirit: 9/10
Physical Attack: 12
Agility: 8
Defense: 7
Mana: 80/80
Physical Potential: C
Mental Potential: B
Occupation: None
Overall Rank: Healthy
Elemental Affinity: Water
Skills
Active: None
Passive Skills:
• Mother’s Instinct [Unique]
Effect: Heightens awareness of danger toward the unborn child and slightly reduces physical strain during pregnancy. ]
Cassandra stared quietly at the screen before lowering her eyes. "...Only Level One."
A faint smile crossed her lips, but it carried more disappointment than amusement. "I barely killed anything."
Alexander looked at her for a moment before shaking his head. "No."
She looked up.
"You survived." His voice remained steady. "You protected yourself when you had to."
His gaze drifted briefly toward the hand resting over her stomach. "You protected your child."
"You fought whenever there wasn’t another choice." He met her eyes again. "A level isn’t what decides whether someone is useful."
"For people who are still alive..." He glanced across the battlefield where countless survivors would never stand again. "...survival is the achievement."
Cassandra remained silent.
The tension in her shoulders slowly eased.
A moment later, her attention returned to the final line of her status.
"...Mother’s Instinct?" She read the description twice. "It wasn’t there before..."
Alexander studied her expression.
"It says it’s... a unique skill. Cassandra’s voice was filled with uncertainty.
Alexander frowned slightly.
Somehow...
The System had recognized the life growing inside her. Neither of them understood what that truly meant.
But Alexander had already learned enough today to know one thing. Nothing the System did was meaningless.