Chapter 95: The Víctim
The chains inside him fractured irresistibly.
His face remained expressionless as always, but a strange mania began to grow. The hunt would be the perfect stage to test it.
It was a kind of hunger he had never experienced before. It existed, but was constantly repressed. A support that traced his own humanity.
But he would abandon them.
Before the trial began, he quickly checked his inventory. By inertia he found the object he wanted to check: The amulet.
It had been the gift from Baron Miracle, his reward.
His mood immediately dropped. Displeasure began to take root in him. The object was not exactly what he believed, despite coming from a kingdom full of illusions.
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[Ancient Amulet]
Status: Fragmented.
[Description: The fragment of an ancient and unknown amulet. It contains representations of a wolf and the moon. Can you devour the moon?]
Effects: Grants greater visibility, vitality, and concealment ability during the nights.
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That was not the amulet he remembered exactly. It had suffered countless changes regarding its original premise.
Is this the price of transforming a false object into a real one? At least it is more intuitive...
He was not wrong. Descriptions that explicitly managed to explain their functions had been rare on his journey.
Devour the moon? The moon will be my lover, he thought amused.
He would never waste any kind of advantage, so he delicately put it around his neck. It was a rustic necklace, extremely common, made with a stone and natural fiber cord. Runes were drawn on the stone, with crude figures that represented a wolf and the moon.
The trial would soon begin.
Like a signal arduously prepared, it arrived as a thief in the night. The heat vanished when the campfire suddenly lost its burning fire.
"Everyone, ready! The lord awaits us. Survive," said Abyss with a hoarse voice.
He was being assaulted by base feelings. For the first time he felt that he was not strong enough... That he could not protect his own.
Everyone nodded with solemnity; the weight of responsibility and loyalty hid behind their dark and empty pupils.
The darkness deepened. It traced a line that managed to divide them and finally swallowed them, until they could not distinguish their position. None expressed any surprise.
Gabriel felt the perfectly balanced weight of his daggers under his sleeves.
The darkness soon retreated, with light silver threads illuminating his face.
Nature grew wildly around them, creating a labyrinth of trees and vegetation. He had abandoned the safety of the campfire and had been abandoned in the open.
"A forest must be a great place for a hunt."
The only thing he still did not know was what they had to hunt. He did not discard the possibility that they were the ones who would be hunted. But one way or another, he would not allow himself to be dominated by pity again.
His nails were abnormally long, clean, and pale like the moonlight itself, longing for the deep crimson color.
A crimson sign appeared before him. It hung with an extremely ominous energy, transmitting a fetid stench of blood.
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[THE HUNT]
Are you a lamb or a wolf? In the phenomenon of witches, alliances are restrictively prohibited. Dance freely over the worthy corpses of your rivals. Demonstrate who you are.
Those who remain standing until the end will be rewarded. Employ all your methods.
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His daggers danced over his fingers. Apparently the challenge would be an entertaining gala. Where the most vicious personalities would begin to shape their terrible methods.
He had forbidden himself from forgetting the growing threat represented by all those extraordinary groups and individuals. The Church of Rhodes, the Fallen of Prometheus, the Despots, etc.
He immediately understood what his greatest advantage would be during the course of the challenge.
The night and the silence.
He would undertake the hunt of a predator over his fateful victims. He disappeared among the branches and the dense darkness that hid every movement. He patiently circled his surroundings, moving intuitively while performing a scan.
He found his victim.
The forest, despite being intrinsically tangled, was not gigantic in its extension. His extremely advantageous vision over the darkness managed to perceive a hooded figure advancing by feel.
It was his perfect trial. Even so he did not hurry, learning about its habits. He followed its tracks with utmost patience.
With an unnatural step, his victim advanced with an almost dead expression. Its attire and behavior revealed that it was one of the famous members of the Despots.
The thirst for blood threatened to cloud his senses and reason. It was not the desire for revenge that burned inside him, awakening his rage; it was the desire to turn it into a step of his ascension, to step on its bones and rise as a superior beast.
He calmed his senses at that instant. He accidentally stepped on a brittle branch and his prey was alerted. But he knew those thoughts did not belong to him.
His thirst for blood was forcibly imposed. For an unknown reason it awakened inside him upon observing the other participant of the hunt.
It must be part of the trial. Losing control so easily. The forest should become a slaughterhouse soon.
The member of the Despots had already begun to flee. Cutting through the trees, its breathing became intermittent. The most terrifying thing is that it did not recognize where the danger came from.
He became a shadow behind it. He became the twilight that threatened to devour its victim. He observed how its behavior turned erratic.
The Despot, without exits, took out an alchemical object from its cloak and threw it from where it intuitively sensed the danger. It was a bomb that contained a very toxic smoke. It exploded with pomp at one moment.
Useless.
He dodged it with insulting ease, extending his figurative wings. He arrived like a blur in front of the desperate man and drove his daggers into its chest. But strangely a smile appeared on its face upon finally seeing its pursuer.
The only thing it did not count on was Gabriel’s experience. He had already faced the extremely heretical methods of the forbidden alchemists.
He connected a right hook that destroyed its jaw, scattering teeth and blood, while disappearing again into the shadows.
The Despot managed to recover quickly. It had a terrifying degree of recovery. But its eyes were no longer empty.
There was concern and lack of will, which was erased in an instant. The emptiness had resurfaced. And its limbs lost strength, as if its autonomy had disappeared.
It opened its bloodied mouth and directly swallowed a wet linen bag.
It had happened so quickly that Gabriel had only managed to observe the entire process. His expression hardened; he knew that something truly bad would happen next.
But he would not abandon his prey for that reason.
In front of him a bizarre transformation occurred. Nature was practically transgressed at that moment, when its human physiology began to twist like an insect and finally it turned into a repulsive monster.
It howled in agony.
When it was standing on its two feet, ready to bring the chaos and pain that had been provoked in it, the monster felt an unknown weight on its neck. Its vision darkened, bringing peace to its yellowish eyes.
Its brain had been destroyed into thousands of disconnected pieces, being scattered across the earth and the roots.
"This will be your tomb," Gabriel murmured.
He had extensive experience with enormous creatures. They always had a weak point and it was generally found in their heads. He only had to penetrate it to discover it.
He covered his hands with the fetid blood of the monster. The member of the strange order had turned into that. And finally he murdered it in a test of strength.
Lions did not make truces with men.
The warm blood began to give off a dense energy that he absorbed with gluttony. Inside him his system boiled, with the adrenaline and the emotion of the hunt. His hunger grew and he devoured the formerly vital and corrupted body.
In his deepest instincts, he sensed that his control had increased. Leviathan’s Gluttony no longer sought to devour him with the same energy with which it consumed others. For the first time it worked in a balanced synergy.
It seemed strangely moved by his new philosophy of devouring others. Like two twin flames that reunite at the end of the river of destiny.
At least he was no longer a rabid dog that sought to bite its owner’s hand.
But his thoughts quickly concluded in a surprising avenue.
Did the skills have degrees of mastery?
The evolution routes were normal in that class of video games. But he had not considered a mastery system for an innate skill.
Because it would suppose an immeasurable advantage: growth.
A divine skill like Leviathan’s Gluttony would know no limits. He needed only to know the path.