Tilus walks the ruined streets, his boots crushing shattered glass and ash. The air is thick with the stench of rot—a grotesque mixture of blood, smoke, and something else, something far worse. Screams echo in the distance, cut short with sickening finality. The city falls apart faster than he ever expected. He opened the shop and bought a few items
[Mystic Eyes of Appraisal Lv1 – 10000 Coins]
Allows analysis of objects, people, and monsters, revealing strengths, weaknesses, and hidden traits.[Basic Swordsmanship Lv1 x5 – 1500 Coins]
Enhances attack precision and defense. Reaching Lv5 grants increased speed, strength, and mastery with swords.[Speed Enhancement Lv1 – 300 Coins]
Allows rapid, silent dashes over short distances.[Emergency Toolkit – 1000 Coins]
Includes a Teleportation Charm, Smoke Bombs, and a Stabilizer Pill.
The WTR influence spikes again—9%. Just a number, yet it dictates the horror unfolding around him. The monsters have adapted, becoming faster, stronger, and far more relentless. Humans aren't evolving at the same rate; if anything, they are breaking faster.
His gaze sweeps over a collapsed building where a group of survivors huddle against a broken wall. But they aren't alone. The Cursed Urn Fiends are among them—grotesque figures draped in shadow, their bodies little more than half-decayed corpses animated by the eerie glow of an ancient, cracked urn floating behind them. Each time one is felled, another rises, stitched together from the remnants of the fallen. The urns must be destroyed—a single weak point amid an endless tide of regenerating nightmares.
Tilus knows better than to interfere. His instincts scream at him to walk away. Survival comes first. But then he sees her.
Jasmine.
Dust-covered and bruised, her eyes burn with desperate determination as she swings a rusted pipe at one of the reanimated infected, barely keeping it at bay. She is alive.
He clenches his fists. Every rational part of his mind demands that he turn and leave. The chance of survival is slim—he could die here. He should leave.
Instead, he moves. A breath, a sprint, then a leap into the fray, blade drawn.
[Speed Enhancement Lv1 Activated.]
A surge of power floods his limbs, his muscles tightening like coiled springs. The world blurs as he dashes past the incoming fiends, weaving between rotting limbs and clawed hands. His eyes lock onto the floating urns, each one pulsating with an eerie glow.
With a single swing, his blade cleaves through the first jar, shattering it into shards of cursed porcelain. The fiend attached to it shrieks, its body convulsing before crumbling to dust.
One down.
Tilus pivots, dodging the swipe of another infected, its decayed fingers narrowly missing his shoulder. Another urn hovers just behind the next wave of infected. He grits his teeth, adjusts his grip, and lunges forward.
Steel meets ceramic, another urn shatters.
Two down.
The battlefield shifts. The remaining fiends waver, their grotesque bodies flickering as their tether to unholy existence weakens. Tilus wastes no time, dashing toward the last jar with relentless speed.
He leaps, twisting mid-air, and brings his weapon crashing down.
The final urn explodes into fragments. The last of the fiends lets out one final agonized wail before collapsing into dust.
Tilus lands with a sharp breath, his heart pounding. He turns to Jasmine, offering a hand.
"Still alive?" he asks, his voice steady despite the chaos.
She takes his hand, gripping it tightly. "For now."
Tilus exhales sharply, catching his breath. For a moment, it feels like they have a chance. Then, his eyes flick toward the sky.
A low, guttural roar vibrates through the air. The shadows twist, stretching unnaturally along the ruined street. From above, something massive slithers between the broken buildings, its abyssal form coiling through the smog-laden sky.
The Abyssal Serpent.
A creature that should be bound to the ocean, yet here it is, flying through the ruined city, its obsidian scales glinting in the dim light. Its piercing, glowing eyes lock onto them.
Tilus tightens his grip on his weapon. It is powerful... maybe he can take it down before it—
The WTR rate flickers.
[WTR Influence: 9% → 10%]
[Monsters' Restriction Has Been Partly Removed. Monsters Can Now Roam the Streets to Hunt.]
His breath hitches. Then, before his very eyes, the Abyssal Serpent's status flickers.
[Abyssal Serpent - Lv. 35 → Lv. 50]
Tilus' entire body freezes.
The WTR rate has increased by only a single percentage, yet the monster before him undergoes a horrifying transformation. Its body lengthens, its scales sharpen like razors, and the air around it thickens with an overwhelming pressure. Its eyes, once dull and predatory, now burn with an intelligence that makes Tilus shudder.
This is no longer a beast that can be brought down with a well-placed strike. This is something else entirely.
The Abyssal Serpent's jaws open wide, revealing rows of teeth sharp enough to carve through steel. A deep, rumbling hiss reverberates in the air, sending chills down his spine.
"This… was a mistake," Tilus mutters.
Before he can react, the serpent lunges.
A blur of black scales and searing wind rushes toward them. Tilus barely has time to shove Jasmine out of the way before the impact sends him flying. His body slams into the cracked pavement, the taste of iron filling his mouth. He forces himself up, his vision spinning. Jasmine is a few feet away, clutching her side, her breath ragged.
This isn't like before. Last time when he faced Bloodfeast, he escaped unscathed. But now—
The monster is faster. Stronger. Smarter.
And it isn't alone.
More creatures skitter from the shadows, drawn by the shift in WTR. Tilus clenches his fists, feeling the weight of his earlier arrogance.
He thought he could take it on. He thought he had time.
He is wrong.
Tilus lunges forward, seizing Jasmine's wrist in a bruising grip.
"Run," he gasps.
No hesitation. No second chances.
This time, escaping with their lives would be a miracle.
[Speed Enhancement Lv1 → Lv5 Activated.]
[1000 Coins Consumed.]
A surge of raw energy shoots through his legs, muscles straining as he pushes forward at a speed he has never reached before. The world blurs, the ruined cityscape streaking past as he drags Jasmine along. The Abyssal Serpent shrieks behind them, the wind pressure of its pursuit sending debris flying in all directions.
Faster. He needs to go faster.
Tilus grits his teeth and pushes the skill to its limit. His veins burn, his vision darkens at the edges, but he can't stop. Not yet.
The ground beneath them trembles. More monsters stir, drawn by the chaos. Shadows twist, hungry eyes gleam from alleyways, and the very air seems to suffocate him.
Tilus forces himself forward, ignoring the warning bells ringing in his head.
Then, everything turns black.
—
Pain.
Tilus' body feels like it has been run over by a collapsing building. His limbs are heavy, his mind sluggish, and his throat dry as sandpaper. He forces his eyes open, vision swimming before settling on a dimly lit space.
A restaurant?
His fingers twitch against cold tiles. Nearby, a few toppled chairs and shattered plates litter the floor. He can faintly hear the distant echoes of monsters outside, but in here, it is eerily silent.
Slowly, he turns his head. Against the wall, a wooden board lies tilted, the faded letters barely legible in the dim light.
H&S Restaurant.
Jasmine sits near the doorway, her arms wrapped around her knees, exhaustion evident in her posture. Her clothes are torn, dust and grime streak her face, but she is breathing. Alive.
She must have dragged them here.
Tilus exhales, the weight of his recklessness settling over him. He almost got them both killed.
He swallows hard and forces himself to sit up.
"Jasmine…"
She looks up, relief flickering in her tired eyes. "You're awake."
He tries to smile, but even that feels too exhausting. "Looks like… you saved me."
She scoffs, shaking her head. "Don't push your luck. You owe me."
Tilus lets out a breathless chuckle, then winces as pain shoots through his body. He has survived, but at what cost?
His attention shifts as he notices others in the room.
A tall, broad-shouldered man with a scar on his face stands near the window, his arms crossed. He looks like someone who has been through hell and is ready for more.
"Yo, you awake?" he says as he walks over to him.
"Yeah, thank you for taking us in," Tilus shows his gratitude.
"Not yet, that's on the leader's choice anyhow I'm Harold," the man says. "That four-eye over there is Ethan."
Then there is a leaner guy with sharp eyes, sitting while sharpening a knife, occasionally glancing at Tilus.
"Those two are Lila and Josh," he explains, pointing to the pair huddled near the back, whispering to each other.
Tilus looks around. A few more figures linger in the shadows, their gazes wary, unwilling to introduce themselves just yet.
"Oh, and they are—"
"Harold, he doesn't accept them yet; no need to introduce everyone," says a girl with a ponytail and a sword strapped to her arm as she looks at Tilus and Jasmine.
"Don't be so stiff, Cindy; you scared Jasmine," a girl with a ponytail hugs Jasmine from behind.
Mindy. Cindy.
He has read those names in the journal.
Tilus' eyes narrow. His heart pounds as he activates [Mystic Eyes of Truth].
Their information flickers before him—
No Blessings.
Impossible.
Everyone who has survived this long should have a blessing, even a weak one if they passed Stage 1. Was the journal wrong? Or is there something else at play here?
He looks around him; no one here has blessings either.
Before he can dwell on it, Mindy waves at them with a confident smirk, leaning against a broken table and gesturing toward a doorway. "You two should meet our leader."
Cindy, standing beside her with arms crossed, nods. "Yeah. Mortem wants to talk to you two."
Tilus frowns. "Mortem?"
Ethan snorts. "He's the reason we're still alive."
Harold chuckles darkly. "If you don't piss him off."