Maximilian remained perched on the sturdy branch, his golden eyes scanning the forest below. The adrenaline had worn off, replaced by a focused calm. He could hear the villagers moving through the underbrush, their clumsy footsteps loud and uncoordinated.
[Survival Time Remaining: 43:00]
He took a deep breath, steadying himself. He couldn't afford to stay in one place for too long. The forest was dense, and he knew how to blend in if he used his surroundings wisely.
The system chimed softly.
[Status Update: Enhanced endurance at 40%. Recovery advised.]
He grit his teeth. Resting wasn't an option. Not with the humans combing through the forest like a swarm of ants. He needed to stay ahead of them—and, if possible, break their morale.
A sudden rustle to his left made him freeze. One of the villagers—a younger man, wielding a crude spear—wandered too close to one of the snare traps. In a flash, the sapling snapped upright, the vine looping around the man's ankle and yanking him off the ground. He hung upside down, screaming in panic.
The cries alerted the others. Maximilian moved before they could gather, silently hopping to a neighboring tree, careful not to shake the branches. From his new vantage point, he saw two more villagers approach the trapped man, cutting him down and whispering harshly about being cautious.
Maximilian felt a dark thrill rush through him. They were getting paranoid. Good.
[Survival Tip: Psychological warfare can weaken enemy resolve.]
His eyes narrowed. The forest was his ally. He could use their fear against them.
Sliding down the trunk with cat-like grace, he landed without a sound, his wings folded tight against his back. He circled behind the group of villagers, listening to their nervous conversation.
"Did you see its eyes?" one whispered. "Like a demon. Should we even be doing this?"
"The chief said it's a monster. If we let it live, it'll destroy the whole village," another hissed.
A plan formed in Maximilian's mind. He needed to make them doubt themselves even more. Moving swiftly, he gathered a few sharp stones and leaves, setting them in a pattern that resembled a ritual circle. Then he snapped a few branches nearby, letting them echo through the forest.
The villagers whipped around, spears raised. One spotted the crude circle and gasped. "It's casting spells! It's trying to curse us!"
Maximilian stifled a smirk. He moved to another spot, kicked some loose dirt, and rustled the leaves. More whispers. More fear.
Slowly, he led them in circles, forcing them deeper into the forest. As they passed his traps, two more were caught—one by the leg, hoisted into the air, another by the arm, pulled against a tree trunk. The remaining villagers looked ready to drop their weapons and run.
[Survival Time Remaining: 30:00]
Halfway there. He couldn't lose momentum now.
Maximilian crept closer, his movements almost ghost-like, keeping his footsteps silent. He saw the leader of the group—a burly man with a thick beard—gathering the remaining villagers around him.
"We can't keep chasing it," one of them argued. "What if it's not a monster? What if we're just attacking some poor soul?"
"It's no man!" the leader snapped. "You saw the wings! The horns! It's evil! We have to kill it before it curses the village."
Maximilian's anger flared. They didn't understand. They never did. He wasn't the monster they made him out to be.
Just as he was about to step forward, a new thought crossed his mind. Maybe he didn't need to fight them. Maybe he just needed to show them something they couldn't comprehend.
[Tip: Use illusion to disorient and intimidate.]
A dark smile crept onto his lips. Focusing his energy, especially his astral sand he dove into the psyche of the ones trying to hunt him, and conjured their fear as a faint, spectral image of himself, towering and demonic, eyes burning with golden fire. He let it flicker through the shadows, passing between the trees just far enough for the villagers to glimpse.
"There! Over there!" one cried, pointing, his hands shaking.
Maximilian moved his Construct again, letting it flicker behind them. The group spun around, spears raised. He made the apparition lunge at them, roaring with a sound that seemed to rattle the very ground.
They screamed and scattered, running in different directions, tripping over roots and vines. One dropped his spear entirely, dashing for the kingdom without looking back.
[Survival Time Remaining: 15:00]
Maximilian climbed into the branches again, watching as the remaining few struggled to regroup. The leader looked pale, his confidence cracked.
He let the construct approach slowly from the right, while he himself moved to the left. In a synchronized move, the Construct let out a bone-chilling scream while Maximilian rustled the bushes. The leader dropped his weapon, stumbling back.
"It's a demon! We never should have messed with it!" he shouted, finally breaking. The rest followed his lead, bolting for the forest edge, abandoning their wounded and trapped comrades.
Silence settled over the trees, broken only by the soft whimpers of those caught in his snares. Maximilian felt his pulse slow, the danger fading.
[Survival Time Remaining: 02:00]
He leaned against a tree, allowing himself a moment of rest. His wings ached, his muscles throbbed from constant tension. But he wasn't defeated. He had survived.
Two minutes passed with nothing but the sound of wind through the leaves.
[Ding!]
[Mission Complete: Survive for One Hour]
[Reward: Teleportation initializing ]
Maximilian exhaled, letting his shoulders relax. The system's chime was comforting this time, a reminder that he had done what was needed.
The villagers wouldn't forget this night—the night they had faced what they believed was a monster and barely escaped with their lives.
As the moon rose higher, Maximilian took one last look at the fading lights of the village. He knew they would speak of him with fear, but perhaps that was better than hatred. At least they would leave him alone now.
Energy intensified, wrapping around him like an unseen force. It pulsed in time with his own heartbeat, an ancient, undeniable rhythm.
****
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