One of them lunged.
Kael reacted on instinct. His mind went dark, thoughts stripped down to a single thread:
Kill.
The creatures hurled themselves at the group like rabid animals.
One went straight for Jack, jaws snapping at his throat.
Jack roared, twisting mid-air, and slammed it to the ground with brute strength.
Another launched at Serah.
She barely dodged, stumbling back just as its claws slashed where her face had been.
It crouched to leap again—when a stone knife stabbed it from behind.
Nia.
Silent, precise.
Assassin-level reflexes.
The creature staggered, but didn't fall.
It let out a sound—somewhere between a snarl and a laugh.
Its twisted head turned slowly toward the girls.
Still smiling.
And then came Kael's turn.
He stood his ground, a jagged branch clutched like a spear.
The monster came at him fast—too fast.
Kael sidestepped, but not cleanly.
A claw raked across his chest, tearing through his shirt and skin.
Hot blood spilled down his ribs.
He grunted but didn't fall.
Instead, he drove the sharpened branch forward, aiming for the thing's eye.
It darted away at the last second, graceful in a way something that ugly shouldn't be.
The two of them reset—circling.
Kael's chest heaved. Blood soaked his front. He could feel the sting now, but he pushed it down.
"Alright," he muttered through clenched teeth. "Let's see what this trash rune can actually do."
He activated [Flicker].
The air shimmered.
The monster paused, eyes narrowing. Its body tensed—ready to counter.
A spark ignited in Kael's palm.
A glow.
Soft. Weak. Pathetic.
That was it.
Just a flicker.
The thing blinked.
Even it looked disappointed.
Kael stared at his hand. The light sputtered and died like a broken lighter.
He sighed.
"Of course. Should've known."
No divine burst.
No world-ending blast.
Just... ambiance.
The monster growled again, inching forward, sure of its kill now.
Kael dropped the sarcasm. Dropped the sigh.
And ran straight at it.
Stick raised. Heart hammering. Rage leading the charge.
If this was how he died—fine.
But he'd make damn sure it hurt.
Kael screamed as he lunged forward, stabbing the broken branch like a makeshift spear.
The monster caught it mid-thrust, claws curling around the wood with unnatural speed and strength.
Its lips peeled back, revealing rows of black, jagged teeth.
Kael didn't think.
He slammed his foot into the creature's chest.
The impact jolted up his leg, but it barely moved.
It snarled, breath hot and rancid against his face, and lashed out with a clawed hand.
Pain sliced across his ribs.
He staggered, the branch nearly ripped from his hands.
Gritting his teeth, he twisted and drove the splintered end deeper—felt it scrape something hard, maybe bone, maybe not.
Snap.
The branch broke.
Kael gasped.
The monster grinned.
"Shit," he muttered—then ducked just in time as the claws came again, ripping through empty air where his throat had been.
It shrieked and lunged.
Kael tackled it.
He didn't know how.
Didn't know why.
His body moved before thought could catch up.
He wrapped his arms around its midsection and threw it to the ground.
They rolled in a blur of blood and dirt and fury.
Claws tore into his arms.
Fangs scraped his jaw.
Kael screamed back, all fury and fear, and slammed his elbow into its face.
Once.
Twice.
He grabbed the jagged half of the stick and jammed it into the creature's eye socket.
It thrashed beneath him—howling, shrieking—black blood pouring from its ruined face.
"Die!" Kael bellowed, voice raw and trembling.
The creature clawed at his side, shredding skin, but Kael didn't stop.
He raised the stick and brought it down again.
And again.
And again.
Punching when the wood broke.
Slamming his fists into pulped flesh.
The thing was already dead—but Kael couldn't stop.
He didn't feel dead.
He felt alive.
Like something inside him had snapped loose.
When the noise stopped—when his body finally gave in—Kael knelt there, covered in gore, trembling.
And then—like a whisper inside his skull:
###
[Voice of the Void ]
[You have slain [Abyssal Wretch: Rank 1].]
[+10 Soul Essence acquired.]
###
Kael sucked in a breath, sharp and ragged.
His vision swam.
His knuckles were torn.
His arms burned. Blood—his and the monster's—soaked his shirt and dripped from his chin.
He looked up.
The others were staring.
Jack, bruised but standing. Serah clutching her weapon. Nia breathing hard, face unreadable.
Their kills had been fast.
Precise.
Clean.
Kael's had been... personal.
Too personal.
He stood slowly, swaying on his feet.
"Thanks for the help," he said flatly. "Really appreciated the teamwork."
No answer.
Just a silence thick enough to choke on.
Then—
A sound.
Like bones breaking.
Like something heavy crawling over wood.
Kael turned his head upward.
Dozens of red eyes gleamed in the canopy.
Figures moved—twisting, crawling, stretching limbs that bent the wrong way.
A chorus of snarls rose like a warning siren from hell.
Kael's blood turned cold.
He barely managed to whisper—
"...It's not over."
It's just begun.