Chương 22: Chapter Twenty-Two: Good Companion

Chapter Twenty-Two: Good Companion

The battle raged on. Dusken felt his muscles screaming with every motion, his limits drawing closer with each passing moment. Yet, what kept him going was sheer willpower.

The fight was ongoing in a forest where the soft breeze howled, sliced apart by the rampaging roots and the swift arcs of his longsword.

The once lush ground was now a battlefield, grasses uprooted and mangled in a ghastly display.

Amidst the chaos, the clash between the lone human and the relentless roots pressed on.

At last, Dusken broke free from the roots' encirclement. With a sharp motion, he unsummoned his card, causing it to vanish.

Behind him, the roots shot forward with terrifying speed, unwilling to let him escape. But they, like him, were only level one.

Without glancing back, he charged ahead. His face was pale, flushed with exertion and pain. Not far away, the beastman stared at him with blazing malice.

From its chest to its stomach, blood streamed like a crimson river. Gritting its teeth, the alien raised its hand. More roots erupted from the tree's trunk, darting toward Dusken.

A pained cough escaped the beastman, blood splattering onto the forest soil as veins bulged on its head. Dusken dashed left and right, slicing through roots as he went.

Finally, he reached the beastman, driving a powerful kick toward it. Weakly, it raised a trembling hand to block.

The collision rang out softly but sent a jolt of pain through Dusken's body. His foot, striking the beastman's strong bones, throbbed from the impact.

He staggered back, but the roots came for him again - some slicing through the air, others slithering along the ground.

Blood poured from the beastman's nose and pores, its overuse of power taking a heavy toll.

Dusken avoided the incoming roots as best he could, but one finally caught his foot. He stumbled, and more roots seized him, binding his arms and legs tightly.

His longsword hung loosely in his hand, swaying as if about to slip from his grasp.

Dusken struggled with all his might, but the bindings held firm. The beastman grinned madly, revealing blood-stained teeth.

"I've caught you," it growled, its voice thick with hatred. "A slave who dares to kill my brother… I will end your existence. I swear it. Today, you shall not survive."

For a brief moment, Dusken stopped struggling, a smirk tugging at his lips - cold, indifferent, and resolute.

His smile exuded unshakable confidence, and this was an unnerving sight for the beastman.

The alien hesitated, trembling under Dusken's gaze.

"A slave, you call me?" Dusken's voice cut through the tension, calm yet piercing.

"Take a good look. A mere slave killed your brother. A mere slave escaped your pursuit. And now… a mere slave shall end you."

His words echoed through the silent forest, devoid of emotions, like a sharp blade slicing into the beastman's heart.

'Survival, huh. I've been a fool.' Dusken thought with a bitter smile.

"At first," He continued, his voice low, "I thought I was the main character of this world, the heaven's chosen. But now, you have made me see the truth."

Dusken stopped all resistant as the roots tightened their grasp on him.

"There is no established main character in this land. Everyone is a main character, and everyone is also a side character. Only the victor has a voice."

Gritting his teeth to endure the pain from the root, he added:

"In this endless, perilous struggle for survival, there is no glory in dying. Survival is absolute, because survival means victory.

"And I will survive, not by destiny, but by defying all odds to shape my path. That is my goal. An unattainable wish… yet still worth pursuing."

As his words faded into the forest, the blade of his longsword dimmed, its glow replaced by a faint, dark flame.

Dusken released the sword, letting it fall to the ground with a dull thud. The flame flickered, drifting toward his right arm before transforming into a dark, fiery tattoo.

A surge of strength coursed through Dusken. He felt his power double, though his body trembled under the strain. Dusken's eyes widened.

The dark flame hadn't enhanced his strength. It had improved his Abyssal energy instead.

It had made it double in quality, enhancing every fiber of his body that had energy flowing in it.

With newfound might, he tore through the roots binding him, ripping them apart with his bare hands.

His veins bulged, and his bones ached, but he pushed forward with unrelenting momentum.

Fear flashed across the beastman's face. Weak and bloodied, it drew a bow with trembling hands.

Blood pooled around its feet as it nocked an arrow and fired with great difficulty.

The arrow whistled through the air toward Dusken's head. Suddenly, an unknown power projected the arrow in his mind.

He immediately moved, dodging just in time, though roots seized him again. He bent down, picking his sword, and held it like a spear.

Channeling the dark flame in his body, he poured it into the blade, turning it ebony. The sword's dark blade gleamed under the rays of sunlight that penetrated the canopy of leaves.

With a low grunt, he hurled the weapon toward the beastman. The roots pressed down on him, pulling in all directions, but he ignored the pain.

The sword sped through the air with deadly precision, its momentum unstoppable.

The beastman raised its frail arms to shield its head, but the sword pierced through them, embedding itself in its skull.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. The beastman stared at Dusken with regret blazing in its fading eyes.

'If only I had run when I had the chance…' This was its last thought.

And then, it collapsed. Lifeless.

The roots binding Dusken stopped and slowly receded. Exhaustion washed over him, and he drew a deep breath.

Around him, the aftermath of battle lingered: uprooted grasses, mangled trees, and two lifeless bodies.

"I'm still too weak," he muttered, clenching his fists. "I should've killed them faster."

[You have slain a level-one awakened beastman.]

[Your abyss within grows darker.]

Negativity surged in Dusken's mind, but he let it flow through him. Hate, regret, anger, fear, and bloodlust coursed through his veins, bringing with them a faint increase in strength.

These emotions couldn't deter his resolve. If they were the price of power, so be it. He would welcome them as a good companion.

Before he tested whether he could control the dead beastmen's shadows, he heared footsteps. Someone - or something - was swiftly approaching his location.