That night, under a moon veiled by drifting fog, Noctis executed a silent raid, slipping toward the den like a specter born of the dark. Heart hammering against his ribs, he ghosted through perimeter traps of his own making, breath shallow to evade detection. Near their fetid sleeping hollow—piled with rancid hides and gnawed bones—he spotted the prize: a scattered stash of crude arrows, flint-tipped and feather-fletched, sharp enough for goblin spite. Fingers trembling with adrenaline, he palmed a fistful, retreating into the gloom without a rustle. The risk sang in his veins, electric and alive, but the haul was gold—weapons to turn defense into death.
Curled under a fallen tangle of roots, damp earth cradling his battered frame, Noctis reflected in the quiet:
You spawned as prey, scrambling in terror. Now you're the knife slipping into their dreams. Fear cuts deeper than steel. Weakness demands strategy, not surrender. Monsters don't own adaptation—you do.
The system chimed softly as sleep tugged, a cool bloom in his mind:
[Skill Progression: Silent Movement (Minor)]
[Resource Acquired: Crude Arrows (x6), Bone Wire Reinforced Trap Kit]
He bared teeth into the darkness, a grim resolve twisting his smile. "Let tomorrow unleash teeth and claws. You'll shatter their lines, fracture their minds."
Night smothered the highlands as Noctis crouched hidden on a mist-shrouded ledge overlooking the goblin den, fog spilling like spectral rivers from chains strung between jagged mountain roots. It was the hour before dawn—the world's savage fulcrum, uncertainty birthing monsters. His eyes gleamed feral, exhaustion warring with predatory rage. Body swollen feverish from a week's unhealed wounds—slime burns itching like buried coals, gashes weeping under crusts—yet his will burned incandescent, untouchable.
Six days forged him: hiding's lessons in patience, running's in terrain, ambushes in precision. Suffering whetted those blades. Today diverged. Today, nightmare hunted monsters.
He slipped into clinging wet brush, patient as death. Belt bristled: sharpened goblin bones, twisted wire snares, stolen daggers, a scavenged chain length from a felled patrol. Steps deliberate—shadow-clinging, animal-path dodging, upwind to smother his scent. Hunter's grace claimed his battered form, every sinew kill-dedicated.
Dawn bled pale gold over the valley; first target emerged—a runt scout on far-perimeter watch, nosing pungent spore-trails Noctis had laced with false human musk. He observed minutes: nervous twitches, poke-rhythms. Let it "find" bait, then circle wind-silent.
Strike blurred: bone-wire garotte whipped around throat, yanking into roots. Thrashing claws scraped bark futilely; Noctis's grip iron, silencing gasps to wet gurgles until limp. No joy—lips thinned, emotion cauterized by memory of goblin mockery on day one, his blood pooling as they laughed. Payment. Equation balanced.
Corpse crevice-stuffed, underbrush undisturbed. Loot cold: chipped obsidian knife, meat scrap, green-berry pouch. Taken. Silence sown.
Dawn swelled, mist thinning. Noctis delved deeper, perimeter-hunting with honed craft: light-reflect scans, mud-footprint doubles, tree-sentry vigils. Senses taut—heart drumming calculated cadence.
Second goblin tracked by club-drag scars, tooth-scatters from night's gnaw. Meeting points mapped, trails criss-crossed.
Pause at moss-veiled rock for relief; Noctis counted three breaths, lunged rearward. Hiss-spin, spear-lash—he ducked muck-low, slashed ankle tendon in crimson arc. Stumble-screech; Noctis mounted, hands throat-crushing, blade inward-thrusting practiced-grim. Blood fresh on leg-slash, hands steady. Gaze held till light dimmed; blade grass-wiped. Rage caged by logic—necessity, not hate.
Corpses rigged: branch-throat jams, leaf-buries. Scent-delay odds weighed.
Machine-mind whirred variables. Third: pockmarked water-patroller, stream shrinking from poison-touch. Half-hour tail: sniff-pauses, scratch-rituals, bravado posturing. Shadow-attack: leg-skid, knife-flash. Club battered shoulder; Noctis reversed grip, underarm-stabbed, knee-kicked, mud-face-smashed. Boot-jaw strangled methodically. Stings everywhere—new bleeds, mud-burning scratches—but momentum god.
World's hunger incarnate. Answer to terror-nights, stolen meals, festering hurts.
Pre-noon: four dead, variants etched—ambush silence, deception trails, patience waits, violence culminates. Each bled his survival; each truth weaponized instantly. Wound-history line drawn: hunter eclipsed hunted eternal.
Fog-lifted vista: den roiled panic-shrieks, numbers hemorrhaging, tribe brink-collapsing.
Revenge ignited, unquenchable. Seven core—day-one taunters—awaited. No mercy. Leader? None.
Let day crimson. Prey taught.
Midday perimeter bled behind; den mood ignited animal-rage. Chest exertion-tight, breaths wound-dulled, vengeance core kindled—cold-precision elemental. Sun ripped mist, light-blades carving red-woods chaos sharp.
They surged: origin-seven, day-one circlers with knives-taunts amid his crawl-death. Instinct-brute memory drove: hate-twisted faces, violet-glint nerves. Soul-damned, if souls existed.
Unexpected stirred—not triumph, somber clarity. Hatred simmered, but refusal rooted: No more blood-script by them.
Rhythmic breath forced. Blinks measured. Adrenaline chained aware.
Not past-revenge. Future-insurance. Loose ends knotted. Nightmares buried pre-dawn.
Crescent formed: bare-chest broken-armor, trap-limper—Noctis's craft, emotionless. Whispers desperate; uncertainty tasted.
He exploited.
Eruption patient-circle: measured culling, no reckless charge. Noctis skirted fringe, splitting two-forward, three-brush. Seven-bodied monster struck claws-stone, weight-number crush-angle.
Anger outran plans. First lunged gaping; duck-claw, upward-stab rib-scraping free. Crimson bloomed; hiss-retreat.
Second feint-left—day-past rhythm recognized. Crash-rib shoulder, bone-snap flex. Thorn-tumble; knife-hand claw-twist wrist-crack. Pin-drive bone-flesh—done.
Should satisfy, dazed stagger-thought. Doesn't. Necessity. Wolf no deer-hate. Deer simply ends.
Three swarm: club-brandish, curse-shrieks garble. Backpedal; club-air-smashes skull-space, pivot trunk间. Side-tore agony tunnel-visioned pain-target. Arm-wrench back-slam, bark-face silent.
Thigh-stab flicker; mud-roll strobes scarlet-gold. Throat-close, hilt-plunge. Choke-flail—still.
Pain distant, vein-dark-heat. Leader-shouts desperate, panic unity-crowding. Stagger-upright, wounds clocking, heart borrowed.
They ghost-gaze: prey-refusal incarnate.
Fifth-sixth tandem: low-sweep high-hammer. Crouch-mud-squelch, gut-slash high, wrist-club-catch. Grunt-parry, nose-bridge split-skin—beast-trick months-old. Reel-finish: eye-dagger sixth, club-skull fifth. Bone-yield gasp-silence.
Six down.
Seventh—trap-limper—terror-broke, sprinting leader-bellow ignored. Noctis released. Wounded no anger-fuel; calculation cold. Slate-clearing, not pleasure.
Aftermath stood: bodies bled-ringed. Copper-mouth spat, chest vise. Forbidden satisfaction ghosted; relief nearer—humiliation-week buried bloody.
Eyes den-fixed: red-skinned Awakened leader loomed, claw-ether flicker, ember-eyes pride-hate scorched.
Last hardest.
Slaughter-silence thought trembled real: Week-hunted. Finish started. Survivor's law—no monsters night-left but me.