By the time they reached the top of the ridge, a dozen men and women were dead. Either from sustaining lethal injuries battling the abominations or by being assimilated and consumed by them.
He didn't know any of the people who'd died, fortunately.
'Well, it's not fortunate that they died. I'm just glad none of the people I've come to know are dead… Which isn't a lot of people. Huh. It's a good thing I keep my thoughts to myself.'
Death was nothing new to the child, but there was still something haunting about watching people be fully consumed by the abominations of carnage. He'd only been assuming the severity of their carnivorous abilities, but seeing it in real time was a hundred times worse than he'd imagined.
It made sense why Walkyr did not use his overwhelming strength against the monsters. Even War had suffered injuries when ensnared by the teeth of Flesh Hounds. The enemies of the First Floor were wicked, greedy creatures that only ate, ate, and ate more.
'There's no way anything on the Second Floor is worse than these things. Incarnations of gluttony are eating people, and I'm supposed to think some thoughtful hunters are worse? No way.'
War hadn't joined the group yet, still at the bottom of the mountain battling the flying fiends. However, now that the group had reached the slopes of the mountain range, they too faced the wrath of the soaring menaces. The biggest and most dangerous of them have focused on the Holy Knight, leaving the group with far more manageable enemies.
Still, that didn't mean they had an easier time. If anything, their experience must have been far worse than the Holy Knight who was carving through hordes of the abominations like butter.
Worthy was learning a lot from the trialing experience, despite all of the gruesomeness.
As more monsters attacked them, his reaction speed grew. He started predicting the paths that the abominations would take to reach him or others nearby and acted accordingly. Sometimes, his predictions would be proven wrong. Other times, they'd be utterly correct. As he was attacked more and fought more, the predictions slowly started becoming more accurate.
"That's pretty terrifying." It was Esme who noted how quickly the boy's aptitude for battle was developing. She'd already suspected it was impressive that he learned fast during his fights with Walkyr, but now the child was also adapting to the hellish foes hunting them.
Catching his breath as he sat on an indent of bones, Worthy wiped sweat from his head and looked at the olive-skinned woman. "Yeah. These things are torn from the pages of a horror story." Lovecraftian abominations who showed no sign of stopping until their demise.
Esme blinked twice before replying, "I'm not talking about monsters. I'm talking about you, Worthy. You're… I don't think a kid should be able to do the things you're doing. Malas Town is merciless, I know, but you're learning a whole lot faster than any child from that town ever would."
Oblivious to what she was talking about, Worthy didn't regard it. He only took it as a compliment about his great efforts.
His growth was frightening, nevertheless. It was perhaps inhuman how fast he'd developed an understanding of violence and killing. Those preconceived ideas of the world he developed living in Malas Town were challenged, and he adapted to the challenge magnificently.
Out of the group War had brought to the Devil's Den, Worthy was one of the two who possessed the most unpredictable potential.
"Besides that, we've lost a few people. The number's still a hundred… barely. Hopefully this is the hardest step of the way."
Although it didn't seem like they'd gone far, each snap of Walkyr's finger brought them miles away from the vantage point. They climbed to the top of mountains larger than ordinary ones because it oversaw such a vast scenery, making it perfect for their travels.
"...Two more." It wasn't Esme who spoke, but instead, Taivat, accompanied by his companion Oro. "We'll need to pass through two more places before we reach Middle Town. The worst is…"
Before he could finish speaking, the mountain shook. Near the bottom of the mountain range, the body of a mountainous pile of gore created a cavity in the terrain. The mass was set aflame shortly after, ensuring that it was burnt to a crisp before it could continue moving.
This mass possessed — before they were melted away — appendages that resembled wings coming from the side of it.
It was one of the many creatures slew by the Holy Knight. His Divine Sword never stopped swinging, though he could not be seen even from the highest point of the mountain. He'd been caught in a storm of crimson, produced by the circling fiends who spilled blood and vapor every few seconds.
Turning back to them, Worthy opened his mouth to say something about the destination but stopped. There was clearly something wrong.
Esme studied the two before beckoning Taivat to approach. "Buddy, I don't know if you know this… But your right arm is broken, you're also missing a chunk of your flesh. Whatever hit you did a damn good number, let me heal you."
She'd been exhausted herself, but was conserving her energy so that she could remain mobile. Getting left behind didn't sound pleasing, and her role was made clear at the very moment of their departure. Rejuvenating anyone who could continue moving and fighting was her top priority.
Frankly, Worthy was shocked when he saw the woman applying healing to straggling Climbers as they rose up the mountain.
Esme was a gambler who came into the tower to flee from Freight's wrath. Most who end up deeply connected to the underworld are remarkable selfish people. Yet, something about her Reward enabled her to push that selfishness aside and aid those in need.
Initially, Worthy believed it was a transactional front. Every action she'd taken until now was for her own safety.
Joining War's traveling party kept her alive during her arrival.
Healing the wounded gave her value, and a reason to stay as far away from Old Lady Haul as possible.
Even now, her support to the group made her invaluable and led to people being willing to risk their lives to keep her alive. In the end, every action she'd taken was in her best interest.
For some reason though, the child doubted that her actions were purely selfish. Esme truly wanted to help people, and so she did.
Taivat let her examine his broken limb, and once she was finished she gently applied her Reward to the injury. The bone set itself right and the torn components of the limb were pieced back together. Beneath the crimson miasma that composed the sky, the man screamed in pain, but endured.
Once he was healed, he had no choice but to sit down and process the agony he'd gone through. Esme's ability helped the recipients cope with pain and soothed their discomfort, but the scale of pain was important. Having your broken bones shifting in your arm was not something you could walk away from consciously.
Taivat remained conscious somehow, though. He was conscious enough to thank Esme through his delayed breaths.
The four sat together in silence, hearing only the sound of battle in the distance, interrupted by the frequent snap of a finger and gunfire. Walkyr's work was deft, meaning they'd be transported in only a few minutes. Holding out those minutes was proving to be rigorous thanks to the airborne beasts.
'At least now, there's no bodies rolling down the mountain. That was the worst.'
Esme was an important part of Worthy's physical state. Through eating, exercising, and pushing his body to the limit, he was making himself more physically capable. Her healing reduced the time it took for him to recover from injuries, but the mental strain persisted.
This was all too much for a boy.
Alas, he was no normal boy either: he was Worthy of Malas Town.
His father had tried to climb the tower and failed.
His mother tried to do the same and met her end.
Now it was his turn to face the challenge, before his sister got the same nonsensical ideas as him. He may not have known exactly what the wish he desired was, but if it came down to it, a certain set of words would leave his mouth:
'I want my sister, Hopeful, to go to school.'
If he had to fight through Hell in order to demand this wish of the tower, he'd do it time and time again. Because even if he could not think of the words to save himself and his family from their daunting circumstances, he could at least fulfill his little sister's wish for her. He could open the door for her to seek out a new path in life. One that did not encompass joining Freight's criminal enclave or killing and stealing from innocent men to make a living.
Yes, being self-centered was the only way that he could survive the tower in order to fulfill his selfless wish.
Withholding information about his Reward was in his interest currently because it was a wildcard. When he reached the Devil's Den, the Reward was upgraded and gained greater capabilities, though none that were practical. He had a looming suspicion that once he reached Middle Town, it'd upgrade again.
Once he confirmed this suspicion, he'd make his next move. He'd place himself as an invaluable asset to War Reaver — because using his Reward, he'd be able to locate the Gateway they need to ascend to the next floor.