"We have to go inside there..." Flor asks, her smile dropping into a frown, as they stare at the beginning of a dark forest, barely lit by the shine of dusk.
"Correcto, it's where the glasses are pointing to." Ernest affirms, pressing toward it, with Carnage and Agnar behind.
"Am I the only one who sees this as dangerous and a potential health hazard?" Flor grumbles to herself. "Especially with someone barefoot?" Seeing as they prevailed on, she reluctantly joined clinging close to Agnar.
"We're currently at the edge of town," Ernest states.
'Edge of town...it feels like much more.' Carnage thinks, surveying the eerie space.
The forest is not the calm, scenic place where folks would go to camp during summer; it's more befitting of hiding their bodies. It's the place where the elder would forbid the rebellious youngsters to venture, but they still do.
From the dark oak trees spiraling into the sky, their branches sprouting out like skeletal, bony arms reaching for you, to the withered leaves suspended midair in their descent to the unpleasant, murky floors, a mixture of mud and grass.
"Ughh..." Flor groans, grimacing with each step she takes.
'Her body language says it all. She's not used to this, which, if I weren't most certain she was a doctor, my guesses would be narrowed down significantly.'
"You've no stomach for this, do you?" Agnar, as if reading his mind, asks, looking at her.
'Hm.' Carnage's attention switches to Agnar. 'One cannot deny that Agnar's eyes are keen, and her mastery of the sword is evident. She was either a swordsman in his past life or something closely linked to it.'
"I'm a physician, Agnar; I'm not a warrior woman like you, I practice medicine." She waves a hand, showing the now refilled bottle in her hand, glimmering with a blue liquid. "Not mud, bugs, and creepy trees trying to grab me." She coughs.
"How does it work?" Carnage questions absentmindedly.
"Huh?" Flor snaps out of her rant and catches on. "Oh this? Well... I was given a magical artifact. A potion bottle able to refill seven times. I have three uses of basic healing, three of critical healing, and one high-tier poison, though I haven't figured it out yet."
'Bestowing a healer poison instead of remedies alone invites a troubling question: what is the Covenant seeking to accomplish?'
"I see." He nods. "Any drawbacks?"
"My health worsens each time I use it." She answers. "I'm sacrificing my life force to replenish others."
'A life for a life. Interesting.'
"You?" He turns to Agnar.
'There should be something different than magical artifacts, and from what I saw, the swords are basic weapons. Unless there are some boosting qualities I've missed.'
"I've no artifact like the rest of you, only something called the Devil's Gift."
'A devil's gift?'
She activates it, exuding the same green shimmer, eyes a sickening red as she trails off the path to a lone tree. "It's renowned as Might of Five Men." Her fist rockets forward, slamming into the tree with bone-rattling force.
'Ah, so it boosts her strength and also her agility.'
"It's almost like an attribute." Flor says, as both Ernest and Carnage stare wide-eyed as a crack echoes from within the tree, then it collapses.
"An attribute?" Ernest pauses for a second, confused.
"Yeah, in my world there are games where players are given an attribute, gifted by a higher power, something that boosts them or aids them, just like what it's doing with her." Flor explains, her eyes lighting up as she inwardly reminisces.
"Oh, you're from a privileged realm." Ernest acknowledges.
"Privileged?" Flor titles her head.
"Correct. Realms that are on the top half of Coronach vastly advance in tech, knowledge, and wealth." Ernest explains.
"I guess you can say so." Flor whispers, somewhat guilty.
"As for my drawback." Agnar's gaze clashes with Carnage.
Without hesitation she lifts the hems of her shirt over her chest. Ernest and Flor hurry to cover their eyes while Carnage remains watching expressionless.
"Carnage, how vile of you, cover your eyes!" Flor berates.
"Why should I?" He retorts flatly. "There's nothing there to shield from."
'And frankly, I have had extensive exposure to the intricacies of female anatomy.'
"What?" Flor drops her hands and looks. "No breast? Not even a nipple!" Her mouth gaps open; in her many years of being in the health profession, never had she seen this before.
Agnar, standing still, unreadable, looks down at her chest. Where the womanly attributes are to be, there is a clean plaque of glossy tawny skin.
"The Covenant carved out my deepest flaw." She drops her shirt. "It also carved away what named me human. I am no girl, no boy. I am a thing made to endure. A doll."
Carnage looks at her quietly for a second before moving on.
"Aren't you angry?" Flor spirals. "I would be! How can they make you into a doll? Being a woman is the best—"
"Enough." Carnage chimes in. "Ernest, will you?"
Ernest, slightly taken aback, answers. "My drawback is face blindness. I cannot discern or perceive the concept of a face in my past or present."
"Then what do you see?" Agnar, curious, questions.
"Blurs. " His voice takes on a lower, somber tone.
"Thanks, all of you." Carnage faces all of them. "It's only honorable, I say mine. I awaken things, and my drawback is memory loss." He speaks quickly and shortly.
"Christ, that's it? I thought it would have been more cinematic or at least badass." Ernest says disappointedly. "You're basically a key!"
Carnage begins on the trail again. "Yep, hence the imprint on my hand and the persona." He shrugs with a chuckle pressing on ahead.
'First rule to survival: never let them know the real you.'
Agnar's stare follows him, lips pressed into a thin line.
"Wait! It's a left now!" Ernest scurries to him as he banks to the left on his orders.
.
.
.
"Can't they bloody stay still! It's as if they're always moving!" More time passes, and Ernest murmurs in frustration, gliding his fingers through his hair.
"Perhaps they're looking for us as well?" Flor suggests innocently.
"You may have a point." He fixes his glasses but pauses, one eyebrow arching while the other dips, his lips parting without a word.
"What?" Carnage picks up on the shift in his expression.
"It's saying they're coming this way." He looks on through the path they're supposed to proceed down, waiting as the distance shown by the glasses drops.
Carnage and Agnar, immediately understanding, take the forefront, their blades already in front of them.
"Looks like fortune favors you. I've never fought beside the same man twice."Agnar says, her voice carrying a cocky timbre to it.
"What happened to them?" Carnage asks, face and interest nowhere apparent.
"Dead," Agnar replies. "They couldn't keep pace."
"I am not any of those puny men you have fought beside." Carnage turns to her, sending a wink. "You can almost call me a god."
"Wait! What are you guys doing?" Flor cuts in with a shaky breath. "They're with us."
"None truly walk at your side. This is hell, temper your spine, darling." Agnar clenches her jaw. "Even so, they are not our hunt."
"Huh?" Flor blurts.
"Ask yourself, Flor. Why are they in such a hurry? Why would they make such illogical turns, just for the sake of finding us?" Ernest inquires, and Flor slowly understands, backing away. "There, left!" Ernest shouts.
Their heads pivot to Carnage's left in the far distance, spotting two figures weaving through the three as the blackened form of a skinwalker crashes through to reach them.
「Demonic beast Grade: D (Tormented)」
「Power level: 70」
「Health: 70/70」
"Let's go." Carnage dashes forward.
"Making the first move...astonishing. Men often shrink from the fray." Agnar quick to pursue.
"As I said," Carnage grumbles, focus dead set on the skinwalkers. "Call me a god."
Swiveling to the right, the two other participants light up with hope as they meet the figures of Carnage and Agnar rushing forward, armed with blades.
"Oh, thank god!"
"Move." Carnage voices, as they near.
Agnar activates her attribute and leaps into the air, while Carnage stays grounded. Just in time, the two split to opposite sides. Carnage glides down, sword angled upward, as Agnar descends, her sword pointed downward, the blond tendrils of her hair glimmering in the light behind her.
Simultaneously, they both drive into the neck of the creature and slice through in different directions, severing it cleanly.
「FATAL HIT!!」
「Instant death!」
「Another skinwalker has been defeated!」
「2/6」
「No Demonic core found!」
"I must say…" Agnar mutters, landing on the floor beside the carcass of the skinwalker. "Your skills are survivable."
"I would take it as a compliment, but I'm not quite sure." Carnage breathes a sigh, getting back to his feet.
'This was easy… Too easy to rest.'
"You should; it is rare for me to compliment the people of your 'gene.'" She scowls, eyeing him up and down.
Carnage, on the other hand, paid no heed to Agnar and her hatred to the men of humanity, only perplexed by the fact that he didn't receive any demonic cores.
'Covenant, can you aid in my understanding of this.'
「Verse extracted from Elzub's guidebook: A demon core forms only when the demonic beast has acquired the power level their rank harbors; if not, it makes them significantly weaker.」
'Another thing to mark as true.'
"I did it again! I cheated death! I've been spared another day!" One of them says to themself on his knees in the mud, head plummeting as he plants kisses on the floor.
"Ugh…" Flor gags, swirling away.
Agnar and Carnage join them, bloodied swords in hand, watching the peculiar sight unfold.
"Men. The worst type, no less." Agnar says, staring at the blond-haired man, his mouth smeared with dirt.
"My saviors!" he spins, cleaning his mouth and jumping to his feet. "Would ya please accept my greatest thanks; I am forever grateful to ya." He bows respectfully.
"No worries." Ernest replies awkwardly, taking charge as Agnar grimaces just at the sight of him and Carnage is quiet, somewhat captivated by his lilac irises.
The color ignites a broken, contorted recollection, one that he felt uncomfortably connected to, and with the pain of its remembrance came another, one that ebbs around the inner walls of his vengeful heart.
'It's not exactly painful... So what is it?' he inquires to himself.
"Artticus, ya!" he extends his hands and shakes both of theirs. "The survivor!" He says proudly.
"Survivor?" Agnar retracts her hand, dusting it off on her shorts.
"Yeah, it grants me the devil's gift of 'immunity,' but I don't know what I have immunity against." He chuckles, scratching behind his head.
'Another person with a devil's gift.' Carnage thinks, eyes wandering to Ernest, who blankly stares at the other new participant.
"And you?" Carnage gestures to him.
"Greetings." He also bows, a soft smile playing on his features. "I'm Evrad, the helper. I have the ability to copy."
'A devil's gift perhaps?'
Carnage's gaze lingers on him. The man smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. There's a flicker there, a shadow that tugs at the corners, just beyond understanding. Gratitude? Fear? Something else entirely? Carnage can't name it.
"I'm Flor!" She chimes in, and the rest of them reintroduce themselves to everyone.
「Congrats! have found your entire team!」
「As a reward, here is your first hint.」