Chương 12: An Execution

The morning sun filtered through the canopy, painting the forest floor in dappled patterns of gold and shadow. For the first time since arriving in this integrated universe, Zander didn't wake up scanning the branches for threats with a knot of anxiety in his stomach. He woke up ready. He sat up on the thick branch that had served as his bed, untying the safety rope with calm, deliberate movements. Yesterday's breakthrough still felt like a dream. He had to make sure it wasn't.

He decided to test the new mechanism immediately. As he reached for his backpack, he activated [Mind's Dominion]. Shift. Resilience: 25 He felt his skin tighten, his bones feeling heavier, denser, like lead bars settling into his frame. He swung his legs over the branch and dropped the ten feet to the forest floor. He didn't bother to roll. Thud. He landed flat-footed. The impact rattled through him, but his shins absorbed it with the indifference of a stone pillar. A day ago, that drop would have stung.

Today, it was nothing. His backpack was in his right hand. As he lifted it, he mentally flicked the switch again. Shift. Might: 24 The density in his bones vanished, replaced by a surge of hydraulic power in his muscles. The heavy pack felt as light as a feather in his hand. He tossed it up, caught it, and swung it onto his shoulders in one fluid motion.

"Natural," Zander whispered, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"It's finally natural." He spent the next twenty minutes practicing the shifts. He would transfer points to Might to crush a piece of wood, then back to Resilience just to feel the change in his own physiology. It was no longer a manual transmission. It was an extension of his nervous system. Having gathered his gear, Zander turned his attention to the pull of the quest. The System's guidance toward the Apex Predator responded immediately, a magnetic tug in his gut leading him deeper into the gloom.

He moved with a new gait. He wasn't skulking anymore. He walked with the stance of someone who belonged there. After an hour of trekking, the terrain began to dip. The giant trees gave way to a dense, humid thicket of ferns and moss-covered rocks. The air here was heavy, smelling of stagnant water and decay. Zander stopped at the edge of a depression in the earth, a natural bowl filled with tangled roots and shadowed crevices. His eyes narrowed. He saw movement. Not just one source, but three.

Slithering over the roots, blending with the mossy stones, were three massive shapes. [Moss-Scale Viper - lvl 5] [Moss-Scale Viper - lvl 5] [Moss-Scale Viper - lvl 6] Two days ago, a single level 6 viper had nearly strangled him to death. It had forced him to use a tree as a weapon and nearly cracked his spine in the process. Zander looked at the pit, then at his hands. He didn't back away. He didn't look for a detour.

"Let's do this," he murmured. He stepped into the depression. The reaction was instantaneous. The vipers, sensing the vibration of his boots on the soft earth, coiled in unison. Their heads rose, hissing a warning that sounded like escaping steam. Zander kept walking. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. The nearest viper, a level 5, didn't wait. It launched itself from a mossy rock, a green blur aiming for Zander's throat. Zander didn't dodge.

He simply watched the fangs come closer. Shift. [Mind's Dominion] activated, moving 10 Will points into Resilience to increase it from 20 to 25. Resilience: 25 The transfer was instantaneous. Zander felt his skin harden into organic armor as he lifted his arm. Thunk. The viper struck him square in the forearm. Zander watched dispassionately as the fangs sank in, or tried to. Against his enhanced Resilience, the skin was like cured leather over steel.

The fangs pierced the surface, but they couldn't reach too deep into the muscle. The snake's jaws clamped down, pumping venom. A split second later, the familiar notification flashed. Foreign contaminant detected. [BloodForged] has nullified its effect.

"Damn right," Zander said. Shift. He pulled his 10 Will points from Resilience and put them into Might. Might: 24 The density vanished, replaced by explosive potential. In the same breath, he activated [Scarlet Gauntlet]. WOOSH. There was no slow creep of blood this time. The red obsidian armor materialized around his right hand in a blink, smooth and lethal. Before the viper could unlatch its jaw to retreat, Zander swung. He didn't need a wind-up.

With a Might sitting at 24, a short, chopping right hook was all it took. The hardened gauntlet connected with the side of the viper's head while it was still attached to his arm. CRACK. The sound was wet and final. The viper's head didn't just break; it collapsed. The creature went limp instantly, its body falling from Zander's arm.

'ding' You have killed [Moss-Scale Viper - lvl 5]. Zander didn't pause to celebrate. The other two vipers were already moving. The level 6 was fast. It came low, aiming for his legs, while the second level 5 circled wide, looking for a flank. Zander pivoted. He kept the [Scarlet Gauntlet] active on his right hand. The level 6 recovered from its missed lunge and coiled to strike again. Zander didn't wait for it to spring. He charged. The snake struck, its mouth gaping wide. Zander dipped his shoulder.

He didn't shift to Resilience this time; he stayed in Might. He batted the snake's head aside with his gauntleted right hand, causing crimson armor to meet scales, and used his left hand to grab the snake just behind the head. His bare fingers, fueled by 24 in Might, dug into the muscle like iron hooks. The snake thrashed, its tail whipping around to crush his legs, but Zander was already moving. He swung the level 6 viper like a heavy rope, releasing his iron grip just as it collided with the oncoming level 5.

THUD. The level 6 crashed into its packmate, sending them both tumbling into a knotted pile of hissing scales against a mossy rock. Zander didn't give them a second to untangle. He closed the distance in a single, explosive stride, dropping his weight as he loomed over the squirming pile. He raised his right fist, the crimson armor gleaming in the low light. He hammered down. Once. Twice. The first blow cratered the spine of the level 6.

The second blow caught the level 5 as it tried to rear up, crushing its skull against the stone.

'ding' You have killed [Moss-Scale Viper - lvl 6]. For killing an adversary above your level, you receive 10 System Coins.

'ding' You have killed [Moss-Scale Viper - lvl 5]. Silence returned to the pit. Zander exhaled slowly, watching the red mist of his gauntlet evaporate back into his skin. He checked his status. Health: 196/200 Blood Well: 337/350 He had taken 4 points of damage from the initial bite, a negligible scratch. His blood well consumption was interesting: it looked like he used half the amount for [Scarlet Gauntlet] because he activated it only for his right hand. He pulled his knife.

The earlier fight with the boar had been a brawl; this had been an execution. He wasn't scrambling for survival anymore. He was dissecting the threats. He had transitioned. He felt it in the way he moved, in the way he fought. He was no longer just a survivor lost in the woods. He was a hunter. He gathered wood for a fire right there in the pit. It was a power move, perhaps, but he felt safe enough.

As the smell of cooking snake meat filled the humid air, Zander sat back against a rock, eating straight off the skewer. The meat was tender, filling his stomach. He watched the firelight dance, his mind already planning the next leg of the journey toward the Apex Predator. Then, he heard it. Chit-chit-chit. It wasn't the random, panicked squeak of a squirrel he had scared out of a bush. It was distant, but distinct. Chit-chit... Chit. And then, from the opposite side: Chit-chit-chit. Zander stopped chewing.

He swallowed the bite of meat slowly. It looked like a call and response. He stood up, kicking dirt over his fire to douse the light. He peered out of the pit, into the darkness of the surrounding forest. The sound was high-pitched, almost metallic, like iron scraping against iron.

"Ironfangs?" Zander whispered. He gripped his knife, his red eyes piercing the gloom.