Chương 13: A Familiar Face

Zander stood in the center of the depression, the dying embers of his fire casting long, dancing shadows against the tangled roots. The sound he had heard at the end of his meal, that metallic chit-chit, echoed again, but this time it came from directly above him. He looked up. Perched on a thick branch about twenty feet up was a familiar face. It was an Ironfang Squirrel, its grey fur matted and one ear torn. [Ironfang Squirrel - lvl 5] He could be wrong, but he was certain that was the one that got away.

The survivor from the massacre two days ago. It stared down at him, its beady eyes devoid of the mindless aggression Zander had seen in the others. There was some form of intelligence there. Malice. It didn't screech. It didn't charge. It simply looked at him, twitched its nose, and let out a sharp, piercing whistle. Rustle. The canopy around the pit came alive. Five shapes dropped from the trees surrounding the depression. They landed with heavy, synchronized thuds, encircling him.

These weren't the scrawny level 3 scavengers he had fought on his first day. These were sleek, muscular, and their teeth glinted with a distinct metallic sheen. Zander used [Identify] as his gaze swept over them: [Ironfang Squirrel - lvl 5] [Ironfang Squirrel - lvl 6] [Ironfang Squirrel - lvl 5]"You brought friends," Zander said, his voice calm despite the spike of adrenaline hitting his blood.

"Will that be enough, though?" Then, the leaves on the far side of the pit parted, and a heavy silence fell over the small clearing. A massive shape stepped out from the roots. It was easily twice the size of the others, standing nearly chest-high to a man. Its fur was a dark, bruised purple, and patches of its chest and shoulders weren't covered in fur at all; they were plated in a natural, organic armor that looked like rusted iron. But it was the claws that drew Zander's eye.

They weren't just sharp nails; they were three-inch daggers, curved and serrated. [Ironfang Patriarch - lvl 8] The survivor on the branch chattered something that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

"Okay," Zander muttered, shifting his stance.

"That could be a problem." The patriarch snarled, a low, grinding sound like rocks in a blender. It raised a claw, and the squad attacked. They didn't rush in a chaotic pile. Two of them flanked left, two went right, and one launched itself straight at his face to blind him. Zander mentally activated [Mind's Dominion]. His Will poured into Might. Might: 24 He didn't summon the gauntlets yet. He needed his fingers. The center squirrel was mid-air, jaws open to tear out his throat.

Zander watched the trajectory, trusting his eyes and his enhanced reflexes. At the last second, he sidestepped and snatched the beast out of the air. His hand clamped around its midsection. It was squirming, its claws raking at his forearm, but with a Might of 24, his grip was a vise.

"Gotcha," he grunted. [Scarlet Gauntlet] Usually, the skill formed armor over the hand. But his hand was currently wrapped around a living creature. The blood erupted from his pores, seeking to form the hard, obsidian-like shell he had perfected. But there was an obstacle in the way: the squirrel. The blood didn't care. It expanded, hardened, and forced its way into existence with hydraulic pressure. CRUNCH.

The squirrel in his grip shrieked once, a sound that was cut short as the materializing gauntlet crushed its ribcage and spine instantly against Zander's palm. The red obsidian solidified, encasing the broken corpse for a split second before he dismissed the skill and let the limp body drop to the dirt. One down.

'ding' Zander ignored the notification. He barely had time to breathe before the flankers arrived. A level 6 squirrel slammed into his side, its teeth scraping against his ribs. He spun, swinging a backhand with his bare fist, but another one bit into his calf.

"Fuck off!" He kicked the leg-biter away, sending it tumbling into a root, but the squad was relentless. They were chipping away at him, trading small wounds for positioning. Health: 182/200 He needed to clear the board. He activated [Scarlet Gauntlet] again, this time on both hands. The red glass solidified instantly. He became a whirlwind of violence. He caught a level 5 with a hook that shattered its jaw. He turned and hammered the one that had bitten his calf into the ground. Shift.

He moved his Will from Might to Resilience as a level 6 raked its claws across his back. Resilience: 25 The claws tore his shirt but barely scratched his skin, sliding off the hardened muscle like it was cured leather. He spun around, shifting back to Might instantly. This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Might: 24 CRACK. His gauntlet connected with its skull. Four down. The minions were thinning. He was feeling good. He was controlling the chaos.

Then, a shadow fell over him. Zander barely had time to raise his guard before a freight train hit him. The patriarch had entered the fray. It didn't bite; it swiped. Its massive, dagger-like claws slammed into his crossed gauntlets. SCREECH. The sound was ear-splitting. To Zander's horror, deep gouges appeared in the polished surface of his Scarlet Gauntlet. The red obsidian chipped and cracked under the force. The impact sent him sliding back five feet, his heels digging trenches in the mulch.

"Strong," he hissed, shaking the vibration out of his arms. He instinctively channeled more blood from his well to repair the micro-fractures in his gauntlets. The patriarch didn't let up. It was fast, far faster than its size suggested. It had high Dexterity, probably matching or exceeding Zander's Might. It lunged, a blur of purple and iron. Zander swung a counter, but the beast ducked under his fist with terrifying grace and slammed its armored shoulder into his gut. Oof. The wind left his lungs.

He stumbled back, gasping. It swiped again, catching his thigh. His pants shredded, and he felt the cold burn of steel cutting flesh. Health: 154/200 He backpedaled, trying to gain distance. His chest heaved, and the pain in his thigh and gut flared hot. He had to be careful. One wrong move and this beast would gut him. He had stopped his bleeding with a mental command, but his health was dropping too fast. He needed every advantage. [Blood Infusion] His Blood Well responded instantly.

The red sphere in his chest spun, siphoning its contents directly into his bloodstream. A low, humming warmth began to circulate through his veins. It wasn't a miraculous instant heal, but he could feel his natural regeneration kicking into overdrive, doubling its pace. It was a slow burn, but it might just be the difference between life and death.

"Better," Zander muttered, the warmth grounding him. The patriarch hissed, sensing the change. It realized its prey was stabilizing. It roared.

"Come on then," Zander challenged, dropping his hands to his sides.

"Let's finish this." He dismissed the gauntlets. The red mist evaporated. He stood there, completely exposed. The patriarch's eyes narrowed. It sensed the opening. It roared again and charged, aiming to impale him. Focus. Zander canceled his [Mind's Dominion]. Resilience: 20 He made himself soft. Or at least, as soft as he could be. He let his muscles relax. He made himself the perfect target. The patriarch hit him. Its right claw, three distinct blades of bone, slammed into his left shoulder. SHKUK.

The pain was blinding. The claws pierced the skin, the muscle, diving deep into the meat of his shoulder. Zander screamed, a raw, guttural sound. Health: 127/200 Thanks to [Blood Infusion], his health was already slowly creeping up, but the damage was massive. He didn't step back, though. He didn't flinch away. He leaned into it.

"Got you," he gritted out through clenched teeth. [Mind's Dominion] He slammed 10 points of Will into Resilience. Resilience: 25 Instantaneously, his physiology changed. His skin tightened like curing concrete. His muscle fibers became dense cables of steel. The patriarch tried to pull back, to rip its claws out for another strike, but Zander kept it right where it was with his left hand. The beast's eyes went wide. It tugged and tried to free itself from Zander's grip, shrieking in anger.

Zander ignored the agony in his shoulder. The adrenaline was a roar in his ears. He raised his right hand. Shift. He dumped the 10 points from Resilience into Might. Might: 24 His shoulder softened instantly, and the pain flared white-hot as the claws shifted inside the wound, but it was too late for the beast. It was off-balance, trapped by Zander's grip and its own momentum. [Scarlet Gauntlet]. The red obsidian formed around his right fist in a blur. He drove the fist down. A hammer blow. A meteor strike.

He aimed right between the eyes, just above the armored plating of its nose. CRACK. The sound echoed through the forest. It was the sound of a skull collapsing. The patriarch's legs gave out. It dropped like a puppet with its strings cut, its claws sliding wetly out of Zander's shoulder as it fell. Zander fell to one knee, clutching his bleeding shoulder, gasping for air. He willed the bleeding to stop, and it did. Meanwhile, [Blood Infusion] was at work, accelerating his natural regeneration.

He switched [Mind's Dominion]'s transfer from Might to Resilience to further speed up the process. He turned his gaze to the remaining squirrel. It looked at its fallen leader, then at him, the monster who refused to die. It didn't chirp. It turned and vanished into the undergrowth, scrambling for its life. Zander looked up at the branch where the survivor had been. It was empty.

"Smart," he muttered.

"If we meet again, I have to make sure it's the last time." He moved, testing his shoulder. It was stiff, but functional. He then turned his attention to his notifications.

'ding' You have killed [Ironfang Squirrel – lvl 5].

'ding' You have killed [Ironfang Squirrel – lvl 6]. For killing an adversary above your level, you receive 10 System Coins.

'ding' You have killed [Ironfang Squirrel – lvl 5].

'ding' You have killed [Ironfang Squirrel – lvl 6]. For killing an adversary above your level, you receive 10 System Coins.

'ding' You have killed [Ironfang Patriarch – lvl 8]. For killing an adversary above your level, you receive 80 System Coins and an Ironfang Dagger (Common).

'ding' BloodForged Lord has reached level 6. 5 Will and 1 free point received. Eighty coins? Zander blinked at the translucent text, pausing to catch his breath. When he was level 2, a level 5 beast had given him 30 System Coins. A three-level gap shouldn't have yielded nearly triple the payout unless the System factored in something else. It has to be the 'Patriarch' title. Variant or boss types must carry a massive loot multiplier. Good to know the near-death experience came with a premium.

"Eighty coins... and a dagger?" Zander muttered, his eyes dropping from the translucent text to the forest floor. Sure enough, resting in the bloodstained dirt near the patriarch's corpse was a physical weapon. He reached out and picked it up. It was rough and primitive. The handle was wrapped in leather, and the blade was made from one of the patriarch's massive fangs, honed to a razor edge. He used [Identify] on it.

[Ironfang Dagger (Common)]: A crude but effective weapon crafted from the fang of an Ironfang Patriarch. He gripped it. It was light, balanced, and infinitely sharper than his survival knife. Finally, a real weapon. Upon reaching level 6, his Will had hit 40. He wondered if that would unlock another threshold, another speed increase for his skills? He tried them one by one, but everything was unchanged. Maybe the next tier was further down the road. Thinking about the future, would he upgrade his class later?

Would he get new skills? Wasn't the System supposed to give him that kind of information?

"Hey, dear System. Will my class evolve at some point?" Zander asked aloud. He got no answer, though. Yeah, as I expected. He turned his attention to the free point he got upon reaching level 6. His strategy was working. Using superior power to crush his adversaries. He saw no reason to stop a winning strategy. He assigned his free stat point into Might, bringing it to a nice 20, the same level as his Resilience. Zander slipped the Ironfang Dagger into his belt and looked deeper into the forest.

The ambush had been organized. Some of the beasts were showing at least a basic level of organization. If he met that survivor squirrel again, it must not escape.