His name was Rael Leger. There was not much to know about him other than that he worked hard. Real hard. He had no sisters, no brothers, a long-dead mother, and a father who was overprotective of him, a grown man. His father always judged the friends he made, the women he dated, the actions he took.

  Rael did as he pleased, because he believed he was meant for more. He saw himself as a chick inside an egg, waiting for the right temperature to crack the shell and be free of his prison. He wanted glory. He wanted his name known and respected by all.

  And this incident had presented the perfect opportunity.

  He pulled his mark-stone from his [personal space], watching as the holographic interface rose from the surface. A list of recorded files from the stealth recorders appeared before him.

  He stood among three other Vanquishers. The two men wore silver pants and simple, thigh-length red trousers, with matching red head coverings. The woman wore the same colors, her red dress complemented by a silver sari. All of them bore the same distinguishing mark: a small silver chain around their necks, holding a red sphere depicting a cracked planet.

  They were Terrafall-born humans.

  “Anyone found the doctor? Cocksucker must know something,” Tesla muttered, leaning against what was left of a building, or rather, half of one.

  His best friend turned to his fiancé. “Someone did. Found him in the stomach of one of those creatures.” He shifted his weight to his left leg before adding, “Speaking of, what’s their designated name? Because they sure as hell aren’t monsters.”

  They all knew why. Monsters had EPOs. These things did not.

  William, who had barely spoken since his father’s execution, finally broke his silence. “HQ’s calling them ‘Unknown Man-Eaters.’ UME for short.”

  Rael scoffed at the laziness of the name, but before he could comment, something in one of the recordings caught his eye. One of the UMEs was chasing a brown-haired girl.

  It was speaking to her.

  That alone should have meant nothing. These things were called man-eaters for a reason. But then the stealth recorder, a small cylindrical device, was knocked to the ground when the building it had been attached to collapsed.

  The footage turned into static and debris. A waste of time, until he saw something.

  At the edge of the holographic display, the brown-haired girl flickered into view. Her hands glowed red.

  Rael frowned. Maybe it was a recording glitch. But he leaned closer, tracking the red light as it clung to her hands. Then she slipped out of view.

  He opened another file.

  This time, it was the red-and-yellow-haired boy, the rising legend Ferzan. He was helping her, going out of his way to save her.

  She was screaming at the UME, saying things Rael could not hear. She looked stressed. Betrayed, maybe.

  Who was she?

  Red hands. A UME speaking to her. Ferzan protecting her.

  She was important.

  Rael needed to know why. Was the UME talking to her because she was involved? Did she know something? She had to.

  More importantly, if she did, he could use it.

  A promotion.

  Tesla’s arms suddenly wrapped around his chest, snapping him from his thoughts.

  “What is it? What got you so damn distracted?” she purred.

  He already knew what she was about to do, and a chill ran down his spine.

  “Damn it. Don’t—”

  Too late.

  She laughed, grinding her hips against him at an obnoxiously fast pace. “Take that! And that! Now you’re pregnant!”

  They were both twenty-eight, but the way she acted made it seem like they were still in high school. He had known her since then. They dated, broke up, repeated. Again and again.

  Rael did not care what she was doing right now. Not when he might have just stumbled upon a treasure chest.

  He might even earn the King’s acknowledgment. The King, of all people. A man who rarely appeared in public. Rael had never seen him. Most people had not.

  Rumors existed.

  That there was no King.

  That the King was horribly sick.

  Rael did not believe them. He did not want to. If he did, then his greatest goal would be pointless.

  Everyone knew the old King, King Olerath Rerown. A man who had thrown them into wars and conflicts both on the continent and across the sea. A man who talked to himself, mumbling words as if someone else were speaking back. Holvious had spread rumors about him that stuck like glue. One, in particular, had no evidence, yet endured.

  The quote was unforgettable.

  “You come bringing war to our doorsteps, crying glory to your country. Glory to your King. No king that fucks his own daughter and sons in the ass shall rule our lands.”

  The rumor had spread across the world like wildfire. People knew it was not true. They did not care. Nations amplified it, claiming it was fact. Eventually, their own citizens believed it. Rael thought that if Falsker had been alive then, he would have listed it in his PEACE IS HEARTLESS book, perhaps as another reason to justify killing all humans.

  Rael drew in a deep breath and pushed the thoughts away. He focused on the possible rewards.

  He had worked for this. He was born for this.

  The thought thrilled him. He powered off his mark-stone, shutting down the hologram. He would keep this to himself as long as possible. He wanted the praise and glory for himself.

  He looked up at the moon in the star-filled sky, clouds drifting lazily across it. Tesla followed his gaze, her expression unreadable. Slowly, she began swaying them side to side. “Tonight is your turn to cook.”

  “I know,” Rael said. “What do you want for dinner?”

  “Not sure. Whatever you cook.”

  He smiled. “Like usual.”

  “Exactly.”

  Around them, other Vanquishers moved through the ruins in groups of four, five, or ten, searching for evidence. They collected slabs of UME flesh and blood, sealing them in flat glass containers before storing them in their [personal space].

  Rael clenched his fists.

  Brown-haired girl. He was coming for her.

  Four hours later, Vernisha ran.

  Thick green and brown foliage blurred past her. Her heartbeat hammered against her ribs, her body begging for escape.

  Then the howls came, loud enough to make the trees tremble.

  Three at once.

  A three-headed wolf was chasing her.

  Wet paws slapped against the earth behind her. She glimpsed the beast through Forwing’s eyes. The bird circled overhead, giving her a view from above.

  Two of the wolf’s necks were badly wounded, yet that did little to slow it down.

  Suddenly, all three heads stretched forward, twisting together like snakes. Their snarling faces aligned.

  A thin black beam of water shot toward her.

  She ducked just in time, pain flaring in her ribs.

  She cursed under her breath.

  Ahead, a massive boulder loomed in her path. The water beam struck it and split it apart.

  I swallowed as the boulder split cleanly down the middle, the left half crashing into the ground and sending debris outward.

  Her plan had just fallen apart.

  Fortunately, Forwing had leveled during those four hours and learned new skills.

  “Forwing! Feather Dance! Now!”

  The bird spun in midair and released a storm of white and red feathers. Instead of scattering, they multiplied, thickening into a dense, swirling cloud that wrapped around them like a living shield.

  Something sharp sliced past Vernisha’s leg and then over her head. One projectile grazed her shoulder, and the sting felt disturbingly similar to a bullet skimming flesh.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  That was the worst of it. Forwing was immune to its own Feather Dance, and through the chaos of feathers, they could still see clearly.

  Vernisha veered sharply to the right, forced to adjust as the dense trees ahead formed a natural wall. Behind her, wood splintered and cracked. The three-headed wolf had charged straight into the storm.

  It was fortunate timing. She would have captured it if she had the space. During her talk with Ferzan, she had even given him one of her monsters to free up capacity. He usually carried only one or two, and even against the Julioes slave, he had relied on that same giant bird.

  Forwing circled back as the wolf snarled in confusion, its three heads twisting in different directions. Its nostrils flared as it struggled to relocate her scent.

  Her heart began pounding again. The relief had lasted only seconds. Of course a dog-like monster would possess absurd sensory abilities.

  All six ears twitched and angled toward her position.

  The beast bared its yellow fangs, drool hanging from them as if it already knew the chase was ending. Its body began to glow, and she recognized the effect immediately. Forwing and Crusbull glowed like that before using dash-type skills.

  She was about to be torn apart.

  Then the solution became obvious.

  The wolf leapt.

  “Get me out of here. Now.”

  Forwing’s talons dug into her back and lifted her, but the wolf was faster than she liked. Its teeth were inches from her skull when Forwing activated Deep Dive.

  The bird glowed, and a violent rush of air slammed into Vernisha as if she had been yanked backward at impossible speed. The world blurred, then snapped still.

  The talons released her.

  She dropped to her knees on soft grass and slumped sideways against a tree trunk, her chest rising and falling in ragged breaths.

  The pain arrived a moment later.

  Her fingers brushed her chest and came away slick with blood. A deep, jagged gash ran from her upper chest toward her stomach.

  She flexed her fingers and summoned her healing aura. It flickered worse than ever, flaring and dimming in broken intervals.

  Her head throbbed. The barrier between her thoughts and Forwing’s was deteriorating.

  Voices pressed inward.

  Kill. Kill. Kill.

  Return to me.

  “Forwing,” she forced out.

  The bird hesitated before flying into her palm and vanishing into her seal.

  She exhaled sharply.

  With abilities like these, she did not need enemies.

  She hated it. Hated herself. Hated whatever she was connected to.

  Leaning her head back, she stared up at the stars. They looked distant and indifferent.

  She did not like hating herself.

  Cursed or not, the powers were hers. They had saved her and accelerated her recovery more times than she could count.

  She needed them.

  Even if they resisted her, they would obey. They belonged to her.

  She had done this before in the village, when she had forced the voices into submission. She would do it again.

  Her glare fixed on her hands as the red aura flickered unevenly. On and off. On and off.

  Her skull throbbed as she forced the energy into alignment. It felt like hammering unstable ether into place through sheer will.

  The pain intensified, but the aura brightened and deepened in color. The flickering did not truly stop; it simply accelerated until it appeared stable.

  That was good enough.

  She pressed her palm to her chest, and flesh sealed almost instantly. The jagged wound vanished within seconds.

  She ran her hands over her body, repairing the remaining damage. A breathless laugh escaped her.

  The power was overwhelming.

  But the drain was severe.

  Healing like that could make her nearly immortal, yet the cost was clear.

  The aura finally died, and darkness reclaimed the forest.

  The three-headed wolf had been level fifteen.

  Deeper in the forest, she had discovered another dome with a barrier similar to the first. The ether inside had been denser, easier to absorb, and the monsters correspondingly stronger.

  She had pushed beyond her comfort zone.

  Most of her fights since then had been hit-and-run encounters.

  She was still level nineteen.

  Her hands slid down her thighs, brushing away clumps of dirt before she gripped her knees and steadied herself. Her ether reserves felt almost full again.

  Ahead, beyond several bushes, something flickered.

  Firelight.

  She inhaled slowly. Her thoughts still felt sluggish, as if they lagged behind her body.

  She stood and grabbed her head firmly, as though reclaiming it. Red light coated her fingers, and she forced the healing aura inward.

  She healed her brain.

  The moving firelight abruptly stopped.

  The bushes between them began to smoke. Leaves blackened and curled before bursting into flame.

  A horned monkey formed from fire shot forward. Its torso and arms burned bright, but its legs were made of smooth blue marbles that trembled with contained water.

  The water surged outward, shaping itself into a blade as the creature kicked toward her neck.

  She ducked. The swoosh of the water blade sliced the air above her. Then came the sound of the tree she had been resting on, along with many behind it, being cut down in a single slash.

  The flame monkey grabbed its thighs and violently yanked the marbles free. Steam hissed from them as it swung them at her. At the same time, the cut trees crashed to the ground.

  She swung her left hand forward, sending Crusbull out.

  A heated marble pierced through her stomach like a bullet. It exploded against the boulder behind her, releasing scalding hot water that splashed onto her back.

  Pain and shock arched through her body. Crusbull took form, but too late. The rest of the six marbles tore through her stomach like paper.

  She staggered back. She thought one hit her spine too. If her bones were any stronger, the marbles would have exploded inside her.

  Ha… hahah.

  This was… insane.

  Was she worried? A little bit.

  She grabbed her stomach with both hands, pressing her palms against the front and back. Healing energy surged through her. She remained in agony for a few seconds, then, just like that, it faded away.

  She was brand new again.

  The monkey monster tilted its head in confusion, eyes flickering with disbelief. It must have been wondering how the hell she was not dead.

  She smiled at it, mocking. Then she mouthed the words: W-E-A-K.

  Its eyes twitched. A deep anger rose from its chest. She doubted it understood what she had said, but even a cat could read body language, and hers was obvious.

  She gave Crusbull a command, and rocks began covering her body, forming powerful armor. Her favorite skill so far. Although, Feather Dance was climbing the ranks.

  She [inspected] the creature’s level.

  16.

  The monkey dashed at Crusbull, one arm drawn back for a powerful punch. She grabbed Crusbull and pulled it back into her palm, leaving the monkey to strike thin air.

  As it fell toward the ground, she seized its leg and swung it down with all her strength, trying to smother its flames. But it didn’t work.

  Its legs kicked wildly, forcing her to release it. She sent out a snake. A serpent made of water.

  The monkey flipped onto its feet and lunged for her face, its fiery fangs snapping toward her throat.

  But too bad for it, her earth armor held strong. Its fangs failed to pierce through.

  Her water snake suddenly lashed out and coiled around the monkey’s legs.

  It screamed, clawing at the snake with its burning hands. She grabbed one of its arms and pinned it down with her arms and legs. It almost felt like a judo, or was it, it was some martial art, move, something her ex-boyfriend from Earth had once shown her on his phone.

  The creature easily resisted her weight and strength, thrashing her back and forth. But at least she had limited its attacking potential.

  Now to finish it.

  Snakes of Water.

  The serpent answered her command. Suddenly, the ground beneath them turned into a pond.

  The monkey panicked as its back hit the water. A fire-and-water creature still being vulnerable to water. Talk about tragic.

  Then came the next phase.

  More water snakes erupted from the pond, striking with furious bites. Their fangs dug deep into the monkey’s flames, steam rising as the fire flickered. One by one, they coiled around its body, constricting it despite its desperate kicks and screams.

  She released her grip on its arm and got the hell out of the attack zone. The water wasn’t deep. She sank knee-deep before finding solid ground and climbing out.

  From a safe distance, she watched the monkey fight for its life.

  Then something changed.

  Its fury grew. Its chest heaved. Its head snapped from side to side.

  The flames that had been dying suddenly roared back to life, and the pond began to steam.

  Oh boy.

  To me, now.

  The water snake instantly uncoiled from the monkey’s legs and dashed toward her. She absorbed it into her hand.

  And ran.

  The flames grew larger and more jagged, igniting the grass around them. The monkey screamed in defiance, like it wanted everyone to look at it. To fear it.

  Then, in an explosion of fire and stone, the monkey was gone.

  The blast expanded outward like a burning sphere, slamming into her and washing over her like a tidal wave. Heat. Intense, searing heat. Then came the sledgehammer blows, pain erupting across her body, each strike punctuated by deafening bangs.

  Shards of rock shot toward her like bullets, splintering her armor and breaking off chunks in rapid succession. She dropped to the ground, shielding her head with her arms. A stone struck her forearm with a sickening crunch. Then her jaw. Then her legs. And then nothing.

  Except this.

  Personal Level: 20.

  [Choose a Life Buff:]

  ...

  She had wanted to capture that monster. Now all she had was a single decent one. Oh well. And pain.

  She was in agony. Too much pain. So much. But what was pain to her? Nothing.

  She moved her arm, suppressing the urge to scream. Then she placed a hand on the other and healed it. She repeated the process across her body until the pain was gone.

  Pushing herself up, she noticed her white dress had been scorched black. Only the right shoulder and a small portion on her side remained, barely held together by loose threads.

  In other words, her body had been severely burned before she healed herself. Her clothes had probably melted into her skin. Thankfully, she didn’t have to see that.

  She ignored her exposed state and held her hands in front of her, staring at them. She had mixed feelings toward these hands. They were powerful. That was good, but only for her.

  She just wished they weren’t so selfish. She didn’t want to think about Ulah, but she couldn’t help it. She wished her power didn’t harm others.

  Slowly, she touched her face, feeling the rough texture of her skin. Her fingers slid upward until they met her dry hair, threading through it with much resistance until her hands collided. Then she started again, moving from different points on her scalp.

  She didn’t hate her hands. That was difficult to think.

  She saw their potential. She knew they could do more. But sometimes, walls couldn’t be broken. She had to understand that. And even if she could never love them, she was grateful that they protected her.

  She brought her hands back into view and activated her healing aura. Bigger. Stronger.

  The aura flared to life, burning brighter and thicker than before. With her level-up, she could pour even more ether into it. Probably over fifty percent more.

  She did not look at the power with joy or sorrow. If only she could heal others.

  Sighing, she let the aura fade and allowed darkness to return. She was exhausted. She needed sleep.

  She sent out Forwing, watching as it soared high into the sky, guiding her toward the exit. Her shoes had burned away, forcing her to walk barefoot on scorched earth that had been lush green just minutes ago.

  Damn monkey.

  She asked the system about the available life buffs.

  The knowledge flooded into her mind instantly.

  [Personal Space] – Store anything in your personal dimension, as long as it lacks a will opposing storage.

  [+100% to Mental Focus]

  There was something new.

  [Tier up Inspect to Inspect I – Grants the ability to see levels up to three times your own.]

  Mental Focus was most likely tied to the Mind stat. But Personal Space, that one was a no-brainer. Almost every Vlandos had it. Why wouldn’t they? It made life so much easier.

  But they all fought with just one monster. That doctor back at the estate, however, easily controlled two at once. She had explained why. She had built her mind for it.

  She wanted to control multiple monsters at once. Her fighting style revolved around speed and overwhelming the enemy with attacks. She imagined how much deadlier she would be if she could command multiple creatures at the same time.

  But without [Personal Space], she would be severely limited in what she could carry. With it, she could travel freely without worrying about supplies, food, water, even a bed.

  But it simply made life easier. She wanted more creativity in her fights. More freedoms. An advantage.

  She clicked her tongue as she stepped around a fallen log, still trailing Forwing, careful to avoid any lurking monsters.

  She thought she already knew her choice.

  She selected [Mental Focus]. Immediately, her mind sharpened. Clearer. Faster. Cleaner. Better.

  She could do more. She allocated 15 mod points to Mind. 3 to Speed. 2 to Defense.

  This felt amazing.

  Information on the changes flooded her mind, and she smiled. By the time she woke up tomorrow, she would be different.

  Time passed. An hour, maybe more. She finally neared the first dome. Calling Forwing back to her seal, she summoned Crusbull.

  It grunted as its body materialized. A shell of cracked rock formed around her, shielding her exposed skin. Normally, she would have rushed to do that. Being seen naked was one of her greatest fears. But at that moment, she did not think of that.

  Her mind was on her hands, as if it were her first time seeing them. Really thinking about them. As if everything else did not matter.