Chapter 34

  Raime moved through the forest like the air itself carried him.

  Levitation had become so natural that his boots almost never touched the ground anymore. On the second day of his training, he decided that, except during martial practice, he would move only by using his newly learned levitation—both to improve his control and because he just loved it. His body rose and drifted with each step, carried by threads of psionic force that flowed as steadily as breath. The first time he’d managed to float for more than a few seconds had left him dizzy with triumph, but now he hardly thought about it. He adjusted his height with idle flickers of intent—hovering low to slip under twisted branches, lifting high above brambles, sliding sideways with a twist of focus.

  It was so easy now that he sometimes forgot gravity even applied to him.

  Thunk rested loosely in his right hand, his grip casual, while the Tetra Unum traced its orbit around him. While the spear part of the weapon was always beside him, the three blades instead rotated in a particular formation, slashing down anything that strayed too close. They moved as though bound by invisible lines, a shifting halo of steel. The sound they made—the whistle of air, the hum of momentum—was a constant companion in the forest.

  Even after deepening the bond to the same level as Thunk, keeping all three blades moving had demanded a discrete degree of concentration, especially while levitating. Each flick of thought drained him, every strike left him gasping. Now, he could direct their flow while still holding half a dozen other tasks in mind. He could think about the arc of a blade, maintaining awareness of his surroundings, the weight of his body in the air, and the invisible hand that shoved a monster aside. His mind no longer staggered beneath the load as before.

  A movement flickered in the brush.

  Raime didn’t bother to even worry. A creature leapt, small but fast, its segmented legs carrying it in a blur toward his chest. He shifted only slightly, his psionic threads releasing the energy he needed. The beast froze mid-air, suspended like a puppet caught on tangled strings. Its eyes wide with panic, limbs flailing. Raime’s lips tightened as he drew a breath, then let it out slowly. With the exhale, he pressed downward.

  The beast hit the earth so hard the crack of its spine carried through the clearing.

  Raime lowered his hand. Easy, especially with the little ones.

  Not because the creature was weak—it wasn’t. A week ago, that thing could’ve gutted him if he got him off-guard. But the world had shifted beneath his feet. His attributes had risen, his mind sharper, his reactions cleaner, his will stronger. Every point the System had given him carved away some of the clumsy human limitation. Where once he had hesitated, particularly after his bout with the two adult centipedes, now he felt confident enough to seek out a challenge.

  Another monster lurched from the shadows, drawn by the sound. A wolf-like shape, just much higher on the hips than the front legs, with a hairless hide pale and mottled, teeth too long for its jaw. It growled, but Raime was already moving.

  The Tetra Unum surged ahead, its blades separating to strike from three angles at once. The wolf darted sideways—but one blade caught its flank, another a leg, the third buried deep in its skull. The creature collapsed in a spray of ichor, the weapons returning to orbit without Raime sparing a glance.

  Instead, he tested himself on the smaller threats.

  Two insect-things clambered from the undergrowth, barely the size of a chihuahua. Harmless, really. But Raime extended his will anyway, catching one by its carapace and hurling it skyward. It pinwheeled helplessly, clicking frantically until it smashed into a branch of the canopy above, dead. The second skittered close, mandibles clacking, only to be held by an invisible hand mid-air, pressure building around its body until the chitin cracked. Squeezed like a bug, literally.

  Raime’s face contorted slightly. That was disgusting. Why can’t these beasts leave me a minute of peace… I swear I can’t walk ten meters without something trying to kill me. Well… not that I’m walking much lately.

  That was what the Rift’s inhabitants had become for him: a training ground. While before this zone was, if not impossible to face, at least very hard, with his little energy reserves and low psionics capabilities. Now he was stronger, faster, more controlled—but he refused to mistake progress for mastery. And not for a second was he going to fool himself, thinking that he was able to face every threat the Rift could throw at him. He already made that mistake. A week ago he nearly died. Six days ago, he could barely lift himself from the ground. Now though, he floated through the forest like gravity was a suggestion. The speed of it unsettled him at times.

  If this is what six days did, what would six weeks bring? Six months?

  The thought wasn’t comforting. His growth felt… unnatural. He knew it wasn’t just his effort. Yes, he pushed himself harder than ever before, drilling until sweat poured and his lungs screamed. Yes, he meditated until every thread of energy obeyed. But still—so much of it came from outside himself.

  His attributes were climbing at a pace no human could have matched before integration. Resolve sharper than steel. Cognition that mapped problems faster than he could articulate them. Insight that let him trace the flow of his own power as if it were written in ink. He could see the way the psionic energy threaded through his body, could feel how it resisted and obeyed in equal measure. Without those stats, he doubted he could have managed half as much.

  And then there were the thought-knots.

  They showed him ways of bending will and thought he never would have invented alone. They gave him so much raw understanding; it was unfair to whomever should try to repeat his feats alone. Without them, his improvements might have taken him weeks, months even instead of mere days. With them, he could map out patterns of force, recognize how to spread energy through every cell of his body, how to direct it outward into the world.

  He knew he was building on a borrowed foundation. Yet in his position his choices were limited, and he had to take all the help he could get.

  Another beast crashed through the brush. Larger this time—a big cat-like creature, with tusks as long as Raime’s arm. Its charge tore furrows through the undergrowth, muscle and fury barreling straight for him.

  Raime rose higher, his body tilting back with a subtle shift. The beast thundered beneath him, tusks swiping empty air. As it passed, Raime extended his hand. The Tetra Unum responded instantly, the blades streaking downward in a coordinated strike. One pierced the creature’s neck, another split its skull, the third tore through its spine.

  The beast skidded, momentum carrying it forward before collapsing in a heap.

  Raime exhaled, settling back down to hover half a meter above the ground. Ok, that was overkill. All the lesser beasts or the juveniles are not a real danger to me anymore, at least I can confirm my progress.

  The monsters weren’t weak. But he wasn’t the same man who had stumbled through this forest during his first days on Ithural. He was something else now.

  Impressive what a couple of weeks in hell and the System can do to a guy. I wonder if everyone will be forced to change or die now…

  He adjusted his orbit, calling the blades back close, and drifted forward. His mind was already splitting again: part on his body’s balance, part on the blades’ rhythm, part on the subtle pushes and pulls of freeform telekinesis. He shoved a fallen log aside without looking, nudged a cluster of insects from his path, and proceeded to read the residual traces of every beast that passed through his path recently. He learned that the skill he was starting to use less and less had much more to offer, after raising his attributes, he could feel the emotions possessed by the traces at the moment they were created. Not really useful with beasts if he was being honest, but he refuse to let this potentially incredible ability wither, when he’ll be back to civilization it could prove invaluable.

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  With those thoughts he constantly trained his skills, every motion added to his control. Every repetition built mastery.

  Six days ago, levitation had been a miracle.

  Now it was his preferred means of transportation.

  It’s still incredibly fun too! I really need a bit of fun here… what would the twins say when they see me fly around? I’m sure they will nag me to teach them until my ears fall off at the very least. The thought brought a smile to his face, that was promptly erased by a shriek in the distance. High-pitched and grating, the kind of sound that set teeth on edge. Raime stilled in the air, head turning toward the source. The forest hushed around him, even the smaller beasts scurrying for cover. He knew that cry. Lately he’d heard it in his nightmares—the bone-deep rattling shriek of one of the great centipedes. A predator that had once nearly killed him.

  He exhaled slowly, a spark of something fierce lighting in his chest. Fear, yes, but tangled with anticipation. He’d avoided them until now, wary of the confrontation after barely coming out alive last time. But after six days of relentless training, after mastering the flow of his psionic threads and building strength through practice, he felt ready. I’ve hidden long enough. If I’m going to measure myself, it should be against something that terrify me. I’m tired of those stupid nightmares and if I have to prove myself that I have nothing to fear now, then I will.

  The decision came a couple of days ago with a strange calm. Not bravado, not arrogance—just certainty that testing his mettle against the centipede was the only way forward. With a thought, he tightened the Tetra Unum’s orbit, calling it close. The weapon hovered at his side, angled downward, gleaming faintly with psionic reinforcement.

  He rose higher through the trees, leaves brushing against him as he slipped into the canopy. From here, he could move faster, skimming above the forest while keeping his senses stretched outward. His Insight thrummed at the edge of awareness, faint impressions of movement bleeding into his mind. Each rustle, each tremor of soil, each displaced current of air spoke to him now, a language he’d been forced to learn.

  It didn’t take long to find the centipede.

  The creature surged through the undergrowth below, armoured segments glinting metallic gray, each one rippling with unnatural speed. Its head—serpentine and vicious—snapped from side to side, white eyes with violet pupils scanning for prey. It was massive, probably more than three meters in diameter, thicker and longer than the ones he faced before, its many legs twitching in the air with a rhythm that set Raime’s pulse racing.

  He stood above it, hidden in the trees above the beast, watching. His palms were slick, but not from panic. No—this was the sharp, burning tension of standing on the edge of a trial he had chosen. Last time I wanted to run. Today, I hunt.

  The Tetra Unum slid into motion, circling forward like a wolf scenting the flank of its quarry. At the same time, Raime shifted higher, his body angled for control, not escape. He let his breathing steady, pulling the threads of his mind into readiness. Telekinesis hummed at his fingertips, woven into a dozen potential strikes.

  The centipede paused suddenly, head rearing up. It had felt something—perhaps the faint disturbance of psionic energy, perhaps sheer predatory instinct. Its shriek shattered the quiet again, the sound tearing through branches and rattling in Raime’s bones.

  He only smiled grimly. Let’s see who’s the hunter or the prey this time.

  With a mighty push, he sent himself downward, descending from the canopy like an arrow loosed from the sky.

  The hunt had begun.

  The canopy blurred past him as gravity seized his body. The Tetra Unum whirled at his side, its blades shimmering with psionic intent, but it was Thunk he chose for the opening. He gripped the heavy weapon, threads weaved inside it to amplify his strength and resilience. Then, in the elongated clarity of his perception he aimed for the armoured head plate flashing below.

  The centipede had barely begun to turn towards his descent when the impact came.

  Thunk slammed against the broad plate of the beast’s skull with a deafening bang, like a hammer against iron. The shock rattled through Raime’s arms, but his body absorbed it with newfound resilience. The chitin fractured, jagged fissures spreading across the armoured surface. Not a killing blow, but something he had never managed before—a real wound, an opening carved into what once felt impenetrable.

  The centipede shrieked, body recoiling from the hit, its white eyes flashing purple as it reared back. Even as it writhed, the Tetra Unum darted forward, threads guiding the three blades like hunting raptors. They struck with precision, sneaking into the gaps between plates, tearing flesh where armour gave way. Each blade opened a deep line across the segmented body, and thick ichor spilled in dark streams, sizzling faintly where it met the soil.

  A perfect opening.

  Raime landed lightly, his momentum nearly spent on the first strike, he stepped on the monster head before floating away from the retaliatory snapping jaws, weapons already circling again. His heart was beating strong in his ears, his thoughts sharper than a razor. He watched the centipede thrash, but in his mind, the creature moved as though submerged in water—sluggish, predictable in his augmented perception.

  It lunged, mandibles snapping, but Raime was already gone, moving aside with effortless grace. His perception had slowed the world, and the psionic threads carried the Tetra Unum in sweeping arcs. One blade gouged a plate, another bit into softer tissue near the joints, rendering a limb useless, and the third went for the inside of the centipede’s mouth. He made the blade spun around, savaging the oral cavity and making ichor flow like a fountain on the forest floor.

  The beast struck again, furious and in pain. Body coiling to crush him, jaws lashing. Raime lifted a hand, and Thunk rose with it, guided by muscles and invisible force. With a thought, he moved out of the way just enough to avoid direct contact, but still in range to retaliate. He swung his trusty lever into the creature’s face, smashing again into the fractured plate. Another crack, the wound widening, the beast hissing in pain.

  He retracted the Tetra Unum blade from the beast’s mouth, re-joining the final piece of the weapon together with the others. The rhythm of the fight shifted. Before, every clash against such a monster had been survival, desperate scrambling. Now, he controlled the tempo. His movements were measured, calculated. Each strike layered upon the last, carving weakness where none had existed.

  The centipede tried to retreat into a coiled defence, legs lashing to ward him away. Raime felt the movement before it finished, threads whispering the flow of muscles beneath chitin. He thrust the spear-tip of the Tetra Unum beneath a raised segment, tearing a new gap that spilled more ichor. The creature screamed, twisting violently, but Raime pulled back in perfect time, unharmed.

  Thunk descended once more, smashing into the already fractured headplate. Chitin splintered. The beast reeled, vision shuddering in its alien eyes. Almost there, Raime thought, threads pulling taut, guiding the spear-tip to hover over the exposed weak point.

  But the centipede wasn’t finished. With startling speed, it lashed out, body whipping like a coiled chain. Raime’s slowed perception tracked every leg, every twitch, and he leapt clear as the ground split beneath the impact. He landed on a tree trunk, sprinting sideways along the vertical surface. From there he launched, body twisting in mid-air, Tetra Unum spinning around him in a deadly orbit.

  The three blades descended like falling stars, driving deep into the open wound on the forehead he had carved earlier. They tore wider, ichor pouring in rivers now, and the beast writhed helplessly. Raime followed through, calling Thunk with a thought. The weapon smashed down onto the cracked plate a final time. The chitin shattered fully, the skull beneath exposed in a web of fissures.

  Now.

  The spear-like core of the Tetra Unum lunged, threads surging energy into the thrust. Psionic force condensed along the metal, sharpening the momentum until it became a drill of will and steel. The spear struck the exposed gap with brutal precision, sliding through cracked chitin and into the bone beneath. The weapon now was in perfect formation, the three blades looked like petals, while the spear tip was planted in between them.

  Raime linked three more Threads to the weapon and charged it with psionic power. Lavender lines and glyphs appeared for a second before the weapon shuddered, with a peculiar vibrating sound the three blades seemed to contract, and the spear core spun around itself before violently being propelled forward into the beast’s brain, and out of it, before embedding deep in the earth below.

  A trail of brain matter and ichor followed after its wake.

  The centipede convulsed, every leg spasming at once. A shriek echoed through the forest, high and terrible, before gurgling into silence. Its body thrashed in the air, then collapsed heavily, the weight shaking the earth.

  Raime exhaled slowly, his attention high until the last twitch faded. Only then did he relax and withdraw the weapon, ichor dripping from the blades in slow rivulets. The forest was quiet again, save for the faint hiss of fluid sinking into the dirt.

  He straightened, gaze calm and steady. He looked at the shattered headplate, the ragged wounds carved by the blades. This time, I was the predator.

  Thunk settled at his side, heavy and reassuring. The Tetra Unum circled slowly, like a faithful guardian. Raime flexed his fingers, feeling the Threads pulse in harmony with his heartbeat. After his efforts, a mortal fight had become doable, plate cracked, ichor spilled, monster slain without a single desperate gamble this time.

  He crouched beside the carcass, threads probing the ruined skull. The psionic feedback still hummed faintly, the echo of life bleeding away. He let it wash over him for a moment, imprinting the sensation, the memory of victory.

  I had nothing against you in particular, he said to the dead beast. But I needed to kill you to assure myself, God…am I really becoming so callous to the loss of a life?

  Then he rose, turning his gaze toward the deeper forest. The mountain loomed unseen but undeniable in his mind’s eye. More battles awaited, more predators lurking in the shadows. But Raime felt no fear. The canopy still swayed above, leaves whispering secrets in the faint wind. Today was far from over, he had a destination in mind.