The dense and oppressive forest seemed to swallow us little by little, a labyrinth of twisted trunks and foliage blocking out the light. Only the phosphorescent flowers, like lost souls, cast a pale, icy glow, distorted by the shifting shadows around us. The air was saturated with the stench of decaying flesh and mold, an overpowering scent that dulled our senses. The silence reigning between the trees, barely interrupted by the cracking of vegetation, was even more menacing than the roar of the creatures closing in.
Seven monsters. Their appearance was terrifying, a violent distortion of nature.
The largest, grotesquely deformed, advanced first, its movements clumsy yet fast. Its empty sockets were plunged into a deep black void. The beast opened its maw, unleashing a terrible scream from its torn lips.
Marie, eyes wide with terror, pressed against a tree, her breath ragged. "Not again..." she murmured, her voice broken, like a dying whisper. Yet, beyond the fear in her eyes, a glimmer of determination shone. We couldn't afford to falter. We had no choice but to hunt.
Jules, faster than lightning, wasted no time. With a swift motion, he loosed an arrow that embedded itself in the creature's eye socket. It staggered from the impact but continued its charge without hesitation, its gaping maw ready to tear through anything in its path. It seemed almost... unfeeling. Driven by some primal instinct, it kept advancing, ignoring pain, ignoring the arrow.
I didn't hesitate for a second. Melting into the shadows, I moved silently between the trees, approaching the creatures stealthily. The scent of earth, mingled with the stench of rotting bodies, filled my nostrils. I kept my eyes on the battlefield, analyzing every movement, every position. The largest creature was faltering, and I saw Janna seize the opportunity. With blistering speed, she slammed the beast's head against the ground. The sound of a skull cracking echoed, a sharp impact that made the surrounding trunks tremble. The creature collapsed in a death rattle, unable to resist any longer. Even in its monstrosity, we knew this beast would offer rare and nourishing meat, a comfort in this ruined world.
The smaller creatures were easier to handle. Romain, sword in hand and shield raised—though battered from the previous battle—remained unyielding, wielding it with incredible strength. The twisted metal of his shield gleamed under the pale light of the phosphorescent flowers, while his blade in his other hand sliced through the air in a deadly dance, facing off against three of the beasts. He was already exhausted, his breath short, his arms heavy from the effort. But he held firm, and every strike brought them closer to victory. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his gaze hardening with each new attack. The thought of the food they would gain at the end of this struggle still gave him the strength to keep fighting.
Janna, fiercer than ever, struck with an almost frenzied energy. She crushed another creature underfoot, her heel coming down on its skull with a dry, sickening crunch. Every movement was marked by an insane rage. She fought as if her life depended on it, as if she were battling against everything she had ever endured. Her gaze grew wilder, feverish, teetering on the edge of madness, and with every blow she landed, the thought of meat, of the relief waiting for us at the end, seemed to consume her even more.
Jules, calm and relentless, fired his arrows with clockwork precision. Each shot was a death sentence. He felled another beast before turning to support Janna.
As for me, I had slipped through the battle, supporting Romain, my silent strikes cutting down the creatures without mercy. Their flesh tore beneath my attacks, each blow a release for a world trapped in horror. But with every new creature we felled, fear crept deeper into me. It wasn't just the pain of battle, but the terror of facing something beyond our understanding. There was a malevolent power in these monsters that defied logic, a dark force that scraped against our very souls with each encounter. But deep in my mind, I knew this madness, this horror, would be repaid with the food we were about to claim. Every piece of meat that would fall into our hands would feed the beast growing inside each of us.
Soon, only one beast remained. It roared, an animalistic cry, one last desperate attempt. But we were ready. The creature's final efforts were in vain. Jules loosed an arrow, and the beast collapsed to the ground, dead, without another sound.
Ding! You have defeated a [Xylorath Wolf (Common) - Level 2]!
Ding! You have defeated a [Xylorath Wolf (Common) - Level 1]!
Ding! You have defeated a [Xylorath Wolf (Common) - Level 1]!
Ding! You have defeated a [Xylorath Wolf (Common) - Level 1]!
Ding! You have defeated a [Xylorath Wolf (Common) - Level 1]!
Ding! You have defeated a [Xylorath Wolf (Common) - Level 1]!
Ding! You have defeated a [Xylorath Wolf (Common) - Level 1]!
Ding! Your class [Light Warrior] has reached Level 4!
Dismissing the notifications, the image of that frantic, desperate food flashed through my mind, an obsessive thought, impossible to ignore.
Jules, ever pragmatic and meticulous, immediately set to work skinning the largest beast. With a sure hand, he cut away the edible portions, leaving behind only what was necessary. His focused gaze betrayed the urgency of the task—there was no time to waste.
Leonard, who had been a cook before all of this, briefly stepped away to search the surroundings for herbs, roots, or anything that could enhance the meager feast we were about to prepare. He didn't know the edible plants of this place, but using his identification skill, he understood that every ingredient, no matter how insignificant it seemed, could make a difference. "There are edible berries over there, and some kind of wild garlic too," he said as he returned with a handful of findings.
Meanwhile, Romain, Janna, and I were working to gather wood dry enough to start a fire. The air was cool and damp, but the embers would provide us with the warmth we desperately needed. Lucas, his energy drained from the previous battles, managed to ignite a flame using what little mana he had recovered. A spark, then a faint glow, but it was enough. The wood crackled slowly, and the warmth began to spread around us—a simple yet precious sensation after such a battle. The flame danced in the darkness of the forest, a fragile promise of comfort in a shattered world.
Leonard busied himself preparing the remaining meat. He grilled it slowly over the fire, the scent of cooking filling the air—an odd, almost metallic aroma that sent a shiver down our spines. When the meat was finally ready, its taste was anything but pleasant. It was strong, almost revolting, a harsh flavor that coated our mouths and throats. Each bite twisted uneasily in our stomachs, but it was better than nothing. There was no luxury in this meal, only the necessity to endure, to survive.
"It doesn't taste like anything we know, but it'll keep us going," Leonard muttered, grimacing as he chewed. His voice was thick, as if swallowing this meat made every word harder to speak. Yet, he ate. We all ate. Survival instinct, hunger, the need to fill the emptiness inside us—it all pushed us to swallow despite the taste.
Then, suddenly, Leonard stopped. He lowered his head, his shoulders trembling slightly. Silent tears began to fall, rolling down his cheeks like a torrent that could no longer be contained. He said nothing, but in his eyes, we could see the weight he carried. Sadness, exhaustion, and above all, loss—all of it mixed in his gaze.
Lucas stared at Leonard for a moment, his lips quivering. He couldn't hold back a sob. Then another. Then a third, until the tears spilled over, his eyes filled with anguish. He looked at Leonard, his heart heavy, and it was as if an invisible wall had shattered between them. He stood up, utterly lost, and stepped closer to him. "Leonard... I..." But the words died before he could finish them, swallowed by the pain he felt at seeing his newfound friend like this.
Marie, a silent witness to the moment, rose slowly. She leaned toward them, placing a hand on Leonard's shoulder, then on Lucas's. A simple gesture, but full of tenderness. "We'll hold on, you know," she murmured, her voice soft, filled with comfort. "We'll hold on, together."
The rest of the group ate in silence, heads lowered, respecting this moment of intimacy and grief.
The meal, simple as it was, had become a respite—a fragment of humanity amid the surrounding horror. The warmth of the fire, the food, and these small gestures of affection were fragile escapes, but they were enough to keep us going.