Nilbog sprinted into the labyrinth of alleyways, ducking below the Life Infused arrow. It struck the concrete walls, causing rubble to explode in all directions. He covered his face with both of his arms, letting his coat taking the brunt of it. The shards were reduced to a dull drumming throughout his body. It was surprisingly pleasant.

Without missing a step Nilbog kept sprinting, zig-zagging at every few intervals. Another arrow narrowly missed his head as he made a sharp turn, the explosion ringing behind him a second later. He passed another corner before he jumped to the side, hiding behind a couple of trash-bags at a dead-end.

One hand covered his mouth, trying to hide his breathing, while the other went over his heart.

He wasn’t sure if their Life Force skill was up, or whether covering his Life Force Source actually did a thing.

The archer and by four others ran by without a pause, their Scouting skill not finding him this time.

Swallowing the fear, he got down to the floor. Ignoring the muck that began to cover him, he stuck his head from the bottom, glancing both ways.

No one was chasing him—for now.

That makes four. Five if you included the Silent Mage.

Why did everyone think he was easy prey? Just because he was a single Cub wandering in the middle of a civil war--

Nilbog stopped there. Going solo was a mistake, but it’s not like he had any choice in the matter. No place was safe. Even if he found a tidy corner to hide in, Scout skills could still pinpoint his location. If they could find him, they could also find out that he was alone. Countless groups hunted around, those with the best Scout skills finding the best prey to hunt. Not being able to conceal his Life Force made him easy prey.

His STM had suffered for it, too. For the entire day, all Nilbog had done was scramble from one hole to the other, taking damage here and there. His HP fell to 73 while his Overall STM returned to a painful 256. At this point joining an Anima group might just be the better alternative.

Another chase, and even if they don’t kill him, the STM deprivation will.

Nilbog’s stomach twisted, bubbling as it howled for substance.

Or the starvation.

Hunger

HP, STM, and Overall STM regeneration decreased by 10%.

Being a monster meant that he could sleep a lot less, but it also meant he had to eat more than normal. He hadn’t hunted any rabbits or squirrels since he’s been in the kingdom, and non-meat food barely satisfied his hunger. All the running for dear life made it worse. The more resources he spent the quicker the debuff would evolve. He had even forgotten the stash of food that was supposed to keep him alive through this Phase.

Searching for food and water was not easy. If the factions did not hold control over them then it was already looted by rogue groups that Nilbog had no business contesting with.

Rats scuttled around him right then, almost as if to taunt him.

As Nilbog aimlessly wandered the alleyways, that option became more likely. The city was locked—there was no foraging for food. Just how else would he fin--

Metal rang a short distance away. This time, he was too tired too even attempt at refuting his curiosity. He crept his way forward, sticking his head out from the bottom of the corner.

Two parties of Wolfs were battling it out in the narrow alleyways. Archers could do little in this situation. Barely three men were able to fight side by side. The archers tried to weave one through their friend’s sides, but that had a higher chance of hitting their own rather than the enemy.

Fire Balls, bolts, and grenades were tossed from the other side only to be shot down by arrows.

Nibog took a few steps back before a deadly, but ingenious idea, struck him.

The two parties fighting were Anima and Animus, with Nilbog behind the Animus group.

In the end, what that meant for him as he scuttled behind the two Animus Archers, was that there was a chance that they carried supplies with them. Crystals, potions, or food—anything that he can put in his mouth, really.

The thought of attacking them from behind did not even pass his mind. Just because they were Archers it did not mean they could not use the swords at their sides. They might have skills that will activate if he gets close. Sixth Sense was the most common one, though the list was presumably long.

Be very, very quiet, he told himself as he tip-toed. Other than the tendrils that covered every Life Force user, giving them a slight glow in various different intensities of yellow, the flames were the only other source of light. It was too dark to see anything without Life Empowerment to boost sight. The moon was hidden by the tall walls.

What his eyes couldn’t see, however, his nose certainly could smell. The trash and rotting rats were atrocious, but it was not as nauseating as the smell of humans. All Nilbog did was backtrack the path the Archers had taken, and surely, a short distance away from the battle, a black duffle bag was hidden under a coat. A quick look showed potions, bandages, sharpening stones, and most importantly, dried meat.

Unidentified Red Potion x4

Unidentified Yellow Potion x2

Unidentified Purple Potion x2

There were no labels, unfortunately. HP potions were made from melting Crimson Crystals. As the name implied, they were always red, but the issue here was that it might have color dyed poison.

An enormous amount of Mana suddenly flared up behind Nilbog. He spun around, staring wide-eyed as the alleyway turned orange.

The Anima Mage had launched a large fireball right as his frontline ducked. The flames flew inches over their heads, exploding right in between the enemy front line. The explosion smashed them against the stone with enough force that the building shook. Their Life Armor held, however, and they quickly recovered for the follow-up attack.

Nilbog saw it, but the two Archers didn’t. Right as the flame exploded, a bright orange crystal the size of a fist was thrown through the smoke. It landed in between them.

Orange crystals. A finger of it blows the hand, a fistful of it blows the body. That was the measurement he was given. The Archers noticed it far too late. One jumped forward while the other attempted to scale the wall, but neither could escape the fiery explosion that erupted when the crystal cracked. A river of flames spread so fast that the sound itself lagged behind the expansion.

The first one escaped mostly intact, but the one that attempted to scale the wall lost his balance as the shockwave blew him against the wall. He fell into the flames in a fit of panic and screams. His Life Armor protected him from the intense heat he attempted to scramble his way out, but they were not able to protect him from the follow-up attack of the Mage and archer. With no counter-fire to stop them, a volley of fireballs and explosive arrows landed into the fire.

Time to book it. Nilbog snatched the duffle bag, grunting as the straps dug into his shoulders.

He darted the opposite way, taking two steps before running head-on into a wall. He bounced off, falling on his butt.

Rubbing his forehead, he got up, cursing. The light of the flames must have blinded him. He stretched out one hand while the other held the straps of the ba.

His fingers touched metal. A pipe on the wall? A Garbage disposal?

Nilbog took a few steps to the right.

The piece of metal did, too.

“Hello there,” Nilbog said, looking up. Two glimmering yellow eyes looked down on him from below an Animus insignia. “Sorry about that, didn’t see you there,” he said, stepping to the side. He had no chance against a Wolf. No need to fight, really.

“I did,” he said, his voice heavy and unamused. He stepped in front of Nilbog again, folding his arms. “Nice bag you got there.”

“This?” Nilbog said incredulously. “It can’t be. It was tossed away like trash!”

“I see,” the man said, nodding. “You know what they say, one man’s tra-”

Nilbog leaped back, one knife out while the other held the bag. “Your friends need you,” he said, breathing heavily. “Is killing me worth the time?”

“Of course,” he said, and before Nilbog could react an iron gauntlet caught his neck. It lifted him into the air without a struggle.

Nilbog gasped, his feet kicking the air. The bag slipped off his shoulders, falling to the ground. He stabbed with his knife, hoping it would find a joint, but all he struck was impenetrable Life Enforced metal. Sentient Killer didn’t make a single difference.

No Penetration!

No Penetration!

No Penetration!

Blood filled his head like an overripe tomato, threatening to burst as the pressure built up. Nilbog could see the bastard’s eyes through his helm. They watched him with a tinge of curiosity in them, studying the way the agony twisted his ugly face.

If he’s enjoying this, then… Against the instincts of his body, Nilbog stopped struggling. He held the knife at his side, and just glared at the two glowing eyeballs hidden within the helm as the air in his lungs ran out. If he’s gonna die to a sadistic bastard, then so be it. At the very least he won’t allow him the pleasure.

It was just an instant. The man lessened the force of his grasp, and in that tiny moment, Nilbog got half a breath. It was enough to return the sensation of his arms to him. It wasn’t enough to charge Lethal Strike, but it was enough for one attack.

Critical Damage!

Minor Penetration! You have dealt 16 Damage!

You have dealt Bleed Damage!

You have Inflicted a partial Blind Effect!

The blade went halfway through slits of his helm, wedging itself against the metal.

“Got some fire in you. More than the Mage, at least,” he said, startling Nilbog. No reaction. Not even a finch. He wrapped his hands around Nilbog’s, crushing it and the knife’s handle in a single squeeze.

You have taken 8 blunt damage!

You have received a major hand injury!

Broken Right Hand

Your Maximum HP will be reduced by 5% until the injury heals. Using your Right Hand will cause great pain.

Time left: 27 Hours.

“What are you,” Nilbog wheezed. He bit his lips to prevent his cries from escaping.

“Not very smart, though,” he said, and tossed him a few inches in the air. His hand wrapped behind, clutching the back of Nilbog’s skull. “Look.”

The flames dispersed, showing the Mage's party laying on the ground. A separate group was roping them in.

There were two parties against one...

“Uriel, what’s that you got there?” one of the newly arrived men said, walking towards them. The darkness concealed his face, but like Uriel, he was in full plate armor. Nilbog couldn’t tell if it was Soul Equipment, though it hardly mattered. They were too strong with or without it.

“A rat.”

“Looks a bit big to be a rat.”

“A very large rat,” Uriel said humorlessly.

“A very large rat with a knife. Why is it wandering alone? Better yet, why is it still alive?”

“Gentlemen,” Nilbog said. A strained smile spread on his face. It took a moment until he was able to speak without letting his emotion seep into his voice. “It seems there has been a misunderstanding.”

“Might be a fox,” Uriel said. “We’ll find out if we take the skin off.”

“More like a goblin. Think we’ll get something if we bring his ears to one of the City Guilds?”

“Don, we destroyed most of that one in the last raid. I don’t think they’ll be too happy to see us again.”

“Can I offer a suggestion?” Nilbog said, finding the glimmer of hope.

“No,” Uriel said.

“Sure,” Don said.

Nilbog went with the second one. “I heard capturing rewards you with points.”

“How many points would I get for a rat?” Don said, tugging at Nilbog’s coat. “Nice. Mind if I borrow it?”

“Go ahead,” Nilbog said, shrugging as best as he could. “Was too big for me anyway, but more importantly, I heard there are penalties for killing low levels.”

“Uriel, correct me if I’m wrong, but did he, or did he not, try to rob and then kill you?”

“He did, Don, he did.”

“Doesn’t that mean that, and I say this according to the rules, that we have been sufficiently provoked?”

“Yes, Don, I believe we can. The evidence is dripping down my helm.”

“Ah,” Nilbog said. “Clearly though, seeing as how your eye has completely rejuvenated in a matter of seconds, you wouldn’t dare say that my meek needle was enough to pose a danger to you, does it?”

“No danger,” Don said, shaking his head. “More of an annoyance.”

“And do you know, little thief, what we do with annoyances?” Uriel said.

“You give them a nice meal and send them on their way?” Nilbog said, raising one hopeful eyebrow up. It’s not like he had anything else to lose.

“Close,” Uriel said, and tossed him into the air. When Nilbog came down, Uriel’s fist plunged deep into his abdomen. It held him in the air as his body gave out. The lights were so knocked out of him that he couldn’t even read how much damage he took. He couldn’t resist the Stun status affect.

“Could have just tied him up,” Nilbog could hear Don say as his vision faltered. He struggled to stay awake. Everything began to dim, including his thoughts.

“Felt like we were being made fun of,” Uriel said. Nilbog began swaying as he was carried by the cuff of his coat. “He thought we wouldn’t hurt him.”

“No,” Don said. “He was taunting the hurt. Can’t hurt the man if he’s dead, Uriel. We got a fox on your hands.”

“Ah, should I prove him wrong?”

What bad acting, Nilbog thought as his consciousness faded. Another day, another chance. Just you wait.