“Shit,” Mark whispered as he retreated towards the camp. Before the creatures could even step foot into the campfire's light, he saw the crimson letters forming above the shadows skittering towards him.

Thrummer Drone (Level 2).

Thrummer Drone (Level 3).

“Hey, Helena!” he called out. “Wake up, please!” But the woman didn’t even stir.

Staring out into the darkness, Mark tightened his grip on the axe’s handle. He had no idea when the woman would come to. He didn’t even know what was out here waiting for them. But escape wasn’t an option. At least not while also carrying Helena and their gear. His only chance was to make a stand here.

And hope that Helena would wake up before it was too late.

The two drones crept closer to the corpse of their fallen kin, circling around it as they took turns thrumming that same bass-like noise. Already, the parched soil had claimed what little moisture it could out of the dead creature’s black blood.

Fixing his sights on the level 2 drone, Mark leaned down and grabbed a rock. He flung it next to the thrummer, expecting it to pounce. But instead, both of them ignored the rock and snapped towards him, their cores’ vibrations growing even louder.

Then, they charged.

Mirroring each other’s movements, the drones attacked in perfect unison. Mark jumped back, the ground in front of him exploding underneath the thrummer’s leg.

He coughed, squinting through the swirling dust as he felt his blood ignite. Locking onto the crystal orb embedded into the drone’s core, he rushed in before the creature could free its leg from the calcified soil.

But the moment Mark got within striking distance, the other thrummer’s leg cut through the dust cloud.

Already mid-swing, he tried to block with his axe, only for the armored leg to smash the wooden shaft in two, before crashing straight into his shoulder.

Mark staggered back and screamed, clutching his right arm as it hung limp along his body. Although barely, he could at least still feel his fingers.

He glared at the two creatures, gritting his teeth while the roiling anger dulled his pain. Glancing down at his broken axe, Mark took a step back as his left hand fumbled to unsheathe his short sword.

Immediately, the creatures skittered towards him, maintaining the same distance down to the millimeter. The two took turns chittering to one another before taking a shot at him.

Parrying with his sword, Mark felt the shock reverberate throughout his arm.

“Shit,” he whispered as the drones simply stood there, skittering occasionally from side to side as they waited for him to make a move. Given the weight behind the creatures’ blows, at best, he could use his sword as a subpar shield.

Mark shuddered again at the thrummers’ strange movements, before pushing the feeling aside. He wouldn’t have minded this stalemate, if not for the growing tremors rippling through the ground. More drones were on the way and, regardless of his speed, he couldn’t fight more than a couple of these things at a time.

He took another look at the glowing veins beneath his skin, their brightness a match even for the campfire’s dancing flames, before glancing at the unconscious woman resting behind him.

In her rage, Helena had saved him. Even if that hadn’t been her intention at the time, she still did. He at least owed her the same. And he would pay her back in kind.

Temples throbbing, Mark groaned and clenched his busted arm. He gave in to the raging power coursing just beneath his skin, letting it sear away his doubts and worries. As if purged by fire, his thoughts quieted, giving way to an absolute focus.

Guided by the visceral wrath, he leaned forward and charged.

Mark burst forth, instantly closing the gap between him and the drones. Eyes trained on their legs, his body instinctively sidestepped, letting the smaller thrummer’s attack rush past him.

Without hesitation, he grabbed the drone’s leg and jumped back, twisting it off. Black ooze sprayed out of the twitching stump, smearing Mark and the earth below, as he then used his whole body to smash the thrummer’s armored limb into its core.

The creature’s chittering ceased, but Mark’s gaze had already switched to the other drone. He threw the leg at the thrummer, forcing it to retreat as he darted towards it, snatching up his broken axe.

Knowing it couldn’t outrun him, the drone stopped. It then slammed its core against the ground, sending rapid tremors through the earth, before lunging at Mark.

He stopped on instinct, letting one of the thrummer’s legs swat the air in front of him as the other speared past his left arm, rending his skin.

But Mark brushed off the muddled pain, tightening his grip around the splintered shaft. He then swung his axe into its core, shattering the orb before the drone could even hit the ground.

With both creatures dead, the haze around his mind lessened as he stopped to catch his breath, his jaw held partially in place due to the segmented mask he wore. With a sense of calm that he didn’t know he was capable of, Mark watched his glowing blood begin to dim as it trickled down his forearm, combining with the thrummer’s blackened ooze.

But terror soon replaced his calm demeanor. It didn’t take long for the inky blood to fully mix with his. At that moment, Mark felt something stir within himself. He looked on horrified as the muddied, crimson sludge raced up his arm and into his open wound.

“The fuck…?” he gasped, slamming his hand over the gash. But the tainted blood slipped easily past his trembling fingers, slithering back into his wound.

Spurred on by his frantic pulse, Mark could feel the alien liquid flowing through him as needle-like agony spread throughout his body, bringing him to his knees. In tears, he pressed his head into the earth and screamed, cursing both Aernor and this godforsaken place.

By the time he felt the tremors getting closer, Mark couldn’t tell whether just a few minutes had passed or if it had been mere seconds. His throat was hoarse and dry, while his eyes stung each time they blinked.

Forcing himself up, he groaned, still struggling with the aftermath of whatever had happened. His body no longer ached at least. But he felt drained. Weakened. It was then that Mark finally noticed the letters floating in the corner of his vision.

Absorption of foreign matter complete. Assimilation in progress: 0%.

Mark Chambers

Level 2 (Human)

Attribute Ranks (Level-up Option Available):

AGL: 1.5

CON: 1.5

MAG: 1.5

STR: 1.5

Abilities: (1/4)

- [Locked] (Assimilation in progress: 0%)

Divine Blessing:

- [Aernor’s Blood]

“Absorption?” Mark muttered, unwilling to even look at the dark gash across his arm. What the hell was his body even supposed to assimilate from that thing’s blood? Was he going to sprout a second pair of arms or some other insanity? And to top it all off, he had somehow gained a new ability. But he couldn’t keep up with the storm of thoughts raging inside his head.

Mark sighed and turned towards the only easy thing he could wrap his mind around.

Select Level-up Reward:

(+1) to AGL. (+1) to CON. (+1) to MAG. (+1) to STR. (+0.5) to ALL.

+0.5 to ALL Attribute Ranks selected.

Immediately, Mark felt some of his exhaustion fade away. The wound on his left arm scarred over beneath his very eyes while the pain in his right shoulder also lessened. More importantly, his current strength didn’t seem quite as high as it was during the fight. But the two were definitely comparable.

Picking his axe up by what little was left of its handle, Mark inched closer to the campfire and peered into the darkness. Moments later, three more drones emerged into the shaking light, filling the air with that infernal buzz.

But upon witnessing the lifeless bodies of their ilk, the three thrummers fanned out, chittering angrily as they ringed Mark in, their movements eerily in sync.

Thrummer Drone (Level 3).

Thrummer Drone (Level 2).

Thrummer Drone (Level 3).

However, scanning their status, Mark couldn’t help but sigh in relief. Two were just above his level, and nowhere near as strong as the first one he had killed. Setting his sights on the smallest of the drones, he took a deep breath and allowed the titan’s blessing to run wild.

His blood set itself alight once more, power and rage overflowing as he dashed forward.

Caught off-guard, the creature leaned back. But before it could do anything, Mark’s leg came crashing down on top of its core, cracking the crystal orb beneath his foot.

The ground shook as the other drones rushed him, ready to strike.

An all-consuming frenzy washed over Mark, sending chills down his spine the moment he leaped towards one of the creatures and dodged one blow aimed at his chest. The other struck his thigh, sweeping him off his feet.

He caught himself midfall before rolling out of the way just as the other drone tried to stomp his head.

Still on the ground, Mark lunged for the thrummer before it could retreat. He grabbed its leg and pulled, twisting it off like paper. He then rushed to his feet, circling around and placing the hobbled creature between himself and the other drone.

A dull ache radiated from his thigh as Mark heard more tremors echoing in the distance. But underneath his strange mask, he simply grinned.

Never had he felt so alive before. So… strong.

Helena’s eyes shot open as waves of agonizing stings ravaged her hands. Out of breath, she noticed the chill-weave wrapped around them. Slowly prying her hands out, she did her best to suppress the incredible urge to scratch.

But as she saw the state of her hands, the scene of Cassius’ death at the hand of the Ashen King came flooding back. Helena sighed softly as she fought down the knot in her throat, her eyes welling up with tears.

This shouldn’t have happened… This was just supposed to be a simple scouting mission! And that damned monster should have never been so close to the Blacksea’s edge!

But wait. How did she even get here?

She got up slowly, stumbling out of the makeshift tent as she witnessed the scene in front of her.

Strewn around the stained soil surrounding the camp, were dozens of dead thrummers. Carefully stepping over the field of severed limbs and rock-shelled corpses, Helena’s gaze fell upon the unconscious, blood-soaked figure of the man they had met earlier.

Just how long had she been out?