The sword cracked as it went down but still did its job, the monster went still immediately. Jael held his breath as he waited. He had never seen a monster killed before but now, essence rose from the monster, the same color as its scale.
It gathered in the air before it settled on him like water on the soil, slowly assimilating into his body. Jael breathed out sharply; it felt the same as when he drank bottled essence but thicker, more potent.
But just like the cheap essence, he felt it drained out of him, disappearing with a tingle in his blood. He stood there, hand over his sword and thought about his failure. "It didn't work." He croaked out.
Mike frowned. "What a waste of essence. You had better go and face your construction work. Halves like you are always needed."
It was the truth. Halfs like Jael are stronger than normal humans in terms of strength and that provides them with odd jobs like construction. It would have been okay, too, if it was going by the old-world standards.
But things have changed. Monster cores and essences have driven up the prices of things. For an eighteen-year-old boy like Jael, the only way out is to fully Awaken; even a weak Codex would allow him to hunt low-rank monsters for money.
But good life is not the only thing that's driving him. Jael feels it deep in his bones, like an old ache. The need to climb the Dungeon Tower. And maybe he wanted to know the answers to what happened that night when his grandmother and father, his family, both died when a dungeon opened and broke into their house.
Why was he the only one who survived, and what is the number that was written in blood on his skin?
Jael thought of all this as his anger mounted. He's not a person who gives in to anger easily, and he usually avoids confrontation. But like a pressure bottle, everything he has been keeping in just boiled over. "You bastard! It's your fault!" He swung his sword with all his strength.
And both Jael and Mike were surprised as they sliced a line on Mike's cheek, drawing blood.
Mike saw it coming, but he was simply too surprised to react. Did this little shit just try to kill me?
An aura, suffocating and heavy descended on them, a crushing weight that sent their senses screaming. They all fell to their knees in shock and surprise. Danger! Danger! Their instincts told them.
The undead venomous serpent rose, power boiled from it in pulsing greenish black. It shuddered as something moved from inside it, like a butterfly coming out of its cocoon. A horror exploded outward.
It was twice the size of the venomous serpent, its body a mass of squirming brown fresh. It has no head because where the head should be was only open mouth with fangs.
The monster's blood-curdling roar was followed by a smell of rot. Two skeletal hands, white as chalk and tipped with sharp claws, rose from its sides. With a swipe, almost like a casual swat of an insect, and a horrible crunch, half of the body of the healer was cut away from the chest up.
Blood sprayed on Jael where he sat, looking at the horror that stood in front of him. His sense was out, and he was simply looking like a man whose will had broken, but his mind was working.
'Stand up! Hide! You fool! Are you going to sit there like a loyal food for the monster?! Raise yourself or you die!" Jael thought of all he wanted. To climb the Dungeon Tower and reach the top.
To look for answers and make a name for himself.
Jael wanted to live.
The monster moved forward and he drove out of the way just in time. Maybe it was because he was simply too weak but the monster ignored his stumbling run.
He heard a scream, it belonged to the swordman, and then a sharp, meatty crack like the crushing of watermelon and then silence.
Jael looked back just in time to see Mike drove out of the dungeon, leaving his axe behind, shouting down the tunnel.