He screamed, facing the sky as sorrow invited anger, "Ahhhhhh!", winds howled as a blue shimmer coated him all over. With eyes red from tears, Peter looked at the half-eaten human limbs scattered everywhere. Palms slammed into the ground, clenching the soil. He gritted his teeth when he failed to tell which limb belonged to whom.
Just then, on the field of death, Peter's eyes found a sword buried halfway into the ground. He stilled. He knew that sword. It was Joseph's sword. He hastily stood up and ran at the sword. Standing before it, Peter extinguished that flicker of hope. His father was dead.
From the kobold remains scattered around the place, it was easy to tell what had happened. He died bravely, fighting to protect what he held dear to his heart. 'Not just him,' Peter corrected himself, 'All of them.'
"I-I'm sorry, Dad. I could- couldn't do anything," Peter said, grabbing the hilt of the sword. Guilt clawed at him.
"I should have been more prepared. I-I am so sorry. I couldn't even protect one person properly. Mom… I even ended up injuring Mom,"
"I'm not a good son. Both of you cherished me so much—," he cried harder. His skills tried to numb his pain, but Peter shut them down. He needed to feel this. He needed to let it all out.
"—and yet all I did in return was distrust you both. I kept lying and lying…hiding my secret," Peter wiped his eyes. "Even today, even to the very last moment, I failed to act. As people fled for their lives, all I did was be afraid. Afraid of what they will do if they find out about me"
"I am a coward, Dad. Your son is a coward," Peter forced a smile on his face, regardless of how ugly it looked. He felt ashamed.
"I may not be a good enough son for you," he said, "but I promise, I-I promise to do better from now on. Don't worry, Dad," The hands holding the hilt shook. "I'll take good care of Mom."
"You can watch us from heaven, if there is one. And if there is… I'm sorry, but you'll have to wait a long time before you can meet Mom again," Peter chuckled, then cried even harder, falling to his knees and hugging the sword.
"I'm going to take her to her parents in Rosefall. You told me once they have a large cathedral of Avaris. There's bound to be someone there who can heal her, right?" Peter spoke, carefully pulling the sword free.
Peter stayed like that for a while, whispering his secrets to the sword. It was only after making peace with the reality that he stood up. It was time for final goodbyes.
Peter spared a glance at the sun, noting that there were still a few hours before it would sink into the western horizon. With a lightened heart, he picked up the shovel he had brought with him.
Moving to an open area nearby, he started to dig. His slowly assimilating stats made the work easier. He worked tirelessly, bleeding his raw emotions into each motion.
Once the grave was large enough, Peter carefully gathered all the human remains he could find from the battlefield. It didn't matter to him anymore which limb belonged to whom — they had all fought together, died together. They would rest together.
When it was done, he filled up the hole. After some searching, he brought a large boulder and put it on the freshly packed earth. Flooding his father's sword with mana, Peter wielded it on the rock to carve out an epitaph.
It read: Here lie the brave, guardians of humanity, who stood as shields against the monsters. Until their final breaths, so others might live.
"Goodbye, Father. And others," Peter whispered, his voice hoarse but steady.
Having nothing more left for him to do, Peter made his way back to the village. It had been hours since he left. He didn't want to keep his mother waiting any longer. They must leave the village in the morning.
….
When Peter reached the village, it was already evening. He decided to cook one of the dead sheep as dinner. When he found Mariah, she was pulling her hair with an anxious expression, eyes swollen from tears. She rushed and hugged him tightly as soon as she spotted him.
"Shhh… It's alright. I am fine. I am here," Peter said, stroking her head. Peter ordered Deathknell to bring the sheep carcass downstairs while he calmed her down. She calmed down, but was unwilling to let him get away from her eyes. Peter's eyes softened at her behaviour.
Bringing her downstairs with him, he made her sit down in front of the kitchen. With Mariah waiting patiently in the back, Peter got to work. His hands moved with expert precision, aided by his newly increased Dexterity stat, as he roasted the legs over a large fire.
Halfway through the process, a ping echoed in Peter's ears. He opened his status to check.
System...
[Congratulations! You have unlocked a new skill: Cooking.
Would you like to accept it?]
[Yes] [No]
Peter shrugged, deciding to just take it. A new skill was added to his status screen at the bottom. Instantly, various ideas flooded his mind on how to improve his cooking.
Following the advice from the skill, Peter cooked the nicely seasoned meat for an appropriate amount of time. When Peter tasted the cooked dinner, at the very least, it didn't taste bad.
Both Mariah and Peter ate their fill, with Peter eating nearly five times more than usual due to the ongoing process of stat assimilation. Once they were done, Peter led his mother to bed, making sure she slept soundly.
Leaving Deathknell in her shadow, who, as a spirit, sustained itself via the mana provided through their bond, Peter made his way to the village square.
Grabbing a shovel, he began digging with the intent to create a large mass grave. Then, with quiet determination, he buried the gathered the remains of the villagers all together.
Some of them were barely acquaintances. Others were close friends — people Peter had lived with during his childhood. Aunt Amelia. Uncle Tom. David. Seeing them all gone weighed heavily on his heart.
If only he knew... If only he had been more prepared...
The guilt threatened to consume him, but Peter understood one thing clearly. The past could not be undone. He spent the whole night saying his final goodbyes to them all.
But when morning came, he rose with a new goal in mind.
…End of Volume 1 => Foundation: Growth