In a modest wooden cabin, the flames had already begun to consume the walls and outer roof. Inside, a large man in his forties lay snoring, clutching a bottle of wine, his hat tipped over his face. But a scowl crept across his features as he stirred from slumber.
"What is that awful smell? Damn it, don't tell me Cassie left the cake in the oven again and wandered off."
As soon as he opened his eyes, a small piece of wood dropped onto him.
"What the hell?"
Brushing it aside and rubbing his eyes, the man froze in horror. Smoke filled the room, thick and acrid. A moment later, green flames licked their way into his room, devouring the furniture.
"My God, what's going on? My house is burning!"
His fist flared with a green glow as he punched through the wooden wall of the cabin. He leapt through the opening, landing amidst the flames outside, gasping for breath. His back already ached, so he lay on the ground for a moment, wiping the sweat from his brow and staring at the sky.
"Were there other traitors besides John? Cowards... If they wanted me dead, a little spark won't do. I'll find the bastards and make them pay. Wait... where's Cassie?!"
Geoffrey struggled to his feet, scanning his surroundings. The sight before him made his eyes bulge and his heart nearly stop. The entire farm was cloaked in darkness. Homes were reduced to piles of charred timber. Some animals, still engulfed in green flames, ran aimlessly, howling.
Lowering his gaze, he saw the ground soaked in crimson. Piles of corpses lay everywhere. At the sight, Geoffrey doubled over and vomited.
"Is this a nightmare? Am I in hell?"
It was impossible to comprehend. Friends, neighbors, everyone who once looked to him as their leader—now nothing but disfigured bodies. His face flushed, and tears rolled down his cheeks.
"I'm sorry. I failed you all."
Staggering through the farm, the gruesome state of the corpses continued to horrify him. Entrails spilled from torn bodies, limbs lay severed—they had bled out in agony, denied even a merciful death.
Then he saw her.
A severed head. Cassie.
He collapsed to his knees.
"Cassie... I'm sorry. I should have shared your fate."
He had imagined her dying peacefully in old age, knitting by the fire—not like this. Rage surged through him. Veins bulged on his forehead, his face turned scarlet as he cradled her head.
"I'll kill them. Every last bastard who did this. Even if I have to chase them to the ends of the earth. Even if it's the last thing I do."
"Kill who, you fat pig?"
A powerful slap struck him from behind. The impact was so great he felt like he had been hit by a bull. He collapsed unconscious, unable to even glimpse his attacker.
A tall man stood above him, clad in a silver chestplate and long white silk robes. His face was marked with slashed scars, a single eye visible under his long red hair.
He sighed, placing a hand over his face.
"Looks like Thunder went insane again. Didn't leave anything but this old sack of lard."
Behind him stood three men, each guiding a separate carriage drawn by four feathered horses. One of them spoke.
"Commander Leon, shall we kill him? Or should we track Thunder before he causes another disaster? I'm afraid he's still prowling, looking for survivors to slaughter."
Leon glanced coldly at Geoffrey.
"He's a mid-tier Green Chi Refiner. He'll fetch a good price as a slave. Load him up. As for Thunder... don't bother. Even I can't control him once he snaps. He'll return to camp once he's bored."
---
Far from the farm, hundreds of paces to the north, tall trees rose like blackened bones, their trunks coal-dark, branches bare of leaves. Roy limped through the darkness, soaked in blood, face pale and lips blue from blood loss. He was exhausted, starving—and terrified.
"Damn these branches! They keep cutting me! I can't see a thing in this cursed forest..."
Suddenly, a rustle to his right.
A low growl.
A creature approached slowly. In the suffocating blackness, Roy could only see its two massive yellow eyes, each the size of a clenched fist. His heart froze.
He turned and fled, ignoring the pain in his leg, screaming in desperation. But he didn't make it far. Within seconds, the beast lunged onto his back.
Pinned to the ground, Roy felt like a mountain had fallen on him. He heard his spine creak under the weight. Screaming in agony, he waited for the final blow. But the creature didn't go for his throat.
It slid down to his injured leg and bit.
Its fangs tore through skin, flesh, and bone. Blood splattered. Roy felt his foot crumple in its jaws. The creature was eating him alive.
He screamed, a sound no longer human, choking on his tears and saliva. He was losing consciousness from the pain.
"Damn it! I'm going to die like this? I don't want to die. I'm scared. I HATE death!"
At the edge of oblivion, one emotion remained:
Rage.
Not at the beast—but at death itself.
With the last flicker of energy, Roy pulled a knife from his pocket. He twisted his body and plunged the blade into one of the yellow eyes.
The blade sank into the eye, through the skull, into the brain. The beast went still.
And then collapsed.
But Roy wasn't in better shape. His heartbeat thundered, the pain driving him insane.
"Stay awake. I have to keep moving. I can't pass out."
His spine shattered, Roy began to crawl. Behind him, a trail of blood flowed from his foot and mouth.
"As long as I breathe, I'll treasure every breath. Use it to claw toward one more."
He could feel them now.
Yellow eyes watching from the trees.
But they didn't attack.
"Maybe... maybe they're afraid. Afraid because I killed their friend. Hah... (cough)... smart beasts. If you want to die, come get me. (cough)."
He continued crawling, until the ground beneath him suddenly gave way.
"What the...?!"
He fell into a narrow hole.
"Damn it, I'm stuck."
Roy dangled vertically, his head touching the ground below, his injured leg pointed upward. He couldn't move his arms or legs.
He was trapped.!