POV: The Danis Brothers

  Ron, the elder, watched as the woman who had given them life—his mother—dissolved into a cloud of golden star-dust. Beside him, his younger brother Don stood frozen, his small frame trembling so hard his teeth rattled.

  They wanted to scream. The air in their lungs felt like lead, but as they opened their mouths, no sound came out. Their voices were gone, buried under the crushing weight of what they had just seen. Both of them collapsed into the mud.

  Don began to draw a ragged breath, a sob building in his chest that would surely alert the monsters. Ron reacted instantly. He lunged forward, pulling Don into a tight, desperate hug and clamping a muddy hand over the boy’s mouth. He muffled the cries against his own chest, his heart hammering like a trapped bird. Ron didn't just do it to hide from the giants; he did it because his own composure was threadbare. If he heard his brother cry, he knew he would lose the last of his strength too.

  Then, the light changed.

  The golden particles of their fallen kin didn't drift away. They began to swirl, gathering at a single point in the center of the clearing. A flickering formation etched itself into the dirt beneath the glow. The light intensified, condensing with a hum that made Ron’s ears pop, until a figure began to take shape.

  When the glow died down, a young boy stood there.

  Ron looked at the child, who seemed barely older than Don, and felt the last spark of hope drain out of him. His eyes went dull. He didn't care about his own life anymore, but he had to save his brother.

  There’s no time, Ron thought, his gaze suddenly sharpening. I have to give Don a chance.

  He braced himself to grab Don and run, but what he saw next stopped his heart. The lead Hog—the demi-human who had slaughtered his entire clan with ease—was suddenly kicked through the air like a rocket. The giant hit a tree with a sickening crunch and slumped into the mud. He didn't get up.

  Ron’s eyes couldn't even process the shock. The commander was dead.

  He turned his head slowly. The three remaining War Hogs were standing in a daze, their tusks quivering.

  A chance. This is it. Fury, hot and jagged, burned through Ron’s grief. He shoved Don toward a thicket. "Don, go and hide. Don’t come out until I call you," he hissed. He didn't wait for an answer. He snatched up a discarded sword from the dirt and sprinted toward the nearest Hog, who was stepping forward to check on his fallen leader.

  POV: Azuma

  Azuma watched the last of Shizu’s light fade, his hand still outstretched as if he could catch the remaining particles. He had used his divine magic to anchor himself, but as he did, his vision blinked.

  Floating in the air, right in front of his face, words began to form in a cold, blue light.

  [Name: ????]

  [Fragment of soul consumed. Properties identified and isolated.]

  What in the... Azuma recoiled, but the words followed his movement. They stayed fixed in his field of vision, hovering just out of reach. He turned his head, but the text stayed centered. It was a sensation he couldn't describe—as if the world itself had been labeled.

  "What is this?" he whispered to the empty air.

  “Information of anything you consume will be reflected in this mindscape, my Lord.”

  Azuma stiffened, his hand flying to the hilt of his blade. He realized too late that he’d used all his torus disks in the previous fight. He clicked his tongue in frustration and scanned the trees. "Who are you?"

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  “My name is... Abi...” The voice sounded different now—detached, echoing as if from the bottom of a deep well. “You need... to...” The voice flickered and died out abruptly.

  "I need what?" Azuma demanded. No answer came.

  The blue words started to fade, and that’s when he saw the brown-furred man sprint forward. Ron didn't hesitate; he lunged with the stolen blade, driving the steel deep into the chest of the dazed Hog checking the commander. The blade pierced the creature's heart with a wet thud.

  Great, Azuma thought, watching the giant slump. Only two more. I can manage that.

  But his thought suddenly stopped dead.

  From the shadows of the dense trees, another figure erupted. It was a hulking, seven-foot beast—a War Hog, a grotesque mix of a bristled, tusked biped predator. Huge yellowed tusks jutted upward from its lower jaw, framing a snout that dripped with rage. It had a massive, swollen belly, but it wasn't soft; a heavy shield was embedded directly into the flesh of its stomach like a natural breastplate.

  The beast roared, its small eyes fixed on Ron. It swung a colossal black axe, rushing down with enough force to split the earth.

  He’s going to get himself killed, Azuma realized. The beast was closing the distance faster than the fur-man could react.

  Azuma sprinted. The mud was slick, and his legs felt heavy. I won’t make it.

  He gritted his teeth, the strain of using divine mana again sending a fresh wave of pain through his skull. His silver hair began to glow with a soft, metallic light, and his eyes burned white-hot.

  "Null."

  The Hog's axe was inches from the brown-furred man when the creature suddenly froze. Its mana was snuffed out instantly, its legs giving way as it collapsed into the dirt, unable to even lift its head.

  POV: War Hogs

  The Hog in the rear was too terrified to move. He had watched his commander get taken out in a heartbeat, and now another comrade had been cut down by the fur-man’s blade while the third... the third had simply fallen.

  He had heard the child speak a word, but it didn't sound like any language he knew. It felt wrong to hear it. He rushed forward, kicking the brown-furred man away to get to his brother, who was panting heavily on the ground, his eyes bulging in his sockets.

  "Brother, this is bad... this child is too strong. We have to go!"

  The brother on the ground looked at the child approaching with those cold, silver eyes. "No... go..." he wheezed.

  "What? I can't leave you!"

  "He is dangerous... I can't move. My life... it's draining. Go! Tell them!"

  The fallen Hog's head rolled to the side as he passed out. The last standing warrior gritted his teeth, his tusks bared in a snarl of pure fear. He didn't hesitate any longer. He ran and melted into the dense shadows of the rainforest.

  Azuma's Perspective

  Azuma slowed his pace, watching the shadows where the Hogs had disappeared. Should I chase? No. In this state, it’s an advantage to let them run.

  He turned toward the fur-men. Both were staring at him as if he were a ghost. As he approached, they dropped to their knees, their bodies going stiff with reverence.

  "Are you guys injured?" Azuma asked, his voice sounding thin to his own ears.

  "No, Your Majesty," they replied in unison, though Ron’s voice was thick with blood.

  They were a mess—covered in jagged cuts and slick with gore. Azuma’s marrow ached. He didn't have enough Maya left for a full recovery spell. He looked at the bodies of the fallen Hogs and sighed.

  Consume? The thought wasn't even his own; it felt like a suggestion whispered from the back of his mind. A white light began to pool in his palm. He looked at the two brothers prostrate in the mud. "Don't look."

  They buried their faces in the dirt.

  Azuma turned. He pointed his hand, and streaks of white light shot toward the dead bodies. The light didn't just cover them; it seemed to eat them. The armored forms dissolved into pure energy, gathering in Azuma’s hand like a miniature sun.

  He grimaced, the taste of ozone and something metallic coating his tongue. I hate doing this. It feels like I'm eating them.

  Before he could even process the disgust, the blue screen flickered back to life.

  [Consumed: 3 War Hogs]

  [Disintegrating bodies... Segregating materials...]

  [Translating to basic items... Health Potions Generated]

  Azuma blinked hard, wiping his eyes with his hands, but the screen remained. What is happening to me? This had never happened before, even when he using the divine spell on the Royal Knights.

  He was shocked, but strangely, he wasn't afraid. This power felt like a tool he was meant to use. He willed the energy to shift, and a small glass vial filled with glowing liquid materialized in his hand. He looked at it for a moment, then tossed it to the brown-furred man.

  "Drink it," Azuma commanded. He sat down on a mossy log, his legs finally giving out. As the potion worked its magic, knitting their wounds in seconds, Azuma looked back toward the direction of Oasis. His eyes were hard, the silver light still dancing in the depths of his pupils.

  "Get ready," he said. "We are leaving this place."