Chapter 76: Becoming a Beast Tamer?
William slowly walked toward the river. He needed water to drink, and a place to think about what to do next. But things didn't always go his way. He crouched near the water and drank. At first, nothing happened, and he felt safe, but then, a hand burst from the water and grabbed his arm.
"What the fuck?"
Startled by the sudden appearance of the hand, William used all his strength to break free. The hand had a powerful grip, and his forearm hurt, but William didn't give up. He drew his sword with his other hand and slashed at the mysterious hand. It worked.
The hand let go, and William was finally free. But what was that hand? He couldn't understand what had tried to pull him into the water.
"Do you know what monster that could be?" William asked the demonic sword.
"No idea, but it can't be good. Stay away from the water for now," the sword advised.
"You don't need to tell me that."
William wasn't stupid, so he backed away and stayed far from the river.
But that encounter gave him some clues about his location. William knew that hands like that pulling people into the river weren't common, at least not in areas frequented by humans. If it were common, he would have heard rumors about it, but he never had.
Therefore, the only explanation was that he was in an unexplored area, far from civilization. That made the most sense to him. William walked through the forest once again, finding a tall tree to climb to get a better view of the area.
He did so with ease, thanks to his enhanced physical abilities, and reached the top quickly. He searched the surrounding area, but there was nothing but trees, rivers, and mountains. That wasn't good.
"We have a few options to get out of here," the demonic sword said, its voice a low growl that resonated within William's mind. "We can try to find someone, which is unlikely, or we can tame a flying beast and leave this place."
William pondered the options, the weight of their predicament settling upon him. Finding someone in this desolate wasteland was a long shot.
He had surveyed the area multiple times, his senses amplified by his magic, and there was no sign of civilization, no wisp of smoke, no distant call of human activity. Taming a flying beast seemed like their only viable option, but doubts gnawed at him.
"How can we even find a beast that's not too powerful to tame?" he mused aloud, his voice barely a whisper in the vast emptiness. "And even if we do, I'm not a beast tamer. I wouldn't know where to begin."
The demonic sword, its obsidian blade humming with a faint energy, offered a solution. "I can help you tame a beast, but it won't be permanent."
"How?" William asked, a flicker of hope igniting within him.
"You can use the demonic energy stored within your body," the sword explained. "It will allow you to temporarily dominate the beast, turning it into your demonic mount. But it won't last forever. Your reserves of demonic energy are...limited."
"I can do that?" William exclaimed, surprised by the revelation.
The demonic sword let out a dry, rasping chuckle. "You can do many things, my friend. You just haven't discovered them all yet."
With a plan in place, William turned his attention to the immediate challenges. Survival was paramount.
He wouldn't be able to tame a flying beast if he succumbed to the harsh realities of this desolate land. Shelter, fire, and food were his priorities. Water, thankfully, was readily available from the nearby river, though the chilling memory of the hand made him wary of approaching its banks.
He ventured into the forest, his senses alert, searching for a suitable shelter. A cave, nestled within the base of a rocky outcrop, soon presented itself. Dark, damp, and undeniably creepy, it was far from ideal, but it would suffice.
Sword drawn, William cautiously entered, prepared to fight for his sanctuary. He wasn't disappointed. A grotesque creature, a quadrupedal zombie with a grotesquely twisted neck, lunged from the shadows, its decaying limbs reaching for him. William, his heart pounding, activated his system's analysis function.
[Zombie]
[Estimated Level: 9]
A wave of relief washed over him. The creature was weak, its level far below his own. He sidestepped the clumsy attack, his sword flashing through the air, severing the zombie's head with a sickening crunch. He waited, wary of any further movement, but the creature remained still.
He pressed deeper into the cave, encountering and dispatching several more zombies. But a nagging question lingered in his mind.
"Why are there zombies here?" he muttered to himself, his voice echoing in the cavernous space. "And that hand... These aren't the typical creatures one would find in a normal forest."
A sense of unease settled over him. This place was different, touched by a darkness that went beyond the natural dangers of the wilderness.
He shared his concerns with the demonic sword, hoping for an explanation.
"This is...unusual," the sword admitted, its voice a low growl. "The presence of undead creatures, especially in such numbers, suggests a powerful necromantic influence. Perhaps a Lich, or a skilled necromancer, resides nearby." Explore stories at empire
"A Lich or a necromancer?" William echoed, his brow furrowing. "Aren't those incredibly powerful?"
"Indeed," the sword confirmed. "You'll need to be cautious. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must return to my slumber to conserve energy for our taming endeavor. Do not disturb me unless absolutely necessary."
With that, the sword fell silent, its consciousness receding into the depths of the obsidian blade. William understood. Taming a beast for him would require a significant expenditure of the sword's power. He would have to face the challenges of this desolate land alone, at least for now.
He cleared the cave of the remaining zombie debris, tossing the decaying limbs outside, reclaiming the space as his own. He gathered fallen branches and dry moss, building a small fire near the cave entrance. The flickering flames offered a welcome warmth against the biting cold, casting dancing shadows on the cave walls.
As night fell, the weather took a turn for the worse. Snow piled up outside, the wind howling through the trees.
"A snowstorm," William muttered, watching the swirling flakes through the cave entrance.
He retreated deeper into the cave, seeking shelter from the blizzard. Hunger gnawed at his stomach, but venturing out in this weather was out of the question. He would have to endure, to wait for the storm to pass and hope for better conditions come morning. He curled up near the fire, its warmth a small comfort in the face of the unforgiving wilderness.
But something happened during the night.
William's eyes snapped open, his senses alert. A guttural growl, low and menacing, echoed through the cave. He scrambled to his feet, his hand instinctively reaching for his sword. He moved with a practiced silence, slipping behind a large boulder that offered a sliver of concealment. He peered around the edge, his heart pounding in his chest.
Two figures, cloaked in dark robes, stood near the remnants of his campfire. Their faces were obscured by deep hoods, their voices hushed whispers that barely carried in the wind.
"Do you think he's still here?" the man's voice rasped, a chilling sound that sent shivers down William's spine.
"Judging by the state of this...campsite," the woman replied, her voice equally unsettling, "I doubt it. Perhaps he heard us approaching and fled."
"Perhaps," the man conceded. "We'll send out scouts in the morning. If he's still in the area, we'll find him."
With a final, chilling glance around the cave, they vanished into the swirling snow, their presence leaving a lingering sense of dread. William remained hidden, his body tense, his mind racing. Who were these people? What were they searching for? And why did they seek him?