Two days before the attack on Elizabeth's group.
Samael woke up once again in his male form.
His body was intact.
His mind was not.
The shock from the previous day still reverberated in his head—heavy, relentless, like an echo that refused to fade. He remained lying there for a while, staring at the gray sky above the beach, feeling the emptiness quietly expand inside his chest.
"Hey, Terror-chan…" he murmured. "I guess it's okay to run away from problems when they're too heavy, right?"
No answer.
The silence was absolute.
Samael let out a weak, humorless laugh.
"I've always had this awful habit…" he continued, speaking more to himself than to the pile of bones. "Running from problems by burying myself in something. Anything. As long as I didn't have time to think."
He closed his eyes for a moment.
"It's fine if I do that again… right?"
The silence remained.
Samael stretched slowly and sat up, rubbing his face. He tried to push the images away, but they stubbornly returned. The more he tried to ignore them, the clearer they became.
If he continued like this, he knew it.
He wouldn't be able to stop thinking.
And thinking, in that place, was dangerous.
Very dangerous.
That was when he made a decision.
Simple.
Raw.
He stood up.
From that moment on, he would hunt.
From the instant he woke up…
Until the moment he collapsed from exhaustion into sleep.
No pauses.
No rest.
No room for thoughts.
If he was going to die on that island—and he knew that possibility was real—then the reason no longer mattered.
The motive didn't matter.
What mattered was not stopping.
Because the moment he stopped…
He would have to face what he had seen.
And Samael wasn't ready for that yet.
He would hunt.
But he needed more weapons.
The spear and the sword weren't enough.
He wanted a bow.Arrows.Daggers.Rope.
[Soul Core: 0/500]
His Core was far from full, and he knew it: unlike Sunny and Nephis, even if he completed it, he wouldn't gain anything besides more Essence.
He took the two Soul Fragments from the previous night and absorbed them.
[Soul Core: 4/500]
"I'm still far away…" he murmured. "But I can feel it. Even if just a little… I have more Essence."
After a few seconds of hesitation, Samael picked up another piece of Terror-chan's bone.
"I'm sorry…" he whispered.
He activated his Aspect.
Essence was drained almost instantly—dry, violent—but unlike last time, a tiny remnant remained.
Then, something happened.
[You have gained a Memory]
Name: Bow of DespairRank: AwakenedTier: 2
Description:A Memory born when all hope of an honest trickster was crushed, created to help him flee from reality.
Enchantments:[Essence Arrow][Power Shot]
Essence Arrow:This bow can generate arrows formed purely of Essence, with piercing power equivalent to an Awakened arrow.
Power Shot:Any arrow fired from this bow possesses greater force than ordinary arrows.
Samael remained silent, holding the bow.
The wood was cold.
Heavy.
And strangely comfortable in his hands.
One Day of Samael Running from Reality
Samael entered the forest.
His stealth was far greater than it had been in the past, but that didn't reassure him. The silence inside was deeply unsettling—dense, unnatural. Any sensible person would have turned back.
He ignored it.
His recklessness had reached another level.
After a few minutes moving between the trees, he found his first victim.
A Man-Eating Serpent.
He had already hunted two of them before.
The creature rested in a nest of leaves, motionless, camouflaged among roots and shadows. Samael climbed a nearby tree, keeping his distance, and observed in silence.
His instincts screamed danger.
His body trembled slightly.
He studied the serpent carefully.
No wounds.
Unharmed.
Samael didn't attack.
He climbed down and began circling the area, moving cautiously. It didn't take long to find three more serpents—each in the same condition.
Four in total.
Instead of retreating, a thought surfaced.
He no longer cared about the danger.
Samael began to form a plan.
A bold plan.
A stupid one.
He wanted to kill all four.
Attack one.Run.Attack another.Repeat.
One mistake would mean death.
But it didn't make him hesitate.
He repositioned himself, climbing another tree near one of the serpents, from where he could keep two others within his field of vision.
Then, he summoned the bow.
The Bow of Despair appeared in his hands, cold and heavy. He felt it clearly: his Essence was enough for only a single arrow.
Samael focused.
An Essence arrow slowly formed on the string, vibrating with unstable energy. He took a deep breath, adjusted his stance, and aimed at the farthest serpent.
He flexed his muscles.
Pulled the string.
More.
A little more.
His arms burned.
His muscles felt as though they were about to tear under the strain. Veins bulged, and his teeth clenched as he forced the bow to its limit.
The world seemed to shrink.
There was only him.
The bow.
And the target.
Samael released the string.
The arrow tore through the air at terrifying speed.
BOOM.
The impact echoed through the forest.
The arrow struck the serpent—not enough to kill it, but enough to grievously wound it. A moment later, the creature's shrill scream tore through the silence.
"HIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSS—!"
At the same instant, Samael activated his stealth, remaining perfectly still atop the tree.
The serpent charged furiously toward where the shot had come from.
But it found no one there.
Only another of its own kind.
Confused. Wounded. Consumed by rage.
With no other visible target, it attacked the other serpent savagely.
As the two engaged in a wild battle below, Samael shifted his gaze to the next one.
He didn't have enough Essence for another arrow.
Without hesitation, he dismissed the Bow of Despair. The Essence slowly returned to his body—minimal, but sufficient.
In the next instant, he summoned the Ascended Spear.
The weapon appeared in his hands.
Samael extended his arm to the limit, adjusted the angle, and hurled the spear with all his strength.
The distance was too great to cause real damage.
But it didn't need to.
The spear struck the body of the sleeping serpent.
The impact was enough.
The creature awoke in fury, rearing up and hissing violently. Its eyes scanned in every direction—until they locked onto the clash between its kin.
Without hesitation, it lunged into the fight.
Samael's suicidal plan was working.
The serpents poured their hatred onto one another, injuring and exhausting themselves.
Now…
Only one final actor was missing to complete the grotesque play.
Samael leapt from tree to tree, avoiding the rampant conflict unfolding below.
Three serpents attacked one another in blind fury—a tangle of scales, fangs, and hatred. The noise was deafening, but he stayed above them, silent, almost ethereal.
Then he went after the last actor.
The true beginning of his grotesque performance.
As he jumped between branches, Samael began to laugh.
A low laugh.
Uncontrolled.
Everything felt… lighter.
More fun.
When it no longer mattered whether he lived or died.
Or worse—when there was no difference between the two.
He found the fourth serpent still asleep.
There were many of those creatures in the area. Perhaps that was why they remained so close to one another.
What a convenient irony.
Samael kept as much distance as possible while keeping the creature in sight. He dismissed the Ascended Spear—and summoned it again, feeling the familiar weight form in his hand.
He raised his arm.
Adjusted the angle.
And threw.
The spear cut through the air and struck the serpent's body.
It didn't cause a serious wound.
But it was enough.
The creature woke in rage, rearing up and hissing violently. Its reptilian eyes darted frantically, searching for the attacker.
Then they landed on him.
"Hi," Samael said, giving a small wave.
His smile was crooked.
Wrong.
"Didn't want to leave you out of the party," he continued, almost cheerfully. "So I came to get you personally. You must be happy to see me."
The serpent answered with a piercing hiss and charged.
Samael turned and ran.
He leapt to the nearest tree, then another, and another, moving with desperate precision. The serpent pursued him, destroying everything in its path.
He guided the creature.
Straight into the center of the chaos.
When they arrived, the other three serpents were still fighting.
Two would have ended the battle long ago.
But three had prolonged it.
Now, with the fourth entering the fray…
The newly arrived serpent tried to cross the battlefield to reach Samael.
It failed.
It was struck by the others.
Wounded.
Enraged.
And then, the chaos was complete.
Four serpents.
Four sources of hatred.
A circular massacre.
Scales tearing scales.
Fangs piercing flesh.
The entire forest seemed to tremble.
From atop a tree, Samael watched.
Breathing fast.
Eyes shining.
"I think our party's still a bit small…" he murmured, tilting his head. "How about we liven things up a little more?"
He no longer cared.
Not about the pain.
Not about the danger.
Not about his own life.
At that moment, Samael wasn't hunting to survive.
He was hunting…
So he wouldn't feel.