Peeking out through the spaces between the branches, he could see a bespeckled Soul Beast with the body of a lion with the wings and head of an eagle. She was enormous, dwarfing Flint several times over.
Her flight was irregular, like she was injured in one wing. Her talons clutched a large chunk of red meat that the Griffin dropped to the floor as she saw what had become of her children.
She put her talon on the eggs and shook them, one by one. When she arrived at the egg that was in the process of hatching, she roared.
Scouring the nest for any clues, she sniffed the air.
Flint summoned the Frenzied Shard and waited as he eyed her, with him fully hidden in a corner of the large nest. He aimed, then waited until she turned and activated [Lunge].
Essence: 80/100
Darting through the air, he slammed into her and plunged the Shard into her back, giving it several stabs for good measure.
Mama twisted and turned, turning her head to look at him with animosity.
Snapping at him with her beak, Flint managed to stay just out of her reach. Realizing this, she unfolded her wings and took off to the sky, with Flint still on her back.
He jumped off and used [Lunge] to reach the nest, landing neatly on the top of one of its walls.
Essence: 60/100
Only four lunges left…
Fighting her in the air would be suicide, so he took several steps back, navigating the branches on the wall with delicate care.
Mama growled as she charged at him, her talons outstretched. Flint rolled to the side, slashing the Shard against her underside.
But his movements felt and were sluggish, and one of her talons had managed to scrape him on the abdomen, causing a wave of pain to flow across his body.
The Griffin slashed at him with her beak, and Flint narrowly dodged getting his skull caved in. Grabbing onto her injured wing, he pushed the both of them off the nest, causing the two of them to plummet.
She shrieked and twisted rapidly in his grip, but he didn't let go and instead wrapped himself around and climbed onto her back.
The wind assaulted Flint's face as they plummeted to the rocky floor, with Flint gripping onto the struggling Griffin with an intense fervor.
[Skill Initiali–]
Flint dismissed the notification.
They were meters away from nosediving into the ground before he let go of her wing. She flapped her wings and stopped the two of them from crashing into the floor.
Intending to drop him from a high altitude, she rapidly started to gain elevation from the floor. Readying the Frenzied Shard, Flint slit her uninjured wing and jumped off her back.
Using [Lunge] to save himself, he landed on a nearby boulder. All around them was a vivid landscape, with pillars of various heights encompassing the sky and large craters dotting the ground. Not a single plant or lifeform besides them could be seen for miles. Even the massive winged creatures he saw in the distance on the nest were only dots now. Sighing at the lack of cover, he turned his attention back towards the Soul Beast.
Mama tried to take flight again, but with her both her wings fully out of commission all she could do was tumble down to the ground.
Activating [Lunge] to close the distance, he dashed towards her. Miscalculating the range, he slipped and fell to the ground as Flint frantically dodging getting impaled by one of her talons.
He had lost grip of the Shard, and it now tumbled through the air.
Looking at the Griffin standing over him, Flint realized he had lost.
Unless…
Eyeing the dagger that was about to clutter to the ground, time seemed to slow down.
"Lunge."
He had whispered it, but it felt like a scream.
It shouldn't have been possible, but it was — as if it had always been a part of him, an indescribable bond. The shard shot forward, impaling itself into the Griffin's neck. Blood gushed out all over him as a notification popped up.
[You have slain a Low Vessel Griffin]
[Gained Griffin's Pelt]
The Griffin's body fell to the floor besides him, and Flint rested on the floor, soaking in his victory.
He knew it. All that bullshit his granddad spewed about fearing the Soul Realm was an old man's backwards thoughts of a bygone era. Getting up to his feet, Flint had never felt more alive in his life, and that was ironic considering he was half-dead.
Touching his wounds, Flint analyzed the cuts the Griffin had given him. The loss of blood concerned him, but a Hollow probably wouldn't die from something like that.
He did feel a little bit delirious, but it was probably from [Heart of a Hero].
He was about to open his Soul Inscription to check for the item he had gotten when Flint suddenly fell to his knees. A surge of grief washed over him, tears falling out of his eyes.
He curled into a ball, choking on his own sobs.
Flint tried getting up, telling himself these emotions weren't his, but his body wouldn't listen to him.
He lay there vulnerable for a minute, feeling the tears of a mother who had lost everything in one night.
Flint got up after it wore off, the feelings of grief gone. But so was his smile from earlier.
Looking around to confirm that there were no nearby threats, he opened up his Inscription.
Name: Falintin Valerius
Title: None
Rank: Low Hollow
Soul Saturation: 5%
Bloodline: Valerius
Bloodline Link: Limited
Skill: Hell's Spark
Essence: 20/100
Inventory: [Frenzied Shard], [Basic Thyran Outfit], [Griffin's Pelt]
He hesitated, glancing at his new item before opening up the details of his Skill.
Skill: Hell's Spark
Rank: Eternal
Rubbing his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things, Flint's limbs went limp at the rank of his Skill. It wasn't Vessel rank, nor Warden, not Celestial or even Ascendant. He had never heard of anybody with an Eternal Skill, or even of the Eternal rank for that matter.
Description: Intimately linked by blood with he who opposes the tyrant six, you are fated to be the spark that ignites humanity's descent into hell.
Flint stared at the description, his eyes clouded. The tyrant six? He had seen that number somewhere before. But his mind was glued to the last bit. Igniting mankind's descent into hell.
A shudder ran down his spine. For him to be the end of everything and everyone...
Flint's breathing started to quicken. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to calm down. A full minute passed before he opened them again.
Skill Passives: [Ichor], [Destined], [Spark]
[Ichor]
Description: Imbued with the blood of the gods, you are easier to detect.
[Destined]
Description: Struggle all you can, for you are hopelessly drowning in the river of fate.
[Spark]
Description: Your lifeforce is incredibly difficult to stamp out, leaving you barely alive in the most devastating of scenarios.
No wonder he had never heard of an Eternal rank. What a scam. Spark almost offset how terrible the other two passives were. Ichor got his hopes up for a fraction of a second, before he read the disappointing second part. And Destined… fearing another panic attack, he ignored Destined.
Did his Soul Inscription think he was some kind of masochist? All this didn't exactly make him eager to see what his Skill was.
Just as he was about to check his Skill, he felt a burning sensation across his chest.
Looking down on his torso, it was completely covered with blood, with the wounds he had dismissed beginning to bubble and fizz.
Lying back down on the floor, Flint realized something as the Griffin took revenge for her fallen children.
He would die here in this rocky wasteland. His body would become food and sustenance for any passing Soul Beasts as he would fail to fill the position his brother had entrusted to him.
A sudden wave of hysteria swept through him. With every breath being more painful than the last, he laughed.
'Get up.'
The voice reverberated through his skull. It seemed like he had fully lost his sanity.
Blinking, he could make out an upright man wearing a purple cloak with too many golden accessories.
"No."
Spitting at the stranger, he watched as the glob of saliva passed through the man's body, landing on the floor behind him.
What the? Flint peered closer at the man's face — which was half covered with dreadlocks — until he realized the stranger didn't have one. Just a lump of flesh without any features.
"Who are you?" Flint's eyes narrowed.
'Get up.'
Nothing about the man's face changed as Flint heard those two words bounce around in his skull. Then it clicked.
"Valerius. Just let me die." Flint put a hand on his torso, feeling the gruesome wounds. "I'd just die faster if I got up anyways. There's no healer to save me."
Valerius raised an eyebrow. That's if he had an eyebrow. Or an eye. Right now it was just the muscles moving. Valerius waved a hand at Flint and the pain subsided as he felt a feeble amount of strength return to his body.
'I thought my son would've taught you to respect your elders. Get. Up.'
His son? Oh. Granddad. Too many questions needed to be asked here.
Not having the strength to argue with him, Flint slowly brought himself to his knees, his body a shaking mess.
Valerius smiled. That's if he had a mouth. Or eyes. Eyes were part of a smile, right?
"How are you here? Are you dead? What's death like? Where's your face?"
'I'll only answer one.'
Flint pondered over it for a second. "Is Vance alive?"
Valerius turned his face away from him. 'My time here is up.'
"What? Hey!"
Valerius's figure suddenly flickered, then disappeared like he was never there. Bastard.
Wincing from his wounds, he wondered what exactly this accomplished before he heard voices.