I moved before doubt could grab me by the throat.

  The branch slid forward in a sharp, precise thrust, the tip driving straight toward the exposed gap between his collar and helmet. It pierced the thin opening at the side of his neck. I expected resistance. I expected the wood to splinter or snap.

  It did neither.

  The Enchanted Branch of Nature sank in with a dull, sickening firmness. Not like brittle timber. Not like dead wood. It felt dense, reinforced by something unseen, something ancient and quietly malicious.

  His eyes widened a fraction too late.

  “Heh,” he scoffed, lips curling as if I had just insulted him instead of stabbed him. “Trying to rob me, kid? Wrong guy, buddy.”

  He ripped himself backward, the branch scraping against the edge of his armor and tearing loose from his neck. The wound was not deep enough. His leather and metal plating had absorbed most of the force, but a thin ribbon of blood began to snake down his collar.

  His hand flashed to his waist.

  Steel sang.

  A silver sword cleared its sheath in one smooth motion, catching the sunlight so brightly it burned my vision for a split second. He lunged.

  The ground trembled under the force of his charge. His boots hammered against the stone, his blade cutting a lethal arc through the air. For a massive man, he moved disturbingly fast. The rage in his eyes was no longer masked by false charm. It was feral now.

  “Reanimate!”

  The word tore out of my throat with desperate clarity.

  The air beside me warped violently, bending like heat over a furnace. A towering shape materialized in a violent burst of green light and shadow.

  The elf brute emerged.

  He was colossal. Muscles stacked upon muscles, veins thick as ropes pulsing beneath pale skin. His height dwarfed the man by nearly a meter. His weight must have exceeded his by at least a hundred pounds. His presence alone crushed the air, as if gravity had intensified around him.

  The brute stepped forward.

  No hesitation.

  No mercy.

  His massive arm swung in a brutal horizontal ram that caught the charging man square in the chest. The impact exploded outward with a crack like a felled tree snapping in half. Armor dented inward. Breath burst from the man’s lungs in a ragged gasp.

  Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Before gravity could reclaim him, the brute’s other fist shot upward in a devastating uppercut.

  The man left the ground.

  Two meters tall and built like a fortress, yet he was launched into the air like a ragdoll. His sword spun uselessly from his grip, clattering against stone somewhere out of sight.

  “What the fuck was that?” he muttered hoarsely as he crashed onto his back. The stone floor absorbed his fall with a dull, bone rattling thud.

  He tried to inhale. Tried to scream.

  I did not give him the chance.

  I stepped in.

  The world narrowed again. No noise. No sun. No witnesses.

  Just the target.

  I drove the branch downward.

  The tip plunged into his right eye socket.

  There was resistance for half a second. Then it gave way.

  A wet, nauseating sound followed. His other eye twitched in shock. I did not stop.

  The branch pushed deeper, rupturing the fragile structure within. The second socket followed as I twisted the weapon slightly. There was a soft pop, a burst of pressure releasing all at once. Something warm and viscous splattered outward. Tiny fragments struck my cheek and stained my shirt.

  His body convulsed violently once.

  Then again.

  Then it went still.

  Silence reclaimed the courtyard.

  My breathing was steady.

  The brute loomed behind me, unmoving, awaiting command.

  I withdrew the branch slowly. It slid free with a sick suction sound. Despite everything, the wood remained intact. No cracks. No splinters. The faint green veins along its surface glowed softly, as if satisfied.

  I exhaled.

  “Anyways.”

  I crouched beside the corpse and pulled the rucksack free. Three gold coins. Several silver coins. A few miscellaneous dungeon trinkets. Nothing extraordinary. Just enough.

  I did not linger.

  I ran.

  The city swallowed me quickly, narrow streets and crowded markets devouring the scene behind me. The noise of merchants and civilians erased the memory of what had just happened.

  A translucent blue panel shimmered into existence once more.

  [Do you want to consume Rank B: Jip-chak’s soul?]

  Jip-chak.

  Greedy.

  Fitting.

  “Sure.”

  The word left my mouth calmly.

  The panel dissolved into particles of light that streamed toward me. A cold sensation pierced through my chest, spreading outward like icy veins wrapping around my ribs. It was not painful. It was invasive. Like something foreign weaving itself into the fabric of my being.

  For a brief moment, I felt it.

  His greed.

  His hunger.

  His selfish calculations.

  Then it was gone. Basically absorbed.

  I adjusted the strap of the rucksack over my shoulder and kept walking through the crowd as if nothing had occurred.

  I needed better clothes. Something more clean and less conspicuous. Blood stained fabric attracts attention, and attention is inconvenient obviously. The royal guards might think I’m some crazy maniac and arrest me.

  I already knew what I was going to do next.

  And I would not look like a street rat when I did it.

  Is it wrong to kill to survive in this accursed world?

  Follow Xavier's journey. Discover what it means to survive… or to live.

  ?? Join the Community!

  I’ve created a (somewhat decent) Discord channel for the novels! Come hang out, discuss, and get updates:

  https://discord.gg/yJ9PJ7XSYn