Chapter 33 Reality Of The Situation
Northern's eyes shot open, but to his surprise, there was no noticeable difference between having them open or closed.
At some point, while enduring the numbing pain of being trampled on and the stench of the monsters that piled upon him, everything became distant.
Somehow, he managed to sleep through it all.
Now awake and reflecting on the situation, he wondered:
'How could anyone sleep in such a dire situation? Or maybe I was just tired.'
He excused himself and shifted his attention to his surroundings.
Breathing slowly and silently, he listened for the faintest sounds that could indicate if the monsters were still engaged in battle.
It would be a shame to have endured so much only to die now, so he waited cautiously, aware that the monsters could either be finishing their fight or looting the spoils of war.
He had to be extremely careful, paying close attention to every detail. He remained motionless for several minutes, confirming that there was not a single sound before finally rising.
Northern fought his way through the pile of bodies and emerged, standing in the center of the fresh battlefield.
The ground was adorned with crimson blood, and bodies were strewn about haphazardly.
The sight made him nauseous. He covered his mouth and nose with his hand to ward off the pungent smell of blood, feeling his heart squirm.
No sane person could endure such a sight without being affected.
The monsters' viscera were gruesomely exposed, their limbs twisted and contorted. Northern could only imagine the pain they must have felt.
With a pale face, he shook his head and stooped down, picking up a weapon from one of the fallen monsters.
It resembled a scimitar, with a crude curve that seemed eager to rend flesh.
He tightened his grip around the handle, feeling its unfamiliar weight. It was a departure from the thin rod of an axe he had been wielding for the past few nights.
"Well, I'm sure I will eventually get used to it... not that I can even use it," he muttered to himself.
His gaze shifted to the pile of corpses he had just emerged from.
After taking a couple of seconds to collect himself, he began to dissect the monsters, skillfully extracting their organs and soul cores.
Harvesting organs and monster cores was something he excelled at.
When he used to hunt with his father, they would gather these parts to sell, and sometimes Shin would give the cores to children in the town who were going through their first awakening, in hopes of increasing their chances of a second awakening.
The first awakening marked the formation of their soul core and the awakening of their talent.
The more soul essence they absorbed, the more saturated their own soul core would become. This played a crucial role when the walking came.
By filling their soul cores, they would become physically stronger, even without having names or attributes. It provided them with a larger energy pool to utilize their talent abilities.
However, they needed to become drifters to refine their soul cores further and draw out a richer soul essence.
The difference between the soul essence of walkers and that of drifters, was that for walkers it served as a mere pool for their abilities to be used, while drifters can use it broadly; spirit release, application in martial arts or spell arts, activation of item skills.
Everything about walkers was unrefined.
Thanks to Shin's unwavering assistance, the villagers had grown to love his family and care for them deeply. Even the town chief turned to Shin when faced with a crisis.
Adding to that, his son's flawlessly handsome appearance made is entire family known throughout the entire town, which sometimes bothered Northern.
Thinking about it now, it stirred up some emotions within him. He held back the tears threatening to escape and focused on the task at hand, retrieving the soul cores.
His eyes widened as he retrieved them.
"Two soul cores? That's a savage rank," Northern gasped in surprise.
With a suspicious frown on his face, he moved on to the next monster and began cutting it open.
To his surprise, he found two soul cores again. This pattern continued with each monster he examined—each one had at least two soul cores.
Does this mean that both the forces from the Kingdom of Red Mine and their foes consist entirely of savage rank monsters?
The realization struck him, and lines of stress formed beneath his eyes.
The tiers of rifts corresponded to the rank and danger level of the monsters within them:
Tier I rifts – fiends, savage
Teir II – fiends, savages, beast
Tier III – savages, beasts, hellion
Tier IV – savages, beasts, hellions, maelstrom
Tier V – beasts, hellions, maelstrom, destroyer
Tier VI – beasts, hellions, maelstroms, destroyers, behemoth
Tier VII – hellions, maelstroms, destroyers, behemoths, belial
Tier VIII – maelstroms, destroyers, behemoths, belials, leviathan
Tier IX – destroyers, behemoths, belials, leviathans, titan
Tier X – behemoths, belials, leviathans, titans, infernal
Of course, what made these rifts truly dangerous were the danger level of monsters that resided within them.
While it was impossible for monsters to change their rank, even through consuming cores of their kind, stronger or weaker, the best outcome was for them to reach the peak potential of their respective ranks.
Once that threshold was surpassed, the monsters would be classified into different danger levels.
These danger levels served as indicators of a monster's unpredictability, making the rifts highly volatile and extremely perilous.
Although Northern had not personally experienced these dangers firsthand, he was well acquainted with them through his extensive reading and his father's experience.
Since arriving on the dark continent, he had encountered monsters with two cores, while those with a single core were a rare sight.
When he contemplated the strength of these monsters in comparison to the Night Terror, the creature that triggered the start of his hell, he couldn't help but imagine the Night Terror's ability to decapitate them effortlessly in a single swing.
It was no coincidence; the Night Terror was indeed that formidable, given its position as the army's commander.
Northern was certain that the Night Terror possessed the exact level of power he envisioned.
It was likely a disaster-level hellion, or perhaps even worse, a calamity level. The disparity between it and the monster guarding his prison did not seem too significant.
"That one is most likely a hellion rank as well, but with a lower danger level," Northern speculated.
However, there was no definitive way to ascertain this without a scout.
Scouts were skilled drifters who possessed the talent abilities that allowed them to discern a monster's rank by knowing the number of soul cores it possessed without needing to dissect its abdomen.
They were also responsible for determining the tiers of the rifts. Their missions involved venturing into the rifts to map them out, identifying the ranks and danger levels of the monsters within, documenting their locations, group dynamics, and the rift guardian.
Typically, the guardian held a rank one level higher than the other monsters and there was only one guardian per rift.
'I should probably acquire a talent that would enable me to determine such details in the future,' Northern mused.
He rose to his feet, revealing two more soul cores.
His eyes narrowed with a hint of trepidation.
"Am I inside a tier three rift?"
It was an unsettling realization, for second awakening, tier one rifts was the norm. There had never been a situation where a walker walked into a tier three rift.
Of course, he knew he wasn't 'walking' right now. He didn't form a soul core, his first awakening failed. Without a first awakening there was no reason for there to be a second, hence there was not subjected to walking even though his soul rank was walker.
He knew little of the circumstances, but the act of being teleported was evidence enough that something was fishy somewhere.
He had been intentionally brought to this place, in all likelihood.
Northern sighed.
"What good does pondering do? Let's focus on surviving for now."
He glanced at the pile of soul cores he had gathered, then lifted his head to survey the ghastly scene of corpses strewn across the macabre field.
His grip tightened on the scimitar's hilt as he proceeded to cut up the next monster.