Fighting Turned had long become monotonous for Zarek. It had been 18 years since the last time he had done so, but it was ingrained into his very bones. If anything, the rust that remained was being quickly knocked off.
Identify target.
Understand the Type.
Sense the Godsfall Droplet.
Sever it.
Rinse and repeat.
Getting the C Class Scouting Skill was like putting these battles on autopilot for Zarek. He quickly found himself running out of enemies to face, but that only allowed him to circulate [Godsfall Eclipse Resonance] with greater fervor.
With every second that passed beneath the blood moon, he could feel his capacity slowly increasing.
What he was aiming to improve was known as the Godsfall Droplet Capacity. Godsfall Droplets referred to not only the core of inferior Turned but also referred to the blood rain that fell from time to time.
That was because they were one and the same.
The formation of a Godsfall Droplet in a Turned occurred when they were over-capacity. This became their new root, the essence of their being. Their former self died, only to be replaced by this mysterious blood energy that only had one goal in its life…
Evolve.
However, this essence was very useful for that very reason. While cancerous and dangerous, it was also the only chance they had to grow stronger.
Without Godsfall, they couldn't break beyond the limits of humans.
Some at the start had great Godsfall Droplet Capacities. Priya having a limit of three was already exceptional.
Zarek had no way of confirming with 100% certainty, but while exceptional, this was still far from the best.
From his speculations, those with the highest capacities were around five or so. There were even rumors of someone who could withstand seven at the very start.
As for Zarek, his capacity had started at five in the first life. It was the only reason he even survived past the initial stage.
But with every life, he lost more and more of his talent until in his last life, he could feel that he couldn't withstand even a single droplet without becoming a Turned.
Zarek's forward momentum came to a sharp halt, the swiping claw of a lumbering, ape-like Turned just barely missing his nose.
It wasn't a real ape, but was instead some vaguely humanoid creature with a long face and arms a greater length than its legs. These sorts of mutations happened in all Turned at some point.
In another three months or so, the typical zombified, rotting flesh appearance would disappear, replaced by these grotesque creatures that looked straight out of a horror film. Well, at least one less cliché than another zombie apocalypse re-run.
The rotting process was just a form of cancerous evolution manifesting in a fleshly death.
'Probably a Dexterity Type. Though it might be strength. It seems I've lost my touch.'
Zarek chuckled to himself before he regained his focus.
Normally, he wasn't a very focused or serious individual, but he had learned to lock away the sillier halves of himself in battle. If he didn't, he wouldn't survive.
That was something he only got better and better at with every passing life.
They liked to say that age helped you mature. But Zarek had met plenty of old assholes.
He preferred to think of it another way.
Death made you mature.
Death three times over made you a monk.
SHU.
The claw of the dexterity-type Turned swiped out again, its figure lumbering forward in a clear over-extension.
Zarek easily sidestepped, slashing out at its arm.
Chi.
His machete only made it part of the way through before it got stuck.
The Turned unhitched its long face, roaring out a harrowing sound and a pulsing fog of rotting stench.
'I'm directing too much of my Godsfall toward the Eclipse technique…'
Despite his blade being caught, he was calm. He couldn't direct his Godsfall out of his body like Priya could. Without a Talent like hers, he would have to level up a lot more first, so he was stuck with blades that weren't the best for situations like these ones.
But if he fell to a newly formed Mature Turned like this one, that annoying system would have more than a right to make fun of him.
He abandoned his machete, letting it go and ducking beneath the swipe of the Turned's second arm.
The claws whistled through the night air, fast enough to make a man's hairs stand on end. But soon, Zarek was already back to his feet, slashing out with his one remaining machete.
A clang echoed through the air, the Turned whistling out in pain. It had foolishly attacked with the arm with a blade hanging out of it. Not only that, but it had crossed its arms over another, throwing itself off balance.
Zarek pivoted, taking advantage of the loss in balance to appear at the Turned's side. He slashed out at its ankle, swift and fast, but purposely shallow. He knew more about the defensive abilities of this Turned now, so he acted accordingly.
As expected, his blade went clean through, a wound barely a centimeter and a half appearing. But it was just enough.
The Turned tumbled, its tendon snapping under the pressure of its attempt to move. Its arms were still crossed, so there was no way for it to catch itself, especially not when Zarek took a step just out of the way… and enough to give him the space to raise his foot and slam down.
Chi.
Zarek's steel boot drove into the dull edge of the machete lodged in the Turned's arm, severing it in two.
Another howl echoed through the air, but every one of Zarek's next actions was measured, systematic, not wasting the slightest hint of movement.
He never overextended himself, never chased after the power he had once had in his former lives.
From a distance, he was colder and more ruthless in his pursuit of evolution than these Turned.