Daion moved through the trees, surprised by how quiet everything was. He had expected a forest teeming with monsters, yet so far, he hadn't encountered a single one. Maybe their earlier run-in had just been bad luck… or maybe something else was keeping them away.
Even so, his stomach grew led in protest. It had been hours since he last ate, and the hunger was starting to wear on him. His steps slowed when he spotted a pair of creatures in the underbrush—rabbits, but larger than usual, with rounded ears and thick fur. They nibbled on the grass, completely unbothered by his presence.
He recalled what the hooded man had told him about the efects of the gauntlet in this world.
"I shouldn't have to worry about poison or disease… right?"
Daion watched the rabbits closely. There was something strangely familiar about them, though he couldn't place why.
A sudden gust of wind rustled the leaves, and the sky took on a golden hue. Sunset was approaching, bathing the forest in deep yellows and dark greens. Fortunately, with two suns overhead, he still had some light left.
Tightening his grip on the sword, he moved carefully. His footsteps were calculated, silent. Strangely, the weapon felt lighter in his hands—more natural. Had wielding that sword always been this easy?
The rabbits were now within striking range. Daion raised his blade above his head, ready to strike.
But just as he was about to swing—
CLANG!
A sharp, metallic sound shattered the silence.
The rabbits bolted instantly, vanishing into the undergrowth. Daion reacted instinctively, swinging his sword toward a rabit, but he only hit dirt.
"Tsk." He clicked his tongue in frustration.
His gaze snapped toward the source of the sound. It echoed in short bursts, like steel scraping against steel.
Someone—or something—was fighting nearby.
Daion gripped his sword tighter and moved toward the noise, his pulse quickening.
The sounds of clashing weapons grew louder with each step. He slipped between the trees, keeping to the shadows, until he finally caught sight of the battle.
Four figures were locked in combat, their weapons flashing as they surrounded grotesque creatures—floating, winged eyeballs.
A chill ran down Daion's spine at the sight of them. They hovered erratically, their massive pupils locked onto their prey with eerie intensity. Then, one of them suddenly split open, revealing a grotesque, fanged maw.
Daion's stomach twisted. One of the creatures lunged at a young woman wielding a spear. She reacted swiftly, blocking its attack with practiced ease. Daion immediately noticed something—each of the fighters wore gauntlets similar to his own. Summoned ones.
That realization caught him off guard. He hadn't expected to run into so many at once. Though, thinking back, the hooded man and that so-called god had hinted at this.
His attention shifted to the man leading the group. Without a doubt, he was their commander. His gauntlet was larger, more robust than the others, covering his entire forearm. He wielded a short sword adorned with golden engravings and glowing markings—an elegant weapon that truly looked fit for a hero. Compared to that, Daion's own dull, black blade seemed… insignificant.
"Maybe… mine will look like that after enough energy absorption."
But more than his equipment, what impressed Daion was his skill. The man moved with surgical precision, blocking and countering with seamless efficiency. Despite the short reach of his blade, every strike found its mark.
Daion crept closer, mesmerized by their coordination. While one fighter distracted the monsters, another struck with pinpoint accuracy. Their movements were fluid. Deadly.
Compared to them, Daion felt clumsy. Almost pathetic.
Then a sudden, chilling sensation crept up his spine. Something was watching him. He barely turned his head and found himself staring directly into the massive pupil of one of the creatures.
His skin prickled. It had spotted him. There was no time to react. The eyeball let out a grotesque, silent shriek and lunged at him.
CLACK!
Its fangs clamped down—on his sword. Daion felt a violent pull. He tried to yank his weapon free, but the grip was impossibly strong. The sound of their struggle caught the group's attention, but they were too occupied to help.
"Shit…!"
Daion wrestled with his blade, trying to tear it from the creature's maw. With a sudden, forceful twist, he sent the beast flying backward.
"I'm stronger…"
He felt it coursing through him—the energy he had absorbed earlier was kicking in. But relief lasted only a second. The creature lifted itself again, its pupil narrowing with rage. It dove at him once more, faster than before.
Daion knew he couldn't outrun it. Instead, he used his sword as bait. As expected, the monster latched onto it with its jagged teeth, forcing him back. He lost his footing and tumbled through the trees, rolling into a clearing—right where the other summoned ones were still fighting.
The impact knocked the breath from his lungs, but he had no time to recover. Without thinking, he grabbed one of the creature's wings and twisted it.
CRUNCH!
A sickening snap rang out as the appendage nearly tore from its body. The beast screeched in agony, but Daion didn't let go. Seizing the moment, he slammed it into the ground with all his strength. The winged eye convulsed, its mouth opening wide in a final, soundless scream. Daion drove his sword straight into its throat.
For a moment, the creature trembled, then fell still. Daion exhaled sharply, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. When he looked up, the other summoned ones were staring at him. Silence.
"…Uh. Hey."