Where... where exactly did he go wrong? Where did he mess up?
As the world stretched into slow motion around him, Rhos found himself asking questions that had never crossed his mind before.
For two years he had survived where Rangers stronger than him had died. While he had always came back from every expedition, others came back as names carved onto memorial stones... or never came back at all.
It wasn’t because he was strong himself or was blessed with unimaginable luck. No, but there was a reason why.
Red Deer Rhos understood the world for what it was. He never formed any type of connection with anyone from Elderwood. He minded his own business and never volunteered for anything unless it directly benefited him.
On top of that, he never overestimated himself or chased glory. He knew when to fight and, more importantly, when to run. He watched before acting, studied his surroundings, learned the habits of beasts while conserving his strength and refused to gamble his life on pointless heroics.
Every decision he made revolved around one simple principle... stay alive.
As long as he stayed alive, everything else could wait. It wasn’t the most honourable way to live, some may call it cowardly, but so what? It got him this far didn’t it?
It kept him breathing while those countless brave fools became corpses for mere titles and admiration.
So why then? Why was he the one dying now?
His mind searched desperately through everything that had happened since leaving the Biome. The answer came almost immediately.
’When did I start being the hero?’
His thoughts began to spiral. This was a genuine question he was curious about.
Was it when he started running toward the danger instead of away from it? Or when he had run back to save Keeper Taru? Or when he decided that Nimra’s life was worth risking his own?
Or was it when he had become stupid enough to think kindness would be repaid with kindness?
"Hehehe!"
Rhos laughed bitterly. The answer was so painfully obvious he couldn’t help but laugh at himself. He had forgotten the first rule to survival he had taught himself.
’Your own life comes first’
However, somewhere along the way, without realizing it, he had lowered his guard. He had trusted someone. And now, this was what that trust awarded him.
’What a damn idiot’
The Wrath’s cavernous maw rushed toward him, rows upon rows of fangs closing in on the helpless human.
"No..."
Rhos’s amber eyes widened as his fingers tightened around the dagger’s handle. He twisted his body in midair to face the monster head on.
"I’m not going down without making you choke on it first, you oversized mutt!"
When the Wrath’s jaws closed on him, a crunching sound echoed throughout the forest. There was no word in any language capable of describing the pain that followed.
The fangs punched through his flesh, agony unlike anything he had ever imagined tore through his torso and a sound escaped his throat. He wasn’t sure if it was a scream or just air being forced from his crushed lungs.
Whatever it was, in that moment, it felt as though his body had been shoved into a furnace lined with molten knives.
Even so, Rhos bit through the pain and moved his hand holding the dagger. Using every last fragment of consciousness he had left, he jammed both feet against one of the Wrath’s lower fangs so he wouldn’t slide deeper between them.
Then, he repeatedly buried the blade into the thick flesh surrounding one of the creature’s burning crimson eyes. He would have preferred it to stab one of its eyes but its skull was too large.
So he stabbed whatever he could reach like an animal biting back, refusing to be eaten.
Blood erupted across the silver fur and the Wrath let out an enraged howl. Its massive head shook violently before it spat him out.
Rhos struck the ground like discarded meat. He rolled several times before finally coming to stop against a tree root.
He barely felt the impact. Compared to the pain already coursing through him, it was nothing.
"Cough...cough..."
Now covered in blood and fatal wounds, he tried to stand but nothing happened. His legs refused to answer him no matter how much he willed them.
That was until he realized that everything below his waist didn’t respond to him.
He planted both of his hands against the ground and dragged himself away. His body moved only a few inches while leaving a thick trail of blood on the forest floor.
"What a pathetic sight..."
He tried to laugh but blood spilled between his lips, forcing him to stop and focus on crawling. With his vital organs destroyed, he understood how pointless it was.
He could feel warmth leaving his body and the cold quickly replacing it. This feeling permeating his body right now was a strange one. Was it death?
It was strange. Not at all as frightening as he thought. Right now, his body wanted nothing more than to close his eyes. This was it.
’I already know that’
The Wrath finally regained its composure and looked at its prey with more caution. Rhos clenched his blood stained teeth.
’I had already accepted my death... so why does it piss me off now?!’
Nimra’s face appeared inside his thoughts. Her smile, her laughter, her nagging, the way she clung to him at times and the conversations they shared while crossing the forest.
Every memory of her surfaced one after the other. The final one was her tear filled eyes after she had literally thrown him to the wolf. Leaving him to die so she could save herself.
’What a joke’
The smile that enlisted on his face was twisted, mainly because of the rage that boiled in his chest.
"What a complete fucking joke!"
When he let out a maniac laugh, crimson horns bursted from the earth beneath him and impaled his abdomen. He was then lifted several feet above. The dagger slipped from his numb fingers and blood dripped freely down the crimson horns.
Oddly enough, it no longer hurts. His body had reached its limit. He couldn’t feel anything anymore. Everything grew distant.
From his heavy eyelids, he saw the Wrath finally approaching him.
However something fluttered into view. It was a tiny figure with several delicate wings. Its form was bathed in a dust of golden light.
[Human. Before you stands a contract. Your life wanes. Your soul approaches its end]
[Should you desire to live, strength shall become yours. In return, you will one day fulfill a single request]
[Time grows short.]
[Choose]
Under any other circumstance... Rhos would have questioned everything. But the Wrath was already opening its jaws again. Plus his thoughts had already begun dissolving. He did not have the luxury to question anything, nor hesitate.
He swallowed blood, forcing what little air remained inside his ruined lungs outward.
"Whatever you want... just don’t let me die"
The light from the tiny being became brighter as it said.
[Congratulations, Human. You are quite fortunate...]