Rise of the Super War God

Chapter 11: War God Combat Technique Training Course

Kael Ardyn gasped, chest heaving. Lyndric Fayne’s voice echoed in his mind again.

“Mission complete.”

The words slammed into him. Hard. Like a hammer against stone. Only then did he let himself drop onto the jagged, cold cavern floor—every muscle burned. Every joint screamed. His bones felt like brittle glass under the weight of exhaustion. The aftereffects of the Bean Burst skill were still surging through him—dizzy, shaking, barely able to keep his eyes open. The cavern walls shimmered, as if alive, breathing in the dim light.

This wasn’t just tiredness. This was survival carved into his flesh.

Cuts crisscrossed his arms and torso—more than twenty, some shallow, some deep enough to reveal raw, red flesh. The largest gash ran across his chest, edges dark and lifeless. Infection wouldn’t wait long.

If I don’t fix this soon… I’m done.

No medkits. No healers. No one. Only this harsh planet, and the Voidspawn lurking beyond, silent, deadly. Infection here didn’t mean sickness. It meant death. Cold, ruthless, inevitable.

Kael forced himself to his feet. Every step felt like fire crawling under his skin. He limped toward a cracked stone jar half-buried in dust. Inside, a murky liquid reeked sharply of alcohol. Maybe enough to clean the wounds.

A shard of broken bone scooped some into a strip of cloth torn from his sleeve.

The moment the alcohol touched his skin, lightning tore through him.

“Ah!” His body jerked. Sweat poured down his face. Teeth clenched, nerves screaming. But he endured, slow and careful, cleaning every wound he could reach.

When he was done, he wrapped ragged strips of cloth around the injuries. Ugly. Ineffective. More butcher than healer. But better than nothing.

Some wounds were still out of reach. The deep gash on his back, for one. He’d need help from the creature beside him.

He turned.

The Suture Granny. Her face was grotesque, wrinkled, with sharp eyes. Six twitching tentacles sprouting from her neck. And what he saw next made his stomach twist.

Her tentacles plunged into a small Voidspawn corpse, writhing like snakes. Then, small fleshy lumps began crawling along each tentacle—dark, pulsing, alive almost. They slithered beneath her skin, vanishing under her throat.

The corpse shriveled before his eyes. Its exoskeleton collapsed, flesh drying as if all life had been sucked out. Within moments, it was hollow, paper-thin, weightless.

She’s drinking it. Actually draining it dry.

Kael’s scalp pricked. Fear rooted him to the spot. The Suture Granny’s eyes fluttered closed. Her face smoothed as if decades were peeled away. Even her severed tentacle began regrowing inch by inch.

Her feeding was precise, ritualistic. Tentacle after tentacle, corpse after corpse, each motion perfect, inhuman.

Three bodies later, her transformation was complete. Cheeks faintly pink, wrinkles gone, tentacles thick and glistening. She looked… almost alive.

Kael swallowed hard. Gods above… she’s worse than the Voidspawn themselves.

She turned to him. Voice rasping, metal scraping stone.

“You little bastard,” she hissed. “That fight nearly killed me. Lucky for you, this old hag doesn’t die easily. These corpses still had enough life to patch me up.”

Two tentacles coiled around a Bloodfury Predator corpse, rolling it toward him with a wet, sickening squelch.

“Go on. Eat. You’ll need strength if you want to survive.”

Kael’s stomach lurched. “Eat… that?” His voice trembled. “There has to be something else. I’ll get poisoned.”

The Suture Granny laughed. Sharp. Metallic. Cruel.

“Poisoned? Starved, more like. This planet belongs to the Voidspawn. No cows, no crops, no fruit. You eat them, or you die.”

She slithered closer. Tentacles coiled with terrifying grace. Humans are strange. You eat beasts, birds, fish… yet call this unclean? Flesh is flesh. I’ve tested it. The meat of these Bloodfury Predators is toxic, yes… but their brains?”

Her eyes glimmered. “Pure nourishment.”

With a wet crack, one tentacle split open the skull. Bone peeled back like ripe fruit, revealing pale, jelly-like matter.

Kael gagged at the smell—foul, metallic, rotten eggs soaked in brine. Hunger clawed at him. He hadn’t eaten all day. His body screamed to resist, but he had no choice.

He clenched his jaw, scooped a handful, and shoved it in his mouth. Slimy, cold, disgusting—but it filled the gnawing emptiness.

Warmth spread through his veins. Pain dulled. Thoughts sharpened. He felt… alive.

Then, the voice came again. Calm. Mechanical. Familiar.

“Host has finished consuming nourishment. Reward: War God Combat Technique Training Course. Activate now?”

Kael blinked. “A training course?” Alright… let’s see what this is.

“Ding. Initiating War God Combat Technique Training Course. Scanning host… generating physical data.”

Lines of glowing code flickered in his mind.

Host Name: Kael Ardyn

Species: Human (Primate)

Cellular Vitality: 8 / 10

Power Output: 8 / 10

Agility Response: 8 / 10

Mental Energy: 4 / 10

Endurance: 7 / 10

Special Trait: Bean Burst Skill

Exclusive Skill: Locked

War God Reward: Eye of the Reaper

“Strength, agility, and endurance have improved slightly through recent training. War God Combat Training Course (Beginner Level) includes nine killing techniques and nine movement postures. Derived from countless death battles, fused with ancient yoga principles. Practice repeatedly to enhance stats and close-combat skill.”

Lyndric Fayne appeared—a tall, battle-hardened man, eyes sharp as knives.

No words. No smile. Just movement.

The first strike was a blur. Surgical. Deadly. Each motion carried rhythm, a deadly cadence. Second, third, fourth—each faster, sharper.

Kael followed, mimicking slowly, then faster. Sweat trickled down his neck. Each breath is heavier. Heart pounding. Muscles igniting.

Then came the yoga-like stances. Twists, bends, impossible positions. Spine screaming, joints rebelling. He held them. Pain was a teacher. Agony, a guide. Power, control, precision stirring beneath it all.

Every breath aligned with motion. Every fiber protested, then settled. Each strike, each stance, is designed to kill. Break bones, crush windpipes, end life with surgical precision.

Projection faded. Kael trembled, drenched in sweat. Body burning, mind sharper than ever.

Silence returned. Only the Suture Granny is feasting nearby.

He leaned back against the cold stone. Deep inside, he could still feel the rhythm of the nine deadly moves pulsing like a heartbeat.

The world outside wanted him dead—but for the first time since crashing, he felt something else.

Hope.

A faint glow appeared on the far wall. Taller than any Voidspawn, moving closer. A presence so powerful it made the air itself shiver.

Kael’s gut clenched. Not human. But he felt ready.

Now, he wasn’t just surviving. He was becoming something deadlier than survival itself.

The lesson was about to begin.