The Squalor Bastard Becomes The Gravemarch

The Superior

Won slammed against a stone outcrop, his back and head smacking hard as he crumpled to the ground. Blood instantly ran down to his temple. 

The air reeked of rot, the stench clinging to his skin like oil. Even his sensari senses burned from the rancid stink of the thrips. It was becoming impossible to breathe as seconds passed by.

Screams tore through the air. Three men. Won turned his head, spotting them thrashing as the thrips devoured them alive, their flesh torn apart by relentless, gnashing mandibles. The men’s cries turned to wet gurgles as one thrip’s jaws sheared clean through a throat.

You wanted to make me your snack, Won thought grimly, pushing himself to his feet, but fate had other plans.

I shouldn't bother myself thinking about you now. This is my test. I have to survive.

He caught the faint echo of footsteps retreating into a cave, the last three men including the master, scrambling to hide themselves. 

His sensari sharpened, catching the ragged breaths of the men cowering deep inside the cave.

Pathetic cowards.

Won’s lips twitched into a faint smile as he eyed the corpses again. No... not corpses anymore. Just scraps of flesh.

I wanted to kill you all myself.

What a shame to watch my prey get torn apart by something else.

After finishing their feast the swarm’s many eyes turned toward Won, who stood by the cliff’s edge, watching their every move. He sensed it immediately—the hum of a superior thrip lurking just beyond the treeline.

Finally, huh?

Thrips were smaller than a drull, but in a swarm, they were far more troublesome and annoying.

You’re beneath the rank of that drull I killed, aren’t you?  Won mused.

Reading his mind Woco’s voice responded in his head. Yes, you’re right. Thrips are lower-rank entities.

But annoying as hell, Won replied inwardly.

I’m not strong enough to wipe you all out... so I’ll make you turn on each other instead.

He stepped forward, positioning himself.

This better work.

Closing his eyes, he steadied his breath, sharpening his focus as he recalled the face of the drull. The dark sky darkened more—thick gray clouds gathering overhead as the drull’s towering form roared to life in his mind. Moss-crusted and colossal, the geological beast seemed to rise from the very stormclouds, shaking the heavens.

Won’s muscles bulged, bones grinding as they stretched. His skin hardened into jagged stone, swelling until he stood eight meters tall.

The thrips froze instantly. From what Won could tell, they bowed, pressing low to the ground in submission. All except one—the superior in the back. It hesitated, its pride holding it for a heartbeat before it too bowed before the drull’s image.

Superiority, huh? Even among monsters like you? Won smirked.

Does that make us human monsters too?

No... we’re worse. Because we know better—and still betray each other without hesitation.

Humanity’s greatest enemy is human.

Won stomped forward, each step making the earth tremble. He let out a deafening roar, the sound splitting the air and echoing to the horizon. The thrips stayed down, confused, their mandibles twitching erratically.

Time to test the cognidominance.

He focused his mind, his sensari latching onto the swarm’s collective pulse. His will surged, a brutal command flooding into their minds:

“Kill each other. Prove your worth.”

The swarm convulsed as if struck by lightning—then erupted into chaos, tearing into one another, mandibles rending exoskeletons apart. Venom hissed as it sprayed, and white blood spattered the ground. The air was filled with the shrieks of dying insects, so sharp it was hard to breathe.

Won lumbered toward the treeline, eyes locking onto the superior thrip—the only one not fighting, staring straight at him. Won felt its panic, its sudden, desperate attempt to wrest control of its swarm.

You have caught me already, haven't you? I see. You are worthy to be a superior of your kind. Won thought, his drull form tilting its head slightly.

The superior stepped back, fear rippling through its movements.

“Too late,” Won growled, his voice a grinding echo. “You’re not the true controller. I’ll break you down and hunt your real master—the higher-rank entity that sent you.”

Without another thought, he charged. His stone fists moved faster than his mind, slamming into the superior’s head with a crushing force.

The superior shrieked, mandibles snapping wildly as it lunged. Won tracked every movement, sidestepping the venomous tail strike with precision. He caught the tail mid-swing and tore it free in a gout of white blood.

The creature staggered, disoriented.

Won saw the opening. 

Perfect.

He drew his sword from the air, morphing back to his original form mid-strike, not the handsome one, but his true skinny self. With a vicious slash, he drove the sensari blade deep into the superior’s skull, forcing it down until the creature’s body split in two equal parts.

Breathing hard, Won slumped against the superior’s ruined corpse. 

A mere flintshade, huh?

A drop of water fell on his cheek. Then it started raining heavily, washing away the disgusting rotten scent from the air.

Blood dripped from his sword, mixing with the rain. His ears bled from the roar he’d unleashed in the drull’s form.

Should’ve held back on the screaming, he thought, shutting his eyes.

He sensed the swarm’s cohesion disintegrate completely—the thrips crumbling apart, mindless and broken.

The Codex Map flickered before his eyes, and Woco's voice rang in his head.

[Ashen Won, you have defeated a thrip superior.]

Boons: Sense 6

Bearings: Sensari, Disguise, Cognidominance

Bearing Rate: 9

Skills Used: Cognidominance Command

Vitality: 29

Vault: Item 2

[You have obtained a thrip venom core. View its function?]

“Yes,” Won responded inwardly, letting the rain sooth his burning skin.

"The venom core will project a lifelike mirage or a clone of you—either your actual form or any disguise of your choosing—for 20 seconds. You cannot use this more than five times a day. The clone will mimic your movements and aura. When an enemy strikes the clone, it will burst into a cloud of thrip venom, from slowing the enemy's movement and dulling their senses to killing them depending on the opposition's strength. Note: the clone cannot always inflict damage—it only serves to draw aggression, giving you time to reposition or strike.”

Then with a pause it added, “Do you wish to keep it, sell it in the Codex Map, or explore purchase options?”

“Nah,” Won murmured. “That’s already a good haul. I will take it.”

[Vault: Item 3]

I just had a bath.

***

Won returned to the camp where the three men were hiding, once again wearing the handsome man's face. The crooked man gasped when he saw him.

“Where the hell were you? You could've gotten us killed!”

Won glanced at each of them, amused. Do they not realize I’m the one who saved them?

Or were they too blind to notice what happened on the battlefield?

Either way, it’s for the best. If they know the truth, they’ll fear me. If not, they’ll stay oblivious to who I really am.

“And how exactly did I put you in danger?” he asked the crooked man, raising a brow.

“You’re the swordsman! You’re the only one here who can fight,” the crooked man snapped, as if Won had sworn an oath to protect them with his life.

Won turned away, scoffing dryly as he scratched his forehead. “So, you expect me to risk my life fighting for you?”

The crooked man stiffened and looked away, but the third man muttered, “Acting tough now, are we?”

“Anyway, where is that kid?” The crooked man asked, suddenly remembering.

Won shifted on his legs, saying, “He died. The thrips attacked him when he got out of the cave.”

“Seriously? God! We have feasted on him now.”

Won tilted his head, disgusted already, dismissing the comment, then looked toward the master. “Why are you the master anyway? I don’t get it. Is it just because you’ve gotten fat—though not exactly buff—after gorging yourself on human flesh?”

The master said nothing. He stood, gathered some firewood, and started building a fire.

“Oi, swordsman!” the third man called out a few minutes later as they circled close to the flames, warming themselves.

Won ignored him, busy examining the handsome man’s sword, now strapped to his own belt.

“I’m talking to you!” the third man shouted.

“...Listening…” Won muttered without looking up.

“It’s nearly dawn. We’ll catch some sleep before heading west in the morning. You take the watch.”

Not that I didn’t see that coming, Won thought bitterly as he stood and stepped out of the cave.

***

By morning, with the sun high above them, Won called a halt. Everyone was drenched in sweat and panting. Won scanned the area, his gaze lingering on the distance. Narrowing his eyes, he watched for a moment, then turned back to his ‘team.’

“There’s something in those thickets. We’ll need to check it out before heading further west.”

“What do you think it is? Animal or monster?” the crooked man asked, licking his lips, a glint of saliva shining at the corner of his mouth.

“I thought you only ate humans,” Won shot back.

“There’s no one left to eat. Only if that kid didn’t die too, we could have meat for days,” he muttered under his breath before adding, “You know we only feast on children—they’re tastier.”

A flash of rage surged through Won, but he tamped it down. “Could be animals. I don’t smell any monsters. Still, we can’t be careless. We don’t know what’s lurking in there.”

“I can’t wait any longer,” the crooked man growled, springing to his feet. “Animals are easy prey. You coming with me?” he asked, eyeing Won.

Won shook his head. “No. I’m resting.”

The crooked man looked to the third man, who avoided his gaze, busy stuffing bread into his mouth.

“Fine. I’ll go alone,” the crooked man spat, determined.

Minutes later, a scream tore through the air. Then another.

And another.

More followed.

Then silence.

The screams had come from the thickets.

Everyone scrambled to their feet and ran toward the sound. When they arrived, they found the crooked man’s mangled body entangled in a dense thicket of razor-sharp vines.

The third man cursed under his breath. Won and the master stood still, eyes locked on the broken corpse.

The crooked man was dead.