UNLOCK: I CAN SEE MY STATS

chapter 12 : As you wish

Just a few minutes earlier, the sky had begun to darken as clouds gathered above the region, thunder rumbling and lightning flashing now and then.

Raindrops had started falling gently over the charred remains of Loran’s camp. The air was thick with the scent of ash, molten metal, and half-burned flesh.

Scattered tongues of fire danced erratically over the torn tent ruins, casting broken shadows across the muddy ground, where small pits had formed and filled with inky black water.

A short distance away from the wreckage, Marcus huddled behind the frame of a collapsed tent, pressing his chest to the damp soil, his shoulders trembling from sheer exhaustion.

“Hmm! Five soldiers...”

He whispered to himself, lips quivering as he stared through the holes in the burnt fabric at a group of men clad in fine armor, iron laced with crimson. The insignia of Ironland gleamed boldly on their chests like an arrogant warning.

Sparks flew around their boots with each step, and the distant roar of fire blended with the sharp tones of their voices.

One of them kicked the body of a fallen Loranian fighter and laughed coldly, as if crushing a bothersome insect.

“They thought this camp was their final line of defense... what a joke,” he said, then spat to the side.

His comrade, wiping his blade with a cloth, replied,

“The higher-ups are still stuck in the same methods. They send us in like test blades, while the real armies push from the coast. Believe me, this land will soon drown under the weight of our battalions.”

Marcus’s jaw clenched. A cold bead of sweat crept behind his ear despite the night’s chill.

“Damn it! So this attack was just a prelude...”

He thought, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“The fall of this camp is inevitable... they’re planning to take control at any cost.”

“I have to warn the leaders. They need to know a bigger storm is coming...”

“The best option is retreat...”

He crawled slowly out of the tent’s shadow, moving carefully to avoid alerting the soldiers. He was no match for them , both in numbers and in condition.

Once he was far enough, he straightened up slightly and tightened the scorched leather armor strapped across his chest, damaged earlier in the tent assault.

“Luckily, enemy soldiers aren’t skilled in sensing techniques...”

The thought flickered through his mind as he sprinted silently, scanning the area for someone, anyone.

Suddenly, a thunderous beast-like roar shattered the fragile silence.

GRAAWWWH!!

Marcus’s blood froze. He turned instinctively. From the rubble leapt a colossal dog, three meters tall, its striped crimson-and-black skin pulsing, eyes glowing red like embers. Its thick tail coiled behind it like a whip, and its saliva splattered onto the scorched earth.

Marcus’s eyes widened in shock.

“Damn it...”

His gaze locked onto the terrifying creature.

“A member of the Shifters’ Clan…” He bit his lip. “Just what I needed right now…”

BOOM!!

The ground quaked beneath the monster’s landing. Marcus dove aside, rolling across his shoulder near a burning crate. Scalding steam from molten iron hissed at his face, making him cough violently before he steadied his gaze on the looming beast.

He quickly recalled the facts about the Shifters’ Clan, one of the nine clans ruling Ironland, alongside the Stone Clan. According to his knowledge, once a member of this clan turned four years old, they could acquire the form of a specific animal and shift into it at will.

The terrifying part , the beast form evolved and grew stronger as the user aged.

"A dog form... likely from the Kelbon Tribe..."

Marcus muttered with a grimace, analyzing the creature’s frame.

He remembered how the Shifters’ Clan was divided into multiple tribes, and the Kelbon tribe members could all transform into various canine breeds.

"At least these beasts can’t perform techniques, but their transformation boosts speed and strength to compensate..."

The creature crouched again for a second strike. Marcus watched its muscles stretch and contract.

POOF!!

It leapt once more. But Marcus rapidly formed several hand signs and unleashed his counterattack:

∆ Lightning Style: Serpents of Lightning ∆

ZZZTT!!

Several blue lightning serpents burst from his palm, striking the creature’s thigh and coursing through its body. The beast convulsed, its skin seared with black splotches, and it reeled in pain, roaring loud enough to shake the ground.

“Damn, that roar was loud. It must’ve drawn attention...”

Marcus thought grimly, eyes locked on the giant dog staggering and twitching from the shock.

“Useless technique. Lasts just seconds…” Marcus said through heavy breaths. “I need distance...”

He turned and sprinted toward a line of burnt tents, when the ground beneath him exploded.

CRAAACK!!

The beast burst out again, chasing Marcus like a predator after its prey.

Marcus darted through a slit in the shredded fabric, catching a glimpse of Ironland soldiers approaching. Their hearts seemed to leap as they watched the pursuit unfold, amused by the hunt. There were five of them, armed with long spears and lightning javelins. Their cold eyes glinted in the firelight.

“Damn it, they got here faster than I thought…”

Marcus cursed bitterly. They were the same five soldiers whose conversation he had overheard earlier.

“Oh, a lost little guest?” one of them jeered, voice dripping with mockery and glee.

Another waved his spear with a sadistic grin.

“Did you get separated from your mommy, sweetheart?”

Marcus’s shoulders tensed. The beast snarled behind him. The soldiers blocked his path ahead. Beads of salty sweat slid into his eyes, and he shut them for a moment.

“Damn... trapped. No escape.”

He spoke to himself, eyes darting for a way out of this lethal cage.

He glanced back at the beast. Drool dripped from its fangs, and its eyes, mocking, intelligent , were not those of an animal. Then he looked at the soldiers, seeing how they had spread into a half-circle, eager to watch their prey be torn apart.

“Hey Liuta!! Go hunt somewhere else, this one’s ours...”

shouted one of the soldiers toward the giant dog, which bared its sharp teeth in a grotesque smile.

“Impossible!! , get lost ! , This one’s mine...”

came a rough, human voice from the dog’s mouth. But no one was surprised, Shifter clan members could speak fluently even while transformed.

“Well then...”

Marcus muttered, slowly raising his hands as if surrendering. “There’s only one option left…”

The Ironland soldiers stepped closer, trading crude laughs. The nearest had a scar across his cheek and a short sword in hand. He pointed it at Marcus and said to his companion,

“Grab him alive, Grimr. We’ll hand him over to the commander. He’ll reward us with a gold coin. That pretty face is a rare prize…”

Grimr, a burly soldier, stepped forward and raised his spear, ready to immobilize Marcus, who only smiled faintly.

“You’re very calm, boy...” said Grimr, planting his spear into the ground.

“Do you want this the easy way or the hard way?”

“As for me, I prefer the hard way... so please resist.”

Marcus raised his brows and smirked.

“As you wish...”

∆ All for One ∆