NOVPUBWater was truly something to be feared—it gave life, but it took it just as easily. Slowly, inevitably, it broke down and corroded… everything. Even this wreckage must have once been a vibrant city. Now, it was merely a forgotten ruin, half-submerged in water.
Or perhaps most of it was submerged. The part they were standing on, deep in this bleak underground portion of the city, was merely the tip of the iceberg.
A flooded and dark ruin was already dangerous enough. Escaping from such a place was a hazard in itself, filled with unknown wreckage, unstable currents, and drowned pathways.
However, that wasn't even the main obstacle.
Most of the city's ancient residents had long since fallen to corruption—becoming hideous abominations that now called these dark, flooded ruins their home.
There were too many of them. Escape wasn't just dangerous—it was futile.
The only thing keeping Damon and his party alive was the small island of wreckage they'd found themselves stranded on. It was the only thing the monsters wouldn't tread on.
But even that wasn't a guarantee. Some of these creatures could walk on dry land… they just hadn't. Not yet. Like the many predators lurking in the depths, they had opted to observe.
Watching from the water.
Waiting for them to snap.
Damon sat there, watching them back. He had told his party to kill them all earlier—but that would be impossible with their current strength.
Some of these monsters were already at the Second Advancement.
And the ones deeper… were stronger.
None of them had any aquatic battle prowess. While Damon could breathe underwater, he wasn't exactly handy down there.
Water pressure, cold, disorientation… all of it still affected him. And unlike land, water didn't forgive mistakes.
He had no plan. No reliable way out.
He had tested something, though. He'd learned that noise didn't really provoke the monsters—so that was a plus. At least for now.
He glanced at Evangeline, noting the absence of their supply bags.
"We don't have any rations… do we?"
Evangeline, sitting on what appeared to be a broken pillar, stared bleakly at the water. Her golden eyes flickered in the murk.
"How long can someone in the First-Class Advancement last without food?"
Sylvia knew he was talking to her. She took everything into account—mana usage, body fat, metabolism—before giving a rough estimate.
"A normal human without a class might last one, maybe two months, with adequate water," she said. "But strength and mobility would start declining in a matter of days to a week."
She raised her head with a tired sigh.
"A person in the First Class is stronger, so they can last six months by my estimate… but they'll lose their fighting power in about a month."
She turned her gaze to Leona. The Beastkin girl, still clad in her armor, stood silent. The damp air had left them perpetually soaked.
"Some of us have faster metabolisms," Sylvia added, "so we won't last long… without food."
Damon understood—she was talking about Leona. Beastkin were built differently. Her constitution demanded more energy, more intake.
"How long…?" Xander asked, hoisting his spear, his grip firm despite the tension.
"With her physique… a few days. At most."
Leona smiled, a hollow, almost bleak amusement on her lips.
"Guess my appetite finally became the end of me…"
Matia clenched her fists. Wet hair stuck to her skin, clinging like a shroud.
"I could've scouted ahead… if I could still fly…"
Alas, her wings had been sacrificed—burned away to heal Damon's lost arm and free him from the disintegration enchantment placed on Alazard's cursed sword.
Damon sighed, his fist clenched.
"That's not a viable option anymore… we need to secure food."
He stood up, voice steady.
"On the upside… we didn't lose everything. We still have one supply bag."
The others looked at him, confused. They hadn't seen any supply bag. Come to think of it, he wasn't carrying one when they'd set out two days ago.
Damon raised his hand. The shadows stirred.
From the dark folds of his shadow, he pulled out a pristine bag—clean, dry, and intact.
He looked at them, voice calm.
"You guys were reluctant to take the meat from the ground crawlers after finding out they were human once… so we left some behind. I stuffed what I could into my bag."
He paused, raising his hand again as the shadows receded.
"My bag didn't have much space, since I took some of the unidentified potions and poisons from the Beldam's nest…"
They stared at him, surprised. Damon was full of surprises.
"What kind of spell… is that?" Evangeline asked.
Damon didn't answer truthfully.
"It's just another self-created spell," he said casually. "Like my ability to turn into a shadow… and a few of my other abilities. It's an exclusive shadow-based spell."
He hated lying to them—but he couldn't tell them about the system. About the uniqueness that allowed him to gain a bizarre amount of skills by devouring enemies and leveling up.
The fewer people who knew his secret, the better.
Let them think it was a spell unique to his attribute. That was safer.
He opened the bag and pulled out a wrap of preserved meat—still clean, still edible.
Two days ago, they would've recoiled at the idea of eating something that used to be human. Now… now they were starving.
He didn't need to say anything.
They took the food without complaint. Passed it to Leona first—her condition was the worst. Then it went around the group.
Damon watched them, face calm. 𝚗ov𝚙𝚞𝚋.c𝚘m
They didn't care anymore. This was meat. It didn't matter if it used to be someone.
Hunger… it brought out the monsters in men.
He should know. He had been a monster of starvation once.
Matia shaped ice into a bowl. Leona summoned a small cloud and filled it with clean water.
They drank in silence.
As they ate, Damon spoke.
"I only have enough for three days… Within those three days, we have to find an alternative."
