Click.
The sound crept into his ears. Eren tensed instantly, every muscle in his body becoming a cable about to snap. But it wasn't fear that paralyzed him, but an animal alertness that ignited his senses.
Arrows. They're coming from the ceiling. Left. Right.
The first whistle grazed his ear like a kiss of death. A sharp, brief pain made him aware of warm blood trickling down his neck. It was nothing more than a scratch, but the burning sensation set his nerves on fire.
There was no time for more.
The air filled with a buzzing sound, a black rain falling from the shadows. Eren leaped forward, his feet pounding the ground as he zigzagged to dodge, but the arrows were like swarming wasps.
A metal tip tore into his shoulder. Another scratched his side, digging in just enough to make him growl. Blood spurted out, thick and hot, soaking his clothes. His face contorted in pain, but he didn't stop.
His body, though fast, was not invincible. An arrow sank into his thigh, and this time the pain was explosive. He gasped, feeling the cold metal lodged in his flesh, but he gritted his teeth and kept moving, now slower, more clumsy.
Every step was a battle. Every breath is a challenge. Blood stained the ground behind him, leaving a dark, sticky trail.
...
Kael, who had already crossed the trap-filled corridor, looked at Eren with slight surprise. He hadn't expected him to improve so quickly and be so talented.
In his past life, he had considered him a promising talent, but he hadn't imagined it would be to this extent. He remembered what he had heard about Eren when he left Kiran Mountain and began traveling the world.
Kael knew that Eren, in his past life, wasn't even called that, but rather his name was Hael, and he had become a cardinal of the Holy Empire. However, he died prematurely; he didn't even reach the age of 30.
And now I have a future cardinal as my servant. But he knew that wasn't going to happen. He had changed that fate by recruiting him.
Kael watched as Eren finished passing through the trap-filled corridor, blood covering much of his body, but he didn't seem to care.
But there was a new sparkle in his eyes. It wasn't fear or pride: it was a hunger to improve.
Kael took out some bandages and threw them to Eren. "Bandage your wounds."
Eren took the bandages and began to cover his wounds, pulling out the arrows that had lodged in his body. His heart was racing; even though he had made it past the traps, the adrenaline had not left his body.
It was a different kind of pain. Not like when he devoured his sister's cold remains, nor like when he slit his mother's throat between dry sobs.
For Eren, this was completely new. However, he had not forgotten his past in the slightest; he remembered it all too clearly. He was well aware that this world was indifferent to the lives that inhabited it.
After finishing bandaging himself, Eren took a drink of water from his leather canteen, and with the coin sword in his hand, he began to walk down the hallway, without saying a word.
Kael watched him silently. Then he walked behind him, his footsteps echoing softly but surely in the dimly lit hallway.
With every step, his thoughts flowed, but they were not nostalgia or doubts: they were evaluations. The hunchback, the Awakening Ceremony, the Servants, Eren... Everything.
He had not forgotten his past death. Nor had he forgotten the question that still burned, even though he had locked it away under layers:
What caused my rebirth? The system? A hidden Zu?
The answer didn't matter. Not now. The only thing that mattered was this: in this life, he was in control. He had the advantage. And he wasn't going to lose it.
In addition, Kael noticed something else: he had been overly cautious, almost paranoid. But he did not consider this a flaw. It was the natural result of all his experiences... and of having seen the true face of this world.
And, as always, he made comparisons.
In my past life, I had a D-rank talent. I was weak, despised, manipulated, and used as cannon fodder. And I accepted it. I was naive. I hadn't seen the truth: that talent not only determines your worth... but your right to exist.
Several images from his previous life flashed through his mind: his first teacher selling him for some mana stones; his classmate stabbing him for a minor position; the faces of those who laughed at him for having no potential.
But now... now my talent is SSS rank. The difference is as vast as heaven and earth. In this life, I am a precious resource. To the clan, I am an asset to be nurtured, molded, and turned into the next leader.
Upon reaching this thought, Kael's dark eyes narrowed slightly, and a silent laugh escaped his lips.
According to the high command, my talent is ranked S, the highest in this generation. And since Lyra abandoned her fight for succession, I was the only one left.
Kael thought of all those protagonists in the xianxia novels he used to read. Overflowing talent, brainless pride, destinies written in stone...
Most of them were narrow-minded idiots. He would not be like them. He would not isolate the Clan or act like an arrogant genius. Not yet.
He would use them. Like everything else in this world. And when he reached rank 6, he would be free to pursue his goal while stealing opportunities from others with his own hands.
...
After walking down the hallway for a few minutes, they arrived at a large hall lit by torches. Kael watched as Eren suddenly stopped.
"What is that?" Eren asked in a low voice, unconsciously stepping back.
In the middle of the large hall, permeated with the stench of rotting flesh and dense humidity, the creature lay in its center.
Eren felt the air thicken in his lungs when he saw it: a monstrous tarantula two and a half meters long, its body black as freshly spilled tar, its hairy legs bristling.
But it wasn't just that.
It wasn't the legs, or the size, or even the way its chelicerae dripped an amber liquid that corroded the ground with a hiss of toxic vapor.
It was the head.
Where there should have been a spider's cephalothorax, the decomposed face of a man emerged.
Sallow, sticky skin stretched over bones that threatened to break at the slightest movement. The eyes were empty sockets, wells of infinite blackness where something writhed, white worms swollen with pus, tangled together like starving larvae.
The mouth, a twisted slit, let out a trickle of thick, green-black saliva.
The jaw dislocated with a crack of broken tendons, and a scream burst from his throat.
"KYYEE!!!"