C3 (rewrite)
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As of 03/10/24, this chapter is rewritten.

I ran. First at a trot, then at such a speed that I’d worn the muscles of my ribs sore, creating a sharp pain in my sides. I held the sword with both hands, holding it as if I was running forth with a pole to avoid catching myself on any brush too thick for my current body to overpower. Abandoning the sword should have been common sense, though, for my life, I couldn't wrest my fingers from it. The weight was great for such a small body, muscled aching as I struggled. However, my mind screamed to hold onto the forged steel lest a sense of dread overpower me. My life, somehow, depended on this sword. I darted into the woodline, delving deeper into the forest in some strange hope of giving myself mere minutes, even seconds, ahead of my pursuers. From what I could make out, both from sound and eyesight, I appeared to gain some space ahead of them, though the thought did little to ease me and slow my pace. 

 

Some hour or so later, my breathing was so ragged that any mother accustomed to a child with asthma would have eyed me with worry. My clothes were soaked in sweat and waterlogged to the point one wouldn’t doubt I jumped into the river wholesale. A child of such size, one would think they’d perish at such loss of water. 

 

Just– keep– moving.

 

I brushed my bangs from my eyes with my forearm, freeing my gaze from obstruction, fearing an outstretched root or any other obstacle that would get in the way.

 

Damnit! Just the icing on the cake!

 

Being pursued by some unseen enemy so far, my body was starting to feel the chase. Like some exhausted game animal worn down by dogs, I was slowing down from the lack of energy I already suffered.

 

At this point in time, fear began setting in, my body finally chose to void my stomach contents as I ran. It was all I could muster to continue pushing myself, the tremors within my upper body nearly doubling me over. It was water from the river, having turned my stomach over upon itself thanks to overconsumption. I’d taken in more than would have been wise with hindsight taken into account. 

 

 

 

For fifteen long– agonizing minutes, I continued that pace, avoiding my pursuers with an almost animalistic instinct. Sadly, luck, or more likely my lack of evasion skill compared to those who hunted me was coming to a head. Everything burned; my lungs, my legs, my core. I found myself bobbing my head, drool falling past my lips as my nostrils burned from the cooled air passing through. Carrying the sword in both hands, I was barely able to maintain my jog whilst the same perplexing alerts rang away within my periphery and ears.

 

Alert: Intercept imminent, Seek assistance immediately! 

 

What good does that do me!? For such an unreal thing, you can’t even give me direction? What am I to do? Run until driven to a fruitless stand against someone more powerful than me?!

 

It rang again. 

 

Alert: Friendly party within detection range! Continue heading!

 

Tears began streaming down my face– the sense of desperation and fear intermingled with the pain this body screamed from within my mind. The elevation began to change, the forest floor reaching upward as if for the sky itself. It rose to an extreme degree, yet not so extreme that one couldn't scale it with just their legs if forced to. It was fast approaching, and looking in either direction brought hopelessness as the rise in elevation seemed to be without change in either direction, only varying in severity.

 

C’mon, push!

 

I chided, staring up to the now visible crest of the incline. On my approach, the thickness of the brush obstructing me became only more evident. However, amongst my own heartbeat and the distant echoes of men behind me, what came from over the hill was more welcoming than I could have hoped for in my situation. Fatuous bickering echoed from ahead, four voices by the make of it, with more than enough energy to boot. It was a rough and desperate guess that the group was a mere twice the distance from me as I was from the top of the hill. 

 

Please, God, let me live just some time longer. Let me at the least, comprehend what is happening! Give me the time! Please! 

 

I subconsciously prayed, forcing my way forward as sticks broke, brush cracked, and leaves crunched underfoot. 

 

Crack-picl-crack-rustle

 

I pushed forward, the crest getting closer and closer and closer still. I stumbled, the strange tearing of brush beside me and the sound of air being cut by some unseen force urging me forward as the voices from either direction became louder. 

 

Thmp– whiiiew– thmp

 

I jolted, some unknown instinct urging me forward as the burning sensation in my limbs faded away. 

 

“Ahhh– ahhh, hah, c’mon, just a little further! Just a small ways to– ahhh!”

 

I was there, parting a series of ferns and some sort of sawgrass as I crested the hill. 

 

Whew– thmp

 

“Ah- ahhh!”

 

A sudden impact forced me to tumble forward into another clearing. 

 

The sword–

 

I white-knuckled the object within my grip. Standing shakily, a strange yet familiar sensation struck me. A very sudden cold within the left side of my back and a hot stream of wetness fell from either side of the sensation. 

 

“Heee– wheee–”

 

I forced myself forward, my breath becoming shallow against my control. My sight became strained, a static-like effect of particles within my eyes denoting a lack of blood flow. I tried and willed myself forward as best I could, and with what momentum I had left, I threw myself into the open where I was greeted by four people. I was unable to make them out from here, my hair falling and obstructing my vision from the brush, and the sting of sweat blurring them further. What I was able to identify, however, is that they were very clearly staring at me, their arguing halted in all forms. 

 

“Heell– haaah– haah–”

 

My body collapsed, forcing me to my knees. I was unable to form the words I so desperately tried to scream at that moment. It was then that the cold sensation began to sear through my chest. My breathing became labored more so than before, much more than even physical exhaustion would warrant. With the next labored and weak breath, I coughed up blood, and then failed to breathe further. I stared at the bright red pool in disbelief, even as it flowed from my mouth into the stained dress I wore. I collapsed to my side, trembling uncontrollably as my body instinctively began to curl into the fetal position. There were no further needed signs nor revelation as to why. 

 

Ah.

 

I could only shudder as I attempted to breath, my muscles protesting as my chest rose, yet failed to inflate my lungs. The culprit was revealed as my neck muscles contracted, forcing my gaze to my chest. A sucking, bubbling, chest wound; and from it, the bloodied tip of an arrow protruded just to the left of my heart. The dress was stained beyond all repair, and I was unable to tell if my side was cold, or simply wet with blood. 

 

Can’t– breathe– I think– My lung must be pierced… collapsed. It must be, no other reason for not breathing…

 

I struggled in vain as my chest protested still. 

 

Whoever you were, kid… I'm sorry… sorry you got the same stroke of luck…

 

Over the next few seconds, I could feel my consciousness fading, my eyes struggling to stay open as if the slowly encroaching tunnel vision would fail to obscure them alone. I could, with great clarity, however, hear the sound of someone frantically running up to me. I couldn't help but guess from the random sound of footsteps ‘if it was all of them’?

 

Is it them? From the clearing? The arguing?

 

Someone skidded to a halt next to me, dirt and dust kicked into the air as the person dropped to their knees.

 

Wha? 

 

My eyes drifted, a vague blur was all that I could register. 

 

Cat… ears?

 

My mind questioned, unable to tell if such a sight was due to hallucination. At that point, however, my hearing chose to fail me, my eardrums favoring the weak beating of my heart. Only muffled yells could be heard, unintelligible and frantic, as if I was listening to a discussion from a hundred yards away. My eyes clamped shut, my thoughts fading as if sleep were to take me, a series of alerts rang out once more.

Alert: Aid received, statuses subdued due to injury, skill active– Disguise- lvl 5

 

Race displayed, Higher-demon, overwritten…   …   …

Race displayed, Lower-demon (cover)

Level displayed- 8, overwritten… … …

Level displayed- 4 (cover)

Heightened statuses, subdued

Hidden titles: Concealed

 

End executable, log complete 

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