Chapter 172: The Eyes of Death
The world, which had been a blur of terror and the overwhelming stench of Wolfbane, suddenly sharpened. The crushing, sanity-eroding pheromone was still thick in the air, a foul, musky odor that made his 8-year-old lungs burn. But the Abundance's Blessing talent, already working deep within his biology, began to fight it. It wasn't immunity, but a cold, clear resistance. The panic was suppressed, replaced by a throbbing headache and the cold, adult mind of Orion.
His hand, which had been reaching for his mother's dagger, stabilized for a moment. In that infinitesimal slice of time, his fingers found the hilt.
The Borisin's claw descended.
You didn't try to parry. You didn't try to dodge. You were still on your knees, an 8-year-old child prostrated in his parents' blood. It was the perfect, most pathetic, non-threatening posture.
Pfft!
The sound was shockingly soft. You didn't aim for the Borisin's armored chest or his descending arm. From your kneeling posture, you thrust the small, sharp dagger upwards, your entire body's weight behind it. The blade slid home with no resistance, following a single, spectral black line that your new sight had revealed—a line that led directly up, beneath the Borisin's crotch.
[Inorin's Note: The [Mystic Eyes of Death Perception] allow the user to see the conceptual "Lines of Death" on all things. Cutting these lines results in an unavoidable, conceptual "death" of that object or part.]
"Awooo—!!!"
The Borisin, who had been wearing a smug, cruel sneer just a second before, instantly froze. His entire body locked rigid. His expression twisted from predatory amusement into a mask of pure, uncomprehending agony. He let out a horrifying, high-pitched shriek that sounded nothing like his previous roars, his hands instinctively flying to cover his lower body.
"My… my… my lifeblood!!!"
He crashed to his knees, his weapon clattering to the floor.
This sudden, horrific scene made all the other Borisin freeze. Their mocking laughter died in their throats. Their smiles vanished, replaced by sheer, stunned shock. They stared at you—the child who had been as humble as dust, groveling in his parents' blood—now kneeling with a bloody dagger, his golden eyes as fierce, cold, and empty as a winter wolf's.
You didn't think; your body had already acted. The Efficient Learning talent was processing the flood of new information from your Mystic Eyes at an impossible speed. Lines. They're all weak. Cut the lines.
Holding the dagger, you lunged from your kneeling position. You ignored the Borisin's thick hide, his armor, his muscles. You aimed only for the clearest, thickest black line you could see on the fallen, shrieking Borisin—the one on his neck.
You slashed down fiercely.
There was no resistance. The feeling wasn't like cutting through tough flesh and sinew. It was the effortless, sickeningly smooth sensation of a hot knife slicing through butter. The dagger slid silently along that conceptual black line.
The Borisin's scream abruptly ceased. His massive head, still locked in that rictus of agony, simply... separated. It slid from his shoulders and rolled to the ground with a wet thud, his eyes forever frozen in shock.
"Bastard! How dare you kill our people!"
"Kill that little bastard!"
The surrounding Borisin finally reacted, shaking off their shock and replacing it with pure rage. They roared as they attacked you!
You immediately rolled to dodge, the heavy swing of a war axe shattering the floor where you had just been. In the chaos, a claw managed to slash across your back. Intense, searing pain struck you, and you stumbled. You could feel the hot blood a moment before another Borisin lunged.
You cut his thigh, just a shallow scratch along a line you barely perceived.
"What?!" The Borisin looked at his wound in disbelief. It was only a shallow scratch, which should have healed instantly for his species. But it didn't. The wound not only didn't heal, but it rapidly expanded. A black, necrotic energy spread from the cut, and the flesh around it visibly grayed and died, draining of vitality!
"My leg! What's wrong with my leg?!" he shrieked in terror. In just a few breaths, his entire leg turned into decaying, dead flesh, and he crashed heavily to the ground, his limb useless.
But the wound on your own back... the intense pain was already fading, replaced by a strange, tingling itch. You could feel your flesh knitting itself back together at a visible rate!
[Inorin's Note: [Abundance's Blessing (Purple)] grants powerful self-healing abilities, allowing the user to recover from grievous wounds rapidly.]
This scene stunned all the Borisin. You, for the first time, actively took a deep breath of the Wolfbane-filled air. Strangely, its debilitating, fear-inducing effect was now minimal, reduced to a dull throb in your temples. Something within you had truly awakened. The Mystic Eyes of Death Perception allowed you to see "death," while the Abundance's Blessing allowed your body to quickly adapt and develop resistance to poisons and pheromones!
"How is this possible?!" The Borisin who had wounded you stared in shock. "This kid's recovery ability… is even better than ours…"
You didn't give them time to think. You were small, agile, and now, you were a demon in their eyes. You weaved between their large, clumsy bodies, a small, white-haired wraith in a bloody cabin. You didn't need to strike vital organs. You just needed to touch the lines.
A dagger-point cut a Borisin's ankle; his foot immediately lost all vitality, turning gray and dead, and he collapsed with a howl. Another's arm, raised to strike, was lightly grazed by your dagger. The arm instantly went limp, hanging uselessly at his side, the flesh turning a deathly grey.
Fear, pure and primal, spread among them. This wasn't a fight. It was a dissection.
The gray-furred leader, his one ear torn, finally roared and lunged at you personally, his speed far greater than the others. "Little bastard, don't get too cocky!"
He was too fast; you couldn't completely dodge. His sharp claws left five terrifying, deep wounds across your chest. You only grunted, the pain sharp enough to steal your breath, but you ignored it, knowing you would heal. You used the opening his attack created, trading the blow, and with a backhand strike, your dagger struck true along the thickest, most prominent black line on his neck.
The leader's roar abruptly ceased. He staggered back, covering his neck in shock, but he couldn't stop the conceptual loss of life. "You… what kind of monster are you…?" He crashed to the ground, his reign of terror ended, never understanding what had happened.
The remaining Borisin, seeing their leader dead, his head almost falling from his shoulders, finally broke. Their minds, already strained by the Wolfbane they themselves used, shattered. They turned and fled, scrambling over each other to escape the cabin.
But you didn't let them go. For your parents. For Jiang Li. For survival. You chased them. One by one, you hunted them down in the burning, ruined corridors of the star-skiff. A small, 8-year-old Foxian boy, his white fur stained with his parents' blood and that of their murderers, systematically executing the last of the raiders.
When the last Borisin fell, his back cut open by your dagger, you finally exhausted all your strength. Your head throbbed, a splitting migraine from the strain of using the Mystic Eyes. You knelt in the pool of blood, panting, the adrenaline fading, leaving only bone-deep exhaustion.
[Ding! Successfully annihilated the Borisin squad, Villain Value +500!]
"Bro… Brother…"
Jiang Li's trembling, terrified voice came from behind. You turned, your heart seizing for a moment, afraid of what she would see.
You saw her staring blankly at you, then at the bloody battlefield, her small body trembling. But there was no fear in her eyes. Only worry.
"Brother… you're hurt…" She stumbled towards you, fresh tears streaming down her face, washing away the dirt. She wasn't afraid of the blood, or the bodies. She was only afraid for you.
"It's okay," you forced a smile, your voice hoarse. Your chest wound was already closing, the Abundance's Blessing working overtime. "These injuries will heal soon." You tried to stand, but your legs buckled.
"We… we need to leave here quickly."
You knew there were other Borisin on this ship. This was just one squad. The skiff was lost. You pulled your sister, who was still in a daze, and began the terrifying journey of hiding and dodging through the starship that had become a living hell.
But the ship was completely occupied. Every corridor echoed with the gruff shouts of the raiders. Finally, utterly exhausted, your body screaming from the strain of the powers you had used, you could only take your equally weak sister and blend into another group of captured survivors—a mix of other Foxian crew members and their families, all huddled together in terror.
You lowered your head, reining in all your killing intent, transforming back into that inconspicuous, terrified, broken-backed Foxian cub. You smeared your own healing blood on your face and Jiang Li's, making you both look wounded and pathetic.
Then, you were escorted by the Borisin, pushed and prodded like cargo, onto their massive, brutal-looking warship, bound for an unknown, dark future.