Reincarnated as an Apocalyptic Catalyst-Chapter 107: Aftermath of the Behemoth

I woke up absolutely exhausted. I knew that my body had recovered to an extent, but overall, I felt like absolute shit. Do you know that feeling when you take a quick nap after being dead tired? Well it was like that, except instead of a comfy bed, I slept on the floor and feared the wrath of the reaper lingering above me like some monster was going to devastate all of my friends and fellow parasites in a horrible death, and on top of that, I simply didn’t have a chance to dream or enjoy my sleep.

The cellar was still dim, the weak morning light barely filtering through the cracks in the ruined ceiling. My back ached from laying on the stone floor all night, and my arms were stiff, but considering we had spent the night cowering under a walking natural disaster, I’d say we got off easy.

Some of us had managed to sleep. Vance, naturally, had passed out first, his sword in his lap like a lover he refused to part with. To this day, I still wonder where I went wrong with him. I admired his love of combat, but holy shit, he needed to get with a woman or that sword would end up–well, I guess it didn’t matter where it ended up.

Nythera had curled up like a cat, wrapped in her cloak, still gripping her staff even in sleep. Ronan, on the other hand, had done that unnerving thing where he sat so still he looked dead. I still wasn’t convinced he needed sleep, or if he just shut down like a machine on standby. To be fair, I felt the same way about myself. As if sleeping was a side thought that I could brush aside.

I’d rested, sure, but actual sleep? Not so much, I wasn’t even sure I needed sleep anymore. Maybe it was just an illusion, something I forced on myself out of habit, because that’s what humans did. Every time I closed my eyes, my body thrummed with an unnatural energy, like some part of me was always awake–watching, waiting.

I wasn’t human anymore, after all, still, sleep or no sleep, morning had come.

Vance grunted as he stretched, rolling his neck with an audible pop. "Well, that sucked."

I scoffed, running a hand through my hair. "Oh, come on. This was the best accommodation I’ve had in weeks. Five-star cellar, excellent ambiance, two out of five, wouldn’t change a thing."

Vance snorted. "Yeah? Well, remind me never to let you pick the inns."

I pipped up, needing to take this opportunity to remind him, "Didn’t you find this place?"

He scoffed but refused to indulge in my bullshit, which I guess was fine, as long as I had the last word.

Nythera stirred, groggy and slow, rubbing her eyes before blinking up at us. For a moment, she looked confused—like she’d forgotten where we were, what had happened. Then her eyes flicked to the ceiling, to the cracks where dust still clung from last night’s nightmare, and her whole body went rigid.

Right. No forgetting that. For her in particular, last night was a living hell, so I didn’t blame her fear.

I pushed myself to my feet, stretching out the stiffness in my limbs before glancing toward the door. "Alright. Are we hiding out here forever, or are we actually going to see what kind of apocalypse is waiting for us outside?"

Nythera hesitated, gripping her staff a little tighter. "Do we have to?"

"Yes."

Vance sighed, standing up as well. "Much as I’d love to stay here till we rot, we need to move. Supplies won’t last forever."

Nythera didn’t argue, but she didn’t look thrilled about it either. Not that I blamed her.

Last night, something had passed over us, something huge, something that had made the earth shake like it was alive. And now we had to step back out into its domain.

"Just let me grab a few essentials..." I muttered as I shoved several bottles of booze into my bags of holding, not ignoring the fact that even Ronan was doing the same, though he spent a little bit more effort looking as though he was gathering more useful resources to bring with us. Even Nythera managed to snag a couple of her favorite bottles to put in the bag of holding I gave her. Unfortunately, Vance was a wuss and had no concept of priorities, focusing rather on silly things like food and water. Whatever Vance.

I moved to the cellar door, placing a hand against it, listening, but there was nothing. No undead groaning. No shambling footsteps. It was too quiet, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. The fewer undead, the better chance we had to make a few miles.

I frowned. "Either that big bastard trampled over all the undead, or that monster wasn’t even the biggest bad out here." It was disturbing to imagine that something more deadly existed, but this was a dungeon, and the further we went, the stronger our enemies would be–it was basic dungeon rules. Of course, this dungeon was a little less than what I had imagined, far less than what I had experienced in video games. We were in a free-for-all sandbox dungeon that made the rules as it went.

Vance didn’t look reassured. "I’m really hoping it’s the first one."

Nythera muttered a prayer under her breath, I couldn’t hear which one honestly, but it wasn’t the worst idea. If I believed in any gods, I would offer a prayer as well. Unfortunately, the only gods I knew were three assholes that hated me–for good reason, if I thought about it, but I wouldn’t do that, it would counter all the spite I had within me–, and the other one... If she even was a true god, was a super manipulative bitch that was more likely to curse me at this point than other any further boons.

I pushed the hatch open slowly, peering out into the main floor of the tavern, or inn, or bar... Whatever it was. Morning light cut through the dust-filled air, illuminating the destruction. Buildings crumbled where the giant had passed, deep craters marking its path. Some of the undead that had been out during the night were now nothing more than smears on the ground, crushed under its titanic weight.

Yeah. I wasn’t feeling great about stepping into that mess, but we didn’t have a choice.

"Alright," I muttered. "Let’s see how screwed we are."

As we slowly made our way out of the cellar, it felt like we were small rodents scurrying out of our burrow into an open field. There could be bounties in any structure, but there were also predators quite literally everywhere. Still, sitting in a cellar waiting for the next disaster to stomp its way through was just as deadly, especially combined with the threat of gradual starvation or alcohol poisoning.

I slowly made my way to an opening–in the form of a broken window near the entrance of the tavern–and peeked outside carefully. I expected a lot more movement, but the streets were empty, like truly empty. There wasn’t a single sign of the undead shambling about, which was unnerving, to say the least. I wondered exactly what had happened–did the zombies move on, were they compelled to follow that behemoth as it strode forward in search of us? Or was this simply another thing we didn’t understand, as we had only been here for a coupl of days. For all we knew, they left entire sections alone for weeks at a time.

I took a slow breath, scanning the street as my boots crunched against shattered glass. The morning sun didn’t do much to brighten things—not when the air was still thick with dust from whatever wicked corruption had passed through last night. As far as I could see, the wreckage stretched for miles.

Entire structures had collapsed where the giant had walked, leaving behind deep, unnatural craters that looked like the place had been bombarded with artillery. The stone was split, buildings leaned at impossible angles, and somewhere in the distance, a fierce gust of wind sent a pile of bones tumbling down the side of a ruined tower.

"Yeah, uh..." Vance muttered, surveying the damage. "Remind me never to piss off something that can do that by walking."

Nythera shivered, gripping her staff a little tighter. "How does something even exist at that size? That shouldn’t be possible."

Ronan, ever the buzzkill, answered in that eerily calm monotone of his. "It is not alive. It does not obey your rules. It is likely an amalgamation of multiple undead creatures, otherwise, it is was simply willed into existence by a dark and unforgiving god."

Nythera shot him a glare. "Yeah... Probably those things..."

I sighed, rubbing my shoulder, right where it branched off to my neck, a sore spot that had been giving me no shortage of pains last night. No point in standing around. If anything had survived that thing’s rampage, it was probably lurking in some shadows. Unless it was more deadly than what we faced in the tower, we could probably handle it–otherwise, we merely needed to keep an eye out and avoid any ambushes.

"Alright, let’s keep it quiet," I muttered, stepping over the remains of what had once been a doorway. "No loud noises, no sudden movements, and if you see something moving that’s bigger than a house? Maybe don’t make eye contact."

Vance scoffed. "What do you think I’m gonna do, challenge it to a duel?"

"I would be victorious," Ronan pointed out, as though it were an indisputable fact.

Follow current novℯls on f(r)eewebnov𝒆l