Chapter 11: Riftborn
764 Words
The wind howled over Blackwood's north ridge like a wounded animal. Caleb was standing at the lip of the outcrop, sweat dripping on his forehead despite the cold. The forest below was too still—unnaturally still. Birds were silent. Crickets silent. Even the trees refused to move.
He didn’t like that.
Not only because the system had remained quiet all morning long, but because silence can only have one meaning.
Something had passed through
[System Alert: Rift Signature Detected]
Type: Unknown Variant
Class: Unstable Entity
Location: 2.1km Northwest—Below Ridge Fault
Instability Surge Detected. Risk of Exposure: Moderate.
Recommend: Engage with caution. Absorption Level: Mid-level.
He never asked what kind of Rift monster it was. The system did not inform him of the specifics unless the system desired him to learn the hard way.
"Normal," Caleb muttered to himself.
He rushed into the pine cover, sticking close to the pines. His every step cracked softly underfoot, muffled by the brittle layer of dead pine needles. His muscles coiled hard as wires bent to spring into action. Every step vibrated with adrenaline through his bloodstream like fire.
The smell hit him first. Sulfur. And wet soil. Like something had clawed its way up from the earth and hadn't had a chance to dry.
Then he heard it.
Breathing
But it wasn’t human. It clicked and rustled like bone grinding on a rock. Caleb knelt low, crawling down the slope before the ravine came into view.
It was within the hollow.
It was roughly human-shaped, but hunched, twitching. Its arms and legs were too long. Its skin rippled like a mirage, changing colors to blend with the rock and bark it stood among. It was clocked in the scent of the Veil—unnatural, wrong, and distorted.
[Target Identified: Riftborn Stalker]
Class: Tier-2 Unstable Variant
Traits: Adaptive Camouflage, Spinal Lash, Essence Corruption
Estimated Absorption: 35–50 Lunar Points
Risk Level: High
[Note: Riftborn variants are not native of this world. Prolonged exposure may impact sanity. Proceed with caution.]
Caleb narrowed his eyes. "Perfect."
He moved fast. In a flash along the ridge.
The creature whirled—but too late. Caleb struck first, coming in low, his foot crashing into its back. The Stalker howled, somersaulting through the dirt. It rolled once, then whirled up, its arm swirling out with a jagged point.
Caleb dodged, the tip slicing across his shoulder.
The pain arrived a second later. Searing agony like fire.
[Wound Registered: Minor Laceration]
Status: No infection. Adrenaline buff active.
Bloodlust: 84% – Stable under pressure.
He bellowed, claws extending, eyes burning with moonlight. He swung hard, slashing across the beast's chest. Black fluid welled up from the wound, bubbling against the rock.
The Stalker lunged forward—open jaws, spitting corrupted essence.
Caleb braced as the blast hit him in the center of the chest. It was not heat—a cold. Rot. His system flared to counter it.
[System Countermeasure: Lunar Purge Activated]
Contamination Cleared
Vitality Energized
+2 Resilience
Caleb grunted, smoke rising from his skin. He charged forward, tackling the beast with him down the slope. They rolled, and he was on top, claws digging into the neck of the Riftborn.
One final snap—and it no longer moved.
The body radiated, and then turned to ash.
The cold silence continued.
Then ---
[Essence Absorbed: 45 Lunar Points]
+5 Strength
+4 Instinct
+1 Skill Unlock: Rift Pulse (Lv. 1)
Bloodlust Rising: 87%
Status: Aggression spiking. Recommended withdrawal or grounding technique.
Caleb backed away, panting, his heart racing.
His body needed more.
Neither sleep nor food.
All his body needed was violence.
He clenched his fists and took deep breaths, feeling the cold cut through the mist. He braced himself against a tree trunk and calmed his shaking hands. He had to stay in control. Because others might walk by. He was not a beast.
Not yet.
[Lunar Ascendant Status Update]
Strength: 34
Agility: 26
Instinct: 22
Resilience: 23
New Skill: Rift Pulse (Lv. 1)
— Unleash a short-range burst of corrupted essence, destabilizing low-tier Rift creatures and stunning others for 1.5 seconds.
Bloodlust: 87%
Mental Strain: Moderate
Status: Recovering
He limped back to his cabin.
But while he was crossing the creek, he saw it.
A smear of footprints.
Not Riftborn. Not wolf. And not even human in the normal sense.
Too clean. Too staged.
He pursued them for just a few meters before they disappeared.
Disappeared into thin air.
Except for one thing.
A single mark scratched into the bark of the pine.
A perfect crescent moon--carved upside-down.
- Writer
