I didn’t waste any more time. On impulse, I leaped toward the nearest pipe of the centipede. My stealth was gone in an instant — I felt the centipede’s gaze fix on me, that vivid red gleam full of hostility. But it was too late for it.
I gripped the hilt of the dagger with both hands, and with a strained yell, I made one final jump straight for its right eye. The blade tore through the membrane of the enormous eyeball, sinking deep into its sensitive flesh as the centipede writhed in agony.
In the next instant, the centipede let out a deafening scream full of torment. Its fangs thrashed violently, trying to slam together, as if seeking to relieve the unbearable pain that consumed it. But with each attempt, a lightning-like jolt ran through its segmented body, causing it to writhe even more in pure suffering.
Unfortunately, my attack hadn’t been stealthy — the moment I jumped toward it, it managed to notice me in time, ruining the chance for a surprise strike. Still, the impact was devastating. There was no denying the damage caused: even without the element of surprise, the hit was brutal.
"Oliver! The other eye!" I shouted with all the strength left in my lungs, my voice hoarse and desperate, echoing through the space.
The next moment, Oliver pulled another arrow from the quiver — there were only two left, including the one he had. Without hesitation, he positioned it on the bow and aimed directly at the centipede’s giant eye.
When he released it, the arrow sliced through the air with a sharp whistle, starting to glow, emitting a bright light that grew stronger as it neared the target. Seconds later, it whizzed by my side, so close I felt the warmth of its light on my face before it embedded itself with surgical precision in the other eye of the centipede.
The centipede shrieked in a high-pitched, grotesque, metallic sound, as its body twisted violently. It thrashed around, trying to throw me off its back with desperate movements, as if trying to rid itself of the burning pain that tormented it from within.
Its head spun erratically, creating the perfect opening. I seized the moment and hurled my dagger with force, while also propelling myself upward.
However, even with its senses impaired, the centipede still kept its eyes turned upward. Its body was rigid, as if paralyzed, and its movements slowed down, becoming almost desperate.
Without hesitation, I used my foot for leverage and stomped down hard on the dagger’s hilt still embedded in its eye. The blade sank deeper into the sensitive flesh, drawing a raspy, distorted sound from the creature.
Its limbs spasmed in uncoordinated jerks, its fangs moved frantically, and finally, after a few agonizing seconds, it let out a final shrill scream before going completely silent.
Seconds later, absolute silence filled the air — only our heavy breathing could be heard, faintly echoing in the dark. Carefully, I slid my hand to the dagger still stuck in the centipede’s eye and yanked it out with a wet snap. That eye had once glowed a vibrant, menacing red, like burning embers constantly on watch.
Now, it was nothing more than a dull, blackened husk, empty, without the slightest trace of life or consciousness. It was as if all the fury and presence of the centipede had vanished with a single blow, leaving behind only a lifeless, soulless body.
My eyes slowly scanned the corridor, first landing on Ethan, who was staring at me, tense. Then, they moved to Alice, visibly shaken, her lips parted as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.
Finally, they returned to Oliver, who was looking directly at me. His face was drenched in sweat, his shoulders sagged with exhaustion, and his ragged breathing made it clear how close to the limit he was. Still, he didn’t look away.
The next moment, without saying a word, I calmly raised my hand and gave a thumbs-up — a simple gesture, almost comical in the face of the tension in the air, but it carried weight.
In that instant, Oliver, Ethan, and Alice collapsed to the ground, their legs giving out as if all their strength had been drained from their bodies. I wasn’t much different — both my female body, Noa, and my male body, Justin, followed suit, collapsing heavily onto the floor.
Both bodies found support in whatever was nearby — a wall, a stone, anything — as we struggled to catch our breath. The air felt thick in our lungs, as though even breathing required more effort than what was left in us.
As I closed my eyes for a brief moment, trying to recover my breath and process everything that had just happened, Ethan’s voice cut through the silence, immediately grabbing the attention of everyone around: “That... definitely... was the craziest thing... I’ve ever done” he said, between ragged breaths, hands resting on his knees and eyes wide, as if he was still trying to process what he had just experienced.
A small smile formed on my lips — and on Noa and Justin’s too — as we heard Ethan’s words. The feeling was shared, I was sure of it. Probably, all of us felt the same silent relief, the same disbelief.
After all, I doubt anyone has been through something remotely like that. Anyway, with the danger finally gone, my attention turned to the translucent screens that appeared before me right after the centipede’s fall. They hovered in the air, like floating windows.
*You killed [Venomous Centipede – lvl 13] – Bonus experience earned for killing an enemy above your level. Experience shared with your group. 32 TP gained*
*DING! The class: [Assassin] reached level 6 – Status points allocated*
*DING! The class: [Assassin] reached level 7 – Status points allocated*
DING! The class: [Assassin] reached level 8 – Status points allocated
A subtle smile formed at the corner of my lips as I observed the level my class had reached. There was something comforting about that number — a small proof that, somehow, I was moving forward.
Honestly, it was still hard to tell whether my progress was slow or impressive compared to others, but that didn’t really matter at the moment. With a suppressed sigh, I pushed my thoughts aside and slid my fingers to open the stats tab, ready to face the fruits of my effort.
Perception: 23 This text is hosted at novel·fire·net
Physical Constitution: 16
However, as I analyzed my current stats, a look of discontent crossed my face — both the feminine and masculine sides, reflecting my ambiguous form. I wasn’t exactly sure why that feeling of discomfort hit me.
Maybe it was because, in the games I used to play, it was common to freely distribute stat points, shaping the character to my liking. Here, everything felt different.
An uncomfortable feeling began to settle in me, as if my progress was too slow. Maybe the near-death experience between the jaws of that colossal centipede made me take reality more seriously.
Of course, I still hadn’t met anyone else to compare my level or skills to, so it was hard to be certain. But still, something inside me whispered that I was falling behind.
Anyway, Oliver, Ethan, Alice, and I stayed seated for several minutes in an almost suffocating silence. The air around us felt heavy, as if the atmosphere itself mirrored our exhaustion. Each of us was completely drained, too tired to even exchange words. The battle hadn’t just worn down our bodies — it had emptied our minds as well, leaving us mentally numb. I could feel the weight of fatigue throbbing through every muscle, as if my legs were made of lead. Oliver, Alice, and Ethan looked just as beaten, and the lack of mana was probably starting to take its toll on them, leaving them even paler and more breathless than usual.
Even though Alice didn’t directly participate in the fight, her contribution was essential. Without her support, I would’ve never been able to approach the centipede without being noticed. Her role, though subtle, was what truly made the final attack possible.
After all, while my [Silent Steps] ability might seem invincible at first glance, it has a simple — but extremely crucial — limitation. The moment I attack, even if only for a brief moment, the ability fades. In other words, I can’t keep it active until the end of the fight. At least, not fully.
Thankfully, this hadn’t been an issue until now. Against the giant rats, for example, this almost imperceptible gap wasn’t enough to put me at risk — my enemies didn’t have time to react.
Before they noticed my presence, it was already too late. Still, this technical flaw in my ability forces me to be cautious. All it takes is an opponent with sharp reflexes to turn this small detail into a death sentence.
Of course, I’m specifically referring to the centipede I encountered earlier. The moment I leaped onto it, almost as I was about to hit, my ability faded, and the centipede, with its eyes mere millimeters away, noticed me immediately.
However, thanks to Alice’s intervention, who had previously paralyzed the centipede, I was able to attack before it had the chance to react. In the end, if it weren’t for the paralysis effect Alice caused, I wouldn’t have been able to do what I did.
Anyway, minutes later, we were all on our feet. To our surprise, everyone seemed visibly more refreshed, as if the exhaustion and terror of the fight against the centipede had been wiped from our memories, almost as if it were nothing but a collective delusion. However, this brief relief quickly faded when we looked at the nearby wall, where the centipede’s body still lay.
As I got lost in thought, staring at the dead centipede, Oliver approached, followed by the others. The silence around us seemed even heavier in light of the strangeness of the moment.
Then Oliver’s voice, firm and sharp like a blade in the silence, broke the stillness and echoed through the somber environment: “Let’s head back to the carriage first. There, we can calmly come up with a better plan for tomorrow”
He paused briefly, casting a sharp look toward the corridors ahead before continuing: “I don’t think it’s wise to wander around here aimlessly... If a centipede that size could come out of the wall, honestly, I don’t even want to imagine what else could pop out from any corner. Plus, we’re exhausted. We need to eat and fully recover before continuing”
For some reason, the moment Oliver mentioned food, my left eye — the one through which I saw as Noa — noticed a slight tremor in Alice. Also, something strange happened: her face seemed unnaturally pale, as if a shadow enveloped it.
Beside Alice, as Noa, I raised an eyebrow, feeling a growing sense of doubt. What the hell caused that reaction in her? The answer to my unease didn’t take long to arrive when Ethan raised his hand.
Scratching the back of his neck with a nervous gesture, Ethan took a step forward, avoiding eye contact with the others. His voice came out hesitant, laden with guilt: “Guys... I’m not exactly sure how to say this, but... the supplies we had... after Noa left, the rats started appearing more frequently. They invaded the train. It all happened so fast. My first instinct was to grab Alice and run to you guys as quickly as I could”
He paused, pressing his lips together, clearly uncomfortable: “So... it’s highly likely that there’s nothing worth going back for. Sorry”
The room fell into an absolute silence after Ethan’s words. Not even the wind dared to interrupt the heavy moment. Everyone seemed lost in their own thoughts about what had happened — or maybe "mourning" was the more appropriate word? It was hard to say.
Ethan and Alice kept their eyes lowered, their faces marked by a silent expression of guilt. But what could they have done differently? If I were in their shoes, I would’ve made the same choice. In the end, my life is worth more than a few extra hours of food. It’s a cruel thought, maybe... but real.
Honestly, I don’t think anyone here blames either of them for what happened. Of course, when I say “the two of them” I’m mostly referring to me and Oliver — since Noa, technically, is me as well.
Anyway, the news we just received confirms what I feared: we’re, in fact, completely out of food. No crumbs, no forgotten pack at the bottom of the backpack.
Panic started to take over my mind like a slow, paralyzing wave. The reality of the supply shortage settled in with a suffocating weight, as if the air around us had grown denser.
And, strangely — or maybe disturbingly — the centipede behind me, which until then had disgusted me with its undulating movements and excessive legs, started to look... almost appetizing. Almost.