Chapter 67: Metamorphisis

He’d already made the mistake of abandoning someone when he’d run away from Dita, along with all the guilt that came with it. He wasn’t going to do it again.

Well, even if he changed his mind and tried to run, it was much too late.

’Why does the world feel... slow?’

His eyes flicked up, finding the archer looking down at him, his bow angled toward his neck.

Although Peace was still undoubtedly suffering from his debuff, he felt stronger than ever.

Zipping around to the other side of the trunk and dropping his sword, Peace slammed his hand against the bark. His nails, having pierced the cloth fingertips of his gauntlet, sank into the wood along their clawed outlines almost as easily as a knife cutting through bread.

Although the gauntlets weren’t designed to accommodate the transformation, Peace managed to secure his grip on the tree, then pulled, hoisting himself upward.

Using mostly his upper body, with his soles pressed against the trunk, Peace began to scale the tree at an astonishing speed.

By the time the archer found a new perch that gave him a clear shot, Peace had already reached him.

The archer released his arrow as Peace leapt toward him.

In horror, the archer watched as Peace anticipated its trajectory, twisting his arm just enough for the metal plating of his gauntlet to deflect the arrow.

Startled, the man screeched:

"The hell?!"

The archer tried to leap away, only for Peace to latch onto the bough and begin shaking it wildly.

A strange dance began, with Peace hanging from the bough by one hand, repeatedly reaching for the archer’s ankle, while the archer scrambled to maintain his footing long enough to loose another arrow.

However...

Amid all the movement, Peace’s hood flew off, revealing his face in full.

The archer dropped the arrow he was about to fire, screaming:

"Fu-aharagh! G-get away!"

A breath later, a familiar white light began emanating from his hand. He had the same Resonance as Dita.

’Ah—’

A blinding flash erupted from the archer’s hand. A ball of condensed wind smashed straight into Peace’s face.

The impact itself did no damage, but the force sent Peace hurtling toward the ground.

The archer wasn’t faring much better.

The Resonance from the Venti was a disengagement tool meant to propel the user away from their target...

And with Peace directly beneath him, the archer had propelled himself in the opposite direction.

Straight toward the melee between Ralph’s party and the other attackers.

Peace hit the ground first, having been launched straight down. A horrific snap sounded from his ankle.

’Geruh!’

[You’re bleeding!]

He’d received no notification that his health had dipped below half, but looking down, he could easily tell what had happened. His ankle had snapped, and blood was seeping into his boot, the bone having broken through the skin.

’Damn it hurts...’

Despite the blazing pain, Peace looked up to watch as the archer plummeted toward the ground... right beneath Volkar’s foot.

"No—!"

Without hesitation, Volkar raised his gigantic foot, then brought it crashing down on the back of the archer’s head.

’Geruh!’

The archer’s head slammed into the dirt, leaving an indentation. But Volkar continued pressing down, and the man’s skull began to give way beneath his weight.

One of the other assailants tried to knock Volkar off balance, but Maura quickly intercepted him.

The man, a swordsman, screamed as he stumbled backward.

"You bastard!"

Ralph, fending off two men at once, shouted over his shoulder:

"That voice! I knew it! Drathar, was this seriously your plan?!"

The swordsman screamed back, his voice shaky:

"Shut up!"

[You have slain a Tier-8 Human, Hugh Plaser]

[+5 EXP]

[Your rank has increased!]

[Rank: F ? E]

[Your body is evolving...]

As if some ghost had taken an interest in his body, Peace felt spectral hands tracing his skin and prodding his bones.

The gentle caresses quickly morphed into violent grips.

"A-aragh! I-it hurts!"

He wasn’t even allowed to process his involvement in a murder before the bone in his ankle suddenly snapped back into place. His flesh soon closed over it.

But it was more than just his ankle being healed...

All of his bones felt like they were being crushed together, folded and compressed as though they were being reforged into steel.

His skin was becoming tougher...

Much tougher than the soft skin of an elf was ever supposed to be naturally.

’Blegh!’

He began spitting up blood, despite not having suffered any blow that could have caused internal damage.

’The hell is happening to me?!’

He’d heard the voice in his head speak of evolution...

Was evolution supposed to be this gut-churning and violent?!

Before he knew it, Peace had completely lost focus on the battle, vomiting uncontrollably as the world began to spin.

Round and round, until suddenly, everything snapped into sharp focus.

At the same time, the strange sensations ceased, and the pain vanished.

There was no more bleeding...

And his body was in tip-top shape.

Sitting up without using his hands, Peace held up his arms and turned his palms over.

’What... was that?!’

He was thankful he’d been healed, but the agony of evolution was absolutely egregious.

’Wait...’

Ignoring the bloody skirmish unfolding only thirty or so meters away, Peace lifted up his shirt.

’Abs...?’

They weren’t the most defined or toned, but they were most definitely there.

’My lardass has abs?!’

His biceps and triceps also seemed a little bigger. A little.

Peace hadn’t exactly cared for muscles before, but seeing them on himself...

’Volkar has a point... muscles!’

And all it had taken was the feeling of having his body ripped apart and remade!

A wry smile on his face, Peace finally stood.

Seeing as the ambushers hadn’t fled, they clearly still believed they had the upper hand. And, well... they did.

Ralph’s armor was dented all over and his tower shield had been taken from him. Volkar’s body was littered with deep cuts. Maura seemed to be in good condition. Yulis, on the other hand, had taken quite the hit to the head from a mace and lay unconscious, shoulder to shoulder with the dead archer.

’Alright...’

His body still under the effects of Terror, Peace stalked out from the shrubbery and toward the fight.

Immediately, the four remaining assailants spotted Peace and began to quake in fear.

Hooked claws, glowing red eyes, white hair...

The one wielding a mace backed away, raising a trembling finger toward Peace.

"A... a r-remnant?"