Creation System: Reborn As A Fantasy Worldsmith

The decapitated head of someone slowly rolled down the street and landed at their feet.

The head was of a woman whose last expressions seemed to be frozen at the time of her death.

Her eyes were hollow yet were opened wide, as though terrified of what he saw in front of her.

And her mouth was fully gape, typical of what one would do when faced with utter shock and fear.

As soon as Lyrian and the others saw this, their expressions became serious. In an instant, their guards went up as they began to examine their surroundings again, but this time in a different sense.

They weren't looking for citizens now, but rather, survivors.

Lyrian took a good look at the decapitated head and noticed a clean cut at the dead woman's neck. 'A person did this... her head wasn't ripped or torn off by some beast.' He mused, as he suddenly sensed the smell of blood in the air.

He closed his eyes and activated Smithing to understand where the smell was coming from.

Just then, far in the distance, he heard an eerily quiet scream that would normally be indistinguishable from the sound of the wind.

As soon as he heard this, his ears perked up, and at that same moment, he sensed a small hint of bloodlust in the distance.

Without hesitation, he clutched his obsidian blade and dashed forward.

"Follow!" He yelled back to the group, and they quickly followed his orders.

"Nova! Stay back! This energy... is too strong." He noticed that the bloodlust that arose was nothing like any creature he had ever faced before. It was fearsome, like a trained killer's aura.

His feet almost turned into a blur as he blitzed through the streets of the city, scanning each and every place for any sign of life.

As he did, he noticed houses filled with corpses. Houses, buildings, and shops. All of them were stuffed with the corpses of villagers.

"No wonder we didn't see them... they were all purposefully hidden within their own homes," Lyrian said as his brows furrowed. 'The smell of these bodies would have stunk up the entire mountain range by now, but it seems they are fresh corpses.'

At that moment, he stepped in a flowing stream of bright red blood down from the inclined street leading higher up the valley. 'Far too fresh...' He mused, quickly turning in his direction and following this stream of blood.

As he did, Lyrian noticed more and more corpses out in the streets. The wounds on their bodies were as though someone cut them mere minutes earlier. Some were even somewhat alive, only to bleed to death not long after.

Seeing all of this left Zyon and Rothis in a state of shock. Zyon felt his stomach extremely disturbed as if he wanted to stop and throw up at that very moment. He couldn't even help but gag.

Children, women, men, elderly, anything you could imagine. They were all ruthlessly slaughtered and thrown to the sides like nothing more than insects.

"Damn it!" Rothis yelled at that moment, furious at what he was seeing. "What kind of cruel fucking animal would do this!?" His eyes seethed with rage.

This wasn't the work of a beast. No buildings were torn, and the only marks on the city people were that of weapons. 'The strikes on the corpses all look to be from a sword... but they aren't clean in any respect. They weren't done by a professional... at least, not a professional that was in a calm state of mind.'

Running up a series of stairs, followed by another slightly sloped path, then another series of stairs--they quickly ran higher up in the city.

The sheer number of corpses didn't decrease but increased as they traveled.

Finally, the line of blood led to a giant estate at the top of the valley, in a flat land that was at the top of a long flight of stairs.

The group nearly slipped in the blood when trying to rush up these stairs, but finally made it to a giant courtyard of a gated estate.

The courtyard was filled with the corpses of guards and men, but Lyrian decided to ignore these people and head straight forward.

Rothis looked at these corpses and couldn't help but feel horrible at the sight of them. He thought there might have been a chance to save them. He didn't know whether to just run right past them because maybe some had a chance of surviving.

They weren't just insects, they were human beings. What if his not stopping to help them was the difference between life and death for an individual?

As these thoughts plagued his mind, Osikae, who was at the flank, noticed Rothis' expression and exclaimed.

"Rothis, calm your mind. Focus on the objective." He exclaimed seriously.

Rothis jammed his eyes shut, and then opened them again, "You're right!" He exclaimed a new look of determination in his eyes.

However, at that moment, a hand grabbed onto his foot. His eyes of determination faded instantly into hollowed eyes of horror.

He came to a sudden halt as he heard a raspy voice say, "P-please... help u-us..."

Rothis breathed shakily as his lower lip quivered and he faced the man at his feet.

"Of course! Stay there! Here, drink this potio--" Rothis was rushing to retrieve a minor healing potion from his vest pocket, when he suddenly felt a hard hit on the back of his neck.

The hit was enough to knock him out. Rothis knew that the minor healing potion would have done nothing, yet he was so flustered in his emotions that he didn't see any other way out.

Out of the kindness of his heart, he gave his potion to the man destined to die...

"Foolish," Osikae said with a cold tone, carrying Rothis on his shoulder. "Instead of trying to revive the dead... we must focus on the survival of the living."