Dark Divinity

He lunged forward, trying to anticipate the creature's path, but it darted through the underbrush with such agility that he stumbled, barely catching himself before he fell. The girl's laughter echoed softly behind him.

"They're not like the ones you're used to," she said, her tone teasing yet instructive. "You have to think ahead, predict their moves."

Omen gritted his teeth, frustration mounting. 'Why don't you catch them yourself then, you're hungrier than me' He forced himself to calm down before saying his thoughts aloud, to focus.

He decided to still try his realm's method of hunting rodents. So, he turned to Isolde who stood like a ghost silently behind him still staring into the distance with her dull eyes.

"Do you have a blade with you?" he asked as he focused more on his already biting hunger. The girl stared in his direction before calmly undressing her white blouse, showing her cleavage. Shocked, Omen quickly turned away. What had gotten into her?!

"What are you doing?!" he bellowed in shock, her action had caught him off guard, and he had managed to get a glimpse of her massive pale breast beneath the white dress, and his thoughts were still occupied with that blessed scene.

He felt her gaze on him and heard her reply calmly in her usual serene voice.

"Retrieving my knife, of course," she said like it was the most obvious thing. "I didn't know if I could trust you, but now, I'm too hungry to care."

He turned back towards her, still trying to avoid looking directly at her exposed chest. "Isolde... You could have just told me where the knife was," he said, his voice shaky with a mix of embarrassment and frustration.

Isolde, now holding a small, gleaming blade she had pulled from her clothes, tilted her head slightly. "Where's the fun in that?" she replied, her lips curling into a slight, enigmatic smile.

Omen scoffed and calmly took the knife from her soft hands. The blade's cold steel gleamed ominously under the dim, flickering light of the sun. He noticed her dress was rolled up again, concealing the massive bosom hidden beneath.

Omen prayed she'd last in this place. He knew that if other purgers caught sight of her, there would be no way she could defend herself. With the knife in hand, Omen began his task. He found a few sturdy branches, perfect for makeshift traps, and set to work. The thin vines he found nearby would do well as tripwires.

Once the traps were set, he carefully positioned them close to the hard nuts the squirrels had been foraging for. Satisfied with his work, Omen stood up, wiping sweat from his brow. Not underestimating their intelligence, Omen set more traps around the forage perimeters and close to some trees. For these mundane creatures to have survived so long in this dreadful place, he knew that speed was not the only thing they had on their side.

They were cunning, and so wary of danger. Omen took extra care to conceal his snares, covering them with leaves and dirt, and blending them seamlessly into the environment.

After setting the traps, he turned to Isolde. "Go back to our camp and wait for me there," he instructed, his voice firm but gentle. Isolde nodded, her eyes wide with uncertainty. She clutched her dress tighter around her, giving him one last glance before heading back.

Omen watched her until she was out of sight, anyone would have assumed the girl had perfect eyesight, her ability must be quite powerful indeed, then he turned his attention to the tallest tree in the area. The tree's rough bark scraped against his hands as he climbed, but he ignored the discomfort, focusing solely on reaching the top.

'If only my climbing skills were perfect…', his thought wondered as he climbed higher. Climbing was one of the major skills he had learnt as an assassin.

Once he found a sturdy branch, he settled in, his body blending into the shadows of the canopy. From his vantage point, he had a clear view of the traps below. He could see the small clearing where the squirrels often gathered.

Omen waited patiently, his senses heightened, every muscle in his body tense and ready. As the sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting long shadows across the land, he kept his eyes fixed on the traps below, knowing that their lives depended on his vigilance.

Omen didn't know how long he waited, but from the position of the sun, he could tell it had been a long time. Squatting calmly on the sturdy branch, Omen's mind wandered once more.

'What is the true purpose of all this? Surely it isn't really because we're seen as potential vessels for whatever that entity was?' he pondered as his thoughts circled endlessly, echoing the vast emptiness around him.

Then, breaking the silence, he heard the familiar chitters of the rodents. The sound was faint at first, barely discernible over the rustling leaves and distant howls of the wasteland's other inhabitants. But it grew louder, clearer, as the squirrels approached the foraging area.

Omen gasped as he saw the creature up close. It was enormous, about half a meter tall and 1.5 meters in length. Its fur was a mixture of brown and black, giving it a mottled, almost camouflaged appearance.

'Wo, definitely not your average squirrels',

The most unsettling feature, however, was its three black beady eyes. One on each side of its face and a much smaller white one in the middle of its head.

'Is that how they were able to detect us before we even saw them?' Omen thought, If so, it had to be greatly limited and probably dependent on the wind. Still he needed to be careful. From his position on the tree, the wind was moving in an acceptable direction, not carrying his scent toward the creatures.

The squirrel sniffed the air, its middle eye twitching slightly. Omen held his breath, watching as the creature inched closer to the trap. His mind raced, piecing together their survival strategy.

'If their sensing ability is tied to the wind, I need to remain upwind at all times. Any change could alert them to my presence.'

The creature paused, its middle eye narrowing as if sensing something. Omen's heart pounded in his chest. This was a critical moment. If the trap failed, they would lose a precious opportunity for food and might even alert the squirrels to their tactics.

'Come on,' he silently urged the trap, praying it would hold. The fate of their survival teetered on the edge of this delicate moment.

Omen continued observing the rodent as it neared the trapped bush and sniffed it. That small motion was all it took for him to realize the plan had failed. He had underestimated the creature's intelligence but completely ignored its natural sense of instinct. There was no way it would fall into the trap now—

*Chop.* The squirrel chewed loudly, completely ignoring his thoughts. Omen's eyes widened in disbelief.

'Did I overestimate them or are they just hungry for free food?' he wondered, watching the massive rodent munch on the bait without a care in the world.

In one smooth movement, the vine ensnared the creature as the nut-bait rolled off. The squirrel squealed in shock, having never found itself in such a situation. The other surrounding rodents fled in panic, only to get caught in similar traps. A few managed to escape with their blinding speed, but many were not so fortunate.

Omen had made the traps without considering their height, but thankfully, the proportions of the thin vines covered his errors. As long as the prey was not bigger than the trap itself, capturing them was bound to be easy. He rushed down the tree, his heart pounding as he realized the noise the creatures were generating.

'If this keeps up, it might attract unwanted attention,' he thought, moving swiftly but carefully. The forest was full of dangers, and the sound of distressed animals could draw predators or, worse, other purgers.

He had succeeded in capturing four from the herd, but now faced another issue: where to store the extra rodents? There was no way he'd release the creatures and then hunt them back, now that they'd learned of this new trap development, they'll be sure to get smarter.

"Easy now," Omen muttered, more to himself than the creature.

In one swift, decisive motion, he slit the creature's throat. The screeching stopped abruptly, replaced by the gurgling of its lifeblood.

Then something entirely out of his expectations stunned him.

As he slit the creature's throat, he felt its raw residue energy seeping into him with a faint blue glow, settling into the abyss of his soul. Surprised, he touched himself cautiously, his eyes wide as he looked around. "What just happened?" he pondered, staring at the lifeless creature.

The continuous painful cries of the other rodents snapped him out of his thoughts. He rushed towards them, slitting their throats one by one. Each time, the same thing happened—his body was invaded with a massive flow of energy, causing him to kneel, gasping in pain.

Omen approached the last one, which was screeching loudly in fear. The white eye in its centre was rapidly blinking and shivering, an unsettling sight. He didn't know what it meant but couldn't afford to take any risks. The noise could attract predators or other dangers.

Cautiously, he reached for the struggling creature. Its fur bristled, and it thrashed against the vines binding it. The white eye continued its frantic blinking, almost as if it was trying to communicate something. Omen felt a pang of unease but pushed it aside. Survival was paramount.

The raw energy surged through him, overwhelming his senses and leaving him breathless.

'What the heck was that?' The more rodents he killed, the more powerful he felt. Omen was always aware that he was weak; after all, he was not only the runt of his family, but also the entire empire. It was small and abrupt, but he felt something penetrate his soul, like a grain of sand in an abyssal jar.

"Weird," he thought, but then the sky darkened as something went by.

As if that wasn't enough, he heard a familiar screech. Glancing up, muddled with pain, he saw the giant two-headed bird zooming towards him with astounding speed. Its malicious eyes were locked onto his form, glinting with predatory intent.

And unfortunately for Omen, there was no diversion this time around to deter it.