Odyssey Of Survival

Nate exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair in frustration as he trudged forward behind the injured man. His patience, which had already been wearing thin, was almost nonexistent at this point. The sun had shifted position in the sky, and his legs ached from the endless walking. The dry wind carried the scent of sand and distant vegetation, but nothing else indicated they were close to their destination.

He narrowed his eyes at the man limping ahead, gripping the spear for support. The guy was moving at a steady pace despite his injury, but Nate had been holding onto a particular grievance for a while now, and he couldn't keep it in any longer.

"I thought you said we'd get there shortly," Nate muttered, irritation lacing his voice. "Then why does it feel like we've been walking forever?"

The man chuckled, his voice light despite his clear exhaustion. "You have no patience, young man," he replied, shifting the spear in his grip as he limped forward. "It is an important attribute you should learn if you want to survive in this place."

Nate rolled his eyes and shook his head. "You're talking to me about patience when we've been walking for hours? If you'd told me from the start that it'd take this long, I wouldn't have complained."

The man only smiled in response, as if enjoying Nate's frustration. Nate sighed heavily, choosing not to continue the argument. Instead, he focused on his surroundings, keeping an eye out for any sudden dangers. He still didn't know much about this land, and if animals were evolving into beasts, then he had no intention of letting his guard down.

His gaze flickered toward the man's injured leg. Despite how pale he had gotten from blood loss, he was still pushing forward without a single complaint. His endurance was impressive. If this guy could last this long with a wound like that, then the people he lived with were probably just as tough.

Then, suddenly, the man came to a stop.

Nate frowned and followed his gaze. They were standing on high ground, and below them, sprawled across the landscape, was a collection of makeshift shelters. The structures were made primarily of stretched fabric, supported by wooden poles, forming a rough but organized settlement. The sight made Nate pause.

He had expected something much more primitive, but these people were clearly more advanced than simple wanderers. As he looked closer, he realized that most of the people below were wearing robes rather than animal hides.

That immediately raised a question in his mind.

He turned toward the man. "If clothes exist, then why are you wearing animal skins?"

The man smirked slightly before replying, "Hunters wear animal skins so we won't be easily spotted. If we wore robes like the others, we'd be seen from miles away."

Nate huffed out a laugh. "Makes sense."

Without another word, he started walking toward the camp. The man, despite his injury, quickly followed, keeping up with Nate's pace.

As they reached the outskirts of the settlement, Nate took in the details of the people. Children ran around, playing with small wooden objects, while women walked between tents, carrying baskets filled with goods. Conversations flowed easily, and the entire place seemed like a functioning community.

But then, as soon as they noticed him, everything stopped.

The once-lively settlement fell into absolute silence as every pair of eyes locked onto him. Whispers spread like wildfire.

Nate could already tell why they were so surprised. Two things made him stand out immediately—his strange clothing and, more importantly, his skin. Unlike the men here, whose bodies were covered in scars from years of hunting and surviving, Nate's skin was smooth, completely unblemished.

He caught snippets of their whispers.

"Who is he?"

"His skin… it's flawless."

"Could he be a prince from one of the great kingdoms?"

That last one caught Nate off guard. His brows lifted slightly as he turned to the man beside him. "So there are kingdoms here?" he asked, genuinely intrigued.

The man didn't get the chance to answer.

Before Nate could process anything else, six men suddenly rushed toward him, surrounding him in a tight formation. They held short, curved blades—identical to the ones carried by the two men Nate had killed earlier. Their expressions were cold, their stances rigid. Continue your journey at My Virtual Library Empire

They pointed their weapons at him, their sharp eyes studying him carefully, as if assessing whether he was a threat or not.

Nate didn't flinch. He stood his ground, his eyes shifting between them, already preparing himself for whatever would happen next.

The injured man took a step forward, his movements slow and strained as he leaned on the spear for support. His expression was firm despite the exhaustion in his eyes.

"Put your weapons away," he ordered, his voice steady but carrying a clear warning.

The six men standing around Nate didn't move. Their curved blades remained raised, their gazes fixed on him with suspicion. The tension in the air thickened.

The man sighed, shifting his grip on the spear. "If you value your lives, I suggest you lower your weapons," he said, his tone sharper this time.

That made them hesitate. Confusion flickered across their faces as they exchanged glances. Eventually, though, they relented. One by one, they lowered their swords, but they didn't step away from Nate. They still had him surrounded, their eyes watching his every move.

A moment of silence passed before one of the men spoke up.

"Where are Sebek and Tati?" he asked, his voice firm, demanding an answer.

The injured man exhaled heavily. His grip on the spear tightened for a moment before he finally answered.

"They're dead."

Gasps erupted from the surrounding people. Murmurs spread like wildfire through the small crowd that had gathered. Some of the men's hands instinctively tightened around their swords.

"Who killed them?" another voice demanded.

The injured man lifted his hand and pointed straight at Nate.

At that moment, he was about to speak—to explain why Nate had killed them—but before he could get another word out, his body suddenly swayed. His eyelids fluttered, and his strength finally gave out.

With a soft thud, he collapsed to the ground, his consciousness slipping away.

Nate barely spared him a glance before shifting his attention back to the men who were now gripping their swords with renewed hostility. Their expressions had darkened, and the air around them burned with the promise of violence.

Murderous intent radiated from them as they slowly raised their weapons again.

Nate exhaled through his nose, rolling up his sleeves as his gaze swept over the men encircling him. A faint smirk pulled at his lips, but his eyes were cold.

"It seems luck isn't on your side today," he said, his voice calm, almost casual. "If only he had explained why I killed them, you wouldn't have made the mistake of drawing your weapons against me a second time." His smirk widened slightly as his muscles tensed. "But now that you have… I'm afraid none of you will be leaving here alive."