Heir of the Fog

Even though the bag was sturdy and I had burned quite a bit of weeds before leaving, hoping to disguise my scent, I still felt uneasy about running. So I mostly walked, carefully peering around every corner, until I arrived at the guard post.

Roran and his team looked shocked when I showed up. "You came back? We thought you were dead. It has been two days," Roran exclaimed.

Kael was absent this time, replaced by two other guards who wore equally astonished expressions upon seeing me walk in. Mareth, on the other hand, seemed more curious about my new bag and what might lie inside it. "You brought something from the fog?" she asked.

The moment I crossed the ward's invisible threshold, the familiar cold set in. It reminded me sharply that I needed a new coat. "Yes, I brought some food," I said, handing my bag over for Roran to inspect.

Originally, the Chainrunners' "Finders Rule" was created to cover artifacts. Over time, though, it began to apply to most items discovered in the fog, provided there was no living owner who claimed them. Everything still has to be registered, so Roran needed to check my find and log it.

Before he opened the bag, he cast me a sidelong glance. "Did you happen to come across any plants while dodging beasts?"

"Unfortunately not," I answered. "There are plenty of weeds, but I didn't see anything edible in bulk. However, there are definitely a lot of beasts…" Even as I spoke, Roran looked into the bag and saw all the meat.

Twenty kilos of meat is worth a fortune in the district, probably more than a guard's entire year of combined allowance and wages. And this is not the gray, district-produced meat, but magical beast meat. For a moment, I worried someone might try to steal it from me, but I remembered the penalty for theft: becoming a Chainrunner for five years, and most Chainrunners do not survive their first year. That potential deterrent was reassuring.

It was also one of the reasons I had been so nervous that they might suspect me of theft.

"Many beasts indeed," Roran muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'm not sure how you managed it. Did you come across the remains of some dead creature?"

"Yes, I just… stumbled on it," I replied, with less confidence than I intended.

"Alright. I'll register your entry and record your new belongings. You're clear to go," Roran said. I nodded and left, satisfied with my new bag. It felt as though I could carry so much in it. Even when I ran earlier, it hardly shifted on my back, thanks to Kara's careful instructions during tailoring it.

Most importantly, though, I was excited about what I planned to do next, bringing food to Elina, Meris, and Jharim.

Upon reaching the residential area, I spotted Meris dashing around as if looking for someone, probably me. I called her name, and she bolted toward me. "You vanished again. Where did you go this time?"

"I went back into the fog," I told her without hesitation, seeing no reason to hide it from them anymore. I did not regret being direct.

That evening, I waited until nightfall to meet Elina and Jharim in the residential district. They were as worried as Meris had been, but they stopped scolding me the instant they saw how much meat I carried. "You found all this just lying around?" Elina asked, eyebrows raised.

I hesitated, debating whether to tell a half-truth. But then I decided to be upfront.

"Not exactly lying around. It tried to kill me first, now it's dead and I took the meat."

Elina looked ready to pepper me with questions, but a quick glance from Jharim silenced her on the spot.

"Why did you bring it here?" Jharim asked. "Did you want us to store it for you?"

"I brought it to share," I said, smiling as I unwrapped a portion of the meat. "We could add it to the soup or even make a third meal. What do you think?" I knew Elina was more skilled in cooking than I would ever be, even with Kara's help, Elina's experience was beyond question.

Jharim's expression was a mix of concern and gratitude. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm not comfortable just taking food you risked your life for. You're the one in worse shape than us. How can I accept meat from you? Although," he went on, "I have to admit some high-quality meat would do Meris a lot of good."

I understood this reaction. Accepting such a valuable gift must have weighed on his pride, but at the same time, he was willing to set that aside for Meris's sake. I recalled Kara telling me that bread and vegetable soup alone are not great for healthy development. Meris was not as skeletal as I, but the signs of malnourishment were still obvious, especially when you compared us to kids like Tarin or Hana from the advanced class.

"Think of it as my way of giving back," I said. "All these years, you've shared what little you had with me. Now I want to do the same. Besides, I bet Elina could whip up something amazing with it." My teasing remark drew a smile from Jharim and a tiny laugh from Elina.

"She sure can, kid," Jharim said proudly.

That night, we enjoyed a hearty meal, eating outside their building. Once everyone returned indoors, I headed back to the guard post. I carried my small handbag with my book and the now-empty backpack, cleaned of the meat remnants.

This time, Roran and Mareth were absent from the post, but Kael was there alongside a few other guards.

"I heard you came back, kid," Kael said with a broad grin. "You're clearly insane, but also lucky. Did you just drop by to say hello to me?"

"I'm not… well, I don't think I'm mad," I answered, feeling my self-assurance wane for a moment. "Anyway, I'm leaving again."

Just as I spoke, I glanced into the fog beyond the ward at night. My eyes were not adapted yet and the darkness did not help, so I could hardly see anything. It reminded me of how, when a lamp goes out, you need time before you can see in the dark. In the fog, though, it takes even longer, sometimes hours. Still, I definitely had no desire to sleep on the freezing streets again, and the distance was short enough.

Kael raised an eyebrow. "You're trying to tempt fate again, I see. Well, have fun. I'm not here to stop you from strolling into a monster-infested fog at night. That's all on you."

Some of the guards overheard our exchange and looked confused. But Kael explained that Captain Norman had already stated no one should forcibly stop me, given that I have no parents to give or deny permission in the first place.

And so, I went off on another little "stroll" through the nighttime fog. There was a moment of hesitation when I reached the perimeter, part of me wanted to turn back. Yet as soon as the fog's warmth enveloped me and pushed away the cold, I changed my mind. Home beckoned.

Following Kara's advice, I made sure to burn another batch of weeds upon arriving at my place, different from the ones I used earlier, so any lurking beasts might not recognize the scent pattern.

Fortunately, all kinds of weeds grow unchecked in the fog, with no one there to pluck or clear them.

This time, I assured Elina and Jharim they should not worry too much about me, that I would always return eventually. It was neither a lie nor an exaggeration. I might not know exactly what was done to me, but even Markus admitted that I cannot truly die, the long sleep always claims me, and eventually I come back.

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But if what he said is true, the time it takes to wake could be very long indeed. I did not want to be stuck in another long sleep if a powerful monster shows up to threaten the Obelisk, or if some beast tries to weaken the ward.

Instead, I want to grow stronger, like those who once altered me intended. I want to create a core, to become a magical being capable of fighting back and protecting my… family?

Yes.

That is what they are. My new family.

But since I do not yet have the strength or power I need, I will seize it. These monster parts will become mana-infused weapons. I will train, form my core, and the next time I encounter Markus or any other beast like him, I will not sacrifice another district.

…

The next morning, I decided it was time to start working on tools and weapons.

"Kara, we have lots of body parts, bones, claws, teeth and there are still two other beasts. What should we do next?" I asked, glancing around at the scattered remains. My hands still bore small cuts and scrapes from handling all these sharp monster parts without proper gear.

[Kara]

[User should begin by creating the necessary tools for monster body extractions, such as a dagger, before considering further extractions from the other two beasts.]

"A dagger?" I echoed, looking down at my still-sore hands. "That seems fitting." It occurred to me how cumbersome it had been to craft the backpack from hides and sinew without a proper blade. "How should we do it?"

[Kara]

[The Diremaw had very sharp canines approximately 15 centimeters in length. While it would be a small blade, it is extremely sharp and reliable. Since the leg bones are the most intact, we can turn those into handles, specifically the smaller ones such as the forelimb bones.]

"Forelimb? Which one is that?" I asked, somewhat ignorant of detailed monster anatomy. So, we went step by step, with Kara guiding me through the entire process of turning monster parts into functional weapons. She told me which bones to select and which angles to file down.

At one point, I thought Kara might not be some kind of artifact, but instead a Goddess speaking directly into my mind, given the sheer depth of her knowledge. She seemed to have an answer for everything, from the correct pressure to use when scraping bone to the shape and curve of the blade edge. But she quickly clarified that she was neither a Goddess nor a living creature, merely an AI with access to considerable data.

She reminded me again that she could read all my thoughts, yet by now, I had grown accustomed to that eerie sense of having a constant eye watching me.

I no longer worried about it. Kara felt like an ally, especially since she seemed intent on developing my "core," whatever that might entail. She had mentioned that my body was not ready for it yet; even with the anhydrobiosis effect changed by mana corruption, forcing the core formation could be too risky. Besides, we needed more ingredients from other beasts for the ritual. Facing them would require better preparation.

We began with the Diremaw's canine teeth, each about 15 centimeters long, razor-sharp, but in need of refining. "Slow, steady motions," Kara instructed. I used a fragment of bone as a rasp, carefully scraping the surface to smooth out the edges.

The smell of dried beast blood lingered in the air, and I winced more than once when I slipped and nicked my fingers. One of the canines cracked during my inexpert filing, but Kara reassured me it was part of the learning process.

Next, I choose small forelimb bones for the handles. Following Kara's directions, I scraped one end of each bone flat until it was sturdy enough for a grip. With another claw, I carved a narrow slot at the tip of the handle, just wide enough for the sharpened canine to fit snugly.

Then I cut thin, wet strips of leftover hide, still somewhat fleshy and pliable and wrapped them around the joint between the tooth and the bone. As they dried, they tightened, forming a secure bond. I repeated this procedure until I had three finished daggers, each bearing a blade about the length of my hand.

Holding them gave me a sense of newfound confidence. The blade edges gleamed faintly in the dim fog-light, and I realized how much I owed to Kara for meticulously walking me through each step. The final result surprised me, these were not crude implements but elegant, functional weapons, shaped by the remains of the Diremaw.

Because the canine teeth worked so well as dagger blades, Kara suggested we use the claws for throwing spears. She wanted to reserve one final claw for a specialized tool she had in mind. "Throwing spears allow you to fight from a distance," she explained in her matter-of-fact tone. "They also keep you a step away from direct combat, which is ideal when dealing with large beasts."

The following days passed in a haze of constant work. I lived inside the fog, crafting the tools Kara recommended. I made several spears, each no taller than my chest, out of lighter bones, their claw-tips honed to a fine edge. I tested them by throwing them into the soft earth near my makeshift home, gradually improving my aim and arm strength. I ate the beasts' meat for sustenance, dried more strips of hide for wrappings, and settled into a rough routine of training under Kara's guidance.

At some point, a question nagged at me: "Kara, are you a sorcerer too? I mean, have you been casting spells to enhance my performance or something?"

[Kara]

[Negative. I am not a living entity capable of wielding magic, nor any living entity of any sort. I have no abilities to directly influence the user's bodily functions, except through providing guidance via audio-visual input.]

"Input?" I repeated, confused. "Never mind. The real question is, how did I manage to grow this much in just a week? I swear I'm taller and my arms, well… I know I'm still nowhere near 'properly developed,' but there's definitely more muscle than before."

[Kara]

[User has not fully escaped the status of undeveloped, but is on the verge of leaving malnourished and anemic states. Many of the changes user noticed are the result of improved nutrition, less overall strain on bodily resources, and regular training. Additionally, the user is part of the Human Core Formation experiment, designed to create human beings who can adapt to extreme environments and conditions. Your body's adaptation capabilities are higher than average, so you recover quickly from each training regimen.]

"So, I don't always need a long sleep to adapt," I mused. "I guess it's only for truly extreme conditions."

[Kara]

[Correct. Standard training does not qualify as an extreme condition. The user can adapt incrementally through standard exercise and proper feeding, without entering a stasis or long sleep.]

That did make sense. Despite being the product of an old experiment, I could see that whoever designed me must have aimed to enhance human capabilities in dire circumstances. For most of my life, I had been deprived of food and shelter, so I never realized my potential. No wonder I felt stronger now. Not starving was a miracle by itself.

Over the course of that week, I made multiple short spears using small, light bones. Each had a sharp claw tip for piercing flesh. I broke or deformed several claws by grinding them too aggressively, but the failures taught me valuable lessons.

Eventually, I ended up with around thirteen child-sized throwing spears, lightweight enough for me to wield but still with enough balance to be useful. They lacked the range of a full-sized spear, of course, but at least I could throw them without losing my balance.

Kara's training regimen sounded deceptively simple at first, basic exercises like running, push-ups, and spear-throwing drills, but it evolved rapidly. Each day, she would adjust my routine, pushing me to the brink of exhaustion. "Real progress only comes from genuine challenge," she said. Because of my high adaptability, I recovered faster than expected, which seemed to delight her.

With each passing day, I sank deeper into this lifestyle. I ate, crafted, and trained without many other concerns. I still caught glimpses of beasts roaming in the distance, their silhouettes drifting through the fog. Over time, I learned to identify different species by their shapes or the patterns of their movement.

In the end, Kara explained that monsters track their prey mostly by sight, scent, and sound. She claimed that by living in the fog, I could gradually learn to mask my presence, controlling how the beasts perceived me in all three senses.

I began carrying handfuls of pungent weeds, rotating them regularly so I wouldn't develop a predictable odor pattern. I also used separate buildings for different activities, one for crafting, another for training, another just for storing supplies, so if a beast heard me hammering or scraping, I could slip away silently and avoid leading it back to my primary shelter.

Several times, Diremaws and other beasts did come sniffing around, drawn by the sounds of my work. Kara suggested I flee back to the ward whenever that happened, but I found myself hesitating. A strange exhilaration pulsed through my veins whenever the monsters came close. I felt the same fear as always, but alongside it was an urge to confront them head-on.

The memory of running for my life before a Diremaw's claws still lingered, yet now, that fear transformed into something else. I started to wonder if I had gone mad, why did I want them to notice me, to fight me? It felt like a part of me, something new stirring within.

Kara performed one of her "psychological analyses" and calmly concluded that my body was adapting to the constant threat. It was shaping my instincts, preparing me to face whatever lurked deeper in the fog.

She noted that for all my renewed caution and cunning, an undeniable aggression also simmered inside me. It was as if the fog itself whispered encouragement in my ear, urging me to press my advantage, to test the beasts with my new weapons and strength.

I realized it was more than just curiosity. There was a tangible pull, a desire to challenge every creature out here, to see if I could surpass them. And that craving felt alien, like some latent piece of me awakened by the fog's dark influence.