Venturing The Crimson Lands

"AAAAAAAAH"

Altair shouted underneath the mask that Oculo gave him as he violently slashed an orc-like beast which in its stomach produces rotting goblins that are not only nimble but frenzied. Its facial features abhorrent, its crimson red eyes filled with agony and a longing of freedom from its everlasting pain gazed at Altair with hatred and contempt, its nose as long as one of its horns was infested by molds and maggots that are slowly feeding off of the tissue, its rough edged teeth chattering and clicking in pain, its broken husks that are unusually long pierces its own face when it open and close its mouth, the chilling cries it produces and the sight of it never fails to eat away what little of Altair's mental fortitude that is left. Its arms inequal and partially rotting with muscle and fat proportions that provides the bastardous beast with a considerable amount of protection, its guts spilling out as it gives birth to a dozen of nimble devious goblins, its lower body collapsing on its own weight has almost immobilized the creature severely restricting its movement allowing for an easier target, it does not make it any way easier to kill though its force isn't something to be reckoned with as such even Oculo was sent flying by one of its club swings that caught him off guard so Altair has to be patient yet quick to a scrap when killing this beast as its younglings are going straight for him with their claws honed to deeply cut flesh and produce a bacteria in a wound that speeds up decomposing process.

Breathing hoarsely Altair felt exhausting setting in.

'Shit, I am running out of essence, shit, just hold on for a bit longer.'

Whispering under his own breath he took a step back to barely avoid the orc's wild swing, with the amount of visibility that the crimson mist fogged it was almost impossible to detect movement however thanks to the orc's sluggishness Altair is able to roughly memorize its attacking pattern and based his actions on that pattern.

The goblins were the hard part as they were nimble and have movements that are explosive allowing them to close in the distance against their opponent in a matter of seconds it was straightforward and predictable however so parrying their attacks is not impossible by any means but with the fog lessening the visibility it multiplied the difficulty of dealing with the little gremlins and so Altair cannot help but curse under his own breath lifting the zweihander and resting its pommel on his shoulder ready to impale the rotting goblins approaching.

Wielding the sword and severely cleaving his way out of the dangerous situation several amount of goblins were now laying on the ground half-dead but still moving. As tempting as it is to finish the bastards Altair stopped himself from doing so and let the bastards struggle as their amputated limbs continue to bleed out black and putrid blood that is darker than the fog itself. Altair's body shuddered and flinched unable to take any more pain, he fell down to his own knees feeling like every part of his body was amputated and his guts falling out of his own abdomen, he cannot do anything but to endure an amount of pain that no man should ever be put into.

Everything was painful but Altair held on, it's only thanks to Oculo bringing a regeneration stone for the both of them that Altair was able to barely hang on, keeping the stone active in itself required the usage of essence which explains why Altair is running out of it so quickly, as he is constantly shifting the use of his own essence from using [Maelstrom] to activating the regenerative stone to not suffer the same level of mortality that the monsters he's slicing are suffering and even still the pain is unbearable making it seem like dying is the more reasonable path to take, however Altair refuses to back down not until he exacts his revenge on the gods that he hated. Hatred's what keeps him on pushing forward and from backing down, he is determined to end the arrogant deities.

'It will all be worth it...'

Meanwhile Oculo wasn't in any way struggling at all, against the horde of nightmarish demons it looked like it was just a normal day for him taking care of the trash rashly, he made it seem like dispatching of the monsters was a walk in the park when in reality it was just because he's that strong.

His way of dealing with the monsters were not bloody but by no means not brutal or devastating, using his fists to move every monsters that come his way like they are just insignificant ragdolls, his techniques were flawless, devastating and sinisterly adaptive because the rhythm of his attacks is like a water that never stops flowing until it reaches the edge of the waterfall, and the most impressive part was how fast he is moving considering his build and size. Oculo was moving so precisely and quickly that Altair could not even see where he is heading he was only left to witness the brutal and crushing aftermath of his assault. Altair felt his bones pulverized puncturing every single organ he has even the heart but the regenerative stone instantaneously healed it though not taking away all the pain by any means.

Stopping to take a breathe Oculo grabbed a goblin that deviously plotted on clawing his nape by the neck as he immediately snapped it with a lax expression on his face and the goblin became a stream of gray sparks that evaporated in the red mist, both his and Altair's neck cracking and stuck on an unusual position when he did so.

Cracking his own neck to return it from its normal posture Oculo shrugged off the damage like it was nothing. Altair wasn't as ballsy and let the pain-inducing neck snap be healed by the stone.

"Seems like you are getting used to the pain Altair, though your breath is ragged, you still haven't fully adapted to it yet?" Oculo nonchalantly formed a conversation as he one by one crushed the goblins that Altair incapacitated.

Inhaling and exhaling roughly Altair did everything he can to normalize his breathing again, he stared at his bloodied zweihander then down to his glove which were painted by the dark blood of the monsters he just slain.

"You are crazy Oculo, you are still fighting these guys barefist?"

"We have been travelling for like 2 weeks now and you still ain't getting used to it? It is the only way I can use my abilties, such a senile person for someone as young." Oculo responded flicking Altair's face.

Pained and gassed Altair touched his face and could only respond comically.

"Are you dumb?! You explained that you can augment that ability of yours to weapons! WHO IS THE SENILE ONE HERE OLD MAN?!"

"I AM NOT OLD YOU UNGRATEFUL BRAT!"

"NO SHIT OCULO YOU HAVE LIVED HERE FOR GOD KNOWS HOW LONG, HOW COULD YOU NOT BE OLD!?!?"

"OH IS THAT RIGHT?! HOW ABOUT I JUST LEAVE YOU ALONE HERE?!"

The two stared each other down, under their masks comical angry expressions.

Then Oculo let out a hearty laugh.

"Pointless quarrels! Our only soul aphrodisiac in this place of despair."

Altair then used the zweihander as a support to stand up then swung the blade after to remove the fresh yet putrid blood that sticked to the blade.

Looking ahead Altair could only see how malevolent the crimson fog made the distant lands appear to be, it was more chilling now that Altair was getting closer to it and had a somehow better view of it, he could not see it in clarity but his instincts which are telling him to no longer continue is an indication of it alone.

A deafening silence befell the two adventurers as they continued to strive forward to the path that leads to the heaven-reaching mountain summit, their footsteps silently reverberating in the lands that were devoured by the crimson mist.

And so the two warriors continued to pave the way of death to reach their only way of salvation for the many days to come, monsters of similar caliber as the orcs were the only creatures that they came across with luckily. Each monster possesses a distinct horrifying quality that puts Altair's physical capabilities even with the partitions he is using to shame, but in the days to come where Altair found himself face to face with the same monsters he was slowly learning and adapted to their strengths and weaknesses and given more time was capable of weaving set of moves to battle the monsters depending on their distinctive temperaments and the strength they possess. It was difficult but thanks to the repetitive times that Altair was given he was able to battle the monsters and is able to though slow adapt countermeasures which is a pivotal improvement on his part, but Altair is more than sure that these monsters is not the main course that the crimson lands has to offer and that the predators that are on the top of the food chain are still hiding in its dark vicinity. Even with the weeks that have passed he was certain that this is only the beginning and that the worst is yet to come which is precisely why Altair needs to improve on an inhuman pace even if it seems impossible if he ever wanted to survive, no, if he ever hoped to win over the challenge of the gods he spite he has to hone his adaptability and become ultimately versatile, strengthen his self to carve a way of blood that is more crimson than the mist itself, fortify his mentality to become relentless, and sharpen his focus to attain and maintain clarity even in the most chaotic of situations.

Everything was going well, until the moment where he felt that his efforts were gone to waste and a thunderous roar echoed in the crimson valley.