Extra Borne: Transmigrated Into A System Apocalypse Soulsborne Novel-Chapter 46 - 44: Grieving Plains

Drops of black muddy battered rain pitter pattered from the ashen-gray sky, each droplet thick and heavy as it hit my bare skin. The air smelled of decay and wet earth, sharp enough to sting the back of my throat hard. Above me, multicolored lightning cracked in chaotic bursts, streaks of yellow, white, and blood-red splitting the ashen gray sky in jagged scars. The thunder that followed was deafening, reverberating through the vast emptiness of the plains around me, a constant reminder of how unforgiving this land had become.

The grassy plains of Ithelvaire stretched out before me, a desolate expanse that seemed to mirror the despair etched into the very laws of this world. It was said that this place had once been thriving, a haven of green and life. But now, as I gazed upon the brittle, ash-like grass swaying in the phantom wind, I couldn’t help but wonder how such beauty could have turned into this desolate land.

The ground beneath my boots felt wet, crunching faintly with every step I took. The once-green grass was now gray and lifeless, its edges jagged, rough and sharp like broken glass. There was no vibrance here... only the haunting echoes of what might have been.

After what seems to be hours of walking, I finally reached the heart of the grassy plains. This is where the dangers will begin.

I clenched my fist, tightening my grip on the Lantern of Aureal, its faint golden glow casting eerie shadows that danced across the dying grass. The light felt warm, almost comforting, but it wasn’t enough to dispel the creeping unease that coiled in my chest.

The further I walked, the taller the grass grew, its edges turning razor-sharp. A stray blade sliced against my arm, drawing a thin line of red ichor that dripped onto the black muddy soil, staining it a deeper black. I hissed through my teeth, holding the lantern higher.

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"This grass is dangerous," I muttered under my breath, a bitter edge to my voice. It wasn’t just the terrain... it was everything about this place. It felt alive in the worst way possible, as if the land itself was watching, waiting.

I began reviewing my plan to hunt the Roamers.

Firstly, mist clones were my thought... a way to distract the Roamers, to divide its focus. But then I remembered Geralda’s warning:

"They hunt intelligently, not with mindless instinct. Their senses are very sharp.. sharp enough to detect even the faintest breath or movement. Illusions won’t work. Cloaking won’t work. Decoys won’t work. If they catch your scent, there’s no hiding."

I shook my head, banishing the thought. Mist clones wouldn’t help me here, they will only turn the tides against me.

The Roamers abilities raced through my mind like a grim checklist. The blue glowing eyes.. avoid their gaze at all costs, if not it’ll burn you from existence, you will seized to exist.

The tail... deadly poisonous venom capable of piercing through any forms of armors, defenses, soul, and spirit alike. One strike could unravel me entirely. There was no clever countermeasure for that; the only solution was not to get hit.

And then there was the poison the tail brings. Hallucinations that could drive a person to pure madness, forcing them to claw at their own mind just to escape. The mist could shield me from many things, but madness wasn’t one of them... not yet.

My thoughts began to darkened as I trudged forward, the ash gray grass whispering against my boots like ghostly fingers. The air felt more heavier here, pressing down on my shoulders like an unseen weight,

Then I realized that I wasn’t just walking through the grassy plains anymore.. I was sinking deep into them.

At first, it was subtle.. almost too silent. The dull grieving ache in my chest, the weight behind my eyes. Then the whispers started. Thoughts that weren’t my own, slow and mournful. Grief for things I’d never lost.

I shook my head, trying to clear the grieving fog settling over my mind. "Focus," I told myself, gripping the Lantern of Aureal tighter.

But the ash grass, sharp and tall, seemed to resist me, wrapping tighter with every step. Blades that had only brushed against me before now lashed out aggressively, slicing across my arms and legs as I pushed forward.

Whip!

A blade of ash tall grass lashed across my forearm, curling around it like a snake.

Whip!

Another coiled around my other arm, its grip unrelenting.

Whip! Whip!

My legs buckled as the ash grass tightened around them, binding me in place. I bit back a curse, struggling against the bonds, but the more I moved, the deeper and harder they cut.

I tried to dematerialize into mist, to slip through the unrelenting bindings, but nothing happened.. not even a flinch. The ash tall grass held fast, its touch cold, grieving and unyielding.

"Damn it, Damn it." I muttered, leaning forward to bite through the strand around my left arm. My teeth sank into it deep, tearing the brittle dark fiber apart...

And then the ash tall grass bled.

Dark, viscous liquid seeped from the torn strand, staining my lips and chin. Then slowly, the sound of a grieving weep followed, soft at first, like a distant silent echo. But it grew louder and louder, swelling around me until it was nearly impossible to ignore.

The grass was alive...

"Help us…"

The voices came in clear unison, small and desperate, rising slowly from the grass itself. The sobbing grew louder, more insistent, as if the very grassy plains were crying out in pain.

I froze, the weight of their voices pressing down on me like a tide in my mind making me unable to think. The ash grass tightened its grip, not in malice, but in anguish and grief, as though it feared being left behind again.

"Help us…"

Their pleas echoed in my mind, sharp.. deadly and unrelenting, drowning out all else.