Extra Borne: Transmigrated Into A System Apocalypse Soulsborne Novel-Chapter 47 - 45: Unrelenting Grief

"Help us…"

The words echoed endlessly, weaving through my thoughts like threads of despair. Their cries weren’t just sounds... they were emotions, raw and overwhelming, invading my mind. Agony gripped me, a weight dragging me down into the depths of their grief.

I felt despair, its claws tearing at my resolve. I felt sorrow, an unbearable ache for losses I didn’t even understand. My chest tightened as the tide of emotion swelled within me, and for a moment, I almost gave in.

What was the point of fighting anymore? Living felt meaningless. Maybe it would be better to just let go…

A sudden crack of multicolored lightning split the ashen-gray sky, the deafening boom snapping me back to reality. I blinked, my senses sharpening again. The acrid smell of muddy rain and scorched air filled my nostrils, grounding me in the present.

I looked down at my body and saw the ash grass creeping higher, its sharp edges biting into my skin, drawing thin streams of blood that mingled with the black rain. It wasn’t just wrapping around me... it was devouring me.

Gritting my teeth, I forced myself to move. My muscles screamed in protest, but I leaned forward, bringing my mouth to the nearest strand. It tasted of rust and decay, the sharp edges slicing into my lips and gums as I bit down. Blood filled my mouth, both mine and theirs, but I didn’t stop. I tore through the grass strand with a desperate growl, spitting it out as my left hand came free.

Without wasting a second, I materialized one of my dual daggers. The blade shimmered with a faint orange glow, a welcome warmth amidst the cold despair. I swung it fiercely, severing the strands binding my other hand and legs. The grass recoiled slightly, but more strands lunged toward me, relentless in their grasp.

I fell to the muddy ground, my body aching from the countless cuts etched into my flesh. Every movement sent a jolt of pain through me, but there was no time to rest.

The grass surged forward again, driven by its unending grief.

"Damn it!" I hissed, gripping my dagger tightly.

Slash! Slash! Slash!

I cut through the advancing blades of grass, their dark ichor splattering onto my arms and chest. The blood seeped into the black mud, staining it further, mixing with the unrelenting rain that poured from the sky.

These weren’t just plants. They were more than that... something far worse. The truth struck me like a blow to the chest as I fought to keep moving.

These grasses weren’t natural. They were alive.

"The citizens of Ithelvaire…" I muttered under my breath, my voice raw and strained.

Those who hadn’t become Forsaken, lost to madness and corruption. Instead, their souls had become trapped, bound to these lifeless plains. The grass wasn’t just grass... it was them. Their grief, their despair, their eternal agony. Every strand was a fragment of a lost soul, mourning a life it could no longer live.

The realization chilled me to my core, but I couldn’t afford to stop.

"Keep moving," I told myself, my voice barely audible over the sobbing grass.

I slashed and cut my way forward, the dagger slicing through the strands with each swing. The tall blades blocked my vision, their height and density turning the world around me into a suffocating maze.

Slash! Slash!

Every step was a struggle. The grass lashed out with razor-sharp speed, leaving fresh wounds on my arms and legs. Their cries grew louder, more desperate, as if they knew I was trying to escape.

Finally, the ground beneath me shifted.

It happened so suddenly I didn’t have time to react. My foot caught on something, and I stumbled forward, the dagger slipping from my hand and dematerializing in a faint glow.

The world tilted as I fell, the grass vanishing from sight.

I tumbled down a slope, the muddy ground slick beneath me. My body rolled uncontrollably, pain flaring with each impact. When I finally came to a stop, I was lying face-down in thick, black mud.

Groaning, I pushed myself onto my hands and knees. The mud clung to my skin, cold and sticky, as if trying to pull me back down. I took a deep breath, the air heavier here, laden with the metallic tang of blood.

I looked up and froze.

The ground here was darker, the mud tinted a deep, ominous red. It wasn’t natural... it was as if the very earth had been soaked in blood, its essence corrupted beyond recognition.

Above me, the sky had deepened into a near-impenetrable black, the multicolored lightning striking with even greater ferocity. Streaks of red, white, and yellow lit up the oppressive darkness, each bolt accompanied by a deafening boom that shook the ground beneath me.

The muddy battered rain continued to fall, its droplets heavier and louder, battering against my skin like tiny hammers. The sound was deafening here, drowning out everything else.

I had reached the place.

The place where I would hunt.

I gritted my teeth and reached for the Lantern of Aureal, its golden glow still steady despite the chaos around me. The warmth of its light steadied my trembling hands as I rose to my feet, every muscle in my body screaming in protest.

And then, from behind me, I heard it.

A growl. Deep, guttural, and filled with menace.

I froze, the weight of the moment pressing down on me like a physical force.

A Roamer had found me.

***

The growl rumbled through the heavy air, a guttural sound that sent a shiver crawling up my spine. My chest tightened, every muscle in my body locking in place. I didn’t finish standing. I didn’t turn. I didn’t breathe. I just froze there... unmoving

In the silence, I prayed the Roamer would pass, that it would lose interest, mistake my stillness for emptiness.

The sound of its breath filled the space around me, heavy and deliberate. It moved in slow, calm steps, its presence pressing against me like a crushing weight. The Lantern of Aureal in my hand shone faintly, its protective aura masking my presence, but I wasn’t sure it would be enough. Roamers were far too cunning for mere tricks of light.

I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn’t risk looking at it. Eye contact would burn me out of existence; I knew that much. The creature’s gaze was a weapon, one I wasn’t prepared to face.

Its breath drew closer.

Every nerve in my body screamed for air, but I held my breath. My lungs burned, but I refused to give it even the faintest whisper of sound. What if the Lantern’s protection failed? What if the creature could still sense the faintest ripple of movement in the air? I couldn’t take that chance.

The rain continued its relentless assault, the black droplets mixing with the mud at my feet. The sky above cracked with multicolored lightning, the streaks of yellow, red, and white illuminating the desolate landscape with brief, violent flashes. Each boom echoed in my ears, but I didn’t flinch.

I waited.

Seconds stretched into minutes, each one an eternity of silence and tension. The Roamer lingered, its breath slow and deliberate as if savoring the hunt.

Finally, it moved. The sound of its footsteps faded, the pressure in the air easing slightly. I didn’t dare move, not yet. Roamers were hunters, patient and intelligent. It could be feigning retreat, waiting for me to reveal myself.

I counted the beats of my heart, slow and deliberate. The minutes crawled by, each one heavier than the last. Finally, when I could no longer hear the creature, I exhaled slowly, letting the breath escape my lips in the faintest whisper.

I straightened cautiously, my body stiff and aching from the tension. The rain continued to fall, soaking through my clothes and plastering my hair to my face. The Lantern’s glow flickered faintly, its light a small comfort in the oppressive gloom.

Then I heard it.

A growl.

It was low and intentional, vibrating through the air. My blood turned to ice.

I didn’t turn. I didn’t need to.

The Roamer hadn’t left. It had been waiting all along, watching, its patience outlasting my caution.

It knew I was here.

My legs moved before my mind could catch up, instinct taking over. I ran, the mud sucking at my boots as I sprinted forward. The Roamer’s footsteps thundered behind me, each one a seismic tremor that shook the ground. Its growl deepened, the sound of its hunger driving me forward.

Ahead, through the rain and darkness, I spotted a cluster of wooden ruins... a village, or what was left of one. The structures leaned at odd angles, their frames rotted and broken, the remnants of lives long abandoned.

I pushed myself harder, my legs burning with effort as I closed the distance. The Roamer’s footsteps grew louder, its presence an ever-looming darkness at my back.

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Suddenly, it surged forward.

I heard it pass me, its massive frame barreling ahead. My stomach sank.

It had seen through my trick.

The mist clone, my desperate attempt at a distraction, had failed. The creature had caught on, its senses too sharp to be fooled for long.

I cursed under my breath, my body already shifting. The moment I had started running, my real form had dematerialized into mist, slipping forward unnoticed while the clone acted as bait. But now, even in my mist form, the Roamer had locked onto me.

Its growl grew louder, closer, resonating through my very being.

There was no escaping it. No hiding.

It would chase me to the ends of this cursed land.

And it wouldn’t stop until one of us was dead.