Chapter 3 - 2
"Holy mother—shit, I almost died there."
Cursing his luck, Lumberling turned toward the enemy spearman, still barely alive, his breath ragged and fading fast.
"Woah... I knew Uncle Drake was strong, but this strong? That’s beyond my expectations."
’Is he a superhuman?’
Lumberling met the spearman’s pleading eyes—desperate, begging for mercy. But survival demanded more than pity. With gritted teeth, he drove his spear through the man’s heart.
Killing still didn’t come naturally. Lumberling knew he had to kill to survive, but the intimacy of close combat made it far more unsettling than picking someone off from afar with an arrow. With the bow, the enemy never looked him in the eyes.
Steadying his breath, he watched as a wisp of purple-like smoke rose from the spearman’s corpse and flowed into his body. His bleeding shoulder throbbed—and then, slowly, began to close.
Then came the voice.
(You have devoured the Spearman Soldier’s essence. 20 essence absorbed. Absorbing a portion of the Spearman Soldier’s memories and experiences.)
(The spear isn’t meant to be swung like that! Fix your posture and follow the technique taught to us by the Sengolio Empire.)
"Mmm...?"