I Died and Received an SSS-Rank Unique Ability-Chapter 88: Objective

The journey began under a sky the colour of steel. Dawn had barely lifted the gloom, and a chill wind rolled across the barren land, carrying with it the distant echoes of screams too faint to trace. The group pressed on in silence for the first hour, each member keeping a wary eye on the horizon. The terrain was treacherous—cracked and uneven, with twisted trees like skeletal hands clawing at the sky.

They encountered the first group of monsters near a collapsed ridge. They came fast, grotesque things with crooked limbs and mouths too wide for their faces. Four of them, each hunched and screeching, emerged from the shadows of shattered stone.

"Positions!" Kael barked.

The group responded like clockwork. Theodore and the longsword-wielding soldier—Marcus—rushed forward, engaging the beasts head-on. Kael loosed a volley of arrows from a safe distance, each one striking true. Elias moved deftly among the fighters, whispering healing words under his breath whenever someone took a blow.

Vale, however, moved like lightning.

He surged forward, his blade slicing through one monster before the others even noticed he’d moved.

Another creature lunged at him, but he sidestepped with inhuman grace, plunging his sword into its eye and twisting hard. The third caught him in the side with a jagged claw, but Vale didn’t flinch—his free hand slammed into its jaw, sending it tumbling backwards before Kael finished it with an arrow to the skull.

The last creature snarled, as if confused, uncertain which way to turn.

Vale didn’t give it a chance to pick.

He activated his new ability—Voidstep. With a single step, he vanished, reappearing behind the monster in a blur of black and steel. A single, clean stroke severed its head from its shoulders.

The rest of the group stared in stunned silence.

Theodore looked at Vale with a perplexed expression. "I thought you said you just finished your Second Trial."

"I did," Vale replied, shaking the blood from his blade before dismissing it.

Kael stared at him for a moment but didn’t say anything.

With a moment to spare Vale recalled the use of his new ability.

"Better than expected," He thought.

Voidstep took him behind the creature in an instant. However, it didn’t come without a price. A single use took a fifth of his essence, a price he once wouldn’t be able to accept. But things were different now. He was able to replenish his essence after each kill, and the new ability? It would only make the whole process faster.

A faint smile tugged at his lips as the group continued forward.

The closer they got to the reported location of the Awakened swarm, the more twisted the land became. Trees bled sap that shimmered like oil. Stones pulsed faintly with heat. The wind no longer felt natural—it whispered in voices that sounded like they almost made sense.

They fought three more times before nightfall. Each battle revealed more of Vale’s capabilities—his speed, precision, and raw power leaving the rest of the group visibly shaken.

The group didn’t talk much. With each step, the air grew heavier and thicker with tension. An eerie wave of unease crept over them, settling like a fog that refused to lift.

Before long, they reached what remained of an ancient town—just jagged fragments of walls and scattered piles of rubble. Though lifeless, the ruins were enough to put them on edge, every corner a potential hiding place for monsters.

But nothing came.

No ambush. No movement. No sound. The ruins were disturbingly empty, as if whatever had once dwelled here had vanished.

They spent the next hour weaving through the desolate ruins in silence, nerves stretched thin. Eventually, they stopped.

"Let’s make camp," Kael said, her voice low but firm.

With the night in full bloom, pressing forward would be reckless. The darkness brought not just fatigue but danger, and everyone knew it. No one objected. They scattered to find a spot, wordless but unified.

And they found it.

A large collapsed structure offered shelter, high, slanted walls and heaps of debris forming a natural enclosure. It wasn’t secure, not truly; any powerful monster could tear through it with ease. But it offered cover, and that was enough for now.

The group worked quickly, even in rest. Within minutes, a small fire crackled to life, casting flickering light across worn faces. Rations were reheated, and finally, they allowed themselves a moment to breathe.

Soon, they sat around the fire, warming their hands and sharing quiet conversation about life beyond the mission. Theodore spoke of returning home to visit his ailing mother. Kael shared her dream of teaching archery at the academy. The others murmured of warm beds, hot food, and long-forgotten comforts.

But Vale remained silent.

His mind was elsewhere, wrapped in shadows. His goal was not one he could voice—not here, not now. The assassins who destroyed his family were still out there. His assassin. And he would find the one behind it all. Whatever it took.

The group took turns as they rested and took watch before the rising sun welcomed the sky once more.

They set out as soon as the light scattered across the sky, in search of their target.

But the swarm of monsters was nowhere to be found.

The fog crept in slowly at first, clinging to the edges of the ruins like ghostly fingers. But within minutes, it had swallowed the entire landscape, obscuring the path ahead and severing sightlines between them. The air was thick with moisture and silence.

"Stay close!" Kael called out, but her voice sounded muted, like it was being pulled backwards into the mist.

Vale moved closer to the others, but as he turned, he realised he could no longer see Kael—or anyone else.

"Kael?" he called, but no answers came.

He took a few steps forward, straining to hear, but the mist wrapped around him like a shroud. His foot caught on something—stone, maybe—but when he looked down, the ground had vanished beneath a grey, swirling sea. Shapes moved within the fog, just out of reach.

The rustling of the wind started to sound more like a muffled voice, as if calling to him.

Vale clutched the hilt of his sword, his breath sharp and quick.

He called upon his relic, the Four-Eyed Raven, manifest just above. Stretching Vale’s vision across the visible horizon.

But what he found wasn’t his companions.

From the mist surged a towering figure, at least eight feet tall, jagged with bone-like armour and wielding a cleaver of black iron. Its face was a warped mask of pain and rage. Behind it, more forms materialised. Lithe beasts with serrated claws and eyeless faces, moving in coordinated silence.

Vale didn’t hesitate.

He dashed forward, his blade trailing dark light as he met the first monster head-on. The giant cleaver came down in a brutal arc—Vale parried, sparks flying from the clash of steel. He spun, ducked, then drove his sword through the creature’s ribs, severing its spine with a brutal twist.

Before the body hit the ground, two more leapt at him.

He let instinct guide him. He sidestepped the first attacker, sending him crashing with an elbow to the jaw. The mist dulled his vision, but his senses burned like fire. Each movement felt perfectly timed. Essence flowed through him with deadly grace.

He activated Voidstep once more, appearing behind a clawed beast mid-pounce, cleaving it in half in one clean strike. Another surged forward with a guttural scream—but Vale caught its wrist, pulled it into a knee to the gut, and threw it headfirst into the shattered ruins.

But the monsters kept coming.

Five. Then seven. Then nine.

They moved too fluidly for mindless beasts.

One of them shouted, "Wait! No—"

But the voice didn’t register—not truly. It echoed strangely, distorted by the fog and the pounding of blood in his ears.

His senses were dulled by instincts. The figures before him were monsters. They had to be. One of them lunged, slashing with a blade of shimmering steel. Vale countered, overwhelming the creature with a flurry of cuts, then buried his weapon in its throat.

"Vale—"

This time, the voice pierced through his dulled senses and froze him midstep.

Then, like a gust of wind through shattered glass, the fog lifted.

The air cleared momentarily.

Vale stood in the middle of a field stained crimson.

Bodies lay around him.

Kael, Marcus, Elias and Theodore.

Their faces were frozen in terror and pain. Blood soaked their armour, their weapons fallen from limp fingers. Some had wounds still glowing faintly with the aftershock of magic.

"No..." Vale whispered, his eyes wide at the terror before him.

His sword slipped from his grasp and clattered to the ground. He stumbled back, his breath ragged, chest heaving.

The illusion had been perfect. Whatever force had conjured it had twisted their appearances and voices, turned his friends into monsters.

And he had killed them all.

He fell to his knees beside each of the bodies, checking for signs of life, but they were all dead.

"How..." He muttered.

But the realisation of what had happened had already formed in his mind—mental attack. A rare ability that only monsters of a Corrupted Rank or higher could possess.

The sky above darkened—not with clouds, but with something far worse. As if the world itself recoiled in sorrow. The sun’s light dimmed, swallowed by an invisible weight that pressed down on the land.

Then, a sudden rustle from behind snapped his attention back to the present.

Vale turned around.

A towering figure loomed in the shadows. Its eyes glowed a deep, mocking crimson. It watched him, as if amused and revelling in his despair.

Something inside Vale snapped.

A burst of raw, unfiltered rage surged through him, and without a thought, black flames erupted from his body—wild, writhing, alive with fury.

He rose.

And the flames followed.