NOVEL'S EXTRA: I Will Die at the Peak-Chapter 63: Toward the forest (3)

In the middle of the caravan, Ravien’s attention was caught by a horse.

It was more delicately built compared to the others, but there was something different about its posture.

It was as if the creature was aware of its surroundings—it wasn’t moving, held its head high, and calmly yet attentively observed everything around it.

Ravien’s gaze traveled from its neck down to its legs, then to its eyes.

Physically, it was weaker; its ribcage stood out, and its muscles were slender. But rather than being put off by that, Ravien found himself even more intrigued.

Unlike the others, this horse didn’t react with small, nervous twitches. Instead of flinching at the slightest movement, it stood firmly in place.

It was composed. And that was exactly what Ravien liked about it.

He reached out his hand. He wanted to see if it truly was as he thought. As he moved his finger close to its neck, he did so with care. The creature didn’t even blink. It didn’t turn its head or twitch its ears.

When he touched it, its skin was warm. Slightly rough, but firm. Its muscles weren’t tense, nor were they limp—it was relaxed and ready.

In a low voice, Ravien spoke:

"You’re physically weak. But I’m choosing you as my personal steed. That’s why I’m going to perform a small modification on you."

The capacity flowing from his palm began to spread from the point of contact into the creature’s body.

Energy rippled in short, pulsing waves—first to the neck, then the shoulders, and deeper into the inner muscles. Externally, there was no visible reaction. The horse’s eyes remained fixed, its breathing unchanged.

A few seconds passed.

Its ears twitched.

Then, a low yet sharp sound escaped its mouth:

"Hrhh."

The horse suddenly lifted its front legs off the ground. Its chest tightened slightly, and its hooves hovered in the air for a few seconds.

Ravien didn’t step back. He didn’t take his eyes off the creature, and he kept his hand steady on its neck.

The flow of capacity continued uninterrupted. Around fifteen percent of the energy in his body was being transferred—carefully and precisely—into the horse’s muscular system.

As the energy progressed, the horse’s muscles first tensed, then a wave of relaxation passed through its body. It slowly lowered its front legs to the ground.

Then it went completely still. It wasn’t moving, but it wasn’t frozen either—as if it were listening to an internal command, waiting for it to become clear.

Ravien withdrew his hand from its neck and stepped back a few paces. He calmed his breathing. His eyes remained fixed on the horse. The transfer was complete.

A short distance away, Asogi and Juuhra were silently watching him.

Juuhra seemed distracted. He had tilted his head slightly upward, his eyes following the movement of the clouds in the sky—hues of red and orange drifting above. He wasn’t paying attention to what was happening on the ground.

Asogi, on the other hand, hadn’t taken his eyes off Ravien. He stood quietly, watching with intense focus.

There was a clear admiration in his gaze. He was tracking Ravien’s every movement, trying not to miss a single detail.

The horse’s body suddenly trembled. The veins beneath its skin became pronounced, shifting in color from deep red to a shade verging on purple within seconds.

Its surface rippled as if in motion—veins spread beneath the skin like an irregular web.

Ravien’s brows furrowed slightly, his eyes narrowing. He spoke in a low voice, moving his jaw just a little:

"Damn it... Am I still making the same mistake? I only meant to enhance it slightly, but now it’s become something between a mutation and an evolution.

Next time, I need to account for this phase as well. The experiments on the waste-eater weren’t sufficient."

The horse’s left eye suddenly filled with blood. A thin stream of red liquid trickled from the corner of its eye, sliding down its cheek.

At the same time, the iris turned orange, and the pupil narrowed into a vertical slit. A sharp tremor passed through the eye—as if it were resetting its focus.

A cracking sound rose from deep inside. The noise of bone being forcibly reshaped started as a low, muffled creak, then sharpened into a series of snapping sounds.

The horse’s legs tensed; the muscles swelled in fibrous cords, the ankles thickened, and its joints rotated inward, settling into new positions.

Then its mouth opened. But not just downward—outward, in four directions. Along with the upper and lower jaws, the sides split open as well. As the jaws parted, a long, slick tongue slipped out.

It dropped to the ground, then curled slowly. At the same moment, its teeth began to elongate and morph—sharpening and shifting into new configurations.

Its torso was expanding rapidly. The ribcage widened, the shoulders rose higher. Spinal bones pushed outward, reshaping with each movement. Muscle fibers rewove themselves at a speed too fast for the eye to follow.

From both sides of its head, new eyes opened. Lidless, wet, and twitching, these fleshy orbs locked directly onto their surroundings.

Its tail unraveled like it had come undone; from within, thread-like extensions resembling fibrous tissues dangled and began curling around themselves.

This new form was no longer a horse. It had become monstrous—something that defied easy description. With its four-way-opened mouth, it slowly turned toward Ravien.

The new body was clearly stronger than the horse’s previous form. Its muscle structure had expanded, and its skeleton had thickened.

The outward appearance had changed drastically, but Ravien could still sense the same mind within. Only a new layer had been added—a different body, fused with a familiar consciousness.

"Let’s see," he thought. "How will it act in this state?"

The newly formed horse paused for a brief moment, noticing the saddles strapped around its neck. The living strands extending from its tail stirred; with a single motion, they snapped the bindings.

Then it took a few steps forward, approaching Ravien. Its mouth opened slightly. A long, thin tongue extended toward him.

At that moment, the parasite on top of Ravien’s head reacted. A small, flesh-like mass shot out from it. The piece flew through the air and struck the tongue, deflecting it and pushing it back.

The tongue instantly retracted. The mouth closed. All abnormal protrusions on its body gradually reabsorbed, the skin smoothing out.

What remained was a massive, four-eyed, completely black horse. It stood still—but alert. Even its breathing was nearly inaudible.

Ravien watched the transformation with curiosity. The parasite on his head gave its own reaction, in its own way:

"Creating new lifeforms... turns out it’s a bit more interesting than I expected. Anyway. Let’s get back to work before we waste more time."

—

The horse stood before Ravien. When he reached out his hand, it didn’t pull away.

Without looking back, Ravien spoke while keeping his eyes fixed forward:

"Juuhra. You could fly, right? Then go ahead of us and scout that forest. If you find anything interesting, report back at the entrance... or bring it directly."

Juuhra turned his head and gave a quick glance. His expression didn’t change.

"Alright, Father... I’ll go on ahead."

The black wings on his back spread wide. With a light gust, he lifted off the ground; then, with a single motion, he soared into the sky.

He circled a few short loops in the air, found his direction, and sped off. The wind left behind by his wings gently stirred the dust below.

When the dust settled, Ravien had placed his hand on the horse’s head. He ran a finger briefly through its fur.

The horse bent its front legs slightly before him. Its body lowered, aligning its back into a position ready for riding.

Ravien mounted it in one smooth motion. He made no adjustments to find balance—the creature seemed like it had been waiting for him.

Turning his head slightly, he called out to Asogi:

"Come. Get over here. Hop on behind me—we’re moving out."

Asogi walked toward the front of the horse. When the horse saw him, it slightly turned its head.

It examined him carefully with its eyes, then let out a short but distinct neigh. Still, it didn’t move from its place; it remained crouched, waiting.

Asogi met its gaze. After casting a cold, measured look, he silently stepped forward and sat behind Ravien. It was the first time he had been this close to his father. Yet he showed neither excitement nor hesitation.

Ravien was about to set off, but paused briefly and looked around.

"How am I supposed to steer this thing?" he thought.

Right then, the horse slowly stood up. The hairs of its mane began to move. They stretched and intertwined, eventually forming a soft, circular shape. It resembled a bridle—natural-looking, like an extension of the body itself.

Ravien looked at the response with brief surprise. He lowered his head slightly, a thoughtful expression forming between his brows. As he reached out toward the bridle, he muttered to himself:

"Every time... My creations turn out to be smarter than I expect. Honestly, that’s a good thing."

He felt the texture of the bridle with his fingers. It was alive—but calm. Soft, but strong. He slipped his finger through it and supported it with his other hand.

The horse wasn’t waiting for a command. Before Ravien could even decide what to do, the creature began walking. Its steps were smooth and steady. It adjusted its posture to match Ravien’s seating and kept its center of balance stable.

At the same time, Juuhra was gliding through the sky. His wings were spread wide as he moved with the wind. His long, snow-white hair flowed behind him, scattering a faint shimmer as it caught the sunlight.

Juuhra was murmuring to himself. The words were incomprehensible; the language was unknown, and his voice blended with the wind:

"Naa... muu... dai...

Ve... ra-ha... su...

Ka-luun... thea... jaa...

Zii... ka... naa... ree..."