[STATUS WINDOW]
System Name: Chaos System
Name: Kazuki Hayashi
Level: 7
Class: Avian Apostle
XP: 1,900 / 2,000
Affiliation: None
Race: Human
Relics: [Hydra's Fang Dagger]
[Title]: [False Chosen One], [Bird Bomber], [Hydra Tamer], etc.
[HP]: 180/180
[Skills]:
- [Exploding Chicken Summon (D)]
- [Egg Bomb (C)]
Stats:
Strength: 25(+10)
Agility: 14(+6)
Intelligence: 27 (+11)
Willpower: 9 (+2)
Vitality: 40(+10)
Endurance: 1(+1)
Perception: 1 (+1)
Luck: ???
Special Resource: Mana
Skills:
[Skill: Exploding Chicken Summon: (D)]
[Skill: Brute Strength!: (E)]
[Skill: Feathered Footwork (D)]
[Skill: Egg Bomb (C)]
[Skill: Call of the Flock (C)]
[Skill:Survivor's Reflex (Passive)(E)]
[Skill: Summon Hydra (Sealed)]
[Inventory]
Kazuki scrolled through his [STATUS WINDOW], his eyes stopping at a particular title.
[Hydra Tamer]
His gaze shifted down to his skill list.
[Skill: Summon Hydra (Sealed)]
Sealed? Kazuki tilted his head perplexed. He had tamed the beast—at least on paper. Most of the work was done by system. But even then... Why is it showing as sealed? Did it meant he couldn't use it...?
He sighed, pinching his forehead with two fingers. "Would've been nice if a multi headed serpent was backing me..."
Or maybe not. The Hydra was more of a liability than an asset.
He could already see it playing out in his head: Summoning the hydra and then him being tossed around. Juggled between its six heads as if a ragdoll in a circus act.
A shudder ran down his spine. He trembled.
No. Summoning is off the table.
Just then, a tap on his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts. He turned to find Lillian standing there, her violet piercing eyes locking with an intensity that made Kazuki's legs feel like jelly.
"What are you doing?" She asked, her gaze scanning him from head to toe "Scrunching, shuddering—fighting an enemy in your own world?"
Kazuki flinched for a moment—but quickly composed himself, straightening his collar. He coughed and spoke, trying to sound casual. "Mental exercise. Good for health."
But his pink tint on his cheek betrayed him.
He stole a quick side-eye, trying to gauge her reaction.
A playful smirk curled at her lips.
She took a step forward. Instinctively, Kazuki took a step back.
"What?!" he asked, baffled.
She kept walking toward him, closing the distance until his back hit the rough bark of a tree.
Before he could react, her hand slammed against the trunk beside his head—kabe-don style.
Kazuki blinked rapidly, freezing in place like a bird caught in a trap.
"H-Hey now," he stammered, his voice cracking. "Personal space laws exist, you know... somewhere... probably."
Lillian leaned in slightly, eyes gleaming with amusement. "You looked like you were battling demons. Just making sure one of them didn't win."
Kazuki gulped. His legs were on strike, his brain buffering, and his dignity currently nowhere to be found.
She leaned closer, her face just inches from his. Kazuki could feel her breath—warm, tickling against his skin.
His heart thundered, threatening to burst from his chest.
He gulped and shut his eyes, frozen in place, bracing for... something. Her breath ghosted over his neck, his nerves on fire.
Then—he felt a finger press into his cheek. Not gently. It mashed. Poked. Swirled.
"Huh—?" he peeked an eye open, confused.
Lillian's face was trembling—not with passion, but barely-contained laughter. Water pooled at the corners of her eyes.
A flush of warmth crept into her cheeks, and for a brief second, a flicker of guilt crossed her face.
Had she gone too far?
Her shoulders still shook with giggles, but now they were quieter, softer—tinged with something else. Something tender.
Lillan recoiled back, clutching her stomach. Tears threatened to spill out, she almost stumbled to the ground.
"Y-You should've seen your face!" she wheezed between gasps.
Kazuki stared, stunned—his soul halfway to the afterlife—while Lillian was nearly on the verge of rolling on the ground.
She wheezed, tears streaming down her face, laughter echoing around the forest. She clutched her sides, barely able to stand.
Then the laughter stretched a little too far.
She begun coughing, her hand on her throat as if supporting lifeline, her voice dry and rasp
"Water—water, please," she croaked, her other hand slithered up—clutching his shirt dramatically. She looked at him with pitfall puppy eyes like tragic heroine asking his infidel husband, why he doesn't love her?
Kazuki's soul, which had momentarily left his body, snapped back into place.
He fumbled around, patting his sides, checking behind him, turning in place like a panicked squirrel.
Then he stiffened.
His eyes slowly widened in horror as he turned to face her.
"Lillian," he said, voice low and serious. "Remember... we didn't bring anything with us."
Her smile froze. She blinked.
Kazuki was about to raise both hands in defeat—then something clicked in his mind.
His expression shifted.
A slow, crooked smile crawled across his face.
Then, he laughed.
Dramatically.
Maniacally.
Like a third-rate villain auditioning for a stage play no one asked for.
"HAHAHAHA! This is what you get… for making fun of me!"
He pointed at her with exaggerated flair, wind blowing through his imaginary cape. "Karma has spoken! No water for the wicked!"
Lillian stared at him, stunned.
A crisp chirping sound rang out in the background—sharp, rhythmic, and utterly annoying to the ears.
Both Kazuki and Lillian winced at the same time, their playful banter screeching to a halt.
They turned to each other slowly, sharing the same puzzled expression.
Kazuki squinted toward the trees, then looked back at her. "Crickets at noon? Weird."
Lillian raised a brow. "Either they're broken… or maybe someone has decided we are it's lunch."
Kazuki's expression turned grave… for a moment.
"Or maybe," he said, voice low and dramatic, "they're fantasy crickets. Overworked. Underpaid. Forced to chirp overtime under the scorching sun, scolded by their six-legged boss named Greg."
Lillian blinked. "…You're not right in the head."
Kazuki nodded solemnly. "It's a coping mechanism."
A rustling sound—soft at first, then sharper—cut through the steady chirping.
The bushes in front of them shifted.
Both Kazuki and Lillian froze.
Their eyes met, and without a word, they turned their heads toward the sound.
Silently, they moved forward in sync, each step cautious, careful not to snap a twig or rustle a leaf.
Kazuki's heart thumped loud enough he was sure whatever was ahead could hear it. Lillian, beside him, was calm—unnervingly so. Her hand still shimmered with faint frost.
The bush rustled again.
Closer this time.
Kazuki leaned in and whispered, "Please let it be a small rabbit. Or a squirrel. Or a non-vengeful chicken."
Lillian didn't answer.
She was already preparing a spell.
They parted the bush—and there it was.
A green gremlin hunched over the dirt, clawing feverishly at the ground with long, grime-caked nails.
"That... was not a rabbit."
He wheezed, still catching his breath.
"Where's Greg when you need him?"
Just as Kazuki leaned in for a closer look—
WHAM.
A stench hit them.
Like a thousand rotting fish had partied in a compost bin and then exploded in a heatwave.
Kazuki recoiled instantly, face scrunching up like a crumpled napkin. "By the gods—!" he gagged, stumbling back. "Did something die—"
Before he could finish, Lillian shoved a hand over his mouth and pushed him back into the brush.
Kazuki let out a muffled squeak of protest.
The gremlin froze.
Its head turned slowly, like a haunted marionette on creaking strings. Beady yellow eyes glowed faintly, blinking—once. Twice. It sniffed the air, nostrils twitching.
The digging stopped.
It growled. Low. Guttural.
Kazuki's heart dropped to his stomach.
Lillian didn't move. Her hand on his mouth tightened just a little—enough to say:
Don't. Even. Breathe.
Mana surged around her other hand—an ethereal deep oceanic blue glowed. Forming intricate circular patterns rotating like a key turning in a lock. Within the circle, hexagonal shapes blinked into place, rotating in precise formation. Curves and triangles weaved through them, spiraling gently.
Kazuki watched with wide eyes, mesmerized.
The air around her shimmered faintly, magic compressing, waiting.
Suddenly, the gremlin shrieked—his voice crackling and hoarse—and lunged straight at them.
Kazuki yelped.
Lillian's spell ignited.
A brilliant blue circle expanded in the air—frost coiling outward. The temperature dropped.
Ice daggers erupted.
The gremlin tried to dodge, but they were too fast. They slammed into his chest and limbs with a sickening crunch.
He collapsed like a string cut puppet.
Kazuki gave her a thumbs-up. Lillian flicked her full-length hair with a huff.
They stepped toward the pit the gremlin had clawed open.
The stench grew worse—rancid, suffocating. Kazuki gagged again, pinching his nose shut.
As they peered in, the horror became clear. Bones. Skulls. Small—grotesquely so.
"Gremlins," Lillian whispered. "All of them."
Tiny heads stacked like some deranged collector's prize.
Kazuki squatted near the edge of the shallow pit, trying his best not to gag as he looked at the grim remains.
He turned to Lillian, eyes narrowing as he pinched his nose shut with two fingers. "Gremlins are really cruel creatures, huh?" he muttered. "Killing their own kind like that... that's dark."
Lillian gave him a flat look.
A long, slow blink.
Then she tilted her head at him like he'd just asked if the moon was made of cheese.
"You… really don't know anything, do you?" she said, voice dry as sandpaper.
Kazuki blinked. "What?"
She sighed and rubbed her temple like she was physically holding her brain in place.
"Gremlins," she began, "are friendly. Social creatures. They travel in tight-knit packs, live in burrows, and share food. They hum when they're happy. Some even braid each other's back hair as a bonding ritual."
Kazuki slowly lowered the hand pinching his nose.
"This isn't natural," she murmured. "But I suppose I shouldn't be surprised—out in the wild, anything's possible."
A deep rumble split the silence without warning. Kazuki froze, then instinctively stepped back, yanking Lillian with him.
"Lillian," he whispered, eyes scanning. "What do you think that was?"
She didn't answer. Instead, Kazuki glanced back at her, only to find her face slightly flushed, her gaze focused on the ground as she absently circled her legs.
He tilted his head, brow furrowing. "What happened?"
Lillian took a quick peek at him before glancing down again, her cheeks darkening even more. She mumbled, almost to herself, "That was my stomach."
Kazuki blinked. "Oh" That was the only word left him mouth.