MARKS PERIL ( III )

The rat monster stopped abruptly as the pain was too much for it to bear, forcefully throwing Mark off its back.

Mark skillfully landed on the ground despite the intensity with which he was thrown off the monster's back. Without hesitation, he dashed toward the creature, repeatedly stabbing it with the dagger. Each time he was thrown away, his determination remained unwavering as he dashed back toward the monster, continuing the relentless assault.

The monster convulsed in pain, its eyes completely dug out by Mark, its breath heavy. Noticing the condition of the creature, Mark knew that victory was at hand.

He walked slowly and confidently toward the rat's corpse that he had unwittingly impaled with his spear.

Blood had dyed the beast's corpse, its guts spewing out as chunks of meat were missing from its body.

Mark looked at the dead monster's rat body, with his spear poking out of it. Despite the gruesome sight before him, he did not feel disgusted, as he had gutted animals before and killed many during his journey with Leo, becoming numb to the sight of torn flesh and blood.

He pulled the spear out of the rat's body, blood gushing out like a fountain. With his body drenched in blood, he made up his mind.

He stared at the monster he had been engaging as it still convulsed in pain, but less vigorously as it seemed to be at the end of its rope.

He started hopping gently, slowly picking up the pace to gain enough momentum, as he wanted to finish it off with one last attack. Feeling he had gained enough, he rushed toward the rat, which continued to convulse in pain.

With a wide forward thrust, he pushed the spear through the rat's head, piercing its brain and bringing its torment to an end.

[Ding, a life has been taken, extracting soul energy ]

A notification sounded, signaling the end of the monster's life.

"One more to go... But Leo takes priority," Mark mused as he made up his mind to forget about the last rat, as time sped by uncaring of his perils.

He pulled the spear out of the rat's head, sat on its body, and decided to contemplate what to do next. He searched through his memories, trying to find any clue to the whereabouts of the infirmary.

"Each floor should have an infirmary... I remember it being close to the staircase for whatever reason... Hmm, I guess I have to climb up," he decided.

******

Koryfi High School was a state-of-the-art high school, 'was' as it had now become a relic of the past—a school that incorporated technologies of the post-Third World War. After the war, it stood among the top ten high schools in the world.

The school dabbled in all kinds of sports, clubs, and competitions, ranking first in most. Due to the large number of sports activities, which included boxing, swimming, football, and even kickboxing, their motto was 'To educate is to arm one for the battlefield that is life.' The curriculum contained practical content that students could use to survive in the outside world, aligning with their motto.

The administrators of the school sought to arm their students with skills to survive in the world. Due to the numerous clubs and the fact that aristocrats' children went there, safety was made one of their priorities, ensuring they had enough facilities to help the entirety of the school, with more than enough to spare.

It was somewhat overkill, but that was a must, considering the world had just experienced a world war, claiming more lives than the first two.

******

"I should get going," Mark thought to himself as he grabbed his bag, with a spear and glow sticks in each hand, traversing the dark hallway. His destination: the upper floors, as they were on the ground floor.

He strolled through the dark hallway, his steps echoing strangely without attracting any monsters.

"I expected to attract at least the rat that ran away, but I see nothing... That's strange," Mark mused.

It was indeed peculiar. The only reason he could think of is if a stronger beast lay around here, claiming the surroundings as its territory, thus scaring the rest.

With that thought in mind, he slowed down his pace, trying to create as little noise as possible.

Slowly and cautiously, he made it to the staircase.

"Here goes nothing," he resolved himself and began to ascend the staircase.

As Mark climbed to the upper floor, he couldn't shake the feeling that danger lurked in every shadow. The air grew tense as he reached the landing, only to be greeted by an unexpected sight. Swarming around the stairs was a horde of aggressive bees, their buzzing creating an ominous symphony.

Mark looked at the fist-sized bees before him, their pointed stingers reflecting the light of the glow sticks.

"They are smaller than the rats... I should be able to handle them." Undeterred, Mark braced himself for the impending attack. The bees, sensing his presence, launched a relentless assault, stinging him repeatedly.

He, in turn, swiped his spear, trying to ward away the bees, but their size coupled with their speed made his effort in vain. He could barely get a hit in as they swarmed him, stinging him on every side.

The pain was excruciating, each sting feeling like a fiery needle penetrating his skin. Yet, Mark, resilient and determined, continued his pointless fight, trying to hit them.

Unable to handle the beatdown he was receiving, he rushed back down, his face and body swollen from the stings. Defeated at the hands of the bees.

Mark's futile attempts to fend off the swarm of bees left him battered and defeated. Every encounter ended with him being forced down the staircase, his body marked by the relentless stings. He was physically defeated but still held on to hope as he believed that as long as their stings couldn't kill him, he could prevail somehow.

The pain thus fueled his determination. Undeterred by the repeated beatings, he decided to turn this adversity into an opportunity.

In the subsequent hours, Mark endured the bee attacks, each sting molding his body into a resilient fortress. He embraced the pain, pushing himself beyond his limits until the once excruciating stings became mere pinpricks. The bees, initially the tormentors, unwittingly became Mark's trainers, tempering his body into an epitome of endurance.

As more hours passed, Mark emerged from the relentless ordeal not weakened but transformed. The stings that once left him swollen and defeated now barely fazed him.

The tempering of body offered by the bees made his body, even more resilient than that of the average superhuman of the new apocalyptic era. He noticing the change in his body continued his actions, this time with more zeal.

Mark who had become completely immune to their stings noticed a change in his stats even though he had still not been able to kill even a single bee.

A new skill was developed thanks to the bees, the skill, 'Iron Body.' a name befitting of his now resilient body. The countless stings had toughened his flesh, granting him the ability to withstand physical assaults with unmatched resilience. The pain that once drove him down the staircase now fueled a strength that set him apart.

He smiled at the sight of his new skill, happy about the new development.

"This skill seems very helpful, I can now get the job done faster... I should hurry ..." Mark's stomach grumbled halting his inner dialogue. He had used a lot of strength and vitality. In an attempt to curb his hunger and replenish his vitality, he approached the beehives, golden honey dripping from the hive.

The bees noticing him approach their hive stung him, their stings breaking on impact. Feeling enraged he continued but it was to no avail as Mark's iron body protected him. "That's not gonna work this time..." Mark smiled sheepishly as he reached out his hand to take a scoop of the honey.

"Ach!!" he screamed in pain as the honey flowed down his throat. The taste was a sensational sweetness he had never experienced, yet it brought him pain. Blood oozed out of his orifice as he tried to shake off the dizziness and pain.

He plunged his finger into his throat and forced the honey out, causing the pain to subside and eventually disappear.

**********

The golden figure, seated atop his emerald throne, nodded as he understood how Mark had gained his evolution.

The honey that Mark had consumed was rich in mana and miasma, resulting in his metamorphosis, but he was not able to complete the evolution as he spat the honey out before it had time to fully change his body.

"I think I like this one... tell Sophia that I want to be his sponsor," the golden figure spoke, his voice thundering in the empty hall. He was quite impressed by Mark and thus wished to support him in his journey toward godhood.

[I will relay your words. Good luck with your chosen Chanikh.]