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Without enough mana to escape a tight situation, he would have been nothing more than another corpse in this hellscape.

Leveling up first manually by killing fleshers was the best choice Lyerin made, that time, he had time to build up his strength, to ensure that when he did make his move, it would be decisive and he would be safe.

As he walked, the city seemed to groan around him, the silence punctuated by the occasional distant crash or the low growl of a nearby flesh-eater.

It wasn\'t long before he encountered another one of the Tentatorns—massive, slithering abominations with thorny tentacles that lashed out like whips.

These creatures were vile even by eldritch standards, more intent on feeding their insatiable hunger than anything else. When one of them spotted Lyerin, it hesitated, as if uncertain whether he was prey worth pursuing.

Lyerin\'s lips curled in a faint smirk as he picked up a small stone from the ground. "You really think you can take me down?" he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to the creature.

With a flick of his wrist, the stone sailed through the air, striking the Tentatorn square in its single, massive eye.

Cluck!

The creature screeched, a high-pitched, ear-splitting sound that echoed through the streets.

"Reeeeiii! Raaaakk! Reeekk!"

The Tentatorn recoiled, its tentacles thrashing wildly in pain.

For a moment, it looked as if it might charge at Lyerin, but another shriek tore from its twisted maw as it turned and slithered away, vanishing into the shadows.

Lyerin watched it go, unfazed. "Pathetic," he muttered, dusting off his hands as if the brief encounter had dirtied them. He was about to continue on his way when a movement caught his eye.

Another Tentatorn had appeared, this one dragging a struggling woman in its thorny grasp.

Lyerin\'s eyes narrowed as he watched the scene unfold.

The woman\'s screams were muffled by the creature\'s tentacles, which coiled tightly around her mouth and neck. She clawed at the air, her eyes wide with terror. Lyerin could see the thorns digging into her flesh, drawing blood that ran in thin rivulets down her cheeks.

Without warning, the Tentatorn tightened its grip, and a sickening sound filled the air—like the slurping of liquid through a straw.

The woman\'s body convulsed violently, her skin paling as the creature drained her of her vital fluids. Her limbs flailed weakly for a few seconds more before going limp, her body reduced to little more than a dry husk of skin and bones.

Lyerin\'s jaw clenched as the Tentatorn casually flung the woman\'s body aside.

The empty husk struck the pavement with a dull thud, rolling over to rest in a grotesque heap.

Swoosh!

The Tentatorn\'s gaze shifted to Lyerin, its single eye narrowing as it studied him.

Lyerin could feel the creature\'s malevolent intent, but he remained still with an unreadable expression.

The Tentatorn slithered closer, its thorny tentacles twitching with anticipation. Just as it reared back to strike, Bro\'s hand moved in a blur, sending another stone hurtling toward the creature\'s eye.

Pang!

The stone struck true, and the Tentatorn recoiled with a shriek that echoed through the streets.

"Screee! Screee! Screee!"

It writhed in agony, its tentacles flailing wildly. But this time, instead of fleeing, the creature hesitated, seemingly caught between its hunger and its fear of Lyerin.

Finally, with another ear-splitting shriek, the Tentatorn turned and slithered away, disappearing into the shadows as quickly as it had appeared.

Lyerin watched it go, his expression impassive. "Better run," he muttered, turning away from the carnage.

He didn\'t kill for future purposes and the first one he killed back then was just out of curiosity of what creature the families sent.

After a few more minutes of walking, Lyerin finally reached his destination.

The mall loomed before him, a hulking behemoth of glass and steel that had once been a bustling center of commerce.

Now, it was a silent, ominous structure, its glass windows shattered, its once-proud entrance reduced to a gaping maw of darkness.

Lyerin paused at the entrance, his eyes narrowing as he took in the building\'s sheer size. "Damn, this place is massive," he muttered to himself. "Three floors, at least. Probably more if you count the underground levels. It could house thousands of those fleshers… maybe more." He looked up at the towering structure, considering his options.

"If I play this right, I could take out a lot of them in one go. But first…"

He moved cautiously around the building, his eyes scanning the surroundings.

The mall was old, its structure showing signs of decay. Cracks ran up the walls, and weeds had begun to reclaim the once-paved walkways.

The parking lot was littered with abandoned cars, their rusting frames a stark contrast to the shiny vehicles they had once been.

Lyerin couldn\'t help but smile as he surveyed the scene. "These cars… if I can rig them to explode, the blast could bring down a good portion of the mall. And with the building in this state, it wouldn\'t take much to bring it all down." His smile widened as he imagined the carnage, the potential for leveling up rapidly. "This could work…"

But as he circled the building, Lyerin\'s smile slowly faded.

Something wasn\'t right.

The area around the mall was eerily quiet, devoid of the usual sounds of the eldritch fleshers. It was as if they were avoiding the place, keeping their distance.

Lyerin\'s eyes narrowed as he scanned the shadows, his senses on high alert.

"This doesn\'t make sense," he muttered, his hand tightening around the hilt of his blade. "Why would they avoid this place? What\'s inside that\'s keeping them out?"

Without another thought, Lyerin decided to find out. He approached the mall\'s entrance, stepping over the shattered glass and debris.

The air inside was thick with dust and the stale scent of decay.

The temperature seemed to drop as he moved deeper into the building, the shadows closing in around him.

The mall\'s interior was a labyrinth of broken escalators, overturned kiosks, and debris-strewn walkways. The stores were empty, their windows shattered, their shelves ransacked.

The once-bright signs that had advertised sales and discounts were now faded and torn, hanging limply from the walls.

Lyerin moved cautiously, his eyes scanning every corner, every shadow.

The deeper he went, the more oppressive the atmosphere became.

The silence was unnerving, broken only by the occasional creak of the building settling or the distant drip of water leaking from somewhere above.

As he ventured further into the mall, Lyerin felt a growing sense of unease.

Something was wrong.

The air was thick with a foul, cloying odor that made his stomach churn. It was the scent of rot and decay, but there was something else beneath it, something… sinister.

Lyerin\'s heart skipped a beat as he spotted movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned quickly, his hand instinctively reaching for his blade. But what he saw stopped him in his tracks.

A fly, as big as a bird, buzzed past him, its wings beating with a low, ominous hum. Its body was bloated, its eyes a sickly green, and its proboscis dripped with a dark, viscous liquid.

Lyerin\'s blood ran cold as he realized what this meant.

"The flies…" he whispered to himself, his voice barely audible in the stillness. "They\'re here."

His mind raced as he tried to piece together what he was seeing.

The flies were carriers, spreading the eldritch infection wherever they went.

One bite, one touch, and a person would be transformed into a monstrous, twisted version of themselves. And if the flies were here, that meant something was feeding them, something big.

Lyerin moved deeper into the mall, his steps careful, his senses on high alert. He avoided the flies as best he could, ducking behind debris and slipping through narrow gaps in the walls.

The further he went, the more flies he encountered, their numbers increasing with every step.

The air grew thicker, the stench of decay more overpowering.

Lyerin\'s eyes watered as he approached the source of the foul odor, his heart pounding in his chest.

He knew he was getting close, but nothing could have prepared him for what he saw next.