Veyrith Vosk.

  Even just thinking of his name made me gag.

  People called him a chosen one. I used to call him no better than mushroom fertilizer. With my Earth memories intact, yeah. Scum. Utter, stereotypical scum.

  Veyrith was one of the few in the village gifted with theBlessing of Regeneration, and that alone made him untouchable in the eyes of most—both physically and societally. A body that could knit itself back together meant he could take risks no one else could. It meant he could strut through hunts like he was invincible. It meant that when he made a mistake—when his arrogance put lives on the line—he walked away fine while someone else took the fall… It meant that in this miserable world, he was one of the special few.

  People with regeneration were seen as greater, as if the spirits of the cave had personally picked them out and raised them above the rest. That belief latched onto Veyrith early, feeding into his ego until he truly believed he was better.

  He believed he was smarter and stronger when he was really just an arrogant imbecile. All he had was his ability to take risks.

  He was worth more than the rest of us—according to him. And if you weren’t worth anything to him? Then you were just something to mistreat.

  He always wore a cocky smile, and was born with green eyes and blond hair–angelic features that only further made him stand out. It wasn’t hard for people to buy into the idea of the chosen few when they saw Veyrith.

  They would turn a blind eye to his behavior, or make excuses for him. Not everyone in the village was like that, but a good chunk of annoying people were.

  I never liked him. I’d seen the way his eyes lingered on people he thought were beneath him. I’d seen the way he’d push others around just to prove he could. I’d seen him corner Runica in an alley and grab at her in a way that he never should have.

  And I’d made sure he never tried again.

  He hated me for that.

  But he couldn’t so easily get at me. There was a blessing to the fact that he wasn’t the only one with regeneration. The other blessed ones were all free to have varying opinions on Veyrith. Runica’s family, too, when they found out what happened, became my shields. They didn’t have the blessings, but they were the people who knew how to make mushroom beer. They were the actual, homegrown geniuses the rest didn’t want to offend.

  That day, Veyrith and his small brain realized there were things he couldn’t touch, and I was the one who forced him to see it.

  The guy seethed. He realized how out of his depth he was.

  He wasn’t even a good hunter.

  Sure, he had skill. But skill meant nothing when you thought you were above listening to others. Veyrith refused to take orders from anyone, and that caused nothing but chaos during hunts.

  The only reason his failures never got him—or anyone else—killed was because the previous hunting party leader, a man named Dain Rekk, had been sensible enough to cover for him. Dain played damage control. He cleaned up Veyrith’s messes before anyone could get hurt. And as long as Dain was leading, Veyrith’s recklessness never had any real consequences that he could learn from.

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  But Dain was just too kind of a man. He kept thinking Veyrith would smarten up, like a few others he mentored had.

  Dain gave Veyrith his temporary blessings to lead parties into the hunting zones. It was supposed to be a probationary period, and the first thing Veyrith did was push me into the Mauler…

  And now that dumbass was playing dangerous games again, not listening to the other three who kept telling them that other villagers had tagged this place to indicate they had hunted here.

  He was leading them past the boundary again, for a high-risk, high-reward play.

  The hunting zones–they referred to these underground zones where animals and flora thrived, where Shadow Beasts were unable to wander due to the repulsive effect of Lantern Shrooms.

  Those special shrooms always grew in clusters that formed like one giant mushroom circle. The hunting zone also extended through large passages that led away from the village’s cavern, and into other caverns, so we actually were blessed with quite a lot of safe land.

  Our cavern had eight arms we could explore. Honestly, we had so much space to chase food down in, and this idiot kept doing stupid things like going to the spot where someone had success.

  Moron–he probably heard someone had a crazy hunt the day before, and now he wanted to replicate it; guy couldn’t handle not being the star.

  No matter. Veyrith and the party of viscous liars were in sight. To my luck, they were spreading out slightly. Still within earshot, but desperately looking for small game.

  I moved, ready to pick them off one at a time before taking a shot at the prize.

  First, Edrin Wolf.

  I would have thought this soft-spoken giant would be better than this.

  He wasn’t like Veyrith. He wasn’t the type to run his mouth, to puff up his chest, and throw his weight around like it meant something. He was older than the rest of us, a seasoned hunter who knew what it meant to struggle and starve through the tough phases. Caution had kept him alive this long. That kind of man should have known better.

  And yet, here he was. Walking with liars.

  I could almost hear him now, saying he had no choice. Saying Veyrith had pressured him, threatened him, left him no way out. Maybe that was true. Maybe that was what he told himself. But in the end, he didn’t just stay silent. He propagated a stupid lie. Couldn’t even let the dead have their dignity.

  I flexed my fingers at my side, taking careful steps as I kept behind him. New Arm manifested silently.

  His stance was loose, and too relaxed. He wasn’t expecting trouble. He thought he was safe. His body expressed just how hopeless the hunt was, but poor Edrin was too quiet to rectify the situation.

  He was standing amongst a cluster of trees, near a rocky ledge that was a little taller than he was. I kept approaching, my steps light, helped by the extra Perception my Level Flicker afforded me.

  Edrin shifted. I heard his sniffle and grunt. He adjusted the bow on his shoulder and just stood there.

  Was the guilt eating away at him? Was it fear? Too bad. A Mauler ate my arm. I pulled my cloak up so that my head was hidden by its shadows.

  The echoes of the others bounced around the underground forest. Still far enough for me.

  One step away, I grabbed him by the back of his head and drove his head into the ledge. Edrin staggered backward, limbs losing their strength. I pulled him by his head and flung him onto the floor.

  Before he could cry out, I was on him.

  My hand clamped over his mouth, my weight pinning him down. His eyes were wide but unfocused, mouth parting in a weak attempt to breathe past my grip. He tried to struggle, but his limbs weren’t listening to him anymore.

  New Arm on his mouth, I flickered and delivered three punches below his jaw, and then pressed my hands against his mouth again. My Perception gave me an unnerving new awareness. I noticed the exact moment he passed out.

  I exhaled slowly, then adjusted my stance, already setting my sights on the next liar.