Chapter 3. Predation (1)
Isaac peered out of the window.
The early dawn painted the room with a gentle blue light. Birds chirped from the forest enveloping the monastery. It was too early for children to be awake, but for Isaac, it was a moment to collect his thoughts.
It marked the one-month anniversary of his metamorphosis into Isaac.
After surviving the attack of the Immortal Order, he found himself waking up in this monastery. The abbot simply said he was rescued, without diving into any more details. To Isaac, who was bracing himself for a barrage of questions, this unexpected light-handed approach was actually quite a relief.
He had been in a sort of daze for the past month, feeling like he was trapped in a bizarre dream he couldn’t shake off. Hoping it was all just some strange illusion, he spent that time trying to log out or snap out of it.
But as his mind cleared, he started to refocus. Today, he made the choice to ditch all his preconceived notions. Isaac was here and now, a part of this world. So, he resolved to blend in, at least until he could figure out a way back.
Testing his own strength, he realized how weak he felt, struggling even with the lightest tasks. Having the feeble strength of a young Nephilim made him no stronger than a kindergartener.
“Dang it, had I known I’d be stuck in a game, I would’ve beefed up my stats” he muttered to himself. Being a Nephilim wasn’t all bad though. Sure, they were physically lacking, but their charm and faith were off the charts.
Isaac thought it was like being a character out of a virtual game, suddenly thrust into reality. The attention his appearance garnered in this new world was way more than he had bargained for.
But managing to charm folks around him was all good, as long as he could keep his true identity hidden. To them, he was just a good-looking young dude.
His biggest hurdle, though, was his fragile body. Falling ill easily and struggling to find fitting gear, Isaac felt incredibly vulnerable in this medieval realm.
He remembered consuming Calzen and feeling a surge in strength. Yet, here he was, seemingly stuck at this level. The message about Calzen’s high level causing a ‘delay in digestion’ didn’t help either, making him doubt his growth.
The special skill he gained from that encounter still remained locked away, frustratingly so. ‘Lighthouse of the Watcher (Unopened)’ it was called. Isaac had braved the Nameless Chaos numerous times, even using the faith of the ‘Codex of Light.’
It was basically a skill that could transform an area into ‘heaven’, attracting potentially dangerous beings. A high-tier skill reserved for ‘Codex of Light’ paladins recognized by archangels.
“Why does this skill belong to me, an outsider in faith?” he pondered. Maybe its locked state was a result of his differing beliefs. Using it in this new world was a gamble, since mismatched skills in the Nameless Chaos led to chaos and health issues.
“If Calzen had busted out that skill before kicking the bucket, I might’ve been the one pushing up daisies,” Isaac muttered, his body shivering involuntarily.
The memory of his narrow escape lingered vividly in his mind. His hand grazed the scar on his chest, a reminder of Calzen’s lethal strike. The image of tendrils bursting out from his wound, obliterating Calzen and the undead, was both horrifying and sickening.
“The Nameless Chaos must’ve had a hand in that,” Isaac speculated.
Having chosen the ‘Nameless Chaos’ as his character’s faith, he was well aware of its infamy. The tendrils were a signature of the faith, which stood in opposition to all others.
“The tales of the ‘White Death’ plague unleashed by the Nameless Chaos are no joke,” he reflected, recalling the devastation it caused.
The aftermath of the plague was still evident in the southern desert regions, a grim reminder of the chaos caused by the once-known deity. The civilization was now split between the Light-ruled White Empire and the Immortal-led Black Empire, with the Nameless Chaos hidden from the public eye.
Isaac found himself residing in the ‘Codex of Light’ monastery, a place antithetical to his chosen faith. As a secret follower of the Nameless Chaos, his survival depended on maintaining this façade.
“Fortunately, no one saw me,” he breathed a sigh of relief.
Despite the risks, he knew he had to adapt and survive among the followers of the Codex of Light. His knowledge of different faiths and his resourcefulness gave him a fighting chance in this unforgiving world.
The routine life in the monastery offered little respite for Isaac. Bound by the daily rituals of prayer, labor, meals, and sleep, he was constantly on edge, strategizing ways to stay alive.
Adhering to the dominant ‘Codex of Light’ order provided him with some protection, but he remained vigilant. Survival was all that mattered in this precarious existence.
***
As the monastery bell signaled the start of morning prayers, Isaac joined the other monks in the chapel. Outwardly participating in the rituals, his mind was consumed with thoughts of survival.
Living under the strict regimen of the monastery left little room for personal comfort or special treatment. Isaac’s status as a survivor offered no privileges; resources were scarce, and attention from the limited staff was minimal.
“The sanctuary of the ‘Codex of Light’ may be my saving grace,” he reflected, acknowledging the order’s influence and stability in the tumultuous world around him.
No matter what faith you pick, at some point, you gotta deal with the ‘Codex of Light’ one way or another. Isaac, he really knew his way around the whole setup, the body stuff, and all the secret stuff the ‘Codex of Light’ had going on.
Even though this monastery looked more like a side gig instead of the main deal, Isaac had no trouble digging up useful intel. If the game lore still checked out, flying under the radar here wouldn’t be too tough.
“You know, this world hasn’t really kicked off yet.”
Isaac was cool as a cucumber about his whole deal because he had memories of being ‘Isaac’ for 14 years.
That line about the world not starting yet was kinda weird to him. But hey, it was the real deal. The ‘now’ in this world was about four years before Nameless Chaos game started.
“Four years down the line, the big faith showdown kicks off.”
Basically, it’s a huge showdown involving a bunch of alliances and beef, mostly between the ‘Codex of Light’ and the ‘Immortal Cult’. Players gotta lead their faith to victory or switch sides for that sweet win.
“Apostasy…”
Let’s be real, since Nameless Chaos is public enemy number one, going rogue seemed like a pretty good move. But Isaac’s race, the ‘Nephilim,’ come packed with the ‘cursed blood’ tag.
Nephilims with this ‘cursed blood’ label aren’t popular with the gods. Seems harsh for angel-human mixes, but the lore says Nephilims can yoink miracles from any faith they’re linked to, no divine approval needed.
Even with faith, some folks are gonna play dirty.
They might even steal miracles while praying to another god.
No wonder no faith was rolling out the welcome mat for Nephilims.
And don’t forget the apostasy penalties. Gods ain’t into their followers flipping sides willy-nilly. The curse that comes with it might make you seriously think about hitting reset and starting from scratch.
But unclear if Isaac had that reset choice.
So, like he decided at the start, holding onto and hiding his faith in the ‘Nameless Chaos’ was his only play. Luckily, after what went down a month ago, ‘Nameless Chaos’ didn’t look like a pushover.
But if he got found out, it’d be open season on him.
“Four years on the clock.”
Time’s a-tickin’ and yet feels like forever.
Isaac knew where all the secret spots and loot were and the game world’s history inside out. Might not all still be in the same spots, but grabbing them quick would be smart for his power-up journey.
Issue was Isaac’s bod was major weak sauce right now.
Looking at his scrawny arms and legs, he knew it wasn’t about being mistreated; the monastery just didn’t have much, and the monks kept things simple.
“Gotta beef up this bod first.”
Got to be able to walk without passing out, at the very least.
***
Nameless Chaos was a game that pretty much no one could beat. Some folks were cool just playing, but Isaac had aced it eight times, joining a different faith each run.
For the ‘Codex of Light’ crew, having a champ like him was a big deal.
The hero, who could one day save the holy land and battle monsters, sat at the dining table feeling totally bummed out.
“Seriously, is this supposed to be a meal?” Isaac muttered, eyeing the sad spread in front of him. The daily menu was as boring as it gets – plain porridge, boring boiled potatoes, and a tiny piece of bread.
It was just your typical bland breakfast.
The other kids dug into their food without a second thought, but Isaac was struggling.
“You not hungry, Isaac?” asked a monk, concerned. Isaac wanted to complain, but the monk wouldn’t understand his real issue.
It wasn’t just the mediocre food that bothered him.
“Ugh, all carbs…” Isaac sighed, realizing he couldn’t be picky. This meal was actually pretty decent for this time of year. Sometimes, they were lucky to even get a bowl of porridge.
In the game, you could survive without eating, but in real life, this kind of food would turn anyone as skinny as the monks. And they were all eating the same sad stuff.
A kid… and hungry?
A kid… missing out on essential nutrients for growth?
“A bowl of porridge away from looking like a monk,” Isaac thought, feeling the reality sink in.
***
After finishing his chores, Isaac flopped onto his makeshift bed in the crowded dorm room. Personal space? What’s that? All the orphans shared this cramped space with nothing but a straw bed and a thin blanket.
As he stared at the ceiling, sleep was nowhere in sight. It wasn’t discomfort or realizing his past that kept him up.
“Is this really how I have to live?” Isaac wondered, feeling the weight of his tough circumstances. If there was hope for a better future, maybe he could push through. But as an orphan with no one to turn to, living in poverty with no chance to grow?
“Should I just bolt out of this place?” The thought crossed his mind. But at 14, with all his modern knowledge, this harsh reality was no game. Survival here was no joke.
Amid his frustration, Isaac found himself praying – or at least trying to. It wasn’t proper prayers, just a quiet plea to the universe as he clasped his hands, hoping for a better tomorrow.
“Please, let there be meat tonight,” Isaac whispered, yearning for something more than the scraps he was used to. Dinner brought a glimmer of hope with a bit of cheese, but it was still not enough for the growing boy.
Sharing his meager portion with Murzik, the monastery cat, Isaac couldn’t help but feel the unfairness of it all. Once used to tastier fare, he now longed for the flavors of his old life.
How’s that?
“Even though it wasn’t that extreme, the fact that this skinny 14-year-old dude had to hit the sack hungry was super messed up.
“How am I supposed to get enough protein? Maybe I should start growing beans?'”
While Isaac was lost in thought, the door slowly swung open. Thinking it was one of the monks coming to check on the kids, Isaac quickly turned and pretended to be going to sleep. But the figure that entered was surprisingly small.
“Murzik.”
The monastery’s lazy ‘champtiger’… oh, wait, it’s actually just a cat named Murzik.
Murzik was a cool cat living in the monastery. Instead of being pampered, it was mostly left to do its own thing as a mouser.
“Meow.”
“Did you do your job?”
Instead of getting scolded for slacking off on mouse-catching, Murzik showed up with a dead mouse in its mouth. Isaac briefly thought it might be a thank-you for the evening cheese, but it wasn’t exactly a welcome gift.
Still, Murzik, like expecting a pat on the back, came over to the bed and dropped the mouse. Isaac casually petted Murzik’s head and picked up the mouse by its tail to get rid of it.
It was still warm, freshly taken out. Suddenly, a weird idea popped into Isaac’s head.
“It’s technically meat.”
But obviously, Isaac, being all modern and stuff, had zero plans of chowing down on a mouse.
[The Nameless Chaos is watching you.]
“What the heck?”
Startled by the unexpected noise, Isaac suddenly felt a sharp poke in his palm.
“Huh?”
Thinking the mouse bit him, Isaac freaked out and tossed it away. But out of nowhere, red tendrils shot out and snatched the mouse.
Not from nowhere. From Isaac’s own palm.
“?!”
Thin tendrils coming out of Isaac’s flesh quickly enveloped the mouse’s body.
The plump field mouse, munching on fallen grains, was bigger than Isaac’s palm. But it got sucked into his hand in no time.
Crunch, crunch.
After gobbling up the mouse, the tendrils pulled back into his palm. The sounds of breaking flesh and bones faded away, leaving the room silent again. Just Isaac and Murzik stood there, trying to process what the heck just happened.
Then another message popped up for Isaac.
[You’ve eaten a ‘field mouse.’]
[Your ‘Predation’ ability has boosted consumption efficiency.]
[Resistance to puny diseases has gone up.]
[Blessing will last until digestion is done.]
