Extra Borne: Transmigrated Into A System Apocalypse Soulsborne Novel-Chapter 44 - 42: Roamers

The word Roamers lingered in my mind like a shadow creeping over a dying flame. Dangerous creatures... ones even the being resembling Celia had warned me to avoid. And yet here I was, listening to this woman calmly suggest that I should hunt them down.

Why?

The question twisted in my thoughts, but before I could voice it, her gaze met mine, and she spoke, her voice steady, almost soothing. "I know what you’re thinking," she said, her tone carrying a hint of something.. sympathy, perhaps? "It must seem like a death sentence to face creatures you cannot confront head-on."

I let her words hang in the air for a moment, my expression unreadable. Then, I responded, my voice low and calm, cutting through the tense atmosphere. "I won’t face them head-on."

Her eyes flickered with curiosity, but she didn’t interrupt as I continued. "I need every detail you have about them. Their traits, their patterns, their weaknesses, and their whereabouts. Everything." I paused deliberately, letting the weight of my request settle before adding, "But before that…"

I shifted in my bindings, the cold bite of the void chains still pressing into my skin. Though my tone remained neutral, the subtle movement was enough to make my point.

She understood. Without a word, she nodded and stood, her dark armor catching the dim light of the room as she moved behind me. I couldn’t see what she did, but I felt it.

The chains loosened, the oppressive weight on my limbs fading as the void restraints slipped from my wrists, ankles, and torso. A faint clinking sound echoed as they fell to the floor, each link seeming heavier than it had any right to be.

Freedom.

I rolled my shoulders, stretching my wrists and flexing my fingers, feeling the familiar flow of energy returning to my body. Yet I didn’t rush or show any outward sign of urgency. My movements were slow, calm, even measured.

"I’ll return shortly," she said, her voice breaking the silence. "There’s something I need to bring you." Without waiting for a response, she turned and left, her steps fading into the distance.

The door creaked shut behind her, leaving me alone.

For the first time since I awoke in this forsaken place, I had a moment to think.. to piece everything together. I leaned back against the chair, letting my gaze wander over the dimly lit room. The air smelled faintly of damp wood and ash, a sharp contrast to the cool metallic taste that still lingered in my mouth from the void chains.

My mind turned to the fight with Geralt, to the mist ability I had gained. I began to focus, analyzing every fragment of power that now coursed through me.

The first ability stood out like a glowing ember in the fog of my thoughts: Mist Clone Creation. I could manifest two clones, each crafted from the swirling mists of my power. They weren’t just illusions; they could wield weapons, fight alongside me, and confuse my enemies.

The second ability was subtler but no less deadly: Mist Weapon Imbuement. Any weapon I held could be cloaked in mist, rendering it unseen and unpredictable, a perfect tool for silent strikes and deception.

Then there was the third ability.. a revelation that made my lips curl into a faint smirk. Mist Parasite. The potential of this one was staggering. It allowed me to infest objects or living things, gaining complete control over them. The implications were endless, and I knew that mastering it would be a game changer.

As I pondered these powers, my thoughts drifted toward what might come next. The second evolution was within reach, and with it would come new abilities, ones I couldn’t yet fathom. But it wasn’t just about raw power; it was about strategy, adaptability, and survival.

I didn’t let myself dwell too long on hypotheticals. There was work to be done.

The door creaked open, drawing my attention. She entered, her movements as composed as before, carrying a rolled-up parchment.

"I have the map with me," she said, her voice cutting through the silence.

I turned towards her and noticed the faint creak of aged wood under her armored boots. She moved deliberately, dragging a weathered wooden table from the corner of the abandoned cottage. Its surface was marred with scratches and stains, a relic of whatever lives had once occupied this place.

The table groaned slightly as she set it at the center of the room, the sound echoing softly in the still air. I stepped closer, drawn by a faint sense of purpose radiating from her. The parchment she unfurled onto the table was old and delicate, the edges frayed and the ink faded but still legible.

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"These are the grassy plains area of Ithelvaire," she began, her voice steady, tracing her finger along a faintly marked path on the map. Her touch was calm, almost reverent, as though each line and curve held a secret only she could decipher.

My eyes followed her hand as it stopped abruptly at a darkened patch of the map. The ink here was bolder, the edges jagged, as if the cartographer had pressed harder in either fear or desperation.

"And here," she said, her voice lowering slightly, "this is where the Roamers are. There aren’t many in this area.. it’s better than venturing into their main zone, where survival is…" She paused, letting the words hang in the air like a blade poised to fall. "…unlikely for anyone who isn’t strong enough."

Her calm delivery stung more than it should have, brushing against the fragile pride I clung to. It wasn’t outright disdain, but it felt close enough to make my jaw tighten.

I studied the map as she continued to speak, detailing the surrounding areas, each place tinged with its own dangers. Despite the alternatives she laid out, I found myself drawn to her first suggestion. The plains of Ithelvaire, with their lurking predators, felt like the lesser evil.

"I’ll take this route," I said, my voice cutting through her explanation.

She paused, her gaze flickering toward me before offering a slight nod of agreement. "Wise choice," she replied. Her words were calm, but her expression betrayed nothing... neither approval nor doubt.

With the location settled, I turned my attention fully to her. The map was only part of the puzzle; what I needed now was knowledge.

"Now," I began, my tone sharpening like a blade, "it’s time you tell me everything about these creatures. Their patterns, their weaknesses and how I can hunt them without facing them head-on."

She stood silent for a moment, her dark red hair shifting slightly as a faint draft swept through the room. Her brown eyes met mine, and there was something behind them... a flicker of brief hesitation, perhaps, or simply the weight of the knowledge she carried.

Finally, she opened her mouth to speak.