The beast's shadow swallowed Philippa as its massive clawed hand came down again. She threw herself sideways, but not fast enough. The edge of the strike caught her hip, spinning her violently. Pain exploded along her side where the cracked rib protested. She hit the blood-slick pavement hard, the impact jarring her teeth. Warm blood from her own wounds mixed with the thick pool already spreading beneath her.
She rolled immediately, knife still clutched in her slippery grip. The creature roared and lunged, jaws wide enough to take her head. Philippa drove the blade upward with everything she had left. The serrated edge punched through the soft underside of its jaw and kept going, tearing into the roof of its mouth. Cartilage and tissue parted with a wet, ripping crunch. Hot blood and saliva sprayed down in a heavy cascade, soaking her hair and face. The metallic taste flooded her mouth as some of it went down her throat. She gagged but kept twisting the knife, widening the wound until dark fluid poured out in rhythmic gushes.
The beast convulsed, its massive body shuddering. One final thrash of its tail caught her across the back, slamming her face-first into the ground again. She tasted dirt and blood. Her vision swam for a second, but the vitality from her earlier sacrifice kept her conscious.
[Sacrifice System: Vitality Boost holding. Echo Ripple intensifying — physical pain feedback now transferring to nearby living entities within 15 meters.]
Philippa almost wanted to laugh at the timing. Of course the ripple would get stronger right when she was bleeding the most. She could already feel it leaking outward — a ghost of her burning hip and cracked rib brushing against anyone close enough. Including him.
Sylcath stepped closer, crimson energy flickering around his fingers. He looked mildly impressed, but the smirk never left his face.
"Still breathing? You're more stubborn than you look." He glanced at the dying beast. "But look at the mess you're making. All that blood just… wasted."
Before Philippa could push herself up, Sylcath raised his hand toward the convulsing creature. Crimson light flared brighter. The beast froze mid-thrash, body jerking violently as invisible force tore into it. There was a sickening wet tearing sound, like muscle being ripped from bone. A glowing chunk of essence ripped free from the creature's chest cavity, trailing strands of dark blood and tissue. The beast let out one last gurgling scream before collapsing in a heap, its opened chest still leaking thick fluid onto the street.
Sylcath caught the stolen essence in his palm and absorbed it with a slow, satisfied breath. His posture straightened slightly, as if the new power settled comfortably into his body.
Philippa forced herself to her feet, knife dripping. Pain flared sharply along her ribs with every breath, but she refused to show it. "You just steal what other people bleed for," she said, voice rough. "How noble."
He tilted his head, studying her. For a brief moment his smirk faltered as the Echo Ripple hit him harder — a faint echo of her cracked rib and the burning cut on her hip. He pressed a hand to his own side instinctively, then dropped it with a soft scoff.
"Better than carving pieces out of yourself like some desperate martyr," he replied. His tone was light, but there was a sharper edge beneath it now. "At least I keep what I take. You? You're bleeding yourself dry for scraps."
Philippa wiped blood from her eyes with the back of her wrist, leaving another dark smear across her face. She could feel more rifts opening nearby — the air crackled with that wrong, glassy sound again. Smaller creatures were already skittering out of fresh tears further down the street, drawn by the noise and the heavy smell of slaughter.
She didn't have time for this argument. Her brother was still trapped upstairs in the apartment. She needed to clear a path back or find a safer spot to regroup.
Sylcath seemed to read her thoughts. He gestured lazily at the growing chaos. "You're thinking of running back to whatever hole you crawled out of, aren't you? With that leaking System of yours, you'll just attract more of them. Or worse — attract people like me who know how to take advantage."
One of the smaller skitterers broke away from the pack and darted straight toward Philippa. She met it with a savage downward stab. The knife split its head open with a juicy crunch, pale pus and dark blood exploding outward, splattering her already ruined clothes. The creature's legs curled inward with soft, wet clicks as it died.
Another two came at her from the side. She spun, slashing low. The blade caught the first across the thorax, slicing deep enough to expose glistening innards that spilled onto the ground in a slippery pile. The second latched onto her lower leg, barbs sinking into flesh. Pain flared hot and bright. She felt the barbs tear muscle as she pried it off with her free hand and slammed it against the pavement. Its body burst open with a wet pop, insides smearing across the concrete.
Her breathing was ragged now. The Echo Ripple was definitely spreading — she saw a nearby survivor stumble and clutch his own side, mirroring her cracked rib for a moment before shaking it off.
Sylcath watched it all with narrowed eyes. He took another step closer, crimson energy gathering again in his palm as he looked at her bleeding leg and the fresh wounds.
"Last chance, trader," he said, voice low. "Keep wasting yourself and you'll be easy pickings. Or…"
He didn't finish the sentence. One of the larger rift beasts — heavier than the last, with spiked shoulders and dripping mandibles — pushed fully through a new tear and locked its multiple eyes onto Philippa. It charged with a wet, rattling roar, spiked limbs tearing up the blood-soaked street as it closed the distance fast.
Philippa yanked the knife free from the dead skitterer and turned to face the new threat, muscles screaming, blood running down her leg in warm rivulets. She felt the next sacrifice burning on her tongue, ready to be offered, as the creature's shadow fell over her and Sylcath raised his glowing hand, whether to steal from the beast or from her remaining strength still undecided—