Eo drifted in silence, his small form carried by the currents as his thoughts churned. The battle had ended, but the echoes of violence lingered. His body was sore, marked with wounds that would take time to heal. Yet, it wasn’t the injuries that occupied his mind.

  It was that feeling.

  Something had awakened within him during the fight. A force that sharpened his instincts, made him faster, stronger, more vicious. It had pushed him beyond his limits, filling his body with raw energy. But in exchange, it had clouded his mind.

  For a moment, he had lost control.

  Eo did not like that.

  He valued his ability to observe, to think, to analyze. But in that moment of bloodlust, his thoughts had been drowned out by the overwhelming urge to attack, to destroy. He had chased after prey without strategy, thrown himself into danger without care. And he had almost died because of it.

  But there was another side to this ability. The creatures had feared him. Even the scavengers, who acted purely on hunger, had recoiled as if sensing something unnatural.

  Why?

  He tested it.

  Eo stirred slightly, pushing the same sensation outward, like an invisible ripple. The small creatures in the distance flinched—a reaction so clear, so absolute. Some froze, others immediately turned and fled.

  Fascinating.

  He repeated the process, this time more controlled, more deliberate. Again, the reaction was the same. Fear. They could feel something emanating from him, something that warned them to stay away.

  Eo stored this information carefully.

  This newfound force—this bloodlust—was not just a wild impulse. It was something he could use. Not just in battle, but to influence his surroundings. To assert dominance without even moving.

  A weapon.

  A tool.

  But it was dangerous. He had already seen its drawbacks. If he let it take over again, he would become reckless. He needed control.

  So, he would master it.

  Slowly, he let himself sink deeper into the water, allowing his body to rest. But his mind remained active, already planning the next step.

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  He would refine this ability, break it down, understand its limits.

  And when the next battle came, he would not be ruled by bloodlust.

  He would rule it.

  Eo remained in place, his body still, yet his mind restless. The water around him carried the faint scent of blood, a reminder of the chaotic battle he had barely escaped. His body ached, his wounds burning with each pulse of energy still coursing through his form. The raw sensation of bloodlust still lingered beneath his flesh, like a smoldering ember waiting to be rekindled.

  He had gained something valuable today, but it was not yet complete.

  The creatures feared him. That much was certain. But fear alone was not enough to ensure survival. It was a tool, a deterrent, but against those that refused to run, he would need more than just intimidation.

  He needed absolute control.

  A flicker of movement caught his attention. A mid-sized predator, one of the survivors of the previous battle, was circling in the distance. Unlike the smaller scavengers, this one did not immediately flee from his presence. Instead, it hesitated, watching him carefully.

  Eo focused on it.

  His body was exhausted, but this was the perfect chance to test his discovery in a real encounter.

  He let his presence rise again, slowly, deliberately. Not like before, when it had surged uncontrollably, but measured, a steady pulse flowing outward like ripples in the water.

  The predator froze.

  For a moment, its body tensed, muscles coiling as if preparing to retreat. Yet, it did not. It resisted, fighting against the invisible weight pressing upon it.

  Interesting.

  So, there was a limit. The smaller creatures had fled instantly, but stronger beings could endure the pressure—at least, for a time.

  Eo pushed further.

  The sensation thickened, the invisible force of his bloodlust wrapping around the predator like unseen tendrils. He could see it now—the way its body twitched, how its movements became erratic, its instincts warning it that something was terribly wrong.

  The moment it tried to turn, Eo struck.

  His body surged forward, sharp appendages slicing through the water as he lunged. His attack was clumsy, his injuries slowing him down, but the hesitation he had planted in his prey’s mind was enough.

  The predator flinched too late.

  His strike landed, cutting deep into its side. A burst of dark fluid spilled into the water, and the creature thrashed in pain.

  Eo expected it to retaliate, but instead, it did something surprising.

  It fled.

  Not as an act of tactical retreat, nor as an attempt to regroup.

  It fled in panic.

  Eo watched as the wounded predator darted into the shadows, abandoning the fight completely. It was not running from his attack. It was running from him.

  His presence. His intent.

  His bloodlust.

  Eo remained motionless, letting the realization sink in.

  So, this was more than just a simple enhancement in battle. It was a weapon of the mind. A presence that could crush the will of his enemies before the fight even began.

  But it was not perfect.

  He had felt it in that moment—the struggle. If the predator had been stronger, more determined, it might have resisted longer. There were limits to how far he could push it, limits to how long he could maintain this effect.

  Still, the potential was undeniable.

  He would refine it.

  The next time, he would not simply frighten his prey.

  He would paralyze them. Make them collapse beneath the weight of his will, unable to move, unable to fight. To break their spirit before their bodies.

  This power was still new, raw, incomplete.

  But with time…

  It would become something far more terrifying.