Looks like the Gods were as fallible as any other human, Salem thought as much when she sees a savage from the depths of the Western desert come walking out after killing several Beowulves. Kill every human on the planet, she scoffed, guess they missed a spot. The savage walked up to her with suspicious eyes as he held out his little spear of his, how pitiful, she was quite mad right now… and if all of humanity isn't dead yet then who would miss a single lost tribal from suddenly going missing?

Salem held out a palm and sent a concentrated blast of magic at the savage, completely obliterating his top half as blood and gore sprayed across the vibrant red forest. She still had a ways to go until she reached her destination, but killing that savage did provide her with some relief after facing off those bastard Gods. Salem continued on her walk before a sound stopped her in her tracks, turning around, she watched as the blood and guts of the savage began violently coalescing at his bottom half, destroying several trees as the parts shot back at such intensity that it broke through the wood.

The savage's top half reformed before he woke up with a gasp, quickly scrambling to his feet and looking around for his pitiful spear, angrily grunting when he realized that Salem vaporized the tool with her magic. Salem raised an eyebrow outwardly, but internally her mind was going faster than a hungry Beowulf catching onto the scent of blood, this… savage was immortal? No, it couldn't be… Something then clicked inside of her head; this must be the outsider that the God of Darkness was talking about… the curiosity, that marble that fell into the fountain as she did…

The savage held out his fists, "Monster," he spoke with a snarl, his knuckles clenched until it was white, "Plasma? No…" the man mumbled to himself, "Couldn't be… nor could it…" Salem sighed, just her luck that the only other immortal beside herself was a raving lunatic; she sent forth another wave of magic that reduced him into nothing but ash. If anything, that'd at least silence the fool for the next minute or so.

The ash quickly reformed, clothes and all, even the man looked surprised at that, "No hesitation about reducing someone to nothing," he said slowly, "Your eyes are as empty as your soul, I denounce you and your actions." He pointed at Salem accusingly; she scoffed, as if the opinion of some tribal would make her rethink her actions, Salem quickly batted away the scorched spearhead that the tribal threw at her, painfully slow for someone of her calibre. Her eyes widened when she felt a punch at her midsection, causing her to double over as she clutched her stomach.

The tribal then attempted to kick her in the head; Salem quickly blasted him with magic, obliterating his torso and spraying some of his blood all over her, disgusting. Wiping away the blood, she felt something dig into her flesh before shooting out from the other side, a piece of the savage's torso shot right through her's violently as it recombined to make the man again. Salem coughed out some blood as her hand hovered over the new hole in her body.

"Why are you doing this?" The savage was blasted far away as Salem felt the hole in her body knit itself back together, "Why must we fight?" he coughed, hand grabbing the burn mark on his stomach as a result of Salem's blast, "We both know that this is pointless, there's no outcome to this that would benefit you or I positively," he sighed, "Despite your empty look, I can see the… the determination behind those eyes, you know something I don't…"

Salem snorted, "There are many things that I know that you don't," she spat, "Worthless savage, why don't you return to your little desert tribe instead of meddling in the affairs of more important people," the savage grimaced, "Or have they been all dusted like the rest? If so, why haven't you gone with them?" Salem smirked as the savage looks the other way, "Did I touch a nerve? Can't handle the truth?"

"You are the same as I then," the savage snarled, "I walked through the desert alone, fighting off all manner of beasts and stumbling across empty villages, tribes, all now nothing more than the sand beneath the sun," he sighed, "I've lost people, and I believe that you have too," Salem grits her teeth, "Yet I can't join them, the same as you, in rightful death, why is it that I must continue to endure while they get to rest?"

"It's not fair."

"Nothing ever is."

Salem leaned against a tree, watching as the red leaves swayed lightly in the wind, the savage sat down on the grass, picking away at the blades while wincing whenever the wind would hit his burn, "I believe that I found a way to rid myself of immortality," the savage perked up at this, "Far to the Northwest laid a continent swarming with Grimm, where none would ever tread," he looked confused at this, "The 'shadow monsters' that you speak of, they came from that land, and within that land lies the answer to my… to our curse, something that would make people like us mortal again… something that would deliver upon us our destined death."

"Would it?" the savage raised an eyebrow, "Would it really?" he had a hopeful glint in his eyes, Salem nodded, the man was like her, seeking death the same way she was. She breathed out; maybe she'll get to see Ozma again in the afterlife, the same way that tribal will see his loved ones as well. Is this what Ozma called being… compassionate? Being empathetic? Such concepts matters little to Salem, if she can accomplish her goals, then what does it matter if someone else comes along for the same thing. She'd be doing them both a favour. Hell, they owe her for this.

"How long have you been walking? Through the desert I mean," Salem asked the savage, she's been traversing Remnant for so long that everything was blurring together. She stumbled across empty villages and cities here and there, a reminder of her failure against the Gods, but other than that and the occasional Grimm attack, nothing really stood out. Animals still exist, so do the Grimm, what a sick joke. And they call themselves Gods? "I don't know how long it's been since my first step out of that accursed Domain…"

"Why do you presume that I know?" the savage plucked a blade of grass off of the ground, "Reminiscing on lost time won't matter when we're dead," he stood up, throwing the grass away and turning to where Salem said the Land of Darkness was, to the Northwest, "I'd rather not spend another day alive in this place."

"Let's go then."

The two began walking once again, the act now painfully familiar to the immortals as they traverse the dense red forest. Beowulves lurked from the trees as they observe the travellers, these ones were older Grimm, more capable of intelligent decision making seeing how they watch instead of mindlessly charging in to attack, "Use your magic to destroy them," the savage suggested, "They'll come attacking once we're asleep."

"You fall asleep?" the savage nodded, "I don't, so why the difference?" the savage looked surprised at this.

"You don't feel hunger or thirst?" Salem shook her head, "What about fatigue?" another shake of the head, "Looks like my immortality's different than yours, though I don't know why…"

Salem mulled over the thought as she sent forth several magic projectiles to smite the lurking Beowulves, the bolts slamming into their unprotected heads as they drop to the ground, dissipating into nothing. The blast ruffled the leaves, causing some birds to take off due to the disturbance. The savage stopped in his tracks when a crack of a branch was heard from deep within the woods, "I need something sharp," he said to Salem, "Otherwise I'm as helpful as a normal person against this threat."

True, he didn't have magic; Salem crouched down and picked up a rock before using her magic to sharpen it, the savage grabbed it gingerly, "That'll do," he said before placing the edge near his finger, Salem readied herself as she heard the approach of another Grimm, a much bigger one this time. Salem's ears perked up at the sound of clicking, extremely close by, it's almost as if the sound is coming from something right next to her. She turned her head towards the sound to see nothing but more trees. The clicking continues, the sound getting farther and farther away while she felt the vibrations of the grass intensify.

Poking its head through the trees was a Grimm nearly double their size, with long, gangly arms and legs as it peered down at the two; its head was protected by a misshapen skull of a deer, with four antlers poking out from either side. Red eyes trained on the two as it silently moved between the trees, Salem heard the clicking sound again, this time farther away while the Grimm slowly lumbered its way towards them, she focused on the sound, noticing that as the Grimm got closer, the clicking gets farther and farther away… interesting…

"A Wendigore," the savage took a step back, "My tribe told stories about these creatures, a beast with pitch black skin and a skull with horns fitted atop its head," he sliced off his finger with the sharpened rock, wincing when he grabbed it with his other hand, putting the rock to the side of his waist as the savage closed an eye, Salem readied her magic, "Neither bison nor deer, it's something different entirely…"

The Wendigore opened its mouth as a soft melodic hum emanated from it; the hum was much like the clicking, the sound getting farther and farther away as it got closer physically. The savage threw his dismembered finger over the Grimm's head, watching as it landed behind the monster, he then grabbed the sharpened rock and held it up to his throat, he hesitated. Salem watched as the Wendigore growled, crouching down as it dashed towards them at great speeds, knuckles dragging across the ground as it ran at them on all fours. Salem shot a few bolts of magic at the thing but it all bounced off of its skull mask and skin, despite it not having any obvious armour, maybe the skin was durable in of itself…

The savage pushed the rock through his throat before collapsing; Salem shot a bolt of magic at the Wendigore's head, sending it reeling back from the blast. Salem took a step to the side as the savage's finger shot back at incredible speeds, penetrating the Grimm like it was a crossbow bolt before reattaching with the man, the Grimm screeched, the sound still sounded like it came from far away as Salem clicked her tongue before jumping away from the savage's downed body, watching as the Wendigore snatched him up with its spindly fingers. Meanwhile its other hand was poking at the small hole through its stomach due to the savage's finger projectile.

The savage stared up at the Grimm as its mouth opened before clamping down on his head; the savage's headless body went limp as the Wendigore dropped him like a sack of potatoes. Salem watched as the Grimm's head blew open as the savage's head shot out of its mouth, shattering its skull mask before reattaching to his body. Now its head was exposed, Salem fired a beam of concentrated magic at the Grimm, completely disintegrating its head as it dropped to the ground, reduced to nothing but Dust as it began dissipating.

"That thing was new," Salem remarked, watching as the savage stood up and dusted himself off, "I thought I've seen all there was to the Grimm."

"Legends and fables have some degree of truth to them," the savage scratched his neck, "My tribe told tales of a lurking predator, twice as big as the average tribesman while moving faster than a Beowulf on the hunt, I'd be more concerned if there were more than one Wendigore."

"We'll be stepping into the Grimm continent," Salem watched as the Wendigore's remains were blown away by the winds, "And with every human now gone… they'll spill out to the surrounding areas, especially this land seeing as how close it is to the continent," Salem's eyes hardened, "We're fighting our way to that Land, and soon through it as well, surprises are bound to happen…"

The savage nodded, "Well spoken." Maybe she misjudged the man, for a tribal savage, he spoke quite eloquently.

"My name is Salem." She said, nodding at the tribal, maybe he wasn't the raving lunatic that she thought he was before.

"My people call me the Chosen One." Nevermind.

The journey towards the Grimm continent begins, if you have any suggestions for a new kind of Grimm then feel free to type it down to the reviews (this is not engagement bait, trust :))

The Chosen One's immortality and healing is more like a violent rewind as all of his core components comes flying back, destroying everything in its path before reforming the guy.

Salem's immortality is like increased healing and regeneration, the flesh and bone just forms itself back together.

Thanks for reading!