The silence before death was deafening.
Arin stood up on shaky legs, half-illuminated by the crimson light of the Blood Moon. The air was heavy and cloying, charged with an unnatural tension that seeped into his marrow like a press. He breathed hard and jerky, mouth dry, fingers chilled on the hilt of his sword. Dry blood smeared over his cheek in a red stripe like warpaint—warpaint belonging to him alone.
Before him, the Wrathborne Savager stepped completely through the dark mouth of the gate.
Enormous, a minimum of twelve feet in height. Its form was a gorilla-like form—twisted arms dragging clawed fists across blood-smeared earth—although encased in armor plating upon its skin made up of jagged red bone that writhed with hissing heat. One eye glowed as hot as a blast-furnace beneath its crown-like bone-horns. Its respiration came in a snort of black steam that hissed forth with each outbreath. Wherever its foot touched dungeon ground, it cracked and started to bleed.
It resembled less of a monster and more so an expression of war's wrath.
Arin swallowed hard. His eyes didn't blink. He couldn't. If he did, he might miss his only chance to live.
[MINI-BOSS: WRATHBORNE SAVAGER – LV. 20]
[WARNING: BOSS ENTITY CONTAINS WRATH-MANA. PHYSICAL & MENTAL THREAT LEVEL: EXTREME]
[HOST LEVEL IS PRESENTLY LOWER THAN THE MONSTER (presently level 13)]
[HOST HAS BEEN AFFECTED BY THE ABNORMAL CONDITION, FEAR. ALL STATS REDUCE BY 10% FOR 5mints]
His head spun with pain, reaction and cold calculation.
No mana. Half dead. Blinded in one eye. No healing. No escape possible.
With stats reduced even more by the abnormal condition, FEAR.
And now that monster.
The Savager roared—and the dungeon shook.
The sound wasn't loud alone; it sliced through air like a blade and tore leaves from dark trees and generated a shock that struck Arin in the center with a blow. He staggered backward and slammed into broken stone pillars. He clenched his teeth in agony as his ribs burned and his eyes went hazy. For half a beat, his hold faltered.
"Move," he grumbled to himself.
He stumbled even as Savager's fist descended upon where he'd been standing. The ground exploded into splinters. Stone fragments flew past Arin's face as he tumbled into the thicket, his lungs afire, his heart almost bursting from his torso.
"It is no fight," he grumbled, dodging under a twisted limb as he trudged through the charred and dark forest. The moon moved overhead like the eye of a cursed deity.
"This is a grave. Mine… or his."
The monster pursued without hesitation. For its size, it moved disgustingly quick. Trees exploded apart as it ripped through them. Its half-speech snarls were guttural with sorcery-syllables. Arin's Demon's Eyes flashed as he caught a glimpse of glyphs on its horns.
Wrath. Devour. Crush. Break.
Those words weren't decorative. They were curses. Arin knew them—Cedric had once carved similar runes into weapons meant for siege beasts. This wasn't just a monster—it was a living curse.
He hunched behind a ridge of bone-washed rock and panted hard. He wrung his hand as he drew out a small sword from his belt—curved and short and little more than a dagger.
Not sufficient.
That is all he had.
He looked up at blood-soaked woods—trees writhing in agony, shadow-burdened fog, and moonlight's oppressive glow—and something within him altered.
"...I'm going to die."
It wasn't fear now. At least, not exactly. It was clarity.
Every corner in this world did not want him to be alive. Not the dungeon. Not the moon. And definitely never the beast chasing him.
And yet he still didn't fall.
Not while he was being ambushed.
Not after fighting single-handedly for 300 years against the Empire and the goddess.
Not when the blood moon tried to drain his mana.
Not even as his own soul cried out in corruption.
So why die now?
Arin closed his eyes. He remembered the Whispering Tree's voice.
"Like I expected… he returned."
Why was he reincarnated? how and for what purpose, was Cedric the reason for his rebirth?
He didn't know. He didn't care anymore.
"Let's see how far I can push this stolen life," he whispered—and leapt from cover.
The Savager wheeled about in time to see him dash quickly and low. Arin dodged its mad arm and slashed along its thigh. The blade scraped armor but ripped away a spatter of heavy dark blood.
The beast shrieked and spun about, arm cracking into Arin's back like an iron club. He went crashing again, ragdolling into mud and water, spewing blood into his mouth.
Yet—he stood.
Shattered, hunched over, bleeding. And
And smiling.
"You went through that as well, didn't you?" Arin spat blood from his mouth. "I am not falling. Not now."
The Savager roared again—louder, deeper. The dungeon trembled. Arin's smile faded as the creature hunched forward, blood armor cracking, steam venting from beneath its plates. Its eye burned brighter.
Something was changing.
A low hum filled the air. Red lightning danced along its horns. The ground around it began to die—leaves withered, bark blackened.
The System blared:
[WARNING: MINI-BOSS ENRAGED – STAGE I ACTIVATED]
To be continued...