[14th Everdusk 2103], CGA Branch, Dyna Crest Country
Verdant Hollow Dungeon – Stage 3: Goblin Village
The village smouldered in ruin. Craters split the Earth. Charred huts crackled as ash drifted like snow. At the center of the carnage stood the mutated Hobgoblin Warlord—no longer a mere monster, but a demon-infused juggernaut. His muscles bulged unnaturally beneath his twisted armour, veins pulsing with corrupted crimson energy. Eyes that once reflected primal cunning now blazed with raw, unhinged madness.
He wasn't rampaging blindly. His every step, every crushing blow, was deliberate—hunting. Hunting me.
Buried under the wreckage of a shattered hut, I groaned. My eyes fluttered open, vision swimming as pain throbbed through my ribs. For a moment, I couldn't remember what hit me.
Then I heard it—his roar. Deep. Monstrous. Growing louder with each heartbeat.
I shot up, adrenaline eclipsing pain. Broken wood scraped against my skin as I staggered to my feet. "Shit," I muttered, clutching my sword. "He's coming."
From across the village, I saw him—charging through the remains of huts like paper. He didn't run. He stalked. Each footfall cratered the earth, his mace dragging behind him like a war drum announcing death.
I wouldn't survive another direct hit.
Without thinking, I bolted.
I weaved through crumbling structures, sprinting toward the edge of the village. I needed distance—time to recover, reassess, and survive. If I could heal and wait for the debuff to wear off, maybe I'd stand a chance.
But luck had abandoned me.
The Hobgoblin's head jerked toward my position, eyes locking onto mine like a predator spotting prey. I saw it in his face—he had smelled me.
He charged.
The forest canopy shook as he tore through trees. His mace slammed down where I had stood a second earlier, obliterating a massive oak.
"Brother! It's been ten minutes! When does this power-up end?!" I yelled in frustration, breath ragged. "Didn't your cooldowns come with a limit?!"
No response—just a thunderous roar and relentless pursuit.
Each swing of his mace was like dodging a falling boulder. Every miss left shockwaves that shattered the trees around me. I danced between life and death, searching for any weakness.
But something wasn't right. This much power… it shouldn't be possible. His level hadn't risen beyond what my system could register—yet the Demonic mana pouring from him was continuous.
That meant only one thing. The source wasn't inside him.
My eyes widened. "The totem…"
That damned ritual. That's where it all started.
But I didn't get far before a haymaker caught my side. I raised my blade instinctively—blocking just in time—but the impact sent me flying like a broken kite.
I crashed through a line of huts, landing in a heap. My HP bar dipped dangerously low. My sword—cracked. Durability in the red.
I coughed, gritting my teeth as the Warlord roared again and charged.
[Undead Summon] [-32 MP]
A skeleton rose before me, gripping a rusted sword. Loyal. Brave. And utterly outmatched.
"Buy me time," I ordered, voice tight. The summon nodded and charged into the storm.
I turned and sprinted toward the ritual site.
Ten steps later, a notification pinged.
[Your summons have perished.]
'I won't forget your sacrifice, Mr. Skeleton,' I thought solemnly.
The totem site came into view—a twisted monument now reduced to glowing debris. And in its center hovered something. An object… no, a fragment. Ethereal. Incomprehensible. Invisible to the naked eye.
If not for my [Magical Focus], I wouldn't have seen it at all.
"That's the source…"
I struck it.
Nothing.
It didn't even flicker. Physical attacks were useless.
Then—another roar.
I turned. The Warlord had arrived.
No time to strategise. No tricks left. This had to end here.
I turned toward him, sword trembling in my hand. "Enough running."
He charged.
So did I.
But just as he swung his mace—
[Shadow Leap] [-25 MP]
I vanished, reappearing behind him. His head whipped around too late.
[Power Slash] [-15 MP]
Flames erupted as my blade carved into his back, tearing flesh and armour alike. Blood sprayed as he dropped to one knee, howling in pain.
"Still alive, huh?"
He clutched his wound, healing rapidly. Too rapidly.
I couldn't hesitate.
Cooldown reset.
[Power Slash] [-15 MP]
This time, I aimed for the head.
My blade pierced through his skull.
The mutated Hobgoblin jerked… then slumped, motionless.
Silence.
Then—twitch.
His head turned toward me, eyes hollow but glowing.
A voice echoed, deep and ancient.
"Human... congratulations on defeating my failed vessel."
I froze.
"What…?"
"You blocked my soul-rending spell. You wield secrets far beyond this world. Become my contractor. Serve me, and I shall grant you the power you desire."
I narrowed my eyes. "Let me guess. Like the 'power' you gave him?"
"That was a mere scrap. You deserve true strength. I offer you Demonic Sovereign Essence. Tell me your secret, and it's yours."
I smirked. "Wow, a demon actually trying to sweet-talk. You're desperate, aren't you?"
"I am patient no longer. Accept or perish. Speak now!"
I pretended to think, then chuckled. "Nah. I don't make pacts with Tier 2 trash."
The voice screamed in fury.
"You insolent—! I will find you. I will break you. Your soul is marked—!"
[Shadow Bolt] [-21 MP]
I fired at the connection point. The spectral link shattered.
His voice cut off mid-threat.
Silence.
I stood alone, bloodied and shaking.
The system chimed.
[You have slain the Mutated Hobgoblin Warlord (Lv.19).]
[You have completed the dungeon.]
[Please wait for the portal to manifest.]
My knees gave out. I collapsed.
But I was alive.
I survived hell.
And I had just declared war on a demon.
--To be continued--