Killyaen crouched in the narrow tunnel of the Zenoite mine, his torch long gone, the air thick with the stench of Stinking Blind Moozzes and something far worse.
The Zenoite Krovar, a Peak Warrior beast, loomed outside the crevice, its six legs clawing sparks from the stone, its maw of jagged teeth dripping sizzling ichor.
Its Zenoite-crusted hide glinted like a shattered mirror, and four gem-like eyes burned with qi that made Killy's skin prickle. The beast's roar shook the mine, a Peak Warrior's power dwarfing Killy's unawakened qi and curse-laden frame. His twin swords—Marko's feather-light blades—were nicked from earlier strikes, his shoulder bled from a tail graze, and his tunic hung in tatters. Sweat plastered his gold-tipped braid to his neck, but his grin was pure, unhinged defiance.
"Alright, sparkles," Killy panted, eyeing the loose Zenoite boulder above the tunnel's mouth, "you're tougher than Janko's ego, but I'm the Supreme Elf. Let's get weird."
The Krovar lunged, its claws scraping the crevice's edge, forcing Killy to scramble deeper, the curse's thirty-kilogram weight making his knees groan. His mind raced—straight-up fighting was suicide. The Krovar's qi could crush him, and his Wind's Rebuke and Thunder's Edge barely scratched its scales.
He needed a plan as bizarre as painting "SUPREME ELF RULES" on a barn.The mine's floor was slick with moozze guts and ichor, and Killy's eyes caught a glint—a pile of discarded Gromble oil jars, left by miners for greasing carts.
Nearby, a cluster of glowing Zenoite shards pulsed faintly, their qi humming like a drunk bard's tune. An idea sparked, so absurd it could only be his.
"Oh, Azurion's scaly backside, this is gonna be legendary," he muttered, dodging another claw swipe that cracked the tunnel wall.Killy sheathed one sword, grabbed a jagged rock, and hurled it at the Krovar's eyes. It bounced off, but the beast snarled, distracted just long enough for Killy to dart out, sliding on moozze slime like a Zeltar in a festival race. He snatched a Gromble oil jar, its contents reeking worse than Janko's Cursed Cat pride, and lobbed it at the Krovar's maw.
The jar shattered, oil splattering the beast's teeth and eyes. The Krovar roared, shaking its head, momentarily blinded, but charged, its qi flaring in a silvery shockwave.
Killy dove, the blast singeing his braid and leaving a burn across his ribs. He hissed, the curse's healing stitching the wound slowly, but blood soaked his side."Nice try, sparkles!" Killy taunted, grabbing another jar. His plan was forming—slippery, stupid, and perfect. He sprinted, the curse dragging his steps, and hurled more Gromble oil, coating the Krovar's legs and the floor. The beast slipped, its massive bulk skidding, claws scrabbling for grip.
Killy laughed, wild and breathless, ignoring the throbbing in his shoulder and the fresh gash on his thigh from a near-miss claw. "What's wrong, big guy? Too much oil for a Peak Warrior?"
The Krovar regained its footing, its qi pulsing hotter, and lunged. Killy rolled, barely avoiding a bite that crushed a stalagmite. He needed the boulder, but the beast was too fast. Then he saw it—a vein of Zenoite above the Krovar, cracked from its roars, and the glowing shards nearby. His grin widened, as mad as a Flaevyn feather in a storm.
"Time for the Supreme Elf's grand finale!"Killy grabbed a Zenoite shard, its qi buzzing in his hand, and chucked it at the cracked vein, hoping the mine's own energy Dr would do the trick. Nothing. The Krovar charged, its tail whipping. Killy dodged, the spike grazing his arm, blood spraying.
"Come on, you shiny rocks!" he yelled, hurling another shard.
This one hit true, sparking a qi burst that shook the vein. The boulder above the tunnel wobbled. Killy's heart leapt, but the Krovar was on him, its maw wide. He slid under it, oil-slicked, and slashed Thunder's Edge at its underbelly, cracking a scale.
The beast howled, giving Killy a heart time to act.
He scrambled to the tunnel, grabbed a third Gromble oil jar, and, with a cackle, dumped it over himself. "If I'm going down, I'm going greasy!" he shouted, sliding toward the boulder's base.
The Krovar chased, slipping on the oiled floor, its qi flaring wildly. Killy climbed, the curse making each step agony, and wedged his remaining sword into the cracked vein, twisting with all his curse-fueled strength. The boulder broke free, tumbling with a thunderous crash, but the Krovar was too close.
In a final, ridiculous act, Killy leapt onto the beast's back, oil-slicked and screaming, "Ride the Cursed Cat's cousin, sparkles!"
The boulder hit, pinning the Krovar's rear legs, its roars turning to shrieks. Killy, clinging to its scales, slipped off, landing in a heap of oil, blood, and sweat.
The beast thrashed, but the boulder held, its qi flickering as moozzes swarmed back, drawn to the ichor. Killy, bruised, bleeding, and smelling like a Gromble slaughterhouse, crawled away, grabbing his dropped sword. He stood, swaying, and raised both blades. "Supreme Elf, one! Peak Warrior rock-lizard, zero!" he croaked, then collapsed against the wall, laughing through the pain.
The Krovar's struggles slowed, its qi fading under the boulder's weight and the moozzes' bites. Killy's injuries—gashed thigh, burned ribs, bleeding arm—throbbed, but the curse's healing was already at work. .
He wiped sweat from his brow, oil smearing his face like war paint. "Bera's gonna kill me for this stink," he muttered, limping toward the mine's exit. The Zenoite shards still glowed, one catching his eye—a faint blue pulse, like Azurion's Scale from Vuk's tales. He pocketed it, grinning. "First Altar, here I come."