—Shing!
A thin line of blood traced down Asher's cheek as he narrowly dodged another strike.
"Shit..."
His voice came out raw, ragged—unsurprising after a day filled with screaming.
Another blade whistled past, slicing the air as Asher staggered back.
He was barely holding on.
He couldn't do anything to this merchant!
He didn't know how to wield a sword! All he could do was dodge!
This fight wasn't fair!!
The merchant was relentless. Precise. And worst of all—dead.
The body it used might have been that of a Dormant, but its soul core pulsed like an Awakened. The damn thing didn't even flinch when hurt. Pain meant nothing to the dead.
Asher weaved to the side, narrowly avoiding another swipe. His movements were quick—too quick for someone who was supposed to be a slave. He didn't question it anymore. His body was moving because it could, because it remembered how, even if his mind didn't.
Then—An opening.
Asher's eyes narrowed. He lunged in and swung at the merchant's wrist with everything he had.
CRACK!
The sound was sickening. The bones shattered beneath his blade. Asher allowed himself a grin—
But it died just as fast.
A sudden, searing pain tore through his abdomen.
"Kuck—!"He spat blood, stumbling backward as heat radiated from his wound.
The merchant had punched him. Not with a blade—just raw, brute force from its shattered hand.
And still… it didn't even blink.
Asher clutched his side, trembling. His body screamed in protest. "It… hurts…"
He coughed, swaying slightly. Across from him, the merchant stood motionless—panting.
'I guess its muscles still needs oxygen'
His hands throbbed. His legs burned. His lungs strained. Every inch of him was breaking down.
He couldn't last much longer.
Still, Asher raised his blade. "Come."
The merchant responded, stepping forward with eerie calm. It raised its sword in its remaining hand, lifting it high—aiming straight for Asher's shoulder.
It was going to cleave him clean in two.
But Asher didn't back down.
He mirrored the motion, blade arcing upward—his target, the merchant's neck.
Their weapons closed the distance in a heartbeat.
And then—
—DUN.
A subtle, almost imperceptible pressure descended.
Just enough.
The merchant's blade dipped too early, missing by a hair's breadth—But Asher's strike did not.
—TWAK!
A vicious crack echoed as the blade smashed into the merchant's neck, twisting it at an unnatural angle.
But it wasn't enough.
Asher snarled, drew his sword back, and slammed it down—straight through the top of the merchant's skull.
Crunch.
The head caved in, pulpy and broken beneath the dull edge of his blade. The enchantment didn't let it cleave, but it crushed. And right now—crushing was more than enough.
Asher stumbled back, chest heaving, blood trailing from his lips.
He looked down at the mangled corpse—and nearly gagged.
"Disgusting..."
He doubled over, retching violently.
Of course, killing the already dead won't give him anything, hence why the spell didn't say anything.
Asher collapsed onto the ground, his chest heaving as if it were trying to break free from his ribs. Dust clung to his sweat-slick skin. Blood—his own and others'—soaked into his torn clothes.
Above him, the sky burned orange with smoke and heat. Distant shouts rang out—cries of pain, steel clashing, something collapsing. The sounds blurred together like a cruel lullaby.
He shut his eyes, letting out a long, weary breath."Just let me wake up already…" he groaned.
But reality didn't offer mercy.
No. He couldn't stop here.There was still one thing left.
"...I need to kill it."
The Skinwalker. It was still alive. And he wanted the memory it would drop. He deserved that much, after everything. After the pain, the blood, the horror.
He forced himself upright with a grunt, swaying slightly.He didn't dare look at the merchant's mangled corpse—his stomach couldn't take it.
Somewhere ahead—
—BOOM!
A deafening blast rocked the air. Asher flinched, then squinted through the rising dust.
There it was.
The Skinwalker. Weak and vulnerable.
This was his chance.
He staggered over to the fallen merchant's blade. It was heavier than his own, but solid. Still sharp. Without hesitation, he tore more cloth from his already shredded shirt, wrapping it around the hilt and his bleeding hand—binding them together.
He winced as the fabric dug into raw skin, pain lighting up every nerve in his arm.
But this body…
This body could take it.
**
The Skinwalker let out an ear-shattering shriek as Eurys parried a whipping tentacle sinew.
"It lost a core," he muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing.
Without missing a beat, he reached into his robe, retrieving two glass-like orbs. He channeled soul essence into them, the cores glowing faintly blue.
With a sharp breath, he sprinted forward.
"Explode!" he invoked the name, hurling the bombs.
—BOOM!
A violent shockwave surged outward. The Skinwalker reeled back, bellowing in pain as its grotesque mass twisted violently.
"Thruks! Now!" Eurys shouted.
From behind the creature, a towering figure appeared—an awakened warrior gripping a massive battle axe.
"RAAAH!" Thruks roared as he cleaved deep into the beast's side.
But the Skinwalker didn't scream this time. Instead, a sickening sound came from Thruks himself.A bloated, veiny arm shot out, coiling around him.
His face drained of color.
Before he could even scream, a razor-sharp tentacle slashed across his neck. Blood sprayed into the air as his body crumpled.
Eurys' jaw clenched. "Your sacrifice was necessary..." he muttered coldly.
From the haze of smoke, he leapt forward, slashing through the giant arm that had claimed his comrade. Blood exploded across the ground, but he didn't stop. He slid behind cover, panting hard, eyes locked on the defiled monstrosity.
Then—he noticed something. Parts of the creature were beginning to wither and cave in.
"It lost another core."
A voice croaked behind him.
"Eh... Eurys."
Eurys turned. Asher stood barely upright, his body a mess—shoulder slashed, thigh bleeding freely, face pale and drawn.
"How the hell are you still moving?" Eurys asked, incredulous.
Asher gave a breathless chuckle, blood flecking his lips. "No clue. But I'm not lasting much longer."
Beaks stepped up behind him, equally battered but still able to stand.
Eurys pushed off the wall, standing tall once more. His gaze returned to the shrinking beast in the distance. "There's only three of us left..." he said grimly. But it's weak. It's bleeding. This is our shot."
He looked between the two men. "One last attack. Let's end it."
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[A/n: Extra chapter if we reach 100 collection by the end of the week!]