## Chapter 18: The Cost of Chains
The crude stone knife felt alien and heavy in Kelvin's grip, slick with dark goblin blood. Five sets of beady, hate-filled eyes locked onto him. Two scarred brutes untangling themselves, fury replacing confusion. Two limping scouts, their earlier fall fueling their rage. Three more near the vent, hissing, emboldened by the pack's numbers despite their fallen kin. Behind him, Elara gasped, frozen in terror. Around the hall, students watched, a terrified audience to a nightmare unfolding.
**<< MP: 14/180 >>** The number pulsed like a dying ember. Manifesting even one chain for a second might drain him to collapse. He had teeth, fists, a stolen knife, and the cold, calculating fury of the **Forsaken Architect**.
The largest brute, the one he'd entangled, roared, shaking off its companion. It hefted its chunk of concrete, eyes fixed on Kelvin. The pipe-wielder scrambled up beside it. They charged together, a wall of green muscle and crude weaponry.
Kelvin didn't wait. He met the charge, but not head-on. **Combat Acumen** screamed *diversion*. He feinted towards the pipe-wielder, causing it to swing wildly. At the last second, he ducked and pivoted, putting the charging brute between himself and the pipe. He slammed his shoulder into the brute's flank, not to hurt, but to *unbalance*.
The brute stumbled, its concrete swing going wide, crashing harmlessly into a row of overturned chairs. Kelvin was already moving past it, towards the two limping scouts who were trying to flank him and get to the cowering students near the wall.
One lunged with its jagged metal shard. Kelvin sidestepped with unnatural speed (**AGI 15 + Chain Mastery Reflex Boost**), the shard whistling past his ribs. He didn't use the knife. He grabbed the goblin's extended arm, yanked it forward using its own momentum, and drove his knee upwards into its gut. The air whooshed out of it. Before it could recover, he brought the pommel of the stone knife down hard on the base of its skull. **<< TARGET ELIMINATED >> +70 EXP**. He shoved the collapsing body towards its limping partner, forcing the second scout to stumble back.
A whistle of air warned him. He dropped into a roll. The pipe slammed down where he'd been standing, cracking the linoleum. The pipe-wielder was back, enraged. Kelvin came up from the roll facing it, the stone knife held low. The goblin swung again, a wild horizontal arc. Kelvin ducked under it, closing the distance inside its guard. He drove the stone knife upwards, under the goblin's ribcage, twisting savagely. Dark blood gushed over his hand. **<< TARGET ELIMINATED >> +90 EXP**. He kicked the body off the blade.
A guttural roar. The large brute he'd unbalanced was back, swinging the concrete chunk in a terrifying overhead blow. Kelvin tried to dodge, but the fatigue from the chains, the sprint, the desperate fight, was catching up. He moved a fraction too slow. The edge of the concrete slammed into his left shoulder.
*CRACK.*
Agony exploded. White-hot pain lanced down his arm. His vision blurred. He heard Elara scream his name. He stumbled back, his left arm hanging uselessly, the stone knife dropping from suddenly numb fingers. **<< HP: 110/140 >>** The **System** notification was cold comfort against the grinding pain.
The brute grinned, a horrifying display of yellowed fangs, sensing victory. It raised the concrete chunk again for the finishing blow. The three cautious goblins near the vent screeched and charged, seeing the leader cripple the threat. The remaining limping scout joined them, hobbling but eager.
Kelvin saw death approaching from four directions. He saw Elara's terrified face. He saw the students shrinking back, helpless. The **Bloodlust**, held barely in check by his will and low MP, surged in response to the pain, the threat, the proximity of his sister's peril. It screamed for release. It promised power – the power to rend, to tear, to bathe the hall in green blood.
*NO!* The cold core of the **Architect** slammed down. Unleashing the chains now, with no MP control, meant rampage. It meant Elara might get caught in the storm. He couldn't risk it. Not her.
He had one weapon left: desperation, and the environment.
As the brute brought the concrete down, Kelvin threw himself *towards* it, not away. He dropped below the swing, ignoring the agony in his shoulder, and slammed his good shoulder into the brute's knee. **STR 8** wasn't much, but leverage and surprise were multipliers. The brute, already committed to its downward swing, staggered, off-balance. Its swing went wide, crashing into the floor beside Kelvin.
Kelvin rolled away, coming up near the body of the first goblin he'd killed with the chain. Its crude stone knife lay beside it. He snatched it up with his right hand. The three charging goblins were almost on him, the limping scout just behind.
He couldn't fight them all. Not head-on. Not injured.
He kicked a nearby overturned chair hard, sending it skittering into the legs of the two lead chargers. They tripped, snarling, crashing into each other. The third charger leapt over the tumbling mass, claws outstretched, aiming for his face.
Time slowed. **Combat Acumen** calculated trajectories, weaknesses. **Perception 13** pinpointed the moment. Kelvin dropped to one knee, bracing. As the goblin descended, he thrust the stone knife upwards, not at its body, but into its open, shrieking mouth. The blade punched through the soft palate and into the brain. **<< TARGET ELIMINATED >> +80 EXP**. The creature went instantly limp, collapsing on top of him, its weight driving the knife deeper.
He shoved the corpse off, gasping, covered in foul blood. The two goblins who'd tripped were untangling themselves. The limping scout was almost upon him, raising its weapon. The large brute was recovering, bellowing in fury.
*Too many. Too fast.*
Suddenly, a heavy textbook slammed into the limping scout's head from the side. It stumbled, dazed. Kelvin glanced up. A terrified but determined-looking student – the one whose backpack Elara had tripped over – stood nearby, already reaching for another book. Others, emboldened, started grabbing chairs, fire extinguishers, anything they could use as improvised weapons.
The momentary distraction was all Kelvin needed. He surged forward, ignoring the screaming pain in his shoulder, and drove his knife into the throat of the dazed limping scout. **<< TARGET ELIMINATED >> +60 EXP**. He whirled to face the two untangling goblins. One was scrambling up. Kelvin stomped hard on its hand, hearing bones crunch. It shrieked, dropping its weapon. He finished it with a swift stab to the heart. **<< TARGET ELIMINATED >> +70 EXP**.
The last goblin, seeing its pack decimated, turned to flee back towards the vent. Kelvin didn't let it. He threw the blood-slicked stone knife. It wasn't elegant, but **AGI 15** and desperation guided it true. The blade buried itself in the goblin's back between its shoulder blades. It stumbled, fell, and didn't move. **<< TARGET ELIMINATED >> +70 EXP**.
Silence. Thick, heavy, punctuated only by ragged breathing and muffled sobs.
Kelvin stood amidst the carnage, chest heaving, left arm hanging limp and throbbing, covered in grime, sweat, and dark goblin blood. Eight corpses littered the floor near the stage. The air reeked of ozone, blood, and fear. He slowly turned.
Elara stared at him, her face pale as parchment. The joy of his arrival was long gone, replaced by a profound horror etched into every line of her face. She wasn't looking at her brother. She was looking at a stranger covered in gore, who moved with lethal, unnatural grace, who killed with brutal efficiency. The sadness in her eyes was deeper than the dungeon fog.
The students who had helped stared too, their expressions a mix of awe, terror, and revulsion. The one who threw the textbook slowly lowered the chair leg he'd picked up.
A new sound cut through the silence – not a shriek, but the distinct *thrum* of high-powered energy weapons and the sharp bark of professional commands from the hallway. Hunter containment teams. They'd finally breached the building's defenses.
They were safe.
But as Kelvin met his sister's devastated eyes, the cost of that safety slammed into him harder than the concrete chunk. The facade wasn't just shattered; it was obliterated, buried under the blood of D-rank goblins and the terrifying reality of the **Blood War Chains**. The Forsaken Architect had saved them. But Kelvin Vance, the brother Elara knew, might have been lost in the process. The **System's** EXP notifications flickered in his vision, a cold counterpoint to the crushing weight of Elara's silent, shattered gaze. The battle was won, but the true cost was just beginning to be counted.