Legend Xanatos
"Bah!" I cast aside the corpse. Another useless lead, another dead end. I focused and waved my hand. The Dark Library was being difficult. It would suffer. It had retreated into the dungeon, and I didn't have Blood Gore on call for some help quickly moving through the layers.
I was skilled, but my skills had a certain flavor that wasn't meant for hordes of monsters. I had come across a legendary adventurer here on the 22nd layer. Now they were dead while I debated my next move.
"You are afraid; I can taste the fear. Hiding away," I whispered in the darkness. It was right to be afraid of me, especially since I had wasted years trying to track it down.
I had been gone for too long. Yonder and his band of idiots probably thought I was hiding.
I couldn't help thinking of Elena.
That bitch had set me back this much. It was all her fault.
She was gone, and there was no word of her return. Perhaps it was time to visit her son once again. The experience was disappointing. He could use some encouragement. If he didn't work hard, then he would suffer as well. Of all the possibilities, I had seemed to have stumbled into the future with the worst outcome.
Divination was useful and useless, leading me down a path of destruction and reversal. It was time to go in a completely different direction.
Time to collect some old debts.
I would let someone else find the Dark Library and then peel them like an orange. Messy, sticky, and something enjoyable after the work was done.
Supreme Warlady Elena Burnstock
I gasped for air, each breath a struggle. The burnt flesh struggled to keep me going after the immense damage I had suffered over the years. It had been a long game of cat and mouse with the demon, and the sense of being the prey never faltered.
There was no shame in admitting weakness. Unfortunately, nothing I could unleash hurt the monster lastingly. Everything had been countered, and the fight had occurred in fits and bursts over the years, with another battle happening at least every couple of days.
I refused to retreat. Blood Gore, the coward or genius, had run off. I had not seen him since the first fight, when I had saved him. I had sensed him only once after that, but no more. Whether he lived or died, I had no room in my heart to care.
It struggled to beat and keep me alive. It wasn't just my body. My soul and mind were on the brink of collapse as well. But I refused to die to a monster. It might kill me, but only after it had been wiped out.
The cursed flames it had unleashed had burned everything. My soul was cracking; my skills had decayed slightly. My thoughts were a blur. I kept my hiding skill activated as it continued to burn large portions of the dungeon to flush me out into a fight again.
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It knew I was somewhere nearby. I couldn't get enough distance to properly recover. As much as I cursed Blood Gore, escaping had been smart. This was a monster that was beyond me. I clutched Sarah in my hand, thinking of family. My son would graduate soon if he hadn't already graduated.
My once imposing appearance was gone. Nothing but burnt and ruined flesh was left behind. People would think of me as a monster now. The flames were getting closer. I would have to fight once again, and for the first time in my life, I didn't want to fight.
Well, not for the first time.
It had been years since I was a young girl, cowering in fear as her family was massacred.
I used my free hand to reach into my spatial pouch and reached for a potion and found nothing.
I had used them all, but I had forgotten that fact.
Switching to a different item, I grabbed a strip of salted meat, removing it and shoving it down my throat to fuel my body in one swift movement. My body convulsed as it tried to cough up blood and burnt flesh, but I refused to verbalize it. Any sound would cause my hiding skill to be disrupted.
Blood filled my mouth as my body tried to rebel against me. It oozed out of my mouth and nose.
Well, it was time to get ready for another round.
This time I would use a flurry of attacks and then retreat. Perhaps I could draw other monsters into the battle to create confusion.
It hadn't worked in the past, but I might get lucky with a monster type on this layer of the dungeon. My right hand had been welded onto my blade. I hadn't dropped it for years. Things were bad, but I would never give up. Never submit.
No matter the pain, the suffering, or hardships I had to endure, I would kill all the monsters and the dungeon one day.
A dream could not be killed, and I was that dream.
A dream of a better world, a kinder world…
A world where a little girl didn't witness her family getting ripped apart…
I burst forward as the demon moved slightly out of position in relation to me. It was large, but insanely fast. There were scars all over its body, where I had carved into its flesh in the past. The broken horn was where I had risked a decapitation attack but was countered. Foolishness on my part, and an exposed opening to draw me in close. The counterattack had almost killed me.
It was ready, and I was prepared for its counterattack. Just as I learned from the demon, it learned from me. I had no tutors but the dungeon and the monsters in this hell. I didn't even think about my skills anymore. It was all instinct honed from a lifetime of fighting with my life on the line.
It unleashed cursed flames. My eyes had long since melted out of my skull, taking my vision skills with them. I sensed the Mana and the air currents through my burnt skin.
Sarah came up, deflecting the worst of the attack, but I was hit with residual cursed Mana. It was just another drop onto the cursed Mana already covering my body. The demon roared, something I didn't care to listen to.
I landed on its right shoulder and left another deep cut, injecting Mana to damage the monster. A burst of ice exploded outwards from the wound.
A torrent of lightning shot out from the demon, its left hand. Its right arm was injured, and it preferred to use its left for lightning. I was ready for this attack. I spun Sarah and cut away the Mana in the air.
Spells had a depth to them. Their targeting and flow were subtle things, but ones I understood over the years. It was how I learned from the dungeon and the monsters. The red lightning flooded into the null area that was created before the ambient Mana could refill it.
The cursed lightning bent around me. It was enough to protect me from the worst of the attack. It affected the ceiling of this layer, and a massive explosion burst outwards.
The demon was rapidly closing in and unleashed more cursed flames. I swung my sword, redirecting my body into the explosion. While the worst of it was dying down, it would provide cover.
I would normally hide, and the demon was used to this. It was ready and unleashed torrents of cursed flame. It was a minor mistake I had created by training the monster over the years. Everything could be weaponized to kill monsters, including Empowered Tutor.
While social skills weren't my favorite, I refused to lose.
I created more distance between the demon and me. If I couldn't escape now, then I would have to fight to the death. My will was unbreakable, my dream forged from the hardest beliefs, but my body was unwilling.
My skills had suffered only minor damage, my stats were intact, and my class kept everything together. I would recover from my injuries and prepare to kill this demon. Others could die or retreat, but I would never accept such outcomes.
The demon roared again. It wasn't pursuing me just yet. My Tier 5 hiding skill had evolved into Tier 6. I could move and hide at the same time. It had limitations, hard limitations, but it was enough to retreat.
My face couldn't even smile. The burnt flesh could barely move.
But a touch of happiness and pride bloomed inside me.
It would take time to recover and to win, but I was inevitable. I didn't fear monsters; monsters feared me. Let the demon worry about when I would return and cut it down.
This battle would only strengthen me. While it was regrettable that The Mathemancer and The Librarian had died long ago, their sacrifices would be avenged. That was the greatest honor I could give them by killing the monster that had cut them down.
As for Blood Gore, who knew what he was up to? The man was one-dimensional. He couldn't adapt like I could. He fought hoping to outlast his opponent.
Against the demon, he wouldn't win even if he trained for millennia. He had been useful, a pig, but a pig was useful. Now he was just trash or dead. Teams were pointless; only one's own strength mattered in such a fight where life and death were on the line.