"Why am I even thinking about killing?"
Hope's brows furrowed slightly as he sprinted forward, separating himself from the eager masses of students rushing into battle.
His mind replayed his earlier thoughts—betrayal, backstabbing, survival at all costs.
This was just a competition, wasn't it?
Then why was he so sure that some students would resort to underhanded tactics?
Maybe it was because he knew what desperation did to people.
Or maybe it was because he had lived in a world where trust was a luxury, not a necessity.
Either way—
He wasn't taking any chances.
Hope adjusted his grip on the twin sickle-daggers, the familiar cold metal pressing against his palms as he moved deeper into the ruins.
The others had already begun their hunt, the echoes of distant clashes filling the air—metal striking flesh, shouts of exertion, the guttural roars of Veil creatures reacting to the intrusion.
But Hope?
He avoided the noise.
Let the others fight over easy kills.
If he was going to hunt, he'd do it on his own terms.
Hope's path led him toward the gaping maw of a cavern, its entrance a jagged wound in the earth.
It was dark inside, the natural light of the overcast sky barely reaching beyond the threshold.
A cave was a risk—it limited mobility, forced him into enclosed spaces, and left little room for retreat.
But it also meant less competition.
And potentially stronger creatures lurking in its depths.
His heart pounded steadily in his chest as he slipped into the shadows, keeping his steps light and his breathing controlled.
The air inside was thick, damp, and tainted with an unnatural scent—a mix of rotting flesh and something far worse, something that sent a primal warning through his instincts.
Then—
He saw it.
A monstrosity hunched in the cavern's depths.
Its chitinous body glistened with a sickly sheen, thick plates of mutated armor covering its form.
At first glance, it resembled a crab, but its features were far too twisted and unnatural.
Its legs, nearly humanoid in structure, were grotesquely bent at odd angles, joints bulging with unnatural growths.
Its pincers were massive—easily capable of crushing steel, their serrated edges dripping with a viscous, blackened fluid that sizzled against the cave floor.
Hope's fingers tightened around his daggers.
The creature hadn't noticed him yet.
Which meant—
He had the element of surprise.
The Attack
Steeling himself, Hope lunged forward, his body a blur of movement.
His grip shifted, daggers weaving between his fingers with practiced ease as he slashed at the creature's exposed side.
The first strike was perfect.
Aimed at the gap between its armor plating, where the flesh was most vulnerable.
But—
The fiend moved.
What?!
It reacted as if it had been expecting the attack, twisting its grotesque body just enough to avoid a fatal strike.
Hope's momentum carried him forward, bringing him dangerously close to the creature's range of attack.
"Damnation!"
He tried to pivot—to retreat before the counterattack came—
But—
The fiend was fast.
Faster than it had any right to be.
Its pincer shot forward, blurring through the air like a guillotine aimed straight for his torso.
Hope barely had time to react.
His instincts screamed, and he raised his daggers in a desperate block—
Clang!
The impact sent shockwaves up his arms, his entire body trembling under the force of the strike.
Sparks flew as metal clashed against the fiend's chitinous limb, the sheer strength behind it nearly knocking him off balance.
The fiend let out a low, guttural hiss, its beady, malignant eyes locking onto him with an eerie intelligence.
This thing wasn't just strong.
It was smart.
And now—
It knew he was here.