The ebony shadow stared down at Faust and his goblins. A killer aura was almost visible around its body. It leapt from the monolith.
Gravel burst into the air.
Faust stood there, he had six javelins on his waist and four goblins in front of him.
Then—
The creature rushed at Faust.
He quickly ordered, "Scatter!"
Three of his goblins ran off, while the heavily injured one stood in front of him.
A slash came their way. Faust threw himself to the ground with his goblin, rolling and springing back to his feet.
A black arm aimed a spear thrust at Faust's head.
He jumped back, barely dodging it. Faust's eyes gleamed. He grinned.
The foe was exposed. Faust ordered his injured goblin to stab it with the bone sword. The goblin lunged, but missed—and was immediately met by a counterattack. The fiend's blade pierced its abdomen. It lifted the sword, and Faust's goblin slid up the blade, bleeding profusely.
Faust grinned and stepped back.
"Stab."
The goblin stabbed into the creature's forearm.
"Detonate."
Six runes on the bone blade flared to life—fully powered.
In an instant, the creature's forearm was mangled. Its hand was blown away, and a thick, dark liquid began to spill from the wound.
Its sword flew through the air before landing in the gravel. Faust's goblin was torn apart, its body raining down on the graveyard.
The black creature lunged at Faust. While closing in, it spun it body and threw its spear. They were too close—Faust leapt aside, but the spear drove clean through his left shoulder, embedding itself in the moss-covered wall behind him. Blood gushed out.
His eyes stayed fixed on the creature. His expression twisted in pain, it was immense.
He grabbed a javelin and hurled it. The foe dodged with a roll and dashed toward its fallen sword.
Faust couldn't allow that. He had already sacrificed the injured goblin in a suicidal attack. But the remaining three were scattered across the battlefield.
He commanded two to engage the ebony shadow, while the third returned to him, he would use it as a meatshield if necessary.
The two goblins closed in.
"Slash!"
They struck at once. The creature ducked, then kicked one goblin away—its body flew back, crashing into the gravel. The other landed a shallow cut on its leg. The creature immediately distanced itself from the bone blade, wary of another explosion.
"I have the advantage for now. The surprise attack worked, and I took one of its hands… but damn it! It's still too strong and fast!" Faust's thoughts raced in a single breath.
He charged with his goblins. If the creature reclaimed its sword, it would be an even bigger threat.
Faust threw two more javelins. One was dodged; the other pierced the creature's calf.
"Detonate!" Faust commanded, his expression solemn, blood and sweat mixing as he staggered.
The runes began to glow. The creature ripped the javelin out and hurled it back at him.
The detonation would take two breaths of time—but the creature reacted in one.
The javelin flew at Faust, cutting through the air, much faster and harder than he could throw it. It was too close to dodge.
He pulled the goblin at his side to stop the javelin.
The goblin stood still and took the hit. The javelin pierced its chest, shattering from the force.
Then it exploded.
The blast was weaker than the bone sword's explosion—only half-powered runes—but Faust was too close. The force launched him back.
The goblin bled out instantly, a pool forming beneath it. It collapsed, lifeless.
"Only two goblins remain." Faust clenched his teeth. His losses were stacking. Bone fragments and gravel tore through his chest. He vomited blood—the explosion had done real damage. But mentally, the strain was now halved. His thoughts moved faster.
"Retreat," he ordered. The two surviving goblins returned to him.
The dark monster stared at him. Though expressionless, pure hatred burned in its eyes.
It charged. Faust's gaze scanned the battlefield. He had three javelins left with him—the other two were scattered across the graveyard, the third destroyed. One goblin had been exploded, the other lay dead in a pool of blood.
The creature closed in. Faust had his goblins attack—stabbing and slashing. The strikes were sloppy; they were easily dodged by the monster. But it gave Faust precious seconds. He grabbed another javelin and hurled it.
It was sliced in mid-air—but the explosion still triggered. It staggered back a few steps.
His goblins employed hit-and-run tactics—both still alive. Faust seized the moment, ordering one to stab. Just before the blade could land, the fiend retreated—the stab missed. It was aware of Faust's tactics.
Faust's body turned paler; he had lost too much blood. He couldn't retreat, now that he was hurt, his speed wouldn't make that possible.
As hesitation crept in, a voice echoed in his mind.
"Persevere. You can win." Red's voice snapped him back to reality.
Faust shook his head, trying to regain composure.
One of his goblins was slashed. Faust ordered it to meet the attack head-on and hold the blade. Taking the chance that the sword was too rusty to slice cleanly through.
He was right—the goblin caught the blade midway through its body. Faust had the other goblin stab the creature in the leg and retreat. One of its arms was busy holding the sword; the other, unusable. The goblin that had been slashed, still had his weapon with runes. The creature had to choose—lose its other arm and a weapon, or its leg.
"Detonate!"
The creature kicked the goblin off its blade, severed the bone sword in half, and retreated. A chain of explosions followed in both bone blades. Its leg wasn't blown off—the damage was minimized, its arm and weapon were also preserved. Faust's goblin, on the other hand, had been blown away and cut, it lay dead.
Only one goblin remained. It quickly picked up a javelin close by.
Two against one
The attacker rushed at Faust. It was clearly slower—at least half its former speed. The damage had taken its toll. Still, its durability was absurd. A full-powered explosion could obliterate goblins at close range—yet it had merely lost a limb to it.
Faust ordered his goblin to rush from the side, while he attacked from behind.
The black monster tried to strike the goblin, but Faust commanded it to dodge. No hit landed.
Faust got behind it and quickly grabbed one of his javelins, attempting a stab in the back. The ebony creature turned almost instantly and slashed at him. Faust tried to defend with the javelin, but it was cut in half. He threw both parts at the creature, and the runes, triggered by damage, detonated. Faust was thrown backward. His chest had been sliced; the javelin couldn't hold the sword slash, blood poured out from his injury, and he struggled to stand.
The explosion had done minimal damage to the creature—but it gave Faust an opening.
Faust's goblin stabbed the monster in the leg and quickly retreated. The creature turned to strike it, but then another attack came from behind. It landed, but not where Faust had aimed. He intended to strike the creature's good arm but instead hit the already injured one with the javelin.
The thing pulled the bone javelin embedded in its leg and quickly threw it away. It didn't have time to remove the other one.
"Detonate," Faust willed, his red eyes already fading.
Both javelins began to glow, then exploded in a series of blasts.
Smoke rose. A burnt rotten meat odor assaulting the air.
Faust stood up with great difficulty.
From the smoke, the ebony monster charged at him.
Its body was partially mangled. Its leg was hung by threads of flesh. Its hand had been blown away earlier.
Faust positioned his goblin in front of him. He could barely move.
The goblin leapt at the creature, knocking it to the ground. It too was extremely weak. It slashed the goblin, leaving a cut on its belly.
The goblin retreated and helped Faust move.
The creature stood once more and rushed forward, not caring for the damage it had taken.
Faust inhaled deeply. His chest burned; his mouth tasted of iron.
He removed the armor from his arms and handed it to his goblin, then ordered it to fight. Faust collapsed beside his previously fallen goblin. He could no longer stand. He could barely see the fight.
The creature slashed at the goblin, but Faust commanded it to run in circles, dodging most blows, only taking minor grazes. The monster changed targets and lunged at Faust, realizing he was the one giving commands.
It reached him and kicked. His goblin stayed far from them, almost like it didn't even try to help. Faust was sent flying, crashing onto the gravel.
"Now. Detonate." Red's voice echoed in his mind.
Faust, barely conscious, willed once more. "Detonate."
The armor of the dead goblin began to strongly glow from within. Faust had engraved full-powered runes on it too. The creature was too close, too slow to dodge now. It tried to, but his goblin pushed it back. The explosion went off.
The monster's feet were blown off. It collapsed but still lived, crawling toward Faust, ignoring the goblin entirely.
The goblin rushed over and threw both arm guards at the creature.
"Deto…" Faust's consciousness began to fade.
"Wake up. Not yet." Red's voice echoed once more.
"nate…" Faust finished.
Both arm guards exploded. The creature dropped its sword on the way—but it was still alive, still crawling toward him.
"Get up. Now." Red's voice demanded.
Faust gritted his teeth. The pain was immense. The blood loss was immense. The exhaustion was immense.
In his mind, images flickered: a man and a woman, talking and laughing with him as they ate; walking together through the village; tucking him into bed; watching him take his first steps.
"No…I can't lose now…"
His wounds bled even more as he stood, aided by his goblin. His entire body was burning in pain.
He approached the crawling creature. It could barely move. Faust stayed out of reach, looked it in the eyes, then raised his final javelin and drove it into its head. The resistance was strong, but Faust forced the javelin through. The creature went still.
With help from his goblin, Faust made his way to the monolith.
When he was far enough, he willed:
"Detonate."
A massive explosion erupted. It was louder and stronger than any before. The final javelin had the most runes. Faust had saved it for this moment. The creature's head was completely obliterated. He wouldn't risk leaving it behind with its body whole.
Faust bare feet made their way through the gravel. His body was wrecked, blood poured from his shoulder and chest. The scar on his back had come from this very creature. If he lived, he would carry one on the front as well.
He climbed the monolith, step by step.
At the top, he leaned against the black coffin, peering inside. His vision blurred, but he saw a yellow square at the bottom.
"Take it. Use it," Red's voice echoed.
Faust could barely move, but he grabbed the yellow square. It was a rough piece of paper with something etched onto it—though he couldn't see exactly what, his vision was too blurry. He infused it with mana. It used ninety percent of it.
The paper began crumbling. His bleeding started to stop, his injuries started to close.
"Just as planned," Red said one last time.
"Yeah… just as planned," Faust replied before collapsing.
They had planned this from the moment they entered the graveyard. Faust wasn't here for honor. Red had sensed something inside the coffin: runes. One stood out the most for Faust: a healing rune. He hoped it would be usable. But Faust didn't know how much mana it needed, so he chose not to use any during the fight. He gambled everything on one shot. If he won, it would be worth it. He'd be fighting alone, after all. Healing was everything.
Faust wasn't one to take risks lightly. But if the payoff was worth it—and the odds weren't suicidal—he'd take the chance. He would never have come here if he didn't trust Red's skill and knowledge of runes. In the end, it was worth it.
Hours later, Faust awoke. His body had healed, but his left shoulder—the one that had been pierced—was still weak. He could barely move it. Though exhausted and starving, he had no fatal wounds. His goblin lay beside him, motionless.
A rune burned into his mind: Heal. An intermediate-level rune. It consumed exactly ninety percent of his one-circle mana in one go. The mana cost couldn't be controlled or distributed—it had to be spent all at once. Also, the healing wasn't perfect. Scars remained and severe injuries needed multiple uses to fully heal.
Faust stood up. "I lost three goblins. My javelins and protection are gone. I lost a lot… but this rune alone makes up for it. It's incredibly useful. I also learned a lot from this fight, experience is a huge gain too." He muttered.
He ordered his goblin to recover leftover resources.
"There is more inside," Red whispered.
Faust looked into the coffin. Dozens of runes were carved inside. He studied them for hours. They were far more complex than any he had used until now, only less complex than those in the book.
Eventually, he realized there were only two runes, they were just drawn over and over.
"Bind and Rest. Learn," Red said.
"I almost died for them. How could I not? Of course I'll learn them."
Red fell silent.
Faust spent five days in the graveyard. He and his goblin ate glowing moss from the walls. He studied the black creature's body and skinned it—its hide was far tougher than a goblin's. The sword was heavy, rusty, and made of dark metal, but it was usable. The spear was lighter, made from wood with a black metal tip, it was better suited for the goblin.
Using leftover bones and skin, he 'crafted' armor for them both. The goblin was nearly encased in black skin—like a miniature knight. Faust made a crude poncho for himself and draped over his chest. He had no idea how to tailor. All his armor until now was just wrapped skin.
He also used goblin hides to make sacks, tied to the goblin for carrying supplies.
By the end, he had memorized the runes. But he couldn't use them.
He tried channeling mana into the coffin. Bind consumed all his mana and didn't even glow. Rest used all of it, too, but gave off a faint shimmer—still not enough to activate.
Faust could feel the runes like they were part of his own body. He knew when one was active or not. That's also why he could activate them individually—like moving a finger.
It was time to leave the cave. There was nothing left here. He had become its apex.
He took the right path and paused before leaving the cave. The trees were moving. The wind brushed his face. The forest was just ahead.
"Finally," he whispered.
His feelings were mixed. He had spent nearly a year in this cave. It became a home of sorts. He learned mana here. He trained. He grew older.
But they wouldn't stop him. Something stronger was etched into his heart—hate. His face was calm, his mind patient, but his heart raged. He would hunt the ones responsible for his village massacre. He hadn't forgotten. He couldn't.
He took a deep breath.
Then.
He stepped out of the cave.
He was out.