The monster's scream filled the chamber, shaking dust loose from the ceiling. Heat pressed against Alaric's skin as its molten maw lunged toward him.
For a heartbeat, he froze. His baby body, his trembling arms, his tiny frame—every instinct screamed to curl up and cry.
But the threads inside him—life's warmth and death's chill—roared louder.
His fingers clenched tighter around the little staff Ashen had cut for him, knuckles white.
"Gh…!"
He raised it clumsily, thrusting forward with both hands just as the monster closed in.
Mana flared.
Green and gray light burst from his staff, slamming into the beast's skull. The impact was weak compared to Ashen's flawless strikes, but it was enough to make the monster reel back with a hiss, ichor dripping across the stone.
Alaric's golden eyes went wide. His tiny chest heaved.
I… I hit it?
The thought barely had time to form before the monster shrieked again and came back twice as fast.
Alaric screamed back, high-pitched and panicked, swinging his staff with all the strength his toddler body could muster. The blow clanged uselessly against its shoulder, but the mana coursing through him sparked again—this time exploding in a wild burst of green light that seared its cracked flesh.
The beast reeled again, but Alaric's body paid the price. His arms felt like lead, his legs shook violently, and sweat poured down his forehead. His breaths came fast, uneven.
Still, he forced himself upright, staff wobbling in his grip.
No way. No way I'm just lying down while Ashen does everything. I'm not some accessory. I'm… I'm here too.
The monster lunged again, claws raking across stone as it swiped for him.
Alaric staggered sideways, tripping over his own feet, the staff nearly slipping from his hands. His tiny body hit the mossy floor hard, breath knocked from his lungs. Pain shot up his side.
Tears welled instantly, stinging his eyes.
"…Nghh!"
That hurt! Oh my god, that actually hurt! Stupid baby body, can't even dodge properly—!
The claw slammed down where he'd been lying a heartbeat before, cracking stone. Ichor splashed, hissing against the moss.
Alaric scrambled back on his hands and knees, staff dragging behind him, heart hammering so hard it drowned out everything else. His breaths came in short, broken gasps.
He was terrified. His body screamed to give up.
But the threads inside him refused.
The mana pulled him up again, pushing into his trembling limbs, demanding he move. Demanding he fight.
Alaric grit his teeth. His golden eyes narrowed.
"…Gh…!"
He stumbled to his feet, staff raised again. His knees knocked together, his arms shook, but he didn't let go.
The monster screeched and lunged again.
This time, Alaric swung downward with all his weight behind it.
The staff connected with its claw—clumsy, weak. But mana poured through the wood in a wild surge, exploding in a spray of green light. The beast's arm snapped back, ichor splattering across the floor.
The recoil sent Alaric tumbling backward, landing hard on his rear. His staff clattered against the stone. His arms went limp.
His chest heaved. His head spun. His body ached all over.
But for the first time, he realized—
He wasn't dead.
He had fought back.
The monster's molten eyes burned hotter, ichor hissing where Alaric's magic had struck. It reared back, screeching, the sound splitting through the cavern like jagged glass.
Alaric flinched, clutching the staff tighter. His ears rang, tears spilling down his cheeks unbidden.
Damn it… I can't… I can't even cry right now. Not when it's still standing.
The beast lunged again.
Alaric barely managed to roll sideways, his tiny body scraping against rough stone. Pain shot down his arm as skin tore, blood welling on his elbow.
He hissed through his teeth.
Great. Now I'm bleeding. Fantastic. Ten out of ten, would reincarnate again.
He pressed his hand over the scrape. Heat surged from his chest, flowing into his palm. The wound closed in seconds, skin knitting back together.
His golden eyes widened.
It worked…?
No time to marvel. The monster's claw slammed down inches from his head, cracks splitting across the mossy floor.
Alaric scrambled up again, staff wobbling in his grip. His body was beyond exhaustion, his baby muscles screaming. But the threads inside him pulsed harder now—green warmth wrapping his veins, gray chill gnawing at his bones.
They wanted out.
They wanted to be used.
The beast came down again, maw splitting wide, molten ichor dripping toward him.
Alaric screamed, thrusting the staff forward with shaking arms.
This time, both warmth and chill surged together.
Green light flared from one hand, gray shadow from the other. They tangled violently, colliding in the staff, then burst outward in a crackling wave.
The cavern shook.
The monster reeled back, ichor sizzling where the beam struck its chest. Its screech warped into a guttural roar, its molten veins dimming for a moment under the force.
Alaric gasped, vision swimming. His body couldn't take it. Every nerve screamed, every muscle spasmed. Blood dribbled from his nose.
The staff slipped from his hands, clattering to the floor. His legs gave out beneath him, sending him collapsing onto the moss.
He couldn't move. He couldn't even breathe properly.
"…Nghh…"
That's it. I'm out. Game over. Reset the level. Someone please uninstall this dungeon.
The monster staggered, ichor dripping heavily from its chest wound. But it didn't fall. It steadied, molten veins flaring bright again as it turned its gaze back to him.
Alaric's golden eyes widened in horror. His limbs wouldn't respond. His mana was dry. His body was broken.
The beast charged.
He could only watch.
"…Tch…"
So this is it. First fight, first death… figures.
But even as despair washed over him, something burned faintly inside. A spark. The memory of the rhythm when his staff struck, the pulse of mana syncing with his body, the raw defiance of refusing to crawl away.
It wasn't victory.
But it was his first step.
The beast's shadow loomed over him, molten claws stretching wide—
—and silver steel cut between them.
Ashen stood over him, cloak torn, pale figure framed by the glow of murals. His blade gleamed as he parried the monster's strike with effortless grace. His presence radiated calm, steady, unshaken even as three beasts surrounded him.
Alaric's blurry gaze locked onto him. Relief, frustration, awe—all tangled in his chest.
"…Gh…"
I… I wanted to stand too. Just once…
His vision dimmed. His tiny body went limp against the moss.
The last thing he saw before darkness took him was Ashen's silver gaze glancing down at him—steady, unreadable, but never leaving him.
The ruin shook again as Ashen's blade moved.
And Alaric's struggle ended in silence.