The sword cracked in my hands as I drove it down, but it still did its job as the monster went still. For a moment, I didn't breathe, I couldn't. I had never seen a monster die before.
I'd imagined it a thousand times, but nothing prepared me for the sight of essence rising from its corpse, shimmering the same color as its scales.
It gathered above me like drifting smoke, then sank into my skin like rain into dry earth. I inhaled sharply. It felt similar to bottled essence… but thicker, richer, more potent. The real deal.
And then, just like the cheap bottles, I felt it drain back out of me. A tingling in my blood was all I felt, then nothing.
I stayed frozen, hand still on the sword. "I… it didn't work," I croaked.
Mike's face twisted. "What a waste of essence. You'd better go back to your construction sites. Halves like you are always needed after all."
His words hit like stones, mostly because they were true. Halves like me were stronger than normal humans, good enough for hauling concrete, lifting steel beams, doing the jobs no one wanted. Maybe that would've been fine before monsters appeared.
But now everything was different. Monster cores, essences, awakening, everything ran the world. For someone like me, eighteen and broke, the only path upward was to fully Awaken. Even a weak Codex would let me hunt low-ranked monsters and stop living like trash.
But it wasn't only money pushing me.
Deep in my bones, like an old scar I felt the need to climb the Dungeon Tower. And I wanted answers. About the night my grandmother and father died when a dungeon tore into our home. Why was I the only survivor? And what was the number written in blood on my skin?
Those thoughts swelled and boiled inside me, and the pressure finally snapped.
"You bastard! This is your fault!"
I swung before I even realized it. The blade sliced across Mike's cheek, drawing a thin line of blood.
We both froze in stunned silence.
He had seen the swing coming, but shock held him still as if he couldn't believe I could be that stupid.
Did I really just hit him?
It felt good, the release, the burn of anger so I swung again.
But he wasn't there anymore.
A heartbeat later, he was beside me.
The punch he threw into my face nearly shut the world off. My vision went white, then black, then returned in painful fragments as I hit the ground with a groan.
"You want to kill me?" Mike barked. "You ungrateful bastard! I brought you here!"
Each word came with a kick to my ribs. I curled up, gasping.
"Can you believe this?" he spat to the others. "A failure like him who can't even Awaken."
"I can heal him," the healer murmured.
I reached out and grabbed Mike's shoe. My hand shook. My chest burned. Blood filled my mouth. "You… should let me… take the essence. This isn't the boss… the dungeon isn't closing."
Mike kicked my hand away, lifted his boot to crush it and then he froze.
Because I was right.
After a dungeon boss dies, the dungeon reacts. Shifts, cracks or collapses. Something. But nothing had happened.
"This is the boss room," he muttered, frowning. "I'm sure of it."
"Maybe the dungeon's too weak," the swordsman laughed.
"Shut up," Mike snapped. "Every dungeon reacts. Weak or not. Wnrn the boss dies, it starts collapsible as well."
The healer placed a hand on the serpent's corpse. "There's no magic in it. It's dead, truly dead."
I pushed myself up, holding my bruised ribs and my bloodied face. "I should've known you scammers can't get anything right."
Mike turned toward me with murder in his eyes. "I've had it with you, you little...."
But before anything, the world around turned strange and suddenly crushed down on us.
A suffocating aura slammed into my body, forcing me to my knees. My heartbeat stuttered and my breath stopped. Every instinct screamed the same thing.
Danger!
Suddenly, the corpse of the undead venomous serpent rose.
Green-black energy pulsed through it. Its body trembled. Split and tore open from the inside...
....And a nightmare burst free.
Twice the size of the serpent. A mass of writhing brown flesh. No head as it just had a gaping vertical mouth full of layered fangs. The smell hit a moment later, of rot thick enough to choke on.
Two skeletal hands sprouted from its sides. Bone-white and clawed.
One casual swipe
And a wet crunch followed.
Half of the healer vanished like that. Just… gone.
Blood splattered across my face, hot and metallic. My mind went blank as I started in dumbfounded silence. Something inside me cracked. I couldn't breathe and I couldn't think.
I couldn't move.
But a voice roared inside me:
'Stand up! Hide! MOVE! Are you going to sit here and wait to die?! Get up or you're dead!'
I thought of everything I wanted.
Climbing the Dungeon Tower. Finding answers. Proving I was more than a Half. Living.
I wanted to live.
The monster lunged. Instinct dragged me sideways. I stumbled, rolled, scrambled, anything to get away. Maybe I was too small or too weak to interest it, because it ignored me.
A scream echoed from the swordsman's, followed by a sickening, meaty crunch and then silence.
I turned just in time to see Mike sprinting toward the exit of the dungeon, leaving his axe behind, screaming down the tunnel and running for his life.
Running alone without looking back.