1st Person POV – Kaito Mugenrei
Blood drips from my blade, running down the black steel like dark rain. The cavern is silent now—except for the sound of my breathing. Around me lie broken kobold bodies, torn apart without hesitation. I stand still among them, letting the silence swallow everything.
My arms ache. My chest burns. I glance down at the cuts and gashes crisscrossing my body… and then watch as the bleeding slows. Flesh knits itself together, slowly, like invisible hands are sewing me back up. It's a familiar sight.
I tighten my grip on the greatsword and turn toward the deeper tunnels. I don't look back. No one's coming. No one ever does. I've lived with that fact for as long as I can remember.
People don't listen. People don't care. I learned early to stop expecting anyone to stand beside me. If something has to be done, I'll do it alone. I've always done it alone.
The air thickens the deeper I go. The walls are claw-marked and stained with old blood. I recognize the signs—a sub-nest. A smaller den connected to something much larger near Korvath. I've known about these for a while, but telling anyone would be a waste of breath. They'd ignore me, or worse, get in the way.
My footsteps echo on the stone as I enter a wide cavern. The air here is damp and heavy. Moss on the walls glows faintly, painting everything in a sickly green hue. And then, I hear it—heavy breathing. A deep, low growl.
From the shadows steps a Kobold Warchief—massive, towering at least three times my height. Its jagged sword drags against the ground, sparks flying. Crude armor plates cover its chest and shoulders like a patchwork of stolen metal.
I raise my blade, and a faint grin spreads across my face.
It charges, faster than it looks. The ground trembles with each step. Our blades meet in a violent crash, shockwaves shaking loose pebbles from the ceiling. The Warchief's strength is overwhelming, every strike heavy enough to crush bone. I parry, deflect, twist, but some blows still cut through. Its blade slices across my side, deep. Another hits my shoulder. Pain blossoms like fire.
And with every wound… I get faster.
The rhythm of battle changes. My aura flares, violent and sharp. My feet move without thought, my arms strike without hesitation. I attack, again and again, ignoring the blood soaking my clothes. Pain isn't a weakness.
Pain means I'm alive.
I slip past a heavy swing and drive my blade upward with explosive force. Sparks explode. The Warchief roars, stumbling back. I don't give it a chance to recover. Another slash. And another. I throw myself into the fight like a storm—reckless, relentless, unstoppable.
One final step forward. I twist my grip.
My blade howls through the air.
The Warchief's head flies from its shoulders in a clean arc.
The massive body collapses with a thunderous crash, shaking the cavern. Blood pools at my feet, hot and steaming in the cold air. My chest rises and falls slowly as my wounds begin to close once again—slower this time, but enough.
My eyes catch on the Warchief's greatsword lying beside the corpse. The blade is enormous, black with deep red streaks running along its edge like veins. I reach down, grab the hilt, and lift it onto my shoulder. It's heavy. I like it.
No words. No audience. Just me, the dead, and the path ahead.
I turn away from the carnage and walk into the tunnels.
I emerge from the cavern entrance, blood still dripping down my arms. The light blinds me for a second. I see the miners. The two adventurers with their cart. Their eyes are wide—half in shock, half in fear.
The white-haired guy, He steps toward me. His hands glow faintly with healing magic.
"You're hurt. I can—"
"No."
I cut him off without looking at him. My voice is calm, cold. Not anger. Just fact.
I don't need their help. I've never needed anyone's help.
Without another word, I adjust both greatswords on my back and walk past them, out into the forest. The air outside is sharp, carrying the scent of pine and blood. My wounds are still closing, but it doesn't matter.
I walk into the treeline alone—just the way it's always been.