Silas saw through the move—the slash wasn't just fast. It tore through the space itself, leaving a glaring red arc behind that split everything that came in its path. The ground then cracked open, and the sky itself rippled in two.
The dark mage screamed as the slash tore across his chest, sending him crashing into the earth in a crater of dust and blood.
Brakgul stood tall, panting, breath ragged as his sword lowered down a bit. His voice came out low, shaky. "It… it is done."
But in reality, it wasn't the end for him.
The mage's hand twitched slightly, eyes opened, howling with the dark corruption. "Brakgul… You… Will… Fall."
A black flame then engulfed Brakgul's chest. Silas felt the pain of it—deep, burning, sinking into the bones. The sensation of it was taking the life out of Brakgul's body. A loud gasp escaped his mouth, and he collapsed to his knees.
His armour shattered. His body weakened. The world grew dark.
He tried his best to stand back up, but everything around him turned cold, empty.
Then he heard the king shouting in the distance—he was calling his name. But Brakgul couldn't answer back.
He felt his soul leaving his body, felt like he was sinking. Falling, losing everything—pride, respect, loyalty.
Then—
The dungeon, dark stone, lava, chains, a prison of endless flames.
Brakgul realised he was dead but alive. Conscious but trapped. A knight without a kingdom. A warrior without a name.
His voice echoed inside of Silas's head, quiet but full of ancient pain.
"Thank you… otherworldly human." His voice took a long pause, but then continued. "Thank you for freeing me… from this cage of hell."
The world then faded.
⸻
Back to Reality
⸻
Silas blinked as the memory of Brakgul ended,
His chest rises and then falls in a rhythm. He staggered backwards a bit, grabbing his knee to maintain his posture.
The dungeon came back into view—the obsidian tiles, the cooling corpse of Brakgul, the dim glow of lava.
"Holy shit," he muttered under his breath as he kept his palm on his mouth, covering it in shock. Eyes were fixated on Brakgul's corpse.
His hands trembled, not with fear, but from emotion.
Brakgul wasn't just some monster that spawned randomly. He was a knight, a real person, a warrior.
Someone who had fought for something—before falling and becoming a prisoner for 200 years.
Silas looked at the corpse as it slowly started turning into ash, the huge body crumbling gently like burning paper.
For the first time in a while, after entering the dungeon, he felt sorry.
He took a slow breath and whispered under his breath. "I'm sorry that I talked shit about you, buddy. You were… more than what I thought about you."
The system echoed inside his mind slowly.
[Welcome back, Host.]
[New Skill Acquired: Crimson Moon Split]
Silas looked at the new skill window.
[Crimson Moon Split – B-Rank.]
• [Upgradable Type.]
• [Potential to reach: S-Rank.]
Silas looked at the panel, eyes slightly widened with shock, voice came low. "Wait… did I just learn the skill move that Brakgul used? And that's S-Rank, the fuck?"
[Affirmative Host.]
Silas let out a long sigh as he looked at the description of the move.
[Description:]
• [A devastating slash that channels mana into a single large arc.]
• [Can cut through armour and magical shields.]
• [High damage.]
• [High mana cost.]
• [Cooldown: 45 seconds.]
Silas let out a long sigh. "Yeah… that will surely help me a lot in future fights."
Brakgul's final ashes blew away with the heat, leaving nothing behind—not even the dust.
Silas gave a small, warm smile, reflecting his gratitude and respect towards him.
Then he turned toward the boss's room door.
The massive stone door towered above him, glowing with the faint gold and red runes. Runes pulsed slowly like a heartbeat, waiting for him to enter.
Silas placed his hand on the door's handle. "Alright, let's keep moving."
He shook his head slightly as he let out a sigh. "Shall we?" As he said that, he pushed the door open.