Lakar's mind whirred as he considered the dungeon's warning. Could it be a monster, perhaps one of the many creatures that roamed these depths?
A chill ran through him at a more personal and troubling thought: what if the invader was someone from his own tribe, or worse, his father? The prospect of facing him, in a life-or-death confrontation, filled him with a deep sense of dread.
Lakar's emotions regarding his father were a tangled web of hurt and complexity. The man who should have been his protector and guide had devolved into a figure of needless brutality. Lakar's memories were marred by grueling training sessions that tutors conducted, which often culminated in his father entering the room to just to beat and emotional torment him. With each strike and each harsh word comparing him unfavorably to his brothers, Lakar's spirit suffered.
Yet, there were shadows of a different past, a time when his father was not the cruel figure he had come to know. In earlier days, his father might have always been considered foolish but not inherently cruel or abusive. The anger and bitterness that later characterized him had not always been part of his demeanor.
The turning point came with the loss of Lakar's two older brothers, who were killed in a tribal dispute with the surface goblins. This event marked a profound change in their father, who had once been brimming with pride for his sons. The loss seemed to have broken something in him, redirecting his grief and frustration outward in a destructive manner.
As Lakar's mind wandered through these painful memories, he found himself grappling with the harsh reality of his father's transformation. The man who once led their tribe had spiraled into a figure of tyranny and violence, his actions marked by a complete abandonment of the tribe's values and traditions.
The killing of tribe members, especially outside the context of sanctioned duels, was a shocking breach of their customs. It was an act that not only demonstrated his father's growing instability but also his disregard for the very foundations of their society. Not only that but the murder of his own advisor, a man close enough to be considered family to Lakar, was a particularly personal betrayal. This man had been a figure of trust and guidance in Lakar's life, making his loss all the more devastating.
These memories of his father's unchecked aggression and cruelty haunted Lakar. They served as a painful reminder of the broken bonds and the shattered sense of community that once held their tribe together. Lakar was acutely aware of the schemes that had been concocted within the tribe to kill his father. These plans, though whispered in hushed tones and crafted with a sense of desperate hope, always seemed to him futile and ill-fated. His father had proven time and again to possess ridiculous resilience and a terrifying capacity for violence.
He had heard stories of his father surviving attempts on his life that would have ended any ordinary goblin. Poison that should have been lethal merely slowed him down. Arrows shot with deadly intent seemed to barely hinder him. He’d even pull out the sword you embedded in his back, only to slice your throat with it.
Now, there was the potential for their paths to cross once more. Lakar couldn't help but wonder how his father reacted to his supposed death. Was there be a rare glimpse of sorrow, or the expected cold indifference? The thought of facing his father, a being of such formidable might and malice, was daunting. Lakar had grown stronger, yes, but his father was a goblin of no ordinary mettle.
The threat his father posed was not just to Lakar but to all within the dungeon. Touk, Bolka, Adrian, the human child under the dungeon's protection—they could all fall prey to his father's wrath should he discover Lakar alive and aligned with the dungeon. Such a possibility cast a shadow over their collective future, one that Lakar's newly acquired pact might not be able to dispel.
His pact needed time to mature, to become a force that could stand against such overwhelming odds. Time, however, was a luxury that might be stripped away by the sudden appearance of his father.
As he dwelled on these possibilities, Lakar also faced the painful acknowledgment of his past actions. He had once sought power for his father, hoping, perhaps naively, that it would heal the man he had once known. Now, in the cold light of the dungeon, such hopes seemed like distant dreams, crushed under the weight of his father's descent into tyranny.
Lakar's further spiraled into a series of worst-case scenarios, his mind racing with the possibilities. What if the invader wasn't his father but instead a band of adventurers? The elders had always warned him about the dangers they posed. The tales passed down in his tribe painted a grim picture of these ruthless figures; not only were they powerful enough to obliterate a goblin community, but their cruelty knew no bounds. According to the lore, if the adventurers didn't succeed in completely annihilating a goblin settlement on their first try, they would inevitably return, more formidable and numerous than before.
They would track them down, killing their warriors then burning down goblin homes, mercilessly slaughtering women and children, and plundering their possessions, all while displaying a disturbing sense of enjoyment, laughing and smiling. In Lakar's perception, goblins were nothing more than a means for adventurers to display their prowess, with each kill serving as a twisted badge of honor.
He recalled how, back in his tribe, the sighting of adventurers within the cave systems didn’t happen often, but was enough to prompt an immediate relocation. Scouts were always on the lookout, and at any hint of adventurer presence in the caves, the tribe would swiftly move their camp to evade detection and potential conflict.
What if it wasn't adventurers? What if it was—
"Lakar!" The voice sharply pierced through the haze of his spiraling thoughts, snapping him back to reality. As Lakar's awareness refocused on his surroundings, he felt the sudden sting of a slap from Bolka.
"Ouch! What—oh, sorry," Lakar uttered, slightly stunned and bewildered. He raised his eyes to find Touk and Bolka looking at him, their faces etched with concern.
"Are you alright? Do you need some healing?" Bolka asked, her voice laced with a faint bit of worry as she circled Lakar, examining him with gentle but insistent prods.
"No, no, I'm good," Lakar quickly reassured her, brushing off her concern. "Sorry, I zoned out. What were you saying, Touk?" he added, making an effort to push the disconcerting thoughts aside and refocus on their conversation.
Touk looked at him with concern, but continued anyway, "I said, we need to stick together. The dungeon will return soon to inform us about the nature of the threat. We'll have a better chance if we fight it together," Touk asserted, regaining sense of urgency. He then turned to Lakar, "When the dungeon returns, I'll ask it to forge a weapon for you. It can only make two types, would you prefer a sword, or is a dagger more your style?"
As he spoke, Touk hefted the sword he now wielded – the very same sword that had ended his life previously. He had shared this detail with Lakar earlier, saying something about the irony and poetic justice of using the instrument of his demise to protect and potentially take lives in the future.
"A sword would be fine, like the one you have," Lakar responded, deciding on a weapon that offered a balance of reach and versatility.
"Alright," Touk nodded, quickly moving on to strategize their defense. "Me and Lakar will take the front lines. Bolka, you and Adrian should hang back, focusing on providing healing support and cover fire."
Touk's plan made sense to Lakar, it reflected a tactical approach, assigning roles based on each member's strengths and abilities. Placing himself and Lakar at the forefront would allow them to directly engage with any threats, leveraging their combat skills. Meanwhile, Bolka's position in the rear, alongside Adrian, would enable her to use her healing powers effectively while also utilizing Adrian's ranged powers to their advantage.
"Sounds good," Lakar agreed, the gravity of the situation setting the tone for his concise response.
"Right!" Bolka echoed, her voice carrying a bit of worry.
The trio, along with Adrian, who was carried by Bolka, quickly navigated through the room, their attention fixed on the distant entrance. When the doorway was about a hundred feet away, they stopped choosing this spot to set their ambush, using the pillars as cover to conceal their presence. Touk, meanwhile, clutched the book close, waiting for the dungeon to reappear and provide crucial information about the nature of the invaders.
The wait was short-lived before the book under Touk's arm began to move. It slid out from under his grasp, flipping open as if guided by an unseen hand. Another quill materialized out of thin air, its tip already glistening with fresh ink. The quill moved swiftly across the pages, jotting down words in a flurry of activity.
Once the writing ceased, the book rotated to face Touk, who leaned in to read the freshly inked pages. As he absorbed the information, the color drained from his face, turning him noticeably pale.
Touk acted quickly, scribbling something on the pages before him. In response to his writing, a sword materialized out of nowhere, hovering in the air before Lakar. When he grasped it, the weapon felt surprisingly light, a clear indication of the strength and enhancements his new body possessed. Lakar, as the chieftain's son, had never been weak. His lineage provided him with natural physical prowess, and his status afforded him the privilege of training with an array of weapons, from swords and spears to bows.
While Lakar had previously favored daggers for their stealth and precision, he understood the tactical advantage of wielding a longsword in this situation, especially in the spacious room they were defending. Not to mention his new height and strength would make wielding such a weapon easier.
As for the sword in Lakar's hands, while basic in design, was clearly well-crafted. Its blade, about three feet in length, bore the marks of numerous battles: scratches, chips, and dents adorned its surface. The steel of the blade, though marked by time and use, still held a sturdy and reliable quality.
The hilt was plain, without ornate decorations or intricate designs, and the pommel at the end was equally unadorned, fashioned from the same steel as the hilt. This simplicity in design suggested a focus on functionality and durability rather than aesthetic appeal.
Grasping the sword, Lakar felt the leather of the grip comfortably fitting into his hand. The texture provided a firm, secure hold. He could feel the balance and heft of the sword, lending a sense of stability and readiness for combat.
Lakar's gaze lingered on the sword, particularly fixated on a slightly larger chip midway down the blade. Earlier, during a period of idle chatter, Touk had shared the history of the sword the he was using. He spoke of his own death, the child who wielded the sword before him, and the events that followed. It was back then that Lakar had noticed a chip, midway down the blade.
His thoughts were cut off as Touk's voice broke the silence, carrying a sense of urgency. "It's a Gloomfang, and it's already in the second hallway," he announced.
Lakar's thoughts ground to an abrupt halt at the mention of a Gloomfang. The very idea of such a creature being in the dungeon was almost inconceivable. Gloomfangs were known to dwell in the surrounding forests, not deep within cave systems like where they currently were.
From the tales he knew, Gloomfangs were cat-like creatures of immense size, standing at the height of a human. They were characterized by their thick, dark fur that seemed to meld with the shadows, especially in the dim light of forests, making them appear almost as moving shadows themselves.
Lakar recalled the most terrifying aspect of Gloomfangs — their tails, equipped with a barbed stinger similar to that of a scorpion. Unlike scorpions, however, Gloomfangs didn't use their tails for injecting venom. Instead, their stingers were used as brutal physical weapons, capable of punching holes and tearing through flesh and bone with ease.
And then there was their most notorious feature: the colossal maw filled with dagger-like teeth. The stories described how these jaws could open wide enough to engulf large prey whole, or snap shut with enough force to sever limbs.
That's when Lakar heard it, the haunting sound of the Gloomfang filled the air, a terrifying symphony that chilled him to the bone. It began as a deep, guttural growl, like the rumbling of an earthquake deep within the earth, resonating through the dungeon's walls. This growl then morphed into a series of sporadic screeches, resembling the sound of metal scraping against stone in a relentless, grating cacophony.
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The screeches were unpredictably interspersed with the howls that echoed through the corridors, reminiscent of a tormented creature wailing in the depths of the night. These howls would rise to a fever pitch, creating a sense of impending doom, before cutting off abruptly, leaving a haunting silence in their wake.
The sudden silences were almost as unnerving as the screeches themselves, filled with an anticipatory dread that made the air feel thick and heavy. The next bout of screeching would erupt without warning, each time causing a jolt of fear, a primal reaction to the primal terror of the sounds.
The Gloomfang's cries were not just sounds of a creature announcing its presence; they were a psychological weapon, sowing fear and unease. For Lakar and his companions, each screech was a reminder that it lurked just out of sight, waiting to emerge from the shadows.
When the Gloomfang finally made its appearance, the sight was so terrifying that Lakar felt a paralyzing fear grip him. He might have frozen on the spot, vulnerable and exposed, if not for Touk's quick reaction. With a swift yank, Touk pulled him back behind the safety of a pillar, just in time to avoid the beast's gaze.
As Lakar crouched there, his heart pounding, he realized that the stories and legends he had heard about Gloomfangs paled in comparison to the reality. This creature was a horrifying colossus. Touk, who was the tallest, was still only as tall as some of the shorter humans, was dwarfed to the point of insignificance by the beast's towering stature. The Gloomfang was nearly two and a half times his height.
But what truly sent a wave of dread through Lakar was the sight of not one, but three barbed tails. Each tail, armed with menacing barbs, swayed and twitched with a life of its own. The realization that the creature was even more lethal than he had been led to believe sent a shiver down his spine.
Lakar's mind raced as he tried to comprehend the enormity of the challenge before them. The Gloomfang, with its massive size and twin barbed tails, was a monster beyond his wildest nightmares.
Gripping his sword tightly, Lakar attempted to calm his trembling hands, but the proximity of the Gloomfang made it a daunting task. The beast was closing the distance, seemingly unconcerned with stealth, its massive form moving with a purposeful, unyielding momentum. Each of its footfalls resonated through the ground, the heavy thuds reverberating in Lakar's chest.
Touk leaned in closer to Lakar, his voice dropping to a whisper. "When it gets close enough, I'll initiate the attack using my ability. I need you to follow up immediately and cover me. It's unlikely I'll be able to take it down in one go," he conveyed the plan with a sense of calm determination.
Lakar responded with a silent nod, understanding the gravity of the situation. He refrained from speaking, conscious of the need for quiet and wary of his own ability to keep his voice down in such a tense moment.
Then came the beasts scream – a terrifying, ear-splitting sound that was far more intense and horrifying up close. The sheer volume and ferocity of the scream caused Lakar's skin to prickle with fear, and he found himself instinctively covering his ears in a futile attempt to block out the deafening roar.
Despite the overwhelming fear, Lakar forced himself to focus. He quickly checked his status, seeing he had 11 points of mana helped calm himself just a bit. He reminded himself that he had faced something even more formidable: the dungeon itself. The memory of the dungeon's booming voice, laden with an unimaginable power that had made his hands shake and his heart race, served as a stark comparison. If he could withstand the awe-inspiring presence of the dungeon, he could face this beast.
As the Gloomfang closed in, the time for their ambush had arrived. Bolka, with a burst of speed, dashed out from behind a pillar while cradling Adrian in her arms. She positioned him strategically in the center of the room, a significant distance from the approaching Gloomfang, which was still about 150 feet away.
The Gloomfang, upon spotting Bolka and Adrian, reacted with predatory instinct. Without a moment's hesitation, it charged towards them, its massive form accelerating with a terrifying speed. The creature's focus was singular and unyielding, zeroing in on its newfound targets.
Adrian, for his part, was ready for the confrontation. The snail began launching his small projectiles.
From his vantage point behind the pillar, about 90 feet away from Bolka and Adrian, Lakar could hear the Gloomfang's agile maneuvers. The beast, despite its size, moved with astonishing dexterity, making sharp dodges to evade Adrian's assault. The sound of its massive body crashing into tables, shattering them upon impact, and pushing off pillars with forceful leaps, filled the room with a cacophony of destruction.
However, not all of Adrian's shots were evaded. Lakar caught the sound of the Gloomfang hissing in pain as one or two projectiles found their mark, indicating that Adrian's efforts were not in vain.
The battle intensified as the Gloomfang leaped out of Adrian's line of sight, darting to the other side of the row of pillars. This movement signaled the moment for Lakar and Touk to engage. Touk, with a sense of readiness, opened his eyes wide, displaying a brief, determined smile. His eyes moved rapidly, scanning and calculating, taking in the chaotic scene in a fraction of a second before he closed them again, steeling himself for what was to come. Rising from their crouched position, he assumed a ready stance, his sword gripped firmly in hand.
As the rumbling footsteps of the Gloomfang drew nearer, indicating its close proximity, Touk sprang into action. Before the beast was even in sight, with agility and precision, he emerged from their cover, his sword tracing a powerful upward arc through the air.
Caught up in its pursuit of Adrian and Bolka, the Gloomfang, vaulting overhead, was taken by surprise by Touk's offensive. It had been so intent on its prey that it failed to anticipate an attack from the side.
The clash was sudden and fierce as Touk's blade struck the Gloomfang's midsection while it descended. The sound of metal sinking into flesh reverberated around them, drawing a roar of pain and shock from the beast.
Though Touk's attack was forceful, it only managed to penetrate an inch into the thick, muscular hide of the Gloomfang. The creature's red blood coated Touk's blade, a stark contrast against the steel. Despite the injury, the Gloomfang's resilience was evident as it quickly lashed out in retaliation. One of its barbed tails whipped towards Touk with incredible speed, a dangerous counter to his successful strike.
In sync with their planned strategy, Lakar was quick to respond. He executed a powerful downward swing, aiming directly at the tail. His sword met the barbed tip squarely. While the strike didn't break or sever the tail, it effectively diverted the attack away from Touk,
Meanwhile, Bolka and Adrian capitalized on the distraction, moving Adrian into a better position, the snail launched two larger shards towards the Gloomfang. The creature, reacting swiftly, used the back of its paw to send a swift strike to bat Touk aside and leaped backwards to gain distance. Despite its agility, one of Adrian's shards found its mark, embedding into the beast's shoulder. The impact elicited a screech from the Gloomfang, causing it to stagger momentarily and seek cover behind a nearby pillar.
Touk kept a firm grip on his sword even as the Gloomfang's powerful swipe sent him flying. The momentum carried him through the air, but he managed to roll upon landing, quickly regaining his footing with remarkable agility. Without hesitation, Touk sprinted towards the pillar where the Gloomfang had taken momentary refuge.
Gloomfangs, known for their surface dwelling, typically utilized shadows as a key element in their hunting strategy. The play of light and shadow in their natural habitat provided them with a substantial advantage, allowing them to ambush and overpower their prey with ease.
However, the cave's environment presented a different challenge. Many creatures that inhabited such dark, subterranean settings had adapted to the lack of light, developing abilities to navigate and perceive their surroundings in the dark. This adaptive edge meant that the Gloomfang's usual reliance on shadows and stealth was less effective in the dungeon.
As Touk charged toward the Gloomfang's position, Lakar's instincts kicked in, sensing danger. He saw through the creature's tactic — it was luring Touk into a trap. "Touk, watch out!" Lakar yelled, his voice cutting through the chaos of the battle.
Hearing Lakar's warning, Touk reacted instantly. He opened his eyes wide, instantly assessing the situation, and executed a swift backward jump. This quick reaction saved him from a full-on ambush as two barbed tails of the Gloomfang viciously swung out from around the pillar, aimed directly at him.
Touk managed to raise his sword in time to block one of the tails. However, the other tail found its mark, striking Touk's knee with brutal force. A sharp cry of pain escaped him as the barb punched a shallow hole.
Refusing to succumb to the pain, Touk, driven by adrenaline and determination, swiped his sword downward, targeting the softer part of the tail that had struck him. His counterattack was successful, cutting off the pointed and barbed tip of the beast's tail.
The Gloomfang let out a piercing screech and rapidly maneuvered around the pillar, targeting Touk in his now-vulnerable state. Lakar, realizing the imminent danger to his comrade, sprang into action, swiftly closing the distance to come to Touk's aid. At the same time, Adrian, ever vigilant, launched another shard at the beast. The Gloomfang, reacting instinctively, ducked, causing the shard to miss flying overhead. However, this momentary diversion allowed Lakar enough time to reach Touk.
Lakar's instincts kicked in as the Gloomfang recoiled from his swipe and darted back behind the pillar. Seizing the moment, he reached for Touk, hoisting him up under the arms to haul him towards Bolka and Adrian's location, where they would be safer.
Suddenly, Lakar's blood ran cold as he heard the heavy thuds of the Gloomfang's paws, signaling its charge towards Bolka and Adrian. The beast's relentless pursuit was a stark reminder of its predatory nature. Bolka and Adrian were a mere 90 feet away, but the Gloomfang was closing the gap with terrifying speed.
In an instant, Lakar knew what he had to do. He let go of Touk and sprinted towards the impending danger. Touk, despite his injury, pushed himself up and followed suit, limping determinedly behind Lakar.
The Gloomfang, however, was a blur of deadly intent as it surged from behind the pillar, barreling straight for Bolka and Adrian. But Adrian, the unassuming snail, had more strength than he had previously shown.
In the brief moment that the Gloomfang was airborne, hurtling towards Bolka and Adrian, something strange occurred. The formidable beast, once robust and menacing, began to slightly wither mid-leap. Its once glossy black coat lost its sheen, and the creature's body appeared gaunter, more emaciated than before. The fearsome barbed tails, drooped a bit. Even the hairs along its back, which normally lay sleek and flat, stood on end in a bizarre display.
Lakar's attention swiftly shifted to Adrian, the snail who seemed to be at the heart of this unexpected change. Despite not having been physically touched by the Gloomfang, Adrian appeared significantly hurt. His skin was marred with cracks and tears, from which a liquid seeped out. Yet, paradoxically, Adrian seemed to exude a newfound strength.
The rapid transformation of both the Gloomfang and Adrian was bewildering, all transpiring in the mere moments of the Gloomfang's leap through the air. As the beast descended, its focus shifted towards Adrian, identifying the snail as the primary threat. It seemed intent on crushing Adrian under its massive form, an action driven by a primal instinct to eliminate what it perceived as a significant danger.
However, the Gloomfang's attempt to squash Adrian did not go as planned. Mere feet above the snail, the creature inexplicably missed its target. Adrian had not moved from his spot, yet the Gloomfang's calculated pounce failed to connect. It was as if an unseen force had intervened, altering the beast's trajectory at the last moment.
In a desperate attempt to regain control of the situation, the Gloomfang lashed out with one of its barbed tails, aiming directly at Adrian. Yet again, the attack did not find its mark. The tail swung wide, missing the snail entirely, as if repelled by an invisible barrier.
As Lakar ran towards the fight, felt a distinct pull deep within himself, as if something was reaching out and tugging at his mana reserves, vying for his attention. This sensation, unfamiliar and insistent, momentarily threatened to distract him. Recognizing his tendency to become absorbed in his thoughts, he suppressed the urge to delve into this internal sensation. There was no time to explore this mysterious feeling now, not in the midst of the chaos unfurling around him.
Refocusing on the situation at hand, Lakar's gaze snapped back to the ongoing battle. He noticed Bolka moving swiftly, using the cover of the pillars to navigate the room. She was heading towards them, likely intending to offer healing to Touk.
In the midst of the chaos, Adrian's role in the confrontation became increasingly apparent. The snail, who had been a passive presence until now, was actively engaged with the Gloomfang. It was difficult to tell if Adrian was blocking the assaults, or if the beast was missing, but one thing was clear: the Gloomfang failed in all it attempts to harm the snail.
Lakar's realization that Adrian was fully engaged in defense, unable to launch his powerful shard attacks, spurred him into urgent action. Grasping the blade of his sword firmly just above the hilt for better control and balance, he bent forward and broke into a full sprint, his focus singularly on joining the battle as quickly as possible.
His speed was exceptional, surpassing anything he had experienced before. As he raced past Bolka, who was heading towards Touk to offer aid, she glanced at him in surprise. Lakar's pace was astonishing, a blur of motion that carried him rapidly towards the heart of the conflict.
Lakar's remarkable burst of speed, fueled by the wind at his back, allowed him to traverse the remaining distance to the Gloomfang in less than a second. As he closed in on the beast, he adjusted his grip and stance, readying himself for an attack.
The creature, preoccupied with its slow, calculated attempts to stab Adrian – likely to avoid triggering the mysterious force that had caused its previous misses – momentarily shifted its focus upon sensing Lakar's rapid approach. However, it seemed to underestimate him, quickly turning its attention back to Adrian.
In response to his approach, the Gloomfangs' tails instinctively reacted. Swift and deadly, they lashed out towards Lakar. He nimbly sidestepped, dodging one tail, and then, seizing the moment, he counterattacked. With a fluid and precise motion, he directed a powerful upward swing at the other tail. It was as if the air itself facilitated his strike, the wind parting effortlessly around his sword, offering no resistance as the blade sliced through the air.
His sword met the tail with a clean, swift cut, severing it from the Gloomfang. Startled by the unexpected ferocity and effectiveness of Lakar's attack, the Gloomfang recoiled and leaped away in a defensive maneuver. This sudden movement left it vulnerable, and Adrian seized the opportunity. The snail launched a large shard with deadly accuracy, embedding it deep into the Gloomfang's back.
In a moment of impulsive decision-making, Lakar quickly reversed his grip on the sword and, with a burst of energy, threw it at the Gloomfang like a javelin. It was a risky move, given that a sword is not designed for such a purpose and typically lacks the aerodynamics of a javelin. Under normal circumstances, the sword should have faltered in its flight, losing momentum and falling to the ground.
However, defying all expectations, the sword sailed through the air with remarkable precision and velocity. It seemed to defy the laws of physics, not only maintaining its trajectory but also appearing to accelerate midway through its flight.
As the sword hurtled towards the Gloomfang, the beast, with a keen sense of danger, quickly dove to the side to evade a direct hit. Despite its efforts, the sword grazed its side, leaving a long, deep gash. The Gloomfang, though injured, did not falter or show signs of slowing down. It immediately regained its footing and turned back towards Lakar and his allies, moving with a renewed sense of urgency. A trail of blood followed the beast as it weaved skillfully through the pillars, its agility undiminished by the wound.
Realizing the immediate need to regroup, Lakar swiftly picked up Adrian. The snail, still recovering from its exertions, only offered a slight resistance. With Adrian securely in his grasp, Lakar sprinted back towards Bolka and Touk, moving as quickly as he could.