Kallen let the runes fade away, knowing that he didn’t have any memories or echoes. He’d been woefully underprepared in assuming he’d notice the signs of the nightmare spell quicker. Even more-so, he didn’t suspect he’d ever be infected.

He stumbled forward with the shove of a guard. Eyes on the present.

When they emerged, a grand hall was not what he’d been expecting. The gallows, or a guillotine, or whatever the people of the dream realm fancied… sure, but not a grand hall. A powerfully crafted man wearing fine silk sat on the throne at the end of it, there were two separate crowds of people, filing down the edges. It was hard not to notice the heavy pressure of whom he presumed to be king of the castle.

No insulting the king, he decided.

One of the guards strode forward to face the king, while the other shoved Kallen into the middle. He was barefoot, missing a shirt, and drenched in blood… it was hard not to feel entirely out of place. Every one present—other than him—was either obviously nobility or a soldier of sorts.

The spearman in front of the king whispered something before turning to face Kallen. The king rustled from his spot on the throne, shifting from one side to the other. His chin rested in the palm of his hand, while the other held a goblet that was gingerly placed to his lips.

When he was finished with his drink, he spoke. His words began as a whispered breath against Kallen’s ears, as if he weren’t allowed to hear what the man began his sentence with.

“... are sentenced to execution. Effective immediately.”

Kallen nearly sputtered when a dulled sword was tossed to his feet. He looked to the king. Then to the two guards who were moving to flank him. Wasn’t this supposed to be an execution. Where was the torture weapon? The execution device? The theatrics? He would have been disappointed if the situation didn’t benefit him.

A warrior style execution, then.

Kallen dug his foot under the blade of the weapon, a sharp edge nowhere to be found. He kicked it up, catching it in his right hand. The blade was short—a one handed sword.

A man adorned in golden plated armor stepped from the crowd, his beautiful spear and shield pair a testament to his apparent wealth. Thankfully, he didn’t appear to be awakened. There was no otherworldly power emanating from him.

“Full plate and a shield against a man with no armor and a faulty weapon? A tad cowardly, no?” Kallen took measured steps as the two circled each other.

“If it were a duel,” was all he said, voice muffled by his helmet.

The golden knight then lunged forward striking with his spear from behind the towering shield.

Kallen was surprised by how sluggish the attack seemed; he dodged, his [Revenge] attribute surely playing no small part.

The knight retracted his spear and thrust it again. Again it missed his mark. Kallen dashed to the side at the onset of another thrust, batting it to the ground with his blunt blade.

Eyes screaming with delight, Kallen swung his blade as the thread of opportunity arose. His blade hurled through the air, a whistle barely audible. He felt a connection with that whistle… the vibrations called to him, but when his sword connected with the armored breastplate of his opponent, a much harsher vibration nearly made him drop his weapon.

A brief moment of hesitation was enough to grant him a metallic fist to his face. Kallen’s nose may have shattered, but truthfully in the moment he had no clue.

He fell back, mind blank as his head rebounded on the stone. His consciousness came to him a few moments later, and he could barely recognize the golden plated man standing above him, spear poised.

Kallen smiled a mad, bloody grin. As the spear descended in slow motion, the pain from his face, from his stomach, and his muscles, it all culminated so beautifully with his [Revenge] ability.

Kallen reached out and took the spear through his hand. Its blade parted his flesh, but he gripped down on the the shaft as it was inches from his heart. He yanked his arm to the side and the knight,still holding the weapon, stumbled.

Sweeping his opponent off his feet, Kallen hastened upright, stumbling back a few steps as he allowed his balance to come back to him slowly. Strength flowing through him, he felt like a true awakened warrior—despite him only being an aspirant.

A mere yard away, the knight slowly rose to his feet. Kallen ripped the spear from his hand, snapping its metal shaft and tossing it behind him where it clamored against the ground. He once again felt a connection to the vibrations that were born from the spear.

Eyes still trained on the knight, he reached out for that sensation, and tugged.

A deafening ring assaulted the keep. The knight fell to a knee, gauntleted hands shooting to cover ears that were beneath his helmet. Kallen rushed forth, a front kick snapping forward with force befitting someone who had an enhancement-esque attribute.

The knight had brought his shield to defend the blow, but he’d still been sent sprawling—a sizable dent in the exquisite tower shield.

Kallen began to stride forward, to rip the knights helmet off and declare himself the winner, but then the king blurred… he literally blurred and placed a finger to his chest.

A sharp pain flared in Kallens chest, then he felt something overwhelm his mental defenses. He crumpled, consciousness leaving him instantly.

~~~

A few ribs were definitely broken. Somehow. Kallen tried to move his hands, but he was bound again, back in that damn cell. He could only vaguely remember the king attacking him.

What a coward.

It hadn’t taken long before said coward was standing in front of him, two guards flanking each side as they stood away from the cell’s bars.

Kallen glanced around at the guards. “There are too many of you to keep track of… how am I supposed to name you all when I can’t tell who is who?” He then looked at the king. “Seeing as how i’m once again chained up—beautiful cell by the way—I take it I’m hopefully not being executed anymore?”

The king raised a brow. “That unfortunate looking jailor mentioned you had quite the mouth on you.”

“Unfortunate looking… that’s what I thought.” Kallen smiled at the man. “You sir, seem like a sensible and honorable man. What can I do for you?”

The sensible and honorable king studied him. He looked him up and down, as if finding something valuable on his person. “My eyes have never led me astray… but I find myself doubting them today. What is your name?”

“Kallenir.”

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“Kallenir… you do not belong here… do you?”

The smile left Kallen’s face immediately. A similar panic he’d felt when he’d noticed he was infected spread like wildfire. “Don’t belong, how?”

He reasoned he would already be dead if the king still wanted him executed. Even though these guys seemed to take a more ‘let the prisoner die fighting’ approach to execution, he was sure they’d have no difficulty finishing him off after he displayed his ability to take out the golden knight. Thus, since he hadn’t been killed already, he probably wasn’t in too much danger. Probably.

“I can sense when others are… special.” The king narrowed his eyes and began to say something but a low rumbling forced his attention elsewhere. He looked over his shoulder, glancing at the guards and then turning from the cell. “I’ll be back… stay put. I’d like for us to come to an amicable solution.”

Kallen waved as best he could. “Until next time sensible and honorable king.”

One of the guards looked back at him as they walked away. He recognized that emotionless glare. It was dickhead-guard. Kallen gave him the middle finger, but the man didn’t show any expression. Of course, he had a helmet on. Dickhead-guard, though, had a certain air about him, it was easy to tell him apart from the others.

I hope you die slowest.

~~~

Kallen waited for a while. There wasn’t much to do other than listen to the screams of men dying and stone crumbling. The echoing cacophony of distant explosions occasionally made dust drift down from the ceiling. Tremors shook the dungeon making his chains rattle against the walls. Obviously, the nightmare creature up there seemed pretty powerful, which meant he would have to fight it at some point.

Though it would be a little difficult if he were still chained to the wall.

I need to pee, he thought. Then, the itch came back. That was probably the worst part.

Scrunching his nose once again, Kallen opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, situating his lips every which way in order to scratch his nose. It didn’t work. He yanked on the chains, feeling a dull ache from his shoulder blades from the effort. A discontented huff escaped him.

Left with time alone to think, he studied his runes once more.

They all seemed pretty useful, and two of the three were likely to be invaluable in his inevitable battle with the nightmare creature up there. From the sounds of it, it was at the very least a demon or a devil. Which was… well it wasn’t ideal.

He found himself wishing there were another prisoner down here. Though he could imagine the fear that would probably emerge from someone who didn’t realize they were in a nightmare.

“Quit screaming. What is there to even be scared of?” Kallen would ask.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Mystery Person would probably reply. “Could it be the ominous shaking? Or the screaming? Or maybe it’s the whole imminent-death thing I’m sensing. Hard to say.”

Hmm, Kallen thought. Maybe I’m better off on my own.

Was it weird he was making up scenarios in his head? Most likely. That bastard Mystery Person would probably make fun of him for it too.

What an ass.

A louder explosion rocked the dungeon. This one was close enough to make the torches flicker. If he had been on his feet, he might have stumbled.

Kallen’s eyes narrowed, he calculated the odds; how much more could he wring out of [Revenge?] The attribute, he’d found, didn’t exactly work as a steady multiplier. When he was struck, he had felt himself grow a bit stronger, but it was more like he was storing pain for a short burst of excellence rather than accumulating it and distributing it for a steadier, but more modest power-up.

Perhaps he could make modifications with practice or testing, but that would have to wait. He needed the strength to escape his bonds. Soon, before something unsavory came for him.

As if on cue, he heard several metallic dings sound in the distance. They were footsteps, but not the same as any of the knights. The gait was more unsteady. Sporadic. It was as if a nightmare creature were wearing metal boots.

Sure enough… a creature came into view. It stood maybe a few inches taller than him, with a hunched back, tucked in bat wings, and a pair of asynchronous horns—one sticking up straight and the other curling back like a goat’s. It regarded Kallen with glowing red eyes beneath a perfectly fitted helmet that covered the top of its head, leaving room for its spiraling horns.

The creature walked toward him slowly, head cocking from side to side as it studied the threat. Though, it only appeared to be mimicking intelligence. There wasn’t a thought behind those eyes other than murder.

A louder explosion rocked the dungeon, the torches briefly went out before lighting themselves again. The gargoyle stumbled, but caught itself on the ground.

Kallen dug his knees into the ground and pulled on the chains in an attempt to build up as much pain as he could: his teeth gnashed and he felt lightheaded when he finally relented.

“Hey gargoyle…” he caught his breath for a moment. “Sir, Would you care to leave me alone?” He showed his palms, as if to prove he didn’t have a weapon and wasn’t a threat. “Or, at least let me out of these chains so we can do glorious battle in a more… proper fashion? I promise I will not run away.”

The gargoyle huffed, shaking its head as a ram would before it charged something.

All things considered, Kallen found that he was in a pretty good position. The gargoyle couldn’t have been anything more than a dormant beast at most. Since first nightmares only had one nightmare creature tailored for its aspirant… it would explain why the spell had deemed it sufficient to bind him and place him in a dungeon. The setting was offset by such a weak nightmare creature being the final boss. The explosions up top were probably just an invading force of other humans, and this gargoyle, likely, was another prisoner of sorts.

Well… maybe. It was the best explanation Kallen could come up with.

I accept your benevolence, oh great spell. I will fight spectacularly… though the lack of weapon is a little concerning.

When the gargoyle finally made its way to the metal bars of his cell, Kallen reasoned it was better to strike now than ever.

Feeling [Revenge] settle in his gut, he yanked hard against the chains binding his wrists. The raw fury from his attribute amplified him to a staggering degree and the metal groaned under the strain before finally snapping. The sudden release sent him lurching forward on his hands, but he caught himself and crawled for half a step before rising to a sprint—all in the same breath.

The gargoyle let out a grunt in surprise.

Kallen’s hands slammed into the bars to stop his momentum. He grinned, bloodied and wild-eyed as he slipped an arm through the bar and grabbed the beast by its spiraled horn.

A growl escaped him as he pulled the nightmare creature. Its helmeted head smashed off of the iron bars. The gargoyle stumbled backward, dazed and swinging its sharp claws every which way.

Kallen backed up. He’d expected the head trauma to do a little more than knock the helmet off the creature. But it was still stumbling around from the force of the collision.

With [Revenge] seeping away, it left him with a startling feeling of weakness. It was like lactic acid buildup, but multiplied by a thousand and drenched in liquid flame. His muscles and tendons screamed. And to top it off, the nightmare creature was slowly bringing itself together.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

In response, the gargoyle screeched, claws reaching through the bars in an attempt to tear him to shreds. Seemingly noticing the barrier, it took a step back and grasped the metal, shearing it with astounding strength.

Shit…

Kallen hadn’t done much martial training in his life. He was a studier. A test taker. He was something of a bookworm, even despite the fact that he didn’t exactly look or act like one. Thankfully, his body in this nightmare was a tad more robust than he was in real life. It would help with his next maneuver.

As the outstretched claws swiped at him, Kallen dropped low, grasping the legs of the nightmare creature and thanking the heavens it was humanoid. Then, before it could claw his back, he lunged backward, slamming himself and the creature into the wall behind them.

It crumbled off of his shoulders as he rose to his feet, panting. That little move of his had—thankfully—caught the gargoyle at just the right trajectory, shoving its own horn into its skull.

[You have slain a dormant beast, Elder Gargoyle’s Follower.]

Kallen would have shouted in excitement, but as he waited for the spell to congratulate him, tell him his nightmare was over, and prepare him for his appraisal, nothing happened. He didn’t even receive a memory.

He bent over and studied the gargoyle’s corpse. He would have kicked it to make sure it was dead if not for the spell telling him he’d slain it.

Suddenly… a wretched thought formed in his mind. If I just killed that thing… and the nightmare isn’t over…

His eyes widened. It meant that the nightmare creature for him… the one the spell created just for him was at the very least a tyrant—something capable of creating its own minions.

Then the explosions…

The chaos outside the dungeon grew louder and louder, until suddenly, it stopped.