Kallen dragged himself up the spiraling staircase, staggered steps leading him to a grand chamber. Blood seeped from his shoulder and stomach, trailing a path crimson behind.

He had been confused to find the castle still standing when he made it up there. He could have sworn he’d seen it crumbled before time had rewound at the start of his nightmare. Perhaps it would happen by father-time's hand and not the ensuing battle before him.

No chance.

At the center of the vast chamber, stood what he assumed to be the Elder Gargoyle, its mass encased by hard stone. The monstrous thing, vast and powerful, was frozen mid-snarl, wings outstretched and ready to strike.

Kallen assumed that was because of its battle with the king. Nevertheless, his breath caught at the sheer size of it: four meters tall and rippling with power, even in its seemingly dormant state.

Plated armor covered the creature from head to toe, even forming spiked ridges along its spine that came to a sharp point at the end of its tail. It had a silver helmet as well, and a massive halberd rested in its hands.

Grasping the hilt of Legacy of the Fallen, Kallen approached it cautiously. There was a certain primal fear that he felt grow with every step he took. It was enough to keep him wary, despite him knowing that there was no way the beast could hurt him for now.

The Elder Gargoyle was at least a tyrant by its ability to create minions alone, but Kallen suspected that the fear he felt was actually a subdued form of an influence ability, commonly seen by terrors or titans.

Though, he severely doubted that it was a titan. The Elder Gargoyle didn’t seem… calamitous enough. It was still dreadful, however.

Kallen moved within striking distance of the terror. He felt a strong urge to turn tail and run, but fought it back, grasping his weapon tighter. With all of his mortal strength, he struck forth, driving the weapon into the creature’s knee.

“Damn it,” Kallen hissed, stepping back. He tried again, and once more, but no such luck. Frustration simmered in his gut, but he forced himself into a few more tries. Expectedly, none yielded results.

He retreated away from the Elder Gargoyle—out of its range of fear—and focused on the dozens of dormant beasts, all frozen and encased in stone. The chamber was lined with the things, petrified and awaiting orders.

“Well if I can’t get the big one, yet—” he trailed off, stepping to the nearest stone figure.

The first kill was almost laughable. His awakened blade tore through the frozen gargoyle with ease, its head falling to the floor. The whole thing shattered a moment later, followed by…

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

Kallen moved through the chamber, taking note of the twenty or so stone columns that held up the second floor of the grand chamber.

The repetitive act of slaughtering the dormant creatures became mechanical. It was as if he were farming low level creatures in some video game. Each fell without resistance, the silence of the castle broken only by the sharp crack of stone and the crunch of debris underfoot.

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

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Another.

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

Three more.

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

[You have slain a dormant beast… ]

[You have… ]

By the time he finished, something over forty gargoyles had been killed, and two memories had been gained. He dismissed Legacy of the Fallen with a grimace, his left arm weirdly strained from the effort. He would've loved to use his right, but with it incapacitated and all…

Damn king.

A new memory materialized around Kallen—a suit of stone armor, sturdy and doubtlessly imposing. It took only seconds for him to dismiss it. “Too bulky,” he said, watching it disappear in a flash of white sparks. He examined its runes.

A blow from the terror back there would flatten it anyway. Mobility is of more use to me for now.

The second and final memory he had received from his killing spree coalesced into a small, glowing charm. It was a tiny little rock with bat wings on the end of a chain. Kallen let it hang from his neck as he checked its runes.

It was a dormant charm of the first tier, with its only ability being: [Fear is the mind killer.]

His brows rose in surprise. Charms were exceedingly rare, and to get one so early was nothing short of surprising. He brushed its cold surface with a hand, a tad uncomfortable with the way it sat against his bare chest.

“Well aren’t you a topical little charm,” Kallen mumbled. He guessed based on the name, that the amulet would work to counteract the corruption process of the Elder Gargoyle. Assumedly, the fear the beast radiated ate away at the minds of whatever was in its presence. Whenever the target gave in—most likely—the transformation would occur, turning whatever it was into a gargoyle of sorts.

Or at least that was his best guess.

A hint of a smile tugged at Kallen’s lips from the stroke of good luck, though it faded rapidly. He couldn’t shake the image of the king—half-human, half-monster. Would the amulet be enough to protect him from a fate like that? He shook his head as if to dispel the thoughts.

Kallen backed off and examined his handy work, searching the piles of rubble. He had taken a few laps of the eerie castle in search for any stragglers, but couldn’t find any.

“Slaughterer of dormant beasts that can’t fight back because they’ve been encased in stone,” Kallen said. He let a dry laugh escape him. “Bit long for a true name. But it beats Master of Sconces, doesn’t it.”

Slowly, he made his way back to the Elder Gargoyle. “Petrifier’s Bane, maybe?” Kallen made an odd face. “No… that’s even worse…”

He decided he would leave the naming up to the spell. Not that he expected to actually receive a true name after the first nightmare. Not that he had a plan to beat ‘Big-and-Ugly,’ over there either.

Well, he had the concepts of a plan. At its core, it was simple. Plan A was to gather up [Revenge], which had been recharged slightly after his nap. Since there wasn’t much more he could gather—by virtue of the two gaping wounds from the king—it wouldn’t take long. Once revenge was built up, he would wait for nightfall when the stone would crumble away, and strike at the neck of the Elder Gargoyle while it was still disoriented. It would be a quick plan. And if it failed, he would have no choice but to move on to plan B: bring the whole castle crashing down on the damn thing.

As Kallen climbed the creature, coming to a stop just on its shoulders, he propped himself against its wing and formulated plan C.

Put simply, it was to run away.

Hit and run tactics were highly unlike to work against the nightmare creature, but that was why it was plan C.

Please don’t make me use plan C.

Kallen tried his hardest to believe that plan A would work without a hitch. It had to, really. Plans B, and C were pretty terrible all things considered. It his surprise attack failed, he was a dead man.

Didn’t some famous ancient philosopher say something about everyone having a plan until they got punched in the mouth? That kind of applied here, he assumed.

Any further plan he had would probably fly out the window once things truly went down.

I need to stop thinking that way. There’s no way plan A won’t work.