He shot forward, sickle gripped tightly in his hand. The creature seemed startled by the sudden outburst—a momentary advantage that favored Karl. Seizing that distraction, he flung his weapon.

The sickle whistled through the air, slicing toward the beast. But before it could connect, a wall of white ice erupted, shielding the creature.

The sickle embedded tip-first into the frozen barrier, leaving only a spiderweb of glass-like cracks. It didn’t shatter—not that Karl had expected anything so dramatic.

Even without the constant erasure of his memories, the castle itself was more than enough to weaken him significantly.

Can’t the memories grant me greater strength? Karl cursed under his breath. Yet, despite his frustration, he realized he was already stronger than before. Once he managed to kill Olmer and escape this wretched castle, his strength would likely grow even further.

That was enough.

For now.

The creature hesitated, its hulking form wavering. It stepped back—a good sign. Karl stretched out his hand, and the sickle embedded in the icy wall quivered. Then, with a sharp whistle, it shot free, slicing through the air before landing firmly in his grip.

This was his new ability; Recall: anything he had held for an extended period—specifically for about a minute—could be summoned back with a mere thought. Unfortunately, the ability didn’t work on living things, only inanimate objects. Regardless, it was an invaluable boon. Karl’s greatest weakness in battle had always been how quickly he lost his weapon.

This fixes that.

He leaped onto a table, then sprang onto a floating chair. It wobbled beneath him but held steady enough.

The monster still didn’t attack. It simply stared at him with its six gleaming eyes.

Attack if you want, Karl thought, but I will still kill you.

Reaching into his pouch, he pulled out one of the corrosive claws, glanced at it, then placed it back.

At that moment, the beast—watching him with something disturbingly close to pity—lowered its heads and sighed.

It… sighed?

For a brief moment, Karl froze, stunned by the strangely human gesture. Then rage surged through him, burning away his hesitation.

This thing controlled me for so long, and now it sighs?

But there was no time to dwell on it. The creature moved, raising one massive paw, its many eyes locking onto him with deadly intent. It was ready now—Karl could feel it in the air, sharp as glass.

It doesn’t matter.

Karl leaped from the chair just as the beast lunged into the air—a shocking display of agility for something so big.

He landed on the grime-covered floor, rolling to steady himself. Above him, the chair and table were obliterated as the monster crashed down, shattering them into splinters and shards under its colossal weight.

One of the creature’s mouths opened wide, and a wave of frozen spikes erupted outward.

Karl’s mind raced.

He kicked off the ground, pushing himself backward in a quick dive. Ice rods slammed into the floor where he’d been standing, embedding themselves in a chaotic fashion.

His breath misted in the freezing air as he stared at the creature.

How am I supposed to kill this thing?

Karl looked up at the ceiling. Dozens of decrepit chairs hung upside down, suspended like eerily chandeliers. He was certain there was a reason he had looked at them—his mind was forming an idea, though he wasn’t yet aware of what it was. The same for the claws.

Karl snapped his mind back into focus, leaping away just as the creature lunged at him. Perhaps due to the clarity he now felt, its movements seemed more discernible—sharper, almost predictable.

Grabbing a tall table nearby, Karl strained his muscles as he lifted it by the edge and slammed it down onto the creature’s back. The wood shattered into splinters, but he was already moving as another barrage of frozen spikes shot past him.

His eyes flicked upward.

He jumped, and as he neared the ceiling, the world twisted. Up became down, and down became up. Karl grinned, a flicker of realization sparking in his eyes.

The monster stared up at him, while he stared down at it.

As it should be.

Karl clenched his fist and drilled a punch into the ceiling. Then jumped down, but to him, it was as though he jumped up.

The world twisted, momentum carried him downward, sickle in hand, and he hurled it at the creature mid-fall. As expected, a wall of ice shot up to intercept the weapon, the blade embedding harmlessly in its frozen surface.

No cooldowns, Karl noted. It can summon ice endlessly.

But he was already behind the beast. With a sharp whistle, the sickle ripped free from the ice and flew back into his grip. He swung it at the monster’s hind legs, drawing a thin line of surprisingly red blood across the thick fur.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

It was barely a scratch.

Karl wasn’t surprised, but he still flinched when the creature’s leg vanished from his view.

It’s getting faster!

His instincts screamed. Karl glanced up just in time to see the monster descending, viscera-like red rope flapping, claws outstretched. He threw himself backward, barely avoiding the crushing strike as the ground shattered beneath its weight.

But debris followed. Shards of stone and splintered wood struck Karl, one slamming against his right eye. His vision flashed black for an instant.

In that moment of vulnerability, the creature spun and drilled its leg into his stomach.

Pain flared, hot and sharp. Karl was hurled backward, crashing into the wall. His bones rattled, his breath came in ragged gasps, and his legs threatened to buckle beneath him. But he was still alive.

A little more.

The creature loomed closer, its steps slow and deliberate. Its three heads stared down at him, the weeping one in the center twisted into something resembling pity.

Karl raised his sickle and flung it. The blade missed, embedding itself in the ceiling.

The creature stopped, all six eyes glancing upward. Then, slowly, its gaze returned to Karl.

“Is that it?” it asked, voice thin and illusory. “This is how you intend to survive the outside world? Death will be your only outcome. Please, again—I beg you. Stay here. Remain safe.”

Karl said nothing. He simply grinned and spared a glance at Monica beside him, still asleep amidst scattered food and debris.

She deserves the rest, he thought. After all, without her momentary awakening, I’d still be lost.

He exhaled deeply, recalling the sickle to his hand, and charged forward.

The beast moved to meet him, and Karl flung the sickle again. Once more, it missed, embedding in the ceiling with a sharp thunk.

The creature paid no attention to the miss and lunged forward.

Karl clenched his fist and met the attack head-on. They collided in a chaotic blur of spikes, shadows, and blood.

He seized one of the creature’s many dangling entrails, gripping it like a slimy rope, and pulled hard. It was warm and slick in his hands, but there was no time to hesitate.

They tumbled across the hall, smashing tables, breaking chairs, and leaving destruction in their wake. Karl stayed focused on two things: surviving the monster’s relentless attacks and ensuring his strikes landed on the ceiling.

They separated, Karl landing hard on his back.

He bent his knees and kicked a table upward. It struck the beast’s side, shattering into splinters. But from the wreckage, a jagged icicle launched forward, striking Karl’s left arm.

He gasped as blood spurted, only for the wound to freeze almost immediately. A deep chill began spreading down his arm.

The creature advanced fast, its massive steps echoing across the broken hall. It was bleeding now—arms, legs, even one of its six eyes had been clawed out. Karl had done that one with his teeth. The disgusting copper taste still lingered on his tongue.

But none of it mattered now.

Karl’s eye flicked to the cracked ceiling. Then back to the monster.

He forced himself to stand, sickle trembling in his grip. His left eye burned, his vision blurred, but he could still see the creature stepping closer.

“Do you like this state of yours?” the creature asked softly, its voice tinged with something mournful. “If only you’d heeded me. Why must you be rebellious, like all those your age? Just listen. Listen to the wisdom of an elder.”

It stepped closer.

“Look at you. Broken, battered. But there’s still a chance. Give in, and I’ll protect you. I’ll heal you.”

It was nearly upon him now.

Karl smiled.

Now!

Karl clenched his sickle tightly, eyes fixed on the ceiling, and flung the weapon with all his might. It whistled through the air and struck with a resounding bang. Then—silence.

Nothing happened.

The beast below the ceiling seemed to curl its lip into a smile.

“If only you had just stayed here,” it said. “Now you die.”

Karl glanced at the creature, then smiled faintly, jerking his hand. The sickle embedded in the ceiling quivered, then shot out, flying straight into his arm.

At that moment, the ceiling began to crumble. Stone and debris fell like a meteorite storm.

Be buried. Karl thought.

In moments, the towering monstrosity was buried beneath tons of stone and rubble. But Karl wasn’t finished.

One of the creature’s heads—the one that wept—remained exposed, struggling weakly under the weight.

Karl quickly counted the remaining claws. Only six left. Something that likes to eat should be devoured by something of equal measure.

He gathered four claws and leaped into the air.

It took only a heartbeat. In the next moment, Karl descended upon the creature, claws in hand, vengeance carved into his face.

Boom!

The beast’s struggling head was pinned down by two powerful hands, claws piercing deep into its flesh. A corrosive hiss filled the air as the claws sank into the creature, its dark blood sizzling and culling the life from its veins.

Karl raised his hand, watching as the convulsing head’s darkened flesh turned a pale, deathly white.

“No, no, no!” the monster roared. “Please don’t do this. You need me. You need me to save you. The monsters… The people… They will kill you. Please, please!”

Karl said nothing, his eyes cold and unmoving as he watched the head quake frantically. Stones trembled as though the beast might rise again. But Karl knew better. This was nothing more than the futile resistance of a slaughtered animal—a pig twitching under the blade of inevitability.

“I don’t need you to save me,” Karl said quietly. “You fed me and fed from me. I suppose I shouldn’t hate you for that. But…” His heart grew cold. “I hate you for what you did afterward. You didn’t just feed; you controlled. You toyed with your food as though it had no will, no desire. If you had simply fed, this might not have happened. But instead, you chose to control me. And for that… I despise you.”

The creature fell still.

Its pale, sunken flesh began to steam, turning into black smoke that curled upward, evaporating like ink dissolving in water.

Karl remained silent, watching the creature’s final moments.

This is it.

He was free.

But at what cost?

He dismissed the thought, unwilling to linger on the memories he wasn’t sure he wanted back. The memories that gave him power.

As he turned to leave, something caught his eye—a glint amidst the rubble. Black, viscous liquid slithered out from the crevices, pooling into an odd, shifting shape.

Karl froze, his body tensing with caution. Then, recognition dawned.

Could it be… that?

Sure enough, the shape solidified into a black, strange chest, about the size of a man’s head.

Karl leaped forward and pried it open. Inside lay a brown parchment and an axe—or rather, the sharp edge of one, unmistakable in its glimmer.

A world chest, he realized. A knowledge scroll and a world item. Rewards supposedly given by the hidden voice of the world.

You have slain a nameless Astral Kin.

Karl jolted, his eyes darting into the darkness.

What in the Black was that?

A voice. He had heard a voice. Was he going mad? No, that couldn’t be it. Right?