Uno

I mused about the new item kindly created by the third-floor trial. It was certainly an interesting thing - a useful tool filled with insidious poison. I learned that regeneration seemed to be a big deal in the world of Yana. The reason was simple - there weren’t many reliable means of healing existing on this forsaken planet. Those available - like potions made by half-elves or rare light magic users, for example - were out of reach for a common man. This made starvation a small price to pay for keeping one’s life. Or so it seemed.

I chuckled. [I wonder if they’ll still consider it as such when the ravenous hunger forces them to devour their friends and loved ones.]

It was a perfect setup.

But - more importantly - it was readily usable.

[Hahahaha!]

Maybe these Trials weren’t so bad, after all? I wouldn’t mind spreading this “prize” around the globe, sowing chaos.

As I was wasting time thinking, the world kept going.

The Golem glowered over the invaders, its iron skeleton radiating a silent threat. Humans’ only response was to clutch their weapons even harder, gulping down the excess saliva.

This standstill continued for over a dozen seconds.

After that the iron golem moved violently - like it broke an invisible collar - it lowered its body menacingly, looking like a sprinter preparing for a run. One of its arms was kept in the air, on the same level as its face. It was using it both as a makeshift shield, defending the vulnerable core, and like a spear, prepared to pierce anything that stood in its path.

Then, with a horrible screech made by the metal striking the stone, it started to run. I could sense the hatred it stewed in, the outrage stemming from the knowledge that these dirty insects were invading its home.

*bang*

*bang*

*bang*

The noise echoed in the chamber as my monster came closer and closer.

The adventurers’ reaction was interesting. After the first moment of hesitation, instead of running away, they steeled their composure, even as their pitiful spears were clearly insufficient to deal with the danger. I could see their gritted teeth, a thick coating of sweat, and fearfully dilated eyes.

Their bodies trembled, sensing approaching demise.

And yet they stood against the giant comprised of metal and hatred.

In the end, however, their resolve ended up untested.

A loud order broke the stalemate. “Scatter! Now, for fuck’s sake!” Knut’s command immediately dispersed the formation turning it into a collection of fleeing individuals, each of them screaming and scrambling to avoid Golem’s attack.

They escaped, fueled by fear of death and adrenaline.

All of them, but one.

Big Jon was never fast or quick to react - his weight, slow thinking, and overall clumsiness only added to the equation. Still, in normal circumstances, he too would be able to run away, just like his companions did. Everybody forgot about one minor detail, though.

His leg.

It was still swollen, bandaged, and weak.

I observed his struggle with a strange sense of schadenfreude.

Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion.

The big man turned desperately, trying to sprint away from the danger only to grunt in pain instead. The barely closed wound split open, spilling red all over the ground. He crumbled to his knees, sounds of labored breathing filling the air. After a few curses spoken in a terse tone, Big Jon glanced at the damaged limb that betrayed him in the most important moment. Then, with teeth clenched so hard that they started bleeding, he rose again, using his spear as a crutch.

He faced the approaching enemy, his face hardening with resolve. Or was it a simple resignation? He lifted his spear, intent on defending to the last.

The few remaining seconds before the collision passed even slower, as I observed the animated monster clash with the large human. The result was easy to predict, as Big Jon’s body was flung in the air, accompanied by scattered pieces of his weapon. A while later he hit the nearby wall and then slid down, leaving a trail of blood on the stone. At the same time, I could hear a loud crack, suggesting that he didn’t come out of the fight unscathed. I predicted a few broken ribs at the very least.

With his unfocused eyes and battered body - not to mention blood that seeped from every centimeter of his flesh - Big Jon looked more like a corpse than a living man. Yet he still drew breath.

These humans really were like cockroaches...

My Golem fared surprisingly worse, a piece of the enemy’s spear somehow scratched the surface of its core. The creature howled angrily, just like a beast, spreading its arms in a menacing fashion. It took me by surprise, after all, most of my minions were unable to speak. How was it that this one was different?

Despite my reaction, the fight continued, as the Golem started marching towards Big Jon, obviously keen on finishing the job. It was however interrupted a moment later by a flying dagger.

“Keep it busy!” Knut ordered, as he threw another weapon and succeded in redirecting the monster’s attention. “And for Brighton’s sake, can somebody try to wake the giant up! We need him!”

One of the brothers nodded fiercely before both of them surged forward, their spears striking the Golem’s crossed arms. No damage was being inflicted but my monster focused on them nonetheless. The pair of criminals with their bald heads and the same faces looked like battle dolls trying to fulfill their master’s command. Their battle felt strangely pleasing to the eye.

The brothers exhibited unparalleled cooperation as they tried to poke a hole in the brightly lit heart of their opponent. When one of them came under fire, the other tried to bail him out by recklessly lashing out at the Golem.

The iron machine hissed in annoyance - it wasn’t having any of that, especially when its prey was just behind a corner. It swept from left to right with the metal claws, trying to draw blood and slow down the annoyingly nimble opponents.

Yet the Golem was too big, too bulky, which made it hard to use quick, controlled movements thus allowing the agility to triumph over strength. It didn’t help that the monster’s attack was easy to predict, monotone even - and this weakness was easily picked up by its opponents.

Their confidence grew as the fight progressed.

I really hoped that it was just a tactic to make them slip up. Yet minutes passed by and the scales of victory started tipping in the invaders’ favor.

Knut and the brothers were keeping the giant busy, while the rest of the team - Mudan, Silence, and his remaining crony focused on waking up Big Jon. It was an arduous process, mostly comprised of smacking his face and shouting. Slowly he came to but some time would pass before he would be of any use.

I was bored. My only choice was to watch, so I tried to use [Analyze] on the Trial’s creation.

Cored Bile-brain Golem

A metal skeleton piloted by a Bile-brain, one of the unholy abominations created in a Forgotten Dungeon. Its metal structure allows for dealing quick and powerful attacks, which coupled with a durable body creates a perfect killing machine. Too bad that the “pilot” in charge of it struggles with even the most basic planning and is incapable of precise movements, lowering its performance to the level of a common beast.

Additionally, unlike its dungeon-spawned brethren, this monster carries a glaring weakness - the glowing core, which provides it with energy. Destroying it will halt the golem’s operation leaving Bile-brain open for attack. It can and will use weapons and armor if available, and is also capable of understanding basic commands.

Threat level: E+

Wait, what?

Why was it so weak?

A big, brawny monster was classified by the System as barely stronger than a Ratling?

How?

I grew angry but the emotion soon cooled down. I had to see and judge the situation with my own eyes. Right now observing the Bile-brain was my only option.

So I just started to watch.

A few minutes later the situation cleared out. Even when I lacked body and experience, even when my knowledge about fighting was limited to games, movies, low-level invaders, and my imagination… even then I could tell that something was wrong.

The Golem reacted to spear pokes in an angry, animalistic fashion, backing off and then focusing on the person who attacked it. To make matters worse it was using the same two attacks - swiping left and then right with its claws. Even when it managed to corner one of the humans a swift dagger attack was enough for it to change the targets.

There was some potential for damage when I was considering the Golem’s first charge, yet right now - when it was being muddleheaded and surrounded by enemies - it was pretty much worthless. Just a big punching bag to be trampled on.

It was a hopeless situation.

Yet there was light in the darkness.

A way out.

As a dungeon monster, the Bile-brain Golem was capable of receiving commands, more so - the undead were able to hear them directly, unlike my Ratlings or other living thralls. I had to try... Hopefully, there wasn’t some absurd rule in place, like “the trial monsters are removed from your control” or similar bullshit.

[Focus your attack on one opponent! Ignore the rest!] I commanded and the Bile-brain stopped, confusingly staring at the invaders. This, of course, elicited a bunch of responses.

“What’s going on?”

“Is it dying?”

“Something changed… Look out!”

Which quickly turned into unfounded confidence.

“Kill it! We’re doing this shit!”

“Goddess, help us!”

“Uwaaaaah!”

“Use this chance! Charge!”

Even coward Silence and his minion joined the fight, leaving only Mudan still fussing over Big Jon - all because of the growing chance of victory. Yet there was a malicious glint in Knut’s eyes. He also noticed that the Family’s enforcers left the burden of fighting on their shoulders.

I nodded to myself. Humans remained the same, even in the direst circumstances.

My attention however returned to the monster.

It wasn’t dying as invaders assumed but I could sense something weird from it. Was it… confusion?

Oh.

Right.

The instructions were unclear. It had no idea what to do.

[Kill the bald one!] I specified, and a moment later Bile-brain turned its gaze towards the pair of brothers… And then it just stood there - at least it was trying to block some of the incoming hits. The invaders noticed this change.

“What? What’s going on?”

“Stay frosty, brother!”

I hissed in annoyance. How stupid this thing could it be?

[Attack only the bald human on your left. Ignore the rest!] I reiterated.

This time the iron giant moved, its hesitation gone like it was never there.

“Dodge!” One of the criminals screamed as a Bile-brain claw left a mark on the nearby ground.

“Shit, shit, shit!”

“The daggers aren’t working anymore!” Knut wheezed as Bile-brain ignored his assault. “We need a solution!”

“Help!”

“H-hurry!”

One attack came after another, each barely avoided by the gasping human. His brow was full of sweat, each breath - a battle. I smirked. It was clear that my creation was superior in the way of resilience.

[Slow and steady wins the race.]

A while later the claws connected, leaving a long wound on the human’s chest. He screamed in pain, tumbling to the ground. His brother jumped in, the spear helplessly trying to pierce the Golem’s core, only for the man to get smacked by its off-hand and sent flying... to the left of my minion.

“Gyaaaaaah!”

Bile-brain hesitated, as it gazed at the wounded man lying before it, before turning its attention to the one that was trying to defend him. Seemingly making a decision it grunted and ignored the squirming man in favor of his companion. The Golem stomped away to continue its assault on the second brother.

I grumbled, feeling a mounting headache.

[What the hell are you doing?] My anger rippled through the dungeon, as I screamed out, seeing its idiotic actions. This sudden action forced the spectating monsters to curl up, afraid of my rage. Who were these monsters? Ratlings, of course. A bunch of them was peeking at the Trial chamber struggle because... why wouldn’t they? I already gave up on analyzing their actions.

[Take care of the bald one lying on the ground.] It was like controlling an old, rickety toy vending machine. All my commands were misinterpreted in the worst possible fashion. Murphy’s Law? Some unjust godly intervention? Or just plain mechanical failure?

Sighing, I wondered if Ratling Black Mages were experiencing the same problems.

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

The Golem slowly turned its menacing frame looming over the wounded man. It seemed like for this pile of bolts turning around was harder than running after its prey. Dozens of seconds passed before it finished.

Mudan was still trying to wake up Big Jon, while Knut, Silence, and his crony were constantly assaulting the iron giant, hoping to deal some damage or just sway its attention. The brothers were out for the count, one bleeding heavily, and the other was still trying to gather his wits.

A delicious situation.

[What are you waiting for? Kill him!] I nudged the monster in the right direction. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on me, as I was spouting some truly villainous lines.

The Bile-brain loomed closer and closer to the wounded man, its claws gleaming menacingly.

“S-stop… STOP IT!” A scream came from the back, from the direction of the other brother. “Stop it, please!” Tears were flowing freely on his face.

Yet no begging would convince my minion to abandon its duty.

*snikt*

*gurgle*

*snikt*

*gurgll…*

*snikt*

*snikt*

The human tried desperately to defend, but the sounds of struggle grew weaker and weaker until all that remained was the noise of metal piercing flesh.

[Enough.]

The Golem tilted its head in incomprehension.

[I said... It's enough. Kill the second bald one.] I ordered. My earlier ecstasy was already gone, only distaste remained.

“You FUCKING monster! I’ll kill you! I’LL KILL YOU!” The surviving sibling was raving mad, his eyes filled with hatred. He completely abandoned reason, sprinting towards his nemesis, the distance shrinking in mere seconds.

My minion was happy for a challenge, its three-clawed hands ready to skewer the incoming human. For once a prey was coming to him, not the other way around.

A collision happened, flesh and metal tearing and bruising.

The Golem did skewer the incoming runner but not before paying the price for it. The criminal’s spear also pierced true. Both the human and the monster reeled in pain, their screams echoing in the Trial chamber. The bald warrior was dead, his spine severed. He accomplished his revenge, though - the damage dealt was critical, Golem’s core pulsing with excess energy trying to break away and explode. Still, the Bile-brain stood tall. It wasn’t dead. Not yet anyway.

The body of its opponent has been flicked away like a piece of trash. Then the Golem turned towards the remaining survivors without my input.

It was angry and ready to rumble...

Only to eat another surprise charge - this time made by a screaming and crying giant - Big Jon, to be exact.

Unlike his predecessor, the giant’s mass was enough to send them both fighters tumbling, a piece of a broken spear firmly lodged in the weak point of my minion. They both roared, hatred, pain, and simple rage melding together.

“Die! Just die!”

Big Jon repeated these words, pushing the spear ever deeper, each attack temporarily paralyzing the Bile-brain. It squirmed under the weight, one of its arms already bent at an impossible angle. Still, its constant movement wasn’t without merit as it managed to disarm the brute that had thrown it to the ground.

Big Jon, undaunted by the enemy somehow managed to grab hold of the artifact helmet loosely attached to the Golem’s head. After a moment of deliberation, he tore it off eliciting another roar of displeasure from the monster. It took him a while to recognize what he was holding. A moment later… he used the helmet as a bashing weapon, beating the ever-living shit out of the Bile-brain.

Which worked surprisingly well.

The helmet was, after all, an artifact, even if it was made from the same material as my golem - iron. With unyielding strength, Big Jon lifted it and then smashed down. And again. And again.

“Die!”

“You!”

“Fuck!”

“Die!”

“Aaaaaaaaaaa!”

Long after the Golem stopped moving the big fellow was still crying and smashing down on the Bile-brain’s remains. His tears were mixing with the blood but he wasn’t keen on stopping.

“It’s enough.” Knut was the first to step forward, his hand resting on the giant’s shoulder.

“No! No… the brothers… Avenge...” Sobbed Big Jon.

“It’s enough. The monster is already dead. The brothers returned to the Gods too.” The lanky criminal didn’t relent.

“Are sure it’s safe? When he gets like that…” Mudan shuddered.

“Yes. He is just grieving right now.” Knut turned back. “Right?” He asked with a somber voice.

“T-the m-monster is dead…” He looked up.

“What is it?”

“The brothers’ names? What were they?”

“Uhhhh…”

“Does anyone know?”

“I thought you Silver Oasis folks knew each other?” Jested Silence.

“Let’s just call them Unnamed Brothers?” The rest of the humans continued the farce, afraid that Big Jon would suddenly snap.

“Right! It kind of does feel that way, right? The unsung heroes of the Geinard Kingdom!”

“Good.” After speaking these words Big Jon’s movements slowed down, before stopping completely. He stared dumbly at the ichor-splattered helmet held in his hand before blinking and then... putting it on.

“Ah.”

“Ah.”

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Hey!”

A series of exclamations sounded around him.

“What do you think you are doing, you big oaf?” Silence was the first one to react, his voice echoing with a dangerous tone. “It’s a magical artifact! It’s worth more gold than you can ever imagine! You can’t just… put it on!”

Knut glared at the Family’s leader before adding his two cents. “Please take it off.” He said while massaging his brow. “You don’t even know what it’ll do.” His gaze quickly landed on the remains of his companions, before skittering away.

“B-but it’s my p-prize?” The large man stuttered in response. “For beating the metal man. Avenging friends.”

“I know. You did well. Now - nobody will take it from you, we’re only going to take a look and return it promptly.” Mudan invited himself into conversation speaking in a soothing tone. His approach seemed to work as the giant grabbed the helmet in an attempt to take it off.

But he couldn’t.

I giggled insanely. I was always wondering how the curse would manifest. How would it prevent people from forcibly changing their ownership. Now I knew.

The show was just beginning, as the Big Jon’s noticed that something was wrong. Slowly their friendly jests at his clumsiness turned into a genuine concern.

“Hey, hey, it’s easy to take it off, you just grab here… and… w-why won’t it come off?”

“Let me. You all are just--- what the hell! What is this?”

Big Jon was also trying to help, yet even his strength wasn’t enough to lift the stubborn piece of armor.

“Come on, oh come on! My gold!”

“Pull!”

“Goddamit!”

“Why-won’t-it-let-go?”

The invaders huffed and puffed, joining their forces to release their friend from the artifact’s grasp. All in vain.

After watching them struggle for a few minutes I grew bored. Just as I wondered if sending my Ratlings to deal with the humans would break the Trial a voice buzzed by my ear.

[Prey. Little.] Non’s mental voice was as solitary as her personality.

[Be patient. There is an amusing party in the dungeon, but they’re currently confined in the trial chambers.]

[Can. Hunt.]

[No. Leave them alone. If - and only if - they manage to survive I’ll probably let them go.]

[Waste.]

[Right, my lord! Any creatures brazen enough to invade our home should be met with merciless retribution!] Guardian’s voice was much louder than I remembered. Were those perks of being a parent?

I snorted. [Good thing this is not a democracy, then.] After a while, I continued. [As I said, I have plans to stir trouble on the surface. Letting them know that a regenerating artifact can be acquired in my depths should tickle their greed.] A little hum escaped my mouth. [Of course, it’s not only that. The side effects will be… spectacular. I can only hope that they won’t be discovered too early.]

[Enough about me. How about your charges? I do hope you have some progress to report.]

[Training. Not. Dead.]

[I suppose it’s a good thing, right?]

[Resilient.] There was a sense of wonder contained in this short answer. Somehow I felt sorry for the little guy. [Small.]

[How about you, Guardian?]

[Yes! The kobolds are training with all their might, most of them already evolved into middle-rank monsters!] He boomed with pride.

[What does that even mean?]

[Dungeon kobolds, like some other species, have four forms - four stages of life. First, there is a Newborn (youngling), then an Adolescent, an Adult, and finally - an Elder. Each of them is progressively stronger, barring exceptions. My chi-, I mean, soldiers have already turned into Adolescents.]

[Jealous.]

[And why that knowledge didn’t come to me naturally?] I grumbled. It was annoying to have something explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Guardian shut up for a moment before continuing cautiously. [Probably because my lord’s dungeon is of a mechanical and undead type?]

[But what about the rats?] I frowned, deep in thought.

[They’re not considered a proper dungeon race. I think.]

[Oh, whatever. It’s not like the kobolds will become a pillar of my strength… Wait a moment… the fourth floor…] I started murmuring, thinking about my newest creations. Would they too have stages of life? Were they considered mechanical or maybe organic creatures?

My musing was cut short by an annoyed shout coming from the invaders.

“What the hell! What’s with this stupid helmet!” Knut screamed, before sitting down on the ground in resignation.

“Yeah… It’s pointless.” Mudan joined him a moment later, leaving Silence and his crony as the only people still trying to bend the curse magic to their will. His gaze wandered to the two dead brothers.

“Shouldn’t we do something for them?” He hesitantly asked.

“We can only move them out of the way. The dungeon will claim their flesh. It’s inevitable.”

“I thought it was dead.”

“It is.” Knut mused for a few long seconds. “Even with the core gone some basic functions remain. Otherwise, this Trial would be already defunct.”

“I see. But… let’s just move them to the corner?”

“Let’s.”

Both of them delicately moved the mangled bodies of their companions to the back of the chamber and covered them with dirty blankets. With the deed done, all that remained was observing the struggles of the remaining survivors.

“What… is… that?” Despite his clear greed Silence could only relent. The artifact wasn’t budging.

“I can’t pry it off, boss.” His crony added.

“I know. Leave it be.” The man nodded, before whispering to himself. “In the worst-case scenario, I’ll just cut his head off and present it to the mages this way…” A dangerous flame flickered in his eyes.

“Do you have any idea why we can’t remove his helmet?” Mudan asked.

The lanky man frowned. “Do you think I am some freaking walking library? I don’t have an answer to every question you can ask!”

“Buuuuuut?”

“Argh! Fine!” After taking a deep breath, the criminal continued. “I once heard about the weapons and armor which chose their master. That old crone talked about compatibility, character traits, and similar things. Most of the other oldies just laughed it up as plain old luck, the early bird gets the worm, and so on.”

“Are you suggesting it's one of these legendary artifacts?”

“I don’t know! We are talking about legends! It could be true, or it could be not! Who am I to judge?” Knut stood up, pacing from one wall to another. “It’s not really important. What we need to know is what are its capabilities. Besides monstrous durability, of course.”

“Big Jon, do you feel any different, now that you’re wearing this thing?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am a little… hungry.” He answered calmly.

“I doubt that’s the extent of the artifact’s power. Hmmm…”

“Hungry…”

“Then just munch on a jerky or something and let me think.” A few more minutes passed in silence. “No. I don’t have enough information. Let’s just focus on the present. The only thing we need to do right now is to beat the boss and then return safely to the surface.”

“We’re not getting the dagger, then?” Mudan asked.

“Hell no. Did you see how strong that monster was, as soon as it reoriented itself? With only a freaking helmet artifact? A defensive one?” He spat on the ground. “Do you really want to face one with an actual weapon?” Knut shook his head in thought. “Remember, that the boss will be armed with a copy of whatever item these rooms contain. And there are only five of us left.” He glanced at the Family members and Big Jon. “Not to mention we’re not in the best condition.”

“So for now our aim is to just survive, right?”

“Yes. From a grand plan to this… we sure have fallen on bad times, eh friend?”

“Tell me more.” A wry smile appeared on Mudan’s face.

“How long are we going to rest?” Silence asked in a grumpy tone. “The sooner we deal with the boss, the sooner we leave this place.” His gaze turned distant. “I for one would sacrifice much for a chance to return to a normal life.”

“What is a normal life to a criminal?” Snorted Knut.

“Certainly not spelunking in these Goddess-forgotten wastes.” The Family’s leader shot back.

“Let us go then. We will only grow weaker as time passes.”

“I used most of my bandages.” Added Mudan. His tone grew heavier. “Big Jon’s wounds won’t close. The bleeding is not stopping no matter what I do.”

“I feel fine.” Grumbled the giant. “Just a little bit… hungry.”

“Eat jerky, then!”

“There is no more left, though…”

“What? I thought we had a full bag?”

“We had.”

“Did you eat every single piece?”

“I-I was hungry…”

“Are you retarded! Why did you do that? We will die from starvation!”

“I-I’m sorry…”

A loud sigh escaped Knut’s mouth, as he waved his hand dismissively. “It really doesn’t matter. This battle should be our last. Just… remember to not wear this copy of the artifact, all right?” His expression tensed. “I am sure that both the mages and our not-noble ruler would be damn interested in any magical item we manage to scrounge from the dungeon.”

“This is our only way out.” Mumbled Mudan. “We cannot fail.”

“Mhm.”

“Y-yes.”

“True. Let’s do our best.” The rest of the team looked. “What?” Silence scoffed. “My will to live is as strong as yours.”

Knut stared at him for a long while, before shrugging and then striding forward. He pushed a button without hesitation. The effect was immediate. The massive door lit up, and with a low rumble, something inside started to stir, slowly pushing back two slabs of rock.

Like before a giant Golem appeared from the entrance, similar, yet different from the humans' earlier opponent. Its skeletal structure was covered with stone, earth, dead flesh, and pieces of mismatched armor. On its head rested a copy of the Helmet. A blunt sword rested on its shoulder, while the air around it was filled with black gas - a visible effect of the curse. A small yellow orb pulsated on its chest, the weak point that the Trial forced on my creations.

“Oh fuck.”

“It’s a boss, alright.” Mudan swallowed nervously.

“Let’s try a tested strategy. I’ll try to get its attention, while the rest of you will try to damage its core!” Knut was already giving out orders, his eyes trained on the slowly incoming opponent.

“It seems slower but also stronger than the earlier guy.”

“Not to mention that big fucking sword…”

“Remain calm! As long as we knock the orb out it should die like the other one!”

“Yea---! What the hell!”

Ignoring the commotion (and his wounded leg) Big Jon started sprinting towards the Golem, his form surprisingly agile.

“What are you doing? You fuckin’ stupid toooool!”

“Stoooooop!”

Running like a man possessed he quickly managed to get past his comrades. I was expecting that he was being motivated by hatred or vengeance… yet his red eyes burned with much simpler desire.

“Meat! Meat!” He chanted under his nose, coming closer and closer to the stoic Golem.

A moment later a loud *smack* echoed in the chamber as he was sent back tumbling. A few seconds later he stopped moving, sprawled on the ground like a broken doll, large amounts of blood spilling into his surroundings. His chest had been dented, showing pieces of muscles, white bones, and even internal organs.

“Big Jooooon!”

“Damn it!”

“With a wound like that he is already dead…”

“Focus on the present! We need to take this monster down!”

Their reactions showed how numb the invaders felt. They quickly ignored their dying companion, and instead spread out trying to confuse my minion. I grinned. The same tactic wasn’t going to work twice.

[Focus on the black-clothed human. The smaller one.] I ordered my Cursed Golem. Or Bile-cursed Golem as my [Analyze] called it. Its mind seemed quicker than its lesser brethren but the difference wasn’t that big.

My tactic this time was different. I aimed for slowly whittling their power before going in for the kill. I didn’t have much choice in this matter. Knut was much too nimble to eliminate quickly, Mudan was a non-entity in this fight, Big Jon was already out, Silence was another target on my list and it was his subordinate that looked the most tired and haggard. Not to mention his lack of skill.

This process of elimination left me with the first candidate to be assaulted.

The eyes of the invaders widened as my minion started swinging its sword in a single direction, slowly cornering the black-clothed man.

“Boss, help me!”

“It’s too fast!”

“Dodge!”

“Raaaaaaa!”

“I don’t want to dieeeee!”

The chaotic battlefield only grew more confusing as Knut tried to climb the Golem’s back, in a futile attempt to get a stab at its core. Silence and Mudan courageously pestered the monster, their attacks barely scratching its armor.

Silence’s minion tried to run away, but with the Trial’s limited space there wasn’t much he could do. Instead, he tried to avoid the falling blade, each attack draining his stamina.

In the end, he slowed down enough that the blunted piece of iron caved his shoulder in. It sent him reeling, blood, and urine mixing on the ground.

The man couldn’t even speak from the pain, his mouth opened in a noiseless scream.

As he gasped for air gazing at the looming death something happened.

Someone happened.

“MEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!”

Big Jon sailed through the air, weaponless, with only animalistic hunger visible in his eyes. He collided with my minion, sending it tumbling. The momentum threw Knut away, yet he somehow managed to land safely. Silence’s minion wasn’t so lucky as the monster’s large feet smashed one of his legs to a pulp.

“Gyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

“MEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!”

Two screams constantly tore at the air.

The battle continued.