I watched closely as the golem gently placed the trembling human on the ground.

The soft scrape of stone on stone echoed in the stillness of the dungeon.

Krothe came forward, his usual casual demeanor replaced by an air of careful interest.

As he spoke to me about the situation, I could feel the weight of the decision ahead.

But my gaze remained locked on the man—Samuel.

His eyes darted nervously around the room, avoiding mine, and his body shook as though caught in a storm, his hands fidgeting at his sides.

He couldn’t even meet my gaze.

I stepped closer, my boots clicking softly against the stone floor, breaking the tense silence.

I let the coldness in my voice seep through as I addressed him directly, my words measured and controlled.

"What is your name?" I asked, letting the question hang in the air.

He flinched slightly, his lips parting as if he were about to say something but hesitated.

After a pause, he stammered, the words barely audible. "Samuel… it's Samuel."

His voice trembled, thick with fear.

I could feel the palpable fear radiating from him, his unease curling around us like a fog.

His eyes flickered toward the ground, unable to hold my gaze.

I didn’t break eye contact as I stepped closer.

My presence, like the weight of the dungeon itself, seemed to push him further into submission.

"So Samuel, are you saying the truth? That you have a way which can allow us to get out of this dungeon?"

His body tensed even more at my question, as if each word was a judgment he feared.

His breath hitched, and a bead of sweat gathered on his forehead.

"Yes... I am speaking the truth," he said quickly, almost pleading.

He still wouldn’t meet my eyes, his voice faltering with each word.

The way his hands clutched the edges of his cloak, the subtle shake in his knees—it was obvious he was terrified.

I leaned forward, my eyes narrowing. "Are you sure? Because I hate lies."

The words were deliberate, heavy.

I watched as his face paled at the mention of lies, his eyes wide with an intensity that seemed to flicker between fear and desperation.

He let out a shaky breath and nodded vigorously.

"Our guild has found an item... which can allow you to do so. Please believe me," he begged, his voice barely above a whisper.

I considered his words carefully, my mind working quickly through the implications of his statement.

"What is the name of your guild?" I asked, my tone flat but piercing.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

His response was almost immediate, though the fear in his voice was still evident. "It’s Demonic Guild."

I let that sit for a moment, my gaze unblinking.

The name of his guild rang through my mind—Demonic Guild.

It was a name I had read in the darker diaries od some hunters, a guild with its own reputation.

And I couldn’t decide whether that made me more cautious or intrigued.

I folded my arms across my chest, letting the silence stretch.

Then, I spoke again, my voice cold and hard as stone.

"Okay. Let’s say your guild has indeed found such an item. Then still, why should I trust you?"

He was silent for a moment, perhaps unsure of how to answer, but desperation finally drove him to speak again.

"How about we form a mana pact?" he said, almost rushing the words out in a frantic burst.

He quickly pulled a small, blue-colored piece of paper from his cloak, his fingers trembling as he held it out to me.

Before I could respond, he pressed a finger to his palm, drawing a drop of blood from his skin.

The blood fell onto the paper, and the paper began to glow faintly, a soft blue light emanating from the drop like a seal being activated.

"I will follow your orders," Samuel continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "If not... I will die. My life would be in your hands. So please, trust me."

He handed the paper to me, his hands shaking, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and pleading.

It was clear that this act was the last of his bargaining chips, and in that moment, his entire fate lay in my hands.

I took the paper from him, feeling the coolness of it in my grasp.

For a moment, I simply held it, the weight of his promise hanging in the air between us.

My fingers brushed over the paper, the ink still glowing faintly with the power of his blood.

But I didn’t respond right away.

I let the silence grow, the tension thick and heavy, before speaking again.

"What would I do with your life?" I asked, my voice dark and cold, though I knew the answer was already within me.

Samuel froze, his breath catching in his throat at my words.

His eyes flickered with confusion, as if he couldn’t understand my meaning, as though he hadn't expected such a response.

"What? What do you mean?" he stammered, his words breaking apart in his panic.

"Bring your guild master here," I said, my voice unwavering, the weight of authority slipping effortlessly into my words. "I would like to discuss things with him."

The shock was evident on Samuel’s face as his eyes widened in disbelief. "What?"

I stepped closer to him, making sure he felt the full weight of my presence.

"Go quickly," I ordered, my voice like steel. "Your life is in my hands."

His face twisted in a mix of confusion and fear, but without another word, he scrambled to his feet and bolted toward the exit, his body stiff with tension, his every movement sharp with urgency.

I watched him leave, a cold smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

---

After Samuel scurried off like a frightened rabbit, the dungeon slowly returned to its usual rhythm.

The golems resumed their work, their heavy, deliberate movements echoing through the vast chamber.

Krothe remained perched on a jagged stone, his sharp eyes narrowing thoughtfully as he watched me.

I took a deep breath, steadying my thoughts.

My focus shifted to the small stone in my hand, its rough surface cool against my palm.

The events of the day still lingered in my mind, but I had something more pressing to test.

"Kaw! Do you think he’s speaking the truth?" Krothe’s voice broke the silence, his tone a mixture of curiosity and doubt.

I didn’t look at him, keeping my attention on the stone.

"Yes, I think so," I replied calmly. "Someone desperate for their life won’t lie, not when they know the consequences."

"Hmm… but is it okay to trust them?" Krothe tilted his head, his feathers ruffling as if unsettled.

A faint smile tugged at my lips.

"Well, that’s what we’re going to find out," I said.

The stone in my hand began to glow faintly as I injected a pulse of green energy into it.

I threw it forward, watching as it skidded across the floor and… nothing.

The energy fizzled out, leaving the stone transformed into a dull piece of steel.

"Kaw! What are you trying to do?" Krothe asked, hopping closer, his sharp talons clicking against the ground.

"I’m trying to create an attack," I replied, picking up another stone.

The memories—the flashes—had been vivid, almost overwhelming.

They were more than just dreams.

They were inspiration, fragments of knowledge guiding me toward something greater.

I had already used these visions to create new types of golems, including multi-core ones capable of astounding coordination.

But the most remarkable revelation was the being from the dream itself—the way he fought, the sheer elegance and power of his abilities. One such ability stood out to me: creating energy blasts.

"The theory is simple," I began, mostly speaking to myself as I injected energy into the next stone.

"When any matter undergoes transformation, it becomes unstable at a critical point. If the energy is interrupted or concentrated at that moment of instability, the material will explode."

I threw the stone, and again, nothing happened.

Frustration prickled at the edges of my thoughts, but I wouldn’t let it deter me.

"The challenge," I continued, "is identifying that critical point, which varies for different materials."

Krothe tilted his head further, his eyes gleaming with interest. "Kaw! And you’re starting with stones?"

I nodded, my fingers curling around another small rock. "Stones are simple. If I can master this with one material, I can replicate it with others."

Once more, I channeled my energy into the stone, feeling the subtle resistance as the material began to shift.

I threw it, and yet again, it failed.

The stone bounced harmlessly against the ground before rolling to a stop.

I clenched my jaw, picking up another stone.

The process repeated.

Inject energy. Throw. Fail.

Each attempt brought a flicker of frustration, but I forced myself to stay calm.

I could feel Krothe watching me, his gaze a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

"Kaw! Perhaps this isn’t something you can replicate," he said after another failed attempt, his tone carrying a teasing edge.

I didn’t answer him.

Instead, I closed my eyes for a moment, steadying my breathing.

The flashes from my dream resurfaced—the destructive power, the precision, the control.

It wasn’t impossible. I had seen it.

I knew it could be done.

With renewed determination, I picked up another stone.

This time, I paid closer attention to the flow of energy, the way it pulsed and interacted with the material.

I threw the stone again, and—

Boom!

The sound echoed through the chamber, a sharp, deafening crack that rattled the walls.

The stone exploded mid-air, sending a small shockwave rippling outward.

Fragments of the stone scattered harmlessly to the ground, leaving behind a faint shimmer of residual energy.

Krothe’s feathers puffed up in surprise, and he let out an impressed squawk.

"Kaw! You did it!"

A slow smile spread across my face as I straightened.

The rush of accomplishment coursed through me, but it was more than that—it was a confirmation.

The flashes weren’t just random visions.

At least, I can learn something from them.