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Chapter 5 - Thoughts Not My Own

Chapter 5 - Thoughts Not My Own

The air was heavy with the stench of blood, a reminder of Ravenshaw's sad end. His lifeless form, crumpled and abandoned, was a haunting image forever etched into my memory. The silence that filled the hidden chamber was thick with unspoken promises, echoing with the weight of my vow to Aldrich.

My heart pounded against my ribcage, each beat a resonating echo of the solemn pledge I had made. Aldrich's name now rested on my shoulders, a burden as heavy as the sword I had inherited from him.

Summoning my Cosmic Lore skill, I sacrificed a portion of my sanity to unveil the true nature of the broken sword. Its information, once obscured, now lay bare before me.

NAME: RAVENSHAW’S BROKEN GREATSWORD

Weapon Type: Greatsword

Rank: Forsaken Relic

Attributes:

* Damage: 7

* Attack Speed: Medium

* Range: Medium to Long

* Durability: Severely Damaged

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Special Abilities:

* Residue of Divinity (Active): Even in its broken state, this sword retains echoes of its former divine might. Each time the wielder swings the blade, the wielder can will it to unleash holy energy that deals damage to enemies that come in contact with its blade. However, due to the blade's weakened state, the wielder's stamina is also drained with each use.

* Aldrich's Final Stand (Active): Tapping into the residual will of Aldrich Percival Ravenshaw, the wielder can temporarily bolster their strength and resilience, fighting with the desperation of one facing their end. This taxing ability exhausts the wielder greatly, leaving them vulnerable after use.

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Inherent Weakness: Time-Worn Marks: This relic, having endured countless battles and prolonged stay on the 99th floor, is severely weakened. Its abilities, while still potent, come with great strain to the wielder. The relic may also fracture further under intense duress, reducing its overall effectiveness.

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Final Echo:

"In the heat of countless battles, this holy blade was my savior. As the tides of war crashed upon me, it was my steadfast lighthouse. Now, as I stand on the precipice of oblivion, my trusty blade lies broken, much like my body. Yet, in its fragments, I see reflections of my resolve. My journey ends here, but let my will carry you forward. Each swing will drain your vitality, but in exchange, it shall unleash a tempest of divine wrath. My final thoughts echo through this relic. To the future bearer, heed my words: this blade, while offering a glimmer of hope, demands a heavy toll. With each strike, it will demand a piece of your vigor. Wield it with wisdom, or face your inevitable downfall..."

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[Warning: This greatsword is a shadow of its former self—it is a testament to the relentless struggle of a valiant warrior. Those brave enough to wield it must balance the line between courage and exhaustion, for Ravenshaw's Broken Holy Relic has no mercy for the weak.]

The broken sword felt heavy in my grasp, its weight a stark reminder of the challenge that lay ahead. Its edges were dull, and its size was more akin to a wide short dagger than a great sword. Yet, it was still a formidable weapon.

Clenching Aldrich's splintered blade, the hilt bit into my palm, a tangible affirmation of the road ahead.

As I ventured through the entrance back into the monster's lair, the sounds of crunching bones filled the air. It was finishing off the remnants of its last meal - a chilling memory from my previous intrusion.

Invoking the Cosmic Lore skill once more, I saw my sanity ebbing away, boosting my intelligence and providing a crystal clear image of the monster before me thanks to Madness Insight.

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Name: The Shadowmaw Nightmare

Monster Type: Malignant

Level: 50

Threat: High

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Attributes:

* Strength 40

* Agility 35

* Toughness 30

* Perception 30

* Resilience 50

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Behavioral Traits:

* The Shadowmaw Nightmare possesses a deeply sadistic disposition. Its wide grin seems to denote a perverse delight in the suffering and terror of its victims.

* Despite its substantial strength and agility, the Nightmare often prefers a psychological assault, using its terrifying appearance to instill dread in its victims before launching a physical attack unless one disturbing its meal time, causing it to be aggressive.

* The Nightmare's terrifying presence is further accentuated by its incredible resilience, allowing it to endure injuries that would incapacitate less tenacious creatures.

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Skills:

* Fear Inducing Grin: The Shadowmaw Nightmare can paralyze its victims with fear through its terrifying smile.

* Shadow Camouflage: This ability allows the Nightmare to meld into the shadows, becoming virtually undetectable in the dark.

* Maw of Agony: The Nightmare's deadly teeth can pierce even the toughest armor, causing significant injuries.

* Rapid Regeneration: The creature can heal itself quickly, recovering from injuries at an impressive rate.

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Inherent Weaknesses:

* Light Vulnerability: The Shadowmaw Nightmare is highly susceptible to bright light, which can momentarily disorient it and slow its regeneration.

* Fear Dependence: The creature thrives on the fear of its victims. Opponents who can resist fear can somewhat neutralize its Fear Inducing Grin ability.

* Sadistic Delight: The Nightmare tends to toy with its victims, often prolonging their fear. This habit could provide openings for a clever adversary.

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The monster's profile unfurled before me, a chilling tableau of sinister attributes, unnerving behavioral traits, and formidable skills. The revelation of its weaknesses was a startling surprise, leaving me momentarily breathless. Yet, with the temporary intelligence boost from Cosmic Lore, I processed these grisly details with an uncanny efficiency. Insights coalesced into a battle strategy against the monstrous adversary lurking in the shadows. My path through this nightmarish level was becoming clearer.

A sense of urgency hung in the air, a guillotine's blade underscoring the need to act before the monster finished its grim meal. I clenched the hilt of the once mighty blade, feeling an unexpected surge of confidence. My Dual Identity - The Forgotten Hero seemed to offer more than just echoes of a bygone hero's abilities. Despite the monster’s superior level, I felt an inexplicable sense of assurance.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

A strategy began to form. The Nightmare's vulnerability to light was a significant advantage. The broken sword I held, despite its diminished state, still held echoes of divine might. If I could channel that energy into a radiant burst, it could disorient the Nightmare, providing me with a crucial opening. The creature's sadistic delight in toying with its victims could be its downfall. If I could endure its onslaught, I might be able to exploit an opening in its defenses. I had to be patient, to wait for the right moment to strike.

I took a deep breath, pushing down the fear that threatened to bubble up. With a final glance at the monster, I launched myself into action. I had to strike first, to seize the initiative. I had to turn this into a physical battle, not a psychological one. My sanity was already on the brink, and I couldn't afford to let the Nightmare push me over the edge.

As I charged, the Nightmare turned its face towards me, a grotesque smile adorning its face, flesh hanging from its mouth. It charged at me with a speed that belied its size.

[Warning: Sanity has been reduced by 1]

Despite my fear and dwindling sanity, I kept charging. Was it the influence of the Dual Identity, making me brave enough to face my fear, or was I simply insane? Either way, I didn't stop.

As I swung the sword, intending to unleash Residue of Divinity, a thought echoed in my mind, sounding like my own voice, yet the tone was different. ‘Not Yet… It is not a good time for me to reveal that skill.’ This unexpected thought caused me to hesitate, giving the Nightmare enough time to close the distance and attack with its claw.

Thanks to my Madness Insight, I was able to see and dodged its attack just in time. I attempted to retreat back to the hidden room, but the Nightmare's claws struck the stone wall behind me, breaking the slab of stone that I used to get in.

To avoid trapping myself in the corner, I scraped its underbelly with the point of the broken sword and took off to gain distance. This time, the sword pierced through the tough scales, causing a slight wound that closed soon after.

The Nightmare was enraged, its grin widening with anger. A thought echoed in my mind, ‘Good… I barely managed to slip by, I just need to wait for the timing before I strike… One clean cut before it is done.’ Was this my thinking? I could have just struck it while it was busy eating and ended this but why did I doubt myself?

In the next moment, the Shadowmaw Nightmare lunged at me, its deadly claws slashing through the air with a speed that belied its size. I barely managed to dodge, my heart pounding in my chest as I felt the wind from its swipe brush past me.

My sanity was teetering on the edge, the dark thoughts in the corners of my mind, but I couldn't afford to succumb to madness.

Not now.

Suddenly, a thought echoed in my mind, calm and confident amidst the chaos. It was my own voice, yet it was different, more assured. It was as if Aldrich Ravenshaw was guiding me through the madness through my thought.

"Patience...look around you," I thought to myself.

I heeded the thought, keeping my distance from the Nightmare, my eyes darting around the environment. The cavern was filled with stalactites, sharp and menacing. An idea began to form in my mind.

"Wait for the right moment..." I reminded myself.

I watched as the Nightmare, enraged by my evasion, charged at me again. This time, I was ready. I sidestepped its attack, leading it towards the cluster of stalactites.

"Now, provoke it..." I thought, a plan forming in my mind.

I threw a small rock at the Nightmare, hitting it square in the eye. It roared in anger, its attention fully on me now. It charged again, faster this time.

Just as it was about to reach me, a thought flashed in my mind. "Now, move!"

With a swift roll, I dodged the Nightmare's charge. It was too fast to stop, its momentum carrying it forward, straight into the stalactites.

Caught off guard, the Nightmare roared in pain as the stalactites pierced its tough hide. It thrashed wildly, trying to free itself, but the stalactites held it fast.

The Nightmare's agonized roars echoed through the cavern, its body ensnared by the stalactites that pierced its hide. Its eyes, burning with pain and rage, locked onto mine.

"Get closed to it, ignore your fear." A voice echoed in my mind, steady and assured amidst the chaos. It was my voice, yet it was not. It was the voice of a hero, a strategist, a survivor.

I charged, the broken sword clenched tightly in my hand. The Nightmare, distracted by its predicament, failed to notice my approach until I was almost upon it. It attempted to swipe at me, but its movements were hindered by the stalactites.

The voice guided me, its tone unwavering amidst the tumult.

‘Will the sword to your command. Gather your thoughts into the blade.’

I focused on the broken sword in my hand, willing it to unleash its divine might. A radiant burst of energy erupted from the blade, illuminating the cavern with a blinding light. The Nightmare, highly susceptible to bright light, was momentarily disoriented, providing me with a crucial opening.

‘Swing fast and steady, and unleash the Residue of Divinity before it breaks free.’ The voice urged.

With a swift movement, I swung the sword imbued with holy light at the Nightmare, the blade cutting through the air with a deadly precision. The Nightmare, caught off guard, had no time to react. The blade struck true, cutting into the Nightmare's tough hide. The Nightmare roared in pain, its body convulsing violently as it struggled against the stalactites.

But it wasn't enough. The Nightmare was resilient, its wounds healing. I needed to finish this quickly, before my sanity was completely depleted. The blade shined once again as I prepared another strike.

"Use Harbinger's Fury..." The voice in my head suggested, calm amidst the chaos.

A moment of hesitation gripped me. Harbinger's Fury, the skill that could turn the tide of this battle, was a double-edged sword. It promised power, but at the cost of my sanity. The brink of madness loomed ominously close, yet the urgency of the situation left me with no other choice, but to trust a thought that was not my own.

Drawing a deep breath, I felt the energy within me stir, responding to my call. It surged, a torrent of raw power, flowing into the broken sword I held. The blade began to pulse, a heartbeat of dark energy that sent ripples through the air around it. The power was palpable, a crackling aura that seemed to distort the very air it touched.

With a swift, decisive motion, I swung the sword at the Nightmare. The energy within the blade erupted, a cataclysmic wave of destructive force that tore through the air towards the Nightmare.

The Nightmare's roar echoed through the cavern as the wave of energy slammed into it. Its body convulsed, a puppet writhing in the grip of unseen strings. It fought against the stalactites that held it, but the onslaught of Harbinger's Fury was relentless.

The Nightmare's struggles grew weaker, its roars fading into pitiful whimpers. The energy from Harbinger's Fury was a storm it could not weather. With a final, feeble roar, the Nightmare's body went limp, collapsing under the weight of its defeat.

The silence that followed was deafening. The echoes of the Nightmare's final roar faded into nothingness, leaving only the sound of my ragged breathing. The broken sword in my hand was still pulsing with residual energy, a testament to the power I had just unleashed.

I stood there, panting, my body trembling from the exertion. The adrenaline that had fueled my fight was ebbing away, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion. I could feel the toll the short battle had taken on me, both physically and mentally. My sanity was a threadbare tapestry, frayed and worn from the strain of wielding such potent skills.

The Residue of Divinity and Harbinger's Fury had been instrumental in my victory, but they had exacted a heavy price.

I stumbled, my legs buckling under me. I fell to my knees, the cold stone of the cavern floor biting into my skin. The broken sword slipped from my grasp, clattering onto the stone beside me. I could barely keep my eyes open, fatigue pulling me towards unconsciousness.

But I wasn't done yet. There was one more thing I needed to do. With a final surge of will, I forced the words out, my voice echoing in the cavern. "Atash-Na...N'gha...Ya...N'ghft."

I wasn’t sure it did anything, but I prayed I don’t wake up mad.

As the edges of my vision blurred, a voice reverberated through the cavern, its tone laced with intrigue. "An unexpected sight indeed," it murmured. The voice seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once, its origin as elusive as the speaker's identity.

Was it a figment of my fractured psyche, or a genuine presence in the cavern? I lacked the strength to unravel this final mystery. The voice, real or imagined, was the last sensory impression I registered before the comforting embrace of unconsciousness took hold.