*Ten hours later.*
**The Statue of the Gnome**
*Oluvert, the Chewing Gnome*
Oluvert wasn’t just angry; he was absolutely livid. For more than twelve hours—half a day!—he had been observing the outrageously insolent human! Dmitry D'Vulkanov, a low-tier weakling, a standard elimination target, had been surviving in the catacombs for over a week now, including today! And throughout all this time, he had not once shown fear toward him, the *Chewing Gnome?!*
Oluvert detested his second name, but he wasn’t one to fight against his nature, so he begrudgingly accepted his rather unimpressive gnome-like image. After all, no matter his appearance or name, he took immense pride in his power, as any deity would.
He was dubbed the Chewing Gnome because he was an energy devourer—a dark, shapeless, terrifying mass resembling molten rubber that drove its victims insane and drained them dry. A gnome-like entity, frightening in its unassuming grotesqueness.
Oluvert’s gift, granted to Marcus, was a perfect reflection of his essence, and the Chewing Gnome was especially proud of that. He knew he was still relatively weak but full of potential for growth. His first gift was a vital ability, highly beneficial to his development.
Yet now, as if mocking his very existence and poking at all the insecurities of a young deity, some kid was holding on, refusing to yield even a sliver of energy. The brat could have easily given up—admitted defeat, shown genuine emotion—and it would have cost him nothing. But no! Vulkanov writhed in pain, suffering visibly, yet continued to endure.
Oluvert had to admit Marcus was doing his best. His follower was pushing himself to the limit, straining to be useful to his patron, and the toll was showing. If this continued much longer, Oluvert might even have to heal him himself. Experienced warriors were too valuable to waste, especially when followers were already in short supply. Oluvert wasn’t yet in a position to casually discard such assets.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“Alright, finish off this batch of crystals, and that’s enough for today!” the Chewing Gnome finally relented, begrudgingly accepting that breaking this defiant brat wouldn’t happen in one go. But there was no way he’d let that little bastard die now—not when this had become a matter of principle.
---
*Same location, same time.*
**The Volcano**
“That gnome isn’t pulling any punches, huh,” Dima let out a weary chuckle. “How long has it been now?”
“Nearly fifteen hours,” I replied, smirking. “Gotta admit, that lunatic is persistent.”
I should have been pleased. I had drained as much energy in one go as I could from an entire company of unawakened soldiers. But there was no joy in this. Dima was seriously struggling, and I could feel it clearly. Not that I was much better off—my brain was practically boiling from the strain. Sure, cursed energy could bolster the body and push past certain limits, but even I had my breaking point, and I was nearing it.
I was utterly exhausted from faking reactions to non-existent pain. Warming up the mana channels throughout my body had also drained me, to say nothing of juggling several incredibly complex and critical processes simultaneously. But hey, anything for faster progress, right?
“Let there be light,” I muttered tiredly, laughing as I finally completed the work on my mana channels in my eyes. Magical sight was mine again, and I couldn’t be happier.
I immediately spent a sliver of cursed energy to enhance my vision, peering through the illusion that had long bored me. My sight wasn’t perfect—like looking through a lens at -10 diopters or worse—but it was a step up from total magical blindness.
At the very least, I could now see Marcus’s glowing cores clearly—five of them, relatively large compared to mine. I had no idea how humans were generally faring these days, but one thing was clear: I couldn’t take this warrior head-on. Even now, when I was halfway to Apprentice-level power, he outclassed me.
Power levels within a tier were a fuzzy concept at best. Even among Apprentices, I’d be at the very bottom unless I used cursed energy. And that didn’t account for Marcus’s stockpile of charged crystals—dozens of them, giving him no shortage of energy.
“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me…” I choked out as I noticed a particular crystal—the one I had charged myself, effectively turning it into a sizable bomb.
Not my problem, right?
“What’s wrong?” Dima flinched. I shared the memory fragment with him.
“...Are you serious?!” he swore.
“Yeah, things are about to heat up,” I muttered, quickly calculating our next steps. “We might survive the first detonation, but once the remaining crystals react, we’ll be smeared across the walls.”
“What do we do?!” Dima’s voice rose in panic. “Vulkan!”
“Dima, quiet!” I barked. “You’ve recovered enough—trust me, I’d know. You’re going to have to take the reins now.”
“And you?!”
“...I’ll try to wrest control from that lunatic.”