I am Shadow, 9 arcs old. I am a metal golem imbued with a copy of Ren Drakemore’s soul, and I am a D-rank adventurer living in the city of Stonebrook.

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The walls of the cave vibrate as a flood of partially metal-clad goblins pour down the tunnel from both ahead and behind us. For some reason, my threat detection enchantment didn’t pick up on them until they rounded the corners from adjacent tunnels, as if the walls had somehow blocked my perception.

A solid mass of green flesh and crude metal armor rushes toward us, brandishing swords, and spears. Their deafening, guttural roars merge with the clattering of feet on stone, creating an overwhelming cacophony that reverberates through the cavern.

My mind races. Time slows.

Fire? No. An inferno would burn away the oxygen in this enclosed space, suffocating Maribel—and I wouldn’t be able to control the flames well enough to avoid harming her.

Earth? If I manipulated the tunnel walls, I’d risk a cave-in, trapping us or crushing any potential prisoners in the process.

Water? I’d need an overwhelming surge to kill this many at once, and drowning Maribel in the process isn’t an option.

That leaves barriers.

I cast translucent barriers on both sides of Maribel, sealing off the tunnel in both directions. Goblins at the front slam into the invisible wall, their snarls turning to confused shrieks as they claw and beat against it. The impact sends a heavy drain through my mana reserves, but it holds, for now.

Maribel sheathes one of her daggers, pulling two small glass vials from her belt. Inside, dark purple liquid sloshes—the telltale color of her potent Nightshade venom.

I watch as she holds them steady in her palm, her expression focused, her breathing measured. She closes her eyes for a fraction of a second, then pours unstable, malformed mana into the vials.

What is she planning?

The goblins continue to slam into my barrier, their sheer numbers pressing against it like a rising tide. The drain on my mana is significant. I need to act fast.

The vials in Maribel’s hand glow an intense white, overcharged with unstable mana.

“What are you—” I start, but before I can finish, she flicks her wrists, opening two small portals in front of her and dropping the vials inside.

A fraction of a second later, the vials reappear outside my barriers, though I can’t see them beyond the wall of goblins. However, the radiant glow floods the tunnel, light seeping through the gaps between the goblins hacking at my barrier with their weapons. The glowing orbs descend rapidly, falling from the ceiling to about waist height before—

BOOM!

Twin explosions detonate on either side of us, bright flashes momentarily banishing the darkness. Then, silence—followed by a choking, gurgling sound.

Maribel used an unstable spatial spell to misfire an explosion, vaporizing the Nightshade venom into the air, turning the tunnel into a death trap.

She made the air outside my barrier poisonous.

The goblins hesitate only briefly before their screams start. Roars of agony fill the tunnels as many collapse, choking and spitting up blood. Some double down, attacking the barrier with renewed desperation despite their failing bodies.

For a moment, I consider waiting them out. My mana reserves are dwindling, but if they succumb to the poison first, I won’t need to fight at all.

CRACK!

My barrier shudders violently. More than it should against crude steel weapons.

I track the source—spears. Unlike the rusted swords, these weapons strike harder, causing the barrier to ripple with each impact. The spearheads have a faint blue tint, the metal humming with a dim, unnatural glow.

What are those made of?

SHINK!

A spear pierces straight through my barrier, driving clean through my chest. The impact doesn’t unbalance me, but the blade tears through my metal breastplate, embedding itself ten centimeters deep into my body.

I attempt to reinforce the barrier, but—

SHINK!

Another spear strikes from behind, slamming into the back of my left knee. A sharp jolt of force sends my heavy frame crashing down onto one knee.

Maribel narrows her eyes, her hands moving with terrifying precision as she forms a small, round portal just in front of her. Without hesitation, she stabs downward, her long, spike-like dagger vanishing into the swirling void.

A sickening CRACK.

Outside the barrier, the blade emerges above a goblin’s head, driving cleanly into its skull. Just as quickly, she withdraws the dagger, shifts the exit portal, and stabs again.

CRACK! SQUELCH!

Brain matter and blood sprays against the tunnel walls.

Over and over, she repeats the motion, each strike finding a new target. Goblins collapse, one after another, their twisted expressions frozen in agony. Blood splatters on the walls, the floor, and the faces of those still clawing at my failing barrier.

I reach for the spear embedded in my chest, gripping the shaft and yanking it free with a metallic shrrk. I toss it aside, already moving to remove the one lodged in my knee—

SHINK!

Another spear pierces clean through my hip.

SHINK!

A second one strikes my neck, running me straight into the wall, pinning me there.

My barrier flickers.

Maribel keeps going, sweat mixing with the blood streaking down her face. Her arms blur as she shifts her portal, stabbing again and again with brutal efficiency. Crimson mist coats her upper body as she continues slaughtering one goblin after another.

Two spears thrust at her in rapid succession. She dodges both with expert agility. but I can see She is slowing down. The portals are draining her mana quickly. She can’t keep this up. At this rate she will bottom out her mana and pass out soon.

And my barriers,

They’re going to fail.

If they do, Maribel will die.

I won’t let that happen.

With everything I have left, I drop both barriers and focus my remaining mana into a single, much smaller shield, one that envelops only her.

The goblins surge forward instantly, filling the space around me like a tide of filthy green flesh. I hold back just enough mana to keep my enchantments running for ten more minutes.

Ten minutes left to live.

That should be enough time for the poison to do its job.

The rest of my mana is devoted to the only thing that matters.

Keeping Maribel alive.

It’s fine if I die.

I might even welcome it.

But she,

She means everything to me.

The last thing I see is Maribel, frozen in shock and horror as my barrier materializing around her. Then, my vision is obscured by the flood of angry green bodies swarming me.

Blades and claws batter me from all sides. My vision flickers and goes black as I shut down all the parts of my enchantment not required to maintain my barrier around Maribel.

A scream cuts through the chaos, just before the silence takes me.

"Shadow!"

Then, nothing.

No sound. No light. Nothing.

I exist only in awareness, tethered to my fading mana reserves. My body registers nothing, but I know the barrier is still holding. I can feel the drain, the slow, steady pull of my life being spent second by second.

Six minutes remaining.

The pressure on my mana lessens. The goblins must be dying. The poison is working.

But I can’t tell how many are left.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

I wonder what will happen when I shut down for good. When my enchantment dies, and I return to Ren.

Will I still be me? Or will I be him? Or will he be him and I will be gone?

I’ve existed for nine arcs apart from him. In that time, I’ve changed. I’ve become… something more.

Five minutes remaining.

I’m not scared, part of me looks forward to the end of the numb emptiness.

But my life isn’t completely empty. There is one thing in my “life” that is so important I would sacrifice everything to protect it.

My mind is filled with a series of memories of Maribel.

Perhaps the last things I will ever see.

The time we’ve spent together. The way she looks at me when she thinks I don’t notice. The way she trusts me completely. The way she—

I am suddenly beset by an intense urge to see her one last time.

I need to see her. I need to know she’s safe.

Four minutes remaining.

My barrier fails—not from an attack, but because there is no mana left to sustain it. The last remnants of energy return to me.

It’s just enough.

I reactivate my sight.

I have to see her.

At first, all I saw was blackness.

Oh. Right. The cave.

I activate Night Sight, and the world snaps into sharp clarity.

The tunnel is a massacre. More than a hundred goblin corpses lay strewn across the floor, their mangled bodies half-submerged in a thick layer of blood. Gore splatters the walls, dripping from the ceiling in sluggish rivulets.

But most of my view is obscured—by a tangled mass of golden hair, close, far too close. The head it belongs to is shaking, shoulders rising and falling in silent convulsions.

Maribel.

She’s alive! But what is she doing?

Relief floods through me, but confusion quickly follows. What is she doing?

I activate Sound Sensing, and suddenly, the silence is shattered by the raw, ragged sound of sobbing.

Maribel’s sobbing.

“No… you can’t!”

Her voice is broken, desperate.

“Please Shadow No!”

I realize then that my body is slumped against the wall, motionless. And Maribel—Maribel is straddling my legs, gripping my lifeless form in a fierce, trembling embrace.

“Don’t leave me!”

“Please be ok!”

Her forehead presses against my shoulder. Her whole body shakes.

“Please… no”

“What do I do?!

Her voice cracks.

“You can’t die! You said you can’t die!”

She grips me harder, as if she can anchor me to this world through sheer force of will.

“Tell me what to do, damn it!”

Her voice grows weaker as she slips into hopelessness.

Two minutes left.

I activate my Vocal Replication enchantment.

“Maribel… are you okay?”

My voice cuts through her sobs, and her head shoots up, her tear-streaked and blood splattered face just inches from mine.

Sniff.

“Shadow?!” she gasps, eyes wide with desperate hope, as if unsure whether she truly heard me.

“Yes, it’s me, but I don’t have much time left,” I say evenly. “Please, tell me you’re okay.”

Maribel ignores my question. “What do you mean, not much time?” she demands, panic creeping back into her voice. “Tell me what to do! How do I fix you?!”

One minute remaining.

“My mana is nearly empty.” I state the fact as calmly as I can. “When it runs out, my enchantment ends.”

“You just need mana?” Maribel says, her hands already digging frantically into her belt pouch.

“Yes, but it’s okay, Maribel. Don’t worry about me. You need to get out of here.”

“No! I’m not leaving you.” She doesn’t hesitate. Not even for a second.

I feel a sharp pang of regret. “Maribel, I’m sorry.” My voice is softer now. “Before I go, I want you to know—I lo—”

“Take this! Now!” she interrupts, shoving something toward me.

A small blue crystal, glowing faintly.

A mana crystal.

Ten seconds remaining.

No time to think. No time to argue.

I don’t know how or why she has one. But I know from Ren’s studies that mana crystals are rare and invaluable, capable of storing magic for later use.

I lean forward, pressing my metal forehead against the crystal she holds up. Using the last whisper of my energy, I cast the release spell.

A brilliant blue glow erupts around us, flooding the tunnel. The light pulses from every inch of my body, spilling around Maribel as she clings to me in a desperate embrace.

I feel a surge of mana that refills me to 110% of my starting charge.

“Did it work?” Maribel asks, still staring at where my eyes would be… if I had eyes.

I lift my right hand, flexing my fingers experimentally. Then, I take a moment to ensure all of my enchantments are fully restored.

“Yes. Thank you.” I say, looking back at her with genuine gratitude.

Maribel smiles, a wide, joyful smile of relief that looks almost comical on a face smeared in blood and gore. But then, to my confusion, her eyes begin to well up again. Without warning, she presses her face against my chest, fresh sobs wracking her body.

Why is me being okay a reason to cry?

“Don’t do that to me, Shadow!” she shouts, pounding her fist weakly against my chest in frustration.

Then she looks up at me, anger now mixed with her tears. “Don’t you ever try to sacrifice yourself like that again!”

“Why?” I ask, genuinely confused. “If I die, I can be replaced by a new copy of myself. But there is only one of you, Maribel.”

“I don’t care! I don’t want you to leave me alone!” she snaps, her voice raw.

“Maribel, I am replaceable. You are the one that’s important.” I try to explain logically.

“You’re important to me.” she says, her voice small and stubborn, her expression somewhere between a pout and genuine heartbreak.

I sigh, realizing that her fear of losing me is drowning out reason. No amount of logical explanation will convince her that my existence is less valuable than hers.

Her feelings of sadness had to have been so intense for it to have overpowered the effects of my lionhearts spell, or my spell is still not strong enough. It’s probably the latter. I need to work on that.

“Okay,” I relent. “I’m sorry.”

Maribel wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand, sniffing, before offering me both hands to help me stand. I hesitate, knowing that due to my weight, she won’t actually be able to support me. But I take her hands anyway, letting her feel like she’s helping as I rise carefully to my feet.

Once standing, I assess the damage.

Deep gashes mar my steel chest and neck. The joints in my right hip and left knee are weakened from repeated impacts. Scratches and dents litter my armor and limbs. My mask lies in shattered pieces on the blood-soaked ground, my cloak and clothes are in tatters.

Much like Maribel, I am completely drenched in goblin blood and gore.

What a mess.

Maribel steps back, watching as I take a careful step forward.

Or rather, I attempt to.

The moment my foot moves, my left knee gives out completely, sending me crashing face-first into the pile of goblin corpses.

"EEK!"

Maribel jumps back in alarm. "Shadow! Are you okay?!"

"Spectacular…" I grumble, prying my face from the now thoroughly pulverized backside of a goblin.

Slowly, I push myself upright, careful this time not to put too much weight on my bad knee.

"My joints are a bit damaged," I explain, wiping goblin entrails from my face and inspecting the wrecked knee joint. "Nothing I can’t fix."

"Oh. Good." Maribel still looks a little worried but watches as I place a hand over the damaged joint, using my magic to reshape the steel back into place.

Once the repair is done, I test it with a few cautious bends.

"Much better."

Then, I reach down, gathering the shattered remains of my mask, reshaping them with a quick spell before securing it back over my face.

"Alright. Let’s go."

Maribel follows as I begin climbing over the pile of bodies, but she still glances at me with concern. "You sure you’re okay?"

"Yeah. I’m good."

She snorts. "You still look pretty ruddied up."

"Have you seen yourself?" I shoot back.

For a moment, we both laugh—a dry, exhausted, almost hysterical kind of laughter. A shared acceptance of the absolute mess we’ve both become.

"By the way..." I say, remembering the burning question that had been nagging at me. "Did the poison gas not affect you?"

Maribel smirks. "Oh, it hurt pretty bad, actually."

I stiffen slightly. "Are you okay?"

She shrugs, but there's something darkly amused in her voice when she answers. "I was exposed to far less than the goblins… but I still had blood coming out everywhere."

"More than usual," she adds casually.

What the hell does that mean?

"But luckily," she continues, "I've built up a strong resistance to the venom I use."

I nod approvingly. "That’s smart. Pretty good chance of accidental exposure when you use venom as a weapon."

"Exactly," Maribel says, clearly pleased with herself. "And it also helps to be prepared."

She pats her belt. "Thanks to you, I had both potions of healing and curing."

As the tunnel finally opens up, our boots stepping onto blood-free stone, Maribel slows slightly.

"By the way…" she begins, voice quieter now. "I… you too."

She trails off.

I glance at her, tilting my head slightly, but she doesn’t elaborate.

Instead, she quickens her pace as if she had said nothing and we continue deeper into the unknown.

As we continue through the labyrinthine tunnels, we begin to grasp the scale and complexity of the place. What we thought was a simple goblin den turns out to be something far more intricate—a vast network of carefully carved chambers and interconnected rooms, structured with an intelligence that goblins do not possess.

We find living spaces—densely packed, but not crude like we’d expect from goblins. There are straw and leather-matted beds, stone and wooden furniture, metal tools, and even parchment tomes. These aren’t the chaotic filth pits of a goblin nest; these are the remains of a civilization.

Further in, we find expansive open areas, seemingly dedicated to farming moss, mushrooms, rare underground herbs that I can’t immediately identify. Maribel runs her fingers along a wall engraved with runic symbols, her expression thoughtful.

“They were using magic runes for water production, heating, and artificial sunlight,” she murmurs.

I nod, looking around at the precision of the setup. Whoever lived here knew exactly what they were doing.

As we explore deeper, we come across massive workshops—entire sections of the tunnels designated for woodworking, metal refining, and tool crafting. But the most striking discovery is a large-scale mithril refinery.

Stacks of half-processed ore sit in carefully labeled piles, mithril ingots gleaming faintly in their cooling trays. At the center of the cavern looms a great forge, now cold, but with clear signs that it had only recently been abandoned.

Maribel lets out a low whistle. “Whoever was here, they weren’t just living underground… they were thriving.”

Then we enter what was clearly an armory.

The room has been looted, but not completely. Racks of weapons and armor remain, many of them crafted from mithril, their polished edges reflecting the dim light. A treasure trove of deadly craftsmanship, far beyond goblin capability.

Maribel steps toward a weapons rack, running her fingers over a mithril breastplate, then glances toward me. “Well. That explains where the goblins got their hands on mithril gear.”

I scan the room, noting the sheer quantity of weapons. “There are far more weapons here than would be needed to arm the goblins we killed.”

Maribel crosses her arms. “Yeah, it’s pretty obvious now. This place wasn’t built by goblins.” She kicks over an empty weapons crate, noting the haphazard way things have been scavenged. “And whoever was here left in a hurry.”

I pick up one of the mithril spears, turning it over in my hands, analyzing the craftsmanship. It’s balanced, precise, made by skilled hands.

I look back at Maribel.

“This isn’t a cave,” I say.

Maribel arches an eyebrow. “What do you mean? There’s literally rock over our heads.” She gestures at the stone ceiling.

I hold up the mithril spear, my grip firm.

“They’re processing mithril ore, they’re making mithril weapons.” I glance around, taking in the evidence once more before turning back to her.

“This place isn’t JUST a cave, It's a mine.”

“Do you think dwarves were living here?” Maribel asks. “They live in mines, right?”

I shake my head. “I’ve never known any dwarves to survive on moss and mushrooms.”

Truthfully, I don’t know any dwarves. Except maybe Iris, but she might just be short.

…But Ren has read a lot about them.

“Dwarves build grander structures than this,” I continue as we exit the armory and move down the tunnel. “They also tend to use a lot more gold and gemstones in their construction.”

“Yeah,” Maribel muses, stepping carefully over a jagged rock. “And I doubt a bunch of goblins would be able to drive dwarves out of their own home.”

“Exactly,” I nod. “Based on the living quarters and the way this place is set up, whatever lived here was much smaller and weaker than dwarves.”

As we approach another door—this one larger and sturdier than the others—Maribel reaches out and tests the handle.

It doesn’t budge.

“This one’s locked,” she mutters, stepping back.

I take position and kick the door with a resounding crash. Rather than breaking through the lock, the entire thing shatters into splinters, chunks of wood flying inward. As the dust settles, I peer inside the room—

And freeze.

Maribel frowns. “What is it?”

I take in the dozens of small, reptilian figures all huddled together inside, their wide, glimmering eyes locked onto us in pure terror. Except for the one standing ahead of the other staring back at me defiantly while the other hide behind it.

“I think it’s kobolds,” I say in deadpan.

Maribel squints past me into the room. “Why do you think it’s kobolds?”

I tilt my head toward the cowering creatures, then glance at her flatly.

“Well,” I say, gesturing vaguely, “because of all the kobolds in this room.”