“What’s your plan, Flynn?” Rook asked.

Russell approached the savage beasts with silent steps.

“You going to face them both at the same time?” Bradford shouted. “Are you crazy?”

Was he crazy? Was that actual concern in the douchebag’s voice? Or was it anticipation to watch Russell die?

He had no answer for any for those questions, but he knew he was at the end of his rope. His mind was going blank, his body was beyond exhausted. But most of all, he was pissed.

Pissed with himself. With the people around him. With these pests that kept on coming.

Both monsters snapped their gaze at him, the larger beast tilting its head in curiosity. It licked its lips as if it found a tastier treat, a better prey than the one served right before its nose.

Russell strode with purposeful steps, abandoning all pretense of stealth, and his tired footfalls echoed in the lobby.

Was anyone else concerned for the woman about to meet a gruesome death, or was it only him? And if the others were fine letting someone like Autumn die, who would even care what happened to Russell?

Would Serena care? Would Harper?

And if he fell tonight, if none of them survived, would his sister ever know what happened?

He shambled toward the monsters, a pair of merciless predators waiting for their prey. His boots dragged on the carpet, his arms like anchors weighing him down.

Was everyone here thinking he had gone mad? That he was heading straight toward his death?

The larger monster let out a snarl but showed no signs it would lunge, allowing him to approach. Strike one.

Were they excited? Expecting to see him fail? Eager to witness the town outcast finally meet his end?

The monster’s maw eased open, the spaces between its scales glowing a deep red, its body leaking trails of smoke.

Too bad for them, Russell growled in his head—his skin tingling, ears buzzing, blood seething—as he picked up the pace.

An orange ember sparked to life behind the monster’s throat.

Because I don’t plan on dying just yet.

And Russell flung his flashlight with all his might as he dashed forward.

The monster’s head jerked. His throw missed. But its flames sputtered, dying out after it moved to dodge. Strike two.

His blundering legs pumped under him, eating up the yards between predator and prey. The larger monster’s gaze returned. Locked on to him. Sightless yet seeing. Right when he dove toward Autumn, clearing the remaining distance…

And snagged the sledgehammer from the ground.

A snarl came from behind him as he spun, swung the hammer around—and missed.

The monster had jumped back, easily dodging his attack.

Strike three.

Russell continued his spin, raising the weapon high, letting the hammer reach its peak—before he brought down his wrath on the other monster’s head.

Thick scales, already healing but still cracked and broken, shattered. The skull, larger than a bear’s, harder than concrete, caved in. Then blood burst everywhere, splattering all over the carpet, all over the hammer, all over him, as he blew its brains out.

You have slain [Scaletooth Savage - 4th Shard / Level 1].

Then Russell dove to the side.

A figure shot past him, the song and his experience warning him ahead of time.

He rolled back to his feet, blinking the text away. Making sure the second monster locked its sightless gaze on him after its failed ambush, he ran in the other direction.

He needed to create more distance from Autumn so others could save her. And he needed to buy some time for himself, hope he hadn’t just made a colossal mistake.

Neither one being too hard.

Too bad he immediately failed his second objective.

He darted to the side, shifting direction in the blink of an eye—just fast enough to escape the monster’s second lunge.

He crouched on the floor, staying on the balls of his feet as the monster skidded on the floor and made its turn.

“Get her!” someone shouted behind him.

Russell wanted to cheer but could only gnash his teeth. He had achieved his first goal but had failed to stall for time. He may have saved Autumn, but he failed to save himself.

Light flashed behind him, flooding the area in white.

You have absorbed a large portion of its soul essence.

Unexpected warmth wrapped around him, seeping into his clothes, into his skin, as energy flowed back into every strand of worn-out muscle in his body. Not a shot of adrenaline, but a vitality similar to a calming bath and a good night’s rest. He felt refreshed, renewed.

Reborn.

The fight wasn’t over; his gamble had paid off.

And he wasn’t the one who had run out of time.

Sensing a change in its prey, a menacing growl rumbled from the monster’s throat, while a growl of excitement reverberated from deep inside Russell’s chest in response before he charged toward the monster.

He rushed to his left, dashed to his right, shifting directions every few steps.

The monster tracked his advance. It couldn’t stop him from closing the distance, not when it never attacked an elusive target—just as the others before it never did.

The first Scaletooth he had faced was full of unknowns, an unstoppable predator.

The second Scaletooth he had killed had been much the same way, a difficult foe.

But the third Scaletooth he was facing now—larger, faster, stronger than any before it—this one was nothing but prey.

He blew past the monster, its ankles breaking as it tried to keep up, shifting to face him as he passed by—forgetting the sledgehammer’s head at the opposite end of his long weapon.

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The hammer landed. The monster’s head jerked. But the blow lacked power, not even denting the thick scale on its head—as he expected.

He had never intended the opening strike to be lethal; he only needed it as a distraction.

While the monster shook its head clear, by using both hands to wield his weapon, using the momentum from his charge, he crushed the joint in its hind leg.

And the beast let out a pained roar. Its tail whipped about, slicing through the air and forcing him to jump away.

But the damage had been done.

The monster limped a step back, snarling, its rear leg dragging, hanging from its torso.

Russell stared at its eyeless face. And he bared his teeth, smiling.

The monster could tell. It could tell the fight was over, over before it truly began, over in a single blow.

He didn’t simply maim its leg; he mutilated it.

And he was just getting started.

Russell knew these monsters were natural predators—

He swung his hammer, aiming for its head.

—He couldn’t fight them in a battle of attrition—

Then he smashed one of its front claws instead, turning it into meat paste.

—He couldn’t fight them in a battle of strength—

The beast spun around, flinging its tail as it collapsed on its good leg.

—They were sturdier than him—

Russell ducked under its wild counterattack, shifting direction, never staying in the same location.

—they were faster than him—

The hammer’s head blasted through the monster’s own. Scales dented. Cracked. Shattered.

—deadlier than him—

He swiveled on his feet, never losing momentum even when the monster had been debilitated.

—and they outmatched him in every way—

His weapon came crashing down on the base of the monster’s tail. A pained cry. A struggle to get back on its feet. To get away.

—but they had chosen the wrong prey—

The hammer slid on the carpet as he brought it to bear. Rising behind him. Falling in front of him.

—because Russell’s wrath was unrivaled, the fury burning inside him unparalleled—

The joint on the monster’s other hind leg crumbled into powder, turning its cries into a howling screech.

—While dread had crippled the rest of their quarry—

The hammer arced around his shoulder; blood trailed. The monster’s last good leg exploded; blood rained.

— only unadulterated anger flowed through his veins, consuming his thoughts, stoking the madness he had hidden away—

The blows continued to rain down, the hammer an extension of his body, dancing to the rhythm of clashing metal.

—and that same madness peeled its eyes open—

A strike to the head. To the neck. The back. Back to the head, head, head…

—stirring from its long slumber…

Rising.

Rousing.

Awakening.

Until Russell bellowed a savage roar and delivered the killing blow.

And the world became dead silent—just when he never felt so alive.

You have slain [Scaletooth Savage - 6th Shard / Level 2]

He raised his head, gasping for air as he stared aimlessly above him, losing himself at the dark, vaulted ceiling. His lungs struggled to draw in breaths. His heart hammered to keep the blood pumping.

Both monsters were dead, and yet the song remained, stronger than before.

“Holy shit…” a voice whispered.

He shot the crowd a sideways glance. Darkness and distance veiled their faces, but they were all there, standing far away. Staring.

“He…He killed that monster all by himself?” another muttered. “Both of them?”

Someone scoffed. “What monster? It looked as if he was the—“

“Shh! He might hear you.”

Russell’s numb hand lost all strength, and the hammer slipped from his grip. Its head dropped to the ground, his fingertips barely grasping the end of its handle, refusing to let go. His knees grew weak, his legs threatening to give—

A strong pair of hands kept him upright.

“You good, man?” Clayton asked.

Russell dipped his head as his friend stood beside him, one arm on his back to keep him from falling. They stared at monstrous corpse before them, letting the quiet seconds pass.

His mind blanked for a moment, his head drooping, and he saw the blood. Dark red liquid coated the hammer. Even his hands, his arms, his jeans and shirt, his own face—everything was covered in blood.

He scrubbed the blood from his skin and brushed it from his shirt, but he only made things worse.

Then the hulking corpse glowed.

Russell slid a step back.

“It’s fine,” Clayton said. “Watch. You already missed the first one.”

White light leaked out from under its scales, then the scales themselves shone a white luster, shining, blinding. Even the blackish substance he had on him glowed a faint light, turning pure white before breaking down like fine sand. They flaked off from his skin, from his outfit, his hammer, and they drifted away like white ash, fading from existence, the stench of blood disappearing with them.

Yet Russell kept on scrubbing.

It didn’t matter that the blood was long gone. It had been there. It was still there, somehow. Mocking him. Taunting him. And no matter what he did, he couldn’t take away the stain, the stench. The taint.

You never did.

Mist coalesced, enveloping the glowing corpse. Wisps of white vapor rose in the air like smoke rising from a campfire—and they drifted toward Russell.

You have absorbed a major portion of its soul essence.

He froze as familiar warmth enveloped him. His body recovered a portion of its energy, pushing back his exhaustion, even taking away the pain from his right shoulder, yet the feeling of being drained never fully cleared away. Whatever the soul essence was, it didn’t help with his mental fatigue, and it felt as if no amount of sleep would be able to lift away the burden from his mind.

But the sensation didn’t end there. A charge of energy coursed through him. This time it didn’t come from outside; it came from within. It surged from his core, rushing through his bones and muscles, dousing both his mind and body with power more potent than any he had encountered so far.

If his first absorption of soul essence revitalized him, what he experienced now was a change comparable to his system’s awakening.

Your soul has leveled up.

The light from the monster continued to dissipate until all it left behind was an orb floating more than a foot above the ground, buzzing with profound energy, shimmering with lustrous light. And compared the soul shard he had absorbed, this crystal sphere was visibly bigger, even larger than any coin he’d seen.

Unraveling Core…

The orb cracked.

“What the…?” Russell muttered.

“Wait for it,” Clayton said.

Fractures spread across the surface of the round crystal…until it splintered into pieces. The tiny glowing fragments drifted in the air like a soft explosion of firework, disintegrating into white dust, only leaving behind a single intact crystal that dropped to the ground.

[Attribute Shard]

Footsteps approached. Russell threw a glance over his shoulder thinking it was either Serena or Harper, only to see Rook. The guy drew closer, leaving the others behind as they continued to stare at Russell from a distance.

Rook stood next to them, watching the final traces of magic fade. He sighed and reached his hand out to Russell, dropping a similar crystal on his palm.

[Affinity Shard]

Clapping a hand on Russell’s shoulder, Rook shook his head. “You were right,” he said before he made his way back to the crowd. His wide shoulders, usually brimming with strength, hunched.

“I can’t believe she nearly died because of me,” Clayton muttered, drawing Russell’s attention. “What was I thinking? What was I doing? I was swinging a hammer around like a goddamn lunatic when I don’t even know how to fight.”

Russell stared at the now empty space on the floor. “You did well, Clay. I should’ve reminded you guys about the second monster sooner.” He grasped the hammer in a firm grip and shoved it into Clayton’s chest. “Here. Try not to drop it again.”

Clayton recoiled. “No, man. Keep it.” He pushed the weapon back to Russell as if it was cursed, but Russell refused to take it back.

Even with his enhanced strength, he could barely fight against a monster with just his flashlight; he couldn’t imagine Clayton faring any better. At least with a sledgehammer, his friend would have a fighting chance.

And to him, the hammer would always reek with blood.

Clayton opened his mouth to complain some more when a commotion rang in the distance. The soft glow of a candlelight illuminated a corner of the lobby. A figure knelt on the floor, her golden hair tied in a bun, the sleeves of a green blazer pulled up to her elbows.

Serena?

People surrounded her, watching her work as she hovered over someone else lying on the ground. The somber expressions of those standing around her told Russell all he needed to know.

“Please…Please…” Serena cried out, her voice drifting across the quiet room.

“You can stop now,” a voice said, feminine and strong. Familiar. “Donald’s gone.”

Serena kept shaking her head even as Harper’s small figure pulled her to her feet and wrapped her in her embrace—right when translucent threads of white light rose from Donald’s body.

Russell blinked, and the trails of smoke vanished. They were gone as if they never existed, as if had been seeing things. Was he mistaken?

He turned to ask Clayton when the song called out to him again. The heartbeats were the same but somehow different, agitated, sounding cohesive yet chaotic, thumping like drums of war.

A howl resounded outside, faint, distant, and it lasted a few seconds—before another howl answered its call, then another, and another, until their numbers became too many to count, the bestial calls overlapping into a cacophony.

Fearful sobs and panicked shouts echoed in the once-quiet lobby, yet all Russell could hear was the song. He didn’t even flinch; a part of him was even thankful. There was no need for him to warn anyone because everyone had heard the warning this time.

“You’ve been right all along, Russ,” Clayton muttered beside him, watching the chaos unfold. “This is no fucking game.”

Russell closed his eyes, letting the surroundings, the song, the endless problems fade away. What was the point of being right when he would rather be wrong?

Monsters existed.

This wasn’t a game.

And it was far from over.