I didn't have much time to think about my newly formed arm as not just the tower but the whole cave trembled.

Stalagmite fell like an ash-eagle diving down to hunt its prey during the Ashfall.

With thundering explosions, the cave began to crumble down. Not wanting to stay and find out what would happen, I turned around for a run, only to stop, remembering the 'vibrating tentacle' monster's existence.

With a long-suffering sigh, I twirled around, gazing at the icosahedron-like object hovering amid the monolith and the tentacle. The tentacle seemed to be coming out of the icosahedron—even though the tentacles were a bit higher than it.

'Some sorta portal?' I thought.

Not having the time to process whatever was going on, I scuttled forth. After the continuous knowledge which kept popping up in my mind from the day I was born to now, I knew that there were some things you should know.

First, if you see a 'boss' monster, and it's stronger than you, run away.

Second, do not let the 'boss' monster complete its transformation and strike when the iron is hot. Unlike a certain mango-haired alien.

Third . . .

The list goes on but time is of the essence.

And since I knew that I was neither stronger than the tentacle nor was I sure if it had a transformation, I did what came to my mind.

Strike the iron when it's hot—I mean, hit the root of the problem—and by that, I mean to destroy the icosahedron-like object.

Without thinking twice, I burned Dor, enhancing my strength as much as I could, then jumped.

With a resounding boom from below, I was high up.

Too high.

The icosahedron was a few paces below me, and I kept going higher and higher. I had surely—in the heat of the moment—used too much strength to jump.

Twirling mid-air, I let the flailing tentacle hit me from behind and used it to propel me towards the icosahedron.

Tensing my right arm—which was a weapon, or so did Kismet say—I burned Dor, letting it course through the arm while falling downwards.

The arm fluttered in excitement, and as I got closer to the icosahedron, I readied a punch—fully expecting something cool to happen.

I mean, it was a god-damn weapon given by a literal God.

But nothing even mildly close to what I expected happened. As my fist made contact with the icosahedron, the arm exploded into big sand particles, enveloping the icosahedron inside. The next moment, the thing was gone, and so was the tentacle. Leaving me amid the air, gazing stupidly at the sand particles morphing back into my arm as I fell.

'Well . . . That was surely anticlimactic.' I thought.

Sighing, I peered around, looking for anything else that might be dangerous.

Fortunately, there wasn't anything else that I deemed dangerous. Though when I spotted Davis' corpse, my vision halted.

He was . . . Strange.

He said that the 'lord' had promised to revive his mother, then he'd gone out of his way to bring me under the 'lord'.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

And, when he'd kneeled in front of the tentacle, he didn't move even when he knew that he was dying.

I was, literally, frying his brain, and yet, he didn't retaliate.

'Why was that?' I thought.

As cracking noises resounded in the cave and the tower shook, I bolted out of my mind.

The cave seemed to be collapsing, and I needed to get out before it did so.

I walked toward the corner of the tower— Davis' corpse was towards that side as well.

As I got closer, I felt Dor flaring without my consent and my new arm fluttering again

'What?' I thought, 'Why?'

Why was this happening again?

I frowned.

'Is this normal?'

I sighed, fully knowing that I didn't know sh*t about what this 'weapon' was.

As of now, It acted as an arm—which I definitely liked—but it was a weapon, and I needed to find out what kind of weapon it was.

But that was for later.

The fluttering arm exploded into black sand particles, flying towards Davis' corpse, then, engulfed the whole of it in a sphere of black sand.

As Dor flared once again, I noticed a golden light leak out of the sand sphere.

After a while, the sand returned, morphing into my arm.

Knitting my eyebrows, I just walked towards the corner to jump down.

'Strange.' I thought. Why did the sand do that again? It had done so before on the icosahedron-like object and the tentacle as well.

Not that it mattered to me anyway.

***

Evading the falling debris, I hastened my gait, dodging and ducking when a rock or stalactite fell near me.

I didn't know where the exit was, and I didn't care. If I didn't find one, I'd blast the cave from somewhere and dig an exit for myself.

After running for a while, and noting that I wasn't getting anywhere. I flared Dor.

Pyromantic power surged through my body, enhancing my senses.

The cave around me became visible, the darkness vanishing as if it never existed.

The rocks and the cave walls, the ground, and everything around me turned crisp, the dull light, which illuminated the cave, flared to near blinding brightness.

I could feel the roughness in the ground of the cave beneath me through the soft soles of my shoes.

Could still taste the remnants of the strawberry pies I'd snacked on earlier—before arriving in Graymore.

Most importantly, I could hear the pitter-patter noise with my now-supernatural ears.

It was raining, I was certain. Turning mid-gait, I scuttled towards the ever-increasing pitter-patter.

As the noise increased, so did the dampness in the air.

The cold wind rustled in the distance.

The smell of wet mud wafted inside my nose.

After a while of running, I spotted a blinding white hole. Not thinking about it in the slightest, I straight out pushed through the light, a symphony of colors blasting my eyes, turning me almost blind.

I extinguished Dor, letting the steam exhaust through my nostrils.

Running even when I saw some blurry figures. A cool breeze caressed my cheeks, a wet sensation enveloping my scalp then my face, slowly, my entire body.

I slowed down, feeling the slick ground beneath me before the lasting effects of Dor vanished, leaving me a bit sluggish.

A thunder boomed, from one corner of the horizon to the other, big, dark, and fluffy clouds hovered, casting shadows in the falling rain.

Not even a tinge of sunlight managed to penetrate through the clouds.

The chittering of the raindrops grew louder, making plopping sounds as they hit the ground—or anything else for that matter.

As the rumbling of thunder drowned the sound of the raindrops, I was completely drenched; not that I cared.

The raindrops washed my face of the remaining mud or blood.

I twirled around, gazing at the people waiting for me like I was some hero; which I wasn't, far from it.

The people seemed a bit funny to me, they were the same people who were crying or depressed just a while ago, and now, they were smiling while talking to each other.

They enjoyed the falling rain, feeling free, not caring about the collapsed cave behind them in the slightest.

I gazed around at the gathered humans and elves alike until my vision halted on some familiar figures.

They were Doryu, Aria, Ariadne, and Feyrith.

Doryu sat there, silently. Aria and Ariadne clung close to each other, Feyrith slumped just beside them, hiding his presence with his body language to the minimum.

Beelining towards them, I brushed my long and drenched white hair. I sat down near Feyrith and gazed at the trees in front, not saying anything.

Feyrith glanced at me from time to time, parting his lips then closing them again, repeating the same action for a while.

He wanted to say something, I could tell—he was easy enough for me to read.

" . . . Thank . . . You . . . " Finally after a while, he said what he wanted to, leaving me a bit saddened.

He was similar to me in some aspects, and that reminded me of Jeramie (that f*cker)

Sighing, I shifted my attention away from Jeramie and, with a forced smile—I had lost my mask, so my face was visible—I opened my mouth.

"You're welcome . . . " Letting the pitter-patter of the rain reign over us, I turned silent.

Hours passed and the weather decided to calm down. I stood up gazing at the trees and then at the people.

From one human to another, then from one elf to another. They clung to each other for warmth—it was quite cold, after all.

I wasn't sure what to do with them. Sure, the humans could travel back to the town as it was near but the elves were a pain in the butt.

Even though I wanted to just go home already, I knew that leaving the elves to go to Elvon on their own would be stupid.

The elf king wasn't stupid, but the people were the 'sheep' kind.

They'd follow and believe a rumor anytime than believe facts.

Not only the elves, but any race for that matter, was like that. And I did not want to get entangled in the politics—as some elven nobles could capitalize on the fact that some elves were 'kidnapped' and held 'hostage' by the humans.

Facts could be twisted, after all.

Why? Because there were still some pricks who hated the other races.

Racism.

It was something that could never really be uprooted.

'Completely, that is.' I thought.

It could be controlled, but not destroyed. That was a sad truth.

Even though the elves were really kidnapped and imprisoned in the human domain by the zombies, they were still kidnapped and brought to the human domain instead of someplace else.

Which could be used as fuel to the fire known as hatred between the races. Or to ignite the flame of hatred.

'I hate politics.' I groaned.

As I didn't want the few nobles—who could, potentially, take advantage of the situation—to cause a war between the humans and elves, I had no choice but to 'escort' the elven people safely to Elvon.

I hated the guts of those self-centered nobles.

Even though I was, kind of, like them. Self-centered. Not caring about others—except my lovely family and some chosen few people, of course.

I didn't care if the elves go on a war against the humans, but I didn't want to get involved in it. It was troublesome. And I was lazy.

Sighing, I suggested to Aria and Ariadne.

"How about I escort you guys back to Elvon?"