Cru struggles in the grip of a pitch-black gauntlet. His golden mana condenses and pulls away. Where it goes, he knows he will follow. His life energy burns with a scorned resentment. He pushed too far. This is not the first time he tried to sever his bond. This is the first time something actually happened. It just so happens that the thing is death.
"No." They can not have him. He will not be pulled away from his new life. His fortitude is solid. Pitting his will against the Darkness that pulls him away, he commands himself to stay.
It works. The black gauntlet no longer pulls Cru; he is not returning to the dungeon. Still, he is trapped in the dark grasp of his former life, unable to move or escape. Stay. His focus is singular. As long as he concentrates, he does not get pulled away. So, it is a battle of wills. He does not know how long he fights this stubborn battle, not once has he moved, though. However, he has not figured a way out either. The dungeon still claims him, and he refuses.
What feels like days pass. The druid is exhausted. Still, he refuses to be pulled anymore. More days. More tiredness. Cru knows he is exhausted. His conscience is barely awake. His focus keeps him tethered. A nudge knocks him back from the abyss, and though his will is strong, the gauntlet reels him in.
No. No. No. No. It is not supposed to end like this. Just let him go. Why can he not be free? "I will fight you." Cru is in a savage state of resistance. He throws everything he has at his bond. It's useless. His fight prevails, though he gains no ground.
"Little one, why do you fight your people's call?" The image of a chiseled warrior with blue hair, sharp fangs, lengthy arms, and dressed in a forest green vest and light tan pants pops into his mind. Around the shaman's neck is a talisman made of teeth, and hovering next to his head is a wooden carved owl. Cru knows this man. He is a mid-ranking boss of the Eternal Darkness and the Chief in charge of the raiders. "Come home."
This man used to mean so much to Crusher. This very man was one of his heroes. Becoming strong and joining Tormund Green Axe in his conquest was all he dreamed of. Luckily, Cru can not speak. He can not even focus his thoughts on the legendary druid.
"What causes you to be irrational? Your bond gives you life and power. Without it, you will perish. Stop resisting, and you will join my pack when you rise again. The pull on his soul doubles in strength. His time in the abyss is ending, and he will be pulled through the other side. He can not return. Before, he thought he could. Now that it is actually happening, every fiber in his being aches.
Not there. I can not go back. I will not. Cru no longer focuses on resisting with his body. Instead, he changes his thoughts to his soul and begins pulling.
"This is foolish," says his icon. "You would rather perish?"
Piece by piece, golden mana breaks from his core. As his dungeon bond pulls on him, remnants of life mana slip through the cracks. Each broken piece weakens the goblin's resolve. As more is pulled out, his memories begin to fade.
"I will be your personal mentor. By my side, you will gain glory and power. Why throw that away?" Cru tries to hold on to what memories he can, but in doing so, he keeps himself trapped. He continues to unravel until one last thought keeps him together.
Crusher.
For a few weeks, he was everything he wanted to be. Cru… the name is a sweet memory to end on. Just let go, and it is over. Let go and be free.
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Despite his determination for desolation, Cru struggles to let go of the last shred of himself. Broken and fragile, his soul continues to be dragged by the bonds of the dungeon. Just as darkness entirely claims him, the gauntlet comes to a halt. The cruel bond pulls harder. Still, he does not budge. Scattered outside of the gauntlet are hundreds of specks of golden mana. Stretching out from each speck are thin webs that anchor to him.
The dark hand pulls harder and harder. The exit from this realm back to life is mere inches away. More and more specks appear, and an entire web now holds the druid in place. The dungeon's claim on his soul is overwhelmed. Inches become feet, then yards, then miles.
Far from the Eternal Darkness' power, Cru is no longer at the mercy of its bond, which is still tugging at his soul. Instead, he is wrapped in the bonds of his spiders. In this state, he feels safe. In this state, he is secure in who he is.
At peace with himself, Cru lets go. His last strand of identity slips from the gauntlet. Free from the ties of life, the goblin doesn't fade into death as he feared. His being is wrapped in golden threads. Life pumps back to him, and his soul patches itself together.
From an orb of golden energy, Cru's avatar takes shape. His bones thicken and lengthen, and his muscles grow. His green skin becomes golden brown. A complicated root system that expands his entire body replaces the simple channels that barely push past his chest. Golden mana fuses around dark brown wood that encases the goblin in armor. In his hand, a staff hooked at one end forms. His soul expands. No longer a lancer, the sage stands proudly. Mana radiates around him, and he directs his life energy to his spiders.
No longer a weak goblin, Cru stands with confidence. The staff formed from parts of the Golden Mana Tree radiates with the same power he feels swelling inside. Behind him, he feels the strength and support of his spider herd. In front of him, the pitch-black gauntlet shakes with power as it grows in size.
The bond becomes a void and sucks energy into itself. Eternal Darkness still will not let him go. With deliberate steps, Cru makes his way to the gauntlet. The bond's pull is so intense that he should not be able to walk toward it. However, instead of being sucked back into the dungeon's grasp, Cru walks toward it with ease.
When he reaches the fist, the hand opens and beckons him to return. A sharp wooden blade with a golden edge grows from Cru's right hand. Sensing his intent. The dungeon bond forms into a fist and bashes at him. Cru lifts his staff, and a shield of life energy intercepts the blow. The goblin follows up with a cut from his blade, taking off a chunk from the gauntlet. The fist shakes off the attack and strikes again. Cru's gold aegis blocks the attack. His sword strikes out, and he lands another blow. The dungeon does not relent. Each blow hit harder, cracking the ground of dark space. Cru now stands within a newly created crater. Each punch is weathered and countered. As the goblin grows in strength, the bond shrinks.
No longer small and feeble against the might of the Eternal Darkness, Cru summons his spiders to aid in the battle. Together, they hack and slash at his old ties, making short work of the task. The goblin delivers the final blow when only a sliver of the bond lingers. The dungeon groans as all of its traces disappear. Shortly after, Cru wakes up in a busy forest. All that remains of the Golden Mana Tree is the bed of leaves that the goblin rests on.
Laying on his back, Cru takes in deep breaths. Life fills his soul, and he can feel the rich mana around him. Freedom. The word dances in his mind. True freedom. He is no longer tied to his old dungeon. They have no claim on his soul. He will never be forced back there. They will never be able to force their will upon him again. Tears roll down his face as a hearty chuckle in his stomach adds to the joyous chorus of the forest laughter.
While he laughs and cries, the goblin keeps checking on his core. He is truly free. Not only that, the Golden Tree is bound to his entire being. The tree's energy alone has raised him six cultivation levels. He gained nine ranks of spirit and mind essences. His mind has been reforged. The new essence ranks even morphed his class from druid to shepherd. Whatever disappointment Cru might feel from the new class assignments pales to his excitement from his channel overhaul. With the influence of the life tree, his body is now covered in channels.
Filled with joy, the shepherd finally gets to his feet. He takes a deep breath of the vibrant life around him and stretches his arms. A deep smile still crests his lips. Cru closes his eyes and focuses on the tiny bonds connected to his soul. He summons his spiders individually, and as he does so, he gives each a name. When the task is done, he beckons to Strider. The golden spider no longer needs to lower her body for Cru to get on. Once seated, the shepherd and his herd rush home.