The sky remained dark as Aric staggered back into the cave, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His mind was still reeling from the sight of the corpse dragon—his friends, his comrades, twisted and fused into that grotesque monstrosity. The despair he had felt moments earlier had given way to something else: rage. A cold, seething rage that bubbled beneath the surface.

Who did this? The thought gnawed at him relentlessly. Whoever had turned his friends into that abomination hadn’t just killed them—they had desecrated them, used their bodies to create a weapon of unimaginable horror. His mind kept circling back to the man with the third eye. The way the ceremony had gone silent, the way the darkness had swallowed them whole… it had to be connected. That man was colluding with The Un—there was no doubt about it.

And now, Aric, Joran, and Nya were trapped in this desolate hell, surrounded by Miasma, the oppressive dark energy of the Crater. The only way out was through that thing.

Joran stood beside him, towering and solid, gripping the hilt of his massive buster sword—a weapon so large it looked like it could cleave a house in two. His expression, usually easygoing and relaxed, was deadly serious. Nya was on his other side, her eyes focused, her hand resting on the hilt of her sleek katana. Her stance was calm but poised, ready to strike with precision at any moment.

“We can’t let that thing leave this place,” Joran said, his voice low but firm. “Whatever it is, we take it down here.”

Nya nodded, her voice quiet but resolute. “It’s a manifestation of Miasma. It’s powerful, but it’s not invincible. If we strike it at its weak points, we can take it apart.”

Aric’s legs trembled as he stood, his body screaming for rest, but he couldn’t afford to stop. He had trained for this moment for over a year, pushing himself beyond his limits. Now, it was time to see if it had been enough.

“I’ll aim for the weak spots,” Aric said, gripping his rifle. “You two distract it.”

Joran grinned, hefting his buster sword onto his shoulder. “Sounds like a plan. Let’s go make some noise.”

Outside the cave, the corpse dragon loomed, its massive body formed from the broken remains of their comrades. Its soulless eyes stared into the void, but as soon as the three of them stepped out, the dragon stirred.

The air around them crackled with dark energy as the dragon’s maw opened, a low, guttural roar vibrating through the ground. The sound was enough to make Aric’s heart pound in his chest, but he couldn’t afford to let fear take hold. He had a job to do.

Joran charged first, his buster sword swinging with impossible speed for a weapon of its size. His sheer strength propelled him forward, and with a roar of his own, he brought the massive blade crashing down toward the dragon’s legs. The impact was like thunder, shaking the ground beneath them.

The dragon howled, its leg buckling under the force of Joran’s strike. But the creature retaliated with terrifying speed, swinging one of its massive claws toward him. Joran leaped back just in time, his strength giving him the agility to avoid the blow.

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“Nya, now!” Aric shouted.

Nya was already in motion, her katana flashing in the dim light as she moved with blinding speed. She darted around the dragon’s flanks, her strikes precise and surgical, aiming for the seams where the corpses were fused together. Each slash was clean, and with every cut, the dragon’s form seemed to weaken, its movements becoming more erratic.

Nya’s space distortion ability came into play as well, subtly warping the battlefield around her, making it harder for the dragon to track her movements. The ground beneath her feet seemed to shift, distances altering in ways that made her strikes impossible to predict. She moved like a phantom, her katana a blur of silver in the dark.

Meanwhile, Aric focused on the weak point he had identified earlier, where a gap in the bodies on the dragon’s chest. He aimed carefully, his rifle steady in his hands. He fired, and the bullet hit its mark, piercing the raw, exposed flesh. The dragon howled in agony, its massive body thrashing violently.

But the victory was short-lived.

The dragon, now enraged, unleashed a torrent of dark energy, its body convulsing as the Miasma swirled around it like a storm. The ground beneath them trembled as the creature’s attacks became more savage.

With a terrifying speed, the dragon’s tail lashed out, catching Joran off guard. The blow hit him square in the chest, sending him flying into a nearby rock wall with a sickening crash. His buster sword clattered to the ground as he slumped, struggling to catch his breath.

“Joran!” Aric shouted, panic rising in his chest.

Nya, too, was caught in the dragon’s rampage. Despite her speed, the dragon’s claws found their mark, slashing across her side and sending her tumbling to the ground, her katana slipping from her grip. She gasped, clutching her wound, but forced herself to stand, blood dripping down her side.

“We… we’re not done yet,” Nya gasped, her voice strained.

But Aric could see it. They were losing. Joran and Nya had fought bravely, but this monster was far beyond them. It was going to kill them all unless something changed.

Aric’s heart pounded, his vision blurring as he looked between his fallen friends and the rampaging dragon. He could feel the dark energy pressing in on him, suffocating him, threatening to consume his very soul.

This can’t be it…

The dragon reared back, preparing for another attack, but Aric’s body refused to move. His muscles screamed in pain, his mind clouded with exhaustion. The world around him began to darken, the crushing weight of the Crater’s energy pressing in on him, threatening to devour him whole.

I can’t lose… not like this…

Something deep inside him stirred—a burning desire, raw and primal. It wasn’t just the will to survive. It was more than that. It was the overwhelming need to destroy this abomination, to avenge his friends, to protect Joran and Nya.

His Desire.

The moment the thought crossed his mind, something inside Aric snapped. A surge of power, unlike anything he had ever felt, roared to life within him. His body trembled as the energy coiled through his veins, and his mind sharpened into crystal-clear focus.

His Labor and Talent—they were separate forces. But now, with this newfound power, they could become one.

With a growl of determination, Aric rose to his feet, blood still dripping from his side. He summoned his rifle in one hand and his father’s sword in the other. As he stared down the dragon, he could feel the energy shifting around him, bending to his will.

The rifle and sword began to glow with a brilliant light, merging together, their forms fusing into one cohesive weapon. A gunblade—a massive sword with the ability to fire bullets—materialized in his hands, the perfect fusion of his Labor and Talent.

The dragon let out another roar, but this time, Aric didn’t falter.

He charged forward, the gunblade humming with energy. The dragon lunged at him, but Aric was faster. With a single swing, he sliced through the air, the blade cutting deep into the dragon’s chest. At the same time, he pulled the trigger, firing a powerful projectile directly into the creature’s heart.

The impact sent a shockwave through the beast, its body convulsing as the energy tore through it. The dragon let out a final, blood-curdling roar, its massive form collapsing to the ground.

Aric stood over the fallen monster, panting, blood dripping from his side. The energy inside him pulsed with life, his gunblade still glowing in his hands.

He had done it.

Joran groaned from where he lay, slowly sitting up. “Damn, Aric… what was that?”

Nya, clutching her wound, managed a weak smile. “You… awakened your Desire.”

Aric collapsed to the ground, the weight of the battle finally catching up to him. The dragon was dead, but the real fight was only just beginning.