The camp fell silent as the reality sank in. Three hunters dead in a single day. Bad luck, bad planning, or something more sinister—it didn't matter now. All that mattered was ensuring there wouldn't be a fourth.
Alexander approached. "We need to bury them. Properly."
I nodded. "And then we need a plan."
"Agreed." He looked toward the horizon, where one of the suns was gradually shifting position. "That sentinel might be the key to escaping this place. But in our current condition..."
"We're not ready," I finished for him. "Not yet."
The others gathered as we discussed next steps. Shikamaru, practical despite his apparent laziness. Yuzuriha, subdued but focused. Theodore, exhausted from his healing efforts but still attentive. Dave and Josh, the porters who had become essential team members through necessity.
And Nicole, watching me with a new awareness in her eyes.
We buried Jin, Sonya, and Elise as the dual suns shifted position overhead, casting long, strange shadows across the oasis. No one spoke during the improvised funeral. Words seemed inadequate against the finality of three freshly dug graves.
After the others moved to the new camp, I lingered, standing before the simple markers we'd fashioned from oasis wood and stone.
The rune stone pulsed in my pocket, almost in time with my heartbeat. I drew it out, watching the symbols shift and dance across its surface. Something about it called to me, a knowledge just beyond my reach.
'Arcan,' I called mentally. 'I need answers.'
『I'm listening,』 she replied.
'How many monsters do I need to kill to max out my stats? To reach 1500 across the board?'
She was quiet for a moment, calculating. 『Based on your current attributes and average XP gains per kill... approximately 100 B-Rank monsters. Fewer if you target higher-ranked entities.』
I considered this. The mimics had given substantial XP despite their incorporeal nature. The sentinel would likely provide even more...
'Second question: Should I level up now, or wait until I max out?'
『The formula is clear,』 Arcan replied. 『Maxing out before leveling provides exponentially greater returns. Your base stats after leveling would be 2,500 instead of 2,200 max if you wait.』
I weighed the risk against the reward. Waiting meant spending more time in this deadly gate, putting the others at continued risk. But leveling prematurely meant sacrificing potential power that might be the difference between life and death when facing the sentinels.
The rune stone pulsed more urgently, as if responding to my thoughts. The symbols shifted again, and for a brief moment, I understood them perfectly—a fragment of knowledge sliding into place like a missing puzzle piece.
Hunt. Grow. Ascend.
Three simple concepts, yet they resonated within me. The stone grew warm in my palm, then hot—not burning, but transforming, melting into a luminous liquid that seeped into my skin.
'Arcan, what happened?'
『Integration,』 she replied, her voice sounding stronger, clearer. 『The rune stone contained a skill. You've absorbed it.』
I stared at my palm where the rune stone had dissolved, feeling the warm tingle of power settling beneath my skin. The sensation reminded me of the first time I'd activated mana reinforcement—familiar yet strange, like an old memory suddenly made fresh.
'Show me my status.'
The familiar arcane mandala materialized in my vision, glowing with that distinctive blue-silver light. The circular pattern expanded outward, revealing my attributes in flowing script:
[Player: Xavier Valentine]
[Level: 1]
[Class: None]
[Title: Goblin Slayer]
[Core Attributes:]
Strength: SS - 1216 [+16]
Endurance: S - 1028 [+28]
Dexterity: S - 1118 [+18]
Agility: SS - 1212 [+12]
Magic: SS - 1329 [+29]
[Available Skill Points: 67]
[Active Abilities: 3]
[Passive Abilities: 5]
I blinked, focusing on the numbers. Each attribute had increased since I last checked, with Magic showing the highest gain. The pattern made sense—fighting the mirages had required more magical awareness than raw strength.
'Show me my active abilities.'
The mandala shifted, three glowing sigils materializing before me. I recognized the first two immediately—Mana Reinforcement and Echo. But the third was new, a complex pattern of interwoven lines forming what looked like multiple overlapping silhouettes.
'Mana Clone?'
Information unfolded in my mind as I focused on the new ability:
Mana Clone
ACTIVE SKILL
Create solid copies of yourself by dividing your mana into multiple forms. Each clone maintains physical substance and can interact with the environment, execute skills, and gather information.
Effects:
Create up to 5 functional copies of yourself
Clones possess 70% of your physical stats and 40% of your mana capacity
Clones can use all basic skills at reduced effectiveness (70% power)
Experience, knowledge, and attribute training gained by clones transfers to you upon dispersion
Physical training done by clones provides 40% of the attribute gains that would be earned if done personally
Clones disperse after receiving significant damage
Mana Cost:
500 MP per clone created
5 MP per minute per clone maintenance cost
I whistled softly. 'So this is what you meant about the mirages being cheap copies. This is the real thing.'
『Precisely,』 Arcan replied, sounding almost smug. 『Their mimicry is superficial. This ability creates genuine extensions of yourself with independent functionality while maintaining your core consciousness across all forms.』
The implications were staggering. Training multiple skills simultaneously. Scouting dangerous areas without personal risk. Creating tactical advantages in combat through numerical superiority.
I glanced around. The burial site was secluded enough. Perfect for a test run.
Mana clone.
The familiar tingle of energy flowed through me, but instead of reinforcing my body, it separated—peeling away like a layer of skin made from light.
The sensation was bizarre. Not painful, but disorienting, like looking through two sets of eyes simultaneously. Mana condensed beside me, forming a perfect duplicate of my body down to the last detail.
I activated Six Eyes to examine the construct. The clone's mana signature was nearly identical to mine, but with subtle differences—like looking at a mirror image that wasn't quite perfect. The flow patterns maintained the same basic structure as mine but ran at approximately half the intensity.
The clone turned to face me, mirroring my analytical expression. Then it did something unexpected—it smirked and casually picked its nose with its pinky finger.
"Seriously?" I said.
The clone shrugged. "Just testing the autonomous functions. Seems like everything works."
Its voice was identical to mine. Unsettling.
"What am I thinking right now?" I asked.
"How would I know? I'm not telepathic." The clone crossed its arms. "I have your personality and memories up to the moment of creation, but we're not sharing a hivemind. I'm just... you, but separate."
I circled the clone, studying its movements. "Try activating Mana Reinforcement."
The clone nodded, and a faint blue aura shimmered around its body—noticeably dimmer than when I used the skill.
"How does it feel?"
"Weaker," the clone admitted. "Maybe 50% of normal? Still functional though."
I picked up a stone and threw it at the clone, who caught it easily.
"Reflexes seem intact," I noted.
"Obviously. I'm still you, just running on lower power."
For the next twenty minutes, I ran the clone through various tests—physical capabilities, skill execution, independent decision-making. Throughout it all, the clone maintained perfect coherence, functioning as a slightly weaker version of myself with all my mannerisms intact.
"Last test," I said finally. "Can you create another clone?"
The clone tried to access the Mana Clone ability but shook its head. "No go. Seems like that's restricted to the original."
"Makes sense. Otherwise we could create an army."
"And that would be too easy," the clone said with my own cynical smirk.
I nodded. Time to end the experiment. "Disperse."
The command severed the mana connection, and the clone dissolved into particles of blue light that flowed back into my body. A rush of information followed—everything the clone had experienced, seen, and thought during its existence. Not just memories, but physical sensations, all integrated seamlessly as if they'd been my own experiences.
'Impressive,' I thought to Arcan. 'That's going to be extremely useful.'
『Indeed. Though I'd recommend caution when deploying multiple clones simultaneously. The mana drain increases exponentially, and the mental processing of multiple parallel experiences can be disorienting until you develop greater integration capacity.』
The sky had darkened considerably during my experimentation. Both suns were now low on the horizon, casting long, distorted shadows across the landscape. Time to return to camp.
I made my way back through the oasis, alert for any signs of monsters. The day's events weighed heavily on my mind. Three dead.
And Kaisen... I needed to tie up that loose end.
===
Blood. So much blood. Kaisen licked his fingers clean, savoring the metallic tang. The dune lurker's insides lay splattered across the sand, its exoskeleton cracked open like an egg. He'd torn through the creature's armored hide with his bare hands, the berserker strength flowing through him like liquid fire.
He tore another chunk of meat from the monster's carcass. Strange how hunger persisted even in berserker form. The lurker's flesh tasted bitter and gritty, but it filled his stomach. Sustenance to maintain this glorious rage.
The scream still echoed in his ears. That rich bitch Nicole. Her terror when he'd grabbed her. The way her expensive clothes had torn under his fingers. If only that white-haired bastard hadn't interfered.
Xavier Valentine. The name burned in Kaisen's mind.
"Fucking cheater," Kaisen muttered, tearing at another hunk of monster flesh. "Some kind of hidden ability. Has to be."
The memory of Xavier's eyes haunted him. They'd changed during the fight. Turned cold. Calculating. Like he'd been holding back the whole time.
A twig snapped behind him.
Kaisen whirled, blood and viscera dripping from his chin. Twenty feet away stood Xavier Valentine, watching him with those unnervingly calm blue eyes.
"Well, well," Xavier said. "Enjoying your meal?"
Kaisen rose to his full height, the berserker transformation still active. His muscles bulged beneath his skin, veins glowing red with power. The familiar bloodlust surged through him, but now with laser-focused purpose.
"YOU CAME BACK," Kaisen growled, his voice deeper in this form. "BRAVE OR STUPID."
Xavier shrugged. "Loose ends bother me."
Kaisen circled slowly to his right, sizing up his opponent. The white-haired man looked different somehow. More solid. More dangerous.
"SHOULD HAVE STAYED AWAY," Kaisen said, flexing his fingers. "NOW I'LL TEAR YOU APART."
Images flooded his mind—visceral, explicit. Xavier's dismembered corpse. Blood-soaked sand. And then Nicole, that spoiled princess with her perfect pink hair and luscious body. The things he'd do to her once Xavier was gone. Make her scream. Break that haughty spirit. Show her what happens to rich girls who think they're too good for men like him.
"YOU KNOW WHAT I'LL DO AFTER I KILL YOU?" Kaisen licked his blood-smeared lips. "I'LL GO BACK FOR THAT SEXY PINK-HAIRED SLUT. TEAR OFF THOSE DESIGNER CLOTHES. MAKE HER WATCH YOUR CORPSE WHILE I TAKE WHAT I WANT."
Xavier's expression didn't change, but something shifted in his eyes. A coldness. A decision made.
"THEN I'LL KEEP HER. MY PERSONAL PLAYTHING. RICH GIRLS BREAK SO-"
"Are you done?" Xavier asked, his voice flat.
Kaisen charged. The berserker rage propelled him forward with inhuman speed, his right fist cocked back for a devastating blow. He'd crush this arrogant bastard's skull, then find the girl. Take his time with her. Make her beg.
His fist met empty air.
Xavier had moved—impossibly fast—sidestepping the charge. Before Kaisen could react, a foot connected with the back of his knee. He stumbled, caught himself, and spun around.
"HOW—"
The question died as Xavier's fist slammed into his solar plexus. The impact drove the air from his lungs and sent him staggering backward.
"WHAT ARE YOU?" Kaisen demanded, circling more cautiously now.
"Just a hunter." Xavier's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Like I said before."
Kaisen roared and charged again, this time feinting left before striking right. Xavier read the move effortlessly, weaving between Kaisen's blows like they were happening in slow motion. Each time Kaisen attacked, Xavier countered with precision strikes to joints, pressure points, nerve clusters.
Pain blossomed across Kaisen's body. He'd been in countless fights, taken beatings that would have killed normal men, but this was different. Each blow felt calculated, designed to cause maximum damage with minimal effort.
"STOP DANCING AND FIGHT ME!"
Xavier paused, head tilted. "If you insist."
The world blurred. One moment Xavier stood ten feet away, the next he was inside Kaisen's guard. A hand gripped Kaisen's throat, lifting him off the ground with impossible strength. Their eyes met, and Kaisen saw something that made his berserker rage falter for the first time.
Xavier's eyes had changed color. No longer blue, but a vibrant purple.
"What the fuck are you?" Kaisen gasped, the berserker's deep voice giving way to his normal, frightened tone.
The hand around Kaisen's throat tightened. Black spots danced at the edge of his vision. He kicked and struggled, his enhanced strength useless against Xavier's grip.
Then, suddenly, he was flying. Xavier had thrown him like a rag doll. He crashed into the dune lurker's carcass, skidding through blood and entrails before coming to rest against a rock outcropping.
Pain lanced through his chest. He looked down to see a jagged piece of the lurker's exoskeleton impaled through his sternum. Blood—his blood—soaked his shirt.
Panic replaced rage. The berserker transformation flickered, his muscles shrinking as fear overwhelmed anger. He tried to maintain the transformation, to feed the rage, but the pain was too great. The red haze receded, leaving only Kaisen Noboru—pathetic, cowardly Kaisen—bleeding out in the sand.
"P-please," he whimpered as Xavier approached. "I didn't mean it."
"Yes, you did." Xavier stood over him, those purple eyes pitiless. "Every word."
"I was j-just talking! The berserker... it makes me say crazy things!"
"No." Xavier crouched beside him. "It just removes your filter. Shows what you really are."
Kaisen's mind raced, searching for escape. The wound in his chest bubbled with each breath. He was dying. Actually dying. This couldn't be happening. Not to him. He was a B-Rank hunter. He was special.
"I can change," he pleaded, tears mixing with the blood on his face. "Give me another chance. I'll leave. You'll never see me again."
"And what about the next Nicole? The next woman who catches your eye?" Xavier's voice remained conversational, as if discussing the weather. "How many have there been before her?"
Kaisen's silence was answer enough.
Xavier nodded. "That's what I thought."
"You can't just kill me," Kaisen said, desperation creeping into his voice. "That's murder. You're supposed to be the good guy."
That earned a small, humorless smile.
"You're a monster," Kaisen spat, a final defiance as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
Xavier seemed to consider this, head tilted slightly. "If killing a waste of space like you makes me a monster..." He shrugged. "Then that's exactly what I'll be."
His hand moved faster than Kaisen could track. Fingers wrapped around the protruding shard in Kaisen's chest.
"Wait—"
Xavier pushed.
Pain exploded through Kaisen's body as the shard drove deeper, piercing his heart. His vision tunneled, darkness closing in from all sides. In his final moments, as life drained away, the berserker stirred one last time—not in rage, but in fear.
For the first time, both halves of Kaisen Noboru agreed on something:
Death had purple eyes.
===
I stood over the body, watching as the light faded from Kaisen's eyes. I felt... nothing. No satisfaction. No regret.
I wiped my hands on the sand, cleaning away Kaisen's blood.
"Arcan, can you confirm death?"
『Confirmed. No vital signs detected. His mana signature has dispersed.』
Good. One loose end tied up. I glanced at the dune lurker carcass, then back at Kaisen's body. The desert would claim them both soon enough.
No one in camp would miss Kaisen. They'd assume he'd wandered off, gotten himself killed by monsters. A fitting end for a man who had been more monster than human.
What does that make you?
I pushed the thought aside. Ethics were a luxury I couldn't afford—not in this place, not with so many lives depending on me. If becoming the monster meant keeping Nicole, Yuzuriha, and the others safe, then that was a price I'd pay without hesitation.
The walk back to camp gave me time to compose myself. By the time the firelight came into view, my face had settled back into its usual mask of casual confidence. No one would know what had happened in the dunes.
No one would see the blood on my hands.