For the next thirty seconds, Damien and Luka threw everything they had into the offensive. They moved together with effortless synchronicity, their attacks blending as if they shared the same mind. Blades flashed, feet pivoted, strikes fell in perfect rhythm.
If they were fighting a grade one beast—or even a grade two—the battle would have already been over.
But the monster before them wasn't so easily felled.
The grade three goblin danced through their onslaught with terrifying ease, evading their strikes and launching vicious counters in return. Its movements were too fast, almost mocking; neither Damien nor Luka could land a clean blow, nor could they fully dodge the beast's clawed retaliation.
If they had been fighting alone, it would've been a massacre.
But they weren't.
Every time the goblin's claws came close to tearing through them, a golden bubble of light materialized in its path, slowing its momentum just enough for them to slip away. Summer's power kept them alive by the skin of their teeth.
"Screw this," Luka growled, breathless, after barely dodging another swipe.
Without waiting, he kicked into overdrive.
A crack echoed through the air as he propelled himself upward, using the very air itself as a springboard. He became a blur—one moment above the goblin, the next at its flank, then behind it, then circling again.
To Damien and Summer, Luka's figure was a smearing shadow, too fast to follow.
But to the goblin, Luka's movements might as well have been in slow motion.
Luka angled downward, a meteor about to strike, aiming for the creature's blind spot just behind its head. His blade gleamed with deadly intent.
But at the last possible second, the goblin twisted with unnatural speed, turning to meet him head-on.
Its claws lashed out, aiming straight for Luka's exposed gut.
Luka didn't stand a chance. His sword thrust missed as the goblin sidestepped, and its wicked claws were now only inches from ripping through him.
But Luka wasn't fighting alone.
Damien materialized behind the goblin, his blade humming with a crackling arc of lightning, poised to take the creature's head in one clean strike.
The goblin froze, caught between death and death, no room left to maneuver.
A cold smile broke across Damien's face.
"Got you, bastard," he muttered, voice low and satisfied.
The goblin, however, refused to die quietly.
Its free arm flicked backwards, almost lazily—and three long bone knives shot from its wrist, aimed directly at Damien's skull.
Damien, too focused, too sure of victory, never saw them coming.
Summer's defense was near miraculous, but even she had limits. The trio was moving too fast, the battlefield a blur she could barely track.
She barely managed to throw up a golden bubble in front of the bone knives, slowing them enough for Damien to knock them aside with a frantic sweep of his sword.
But she was too late to stop the real attack.
No golden bubble appeared in front of the goblin's outstretched claws.
With a sickening sound, they rammed straight through Luka's stomach, the monstrous hand bursting out of his back in a spray of blood. His sword clattered uselessly to the ground as his body went limp.
Luka collapsed, lifeless, a gaping hole torn clean through him.
Damien's blood turned to ice.
A raw, blood-curdling scream tore from his throat.
"LUKAAAA!"
The sight of Luka's crumpled body—lifeless, bleeding out on the ground—hit Damien like a hammer to the chest.
Panic and terror clawed up his throat. For a moment, he thought he might vomit; the next, he thought he might break down sobbing right there on the battlefield.
However, he didn't have time for either.
The goblin loomed over Luka's body, its jaws stretching wide, ready to tear into him like meat.
Eyes burning, vision blurred with tears, Damien reacted on instinct.
A furious bolt of lightning ripped from his hand, striking the beast and forcing it back with a screech of rage.
Through the haze of panic, he caught a glimpse of Summer.
She stood frozen, her face drained of all color, her eyes wide with naked horror. For a split second, she looked like a terrified child—small, helpless, overwhelmed.
"Grab him!" Damien roared.
Summer jerked as if waking from a nightmare.
Golden light flared around her hands, and in a blink, a shimmering bubble snapped into existence around Luka's broken form. With a desperate yank, she dragged him across the ground toward her, away from the beast's snapping jaws.
Tears streaked down her cheeks as she knelt beside him, pressing trembling hands against the bleeding wound as if she could somehow hold him together.
"He's not dead—but he's in critical condition!" she shouted, her voice cracking.
The words hit Damien like a defibrillator, shocking his heart back into motion. Relief surged through him—hot, overwhelming—Luka wasn't dead.
But that fragile relief was fleeting.
The goblin was still there, pacing like a caged predator, its cruel gaze flickering between Damien and the wounded boy it had nearly claimed.
Damien's muscles refused to move—not from exhaustion, but from paralyzing fear.
The beast had nearly killed Luka without even trying.
And now, Damien stood alone against it.
However, whether by pure luck or something else entirely, a long, guttural howl tore through the ruins like a knife.
Damien's head snapped toward the sound—and froze.
Standing ten meters to the goblin's left was a massive, wolf-like creature.
It had no flesh, no muscle—only a skeleton stitched together by unseen magic, each bone gleaming under the broken light. It stood as tall as a car, ribs yawning open like the gates of death itself—empty eye sockets burned with a faint, malevolent glow.
Damien's blood turned colder still, but this time not from fear—recognition jolted through him like a bolt of lightning.
'A Bonehowler,' he thought sharply, muscles tensing. 'Grade Two.'
His hands tightened around the hilt of his sword, uncertain whether the new arrival was enemy or savior. He braced himself for the worst.
But the Bonehowler didn't lunge at him.
With a vicious snarl that rattled the rubble, it hurled itself straight at the goblin.
Bone and flesh collided in a violent brawl, dust and shards of stone erupting around them as the beasts fought for dominance. Savage snarls, snapping bones, and guttural roars filled the air.
The shock of it broke the last chains of terror clamped around Damien's heart.
Adrenaline roared through him.
"Run wild!" he barked out.
The lightning inside him answered with a deafening crack. His veins ignited, glowing even brighter, and he felt the surge of power triple in an instant—reckless, destructive, alive.
Without hesitation, Damien shot forward—not toward the monsters, but toward Summer.
Before she could even form a word, Damien swooped her off her feet.
Instinct took over. Summer snapped her arms onto Luka's broken body and encased all of them inside a glimmering golden bubble, the faintest shield against the chaos erupting behind them.
They fled into the ruins, Damien leading the way, lightning flashing from his body with every step.
He weaved through collapsed walls, shattered streets, and jagged stone, his breath ragged but relentless. Pain screamed through his muscles. He could feel his body burning itself alive from the inside out, every pulse of lightning tearing him apart.
But he couldn't stop.
Not now.
Their survival hung on two threads:
How fast Damien could get them to the lake, and how long the Bonehowler could hold the goblin at bay.
'Faster,' he willed himself, teeth gritted so hard they ached. 'I need to go faster.'
A mocking, insufferable voice oozed into his mind.
"Running from a Grade Three? How pathetic. Back in my day, they were nothing but flies."
Damien almost screamed in frustration.
'Shut up!' he snapped inwardly. 'Not now. If I don't get us out of here, we're all dead—including you!'
He expected more sarcasm. More taunts. Instead, something shifted inside him—subtle but undeniable.
The agony in his bones began to fade. His muscles stopped shredding with every step. His heartbeat steadied, and his movements grew smoother and faster.
For a breathless second, he felt almost... free.
Then the old bastard's voice chuckled once more, warm with grudging approval.
"Fine, boy. Just this once, I'll carry your burden."