-CRASH!!!!!
-BOOM!!!!
-SHRINGGG!!!!!!!
-@##RRRRRR!!
Carnage.
Absolute carnage filled the grounds of the Sword Tomb. No matter where one looked, destruction ruled without pause. Demons rained attacks from the sky, tearing through the battlefield with overwhelming force, crushing stone golems beneath them as if they were nothing more than brittle statues.
In response, the golems struck back with terrifying power, launching spear shaped chunks of compressed rock that pierced through the air and made the unfortunate demons explode like blood filled balloons.
The scene was brutal, chaotic, and merciless.
Amidst all of this, Ash moved with relentless urgency. His speed was nearly blinding, his figure slipping from one shadow to another so smoothly that it felt as if he had merged with the darkness itself. His movements were fluid and precise, making it impossible for anyone to track his position for more than a moment.
...I am very near to my destination....
The density of swords around him had increased drastically. Blades were embedded everywhere, piercing the ground, rocks, and even the remains of fallen monsters. The air itself felt heavy with their presence. This was the clearest sign that he was approaching the heart of the dungeon, the place where the boss awaited.
His journey so far could be summed up with few words.
Running without getting caught.
What made this possible was the black cloak wrapped around his body and the vast number of items he stole from the black market.
**
Weapon Name: Cloak of Darkness
Rank: S (Legendary)
Description:
Abilities:
- Shadow Assimilation: Allows the wearer to blend seamlessly with surrounding shadows, remaining concealed whether in motion or at rest.
--
This was one of the most useful artifacts he had stolen from the black market, and in this situation, its worth was beyond measure.
The Cloak of Darkness allowed Ash to melt into the shadows of mountains, shattered terrain, and sword filled land without alerting a single enemy.
Even so, no artifact was perfect. There was always a chance of being discovered. That was why Ash never lingered in one place for long, always moving, always shifting.
With the help of a haste potion that boosted his agility by fifty percent for few minutes, he ran with everything he had. Whenever fatigue began to slow him down, he drank a recovery potion, restoring his stamina quickly and allowing him to continue without losing momentum.
If he wanted to, he could have launched sneak attacks on the demons. With Eclipse’s Life Drain skill, he could have easily recovered stamina and saved his potions. But Ash did not bother with that.
He had more than enough resources, and right now conserving them was not his priority.
Whenever shadows were scarce, he relied on invisibility potions. His scent remained completely undetectable thanks to the scent erasing powder covering his body.
The presence of demons was dangerous, no doubt about it, and any mistake could expose him instantly. Still, the situation was not entirely against him.
Ash was in danger, that much was true, but there was also a clear advantage.
He did not need to fight.
He had never forgotten why he came here. His goal was the Rune, not battle. With his skills unavailable and his mana pathways destroyed, letting the demons and dungeon monsters slaughter each other while he slipped through unnoticed was the smartest and safest option available to him.
....The golems are almost finished, and the number of demons has dropped by a noticeable amount, but still.....they are far too many...
Demons, with their wings, held an unnatural advantage in combat, and this outcome was unavoidable.
Soon enough, the carnage raging around him began to slow. The deafening clashes faded one by one, attacks becoming fewer and farther apart, a clear sign that the golems had been completely wiped out.
Along with that silence, Ash noticed a massive elevated platform in the distance. It stood isolated, surrounded by towering mountains on all sides, leaving only a single narrow path as an entrance. The platform itself was ancient. Whatever structures once stood upon it had been shattered long ago, their remains worn down and rugged by the passage of time, carrying the weight of countless forgotten battles.
Above the platform lay the corpses of nearly twenty pseudo legendary rank demons, their bodies twisted and broken. The rest of the demons were still fighting, all of them focused on a lone knight standing at the center.
The knight was roughly two meters tall. His golden brown blade moved like an embodiment of destruction itself, cutting through the air with terrifying precision. His black knight armor was riddled with dents and fractures, scars left behind by more than fifty demons attacking him relentlessly from a distance. Not a single demon dared to approach him directly.
Yet the knight showed no hesitation. He dodged most of the attacks with sharp, practiced movements, then leaped toward the nearest demon, slaying it cleanly or narrowly missing and retreating once more. The battle felt less like a direct confrontation and more like a deadly game of hide and seek, where one mistake meant death.
...Of course the boss monster will be skilled...it is the boss after all.....but in the long run....the demons will still win, they hold too much of an advantage....
Ash’s eyes were cold as he observed the scene. His heart, however, remained heavy, still burdened by grief from the deaths of the unicorn couple. He clenched his jaw and forced those emotions down. Right now, he could not allow himself to spiral into weakness.
....Sometimes I wish I had no emotions, they are nothing but a burden...
The thought made him slow down for a bit.
He was being hypocritical.
When he first transmigrated, his emotions had dulled to almost nothing. He had become cold, detached, nearly emotionless, and at that time, he had longed desperately to feel again.
Now that emotions had returned, he wished they would disappear.
A self deprecating smile formed on his face, laced with pain and bitterness. He was mocking himself, fully aware of his own contradictions.
...It is not just me, that is simply how humans are. Hypocrites to the bone..
His thoughts did not stop there.
...Emotions are tools, nothing more. They can push one forward or drag one into the abyss, depending on who holds the reins...
...The problem was never emotions themselves, but my inability to control them when it mattered the most...
...Grief, anger, regret, longing. Each of them claims to be righteous, each demands to be heard, and yet none of them will take responsibility when they lead you to ruin...
His gaze sharpened as he looked back at the battlefield.
...If I let them rule me, I die. If I suppress them completely, I become hollow. Balance is the only answer, even if it cuts deeper than either extreme...
Survival does not care about feelings. Power does not reward sincerity. The world only acknowledges results.
So I will carry my hypocrisy, my grief, and my emotions all the same, but they will walk behind me, not ahead. I cannot let them steer my path.
His gaze drifted back to the battlefield, watching demons and knight collide in endless violence. The chaos around him was indifferent to grief, to fear, to hope.
Only intent mattered, only the hand that wields it.
Intent decides everything. Can a knife be evil? In peace, it slices bread. In rage, it spills blood. The blade does not choose. The hand does. The same is true for emotions. Love can build, hatred can destroy, yet both are born from the same heart.
Weak people are ruled by them. Strong people use them. And those who understand this truth do not complain about their nature. They accept it, shoulder it, and move forward, regardless of how ugly it may be.
I have learned this through pain, through loss, and through witnessing the consequences of letting emotion decide my fate. I have felt the sharp edge of grief, the corrosive burn of anger, and the hollow pull of regret. All of it taught me that the world will not pause for reflection, and that power demands clarity above all else.
Emotions are neither allies nor enemies. They are instruments. One must learn to strike with them or to set them aside when necessary. To falter is human. To endure, to command oneself despite that faltering, is something formidable. That is the only way to survive. That is the only way to win.
Ash exhaled slowly, his gaze sharpening as the chaos ahead stretched before him. Whatever the cost, he would not stop here.
...Let me give that lone knight some help...
He did not falter in his sprint. The distance to the elevated platform was still considerable, but he retrieved something from his space ring. It was small, a perfectly white spherical orb, unassuming in appearance, yet it was one of the most devastating weapons ever crafted.
When it detonates, it does not destroy physical surroundings. Instead, it destabilizes energy within a radius of over a dozen kilometers, rendering anyone caught in its reach unable to harness even the tiniest shred of their mana or energy for sometime.
....,,At least, it has never failed before, according to the rumors. If it works as said, it should also disrupt demonic energy...
Ash’s mind was precise, calculating. The goal was to thin the numbers of the powerful demons as much as possible. There was no telling when he might have to face them directly. He could handle Archdemons—A rank—but engaging multiple enemies far beyond his capability without mana was a risk he had no intention of taking.
Even if he can’t die doesn’t mean he can’t get caught.
...Let’s start...
As soon as he closed the distance to the platform, he pressed a small button on the sphere and hurled it with unerring precision. The orb cut through the air with a sharp whistling sound, alerting the demons above, yet its speed was unmatched due to the power behind the throw.
Before any of them could react, it reached the heart of their formation, and....
-Click!
-BOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!
****