They walked for a long time, getting deeper into the swamp woods.

  Wandering so deep was not easy; the mud was thicker and deeper, mixed with what Faust hoped was not feces. The trees and their branches arched overhead, forming a natural canopy that blocked most of the moonlight. Seeing even a hand’s length ahead grew harder now—at least for Faust.

  Still, the swamp stretched deeper.

  Faust was both impressed and frightened by the sheer size of the area, by Chris’s strength, and by the fact that he could see no end to both.

  He noticed that the deeper they went, farther from the beacon, the more dogs they found and killed. Of course, he held off from using the sacrifice rune. He was caught in an implicit information war, and by now he wasn’t even sure if Chris had really seen it—yet he wouldn’t risk giving up leverage.

  During this time, he was able to observe Chris.

  Their styles were completely different. While Faust’s was more violent and unrefined, Chris fought with finesse and precision; one strike was usually enough to end the combat.

  In fact, Chris was on another level entirely. He could cut the creatures in half with a single swing while they were still hidden beneath the mud, without even needing to see them or use mana. The whole time Faust followed behind, he didn’t see Chris shed a single drop of blood.

  If a direct fight were to occur, Faust would simply die. Their difference was even greater than he had first imagined. Even without mana, Chris would kill him a thousand times before he could react.

  If mana was actually used, the gap would be like earth and heaven.

  That didn’t mean Faust accepted defeat. Strength was important, but he had won fights before even when weaker. There was always a way, always a chance—he just had to find it...

  As they walked, Chris asked a few random questions or chatted away, while Faust usually answered in monosyllables or short phrases.

  Thankfully, because of that, Faust also learned something important. Apparently, Chris had not appeared in the snow area, confirming what Faust previously feared. He had indeed been there alone, and people could likely appear in different areas of the dungeon.

  This fact made the place even more unpredictable.

  Still, at the moment Faust could only think of all the experience he was missing by not fighting, since Chris handled everything alone and faster than he ever could. Even worse, he missed out on the mana he could have gained by using the sacrifice rune on the beasts.

  I miss being alone…

  But it was what it was.

  Over thirty dog corpses were left behind on their path, and the number only grew.

  Faust was lost in a silent and hopeful prayer to gods he did not adore, wishing his uncle was alive and well, when Chris suddenly stopped in front of him, raising a hand to signal him to halt.

  Immediately, Faust froze and observed.

  Pushing those thoughts aside, Faust focused. Chris had his hand on his sword, ready to strike, though Faust couldn’t tell at what.

  In combat, at least, Chris seemed trustworthy, so he trusted his lead. Faust was sure the man had hidden motives, but until those came to light, he could be relied upon to fight.

  Time passed. Seconds ticked by.

  What is he doing? Is there really something there? Faust squinted, trying to see through the darkness, but it wasn’t enough; the pitch-black horizon frustrated every attempt.

  His hearing caught nothing either.

  Doubtful, Faust was about to move when a sudden wind pressure engulfed his body. A putrid odor attacked his nostrils. Tears welled in his eye, burning as if on fire.

  Though painful, he made no sound. Instead, he unsheathed his Iron-Beak and forced his eye to stay barely open to observe.

  Then, he saw it.

  Only a few meters in front of Chris. Even blurred by tears, its form was unmistakable.

  Over two meters tall, its bulky body was covered in strange grayish fur—so thick it looked more like roots than animal hair.

  Its furless face bore no eyes, no nose, no features at all besides a gaping mouth, from which a thick shadow slowly poured. That same shadow spread along the ground, scattering, creeping closer to Faust.

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  It was the source of the stench.

  Its hands were massive, easily big enough to clutch a man's head and strong enough, judging by the size of its arms, to pop it like soft fruit.

  That creature was far stronger than the dogs they’d been fighting until now.

  Standing before it, Chris murmured just loud enough for Faust to hear.

  “Can you fight?”

  Though the stench and pressure weighed on him, Faust’s mind was steady. He murmured back, “Yes.”

  Chris nodded, eyes never leaving the creature.

  “Alright.”

  Swiftly, Chris rushed toward the monster, aiming at its neck with a clean slash. However, the monster raised its arms; its fur blocked the slash, forcing Chris to step back and retreat.

  Faust gulped. That monster sure seemed undefeatable. Yet the thought of running away didn’t even cross his mind. He was curious, too curious. With a sword in one hand and Iron-Beak in the other, he rushed forward as well.

  Chris attempted another strike at the creature, but the monster opened its mouth. Tendrils of thick shadow escaped from it and touched Chris, causing him to lose focus for just a moment. That was enough for the beast to counter with a brutal slap.

  Chris raised his dark sword in defense, absorbing the blow, but the impact reverberated through his whole body.

  That attack, however, gave Faust an opening. He leapt into the air, aiming for the monster’s featureless face.

  But before his blade could land, the monster sharply turned its head. Faust’s weapon struck fur, causing no damage at all. The monster raised its arm and aimed at his torso.

  “Shi—!” The monster struck Faust’s ribs, sending him flying through the air until he was stopped by a tree. Blood seeped from the back of his head and mouth.

  In a daze, he touched his ribs and confirmed...

  Broken...

  If that wasn’t enough, he could feel his insides had been damaged. Mana could be a curse as well.

  Damn… it!

  Blood poured from his mouth and nose as he struggled to breathe.

  Chris only spared him a glance before rushing the monster again. They exchanged blows, each strike so powerful that mud sprawled everywhere. The air seemed to be cut with each strike, and the dead trees confirmed the fact.

  Meanwhile, Faust could barely keep his eyes open.

  But slowly and painfully, his bones and insides began to recover.

  For a while, Chris and the creature fought on even ground, their exchange mostly balanced. Only after several blows did Chris begin to overwhelm it—the tide of battle shifted in his favor.

  His strikes countered each of the monster’s moves with utmost grace. He also managed to find its weakness, thanks to Faust. Seeing the monster dodge a blow to its head was enough for him to conclude that the areas without fur were vulnerable.

  He was proven correct when he finally landed a horizontal strike on the monster’s face, a blow that exposed flesh and would have split it in half if the broad beast wasn’t so illogically fast.

  Faust lay clutching the Iron-Beak, never letting go even in his weakened state. His mind churned: Why isn’t he using mana? Is this monster not worth it? But he used it against me… and this creature is far stronger.

  The fight raged. Chris’s finesse outmatched the monster’s brute strength and resistance. With a leap that dodged a grotesque strike, Chris descended with momentum, cutting clean through its uncuttable thick fur and severing its arm.

  From the wound, a dark, foul-smelling liquid gushed like a fountain—a shadowy blood that consumed the ground.

  The air seemed to calm. The monster fell silent. The battle appeared won.

  But suddenly, Chris stepped back and retreated to Faust’s side.

  Faust didn’t understand: why fall back when the monster was already crippled? Then he looked again, and the answer became clear.

  The creature spewed shadow from its mouth, engulfing its own body in a dense shroud that spread across the area.

  “Get up!”

  Chris’s voice thundered down at the injured Faust, who struggled to rise but forced himself onto his feet.

  “Don’t get hit again. If you do, you’ll be as good as dead, and I won’t be able to help you.”

  Faust understood immediately. Even if the next blow didn’t kill him outright, it would leave him broken, unable to stand or escape.

  Should I… should I run away?

  The thought was shattered by a sharp popping sound—from the monster.

  “Dodge!”

  Chris shoved Faust aside and jumped the opposite way.

  The monster blitzed through their former position with unbelievable speed, mud blasting into the air in its wake and dead trees shattering apart. But that speed had a cost; the wound at its missing arm poured blood like a river.

  “Just dodge!”

  The shadow-clad beast locked onto Faust and charged again. By pure instinct, he had already thrown himself sideways, barely dodging as the monster blurred past.

  Faust hit the ground hard. More blood spilled from his mouth and nose… his broken ribs still hadn’t fully healed.

  “Gah!” Pain spewed from between his teeth as he once more forced himself up.

  Faust’s mind grew hazier by the minute, his vision blurring further, but he forced every ounce of focus into one thing: dodging.

  The monster turned on him again. Faust rolled and staggered upright, legs trembling.

  It was bleeding heavily—it couldn’t last forever. He held onto that hope.

  Just die, you damn bastard!

  But it was still fast. Too fast. The monster closed the gap in an instant, its mere grasp sending Faust stumbling backward from sheer force that forced more blood out of his body.

  Even a touch nearly crushed him.

  Before he could recover, the creature appeared before him once more. He couldn’t dodge this one.

  Then, from the edge of his vision, golden light surged.

  Mana!

  Chris, faster than the monster itself, cleaved across its chest in a blazing horizontal slash.

  Both he and his blade burned with golden energy.

  The monster was sent flying, crashing into the mud. Its shadow aura flickered, then dissipated.

  Faust’s jaw gaped. Wasn’t that even stronger than he imagined? Is he even human? How is that even possible?

  Still alive but weakened, the beast struggled to rise. An open wound in its chest revealed bizarre organs inside, barely still attached to its body.

  “Kill it!” Faust barked.

  But Chris didn’t move. Instead, his mouth filled with blood, and he collapsed to his knees, holding himself up only by his sword.

  One look was enough for Faust to understand. Chris couldn’t fight anymore.

  Shit! Faust’s eyes flicked between the monster and Chris. Did he overexert himself? Should I use this chance and… no… no humans…

  Faust forced the thought aside. He had to admit it: the man had saved his life—twice, in fact. Alone, he wouldn’t last in this area.

  I will kill it… just don’t die yet, Chris.

  So he ignored everything else. He lowered his stance, Iron-Beak in hand, eyes locked on the wounded monster.

  Faust had made his decision.

  He would finish it alone. He had to.