Back on Earth, they say "Sleep is the golden chain that ties health and our bodies together". It's true. I did not become this strong by just pushing myself to the limit. I ate well and slept eight hours a day. Working out destroys your muscles. Sleeping makes them grow back stronger. It's why I try to keep a consistent sleep routine whenever I can.
That night I did not sleep.
I stared out at the sea for hours until dawn broke. After that, I left with the wind.
It's not like I'm devastated by the death of the still unnamed man by the beach. I am sad, but at this point I've seen too much death that every other sadness inside me just melded with it.
Still, I couldn't look away from the waves. They calmed me, gave me space to think. I felt like it helped me put out the fires of conflict inside me. Back on Earth, we made it an unwritten rule: me and my girlfriend would not sleep without resolving the core of why we were in conflict. Sometimes it took all night without sleeping, just trying to understand each other, being mature and choosing the right words. Sometimes it doesn't work. But the next morning, we would try again.
I stared at the sea for the same reason. Not to reconcile with her—but with my own demons. With the parts of me I keep at war. Today, the waves quieted them. But they aren't gone. They're never gone.
Sometimes, it isn't just my muscles that need recovery. Sometimes, it's my soul.
Sometimes the best way to heal your soul is to sit and reflect.
Other times, it's punching something really, really hard.
Baboom.
Which explains why I'm currently beating the shit out of a giant dragon.
Crunch.
Well—trying. It's beating me back too. Strongest man alive or not, dragons are still tough sons of bitches.
"Fuck! Benjamin! Did you get fatter or something?" I shouted as his tail whipped past my head.
"I did! Thank you! I ate a lot to become fatter!" the massive green dragon bellowed, flashing his terrifying grin.
I kicked him square in the face. He toppled.
"That explains why you're so damn slow! Hahaha!" I threw my arms on my hips, laughing like a megalomaniac villain. Oof. A wing blindsided me. So unfair. Why do they get seven limbs to my four?
"I'm not slow! I'm powering up!" Benjamin roared, heaving himself upright. His chest swelled.
"Oh, magic now? Fine! I got something new for you too! Careful—you might actually die from this!" I hollered, half joking.
Benjamin exhaled with the fury of a thousand suns. Flame swept the battlefield, soil turning molten, sand shattering into obsidian. The world became fire.
But I wasn't there.
I bent my knee, and in that instant warped into a streak of light. Benjamin's eyes went wide. Never seen me use magic before, huh?!
Then I missed.
"You missed! Hahaha!" he bellowed.
"Fuuuck—!" Gravity took me. I flailed mid-air while Benjamin squinted at me like I was the dumbest creature alive. His throat glowed again.
"Oh come on—that's so not fair!" I screamed as the next torrent came.
I warped again. Somehow it accelerated my fall. His fire seared empty sky, and I slammed into the earth hard enough to crater it. This time, I bent my knee just right.
And I didn't miss.
A punch at Mach-craploads smashed Benjamin across the jaw. The shockwave alone shredded what was left of the battlefield. If anything was alive before, it sure as hell wasn't now. Benjamin hit the ground with a seismic thud.
"I win!" I declared.
With a groan, the dragon hauled himself back up. "Ughhh… alright. You win this time."
He was fine. Tough bastard. His healing spells would patch him up before I even left.
"That really pumped me up. Thanks, Ben."
"Yeah, yeah. I'm keeping score. I'll get fatter and stronger next time."
Benjamin was one of my oldest friends. Dragons respected strength, and unlike most, they could actually take a hit—and return one. It was the perfect arrangement. Every so often, I dropped by for a spar. My idea of a good workout.
"Speaking of getting fatter," I said, "how's the food? Done yet?"
Ben lumbered toward the giant octopus roasting in the distance and sniffed.
"Smells done. Maybe a little extra rock seasoning, but fine."
"Good enough." I grinned. I'd snagged the octopus on my way here. Ocean diving had its perks—you never knew if you'd find dinner, or stumble on some rare space-warping creature.
As we ate—Ben getting the lion's share, of course—I asked, "So, Ben. Any news about space-warping shenanigans lately? Particularly of the cave variety?"
I wasn't here just for the spar. Rumors had reached me about a strange cave.
Ben slurped up a tentacle the size of a tree trunk and shook his head. "There's no dungeon there, John. I checked."
He still thought I was dungeon-hunting.
"Oh, I'm not looking for a dungeon. I'm after space-warping creatures."
That earned me a massive reptilian side-eye.
"See this?" I lifted my leg and showed him the tattoo etched into my skin. "Got Julius and an infernal named Areva to carve this beauty. I'm a magic man now!"
Ben lowered his enormous head until one golden eye was level with me. He studied the runes carefully. "That's some tight work. I think I ate some people with something similar a while ago." He paused. "Don't remember where they are now."
Knowing dragons, "a while ago" probably meant a century.
"Wait—you've fought runic warriors before?" I asked, my curiosity sparking.
"Yeah. They were tough. One had fists that exploded. Another could grow larger mid-fight. Most were blisteringly fast." His teeth glinted as he grinned. "The big one was very tasty."
I stared at him.
Yeah. That tracks. Maybe runic warriors didn't just fall out of favor because traditional spellcasting is more versatile. Maybe Benjamin here ate the competition.
"Anyway, about that space cave?" I cut him off before the drooling turned into a waterfall.
Benjamin's jaw worked around a tentacle as he spoke. "Yeah, there is a cave that suddenly opened up. Heard some people tried to wander there a while back—you know, be the first to map the cool new hole in the ground." Another wet slurp.
I leaned forward. "And?"
He swallowed, then flicked his tail dismissively. "Most of them never came back. Alive, at least. Some of the bodies showed up hours later, miles away. All dried up, like the blood had been sucked right out of them."
I raised a brow. "And you didn't check it out?"
Benjamin shuddered, an impressive feat for a mountain-sized lizard. "I'm too big for the cave. And what if there was something creepy in there? Like a cat!"
Now a body moving that far, that fast? Good chance it's spatial manipulation. Worth checking out.
"Where is it?"
"It's in the wildlands," Ben said, licking a tentacle clean. "So the location's probably shifted by now. But I heard there was an expedition headed that way. Some kids went in the hole, and their bodies haven't been seen. They're taking the chance to see if they can save anyone."
"And where's this expedition?"
"Oh, it's right there." He casually flicked his tail behind me.
I turned, and sure enough, there was a group of riders on the road. How did I miss a dozen horses clopping by? Guess that says something about how distracting a dragon dinner can be.
"Great. Thanks, Ben. I'll catch up with them." I stretched my legs, already feeling the itch to run. "Don't eat the rest of the octopus without me."
Ben grinned, teeth gleaming. "No promises."
I broke into a jog, weaving in a few warps as practice. Mostly practice, since I was still bad at it. From the look of the riders ahead, they must've thought some monster was barreling down on them—reins yanked tight, hands already drifting to weapons.
"Hey! Don't stab me, I'm friendly!" I shouted, both hands raised. My voice boomed across the field, loud enough that the nearest horse nearly bucked its rider.
The group slowed, exchanging wary glances. A man at the front urged his mount forward. Sharp-eyed, hair tied back, posture that screamed veteran of too many battles.
"You just came out of the danger zone," he said flatly. Not a question.
"Danger zone?" I echoed.
"The desert behind you. There's a dragon there. Signs everywhere warning idiots not to wander in unless they wanted to end up reptilian fecal matter."
I felt a bead of sweat trail down my cheek. "Didn't see him. Must've been away." Why was I even lying?
"I know you're lying."
"What—how?!"
"Because I can see the dragon from here. Hard to miss a mountain-sized lizard, especially with my eyes."
I turned. Sure enough, Benjamin was still parked in the sand, slurping tentacle meat. Hard to see without good eyesight. Either this guy had vision like mine, or he was using a spell. Internal spells worked mostly fine around me.
The man's composure never cracked, though I saw his knuckles whiten on the reins. "What exactly do you want with us?"
I laughed sheepishly. "Heard you're heading toward that cave. The one with the missing kids and the dried-out corpses." I tilted my head toward the road. "I've got a personal interest in whatever's causing it. Mind if I tag along? I'm very good at not dying." I tried my best people-pleaser smile.
There was a pause. His eyes narrowed. "You from around here, stranger?"
"No. Why?"
"You've got almost no supplies. No weapons. No horse. And you just walked out of dragon territory unharmed."
"Yes?"
"Not a question." His gaze sharpened. "You also carry yourself with far too much confidence—even with a dozen of my people ready to bury you at a word." He leaned forward slightly. "Which means…"
"Which means?"
"Which means it's in my best interest to stay friendly with you."
Smart man.
He signaled his riders to stand down and extended a hand. "Captain Vance Veylen. And you are?"
I smiled. "John Delinger."
I heard some gasps over that. Right. Sometimes I forget I'm famous.
"John Delinger." Vance said my name like a verdict. His eyes locked on me. "I've heard the stories. That you're the mightiest man alive. I've also heard about your condition, your aura of magebane."
He let the silence stretch before continuing. "Right now, our primary mission is to head into that hole and save whoever can still be saved. To do that, we need our searching spells, healing spells, and wards to protect ourselves. We need every ounce of synergy my people can muster. If I let you come with us, I gain one man—highly effective, yes—but the rest of my team will be gutted in terms of ability. If I don't let you in, I lose that one man, but the rest of my people stay sharp, coordinated, and at their best."
His voice dropped into something iron. "I'll take the second option. You will not follow us into that hole."
It stung. But he was right. I nodded once. "Understood."
Vance's expression remained the same. "However, that's not our only mission. If we cannot save anyone down there, then our secondary mission is to destroy whatever is causing this. And that—" he fixed me with a look that weighed as much as any order I'd ever received—"I believe you're the man for." A pause. "We can't pay you with anything but gratitude. Do I have your commitment to this role, John Delinger?"
I straightened, soldier to captain. "Yes, sir."
"Good. Then let's move. We already lost time."
"Actually I might have an idea for that." I grinned a bit.
A few screams and retched stomachs later, the group was gathered near the hole. I had carried them one by one, warping at full tilt to cut the journey short. They recovered quickly; Vance didn't give them time to dwell.
"Check supplies! Lights, weapons, ropes. Lysa, you're point. Dorian, get stretchers ready. The rest of you—positions!" His voice cracked like a whip.
Then his gaze settled on me. "John. You stay far enough that your aura doesn't affect us—but close enough to watch the entrance. If you can hear us, even better. If I give the word, you don't hesitate. You go in, get everyone out, and you save lives before anything else. Am I understood?"
"Yes, sir."
He nodded once. "Good. People! Mean faces on. We're going in."
They moved with the kind of precision only veterans have. I knew my part, too. Stay sharp, stay ready, and wait for the call.
With a warp, I was gone—perched high on a mountain, eyes locked on the cave mouth like a hawk.
Vance and his people went in. I sat there, muscles tensed, ready to act at any sign of danger.
The cave didn't move.
I watched it anyway. Hours, maybe. The sun crawled across the sky, shadows stretched, and still I sat, eyes locked on that ragged mouth in the rock.
Nothing came out. No screams, no survivors, no monsters. Just silence. The kind that presses in until it feels like your own heartbeat is too loud.
Every second itched. My leg twitched. My rune pulsed, faint and impatient. One warp and I'd be there. Two and I'd be inside. I told myself that a dozen times. A hundred. Maybe more.
But Vance's words held me in place. If you go in, you cripple us. If you stay out, you save us.
I hated that he was right.
I hated waiting.
I hated doing nothing.
The silence turned into a weight. It pressed against my chest, my skull, my bones. It whispered temptations. What if they're already dead? What if you could change it? What if they need you now?
But I stayed. Because sometimes discipline is sharper than instinct.
The sun dipped lower. The cave grew darker, hungrier. I stared until my eyes burned.
Then—finally—movement. A flicker of light from the mouth. Then another. Then two quick bursts.
It was them. A figure appeared by the mouth of the cave. Dirty, sweaty. Lysa, if I remember correctly. She was dragging someone on a stretcher. She turned towards my direction and shouted something. I understood the words she was mouthing before even the sound hit my direction.
Danger. Now.
My heart kicked hard. The wait was over.
I rose in an instant, muscles wound tight, rune alive with heat under my skin. All that gnawing stillness shattered.
They needed me.
And I was already moving.
The world folded, stretched—then snapped back.
I hit the cavern floor in a burst of warped light, boots skidding against slick stone. The smell hit first: damp, iron, venom, rot. Then the sight.
Webs. Gods above, everywhere. They sheeted the walls, thick cords strung across the ceiling like bridges, tangling the ground into a deathtrap. White strands gleamed under the glow of spell-lights the expedition had flung into the dark, sticky and suffocating.
And in the middle of that nightmare was the spider.
Huge, black-chitin legs stabbed in and out of reality, slipping through strands like doorways. One moment it clung to the ceiling, the next it burst from the wall at Vance's flank, mandibles clacking. When it moved, it didn't leap—it vanished, reappearing wherever its webs touched. The cavern itself was its hunting ground, and it was everywhere at once.
"John!" Vance's voice cracked through the chaos. He was at the front, sword flashing arcs of steel and sparks, holding the monster's focus. He fought like someone who knew he was the wall between life and annihilation. Every strike he made was answered by a sudden lunge—fangs erupting from the dark as the spider blinked from strand to strand, always a half-step from gutting him.
The others fought like hell to keep up. Lysa's light spells flared against the dark, scorching strands of web. Dorian hacked ropes to free comrades before the sticky cords sealed them in. Arrows and spells streaked, but too many struck nothing but air as the spider vanished into silk tunnels and reappeared from impossible angles.
And still—by some miracle—they were all alive. Battered, cut, green venom sizzling on shields and stone, but alive.
The spider reared back, and every strand in the cavern shivered. Threads hummed like bowstrings, vibrating with its magic. And I realized, clear as breath: the webs weren't just its lair. They were its dominion. Its highway. Its weapon.
All that thought took me less than a second.
Vance shouted over his shoulder, teeth bared in a snarl. "Delinger! Take its damned legs before it takes us!"
One kick—and I was flying. Air ripped around me, my rune flaring bright. "No need to worry," I shouted, voice booming in the cavern. I've always wanted to say this!
"I AM HERE!"
My fist slammed into the spider. Chitin shattered like brittle glass, green blood bursting across stone and web alike. The shockwave shook the cavern, threads snapping and curling from the force. The spider convulsed once, then collapsed into its own ichor, spraying the cavern floor green.
Silence fell.
The battle was over. We won.
Damn I look cool right now.