The cavern shuddered as the Razorfang Chieftain roared, its cry rolling through the hive like a storm.
The hunters braced themselves, shields rising, weapons gleaming under the crimson glow of the dungeon core.
Adrian stood near the edge of the formation, calm where others shook. His gauntlets, black metal threaded with faint veins of light, hummed softly against his skin.
The Chieftain charged.
Its club slammed into the vanguard, shields rattling, men thrown back. The formation wavered. Cries rang out.
Adrian's eyes narrowed. Stones on the ground lifted, pulled into orbit by invisible strings. Telekinesis. Cost: 40 mana. Remaining: 1,660.
He released them, sending the barrage across the battlefield, not at the guardian but near the staggering shield line. The distraction was enough. A shield slipped.
The Chieftain's next swing smashed through the gap, splintering bone and steel.
The leader shouted for order, struggling to rally them.
Adrian exhaled slowly, gaze never leaving the flow of battle. To anyone watching, he seemed like a quiet support.
Only Nyxil, murmuring in his mind, saw the threads he tugged. You always find the seams, little one. Pull them, and everything unravels.
His lips curved faintly. "That's the idea."
The guardian pressed forward, crushing another man beneath its charge. Adrian darted sideways, shadows rippling from his gauntlets.
His hand flicked. A discarded blade flew up, slashing across the Chieftain's ankle. Telekinesis. Cost: 20 mana. Remaining: 1,640.
The beast staggered, roar shaking dust from the cavern ceiling.
"Now! Attack!" the leader bellowed.
The hunters surged. Steel and spells bit deep, sparks flying. For a moment, it looked like their strength alone carried the fight.
But Adrian's subtle nudges shifted everything. An arrow redirected mid-flight, a spell's trajectory corrected just enough to strike true. To his allies, it was luck. To Adrian, it was precision.
The guardian's crimson eye locked on him suddenly. The weight of its killing intent bore down.
Adrian didn't flinch. He raised both hands. Mana surged. Charm Aura: Activate. Cost: 50 mana. Drain: 5/sec.
The air thickened. The hunters' panic dulled, their motions sharpened. They fought with unnatural resolve, though none noticed the influence.
Nyxil chuckled in his thoughts. "They would worship you if they knew. "
Adrian said nothing. His gauntlets burned with shadow, and he stepped forward as the Chieftain's massive club descended.
Impact.
His strike met the blow mid-arc, shadow energy erupting. The collision sent him skidding backward, arms trembling from the force. His health bar flickered. Shadow Gauntlet Strike: 80 mana. Remaining: 1,510.
The guardian reeled, momentum broken.
The hunters pressed in, emboldened. Blood flew as blades tore into weakened armor. Adrian slipped into the fray with quiet precision, not leading, not boasting, just bending the rhythm of the battle where it needed to bend.
Minutes stretched into a brutal dance. More hunters fell, crushed or torn apart, but the tide slowly turned.
Adrian uncorked a crystal vial and drank deep. Aetheric Elixir, blue light flooding his veins. +300 mana restored. Remaining: 1,810.
"Tsk, money does make life easier " Nylix said.
His hands moved like a conductor's, pulling broken weapons, sharp stones, and even shards of bone into orbit. Telekinetic projectiles spiraled in unison.
"Fall," he whispered, voice barely audible.
The storm struck the guardian's chest, shattering bone plates. The Chieftain stumbled, crimson eye flaring wide with rage.
Adrian darted in, shadows surging across his gauntlets. His blow pierced the cracked armor, black energy exploding outward.
The Razorfang Chieftain roared one last time before collapsing, its massive frame crashing into the stone floor. Dust and blood filled the air.
Adrian straightened, shadows fading from his gauntlets. His breath was steady, but when he looked down, his expression shifted.
The black metal of his gauntlets was smeared with thick, dark blood, still warm and reeking.
He grimaced, "ughh, " almost like he wanted to vomit.
With a sharp flick, he shook his hands, droplets of gore splattering across the stone. The blood clung stubbornly to the etched grooves of the artifact, making his lip curl in faint disgust.
He rubbed the edge of one gauntlet against the wall, wiping away the worst of it, as if the stain itself offended him more than the battle.
"Still squeamish," Nyxil teased softly in his mind.
Adrian exhaled, his jaw tightening. "I prefer things clean. Nothing more."
The hunters, still reeling from the fight, didn't notice. Some clapped his shoulder, voices rising in relief and awe.
Adrian gave them quiet nods, masking his distaste, letting the blood dry where it couldn't be scrubbed away.
Inside, though, the sensation lingered, the sticky weight of the monster's life on his hands. A reminder that strength always left stains.
He flexed his fingers once more, shadows flickering faintly. "Effortless isn't free. But it's worth it."
Nyxil purred warmly in reply. And you wear it well, child. Even if you don't like the mess.