Dominic's breath came in shallow ragged gasps. He had felt his ribs broken and a deep throb pulsed inside his skull as the warning of a concussion a moment earlier.
He shouldn't be able to move. He shouldn't even be conscious after being hurled around like a rag doll like that.
Yet he was able to stand and move fast to escape death. And he had wounded that monster.
That should have been impossible.
The creature roared again, the sound vibrating through the chamber walls. The force of it jarred him out of his daze.
Now was not the time to think or question. He must run and hide first, distance himself from the monster.
Dominic darted away and slipped behind a narrow stone pillar. His heart hammered so loudly he feared the monster might hear it.
He pressed one trembling hand against his chest. The two streaks of pale grey light… He could still feel where they had struck him.
"What were those…?" he whispered under his breath.
They must have been important. The moment they shot into him, the pain in his body had been reduced so much and he was even able to move with a sharpness he had never known.
He swallowed hard, his mind racing. He was certain that he was inside the Labyrinth now. So, could that have been a power from the Labyrinth?
But if so why did it come to him on its own? Wasn't he supposed to find it and struggle for that power?
That was what Grandpa had always said.
The Labyrinth was ancient, mysterious, and unpredictable. A vault of powers, artifacts, and beings beyond understanding. Anyone who entered—commoner or noble—needed to fight for whatever they hoped to gain.
Nothing was ever freely given.
The stronger one's Bloodmark, the more danger one could survive, and the greater the reward one could seize.
That was why nobles walked in boldly, and lowborn like Dominic weren't expected to make it far. That was why he needed a useful Bloodmark to be able to enter.
That was why he needed a strong Bloodmark, so that he could fight his way upward, earn status, and finally secure a decent life for him and his grandpa.
But then what was this?
He thought of Grandpa and his warnings, stories, and superstition.
Perhaps Grandpa didn't know everything. Perhaps no one did.
Or… perhaps this phenomenon wasn't something meant to be found by normal explorers at all.
Something had called him here and guided him. Something had sent those streaks of power into him as if he were a vessel waiting to be filled.
Dominic clenched his jaw. Questions piled and tangled inside his head, but the monster's growl dragged him back to reality.
It was searching for him.
He peeked around the pillar. The monster's elongated form hunched in the center of the room, sniffing the air, its glowing eyes sweeping the chamber.
Dominic's fingers tightened around his knife.
Whatever had happened to him—whatever had awakened inside him—it wasn't finished yet. He could feel a pressure and restless whisper running up his spine, urging him to move.
Then he noticed something pulsing faintly on the back of his right hand.
Two tiny shapes like symbols had appeared beneath his skin. At first they looked like faint bruises, but the longer he stared, the more clearly they formed.
One of them was sharp and angular, shaped like a jagged arrowhead pointing forward. The other one was curled like a crescent veil, slender and flowing.
He frowned. He had never seen markings like these.
Both shapes throbbed softly with greyish light. The veins and blood vessels around them glimmered with a pale grey glow as well.
A chill rushed through him.
"This… must be the power."
Dominic felt a smile tug at his lips despite the terror still clawing at his throat. This had to be it, the power of the Labyrinth. The very thing he'd come to find.
This wasn't a Bloodmark he was born with.
Grandpa had always said there were three sources of power in the world. One was the Bloodmark, granted when one was born. The other two… both were tied to the Labyrinth, but he couldn't remember their names.
It didn't matter now.
What mattered was that he could use this.
Dominic grinned quietly, chest heaving with the rush of adrenaline and hope.
He glanced at the shapes again with focused gaze, and suddenly, something was inserted into his mind. A burst of information, instinct, and meaning he did not learn but simply knew.
The jagged arrowhead shape was a power that sharpened movement, turning steps and reflex into speed until it looked like blurs.
The crescent veil was a power that softened presence, slipping awareness from the senses of others and bending attention away so that he wouldn't be easily detected or found.
The knowledge forced itself into him wordlessly, as if the symbols themselves whispered their purpose.
"So I won't be easy to find," Dominic realized, he thought with excitement.
He risked a glance around the pillar.
The monster was still there. Its hunched frame twisting left and right. It sniffed the air, head jerking in sharp snaps. Its yellow eyes slid over the chamber again and again…
But never fixed on him.
It truly couldn't find him.
Dominic's grin widened, a flicker of pride forcing its way through his fear. "I actually have power now… real power."
And now that he had it, what was he going to do?
Run away? Try to escape and pray he reached another corridor alive?
…Or turn back, face the creature, and kill it?
The second choice was ridiculous. Insane. A few minutes ago he'd been dying beneath its claws. Even now, the idea made his stomach coil with dread.
But if he killed it…
He would gain something from it.
Monster parts from the Labyrinth were always valuable. The explorers sold them for coins, sometimes a lot. Grandpa said even some monster from the upper level of the Labyrinth could feed a family for weeks. But he didn't know which monster it was.
And this monster was far from weak. At least by his standard.
Even if he didn't get any usable parts, the victory alone would mean something. He would know he wasn't worthless and weak. He would know he wasn't inferior to the noble kids who strutted around and bragged about their Bloodmarks.
If he killed a Labyrinth monster by himself… It meant that he was strong.
Dominic drew a steady breath, trying to calm the tremble in his hands. His chest still throbbed and faint sparks of pain reminded him he was severely injured, even if something was holding his body together.
For a moment, the thought of dying here froze him in place.
But then a stronger thought pushed through. If he runs again, he will stay weak forever.
He tightened his grip on the knife until his knuckles turned white, and decided.
"Alright," he whispered to himself. "Let's kill that monster."
Then he moved, ready to kill.
—