Nova backed against a shattered rune-etched pillar, its mossy surface slick with his blood, the Beastaria dungeon's meadow a churned mess of torn grass, spilled guts, and broken stone. Blood gushed from his shredded ribs, chest, and arm, his leather jacket a tattered rag, soaked red and clinging to his skin.
Adam lay unconscious behind him, sprawled in the dirt,his neck bruised purple, his leg a mangled wreck of torn flesh and blood, cracked glasses half-buried in the gore. The red goblin, a ten-foot D-rank beast, loomed like a nightmare, its bloated belly quivering, muscles bulging like granite, black eyes burning with hunger.
Two E-rank goblins, green-skinned and wiry, flanked it, their yellow eyes glinting, spiked clubs and rusty blades raised. A D-rank drake slithered nearby, its black scales glinting, venom dripping from jagged jaws, barbed tail twitching. More D-rank drakes lumbered from the checkpoint's ruins, their claws ripping earth, roars shaking the valley.
Nova's twin daggers trembled in his hands, their black blades chipped, edges cracking, ready to shatter. Blood loss blurred his vision, his knee a grinding wreck from a drake's tail, his shoulder bruised to the bone.
He glared at the monsters, crimson eyes blazing, mind clawing for a way to call Marcus's assistant, but his phone, like Adam's, was dead weight; technology was useless in Beastaria's rift.
I'm fucked, he thought, spitting blood, his ribs a searing agony. No backup, no Freya, just me and a half-dead kid.
Two E-rank goblins charged, their cackles shrill, clubs swinging. Nova dodged, his body screaming, boots slipping in the blood-slick grass. His right dagger slashed, slicing one goblin's throat, blood fountaining, its head lolling as it crumpled.
The second's club grazed his arm, bruising bone, but his left dagger gutted it, steel ripping through flesh, intestines spilling in a steaming, stinking heap. The daggers' edges dulled further, steel splintering, their aura fading. They cut like paper, but I'm too low-rank, he thought, coughing blood. Can't summon more. I'm running on my excess energy, which will run out soon.
His mind fogged, thoughts sluggish, Freya's absence a knife in his gut. She'd gone to confront Apollo, as he was suspect number one. It made sense, since Apollo never liked Nova, and also because as a Supreme God, invisible shields mean nothing to him. Hell, even a Low Heaven god, like God of Air, would be comparable to Draco, so as a Supreme God, Apollo was even stronger than Draco, a hundred times stronger.
Though, if it was the old Draco, the one who fought against the gods during the Eradication, then even Apollo would struggle. But since, the old Draco was defeated by Nova, and then sealed in Beastaria, ruling over this realm, his powers had been substantially decreased, since Nova sealed half of Draco's powers away, inside his High Heaven chambers. Accessible only to Freya and him.
What do I do? he thought, panic surging, blood pooling in his boots. He was at the last straw, his mental status had decreased, and his physique was worsening by the second.
Elesch's voice, cold and sharp as a blade, sliced through his haze: "You're dying, Nova," she hissed, venom in her tone. "I'm your ability, tied to your pathetic life. If you croak, I'm gone too, and I'm not dying again, not by your hand. Run for the checkpoint, teleport to the mortal realm. Use the boy, Adam, as bait, distract them for a second, get a head start."
Nova sneered, blood dripping down his chin. "Shut your fucking mouth, you dumbass," he growled, voice raw. "I'm not throwing Adam to these bastards, but running's not a bad idea. Thanks for one useful thought."
His eyes flicked to the checkpoint, a low hill across the valley, its crimson Guild of America flag fallen, its pole bent but glowing faintly with teleportation runes. Wildflowers blurred in his fading sight, streams gurgling mockingly, the amber sky a sick joke against the carnage.
Nova staggered to Adam, his knee buckling, ribs grinding, blood soaking his shirt. He knelt, pain a white-hot spike, and hoisted Adam onto his back, the kid's weight crushing his broken bones, blood smearing between them.
Adam's shallow breaths rasped, his limp body dead weight. "Don't die on me, Glasses," Nova muttered, voice a gritty rasp, gripping his cracked daggers, their aura barely a flicker. The red goblin stepped closer, claws flexing, the drake's venom hissing on the grass, E-rank goblins circling, their cackles grating.
He needed a distraction, one second to break free. Nova scanned the meadow, spotting a cluster of bioluminescent fungi by a stream, their blue caps pulsing. He hurled his right dagger, its blade spinning, striking the fungi with a deafening burst, light and spores exploding in a blinding cloud.
The monsters recoiled, the red goblin shielding its black eyes, the drake hissing, E-rank goblins stumbling, choking on spores. Nova slashed the ground with his left dagger, kicking up dirt and pollen, a thick haze cloaking their path, the valley's scent turning acrid.
With a grunt, Nova leaped, Adam's weight dragging, his E-rank agility stretched thin. He cleared the red goblin's swinging fist, landing hard, knee cracking, blood spurting from his chest wound.
The valley became a gauntlet, his boots pounding grass, streams splashing, wildflowers crushed underfoot. The E-rank goblins recovered, sprinting after him, clubs raised, blades flashing. The drake slithered, claws tearing earth, its roar a gut-punch. The red goblin charged, its strides earth-shaking, closing the gap, its ichor-slick hide gleaming.
Nova weaved, dodging a spiked club from an E-rank goblin, its blade grazing his arm, blood welling, flesh tearing. He slashed back, his dagger's edge splintering, severing the goblin's hand, blood spraying, its scream cut short as he kicked its chest, ribs caving with a crunch.
Another goblin lunged, its club smashing his shoulder, bone bruising, a sharp crack echoing. Nova stabbed its eye, fluid bursting, the beast collapsing in a twitching heap. The drake's tail whipped, missing by a hair, its venom sizzling a pillar, stone melting, and Nova vaulted a stream, Adam jostling, his breaths fading.
The checkpoint loomed, meters away, its fallen flag a crumpled beacon, the teleportation rune glowing blue. Nova's lungs burned, blood loss dimming his vision, his pillars flickering, daggers heavy in his hands.
The red goblin's claws swiped, ripping his back, blood gushing, flesh hanging in strips, pain a blinding pulse. He stumbled, catching himself, Adam's weight nearly toppling him. Keep moving, he thought, blood in his mouth, his dagger's steel cracking, aura gone. An E-rank goblin charged, but Nova sidestepped, slashing its gut, intestines spilling, the beast tripping in its own gore, screaming.
A second D-rank drake joined the chase, its scales glinting, roar deafening, claws shredding the ground. Nova zigzagged, dodging venom sprays, grass blackening, the stench choking. The red goblin hurled a rock, clipping his leg, blood oozing, his knee buckling further, bone grinding. He pushed on, the checkpoint's hill rising, its rune-etched base pulsing. The E-rank goblins lagged, too slow, but the red goblin and drakes pressed closer, their roars a death sentence, the valley's streams and pillars a fading blur.
Nova's body was a wreck, gashes bleeding freely, ribs collapsed, shoulder and knee screaming. He reached the hill, the checkpoint's flag at his feet, its pole bent, runes flickering. A whistle cut the air, and a spear, thrown by a red goblin lurking near the ruins, arced toward him.
Nova dove, Adam sliding off his back, hitting the ground with a thud, the spear piercing Nova's side, steel grinding bone, blood flooding, a raw scream tearing from his throat. He crawled, fingers clawing dirt, blood pooling, and slapped the checkpoint's rune, its magic flaring blue, a hum of salvation.
"Go back!" Nova roared, voice a bloody gurgle, the teleportation rune surging, light swallowing him and Adam.
Another spear flew, thrown by a second red goblin, its tip glinting, aimed for his heart, but the rune's glow consumed them, the world dissolving. The spear sliced empty air, the monsters' roars fading, the checkpoint a fleeting glimpse as Nova's consciousness flickered, blood loss dragging him into darkness.
---
Many couple hours flew by in the blink of an eye.
Nova lay in a hospital bed, in the guild sector of the hospital. He was still fast asleep, the monitor reading above sixty beats per minute, ensuring he was still alive and somewhat healthy. Nova had sustained an enormous amount of damage: ribs cracked; blood sprouted from every corner, now patched with cotton gauze; some bones had stuck out, which were dealt with by a healer.
Though, even after the bones went back in, completely readjusted, the blood wouldn't stop. The healer couldn't patch the skin, which caused some commotion between Marcus, the doctors, and the rest of the nurses and healers present. So, they went old school and used cotton gauze, which was, somehow, effective.
Nova lay there, the cold, dark night illuminating all around him. The ceiling lights were dim, faint enough for anyone outside his hospital door to confuse him for another person. His bed was comfy, ensured by Marcus. He was also arranged to be on the highest floor of the hospital, since a couple of the private rooms were owned by the guild.
Adam was next door to Nova, though he was conscious. But he felt guilt for abandoning him in such a critical moment. He cried as he looked at the ceiling, then outward at the vast expanse of the night sky.
Then he stopped crying, shifting from vulnerability to resolve. His eyes, swept of every single tear, burned with determination; his brows drew together, his jaw tightening as he clenched his teeth. He promised himself:
"I've got to get stronger, no matter what. I can't let Nova, Marcus, and the rest of the guild down. They have invested too much in me. I can't let my friends die as I just sit here sulking."
That night, something had changed in Adam, something for the better. His mind was more focused than ever, his resolve stronger than the will of a strongman straining to lift a fuck ton of weight. That night, Adam's mind and heart set a common goal; and to achieve this goal, he would have to reinvent himself.