Amukelo's boots pounded against the stone as he charged forward, sword in hand, his legs burning. Pao was behind him.
The abomination's chest began to bulge again, just like before. That corrupted beam was building. His instincts screamed to move, to sidestep it, but he knew—if he did that, it wouldn't aim at him. It would aim at her.
So he stayed in its line of fire. He gritted his teeth, raised his blade, and swung with every ounce of strength he had.
Another golden-dark slash erupted from the edge of his sword. The creature's glowing, bubbling chest paused, and its glowing eye flicked up too late. The slash collided.
It roared and crossed its arms, blocking with its claws just in time. The beam it was preparing died in its chest with a sputter, as the creature was hurled backward a few steps, black mist erupting from its mouth.
By the time the impact cleared, Amukelo was already there.
He slammed into it with a heavy strike, steel meeting bone. The abomination held the blade back with its claws, but it skidded. Its taloned feet dug into the ground, but it was pushed back.
Amukelo's eyes widened as he thought, 'I'm not the one being pushed back this time.' The burning runes seemed to pulse in harmony with his heartbeat.
The abomination snarled, desperate, and its claws lashed out again, gripping his blade to keep it from swinging.
Its jaw dropped wide, unnatural and cracking at the hinge. That horrific tentacle-like spike erupted from its mouth, aiming straight for his face. But Amukelo twisted his head just in time. The spike missed his throat by inches, glancing off his cheek, and in one motion, he grabbed it with his free hand.
The thing writhed in his grip, wet and slimy, twitching like it had a mind of its own. But he didn't care.
Then—CRACK.
He heard it cracks spreading across the stone behind him.
And then—"Amukelo!! BEHIND YOU!"
It was Pao's voice—strained, pained, filled with fear.
He glanced over his shoulder just in time to see the ground erupt. Like jagged spears, multiple tentacle spikes surged up from the stone, like the one that had impaled Pao before.
They surrounded him. From every side.
Amukelo's eyes widened. His heart dropped. But something snapped inside him.
With a furious roar, he shoved forward. His sword surged with golden force, and in one sweeping arc, he cleaved through the abomination's claws. Black blood sprayed across the air. The creature hissed in pain, stumbling as Amukelo turned.
With his blade already moving, he spun into a full rotation.
And sliced through every tentacle erupting from the ground.
The fleshy appendages writhed in agony before collapsing into twitching chunks across the floor. He held the last piece of the abomination's mouth-spike in his hand—and let it drop to the ground with a wet thud.
The abomination snarled and jumped back, retreating. Smoke hissed from its wounds. It skidded across the ground, landing on all fours like some rabid beast. Its ribs pulsed, and it reared its head back with a high-pitched screech before throwing its hands forward again.
Dark magic twisted through the air. Tentacles once more burst from the stone.
Amukelo rushed through them, cleaving the path. But the abomination wasn't done—it thrust its claws forward into the air.
But then, a dark portal shimmered into existence directly in front of it. The other end—behind Amukelo.
It was too late for him to react, "Shit—!"
He barely had time to twist, let alone raise his blade.
But another shimmer erupted.
Another portal—Pao's portal—appeared right behind him, intercepting the dark one.
The creature's claw shot through the dark void, and just as it was about to strike Amukelo's back, it went through the other portal, and reappeared slashing directly into the abomination's own side.
It screeched and stumbled, cutting itself open across the ribs. The mist poured out like smoke from a forge.
Amukelo turned, stunned, and looked toward her.
Pao was barely standing. One hand gripped her staff. Her eyes were barely open, sweat dripping from her forehead. Blood soaked her robe from the deep puncture in her chest, and she was trembling just to keep upright. Her lips were pale.
She coughed hard—blood splattered onto the floor.
The corruption was spreading around the wound. A dark purple-black hue, like ink spilling beneath the skin. Pulsing slowly. Creeping toward her heart.
But she still stood. Still cast her portal. Still saved him.
His heart nearly collapsed from the sight. His grip on the sword tightened.
Amukelo's lunged forward like an arrow. There was no more hesitation now, no calculation. Just fury, and the desperate weight of time slipping through his fingers. She's dying.
And the thing responsible for it, was still breathing.
But then, as he sprinted, he saw the abomination tilt its head—not toward him, but behind him.
Amukelo's blood froze.
He twisted his body mid-run and turned back—just in time to see another one of those wretched spikes, rising from the ground. The black tentacle pulsed with the same corruption that had pierced her before. And it was aimed right at her again.
Pao was kneeling, her legs too weak to hold her weight. She looked up in horror, her strength gone, her hands trembling at her side. She started falling back, her mouth open in a weak gasp, her eyes wide with helpless fear.
Amukelo reacted before he could even think. He planted his foot, pivoted on his heel, and with a cry torn from his soul, he slashed his sword backward.
The blade glowed gold again. The wave of force split the air and tore toward the spike just as it finished erupting. It met the tentacle in mid-thrust and severed it clean, splitting it like a rotten root. The remnants of it collapsed to the floor with a wet squelch, twitching like a dying thing.
Pao's chest heaved as she looked up in disbelief. She had flinched. But the attack never reached her.
Amukelo turned back, his chest heaving, and screamed at the abomination. "You bastard!!"
He surged forward like a storm, blade in both hands, every muscle in his body aching—but his heart drowned it all out with rage and desperation. The runes on his sword flared brighter than ever before. The air seemed to tremble around the blade.
The abomination turned to face him again, raising its second limb—still untouched, claws bared like spears. It slashed forward to meet Amukelo's charge, but Amukelo didn't even slow.
He screamed with everything in his soul and brought the blade down.
The glowing edge met the claws, and this time they didn't hold. He severed them clean.
The blade cut through, shattering bone and tearing through its blackened flesh, and then continued downward, carving deep into its torso. A spray of black-red mist exploded into the air. The creature stumbled back, reeling.
But Amukelo didn't wait.
He followed through, raised the sword above his head, and with a final yell that carried all of his fear, rage, guilt, and grief—
He brought the blade down, vertical, straight through the center of the creature's neck.
The head detached in a clean line, spinning once before slapping the dungeon floor with a wet thud.
Silence followed.
The body stood upright for half a second, then collapsed backward, crashing onto the stone with a lifeless, twitching thump. A hiss of mist escaped from its wounds. Its limbs convulsed once. Twice. Then… stillness.
Amukelo's arms dropped. The sword dangled loosely from his hand, and the glowing runes flickered once… and faded.
His legs buckled and he dropped to his knees, gasping for breath. The entire world around him spun. His head throbbed. His arms were numb. The silence was thick. Suffocating.
But then he heard a guttural cry. His eyes snapped up. He turned his head toward Pao.
She clutched her side again, the same place she had been pierced. Her lips trembled as she whimpered, and then—"AAHHHHH—!"
She couldn't hold it anymore.
The scream ripped out of her throat. She bent forward, her bloodied fingers trembling over the spreading corruption that pulsed beneath her skin like a crawling shadow. She tried to breathe through it, but each breath shook harder than the last.
Amukelo's exhaustion was forgotten in an instant. He rushed to her, falling more than running, stumbling to her side.
He dropped his sword and hit the stone floor beside her, catching her before she collapsed completely.
"Pao—hey, hey, I've got you. I've got you," he said, his voice shaking. "Stay with me. Just… stay with me."
She didn't answer. Her face was pale, her lips starting to darken.
Amukelo reached down to her belt, grabbing for the healing potion he knew she kept on her at all times.
His fingers found the leather strap. The broken glass neck of the bottle still sat in place. But it was empty.
He blinked. His stomach twisted. He pulled it free and stared at the sharp edge where the bottle had shattered.
Just the neck. Nothing more. The potion was gone.
Amukelo's hands trembled. "…No."
He looked at his own belt. He had used his during the battle, just after the corruption clawed into his back. He had nothing left.
He swallowed hard, looking back at her. Her breath was shallow. Her fingers twitched against the ground.