Chimera

Chaos erupted inside the cave.

The thick dust kicked up by Ellian’s body slamming into the wall slowly thinned. But the screams of pain that followed were far more horrifying than the sound of the impact itself.

"My leg! My leg won’t move!"

Ellian, the arrogant Rank A Hunter, was now crawling across the cold stone floor. His expensive silver armor was badly dented around the chest and thighs. Fresh blood seeped through the gaps in his leg guards.

In front of him, the Chimera roared at a piercing pitch that assaulted the ears.

The monster was in excruciating pain. The Mythril dagger Michael had thrown was still lodged deep in its left eyeball. Thick black fluid continued to gush out relentlessly. Its vision was impaired, turning its attacks wild and indiscriminate.

Michael observed the scene from behind the shadow of a massive stalagmite.

His breathing was ragged.

Not from fear.

But because his body felt wrong.

Michael looked down at his own hands. Skin that had once been taut now appeared slightly dry. The veins on the backs of his hands stood out more clearly. The joints in his fingers felt stiff, as if he had just worked nonstop for ten years straight.

An overwhelming exhaustion slammed into his bones.

"Fifty years," Michael whispered hoarsely.

Even his voice had changed. Slightly heavier. Slightly rougher.

A strand of hair fell into his line of sight as he lowered his head. It was no longer pitch black like charcoal. Its color was now a pale gray, almost completely white, like the remains of extinguished ash.

He had traded his youth for that single fatal strike.

But he was still alive.

His heart was still beating, even if it felt slower and heavier.

"HEALER! MICHEL! WHAT ARE YOU DOING! HEAL ME, YOU IDIOT!"

Ellian’s scream shattered Michael’s focus.

Michel, the healing mage, stood frozen with a deathly pale face. Her hands trembled so violently that her staff nearly slipped from her grasp. She stared blankly at the rampaging giant monster.

"I-I... My mana..." Michel stammered. "My mana is gone from deploying the shield earlier..."

"Use your blood if you have to! Hurry!"

The Chimera gave them no time to argue.

The goat head on the monster’s back opened its mouth. Toxic green energy began to gather there, forming a dense, rapidly spinning sphere.

"Watch out! Breath Attack!" shouted the party’s Ranger, hiding on the left flank.

The Chimera unleashed a sea of acidic poison straight at Ellian.

The green liquid hissed upon touching the stone floor, melting everything in its path.

Ellian’s eyes widened. His survival instincts took over. He couldn’t move quickly with his shattered leg. He needed a shield.

Ellian’s hand shot out. He grabbed the collar of Michel’s robe, who was standing far too close to him.

"S-Sir Ellian?"

Michel barely managed to utter those two words.

Ellian threw her body forward.

"Sorry, Michel. You can be replaced. I can’t."

Michel’s body flew directly into the path of the poisonous torrent.

She screamed.

That scream was the most horrifying sound Michael had ever heard in his life. Bubbling flesh and melting bone filled the air with a stench of death that burned the nose. Michel’s body became a living shield, protecting Ellian from the direct impact of the attack.

Michael closed his eyes for a brief moment.

His jaw clenched until his teeth ground together.

This was the true face of those so-called heroes. This was the reality the White Tiger Guild hid from the public. They were not protectors. They were parasites, feeding on the weak to survive.

Michael felt a powerful urge to rush out and kill Ellian right then and there.

But his legs refused to move.

Cold logic, from somewhere unknown, restrained his body.

Wait, whispered a voice in his head. Let them kill each other. You’re too weak to fight both at once. Be the spectator. Be patient death.

Ellian seized the moment created by Michel’s sacrifice.

He pulled out a magic scroll from the dimensional pouch at his waist. It was a Short-Range Teleportation Scroll. An extremely expensive and rare item.

"Ranger! Tank! Hold the monster! I’ll call for reinforcements!" Ellian shouted, lying through his teeth.

Everyone knew the scroll could only carry one person.

"Sir! Don’t leave us!" the Ranger cried desperately while firing arrows uselessly at the Chimera’s hardened hide.

Blue light enveloped Ellian’s body. He looked toward the collapsing exit, then his gaze briefly shifted toward the shadow where Michael was hiding.

A flash of hatred burned in Ellian’s eyes. He knew Michael was still alive. He knew who had thrown the dagger.

"Wait for my revenge, sewer rat," Ellian mouthed silently.

In the blink of an eye, Ellian’s figure vanished into the light.

He fled. Leaving his comrades behind to die.

"Bastard!" the Ranger cursed.

But the curse was his last word.

The Chimera’s serpent tail shot forward and coiled around the Ranger’s neck. A short, pitiful crack sounded. The Ranger’s body collapsed like a broken puppet.

Now only Michael remained.

And a monster that was severely wounded, yet still terrifyingly lethal.

The Chimera sniffed the air. Its lion’s nose twitched. It smelled Michel’s blood. It smelled the Ranger’s corpse.

And it smelled aging life behind the stalagmite.

The monster slowly turned its body. Its single remaining yellow eye locked directly onto Michael’s hiding place.

"Grrrrrrrr..."

The low growl made the floor tremble.

Michael knew he couldn’t run. His aged body wouldn’t be able to outrun a four-legged monster. He also had no weapon besides the rusted spike still clutched in his hand.

The Mythril dagger was still embedded in the monster’s left eye.

That was the key.

The weapon was already there. He just needed to drive it deeper. Straight into the brain.

But how could he get close without being torn apart?

Michael scanned his surroundings rapidly. His eyes landed on Michel’s half-destroyed corpse. Beside her charred hand were three unopened blue mana potions.

Michael’s mind spun rapidly.

He didn’t need mana. He needed an explosion.

The basic nature of Mana Potions was pure energy, unstable when subjected to strong impact or fire.

Michael picked up a stone the size of his fist.

"Hey, ugly mutt!" Michael suddenly shouted.

He stepped out of the shadows. His thin body and white hair looked painfully fragile under the dim torchlight of the cave.

The Chimera roared in rage at the small prey daring to challenge it.

The monster leapt. Its massive front claws rose high, ready to smash Michael into meat paste.

Time seemed to slow for Michael. Not because of a skill, but because of razor-sharp focus on the edge of death.

He didn’t retreat.

Instead, he charged forward to meet the monster head-on.

As the Chimera’s massive body sailed through the air, Michael threw himself to the ground and slid beneath the monster’s belly like a baseball player performing a slide.

His right hand snatched a mana potion from Michel’s corpse as he passed.

"Eat this!"

Michael hurled the glass bottle with all his strength toward a fallen torch near a pile of dry straw from the monster’s former nest.

CRASH!

The blue liquid splashed into the flames.

BOOOM!

A blue mana energy explosion detonated violently right beside the Chimera’s right face as it landed. The blast wasn’t strong enough to kill it, but it was bright and loud enough to startle the monster and throw it off balance.

The Chimera staggered sideways, its right eye—its only functional eye—reflexively shut from the blinding flash.

That was the opening.

One second. Maybe two.

Michael didn’t waste it. He leapt onto the monster’s staggering back. His hands clenched into the coarse fur at the lion’s nape.

It felt like riding a raging bull.

Michael’s body was violently tossed around. Pain screamed through his joints. His ribs felt like they were about to shatter.

But his eyes were locked on a single point.

The hilt of the Mythril dagger protruding from the monster’s left eye.

"Die!"

Michael used both hands. He slammed his palm into the dagger’s hilt with all his strength.

Not once.

Slam.