Freedom
Ethan stared into the minotaur's burning eyes, his grip tightening on the Kensei Katana. But before he could strike, the minotaur swung his shovel in a devastating arc, the sheer force of the blow hurling Ethan backward through the air.
The undead warrior skidded across the ground, kicking up dirt and shattered tombstones. He barely had time to recover before the minotaur charged again, the shovel descending like a meteor.
But Ethan was faster.
Vanishing into thin air, he became a blur of motion, spinning around the minotaur like a tempest. Dust clouds erupted in his wake, the ground cracking under his lightning-fast steps. Tombstones exploded into rubble as Ethan's speed warped the air itself, leaving the minotaur disoriented and swinging at shadows.
"Stand still, pest!"
the minotaur roared, his shovel cleaving nothing but dust.
Ethan didn't respond. He kept his distance, weaving through the haze as the battlefield grew crowded with zombies clawing their way out of graves.
The minotaur snarled, slamming his shovel into the earth. The ground quaked, sending shockwaves rippling outward and crushing dozens of zombies into pulp. Ethan stumbled, struggling to keep his footing as the earth buckled beneath him.
CRACK
The minotaur charged like a raging bull, his shovel aimed straight for Ethan's chest.
"SHI—"
Ethan was thrown backward, crashing through tombstones and graves until his body slammed into a crumbling mausoleum.
"Not bad," the minotaur growled, looming over the debris. "But unfortunately, you're up against Ferox—Slayer of Armies."
Ethan dragged himself upright, his body battered but his resolve unbroken. Blood—or whatever passed for blood in his undead veins—dripped from gashes in his armor. Yet, for the first time, he felt a strange calm.
The world slowed. Mana pulsed around him, every particle of energy bending to his will. Closing his eyes, he envisioned a path—a route as free and untamed as the wind. The Kensei Katana lay discarded nearby, but it didn't matter.
From his lips, the words slipped out like a prayer:
"Lightning Liberty."
He disappeared.
Ethan ran, his movements synchronized with the wind. The air around him howled, the gusts marking each shift in his path with a ferocious intensity. But he kept up, his body moving in perfect harmony with the storm.
The wind guided him, its invisible hands steering him safely through the chaos.
1 step
2 steps
3 steps
His fist began to glow, a faint green light emanating from his knuckles.
4 steps.
5 steps
6 steps
The glow intensified, shifting from green to a deep, fiery red. The energy crackled around his hand, the air itself seeming to burn.
Ferox the Minotaur couldn't react. All he saw was a blur, a fleeting blip of motion—before the world exploded in pain.
BOOM.
Ethan's fist connected with Ferox's face in a devastating right hook. The impact was thunderous, the sound of shattering bones echoing through the graveyard. Both Ethan and Ferox felt the force of the blow, their bodies recoiling from the collision.
Ethan was flung backward, landing hard near a tree. He groaned, clutching his now-broken hand, but his eyes remained fixed on Ferox.
The minotaur lay unconscious, his massive body embedded in a boulder. The force of the punch had sent him crashing through layers of stone, leaving a crater in his wake. His shovel lay discarded nearby, and the coffin he had carried now rested in the middle of the field, its lid slightly ajar.
"...That's the last time I'll take a gamble like that," Ethan muttered, wincing as he propped himself up.
He staggered toward Ferox, his body battered but his still alive.
Ethan limped toward Ferox, his broken hand dangling uselessly at his side. As he passed the ornate coffin, its gem-lined edges caught his eye—too elegant, too deliberate for a minotaur's crude tastes. Curiosity tugged at him, and he reached out to touch it.
BANG
A force like a wrecking ball slammed into him, hurling him backward. He skidded across the dirt, coughing blood as he looked up.
There, standing beside the coffin, was a figure in a flowing black dress. Her face was veiled by a gossamer nightgown hood, but what Ethan could see chilled him: porcelain-pale skin, luminous as moonlight, and eyes glowing faintly violet beneath the fabric. She stood no taller than a teenager, her frame slight, yet her presence carried an air of ancient mystery.
"...A kid?" Ethan muttered, though the word felt wrong.
The girl tilted her head, her voice echoing with an ageless, hollow resonance.
"Child? How quaint. You break rules meant to bind gods, yet mistake shadows for their source."
Ethan pushed himself up, wary.
"Say If I stand corrected... you're a vampire?"
She gave a slight nod, her expression unreadable. Then she lifted her hand, and the ground trembled. Tombstones shifted, reassembling into jagged pillars around them.
Her eyes flickered to Ferox's unconscious form, then back to Ethan. "You fight well... for a corpse."
She paused, her gaze thoughtful, as if weighing her next words carefully. Then she spoke again, her tone softer but no less commanding.
"...Would you like a truce?"
Ethan sighed, his body aching from the fight.
"Actually, yeah, that would be great."
The girl looked momentarily confused, her brow furrowing beneath her hood.
"What's with the confidence?"
Ethan just smiled, exhaustion etched into his face.
"I'm just tired."
But beneath his weariness, he felt something unexpected—a sense of care.
(Would be a shame to kill her)
PING
Ethan glanced at his system screen, the notifications lighting up one after another.
"QUEST COMPLETED"
"Nice"
"HIDDEN CONDITION MET"
He frowned, confused.
"MERCY TO THE WEAK"
"ALL REWARDS HAVE BEEN DOUBLED"
"NEW PANEL HAS BEEN DISCOVERED"
_________________________________
Updated Status:
Name: Ethan Cross
Level: 6 (↑1)
Health:150/500 (critical)
Mana: 5/100 (depleted)
Debuffs:
- Undead Hunger: Resumes in 1 hour.
- Debt Trap: -2 Move Speed.
- Broken Hand: -20% attack speed.
Rewards:
- Double Rewards: +4 Levels, 2,000 Coins, New Skill Selection. (Upgraded)
- New Panel: "Forgotten Heroes" unlocked.
Current Objective:
- Uncover the "their keys" Secret
- Hint: "The Forgotten do not stay buried."
- Hidden Condition Progress: 5%
___________________________________________
Vampires
"Born of the shadows and bound by the blood, they are the eternal hunters—feared by the many, revered by the powerful, and cursed by the gods."
Lore:
Vampires have existed since the dawn of humanity, their origins shrouded in the mists of time. They are the hunters of the night, creatures of elegance and terror, their presence both a curse and a blessing to those who cross their path.
In the age of the Old Gods, vampires were rare, their kind hidden in the darkest corners of the world. They served mysterious masters, their true purpose known only to a select few. But with the collapse of the Old Gods' dominion, vampires rose to prominence, weaving themselves into the fabric of human society. Many walked among mortals unnoticed, their true nature concealed behind masks of nobility and charm.
The New Gods, however, saw them as a threat. To the vampires, the New Gods were illegitimate usurpers, unworthy of the power they wielded. This defiance earned them the ire of the divine, and the New Gods called upon humanity to hunt them down.
Yet, the vampires endured. They adapted, their cunning and strength allowing them to survive in a world that sought their destruction. To this day, they remain a symbol of fear and fascination, their legacy a testament to the enduring power of the night.