Chapter 3: Monster in cave
Kane tore through the deep woods, the goblins' shrill, mocking screeches clawing at the air behind him. His heart thundered, a frantic drumbeat driving his legs through the tangled undergrowth. Branches snapped against his face, leaving welts that stung with every ragged breath. He didn't know where he fled—only that stopping meant death. The air burned his lungs, raw and icy, as he sucked it down in desperate gulps.
A jagged root snagged his foot, ripping through flesh with a wet, searing slash. He stumbled, blood oozing hot and thick down his ankle, soaking his boot in a crimson mess. Pain flared, but the goblins' snarls—closer now—drove him upright. He limped onward, each step a jolt of agony, until a black maw loomed ahead: a cave, its mouth gaping like a wound in the rock. Without a thought, he hurled himself inside, shadows swallowing him in a cold, suf
Only a sliver of gray light pierced the entrance, casting twisted shapes across the damp, jagged walls. Kane pressed his back to the stone, its chill biting through his torn shirt. His chest heaved, breath rasping as he strained to hear past the pounding in his ears. The goblins' cries had faded, but the silence felt heavier, laced with menace.
Then—footsteps. Clumsy, scraping steps. Shapes flickered in the dim light—green, hunched forms slinking toward the cave. Five goblins, their mottled skin glistening with sweat and filth, clutched crude sticks and jagged stones. Their yellow eyes glinted, feral and cruel, as they crept closer, grinning with jagged teeth. Kane's pulse spiked. Trapped. No way out.
A deeper shadow stirred, a rumble shaking the cave's depths. From the darkness lumbered a monstrosity—red-skinned, towering, its muscles bulging beneath taut, scarred flesh. An orc. Its hide was a furious crimson, tusks curling like daggers from a snarling maw. Old wounds crisscrossed its body, one leg mangled and oozing, yet it radiated a savage strength far beyond Kane's frail frame or the goblins' wiry malice. In its gnarled hands swung a hammer, massive and rusted, crusted with the blood of countless kills.
The orc's eyes—black pits of rage—locked on the goblins. With a guttural roar, it swung. The hammer arced through the air, a blur of death, and smashed into the nearest goblin. Bone shattered with a wet crunch, its skull bursting like overripe fruit, splattering the walls with gore. A second swing crushed two more, their bodies folding into pulpy heaps, green blood pooling beneath. The surviving pair squealed, scrambling back, but one slipped in the slick mess, its retreat cut short as the hammer pulped its spine. The last goblin bolted, vanishing into the forest's gloom.
Kane recoiled, the stone trembling under his feet from the blows. The orc's gaze shifted, pinning him with a predator's stare. Its tusks gleamed as it bared them, limping forward with a snarl of pain and fury. Kane's legs quaked, but he forced himself up, clutching his dagger—a pitiful splinter against this beast. His injured leg buckled, pitching him to his knees as the orc loomed closer.
The hammer descended. Kane threw up his arm, a futile shield. The impact was a thunderclap—bone snapped, flesh tore, and a scream ripped from his throat as white-hot agony engulfed him. His body slammed against the cave wall, vision swimming black. He crumpled, consciousness slipping away.
When his eyes fluttered open, the world spun. He lay sprawled by a narrow underground stream, its faint trickle echoing in the dark. Pain throbbed through his shattered left arm, hanging limp and useless, blood crusting where bone jutted through skin. His leg oozed steadily, a scarlet trail staining the stone. Nearby sprawled four goblins—two dead, their throats torn open by the orc's wrath, and two clinging to life, wheezing through broken ribs.
A wet, ripping sound snapped his gaze to the orc. It crouched a few feet away, tearing into a goblin's corpse. Its tusks shredded flesh, green blood dripping from its maw to splatter the floor. The stench—rotting meat and iron—turned Kane's stomach, but he couldn't look away. The beast was distracted, lost in its feast.
Kill and Gain. The system's words slithered through his mind, cold and insistent. His eyes darted to the dagger, still clenched in his good hand. Then to the nearest goblin, its shallow breaths a faint rasp. Could he do this? Take a life, not in panic, but in cold blood? Julia's lifeless face flashed before him—her bruised, broken body. He'd failed her once. Never again.
Teeth gritted, he dragged himself closer. The goblin's eyes widened, a weak gurgle escaping as Kane raised the dagger. He plunged it into its neck, steel sinking deep. Blood sprayed, hot and sticky, coating his hand as the creature twitched and stilled. A surge jolted through him—his vision sharpened, the cave's shadows snapping into focus. The pain in his leg dulled, a faint reprieve.
"IRITH," he rasped, voice trembling.
The air shimmered, text flaring before him:
[System of IRITH]
[Chart of Kane]
[Strength: 4]
[Magic: 1]
[Dark Magic: 0]
[Special Ability: 0]
[Occupation: Not Yet Decided]
[Mana: 12]
[Rule: Kill and Gain]
Strength up to 4—enough to steady his grip. Mana ticked to 12, a sliver more power. He turned to the second goblin, its chest stuttering. No hesitation this time. The dagger struck true, piercing its heart. Another pulse—his legs steadied, breath easing as vitality trickled in. He called IRITH again:
[System of IRITH]
[Chart of Kane]
[Strength: 5]
[Magic: 1]
[Dark Magic: 0]
[Special Ability: 0]
[Occupation: Not Yet Decided]
[Mana: 14]
[Rule: Kill and Gain]
Strength at 5 now, a flicker of real power. But the orc loomed ahead, its back a scarred expanse. More strength—real strength—lay there. Kane staggered up, every movement a scream of pain from his ruined arm. He crept forward, dagger raised, and drove it into an oozing wound on the orc's back.
The beast roared, a sound that shook the cave, and spun. Its arm lashed out, a battering ram of muscle. Kane twisted, but the blow grazed him, hurling him into the stream. Water splashed, cold and biting, as pain erupted anew—ribs bruised, breath stolen. The orc lumbered toward him, hammer dragging, its wounded leg slowing it.
Kane's eyes locked on the fallen weapon. Impossible before, but now… He lunged, fingers closing around the handle. A jolt surged through him—IRITH's gift, raw and dark. The hammer's weight crushed his shoulders, but he lifted it, muscles trembling, blood dripping from his arm to mingle with the stream.
The orc charged, tusks bared. Kane screamed—a feral, broken cry—and swung. The hammer crashed into the orc's chest, ribs caving with a sickening snap. It staggered, blood spraying from its maw, but clawed forward, snarling. Kane swung again, smashing its skull. Bone splintered, brains oozed, yet it thrashed, refusing death. He dropped the hammer, seized his dagger, and plunged it into the orc's throat, twisting until blood gushed in torrents. The beast's eyes dimmed, its massive frame collapsing with a final, shuddering gasp.
Kane stumbled back, collapsing beside the stream. His body was a ruin—arm broken, leg gashed, ribs aching—but power pulsed through him, dark and intoxicating. "IRITH," he croaked.
[System of IRITH]
[Chart of Kane]
[Strength: 8]
[Magic: 1]
[Dark Magic: 0]
[Special Ability: Aura Sight (View the strength of others)]
[Occupation: Not Yet Decided]
[Mana: 20]
[Rule: Kill and Gain]
Strength soared to 8—enough to wield the hammer, to kill. Mana climbed to 20, a faint reservoir. And there—a new line: Aura Sight. He blinked, testing it. The dead orc glowed faintly, a number hovering: Strength: 15. Kane's breath hitched. He could see it now—the power of others, a tool to measure his foes. Exhaustion clawed at him, but a grim smile tugged his lips. He'd survived. He'd grown. And this was only the beginning.