Right in the middle of the dungeon, David Blackwood was clashing with a huge wolf, clearly the dungeon boss.
A massive, jet-black wolf, its fra cloaked in shadows and nace. Its fur was thick and untad, like a mane of midnight flas bristling down its spine, swaying slightly with every subtle movent. Muscles rippled beneath its sleek, battle-scarred body—the kind of build only a creature forged by survival could possess.
Its eyes were piercing, an icy blue that seed to glow faintly, almost unnatural, as if lit from within by ancient fury. They didn’t just see—they judged, calculating and unblinking, locked onto anything that dared move.
The wolf’s paws pressed into the icy ground with silent precision, claws glinting like obsidian blades. It moved with a predatory grace, low to the ground, each motion coiled with potential energy—ready to pounce, to strike, to kill. Its long tail swayed behind it like a whip, the only hint of motion in its otherwise still, statuesque form.
"Scarred, silent, and savage, this isn’t just an animal. It’s a living weapon," that’s what ca to Michael’s mind when he saw the wolf.
David was locked in a brutal clash with the beast, a towering wolf shrouded in shadows, its fangs bared in silent fury. Every movent from the creature was a blur, a storm of savage precision that pushed him back, step by step.
Clutching his massive tal war hamr, David swung with all the strength he had, the weight of the weapon sending shockwaves through the ground each ti it struck. But the wolf was faster, impossibly fast. It weaved between his blows like liquid shadow, its claws raking sparks off the hamr’s steel surface.
Blood dripped from fresh wounds on David’s arms and chest, and his breath ca in ragged bursts. The hamr felt heavier with each swing, but he refused to fall. Gritting his teeth, he let out a roar and charged again, defiant, battered, and burning with raw determination.
Yet in the eyes of the wolf, glowing with cold intelligence, it was clear this fight was far from equal. And David was losing. David was mostly a tanker and was good at taking a heavy beating, and that made him lack speed mostly. David was able to match the wolf in terms of strength, but the wolf was faster, and Michael couldn’t land many blows on the wolf due to how fast it was. Even though he managed to land a blow here and there, the wolf was sure to repay him with more injuries on his skin, and right now David Blackwood was covered in blood and was growing weaker as the wolf had more of an advantage. But that didn’t an that the wolf would win the fight unscathed, as David Blackwood was able to land blows on the wolf, and the wolf had to bear the weight of his war hamr; probably most of the wolf’s inner organs must have suffered severe injuries by now.
Dashing closer to aid David and save him from the vicious wolf, as I ran through the cold floor of the dungeon boss room, I imdiately summoned the celestial Star bow; it manifested in a spark of black light.
The bow, which looked like it had been carved from midnight itself.
Its limbs swept outward in a jagged, elegant arc, each curve shaped like the wing of a bird of prey, or perhaps sothing older, sothing celestial. The surface was a deep, shimring black, with faint hints of violet and blue that pulsed beneath it like starlight seen through storm clouds. Not painted. Not dyed. As if the cosmos itself had been poured into its core and locked behind the surface.
At the center, just above the grip, a crown-like crest jutted upward, jagged and regal, like a fragnt of so forgotten constellation. It wasn’t just decoration; it gave the whole weapon a presence, like it was ant to be wielded by soone chosen, not soone lucky.
Each end of the bow flared into talon-like spikes, wicked and graceful. The string between them was thin and dark.
Still dashing forward, I released two arrows. The arrows flew through the air, hitting the wolf at the neck and one at its back. The wolf howled as the arrows pierced its skin; clearly, I was able to injure it.
"Damn it, I was aiming for its eye," Michael said. He was aiming for the wolf’s eye, but the wolf was able to move before the arrow landed, preparing to let another arrow fly from the bow.
The wolf recoiled in surprise, caught off guard by an attack it hadn’t sensed, as its focus locked entirely on David; it wasn’t able to notice Michael aiming at it. David Blackwood was also surprised at the attack but turned his head; he saw with my bow ready to release another arrow from the celestial Star bow. He smiled and quickly ran towards , and the wolf dashed forward, not thinking about letting its prey escape so easily. I was surprised as to why David was running towards , and he was pretty close; he was right in front of , which covered up my aim at the wolf. I was just about to ask him to move out of the way so I could aim at the wolf, but before I could say anything, I saw David Blackwood smiling at , but there was sothing wrong about it—a cruel edge in his grin that sent a chill down my spine. The smile was sharp, wicked, and dripping with malice. I couldn’t really understand what was happening before I could understand the reason for that smile. David Blackwood ran past and shoved , and I fell down on the cold floor; the arrow I was aiming at the wolf was forcefully released from my bow and was able to graze the wolf’s skin. The wolf howled at the small injury inflicted on it.
David Blackwood dashed for the door and escaped, leaving alone to face the wolf dungeon boss, as the wolf was now focused all on and was already leaping to attack . Then I felt sothing I hadn’t felt since I awakened—the feeling of being weak, of not being able to protect myself. I was drawn back to that day I was beaten, left alone to die, helpless, but to accept my fate. Seeing the wolf ready to attack , I lost all hope; if I wasn’t strong enough to block it now, I couldn’t do anything but accept my fate. But it was quite funny how the gods saved by awakening just to get killed by a dungeon wolf. Michael just felt like laughing and giving up, but that was until Michael decided to not accept this; he couldn’t die like this.
"I won’t give up, I won’t die here," Michael said, giving himself hope. "I am the shadow monarch, one chosen by the gods, I bear the mark of shadow, I wield divinity, I am the ruler of the shadow, I am chosen by the god of death, I can’t die to a re wolf... No, I won’t," Michael shouted. Imdiately all the shadows raised, obeying the call and commands of its ruler, its monarch.
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