Asher gritted his teeth as his skin peeled from the scorching rock hugging him. Sparks erupted as the young swordsman slashed the golem's hand, his blade screeching against stone. The boy landed with a skid, his grip tightening around the hilt.
"This kind of Defiled isn't really my forte," he muttered, eyeing Asher. "I'll need your help."
"THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?! I'VE NEVER EVEN HELD A BLADE!" Asher shouted, wobbling as the golem thundered forward.
"You don't need to." The swordsman sheathed his blade with a click. "I'll create an opening—you just need to take it."
Asher's expression twisted, "The fuck do you an? Bitch explain properly!"
The youth let out a tired chuckle as he sidestepped another massive swing. "Its heart. I'll expose it. You break it."
"How, genius? With what, my charming personality?!" Asher snapped.
"It's like glass," the swordsman called back, flipping mid-air to dodge a crushing blow. "A punch should be enough!"
Asher itched to grab his head in frustration, but he was too busy clinging for dear life.
"TSHAAAAAAAAA!" his thoughts broke from a scream as the boy pumled the golem with his sheathed sword. It was.. doing damage.
But not enough. Asher's thoughts cycled, his hands trembling [Nimble intellect] made his thoughts accelerate but didn't suppress his emotions which were threatening to take over. He was panicking. A lot. It seed as though the youth was also struggling. Still, amidst the chaos, a wicked grin crept across his face.
"Hey, Sword Guy! I have a plan!"
The youth glanced at him.
"On three, strike the heart!"
He gave a subtle nod.
"ONE!"
"TWO!"
A tremor pulsed through the sand.
The golem paused, as if sensing sothing. A strange pressure pressed down on its hulking fra—a presence it couldn't locate. It had no nerves. No instincts. Only raw, brute reaction.
Its massive head jerked back and forth, snapping like a broken compass, searching for the unseen threat. It twisted unnaturally, peering over its jagged stone shoulder.
"THREE! NOW!"
A blur of steel flashed through the haze.
The youth surged forward with explosive grace, his erald eyes locked on the beast's chest. With both hands clenched around his blade, he struck. The impact rang out like a gong, tal against stone—loud enough to make the air itself quiver.
But the golem retaliated.With a guttural, grinding snarl, it swung.
A colossal arm whipped forward like a boulder launched from a catapult. It slamd into the youth mid-stride—BOOM.His body was launched into the sand, vanishing in a cloud of dust.
"I leave it to you foolish one!" the voice cracked out from within the storm as the golem's shadow swallowed him whole.
Asher's breath caught in his throat.
His heartbeat thundered in his ears.
"Now or never, huh…" he whispered.
Then—he ran.
Full of hesitation. No grace. Just raw adrenaline.
The world around him spun, the heat distorting everything into waves. But he could see it—the ruby heart, glinting like a cursed jewel in the golem's exposed chest.
Ti stretched as Asher was falling down. He had one chance to do this.
One chance.
"I won't fucking miss!"
The golem turned its head too late.
CRACK—!
Asher's punch connected with the gem. A shockwave rippled out. The heart fractured. Then—shattered, shards exploding into the air like crimson glass caught in a sandstorm.
The dust carved into his skin like razors as the whisper ca:
[You have slain an Awakened Monster: Stone Golem.]
He slamd into the ground hard, lungs refusing to draw breath, saliva flinging from his lips as he coughed and gasped. He blinked—then saw it.
The golem was tipping.
"Oh shit—"
His mind thought fast.
He rolled. Clumsy. Desperate.
WHAM!
The golem's lifeless husk crashed down, barely missing him. A wave of sand and debris erupted into the air like a cannon blast.
Choking, Asher flung himself upright, panting, blood mixing with sweat. His eyes were wild.
"ARE YOU KIDDING ?! Let breathe for one damn second, you rocky piece of shit!"
He collapsed onto the sand again, chest heaving.
[You have received a mory: Stoneblade]
[Stoneblade: Despite its unassuming appearance, its weight belies a quiet strength, a reminder of forgotten ages and the secrets they hold.]
A wide grin split across Asher's face—brief, involuntary. Then it lted away, overtaken by the sting in his eyes. He slamd his forearm over them, voice cracking as he muttered:
"That was the scariest shit ever. I almost died…"
His voice trailed into the wind.
For the first ti in his life, death hadn't been a concept. It had been a breath away.
He lifted his battered arm, crusted with cuts and sand, studying it under the burning sun.
'Looks like I really am in another world, huh…?'
A voice cut through the silence behind him—cool, amused:
"Well done, foolish one. Honestly, I thought you were going to die."
"Hey bitch, can't you see that I am in a very emotional mont." Asher deadpanned as he wiped his tears.
"Ah—my mistake. I assud if the sand didn't bother you, neither would I."
Asher blinked. "Sand?"
The youth gave a mischievous smile. "Yes. The sand."
A familiar warmth suddenly crept up Asher's body—too familiar.
His expression snapped to horror. "Wait—wait, am I on fire?!"
He scrambled to his feet in panic, hopping onto the golem's carcass like it was a lifeboat, spinning around in frantic circles.
"Sword guy! Are my clothes burning?! Be honest!"
The youth barely glanced back, shaking his head casually. "You're fine."
Then, like it was nothing, he walked off toward the cals and the crowd of robed n, who instantly surrounded him with cheers and gratitude. He laughed along softly, tugging his hood up with practiced nonchalance.
Asher stood alone in the swirling dust, dumbfounded.
The youth turned, calling back over the wind:
"Well, foolish one! Would you like to join us to Arilea? I an, thanks to you, I managed to kill it without losing a limb."
Asher clenched his jaw. His eye twitched. His hand twitched. Every part of him twitched.
"Would you—please—stop calling 'foolish one'? I have a na."He sighed, long and dramatic."It's Asher. Call. . Asher."
The youth gave a mock salute and pointed.
"Fair enough. Then do a favor too—quit calling 'sword guy'."
Asher raised a brow. "Oh yeah? What should I call you, then?"
The youth grinned, erald eyes gleaming.
"Eurys. That's this handso man's na."
Asher froze. His mind went blank for a second. Then—
'Wait—Eurys? The Eurys? Eurys of the Nine?! THAT Eurys?!'
His thoughts spiraled into chaos.
But Eurys was already moving again, his voice playful:
"By the way, you still haven't answered . Are you coming?"
Asher crossed his arms, staring at him like he was trying to decide whether or not this was all a fever dream.
"Yeah… I'll co." He paused. "But I have a request."
Eurys tilted his head. "Shoot."
Asher looked down, lifting one foot pitifully.
"Can I please get so damn shoes?"
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