Seeing an arrow lodged in the head of the healer, instead of feeling glad, Lucian turned, a look of worry over his face.

"Master!?" He found his master coming, riding on the shoulder of the warlord. His eyes were still scanning for anyone alive.

"It’s not safe here, master... please go back." Forgetting about the mage, Lucian urged him to go back to safety.

"It won’t take long... I can kill him alone." He tried to reassure him.

Instead of replying, his master drew another arrow and aimed at the hunter lying on the ground. Shooting right through a hunter’s head, his master looked at the bow with awe.

Facing him, he replied, "My existence is at risk here... I’ve to evolve..." pointing toward the bow in his hand, he added, "This has an auto aim... I will shoot from the back...you don’t have to worry about me."

"Master, why are you not understanding? This man is dangerous, his spell has a wide range... my mana hasn’t come back as well..." Lucian urged again.

******

While the two were having a clash, Michael was going through something much more hopeless.

’Where did it go wrong...’ Looking at her corpse, he thought, staff, slipping from his hand.

"I shouldn’t have taken the offer... was it a trap from the very beginning. Is the director and the dungeon master in a cohort among themselves?" He asked her, waiting for an answer that never came.

Tumbling toward the corpse, Michael remembered his days in the academy.

She would always be there when he would drown himself, trying to learn new spells. She fed him with her own hands when his were busy weaving mana.

"Are we just a necessary sacrifice for them... are we Misha?" Kneeling beside her corpse, he asked, creasing her cheeks.

"Is our only purpose to get slaughtered?"

Michael remembered how she would read him letters her brother would send. She would tell him how excited his brother was to boast to his friends about his sister becoming a hunter.

"How I show my face to him... You can’t this to me... take my place... You have to live."

Cupping his hand, Michael picks up the blood and moves toward her throat, trying to patch the wounds.

It didn’t work, as he wasn’t blessed with divinity. The one who was has died. And no amount of divinity can bring the dead back to life.

"I don’t have the courage to see them... I wil-" Before finishing his words, Michael turned back.

The demon was still arguing with the human riding the warlords.

’Master of the dungeon..’

Remembering Adam’s words, he glanced around, and all of his teammates had an arrow to their heads. In this little time, the dungeon master had killed them all.

"Why me..."

"Why are they sparing me... haha!!"

He laughed, finding that even the monsters had abandoned him. Even they didn’t find any meaning to his existence.

’Why can’t you just kill me...’ He begged, looking at them.

Nobody heard his cry as the duo was still arguing among themselves. He was a ghost to all of them.

Creasing her cheeks for the last time, Michael lifted the artifact. Instead of sending his mana to it, he tore off the pages.

Sacrificial Surge.

A shiver ran down his spine as Michael felt something crawling over him. A hand reached for his throat, whispering something in his ears.

/You are nothing... your parents abandoned and you still look for their approval.. how pathetic.../

Michael’s eyes widened, and he shook his head.

’That’s not true... I’m doing it of my own accord...’ He tore another page of the artifacts. The hands around his throat tightened, choking him, as he listened to the whispers.

/Hahhahahhah!! Hahhaha!! Who are you fooling, child... I can see it... haha I can read it in you face... do you want approval... do you want power.../

Michael nodded his head, his finger ripping another page on its own.

/Do it...do it, and I will give you all the power... I will fulfill all you wish.. do you want that... do you want that or not?/

Michael nodded, a handful of pages turned to dust this time.

/Tell me.. do you want it... tell meeee ... SAY IT LOUDER SAY IT I WANT TO HEAR FROM YOUR MOUUUTHHH../

"YES.." Michael shouted, bringing the attention of the demon and his masters.

/HAHAHHAHAHAH!! This is ittttt... repeat after mee... repeat after mee and you will have it... youuuu will have all the power../

The last pages turned to ruin, as the voice turned closer to his ear, whispering something forbidden in it.

/Form ash and bone, I call your name,

O veiled one, O lord of Rot,

Breaker of will and eater of light,

Be my fear and my sin—

O, Ancient One, decent within.../

Before the whisper could finish, something broke inside of him. All the weight of the soul created a typhoon, distracting him from the word.

His mana went berserk as the pain brought him back to reality. In horror, he looked down.

’What...’ Michael looked in horror as he found the artifacts without any pages left. He suddenly remembered the world of the Templar.

"No matter what happens, never tear the last page of the book."

Arghhh!!!

With all the souls latching onto him, Michael’s mana was fighting to break him from the inside. Out of control, his mana surged wildly through his veins, destroying them.

Now it was impossible to cast a tier III spell; the intricacy required for weaving tier II was out of the options as well.

But Michael didn’t care.... as with this much raw mana, a tier I spell was more than enough.

"Master run..." Shouting, the demon charged at him, his sword raised, feet pounding against the ground.

A smile bloomed over Michael’s face as he watched the desperation on the demon’s face. He found it pleasing to cause the same pain that he was experiencing.

Snapping his finger, he ignited a spark, mana twisted and gathered, turning it into a fireball. Controlling the mana, he molded it into a fireball.

The ball grew fast... too fast, swelling bright and brighter until it looked like a small sun, blazing with heat and fury.

The air trembled around it as the demon saw it and froze. For a split second, he hesitated, not knowing the right path.

Slamming his legs, it immediately stepped back, turning to rush toward its master. In this state, it was impossible to kill the hunter, and saving the master was a priority.

Mana had returned to him as he weaved a shield out of blood.

But it was too late.

Michael clenched his hand, and the fireball exploded.

A blinding burst of light and heat tore through the jungle. Flames roared outward, swallowing everything in their path. The ground cracked, and the air screamed as a blast spread all around them.

The blood instinctively covered him as the demon didn’t even get the chance to reach its master.

Soon, everything was drowned in fire.