Meanwhile…
In a deeper, quieter corridor of the dungeon, far from the clang of swords and the shrieks of goblins, the real Elius stood alone.
Dust settled around him. The light from bioluminescent moss flickered on the stone walls, casting shadows that danced with his every movement.
He stared at the fragment in his hand, pulsing with a faint silvery-blue light.
Then—
He laughed.
"Pff… Pfft… HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" His voice echoed in the hollow tunnels, wild with disbelief and pure, unfiltered joy.
"This… This is Ghost Step!"
He spun in place, slapping the cavern wall with the back of his hand. "Unbelievable! It's a movement technique! A literal martial arts movement technique based on Lina's ghost form!"
He began pacing, his breath fast with excitement, eyes glinting with manic joy. "That means… that means…"
He stopped, spreading his arms wide.
"That means every one of these fragments I've been finding… they're based on my teammates' abilities!"
His voice trembled as he listed them out. "Clone technique from Shiro. Dragon Claw from Ron. Healing Pulse from Klee. And now… Ghost Step, from Lina. All of them—abilities born from the people I'm teamed up with."
He sucked in a deep breath, letting it out with a low chuckle. "Back in the cultivation game I used to play, there would usually only be one martial skill per dungeon. Everyone had to fight over it. One technique to benefit all cultivators—because they were all cut from the same cloth."
He held the Ghost Step fragment up to eye level, watching its translucent glow pulse like a heart. "But this world... this world isn't filled with cultivators. It's a madhouse of heroes and monsters and freaks. Superpowers that shouldn't exist—abilities that break the logic of cultivation."
His hand clenched into a fist. "And now I understand. That's why I'm getting multiple martial skills. Because the dungeon is responding to all of us. Not just me."
Then he paused.
His brow furrowed.
"But then…"
He slowly turned his head.
"What about me?"
He stared at the wall for a long, still moment.
His voice dropped to a murmur. "Clone came from Shiro. Dragon Skin from Ron. Healing from Klee. Ghost Step from Lina. All based on them…"
"…But I haven't found anything based on myself yet."
His fingers twitched.
"…Is it because I don't have a superhero ability? Just a cultivator? Or…"
He inhaled slowly. "Could it be… there's still more to find?"
He looked down at the stone path ahead of him, his blood pounding in his ears.
"I want to know."
Without another thought, he shot forward.
Whoosh!
He sprinted down the dark tunnels, faster and faster, weaving through shadows like a blur.
He hunted.
His body blurred through narrow passageways, scaling walls, leaping over pits, diving through slime-covered holes just to reach the next goblin pack.
Schwing! His sword spun like a death wheel, tearing through the startled goblins that squealed in the darkness.
BAM! A hammer-wielding goblin shattered rock beside him, but Elius ducked and countered—CRACK!—caving in the monster's chest.
Every time a goblin fell, he paused, eyes glowing with hope, reaching down to check for the unmistakable glimmer of a martial fragment.
Nothing.
He moved on.
Next pack. Ten goblins. Next. Twenty-five.
He fought for what felt like hours. Covered in blood. His clothes torn. His breathing heavy.
Still no new fragment.
He punched a wall, breathing hard. "Damn it. I'm not even asking for much. Just one. One martial technique based on me. Just one… just…"
He stopped.
Then he grinned.
A tired, but not defeated, grin.
"…No. I shouldn't be disappointed. This dungeon already gave me more than any other cultivator could ever hope to get."
He stood up, bloodied but standing proud.
"If I didn't get one based on myself this time… then I'll try again."
His eyes gleamed with hunger.
"What if I enter a new dungeon?" he whispered. "What if I team up with a different group of powered people? What if I go in with a guy who controls time? Or a girl who manipulates gravity? Or someone who turns into fire?"
He felt his heart begin to race again, not from battle—but from sheer possibility.
"Does that mean I'll be able to harvest their superpowers in the form of martial techniques too?"
He looked down at his hand, fingers spread.
"Could I get a Time Step? Gravity Palm? Flame God Breathing Style?"
He almost laughed again, but this time it was low. A crazed whisper in the silence.
"…If I keep this up… I'll have an arsenal like no one else."
A collection of martial techniques that no cultivator on Earth could even dream of.
An entire library—no, a war chest—built by absorbing the talents of this new chaotic world.
He felt his pulse pounding like a war drum.
"I can't wait."
But then—
His eyes narrowed.
A shiver.
Something tugged at the back of his mind.
Huh?
He stiffened.
It was like… a ripple in a pond. A pulse in the air. A subtle shift, almost like a thread was being pulled in the web of fate.
"…Did something happen?"
He stepped back instinctively, eyes darting around the corridor. His breath quieted. The swords on his back rattled ever so slightly.
"Is it the clone?"
He clenched his fists.
"No. I programmed it to retreat immediately with the others if there was danger. It's not dumb. It'll flee, protect them, and buy time if needed."
Still, that shiver didn't go away.
Elius stared at the tunnel behind him.
Then at the one ahead.
Then back again.
He took a deep breath.
"…I have to go."
He turned.
His legs bent.
And then, with a burst of wind—
WHOOSH!
He launched himself down the path at full speed, heading toward the clone, toward the others, toward the chaos.
Whatever it was.
Whatever had happened.
He had to be there.
…
Meanwhile, back to where Elius's clone and the four were trapped, the silence of the dungeon broke to them like shattering glass.
"RAAAAGH!!"
A chorus of goblin screeches echoed across the cavern walls, rolling like a tidal wave of bloodlust.
Torches crackled, casting long shadows of the approaching horde.
Dozens—no, hundreds—of goblins poured in from the dark tunnels, their eyes glowing green, their jagged weapons dripping with rust and venom.
And at the center of it all—stood Elius's clone.
His face half-shrouded in shadow, eyes glowing faintly like his original. Five swords floated behind him, humming in the stale dungeon air. The clone said nothing. He didn't need to.
He moved.
"HYAAA!" Ron screamed, fully transformed into his velociraptor form, claws tearing into the floor with each step. "Come at me! I'll shred all of you—come on!"
"Ron! Don't go off alone again!" Lina shouted from the side, her ghostly body fading in and out of visibility.
Too late.
Ron had already leaped into the mass of goblins.
SLASH!
SNAP!
THUMP!
His claws dug into green throats. He tore off ears and bit through skulls, shrieking like a beast. But they kept coming—biting, clawing, stabbing.
Lina flew beside him, phasing through the goblins, then reaching out with her ethereal hands—draining their energy. Their skin turned pale and cracked as she touched them, their limbs freezing in place as ghostly frost spread over their bodies.
"Ugh! They're so many!" Lina cried, swinging her arms. "They don't stop!"
"I've got you!" Shiro shouted, reappearing from a wall. His body cloaked in black, several shadow clones erupted behind him. All armed. All deadly.
"Blade Mist Technique!" he roared.
FWIP FWIP FWIP!
Dozens of kunai and shadow blades flew across the battlefield, stabbing into eyes, throats, knees—everything that moved. Goblins fell, howling.
Klee, smaller than the others, floated near the back. She closed her eyes and murmured in a songlike tone.
"Rejuvenation Pulse!"
A light spread over Ron's bleeding body, sealing up a wound just as a goblin's axe grazed him.
"Thanks, Klee!" Ron roared. "I owe you one!"
"You owe me twenty!" she shouted back, dodging a thrown javelin by a hair's breadth.
And in the middle of it all, Elius's silent clone stood like a grim sentinel.
SCHING!
The five floating swords flew in arcs around him, slicing goblins mid-charge, parrying crude weapons, deflecting poisoned darts with elegant spins.
But there were too many.
The floor was slick with blood and piled high with twitching green corpses, but still more goblins came. They climbed over the dead like insects. Crawling. Biting. Gnashing.
From the shadows—the massive goblin emerged again.
His body heaved with muscle. His green skin gleamed with fresh blood, his face twisted in fury. In one hand, a massive club made of stone and bone. In the other, a chain wrapped around the remains of a humanoid's arm.
And behind him—a goblin priest, chanting. His staff glowed green. A healer.
The clone turned his head slightly toward the four.
Still silent.
Still not moving his lips.
Only his actions spoke.
He extended a hand, and his five swords floated in formation.
Then—he stepped on one of the blades.
WHOOSH!
The sword zipped forward, carrying him through the air like a streak of lightning.
CRASH!
The club of the massive goblin slammed into the ground where the clone had just been.
He was gone.
Then—BAM!
He was behind the goblin, sword plunging for its exposed spine.
CLANG!
Blocked. The massive goblin spun, its club swinging in an arc of death.
The clone leapt—landing on another floating sword mid-air.
Then another.
And another.
He was jumping between the blades like a ghost made of wind and steel. Evading. Striking. Retreating. Dancing in and out of range with perfect precision.
"NO ONE CAN FIGHT LIKE THAT!" Shiro yelled while slashing down a goblin. "That's inhuman!"
"That's our Elius!" Ron laughed as he kicked a goblin through a wall.
The clone said nothing.
He flipped mid-air, sword launching him over the goblin's head.
Another blade swooped from behind—SLASH!—cutting deep into the back of the giant's knee.
But the goblin didn't fall.
It roared, wild and bloodthirsty.
And below—the smaller goblins charged the four.
A wave of green flesh, claws, and screams.
"LINA! SHADOW WALL!" Shiro shouted.
"I'm on it!" she called, phasing through the floor and erupting as a ghostly barrier in front of them. The goblins crashed against it—biting, snarling.
"RAAARGH!" Ron burst out of the formation, slashing wildly, but he was getting overwhelmed.
"There's too many!" Klee screamed. "I can't heal all of you!"
"Then don't! Save it for when we're dying!" Ron growled, tail whipping through a goblin's face.
The clone, seeing them surrounded, paused.
His glowing eyes flicked between the massive goblin and his teammates.
Priority: Protect.
He extended his hand, and two of his five swords broke away from the formation.
WHOOSH!
They darted like falcons through the air—down to the four.
CLANG! SCHINK!
The swords spun around Ron and Shiro, carving down goblins trying to leap on their backs. One blocked a spear from stabbing Klee. Another carved a path for Lina to retreat through the floor.
The four looked up, shocked.
"He… he's helping us?" Klee whispered.
"No… no no no!" Shiro shouted, eyes widening. "He's not attacking the big one anymore!"
"SHIT!" Ron snarled, turning. "Don't—"
CRACK!
The massive goblin's club slammed into the clone.
The clone blocked it with his forearm—but that wasn't enough.
His arms—both—shattered like porcelain.
POP!
VWHAMMMM!
The impact launched the clone backward—his body skipping across the ground like a broken doll. Sparks flew as his body skidded along the stone floor.
His swords fell from the air, floating uncertainly.
The four turned in horror.
"NOOOOOOOOO!!!!" they screamed in unison.
The clone lay still.
His arms were gone.
Crushed.
Torn away at the shoulders.
The glowing eyes of the clone flickered… and dimmed slightly.
And yet…
He stood up.
Armless.
Silent.
Still facing the enemy.
Ready to fight.