Elius's clone didn't need arms.
He had his swords.
Floating behind him like loyal wolves, the blades twitched, buzzed, and hummed in place—awaiting their master's will.
Then he moved.
WHOOSH!
With a flash of light, the clone stepped onto one of the flying swords—and it surged forward with a blast of wind.
He flew over the battlefield, a phantom of flickering steel.
Another sword zipped beneath him as he leapt, then another—each catching his feet like a relay, never letting him touch the ground.
The massive goblin roared in anger, swinging its massive stone club overhead.
BOOM!
The clone was already gone.
SLASH!
One of the swords sliced through the goblin's cheek.
CLANG!
Another blocked a wild swing of the club.
The goblin screamed, flailing wildly.
But the clone danced above it.
Like a wasp with blades, his movement blurred—jumping from sword to sword, dodging every strike by the skin of his ethereal teeth.
Yet…
He was slower.
Every movement took a fraction of a second more.
His balance was shakier.
His footing unsure.
He was running out of qi.
The clone was dying.
Still, he fought.
Still, he danced.
Still, he attacked.
Even when the goblin priest raised his staff and cast a green barrier over the massive goblin—he still attacked.
Sword after sword spun into the barrier, denting it, cracking it, grinding it away inch by inch.
Elius clone looked like he was intentionally making the massive goblin move in a circle so he could make it to the only way—the way they entered earlier and not be trapped.
And then—
A howl.
"AHHHHH!"
From the side, Ron screamed as goblins tackled him to the ground. His claws were dull. His raptor form trembling.
"Ron!" Lina shouted, flying in to help—only to be struck mid-air by a thrown spear. She phased halfway through it, but part of the tip sliced through her phantom shoulder.
"Shiro—cover me!" Klee shouted, but even her light was dim now. She was panting, drenched in sweat, and her small hands shook.
Shiro stood in front of them, his last two shadow clones dying as they slashed apart the last wave of goblins, only to be overwhelmed by more. "I can't… I'm out," he whispered.
The four were on the brink of collapse.
Elius's clone saw it.
His glowing eyes flicked from the massive goblin—still recovering from the last attack—to the horde now descending on his allies.
Then to the staff-wielding priest goblin, whose mouth moved in a strange chant. His eyes met the massive goblin's.
A signal.
Something was coming.
The clone narrowed his eyes.
He understood.
This… was their last moment.
Without hesitation, he moved.
VWHIRRRRRRRRRRR!
Three of his swords snapped away from his formation and rocketed toward his four companions.
CLANG! THUMP! FWIP!
One blade spun like a spinning wheel, slicing through goblins approaching Klee.
Another blocked a spear that had been flying for Lina's chest.
The third threw itself into a goblin's mouth just as it lunged at Shiro, stabbing out the back of its skull.
"He's saving us again!" Ron grunted, forcing himself up on trembling legs.
"Elius… he's incredible…" Lina whispered, holding her phantom chest, her eyes glassy.
"But he's… he's not talking," Klee said softly. "He's not yelling. He's not smiling. Something's wrong…"
The clone turned toward them—and then raised one leg.
He stomped once, making a loud, echoing thud on the blade beneath him.
Then he pointed to the tunnel behind them.
Run.
"Wait… what? You want us to go?" Shiro frowned. "But—"
"You're staying to fight?" Ron gasped.
"NO!" Lina shouted. "That's suicide!"
But the clone didn't answer.
He couldn't.
Instead, he turned his back to them.
The massive goblin was already charging.
A blur of muscle and hate.
"WAIT, NO!" Klee screamed.
CRACK!
The goblin's club smashed down on the clone again—but this time, he didn't evade in time.
The blade under his foot wobbled—too slow.
THWACK!
It hit him directly in the side.
BOOM!
His body crashed into the ground like a comet, creating a crater in the dungeon floor.
Dust. Smoke. Debris.
And silence.
"No…" Shiro whispered.
"ELIUS!!" Ron roared.
"No no no no no no—!" Lina held her head, sobbing.
Suddenly—
The dust cleared.
The clone stood again.
Barely.
Half of his torso caved in, robes shredded, blue light leaking from his chest and leg.
But he stood.
And his four swords floated toward the others.
They began to shimmer… buzz… and then—
FWOOOSH!
They flew beneath each of them.
One by one, they were lifted.
Floating in the air—Ron, Lina, Shiro, and Klee all hovered, held up by the four swords.
"What—no! Let us help you!" Shiro shouted.
"I can fight—just give me a minute—!" Ron thrashed, claws swinging.
"Please!" Klee sobbed, her tiny fists beating the air.
But the clone ignored them.
He turned his broken body away.
One final sword remained at his side.
It hovered, twitching, like a faithful hound—ready to follow its master into death.
The others? They began to fly.
WHOOSH!
The four were carried on streams of air, zooming over the battlefield.
Past goblins.
Over burning corpses.
Through shattered stone corridors.
They were too exhausted to struggle.
Too broken to resist.
Lina buried her face in her arms.
Klee trembled silently.
Ron stared back at the clone—eyes wide.
Shiro clenched his fists, tears welling.
Below them, the ground vanished into tunnels.
They were flying.
But not free.
Because—
From the dark behind them…
The goblins gave chase.
Roaring.
Screaming.
Leaping over corpses, waving weapons, snarling and clawing at the walls.
Their numbers were endless.
Their hunger—unending.
Even as the clone stood alone behind them—broken, armless, barely alive—
They chased.
And they would not stop.
—
Meanwhile, the original Elius was speeding toward his team.
Toward his clone.
Toward the four companions who didn't yet know just how much he feared for them.
But just as he started to sprint—
SCREEECH!
A goblin lunged from the shadows. Its gnarled blade sliced toward his throat. Elius bent backward with a fluid motion, the rusty sword whooshing just an inch above his nose.
He used the momentum to twist midair, then—CLANG!
His floating sword zipped behind him and split the goblin's skull clean in half.
"I don't have time for you!" he growled, barely landing before three more goblins leapt from a crumbled ceiling hole.
"RAAAAHH!!"
Elius gritted his teeth and didn't slow. His body bent low, ducking the first club, then spun—SWISH!
The second goblin's head flew off its shoulders as his sword curved in from behind.
The third slashed at his ribs—
"Tch—!"
He twisted, letting it graze his shoulder—but kept running.
More footsteps.
Ten. No. Twenty. Thirty.
The further he ran, the more the corridor widened, and the more goblins poured from the sides like rats in a flood.
His mind raced faster than his legs.
"No… no, no, no—this wasn't supposed to happen. I calculated this. I used the right entrance. It should've taken me straight there!"
The sword beside him spun violently, chopping down another wave of goblins before they could surround him.
"Please… just hold out, Clone. Just a little longer…"
He darted left, spun, then jumped off a crumbling ledge to avoid a volley of arrows from below. The air itself seemed to be boiling with goblin screams.
Every corner.
Every ceiling.
Every stairwell—
They were everywhere.
CLANG! WHOOSH! SCREECH! THWACK!
His sword fought like a demon—spinning, slicing, guarding him like a guardian beast. But it wasn't enough.
They were multiplying.
The dungeon was spawning more. Every time he cleared ten, another fifty came.
Elius ducked under a thrown axe. It bounced off the wall. A goblin tried to skewer him mid-dash.
"Out of my way!"
He parried it with his hand, twisted his hip, and sent a straight kick through its chest.
CRACK!
The goblin collapsed in a bloody mess.
He didn't stop. Couldn't stop.
His heart was pounding.
But not from exhaustion.
From fear.
From that terrible realization—
If even one of them dies… I'm done for.
His hands clenched.
My father… he'll find out. He'll know. If they die, he'll have every reason to train me, saying I lacked training… it's going to be a problem. I'll be exposed!
"Damn it!" he cursed aloud.
More goblins ahead.
He slid on his knees, his sword forming a spinning wall behind him to stop the horde tailing him.
"Please…" he whispered, not sure if he was talking to the clone, to the dungeon, or to something else entirely. "Please keep them safe."
He began to pray.
Not to gods. He didn't believe in those anymore. Or maybe he does now.
He's willing to pray to anyone.
To any will, any force in the universe that could hear him.
"Let them live."
"Let them make it out alive."
"I'll do anything—just don't let them die."
"Lina… Klee… Shiro… Ron… you don't die in this place."
His eyes burned.
He gritted his teeth.
He was so close—he could feel it. But more goblins kept coming. His sword was losing speed. His qi reserves were draining.
Yet his legs refused to slow.
"Not today. Not like this. Let me make it in time!"
—
BOOM!
Back at the battlefield, Elius's clone skidded back, the shockwave of the massive goblin's club sending him flying.
His body bounced once, then twice across the ground like a ragdoll.
His ribs were shattered, left leg nearly torn off, and his chest heaved with phantom breaths he no longer needed.
But he stood again.
He held no arms. No voice.
Just one sword left.
But even now, he didn't retreat.
Across the battlefield, the massive goblin howled, then began charging once more.
And the clone met him.
He jumped on his sword, and again soared—jumping off the blade, slashing downward, dodging a sweeping attack midair by backflipping and landing on the goblin's shoulder.
The sword spun up and sliced downward into the beast's back.
ROOOOOAAARRR!!
It slammed its head backward—
CRACK!
The clone was sent flying, spinning end over end, blood trailing in arcs.
He slammed into a stone pillar and slumped—but again, he stood.
Meanwhile—
Far above and away from the clone, in the air, four figures soared.
On spinning swords, Ron, Lina, Shiro, and Klee were being carried away like children on invisible wings.
But they weren't calm.
They weren't relieved.
They were crying.
"He's… he's going to die down there!" Ron screamed, fists pounding the air.
"Why didn't he let us stay?!" Shiro shouted, voice cracking. "We could've helped!"
"He… he didn't even say goodbye…" Lina whispered. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Her fingers clawed at her own dress, trembling.
Klee just buried her face in her knees, sobbing uncontrollably. "I don't want him to die… I don't want him to die…"
"Damn it—damn it—DAMN IT!" Ron shouted.
They imagined.
They imagined him fighting from far away.
Every time the sword curved, they could imagine his figure—bloodied, barely moving—dodging, fighting, protecting them.
"Why won't these damn swords turn around?!" Shiro howled.
"We're running away… and he's still there…" Lina sobbed.
Below them, goblins screamed and hissed, still chasing them like a flood.
And then—
The speed changed.
The sword under them began to falter.
Slow.
Slower.
Slower.
Klee opened her teary eyes. "Why are we slowing down…?"
Ron looked behind them—and his heart dropped.
"They're catching up."
A tidal wave of goblins was closing in.
Hundreds of them.
Thousands.
And the four could only watch…
…as the edge of death crept closer.
And their protector… was no longer with them.