The monsters were the size of small dogs, their appearance resembling that of a toddler, but their sharp black eyes and the fangs jutting out of their mouths were different. Imps. They were hairless and corded with muscles.
Atrox's clothes were already covered in brown blood, and five of the Imps lay in crumbled heaps around him. "Not bad. I can already feel the essence in my core increasing, but it's going to take time to fully get it filled."
He continued walking, his ears sharpened for anything that might jump out at him, his steps lightly echoing. Atrox considered just standing there and waiting for the monsters to come to him, but he shook off the notion and continued more slowly. He didn't want to go too deeply.
He heard scraping on the ground as clawed feet made their way toward him. He turned swiftly, but then he heard a sound from the wall beside him. Was that another from the roof?
Atrox threw himself to the side just as a blur of... what was that? The air shifted strongly as something surged past—darkness and writhing flesh that flashed claws at him.
Atrox moved backward and raised his weapon, his heart beating fast. This wasn't like the normal Imps. It was like a wave. The Imps had somehow climbed atop, around, and into each other to form a wave of gnashing fangs and claws.
His eyes locked on the wave in front of him. Now that he was looking at it, he saw that the Imps' wave almost reached the tunnel roof. "What was it they said? The Imps are weak individually, but together, they are terrifying enough to stop further exploration into the tunnel!"
Atrox spoke aloud to keep himself distracted. Numerous beady eyes opened and blinked at him. Then the Imps' wave wavered, entered the wall, and disappeared.
Atrox blinked. "Oh, I forgot they could pass through solid objects. But really, how did the wave do that? Are they like a hive mind or…?"
He had only a moment. The slight vibration on the ground warned him, and he flung himself forward into a roll just as the wave of Imps exploded beneath the ground. This time, they didn't just pass silently. The ground cracked, and sharp rocks were sent flying.
Atrox got a cut on the cheek, but other than that, he was fine. The wave vanished again, and he finally understood that he couldn't win—except if he used his Knight power, the power of the Squire.
Frankly speaking, all the Squire's abilities involved shaping pure essence to a desired effect, unlike the other ranks that had to be specific about their aspected essence to create techniques.
"It shouldn't be hard, right?" Atrox grimaced as the wave surged forward like a tide. No time to do anything else, he coiled his hand and flung his pickaxe upward where the wave would move next. The weapon slammed into the wall and cracked it, throwing down stones.
The monsters were too engrossed in him to notice in time, and the stones smashed into them, making them recoil and buying him time. But they quickly reformed, throwing away the dead Imps, and their different eyes locked on him.
Atrox shuddered. He regretted his decision to come here alone because now his weapon was gone. "And I've been starved of essence till recently. How am I going to get out of this?"
He was given no time to think about it as the monsters rolled toward him and surrounded him, their mouths opening toward him. He understood—they all wanted a taste of his flesh.
His heart was beating so fast it was the only thing he could hear, apart from the hiss from the Imps. Atrox reached inside himself blindly just as the wave collapsed on him.
He crouched and tucked his head between his hands and legs, guarding himself. Then the monsters were on him, and Atrox screamed as blinding, hot pain laced his body.
But his mind turned inward, gripping the essence he could clutch from his core. It was like trying to catch water with a knife. He touched it but couldn't gather it together.
In desperation, he touched something. A line? Lines? Instinctively, he knew they were the lines that carried essence to the rest of the body to empower it.
Atrox took those lines. He tugged and then pulled. His core reacted, and essence flowed out, tumbling like water from a dam. He didn't try to control it and instead let it surge together in one place—his chest.
Then he flung it out.
The wave had covered him, and because they were Imps, they took their time in killing him. That split second saved him—and became their doom.
He flung the wave of essence out, and suddenly his body was covered in blue-white light that blasted out in a ripple of shockwave. The ground and walls cracked sharply, painted in brown blood and pieces of flesh.
Atrox raised his head, his eyes glowing. The essence from the dead monsters rose and settled on him, filling his core to a quarter. But his head screamed in pain, and he groaned as he stood up, staggering and resting against the wall.
Mental fatigue was a thing that happened when one used their powers. Even with essence in their core, they still wouldn't be able to do much.
"I have to get out of here because this will draw more monsters." He hesitated. Should he continue or turn back? In the end, he settled for going back. "I'll take some time to recover. I should make do with what I have for now. I'll be back later for sure."
He picked his way over the bloodied ground, retrieved his pickaxe, hung it on his shoulder, and turned, quickly making his way back.
**
Silence reigned, but then something shifted in the air. The space took on a gleam, as if a great beast were breathing in. Air rushed inward, drawing blood and bits of flesh together with the little fragments of Atrox's essence that remained.
Suddenly, time seemed to freeze around the area, and things grew hazy. Then, just like that, things returned to normal.