The scent of death clung to the damp air, thick and suffocating. Crimson streaks marked the jagged stone walls where Clay had passed, remnants of his relentless path through the dungeon. His grey eyes glinted coldly as he advanced through the narrow passageway, each step deliberate, each breath steady.
Blood dripped from the edge of his dagger, pooling at his feet with every step. He hadn't bothered to clean it after the last ambush. The crimson stains on his clothes and skin were a warning—anyone foolish enough to cross him would share the fate of those now lying in pieces behind him.
Clay's ears caught the faint, irregular scuffling ahead. Shadows danced along the walls, twisted by the flickering torchlight. His grip tightened around the hilt of his blade.
The passage widened into another chamber, this one filled with jagged stone pillars slick with moisture. A group of figures stood in the center, their crude weapons gleaming ominously in the dim light.
Kael's voice echoed through the cavern, smooth and venomous. "There he is. Took you long enough, Clay."
Clay's eyes swept the scene: Kael stood near the back, shielded by four heavily armed mercenaries. Blood smeared their armor, trophies from previous battles—or perhaps just sadistic pleasures.
"You're persistent," Kael sneered. "I'll give you that. But persistence without brains? That just gets you killed."
Clay said nothing. His expression remained blank, unreadable, though inside, rage simmered like molten steel.
One of the mercenaries, a hulking brute wielding a spiked mace, stepped forward with a cruel grin.
"You don't look so tough," the brute growled, his voice rough as gravel. "Bet your insides spill just like the others."
Clay moved without warning.
A blur of motion—too fast for the mercenary to react. The dagger flashed through the dim light, slicing clean through the brute's exposed throat.
Blood sprayed in a violent arc, painting the stone floor red. The mercenary gurgled, his hands clawing uselessly at his neck as he collapsed in a heap.
The remaining mercenaries hesitated, eyes wide with shock.
"You still want to talk?" Clay asked coldly, his voice devoid of emotion.
The second mercenary, a wiry man with twin blades, let out a roar and charged. His weapons moved in rapid, precise arcs meant to overwhelm any opponent.
But Clay wasn't just any opponent.
He ducked beneath the first swing, his dagger slicing across the man's thigh. The mercenary stumbled, blood gushing from the deep wound. Before he could recover, Clay drove the blade upward into his ribcage, twisting it savagely.
A wet, choking sound escaped the man's lips as his body convulsed. Clay yanked the dagger free, letting the corpse fall to the ground with a sickening thud.
The metallic tang of blood thickened the air.
Kael's smug grin faltered.
"Kill him!" Kael barked, desperation creeping into his voice.
The last two mercenaries rushed forward together, hoping to overwhelm Clay through sheer force.
Clay's mind was calm, focused. His Domination skill pulsed faintly beneath his consciousness, urging him to unleash its full power—but he resisted.
This fight was his.
The first mercenary swung a heavy axe, aiming for Clay's head. Clay sidestepped the blow with ease, his dagger flashing out to sever the tendons in the man's wrist.
The axe clattered to the floor as the mercenary screamed, clutching his ruined arm.
Clay didn't waste time. He drove his knee into the man's stomach, doubling him over, then finished him with a brutal slash across the throat.
The final mercenary hesitated, fear flickering in his eyes.
Clay's expression was merciless. "Run," he said softly.
The man didn't need to be told twice. He turned and fled, his footsteps echoing through the cavern.
Kael stood alone now, his face pale and slick with sweat.
"You... you don't have to do this," Kael stammered, stepping backward. "We can make a deal. I—"
Clay was on him before he could finish.
He slammed Kael against the stone wall, the tip of his blood-stained dagger pressing against the traitor's throat.
"You set me up," Clay said quietly, his voice deadly calm. "You led me into an ambush."
Kael swallowed hard, panic gleaming in his eyes. "It was just business, Clay! You understand that, right? Nothing personal!"
Clay's lips curled into a cold smile. "It's personal now."
For a moment, silence hung between them, heavy and suffocating.
Then Clay lowered the dagger.
"You're not worth killing," he said coldly. "But if I see your face again…"
He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I won't be so generous."
Kael trembled, nodding frantically. "Y-yeah… got it."
Clay released him with a shove, turning his back on the defeated traitor.
The path forward lay open, marked by blood and victory.
And Clay was just getting started.