Drake descended into the shadowy depths of the cave. The dry air changed, and the temperature rapidly dropped. He cautiously chose each step he took. The walls around now were slick with moisture and shimmered under the dim glow of his belt lantern. An unsettling, claustrophobic feeling hung in the air.

  Shadows shifted and swayed menacingly around him, while the faint echoes of dripping water formed a haunting, rhythmic backdrop as he journeyed forth into the pitch-black abyss. The knowledge of this place gave no respite. It could be the base of operation of some vile organization. The sigil of a serpent devouring its tail flickered in his mind. A memory of three years ago only fueled his resolve.

  “Stay alert. This place is definitely… strange,” Jake suddenly resurfaced, as he felt the dread in the air. A sudden chill ran down Drake’s spine. The young warrior felt a faint echo of the man’s memory resonating deep within his mind. That must remind him of that place… It was a good call to split and send them the other way. The girls should reach the summit soon.

  Clutching his axes tightly, he navigated the narrower, damp tunnels. The unpleasant smell of rotting flesh hit his nostrils from afar. He was getting closer. But he could not have been prepared for the horrifying scene that awaited ahead.

  Just as he rounded a sharp bend, dread gripped his throat like a vice. Before him lay a grim corridor lined with heavy iron bars. A long block of cells that held imprisoned beastfolk.

  What are they doing here… Who did this?! SCUM! Can feel Jake raging inside. Drake tried to organize his clouded thoughts while a sickening stench of despair and decay hung thick in the air. Oppressive enough to choke him in place.

  Slowly, he examined the cells. His heart shrank at the harrowing sight of the malnourished and already dead captives within. Their hollow gazes met his with a haunting blend of terror and flickering hope, their bodies frail and battered. Some who were still alive but reached the point beyond salvation.

  The palpable stillness of approaching death lingered in the dank space like a grim specter claiming its victims. The stench forced it into his nostrils harder with every step. Drake could barely hold it, fighting with the gagging reflex as his stomach contorted.

  Witnessing such cruelty, both rage and despair clawed mercilessly at his heart. The agonizing realization that these beings, once filled with life and boundless energy, had been reduced to mere shadows with hollow eyes that prayed for salvation or death. For the young man is was too much to bear.

  The whirlwind of emotions, like a raging storm, consumed his mind. Sick fucks! What were they doing with them? Are they slavers? Why is everyone so battered? Are those sliced bodies? Missing limbs… How could someone be so cruel? What type of twisted creature does one have to be to be capable of such evil… Unforgivable… Unforgivable… UNFORGIVEABLE! I must get rid of them! Are they here?!

  His emerald eyes widened. His gaze changed as the pupils dilated for a moment, then thinned, stretched, and vertically slit. The hues of orange glow emanate from his eyeballs.

  But will that be justice? Yes, it has to. But… Do they even deserve an easy death?! Should I just strip them of every bit of blood, slowly, making them suffer before their last breath?

  Arrrhh… Fuck! FUCK! what is this? My head burns! Why do I suddenly feel so wobbly? Drake covered his face with his hands. Struggling with the waves of memories, emotions, and flashes. Jolts of pain and electricity coursed through his body. He could feel the heat rising from within. As if someone dropped him into the boiling water.

  A fierce fury rampaged within him, looking for a release. He slashed his axes left and right with mad, uneven dashes. Breaking bars and stone walls that were in the way. The young warrior was panting, his breathing hot and heavy. The thumping heart was ready to burst out of his chest any moment.

  Just before he was about to make another swing, his hand stopped, as if someone grabbed it. As he turned his gaze, he saw the translucent blue hand squeezing his forearm. The silhouette of a man, like a mythical fog in the air, was standing beside him. W-what?! Jake?!

  “Listen to me, boy, concentrate on my voice. You must not let emotion take over your judgment.” The man said with a cold, calculated tone. Drake looked puzzled as he slowly lowered his axe.

  “How? Is this real? I can see you.” The orange glowing eyes questioned, struggling to comprehend.

  “No idea. I just felt I had to stop you. It seemed like I could reach out my hand… I may be partially responsible for your outburst. For a moment my emotions were clouded too; it seemed like they mixed with yours. I’ve seen some things even worse than this… Yet it was never easy. For now, just take a breather. Think clearly for a moment. There are many still alive. You can save them. Will deal with our issues later.” The lips moved, and the silhouette of a man vanished as if like a mist sucked back.

  Drake rubbed his eyes, just to make sure. He took a deep, cool breath, calming the energy circulating in his body, regaining balance. The warrior loosened the grip slightly. Damn, what was that… And I need to do better, or that can happen again. Take hold of yourself, Drake!

  The young warrior straightened up, right before a cell with thick, reinforced metal bars. Even the one with the lowest magical aptitude could feel the strong magic seals applied to make sure the prisoner held there never even dreamed about escape. Curled in the corner was a figure still clinging to the fading remnants of strength.

  “Rotten bastards! What did they want to achieve by this?” Drake's voice was still full of anger and disgust.

  “You know, lad. This may not be the worst thing we will witness today.” Jake guessed, making sure the boy was ready for what’s laid ahead. His voice was reinforced with the notion of support.

  “It’s just… Look at this! Why… Why would someone do it? What’s even the goal?” The young warrior's features twisted and twitched. He still could not believe what he saw. His mind refused to accept the reality.

  “Believe me when I tell you that I know how you feel. You know it too well. Your emotions are still a mess. Just concentrate on the goal ahead now. Think not about what-ifs and whys. But about that, you can still do it for them. That is the most important thing, for now.” The man’s voice sounded cool and calculated, yet with the feeling of empathy.

  “But…” Drake lowered his head before quickly raising it up. “Yes, yes, you’re right!” The young emerald eyes glimmered with resolve.

  “Listen, you are young now. But you have already tasted the bitterness of this world before. Sadly, it will not wait for the fainthearted. You have to steel yourself for things to come.” Jaked signed.

  “Soon, you will come to realize… Any world is inherently an evil, twisted place. You may meet people who claim this has a purpose. Some will find joy in things like that. Some will do it for money, and some just do it for the sake of doing it, for pure malice. What you can do is decide where you stand in all of this mess. No more, no less…” The words sounded deep and heavy, rising from the deepest corners of his mind.

  “Where do I stand?” Drake paused for a moment, looking at the person curled in the corner of the cell, his gaze fixated on the profile devoured by shadows. “Place… I know my place well. I will be the one who does not stand idly in the face of cruelty. Be the one who can shield the less fortunate ones and the ones I hold dear!” He slapped over his chest with his fist.

  “We have to find the ones responsible. And we will wipe them out with fire. One by one!” The young man grunted out loud, with a voice full of resolve and determination, resonating through the dark corridor and reaching every cell.

  “Good! You finally came to your senses. Let's get to business. Go get them, boy!” The man in the young warrior’s head sounded weirdly excited.

  This spectacle in the narrow corridor caught the attention of all the prisoners. As low, husky whispers intensified, more gazes from behind the bars were fixed on Drake. That was when the person in the front cell rolled over, brushing off her sleep.

  Drake’s eyes opened like wells as he grasped. The ears, the robe… What?! How could this be!

  Leaning closer to make sure, a jolt of recognition shuddered through him. There was no doubt. There in the cell, on the muddy floor with nothing but a brown cloth, was lying a known adventurer. And not just someone. Her name was recognized well throughout the guild.

  At merely eighteen, she still exuded a fierce spirit that defied her dire circumstances. Drake’s gaze stopped at the unruly, dirty, long red hair that cascaded around her face. Wild and untamed, mirroring her indomitable essence. Her golden-hued skin with dark bruised and dirt patches retained an ethereal beauty. She looked both haunting and inspiring, even in this filthy and dismal prison.

  She was the famous beast-folk young pride. An adventurer, a fiery hand-to-hand martial arts combat specialist, Corella Firch.

  But now she was there, on the dirty blanket, with a chain clutched to her ankle rooted into the wall. Half of her face illuminated by the dim light revealed a tapestry of freckles over her cheeks.

  And despite the dire circumstances, her striking features still radiated an undeniable strength. They must have tried to break her. I can’t make myself look at all those wounds and bruises. She’s alive, is what matters. I have to help her now!

  Like catching something with her nose, the young woman turned her eyes towards the young warrior. It was as if she looked through the shroud of thick fog, beyond the man before her. Yet Drake could clearly see the ever-bright flicker of determination in those eyes. The unyielding spirit that could not be broken, even while she shimmered with sorrow. It was a scream. Alive! Defiant! Unyielding! A spark against an encompassing darkness and death around.

  “Corella!” he called softly, his voice barely above a whisper, like to avoid disturbing the silent suffering of the others nearby. She looked up, her yellow-golden eyes widening in a mixture of surprise and dizziness, mirroring the flickers of his lantern and his face.

  “You… You’re not one of them. Who… who the hell are you?!” She rasped, her voice carrying the mark of her captivity, laced with a mix of fear and longing. “Are you really here? Came to help? Oh, hard to see… your face. Pristine armor, axes. An adventurer. I must be dreaming. Just an illusuon” She murmured to herself as she lowered her head.

  “No! No! You’re not dreaming. I am really here! I’m going to help!” Drake cut her off louder. As he assured her with a steady voice. Inhaling deeply, he examined the bars once again. Should be fine!

  “Don’t worry, I’ll get you out now.” Without pausing, he grabbed the massive padlock in his hand, and with all his strength, he crushed it to bits. Metal pieces clanged over the floor with a puff of metal dust.

  It appeared like the very core of the matter was just destroyed under the strength of his mighty grip filled with anger. The urgency for rescue outweighed any reservations Drake had harbored before.

  But just as he felt, the lock was just a mere decoration. The reinforced bars and the door stood still. Cemented in place by the strong magical seals.

  “Stand back,” he shouted. The air was thick with electrifying power, and his voice was like the strong gust of wind of freedom.

  With swift motion, he summoned his power and precision honed through battles and training. Swinging his axes, he struck the reinforced bars in a cross arc with a return swing. They did not barge. Sparks exploded everywhere. Yet the axes left nothing but barely visible scratches. The magic seals were preventing his obsidian from penetrating deep enough.

  Drake summoned all the available strength in his body. Directing the energy to his arms, veins popped, and his muscles tensed like tempered steel. As he stacked physical enhancement. But he aimed to tap even deeper.

  With that, he felt something in his core shift. What’s this, my heart… The next time he inhaled, unfiltered power filled him. His next swing, along with his arms, was enveloped in the golden glow of a visible, thick aura.

  A thunderous roar hammered through the cells, shaking the stone walls of the corridor. And the bars help power no more. His steel had penetrated the magic barrier, which exploded from a sudden release. The axes shattered the reinforced-steel bars like glass the moment the sharp edges touched them. The small pieces fell on the floor like chimes. He stood there with the way fully opened.

  The young feline Corella raised her frozen gaze with awe at the glowing determination of Drake's emerald eyes. Fixed on a single mission that manifested into the fierce explosion of power to destroy all restraints holding her captive. He stepped inside, and with another precise swing, he broke the shackles that restrained her in place.

  She felt like the warmth of the world returned to her heart. As the hope to see the meadows and valleys of her homeland again evolved into reality right before her eyes. The heavy weight fell off her shoulders. She used her strength to straighten herself up. She looked strong and proud again. As she smiled, Corella could barely hold the tears welling in her eyes.

  Drake nodded in affirmation. As he rushed to the other cells. Like a hypnotized maniac, he swung and cursed while juggling with his axes expertly in his hands. Slicing the metal cages in a symphony of broken steel. None of the bars and chains could restrain their captives anymore.

  And in no time, he cleared more than twenty prison cells of the captive. All of that became no more than stony openings in the cave walls. The survivors were slowly regaining their senses, looking around, checking if it was not another of their dreams or hallucinations.

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  Finally, his frenzy ended. The young warrior breathed deeply, his hands still trembling. It felt as if applying more power the handles would snap.

  Swiftly he returned to Corella. The woman was looking better now. Stretching his hand out he offered her to finally step outside.

  “Let’s get you and everyone else out of here.” The young warrior said with a warm smile.

  Corella stood, unsteady but resolute, her fighting robes hugging her slightly malnourished yet still strong visage.

  “Thank you,” her voice hushed from hard torture and time spent in the dirty, wet, cold cell. “I have long accepted the fact that I will die in this wretched place. I don’t think I can ever thank you enough. We’d all be dead if not for you…” She murmured, her voice growing clearer by the minute, imbued with newfound determination.

  Drake helped her out, supporting her with his shoulder. “No thanks required. Anyone sane enough would do the same. I’m just glad that I managed. But not for everyone…” He lowered his gaze as he looked over a few scattered dead bodies of the unfortunate ones.

  “I don’t think I would forgive myself if I came even a moment later.” He locked his gaze with hers. His eyes were wells of sorrow and defeat.

  Without a warning, she jumped over the young man as she hung herself on the mighty form of her savior. Corealla hugged him with all her strength, her sharp nails like talons screeching over the black armor. Her embrace still felt like the strong vise that would crush the bones of any normal person.

  She did not intend to let go. The warmth of another person's filled her with happiness and ease. Something she had craved for so long in this dark and wretched place.

  Caught by surprise and puzzled for a moment, Drake felt the need to comfort her, or rather the person who went through hell. He felt that he could relate, so he recalled what he needed in that moment. The young warrior gave her a few soft strokes and pats over her back. He body felt warm and tender.

  “It’s going to be fine, don't worry!” He said in a warm, husky voice.

  The feline girl clanged hard against the warrior’s chest with her face. Tears started to fall from her big, yellow, feral eyes. “Thank you… Thank you… Thank you!” she repeated over and over again, shuddering and trembling, suffocating with hiccups, suddering.

  Drake did not move as he continued to comfort her. What am I supposed to do… Fuck, we should have gone here right straight from the Welberg office.

  It took her a few moments to finally get to her senses again and calm down. And after another moment, the renowned adventurer within her reemerged. As the one who felt extremely embarrassed and apologized for what had happened repeatedly.

  Drake only chucked slightly and gave her a nod oof acceptance.

  After gathering all the supervisors, Drake told them what to do. He contacted Helena and Valentina through the in-ear communication stone. His comrades verified that the passage to the top led to an opening over a small cliff. That summit appeared to be a safe enough place, elevated atop the tree crowns of the Gemaing Forest. The Vellos Keep was even visibleon the horizon.

  The young warrior was more than surprised to hear that they met someone. A fellow elf adventurer. And he came in search of his lost brethren.

  Damn, this is getting more complicated by the minute. Drake noted ot himself.

  Quickly they agreed to lead the survivors out and reassess their options after. But just before they were about to depart, it was interrupted. Three dark, hooded figures emerged from the end of the passage curve, followed by six snarling death hounds, their eyes ablaze with primal hunger.

  Drake’s eyes were glued to the telling detail of their uniforms. On each of their dark garments, a crest of a snake devouring its tail pierced by the spear was sewn with silver-green threads.

  Three men gazed back, and the air thickened with tension, electric and palpable as wicked blades caught the dim light, flickering with clear killing intent. Those claimed many lives… The young warrior turned back to Corella.

  “Here, take this. Just put it in your ear. Tap and hold it with your finger to say something. My companions will hear and answer. They will guide you out of the place.” The young adventurer threw her a small, polished stone. Without turning, he rushed towards hooded figures at the end of the passage.

  They didn't seem like they were chasing or facing the young warrior. Eagerly waiting without making a move. The death hounds mouths opened as they grinned and grunted. Yet no lunge followed. A display of total control over the beasts by their masters.

  “But I still can help you fight!” The fierce feline warrior objected with determination in her voice.

  “I know that well, but for now, you need to protect your brethren. Get them out. There's no need to worry. I'll take care of those bastards fast and catch up to you!” A warrior responded with hints of playfulness in his voice. He took a peek over his shoulder and gave her a reassuring wink.

  “Ugh, fine… Just don’t die! I still owe you a great debt. No way I will leave it unpaid.” Corella smiled softly as she urged a few dozen survivors to follow her. The group of beastfolk disappeared into the darkness of the tunnel.

  Now, there’s only us left. Let’s get this over with. Drake tightened the grip of his axes, using a compact battle stance. The cold against his palms, igniting his surge. Three hooded figures stood there, with the one in front proudly putting his chest forward as he juggled his dagger in hand.

  Hesitation was not allowed to take root. With a fierce grunt, Drake dashed forward, turning into a blur of motion and purpose. The hooded man barely had a moment to react. In a single lightning-fluid motion, Drake’s axe sliced through the air, landing squarely on the tenderness of the neck.

  Blood gushed out like a fountain. The man crumbled instantly, lifeless, the shock reverberating in the silence that followed. Crimson splashes covered the stony walls of the passage, slowly dripping to the floor. The severed head rolled over as the cape fell off. Wide-open, lifeless, rolled-up eyes looked into the abyss. The mouth twisted to the side as the tongue fell out. It was death frozen in a moment.

  The two remaining hooded figures hesitated, disbelief etched upon them. A few fleeting seconds showed that their enemy was not an ordinary opponent. Two of the hounds looked like they were about to launch the attack, but just right before they sprang forward with their paws, snapping their jaws, one of the men waved his hand. Both stopped and scowled.

  Yet as soon as the lifeless, dismembered body fell on the floor, realization struck inside the young man’s mind…

  Was it… a p-person… D-did…di-did I just kill someone? No hesitation… I sliced at his neck. H-He’s really dead. The blood, the odor, the warmth… Strange… What are all those feelings...?

  His entrails twisted, like a den of snakes. It felt as if something big was rumbling inside, chewing. Moving, gnawing. His body spasmed. With acid at his throat, he felt the urge to throw up. Again and again he fought the shuddering sensation. His hands started to tremble. Sweat fell down his forehead.

  The bucket of reptiles inside his gut continued to swirl like a whirlpool. His chest felt heavy, like a gigantic anvil crushed against it, hindering his ability to breathe. All his muscles tensed, his consciousness clouded. It was as if he was about to faint just now.

  Drake’s grip on the axes softened. He leaned over the wall to support himself, slowly slumping down. He felt a trembling inside intensify as his palms were shaking. Slowly he slumped to his knees, one hand holding his head, another at his stomach.

  “Ah! Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuuuck! Not this. Shittiest shit! Snap out of it, kid! This is not the time to get hung up on that. Do you hear me?! Snap out! It’s not your first fight!” The young warrior felt that the man’s voice screamed inside his head. Yet it felt like nothing but a distant echo. While he tried to concentrate on the sound, the distance only grew.

  Hooded figures looked at each other as they shrugged and laughed. One of them broke the stillness of the silence.

  “Huh, so you're nothing but a stray mutt behind that warrior's facade. Hmm, must be your first kill, right?! What a joke! Ha-ha!” A high voice resounded mockingly.

  Another man butted in. “For a bloke so strong, you managed to surprise Drija. Yeet was nothing but a fluke. Tis your grave now.” The voice was full of mockery, but it was as if the person was missing teeth or part of the tongue.

  With waves of their hands, the hooded men commanded the death hounds to attack.

  Two of the hounds sprang with their paws like springs. Rushing towards the young warrior. With growling, they surged with snapping jaws. In a mere moment their teeth sunk deep into exposed skin, one at the adventurer's arm and another at his neck, drawing blood.

  The young man appeared not to notice or even care. It was as if all the pain was not a concern of his. His gaze already seemed empty and lifeless.

  Yet, with a twist of his hand, like pure reflex, he grabbed one of the hounds and crushed its head with the power of his grip. As he jerked the one gnawing at his hand, he grabbed it in his hands and ripped it apart like it was nothing but a piece of cloth. Painting his face in splashes of blood as the entrails fell on the floor with a wet thump. The hot acidic vomiting stench filled the air.

  With a timed command, four other hounds entered the fray by their master's orders. Drake sprang to his feet, gaze still drifting. Yet he spun gracefully, evading one of the hounds with a deft sidestep, the second narrowly missing its bite as he swung his left hand with an axe in a fatal arc across its throat, blood spraying like a mist.

  The young warrior's instincts seemed to have no end, fueled, as it seemed, not solely by the need to survive but by the muscle memory of every fight his body survived. Meticulously, yet like a lifeless puppet under control, he dispatched all the remaining beasts with masterful swings and a flurry of kicks. Predicting their movements, axes landed at their necks while his legs kicked the cadavers away while still airborne.

  All the blood in Drake’s deep wounds had already coagulated. Wounds already started healing. He was bleeding no more. Only the dry, dark red ribbons that went down over his forearms and face could remind them about the recent damage.

  Dark hooded men were stunned. As if they were outplayed and outmatched. Their minds raced for the answers. Did the boy just pretend to look weak? Was he maybe a masochist that liked getting injured? Or was it a cunning plan that made them put their guard down? The fear quickly filled their hearts, sending shivers down their spines. What they felt the next moment was just pure dread, the impending boots of doom coming for them.

  They could not control their bodies anymore. Stumbling upon one another, the men turned around and tried to run. Yet, it was already far too late.

  The young adventurer lunged forward with explosive power and agility. The steady footing allowed him to spring himself forward with just as much force and speed as he needed. Drake pirouetted forward over the hooded figures and landed right in front.

  With a single signature double swing, two heads rolled as one down on the floor. The young warrior exhaled a hint of blue mist. The justice was delivered. Sentence was served with death!

  The two headless bodies made a few more wobbly steps forward before collapsing over the stones in lifeless motion. A multitude of bloodstreams flowed between the crevices, creating significant puddles. Easily reaching the soles of the young warrior’s boots, which stood there with an empty gaze in the pool of crimson.

  After a few moments, Drake’s gaze cleared out. The haze in his vision disappeared, and he slowly found his senses. The fog within his brain had cleared out. He could now feel his heavy breathing and uneven, drumming heartbeat.

  Still, the turmoil continued to rage like a storm inside his soul. His mind was a kaleidoscope of events and memories jumbled into a murky mass. As the young warrior tried to think, he found it hard even at the notion of a thought. He felt like it was hard to even exist.

  “Hey, hey, breathe deep, lad. Relax, relax now! It’s fine. It's past now. Steady, slowly. Listen to my voice, lock into it.” Jake's echoes inside Drake's head were unusually muffled but soothing. Soon Drake was able to concentrate on the sound of the man’s voice making it clearer.

  “What?… In eight hells… W-was… That. Did you control my body?” The young man asked, his voice unsteady and trembling. He gazed through the palm of his hand, brushing it as if to make sure it was not an illusion.

  “Sorry, Drake, had no choice. You were completely gone. There was no guarantee you would be able to fight and survive. I had to do something, so I took the risk. But I think it worked only because your psyche, how to say… Retreated at that moment.” The voice in his head sounded quite concerned.

  “Ah, I see. So that was… Yeah, yeah, I understand it now.” Drake paused. He pressed at his temples. The buzzing did not stop.

  The young warrior brushed the blood off his armor with the cloth and fastened a few leather belts. Making sure everything was in place. This gave him enough time to dfit away and finally get a grip.

  “Listen, Jake.” He started slowly, carefully.

  “Yeah, is there something you want to ask? Out with it, boy!” Jake replied with a hint of frustration.

  “Well, you see. That, that bizarre space. When you took control, it felt as if I'd been swallowed by the abyss and pulled into that palce? Is it actually where you come back? Like, when you go to rest. Is it where you reside?” The young man tried to find the words, but they kept eluding him, as the lump formed at his throat.

  “Huh, so you’ve been there, interesting. What can I say? Should be something like. Welcome to my world, lad! Yeah, that place is where I live, inside your cracked skull, so to say.” The man’s voice was colored with undertones of bitterness and happiness at the same time.

  Wow, how can you be so casual about that? Like, isn't it a fucking big deal?! That is straight-up madhouse purgatory. I can still feel the chills. Damn… He always sounds completely sane. He must have the strongest will in the universe. Holly shi!

  “Ekh, listen. I'm sorry you are having to go through something like that. So I wanted to thank you. You know, I really mean it, Jake. Without you, I would have died… more than once…” Drake examines stones, red with coagulated jelly-like blood.

  “Ah, I see. No thanks needed. I’m doing everything at my own will. Or at least I want to believe so. That would be unfair to say that I have chosen everything of that, but, I mean, I have actually died.” Jake paused. While Drake still wrestled with his conflicted emotions.

  “Dadman’s choices are quite limited, as you saw for yourself. But don’t get hung up on that. The least I can do now is to make sure you live. You better forget that place.” Jakes played with the words carefully. Allowing the young man to breathe.

  “Arkh, man, to be honest. I… I have zero fucking clue what to say. It’s like I still can't understand. After, after… I killed that guy… It all was so different, not like killing the monster. But the next thing I remember is that face staring back at me, those hollow eyes that sent shivers and dread right into my soul. It was only, only a few moments that felt like eternity when I was back. You already took care of everything. What a mess!” Drake kicked a stone in frustration.

  “Tell me! Why is it so different? To see, to know an actual person died from your blade… I moved instinctively, but only after I realized…” The young warrior’s shoulders slumped as he gritted his teeth. He growled and let out a loud shout.

  “Because it is different. It varies for everyone, but it's just how our minds work. This is our default setting. A human nature. Unless you possess weird deviations, you can’t simply do it and feel nothing.” Jake struggled hard to find the right words.

  Drake clenched his fist. “So, will this always be the same for me? How can I overcome it?” The young warrior’s voice was full of doubts.

  “Look, lad, I’m… I’m not sure you’re asking the right person. But I will tell you.” The voice paused for a moment, gathering the thoughts or the courage.

  “The more it happens, the easier it will become. Still, there will be certain… Hmm, parts. Parts of yourself, things that you will have to sacrifice. To hold on and not become the very monsters you fight. But remember this lesson well. If you truly want to protect the ones you hold dear, to protect the innocent. You’ll have to cross this bridge. It's a simple equation. Some have to die so others may live. Just make sure it's your hand that is the one to choose.” The voice echoed with the weight the young man never felt before.

  “I see it clearly now. I understand. Thanks for sharing. Jake, please, make sure my resolve does not waver if I’m falling astray. I’ll etch this moment into my mind to get rid of any doubts. To root out the weeds of evil, one's hands can’t stay clean.” A young adventurer declared in full force.

  “Yeah, that’s it! Now these are the words of a man, not of a boy. I’ll do my best, but I will never force your hand. Time to go. We wasted enough time!” Jake’s voice sounded excited.

  “Yup, let’s move. Still, we are not going back. Not yet! I have an idea; I need to check something.” Drake said with resolve, as a cunning smirk covered the corners of his lips.

  Before departing, the young warrior leaned closer to the ground. Drake closely examined the twisted expressions on the freshly chopped-off heads. In those lifeless eyes, he could still see the essence of frozen-in-time primal fear mirrored in their eyes. He watched them for a moment, burning the picture deep into his memory.

  So he walked further without turning back. Bloody footprints followed his trail.

  The final revision and update for RR of this chapter was done!

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