The Last Nightmare

The air around Nate was still, heavy with the scent of blood. The battlefield was eerily quiet, save for the soft rustling of wind through the trees. His heart pounded in his chest as he stared down at the lifeless body of the goblin. The monster's blood pooled around its broken form, the crimson liquid a stark contrast against the dirt beneath it. It had been a brutal fight—his first real one. Every fiber of his being had screamed as he fought to survive, pushing his limits with every swing of his sword. He had barely made it out alive. The goblin, though weak by monster standards, had nearly killed him. Yet, here he was, standing over it, a survivor.

Nate inhaled sharply, forcing himself to steady his breath, and his eyes flickered over the monster's body. He had done it. He had defeated the goblin. The rush of triumph was muted by the overwhelming feeling of disbelief. His hands still trembled slightly, not from fear, but from the sheer adrenaline coursing through his veins. He had fought a creature much stronger than him, and he had won.

But was it enough?

His thoughts swirled, a haze of confusion and exhilaration. The goblin had been nothing more than an F-rank monster—the weakest of the weak—but the fight had nearly broken him. He hadn't been prepared. His sword had been sluggish, his movements too slow, and the goblin's agility had caught him off guard. Yet in the end, the monster had fallen. Why? Why had he managed to win?

Was it luck? Or…

Nate's eyes drifted to the goblin's chest, where the wound he had inflicted was now dark and gaping. Beneath the surface, there was something more. Something valuable. He had heard about it, had been told about it years ago, but never truly understood. The core.

The core.

His father's words echoed in his mind, sharp and clear: "Monsters… they all have a core inside them. That's where their power comes from. But only the rich or powerful can afford to buy them."

At the time, Nate hadn't paid much attention. He had been too young, too ignorant of the world around him. But now, as he stood over the goblin's corpse, the weight of his father's words settled heavily in his chest. He had heard of monster cores—the powerful, glowing stones that contained the essence of a monster's strength. They were what gave monsters their power, and without them, the creatures would be nothing more than shells. But the core wasn't just a biological curiosity. It was currency, a valuable resource that could be traded, sold, or even absorbed to increase one's own power. Nate had never truly understood its importance until now.

This is it, he thought, his gaze hardening. This is what I need.

He had no time to waste. His fingers trembled as he knelt beside the goblin's body, his eyes scanning for the core. The wound he had inflicted was deep, and though the goblin's blood had begun to clot, the monster's body still radiated some strange, almost palpable energy. He pressed his fingers against the flesh, searching for the small stone he knew was there. His heart raced with anticipation, and his breath quickened as he felt it—the core. It was small but pulsed with energy, hidden beneath the gnarled skin. Nate's hand hovered over the area for a moment, his fingers brushing against the goblin's ribs.

I've got this. Just a little more.

With a careful motion, he drew his katana and began to slice through the monster's flesh. His movements were slow.

Nate began to carve away the goblin's chest, his heart pounding in anticipation. He wasn't sure how long it would take, but he knew he couldn't afford to waste any more time. The core was valuable. It could be sold for a small fortune—or, if he was brave enough, he could absorb it himself and increase his own strength.

The goblin's body yielded to his blade as he carved through the thick layer of skin and bone, his heart pounding in his chest.

It took him several minutes of careful cutting to expose the core, but eventually, his dagger met its mark. The core was small, about the size of a fist, and it glowed with a faint, pulsating light. Its color was a mixture of green and black, swirling together in a hypnotic pattern that seemed almost alive. As Nate carefully extracted it from the creature's body, he could feel its energy humming beneath his fingertips.

This is power. This is what I need.

His fingers wrapped around the core, the smooth surface warm against his skin. For a moment, he simply stared at it, mesmerized by its beauty and potential. His father had always spoken about the cores in hushed tones, as though they were something dangerous. They were coveted by the rich, by those with the means to buy them. But for Nate, it wasn't about wealth. It was about survival. It was about strength.

But should I absorb it?

The thought lingered in his mind, unspoken but undeniable. Absorbing a monster's core was a common practice among the strongest warriors, those who sought to increase their strength. It was a dangerous process, one that could result in death or madness if the person wasn't prepared. There were tales of people who had tried to absorb too much, who had lost their sanity or died from the overload of power. Yet, for someone like Nate, someone who had nothing, the temptation was too great to ignore.

Could I do it?

He knew it would be risky. But there was no other choice. He couldn't keep relying on others for help. He needed to grow stronger, faster, or he would die in this harsh world. His mind raced as he considered the possibilities.

What if I absorb it? What if I sell it instead?

Selling the core was another option, one that was probably safer. The goblin's core, being F-rank, wouldn't fetch much on the market, but it would be something. It could buy him food, supplies, maybe even a better weapon. The thought of the gold and silver he could earn was appealing, but deep down, Nate knew he couldn't sell it. Not now. Not after everything he had gone through.

I'll sell it later, maybe when I'm stronger. For now, I need to focus on what's ahead.

With that decision made, he secured the core in a small pouch at his belt, tying it tightly to make sure it wouldn't fall out. His fingers lingered over the pouch for a moment longer, and then he stood, his eyes scanning the surrounding forest. The goblin was dead, but the dangers of the dungeon weren't over. There could be other creatures nearby, drawn by the scent of blood. Nate's heart still raced, his senses alert.

I need to leave. Now.

He took a deep breath and began walking back toward the dungeon's exit. The forest was eerily silent, save for the distant call of a bird. His steps were slow at first, but as he continued walking, they became more confident. His muscles still ached from the fight, but he couldn't afford to rest. Not yet. He had learned something today—something important. The goblin had been weak, but it had taught him a valuable lesson.

I can do this. I just need to be more careful.

His thoughts turned to the core again. His father had never told him much about the monster cores, but he had hinted at their value. He had spoken of them as though they were something to be wary of, but Nate wasn't afraid anymore. The core was a tool. It was power. He wasn't sure how he would use it yet, but he knew one thing: it was the key to his survival.

He was still a beginner, still weak compared to the monsters of this world. The goblin had been an easy kill in the grand scheme of things, but it had nearly killed him. He needed to grow stronger. He needed to train. He needed to find more cores, more monsters to fight.

But first, I need to understand how all of this works. How does the currency system work?

As Nate walked, the thought of the world's economy surfaced again. He had heard his father talk about currency before, but Nate had never really understood it. The simplest currency, the one he had heard the most about, was the diamond coin. One diamond coin was worth 100 gold coins. One gold coin, in turn, was worth 1,000 silver coins, and each silver coin could be divided into 1,000 bronze coins.

This complex system meant that even small amounts of monster cores could fetch a decent price, depending on the monster's rank. A goblin core, being F-rank, wouldn't be worth much—perhaps only a few silver coins or a handful of bronze at most. But the higher-ranked monsters could yield much more. The Nightmare Wolf, for instance, was classified as an E-rank monster. Its core was far more valuable, fetching upwards of 20 gold coins in the market. The higher the rank of the monster, the more valuable its core was.

But what's the point of all this? Nate mused. Why do the cores matter so much?

He had heard whispers in the markets about how people could absorb the cores to gain power, but his understanding was limited. The absorption process was said to be highly dangerous—those who absorbed too many cores risked damaging their body or even losing their mind. Yet, for someone in his position, the risk seemed like a necessary gamble. It was either grow stronger or perish in a world that showed no mercy.

As he continued his journey out of the forest, Nate's mind raced with possibilities. If he could collect monster cores and eventually sell them, he could make enough money to support himself and even improve his equipment. Or, if he felt brave enough, he could absorb them and increase his strength—if he had the fortitude to survive the process.

He clenched his fist around the pouch containing the goblin's core, feeling the faint pulse of energy inside.

I'll become stronger. I'll survive.

Nate pushed forward, determined. The future is uncertain.