The Last Nightmare

The forest felt different now.

The moment Nate stepped away from the goblin's corpse, the weight of his exhaustion crashed down on him like a falling boulder. His muscles ached with every step, his body still trembling from the brutal fight. The rush of adrenaline that had kept him standing was already fading, leaving behind nothing but a deep, bone-weary fatigue. He could still feel the sting of his wounds—shallow cuts along his arms, a deep bruise forming on his ribs where the goblin had landed a hit. He had barely survived. If that thing had been any stronger, he wouldn't be walking right now.

And yet, as he moved through the trees, he felt something else. A chill creeping down his spine.

Something was watching him.

Nate's grip tightened around his katana, his knuckles white. The scent of blood was thick in the air, the goblin's corpse still fresh behind him. He swallowed, forcing himself to focus. Blood drew predators. It didn't matter if it was a goblin or something stronger—where there was death, something always came to feast.

He moved faster. His legs protested, every muscle screaming for rest, but he pushed on. Just get out of the forest. If he could make it back to the dungeon's entrance, he could rest, regroup, maybe even sell the core.

Then he heard it.

A low, wet snarl.

Nate froze.

The sound was guttural, hungry—something between a growl and a gurgle. Close. Too close. His breath hitched as his eyes darted through the thick underbrush, scanning the darkness between the trees. Then, the bushes rustled. A shadow moved.

A pair of glowing yellow eyes locked onto his.

Scavenger.

His heart clenched. He had heard of them before—monsters that fed on the corpses of other creatures, including their own kind. They weren't particularly strong, classified as F-rank, just like the goblin. But the problem was that they never hunted alone.

A deep snarl ripped through the air, and the creature lunged.

Nate barely had time to react. He threw himself to the side as the scavenger's fangs snapped shut where his throat had been a second ago. It landed in front of him, its body low to the ground, muscles coiled like a spring.

It looked like a grotesque fusion between a hyena and a reptile. Its fur was patchy and mangy, with exposed, scaly flesh underneath. Its jaw was unnaturally wide, filled with jagged, uneven teeth that looked like they could tear through flesh in seconds. Its claws dug into the dirt, ready to pounce again.

Nate's breathing was ragged. He was already too tired. Too slow. If he had fought this thing before the goblin, it would have been fine. But now?

His fingers curled around the hilt of his katana. No choice. He had to fight.

The scavenger moved first.

It darted forward, fast—faster than the goblin. Nate barely raised his blade in time as the monster lunged, jaws snapping. He swung, aiming for its throat—but it was quicker.

The creature twisted mid-air, avoiding the slash, and slammed into him with its full weight.

The impact sent Nate crashing to the ground, the air driven from his lungs. His back hit the dirt hard, pain lancing through his already bruised ribs. Before he could recover, the scavenger was on top of him.

Teeth lunged for his face.

Move!

Nate thrust his forearm up, blocking the monster's mouth with the hilt of his katana. Its teeth scraped against the metal, drool dripping onto his face as it snarled, trying to bite down. His arms shook from the effort, his strength failing. He couldn't hold it back.

Desperation surged through him.

With a ragged yell, he twisted his body and brought his knee up—hard—into the creature's stomach.

The scavenger yelped, flinching just enough for Nate to push it off. He scrambled back, gasping for breath, his hands gripping his katana like a lifeline.

It's faster than me. Smarter, too. It had avoided his first strike completely. If he wanted to win, he had to be smarter. Think, damn it.

The monster circled him, low to the ground, saliva dripping from its mouth. Waiting. Watching. It wasn't like the goblin, which had charged in mindlessly.

It was studying him.

Nate tightened his stance. If it wanted to wait, he wouldn't give it the chance.

He lunged first.

His katana sliced through the air, aimed at the scavenger's legs. The monster leapt back, but Nate had expected that.

He twisted his body mid-motion, flipping his grip, and slashed upwards.

The tip of his blade caught the scavenger's chest.

A deep gash split across its flesh.

The creature screeched, stumbling back. Its yellow eyes blazed with fury. Nate could see the raw wound on its chest, dark blood oozing onto the dirt. But he knew—it wasn't enough.

The monster charged in blind rage.

It was reckless now. Desperate. That was the opening Nate needed.

As it lunged, Nate sidestepped, pivoting on his heel. The scavenger missed him by inches.

This is my chance!

He swung his katana in a clean arc—

The blade bit deep into the monster's neck.

A sickening crunch. Blood sprayed across his face. The scavenger's body collapsed to the ground, twitching violently before finally going still.

Nate staggered back, panting, his vision blurring. His hands were shaking so badly that he almost dropped his sword.

It's dead.

His mind barely had time to register his victory before a new sound made his stomach drop.

A rustling in the bushes.

Then another snarl.

His head snapped toward the noise.

Two more pairs of glowing yellow eyes stared at him through the darkness.

A chill crawled down his spine.

More scavengers.

His body screamed in protest. He had nothing left. He was too tired. Too weak. He had barely killed the first one. If these two attacked together…

I'll die.

His breath came in ragged gasps. His legs trembled beneath him, barely holding him up. The two scavengers stalked forward, slow and deliberate.

Run.

The thought slammed into his mind like a command. Run, now.

His feet moved before he even decided to flee.

He turned and sprinted into the trees.

Branches whipped against his face. His wounds burned. His lungs felt like they were going to burst. But he couldn't stop. If he stopped, he would die.

Behind him, the snarls grew louder.

They're chasing me.

His heart pounded against his ribs, adrenaline the only thing keeping him upright. The dungeon entrance—where is it? He had been walking toward it before the scavenger attacked, but had he gone off course?

A clearing appeared ahead. Light.

Nate pushed forward. Almost there. Almost—

He burst through the treeline—

—And nearly crashed into someone.

Three figures stood ahead, weapons drawn, facing two scavengers.

Nate's breath hitched. People.

They were already in combat.

He skidded to a stop, barely managing to keep himself from collapsing. His entire body felt like it was on fire.

They haven't seen me yet.

The two scavengers in front of them snarled, distracted by their fight.

Nate gasped for breath, his vision swimming. His fingers tightened around his katana.

What do I do?

The answer was obvious.

He wasn't safe yet.

And the fight wasn't over.

But..

Should he go near them??

Does he even have the strength left to swing his katana? If he joins the fight, will he be dead weight or an asset?