The Last Nightmare

"Is this a joke?"

"Am I hallucinating??"

"Did I died already --!"

Nate stared at the glowing runes before him, his mind refusing to process what he was seeing.

---

Name: Nathaniel Veran

Title: None

Core: Dormant

Bloodline: Dormant Bloodline

Physique: Dormant Physique

Attributes: Dormant Attributes

Abilities: Dormant

Skill: Dead Man's Reversal

Equipment:Rusted Katana

[Skill Description: A high-risk, high-reward counter technique that exploits an opponent's overconfidence. The user feigns defeat, creating an illusion of vulnerability. When the enemy overcommits to a finishing blow, the user executes a last-second evasion and delivers a fatal counterattack from an unexpected angle.]

---

His fingers clenched into fists.

"What the hell does 'Dormant' even mean?!"

Core? Bloodline? Physique? Attributes? He had never heard of these things. Weren't only monsters supposed to have a Core?

The words glowed faintly in the darkness, the edges of the runes flickering as if unstable, like they weren't meant to be read by him in the first place.

His eyes landed on the skill.

"Dead Man's Reversal…"

Wasn't that the personal move Kai had taught him?

"This is a high-risk, high-reward skill," Kai had once said, his tone firm. "If you use it wrong, you'll die. If you use it right… your opponent will never see it coming."

A ghost of a smile tugged at Nate's lips.

But the moment was short-lived.

A chill crawled up his spine as the air around him thickened, pressing against his skin like something unseen was breathing against his neck.

Above him, the sky was fractured, its shattered pieces revealing an abyss of writhing eyes—massive, unblinking, watching.

His stomach twisted.

He hurriedly dismissed the glowing runes.

And that's when he saw them.

---

A wriggling mass of pale, mist-like figures slid toward him, their forms shifting and twisting like living fog. They had no legs, no eyes—only gaping mouths, leaking trails of darkness as they drifted closer.

A line of glowing runes flickered into existence before his eyes.

---

Name: Nightmare Wraith

Rank: F

Description: Originally a group of ordinary wraiths, long-term exposure to an unknown source of nightmare energy has corrupted them. Their bodies have grown larger, their temperament violent. They instinctively attack intruders. Their attacks cause the "Blind" effect.

---

A low hiss filled the air.

Nate moved.

His body was sluggish, still weak from all the accumulated damage. He had never fought mist-like creatures before, and every instinct screamed that something was wrong.

His grip tightened around his katana as the first Nightmare Wraith lunged at him.

Its form was a shifting mass of white mist, barely holding shape, but its elongated claws gleamed like frozen glass. It moved with an unnatural smoothness, gliding instead of walking, and its mouth—an abyss of writhing darkness—opened in a silent scream.

His instincts screamed at him.

Move. Now.

Nate sidestepped just as the wraith's claws slashed downward, carving through the space where his chest had been a second ago. His katana lashed out in response, slicing through the creature's misty body—

—Only to pass through like air.

No resistance?!

His feet stumbled backward, panic rising. The wraith should have been cut, but it didn't even flinch. Instead, the mist around its form swirled violently, as if agitated.

Then the others rushed in.

Two more wraiths appeared from the shifting fog, encircling him. Their movements were erratic, unpredictable, but their intent was clear—they were hunting him.

One wraith shot forward, claws aimed for his head. Nate barely ducked, feeling the cold wind of its attack graze his hair. The second wraith struck from his blind spot—

Too fast!

Pain exploded in his shoulder as the wraith's clawed hand phased through his flesh like smoke, then solidified. A wave of ice-cold agony spread through his arm, numbing it instantly.

His vision turned pitch black.

---

> Blind effect applied.

---

"Shit—!"

A black haze swallowed his sight. The world became muffled, distant. He staggered back, body tense, forcing himself to breathe as his heart hammered against his ribs.

Listen. Feel. Predict.

A faint whisper of movement—right.

Nate threw himself to the side just in time, the wraith's attack missing him by inches. His breath was ragged, his body growing sluggish. He couldn't keep dodging forever.

He could hear them moving, the soft, whispering wails closing in.

"Think, damn it. How do I kill these things?!"

His katana was useless against mist—or was it?

He gritted his teeth, forcing his body to still. His fingers tightened on the hilt of his sword. He had to aim for something solid. The core—if there was one.

His sight was returning in flickers now, shapes and outlines appearing through the haze. The nearest wraith loomed in front of him, its form twisting unnaturally, preparing another strike.

This time, Nate didn't dodge.

He stepped forward.

The wraith's claws lashed out—but Nate turned his blade at the last second, angling it just beneath its shifting mist-like chest—

And then he struck.

His katana pierced into something solid.

A keening shriek echoed as the wraith convulsed, its form writhing like liquid fire. The mist around it began unraveling, collapsing inward.

"It worked."

Nate didn't hesitate. He ripped his blade free, slicing upwards—bisecting the core.

A sharp, high-pitched screech rang out.

The wraith burst apart into black mist, vanishing into nothing, followed by a sudden, eerie silence.

One down.

Too many left.

The remaining wraiths howled, their bodies distorting in rage. The temperature plummeted as they closed in—

Nate exhaled shakily, blood dripping from his wound.

His hands trembled from exhaustion, but his mind sharpened. He had figured it out. He could fight them.

But the wraiths had already started closing in again.

Their movements became erratic, frenzied—like sharks that had tasted blood.

Nate gritted his teeth.

"I won't die here."

His mind flashed back to Kai's words. "If you use it wrong, you'll die. If you use it right… your opponent will never see it coming."

He tightened his grip on the katana.

Breathe. Focus. Don't panic.

His stance shifted, lowering slightly, his body relaxing just enough to let the tension flow through him.

He let his enemies see it.

The exhaustion. The stagger in his step. The trembling in his fingers.

The illusion of vulnerability.

The wraiths, mindless as they were, took the bait.

All at once, they lunged.

Nate's body moved on instinct.

A last-second sidestep. A blur of steel. A perfectly timed counterattack—

The first wraith shattered before it could even realize what had happened.

Dead Man's Reversal.

The remaining wraiths hesitated.

Nate raised his katana again, blood dripping from the tip. His chest rose and fell with ragged breaths, but his stance remained firm.

"Come on then."

The nightmare wasn't over.

Not yet.