With the mighty Staff of Galvani in his left hand, with the spiteful spectral dagger in his right, Vance was finally ready to confront the Lord of Lightning. He traversed the eerie catacombs one last time and exited into the castle bailey. From there, he advanced stealthily and silently until he reached the promised door—the entrance to the throne room. It was thirty meters high and another ten wide. A jackal was carved on its metal surface, with a phoenix in its mouth and an injured raven under its claws. Beyond this massive door, Galvani was lurking. Beyond this formidable gate, the lost prize was waiting. Vance tried to push it open, but it refused to budge.

It’s too heavy. He took a few steps back and looked up at it. For a moment, it seemed that he would need to search for another entrance, but then, suddenly, he heard a familiar chime. It was the same sharp sound that had echoed in the dark moat and the Tower Library. Thousands of golden butterflies—more than ever before—started to appear as if out of nothing. They swarmed in spirals and filled his surroundings with brilliant sparks. It was an astounding spectacle, one that caused constant shivers to run down the back and left goosebumps all over the skin. Eventually, the countless butterflies gathered in one place, and as they fluttered in unison, their golden lights merged to form a gargantuan ghost.

It was a Headbound giant. Brynjar the Unbreakable was once his glorious name. He stood ten meters tall and wore an armor set made out of chain mail and monster hides—goats, elks, pumas, and panthers. On his back, he carried a large flail made out of the bones of Grisly Bears. Shaking Rocca Galeazzi, he stepped forward and put his hands on the gate to the throne room. “The die has been cast, Noble Headbound,” he said to Vance. “It is now up to you to break the vicious cycle that is Rocca Galeazzi, or to let it repeat.” He pushed against the massive gate, which started to shine with a ghostly golden color. “Only the victor can leave this hall. Fight as the Bearshields of old have fought.”

When the gate was fully open, Brynjar the Unbreakable took his large Bone Flail off his back and charged into battle. Two steps into the throne room, however, there came a powerful gust. It blew like a hurricane. The ghostly giant stood his ground against it and shielded Vance from its damage. For long, his huge body withstood the lashes and crashes of the eolian whips. But they were too much to bear, and in the end, his existence began to crumble. Pieces broke off into golden butterflies and dissolved into a fine dust. Again and again and again. When the merciless wind finally petered out, the ghost was no more, and the beast hunter found himself standing alone in front of the open gate.

This is it. Vance collected himself. This is my only chance to return to Blackmoss Forest, to my everyday life, to little Timathor. He entered the throne room. His footsteps echoed as his Mental Eye scanned his surroundings. He was walking inside a large hall without a ceiling. High above, the dry thunderstorm was flashing and roaring, flaring and cursing; and below this grumbly sky, there was a long, worn-out red carpet that continued into pitch-black darkness. With every step he took along this carpet, skull lanterns and bone candelabras lit on his right and left. Every spot of light revealed groups of statuettes—monsters that were carved out of stone and humans who were chiseled out of marble. The poses of these figures were natural, and their appearance seemed to suggest a strange obsession with daily life in the mortal world.

Halfway to the end of the kingward path, without any warning or preamble, the remaining lights lit up all at once, and the Galvanic Throne appeared in all its glory. Its four feet were shaped like trampled phoenixes and ravens. Its arms were decorated with rows of black pearls. Above an intricate gothic splat, its crest rail was shining, and a golden skull was biting on a Storm Jewel. It seemed hard to find the counterpart of this throne in the mortal world, impossible to mimic its craftsmanship and metalwork. But Vance wasn’t bedazzled by the gold. He wasn’t enticed by the pearls or jewels. In fact, his mind had already abstracted away the impressive sight, and his Mental Eye was focused only on the dimness amid the shine.

There it was, sitting between the throne arms, between the rows of black pearls—a small jackal that resembled a Carcassian monster. One of its eyes was missing, while the other looked exactly like the staff’s orb. Is this creature my prey? Vance felt uneasy. Is this thing the one they call the Lord of Lightning? The small jackal was grooming itself, but when it saw Vance approaching, it stopped moving and stared him as if in the eye. Vance also stopped and returned the stare. For a few silent moments, the world froze as if at the start of an ice age. Then the sly jackal parted its forelegs. Its subtle movement revealed something that was hidden under its body—something that had been in its possession for far too long. It’s … It’s my …

Vance suddenly felt a rush of emotion. He wanted to smile, to laugh, to sob, to cry. His head was right there. He was looking at his own face. But he also saw the ugly visage of death superimposed on it. His hair was dry and disheveled; his cheeks pale and hollowed; his lips colorless; his nose deflated; his eyes shut; his forehead smeared. It was almost as if his own corpse had been exhumed or his own coffin opened. No human could remain unscarred after such a sight, but what followed was even worse. The jackal bit his shoulder-length hair and picked his head up. It stood with it hanging in its mouth and wiggled its tail in satisfaction—Look whose grave I desecrated on this fine day!

It was the most provocative taunt of all, one that only a twisted mind could conceive; but Vance displayed superhuman self-composure and refused to rush into an unwise attack. You scavenging bastard! He stood in silence and observed the situation, holding back his evergrowing anger, reining in his injured pride. You’ll pay for this. He squeezed the staff and dagger. All in due time … All in due time. Lightning ripped through the sky; thunder followed suit. Then, when it was clear that the taunt had failed, there was a rain of caustic words.

“How kind of you to bring me back my staff,” a strong voice echoed through the throne room. It was loud but sourceless—the lips of the jackal didn’t move. “Put it down and bow to your God-King. Then I may forgive your insolence and grant you a place in my kingdom. Aldini has outlived his usefulness … And you … you have proven yourself to be a better pawn.”

“A place in your ‘kingdom,’ huh?” Vance scoffed. “How delusional.”

“This is where you belong,” the voice said. “Your head has become a conduit for the Anima Elettrica. It has become a prize too valuable for you to keep. Bow to me, and I will grant you La Terza Scelta. I will allow you to exist as my loyal follower. An eternity awaits you in the service of the true Lord of Middlerift.”

“And how many beast organs do I get with that?” Vance scoffed again.

“None,” the voice said, slyly, bitterly, caustically. “After all, you are already the perfect chimera. Or has my all-seeing eye failed me?”

Vance looked down at his Dragonsgrief feet. For a moment, he felt weak and hesitant, and his hand lost its tight grip on the spectral dagger. What was that strange feeling inside his chest? Was it a trace of self-loathing? Was it a hint of self-disgust? He felt compelled to defend himself—to call himself a human and nothing else—but then he recalled the teachings of Pamela. When the words of the lunar elf re-echoed in his mind, his impulsive reaction waned, and he started to feel at peace again. So what if he was a monster or a beast or even a chimera? What value did such a label have? How did it change the reality he had already accepted? These words were nothing but worthless provocations.

“You’re right,” he laughed. “I fit your nasty mould. I’m a chimera through and through. And maybe that’s why I made it this far in your castle.”

“Yes, and it is time for Rocca Galeazzi to become your home,” the voice said. “The Honeydew Flies took your young, healthy body away from me, but here we are—back where we started. You are destined to serve me, to be my dagger. My offer is a one-time chance. Accept your fate before it is too late, or you will end up in the Golden Swarm.”

“I have a better offer for you,” Vance said, without fear or hesitation. “Put my fucking head down, and I won’t shred you into more than a hundred pieces.” He tightened his grip and pointed his spectral dagger at the enthroned jackal. “What do you say? My offer is also a one-time chance.”

A loud laugh echoed throughout the throne room.

“Pretense, swagger, bravado—that is all that makes you Headbound,” the voice said. “You lack insight into Middlerift. You lack an understanding of the one you call Thurvik. Like utter fools, you seek the ancient knowledge without awareness of its nature. Revival and Decay use you as pawns in their endless war, and you serve them gladly in your ignorance. Why care? As long as there is a carrot hanging from a stick, as long as there is an ascension, as long as there is a quest and a reward—nothing else matters.”

Lightning intensified in the sky; thunder crashed louder than before. Vance looked up and noticed that the clouds were starting to form an ominous vortex.

“The Anima Elettrica belongs to me alone,” the voice continued. “I am your savior, your God-King, the future One Undivided. I defeated Revival and Decay when they came marching to storm my gates. And if you will not bow before me, then I shall make you kneel!”

Suddenly, the thunderstorm descended from the sky in the form of a black tornado. It touched down at the throne and knocked Vance back. He fell on the ground and was pushed away several meters until he hit a rock. When he got up again, the candles and lanterns were all out, and the numerous statuettes were all shattered. In the faint light of the dusky sky, after the thunderstorm and tornado had finally subsided, he saw the golden throne knocked on its side. It rested among rubble. And instead of the small jackal that had sat on it, there was a Middlerift Beast standing twelve meters tall. Galvani had finally revealed his true identity and unleashed his true form.

***

A half-skeletonized jackal head; an eye that absorbed Mana from the air; an elongated mouth with sharp, finger-like teeth; a scaly growth below the ears; a disgusting egg sac for a beard; the wispy phantoms of fallen adventurers for a breath—Galvani was an abomination unlike any other. He had two arms. The first was small and weak, but it had enough power to wield weapons and staves. The second was oversized and ended in seven flesh-rending claws. He balanced himself on two back legs, but when he moved, he needed to use his dominant arm for support. On his back, a flashing current of electro-magic traveled among thousands of spikes, which resembled the quills of a hedgehog but acted like biological electrodes. And on his chest, the severed head of his challenger appeared—half-embedded inside the torso, half-exposed to the world.

“Kneel before your God-King!”

A deafening roar shook the entire castle. Galvani bent his knees and lunged forward into a quick offensive. A physical attack. Vance tightened his grip on both his spectral dagger and the Staff of Galvani. Then he dodged to the left with his parasitic feet. His long-distance evasion brought him to a safe position, but Galvani turned his way and followed the first lunge with another. In a flash, the dominant arm was swinging toward Vance—the seven claws were slashing together like seven knives. It was an attack that threatened to shred its target into pieces of peel; but Vance jumped at the right moment, landed above the large arm, and stabbed the wrist without delay.

Dark green marks spread fast. The stab dealt significant damage, but in the next moment, Galvani swung his dominant arm again and sent Vance flying to the other end of the hall. I didn’t do enough to weaken his arm. Vance used his parasitic feet to soften his landing. His dragon claws left a long trail of scratch marks and sticky grime. With friction sparks flying in the air, he came to a stop and found his back to a high wall. He took a moment to rebalance himself. Then he looked ahead. Galvani had started the fight with strong physical attacks, but it seemed that he was preparing something different now. He’s overcharging his electro-magic. Vance watched the sparks fly from the spikes on the beastly back. Is he testing whether I can use his staff?

Vance braced himself for a discharge. It’s gonna come at any moment now. His heart beat like a drone; his Mental Eye strained itself; his left hand twitched. He expected a web of lightning to fill the throne room from end to end, but the attack unfolded in an unforeseen way. The electro-magic inside Galvani began to flow in strange patterns. It moved through the ground and then rose to form electric holograms around the Lord of Lightning. There were vivid acacias and bushwillows, jackals and hyenas, hooded mages with grimoires in their hands. A life-size diorama appeared within a five-meter radius around the beast. Then, seconds later, the vibrant trees started to shed their leaves into thunderbolts; the monsters charged and transformed into lightning; and the hooded mages fired spells that erased their own electric bodies from existence.

In a matter of seconds, the diorama had become a thousand thunderbolts. It wasn’t a random discharge—it was a homing attack. The bolts all flew toward Vance at the same time. There was no space to dodge, no space even to breathe. The whole world seemed ablaze with the bright blue colors of electro-magic. An ill-equipped challenger would’ve been burned to a crisp by such an attack, but Vance raised the Staff of Galvani. The staff’s orb—L’Occhio del Ciclone—moved its pupil rapidly, and with every saccade, it absorbed one of the lightning bolts. The blinding attack became ineffective; it neither injured nor killed. And Vance emerged after it with his MP restored to the brim.

“Such insolence!” Galvani roared. “How dare you use my own eye against me? Lower the staff! Lower it, or—”

“Or what?” Vance interrupted. “You’ll whine louder?”

It was time for a counterattack. Knowing that he had the upper hand from a distance, Vance raised the Staff of Galvani even higher and activated one of its abilities. Pure-Mana Beam. A colorless beam emanated from the pupil of the orb. It traveled like a ray of light, with crystalline dust revealing its path, and ultimately struck the jackal head. Bullseye. The beam hit Galvani where it hurts the most—like a waking slap to the left cheek—and there was no sign of it subsiding. It costs only 10 MP per second, and thanks to the Guiltless class effect, I regenerate those 10 points back. In other words, I can continue to fire it forever. The only problem is that the recoil seems to slow me down a little …

Galvani jumped out of the beam’s path, but Vance chased him by reorienting the staff. There’s nowhere to run. Wherever the Lord of Lightning tried to go, the beam followed like a persistent pest. It was a strategic attritional attack: Vance stayed at a safe distance and continued to deal constant damage for no cost at all. This is going better than I imagined. Galvani tried to fire his thunderbolts in response, but these desperate attempts did little more than interrupt the beam for a few seconds. Irony was at play. The staff was the perfect counter to its former master, and Vance wasn’t shy to abuse this fact. To win this battle, to reverse this downward trend, Galvani had no option but to turn the fight back into a clash of claws and daggers.

And after another futile electro-diorama attack, there came a brief chance to accomplish this very goal. The beam halted for a second as the staff absorbed the thunderbolts, and Galvani couldn’t miss this opportunity. His gigantic body leaped across the hall. Forget about it! Vance aimed the beam at the leaping beast, but Galvani used his dominant arm to shield his head. His beastly feet touched the ground, and his seven claws took another swing at Vance. It was a savage sweep. It was ferocious and lethal. A one-hit KO. The Adventurer Slayer, however, had already paused his beam attack and prepared to evade. Mobility was still on his side. His parasitic feet propelled him forward at an astonishing speed—a surprise even for the mighty Galvani.

Before the seven claws could reach him and shred him into pieces, Vance had already passed between the beastly knees. On the other side, he turned around and aimed for the right leg. Spectral Execution. He swung his spectral dagger fast and dug it into its mark. Dark green cracks spread along the thigh and calf and all around the knee. It was a devastating blow—not only because it was a Spectral Execution, but also because it was aimed at the correct spot. The Lord of Lightning had an asymmetrical body. When his right leg was hit so hard, when the well-aimed execution landed, he found himself falling on his side. His weak right arm couldn’t be used for balance, and his dominant left side couldn’t save him from the imminent crash.

A cloud of dust erupted into the air. Galvani fell to the ground and started to thrash around with all his vanished might. Long ago, he had thousands of heads and a loyal army; today he had almost nothing. With every moment, his thrashing became more wild. Perhaps he was venting his unfathomable rage. Perhaps he was attempting to take Vance down with him. Either way, his violent movements were futile. After the Spectral Execution landed, Vance was immediately teleported away to a safe spot. He found himself in a corner of the throne room—shielded by the fallen Galvanic Throne and concealed by a veil of darkness. He wasted no time and immediately raised the staff. Pure-Mana Beam. The staff fired its unabating ray and struck the spikes on the Galvanic back.

One after the other, they began to crack and break. Their pieces fell on the ground and broke like fragile crystals. The electro-magic inside Galvani began to weaken, and his HP began to dwindle toward dangerous levels. Only a little more. Vance focused his aim to eliminate as many spikes as he could. Halfway toward a full elimination, however, Galvani suddenly turned around. The Lord of Lightning looked different now. His foul beard—the grotesque egg sac—was stretching and expanding. It became larger and larger, veiny and bloated. This looks bad. Vance stopped shooting the beam and charged with his spectral dagger. He wanted to land one last Spectral Execution and end the fight, but it was already too late.

“Foolish Headbound!” Galvani roared. “Your success will be your curse! You have fed my dear minions! And now they are finally mature! Now they hatch and bring you doom!”

Galvani ripped the egg sac off his face and neck. Then, with a swing of his dominant arm, he flung it in the air and sent it flying toward Vance. It was throbbing. It was beating like an electro-heart. Vance stopped in his tracks and used his parasitic feet to dodge in the last second. The sac hit the ground and exploded, releasing a great amount of potent acid and hatching three large eggs. A trio of purple slugs emerged. They crawled over the decaying eggshells and headed toward Vance. Each had two antennas on its head and four tentacles to propagate. They possessed neither eyes nor noses. Circular mouths occupied most of their faces, and around these mouths, there were pinkish stains that were aglow like radioactive substances.

What’s the deal with those things? Vance began to back away slowly as the slugs advanced. He could see Galvani in the background recovering from his fall, but he didn’t dare race past the slugs without due caution. Galvani made it sound like they’re his trump card. There must be something unique about them. He had a hunch about what this unique characteristic might be, but he needed to test things out to know for sure. He raised the Staff of Galvani, aimed for the first slug, and fired a Pure-Mana Beam. It hit its target with a bullseye, yet the slug received no damage. This is impossible … The beam ignores 25% of an enemy’s Magic Resistance. Vance focused his beam on its target. Even if these slugs are immune to magic, I should deal 25% damage.

A few moments passed before Vance noticed another strange phenomenon: the slug he attacked was getting bigger. These creatures … Do they feed on Mana? He backed away as the slugs closed in from all directions. This might be it … The Pure-Mana Beam is dealing damage, but they’re recovering HP and growing at a faster rate. It was a grim realization. The slugs must’ve had Mana-based healing with an efficiency of 25% or higher. A Warrior or an Archer would’ve had no real problem against them, but Vance had a definite weakness: as a Spectral Assassin, his stats and Skills were optimized to deal magical damage. Without an item bag or a favorable terrain, he had nothing to counter the slugs.

Galvani studied my fight against Aldini and planned this last resort. Vance used potion patches to heal as he continued to retreat. I can try to use the Larval Dagger, but it won’t be enough. I don’t have the Strength to wield it effectively and deal lethal physical damage. He found his back against the wall and the three slugs around him. There must be something I can do. He looked down and noticed his dragon claws as if for the first time in his life. A thought flashed. My Strength and Endurance stats are in shambles, but the parasites have been breaking stones and enduring lethal falls. What did this mean? What could he conclude from the fight against Aldini, from the struggle against Sabrina’s vines, from his sneaky assault on the castle servants? I never paid it much attention before, but could it be that Dragonsgrief has stats of its own? Stats independent of mine?

Vance had never relied on the parasites alone for attack—he had never used them to deal the main damage or finish off a foe. Because he had lost his human feet, he was preoccupied, almost obsessed, with restoring his mobility. Now it seemed that his old perspective had been too narrow; now it appeared that the parasites were much more than a substitute. I have to try this. There’s nothing left but to try this. As Galvani stood up straight again, as the tentacles of the three slugs extended toward their prey, Vance closed his Mental Eye and called upon the parasites. Dragonsgrief! We live together and die together, so don’t you fail me now! His earnest plea rushed through the Manotic Connections. Suddenly, his dragon claws elongated into sharp weapons; the spaces among the scales began to burn like magma; the grime began to flow out like tar.

Before the slugs’ tentacles could grasp him, Vance opened his Mental Eye and awakened to his own powers. It was all new; it was all untested; but he let loose and trusted his instincts. His body wanted to survive, and so did the countless parasites that relied on it for nutrition. With a series of fast jumps, he dodged one tentacle after the other. Then he swung his leg and kicked the first slug with his right dragon claw. The claw cut through the slug with flaming force. It left a trail of smoke and char. Then the second kick followed and deposited a layer of grime that infected the open cuts. The slug couldn’t handle these fast, chained attacks. It teetered and tottered for a few seconds. Then, without warning, its body burst open and decomposed into a puddle of acid.

Once the first slug was dead, Vance turned his attention to the other two. They had been attacking him all this time, and he had been moving nimbly to avoid their tentacles. Now it was time to counterattack. He kicked one away, slashed through the other, stepped on one, begrimed the other. In a matter of seconds, their purple bodies had become covered in char and claw marks. And even their mouths were sealed with a sticky layer of grime. Vance didn’t bother to deliver a final stomp or to dignify them with a final kick. He left them to die a slow death from their open wounds—to burst into acid after a time limit—and with a great boost of self-confidence, with his spectral dagger ready, he rushed to finish off the beast.

“My kingdom is eternal!” Galvani roared in pure desperation. “When will you realize the truth? The Anima Elettrica is the only answer!” Seeing Vance approaching, he also chose to charge. “Why are you so bent on destroying what you do not understand? Why do you trust in Revival? Why do you not see me for who I am? I am your God-King! All Headbound must submit to me!”

The two met in the center of the throne room. Galvani slashed with his dominant claw, but Vance jumped higher than any human could. He landed on the beastly arm and continued to run along it before he jumped a second time. The beast couldn’t even react. Vance banished his dagger and grabbed the jackal ear. He used it to spin in the air and landed on the giant jackal head. Then he re-equipped his dagger as fast as he could. Spectral Execution. It was the final strike. It was the deadly blow. The dark mist coated his arm and part of his torso. Then he swung his dagger and planted it into Galvani’s only eye. The tip pierced through the pupil. The green cracks spread beyond the iris until they had covered the entire jackal head.

In the throes of death, however, the Lord of Lightning called upon his arcane powers and initiated his escape. His beastly body turned into vapor and mist and clouds. Suddenly, Vance found himself falling toward the ground, while the great Galvani was returning to the skies. Not so fast! In the most critical moment of the fight, Vance raised the staff and pointed it at the retreating mist. Imprison. As soon as he activated this one-time ability, he saw another dazzling spectacle unfold before him. The staff emitted a brilliant ray of light that must have been seen from thousands of kilometers away. The golden butterflies appeared. Time stopped. Gravity halted. And Vance felt as if he was suspended in a floating soap bubble.

“Thank you, Noble Headbound,” the voice of Brynjar the Unbreakable said. “After all these years … the Golden Swarm is free at last.”

“What awaits us is a true mystery,” the voice of Galen the Sagacious added. “Eternity is lost. Knowledge is lacking. Tomorrow is unknown. But we accept our fate, whatever it may be.”

“We are leaving,” the voice of Mimi the Kindhearted continued. “Never again will we return to this cursed land. And even my beloved Sabrina will join us soon. Let there be peace wherever we go.”

The staff began to absorb Galvani. His mist and clouds were sucked into the staff’s powerful orb, and while the master of Rocca Galeazzi was sinking into oblivion, the golden butterflies were dancing and fluttering and climbing to the sky. Higher and higher they went until they turned into tiny stars in the dusk. Then they broke into stardust. Then they were gone forever. Time returned to its constant flow, and gravity strengthened its pull. Vance spun once in the air and landed on his dragon claws. Even after he stood on solid ground, the staff continued to absorb whatever remained of the Lord of Lightning. And when the beast was fully entombed, the prize—the head of Vance Wolfe—fell from above and rolled on the ground.

Battle Result

You have defeated Galvani the Deathless, Lord of Lightning.

Your victory marks an end and ushers a new beginning.

Ascension Alert

You have slain your prey with 10 hours remaining.

Place your head where it belongs to complete your Class Ascension.

Vance banished his spectral dagger, and his parasitic feet returned to their normal appearance. With confident, triumphant steps, he walked to his head and picked it up. It was the moment that he had been anticipating for so long. I made it in time. He wiped the dirt off his face and rotated his head carefully in his hands. Then he raised it to place it atop his Flame of Revival. It almost fit where it belonged—but then, suddenly, there was a whoosh of air. Three knives flew his way. Two passed by without harm. One cut his right hand and forced him to drop his head.

A piercing shout followed: “Stop right there, you son of a bitch!”