Part 1

- ??'S POV -

The soothing sensation of the cold stone against my body began fading slowly, drained into something more abstract, until it all gave way to the feeling of soft grass brushing and gently pecking at my palms. I looked around. My initial surprise now fading into a more comfortable knowledge of why and where I was.

Of course I was in the labyrinth. How could I forget? It had been a couple of days since we had met with that strange...strange something. I couldn't really recall what it was, but it was something that we fought. Now, it was time to rest, thus I took some hours to just sit around in the grass. It had been a while since I was able to relax like that. Especially after all the crazy stuff I had to go through.

There was no deeper meaning. No act to keep up and no appearances either. It was just me, in a corner of that immense cave, laying down on a carpet of soft grass watching bubbles of water rise from the small rivers and join their sisters in the gravity-defying lake on the ceiling. The threatening feeling that the lake would just crash down on me had already vanished so all that was left was the awe and beauty that it inspired. It was very unlike me, I knew, but I found myself thinking how peaceful would it be to live in that place. Building a small wooden house on top of that tiny hill, planting some trees from the surface, digging up a small garden... For a moment, a brief moment, I let myself sink in that soothing dream, letting it lullaby me into fantasies far-fetched from my reality. But I soon shook it off. I had to. I didn't yet achieve the luxury of peaceful dreams, now when... not when what?

* * *

I woke up once again. It had been a while since I last opened my eyes. I was tired, my mind sluggish and my eyelids heavy, yet I still slid them open, forced them to. I did not know the reason for that urge, but something in the back of my mind pushed me to. A strange sensation. Just like a sixth sense.

What greeted me was a dim-lit cave. Cold yet somewhat welcoming, mostly thanks to the large quantity of gleaming-blue mushrooms decorating the smooth surfaces of the walls. Roughly in the center of the cave, a makeshift camp had been set up and my companions, with which I shared this cave, animately discussed over a bright fire. My eyes lingered on them only for a moment before returning to the task at hand.

[I must heal and regain my strength!] I told myself, forcing my still-sluggish brain out of its drowsiness.

But there was something amiss. As I was falling deeper and deeper into a meditative state, I could feel a pair of eyes watching me. Distant yet ever-present. Describing it as simply uncomfortable was merely a joke. They were sinking into me, the eyes, the more I gathered and cleansed mana for my depleted circuits. I wanted to scream and rage at the owner of those corrupted eyes. I wanted to gauge them out. Yet before I could even act or think it through, my body and mind became numb and soon I found myself slipping back into a state of nothing. Sleep overtook me once again.

* * *

There was something bothering me. I could feel the cold and rough texture of the stone all around me, pressing onto my body yet at the same time, the hot and violent movement of the wind. A sense of anxiety was raising the more I tried to ignore that confusion. I told myself countless times it wasn't real, but a part of me still fought to oppose me. Thus I gave in, too tired and exhausted to even rebuke that little fragment of my conscience pressuring me to act.

A sudden rush of adrenaline permeated my entire being, from skin to bone. My already keen senses heightened even further, filling my nostrils with the pungent scent of sweat and an unknown stench that made my stomach turn over more than once even before I could open my eyes. Then, when I did, terror overcame me. In front of me stood a towering creature with skin as black as the night, red eyes looking at me attentively with curiosity, and a cocky smirk showcasing his long fangs. In front of me stood a being worthy of the title of "Demigod": the Black ogre Demigod.

However, I noticed something else. In front of my eyes, two human hands were stretched out and firmly secured on the hilt of a dagger. Its blade facing its holder directly. At that moment, a myriad of sensations flushed me over: pain in my chest, adrenaline, fear, resolution, excitement, worry... Then, words I did not wish to speak came out of my mouth in a familiar voice that wasn't mine.

"You know...I found out that blood...greatly empowers the strength...of a spell...-" Said the voice with fatigue painfully palpable with every sound and deep breath "- ESPECIALLY IF IT'S THE CASTER'S BLOOD!"

The hands acted before I could fully grasp the meaning of the words. The dagger plunged deep within my stomach, sending sudden waves...no, sparks of flesh-tearing pain all the way into my brain. My world spun around itself, mixing sensations I was sure to be mine and others alien. My knees grew weak as I wobbled to stay in place, standing tall, showing no sign of pain in front of that behemoth of an enemy. Then my eyes shut and I was brought back to reality.

I gasped for air. Frantically clawing at the stone walls of my cave, still feeling the sharp of the blade through my stomach. I looked around and found myself in the same comfortable darkness I had been in for the past two months. The silence of it only interrupted by my pained shout and the sound of my actions. I, then, looked down at my belly, where my skin was more vulnerable, sure to find the same dagger that my human hands were holding. Instead, the only things I saw were a series of crimson streaks painting my underside with their warmth. All the rolling around must've led me to scrape across the stone.

I had no time. I clung to the walls, snapping stone away as I slithered out of the tiny cave I grew too big to be in. Sunlight blinded me before I could adjust my eyes, but I had no time. No time to linger. No time to explore that walled city in the distance where flocks of demonfolk gathered. No time to hunt for prey after two months on an empty belly. No time to bathe at the waterfalls behind the cave. No time to tend to my wounds. No time at all.

I jumped down from the terrace of stone in front of the cave and felt the strong sensation of the cold wind snapping in my ears. I gnawed at it in frustration, snapping my maw more than once just so that I could clench and unclench my jaw. Then, before my body could touch the ground, I spread my wings and flapped as hard as I could. As fast as I could. The feeling of the wind caressing their skin made my spine shiver with instinctual pleasure. On other occasions, just like every other time after my yearly hibernation, I would take my time to savor that feeling. The freedom, the joy, the ecstasy of flight...not this time. He was in danger. I knew I couldn't cross a continent and an ocean in time to reach him but the desperation he was feeling was great enough to cloud my better judgment.

Thus, I filled my wings with wave after wave of mana, pushing my body to slide faster through the air than I would enjoy.

- RAPHAEL BLUESCALE'S POV -

I felt it. The sharp of the blade tearing through skin and muscle alike, piercing from tissue to tissue until the very hilt of the dagger was resting upon my abdomen. It was hot. A hot wave of pain shocking my muscles, tearing my nerves and freezing my breath. I felt the need to scream, to roar rather. It seemed more natural, to roar, but I choked it. My breath was ragged as it was already, I did not need something to worsen it further. I felt my knees grow weak and the gravity heightening in strength suddenly. Then, something was lifted off my head, a presence of some kind. I couldn't really give it a name or an explanation but it gave me enough lucidity to put more strength on my legs and, while I still wobbled like a drunkard, I retained my stability.

The ogre looked at me with an intense look of curiosity. Whether he understood the meaning of my words or he was simply shocked by my action mattered little. I knew well that once I would take out the dagger from its fleshy sheath, my clock would start ticking. I was already feeling the cold sweat running down my neck and back. Thus, I smiled. A forced smile, yes, but a smile nonetheless. The ogre began laughing.

"Little human...-" he said between breaths "-have you gone mad?"

"Not *huff* mad...just, DESPERATE!" I replied, screaming as I took out my dagger in one swift motion.

My ears began bringing violently and the hot aftermath of the flowing, or rather gushing of blood left on my abdomen. Voices reached my ears, from the back. Most likely my brother screaming something at me or my other companions. I did not care. It was all gibberish to me. I had no time and I had to make the little I had left count. Hence I pressed my left hand over the slit, soaking it with thick, hot blood, gathering as much of it as I could. Just like a kid would do with a fountain's on a hot day. I rose that fist up in the air, causing some blood to spill all over my face, and smirked as the plan I had barely thought of finally gained substance in my mind.

"Fl- *cough*- Flame lance..." I shouted, moving my mana to my now opened palm.

The spear formed rapidly in front of my head and flew even faster toward the ogre's eyes. As if it was some bothering mosquito, the ogre swatted at the lance, causing it to break into hundreds of tiny, little flames. My grin grew larger. His vision was now impaired. Only an instant. All it took to finish the spell.

"Haha!-" The still blinded ogre laughed "- As if this...tiny thing could..."

His eyes flashed with surprise as he regained his sight and the words he was about to say choked in his throat.

"...Volley!" I finished chanting.

Mana and blood were sucked out of my palm alike as if the fire I was trying to generate was burning those two essences as fuel. Over my head, dozens of flame lances levitated idly, waiting for me to infuse the command to fly. It took a moment, a minuscule push of mana signaling the spells to start their onslaught. The ogre smiled, not cockyly but rather in excitement. I couldn't understand what was going through his head. He didn't move nor dodged, just simply prepared his arms to deflect the incoming spells. My heart sank as the first two lances got easily pushed away but the color on my face briefly returned as the next ones made contact with his chest.

I gulped heavily knowing what I had to do next. A spell like [Flame lance volley], as powerful as it was, could cause nothing but scratches, light wounds at best to an enemy like the Black ogre. I knew that. But it was the best I could come up with in terms of strength and cost of mana. My goal was something else.

My vision turned red as blood began pouring out of my eyes, nose, and mouth. I could feel it vividly, my head splitting in half. My energies along with my mana, and most likely lifespan, being burned away by the burden, the strain, I was putting my brain under. The screams, the shouts, and the explosions of my spells became nothing but a dull noise mixed in with the ringing filling my ears. I was controlling the flame spears, not actively but it still took a certain amount of mana and concentration to keep them burning and going. Adding another spell upon that was akin to suicide, especially with a hole in my abdomen.

I moved the other hand, painfully as I could hear the cracking of the bones with each slight flex of muscle, and placed it right in front of the still bleeding wound. I took another fistful of blood and sent mana down my stomach and free hand, feeling even harder the headache threatening to tear my brain apart. I could taste the blood filling my mouth, as I puked it. With ragged breaths, I envisioned the cave and the aftermath of the spell I was about to cast. Then swung my fist dripping blood toward the ground, drawing a half-moon shape in crimson paint ,and shouted:

"SEISMIC FISSURE!"

My vision dimmed as the ground began trembling with rage. The half-moon of blood sank into the stone and the red stain on my hand evaporated, leaving behind only heat. The ogre shouted something in a foreign language, ancient-sounding and guttural. The few, now dwindling, flame spears shattered mid-flight and his eyes gleamed maliciously in my direction, meeting mine with an uncomfortable snake-like stare.

"You are...interesting...little human-" The ogre said, chuckling at his own words and raising his voice loud enough to surpass the sound of the cave falling apart "-...What is...your name?"

I pondered for a second, asking myself whether it was wise to give my name to the ogre, why would he want it and what would he do with that knowledge. If I had been more lucid, I would've most likely slithered my way out of that question, but with mana emptying out, a splitting headache, ragged breath, a wounded abdomen, and low levels of blood, my capacity to rationalize had hit rock bottom. Thus, I answered.

"Ra-*cough*-Raphael" I said, choking my words in blood.

"Raphael...-" The ogre repeated, seeming somewhat satisfied "-Raphael... You said it...before...that you would...not win...but survive...You were right-" he paused, swatting away some rocks falling in his direction "You are the first...to meet my eyes...and live another day...I will remember you...your name...your face...We'll meet again...outside...There, we will fight...and you will die...But it will be...interesting"

The ogre was now outright laughing at his own words with great satisfaction. His smirk was as playful as it was evil. He looked at me, at the cave, and finally at his wounded hand before facing away from me only to jump in the air and land two floors higher, right in front of a collapsing tunnel.

"Survive...what comes next" The ogre said as the entrance of the tunnel sealed in debris behind his back.

I felt hands touching me. Grabbing my arms, legs, and back. Dragging me somewhere. It was a miracle in itself how I was still standing. Voices filled my ears but my fried brain couldn't process them. I thought I'd heard my brother, maybe Dino and Dominik too. There was someone else inside my head, distant as if that voice was being dragged away by the wind. Then one last voice, far, far away. Tucked behind the meanders of the folds of my brain. It was telling me something. Soothing...lovingly.

I knew I had to keep myself awake...but my conscience began dwindling as I watched the collapsing mine disappear from my sight.