He should've run.
If he had turned away—if he'd kept going instead of facing the first Engager...Maybe none of this would've happened. No waking terror. No thunder tearing the sky. No suffocating dread settling into the bones of the world.
"Why did I fight?"
"Why did I think I could win?"
All he'd ever done was survive. Not win. Not save. Just... survive.
His hands trembled, clenched tightly at his sides. His grip was white-knuckled, the dagger he held heavy with a weight he wasn't sure he could carry.
Then—he saw her.
The girl.
Kneeling in front of the statue.
Silent. Still.
She didn't lift her head. Didn't cry. Didn't scream.
She just knelt there—shoulders hunched, silent—like the weight of the world had crushed her, and she hadn't fought it. Just let it happen.
And in that stillness, Lu Chen saw himself.
A mirror—cracked, but clear.
Alone. Helpless. Just like he had been, countless times before.
When the world ended. When no one came.
No—someone always did.
In the space between spaces, where time bled and reality frayed, memories had converged. Fragments from a thousand lives. A thousand cycles. A thousand doomed conquests.
They weren't dreams.They were echoes.And through them all—
Xiao Li.
Not a blur. Not a fading echo. Constant. Unbreakable. Real.
His laugh. His warmth. That impossible strength. The way he stood between Lu Chen and the abyss—even when there was nothing left to stand on.
"No matter how far, I'll find you first." "You hear me, idiot? You just have to stay alive."
The words burned like fire in his blood.
"Find me… or all will be lost."
His chest tightened. The weight of those words crushed him more than the fear gnawing at his resolve.
He couldn't turn back. Not now.
He had to do something.
With a pained grunt, Lu Chen staggered forward, reaching for a sword lodged in the body of a fallen warrior. The sword was heavy—clumsy—but it was a real weapon, one that could make a difference. He gripped it tightly, the steel cold against his palm, and let out a primal battlecry, a raw scream that shook the air around him.
He didn't know if he was shouting to rally himself or to urge the girl to run—maybe both. But deep down, he knew the truth. He wasn't prepared for this fight. He wasn't going to win.
He was just going to die.
The Shadow Champion seemed to smirk, its eyes gleaming with amusement. It had seen this before—weak, pathetic attempts at resistance. It sent an instruction out to the Engagers, who eagerly stepped forward, their movements predatory, ready to hunt down their prey.
The Shadow Champion watched the battle unfold from its perch, its amusement undeterred. To it, this was nothing more than entertainment, a game to pass the time. It didn't care that the girl was running, her legs shaking as she stumbled away, her only hope now to escape.
Lu Chen didn't notice her anymore. His focus was entirely on the Engagers now. His hands gripped the sword, his body poised as the first of them—an Engager with an axe—charged at him. The axe swung down with murderous intent.
Instinct took over. Lu Chen's heart raced as the familiar rush of adrenaline flooded his senses. His body moved before his mind could process.
With a deep breath, he activated Ghost Signal, cloaking himself in shadow. The Engager's swing passed through empty air. Lu Chen appeared behind it in an instant, his sword flashing with deadly precision. He used Falselight, a burst of searing energy, to strike the Engager, sending a blinding wave through its body.
The Engager let out a screech of pain, staggering back as the blast tore into its armor. It collapsed to the ground, heavily wounded.
The Shadow Champion watched, its expression still twisted with amusement.
Then, just as quickly as the first threat fell, another one emerged.
This time, it was an Engager with chains wrapped around its limbs, its glowing eyes full of malice. It moved swiftly, like a serpent, and before Lu Chen could react, the chains shot out—snaring him.
The sharp metal dug into his shoulder, the pain almost blinding. He let out a grunt, falling to his knees as the weight of the chains pulled him down. The world spun, his vision blurring with the rush of blood and dizziness.
The other Engagers laughed from the sidelines, their voices echoing in cruel amusement. They weren't just fighting. They were playing with him. Each strike, each wound, was another round of entertainment for them.
The Engager with the giant sword advanced, a towering figure whose sword was as long as Lu Chen's entire body. It swung down with terrifying force, the sword howling through the air.
Lu Chen barely had time to react. His sword came up just in time, blocking the heavy slash. The impact rattled his bones, and the Falselight flickered weakly, struggling to hold against the sheer weight of the blow. The dim light sputtered like a dying flame, but it held—just.
His hands were shaking, the hilt slick with blood as his grip tightened. His palms burned, the wounds from the earlier battle already stinging as the pressure from the sword nearly overwhelmed him. His hands were bleeding, the blood dripping onto the ground, mixing with the dirt and grime of the battlefield.
With a grimace, Lu Chen pushed back, his legs wobbling beneath him. He couldn't keep up this pace. The Engager with the giant sword was too strong. His arms felt like they were going to give way with every strike.
But he didn't have a choice.
With a yell, Lu Chen twisted his body, using the momentum to break the deadlock. His feet slid against the dirt, and in that split second of weakness, he could feel the Falselight dimming, weakening in his grasp.
The Engager smirked, lifting its sword for another crushing blow.
Thunder rolled through the sky, the air thick with a sense of impending catastrophe. But there was something else—a pulsing vibration, deep and resonant.
Was it his heartbeat?
No.
It was something coming from his pouch. Something far older. Something that had lain dormant for far too long.
The giant sword of the Engager descended.
But just as it was about to strike, a force—unnatural and immense—vibrated through the ground, sending ripples through the air. The sword was deflected with ease, thrown off course by the overwhelming power surging from within Lu Chen's pouch.
A roar—louder than thunder—ripped through the air, echoing like the sound of a dragon bellowing in fury.
A tiger's growl joined in, deep and guttural, shaking the earth beneath their feet. The very fabric of reality seemed to tremble, and the Engager stepped back, stunned.
The Orb of Desolation had awakened.
Lu Chen's senses were assaulted by the force of it—the pulse, the energy, the danger it exuded. It felt as if a dormant predator had been roused from its slumber, hungry for the scent of its nemesis. And that scent, unmistakable, was the Shadow Champion.
For a moment, Lu Chen stood frozen, his heart racing in time with the pulsing force. The world around him seemed to blur. He could feel the Orb vibrating within the confines of his pouch, as if yearning to break free.
The Engager with the giant sword, startled and thrown off by the pulse, took a step back. It wasn't used to this kind of resistance.
Lu Chen's fingers twitched, and he felt a surge of energy flood his limbs. The weight on his shoulders lifted, if only for a brief moment.
The Shadow Champion, standing towering and silent, seemed to be observing the awakening with a mixture of curiosity and dread. The cold, distant expression on its face faltered for just a moment. Then it spoke.
The words, deep and guttural, were unlike anything Lu Chen had ever heard. They resonated with a chilling power that reverberated in the air, a language older than any he knew. The tone was dark, yet there was something unmistakable in its cadence—something that spoke of both excitement and fear.
The Shadow Champion's muttered incantations weren't directed at the Engagers, nor at Lu Chen. They were directed at the orb, as if acknowledging its ancient presence and the significance of its stirring.
It wasn't just curiosity that moved the Shadow Champion—it was fear. A strange, foreign terror crept into Lu Chen's mind as the words continued to echo in his ears, deep and resonant, like the sound of thunder cracking the heavens.
"The Nemesis..."
The air grew thick with an unseen force. The ground beneath Lu Chen's feet seemed to pulse with the resonance of the Shadow Champion's words.
And then, as though to break the tension, the Engagers moved.
They surged forward, closing in from all directions, encircling him with their weapons drawn and ready. There was no hesitation now; no amusement in their eyes, only cold, predatory focus. Lu Chen was trapped, his back against the rubble, the weight of the situation pressing in from every side.
The Shadow Champion didn't move. It simply watched. Its gaze remained fixed on Lu Chen, unmoving and unfazed. It was as though the battle was beneath it, beneath the power it wielded. As if it knew that this fight was inevitable and that it would allow the events to unfold at their own pace.
Tension thickened in the air, suffocating. Lu Chen's heart beat faster as the Engagers tightened their circle. The overwhelming sense of being trapped, of being outmatched, pressed down on him, but then—
A sudden, surging power erupted from deep within him. The Orb of Desolation pulsed in his pouch, its ancient energy flooding his body.
Lu Chen gasped, feeling the energy surge through his limbs, igniting every fiber of his being. His senses sharpened immediately. Every movement, every sound, every shift in the wind felt like it was happening in slow motion. His body felt lighter, faster, as if he had rediscovered something buried deep inside himself—a strength, a skill, something instinctual he had long since forgotten.
The pain from his previous wounds seemed to fade away, his fatigue lifted, and his strength surged. It was as though his very essence was being rejuvenated. His mind, once clouded with doubt, now felt sharp and clear. The very air around him seemed to hum with the power that flowed from the orb.
He looked around, his eyes scanning the battlefield with renewed clarity. The broken weapons scattered across the ground—swords, daggers, shields—no longer seemed like debris. They seemed like tools waiting to be wielded, as if they were his to command. His hands reached instinctively for one of the blades, its hilt familiar, even though he had never held it before. The moment his fingers touched the cold steel, the Falselight that flickered in his blade seemed to ignite once more, and his grip tightened.
The Engager with the giant sword swung down with terrifying force. Lu Chen narrowly dodged, grabbing a spear from the battlefield in one swift motion. He summoned the full power of Falselight, and with a furious shout, he hurled it straight at the Engager with the staff. The beam erupted with blinding intensity, obliterating the Engager in an instant. There was no time for the spellcaster to react—just a flash, and then nothing but the lingering smoke.
Before he could even catch his breath, arrows began to rain down from a distant hunter-type Engager, their deadly trajectory aimed directly at him. Lu Chen didn't hesitate. With a flick of his wrist, he activated Ghost Signal, vanishing into the shadows as the arrows sailed through the air, missing their mark.
His eyes scanned the battlefield. On the ground, a fire talisman lay within reach. Without hesitation, Lu Chen grabbed it and hurled it at the Engager with the chain, who was struggling to regroup. The talisman exploded on impact, sending a burst of flames engulfing the Engager. It shrieked, dropping the chain as it scrambled to put out the fire.
Lu Chen didn't waste a second. He dashed toward the Engager with the chain, his body moving with newfound speed. In a blur of motion, he slashed through the air with his sword, the shimmering light of Falselight trailing behind it. The attack struck the Engager before they could react, cutting them down in an instant. The Engager collapsed to the ground, lifeless, its weapon clattering to the dirt.
In an instant, two Engagers were down—the Engager with the Chain and the Engager with the Staff, both cut down by the might of Falselight. Only four Engagers remained: the Engagers with Axe, the Giant Sword, the Bow, and one that remained a mystery.
The battlefield felt quieter, the tension thickening as the remaining Engagers closed in. The Engager with Axe took a menacing step forward, the heavy weapon resting on its shoulder. The Engager with Giant Sword followed suit, its sword gleaming with deadly intent. From the distance, the Hunter had not relented, its bow still trained on Lu Chen, eyes narrowed in focus. The last Engager, the unknown, lingered in the shadows, its presence unnerving and unpredictable.
The Axe and Sword struck in unison—raw power and precision crashing down on Lu Chen. At the same time, the Hunter's arrows rained from above, sealing every path of escape.
Clang!
Lu Chen raised his blade just in time to block. The force was overwhelming—he was sent flying, crashing into the dirt several meters away. Blood sprayed from his lips. His ribs screamed in pain, but his mind was locked in.
Adrenaline surged.
Before he could stand, a Dagger-wielding Engager flashed into view—blade poised for the kill.
Too fast—
Lu Chen yanked out his own dagger, steel meeting steel with a brutal clash. Sparks flew.
He twisted, pivoted on instinct—a spinning kick sent the attacker stumbling back. No time to breathe—he lunged forward, Falselight humming with power.
One clean thrust.
The dagger-wielder fell still, and didn't rise again.
Three left.
Lu Chen stood in the mud, panting, chest heaving as the storm finally broke loose overhead.
Thunder cracked.
Rain poured.
Blood mixed with water on his skin, dripping from his fingers.
His blade—broken.
His dagger—shattered.
Only fragments remained, barely clinging to the hilt.
He threw them aside, breath ragged.
Lightning flashed. He reached down—pulled a spear from a fallen corpse, the shaft slick with blood and rain.
The Engagers stepped forward, slowly this time. The Axe. The Sword. The Hunter.
Each one calculating, silent. No more games. They could sense it too—this was the endgame.
Lu Chen tightened his grip. No words. No fear.
Just a spear, the storm, and will.