His breathing came in short, uneven gasps as he sat down heavily. A sharp huff escaped his lips, and he closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on the slow return of his strength. He sat beside a pile of goblin corpses.
For about twenty minutes, he rested there, cleaning his daggers while recovering his stamina. When he finally stood, he went to each goblin and cut off a single ear, slipping them into a bag he carried on his hip.
With the task done, he returned to the main road, where the entrance to the dungeon awaited him. He stood at its mouth, staring into the darkness, uncertain. His goal had nothing to do with this place—he was after the teeth of infected wolves, which roamed in packs near the forest, outside the dungeon.
But curiosity got the better of him.
He stepped into the cave. It was wide enough for a small group, allowing him to move freely. However, the deeper he went, the harder it became to see. No torches. No glow. Just pitch black.
He stopped midway, hesitating. He had no light source. Should he keep going… or turn back?
That's when he felt it—his foot pressing down on something soft and squishy.
He instinctively recoiled, stepping back—but it was already too late. Whatever it was had latched onto him. It slithered from his boot up his leg, crawling along his back, heading for his spine.
He reached to pull it off, panic setting in—but before he could, the thing drove a stinger into his back and burrowed into his body.
He collapsed to the floor, screaming in agony. The pain was unbearable, searing through his bones as the creature invaded him. The sound of his own screams echoed through the dungeon.
With trembling hands, he grabbed a cloth from his pouch and shoved it between his teeth, biting down hard.
Tears streamed from his eyes. He felt helpless—desperate. Every time he tried to scream, the cloth muffled him. All he could do was bite down and endure.
He lay on the cold, unforgiving ground, the parasite fusing with his body. He could do nothing but suffer—whether he liked it or not, whether he could endure it or not.
After about thirty minutes, the pain stopped—but he didn't have the strength to move. He lay there on the ground, tears still running down his cheeks, saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth, staring blankly at the sand beneath him.
After a while, he pushed himself up onto his knees, struggling to sit upright. He let the cloth in his mouth fall to the ground and wiped his face. With trembling hands, he checked his body, touching the areas he was most suspicious of.
Fuck… that hurt. Almost like getting kicked in the balls, he thought to himself.
Everything seemed normal until his fingers reached his back. His eyes widened—he felt something there, along his spine. It was like lines, or maybe letters, etched into his skin.
Alarmed, he quickly pulled his hand away, afraid that touching it might trigger something. When nothing happened, he exhaled a shaky breath.
Well, this isn't good. First I get violated by some unknown creature, and now I've got mystery marks on my back. It better not be a disease or something.
He got to his feet, unsteady, and stumbled out of the dungeon. The moment the fresh breeze touched his face, he felt a rush of relief. The sunlight stung his eyes, but he smiled—the simple joy of not dying. It was noon.
Realizing he was in no condition to finish the request, he decided to return to the city and rest.
Back at the inn, in thequiet of his room, he set down his things and took off his shirt. He turned his back to the mirror to get a look.
What he saw left him stunned.
There were runes—six of them—etched along his spine.
Each had a distinct appearance. The first was shaped like a fox's eye. The second resembled a scythe. The third was a jagged spiral. The last three were solid black circles, as if they were sealed or locked.
"Huh… I guess I've got some kind of powers now? What the hell are these runes… and what do they even mean?" he muttered.
He let out a long sigh, then decided to try something.
He closed his eyes and focused on the first rune—the fox-like eye. He could feel something stirring, like a subtle surge flowing into his eyes. When he opened them and looked into the mirror, his irises had changed. They now resembled a fox's—sharp, golden, focused.
He scanned the room. At first, nothing seemed different… until he looked down at his hand.
His eyes widened.
He could see through his flesh—blood veins glowing faintly beneath the skin. Not just that—he could pinpoint the most vital areas of the body. Arteries. Tendons. Weak points. Things no normal human could ever see.