The centipede charged toward me, its black, beady eyes glaring as if I were the one that had killed it earlier. Its mandibles opened wide, ready to dig into me.

  I rolled out of the way, but without any divine energy left to channel into my legs—since all my reserves were going into keeping the dagger powered—I barely escaped its bite. A sharp pain shot through my arm as I felt its fangs graze me. Using the momentum from my roll, I scrambled to my feet, already knowing I had been injured.

  Glancing down at my arm, I saw a deep gash. Worse than I expected. Blood gushed from the wound, staining my sleeve. The adrenaline had numbed the pain at first, but now that I was looking at it, the pain hit like a shockwave.

  I clutched my arm, gritting my teeth—but I had no time to dwell on it. As I looked up, the centipede's massive tail was already whipping toward me.

  I had no time to react.

  I barely managed to shut my eyes before the tail crashed into my side with the force of a freight train, launching me into the tunnel wall.

  Pain exploded through my entire body. My ribs cracked on impact, a sharp stabbing sensation making every breath agony. My vision blurred, darkness creeping at the edges. Even with what little energy I was trying to channel into my eyes, I could barely make out anything.

  Through my haze, I managed to glance up, expecting to see the centipede looming over me, ready to finish the job. But…it wasn't.

  Instead, it was moving away, scuttling further down the tunnel. It must have assumed I was already dead.

  I exhaled shakily, each breath sending another wave of pain through my chest. Slowly, I looked at my arm—the one that took the brunt of the centipede's attack.

  It was shattered. Completely limp. I couldn't feel anything, but I knew—the bones inside were nothing more than fragments beneath my skin.

  Then, I noticed something else.

  My other hand, the one gripping my dagger.

  Or rather…the place where my dagger had been.

  The weapon dissipated.

  "No…" I muttered weakly.

  That was my only weapon.

  Panic set in. Was I out of energy? I shut my eyes, searching inward, trying to feel for the energy that had once flowed through me.

  I wasn't out of energy.

  It was moving.

  Not outward, into the dagger, but inward—through my body.

  The energy first gathered in my arm, spreading like a soothing warmth. At first, I felt nothing but numbness, then slowly, control returned. My fingers twitched, and then—I could move my arm again.

  Snapping my eyes open, I watched in shock as my shattered limb…healed.

  Bones realigned. Flesh knitted itself back together.

  I exhaled in relief—then inhaled sharply. Pain stabbed through my chest. My ribs. They weren't healed.

  As if responding to my thoughts, the energy shifted again, this time flowing to my ribs. The stabbing sensation faded. The pain dulled, then disappeared entirely.

  One by one, the energy worked through my body, mending every bruise, every cut, every ache—until I was completely healed.

  I slowly pushed myself to my feet, unable to believe it.

  Not only had I survived—I was good as new.

  I clenched and unclenched my fists, testing my body, half expecting something to still be broken. But I was fine. More than fine.

  Then—something hit me.

  A hunger.

  Not a normal hunger, not the kind that comes after skipping a meal.

  This was different. Deeper. Gnawing. A need rather than a want.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Why? I had eaten earlier.

  Then, something caught my attention.

  A puddle of black liquid, just a few feet away.

  The same ones the centipede had been leaving behind.

  The scent hit me, and I was drawn to it—just like an animal drawn to the smell of food after starving for days.

  I didn't understand it, but my body did.

  Without thinking, I dropped to my hands and scooped the liquid into my mouth.

  I drank.

  It was bitter, yet oddly smooth—like black coffee with a faint, unexpected sweetness.

  As I swallowed, I felt it—warmth. Strength. Energy surging through me, spreading to every inch of my body.

  The hunger faded.

  But I didn't stop.

  I drank more. And more.

  I kept going until the puddle was empty, even licking up the stray droplets at the bottom.

  When I finally stood up, I felt it.

  Power.

  I could feel energy thrumming through my veins, pulsing in my body, stronger than before.

  I looked inward, checking how much I had absorbed.

  My entire body was overflowing with black energy.

  A grin spread across my face.

  I picked up the fallen dagger hilt and channeled energy into it.

  It formed instantly, sharper, denser—stronger.

  And I still had energy to spare.

  I channeled more into my arms, my legs, my eyes.

  My vision sharpened, clearer than ever before. My limbs felt powerful, weightless.

  This time—I could do it.

  This time—I would kill that damn centipede.

  I glanced at the ceiling to make sure Aya was still safe. My enhanced vision let me see her clearly—still stuck to the ceiling by the creature's black goop, but unharmed. Her chest rose and fell steadily. She was still breathing.

  Good.

  Now that I was fully healed and knew Aya was safe, I launched myself down the tunnel, exploding forward with renewed speed. The centipede was within reach in seconds.

  It must have sensed me coming because, just before I could strike, the creature spun around to face me.

  Its tail lashed out.

  I jumped, flipping over the attack, then, taking a page out of Aya's book, I swung my dagger at the creature's shell as I descended. My slash wasn't as fast or elegant as hers, but with my enhanced strength, it should have been enough.

  The dagger struck the shell with a loud clank.

  It bounced off. The shell remained unscathed.

  "Damn it," I cursed under my breath.

  I landed beside the centipede just as it turned toward me, clearly pissed that I had even tried to cut it. With a screech, it bolted forward, mandibles open wide, ready to tear me in half.

  I jumped again, dodging it easily and landing on its back.

  Without wasting a second, I raised my dagger high and drove it down, aiming for the same spot.

  Nothing.

  The blade skidded off harmlessly, and now the centipede was even angrier. It screeched and thrashed wildly, trying to throw me off.

  It succeeded.

  I was sent flying upward, slamming into the tunnel's ceiling. My back hit hard, debris shaking loose from the impact, and before I could react, gravity pulled me back down.

  Bricks and stones fell all around me. I managed to roll out of the way before they could crush me, but the centipede wasn't as lucky. Some of the debris struck its shell with solid thuds, and it hissed in pain.

  "That hurt," I muttered, catching my breath.

  I forced myself to my feet. My bones, once shattered from the impact, were already healing thanks to the devine energy flowing through me—but I could feel it.

  I was running low.

  My arms and legs felt weaker, my vision dulled, and even my dagger was losing its sharpness and density.

  I needed to end this. Fast.

  The centipede was still recovering, its back turned to me.

  This was my chance.

  I charged forward, leaping onto its back once more. It started thrashing again, but I gripped its shell tightly, refusing to be thrown off this time. I raised my dagger, ready to strike, when I noticed it.

  A crack.

  Right in the shell.

  How? I hadn't done that. Could it have been from Aya during their earlier fight? I doubt it—then it hit me.

  The debris. The falling bricks.

  I frowned. How did a few bricks do more damage than a divine-energy-powered knife?

  Then, realization clicked.

  "It must have been the blunt force," I murmured.

  That was it.

  Weapons weren't working because the centipede's shell was too tough to cut. But a strong enough impact—something heavy, something forceful—that could break through.

  Still gripping the shell as it thrashed beneath me, I tossed my dagger aside.

  Then, I channeled everything I had in my legs, into my fist.

  The energy surged, flooding into my arm, crackling beneath my skin. Black smoke flowed out from my fist. My muscles tensed, my knuckles burned with raw power.

  And then I punched the shell.

  It shattered.

  My fist broke through, slamming straight into the centipede's flesh beneath.

  Green blood poured out, spraying over my arm, but I didn't care.

  I had found a weakness.

  And I knew exactly what to do next.

  The centipede screeched in agony, its entire body convulsing beneath me. I wasted no time.

  I stood up, still balancing on its back.

  I took the energy I had been using to keep my grip and siphoned it away, spreading it between my legs and my fist.

  The centipede thrashed violently, its body twisting in desperation.

  I used it to my advantage.

  As it jerked upward, the momentum launched me toward the ceiling. But I was ready.

  I flipped my body midair, angling my feet downward—

  And then—

  The second I hit the ceiling, I kicked off, using every last ounce of energy in my legs.

  The force was explosive.

  I rocketed straight toward the centipede.

  Straight toward its skull.

  I drained the last remnants of my power from my eyes and legs, pouring everything into my fist.

  My vision went dark. I could no longer see.

  But I didn't need to.

  I knew where I was headed.

  With all my remaining strength, I drove my fist forward.

  And crashed through its skull.

  I felt it—felt myself tear through the thick plating, felt the wet, slimy insides give way.

  Felt the disgusting, gooey mess of its brain as I tore straight through it.

  And then—

  I slammed into the tunnel floor.

  The impact left a crater beneath me, dust and debris scattering around my motionless body.

  And suddenly—

  The exhaustion hit.

  The pain.

  The sheer, overwhelming drain of using every last drop of energy.

  I lay there, completely spent.

  I had put everything into that last attack.

  Weakly, I parted my lips, barely able to whisper:

  "Please… be… dead…"

  And then—

  Darkness took me.