Smoke lay over the clearing like a wounded sky. The stench of charred wood, burned leather, and goblin blood saturated the clearing. Flames still gnawed at the shattered tents, but even their crackling seemed small against the sound rising from the trees.
A roar.
Low and deep—so deep that it crawled under Yukio's skin and set every muscle on edge.
Then came the footsteps.
Thud.
The earth shuddered.
Thud.
Dust rained from the splintered beams around them.
Yukio's heart climbed into his throat before he could stop it.
Beside him, Michibiki was all focus, without a trace of her usual smug grin. She knelt and pressed her palms against his chest. A soft green glow flared between her fingers, seeping into his skin.
"Light of Nature: Heal,"
She murmured.
Warmth spread through his ribs, knitting bone and easing the ache that had crushed the air out of him minutes before. Each breath came more easily now, though it still burned. He blinked against the brightness, flexing his fingers as strength trickled back into them.
"Feels like I could take on the world again,"
He said, trying to grin.
"Thanks."
Michibiki's hands fell away, the glow fading. Her eyes, usually sharp with teasing, held a rare flicker of worry before she masked it.
"Don't thank me,
She said quietly.
"That's all the help you're getting. When the boss gets here, you're on your own."
"Fine by me."
Yukio forced the grin wider, trying to sound braver than he felt.
"Wouldn't want you stealing my glory anyway."
He brushed a smudge of soot off her cheek. She jerked back, color rising.
"Idiot! Focus on the fight, not me."
He chuckled-but the laugh died as another thud rolled through the clearing, louder this time. The forest went still. Even the crackle of the fire seemed to hush.
From the line of shadows, something moved.
A shape taller than any goblin they'd fought so far stepped into the orange light. Its bulk filled the ruined gate. Layered muscles like coiled ropes ran along its frame, and thick plates of blackened iron clung to it—scarred, battered, but solid. In one hand it carried a crude club the size of a log, crusted with dried gore.
Its eyes glowed red, intelligent and cruel. When it exhaled, the air steamed.
Yukio's grin faltered. He tightened his hand on his sword until his knuckles whitened.
Michibiki whispered the word that sat upon their lips.
"Boss."
Their shared vision shimmered blue.
Monster Type: Goblin Chieftain
Level: 20
The numbers hung in Yukio's mind like a guillotine.
He let out a short, wavering whistle.
"Yeah… that's not fair."
"How the hell are we supposed to beat him?"
He muttered. The thing wasn't a goblin anymore. It was an army in one body.
Michibiki tilted her head, her tone dry.
"We? I thought you didn't need my help."
"Fine,"
Yukio said, rolling his shoulders.
"Just don't complain when I die."
The chieftain let out a roar that rattled the dirt beneath their feet. Yukio's pulse hammered so loud it drowned out everything else. He raised one hand toward the smoky sky.
"Wheel of Providence!"
Blinding, golden-jade light exploded before him in a great wheel inscribed with sixteen shimmering symbols, hovering in the air with the rhythm of fate itself.
Yukio's breath caught. Every turn of the wheel was a bet between life and death. He felt the weight of every eye, real or divine, upon him.
"Alright,"
He muttered under his breath, forcing a grin.
"Let's see what kind of hand I get."
The Chieftain charged, with each step causing a quake. The Wheel spun faster and faster, with question marks blurring. Every tick was a heartbeat.
"Don't screw me now…"
Yukio muttered.
The Wheel slowed, landing on a question mark. One slot flared blood-red.
Debuff: Shared Weakening
Both user and target's stats reduced by 50 % for 5 minutes.
"…you've gotta be kidding me."
In an instant, his strength ebbed away, the muscles going sluggish. Even his sword seemed heavier. Opposite him, the Chieftain's giant frame slowed, too, its roars more hoarse, less controlled.
Yukio steadied himself, swallowing panic.
"Guess that's what I get for gambling with fate."
The beast dragged its club through the soil, eyes burning. It didn't need full strength to crush him.
"Fine,"
Yukio said, voice hard.
"If I'm weaker, so are you."
He ran forward.
The club swung—wide, brutal. Yukio barely ducked; the wind of it brushed his hair, and the weapon buried itself in the ground with an impact that cracked the earth. The shockwave tossed him sideways. He hit hard, rolled, and came up coughing dirt.
"Even halved,"
He groaned,
"You hit like a damn mountain."
He lunged back in. The sword cut across the Chieftain's side—a shallow slice that drew dark blood but not enough to matter. The monster's growl rumbled like thunder. It swatted him with its free hand. The blow caught him square in the chest and hurled him several meters. He slammed into a half-burned tent post, wood splintering around him.
Every nerve screamed, his vision blurred.
He spat blood and forced himself to stand.
He rasped.
"I've lived my whole life on bad hands and dumb luck."
The Chieftain raised its club again. Yukio staggered right—then kicked a cloud of ash and dirt straight into its eyes. The beast bellowed, swinging blindly. Yukio darted in, every step agony, and drove his sword into its thigh. This time it sank deeper, biting to the hilt. The creature dropped to one knee, snarling.
Before Yukio could move, a huge hand closed round his torso. The pressure was instantaneous, the air crushed out of him, ribs creaking. Wheezing, he stabbed uselessly into the fingers trapping him.
Panic clawed at his chest. His vision tunneled.
No… not yet.
He reached down, found the dagger on his belt hand, and jammed it into the monster's wrist. The blade barely sank an inch, but the Chieftain roared and flung him aside.
Yukio hit the ground, rolled, and forced himself up onto trembling legs. His lungs were burning; blood trickled from his lip. The Wheel above him flickered weakly, still humming.
He stared up at it.
"Come on, Fukui,"
He whispered.
"Give me one more chance."
Nothing happened for one heartbeat. Then the Wheel shivered. One slot flared to life, shining gold:
Critical Chance Doubled
Yukio blinked.
"You actually listened?"
The Chieftain stomped forward, shaking the dirt off its eyes. Its roar was pure rage now, its swings wild but deadly. Yukio dodged to the left, felt the club graze his shoulder hard enough to rip cloth and skin. He hissed, blood running warm down his arm.
He tightened his grip upon it. The blade hummed with golden light.
"Let's finish this."
He sprinted forward, ducking under another swing. Each step sent pain shooting through him, but he used it-let it sharpen him. When the club came down again, he sidestepped so close he could smell the rot on the beast's breath, and drove his sword straight up into its chest.
Light exploded, and the blade cut through flesh and bone as if the world itself had willed it. The Chieftain's eyes went wide; its roar turned to a choked howl before it disintegrated into a storm of ash and glowing fragments.
It was silent for a while except for the hissing of dying flames and the labored breathing of Yukio.
He sank to one knee, sword still buried in the dirt, shoulders shaking. Sweat and blood streaked his face, his grin a broken slash across it.
He managed a bare whisper.
"I don't lose."
The Wheel of Providence flickered, its golden light fading until only darkness remained.
Michibiki approached him slowly, the sound of her boots crunching over ash. She looked him over—the shaking arms, cuts, manic smile—and exhaled.
"Reckless fool,"
She said, But there was no bite in her tone this time-just something like… respect. Yukio laughed once, breathless, before falling backward into the dirt.
The stars above were faint through the smoke, but he watched them until his eyelids grew heavy. Michibiki stood watch beside him, eyes scanning the trees as the last of the fires burned down low.
The night was quiet again with only the sound of Yukio's labored breathing and the soft tired chuckle that burst from him every few seconds, as if he still couldn't quite believe he'd survived.