With that final word, the Raven shrieked and began violently shaking its leg while flying—twisting Leon like a ragdoll caught in a storm.
Bones cracked. Joints screamed. Pain screamed louder.
Every fiber of Leon’s body strained and groaned under the assault. His nerves lit up like fireworks, each one screaming at him to give in. His body—what remained of it—was on the brink of collapse. He was one twist away from being turned into a bag of broken bones and shattered dreams.
His left arm... it was just bone now. Skin, muscle, all of it gone. Torn off and eaten.
The Raven had gone far beyond killing. It wanted to erase him—humiliate him—make him regret his very existence. Every second was a new definition of torture, and the beast enjoyed every moment of it.
This wasn’t even about revenge anymore.
Leon was unrecognizable now. His body dangled, battered and bloodied. His skin torn, soaked in his own blood and sweat, a red baptism of agony. He looked more like a zombie than a man. His eyes were glazed, his breath shallow. But he was still alive.
Even the pain had numbed. His body had long since passed the limit. His nervous system couldn’t process it anymore. His mind floated in a haze of blood loss and dehydration. He looked shriveled, like a husk. His HP had dropped into the low triple digits—and was still falling.
Death was so close now.
So... unfairly close.
But Leon wasn’t ready.
He had reasons to live—real ones.
His mother. His sister. His vengeance.
He clenched his bloodied teeth. He’d come so far. Fought too hard. Survived too much.
The Emperor... that bastard was still alive.
He hadn’t kept his promises yet—promises whispered to his mother’s fading form, promises he’d made to his sister before he left. He promised he’d return with the pill. He promised that he, and only he, would kill the Emperor with his own hands.
He hated breaking promises. And that’s why he rarely made them.
Because every promise he made, he meant it with everything he had.
He couldn’t die here.
He couldn’t let that monster win. Not the Raven. Not the Emperor. No one.
"I have to survive..."
"I... I must survive..."
The mantra rang in his mind again and again, louder than the pain, louder than the screams, louder than death itself.
And then, suddenly—he smiled.
Through the blood. Through the pain. Through the madness. He smiled.
It was faint. Weak. But it was real.
Because in that moment...
He remembered something. Something important.
It was as if a memory had been buried, hidden beneath all the chaos, and the pain had unlocked it.
And the fire returned to his eyes.
He finally had a plan—and it was simple.
Something he should’ve thought of earlier, but hadn’t. Maybe it was the pain. Maybe it was the chaos. Maybe it was the suffocating presence of death pressing against his skin like a second layer. But now, clarity had found him.
Even the Raven sensed something had shifted. But it couldn’t figure out what. That unsettled it... but only briefly.
After all, what could a dying, half-eaten human with one good arm possibly do?
The strength difference was insurmountable, right? Right?
So it dismissed the uneasy sensation crawling down its spine and dipped its head for another bite of flesh. But instead of a scream or a look of defeat—
That twisted, battered face—dripping blood, barely alive—was smiling.
Fury surged through the Raven.
It wanted to silence that expression. Permanently. It hadn’t planned to end the boy so soon, but now it was going to rip the smile off his face slowly—
Before it could act, something slammed into its core.
A blast of pure Mana surged from Leon’s legs—Mana Jet, focused entirely downward.
The force tipped the Raven off balance, spinning it violently mid-air.
Its massive wings flapped chaotically as it lost control. It had no idea where the force came from, but it knew who caused it.
And that made it rage.
But there was no time to act.
The scenario had flipped—its claws were still gripping Leon’s skull, but now Leon was on top, leveraging gravity.
His right hand gripped the Raven’s neck tightly. His legs aimed downward. And then—
Leon wasn’t just falling. He was driving the Raven down with every last drop of Mana in his body.
His left arm was nothing but bone. His skin had long since been peeled away. He couldn’t even feel it anymore. But he didn’t need two arms. Just one was enough.
He pressed down harder, twisting his body to guide the Raven’s descent.
The wings clawed at the air. The Raven shrieked and writhed, but it couldn’t right itself.
Its head had been jerked at an unnatural angle—it couldn’t tell up from down anymore.
Panic flared in its three glowing eyes. It knew.
If it hit the ground , there was a very real chance it wouldn’t get up again.
Leon wasn’t about to give it that chance.
His thoughts, sharp and focused despite the searing pain, repeated the only thing that mattered:
Hold on. Drive it down. Don’t let it recover.
If the Raven regained balance, it was over.
He silently thanked gravity, God, the system—whatever force allowed this suicidal plan to have a sliver of hope.
His mind wandered—briefly—amid the madness.
This is only a Level 7 dungeon, he thought grimly. And yet this fight was beyond brutal. What would a Level 20 dungeon be like? Or 50?
But even that fear couldn’t stop him.
He wouldn’t give up. Not with his promises still unfulfilled. Not while his mother still lay sick, unable to cultivate. Not while the one who had destroyed their lives still breathed freely in the empire.