The Ruin Knight—a creature shrouded in white frost, its body veiled beneath layers of cursed ice—emerged from the haze. It was a powerful Rank Three monster, and though Damon had battled worse, few had annoyed him like this one.

Its form was hidden in that relentless frost, and its nascent domain hadn't yet matured, but it was still dangerously close to breaking into Rank Four… or so Damon suspected. He couldn't be sure.

'Could be a powerful ability.'

Only those chilling blue eyes were visible, glowing like twin moons in the mist. Just approaching it caused the body to seize up with frostbite—even for Damon, whose body was built with elemental and magical resistances.

And it never came alone.

Its minions—soldiers of ice—always followed, hollow-eyed warriors that clanked and screeched across the broken terrain like rusted instruments in a dying orchestra.

Damon had slain plenty of ice-attribute monsters, both humanoid and grotesque. But the Ruin Knight?

It was the most irritating of them all.

It was swift, erratic, and unpredictable. Its attacks left freezing wounds that refused to close, and even reaching it was a trial, thanks to that accursed frozen mist it carried like a shroud.

He only knew its name thanks to his Appraisal skill:

[Ruin ????]

The question marks mocked him—a reminder that the he couldn't provide a complete appraisal.

He was still lower ranked.

So he simply named it "Ruin Knight."

Damon's jaw clenched tight.

'Every damn time… every goddamn time I wait for Matia… this creature finds me first.'

It wasn't just stronger. It wasn't just faster. It didn't just bring a crowd of minions. No.

"The son of a bitch can fly too…" Damon muttered.

His grudge against the Ruin Knight was personal.

It wasn't about the countless times it impaled him with those jagged spears of ice. It wasn't the endless chase, the repeated fights.

No—what truly hurt was what happened after Damon, in a rare bout of civility, tried to build a home.

After harvesting monster drops, after clawing back a sliver of sanity, he had set up a quaint little cottage amidst the ruins.

Just because he was mad didn't mean he couldn't be civilized.

And then… the Ruin Knight came.

"The goddamn door was open—but no, you broke my goddamn window…"

He jabbed a finger at the misty figure in rage, standing amidst the rot-covered lands.

"I thought we had something special, my sworn nemesis! But you just had to hurt my feelings… That window was special to me… you could've just used the damn door—it was open!"

The Ruin Knight's icy blue gaze stared blankly at the ranting madman.

Then it moved.

The mist thickened, swirling in anticipation. Before Damon could unleash his fury, the knight conjured a thick shield of ice.

It knew what was coming next.

A blast of black flame engulfed the battlefield, melting a portion of the ice.

Damon's laughter echoed through the heat and haze, twisted and gleeful.

"You're not bad," he said, voice like cracked iron. "Fine, I'll recruit you as my minion… no need to feel honored…"

From the depths of his breastplate, Valarie watched with her usual calm.

He wouldn't win easily. That much was certain.

And, as usual, she witnessed their brutal clash stretch on for hours.

The ground shattered. Blood scattered in arcs. Broken shadows rose and fell like phantoms dancing to a silent dirge.

Eventually, Damon clicked his tongue.

"I'll let you off this time… See you tomorrow… that's when I'll actually kill you…"

His body twisted into a swirling black silhouette. He skated across the corrupted ground, a smear of darkness vanishing into the distance.

The Ruin Knight gave chase, wings of ice expanding behind it as it soared after him, unleashing icy roars and frozen magic in a relentless storm.

They passed countless monsters locked in their own struggles. Damon used the chaos to slip away.

He reappeared some distance away, limping.

His skin was marked with frozen blue lines—too cold to bleed, too cursed to heal. A gaping hole marred his gut. One arm had turned solid with frost, and the side of his jaw was deathly blue. His hair, tangled and stiff, clung together with blood and frost, giving it the texture of frozen seaweed.

He looked like the ghost of a drowned king. His ashen crown on his head

Clicking his tongue in annoyance, he muttered, "Just so you know, I didn't run away—it was a draw… but I mostly won…"

Valarie remained silent. She assumed he was talking to the phantoms that plagued his broken mind.

"Valarie… Valarie, I didn't lose, right?"

Her soul flickered. He was talking to her after all.

She had believed he was addressing his hallucinations again.

"Hmmm… I see. That creature always seems to find you. Your luck with it must be quite high…"

She studied him quietly. 'How many foes left until the Soul Counter is full…?'

He narrowed his eyes, squinting toward the horizon.

"Lemme see… hmm, not much. Just ten left."

Valarie felt a surge of hope ripple through her incorporeal form.

Ten more.

Only ten more foes to slay, and he would complete the armor's Soul Counter. With that, he could finally unlock the Crown of Silence enchantment—the one thing that could return his sanity.

Once that happened, she could finally make him leave this cursed place.

And finally… accept the truth.

That Matia was gone.

It was hard convincing a madman that his friend was dead. But a sane man—he could be reasoned with. Even if the truth shattered him… it was better than this endless limbo.

He was still young. He had time. He had a future.

He just needed someone to remind him.

Valarie had prepared her words, even if they'd cut him deep.

After that, they would find their way out. She already had a plan. An escape route.

Damon grinned, a small giggle rising from his cracked lips.

"I can get nine more today… then, for my final enemy…"

His eyes gleamed with determination.

"I will slay the Ruin Knight."

Valarie sighed.

'Why does he always make things so difficult…?'

But it was fine. He had been setting traps. Studying the knight's patterns, its strengths, its abilities.

He had prepared for this day.

Especially with Ravenous—his shadow hunger—to help bridge the gap between them.

"It's not like he would actually die," she muttered softly.

What was the worst that could happen?

And if he refused to leave…

Then she would drag him out by force.

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