Chapter 102: The Meaning of Companions
In the end, courage and determination alone could not fully bridge the overwhelming gap in strength.
The Eagle-Headed Golem’s attacks never weakened in the slightest. It was like a tireless machine built solely for slaughter. Every swing of its axe, every crushing charge, carried cold and absolute killing intent.
Boom! Another vicious downward strike smashed into the ground, carving out yet another massive crater.
Little Donnie had only just dodged the previous attack and had not even managed to catch his breath before the golem’s next movement followed immediately after. Its thick, beast-like hind legs exploded with force as the enormous body twisted at a bizarre angle, the giant axe sweeping horizontally in a deadly arc that sealed off every possible escape route.
A dead end.
Little Donnie had been driven into the corner of the hall with nowhere left to retreat. He watched the icy gleam of the axe grow larger and larger in his eyes beneath the flickering firelight as the scent of death enveloped him once more.
He wanted to run. But his right leg burned with agony, refusing to obey him. This time, he truly could not dodge.
Yet there was no fear in Little Donnie’s eyes. Instead, they shone with fierce resolve. He gripped Darkpiercer tightly and raised the blade horizontally before his chest, planting his feet firmly as he prepared to block the attack head-on. He knew perfectly well that he could never stop it with his own strength. Even in the best-case scenario, his left hand would be crippled. More likely, his entire arm would be severed.
But if he could buy even one more second for Renee to locate the nodes, then it would all be worth it.
“Come on then, you giant pile of rocks!” he roared, ready to face his fate.
Just as he braced himself for the inevitable impact, a tall figure descended like a divine soldier from the heavens, charging in from the side.
Clang!
An even louder, harsher metallic explosion erupted through the hall. A gigantic broadsword, several times wider than before, slammed violently against the side of the massive axe with crushing force. Blinding sparks exploded through the darkness.
The tremendous collision knocked the axe off course, its blade barely scraping past Little Donnie’s body.
Boom! The axe crashed heavily into the wall beside him, causing the entire hall to tremble. Flying stone fragments sliced a thin cut across Little Donnie’s cheek.
But he paid it no attention. He could only stare blankly at the broad back standing before him, solid and immovable like a mountain.
It was his lord, Brother Nolan.
Holding the fully transformed greatsword form of Mountain’s Resonance with both hands, Nolan firmly blocked the remaining force of the strike, shielding Little Donnie completely behind him.
Without turning around, Nolan spoke in a calm, steady voice that carried clearly into the boy’s ears. “You really do have talent for battle, Little Donnie. You lasted two or three times longer than I expected.”
Only then did he glance sideways and smile at the stunned boy. Beneath the flickering flames, that smile felt indescribably reassuring.
“But you don’t need to carry everything alone. When you can’t hold on anymore, you should shout for help. There’s nothing shameful about that. If it were me, I’d do the same.” Nolan paused briefly, his voice becoming gentler yet even more powerful. “Because we’re companions.”
Companions…
Those simple words surged into Little Donnie’s heart like a warm current.
Looking at Nolan’s dust-covered profile, he suddenly felt his nose sting as his eyes uncontrollably reddened. It was like a child who could grit his teeth and refuse to cry after falling down, only to break into tears the moment a parent gently asked, “Does it hurt?”
That was what it felt like to finally have someone to rely on.
“B-Boss…” he choked out, unable to find the right words.
“You’ve already done well.” Nolan patted him on the shoulder before turning back toward the golem, his greatsword resting before him. “Leave the rest to me.”
With a low shout, Nolan charged forward to meet the golem head-on.
Little Donnie stared blankly at his back until Vivi finally rushed over and dragged him back into the safety of the corridor. Only then did he snap out of it. He wiped his face hard, smearing away both tears and blood, then silently began recovering his strength.
Nolan’s Dawn Aura emitted a warm glow in the darkness, slowly restoring Little Donnie’s injuries and exhausted stamina. Yet the boy’s eyes never left the man battling the Gold-tier golem at the center of the battlefield.
Not far away, Romina had heard every word Nolan spoke. She looked at the man who had stepped forward without hesitation to protect his companion, then at the battered young boy whose eyes had regained their light. A complicated emotion flickered through her gaze.
Companions…?
For Wood Elves, who valued kinship and their people above almost everything else, the word carried extraordinary meaning.
This man was completely different from every human she had ever met.
He was powerful and knowledgeable, confident yet mysterious. Leadership naturally radiated from his every action, yet he also valued loyalty and friendship deeply enough to place himself in danger for the sake of others. Someone who treasured companions like this…
Surely he couldn’t be a bad person.
Watching Nolan charge across the battlefield, the final traces of suspicion and wariness in her heart quietly faded away.
Meanwhile, at the center of the battlefield, the rhythm of combat shifted entirely the moment Nolan took over. The way he “held aggro” was completely different from Little Donnie’s desperate survival through sheer reflexes. If Little Donnie had been a gazelle fleeing from a savage beast, his escape filled with danger and uncertainty, then Nolan was an experienced matador facing down a raging bull.
Years of constant battle had given him vastly superior combat experience. His understanding of strength, timing, and battlefield rhythm far surpassed Little Donnie’s.
More importantly—
He knew the Eagle-Headed Golem’s attack patterns like the back of his hand.
Against the golem’s massive, devastating attacks, Nolan did not keep his distance with constant high-speed movement the way Little Donnie had. On the contrary, he deliberately remained within the golem’s attack range at all times, subtly neutralizing its mobility advantage. Doing so meant facing a far greater frequency of attacks, but it also allowed him to focus more efficiently and conserve stamina. A high-risk, high-reward technique reserved for true experts.
Nolan stood with his legs slightly apart and his center of gravity lowered, the greatsword angled toward the floor. His entire body resembled an immovable mountain as he carefully observed every motion of the Eagle-Headed Golem.
The giant axe came crashing down with a howl of wind, yet Nolan merely shifted his body slightly to the side. The blade passed just inches from his nose before obliterating the stone at his feet.
When the golem spun into a sweeping attack, Nolan advanced instead of retreating. Lowering his body, he slid beneath the axe handle while his greatsword carved a shower of sparks across the golem’s lower leg.
Every attack was evaded with the smallest possible movement and the least wasted effort, always at the razor-thin edge of danger.
Nolan simply understood the Eagle-Headed Golem too well.
In his previous life, he and his companions had wiped in this dungeon over a hundred times while farming it. He knew every skill, every motion, every tell. He could predict the next attack even with his eyes closed.
These war machines created by the Tyrians possessed immense power and terrifying defense. Within certain elemental planes, they could even fight endlessly without exhaustion.
But their weaknesses were equally obvious. Their attack patterns were relatively simple. Again and again, they repeated only a limited number of moves.
If this had been an Eagle-Headed Golem in its prime, its overwhelming power and extreme speed would have compensated entirely for those flaws, leaving Nolan no chance to react before being crushed into dust. But this version was heavily damaged, with deteriorated magitech circuits. Against a “veteran player” like Nolan, it no longer seemed quite so invincible.
If Little Donnie’s battle had been a thrilling dance with death, then Nolan’s combat resembled a deadly waltz where elegance and violence intertwined as one.
Now it was time to show true skill.