‘I should be more proactive.’

  As thoughts spun in Cain’s mind, he started molding bombs in his hand.

  In his view, the giant regained composure by filtering the air with his prana.

  Ragta, once a giant of muscle and might, now stood gaunt — his once-bulging frame reduced to a shadow of its former power.

  Giants only need two things to grow stronger — eat and train.

  “Their civilization may be crumbling, but their strength —"

  A whooshing sound tore through the air.

  Ragta spun his scourge, then lashed out—faster, sharper, merciless.

  The golemite tried to mimic him.

  Scythes clashed. The imitation faltered.

  Its blades cracked, splintering under pressure.

  Four hooked chains screamed through the air, all aimed for limbs and sensors.

  The golemite dropped low, front paws planting hard. It flipped, trying to spin clear in a full 360.

  But—

  Clank. Clank. — Shatter!

  Ragta tugged, two more arms gone.

  It landed uneven, staggering—what remained now resembled a twisted, broken centaur.

  “I need to assist it right now.”

  Cain couldn’t sit back and watch.

  He split his gun in two, charging each with ten tungsten rounds.

  He wasn’t aiming for Ragta rather…

  Eight shots rang out — four from the east, two from the west.

  Each one lined up in perfect sync, like train carriages in motion.

  Bullets tore through the air.

  Two unguarded giants — blind in their triumph, drunk on victory.

  Midi and Dilim didn’t notice it at all.

  Cain wasn’t aiming for a lethal hit.

  As metal made contact with flesh, a sickening crip resounded.

  Their jaws snapped out of place — bones cracking, flesh splitting as the first bullets hit.

  Teeth scattered across the blood-slick ground.

  Two more rounds followed, punching through nose their cheekbones.

  Cain knew the two giants could feel death creeping in.

  He aimed carefully — shooting to mortally wound, not to kill.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  He wanted to announce his presence.

  “Ota!”

  (Human!)

  Midi and Dilim roared in slurry unison, crimson and cerulean blood streaking their faces.

  “Follow me ugly bastards, let’s dance!”

  Cain ran towards one single direction — to the Golemite.

  Midi and Dilim charged blindly due to pain and wounded pride.

  Their torn faces sizzled as flesh and bone squirmed, struggling to reform.

  Cain was focused, he ran as fast as he could.

  Two hundred meters.

  A hundred meters.

  Ten meters.

  Jump boost — making him gain a momentarily increase in leg muscles.

  [00:14:41]

  Cain was using the most rudimentary magic to save stamina.

  He knew time was running out.

  With a flip, he landed on a sensing crystal and shot a simple smoke ammunition on Ragta’s face.

  The golemite studied the man — it recognized him.

  Cain felt like a smaller, softer shardling — one that served under it.

  A reliable minion at that.

  Helping him evolve to this stage. It called to him.

  “Figaro?”

  Cain replied as loud as he could, almost breaking his vocal cords.

  ‘Please internet videos, this better all be effective and true.’

  “La la la la!”

  He pointed at the giant and made a walking gesture with his fingers.

  Then he tapped its broken arms, signaling it to fall back and recover.

  It understood immediately — golemites had no pride in battle.

  It grabbed its scattered arms and launched a sloppy attack, just to keep pressure on.

  Cain conjured fire in his palms, waving it to direct the golemite upward.

  Arriving at the cliff, he pointed out the fallen shardling.

  With a pound, the golemite assimilated ores reach peak health instantly.

  Pointing upward the rock face, Cain wanted it to go up.

  ‘Up we need to go up for a high ground.’

  Seeing it confused, Cain flew up the hundred meter cliff.

  ‘Hurry up! Don’t dawdle around golemite!’

  “La la la la!”

  The golemite followed. Meanwhile, Cain fired at Ragta in the distance.

  He was still checking Midi and Dilim’s wounds when another round burst beside him — another smoke shot.

  Ragta, burning with rage and pressure, didn’t stop to fully assess their wounds.

  Under fire, he encased Midi and Dilim in crystal for protection — knowing they could be healed once they made it back.

  Wasting no time, he shed flesh for armor — crystal encasing rage

  The air turned dense, each movement etched in pellucid clarity.

  Ragta sprinted toward Cain and the golemite, fury boiling in every step.

  To him, the human was filth — despicable and cunning.

  He wanted Cain dead.

  He knew how fragile humans were. One solid hit would be enough to kill him.

  But that wasn’t enough.

  His rage demanded more—he wanted to see Cain hacked apart, shredded into pieces, not just dead but broken.

  Ragta sidesteps the bullets, clean and steady.

  The golemite was having a hard time aiming at him.

  The whip glowed an early yellow, Ragta was going all in.

  A left sway — clean and sharp.

  Cain frantically scrolled through his terminal.

  ‘Plan E! I need to execute plan E!’

  He was getting anxious by the second.

  The giant was two hundred meters away, he’ll reach their position in four seconds.

  Time stretched further.

  Cain clicked on the terminal.

  The movement of the giant becomes more agile by the second.

  Its face had hollowed, sunken to skeletal thinness.

  Ragta gained enough momentum and dunked towards them.

  The golemite unleashed a final barrage.

  The scythe of nine had become a monstrous reaper’s blade, thirty-five meters long and closing in fast.

  The weapon twisted — jagged blades jutting out, its edge soaked in blood.

  All of their eyes locked onto each other.

  Cain grinned — the giant was exactly where he needed him.

  “Activate!”

  Gravity formation below pulled the giant down.

  ‘Five times, this is too easy.’

  As he saw it sank into the air, it looked up and smirked back.

  Ragta’s legs tensed up as prana converged.

  Still mid-air it executed a double jump.

  With the remaining prana converging and burning the last shred of muscles.

  The air crackled — Triple Jump!

  Mid-air, Ragta's prana burst sent shockwaves in all directions.

  His frame curved upward — he wasn’t falling. He was coming.

  ‘What?! Impossible! I cannot believe he can learn Triple Jump! This! He shouldn’t have been able to do this!’

  His decade of data, of algorithms and formulas — none of it had predicted this.

  Cain doubted if any of them were true at all.

  Life flashing before his very eyes.

  His grandpa and all the harsh training.

  ‘It shouldn’t be able to learn such thing with that much muscle mass!’

  The golemite could see his state, his heart rate over a hundred and eighty.

  The scythe swung towards the man and stone.

  Both of them will be bisected if it lands.

  ‘The muscle mass was gone due to him getting thin! Come on man!’

  [00:00:09]

  His legs trembled. Magicule flow flickered — nearly dry.

  The scythe’s blade already closing in from behind.

  About to rip apart man and stone.