The death of the goblin runt was only the beginning. The discharge of Pride’s authority, however brief, acted like a dinner bell.

  Deeper in the cave, things stirred.

  Ren leaned against the cold rock wall, wheezing. The System was silent, busily trying to patch the metaphysical leaks in his soul. He could feel the change, though. That tiny "trickle" of demonic mana the System mentioned wasn't flowing like a stream; it was dripping like molten lead into his veins. It was agonizing, burning away the frailty of his six-year-old body, forcing it to adapt or perish.

  His broken ribs knitted together with sickening cracks over the course of ten minutes. His senses sharpened in the dark. He picked up his rusty knife. It felt lighter now.

  System. Where’s the next one?

  [Scanning. Multiple hostile signatures detected approaching rapidly from the lower levels. Threat assessment: High. These are not runts.]

  A pack of five hobgoblins rounded the corner. They were taller than men, muscled, carrying rusted iron swords. They saw the small red-haired boy standing over their dead kin, and they roared in collective rage.

  Ren doesn’t have time to be afraid anymore. The fear had burned away with the mana.

  They charged.

  Ren moved. His body, fueled by that trickle of hellfire, reacted faster than his conscious mind could track. He ducked under the first clumsy sword swing, driving his small rusty knife into the hobgoblin’s knee joint with pinpoint precision.

  The beast howled and fell. Ren used his falling body as a step, launching himself at the second one. He was small—a target they couldn't easily hit. He was a hornet fighting bears.

  It was brutal. It was messy. He was cut, bruised, and thrown against walls. But every time he was hit, the demonic mana surged to heal him, making him slightly faster, slightly stronger. He was leveling up in real-time, his body being forged in violence.

  He fought like a cornered rat that had suddenly grown steel claws. He used their numbers against them, weaving between their legs, slicing tendons and arteries.

  When the last hobgoblin fell, gurgling on the floor, Ren stood amidst the carnage, drenched in black blood that wasn't his. He was breathing hard, but he wasn't tired. He felt exhilarated.

  [Combat Resolved. Experience Gained. Physical parameters adjusted. Current estimated strength equivalent to: E-Rank Adventurer.]

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  From F-minus to E in an hour.

  More, Ren thought, wiping blood from his eyes. His red hair seemed brighter now in the gloom, almost glowing. I need more.

  He descended deeper into the Maw. He fought for what felt like days, though it was probably only hours. He ate the rations the hobgoblins carried. He slept in short bursts hidden in crevices.

  He reached the bottom level of the dungeon. The air here was hot. The boss's room.

  It was a massive cavern with a pool of bubbling slime in the center. And rising from it was a Goblin King—a hulking monstrosity nearly ten feet tall, wielding a massive stone hammer infused with crude earth magic.

  The King saw the tiny intruder and bellowed, shaking the stalactites from the ceiling. It raised the hammer and slammed it onto the ground. A shockwave of earth spikes rippled toward Ren.

  Ren jumped, but not high enough. A spike caught his leg, tearing through muscle. He crashed to the ground. The King was on him instantly, the massive hammer raising for the killing blow.

  Ren looked up at death again. The demonic mana trickle wasn't enough for this. He needed the other half.

  System! The light! Give me the light!

  [Warning: Balancing demonic energy with angelic energy in an unconditioned host body has a 99% chance of soul collapse.]

  DO IT! That’s an order!

  [...Acknowledged. Emergency Unsealing: 0.001% of Seat 1: The Archangel of Humility, Michael.]

  If the demonic power was molten lead, this was liquid nitrogen. A searing, freezing white light flooded his veins, clashing violently with the red fire already there.

  Ren screamed as his body became a battlefield. His blood felt like it was boiling and freezing simultaneously.

  The Hammer came down.

  Ren instinctively raised his hand. He didn't try to dominate the King. He didn't try to destroy it. The essence of Humility wasn't about force; it was about nullification. It was the absolute refusal to be moved.

  A translucent, golden hexagonal barrier, no bigger than a dinner plate, manifested above his palm.

  BOOM.

  The stone hammer, capable of shattering boulders, hit the tiny golden shield.

  The hammer shattered into dust.

  The Goblin King stared, dumbfounded, at the stump of its weapon handles.

  Ren stood up. His left eye was glowing red, his right eye was glowing blue. Steam hissed from his skin where the two opposing energies fought for dominance inside him. He felt like he was being torn apart, but he also felt incredible.

  He looked up at the massive monster.

  "My turn," Ren whispered. He held out his hand, palm up. "Hellfire."

  A sphere of concentrated, pitch-black flame, no bigger than a marble, materialized. He flicked it casually toward the King.

  The moment the tiny black sphere touched the monster's chest, it didn't explode.

  It consumed. It expanded silently in an instant, enveloping the giant creature. The King didn't even have time to scream before it was reduced to ash.

  The flames vanished. Silence returned to the dungeon.

  Ren collapsed to his knees, the dual glowing eyes fading. He panted, staring at the pile of ash that used to be a dungeon boss.

  [Dungeon Cleared. Boss Defeated. Calculating Rewards...] [Host Condition Critical. Internal systems damaged by energy clash. Initiating emergency hibernation for repairs.]

  The world went dark again as Ren passed out on the dungeon floor, a six-year-old boy who had just conquered the impossible.

  Did you like the balance between Michael (Humility/Shield) and Lucifer (Pride/Hellfire)? Let me know in the comments!