Emily was captivated by those sky-blue eyes that shown with such crazy Machiavellian strength, exciting her in ways that sent her cheeks flushing even now. He was a wildcard that she knew was pure trouble and would only get her hurt in the end. Thrilling her in ways that the boy of her dreams, standing so tall and strong beside her, never could.
And she was okay with that, she realized. Okay living a storybook life of domestic bliss, standing by Richard’s side. His dutiful wife, the doting mother of his future children. Perhaps a doctor working part time in a clinic when not cherishing time with her family or sweet gentle nights with her man. And she’d be totally enamored with such a life, if the world hadn’t gone to hell. Even if it meant never seeing this beautiful wild midnight stallion who had rocked her world so fiercely, once upon a time.
Her dark knight.
Her ultimate champion she both feared and hungered for so badly it scared the hell out of her.
Yet that was nothing. A heady afternoon’s fantasy, compared to the jolt of terror she now felt, catching a glimpse of the horrified dismay in Eric’s gaze.
Knowing that the one she had been counting on so desperately to save them apparently didn’t think they had a chance in hell of making it out of here alive.
And that’s when she heard it, that horrible mocking laughter, as the giant minotaur that had seemed like the perfect boss to this insane dungeon, was no longer roaring with predictable rage.
Rather, it was smiling. A twisted, all too human smirk, possessing the eyes of a master chess player, or a consummate hustler. One who had been stringing them along the whole time.
Letting them think that they had any sort of chance at all… before unleashing an aura so horrifically strong, with a pressure so inconceivably vast, that it sent them all crashing to their knees.
A Level ?? Bronze Contender has revealed his Killing Aura!
1200 Points in Martial Stats has COMPLETELY SUPPRESSED 370 Points in your own!
You are unable to move!
You are unable to process any thoughts beyond your own mortal terror!
Emily heard Yuki’s terrified cursing in Japanese, Ron’s furious sob, his final act seeming to be to collapse before her, a futile effort that didn’t even block her view, let alone counter the nightmare now unfolding before her eyes. Richard’s normal roaring chant was now a desperate plea to a higher power, the only one among them who had attended church regularly, before everything collapsed. Of Jack and Steve, she heard nothing at all. A tiny corner of her mind hoped they were already unconscious and that their death would be painless and quick.
Yet mostly what she felt was terror.
Terror when the minotaur laughed with such arrogant confidence, gazing her way with features far more human than the monstrous caricatures they had faced so far in this dungeon. Their opponent was clearly capable of nuanced reflection, and just as clearly, all he felt for them was overweening contempt.
And he was no 30 foot giant.
He was seven feet at most, covered in plate and mail of odd shimmering alloy radiating magic so fierce it was blinding to her eyes, with a battle axe he swung about with such casual mastery, whipping it around in lazy moulinets at shocking speed.
“My, how fascinating. So my sire was right. There are Terrans willing to dare these depths, thinking themselves actually worthy of ascension upon what will be OUR property, too stupid to take the hints given, when neither Green nor Blue tiles were permitted upon their continents.”
His sneer turned to cold disdain. “And all of you who would dare this dungeon are so contemptuously weak that you crumple before my very presence? Pathetic! Beyond pathetic!”
He then furrowed his brow, turning to the only White-tier delver still on his feet.
“Except for one. One who still dares to stand. One who even dares to meet my gaze.”
The minotaur’s smile grew as discerning eyes flicked over Eric’s graceful physique, revealing canines that no herbivore should have.
“Yet look at you. Little more than a savage, wild animal. Wearing scraps of animal skins that will protect you little better than rags before Death’s Kiss,” he said, gesturing with his own whirling battle axe that Emily was breathlessly certain could cut through even a bank vault as effortlessly as her flicking a knife through water.
“Your blows would pound against my mithril plate for hours without making a dent. Pathetic!” The minotaur shook his head in mock dismay. “Are there truly no worthy Contenders among the lot of you? Must I wait another year in this place for suitable challenge?”
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If Eric had had a lick of common sense, he would have fallen to his knees and begged for his life, as they were no worthy challenge at all for this fearsome beast. OR at least, that’s what Emily would have done, praying that she could convince the creature that they were utterly unworthy of his time, and that it would besmirch his honor to lower himself to dealing with trash like themselves. If nothing else, Emily would have begged for the privilege of serving it, praying that she could earn its regard, or at least allay it’s contempt.
Instead, Eric chuckled. “Is your position truly that onerous, that you must wait a year between worthy battles?” Emily’s one-time lover shook his head in mock sympathy. “I’m lucky if I get more than a day’s break between fights. Truly, the plights of those who have achieved worthy Bronze ascension are beyond my ken.”
The minotaur turned to glare Eric’s way. “You would dare to speak to me so casually, mortal?” The creature snorted, shaking his head. “It is one thing for you to find the courage to stand before me, proving yourself better than trash. Quite another for you to dare address me as an equal. Now tell me why I shouldn’t cut you down this instant for your insolence alone?”
Emily choked back a sob, fearing that this was the end. Yet there was something about the twinkle in Eric’s eyes that sent chills down Emily’s spine. Or perhaps it was the sheer cocky arrogance in his smile.
“Because I’m guessing that you, like me, aren’t interested in trite games or being manipulated like pawns by clan elders. You’re hungry for something more. To prove yourself in the crucible of ascension. To rise beyond everyone who would mock us, demean us, and see us fall.” Eric’s grin widened when the Minotaur said nothing, merely gazing at Eric with what was now a hawk-like intensity as Eric rubbed his chin in thought.
“And if my senses don’t deceive me… you also walk a cultivator’s path.”
Eric’s grin widened at the surprised snort this earned him, and Emily could sense him radiating a pressure he hadn’t before… or perhaps, Eric had just been holding back.
Yet the effect was obvious, the minotaur’s contempt turning to curiosity as he examined Eric a bit more carefully, his battle axe now resting casually on his shoulder.
“A half-elf monkey who also dares to embrace the true arts. How fascinating! Father assured me that the goblins had corrupted your world seed so utterly that there was no chance at all of that happening.”
Eric grinned. “Fortunately, goblins are stupid enough to fall for clauses in their own contracts, and certain boons supersede all corrupt administrative attempts to destroy. And that’s a boon for you and I both, for we now have the perfect opportunity to trade pointers along our path. Do we not, fellow disciple of The Way?”
The minotaur froze, glaring at Eric with such contempt that Emily couldn’t help but whimper her terror, because Eric just had to take it one step to far.
Emily shuddered when the minotaur abruptly laughed.
“Oh the balls on you, mixed-blood! A Basic White-tier student who would dare to challenge one who has already ascended to Bronze!” The minotaur snorted his contempt, whipping his axe about in threatening moulinets once more. “And why should I bother, when you have no weapon worthy of being called such? Nothing that could so much as scratch my armor, and my axe could effortlessly cleave you in twain?”
Eric chuckled. “And how easy it would be for you to do just that. Almost as easy as goblins with arcane blasters sniping poor students practicing basic forms at the academy.”
The minotaur froze, eyes lighting up with a furious heat. Eric quickly spoke on.
“But you’re better than that, and so am I. Because such acts of cowardice avail us NOTHING! No growth, no honing ourselves against the crucible of peril. It gets us nothing but bad karma. A stain upon the pristine white gi of our souls.”
In the blink of an eye, Eric was utterly stripped bare of everything but a thin linen tabard that went down to his knees. A piece of cloth that he now wore like a training gi.
“So I propose we trade pointers like true martial artists. Wielding no weapons, save the bodies housing our meridians, and whatever spiritual energy techniques we can bring to bear.”
The minotaur gazed at Eric for long moments, before breaking out in fresh laughter. “Truly you are bold, half-blood!”
Eric grinned. “And what cultivator worthy of the title is not? Come, kung fu brother. Trade pointers with me, and let’s see if I am a worthy enough opponent for you to wet your blade upon the crucible of my soul.”
For long moments, the axe-wielder stared coldly at Eric, Elise feeling their fates dangling by the thinnest of margins.
It would be so laughably easy for that minotaur to cleave Eric in half with a single swipe of his axe, and the rest of them were so pathetically weak that they couldn’t even stand.
And perhaps that was the point. What Eric was betting their lives on.
The jaded ennui of a creature far more powerful than most of them could possibly conceive, looking for distraction. A prisoner of his own maze, just as much as they.
Still, Emily was shocked when the shimmering silver-alloy armor of plate and mail covering the massive minotaur suddenly disappeared, along with his axe.
What now stood before them all was a magnificent display of oiled muscle somehow glistening in the sourceless light, the beast not even bothering with a loincloth. He, and it was most definitely a he, was almost entirely human, save for a face that was both human and bovine, with silver-tipped horns that could effortlessly disembowel anyone.
“My name is Minose Trueblood. I look forward to honing the blade of my soul against a worthy opponent!”
Eric grinned, eyes alight not with the fear Emily had thought to see, but excitement.
“My name is Eric Silver. I too am eager to ascend upon the crucible of your martial mastery.”
And much to Emily’s utter disbelief, the minotaur flinched. “You’re Aurelia Silver’s get! She’s no cultivator! Who is your teacher?”
Eric’s grin widened. “Defeat me and you will earn her name.”
And whatever else Emily might have been expecting them to say was lost when both figures seemed to blur, moving so fast as their bodies collided and the world exploded in flame.