As we enter the church, it feels strangely empty. The only thing that stands out is the door on the other side of the room.
"What type of church has nothing in it? Where are the statues, the large colorful windows? What is this, the Vatican's holy bunker? This is boring as hell—let's leave."
I turn around and pull the door handle. Then, I turn back to Monty.
"The door's locked. We might be fucked."
Monty just stands there, staring at the other door. "It's going to be a boss fight, isn't it?"
"Alright, let's get it over with. It doesn't matter much anymore."
I walk forward into the empty round room. As I reach the center, the door on the other side flings open, and in steps a minotaur. I put my duffle bag down and push it toward Monty.
"I'll try to keep it busy, and you can figure out a way to kill it."
I pull my arm out of its makeshift sling—it's healed enough to use with only some discomfort. I take my crowbar in my dominant hand and focus on buying us time.
The minotaur, a beast standing twice my height, moves with terrifying speed. I focus on dodging as it charges at me. I jump out of the way as it rushes past, stopping only to turn and charge again. When I get the chance, I strike at its knee, hoping to slow it down. The hit does little—it only enrages the creature.
It swings a massive arm at me, and though the impact isn’t hard, it sends me flying across the room. I land on my injured arm, pain exploding through me. Monty is still searching the bags for something. I lose focus for just a second, and the minotaur is already in an overhead swing. I barely scramble out of the way as its giant club smashes into the floor.
As it struggles to pull its club free, I seize the moment and deliver a powerful strike to its oversized fingers, aiming to break them. But the minotaur jerks its hand away, and instead, I only manage to shatter its nail. It lets go of the club and roars in fury, shaking the room.
That was a mistake. The club was more of a burden than an asset. Now, unarmed, the minotaur attacks wildly—punches, kicks, and charging strikes with its horns. I dodge as best as I can, but one hit lands squarely, knocking the air from my lungs and sending me stumbling.
I see Monty charging toward the minotaur. I can't let it notice him. Forcing myself to stand, I rush forward, taking the minotaur by surprise as I smash my crowbar down on its head. Monty reaches it and stabs down into its back. Whatever he did, the minotaur barely reacts.
It swings at me again. I try to dodge, but my ankle twists, and I take the full hit. My shoulder dislocates on impact, and my arm burns with pain. I collapse, unable to stand. But then, the minotaur wobbles. It sways, swinging at nothing, its furious breathing becoming shallow.
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Monty rushes to my side, helping me up and dragging me toward the entrance. I ask, "What did you do to it? Did you poison it?"
Monty gives a sheepish grin. "Well, that’s what happens when you stab a minotaur with two full syringes of fentanyl mixed with ketamine. It does not look pleasant."
"Yeah, no shit. Two full syringes of fentanyl isn’t a small amount. Isn’t that enough to make a man overdose?"
Monty looks me dead in the eye. "What else was I supposed to do? The gun is busted, and my knife ain't gonna do shit against that. Let's just wait for it to overdose and leave this damned room."
Monty is right—there was little else he could do. "Yeah, you're right, but that is one hell of a way to go out. We should put it out of its misery." I hand him my crowbar. "Use the straight end and go for the eye. The faster it's dead, the better. And don’t let it hit you—it doesn’t feel good."
I try to laugh at my own joke, but my lungs feel like they’re on fire, and it turns into a cough.
Monty approaches the minotaur and drives the crowbar into its eye. But it’s not enough. The minotaur thrashes, and before Monty can finish the job, the drugged-out beast lands a solid hit. Monty stumbles back, gasping for air.
Still, he forces himself up and charges again. The minotaur, struggling to stand, is failing under the lethal dose coursing through its body. Monty takes a running start and kicks the crowbar deeper into its skull, finally killing it.
As the minotaur goes limp, Monty makes his way back over to me and sits down next to me.
"There really should be a sign above the door to a boss room. Like, come on, how could we have known what this place was?"
I nod in agreement.
"There really was no warning. Who would look at a large, ominous door and think, ‘Yeah, there’s something bad behind that’? I’ll tell you who—cowards. They wouldn’t blindly step into a room they don’t know. Does that make them smarter than us? Yes. We should probably think before we act, especially here."
Monty laughs at the sheer absurdity of the situation.
I lay there, exhausted, before asking, "Did you get something from this fight? Like a skill or something?"
He stares into space for a moment—probably checking his system. I decide to do the same.
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Name: Grant Larsen
Race: Human
Titles: Dungeon-Summoned Hero
Attributes:
* Vitality: 217
* Stamina: 253
* Mana: 6
* Strength: 72
* Agility: 93
* Intelligence: 23
Status Ailments / Debuffs:
* Bruised lung (minor): -20 stamina
* Internal bleeding/cracked bone: Right arm mobility decreased
* Twisted ankle: -5 agility
* Left shoulder: Dislocated, movement drastically decreased
Abilities:
* Minor Luck Enhancement
* Fast Recovery
* Fire Resistance
Skills:
* Powered Strike
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I look over my status—it’s bad, but not fatal. I’ll be better in a couple of days.
Monty finishes checking his and looks at me. "Been better. I’ve got some bruised ribs. Do you need help with that?" He points at my dislocated arm.
I ask, "Have you ever done it before?"
He shakes his head. "No, but I’ve had it done to me several times. I know how to do it in theory."
He tells me to relax as he lifts my arm to a 90-degree angle, then slowly rotates it. A sharp jolt of pain shoots through me as my shoulder pops back into place. The pain vanishes almost instantly, leaving only a slight numbness.
"Thanks, that feels much better. Now, let's see what's behind the minotaur's door."