The wind rushes past Cale’s ears as he rapidly plummets towards the ground below. Desperately clinging onto the minotaur’s back, time seems to slow down around him. Two thoughts are running through his mind, “Hopefully this demonic minotaur is softer than it seems, else we’re both going to die. Why didn’t I let go sooner!”
The tightly packed horde inadvertently impedes the demonic beasts from fleeing the impact, relegating their status to that of a mattress. The minotaur extends its right arm forward, foolishly trying to prevent the impact. Those involved can only close their eyes as the inevitable approaches, and after mere seconds of freefall, they impact the ground.
Akin to a pancake, tens of demonic beasts are crushed beneath the minotaur’s enormous weight. The minotaur’s right arm is the first to reach the ground, the impact instantly shattering its bones; this, along with the ‘heroic’ sacrifice of demonic beasts, manages to absorb the brunt of the impact, mitigating any further injury to the minotaur.
Reaping the benefit from those below him, Cale experiences the least force from the impact. Unfortunately, his weaker constitution fails him as his muscles are rattled with minor injuries. The impact manages to clear a small circle in the horde of demonic beasts. The minotaur’s demonic lord aura prevents any of the beasts from approaching.
Dazed from the impact, Cale struggles to regain his senses. Underneath him, the minotaur stirs, shocking him into action. He barely manages to dislodge his daggers as the minotaur rises to its feet. A gruesome scene of mangled corpses forms the floor of their arena. Cale’s muscles scream in pain as he tries to distance himself from the minotaur.
He observes the situation, trying to calm himself, “Deep breaths, Cale. Luckily, the beasts seem to be avoiding us, so I only have to worry about the big guy. A healing spell from Mia would have been nice, right now.” A thought pops into his head, “Wait, don’t I still have that crystal…” Extracting the green crystal tucked underneath his armour, Cale crushes it in his hand.
The power stored in the crystal rushes through his body. Unfortunately, this power isn’t meant to heal, but it manages to ease the strain on the muscles as it restores his energy to peak condition. “Alright, let’s do this!” Cale shouts as he excites himself up. His twin daggers dripping with fresh blood as he prepares to engage the demonic lord.
The minotaur’s right arm dangles uselessly next to its side. It roars in a violent rage as its last shreds of intelligence are stripped away, and an insatiable bloodlust consumes its mind. Resembling a deranged beast, the minotaur, seemingly unbothered by its current condition, madly charges at Cale. The sight of the minotaur’s charge shocks Cale, but he manages to stay calm.
Akin to a deadly dance between man and beast, the two begin their clash. Utilising his superior agility, Cale weaves himself between the minotaur’s attacks, nimbly striking at its body. With no weapons and only a single arm left, the minotaur turns animalistic as it tries to bite and claw at Cale. Minutes pass, and the number of wounds on the minotaur’s body increases; the deep steel alloy in Cale’s daggers stopping the wounds from healing.
The extended brawl doesn’t allow either of them to rest, and Cale’s breaths grow heavy. His movements turn sluggish and, in a few seconds, he makes his first mistake by mistiming a dodge. The minotaur grabs his leg and throws Cale towards the ground. He rolls near the edge of the circle, the minotaur charging at him. “Why won’t it just die!” Cale screams in frustration as he rolls out of the way. The minotaur crashes into the demonic beasts around the circle’s edge, granting Cale a moment of respite.
Defending the cliff, Emily watches the fight below, and she says to herself, “You just need to hold on for a bit longer, Cale. I know you can do it. I’ll make sure Mia’s safe, so don’t worry about us.” Her gaze shifts towards the army on the horizon, and it comes to rest on the path of carnage carved by the General as he nears Cale’s position.
The minotaur extracts itself from the pile of demonic beasts. Every surface of its body is covered in blood, a testament to Cale’s diligent work. The gruesome sigh would traumatise normal adventurers, but Cale has grown numb to it. The minotaur staggers as it prepares to charge again, its endless resilience finally showing some cracks.
Exhausted, Cale struggles to lifts his two daggers. The minotaur roars again, but a louder shout drowns it out, “Get out of my way!” On the edge of the circle, a group of demonic beasts are sundered at the waist. Behind them, the General, covered in blood, emerges. His gaze is locked on the wounded minotaur, a sly grin forming on his face.
“I finally found you, ha-ha. Did you have a nice tumble down the hill? Come, let me ease your pain with my sword,” the General says, directing his gaze towards Cale. “Can you still fight?” he asks, and Cale nods in response, “Good, now the fun starts!” The General confidently approaches the minotaur and announces, “I should thank you, beast. My strength had stagnated for tens of years but slaughtering your horde has granted me a breakthrough. I firmly believe in repaying favours, so let me grant you the gift of death!”
The minotaur punches forward, but the General sidesteps the attack. Effortlessly wielding his greatsword, the General retaliates, carving a deep gash in the minotaur’s chest. Cale stares in awe, “I never knew the General was so strong. Maybe, I should have listened more when he trained us.” The General glances towards Cale and asks, “Are you going to help, or just stand there and look pretty?”
“Sorry,” Cale weakly retorts as he joins the fight. Any semblance of advantage the minotaur previously had, is crushed under the combined might of Cale and the General. Countless wounds are carved on the minotaur’s body, and its vitality and stamina reach their limits. Cale parries an attack, breaking the minotaur’s guard. Seizing the opportunity, the General, with a clean slice, dismembers the minotaur’s remaining arm.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
Only a shell of its former might, the minotaur staggers around the circle as it struggles to remain upright. The General locks eyes with Cale and silently nods, conveying a silent message. Cale nod in confirmation. He tightens the grip on his daggers as he runs towards the minotaur. He leaps onto the minotaur’s chest, knocking it to the ground and plunging a blade in each of its eyes, striking its brain. The minotaur is dead before it even reaches the floor.
A strange silence settles on the surrounding horde. Their ranks are thrown into disarray with the death of the demonic lord. Their assault on the small hill stops as a seemingly more important target has presented itself. The demonic beasts’ primal instincts take over as their focus shifts towards Cale and the General.
Cale and the General stand back to back as the perimeter of their arena shrinks. Around them, the sea of demonic beasts closes in, like a noose tightening around their necks. The General, still beaming a confident smile, asks Cale behind him, “Ready for round two, kid?” Between his haggard breaths, Cale struggles to reply, “Need… Rest.”
The General lifts his greatsword and says, “I’m sorry, kid, but we don’t have that luxury.” Cale grunts as he raises his two daggers, his muscles are aching in protest. He scrapes together the last of his remaining energy, preparing to make his final stand. “What’s that?” Cale wonders as a glint in the sky catches his eye. On the ground, next to his feet, a green crystal lands with a dull thud.
Cale is momentarily stunned as he picks up the crystal. He glances towards the hilltop, a grateful smile on his face, “I guess I owe you one, Emily.” He crushes the crystal with his hand, the power inside restoring his energy to peak condition. On the hilltop, Emily watches in suspense. “Just hold on for a bit longer,” she pleads.
Tens of demonic beasts leap towards the duo, their patience reaching its limit. Reminiscent of a meatgrinder, countless demonic beasts are eviscerated by their blades. Cale’s new armour becomes invaluable as it dutifully protects his body. Piles of bones are scattered around his feet as the demonic beasts melt from his daggers.
The General sighs in wonder as he glances towards Cale, “I should get me one of those.” The General decapitates another demonic beast and says in a proud tone, “Good work, kid. Now it’s time for those slackers to do their part.” “Who?” Cale asks in confusion. In response, the General directs his gaze towards the fortress’ side of the battlefield.
A new chant rises through the roars of demonic beasts, drowning out any who defy it, “You are not alone!” The Slaughter that befell the army after the King’s failed offensive culled the weak and inferior soldiers. Their overconfidence became cowardice. Their cowardice became despair. Their despair became hope. Unified and revitalised, the army has completed its metamorphosis and, in their wake, only retribution remains.
No fear is found in the eyes of the marching soldiers, only pity. Their aura has become one and their purpose unified. The disorganised horde of demonic beasts pales in comparison. The horde’s hollow roars are viciously silenced as the formations of soldiers crash into the front lines. Slaughter ensues as the two sides begin their battle.
“Right on time,” the General says, his face radiating with pride, “We better not keep them waiting. Follow me, kid.” Without waiting for Cale to respond, the General leaps into the hoard of demonic beasts. Cale shakes his head in disbelief as he follows along, helping the General carve a path towards the approaching army.
In the middle of the battlefield, they meet, and with the General taking charge, a new definition of massacre takes shape. Fighting prominently beside the General, Cale’s status dramatically climbs in the eyes of the soldiers. The demonic beasts’ number advantage becomes moot as they are slaughtered. Although some soldiers are injured, shockingly none are killed.
With obsessive diligence, the army exterminates the horde of demonic beasts, clearing out those surrounding the cliff and working their way up the hill’s backside slope. As they climb the hill, the leading soldiers’ eyes widen in shock. A mound, multiple meters tall and wide, made entirely from charred demonic beast corpses, blocks their path.
“Clear the way!” the General commands. Fortunately, the battle has dulled the soldiers’ sense of smell. Hundreds of charred corpses are tossed down the hillside, systematically clearing the path forward. Finally, near the top of the hill, they are greeted with Eric’s holy shield. “Stay back, beasts!” Eric yells as he braces for impact, the extreme fatigue from the battle clouding his mind.
Cale steps forward and says in a calming tone, “It’s alright, Eric. The battle’s over, we won. You can stop fighting.” Eric rapidly blinks his eyes as he tries to clear his hazy vision. “Is… is it really over?” he asks hesitantly, seemingly unable to believe such a scenario. The General steps forward and says, “You’ve done well, kid. You can stand down.”
The General’s commanding tone manages to calm Eric. His shield dissipates as he collapses to his knees. His mind is swamped with a flood of emotions. Cale approaches Eric and gently pats him on his back, “You’ve done well, Eric. I’m proud.” Eric silently begins to sob, unable to suppress his trauma from the battle.
Atop the hill, Emily watches the army approach, a smile adorns her face. She crouches down next to Mia and says, “We’ve won, Mia. You can stop the spell.” Mia weakly nods in response as she dissipates the holy shield surrounding the fortress. The moment Mia stops channelling the pearl’s power, she instantly blacks out.
Emily catches her before she falls to the ground, making sure to place the pearl back into Mia’s backpack. The General approaches them, his gaze filled with reverence and concern. Noticing this, Emily explains, “She’s just tired, I’m sure she’ll be fine after some rest. I’ll take care of her, so don’t worry” Relieved, the General silently nods and turns towards his troops.
He clears his throat and commands, “Form up and return to the fortress. We may have won the battle, but we will only celebrate after winning the war. Tonight, we’ll give our saviours the recognition they deserve. Now, march!” With Emily carrying Mia, the heroes walk alongside the General. Behind them, the army follows along as they return to the fortress.
Still atop the hill, savouring the image of the departing army, Centum make a final addition to this section of the heroes’ tale, “They were summoned to be heroes, but their identity was disregarded. They’ve never faltered in their purpose, and through their actions, they’ve truly earned the right to be called heroes.”