Alexander’s breath hitched, his chest heaving as he stared down at his trembling hands. His fingers throbbed, swollen and red, but his fury was far from spent. With a guttural roar, he hefted his axe and brought it down again. THUD! The vibration shot up his arms, but he ignored it. Again. THUD! Sweat stung his eyes, but he didn’t care. Again. And again. Each swing a declaration of rage, each impact a cry of defiance. He wasn’t counting anymore. Three swings, five—it didn’t matter. What mattered was this wall would fall.

His arms screamed in protest, and his grip faltered. The axe slipped from his fingers, and he stumbled back, collapsing onto the cavern floor with a grunt. His breath came in ragged gasps as he sat there, defeated. His head fell back, and he blinked up at the ceiling, willing the disappointment away.

Then it happened.

Crack.

The sound echoed through the cavern like a whisper from fate itself. Alexander’s heart leaped as his eyes snapped to the wall. There, right along the lines of his earlier attacks, a crack was widening. It wasn’t just a small fracture—it grew. Jagged and rebellious, the fissure crept upward, splitting the stone like a hungry beast carving its way free.

Joy surged through him, wild and invigorating. The crack expanded, opening just enough for him to slip through. No grand exit, but Alexander wasn’t picky. He’d take whatever escape he could get.

Gritting his teeth, he staggered to his feet. His body screamed for rest, but he had none to give. With a grunt of determination, he raised his axe again, driving its blade into the fracture. Sparks flew. The cavern rang with the relentless clang of steel on stone. He hacked away like a man possessed, his blows fueled by desperation and hope. Eight minutes—eight grueling, sweat-soaked minutes—of relentless effort.

By the end, Alexander’s arms felt like lead. His hands were blistered and raw, and his legs barely held him up. His chest rose and fell in rapid bursts, his lungs burning. His once-bright tunic clung to his body, darkened with sweat and grime. But as he stood there, panting and aching, he smiled. The crack was now more than just a line. It was an opening.

With a shaky breath, Alexander pressed forward, wedging himself into the fissure. He gave the wall one final shove with his boot—and stumbled through. He emerged into a different cavern, his body sliding against the cool stone as he caught himself. The space beyond was vast and eerily silent, cloaked in a suffocating darkness. His eyes adjusted quickly, but the oppressive black seemed alive, thick and all-encompassing.

Relief flooded him. He was out. Finally, out.

But his relief was short-lived. Way too short lived, as in the literal next moment, he bent his body backward out of pure reflex as a form from the dark, one of the mownworm , lunged at him.

Of course, the normal ones always bolted at the mere sight of him, their wormlike bodies slithering away into the shadows. But this one? It stood its ground. Of course an armored brute, its exoskeleton gleaming faintly in the dim light. Alexander barely had time to tighten his grip on his axe before movement flickered at the edge of his vision.

Instinct kicked in. He threw himself back at an awkward angle, his boots skidding across the rocky ground as another mownworm lunged from the darkness. Its maw snapped shut just where his torso had been moments before, its fetid breath brushing against his skin.

Close. Too close.

The second creature collided headlong into the first with a wet, sickening thud, their tangled forms crashing to the ground in a writhing heap. Alexander wasted no time. He hit the ground in a crouch, scanning the cavern, his pulse pounding in his ears. His eyes darted through the suffocating blackness, searching for any more of the creatures lurking in the shadows.

Nothing. For now, fortunately.

But he wasn’t in the clear. Far from it. The oppressive darkness swallowed everything around him, leaving him nearly blind. His only guide was the faint, flickering light coming from the jagged hole he’d carved in the wall behind him. Without hesitation, he moved closer to it, keeping the light at his back while his eyes darted between the shadows. Every second felt like a lifetime, every breath a gamble.

A sharp hiss echoed from the dark as one of the mownworm charged, its grotesque form unfurling with terrifying speed. Alexander twisted to the side, narrowly dodging the creature’s snapping jaws. The moment it passed, he swung his axe in a wide arc, channeling every ounce of strength into the blow.

BANG!

The axe struck the creature’s side with a deafening impact, and the force sent it hurtling into the cavern wall. It slammed against the stone with a bone-rattling crunch, its armored scales cracking under the impact. Alexander could hear the splintering of its shell as fragments shattered away, a slick trail of dark, viscous blood oozing from the fractures.

He stepped back, breathing heavily, his eyes locked on the creature. That should’ve been enough, he thought, but the mownworm twitched, its segmented body writhing as it fought to rise. Alexander’s gaze shifted to his axe, and his heart sank.

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

The blade was dull. The once-sharp edge that had cleaved through enemies with ease was now a blunted wreck, the result of hacking through solid rock. His swing had the power, with his recently dumbed points on the strength state. But not the cutting edge. The axe wasn’t slicing anymore—it was just battering.

Fantastic. His grip tightened on the axe witch was now more like a heavy handed wired looking hammer or club.

Before Alexander could dwell on the agony of his ruined weapon—an expensive tool now as useless as his hopes of escape—another shape surged from the darkness. He didn’t have time to curse his luck or mourn the money he’d wasted, oh the money he wasted, and that hurt him more. The creature lunged at him,

In that single moment, fate seemed to take pity on him. As the creature lunged toward him, Alexander swung with every ounce of strength he had left. The dull, battered edge of his axe struck the creature’s skull with a sickening thud. A spray of dark, foul blood burst from the wound, splattering across the walls as the creature was thrown backward. Its head was left with a deep, jagged wound, blood oozing from every crack and hole, but it didn’t die. It didn’t collapse.

He staggered back, vision blurry, body trembling like a leaf in the wind. His biceps burned with a fire so intense he was sure they were about to tear from their sockets. Alexander’s chest heaved with each desperate breath, sweat pouring down his face, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t afford to. The fight wasn’t over.

Gritting his teeth, Alexander backed away toward the hole he’d crawled through earlier, his muscles spagoming in protest. His body felt like it was on the verge of collapse, and he knew he couldn’t keep this up for much longer. With a grimace, he made his choice—no more unnecessary risks. He had to fight smart, not hard. And smart meant isolating his enemies.

He retreated into the narrow makeshift tunnel, the cramped space feeling like a strange, temporary sanctuary. Here, at least, he had the advantage. He had the room to move, to maneuver, and these overgrown caterpillar didn’t. If they followed him, he could handle them one at a time—at least, that’s what he hoped.

And follow him they did. The faint skittering of legs and the slithering of slick bodies confirmed that his plan was working. His heart pounded, adrenaline surging as the creature’s rancid scent grew stronger, but Alexander was unbothered. In the narrow space, he had the upper hand. He wasn’t a massive brute like those writhing horrors—he was nimble, quick. He could dance around them, exploit their sluggishness in the confined space.

The first one lunged, its gaping maw snapping shut just inches from Alexander’s head. He stepped back with pure insect, despite the protest of his every fucking mussel, and the creature’s jaws clacked shut on empty air. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. He quickly repositioned, taking a few steps back to get into stance, his axe raised high. It was as if he was going to unleash a devastating skill.

His body screamed for rest, for the mercy of a break, but Alexander pushed through the pain. His grip tightened on the axe’s hilt. His muscles groaned under the effort, but he ignored it. He wasn’t about to back down now.

But sadly, he did not know one. Well, come to think of it, would a skill even work with his cultivation method?

You could not learn every skill you wanted. It had to go hand in hand or at least had to synchronize—or let’s just say support—your cultivation method for usage. And considering Alexander was using something that was not even considered Qi in the normal sense, and he was not even cultivation in the normal sense, he was unsure what he could do.

The creature was close now, its rancid breath hot against his skin. Alexander’s muscles tensed as he dropped into a stance, his axe raised like a celestial hammer. With a fierce grunt, he brought the axe down—THWACK—a blow of such raw power that it felt as though the heavens themselves had struck. The axe cleaved through the creature’s skull with a sickening crunch, caving it in. Blood and viscous matter began oozing from the cracks in its head, spilling down in sickening streams. The creature let out a tortured, guttural screech as it twisted in pain, its massive body thrashing around in the narrow cave, trying to escape the agony of death.

Pain shot through Alexander’s arms like wildfire, every muscle screaming in protest. His hands were raw, fingers burning from the relentless strikes, but the damn creature still hadn’t gone down. What the hell? He was sure that last blow had been enough to finish it. The impact had rattled his whole body, and the way the mownworm had recoiled—there had to be enough force behind it to end this.

But no. It wasn’t dead.

With a growl of frustration, Alexander swung his axe back—more like a hammer now, its weight unbearable—and slammed it down on the creature’s head once more. THUD! He gritted his teeth as his body screamed in agony. Again. Another strike. THUD! His vision blurred from the pain, but he didn’t stop. Not yet. THUD! The vibrations from each hit racked his bones, and still, the thing moved, thrashing violently in the tight tunnel. It was like trying to kill something that refused to die, its death throes only growing more furious.

And then, Alexander heard it—the shrill screech of the mownworm as it thrashed again, this time in desperation. It was thrashing so violently that the entire tunnel seemed to shake, the rock walls groaning in protest.

Alexander’s stomach twisted with dread. This wasn’t good. Not good at all. The walls were narrow, barely wide enough for the creature to squirm through, and now another one—another damn mownworm —was trying to force its way in from the other end.

The ground beneath Alexander’s boots trembled with each violent movement of the first mownworm The tunnel was already unstable—each swing of his axe sending another shudder through the rock. It was only a matter of time before the whole damn thing collapsed.

“Fuck!” The curse escaped him without thought, his frustration boiling over. His mind raced as he tried to assess the situation. There was no way he was going back. Not to that poison-laden cavern—hell no. That was a death sentence in itself. But even as that thought crossed his mind, reality slammed into him. He couldn’t stay here either. Not with two of these monsters now in the tunnel.

He couldn’t make another passage. Not with his axe—his weapon was little more than a half-swinging hammer now, too battered to do much else. And who the hell could say if any tunnel he dug would be any safer than this one? There was no time to risk that kind of uncertainty. The walls were shaking. The creatures were closing in. The whole situation was falling apart—and fast.

Time was running out.

So Alexander did what he could. He took a leap of faith as he ran forward, disregarding everything, as he attempted to escape the cavern before it caved in on itself.

From the other side, another one that Alexander sent flying with a stick before, tried to enter, but suddenly it felt a pain, a deep point in its body, and as it looked, it saw its own blood pouring, no spewing out. But before its simple mind could process what was happening, it started feeling multiple pains one after another.

And suddenly, its whole body was on fire, or at least that’s what it felt like. And as it looked back, it saw the puny creature that attacked it. It was battered, and bloodied, and panting. It knew it could eat it if it wanted, but suddenly it saw its vision going blurry and then black.

As soon as Alexander got out of the tunnel, he did not wait a single second as he dropped his big, blunt axe and, taking out his sword, he thrust it right in between the two plates of the another creature that was trying to get in.

But he did not stop. As soon as it slid in, he took it out and stabbed another area, then another and another, and this continued. Continued for as long as he could, and after the 7th consecutive stab, Alexander felt like his body turned stiff as it simply refused to move.

But it made him happy to see the thing was bleeding all over, but that all vanished as it maliciously looked at him in the next moment. But luckily for him, it killed off in the next moment. And almost like a realm, simultaneously, the makeshift tunnel caved in on the another, trapping the mownworm

Alexander sighed in relief as he calmed down. Among the two, none of them was dead. The one stuck in the tunnel would die soon, but this one was failing out of blood loss. How long it would be alive, Alexander did not know and frankly did not care, as his body was simply banged up.

Because even though he made it out of the tunnel, he was not exactly unharmed. More than once, the thrashing body of the creature bashed into him, slamming him into the walls, but somehow, he made it out.

At this point, he felt like his whole body was about to give up, as his vision blurred. So he decided to do something he really did not want to.