Bam.

Thud.

The blunt axe struck with the force of a battering ram. Though its edge was dulled to near uselessness, the sheer power behind the swing was enough to rip the creature’s legs clean off. Not severed, not even cut—just torn away as if its body were made of soggy paper. The detached limbs slammed into the wall with a wet splatter, leaving streaks of red blood in their wake.

The creature's ear-splitting screeches echoed through the room, blood gushing like a broken dam. Alexander smirked, the sound and sight confirming his suspicion: the damn thing had defenses softer than moldy bread.

For Alexander, this was a game against the clock. The longer he took, the more the poison spared. But for the lizard-like monstrosity clinging to survival, it was all about not getting hit again—a deadly round of cat and mouse where a single misstep spelled doom.

Seeing his first strike land with devastating success, Alexander surged forward, eager to follow up before the momentum of his swing dissipated. His axe arced toward the creature with ferocious speed, a blur of raw power—but the thing wasn’t there. It scurried up the wall with gecko-like reflexes, faster than he could track.

The missed blow threw Alexander off balance, and his forward motion carried him to the ceiling. He twisted midair, landing with a loud crack as his boots met the surface. Wasting no time, he kicked off, rocketing back toward the creature in an all-or-nothing charge, determination burning in his eyes.

Wait. Wait, wait, did he just pull that off? Like a professional kicked of the wall and attacked again in one fluid motion.

The thought brought a crooked smile to Alexander’s face. Adrenaline coursed through him as he darted toward the creature once more, his movements fluid and purposeful. he let go of his borken axe and pulled out his blade. This time, he drew his blade mid-stride, slashing with a swift, ruthless arc. The edge bit deep into the creature’s side, leaving a gaping, oozing gash that spilled dark blood onto the ground.

Alexander landed with a solid thud, crouched and poised for his next strike. But as he lunged forward to deliver another blow, he froze, a wave of revulsion washing over him.

The gash wasn’t healing—not in any way that deserved the word. Instead, the wound festered and writhed, hot blood spurting out as grotesque tumors began to swell in its place. The lumps pulsated angrily, some filling the gap like poorly mixed plaster, while others swelled to bursting before exploding in a gory spectacle of viscera.

“Ugh.” Alexander recoiled, his nose scrunching at the sickening stench wafting from the mess. He couldn’t decide if the thing was regenerating or just failing miserably at not dying. Either way, the sight churned his stomach—and fueled his resolve

If someone had shown Alexander a video of this grotesque scene just a few months ago, he would’ve retched on the spot. Now, though, there was no room for nausea—just a singular thought pounding in his mind: Strike before it healed.

Without hesitation, Alexander launched himself toward the creature again. The blade gleamed in his grip, poised for another devastating slash. But as he closed the distance, the creature did the unexpected—it simply let go.

Like a discarded puppet, it dropped from the wall, tumbling toward the ground with a sickening lack of resistance.

Alexander’s instincts took over. Twisting mid-air, he planted his feet on the ceiling, the motion fluid and precise. Muscles coiled like springs, ready to propel him downward in a crushing dive. But just as he prepared to strike, his eyes caught a flash of green—a jet of liquid spraying toward him with terrifying speed.

His body reacted before his mind could fully process the danger. Every hair on his body stood on end as he twisted his trajectory. With a grunt of effort, he redirected his momentum, legs straining as he kicked off the ceiling with all his might.

The force of his escape was so immense that faint cracks spider-webbed across the ceiling where his boots had been. He didn’t see it, but the moment he was clear, the creature’s venomous spray hit the ceiling, sizzling as it melted through the material like acid through paper.

Alexander had poured every ounce of force into his jump, pushing his body beyond its limits. The result was inevitable—his landing was a chaotic mess. He crashed to the ground, rolling forward in a flurry of motion, sending a puff of dust and debris into the air.

“Fuck!”

Alexander spat a mix of blood and frustration as he pushed himself to his feet. His shirt was torn in places, and blood oozed from a gash on his head. The pain was sharp, but it didn’t matter.

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His eyes snapped to the creature.

“Fuck.”

The words were bitter, sour on his tongue. The gash he’d inflicted had healed, and to his disgust, the hand that had been severed had regrown, thick and grotesque.

But then, something struck him—something was off.

The creature, now pale and still, stood motionless. It wasn’t charging him or even writhing in pain; it was just… there. As if it was gathering its strength—or perhaps, unable to muster any more energy after the brutal blow.

Alexander’s frustration mixed with a flicker of realization. This was his chance.

Without a moment's hesitation, Alexander went to confirm himself, He didn’t give the creature a chance to react—he leaped toward it, his voice a sharp, furious roar:

“Take this, you motherfucking ugly bitch, or whatever the hell you are!”

The creature shifted, just barely managing to dodge his attack. But to Alexander’s surprise—and twisted satisfaction—it was slower, less nimble than before. All the difference was minuscule Alexander noticed it.

It wasn’t enough to stop it completely, but its movements were sluggish, and that small victory sparked a grin on Alexander’s face.

He knew what needed to be done now.

The plan was simple: force it to heal over and over, wear it down until it couldn’t move. Until it was too weak to fight back. Alexander’s eyes narrowed with cold determination. Each strike would be a step closer to crippling it, and once that happened, he wouldn’t give it the chance to recover.

With newfound determination, Alexander launched into his assault—a blur of strikes that bordered on frenzy. Exhaustion gnawed at him, but his focus was unwavering, his mind locked onto one singular goal. But its venomous breath, nearly claimed him several times.

Each time, Alexander barely managed to dodge, his reflexes saving him by mere inches. Three times, he had been a breath away from death, each close call leaving him with a racing heart and a deeper resolve.

But there was a new danger now. The ground was littered with small poison pits, their deadly gas slowly seeping into the air, thickening the atmosphere. It was becoming harder to breathe, harder to move. The venomous air clung to him, tightening his chest with every breath.

Still, Alexander wasn’t without success. He had already landed several cuts on the creature, each strike cutting deep, though none as long or as severe as the first. Yet, despite the damage, the creature showed no signs of the wounds remaining.

It was as if the cuts were erased in an instant, the creature’s healing factor kicking in automatically, almost passively.

Why would the creature keep healing itself when its condition had deteriorated so much? Alexander couldn’t understand it. The thing was now ten times slower than when it started, and its once vibrant red hue had faded to an unsettling shade of pale, almost pinkish.

Alexander’s eyes narrowed. Another detail caught his attention—whenever the creature sprayed poison, it grew even paler. He wasn’t a biologist, but it seemed clear: using its deadliest attack took a heavy toll on its body.

It wasn’t like Alexander was faring much better. His body was sore, his limbs heavy with exhaustion, but there was no time to rest. He couldn’t afford to stop now.

Taking a deep breath, Alexander lunged forward again, despite the fatigue clawing at him. The creature seemed almost too willing to give him the opening.

As he closed the distance, the thing swiped at him with its claws, a lethal strike aimed to tear him apart. If it connected, Alexander would be sent flying, his chest crushed under the weight of the blow. He didn’t hesitate.

With a fluid motion, he ducked under the swipe and, using its exposed underarm as leverage, dashed toward its belly. His blade slashed across its soft flesh, leaving a jagged gash that spilled red blood.

As the creature wailed in agony, Alexander noticed something different this time. The usual gooey, strange tumors began to form around the gash, but they didn’t heal. Instead, they burst in violent, cursing explosions of grotesque, pulsating flesh. Each eruption sent waves of blood into the air, yet the creature’s cries continued.

And then, a twisted smile curled onto Alexander’s lips. It wasn’t regenerating like before.

Alexander didn’t waste a moment. Despite the screaming protests of his aching body, he lunged again, his blade slashing through the creature’s pale skin. The cuts weren’t as deep as he hoped, the strength behind them faltering, but they were enough—enough to make the creature bleed. Blood poured from the wounds in torrents, splattering the ground like a broken dam.

Alexander lost track of how many times he struck, his mind consumed by a singular focus. He didn’t stop. Even as his body screamed in pain, his joints aching and his heart pounding in his chest, he kept going.

He could feel it—his body was on the edge of collapse. His muscles were screaming, his heart rate a frantic drumbeat, but he couldn’t stop. Not now.

Both of them were at their limits. The air was thick with poison, suffocating and heavy, and the ground was soaked with a pool of dark red blood.

After another barrage of strikes and narrowly dodging the creature’s frenzied counterattacks, Alexander managed to make some distance between them. He hopped backward, pushing off with every last ounce of energy, and the creature seemed almost too eager to give it to him. It, too, was at its breaking point—exhausted, nearly bloodless, and barely able to stand.

After catching his breath, Alexander’s chest heaved as he clenched his fists, rage igniting within him. He lunged forward again, his yell cutting through the air. To his surprise, the creature did the same—its movements fueled by a raw, desperate fury.

For a brief moment, Alexander was caught off guard, but that hesitation quickly turned into an overwhelming surge of anger. His yell grew louder, fueled by a primal drive to end this.

As they collided, the creature swung its right paw with terrifying force, its claws tearing through the air. At the same time, it unleashed a jet of poison from its mouth. Alexander hadn’t expected it—this was the last thing he anticipated—but it didn’t matter. Dodging the swipe, Alexander dove inward, ignoring the poison entirely. The creature’s breath attack was wasted, its poison hissing harmlessly into the air.

With a primal scream, Alexander drove his blade deep into the creature’s flesh, the sharp steel sliding through its underbelly as he ran forward, using his momentum. Blood splattered, and the creature’s scream pierced the air.

As Alexander emerged from underneath, his body drenched in its blood, the creature’s life force poured out behind him. Blood erupted in a sickening fountain, and with a final shudder, its intestines slipped free from the wound, falling with a wet, sickening thud.

Exhausted beyond measure, Alexander collapsed to his knees, panting heavily. Every muscle screamed in protest. The fight had drained everything from him. But there was no time to rest—he couldn’t stay here. The poison was spreading fast, but the crystal area was far enough away that, that place was safe.

With his sword gripped like a cane, Alexander forced himself upright. His steps were slow, every movement a battle, but he kept moving. The crystal area was still a distance away, he intentionally did not fish t close to it and the creature also did not seem to go near it.

But that meant Alexander had to drag his beaten body for even longer. His every step was a struggle, each one heavier than the last. After what felt like an eternity, nearly five minutes later, he finally reached the place.

The area was bathed in a soft, ethereal light that seemed to hum with an almost palpable energy. As soon as he stepped within a certain range, Alexander felt it—a sudden jolt through his body. His muscles loosened, his heartbeat slowed to a calmer rhythm, and he could feel his body rejuvenating, the pain in his limbs easing with each passing second.

It was as if the light itself was recharging him, revitalizing his very essence. The exhaustion, the weariness, the lingering effects of poison—all of it began to fade away.