Travis walked out of the dungeon, every step heavier than the last. His limbs ached, his breath came in ragged gasps, and his vision blurred from sheer exhaustion. Yet, as he passed through the towering dungeon gates, a faint smile played on his lips. He looked down at the sword in his hand—scratched and battered, but still intact. That alone was enough to lift his spirits.
His armor, however, was a different story—or rather, it wasn’t a story at all anymore. The chest plate had been completely shattered during the final clash, leaving only fragments behind. His pauldrons were long gone, and the once-sturdy greaves had been torn to useless scraps. All that remained were the tattered clothes beneath, dirt-streaked and soaked with sweat and blood. He looked like a survivor, barely clinging to the idea of protection, but he didn’t care. The fact that he was still breathing trumped everything else.
As Travis trudged into the town, the eerie silence immediately unsettled him. This wasn’t the usual lively buzz of merchants calling out their wares or townsfolk bustling about. There were no people, no distant laughter, no clinking of tankards from the tavern. Only silence.
His brow furrowed. Something was wrong.
Opening his senses, Travis stilled himself, and the faint sound of distant chaos reached his ears. A rumble, low and rhythmic, like thunder. He tilted his head, focusing harder. The sound grew louder—a cacophony of roars, screams, and the unmistakable clash of steel.
"What the hell is going on?" he muttered under his breath, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten.
Curiosity mixed with dread, and Travis shrugged off his weariness, heading toward the source of the commotion. Each step brought him closer to the town’s gates, and the faint rumble became a deafening roar. The sound of battle filled the air—terrifying and chaotic. Screams of pain and defiance intertwined with the guttural growls of monstrous voices.
Travis rounded a corner, and his heart sank.
From the gates, he saw it—a battlefield. Massive ogres stormed the area just beyond the town, their hulking forms towering over the adventurers who desperately fought to hold the line. The beasts wielded crude but devastating weapons: spiked clubs, jagged axes, and even massive boulders they hurled with bone-shaking force.
The adventurers were struggling. A mage was overwhelmed as a hulking ogre broke through her fiery defenses, crushing her underfoot. A spearman lunged at one of the beasts, his weapon piercing its thigh, only for a second ogre to swing a mace into his side, sending him flying like a broken doll.
"How did this happen" Travis whispered, his eyes wide with shock.
He watched helplessly as another adventurer—a young man clutching a short sword—charged at an ogre, only to be grabbed mid-strike. The beast lifted him effortlessly, squeezing the life from him before tossing his limp body aside like trash.
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Travis gripped his sword tighter, his knuckles whitening. His exhaustion seemed to vanish as adrenaline surged through his veins.
"How did it get this bad?" he muttered, stepping forward.
Logan, Caleb, and Jacob were fighting desperately in the fray. Logan’s greatsword flashed as he swung at an ogre’s leg, forcing it to stumble, while Caleb darted around another, slashing at its knees. Jacob’s arrows flew in quick succession, though they barely seemed to slow the monstrous tide.
The silver-haired mage stood nearby, frost swirling around her as she sent ice shards into the ogres’ ranks. Her expression was fierce, but Travis could see the weariness in her movements.
And still, the ogres pressed on, their sheer numbers threatening to crush the adventurers entirely.
Travis stepped through the gates, his sword hanging loosely in his grip. The sight before him was pure chaos—adventurers falling left and right, their screams drowned by the deafening roars of the ogres. The massive creatures towered over the battlefield, their crude weapons smashing through shields, bodies, and even the earth itself.
He didn’t hesitate. His body moved before his mind caught up, exhaustion forgotten as a sharp clarity took hold.
In a blur, Travis dashed forward, faster than any human had a right to move. The first ogre didn’t even see him coming. One moment it was raising its club to crush an adventurer, the next its arm fell to the ground, severed at the shoulder. The ogre let out a half-formed roar before Travis’s blade slashed through its throat, silencing it permanently.
The next ogre turned toward the sound, but all it saw was a flash of steel. Travis’s sword tore through its side in a single, precise motion, cutting through thick muscle and bone like paper. The beast staggered, clutching at the gaping wound, but before it could fall, Travis was already gone, a streak of motion tearing through the battlefield.
An ogre swung its spiked mace downward, aiming to flatten him. Travis sidestepped effortlessly, the weapon slamming into the ground with a thunderous crash. Using the ogre’s lowered position, he leaped onto its arm and drove his sword through its skull, the blade exiting cleanly out the back.
By the time the ogre’s body collapsed, he was already moving to the next target.
The ogres tried to regroup, but they couldn’t react fast enough. One raised its axe, attempting to shield itself, but Travis spun low, his sword slicing through its legs. The beast toppled with a deafening thud, and Travis finished it with a clean strike to the neck, severing its head in a spray of blackened blood.
Another ogre lunged at him, swinging its massive fists wildly. Travis ducked under the first swing, sidestepped the second, and retaliated with a flurry of slashes. His blade struck with surgical precision, carving through joints and vital points. The ogre’s body fell apart before it even realized it was dead.
The battlefield was a blur of motion and chaos, but to Travis, everything was clear. He danced between the massive creatures, his movements impossibly fast, his strikes impossibly sharp. Every swing of his sword was deadly, every step perfectly placed.
The remaining ogres began to hesitate, their once-mighty roars fading into uncertainty. They turned to face him, but Travis was already in their midst. He moved like a storm, his blade flashing like lightning as he cut down one ogre after another.
"Is that fear I see?" Travis muttered, his voice low and cold.
The final group of ogres, sensing their end, raised their weapons, ready to charge. But Travis didn’t give them the chance.
He planted his feet firmly, his sword glowing faintly with a silvery light. The air around him grew sharp, heavy with tension as he whispered the name of his ability.
"Cut."
A deafening silence followed, as though the entire battlefield had taken a collective breath. Then, in an instant, the light from his sword exploded outward in a single, impossibly sharp arc.
The wave of energy surged through the ogres, slicing through their bodies as though they were made of air. The beasts froze in place, their massive forms quivering as thin, clean lines appeared across their torsos.
And then they fell. One by one, the ogres collapsed, their bodies cleaved in two, their weapons falling uselessly to the ground.
Travis lowered his sword, the glow fading as the last of the ogres hit the dirt. The battlefield was silent now, save for the faint groans of the injured and the distant crackling of flames. He took a deep breath, his body finally remembering the exhaustion he had pushed aside.
"That should do it," he murmured, glancing at the horizon. There were no more enemies left to face.
TO BE CONTINUED