Back in the dungeon, Travis stood before the last door—the infamous looming Door No. 10. Unlike all the others, Door No. 10 was at the very end of the dimly lit hall. It was massive, carved with intricate yet foreboding symbols that seemed to twist and writhe in the flickering torchlight. The tall, intimidating structure exuded a palpable menace, as though it were alive and aware of his presence.
His battered armor hung loosely on his body, barely functional. Only the metal protecting his thighs remained intact, a grim reminder of how close he’d come to death. The drapes he’d worn for additional cover had been torn to shreds, and his pouch—once filled with potions and supplies—was now useless. He dropped it to the ground with a dull thud, the sound swallowed by the suffocating silence around him.
Travis’s eyes were hollow, devoid of the spark they’d held when he first entered this dungeon. Every step here had been a fight for survival, each door forcing him to push past his limits. His body ached with exhaustion, but his mind was resolute.
'Man, I'm tired. I should do this quickly,' he thought, his hand tightening around his sword as he rested it on his shoulder.
Taking a deep breath, he approached the towering doors, half-expecting the familiar sensation of being transported to the next challenge. Instead, the doors creaked and groaned, swinging open before him with an ominous finality.
He froze, startled by the sight inside. It wasn’t another chamber or battlefield. It was a long, dimly lit tunnel, the walls rough and uneven as if they had been carved in haste. At the far end, a bright light flickered, accompanied by the distant roar of a crowd. The noise sent a chill down his spine.
Stepping cautiously forward, he glanced back just as the doors slammed shut behind him, sealing him inside. He wasn’t surprised—they always did that—but the atmosphere felt different here. The air was heavier, oppressive, as if something was waiting for him. Keeping his guard up, he moved steadily toward the light.
When he reached the tunnel’s end, his breath caught. The scene was eerily familiar—a massive coliseum stretched out before him, its sandy floor illuminated by an otherworldly glow. Surrounding him were rows upon rows of skeleton spectators, their hollow eyes gleaming as they cheered with an unsettling enthusiasm. Their bony fingers clattered together, creating a chilling cacophony.
'I guess this is the final boss,' Travis thought, his gaze shifting toward the center of the arena. There, a throne materialized from thin air, its dark stone surface jagged and crude. Seated upon it was a massive minotaur, its golden eyes glowing like molten metal.
"I am Gladia, and I’ve been waiting for you, challenger," the beast bellowed, its deep voice reverberating through the coliseum. "Now let us have the battle of our lives!"
Travis remained silent, his expression unreadable. He didn’t have the energy for banter. His grip tightened on his sword as Gladia rose from the throne, reaching for the colossal axe beside him. The minotaur towered over the arena, its muscles rippling with raw power.
With a thunderous roar, Gladia swung the axe, shattering the throne into fragments. The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the arena, kicking up a whirlwind of dust and sand. The skeletal crowd erupted in a frenzy, their cheers reaching a fever pitch.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Facing Travis, Gladia’s lips curled into a menacing smirk. "Now let us begin," he snarled, smoke billowing from his nostrils.
Travis exhaled slowly, lifting his sword.
' Alright. Here we go again,' he thought, readying himself for the fight of his life.
Travis tightened his grip on his sword, feeling the weight of exhaustion in his limbs as he stared down the minotaur. Gladia’s golden eyes burned like twin suns, locking onto him with predatory intensity. The skeleton audience roared louder, their clattering bones echoing across the coliseum as the towering beast stomped forward. Each step sent tremors through the ground, the vibrations crawling up Travis’s legs.
Gladia swung his colossal axe in a slow, deliberate arc, the sharp edge gleaming in the ethereal light. "Let us see if you can handle me, challenger," the beast growled, smoke curling from his nostrils.
Travis barely had time to process the words before the minotaur charged, closing the gap between them with alarming speed. The axe came down in a diagonal slash, aimed to cleave him in two.
Eyes wide, Travis dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the blade. The axe struck the sand where he’d been standing, creating an explosion of grit that stung his skin. He rolled to his feet, gasping for breath, but Gladia was relentless.
The minotaur spun, his axe whistling through the air in a follow-up strike. Travis raised his sword just in time to parry, the force of the blow sending a painful jolt through his arms. He staggered back, his boots sliding in the loose sand, but Gladia pressed forward, swinging the axe in wide, brutal arcs that left no room for counterattacks.
The crowd roared their approval as Travis struggled to keep up. Each swing from Gladia felt like a sledgehammer, and each block or dodge sapped more of his dwindling strength. A feint caught him off guard—Gladia lunged as if to swing from the left but twisted his massive body to strike from the right. Travis barely managed to sidestep, but the axe grazed his shoulder, tearing through the remnants of his armor and drawing a thin line of blood.
Travis hissed in pain, stumbling back. 'Damn it ' he thought, clutching his shoulder.
"Is that all you’ve got?" Gladia taunted, his deep voice rumbling like thunder. He spun the axe with ease, the weapon’s weight clearly no burden to him. "This is hardly worth my time!"
Anger flared in Travis’s chest, pushing back the fatigue. He rushed forward, ducking low as Gladia swung again. The axe passed inches above his head, and he seized the opening, slashing upward at the minotaur’s exposed flank.
His blade connected, cutting a shallow wound along Gladia’s side. The beast snarled, staggering briefly, but the injury only seemed to fuel his rage.
"You dare!" Gladia roared, swinging his axe horizontally. The speed of the attack left Travis no time to dodge, so he dropped to the ground, letting the blade pass over him. Sand sprayed into his face, blinding him for a moment, but he forced himself to roll away as Gladia’s hooves stomped dangerously close.
Blinking furiously to clear his vision, Travis scrambled to his feet, only to find Gladia already upon him. The minotaur slammed the butt of his axe into Travis’s gut, knocking the wind out of him and sending him flying backward. He hit the ground hard, skidding across the sand.
Travis coughed violently, his vision swimming as he tried to push himself up. Gladia didn’t give him the chance. The minotaur charged again, lifting his axe high for a devastating overhead strike.
With no time to rise, Travis rolled to the side, the axe embedding itself in the ground where he’d been lying. He forced himself to his knees and slashed at Gladia’s legs, hoping to cripple the beast.
The minotaur anticipated the move, stepping back just enough for the blade to miss. Gladia retaliated with a savage kick that caught Travis in the chest, sending him sprawling. His sword flew from his hand, clattering uselessly a few feet away.
The crowd erupted into cheers, their rattling bones a macabre symphony of delight.
Travis lay on the ground, gasping for air, his chest burning from the impact. Gladia loomed over him, the minotaur’s smirk returning. "Is this truly the best you can do, human?"
He raised his axe again, ready to deliver the killing blow. Desperation surged through Travis as he rolled toward his sword, his fingers closing around the hilt just as the axe came crashing down. He barely managed to block the strike, the force driving him deeper into the sand.
His arms trembled under the pressure, his muscles screaming in protest. Gladia leaned in, his golden eyes glowing brighter as he pressed the attack. "You’re nothing but a weakling!" the minotaur sneered.
Travis gritted his teeth, struggling to push back. 'I can’t keep this up much longer,' he thought, his vision blurring from the strain.
With a sudden burst of effort, he twisted his body and shoved the axe aside, using the momentum to roll away. He sprang to his feet, barely steady, and held his sword in front of him, the blade shaking slightly in his grip.
Gladia chuckled, the sound deep and mocking. "You’ve got heart, I’ll give you that," he said, wiping the blood from his earlier wound. "But heart alone won’t save you."
Travis didn’t respond. He couldn’t afford to. Every ounce of his focus was on the towering beast before him, searching for an opening, a weakness—anything that could turn the tide of the battle.
Gladia charged again, his hooves pounding against the ground like thunder. Travis braced himself, his mind racing as he prepared for the next clash.
TO BE CONTINUED