He was surrounded in a cloud of smoke, coaxing him to cough as the air he breathed was laced with embers and dust. As he questioned the state of the beast that took the full-force of the supercharged gemstones, the sound of metal scraping met his ears.
It was a nauseating revelation, witnessing the smoke wave around as something pushed it from within; a giant figure lifted itself, looming a daunting silhouette through the mixture of ash and frost.
Like a behemoth of steel, it rose again, exuding a sharp breath from its nostrils that pushed away the billowing smoke.
‘...You’re kidding…’ He thought, feeling his stomach drop.
It was nearly unscathed; the armored Minotaur only wore a few burns and scratches on the parts of its body uncovered by its metal exoskeleton, though only looked more angered than wounded.
Though he felt confused at first as to how the amplified explosion hardly had any effect even with a direct hit, he quickly remembered where he stood.
‘This is the eleventh floor—the threshold where those that aren’t blessed cannot pass. I shouldn’t apply logic to it,’ he realized.
As he stood there, looking up at the personification of strength itself that loomed over him like an augury of death, he found himself deprived of strength. He couldn’t even feel the burning sensation clinging to his arm, nor the aching throughout his bones as blood dripped from his nostril. What he did feel was the helplessness that gripped his body; a reminder of everything he lacked.
‘I’m not special. I don’t have great strength like some, or magical talent like others. I don’t have the support of one of the Divine. In the Tower of Yggdrasil, I’m a nobody,’ he believed.
Still, even as he lamented his hubris by venturing to the eleventh floor, he found himself remembering the last encounter he had before leaving that day. The gift his uncle had given him, and the words he was burdened by; a belief in himself that didn’t allow him to simply lay down and accept his fate.
‘That’s right. Even if it breaks my bones and tears my flesh, it’s better than dying. Don’t be scared of the pain now–and burst,’ he reminded himself.
As he looked up at the mountainous hammer that the minotaur had hoisted into the air in preparation of flattening him, he once more flexed his aching body.
“Levin!” He screamed, pushing his throat as it felt as if it were tearing.
It was a rush of adrenaline he found himself having trouble adjusting to each time, as though his body awakened as if shocked by electricity. The warmth of it shot through his body, from head-to-toe, causing his heartbeat to triple in that short time frame.
‘Focus it in your legs–like the first time!’ He urged himself.
As the colossal hammer descended, the instinctual reflex to move out of the way condensed the heightening surge to the young man’s legs. It felt as though a single jump would spring him atop a mountain, or a single step guiding him across a valley–though neither were his goal.
‘--Go!’ He commanded his body.
Before he could be flattened by the brutal monster’s weapon, he crouched down before leaning back and kicking both of his feet off of the ground. It was as if an explosion of wind pushed off of his feet, propelling him backwards rapidly through the corridor behind him.
“Ghhn–!” He immediately winced, feeling the bones within his legs cracking as his flesh bruised.
It was anything but a graceful usage of the magecraft, though it put distance between himself and the titanic beast. As he landed harshly, finding his back slamming against the wall at the end of the black steel corridor, he found that the minotaur wasn’t wasn’t wasting any time in pursuing him.
“Ruagh–!” It roared as its thunderous steps echoed through the frost-laden dungeon, narrowly fitting its burly shoulders through the corridor as it ducked its head.
Bastian quickly picked himself up in an attempt to flee, though found his legs buckling as he dropped back down, wincing, “Nrgh…!”
‘Shit…! My legs, it feels like my bones are fractured—it doesn’t matter. I have to keep moving—now!’ He forced himself.
There were two passages on either side of him, leaving him to do a simple coin flip of left or right with no time to make a choice.
Ducking into the room to his left, he could feel vibrations humming against the soles of his boots, originating from the stalking beast’s stomps.
It was a constant reminder of the terror that loomed; those dungeon-quaking steps that shook the walls as if every moment, explosions rang through the halls.
He found himself in an unexplored room of the frostbitten dungeon, with cold chains dangling from the ceiling with broken, spiked pillars connecting from the floor.
The chains held onto something; a nightmarish decor for the remote dungeon.
“…Hold on…” Bastian mumbled in disbelief, looking up as he spun in a circle, seeing what hung from the iced bindings.
It was a horrific sight; from the iced chains were the frozen corpses of the unfortunate adventurers who tried conquering the dungeon. He wasn’t oblivious to the horrors that were housed in the Tower, having seen plenty of unfortunate adventurers in his own expeditions, but this was different.
There wasn’t any time to be frozen by the scenery of death, as the mighty stomps grew closer by the second.
Quickly looking around, he didn’t see any other pathways, leaving him in a dead end.
‘I need to find somewhere to hide—maybe I can slip by it,’ he thought.
There wasn’t any shortage of veils within the chamber of frozen bodies; the subtly swinging chains and the ice-laden corpses acted as cover. He crouched behind one of the black steel pillars, on the end of the room farthest from its entrance.
“…Brrr…” His teeth chattered as the coldness was at its strongest it seemed.
STOMP. STOMP. STOMP.
It approached; closer and closer, with the rumbling becoming more intense as it neared.
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As he kept himself tucked safely behind the pillar while peeking around it, he kept one hand ready around his cowl. The burned hand of his retrieved another gemstone from his belt, this time a snow-white one that he gripped tightly.
‘Come on,’ he thought, awaiting his moment.
Every hair on his body stood up, his senses more sharpened than ever; the rapid beating of his heart and the boiling adrenaline flooding his veins—he was ready.
A final stomp descended before the sight of a daunting physique came into his view. A breath of steam exuded from it, as its set of black armor made it appear like a vengeful shadow. The freakish bull pressed into the entrance to the room; its frightening frame squeezed through the doorway, seeming to push the steel apart to make room for itself.
‘Alright–let’s do this,’ he planned.
Once more, he crushed the gemstone in his hand as he allowed the magecraft etched onto his skin to burn with life. Activating it again felt as though he was pushing his body to the brink, as the mana that flourished through his veins felt as though his bones in his arm would snap just from the simple process.
‘One more time–I can endure that much, right?!’ He thought.
It felt as though his body was trying to restrain itself from invoking the magecraft’s true name as he opened his mouth, feeling a lump in his throat before forcing it out, “--Levin!”
He felt the heat of the electrifying aura transfer from his skin to the stone he held, causing it to vibrate and shudder violently. It was ready; he was ready.
Stepping out from behind the pillar, his eyes met with the minotaur’s for that brief second as he put all of his strength before throwing the supercharged stone in the beast’s direction.
As it spun through the air, the snow-white jewel cracked and vibrated before bursting in front of the colossus’ face. The adventurer shut his eyes, looking down as he ran straight in the direction of the beast at the same time.
FLASH
The release of the supercharged gemstone caused a “bang” to echo through the room; as if peering into the heart of a burning star, a light brighter than any other, blinding than any other, attacked the sight of the minotaur.
Blinded, the minotaur stumbled, its jaw hanging agape as its eyes were flooded by the burst of light.
The young man continued his blind run, keeping his eyes shut as he trusted his memory of the chamber. He could hear the angered murmurs of the horned beast and its enraged stomps beside him, vibrating through the metal floor as he charged between its legs.
As he ran with every ounce of strength he had, the adrenaline that surged through his body wasn’t enough to suppress the aching of his muscles and bones, though the fear of the minotaur’s revenge was enough to keep him moving.
Thunderous rumbling took hold of the dungeon as angered roars bellowed like proclamations of doom, looming behind the fleeing adventurer. The constant shaking caused the young man to stumble as he sprinted through the corridor, not daring to look back as the sounds of stomps and thrashes echoed against the walls.
It was the opposite of the cautious way he preferred to tackle dungeons; his heart throbbed in his chest, beating at the same pace his boots rapidly tapped against the metal floor. The explosive roars of the man-hunting monster came from behind, brushing against his back like a foul wind as he sprinted through the corridor, arriving in the chamber that once held the crystal.
‘Keep moving–!’ He told himself.
Though his body ached, it wasn’t something he was going to let himself stop over as he leapt from the top of the staircase, arriving in the center of the icy room. Just as his boots left the ground, the walls behind him were burst through as the burly shoulders of the minotaur crushed through the steel as if it were brittle glass.
A rainfall of metal chunks flew across the chamber; before the young man could land on his feet, a piece of the debris struck him in his shoulder, causing him to lose his balance as he flipped straight onto his back.
“Ghh–” He winced.
On his back, he looked up, seeing the world upside down momentarily as the sight of the black-armored colossus sent a chill through his skeleton.
For some reason, past the surface fear that was present, there was another emotion that thrived inside of him: excitement. It was a life-or-death gambit, though the challenge of it was fresh; he felt anew despite his worn body as he jumped to his feet.
Behind him, the enraged minotaur chased as it stomped its gargantuan hooves, wildly swinging its hammer as it crushed everything in its path.
Bastian looked up, witnessing the boulder of steel swallow his view of the ceiling. As it descended with brutal grace, he flipped himself to the side at the last second. Even evading it, the force wasn't escaped as the impact against the steel sent a vibration that rang his skeleton like a bell.
“...Ueugh…”
He waved his arms, nearly falling down as his knees buckled and his legs shook; his brain bounced around his skull with his vision blurring for that prolonged moment. No help came from the unavoidable fact that his body was worn, and his brain exhausted from his continuous usage of magecraft.
Still, by some miracle, perhaps the sharpness of the frost around him, the way the vibrations shook his skeleton down to the marrow of his bone, or perhaps a faint whisper of wind against his ears, he found his balance.
As he sprinted forward again, he glanced over his shoulder at the sight of a black mass hurling towards him–it was the hoof of the giant beast. It took everything in him to do so, but he bent his knees before jumping upward, managing to evade the bone-crushing hoof by perhaps a hair as he flipped.
A single misstep would lead to death; that much was crystal clear to him. At the same time, he couldn’t be afraid to take risks–if he didn’t, he didn’t stand a chance of escaping the nimble monster. As he landed on his feet, he immediately was forced to lean back until his stomach faced the ceiling; an enormous wind swept above him as the boulder of steel had narrowly been avoided.
“--Ngh!” He let out, catching himself before he could fall backward as he shot back up, bursting forward into another full-force sprint.
It felt as though he was running a marathon, with the corridor leading outside of the frostbitten dungeon seeming farther out of reach as his breathing became more difficult and his bones ached. As the mountainous hooves slammed down directly behind him, nipping at his heels with their titanic pressure, he found himself bounced upward by the downfall of the beast’s weight.
Like a rabbit being chased by a fox, it wasn’t a fight that seemed fair in the least; the power wielded by the muscular, colossal body of the minotaur might as well make the adventurer a fleeing hare.
Still–
‘One more–I can do it one more time before my arm breaks!’ He realized as he was still in the air, reaching behind his back into one of his pouches.
He landed harshly against the ground, rolling across the cold steel as the hastened stomps of the minotaur closed in; its horns scraped against the ceiling as steam exuded from its flared nostrils, honing its beady eyes on the adventurer.
The gigantic hammer was reeled back, the black-clad monstrosity exhaled again as it prepared to crush the trespasser.
Bastian didn’t hold any panic on his expression, only breathing out unevenly as he pulled out an emerald gemstone, holding it up high.
‘I can fight back, too–I might not be able to slay you just yet, but one day–I’ll come back for you, that’s a promise,’ he thought.
Once more, he squeezed the magic-infused gemstone as he summoned the bound magecraft on his arm, “Levin–!”
The invocation was followed by a spurt of slick crimson that streamed from his nostril, running over his lip; the toll of the repeated usages had gripped him, not just externally as he felt his own brain shuddering within his skull.
Yet, as the minotaur opted to swing its brutish weapon, the young man flung the charged stone forth. It erupted in midair, breaking away its form as a verdant light expanded, giving birth to a violent manifestation of untamed roots. Limbs of bark stretched in every direction towards the massive beast, entangling it and attaching to either side of the wall.
Like a miniature forest born within a second, it intertwined with the frost-caked boundaries of steel.
“Nngaah!” Bastian let out in pain from the aftershock of the magic, feeling his already burnt limb overcome with an electrifying pain.
He held his own arm, gripping it tightly while unseen mallets pounded at his bones; a painful reminder of the novice he was with magecraft. His heart raced as he sat there, planted on his posterior with his palms against the cold steel as he looked up at the result of the thrown gemstone.
By some miracle, the erratic eruption of roots and vines managed to create a blockade between himself and the enraged minotaur, much to the dismay of the roaring beast that stomped and thrashed behind the foliage.
“Hff…Hff…” Bastian caught his breath, sat there in disbelief that he was still alive as he checked his own body. It was in a sorry state, but still alive; a resounding victory, in his mind.