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Information
Minotaur
Rank: Greater Beast
Level: 34
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A minotaur.
A 'Greater Class' beast.
I swallowed hard, my hands tightening instinctively. While the knights were capable, they were all 'Elite Class' at best—trained and experienced, yes, but still not on the level required to take on something like this.
If it were just a pack of 'Lesser' Beasts, this wouldn't have been a problem. Sir Leon, Sir Ben, and Sir John could have handled it. But a Greater Class? That was a completely different level of threat.
The tension escalated the moment Sir Ben caught sight of me. His eyes widened in panic, blood streaked across his forehead.
"Young Master! Run away!" he shouted.
But before I could even think of replying, the minotaur turned and slammed its massive battle axe sideways into Sir Ben's ribs. It didn't even use the blade—just the blunt side.
"Ugh—!"
The force of the blow launched him like a ragdoll. He crashed into a tree with a sickening thud, blood spraying from his mouth before his eyes rolled back and he went limp.
My heart dropped.
"Sir Ben—!"
But I didn't have time to rush toward him.
The minotaur didn't stop.
It lunged toward Sir John next. The knight barely raised his blade to defend himself before a brutal punch landed square into his chest. His armor crumpled slightly under the weight of the strike. His body flew back, rolled across the ground, and stopped moving.
'This is bad.'
Really bad.
All three knights were now unconscious.
'Should I escape?' I thought, forcing myself to stay calm.
But then the minotaur's gaze locked onto mine.
Everything stopped.
I couldn't move. Could barely breathe. That pressure—it was suffocating. Like something primal and ancient had just decided I was prey.
My legs nearly gave out under that oppressive glare, but I gritted my teeth.
'No. I can't run.'
Even if I tried, he'd catch me in seconds. That much was obvious.
I looked at the fallen knights.
Their armor was dented, their swords broken or tossed aside. They'd fought until they collapsed, to protect me.
'If I run now, I'd be trampling on their efforts.'
I took a breath and made a decision.
'The only thing I can do is fight.'
I opened my inventory.
A soft glow shimmered beside me as I pulled the sword from my dimensional space—his sword.
As soon as it touched my hand, I felt that familiar warmth.
I gripped the hilt and took a stance. The air around me shifted slightly as I focused.
Almost instantly, the group of 'Lesser' Beasts snarled and charged at me. Claws bared, fangs dripping with bloodlust.
I didn't hesitate.
I moved.
One clean swing. Then another.
Their bodies were cleaved through effortlessly. My blade sang through the air, precise, fluid—almost like it had a will of its own.
It felt like something inside me had clicked. My movements were faster, sharper. I wasn't stumbling or second-guessing. My senses had heightened. I could feel the trajectory of their attacks, see the gaps in their defense.
'So this is what a 500% boost in sword mastery feels like…'
But I didn't have time to be amazed.
The minotaur had been watching silently. Observing. And now, it moved.
It charged at me with terrifying speed for something its size.
I barely raised my sword in time to block its strike.
The impact jarred my bones. My arms screamed from the force. I slid back several meters, my heels digging trenches into the ground. My muscles trembled.
'He's insanely strong…!'
Even with this weapon, I was being overwhelmed. The difference between us was stark.
But then again, I reminded myself—I was still in the body of a seven-year-old. My stats weren't exactly peak.
We exchanged several blows. Sparks flew each time our weapons clashed. He was faster than expected, his strikes heavy and relentless. I could tell he was holding back at first, gauging me.
Almost like he was enjoying it. Watching me struggle.
From time to time, one of the remaining Lesser Beasts would leap toward me, forcing me to split my attention.
It was a nightmare.
I was panting. My arms were growing numb. The only reason I was still standing was because the sword compensated for my lack of technique.
But then, the minotaur's expression changed. Its eyes narrowed. The sadistic amusement faded.
It had decided to end things.
Before I could react, it spun with surprising agility and slammed its axe into my side. I barely got my sword up in time to soften the blow, but it was still like getting hit by a boulder.
I flew back. Crashed into a tree. Bark cracked and fell around me.
Pain erupted through my ribs. I coughed violently, red streaks hitting the back of my hand.
My vision blurred. My limbs refused to listen. I could feel my consciousness slipping.
'No... not yet.'
I forced my hand over my chest and muttered, "Heal."
A faint green light surrounded me. The pain dulled just a little.
Again—"Heal."
It was only a D-rank spell. The most basic healing magic. It couldn't close deep wounds or fix broken bones. But it kept me awake. Barely.
The minotaur approached slowly, each step heavier than the last. It gripped the axe in both hands now. Its body loomed over mine like a grim executioner.
'If I pass out now… I'm dead.'
I looked up, squinting past the blood.
And then I saw it—the floating window. My interface.
The Sub-Skill. [His Legacy].
It had an unknown cooldown. I'd planned to save it. Only for real emergencies. But this was it, wasn't it?
There was no other choice.
The risk was huge. If I collapsed after using the skill, I'd be defenseless out here in the middle of nowhere. No one left to protect me.
But if I didn't use it…
Then we'd all die here.
I stared at the screen, gritting my teeth.
'Screw it.'
'I'll figure it out later. For now—'
I activated the skill.