The air inside the cave was heavy, like frozen ashes breathing into my chest, choking me. The echo carried the skeleton's laughter—laughter unlike anything human, a dead laugh that made the sweat on my forehead turn cold. The darkness around me stretched like an endless sea, even the torches' light twisted and broke in the freezing wind, as if it came from another world.
The skeleton raised its black sword, the screech of bone against steel sparking like the flicker of death. Its voice was as cold as wind blowing through forgotten graves:
— "All who entered here… fell. You will be no different."
My hands were bleeding from gripping my sword too tightly, my fingers raw and split, but I lifted my eyes and rasped:
— "If they all fell… then I'll be the first to stand."
It didn't give me a chance to think. With demonic speed, it charged. The sword came down like lightning tearing the sky, the ground split beneath us, dust and shards of stone exploded around me. The impact hurled me back meters, my body trembling, my knees smashing into the stone floor.
It moved again—faster than I could see. I tried to parry, but the blade scraped across my face, opening a deep gash. Blood streamed into my eye, turning the world red.
It laughed coldly, its voice drilling into my skull:
— "Weak… just a lost child. The sword in your hand will shatter like paper."
Its strikes fell like rain. The first shattered a boulder behind me, the second tore a gash in my armor, the third shook the ground under my feet. The fourth broke the stone tiles where I stood, and the fifth cracked my blade. Defeat loomed. My body collapsed to my knees, lungs burning with pain, breath ragged and shallow.
It loomed above me, sword raised to my neck, its voice colder than death itself:
— "The worst of humans… is believing they ever had a chance. You're just another page in my book."
I raised my blood-streaked face, smiling through the agony:
— "Maybe… but this page isn't finished yet."
The sword descended with crushing force. The floor shattered beneath us. My armor split, my bones screamed inside my body, pain blazing through every nerve. Yet amid the blood and fractures, my eyes burned with a strange fire.
Everything slowed. The dust hung in the air like a frozen painting. Its laughter warped, dragging deeper, slower. And then I saw it—the blow, the hollow void in its chest, the cursed heart glowing within.
I roared, dragging myself upward:
— "This is my chance!"
My blade pierced its ribs. Sparks burst, bone cracking with a sound that shook the cavern. The skeleton screamed, a howl that tore through the air.
The scream turned the cave into hell. The ground split, the ceiling rained down massive rocks. Its sword ignited with a lethal black energy, the air twisting violently around us. It shrieked in my face:
— "You dare?! Then I'll show you the true meaning of pain!"
It stormed toward me like a hurricane. Its blows weren't just strikes—they were earthquakes. Each parry tore my hands further apart, each dodge ripped my body more. My sword split with fractures, my palms were raw with blood, my face drenched in it.
Every strike tried to snuff out the fire inside me, but each time I found some tiny part of myself still refusing to yield. I collapsed under the weight of its assault. Its blade pressed against my throat, its empty eyes staring into me with deathly calm:
— "Don't scream… the end is always silent."
I laughed, blood spilling from my lips:
— "The end? … This is just the beginning."
My sword began to glow. Blood covered half the blade, and suddenly a red light erupted from it. Time froze. The skeleton stopped in place, the malice in its eyes frozen like a painting.
I screamed with every ounce of pain and fear inside me, driving my blade into its black heart.
The sound that followed was no ordinary scream—it was an explosion, a nightmare shattering. The walls split apart, rocks flew, the entire cavern drowned in dissolving darkness.
I was thrown across the floor, my body crashing like a broken doll. My grip slipped from the sword, my breath ragged, my eyes sliding shut.
And the last thing I heard, the final word drifting through the black mist, was:
— "You've yet… to see my true hell…"
Then—silence.