HER LEGS TREMBLED. The Crimson Hydra stared her down, golden eyes gleaming with hunger. Every breath of the Crimson Hydra filled the cavern with the stench of poison and smoke.
Everyone's gone...
She wanted to collapse, to curl up and disappear. That old fear came flooding back—the same suffocating terror she felt four days ago when that incident tore apart her world. Her body screamed at her to run, to hide.
But there was nowhere to run.
And then... her eyes fell on it.
A sword—lying not far from her, its blade still faintly glowing with the aura of the raid captain who had fallen moments before.
Her heart pounded. She was a healer. She had never trained with a blade. Her duty was to stand at the back, to mend, to restore—not to kill.
But if she stayed still, she would die.
I don't want to die... not here. Not like this.
The hydra's heads hissed, lowering, ready to devour her. Her chest burned with panic—then anger. Anger at her weakness. Anger at the monsters. Anger that everyone she followed, everyone she trusted, was gone.
"No..." she whispered, tears streaking her face. "Not again. I won't die here. I'll live!"
With a scream, she dropped her staff and lunged for the sword. Her fingers wrapped around the hilt. It was heavier than she imagined, the weight pulling at her arm, but the warmth of its fading aura sank into her skin.
The hydra lunged.
She swung with all her strength—CLANG! Sparks flew as steel met scale. The impact jolted up her arm, numbing her bones, but the blade cut shallow into the monster's flesh.
The creature recoiled, hissing in pain.
Her eyes widened. It worked... I can hurt it.
Adrenaline surged through her veins, stronger than fear. She raised the sword again, gripping it with both hands. Her body screamed in protest—she wasn't trained for this, her stance was clumsy, her swings wild—but survival burned hotter than hesitation.
The hydra's heads struck again, one after another. She rolled to the side, her heart in her throat as venom splashed where she had been standing. The stone hissed and melted. She screamed and charged, slashing at the nearest head. The blade cut deeper this time, black blood spraying across her face.
"Die!" she shouted, voice cracking.
Her arms ached, her lungs burned, but with every swing, her fear began to crumble. What replaced it was raw, desperate fury.
Images flashed in her mind—her past, her helplessness, the screams of people she couldn't save. But now, facing the beast, she refused to freeze. She refused to be prey.
"You won't take me!" she screamed.
The hydra's tail lashed out, slamming into the ground. She staggered, pain shooting through her leg, but she forced herself upright, dragging the sword with her. Another head lunged. She met it head-on, bringing the blade down with everything she had.
SLASH!
The head fell, crashing to the ground, blood pouring from the stump. The hydra shrieked, the cavern shaking with its rage.
Her arms trembled. Her vision blurred from tears and exhaustion. But she tightened her grip.
She was no longer just a healer. She was someone who wanted to live. Someone who would fight—even if it meant holding a sword she had no knowledge to wield.
"Come on then," she whispered, her voice breaking but her eyes blazing with defiance. "I'll survive this... even if I have to cut you down myself."
The hydra roared, and she roared back, sword raised high.
For the first time in her life, she wasn't just healing others. She was fighting for her own survival.
The hydra hissed, its three heads weaving in fury. Blood oozed from the stump of the one she had cut down, but two more had already grown in its place.
She gasped for air, sweat stinging her eyes. How... how can I kill it if it keeps regrowing?
The ground trembled as the beast lunged again. One head spewed fire, another venom, the cavern erupting into chaos. She dodged, rolling across sharp stones, her arm screaming in pain from the weight of the sword.
I can't... I can't stop... If I stop, I die!
The creature snapped at her, and she swung, slicing into its jaw. The blade carved deep, splitting it apart, black blood splattering her clothes. She screamed, half in fear, half in rage.
Another head darted toward her. She ducked low, thrusting the sword upward. SHHHK! The steel pierced through its throat. She pulled it free with a cry, stumbling backward as the monster reeled.
But still more heads came.
Tears blurred her vision. Her arms were heavy as lead. Each breath felt like fire in her chest. I can't win... I'm just a healer...
Then her eyes fell on the commander's sword again. The faint glow pulsed, as if alive, as if reminding her: he had trusted this blade to cut through anything.
Her grip tightened.
No. I'm not just a healer anymore.
She screamed and charged.
One head lunged, and she met it head-on, swinging with all her fury. The blade sliced through its neck in one clean arc. Another head came from the side—she spun, slashing again, her rage fueling strength she didn't know she had.
"Die! Just die already!" she screamed, voice breaking.
Two heads fell. Then three. Black blood covered her from head to toe, burning against her skin, but she didn't stop. She struck again and again, driven by anger, fear, and the desperate need to live.
At last, she saw it—the center of its body, the thick chest where all the heads sprouted. Its core.
That's it... If I cut there... it won't rise again.
The hydra roared, its remaining heads thrashing, but she didn't hesitate. She sprinted forward, dodging the snapping jaws, ignoring the searing venom that splashed near her feet. Every muscle in her body screamed in protest, but she forced them to move.
With one final cry, she raised the sword high and drove it straight into the beast's chest.
CRAAACK!
The blade tore through scales, bone, and flesh, piercing deep into the core. The hydra shrieked, its voices merging into one ear-splitting scream. Its body thrashed violently, shaking the cavern, before collapsing with a thunderous crash.
Black blood poured across the stone floor, the stench overwhelming. Its heads writhed weakly, then went still.
She fell to her knees, chest heaving, her arms numb from the final blow. The sword slipped from her hands, clattering against the ground.
Silence.
She stared at the fallen monster, her whole body trembling. Her heart felt like it might burst—but she was alive. Against all odds, against everything she believed about herself... she had slain the Crimson Hydra.
Slowly, a broken laugh escaped her lips. Half in disbelief, half in relief.
"I did it... I actually did it."
Her tears mixed with the blood on her face as she whispered to herself, voice shaking but proud.
"I survived."
Her body gave out the moment the Hydra stopped moving. She collapsed onto the blood-soaked stone, gasping, each breath sharp as knives. Her hands were blistered and trembling, her palms raw from gripping the sword too tightly. Every muscle screamed in pain; her healer's robes were torn, drenched in blood—some hers, most the monster's.
Her vision swam. She coughed hard, spitting black ichor that had splashed into her mouth during the fight. Her throat burned, her skin stung where venom had grazed her. Even the simple act of breathing felt like punishment.
She pressed her forehead against the cold stone floor, her tears mixing with the filth around her.
"I can't... move anymore..." she whispered, her voice hoarse. Her entire body was shaking, not from fear now, but from exhaustion and pain.
The silence of the cavern pressed down on her like a heavy shroud. No comrades. No cheering. No one left to heal. Just her—alive by some cruel miracle.
Then... she felt it.
The air shifted. Heavy. Cold.
Her skin prickled as an oppressive aura descended upon the dungeon. Stronger than the Hydra. Stronger than anything she had ever felt before.
A light flared in the distance—pure white, blinding against the darkness. At first, she thought she was hallucinating, her mind breaking under the stress. But then the sound reached her. Boots striking stone. Dozens of them. Dozens marching in perfect rhythm.
She forced her head up, her eyes widening in horror and awe.
From the misty corridors of the dungeon emerged an army clad in white armor, their presence radiating an aura so sharp it felt like blades pressing against her throat. Their helmets gleamed, faceless and cold, their long cloaks dragging across the ground without a sound.
At their lead was a towering figure, his armor brighter than the rest, a spear in his hand that pulsed with a faint, divine light. His mere presence made her lungs seize, as if the air itself bent to his will.
She tried to crawl backward, but her arms gave out.
"W-Who... who are you...?" her voice broke, barely a whisper.
The army did not answer. They simply stopped, rows upon rows of them, their formation perfect. The silence was suffocating.
Then, as one, they lowered their weapons—not to strike her, but in acknowledgment.
The leader stepped forward, his aura washing over her like a tidal wave. She couldn't breathe. Her heart pounded, her body screamed at her to run, but she couldn't even stand. Her insides start to panic. W-what is this? W-who are them?
The armored figure stopped only a few steps away from her broken body. His shadow fell over her, colder and heavier than the cavern air. She tried to lift her sword again, but her arm was dead weight. The blade clattered uselessly to the floor.
His voice came—deep, commanding, echoing in her very soul.
"You fought well, mortal. Stronger than I expected from a healer that from another world."
Her lips trembled. "How d-did you k-know?" Who is this know be aware that she is not from this world? Even though she's dying she scoff. "S-Strong? I'm... I'm dying..."
She coughed hard, blood spilling onto her hand. Her chest burned, her vision dimming. Every bone in her body screamed. Truly, she could feel her life slipping away.
"I know... because it was you who awakened me, mortal from another world."
The leader lowered his spear, the light humming softly.
"All things die. But I am offering you more than death. I am offering... power. Become my vessel. "
Her eyes widened in fear. Vessel. She knew what that meant.
"You... want to take over my body?" she whispered. "No. I... I won't let anyone control me."
For the first time, she thought she saw the faint curve of a smile beneath his helm.
"I have no desire to control you, girl. I only need a host. I will not interfere with your will—unless..."
Her heart skipped. "Unless what?"
His voice thundered like judgment itself. "Unless you become a calamity that threatens this world. Only then will I take the reins."
Her stomach knotted. The idea of something living inside her, waiting, watching—it chilled her to the bone. But what choice did she have? Her body was ruined, her strength gone.
She let out a bitter laugh, tears streaking her dirt-stained face.
"My body... can't move anymore. I'm just... waiting for my last breath. Maybe that's easier than... agreeing to this."
The ruler stepped closer, his aura pressing down until she thought her ribs might snap. But his words pierced through her despair. "Then let me heal you. Let me mend your broken flesh, restore your life. Accept me... and live."
Her eyes widened. Heal? Could he truly do that?
Her hands clenched weakly against the floor. She thought of her comrades lying lifeless around her. She thought of how terrified she had been—yet how much she wanted to live. She wanted to keep walking forward.
She shut her eyes, trembling.
"...I don't want to die... Not yet."
Slowly, painfully, she forced the words out. "I... accept."
The leader lowered his hand over her chest. A blinding white light poured into her body, searing, burning—and then soothing. Her wounds closed. Her breath steadied. Her broken bones knit themselves back together. Warmth spread through her veins, chasing away the pain until she could finally draw a full breath again.
When the light faded, she lay on the stone floor, panting. Her body felt whole again. Stronger even. But in her chest, beneath her heartbeat, she felt him—a presence vast and terrible, like a storm sealed inside her.
The ruler's voice echoed in her mind now, calm and absolute.
"From this day forth, you are mine. My vessel. Rise, and live again."