The air filled with new screams – dozens, if not hundreds, of creatures were approaching through the winding corridors. Their cries merged into a single chorus that made the cave vaults tremble. Finn felt their approach with his whole body – the vibration from many legs was transmitted through the stone.
Fear returned, washing over his back like a cold wave. But now there was something else – the understanding that the only way lay through this horde. With a quick movement, he threw his backpack to the floor, taking out a knife with a worn rope handle. The tulwar in his right hand blazed brighter than before, as if responding to the approaching threat.
The first creature flew out of the darkness – smaller than the hunchback, but just as gray-skinned and vicious. Finn met it with a swing of the tulwar, the sword's flame traced a shining arc, cleanly severing its head. The burnt flesh hissed, filling the air with a nauseating smell of scorched meat. With his foot, he kicked away the still twitching body, clearing space for maneuver.
The next monster received a knife to the temple – the blade went in up to the hilt, blue blood spurted like a fountain. Without wasting time, Finn turned, thrusting the flaming tulwar into the chest of the third creature. The sword's flame burned through the flesh, causing a new wave of suffocating stench.
Pulling the knife from the fallen creature's head and throwing it back, he grabbed the nearest monster by its long neck, using its body as a living shield. Blue blood poured over his hands, making his grip slippery, but adrenaline gave him strength. The tulwar continued to sing, slicing through air and flesh – one creature after another fell, engulfed in flames.
The smell became unbearable – burnt flesh, sour blood, the stench of entrails. Everything mixed into a nauseating cocktail that made his eyes water. But Finn didn't notice, completely immersed in battle. His movements were clumsy, but effective – every blow found its target.
The monsters rolled in waves, their claws scraping against the stone, leaving deep grooves. They climbed from all sides, scrambling over each other in an attempt to reach their prey. Finn spun like a top, using the dead creature's body as a battering ram and shield simultaneously. The tulwar traced fiery arcs, turning each blow into a deadly dance of flames.
Blue blood covered everything – it was on his clothes, face, hands. It dripped from the ceiling, where dying creatures scratched the stone in agony. It turned into steam upon contact with the red-hot blade of the tulwar, creating a peculiar bluish mist.
The screams of wounded monsters echoed off the walls, merging into a cacophony of pain and rage. Finn hacked and stabbed, no longer distinguishing where he struck – instincts took over. The knife in his left hand found vulnerable spots – eyes, throat, joints. The tulwar burned a path through the crowd of creatures, leaving a trail of burning flesh behind him.
Bodies fell one after another, creating obstacles for the new attackers. The air became thick with smoke and fumes, each breath a struggle. But Finn continued to move, continued to fight. His eyes, full of blue flame, glowed brighter and brighter in this hell of fire and blood.
The monsters began to stumble over the bodies of their fallen brethren, their attacks becoming less coordinated. Finn used this, directing some creatures at others, allowing them to hinder each other. The tulwar never stopped singing its fiery song, turning every swing into a death sentence.
Monster blood was everywhere – it dripped down the walls, collected in puddles on the floor, dripped from the ceiling. Its metallic smell mixed with the stench of burnt flesh, creating a suffocating atmosphere. But Finn no longer noticed this – he had become part of this chaos, this slaughter.
Creatures continued to arrive, but now their attacks became more cautious. They saw the mountain of bodies of their brethren, saw the flaming sword and the blue flame in the eyes of the one who was supposed to be easy prey. Fear began to creep into their primitive minds.
Finn moved as if in a trance, each movement following the previous one in a deadly dance. The body used as a shield had long since turned into tattered rags, but he continued to hold it, throwing back new attackers. The dead monster's body and the tulwar worked in terrible harmony, finding breaches in the monsters' defense.
The cave had turned into a real slaughterhouse – mutilated bodies lay everywhere, some still smoking from the touch of the flaming blade. The walls were splattered with blue blood, which slowly dripped onto the floor, forming bizarre patterns. The air became practically unbreathable from the mixture of the smells of death and burnt flesh.
But Finn continued to fight, driven by pure survival instinct. His hands were slippery with blood, his clothes soaked through, but his grip on the weapon remained firm. Every blow, every lunge brought him closer to his goal – to break through this horde, to find a way to freedom.
The monsters retreated and charged again, their claws leaving furrows in the stones and ragged wounds on the boy's body. But he seemed not to feel the pain, completely absorbed in the battle. The blue suns in his eyes blazed brighter and brighter, reflecting in the puddles of blood on the cave floor.
Time seemed to lose meaning in this chaos of battle. Only a few minutes had passed, but for Finn, they stretched into an eternity. Every muscle in his body burned from exertion, wounds he hadn't even suspected existed began to make themselves known.
"Too many... there are too many..." – the thought pulsed in time with his heartbeat. Every swing of the tulwar became more difficult, his hands trembled from fatigue. The dead monster's body, serving as a shield, became unbearably heavy, but he continued to hold it, understanding that it was the only thing separating him from the deadly claws.
Creatures continued to arrive – it seemed their flow only intensified. For every defeated monster, two new ones appeared, even more furious, even more hungry. Their eyes glowed with malevolent fire in the darkness of the cave, and their screams merged into a continuous howl.
"How many have I killed? A hundred? More?" – Finn lost count of the defeated enemies. The mountain of corpses around him grew, but this seemed only to attract new hunters. They climbed over the bodies of their fallen brethren, using them as steps for new attacks.
His strength slowly left him. Each blow became slower, each step – more uncertain. The tulwar still blazed with a bright flame, but now its weight seemed unbearable. Finn began to retreat, step by step yielding ground under the pressure of the endless horde.
"I can't... I can't anymore..." – despair began to seep through the haze of rage. For every monster killed, three new ones appeared, their claws tearing the air inches from his face. Only the tattered body of the shield-monster saved him from immediate death.
The air turned into a suffocating mixture of smoke and stench. Each breath burned his lungs, each exhale was a struggle. Sweat poured into his eyes, mixing with the blue monster blood, creating a bizarre haze before his eyes.
"I need to do something... Something..." – his thoughts tangled, becoming more and more chaotic. Finn continued to fight, but now his movements became wilder, less controlled. Something primal rose from the depths of his being, something dark.
Another wave of creatures rolled in, like a tide of death. Claws tore the air, fangs snapped in dangerous proximity. Finn felt the last remnants of control slip through his fingers. Rage, pure and uncontrolled, overwhelmed his consciousness.
"To hell with it all!" – with this last conscious thought, he threw away the tattered body of the shield-monster. The tulwar continued to blaze with a bright flame, but now this flame seemed to fight with something else – the darkness emanating from Finn himself.
Darkness began to seep from every pore of his body, enveloping him like a second skin. His eyes, previously full of blue fire, widened, releasing streams of pure blackness. This darkness was alive, it moved, pulsed, reached out to the surrounding creatures like predatory tentacles.
"Kill... Destroy... Tear apart..." – the last conscious thoughts dissolved in a stream of primal rage. Finn no longer controlled his body – it moved on its own, driven by ancient instincts to kill or be killed.
The darkness spread around him, absorbing the light, creating an aura of absolute darkness around him. For the first time, the monsters showed signs of real fear – their primitive instincts screamed of the danger emanating from this creature, in which there was almost nothing human left.