"Run... Start running. Hey! You two! Run!" Sigvald's urgent whisper turns into a sharp, desperate shout as he slowly backs away.
Not that we need telling—we're already set on fleeing… But the moment the monster's roar thunders through the air, right as its front legs fully regenerate, the ground trembles beneath us. Our balance wavers, but not enough to stop us from bolting at full speed.
"The regeneration thing… Was that… normal in this world?" The question slips out before I can stop myself—something I probably shouldn't have needed to ask.
Sigvald frowns, clearly confused by my question, exchanging looks with Garrik—the one who steps in to explain, "Uh... he says he lost his past memories."
And without a hint of doubt, Sigvald accepts the answer, then shakes his head. "No. That was anything but normal in this world."
"So? Anyone got a plan here?"
The same kid who had us running without actually telling us where to go in the first place is now asking, as if he isn't the one we should be questioning.
"What about cutting off its head?" I gasp between breaths, my chest tightening with every word. "Doesn't that usually kill things with regeneration?"
"Solid plan. Got a way to pull it off?" Sigvald, as expected, shoots another question back.
"This isn't right... There's no way we're outrunning a four-legged beast that size!"
Garrik steals a quick glance over his shoulder—then his voice pitches up. "I knew it! Don't look back, but it's gaining on us!"
"Argh, fuck it! Up ahead—the pillar!" I shout, barely masking my anxiety.
"Can you do it, Deon?"
I'm not even sure who asks, but I give a firm nod anyway, signaling them to push forward while I slow my pace, veering straight toward the towering stone structure.
As the moment closes in, I plant my palm and right foot against the pillar's rough surface, halting my momentum for just a split second before twisting my body around to face the beast. Eyes locked, breath steady—I track its movements, reading every subtle shift, every tell. It has to strike soon. I just need to predict which limb will come first and pray it doesn't scent the unyielding stone looming right behind me.
First left…
Then right…
Left…
Right…
Left…
Front right leg… That must be the one.
Now, I just have to wait for its jaws to open for my dodge to the right.
Alright… Stay low, and let the rush of adrenaline push this body past its limits, each pulse pounding in my ears, stretching the moment impossibly thin, slowing everything down.
Then—now!
Time snaps back to full speed in a blink.
The deafening crash shakes the ground, dust exploding into the air as I cough against the thick cloud, barely registering what just happened.
And while still unaware of what I'm charging into, I press forward anyway, dagger raised, ready for whatever might come… But reality has other plans.
A sudden blur shoots toward me from the front. My instincts flare, but instead of guarding myself, I foolishly lash out with my dagger—only to be met with three sweeping tails, my attack barely grazing them. And in return, I'm sent hurtling backward, carried away along with the swirling dust and gravel.
I haven't even been struck by a proper attack. That tail whip wasn't meant to hit me—it was just the beast clearing the hovering dust that likely obscured its sense of smell. And I, in my blind aggression, get caught in the backlash like an idiot.
Well… At least, for some reason, the monster isn't chasing me anymore. Maybe its nose is still messed up, or maybe someone closer has a stronger scent pulling its attention. Either way, I'm no longer its target.
So I decided to give up trying to stand… Letting my body sink against the cold stone floor, I focus on steadying my breath, listening to the distant echoes of screams and frantic footsteps—people playing a deadly game of tag with a blind monster.
And I just can't…
Even at my peak, I wouldn't stand a chance against something like that. No, even with the modern weapons I used to wield, it'd still be impossible. If it can regenerate as fast as I've seen, no amount of firepower would be enough to put it down.
Even magic—assuming I knew any spells and actually had mana—feels useless. I mean, no matter how I look at it, killing that thing seems downright impossible. Or maybe that's the whole point of this trial... Fighting an immortal beast for three hours straight.
...But that couldn't be right.
Could it?
"Whoa! What the hell are you doing lying around like an idiot?" A familiar feminine voice rings out from above. "Get up! Anything that stops moving in this place is dead meat!"
Following her oh-so-gentle advice, I stretch out my limbs and sit up, folding my legs beneath me.
"Did you hit your head or something? Don't tell me you lost your memories again!"
"Calm down. I'm fine."
"Good. But you should really help them take that thing down, Deon."
I frown. "And what exactly are they doing?"
"They're trying to lure it into that little pool over there."
Siona's explanation actually sounds... interesting. A solid plan, at least in theory. But before I can even comment on it—
SPLASH.
A sound of a crash echoes through the chamber as something massive plunges into the water. Then came the cheers. One after another, voices erupt in celebration, their triumph ringing against the stone walls. I turn toward the center of the chamber—just in time to watch the monster explode out of the water. It thrashes, shaking its head as if disoriented, then snaps its jaws wildly in every direction… And by sheer misfortune, one of those snapping jaws is aimed right at a child who has just lost their footing.
The celebration shatters into chaos, screams replacing their victory cries as they scatter in every direction.
"Shit…" I mutter, brushing the dirt off my knees as I stand. "Just when I actually thought that would work."
"I mean, if you'd rather let that thing feast on as many people as possible and leave only a handful of survivors for these trials, then be my guest. Whatever gets me out of this miserable kingdom faster."
"That just means tomorrow, the monster has fewer targets and a higher chance of coming for us," I say. But my words must've struck a nerve because Siona's expression darkens with irritation.
"Why do you always talk like you actually want to stay here longer?"
"That's not what I meant… I just think we should take it down while we still have the numbers. If it can even be killed at all in the first place."
"About that… As far as I know, nothing in this world is truly immortal. There's always a way to kill something that moves. Even the Demon Lord—whose kind hailed him as the one true immortal—was proven to be dead."
"Demon Lord?"
"Deon!"
A shout echoes from across the chamber, accompanied by the harsh screech of metal scraping against stone. I turn to see Garrik and Sigvald dragging a massive greatsword—easily the largest weapon I've seen in this place.
"Think you can pull off that throw again with this?" Garrik asks, eyes brimming with confidence.
"Are you insane?" I shoot back.
"Come on! I saw you do it before, and I know that wasn't just luck!"
"This sword is way heavier than the one I threw earlier! And besides, last time, my target was standing upright, its neck fully exposed."
"What's the difference this time?"
I open my mouth to explain what I think is obvious… then hesitate.
Instead, I counter with a question of my own. "Why don't you just cut its head off with that magic of yours?"
For some reason, Garrik falls silent—just as stumped as I am.
"Well… Unlike you, I'm running out of HP to burn for spells," he finally admits.
"Fine. Siona, what spell do you guys use to restore HP?" I cut in, ignoring whatever nonsense Garrik is about to spew next.
"Xerathil… and then Vithara."
"Parx… Akh… Xerathil… Vithara… Voz…"
Three orbs of bright light burst from my chest, floating toward Garrik as I point a finger at him. "Now you've got no more excuses," I say flatly.
"If I miss—"
"You won't." I cut him off, my voice firm. "That's why you're here with everyone."
For some reason, saying that feels... strange. Almost like the kind of pride a father might have for his kid. Maybe that's exactly what this dumbass needs—because now, he actually looks convinced.
"But I'll still need backup."
"Relax… I'll figure out a way to make that thing look up."
Garrik falls silent for a moment before nodding, a small, reluctant smile crossing his face. He's starting to trust us.
"I'll lure it toward that pillar." I point at a spot for him to memorize. "Find a good place to fire from—somewhere safe, with a clear shot."
"Keep an eye on the undead too," Siona adds, offering her own bit of encouragement.
~~~~~