Myuk stood breathless, the remnants of his mana swirling inside him like a storm. The adrenaline that had surged through him moments ago began to ebb, leaving a raw vulnerability in its wake. He felt the cold stone of the dungeon floor beneath his palms, grounding him even as his heart raced with the echoes of fear. The Gorehound, a creature of nightmares, had been staggered by his attack, but now it loomed before him once more, unfazed and more terrifying than ever.


    Panic surged through Myuk as he watched the Gorehound rise from the ground, its massive form shaking off the remnants of the blow he had delivered. The creature’s eyes glinted with hostility, and its jaws opened wide, revealing rows of jagged teeth glistening with saliva. Myuk’s breath hitched in his throat, a primal instinct to flee clawing at his insides.


    He had managed to inflict some damage, but it was not enough. The Gorehound was still a beast of great strength, and he was just a boy who had stumbled into a world far beyond his comprehension. Myuk’s legs felt weak beneath him, and he stumbled backward, his mind racing with thoughts of hopelessness.


    “No, no, no…” he whispered, the words barely escaping his lips as he fell to his knees. The weight of despair settled over him once more, a crushing force that threatened to pull him under. He was supposed to be a hero, a savior, yet here he was, cowering before a monster.


    The Gorehound let out a loud roar that echoed through the dungeon, shaking the very stones around him. Myuk covered his ears, the sound reverberating in his skull like a war drum, each beat reminding him of his insignificance. He could feel the creature’s fury, a palpable force that filled the air with dread.


    As the Gorehound shook off his attack, a cold dread washed over Myuk. His fists, which had moments ago felt powerful, now trembled with the realization of his inadequacy. The monster before him was a mirror to his fears—a reflection of every moment he had been powerless and deemed worthless. The same sense of failure that had haunted him in his old world now threatened to crush him here.


    Just as he thought all hope was lost, a figure burst into the fray. A warrior clad in gleaming armor that caught the dim light of the torches flew into the chamber with a grace that belied his size. Myuk’s eyes widened in disbelief as the warrior swung his sword with a fluid motion, a glint of steel slicing through the air. The blade met the Gorehound with a resounding clash, and in an instant, the creature’s head was severed from its body, the grotesque form collapsing to the ground in a heap.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    Myuk stared in awe and relief, his heart pounding in his chest as the warrior stood before him, a towering figure of strength and bravery. The creature’s body lay still, the threat extinguished, and for the first time since he had awoken in the dungeon, Myuk felt a flicker of hope. He was not alone. Someone had come to save him.


    “Are you alright?” the warrior asked, his voice deep and commanding. Myuk nodded slowly, still trying to process the whirlwind of events. He pushed himself up from the ground, feeling the cool stone beneath his palms as he regained his footing.


    “Who are you?” Myuk managed to ask, his voice trembling with gratitude and awe.


    As the warrior turned to face him, Myuk felt an inexplicable chill. There was something in the man’s eyes—an unsettling glint that didn’t match the heroic image Myuk had conjured. The way the warrior’s gaze lingered on him as if assessing more than just his well-being made Myuk’s skin crawl. The relief he had felt moments ago began to waver, replaced by a creeping sense of dread.


    The warrior stepped closer, a sinister smile creeping across his face, sending a chill down Myuk’s spine. “I’m just a passerby, a humble warrior who happened to be in the right place at the right time,” he replied, his tone dripping with mockery.


    Myuk’s heart sank as the unease solidified into gnawing fear. The glint in the warrior’s eyes and his smile, which didn’t reach them, all pointed to something dark, something dangerous.


    “Why did you save me?” Myuk asked, his voice barely above a whisper.


    The warrior’s smile widened as he leaned down to Myuk’s level, his breath hot against Myuk’s face. “Oh, I saved you just to kill you myself,” he said, the words laced with cruel humor that made Myuk’s stomach churn.


    Before he could react, the warrior kicked him hard in the stomach, a brutal blow that sent Myuk flying against the wall. Pain exploded through his body, and he gasped for breath as he slumped to the ground, the world around him spinning.


    The pain from the warrior’s kick radiated through Myuk’s body, but it was nothing compared to the shattering of his final hope. As he crumpled against the wall, gasping for breath, something inside him broke—something fragile that had held onto the belief that he could still be saved, that there was good in this world.