Four hours had passed since Ulah found himself plunged into the mysterious world beyond the mundane. The air crackled with anticipation as he stood, his world rematerializing around him. A colossal storm approached, with thunder rumbling like the growl of a slumbering beast.
Lightning struck the ground with ferocity, as if the very earth scorned its presence. Ulah squinted against the blinding flash, a sense of dread tightening his chest. From the searing light emerged an ominous silhouette, far away on the plain.
With each step, the enigmatic figure grew nearer. Ulah's stance shifted, sword in hand, his determination unwavering. The approaching creature, obscured by distance, seemed relentless in its pursuit.
Ulah's eyes narrowed, his mind racing, "How long until it reaches me?" As the beast closed in, its colossal size became apparent. A towering 15 meters, every stride pounded the ground with an unforgiving rhythm.
The beast's musculature was a grotesque marvel. Every inch of its body resembled a weapon. As it loomed ever closer, Ulah's face contorted with a mixture of doubt and determination. This was a colossal adversary.
The ground quaked under the approaching monster's fury, and Ulah's gaze fixated on its anatomy. His body surged forward, drawn to the impending clash. The beast's fists descended upon him, a death sentence carried by colossal fists.
The sound of impact was deafening, a fusion of metal and flesh. In a disorienting moment of darkness, Ulah's senses returned. His surroundings were wet, metallic, and reeked of iron. The monstrous hand that had enveloped him had collapsed onto the ground.
Ulah's senses struggled to process the chaos. Blood covered his body, and the weight of it pressed upon him. An otherworldly stench filled the air, threatening to choke him. A low growl emanated from somewhere, perhaps the fallen beast. He questioned his own existence. Had the creature even touched him?
Light began to pierce the darkness as the beast lifted its limb, revealing Ulah, somehow intact. The world grew brighter as he emerged from the grasp of flesh and bone. Blood drenched him, and he tumbled to the ground, his clothing and hair soaked in crimson. It was a sensation of discomfort and filth that clung to him.
The beast, a distant form now, writhed in agony, its groans echoing across the plain. A piercing wail, unbearable to the human ear, signified its suffering. Ulah's own senses were dulled by the relentless flow of blood into his ears.
Minutes passed, and something peculiar unfolded. The blood that had saturated Ulah's body began to transform, flowing towards his sword. The crimson blade shifted into a lustrous, metallic red, gleaming with an otherworldly intensity. It was a sight that defied belief, one that Ulah could only admire.
"I've only seen this kind of thing in novels or TV shows," Ulah muttered, torn between awe and disbelief.
"Blood transfusion!" an anonymous voice exclaimed, responding to Ulah's unspoken thoughts. Ulah's startled jump marked the voice's sudden appearance, leaving him disoriented.
"A power-up from the sword. Each stage presents greater challenges," the voice continued. "This alone won't ensure your survival, but it is a tool to exploit. If you discover a way, proceed. For now, continue your current stage."
Ulah's eyes darted around in search of the voice's source, but the owner remained hidden.
As Ulah pondered this enigmatic voice, a mage sentinel's voice reached Zoh, though hidden from Ulah's hearing.
"Is that acceptable to you?" the sentinel inquired quietly, their voices shrouded by an arcane trick to prevent Ulah from eavesdropping.
Zoh's response was curt, "I'll allow it."
The fallen beast's countenance had grown more hostile, far removed from its initial encounter with the young human. It regained its footing with a dominant aura, its intentions clear—vengeance.
Ulah's thoughts raced as he considered the sword's newfound abilities. "So, this sword can absorb the blood of creatures I slay and upgrade itself?"
Before he could contemplate further, an unexpected attack interrupted his thoughts. The beast's cannon-like fist struck, creating a deep crater in the ground. Ulah was sent hurtling several meters, and the toll on his body was severe. Helpless, he contemplated what might have been if he had managed to employ the sword's newfound power. Doubt and confusion gripped him as he lay on the ground, resigned to a slow death.
The beast, however, had different plans. With deliberate intent, it seized Ulah and hoisted him into the air as if he were a mere morsel. Panic coursed through Ulah's veins as he dangled, high above the creature's gaping maw.
As the Leviathan prepared to consume him, Ulah prepared for a desperate gambit. He brandished his sword, determined to strike back even in the face of certain death.
"Okay, eat me!" Ulah shouted with fiery determination. He had a plan, and he was ready to meet the beast on his own terms
.
The beast released its grip, and Ulah descended into its waiting jaws, his sword leading the way. He aimed to strike the back of the beast's throat, seeking to hold on and defy his gruesome fate.
He landed with a thud and thrust the blade deep into the creature's flesh, creating a precarious ledge from which he clung. Darkness closed in around him, and the beast's throat was anything but accommodating. Ulah's palms grew sweaty, and his grip on the sword was unsteady.
Fueled by determination, Ulah devised a daring plan. His survival hinged on this audacious gamble. Twisting the sword into a vertical position, he aimed to slice through the beast's throat, causing it immense pain and suffering.
As he rotated the blade, the creature writhed and convulsed in agony. The crowd, which had once cheered, now watched in bewilderment and shock. They had witnessed many battles, but nothing like this.
Ulah's relentless determination and the beast's torment filled the arena with a sense of awe and disbelief. As the battle raged on, Ulah continued to twist the sword, severing an essential artery within the beast's throat. Blood gushed out, drenching Ulah and painting the creature's insides a ghastly shade of red.
The Leviathan's struggles grew weaker, its strength waning. The crowd's confusion turned to shock, and then awe. Ulah had achieved the impossible.
Yet, he wasn't finished. With the Leviathan defeated and lifeless, Ulah showed no mercy. He relentlessly hacked at the beast's throat, ensuring it could never threaten anyone again. It was a brutal and decisive victory, a bloodbath in every sense.
With each strike, more blood was absorbed into the sword, further enhancing its power. Ulah felt a surge of strength coursing through him, a newfound vitality.
Finally, the Leviathan lay still, a defeated and lifeless monstrosity. Ulah had not only survived but had emerged victorious. The sword had absorbed the last traces of the beast's life force, and it now gleamed with an otherworldly power.
With the thunderstorm subsiding, the world around Ulah transformed back into the Dungeon. The crowd's hushed amazement echoed in his ears.
The mysterious announcer's voice broke the silence. "Hm, you've done well against our Leviathan. Prepare for Stage 2."
Before Ulah could fully grasp the situation, the setting shifted, and he found himself in a colossal arena filled with an eager, boisterous crowd. He stood alone in the center, gripping his mighty sword, the embodiment of resilience.
"Stage 2," the enigmatic voice declared.
On the opposite end of the arena, an enormous gate creaked open, revealing an impenetrable darkness. A single horn pierced the abyss, followed by the emergence of the new adversary. Ulah locked eyes with the creature, a devil incarnate, seething with malice.
The Leviathan's presence was overwhelming, standing at a towering 25 meters. Its charred red and black skin, adorned with stone plates, radiated menace. Its fists resembled massive boulders, and its body resembled a formidable mountain. With a single horn protruding from its head and scars etching its battle-hardened skin, the Leviathan was the very embodiment of terror.
As the ground quaked beneath its weight, the Leviathan circled Ulah, its eyes filled with a thirst for battle. Back in the shadows, Zoh's voice resonated with concern. "Back out of it now, Sentinel! He's defenseless!"
But the Mage Sentinel remained steadfast, his gaze unwavering. "Just wait, Zoh."
The atmosphere in the arena was electric, the crowd's cheers giving way to an uneasy hush. Ulah locked eyes with the Leviathan, and all else faded away.
"Shall we begin?" the Mage Sentinel inquired.
Ulah and the Leviathan exchanged a silent but deadly understanding.
"Even if you kill me," Ulah declared, "they'll revive me."
"There are no revives beyond this point," the Mage Sentinel revealed, shocking Zoh.
The arena descended into a tense silence, and then the countdown began.
"Stage 2, may commence... in 3... 2... 1... Go!"
Ulah sprinted toward the monstrous adversary, his sword raised high, determined to face this new challenge head-on. But as he closed the distance, the Leviathan's colossal fists slammed into the ground.
Ulah lost his grip on the sword, tumbling helplessly as the beast prepared for a devastating strike. The battle had only just begun, and the odds were already stacked against him.
As he fell, the Leviathan had something else in mind. It grabbed Ulah mid-air, lifting him high above the arena, a mere plaything in its monstrous grasp. Panic coursed through Ulah's veins as he dangled, high above the creature's gaping maw.
The Leviathan's gaping maw opened wide, ready to devour him whole. Ulah brandished his sword, attempting to stab the beast, but he knew that falling into its mouth meant certain death.
"Okay, eat me!" Ulah screamed with fiery determination. He had a plan, and he was ready to meet the beast on his own terms.
The beast released its grip, and Ulah descended into its waiting jaws, his sword leading the way. He aimed to strike the back of the beast's throat, seeking to hold on and defy his gruesome fate.
He landed with a thud and thrust the blade deep into the creature's flesh, creating a precarious ledge from which he clung. Darkness closed in around him, and the beast's throat was anything but accommodating. Ulah's palms grew sweaty, and his grip on the sword was unsteady.
Fueled by determination, Ulah devised a daring plan. His survival hinged on this audacious gamble. Twisting the sword into a vertical position, he aimed to slice through the beast's throat, causing it immense pain and suffering.
As he rotated the blade, the creature writhed and convulsed in agony. The crowd, which had once cheered, now watched in bewilderment and shock. They had witnessed many battles, but nothing like this.
Ulah's relentless determination and the beast's torment filled the arena with a sense of awe and disbelief. As the battle raged on, Ulah continued to twist the sword, severing an essential artery within the beast's throat. Blood gushed out, drenching Ulah and painting the creature's insides a ghastly shade of red.
The Leviathan's struggles grew weaker, its strength waning. The crowd's confusion turned to shock, and then awe. Ulah had achieved the impossible.
Yet, he wasn't finished. With the Leviathan defeated and lifeless, Ulah showed no mercy. He relentlessly hacked at the beast's throat, ensuring it could never threaten anyone again. It was a brutal and decisive victory, a bloodbath in every sense.
With each strike, more blood was absorbed into the sword, further enhancing its power. Ulah felt a surge of strength coursing through him, a newfound vitality.
Finally, the Leviathan lay still, a defeated and lifeless monstrosity. Ulah had not only survived but had emerged victorious.