I'm gonna die, I thought as the basilisk closed in on my hiding spot. There's nothing I can do. It had already taken down twenty mid-tier heroes, each one stronger than me.
No! I can't die yet! I still have a sister to support. My heart raced as I steeled my resolve and pulled my sword from its sheath. "Please, God! Just give me power! Just this once! I can't die yet!" With that desperate prayer echoing in my mind, I leapt from my hiding spot. "Fireball!" I yelled, using the only spell I knew.
The basilisk staggered as the fireball hit it in the face. Unable to react due to its previous injuries from fighting the mid-tier heroes.Smoke covered its eyes. Now's my chance! I charged forward and thrust my sword deep into its side. "Fireball!" I shouted again, unleashing another blast of fire at the wound. The explosion rocked us both, scorching its flesh.
But the beast wasn't done. It swung its massive tail, slamming into me like a freight train and sending me crashing into a nearby tree. Pain radiated through my body as I scrambled to grab my sword, only to find it stuck deep in the basilisk's flesh.
Am I really gonna die here? Memories of my sister flooded my mind: her laughter, her dreams, her reliance on me. No! I will not die today! I stood up, forcing myself to charge the basilisk again, my breath ragged. It loomed over me, jaws wide open, ready to bite my head off.
With a surge of defiance, I pulled back my sword and swung, but the beast lunged for my arm instead. "For how strong you are, you're equally as stupid!" I shouted. "Fireball!"
I poured everything I had into that spell, fire erupting from my fingertips. The basilisk convulsed, chunks of its body tearing away as it let out a final, agonized roar. I fell to my knees, watching as the creature crumbled, darkness creeping into my vision.
"I'll be back home soon, Risa. Just wait a little longer…"
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READER COMMENTS:
"Bro fell off. What happened to the interesting story we were all invested in? This is just a mess!"
"Man, this novel had a ton of potential, but the author really messed it up. Killing off everyone just doesn't work! It's disappointing to see so much promise wasted."
"Don't read this! The author clearly doesn't care about the readers. Why would you even choose to kill off such great characters? It's like they wanted to ruin the story on purpose."
"What kind of title is I'm the Only Magic Swordsman but All I Know is Fireball? It sounds like a joke! The main character had so much promise early on, but now they just feel flat and uninteresting."
"What happened to the antagonists and villains? The early villains were complex and intriguing; now they're just one-dimensional plot devices. Blade was a better character than any of these so-called 'villains.'"
"I loved this novel, but what is going on now? The pacing is all over the place, and the writing feels rushed. It's heartbreaking to see how far it has fallen from where it started."
---
Sitting in front of my screen, I felt the weight of the negative comments crash down on me. Each one was a reminder of how I had failed to deliver what everyone expected. Anger churned within me, battling against the despair threatening to swallow me whole. How could they say that? I had poured my soul into this story. Yet, all they saw were failures, plot holes, and rushed conclusions.
What do these idiots know? All they do is complain! Do they understand how hard it is to write a novel? I reached for my beer, but the bottle was empty. Great. Just great. I stood up, wobbling slightly as I headed to the fridge, only to find it bare. The emptiness mirrored my own.
As I stepped outside, the night air was crisp, but I felt trapped in a fog of memories and regrets. Where did it all go wrong? I had been so good at everything as a kid. But high school shattered that confidence, leaving me to chase solace in writing. My novel had gained traction, but the pressure to deliver more, faster, consumed me. I wrote and wrote until I couldn't anymore, resulting in a rushed ending that disappointed everyone.
Six years of my life had come crashing down. Each negative comment felt like a brick added to a wall of self-doubt towering over me. I sighed heavily, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes. Why am I crying? How pathetic.
Suddenly, I heard a voice shout, "GET OUT!" The world blurred around me as a bright flash engulfed my vision. A truck careened toward me, and in that split second, all I could think was, Oh, I'm gonna die.
Everything went black.