The group pressed forward after their breakfast, their journey marked by the rhythmic clinking of armor and the muffled crunch of boots against the stone floor. The cavernous labyrinth swallowed their sounds, amplifying the growing sense of unease. As they ventured deeper, every step felt like a step closer to an unknown peril that lay shrouded in the shadows ahead.
After hours of navigating twisting paths and dimly lit corridors, the adventurers halted abruptly.
They stood before the Grand Bridge, a marvel of ancient engineering that seemed to defy reality itself. It stretched across an abyss so vast and dark it felt as though the void itself might consume them. The bridge, an architectural masterpiece, spanned 1000 meters in length and 100 meters in width. Its pale stone glimmered faintly under the dim light that seeped from the massive crystals embedded in the cavern ceiling above.
Intricate patterns of strange symbols and letters adorned its surface, glowing faintly with an otherworldly light. These inscriptions, remnants of a long-lost civilization, seemed to pulse softly, as though alive. An ethereal shimmer hung in the air, lending the bridge an aura of forgotten power.
The adventurers stepped onto the bridge with tentative reverence, the vast emptiness around them casting a strange hush over the group. The air felt thinner, quieter, as if the void itself swallowed every sound. Even the boldest among them were subdued by the enormity of the space.
The polished stone tiles beneath their feet reflected the faint glow, creating the illusion of walking upon a shimmering lake of stars. The towering walls on either side rose high above them, inscribed with ancient carvings that seemed to whisper secrets no one could understand. Dry strands of ivy hung from the walls, swaying gently in the faint, unnatural breeze.
Alicia Roman, ever watchful, slowed her steps as her eyes lingered on the inscriptions. Her fingers brushed against the glowing carvings as though searching for meaning. The commander's silver cloak trailed behind her, catching the faint glow and making her appear almost spectral in the dim light.
It was then that a female knight's soft voice cut through the heavy silence:
"The point of no return."
Her words echoed hauntingly in the still air, turning every head. Even Sir Andrew Paul, known for his composed demeanor, glanced sharply toward her, his curiosity piqued.
Andrew approached her, his tone lighter than usual as he asked, "You understand this language? How do you know it?"
The knight hesitated, her expression caught between surprise and unease. Her delicate features softened as she answered, "I learned it as a child. A mage—one of my father's friends—studied ancient languages. He taught me a little of what he knew."
Her voice carried a hint of uneasiness, though she quickly masked it. Andrew's scholarly curiosity deepened, and he gestured to the inscriptions. "Do you know what it all means? Can you read any of this?"
Before she could answer, Alicia stepped in, her voice sharp but calm. "Sir Andrew, this is neither the time nor place for a history lesson. Whatever answers you're looking for can wait until the mission is complete."
Andrew straightened, a faint flush of embarrassment creeping over his face. "You're right. My apologies." He gave the knight a polite nod and stepped back.
The female knight returned to her place, her quiet demeanor leaving an air of mystery that lingered as the group resumed their march.
As they moved further across the bridge, the oppressive stillness pressed harder against their senses. The faint glow of the inscriptions seemed to grow stronger, pulsing faintly in rhythm with their steps.
Then it came.
A deafening scream ripped through the cavern, freezing the group in their tracks. It was a deep, guttural roar, raw and menacing, reverberating through the void like a warning from the abyss itself.
Ray's heart pounded, but not from fear. A surge of strange exhilaration coursed through him, igniting a spark of thrill in his veins. Around him, however, his comrades were paralyzed, their faces pale and stricken with terror. Some clutched their weapons, hands trembling, while others could barely breathe, rooted to the spot.
A moment later, a faint, rhythmic rumble echoed from the darkness ahead. The sound grew steadily louder, like a giant heartbeat reverberating through the void. The bridge beneath their feet trembled slightly as the noise approached.
A shadow emerged from the mouth of the cave ahead. It was vast, its outline distorted by the flickering torchlight, but as it stepped forward, its form became terrifyingly clear.
A colossus stood before them, towering nearly 20 meters tall. Its head was that of a bull, with matted black fur and forward-curving horns that glinted in the dim light. Its crimson eyes burned like smoldering coals, emanating a malevolent aura that made the air itself feel heavier. Steam poured from its nostrils, each exhale accompanied by a low, rumbling growl.
The creature's humanoid body was grotesquely muscular, every inch of it a testament to brute strength. Its veins bulged like cords beneath its scarred, leathery skin, and it gripped an enormous iron war hammer, easily the size of its own massive frame.
It stopped at the edge of the bridge, standing between the party and the cave beyond. Its presence alone radiated menace, yet it did not attack. It stood like a sentry, guarding the entrance to its domain.
"By the gods…" Sir Andrew muttered, his voice low and filled with disbelief. "It can't be."
Then, louder, he shouted, "It's a Minotaur!"
The name rippled through the group, drawing gasps and whispers of dread.
"Listen to me!" Sir Andrew barked, his voice cutting through the panic. "Minotaurs are territorial creatures—they guard their domains fiercely, but they don't attack unless provoked. If we retreat now, there's a chance it won't pursue us!"
Andrew's voice cut through the rising panic. He commanded "Everyone, fall back! Slowly! Do not provoke it. Mages, begin casting a barrier spell—put every ounce of mana you have into it!". then after some deep thought sir Andrew started casting an offensive spell as the last resort if things go wrong
The Minotaur released another scream, louder and more furious than the first. The sheer force of it sent several adventurers to their knees, clutching their ears. Blood dripped from the ears of some as they struggled against the overwhelming dread.
"Hold your ground!" Alicia Roman commanded, her voice steady and firm, but the weight of fear proved too much for some. A few adventurers broke ranks, retreating in blind panic. Their frantic movements disrupted the mages, whose half-formed barrier spell collapsed.
One of the younger mages, trembling violently, stood frozen. His wide eyes darted between the Minotaur and his scattered comrades. Desperation overtook him, and he fired a bolt of raw magic at the creature, the spell dissipating harmlessly against its thick hide.
The Minotaur's crimson eyes narrowed, its massive frame tensing. It released a low growl before stepping forward, its war hammer raised menacingly.
"Fool!" Sir Andrew shouted, fury flashing across his face. "You've provoked it now!"
Turning to the remaining mages, he bellowed, "Prepare for combat! Use every ounce of mana you have left!" while casting the magic of his own.
Alicia barked sharp commands, rallying the front lines as the Minotaur began its deliberate advance. The ground beneath its steps made shocks to the floor, its crimson gaze locked on the party.
Sir Andrew's incantation reached its crescendo. The fiery energy around his staff solidified into a blinding sphere of light, casting long shadows across the bridge. His voice thundered as he unleashed the spell, the words of the incantation echoing through the cavern like a war cry.
"Infernal Judgement!"
The spell struck the Minotaur with an explosive force, a massive pillar of fire erupting from Sir Andrew's staff. A deafening bellow ripped through the air, the Minotaur's cry of pain echoing through the cavern. The sheer impact of the spell sent the creature reeling backward, its enormous body crashing into the stone bridge with a tremendous thud. The force of the blow cracked the ground beneath it, sending a series of deep fissures snaking across the bridge's surface.
The creature's legs buckled, and it collapsed, falling flat on its back, its war hammer slipping from its grasp and rolling off to the side. For a long, breathless moment, there was nothing but silence. The adventurers stood frozen, their eyes wide with disbelief as they watched the colossal creature, now lying motionless at the edge of the bridge.
The sight was nothing short of astounding. No one had expected the Minotaur to fall so easily—after all, it had seemed like an unstoppable force. Yet there it was, its massive form sprawled across the stone floor, smoke still rising from the scorched remnants of its thick hide.
Ray stood there, eyes fixed on the fallen beast, his mouth dry. The adrenaline that had surged through him moments earlier now ebbed away, replaced by awe. It felt unreal, like something out of a dream. They had just faced a monster of legend, and in one fell swoop, Sir Andrew had brought it to the ground.
Around him, the rest of the group was similarly stunned, their eyes locked on the Minotaur's still form. The silence stretched on for what seemed like an eternity,
It was Alicia Roman who first broke the stillness, her voice barely a whisper. "Did... did that just happen?"
Andrew, still catching his breath, lowered his staff, the glow fading from the tip. He stood tall, his expression unreadable, but there was a hint of satisfaction in his eyes. "It's over," he said, his voice steady, though a touch of weariness crept into his tone. "At least for now."