Stupendous Adventurer, Part Two

With a stressed smile, he pulled the cowl from his face, unveiling his presence as he was able to breathe once more. As he appeared visibly in the middle of the chamber of scarlet trees, there was no change in the four-armed fiend's expression. 

'So, it knew I was here the entire time–I was right. Scary,' he thought. 

"Huh…? Who…?" The wounded adventurer gasped out. 

Bastian stood between the frightened, likely inexperienced swordsman, giving him a thumbs-up, "I've got this. Get out of here." 

"But…that thing is strong! Unbelievably! M-my…my entire guild got wiped out–in seconds!" The scarlet-armored swordsman explained in a panic, clutching his wounded companion close to his body. 

Bastian sighed, "I know that–I'm a big deal myself. "Dungeon Master": heard of me?"

For a moment, the black-haired adventurer thought about it before seeming to realize, "Yeah…I've heard of you, but still…you don't look in great shape yourself. Besides, you're famous for clearing dungeons, not fighting–" 

"Just get going already, would you?! I'm trying to help you out here!" Bastian snapped, "While you're at it, you better call some backup here, A.S.A.P!" 

The hesitant adventurer looked at the unexpected savior before nodding his head, scooping his friend into his arms before beginning to run the other way. 

"Thank you! I'll find help! Thank you…Dungeon Master!" The swordsman yelled as he rushed out of the chamber. 

Bastian gave a simple thumbs up before turning his attention back to the demon, who remained seated in his wooden throne. 

Flicking his wrist, the tusked guardian tossed the bone it gnawed on to the side as his sharp, golden eyes honed in on the lonesome, exhausted adventurer, "You took that silly relic off. I was wondering when you'd stop shaking in the shadows, little man." 

'It talks? I've heard rumors…' He thought. 

Drawing his dagger from the sheathe on his belt, he squeezed the handle between his fingers, attempting to best compose his tired, aching body before replying, "You're Bakasura, right? The chatter around town didn't do you justice–you're even uglier than I heard." 

The words of provocation left his lips, attempting to buy some meager amount of time as he retrieved something from his belt: the enchanted looking glass, bringing it up to his eye. Though it was hardly necessary to see what level it deemed the floor guardian, he wanted to know for himself. 

[Bakasura] [Lv. 20] 

'Twenty…? Just seeing that number makes me wanna hurl. Guess what's done is done–I'm here, no changing that,' he thought. 

As he awaited the demonic force to lift from the throne with his dagger held up, all he witnessed was a single finger be raised. The onyx nail of the malevolent guardian pointed up before the digit was curled, tapping against the arm of the wooden throne. 

'What is it–?' He wondered. 

The tap echoed through the silent forest, bringing confusion before the sound of leaves rustling became audible from behind him. 

"Hunh–?!" 

He stepped to the left, carried by his sharpened reflexes just as something pierced towards him from above, having swooped in near his head. It scraped against his shoulder, cutting through his fabric and his skin at once. 

"Ngh…!" He winced, rolling to the side as he looked up at what he failed to completely evade. 

It was a crude spear of ivory, seeming too large to originate from anything human, having extended from the bed of branches above the chamber. The blood of the young man ran slick along its pointed edge. 

He moved his hand to the gash on his shoulder in an attempt to console the scorching pain, though was interrupted by the sound of fingers snapping. It was the demonic entity again, forcing the adventurer to swing his gaze side-to-side in preparation of what was coming. 

'--Above!' He realized just then. 

His senses proved accurate as he shot his glance up, witnessing an ivory spike descend from the scarlet leaves. With the little strength left in his body, he rolled backward, still holding his bleeding shoulder as the spike pierced into the soil. 

From the soil, curling in like the ribcage of a buried beast, lances of ivory curved towards the young man. All he could do was scramble to his feet, using his hands against the soil to balance himself as he almost tripped over. 

A laugh bellowed from the one sitting on the throne, amused by the bewilderment and pain suffered by the lonely adventurer. The skin-crawling cackle of the four-armed fiend was inhuman in itself, distorted between high and low pitches. 

'He's laughing at me?' He thought. 

The swarm of spiked bones stopped, with the four-armed figure still remaining seated with a grin. It gave him a moment to catch his breath before hacking up once again, coughing up crimson spit onto his hand. 

He stared at his blood-stained glove, having an uneasy feeling swirling inside of him. 

'Am I going to die?' He thought. 

The foe before him had yet to even treat him as a threat; nothing more than a fly buzzing around. 

'No–I can at least stall it until help arrives. That's why you gave me this gift, Uncle,' he thought, wearing a determined expression once again. 

"Do you believe yourself to be a hero, little man?" Bakasura asked with contempt, grinding his fingernails together, "When I am done with you, I will hunt down that whimpering coward and feast upon his friend in front of him. I'm sure once I begin snapping his fingers and eating them like crackers, he will curse you." 

"Sure, I can't stop you if I die," Bastian responded, "but I'll make sure to stick around long enough that they're long gone, underbite."

There was one last gemstone left in his pouch as he reached his hand into his belt, grabbing the final tool as he squeezed it in his bloody glove. 

"Levin–!" He shouted, finding his body screaming as the incantation was primed. 

Blood spat from his nose and ears like juices squeezed from a fruit as once more, the silver sparks were born. The charged gemstone was thrown forward while the floor guardian remained seated, simply watching the adventurer make his counterattack. 

As he watched the crimson jewel soar through the air, his arm quivered as it felt sapped of all its strength. All he could do was watch with hopeful eyes in those agonizing seconds, still feeling that uneasy swirling in his gut. 

'Why hasn't it moved?' He thought. 

BOOM. 

As the supercharged crystal reached the throne of wood, a fiery blaze expanded in a roaring glory. The chaotic force erupted with a shock wave that expanded through the bleached forest, rippling across the grass as the soil rumbled. 

It pushed against the exhausted caster, who was thrown back by the blast harshly despite planting his feet down firmly. He gasped for air as pressure knocked against his bruised chest, rolling across the grass before finally coming to a stop. 

Between consciousness and the world of black; he found himself flickering between the forcefulness of the shock wave and the heat of the flames and nothingness. 

The shock wave knocked his brain around; consciousness was lost a few times in those few seconds. Whether it was the blast being that powerful, or his body being that exhausted, or both, he couldn't tell–all he did was somehow attempt not to die. 

The adventurer laid there, inhaling desperately like a fish out of water before coughing as he invited embers and smoke into his lungs. With his chest to the dirt, his cheek pressed against the blades of grass, it was a struggle to find the strength to lift himself. 

'...C'mon. It's not time to sleep yet…' He tiredly told himself. 

A boulder laid against his back; the weight of his exhaustion encumbered him, though he slowly lifted himself with his shaking arms. It felt like a miracle that he managed to pick himself up back to his feet; the smoke lured him into another coughing fit as his blood dribbled down onto the grass. 

As if a flame had been burning in his throat, it felt dry and raw from the continuous coughing. The bleached forest was fogged by smoke now, billowing around the scarlet leaves as the adventurer looked across the isolated sector, towards the veil of gaseous gathering. 

"Puny," the accursed voice of the demonic figure rang out. 

A silhouette erupted from behind the smoke, dashing directly in the direction of the exhausted, young man. The ground rumbled with each mighty, yet quick step of the four-armed figure, who grinned as he swept through the chamber in an instant. 

"Nnh–!" Bastian's eyes widened, witnessing one of the floor guardian's arms morph into the brutal shape of a curved greatsword. 

The blade-turned limb swept towards his neck, primed for his exposed skin. It came with such speed, empowered by the ferocity and skin-crawling aura of the grinning demon that the natural instincts of the adventurer forced him to speak without any intent of his own: 

"Levin!" 

He could feel the blood vessels in his eyes straining, reddening as he used the split-second burst of prowess to duck down. 

As the morphed edge swept above his head, the ruthless demon's long, grotesque tongue flopped from its mouth as a look of pleasure was held on its twisted face. 

"I'll cut you up, little man! I'll feast on your intestines while you still draw breath!" Bakasura howled with laughter following his proclamations. 

It was too quick for him to keep up with; the tall, hulking figure, despite its build, surpassed even himself in nimbleness. Before he could move, the demon transformed one of its legs into a black-scaled serpent that lunged its fangs towards him. 

Again, the rapidness of the attack coaxed the word from his raw throat again, "--Levin! Nngah!" 

The vessels in his eyes popped, filling the white with red as he forced his body to fling itself to the side. As he rolled over, he found that the fangs of the unorthodox snake had cut through his coat, having grazed his collarbone. 

'...Fast. He's too fast,' he thought. 

There wasn't any opportunity to properly inspect his new wound as he found the soil rumbling again, witnessing the four-armed demon already in front of him with that twisted grin. Despite how much his body urged him to evade, he instead stood up, directly confronting the nightmarish guardian. 

It laughed in his face, as if his attempt to stand against it was a jest; he ignored its hellish cackling and squeezed his dagger, once more forcing his body to use its bound magic again: 

"Levin!" 

He immediately felt the backlash of the invocation as the blood rushed from his head, gushing from his pores as his muscles contracted. It felt as if his body was teetering on the edge, though he stepped forward, allowing the surge of energy to amplify both his body and dagger. 

'...I've got you! I'll wipe that grin off of your face!' He thought. 

The demonic malefactor had yet to change the shape of his limbs, nor launch an attack of his own; by a stray miracle, the adventurer was faster in that moment. With every last bit of strength he had, he plunged his dagger forward, using his right arm as he bent his elbow, slamming the edge of the empowered blade into the demon's neck before–

CRACK 

"--Huh?" 

Time slowed before his very eyes as he felt his stomach sink to the deepest depths of his being. It was a sight worse than any other; a true nightmare took form. 

The dagger shattered upon contact with the demon's skin, bouncing off without so much as a scratch left. Having his all-or-nothing gambit prove utterly ineffective, he failed to think of any path to victory. 

All the while, that ear-to-ear grin lasted on the demon's face, cackling madly now, twisting the knife that was the adventurer's own incompetence. 

'...It failed. I can't use Levin anymore–I can't even move my body…What do I do? What would you do, Uncle?' He thought desperately. 

His mind ached with desperation, watching the bits and pieces of his blade rain down like snowdrops. 

A force rippled against his body, causing him to stumble back as his bones rattled; it took him a moment to register what had happened, realizing that the demon had simply stomped its foot down onto the soil. 

'That's right. I'm not Blessed,' the thought returned to his mind.