7.

Blood gushed from Piya's mouth, her life hanging by a thread.

With trembling hands, Gilmore cradled her fragile form, urgently administering health potions, antivenom, and a special potion to counter the poison.

"Please, Piya, hold on! Don't you dare leave me now," Gilmore pleaded, his voice laced with panic as he desperately tried to get Piya to drink the potions Larion had given him.

Coughing up more blood, Piya's body trembled as the potions began to take effect.

But Gilmore knew he had to do more to save her. He needed to staunch her wounds, to halt the bleeding.

In a soft, weakened voice, Piya managed to muster a question. "Wh-where's L-Larion?" Another fit of coughing wracked her body, spattering more blood onto her lips.

"Take it easy, Piya. You're safe now. Just trust me and Larion," Gilmore reassured her, his voice filled with determination.

Amidst the clang and clash of blades, Piya's gaze shifted towards the source of the commotion. There, she witnessed Larion locked in a fierce battle with the monstrous Qizir.

Every parry, every slash reverberated through the air, creating a symphony of steel.

Larion stood his ground, facing the monster head-on with his dual blades, his skill evident in every move.

His agility was unmatched as he effortlessly evaded the monster's weakened attacks.

Though he endured a few slashes from the monster's bone sword, it did little to deter him from launching his relentless assaults, buying precious time for Piya and Gilmore.

From her vantage point, Piya marveled at the sight before her. Larion's graceful movements resembled a dance, his dual blades spinning, thrusting, and twirling through the air.

Each blow he delivered pushed the monster further back, creating a growing distance between them.

Sliding beneath the monster's legs, and leaping over its towering form, Larion unleashed a flurry of kicks, punches, slashes, and stabs.

It was as if he had transcended the skills of a mere novice adventurer, embodying the experience and mastery of a true warrior.

The monster let out a mighty stomp, shaking the very ground beneath it.

Larion, quick on his feet, leaped back to avoid the impact, planting his sword firmly into the earth to steady himself.

With a burst of determination, he charged forward once more.

With his right arm extended, his sword poised at a daring angle, and his left arm at his side, Larion closed in on the weakened beast.

The monster's eyes never left its foe, its legs lashing out in a futile attempt to halt Larion's advance.

But he's skillful, gracefully sidestepping each attack with ease.

And in one swift motion, Larion's blade found its mark, slicing clean through the monster's front left leg.

A burst of green goo oozed from the dismembered limb, but Larion didn't let up.

He pressed on, his relentless assault weakening the monster further.

With its front legs gone, the creature's once agile body now sagged low. Distracted by the pain, it was left vulnerable.

Seizing the opportunity, Larion thrust his sword into the monster's side, just beside its gaping maw.

The monster roared in agony, hoisting its heavy body and lashing out with its poisonous pedipalps in a desperate attempt to strike back.

But Larion was prepared, raising his swords high above him, forming a formidable defense against the deadly assault.

With a feeble attempt like that, it was child's play for Larion to parry and push back the sharp pedipalps of the ferocious monster.

His body, exhausted and pleading for rest, screamed in protest. But Larion's determination to press on was unwavering.

"Larion! My axe!" Gilmore's voice echoed through the chaos as he sprinted towards the battleground.

Caught off guard by his shouting comrade, Larion made a grave mistake, creating a window of opportunity for the monster.

It wasted no time in seizing the advantage, swiftly adapting and lunging towards Larion, ready to deliver a fatal blow.

Thankfully, Larion's instincts kicked in just in time to block the impending attack.

But alas, he was a second too late, and the monster's bone sword left a scar across his left eye.

Temporarily creating distance between himself and the monster, Larion's attention turned to Gilmore, who was now in imminent danger.

With urgency in his voice, Larion shouted, "Run! Get out of here, Gilmore!"

But the monster, cunning and aware of Larion's intentions, shot out a web that ensnared Larion, rendering him immobile.

Gilmore, seeing the monster hurtling towards him, swiftly released the mace that Piya had entrusted to him, hoping to fend off the impending assault.

However, the creature leaped through the air, pouncing on Gilmore and sending him crashing to the ground with a resounding impact.

Its other legs aimed to stab the helpless man beneath, while its bone swords swung with lethal intent.

In a stroke of misfortune, the monster leaped once more, launching a web that ensnared Gilmore in mid-air.

The web, attached to the creature, hoisted the defenseless man up, only to impale him on its bone swords, piercing his chest.

Larion, still struggling to break free from the suffocating web, let out a gasp as he witnessed the horrifying sight. "Gilmore!" he cried, his voice filled with anguish.

And then, in a final act of savagery, the monster severed Gilmore's arms and chest from his body with a single, merciless slash.

Blood gushed forth, and a hoarse cough sent crimson droplets into the air.

Helpless, Larion could only watch as the monster callously discarded the remnants of his fallen comrade.

Larion was caught in a sticky situation, literally.

Struggling to break free from the web that ensnared him, he desperately wielded his sword, hoping to cut through the sticky strands.

He knew that if he didn't escape soon, the monstrous creature would surely be drawn to Piya.

The creature, having disposed of Larion's chest-less companion, tore the axe from its torso and plucked the spear from its mouth.

It then proceeded to devour the lifeless body, savoring every morsel to replenish its strength after the fierce battle.

Larion seized this moment to gather his thoughts, but the constricting web limited his options.

Cutting through the sticky threads seemed to be his only way out.

With his arms pinned to his sides, he tightly gripped his sword and attempted to maneuver his hand to slam the sharp edge of the blade against the web.

Suddenly, an idea struck him. Determination glimmered in his eyes as he rose to his feet, positioning the sword with its sharp edge facing upwards.

With arms still tightly pressed against his sides, he placed the blade across his body.

Taking a deep breath, Larion then swiftly dropped to the ground, using his weight to slice through the web.

The satisfying sound of the web being severed filled the air, but it came at a cost.

A shallow cut marred his belly, evidence of his daring escape.

As the monstrous creature feasted on the remains of his fallen companion, Larion didn't waste a single moment.

Despite the pain, he remained low to the ground, scanning the area for any sign of Piya.

Larion's heart pounded in his chest as he caught sight of Piya lying motionless.

Fear gripped him, knowing that any sudden movement might alert the ravenous beast to their presence.

But Larion wasn't about to let his friend become the monster's next meal.

Summoning every ounce of courage he had left, Larion rose to his feet, determination burning in his eyes.

The monster, having just devoured his companion's legs, turned its gaze towards Larion, as if sensing an imminent threat to its existence.

It was a standoff, a battle of wills. Larion took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on the severed body of his fallen comrade.

Rage and anger surged within him, fueling his resolve.

A voice whispered in his mind, urging him to unleash his old self.

Adrenaline coursed through his veins, his heart racing as he assumed his battle stance.

His weary body and the throbbing pain from his wounds couldn't hold him back.

His purpose was clear - to vanquish the monster once and for all.

"Go crazy," his mind repeated, like a mantra driving him forward.

The words echoed in his head, stirring a primal bloodlust that begged to be set free.

Years of pent-up anger, rage, despair - all these emotions melded together, propelling him forward.

His past experiences in life in the real world fueled his body, surging from beneath its very core.

His mind became clouded with a singular thought: to kill.

Larion found himself at a loss, his mind devoid of any plans or tricks to rely on.

With his comrades fallen or wounded, the responsibility to defeat the monstrous creature fell squarely on his shoulders.

Survival, the safety of Piya, and his desire to thrive were the only things driving him forward.

Gripping his swords tightly, Larion assumed his battle stance and locked eyes with his foe.

What was once a determined gaze now held a glint of something darker - the intent to kill.

A surge of bloodlust and rage clouded his mind as he swiftly darted to the side, drawing the monster's attention away from Piya.

His eyes fell upon an unlit torch, an idea forming in his mind. This was his chance to lead the beast astray.

With a quick motion, he signaled his direction to the monster, which followed him, charging forward with relentless speed.

Finally facing each other, the monster likely assumed Larion was reaching for the torch to use it as a weapon against it.

But the truth was far from that. A maniacal smile escaped Larion's face, his eyes widening like a lunatic.

"Gotcha now!" he exclaimed, bursting into a maniacal laugh as he slid beneath the monster, attempting to slash at one of its legs.

The creature sensed his movement and reacted swiftly, shooting webs in Larion's direction.

However, Larion anticipated this, rolling skillfully to avoid getting ensnared.

Back on his feet, Larion rushed towards the spot where the monster had thrown Gilmore's axe, with the beast hot on his heels.

Evading every slash of the monster's bone sword and its sharp, pointy legs, Larion continued his relentless evasion until he reached Hubert's lifeless body.

Seizing the opportunity, he picked up Hubert's shield.

Returning to the torch, Larion halted and fixed his gaze upon the monster, which was still chasing him.

It rushed towards him, closing the distance rapidly.

With perfect timing, Larion made his move.

Holding the shield in front of him as a barrier, he charged at the monster and hurled the axe towards it.

The creature, known as the Qizir, saw the attack coming and swiftly evaded the flying axe.

It then leaped towards Larion, forcing him to lie flat on the ground.

Just before the Qizir could pounce on him, Larion discreetly reached for his last smoke bomb, concealing it behind the shield.

As the monster relentlessly attacked from above, he activated the smoke bomb then threw the shield at the side then bit the wooden casing for him to hold it, enveloping them both in a dense cloud.

The Qizir, unwilling to endure the smoke once more, backed away cautiously. This momentary respite gave Larion the opening he had been waiting for.

Seizing the opportunity, he plunged his blade into the monster's abdomen and held on with unwavering determination.

A deafening growl erupted from the Qizir as the smoke surrounded them.

Larion refused to release the smoke bomb, biting down on its wooden casing while still clutching both of his swords.

He continued to stab the creature countless times with one of his hands, causing it to leap and thrash in an attempt to dislodge him.

But Larion held on with an iron grip.

As the smoke gradually thickened, the monster's movements grew sluggish, dizziness setting in.

Now was the time to strike.

Without a second thought, Larion sliced open the spider-like creature, its viscera splattering over him.

Yet, this did not deter him. The Qizir, rendered immobile by its open abdomen, threatened to trap him beneath its collapsing body.

Larion, the nimble one, effortlessly evaded the monster's lunging attack, gracefully finding his way to its hulking back. His keen eyes spotted two stone spears protruding from the creature's flesh, and with a swift pull, he yanked them free.

With a surge of determination, Larion plunged the spears deep into the monster's back, ensuring that it would not escape once the dense smoke dissipated.

The once formidable creature now lay before him, its limbs severed and immobilized.

A mischievous grin tugged at Larion's lips as he relished the sight of the fearsome beast reduced to powerlessness, unaware of what fate awaited it.

As the monster slowly writhed its body, attempting to free itself from its hopeless predicament, Larion reveled in the possibilities that danced through his mind.

The smoke had proven to be a game-changer, disorienting the creature's senses and leaving it in a state of bewilderment.

Without this advantage, the battle would have been far more perilous for him, or worse, dead.

But now, the time had come for Larion to bring an end to the monster that had devoured two of his companions and left another grievously injured.

With measured steps, he advanced, ready to mete out justice and ensure that no more lives would be claimed by this merciless creature.

Now, he stands resolute behind the monstrous creature's human-like upper body, his feet perched upon the cephalothorax.

With a steely determination, he tightly grips the spear once more, thrusting it into the cephalothorax with a forceful strike, not once but twice.

The beast emits a guttural growl of agony, its discomfort palpable as the spear sinks deeper into its flesh.

Larion swiftly retrieves his sword from his back, expertly wrenching the monster's human head backward.

The creature's malevolent gaze locks onto Larion's face, a menacing glare accompanied by a twisted, maniacal smile.

Deliberately, Larion proceeds to impale the tip of his sword into each of the monster's eyes that adorn its human-like visage.

He savors the perverse pleasure of inflicting pain upon the wretched creature.

With each piercing thrust, the monster convulses in torment, its body wracked with agony, each growl escaping as a testament to the suffering it endures.

Larion shows no mercy, continuing his merciless assault upon the monster.

Slowly, he methodically saws through the arms of the humanoid torso using his sword as a grim instrument.

Finally, with the monster on the brink of death, he commences the grisly task of decapitation, methodically severing the head with a slow, deliberate motion, akin to a gruesome saw.

Green viscous fluid oozes from the wounds, staining the ground with its vile presence.

In a final act of confirmation and triumph, Larion preserves the monster's severed head and pedipalps as trophies, tangible proof of his hard-fought victory over a fully grown Qizir.

To ensure the finality of the creature's demise, Larion retrieves a torch, setting it ablaze before bringing it in close proximity to the monster's lifeless form. Flames engulf the body, consuming it with merciless fervor.

~~~

As the morning sun peeked through the smoke and trees, Piya stirred awake, only to be greeted by an acrid stench that assaulted her senses.

It was the smell of burnt flesh. Her eyes darted around the room, trying to locate the source of the dreadful odor.

And there it was, the Qizir, reduced to a charred corpse.

A mixture of relief and sadness washed over her, knowing that they had triumphed over the monstrous creature.

With her body still bandaged and her movements restricted, Piya mustered all her strength to crawl towards Larion, who sat silently, his gaze fixed on the rising sun.

As she drew closer, the sight that greeted her was devastating.

Half of the once vibrant forest now lay in ruins, consumed by fire, its smoke billowing into the sky.

Piya's heart ached, not just from her injuries, but from the loss of her friends.

She noticed two mounds of dirt in front of Larion, serving as makeshift graves for Hubert and Gilmore.

On top of each mound rested a rock, along with the adventurers' cherished necklaces.

"I couldn't save them," Larion's voice quivered with sadness, barely audible. "They both fought bravely, you know," he added, his tone heavy with regret.

Piya could no longer contain her grief, her tears streaming down her face as she crawled onto the graves of her fallen comrades.

The weight of her helplessness washed over her, a stark reminder of the moments she had missed while she was unconscious.

Memories of their adventures together flooded her mind—their shared laughter, the challenges they overcame.

She remembered their first meeting in Sherster City, the warmth of their welcome making her feel like an instant part of their family.

Her cries grew louder, echoing through the forest as she thought of the families Hubert and Gilmore had left behind.

How could she face them, knowing she couldn't protect their loved ones?

She nestled herself between the mounds of dirt, clutching them tightly, letting her tears flow freely as she mourned their loss.

Larion watched Piya, her anguished cries piercing his heart.

The sight of her grieving for their fallen friends made him question the nature of their reality.

Was this truly just a game? The raw emotions, the tears, the overwhelming grief—all felt so real to him.

In his mind, the line between the virtual world and their own began to blur, leaving him with a haunting question:

"Is this really just a game?"

~~~

Larion and Piya, battered and bruised, made their way back to the city, leading a horse with no rider.

Larion, atop Hubert's black horse, rode through the city, attracting curious gazes from the townsfolk.

Behind him, a tangle of monster parts was stuffed into a cloth bag, the pedipalps carefully covered.

The horse trotted on, its burden secure on its back.

Without a word, Larion and Piya entered the Adventurers Hall and tied their horses up outside.

As they stepped inside, they were met with a sea of inquisitive looks from the other adventurers.

Aira, the receptionist, rushed over to them, her face etched with concern.

"Oh, for the love of Eion, what happened to you, Larion?" Aira fretted.

Larion dumped the bag on the floor, revealing the severed head of the Qizir and the pedipalps that tumbled out.

The room fell silent as Aira peered into the bag.

With a gasp of disbelief, she exclaimed, "That's the severed head of a fully grown Qizir!"

The commotion attracted the attention of everyone in the hall.

They gathered around to witness the incredible feat accomplished by two novice adventurers.

Some whispered in disbelief, suggesting that Larion and Piya must have received help from a more experienced ally.

Piya, furious at the rumors, stepped forward and presented the adventurers' necklaces of her fallen comrades as evidence.

She also produced the official documentation of their quest to hunt down a Qizir Spawn.

Aira hastily cross-checked the records, confirming that Larion and Piya had indeed accepted the quest.

Sadly, two of their party did not survive the encounter.

Aira looked at them, her voice filled with concern. "What happened to the Qizir Spawn?"

Larion met her gaze with a steely resolve. "It grew," he replied, his words hanging heavy in the air.

A collective gasp swept through the room. They all knew that spawns could grow into full-grown Qizirs if they had enough to feast on, whether it be animals or humans.

And the rumors spread like wildfire among the adventurers, whispers floating in the air like mischievous spirits.

Some of the seasoned, high-ranking heroes claimed that it was all true.

But of course, there were still doubters, skeptics who couldn't quite wrap their heads around the incredible feat Piya and Larion had accomplished.

Yet, those doubters were quickly silenced when they laid eyes on the battle scars etched upon Piya's back.

Four fang wounds, a chilling reminder of the dangers they had faced. Piya and Larion had the proof, and it spoke volumes.

Concerned for their well-being, Aira, with a voice filled with genuine worry, urged them to head straight to the clinic.

Without a second thought, Piya and Larion followed Aira, their guide through this tumultuous journey.

Inside the clinic, the wounded adventurers were met with a compassionate healer.

Their injuries were tended to with meticulous care, as the healer cast healing magic and offered them health potions.

It was a different kind of game, this Titan's Advent.

A mere swig of a health potion not only restored their vitality but did not mend their wounds.

After the healing session, the healer advised Piya and Larion to take a well-deserved rest, at least for a week.

It was a necessary respite, a chance to recover and gather their strength once more.

With gratitude in their hearts, Piya and Larion bid farewell to the healers and made their way down the hallway to their respective rooms.

The atmosphere was heavy, a cloud of sadness hanging over them like a dark veil.

In a hushed tone, Piya spoke, her voice tinged with both sorrow and determination.

"I think I'm done with adventuring. It's too painful to form attachments, only to see them torn away."

Larion simply nodded, his eyes filled with understanding and respect for Piya's decision.

As Larion reached his room and opened the door, he turned to face Piya.

"I wish you all the luck in the world, my friend. Thank you for allowing me to be a part of your journey, even if it was our last."

As Larion bid farewell to Piya, he found himself alone in his room.

It was a cozy space, with a rustic touch.

The walls were adorned with wooden panels, and the floor was a sturdy concrete.

A wide window allowed the warm sunlight to filter in, casting a soft glow over the room.

The door was a masterpiece, beautifully designed and intricately carved.

Feeling a mix of exhaustion and curiosity, Larion made his way toward the wall where a mirror hung.

He looked at his reflection for a moment, taking in the weariness etched on his face.

In a gesture of respect and remembrance, he gently placed two necklaces, symbols of his fallen comrades, beside the mirror.

They served as a constant reminder of the sacrifices made during his journey.

Returning to his bed, Larion couldn't help but wonder about the strange turn of events.

He opened his skill options menu and was surprised to find new abilities listed there.

These were skills he saw from his fallen comrades.

It was all so bewildering. Larion knew he possessed no elemental powers, so how could he acquire these skills?

The confusion started when he stumbled upon some peculiar stones and glowing scrolls while burying his fallen comrades.

As he touched the stones and scrolls, it vanished into thin air, leaving him puzzled and amazed.

And just like that, his skill option menu updated, displaying the newfound abilities before his very eyes.

After looking back on what happened, one question he asked to himself.

"What in the world does all this mean?" Larion muttered to himself, the question echoing through his mind.