Chapter 2

The burden of survivor's guilt crushed his spirit. They had fought valiantly, but it hadn't been enough. Now, he was truly alone.

As Ray knelt among the lifeless bodies of his fallen comrades, grief and guilt threatened to consume him. The weight of their sacrifice pressed upon his shoulders, and a surge of emotions coursed through his veins. He questioned his own worthiness and wondered why he had been spared when the others had perished.

But amidst the darkness that threatened to swallow him whole, a spark of determination flickered deep within Ray's heart. The memories of his fallen companions, their courage and unwavering spirit, echoed in his mind. He knew he couldn't let their sacrifices be in vain.

With trembling hands, Ray rose to his feet. The lizardman, the creature that had claimed the lives of his comrades, was still there, its presence a haunting reminder of the battle that had unfolded.

Ray's grip tightened around the black short sword that had been entrusted to him. Its weight felt both comforting and daunting, a symbol of the responsibility he now carried. He knew that he had to confront the lizardman, not just for his own survival, but to ensure that his fallen friends would not have died in vain.

With a mixture of trepidation and determination, confronted the monster. The lizardman, wounded from the previous battle, turned its attention towards him, its eyes gleaming with malice and hunger.

The creature lunged at Ray, its claws slashing through the air with deadly precision. But this time, Ray was prepared. He abandoned defence and thrusted forwards.

Shocked by this suicidal attack, the lizardman shook as it panicked in the air dispersing its velocity as the short black sword danced in his hands, slicing through the lizardman's scales.

Red blood poured out of its chest with no remorse.

Ray flew backwards as his chest collapsed inwards from the force of the lizard's attack.

The lizardman stood up and stared at the sword in shock before refocusing on Ray.

In a final act of desperation, the lizardman unleashed a devastating attack, aiming to end Ray's life. But in that critical moment, Ray's instincts kicked in, and he sidestepped the lethal strike. Seizing the opportunity, he delivered a powerful palm strike, driving the sword deeper into the creature's vulnerable flesh.

The lizardman groaned as it staggered backwards from Ray. Ray screamed as he charged forwards and kicked the sword even deeper causing the hilt to submerge into its body until it was camouflaged by its own scales.

The lizardman let out a final, agonizing roar as its body crumpled to the ground, lifeless. Ray stood there, panting, and covered in sweat, his heart pounding with a mix of triumph and sorrow. He had emerged victorious, but the cost had been high.

Kneeling beside the fallen lizardman, Ray closed his eyes and offered a silent prayer for his fallen comrades. Though their lives had been cut short, their spirits would live on through him. With their memories as his guiding light, Ray vowed to carry on their legacy, to bring justice to the world that had taken them from him.

Hours later, Ray emerged from the depths of the dungeon, his mind and body forever altered by the harrowing experience he had endured. The weight of grief and survivor's guilt still pressed heavily upon him as he dragged his mangled body to the nearest outpost of the Hunters Association, clutching the black sword tightly.

As the employees inside saw him, he sighed in relief and collapsed.

Ray's vision blurred, and his strength failed him as he stumbled into the Hunters Association outpost. With his last ounce of willpower, he managed to utter a weak plea for help before succumbing to the exhaustion that consumed him. The employees rushed to his aid, catching him before he hit the ground.

Concern etched across their faces, the Hunters Association employees carefully lifted Ray and carried him to a nearby medical room. They gently placed him on a comfortable bed, ensuring his safety and comfort. A skilled doctor was summoned to attend to his injuries.

Hours passed, and Ray remained unconscious, his body ravaged by the toll of the battle and the weight of his emotional turmoil. Finally, as the first light of dawn painted the sky, Ray began to stir. His eyes fluttered open, his surroundings unfamiliar and sterile.

A weary but kind-hearted doctor stood at the foot of the bed, observing Ray's awakening. "Ah, you're awake," the doctor said, a hint of relief in his voice. "You took quite a beating out there, young man. You need to rest."

Confusion washed over Ray as he tried to recall the events that had led him to this hospital room. The memories of his fallen comrades and the intense battle with the lizardman flooded his mind, reminding him of his purpose and the weight he carried.

"Rest?" Ray managed to rasp, his voice hoarse and weak. "But... the Hunters Association... I need to speak with them."

The doctor's expression softened, understanding Ray's determination. "I'm afraid that will have to wait. You've suffered stress fractures in your chest, and your body needs time to heal. The battle has taken a toll on you, physically and emotionally. Rest is essential for your recovery."

Ray's heart sank, disappointment mingling with his exhaustion. He had hoped to seek aid and guidance from the Hunters Association, to share his experiences and ensure that his fallen comrades would be remembered. But now, it seemed he would have to wait.

As if sensing his thoughts, the doctor offered a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, young man. The Hunters Association will hear your story when the time is right. For now, focus on healing and regaining your strength. You have a long journey ahead."

Before Ray could respond, the doctor nodded and turned to leave the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the uncertainty that lay before him.

As the door closed behind the doctor, the atmosphere in the room shifted. Two individuals, dressed in the emblematic attire of the Hunters Association, entered silently. Their faces held a mix of curiosity and intrigue as they approached Ray's bedside.

One of them, a middle-aged man with a grizzled beard, spoke with a voice filled with authority. "Ray, is it?" he asked, his eyes piercing into Ray's weary gaze. "We heard you, an unawakened emerged from a dungeon alone, it seems you have achieved the impossible."