18. Rancor

Seiito's descent into the abyss was nothing short of a nightmare. Every step felt like a plunge deeper into hell, with monsters lurking at every corner, waiting to tear him apart. He had faced horrors beyond imagination—twisted abominations, beasts of scale and shadow—and each time, he had barely survived. His body bore the scars of countless battles, his flesh torn and bruised from close brushes with death.

Yet, somehow, he was still alive.

Each time, it seemed like fate intervened—just before the final blow, something shifted. A rockslide would crush a creature chasing him, or a stray spell would miss by a hair, giving him a fleeting moment to cast [Heal]. He was alive, but not by his own strength. There was no denying it—it wasn't skill that kept him going, but luck. Or was it something else entirely?

It happened too often to be a coincidence.

Seiito's fists clenched tightly as the realization gnawed at him. Someone—or something—was pulling the strings. Each miraculous escape felt less like a blessing and more like a curse. Was he just a puppet in some grand scheme? Was he being saved for some cruel reason?

His teeth ground together in frustration. He hated it. The constant need to rely on these miracles felt like shackles binding him to weakness. Every time he was saved, it only reminded him how powerless he truly was.

He glared at his hands, hands that glowed with the gentle light of healing magic. His class, his accursed Healer class—it was supposed to save lives, but all it did was hold him back. He had no offensive power, no strength to fight head-on. Every battle, he was forced to play the role of the weakling, stuck in the back while others did the fighting. It enraged him.

"Why… why can't I fight?" Seiito's voice was barely a whisper, laced with bitterness.

His mind swirled with frustration and helplessness. He wasn't content to just survive anymore. He wanted to stand at the front, to wield power that would crush his enemies without relying on anyone or anything else. But all he had was [Heal]—a spell that kept him alive but never allowed him to fight back.

He slammed his fist into the ground. "Just one edge… one way to tip the scales—anything."

The anger surged in him like a fire, the desire for strength burning hotter with every passing moment. He was sick of it—sick of being the weak one.

As Seiito stood lost in his thoughts, a deafening roar reverberated through the labyrinth, shaking the very walls around him. His heart skipped a beat, his instincts flaring to life. That roar—it was unlike anything he had heard before, primal and suffocating, the kind that clawed at your soul and commanded fear.

He froze in place, eyes wide with realization.

A boss.

His breath caught in his throat. If that roar belonged to a floor boss, then he had stumbled into a boss arena. That meant he had unknowingly reached the 50th floor. A cold sweat trickled down the back of his neck. Every tenth floor harbored a monstrous guardian, a powerful entity that had to be defeated in order to descend deeper. He remembered all too well the Devil Centipede that appeared on the lower floors. That thing had nearly ripped him apart. He had only survived because of sheer luck—or was it those damn miracles again?

Whatever awaited him here, he wasn't ready for it. Not by a long shot.

Seiito clenched his fists, his mind racing. The labyrinth's silence only amplified the pounding in his chest. He couldn't face whatever was ahead, not in his current state. The weight of his helplessness hit him hard. He didn't have the power to take down a floor boss—not alone, and certainly not with just healing magic.

He needed to slip past it, evade the fight entirely. His mind sharpened as he glanced around, scanning the labyrinth for any path, any exit that would take him away from this impending death trap. His only chance of survival was to sneak past and descend to the lower floors, where maybe—just maybe—he could avoid drawing the boss's attention.

But he knew one thing: if it noticed him, he wouldn't stand a chance.

"Let's do this…" Seiito whispered, crouching low and moving through the rocks and boulders, his steps deliberate and silent. He had to make as little noise as possible.

He began to move, slowly and surely, his eyes locked on the monstrous figure in the distance. His expression turned sour, and sweat ran down his face as he realized what he was up against.

"A Rancor… I read about this monster… I'm screwed…"

The Rancor stood as a nightmarish hybrid of beast and man—towering at nearly nine feet tall, its hulking form radiated primal power and raw malice. Its body was a grotesque fusion of sinewy muscle and matted fur, the color of dried blood and shadows. The beast walked on two massive legs, its feline paws elongated into twisted, semi-humanoid claws, capable of crushing stone or slashing flesh with terrifying precision.

Its head was unmistakably lion-like, but not with the noble, regal grace of a kingly lion—no, the Rancor's face was the embodiment of feral rage. Its jaws were slightly elongated, filled with jagged teeth stained yellow and red from years of hunting prey. The mane that framed its head was wild and uneven, some parts tangled in knots, others burnt or torn, as if it had fought countless battles and emerged more beast than victor. Piercing, amber eyes burned with relentless hatred and cunning—a predator's gaze sharpened by intelligence.

The arms were disproportionately large, ending in claws that gleamed like obsidian, thick enough to cleave metal and sharp enough to rip through bone in a single swipe. Its biceps rippled with tension, and every movement exuded the promise of violence. Scarred symbols were carved into its forearms—faint traces of an ancient curse or battle markings that hinted at its sinister past.

Its torso was broad and armored with dense muscle, covered in patches of fur so thick they almost seemed like natural armor. At the same time, grotesque scars slashed through the fur in places, exposing tough, leathery skin beneath. The creature's breath escaped in heavy growls, visible even from afar as it steamed in the cold air, an indication of the furnace-like heat that coursed through its monstrous body.

The legs were thick, digitigrade, built for powerful leaps and bursts of speed. When it charged, it closed the distance between predator and prey in an instant, its claws scraping the earth and cracking stone beneath its feet. Its tail whipped wildly behind it, tipped with a tuft of blackened fur, ready to stabilize its movements in combat or use as a secondary weapon.

The Rancor roared with an ear-splitting bellow—a deep, guttural sound that shook the very air. It wasn't just a roar but a declaration of supremacy, a warning to any creature foolish enough to challenge it.

This monster was more than just a brute. It was anger given form, a creature whose very existence embodied rage, destruction, and bloodlust. The Rancor didn't merely hunt; it relentlessly pursued, savoring the fear it instilled before tearing its victims to shreds. To face the Rancor was to confront a beast driven by fury so deep it seemed almost eternal—as if the creature existed solely to express rage through violence.

It didn't just fight to survive; it fought to dominate, to destroy. And once its prey was cornered, there was only one certainty: the Rancor would feast.

Seiito's mind raced, calculating his options. This wasn't some mindless beast he could sneak past—it was a predator, and it was hunting him. There would be no evading it. He had to confront it head-on.

But before he could finalize his thoughts, a sharp gust of wind swept against the back of his neck—an ominous chill that signaled danger.

"Ghh—?!"

In an instant, Seiito's body was airborne, a blur of limbs and chaos. The sheer force of the impact sent him hurtling toward a boulder, the crash leaving a jagged crater in the stone. His ribs screamed with pain, and stars burst behind his eyes.

It found me…?!

Gasping for breath, he forced his hands to his side, chanting a healing spell between pained grunts. Light shimmered briefly around his bruised flesh, sealing some of the damage, but not nearly enough. His entire body throbbed with the weight of each breath.

"Damn it!" Seiito hissed, wiping blood from his lip as he staggered to his feet. His hand fumbled into his pouch, pulling out the last Draknarite—his final weapon, a desperate gamble. His fingers trembled as he held it. There was no room for error. If he could time it right, he might have a chance.

And then—the Rancor appeared.

It was so fast, a blur of muscle and fur that closed the distance in an instant. Seiito barely had time to blink. All he saw was the creature's glowing amber eyes, brimming with rage and malevolent glee.

A clawed hand gripped his face, and before he could even react—

WHAM!

The world spun violently as the Rancor threw Seiito like a rag doll, hurling him across the cavern with terrifying ease. His body hit the ground hard, bouncing and rolling uncontrollably. Each roll felt like another bone cracking, another breath stolen. He tumbled until his battered form collided with another boulder, this time sending cracks spiderwebbing through the stone upon impact.

Seiito's world blurred with a haze of pain and desperation. Every nerve screamed, and every muscle quivered. He coughed, spitting blood, trying to force air back into his lungs. His vision swam, the edges darkening—an abyss threatening to swallow him whole.

"Move…! Get up!" He growled at himself, slamming his fist into the ground, forcing his broken body to respond. He knew if he stayed down, the next blow would be the end. This monster wasn't playing—it was toying with him, savoring every second of his suffering.

His grip tightened around the Draknarite. This was it. One shot.

And the Rancor was already coming for him again—a blur of speed and fury.

"Come on…" Seiito whispered through clenched teeth, every fiber of his being demanding he stay conscious. His heart pounded in his chest, the sound of it drowning out everything else. The beast was closing in—seconds from reaching him again.

"Come on, you bastard!"

His muscles coiled as he prepared to throw the Draknarite. It was now or never.

Seiito hurled the Draknarite with every ounce of strength he had left. His breath hitched as the grenade sailed through the air—this was his last shot, the final gambit.

But then—the Rancor caught it.

The beast's massive claws closed around the volatile ore with terrifying precision. Its sharp grin spread slowly across its leonine face, eyes gleaming with twisted amusement.

It knew.

It knew exactly what Seiito had planned.

For a moment, Seiito's heart stopped. His only weapon, the last hope he had to escape this nightmare, was now in the hands of the monster he needed to kill. The realization sank in like a dagger to the chest—he was exposed, defenseless, standing naked before certain death.

But something deep within him snapped. A spark of defiance ignited, burning away the hopelessness.

"No," Seiito whispered, teeth clenched so hard his jaw ached. Not like this. Not here. Not today.

He wasn't going to die here.

With a wild roar, Seiito launched himself at the Rancor, reckless and desperate. The beast cocked its head, bemused, as if it couldn't believe the audacity of the tiny human before it. Seiito's fist flew toward the Rancor's jaw. It didn't even flinch.

His knuckles collided against the monster's face—and it was like punching a steel wall. A searing pain shot up Seiito's arm, his knuckles splitting open as if he'd struck iron. He cried out, clutching his throbbing hand.

The Rancor grinned wider, a silent taunt. It was toying with him, amused by the pathetic human who dared to fight back. But then—Seiito grinned too.

That caught the Rancor off guard. Its golden eyes narrowed, sensing something was off.

Seiito lunged again, but this time he didn't aim for the beast. His fist shot toward the hand holding the Draknarite—and struck it dead-on.

KABOOM!

The explosion erupted with the force of a thunderstorm, a deafening blast that sent shockwaves through the cavern. Seiito's body was hurled through the air like a ragdoll, slamming into a wall. The stone shattered on impact, spiderweb cracks spreading outward from where he hit. He crumpled to the ground, gasping in pain, his ribs screaming in protest.

Through blurred vision, he spotted the Rancor—the massive beast had been launched backward by the explosion, crashing into a jagged outcrop of rocks. One of the spiked stones pierced its torso, driving deep into its flesh.

The monster snarled, spitting blood onto the ground. Its once-pristine fur was scorched and charred, smoke rising from its burned flesh.

Seiito dragged himself up, leaning against the wall, his lips curving into a grim smile. "Guess you didn't see that one coming, did you?" he muttered under his breath.

He raised a trembling hand and began chanting softly, "Heal." A warm light spread over his injuries, closing the gashes on his arms and easing the agony in his chest. His breath steadied, if only for a moment.

Then came the sound that shattered the brief peace—

"ROOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!!"

The Rancor's roar echoed through the cavern, a sound of pure, unbridled rage. Blood dripped from its wounds, but its burning amber eyes locked onto Seiito with a murderous glare.

It didn't care about the injury, the pain, or the explosion. It only wanted one thing: to tear Seiito apart.

The monster rose to its feet, its claws digging into the dirt as it charged. The ground trembled beneath its steps, the air thick with killing intent.

Seiito wiped blood from the corner of his mouth, his heart pounding against his ribs like a war drum. He knew there was no running now.

The Rancor stormed toward Seiito, its muscles coiled with terrifying strength. Each step was a quake, every snarl a promise of death. The beast's claws glinted in the dim cavern light, eager to rip him limb from limb.

Seiito braced himself, adrenaline screaming through his veins. He wouldn't survive this by running—there was no escape now. With a desperate growl, he yanked a loose rock from the rubble beside him and hurled it at the oncoming monster.

The Rancor didn't even flinch. It batted the stone away with a swipe of its massive arm, sending it hurtling across the cavern like a toy.

Seiito's mind raced. Think. Think, dammit! His mana reserves were dwindling, and his healing spells could only do so much. If he couldn't stop the Rancor's assault, he wouldn't survive another blow.

The beast was upon him now—a blur of fur, claws, and rage. Seiito dove to the side just as the Rancor's massive claw slammed into the ground where he had stood, the impact shattering stone and sending debris flying. He rolled to his feet, panting, his hands shaking from the strain.

The Rancor turned, its golden eyes gleaming with malice. It wasn't just enraged—it was enjoying this.

"You're really into this, huh?" Seiito muttered under his breath, wiping sweat from his brow. His heart pounded harder, as if warning him that the next mistake would be his last.

The monster crouched low, its muscles rippling as it prepared to lunge again. This time, Seiito knew he couldn't dodge.

He reached for a knife strapped to his side—a pathetic weapon he made against something so large, but it was all he had. His fingers wrapped tightly around the hilt, white-knuckled, as he stared down at the creature. If he was going to die, he'd at least land one good hit.

Seiito gritted his teeth, muscles screaming as he raised the blade, ready to plunge it into the monster's neck.

But the beast was faster. Much faster.

Before Seiito could react, the Rancor's claws swiped through the air—aimed not for his chest, but for his arm.

"AHHHHHHHHH???!!"