"Huff... Huff..."
The walls of the grotto echoed with my ragged breaths as I pushed myself beyond what I thought were my limits.
I was reduced to a state reminiscent of the undead.
Dragging myself across the cold, damp stone, each movement a struggle for my deteriorating state.
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As I crawled forward, puddles of water reflected back a harrowing image of myself—broken and desperate.
My eyes felt sunken, surrounded by dark circles from pain and blood loss.
My skin had turned a ghastly pale far more pronounced then previously.
Each movement was agony, dragging my battered body inch by painful inch toward what I hoped was a way to escape from this nightmare.
The idea of dying here, lost in the dark, forgotten corners of a virtual hell made real, spurred me on, driving me to crawl forward despite the pain.
As I struggled forward, desperate though swirled through my mind on how to lessen the pain.
One wild thought was to use my own slimes as a makeshift bandage, wrapping their gelatinous bodies around my wounds.
However, I quickly dismissed this idea. Despite their utility, these slimes were essentially beings of ooze—repulsive and potentially hazardous.
Using them as bandages felt similar to picking up a filthy rag from the street and pressing it into an open wound.
The risk of introducing unknown bacteria''s was too great.
Their viscous bodies could harbor all sorts of contaminants, and exposing my raw wound to such an uncertain element might only lead to severe infection.
The thought alone was chilling, akin to inviting more trouble on an already dire situation.
Instead i had both of my slimes position themselves similarly to before, one behind and one ahead.
While i pushed myself to crawl forward without their assistance.
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<td style="width: 99.3644%">Status Ailment [Bleeding] still in progress.</td>
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Time dissolve into a murky blur as I crawled through the grotto.
My perception of how long I''d been moving was lost to the constant, grueling effort.
Eventually, the sensation in my legs faded entirely, leaving me to rely solely on the strength of my arms, pushing forward one agonizing inch at a time.
Despair had settled in deep; I was well aware of the grim reality of my situation.
There were no medicinal herbs within reach, nothing in the immediate environment that could provide relief or a cure.
if I stumbled upon another monster in this state, survival was unlikely.
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<td style="width: 99.3644%">Status Ailment [Bleeding] still in progress.</td>
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Yet, despite the overwhelming odds, I couldn''t bring myself to surrender to fate.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
The only sliver of hope left was the remote possibility of encountering another person.
It was a long shot, a near-impossible chance given the vast and treacherous expanses of the dungeon. But what else was left to me?
My consciousness, wouldn''t allow me to simply lie down and wait for the end.
So, I continued, dragging myself toward the uncertain promise of human contact.
To find someone or something that could offer a reprieve or aid. It was a thin hope, but it was all I had left.
I had never been one to rely on prayer; I always believed in concrete action and tangible solutions.
Yet, I began to understand why some clung to faith in moments of desperation.
There, in the depths of my despair, I found myself silently calling out for a miracle, for any sign of divine intervention.
The idea that a higher power might look down and see fit to offer aid was a wishful thinking.
It wasn''t so much a devout prayer but a plea—an acknowledgment of my vulnerability and a request for mercy, however unlikely.
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WARNING: Your health is critically low! Immediate medical attention is required!
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I whispered into the darkness, half to myself, half to any force that might be listening, "If there''s anyone.... or anything out there,... now would be a great time to show up."
As I sat there in the suffocating darkness, my body trembling from exhaustion and blood loss, the weight of everything pressed down on me.
The cold stone beneath me felt like it was leeching away what little strength I had left.
My mind teetered on the edge, swinging wildly between holding on and letting go.
I clenched my fists, but even that small act felt monumental. “Why am I even bothering?” I muttered to myself.
The words barely left my lips before doubt came rushing in, clawing at whatever scraps of resolve I had. “What’s the point? I’m just going to die down here, aren’t I?”
For a moment, I slumped forward, the temptation to give in pulling at me. Giving up felt... easier. No more pain, no more struggle. I could just let go, close my eyes, and let it all end.
The thought was strangely comforting, like a whispered in the back of my mind.
But then the fear kicked in. A jolt of panic rippled through me at the idea of quitting. What if I can make it? What if there''s something just around the corner? My mind clung to the hope that maybe—just maybe—there was still a chance.
And then came the backlash. A chance for what? To bleed out slower? To stumble into a monster and die screaming instead of quietly? The bitterness in my own thoughts made my stomach churn.
I dug my nails into my palms, trying to focus. “No,” I muttered through gritted teeth. “I can’t quit. Not like this.” The words felt weak even as I said them, barely enough to stand. But saying them was better than silence, it kept me awake.
The swing came again. Was i just prolonging the inevitable? What was the point in fighting if there''s nothing left to fight for?
I closed my eyes, leaning my head against the damp wall behind me. I wasn’t prolonging the inevitable; I just knew that if I gave up now, I’d never know if I could’ve made it—even if I had tried for just one more second.
The argument raged on inside me, back and forth. One moment I was ready to curl up and let the darkness take me; the next, I was clawing for a reason to keep moving.
My chest felt tight, my breath shallow, and every second stretched endlessly.
It was the soft, insistent nudging of my slimes that finally pulled me out of my spiral.
They bumped against me, almost like they were trying to remind me they were still there, still with me.
Their persistence grounded me, breaking the relentless loop in my mind.
I forced my eyes open, squinting into the void ahead. And then I saw it—faint but unmistakable—a light.
Flickering, warm, and real. A torch. Hope surged through me, shaky and fragile but enough to make me move.
My breath caught. Could it really be people? I hesitated, the doubts trying to creep back in. What if it’s not real? What if it’s just another trick, another dead end?
But this time, I shoved the doubts aside. My slimes weren’t panicking—they were urging me forward. That had to mean something. It had to.
I pushed myself, shaky but determined, and took a step toward the light. Then another.
Each movement was a battle, but with every step, the pull of despair loosened its grip.
Turning all my attention toward the approaching light and the potential rescue it represented.
I ordered my slimes to hide. Realizing the potential risk of revealing them.
"Slime One, Slime Two, hide now!" I whispered urgently.
Understanding the gravity of the situation, they quickly wobbled off to the darker recesses of the grotto, blending seamlessly into the shadows to avoid detection.
As the light drew closer and the voices became clearer, I called out for help.
"H-Help!"
Hoping for the inherent goodwill of human nature to pull me from this dire situation.
Only to realize to late, that i was inside of [Dungeon End].
A place where human kindness was often overshadowed by survival and self-interest.