This is the SFW version of the novel without the smol/l*li stuff (it will nuke this novel). For the NSFW version, please visit my Patreon page: https://www.patreon.com/SmallScribble.
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Deep within the labyrinthine corridors of the Nazas Dungeon, two figures sprinted desperately for their lives.
Hanry, the once-shining squire, now looked like a walking practice dummy. His armor was a patchwork of scars and rents, held together more by will than metal. Blood, both old and fresh, stained the once-gleaming white.
Beside him, Miriel, the Saintess of Caelus, was a vision of dishevelment. Her pristine robes were torn and mud-spattered, her holy book clutched to her chest like a lifeline. Her breath came in ragged, painful gasps, face pale with exhaustion.
Their pursuers were a relentless tide.
Slimes rolled and oozed after them, goblins chattered and snapped their teeth, Lightning Wolves crackled with menace, giant Deathweaver Spiders skittered along the walls and ceiling and Mimic Chests lumbered along, their wooden exteriors hiding horrors within.
"H-Hanry…!" Miriel choked out, stumbling badly. Her legs felt like lead weights, her lungs burned like fire. She clung desperately to his hand. "I… I can't… run… anymore…" Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision. "You have to… leave me!"
Hanry glanced back, his face etched with exhaustion and grim determination. "No!" he roared, his voice echoing through the stone corridors. "I will not leave you! The church entrusted me with your safety! The knighthood would be shamed! And… I…" He gritted his teeth. "I refuse to abandon you! Never!"
His fierce declaration sent a strange warmth through Miriel's terror. Despite the dire situation, her cheeks flushed a faint pink.
Then she saw the state of the man – the gaping wounds on his arms and legs, the blood dripping steadily onto the stone floor, the raggedness of his breathing. Her heart clenched.
"Hanry! Look at yourself!" she cried, her voice thick with worry and unshed tears. "You're losing too much blood! You're barely standing! We have to stop! You need healing!"
Guilt washed over her like a cold wave. 'It's my fault… because of me… he's enduring this… I should have healed him before…'
Hanry stumbled slightly, catching himself against the wall. "D-don't worry… about me…" he gasped. "Just… run! I'll… I'll protect you…"
But his words lacked conviction. His movements were slower, clumsier. Blood loss and fatigue were taking a brutal toll.
The horde behind them closed the distance, their monstrous shrieks and growls echoing louder and louder. A Lightning Wolf snapped at Hanry's heels.
"Shit!" Hanry cursed, pulling Miriel forward with a desperate burst of strength. "Faster! We have to move faster!"
But his legs betrayed him. He staggered again, nearly falling. Miriel could see the agony in his eyes, the sheer willpower holding him upright.
"HANRY!" she screamed when a goblin lunged, its knife glinting.
Hanry blocked the blow with his sword, but the impact jarred his wounded arm. He roared in pain, stumbling backwards, dragging Miriel with him.
They were trapped against a wall. The monsters encircled them, a wall of teeth and claw.
Hanry raised his sword, but his grip was weak, his arm trembling. Blood dripped from the new wound on his forearm.
Miriel's tears now streaming down her face. "No… no… please… not like this…" she whispered, her voice lost in the cacophony of their impending doom.