"Why don't we turn back, boy, and come up with a plan? We still have three days left," Leonidas whispered, his voice raw with pain, fighting against the finality of their predicament.
John took a deep, shuddering breath. He carefully braced himself against the wall and gently slid Leonidas off his back, lowering his grandfather to a seated position on the ground near the wall, ensuring the Clan Lord's head was propped up on a flat piece of stone.
"No. You managed to damage his right shoulder; it is also the same arm he uses to swing the club, so I am assuming he is right-handed," John replied, his focus absolute. He retrieved the dagger and the knife that were given to him by Porto, his hands visibly shaking as he gripped the weapons.
He looked back at his grandfather, who, paralyzed against the wall, could only move his head. "If I die, you are going to die a painful death."
Leonidas, in his agony, nodded slowly. "I know. Like Decker said, he is going to eat me alive; regardless of how this plays out, I'm ready to die." Leonidas knew that John was terrified and noticed his hands shaking. How can this boy possibly win? he thought. He only awakened a few months ago, and now he is going up against a troll that is far stronger than any human he has ever faced.
He then looked up, his thoughts turning to the castle. "Angeline, honey, I am sorry that I cannot keep my promise; I am a failure of a father... If there is an afterlife, I hope I can make it up to you then. Anna, my love, I have faith that you and the rest of the family will be victorious; I know my sons will find out his weakness; however, if you all die, then I don't know how I will make it up to you all."
Leonidas then looked at his own legs and arms. They were dead weight; he could not move them an inch. He had no energy inside his body, and he felt like his whole body was held down by thick iron chains. He thought, "Damn you, Decker. If his plan worked against me, then there is a possibility that he is going to kill my family." It had been a long time since Leonidas felt fear and extreme sadness; he was utterly powerless, and it hurt him to the core.
He then looked at John, who was busy mentally preparing himself. "This boy is my only hope." Leonidas tightly closed his eyes, fighting the tears of despair that wanted to run down his cheeks.
John looked in the direction of the troll, who was still sleeping in a massive sitting position near the passage leading to the cave entrance. John then retrieved his speed-and-strength potions. He started with the speed potion, pulling out the cork with his mouth, and began to drink the entire vial. Afterwards, he drank the strength potion. John could feel a potent, unfamiliar power rushing through his body—his muscles tensing, his vision sharpening, his adrenaline spiking. He looked at Leonidas and simply nodded his head.
John clenched the dagger and the knife tightly in his hands. He started to move slowly toward the sleeping troll, Greyskin, his body buzzing with the raw, unfamiliar power from the potions. He noticed the troll had covered its wound with a dirty, blood-stained cloth—or perhaps the old clothes of a victim—near its injured shoulder. John moved with agonizing care, trying not to alert the beast by stepping on the fragile bones lying everywhere on the ground. He would not repeat the mistake of alerting the creature with a single sound.
As John moved ever closer to the massive sleeping troll, he could feel cold sweat dripping down his back, despite the cave's perpetual chill. After a couple of minutes, he was only a few steps away from the creature's immense, gray mass.
However, this was not John's lucky day; the agonizing wound Leonidas had inflicted on the troll's shoulder began to sting. Greyskin slowly, painfully, started to open its eyes.
The troll looked directly at John. But before the monstrous creature could fully register the small, armed figure before it, the Speed Potion took over. John's body instantly bolted into action, closing the final few steps in a blur. He drove the knife forward and buried it deep into the troll's right eye.
"Aaaahhh!" the troll Greyskin screamed, a deafening sound of pure agony that shook the cavern walls.
Greyskin never expected this weak-looking boy to attack him. "Me going to eat you!" it roared, thrashing. John had already retreated immediately after the successful stab, the potion-enhanced strength lending him unnatural agility.
Greyskin then stood up, slowly pulling the knife from his eye socket. The troll threw the blood-soaked weapon violently to the ground. John now held the single dagger in his hand. He looked the troll directly in its remaining eye and, fueled by adrenaline and the defiant spirit of his old life, gestured for it to come. "Step forward if you want to die," John challenged, quoting a line he'd heard countless times in an anime show he used to watch back on Earth.
The troll growled, snatched its huge club from the ground, and swung the devastating weapon toward John in a furious arc. "Die!"
John's bravado vanished. "Shit," he hissed. He threw his body into a desperate roll on the ground, dodging the massive, sweeping attack. He rolled in the direction where the knife had been thrown, snatched it up, and retreated several steps, buying himself precious distance.
"Fu** you!" John yelled, the curse raw and defiant.
He turned and ran in the opposite direction, forcing the fight into a chase. But the troll, blinded and enraged, was in hot pursuit. Just as John was about to put significant space between himself and the monster, his foot hit a loose rock, causing John to stumble forward. This unfortunate mistake gave the troll enough time.
Bam!
The massive club connected with John's back. The force was devastating, sending John flying. His body smashed hard against the cave wall, and Leonidas—watching the entire desperate fight—could see a small crack splintering the stone where the boy's body had hit. The Clan Lord's eyes were wide with a mix of terror and grudging admiration.
"Boy, stand up!" Leonidas roared, his paralyzed body useless, his voice thick with panic.
John was still lying on the ground, the immense force of the troll's club attack still ringing in his bones. He fought through the nausea, pulling himself up just enough to cough a mouthful of blood onto the cavern floor. The troll, Greyskin, was taking its time, dragging the massive club on the ground as it slowly walked toward the downed boy. "How was that, little man?" Greyskin roared, grinning hideously.
John was in extreme pain, his muscles screaming from the initial blow, but he knew he couldn't stop. He scrambled to his hands and knees, grabbing the knife and dagger he had dropped, and slowly forced himself to his feet.
"Okay, round 2," John muttered, ignoring the pain that shot through his back.
Fueled by the Speed Potion, John bolted toward the troll. Greyskin decided to finish the fight with a devastating downward smash, but the potion allowed John to anticipate the movement. He slid between the troll's massive legs, dodging the club attack by a hair's breadth. John then sprung up and immediately jumped onto the troll's back, stabbing it hard with both his dagger and knife.
John held on desperately, the two weapons buried deep in the flesh of the troll's back. The creature roared in a mixture of fury and agony, dropping its club to the ground and trying frantically to reach the boy. "Get off me!" it shrieked, its hands clawing uselessly at its own broad back.
"Never!" John screamed back, the adrenaline and rage mixing perfectly.
He pulled the knife free while still maintaining his grip with the dagger, then repeatedly stabbed the troll in the back, aiming for any vulnerable spot he could find. "Aaaaahh!" Greyskin screamed, shaking its body back and forth violently.
The troll then displayed a surprising burst of cunning. It bolted toward the nearest wall and slammed its back against the stone. John was caught completely off guard by the tactic, and the sudden, violent slam nearly knocked him unconscious as he was forced to hold on to the dagger with one arm.
Fighting through the dizzying pain, John removed the dagger and began to slide down the troll's back. The blade followed his descent, slicing through layers of muscle and sinew, leaving a jagged, crimson trail in its wake. The troll screamed again, a raw, primal sound of injury.
The troll roared in agony and became furious, ignoring its grievous wounds. Greyskin unleashed a massive punch aimed at the center of John's body, blasting the young boy through multiple stalagmites.
John lay on the ground motionless, the wind knocked out of him. The troll started to scream in victory, "I win, I win, I win." Greyskin then looked around and saw Leonidas sitting against the wall. He started to rub his belly. "Greyskin hungry, vampire man eat." The troll slowly walked toward the Clan Lord. "To think that I am going to be eaten by this lowly creature," Leonidas thought, glaring at the troll with intense, silent fury.
The troll rubbed its hands and licked its lips, savoring the imminent meal, until a voice cut through the air: "Hey ugly, we ain't done yet."
Greyskin stopped and looked around, seeing John standing at another location. Blood leaked from the corner of his mouth, but he was upright. John's vampire fangs were fully extended, his left eye's iris glowed red, and his sclera (the white part of his eye) had turned black, like it was being filled with ink. "I am still standing," John announced, feeling his body surge with raw, potent energy.
Leonidas watched the transformation, his mind screaming that even this wouldn't be enough. The troll, however, grinned, its one good eye dripping blood, and bolted toward John, not realizing the boy was now powered and calculating.
When the troll got into striking distance, John executed his plan. He quickly dashed to the troll's blindside, picked up the discarded club, and, combining the Strength Potion with the power coursing through his body, swung the massive weapon at extreme speed.
John slammed the club with all his might. The force of the impact struck the troll's lower body, and Greyskin's right leg snapped. The troll yelled at the top of its lungs, the agony a new experience. The club shattered on impact, and John tossed the broken wood aside.
Leonidas could not believe the impossible feat he was witnessing.
John walked away from the screaming, crippled troll, making sure to put a safe distance between them. He looked back at Leonidas, and their eyes met. John grinned—a strained, bloody, triumphant grin—and gave his grandfather the middle finger. Leonidas's left eye twitched violently. "This fu**ing brat," he thought, a grudging, resentful acknowledgment of the boy's victory.
John stepped back from the crippled troll, his chest heaving, his hybrid power still surging. He looked down at the snarling, defeated behemoth and decided to issue a final, confident challenge.
"Greyskin, I will spare your life if you leave us alone. Will you do it?!" John shouted, his voice echoing in the cavern.
Greyskin held onto its broken left leg, its face a mask of primal fury. "Never!" it roared.
"Fu*k sakes," John muttered under his breath. He retrieved a lightning elemental stone from his storage ring. He could feel the raw, crackling electricity coursing through his body as he held the stone in his hand. He held out his palm toward the troll; the lightning energy instantly gathered, ready to fire the finishing blow.
In a fatal moment of overconfidence, John quickly glanced back at his paralyzed grandfather, wanting to boast about his impending victory.
"Never turn your attention away from your enemy, you fool!" Leonidas screamed, his voice strained with desperate, powerless panic.
But the warning came too late. That few seconds of boastful distraction had given the troll enough time. Greyskin, fighting through the pain, snatched the discarded, broken club piece from the ground and hurled it directly at John's face.
The heavy, jagged wood struck John with bone-shattering force. The collision not only caused John's prepared lightning attack to miss its mark, but the bolt, now uncontrolled, shot toward the ceiling. A massive explosion could be heard throughout the cavern system, raining debris down on the two figures.
Leonidas clenched his jaw, his eyes wide with disbelief at the crushing defeat caused by a moment of hubris. "Get up, boy! Get up!" he roared, his body still useless against the wall.
John lay on the ground, motionless. Blood gushed from his mouth, his nose was shattered, and he could not find the energy to move a single inch. The last thought that registered in his mind, echoing the crushing finality of the silence, was pure despair.
"It's over."