Chapter 51: Survival for 24 Hours Part 1
The portals cracked open like shattered glass across the ground. Emerald light poured out, and from that light came the stone plant monsters, millions of them. Plant bodies mixed with stone everywhere, glowing green energy in the centre, with green eyes staring with mindless hunger, and weapons made from rock and wood in their hands radiating green energy.
The ground itself trembled beneath their march. It was not an army. It was a natural disaster, an unstoppable avalanche of monsters rolling forward with no end in sight. It was a force that far exceeded any natural disaster.
Arthur, bleeding heavily with his missing left arm, planted his blade into the ground for support. His face was pale, yet his eyes remained sharp.
"Ank," he shouted to Ank, "listen to me carefully. Don't think about killing them all. That's impossible. Survive. Every second you endure brings us closer to tomorrow." He tightened his grip on his sword with his one remaining hand.
"The Stone Plant Boss gave us a condition. Twenty four hours. That means there's a chance. And we will not lose this chance. Every second counts."
Ank POV
A chance.
My heart screamed at me that it was a lie. This was a death sentence wrapped in mockery and waiting to devour me completely. How will we survive this?
I knew the old man was on the brink of death and I was completely exhausted, struggling to lift my hands, pain spreading across my body.
When I thought about this, a message popped up in the system.
Special Quest:
[This quest was issued by Creation]
Subquest 1: Survive for 24 hours.
Time Limit: 24 hours
Location: Duskwild
Difficulty: ??????
Reward: Unlock 0.5 percent of your seal for 48 hours.
[Description: You can stop the seal hour countdown at any time and continue from where you stopped your countdown.]
Penalty: Arthur's death and the whole continent destroyed.
Time until quest starts: 3 seconds
System note: Special quests are issued by Creation and Destruction only. These are quests made by the system to help the user according to his situation and also motivate the user so he can complete quests fast.
After watching this quest, I had hoped that if I survived 24 hours, I would surely save Maya and the old man, and my mind was ready to give this a shot. This quest would easily save both of us.
"I… I'll fight," I thought in my mind and picked up a sword from the ground that the old man gave me.
The old man's lips twitched into the faintest smile.
"Good. Then let's show them what it means to face us."
The first wave hit.
Dozens of stone soldiers rushed forward, their heavy steps shaking the ground. They swung their weapons down at me. Their speed was fast.
Clang! Crack!
My sword met theirs. Sparks flew. My arms screamed from the impact. It was like clashing against a mountain.
One soldier lunged from the side. I barely dodged. Its blade hit my shoulder and blood started flowing. Pain shot through me, but I clenched my teeth and countered, thrusting my sword into its chest.
The soldier froze. Then its body cracked apart like shattered rock, collapsing into rubble.
One down.
A thousand more were already closing in.
I gasped for air, sweat dripping down my face. My mind screamed in panic.
How will we survive 24 hours?
This was impossible. There were too many.
This was the second time I was afraid of anything, even with my power. I could not survive this assault but I had to survive for Maya and the old man. Then I heard a voice that motivated me.
"Focus, Ank!"
The old man's voice thundered from behind me. Even injured, even missing an arm, he moved like a storm. His sword carved through three soldiers at once, their rocky heads flying into the air before their bodies crumbled.
His presence anchored me. If he could fight like that, what excuse did I have? Why am I afraid?
I roared and swung again. Another soldier collapsed. Then another. Then another.
But for every one fall, five more took its place.
Hour 1
In the first hour, I was only dodging, blocking, and slashing on instinct. My lungs burned, my arms ached, and every breath felt like knives in my chest.
The old man fought like a skilled warrior who had experience fighting in these circumstances. His blade flashed in wide arcs, each swing claiming multiple lives.
His experience was helping him fight multiple enemies at one time, and each of his movements was efficient, deadly. Yet the blood loss from his missing arm slowed him, his breathing growing heavier with every minute that passed.
"Keep your stance tighter!" he barked at me between swings. "Don't waste motion. Surviving means a new dawn."
I bit my lip until it bled, forcing myself to obey. Slowly, each strike became smaller, more precise. I aimed for weak points like the glowing cracks in their chests, their neck joints, the backs of their knees.
The ground soon became littered with rubble, corpses of stone plant soldiers crunching beneath our boots. But the tide never slowed.
I lost count after a hundred kills. My arms were in extreme pain, but from the portals more and more kept coming without stopping.
One hour down.
Twenty three more.
The thought nearly broke me.
Hour 2
By the second hour, my body was drenched in sweat and blood, both mine and my opponents'. My sword slipped in my grip more than once. My hands were losing their strength to swing, but I refused. I remembered my goal, why I was fighting, and moved once again without any other thought, only my goal.
The soldiers were relentless. They didn't tire. They didn't fear death. They only advanced.
The old man staggered once, nearly falling to his knees. I caught him with my shoulder, parrying a strike that would have taken his head.
"Master!"
"I'm fine!" he snarled, slashing back with a burst of strength. The stone plant soldier's head was cut from his body.
But he wasn't fine. His face was pale, his lips were covered in blood because he was continuously biting them so the pain could reduce. The wound from his missing arm still bled, despite the cloth he had tied around it.
I wanted to scream at him to stop, to rest, but I knew he wouldn't. If he stopped, we would both die.
That realization lit a fire in me. I had to fight while protecting the old man. I had to fight harder.
So I did.
Every swing became fueled by desperation. I tore through the soldiers with wild force, my blade cutting their rocky bodies, my voice hoarse from screaming.
Still, the pressure never eased.
The endless clashing of stone against my sword echoed in my ears until it was all I could hear.
My muscles screamed for rest, my vision blurred, but I forced myself to keep moving. If my healing could not help me, I would have already collapsed.
And I was once the Emperor of the Universe.
I will not lose like this.