Exhausted from the day's events, Victor decided to take a shortcut through a narrow alley to reach the inn faster.
The alley was dimly lit, the fading sunlight barely reaching its cobblestone path.
The walls of the buildings on either side loomed tall, casting the narrow passage in deep shadows.
Victor quickened his pace, his footsteps echoing softly against the stone.
Victor's heart pounded as he stumbled through the narrow alley, his breath coming in ragged gasps. T
he shortcut had seemed like a good idea at the time a way to avoid the crowded streets and get back to the inn faster.
But now, as the damp walls closed in around him and the stench of rot filled his nostrils, He regretted The decision.
The alley was a maze of grime and shadows, the ground slick with filth, and the faint sound of dripping water echoed ominously.
Out of the corner of his eye, Victor spotted a group of figures shrouded in dark robes.
Their clothing bore crimson sigils that glowed faintly under the dim light, and his stomach tightened with dread.
He didn't need to guess who they were demon cultists apart of The Chaos Cultist.
In the novel, In the game, he recalled, we as the players went on raids and destroyed a lot of their bases.
We stopped their plans of summoning the Demon Emperor.
The cultists had been significantly weakened back then, their influence diminished, their numbers scattered. But that was 200 years ago.
Now, standing in this grimy alley, Victor realized he had no idea how strong they were in this era.
He remembered the raids, the battles, the countless hours he had spent strategizing and grinding to take down the cultists.
They had been formidable opponents, their dark magic and fanatical devotion making them a constant threat.
Now, though, Victor was alone. No party to back him up, no respawns, no second chances. Just him, and a pocketknife.
Victor forced himself to remain calm, his mind racing.
These fanatics were notorious for kidnapping victims to use in their sacrificial rituals.
He couldn't afford to draw their attention As He Will Die Fighting Them Right Now.
Acting as though he hadn't seen them, he kept his pace steady, his eyes fixed straight ahead.
But before he could get far—
BOOM!!
A dark orb of crackling energy shot toward him.
Victor barely dodged, feeling the heat as it grazed his hair.
The orb exploded behind him, shaking the ground and sending debris flying. His heart leapt into his throat as he realized the danger he was in.
"DAMMM...it! , why is Always me That Have The worst Luck." Victor whisper to himself In frustration.
From the smoke, a swordsman in A crimson etched robes charged at him With Speed He Can barley reacted With, his long blade gleaming in the faint Moonlight light.
Victor reached into his pocket, pulling out the small knife he carried.
It wasn't much of a weapon, but it would have to do For Now.
Thinking quickly, Victor grabbed a handful of trash Bag from the ground and hurled it toward the swordsman, hoping to distract or slow him down.
But with one fluid motion, the swordsman sliced through the debris, scattering it into neat pieces.
'I Was Hoping That Would Stall Him for a Bit.'
From behind the swordsman, a mage raised a hand, chanting as flames gathered around his palm.
'Just Great..Now I Have To Deal with A mage and Swordman At The Same Time, If Before I had Any chance of Living, Now It all Gone'
A fiery arrow shot toward Victor's left shoulder, as the swordsman closed in on his right.
They were trying to box him in And Going For A Quick Kill.
Victor's mind raced , He needed to act fast.
Stepping back, he narrowly avoided the fiery arrow as it ignited a pile of trash next to him. The sudden flare of light illuminated the alley, casting long, flickering shadows.
The swordsman lunged, Victor ducked low, pivoting to kick his crotch.
The man's balance faltered, and he staggered.
Not wasting a moment, Victor Throw The fire Trash At Him, And Rush at Him aiming to subdue him before he could regain his footing.
But even off balance, the swordsman swung his blade wildly in The Trash directions Then Victor's direction, the sharp edge grazing his shoulder.
The sting of the blade was a stark reminder of how close he was to death.
But Victor's thought acceleration kicked in, and he dodged the next swing with precision.
Thud!
He kicked the swordsman's back knee hard With a Low Kick, forcing him to drop lower.
Wessh!!
Then, with a swift, clean movement, Victor drove his knife into the man's neck With all Him Strength, piercing through the robe Into His Neck.
"Haaaa..."
The swordsman's body weakened, his grip loosening on the blade. But before Victor could catch his breath, the mage launched another dark energy orb, the crackling sphere hissing through the air.
Wossh!!
Without hesitation, Victor grabbed the falling swordsman and shoved him forward.
The man's limp body collided with the orb, absorbing the impact before exploding into a shower of blood.
Grabbing the swordsman's fallen blade, Victor turned toward the mage and charged.
The Mage Try To Cast A Spell, To counter Him, But Before He Was Able To Finish Casting .
He swung the sword in a wide arc, the blade cutting through the air like a whisper.
Swessh!
The mage's head separated cleanly from his body, the glow in his crimson sigils fading as his lifeless form collapsed to the ground Blood Spew Out of His Head.
"Huff… huff…" Victor gasped for air, the adrenaline still pumping through him.
He couldn't believe he Had actually done it he Have taken down two Demon cultists.
'I DID IT WOOO-'
But his relief was short lived.
A sharp, searing pain tore through his chest.
Thud!!
Victor looked down to see a blade piercing through his heart, its crimson streaked steel slick with his blood.
Behind him, another cultist stood, his face obscured by the shadow of his hood.
Victor stumbled forward, his strength fading as his vision blurred.
His body crumpled to the ground, and he felt the cold wetness of the alley against his skin.
The cultist leaned down, his voice a low, guttural growl. "You shouldn't have interfered," he said, his tone dripping with malice.
"But don't worry. Your death will serve a greater purpose."
Victor's lips curled into a weak smile. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered, his voice barely audible.
"Heard that one before."
The cultist straightened, pulling the blade from Victor's chest with a sickening squelch.
'There was another one… I Gusse There Was Another One.' That was his last thought as the darkness enveloped him, his consciousness slipping away.
Victor lay still, lifeless, his eyes closed.
The alley fell silent, save for the faint crackle of flames and the distant drip of water.
The cultist stood over him, his expression unreadable, before vanishing into the shadows as quickly as he had appeared.
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