The imposing walls of the maze loomed around him, their oppressive weight mirroring the tension of the battle. Subra stood in the center of the clearing, his chest heaving, his last spear splintered and barely serviceable. His bone-fang dagger gleamed faintly in the moonlight filtering through a crack in the ceiling, casting long shadows across the battlefield. Blood dripped from his wounds, his movements labored but determined.

Around him, the remaining enemies closed in with eerie precision. The elf leader stood at the forefront, her twin daggers glinting, her molten golden eyes fixed on him with a predatory gleam. To her left and right, the final swordsman and archer moved with equal intent, their weapons ready. Above, the other two archers hovered momentarily, their mysterious flight granting power allowing them to float in the air for a few moments, giving them brief vantage points before they landed back on the ground. Subra gritted his teeth as he sized up the coordinated formation, his mind racing for a solution.

The leader smirked, stepping forward. “Cornered and bleeding. I expected more of a challenge.” Her voice was low and mocking, a blade in its own right.

“Challenge?” Subra retorted, wiping blood from his lips. “What challenge is there in swarming a single man? Afraid I’ll win?”

Her expression hardened. With a subtle flick of her hand, the air filled with the sound of bowstrings releasing. Arrows streaked toward Subra like falling stars. He dove to the side, rolling into a crouch as the projectiles embedded themselves in the ground where he had stood. Before he could recover, the swordsman lunged, his glowing blue blade carving a deadly arc.

Subra raised his broken spear, parrying the strike with a resounding clang. The weapon splintered further, but he twisted the haft, leveraging the elf’s momentum to redirect the strike into the ground. With a sharp kick to the swordsman’s knee, Subra forced him to stagger, creating a brief opening.

Above, the archers standing on the maze walls circled him like vultures. Subra knew he couldn’t outrun their aim forever. Desperation clawed at him as he seized a shard of his broken spear and hurled it at the nearest archer. The sharp fragment flew through the air, its trajectory a perfect arc of chaos. By sheer luck, it struck her directly in the forehead. The impact was brutal, and she crumpled instantly, her body dropping from the wall like a ragdoll. Her bow clattered to the ground as her life flickered out in a single, tragic moment. Subra’s heart raced, a mix of disbelief and cold calculation, as he watched the other elves hesitate, momentarily stunned by the sudden loss.

The leader advanced, her daggers a blur of motion. Subra sidestepped her initial thrust, countering with a swipe of his bone-fang dagger. The blade scraped against her armor, leaving a shallow groove but no meaningful damage. She retaliated with a backhanded slash, forcing Subra to retreat as the poisoned edge nicked his shoulder. A paralyzing numbness spread from the wound, freezing his arm in place and making him stumble back in pain.

The swordsman recovered, joining the fray with renewed aggression. His strikes came fast and heavy, forcing Subra to backpedal toward the maze wall. With no room left to maneuver, Subra ducked under a horizontal slash, using the wall as leverage to launch himself into a backflip. He landed behind the swordsman, his dagger flashing. The blade found a weak spot in the elf’s armor, slicing through the joint at his shoulder. The swordsman roared in pain, dropping his weapon as blood spurted from the wound.

The swordsman stumbled, clutching his wounded shoulder, but remained standing, his breathing heavy. Subra realized he had no time to finish him off as the leader closed the distance, her daggers flashing dangerously. Subra didn’t have time to celebrate; the leader was on him in an instant, her daggers cutting a deadly arc. His movements were sluggish, the poison from earlier numbing his limbs and slowing his reactions. He barely raised his dagger in time to block the first strike, the impact jolting his already weakened arm.

“Enough of your tricks,” she hissed, her strikes growing more precise. Subra’s defenses faltered as he barely deflected her blows with his dagger. Behind her, the remaining archers regrouped, their bows trained on him.

The elves regrouped, their movements calculated, their golden eyes blazing. Subra fought recklessly, his body protesting with every movement. He could feel the poison from earlier slowing him down, his left arm numb and useless. His mind flitted to the thought of failure, the cost of losing here. What would they say if I fell now?

The leader struck, her daggers flashing. Subra parried with his remaining weapon, but the effort cost him. He stumbled, the poison tightening its grip. Desperation gnawed at Subra’s resolve. He could feel the poison tightening its grip, his left arm now entirely unresponsive. He scanned the enclosed space, his eyes landing on the faint cracks in the walls beside him. An idea sparked. It was reckless, dangerous, and his only chance.

He reached into his pocket, retrieving a cloth soaked in lizard-hybrid blood he had saved for later use. The blood, volatile and unpredictable, clung to the fabric, ready for use. He wrapped the cloth around a jagged piece of stone, ensuring it was saturated.

The leader lunged again, but Subra sidestepped, hurling the stone wrapped in the blood-soaked cloth at the base of the wall near the archers. The makeshift weapon struck true, and a spark ignited. The ensuing explosion was thunderous, the fiery shockwave ripping through the air and sending cracks splintering outward along the stone. Flames surged upward, licking the fractured ceiling, while the force of the blast hurled debris in all directions.

One archer, perched on a ledge slightly above the others, was caught off guard. The violent shockwave shattered the footing beneath her, and she tumbled forward, unable to steady herself. As she fell, a massive slab of stone, dislodged by the explosion, descended with brutal precision. She barely had time to scream before it crushed her mid-fall, her lifeless body hitting the ground with a sickening thud amidst the falling rubble.

The leader snarled, her eyes blazing with fury. “You would destroy us all just to survive?”

Subra smirked, blood dripping from his mouth. “You started this. I’m just finishing it.”

The explosion had weakened the structural integrity of the maze. Subra sprinted toward the leader, using the chaos to his advantage. She met his charge with a flurry of strikes, but he ducked low, slamming his shoulder into her abdomen. The force drove her back, momentarily off balance. Nearby, the swordsman steadied himself, ready to rejoin the fray, while the final archer loosed an arrow to cover the leader's recovery.

Above, the final archer aimed, her golden-orange eyes locking onto Subra. Time seemed to slow as she loosed her arrow. Subra twisted at the last moment, the arrow grazing his side but missing its mark. He retaliated with a desperate throw of his dagger, aimed to disarm rather than kill. The blade struck her bow, nearly shattering it and forcing her to retreat, but she remained alive and dangerous.

Only the leader, the swordsman, and the archer remained. The leader wiped blood from her mouth, her expression unreadable, while the others flanked her with grim determination. “You’ve cost me my warriors,” she said, her voice cold. “But you’ve won nothing.” Subra finally started feeling sensations in his legs, and the poison’s effects ended. His breaths became easier, but he forced himself to stay focused, clenching his dagger in his remaining good hand, now that his left hand was slowly recovering.

Subra staggered forward, his breaths ragged. “Maybe not. But I’m still here.”

-To Be Continued-