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GoldbeardThelordofSMUT
GoldbeardThelordofSMUT

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TCOB: CHAPTER ONE( Arc 2)

By the Margin

One by one, the Yeomen fell.

The Bonehounds were relentless, their snarls echoing through the caverns like the laughter of death itself. Clyde stumbled through the darkness, his breath ragged, his heart pounding in his chest like a war drum. facing a dead-end, the reincarnator scrambled up the pile of jagged rocks that sealed the dungeon exit before him.

The blood-curdling scream of another man rang out from behind him. There was a clattering noise of rocks tumbling down as the unfortunate fellow was dragged into the roiling mass of jaws and claws below. The telltale clinks of bone claws on hard rock quickly followed as the monsters seemingly turned their sights on Clyde.

The former inspector could have sworn he felt the warm breath of his pursuers through the sole of his boots.

Crawling into a tiny crevice above, Clyde found himself at a dead end, the path blocked by thick, crumbly earth. In the darkness, he heard a scrambling noise beneath him and instinctively swung his blade at his purser. Iron met flesh and a pained yowl sounded from beneath him.

Desperation lent strength to his sword arm. He brandished the blade again and the maw closing around his one of his feet immediately opened up. One creature, bolder, or perhaps, stupider, than the rest, lunged through the darkness at Clyde. It missed by a hair-breath, its great bulk crashing into the earthen ceiling above, dislodging a bit of soil that proceeded to irritate Clyde's eyes. Ignoring his discomfort, as well as his now missing left boot, Clyde plunged his blade into the creature's side. Another notification flashed across his eyes, but his mind was too engaged to truly register it.

The bonehound thrashed, swinging its clawed forearms wildly in retaliation. Luckily for Clyde, he was safely trapped beneath its bulk and hard rock, well out of the reach of the monster's claws. Unluckily for Clyde, he was unfortunately trapped beneath its bulk and hard rock and was slowly being crushed to death. Worst still, he could feel the dislodged boulder he used as a foothold slowly being eroded by the scrambling monsters beneath, threatening to drop him back into the  growing pit of maws waiting at the bottom

Clyde's desperation once again came in clutch, flooding his arms with strength as he pushed against the creature with all his might. A gap formed, large enough that he could pull his blade free before plunging it back into the monster's torso. 

Again. 

And again. 

And again.

The bonehound's thrashing stalled before the creature suddenly stilled, dead. More still were trying to force themselves past their fallen brethren to rip him apart. But it was then Clyde felt it.

A chilly draft rustled his hair from above. He looked up, blinking past the irritating dirt in his eyes to see...

Nothing.

Only darkness. 

With prayers on his lips, Clyde reached up, ignoring the snarling beast just inches from his toes, fighting to be the first to get a bite out of him. His arm touched nothing and another breeze blew past, cooling the sweat on his forearm.

With rekindled hope blossoming in his heart, Clyde crawled upwards, nearly losing his footing in his mad scramble upwards. It was a tight squeeze, the jagged rocks cutting into his exposed skin and gouging his gambeson armor, but the reincarnator couldn't care less. The pain he might have felt felt muted in the face of his impending doom.

Unable to see, he emerged into another dark corridor, this one significantly more refined than the last. The walls and floors were smooth and flat and when his sword fell to the ground it clattered in a manner reminiscent of dropping a utensil on a tiled floor.

Hot pain radiated from his right thigh and his chest heaved with each breath. The snarling noises grew louder and without hesitation, Clyde scrambled for his blade before plunging it into the flesh of the bonehound trying to squeeze out of the hole after him. The creature screeched so he pulled out his blade and did so again. Repeatedly. Until it stopped moving.

[You have inflicted lethal damage]

[You have killed a juvenile bonehound]

[You have gained experience]

With a grunt, Clyde pulled his sword out from the corpse before limping away, slowly picking up the pace as he went. The dead monster was clogging the hole he had crawled through, but Clyde was not inclined to believe it would buy him that much time. He knew he had to leave. Quickly.

He hobbled in the direction of the blowing breeze, praying still that it led to an exit. The snarling continued to echo relentlessly behind him.

Fuck... Clyde uttered via chapped lips. Ditching his blade, he stopped and quickly began to unstrap his gambeson before also tossing it aside. The coarse shirt he wore underneath came off next, and with the dagger strapped to his waist, he cut it into reasonably sized strips before wrapping it like a crude bandage around the still-bleeding gash on his thigh.

The reincarnator felt it would be a real shame if he died from mere blood loss after all he had miraculously survived these past few minutes.

Fumbling around in the darkness, he retrieved his sword before continuing his rushed limp forward. He didn't bother with the armor, believing it might be more of a burden than it was worth at the moment. He was unsure how long he fled, but eventually, he came to the end of the tunnel.

A metal door that was just slightly ajar stood at the end, overgrown with vines and weeds. From the small gap in which air flowed, thin shards of sunlight leaked into the corridor illuminating the skeletal remains of a humanoid figure with their right arm just resting on the door handle. Clyde stumbled forward and pushed aside the skeleton resting on the door; it shattered like glass as it hit the ground.

With a grunt of effort, Clyde pulled open the rusted, vine-bound barrier and fell into the sunlight outside. Relief flooded him. Oh, how he missed the light. For a moment, he simply took in the clean, forest air, but a muted, echoing growl immediately snapped him back into the moment.

Forcing himself up, he turned around towards the door and quickly began to pull it shut. Hopefully, the monsters are not smart enough to know how to open a door.

But just as he was about to shut it, his eyes caught a strange gleam lying among the scattered shards of bones littering the floor. As if with a mind of its own, his arm shot out to snatch the item before the door shut closed.

A ring? Clyde murmured as he stared at the object in his palm. Stuffing it in the pouch sewn into the crotch of his garments, he turned to flee the scene in hopes of finding safety.

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Happy New Year, Comrades! May this be one of unending booty!


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