Chapter 9- Spawn Camp

The cellar door creaked open, an ear-piercing sound that told a tale of a mechanism that hadn't been used in at least a few decades.

It was important to note that of all the rune carvings I've seen so far the door held the most complex, especially on the underside. How could I possibly know? Well for one the amount was staggering, well when compared to the chair that only had a single line of runes. Not to mention it was interconnected in a circular pattern, likely increasing the complexity and effect.

Though it was all guesswork at this point, one thing was odd.

Why were they focused inside the cellar and not at the entrance?

Just to be safe I wedged the stringless hunter's bow in a way that would prevent the door from closing, most bases covered I walked down the ladder.

It was not a large ladder so after about twenty feet I hit the bottom and felt an instant sense of familiarity.

A cobblestone hallway with perpetually burning torches lining the walls. It wasn't another maze thank god, it was a relatively short path, but something caught my attention. 

An ethereal plaque placed in an entryway gave me a hint at what I was going to walk into. 

'Orgnar The Undying' 

'A mini-boss? Under an old possibly human settlement, I found a spawn camp...' 

Spawn camps are pretty simple, find where an enemy's spawn point is and then as the name states, 'camp it'. Usually, the rewards you received were no longer worth the effort or time it took to gather them. In most cases, they were used to train your weaker companions while you sat back as a safety net, a power leveling process.

So that led me to believe that this mini-boss was capable of respawning, a boon for a noob like me.

A roar broke my train of thought, a large bipedal monster made itself known. 

Standing at around nine feet tall and weighing at least half a ton. It wielded a large great ax in both hands and was covered in bright red tribal tattoos. A huge stomach, pointed ears, and a smushed face. 

An ogre, a beast that had no business being a mini-boss in a low-level area. Maybe the main boss….. What the hell could this floors boss be if an ogre is the mini-boss, well it might not have a boss at all. Nothing was a certainty.

'Yeah fuck this, not ready for that' I decided to make a business decision and turn the hell around.

It was at the point that I was halfway back to the door a creaking sound alerted me to a problem.

The snapping of wood along with a loud closing boom made me realize something that caused my shoulders to slump. 

Though I continued forward in vain hope, a half-broken bow on the floor shattered it. Looking up I noticed that the door cellar was closed and the runes were lit, a bright blue that almost spelled out 'you're locked inside'.

Obviously, I climbed the ladder and tried to force the cellar door open, deciding it may be risky to waste mana I only shot a fireball once. Nothing, the ruins didn't even blink after the explosion.

It was a good thing I had a basic idea of how long it took my mana to regenerate. I tested it after using it twice and realized I regenerated about five points a minute, so with a slightly angered sigh I sat down against the wall.

'What kind of sadistic asshole enchants a door to close when someone enters it!' I began raging silently after I felt my mana was mostly restored. I could be mad all I wanted but I decided to enter, I was skeptical but curiosity is a hard thing to ignore.

'I'd just have to be careful to avoid a possible trap next time, well.... If there is a next time' My optimism failed this time as I turned around and observed the hulking monstrosity.

Patiently waiting for me to cross the threshold between the hallway and its arena.

It was aesthetically pleasing in all honesty, a downsized colosseum. Well, the only similarities were the seating arrangement and the large circular dirt ring where the ogre stood in the same stance and eyed me threateningly. 

Without any other option, I began dropping anything that wouldn't help me in this fight. First came my leather armor, whatever defense it could've offered me to whether this monster blows would be useless. 

I wasn't any kind of warrior, I've killed rats, a goblin, and a few bipedal frogs. Despite that, I knew if I was even hit once by one of those five-foot-long axes I'd be dead before I hit the ground, leather armor or not.

What I needed now was flexibility and agility, anything else was useless.

With that in mind, I began walking down the stairs that led to the arena, in the same way I came into this world. Shirtless and in an old pair of dark sweatpants.

My scimitar sheathed on my right hip and my crossbow set in the adjacent one, my blooded spear resting in my palm on the same arm that rested my greatest weapon, the wyrmling gauntlet.

I was surprised at the self-control the ogre had, its eyes never left me for even a second yet it stood patiently as if it was an honor bond to wait for an opponent to enter its ring. 

The moment my lead foot touched the dirt arena it finally moved, as if broken from a spell the ogre twitched and gave the two axes in its hands a flourish. 

I responded with false confidence and gave my spear a dexterous twist.

At this moment I had an odd epiphany.

Nothing else mattered.

A future or my past was irrelevant as I observed the monster across from me.

Either I lose and die or win and survive. 

Throughout my entire teenage and adult life I was juggling a multitude of responsibilities and chasing goals. Buy your dream car, invest in a tech company, help your parents, save for a house, practice your trade….. So many things I had to keep track of since I came of age.

All that mattered now was survival.

I couldn't help but feel a weight leave my shoulders, this was true freedom.

And I had to fight to keep this simple life.