Cherreads

Chapter 8 - Chapter 7

Trying the new armor

Yeah I almost did not post today because I did not know how to write a training chapter so I just wrote this I hope y'all like it

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The sun crept over the horizon, casting golden light across the city of Orario. The stone walls shimmered faintly with dew, and the looming tower of Babel pierced the morning sky like a blade. Mateo stood at the edge of the Dungeon's entrance, armored and ready or so he hoped.

The armor was new a gift from the dwarf blacksmith who owed Riven a favor. Black leather, reinforced with metal along the chest, shoulders, and shins. 

It was well-crafted but heavier than Mateo expected. When he flexed his fingers and rolled his shoulders, the tightness of the straps reminded him he wasn't used to it, not yet.

He looked down at his hands. Unarmed. No sword, no spear. Just fists and feet. That was how he would fight.

Mateo stepped into the Dungeon.

- - - - 

Floor One

- - - - 

The stale, cold air of the Dungeon rushed over him like breath from a sleeping giant. The stone beneath his feet was damp, and the flickering crystals that lined the cavern walls bathed everything in pale blue light. He exhaled, crouching low.

A goblin shrieked nearby.

He turned quickly, armor shifting with a metallic clink. Too loud. Too slow. The goblin lunged from the shadows with a rusted dagger raised high. 

Mateo twisted to the side, but the armor dragged on his shoulder, slowing his turn. The blade grazed his ar,m just a scratch, but it stung.

He hissed and moved in.

One step. Then two. Then a low kick to sweep the goblin's legs out from under it. It fell with a yelp. Before it could rise, Mateo's foot came down hard on its throat. The creature gurgled and stilled.

His chest heaved.

He glanced at the scuff on his arm guard. If he'd been faster, he could've dodged cleanly.

"This armor... It's slowing me down."

But he couldn't take it off. It was protection, a shield between him and death. He needed to adapt.

So he pressed deeper into the Dungeon.

- - - - 

Floor Two

- - - - 

More goblins. A kobold. He moved through them with increasing grace, even as sweat began to pool beneath his tunic.

He ducked under a kobold's claw swipe and slammed an elbow into its snout. The beast stumbled, stunned. Mateo flipped into the air, twisting with a powerful crescent kick that broke the kobold's neck on impact.

He landed awkwardly too much weight on the shoulder guard, and staggered back a step.

"Still clunky," he muttered.

But he could feel it: his body adjusting. Learning.

Every punch, every dodge, every impact he was calculating. The drag of the armor was no longer a surprise. He started using it, leaning into his movements. Rolling with the weight instead of against it.

His rabbit instincts taught him how to jump, to weave. His cheetah blood taught him when to strike. Timing. Precision. Velocity.

He grinned.

He fought three goblins at once in a narrow corridor. He blocked a club with his forearm, spun behind one, and drove his knee into its back. It shrieked and fell the second charged.

Mateo launched off the wall, landed behind it, and snapped its neck with a vicious elbow. The third tried to run. He caught it, tackled it, and smashed his palm into its face until it stopped moving.

He encountered another kobold hiding near a collapsed tunnel. It lunged. He sidestepped and caught its wrist, twisting until bones cracked. 

With a rapid stomp to the kneecap, the kobold fell screaming. Mateo crushed its throat with a single downward elbow.

A goblin ambushed from above. Mateo jumped back just in time. It landed hard, and Mateo pounced, grabbing it by the head and slamming it into the wall repeatedly until the body went limp.

He continued forward, breathing heavily, but each step felt stronger.

- - - - 

Third-Person POV

- - - - 

Mateo's figure blurred between crystal columns and moss-covered stones. Where once he hesitated, now he flowed. The armor no longer dragged it redirected. He bent the weight to his will.

A trio of goblins burst from a crevice. They shrieked, bounding toward him.

Mateo ducked the first, spinning into a low stance. His heel cracked across the goblin's temple. It fell instantly.

The second leapt with a scream. Mateo backflipped, planting both feet into its chest mid-air, launching it back into the wall.

The third hesitated.

Smart one.

Mateo surged forward before it could retreat. A flurry of jabs kept the goblin backpedaling. Then a powerful open-palm strike drove into its solar plexus. It crumpled, gasping.

He stood over it, breathing hard but smiling.

The Dungeon responded with silence.

- - - - 

First-Person POV

- - - - 

I moved like I'd never moved before.

Fast. Sharp. Alive.

The armor wasn't a cage. It was a shell. And I was the blade inside it.

I danced between monsters, feet barely touching the stone. I kicked a kobold so hard it shattered against a wall. I elbowed a goblin mid-leap and crushed its windpipe. I wasn't just surviving I was dominating.

Confidence surged like fire through my veins.

I leapt off a rock shelf, flipping midair, and drove both feet into the skull of a charging kobold. It died instantly.

Too easy.

I laughed.

I was alive. This was what I was meant for.

Another monster came at me this one bigger, bulkier, with jagged teeth and pale blue skin. A lesser ogre. I slid under its swing and punched upward into its gut. Pain shot through my knuckles, but the beast staggered.

I somersaulted backward, landing on all fours, then pounced like a beast, driving my elbow into its spine. The ogre howled before collapsing.

My body burned. I welcomed it.

- - - - 

Third-Person POV

- - - - 

But the Dungeon is never kind to arrogance.

As Mateo landed from his latest aerial kick, his boots skidded against gravel. He overcompensated, stumbling slightly. Just a second. Barely.

Enough.

A shadow moved. A long, lean kobold leapt from behind a pillar, claws bared.

Mateo ducked in time but not fast enough.

The claw raked across his backplate. Sparks flew. Mateo twisted, eyes narrowing.

He struck his left palm to the jaw, right foot sweeping the beast's knees. It fell, snarling. He stomped once, twice. Dead.

Mateo straightened, chest heaving.

He wasn't invincible.

Driven by the thrill and flush with heat, Mateo didn't notice the walls subtly shift the way the ceilings grew higher, the ground colder. He was already past the third floor. Past the fourth.

The fifth floor.

The monsters were different now.

He fought a larger kobold with crimson eyes and thick arms. It fought like a brawler. Mateo traded blows, ducked a wild hook, and launched a leaping kick into its jaw. The beast bit his leg. 

Mateo roared and hammered its skull with his fists until it stopped twitching.

He limped away, blood in his boot.

He stumbled into a room swarming with goblins, half a dozen. They attacked in a wave. Mateo dodged the first, ducked under the second, and kneed the third so hard it flew back. 

He rolled under a blade, grabbed the goblin's arm, and slammed it into the stone floor with all his weight. Then he cartwheeled over one and crushed its spine with a hammering heel drop.

He caught one mid-run and spun, throwing it into the others. He moved like lightning, knocking them down one by one until only bodies remained.

"I need to go back," he whispered.

But the thrill pushed him onward.

Then he saw it.

A Dungeon Lizard.

Ten feet long. Green, scaly hide like armor. Yellow eyes that locked onto him.

It hissed.

Mateo froze.

The lizard pounced. Fast.

He rolled aside, armor scraping stone. The tail cracked like a whip, missing his head by inches. Mateo lunged, struck with a jab to the throat. Nothing.

Too thick.

He vaulted over its back. It twisted faster than it should've. Its jaw snapped near his ankle. He landed, kicked upward under its chin. Still nothing.

It bit.

He jammed his armored forearm into its mouth. Teeth scraped steel. With a scream, he shoved his other hand into its eye. It thrashed. Mateo twisted, drove his elbow down on its neck.

The lizard hissed once more and then collapsed.

Mateo stumbled back, breath ragged.

"I'm on the fifth floor..."

He turned.

Then the floor beneath him shook.

A deep, groaning sound.

Far below.

The Dungeon itself rumbled.

Dust fell. Stones cracked. Something massive moved.

Mateo backed away.

"…What was that?"

Another tremor.

Louder.

Closer.

He was about to run.

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Can y'all guess what's going to happen?

And if you're confused about anything, please tell me here

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