As the black sky crept closer, the old man cursed quietly, trying to use the sword as a means of support to stand, only to feel a sharp stab directly into his leg. He let out a grunt of pain before feeling his body start to relax a bit, old aches lessening and his muscles relaxing ever so slightly.
Looking down he noticed the black-tipped root slowly sinking back into the ground. "Thank you." He whispered softly; its leaves seemingly bristled in response as he watched various roots stretch out around the newly grown creeper. The soothing help it gave him wasn't much, but he was grateful for it and would make the most of it. The newly grown plant clearly wanting to try and help in its own way.
The pressure seemed to disappear as suddenly as it came, allowing the old man to stand properly. His eyes hardening as he cast one last look towards the hut, glad to see the vines tightening their hold around it. He heard the spike bushes rustling, noticing how they seemed to pack tighter together while the mist slowly grew thicker, spreading further out and higher while leaving the area around him clear.
The howls were far closer now; he could make out various mutts and wolves faintly through the mist now. The sight caused him to scoff and raise his blade while using his good leg to keep himself steady. "Testing us, huh? Very well." He said softly, gaze flickering to the sky before taking a steadying breath, his eyes starting to faintly glow as his hair billowed around him in a nonexistent breeze.
"I can't believe I'm actually going to be fighting again." He said with a wistful sigh. "Still, going down with a blade in hand is far better than dying in my sleep. Especially since I finally found hope once more for the future I always desired." He whispered softly, a defiant smile forming on his lips as he pointed his blade towards the dungeon then the sky. "Send all you can, you bastards! He will change this place! This ruined world! No matter what you lot try, he will make things right!" He yelled out; the blackness seemed to darken further in response to his words, small twinkles starting to spread across it like eyes, turning day into a twisted parody of night.
His grip tightened around the blade's handle as he clenched his teeth before slashing out towards the faintly visible enemies, a blade of wind cutting through the mist and slicing the lead wolves, each of them letting out cries of pain that were ignored by the rest who ran past them.
He watched as the spike bushes seemed to rise from the ground ahead of him, having moved there unnoticed in the mist the cloud tree made. He realized they had been lying as flat as possible, blending into the ground, and now rose up like a thorny tide that tangled and ripped many of them to pieces, their thorns cutting into them and injuring many to the point they couldn't get back up.
"Clever buggers." The old man laughed, impressed by their tactics as he cut through the few that managed to get through the thorny barricade.
Each swing of the sword cut down multiple wolves and dogs, the sharp wind blade making short work of them until a trio of flesh Minotaur's charged through the spike bushes, their thorns sticking deeply into them as they took the plants and old man by surprise. Their loud cries of pain showed they were hurt by the thorns but also that they were far from enough to stop them as they tore a hole through them.
If Chris were awake, he would no doubt have heard the screams of both pain and anger let loose by the thorn bushes that were crushed and uprooted, along with the smooth whispers filled with expectation and delight from the carnivorous vines as they began to crush and consume the wolves and dogs that managed to get past the old man. Their flowers focused on the trio of Minotaur's and already discussing textures and tastes.
The old man swung his sword in desperation this time, managing to gash one across the flank deep enough to make it trip during its charge. He dodged to the side, barely managing to avoid being hit, only to let out an angry hiss of pain as his injured leg buckled, causing him to fall. He refused to stay down, though, quickly forcing himself up and hobbling over to the toppled beast, driving his blade into its head.
As soon as he finished killing the first Minotaur, he ripped the sword free and swung his blade towards the other two, cursing his injury as he stumbled and fell to a knee. As soon as the blade of wind left the tip of his blade, barely managing to catch one across the back, it made him roar in anger and slow its charge to turn and glare hatefully at him, giving the vines the opportunity they needed to lash out and quickly choke it to death. But soon it began to violently thrash about as the third began to try and rip its way into the hut.
The cacti tried to stop it, leaning back before swinging forward but only barely managing to scratch along its side, causing it to scream in pain. This gave the vines an opening to finish the final Minotaur, stabbing through some of its open wounds with their horrifying needle flowers, stabbing repeatedly in clear fury.
Chris, had he been conscious, would have heard their shrill screams of anger and of pain, their hunger long since forgotten as they only desired to make what had hurt them hurt in turn.
The old man couldn't focus on that, though; horrid crows with multiple red eyes had begun to dive down to attack him, their sharp beaks punching holes into him, now requiring his full attention to keep them from ending him. He tried to use his blade to cut down as many as he could, their beaks cutting and stabbing holes that made him let out cries of pain even as the shadow vines sprang up to try and strike as many as they could out of the air in hopes of helping him, even going so far as to spit sap to try and heal his wounds. Even as horrid cat-like creatures, missing various chunks of their bodies, rushed by him, using the distraction of the birds to get on by, but not before one of them ripped a chunk from his injured leg, causing him to let out a loud cry of pain and use the sword to keep from falling to the ground once more.
He looked back through his good eye, the other lost to the crows now far fewer and having chosen to feast on the dead wolves. He watched as the vines all but began rampaging, swinging their vines violently and seemingly having grown hooked thorns to hook and rip apart anything within reach, including the barren cats that had slipped past him.
He couldn't keep from frowning at the slight lull in the battle, having noticed the lack of arrows. He knew the centaurs wouldn't pass up an opportunity such as this, and yet they seemed to be absent. He didn't have much time to consider their reasoning behind it as the ground began to shake. Casting sand into the air along with blowing away the mist, it was violent enough to even scare away the crows who let out angry squawks. He didn't need to be a genius to know that the worst was not only on its way but had arrived.
A large-scaled dragon-like beast parted the fog, its many heads looking at him with an almost mocking gaze as it looked down on the old man. Its body was fat and round with many of its scales cracked or broken, an angry red arrow jutting out of its bloated chest with ugly black veins running from it. It walked on two legs, had no arms, and had a thick tail that it limply dragged behind it.
The old man noticed how the shadow vines stealthily retreated, raising their roots out of the ground around it as they tightened into themselves, moving their roots slowly towards the beast, steadily wrapping together to grow longer and thicker. His gaze turned to the hydra's main head, watching how it blew away the remaining fog with a puff of hot breath before locking its many-eyed gaze onto the hut. "Heh, so in the end even you ended up as a puppet, Ahronoth? The once mighty hydra king, the nigh unkillable monster classed as a living catastrophe. Now reduced to this sorry state? And I thought I was pathetic, but you went from being the terror of empires to a soft dragon without fangs in a little place in the Barrens." The old man mocked and taunted; his words had a few of its heads turn to glare down at him with smoldering anger in their eyes.
Its main head tried to get them moving, to ignore the old man, only for them to snap at it. The action made the old man laugh loudly. The roots that he had noticed tying together and creeping across the ground rose up quickly, stabbed the hydra in its ankle, and made it let out a cry of surprise and anger that gave the old man an opening to swing the blade one final time with all of his strength and a war cry. Letting loose a slicing wind that hit the shaft of the arrow in Ahronoth's chest, pressing it in further as he finally fell to the ground, having no strength left to move anything besides his head.
The beast let out a piercing howl of pain as the roots dug deeper into its foot and the black marks spread further across its chest, before it fell to its knees, making a visible effort to not crush the old man or the area as the rest of its body toppled. Its main head resting next to him, glaring balefully at him.
With a sputtered cough, the old man smiled mockingly at its side. "That ability to rapidly heal doesn't really help much when a mix of medicinal properties joins it, huh? For you hydras, such things aren't seen as a threat due to them not being recognized as a poison and instead get assimilated, except when it's done all together? Well, too much of a good thing is a saying for a reason. Further proof of how far you have fallen if that concoction is enough to bring you down." His words got him an angry snort from Ahronoth, many of its heads having already fallen asleep with only the main head still conscious.
"At least my final moments were with a valid battle, taking down a legend." He said with a smile as the light slowly left his eyes, turning his gaze to the sky. "Good luck, lad; I hope the time this will give you will be enough to properly grow strong enough to stand on your own." He whispered, the last bits of his life slipping away. A smile filled with pride never leaving his lips the entire time.
"Rest well, warrior; I shall honor your last wish…" Ahronoth rumbled through his main head before using it to try and crawl away, refusing to allow himself to die, only to roar in pain and rage as arrows began to rain across his massive form.
Steadily the centaurs began to appear, some with bows and others with hooks tied with leather strap ropes, licking their thick lips hungrily.
"Cowards!" He snarled, only for the biggest centaur to walk out of the mist, the others parting for him as the others began to sink their hooks into him.
"No, we smart. We wait. Shaman speaks of a green future. You will feed the young till then, worm." It snarked. "We rule the dry lands now; we control it now! Not you." It continued, the hooks now biting into him before having its people drag Ahronoth away. Before he left, he looked towards the hut. "Change comes; the shaman says you shall bring it. We feel it. THEY fear it. We will embrace it rather than turning away, we won't be their pawns." It finally said before walking forward to the shadow berry vines.
Many of its roots began to rise from the ground again, its leaves bristling angrily causing it to pause. Reaching out hesitantly, it saw the vine shy away, making him hesitate and pull back. Its gaze rose to look at the hut again before letting out a huff and turning away to rejoin its herd.
All the while the little world tree whispered its own little prayer, no longer whispering apologies or crying, while wrapping its small root further around his hand, trying to comfort him as he began to toss and turn. The strangle vines angrily calling for more blood in anger rather than hunger, knowing the pain its grower would feel at the old one's passing and not knowing how to deal with it as the cacti tried desperately to calm them. The cloud tree wept softly, a light drizzle beginning to fall lightly over the area as the spike bushes, those that were left, slowly moved towards the old man's body, planting themselves around him as both a sign of respect and to try and prevent any scavengers from defiling their protector.
In the distance the dungeon seemed to let out a low rumble, the black false night fading back to blue as the sun shone brightly once more. In the far distance beyond the reach of mortals, multiple figures were in deep discussion among themselves, while off to the side an old man, all but pushed out of the conversation and meeting, snapped his head to the side, a small smile playing on his lips before quickly schooling his features and looking back to the gathered group.