To Be Civilized: Prologue [Danmachi Minotaur SI]
- Location
- A Tropical Island in the Pacific
Where am I?
Waking up had always been an arduous task, especially after a long and tiring night. It was still dark and his body felt heavy but nature called and his stomach demanded to be filled. He needed to get out of bed, whether he liked it or not, and so he tried to get up but found himself unable to do so as the very world itself pressed down against him. The fog of sleep quickly wore off as he found that, not only was he unable to move, but he was also upright.
Confusion came first as he found himself not in his usual soft bed as the rough stony surface of his prison brushed against his skin. For a brief second, he thought he was paralyzed but he felt his muscles strain and his chest expand against the hard unyielding walls as if he were a toy inside a hard mold.
Panic soon followed as breathing got harder and harder, with each lung full of air becoming stiffer while his body demanded more. A sense of vertigo rocked his senses as he realized that he was going to suffocate if he didn't free himself this very instant. The beating of his heart pounded against his ears as he struggled in earnest, but the only reward he found was strength leaving his limbs.
Fear gripped his heart as he struggled harder, yet he could not budge an inch inside this stony coffin. A deep creeping realization that he really might die settled in, but he refused to give up. Finally, something gave way as he felt the walls in front of him crack with the tiniest breeze of fresh air filtering in. Like a man starved, he pressed his nose up against the crack and took in greedy breaths of air.
No longer starved of oxygen he could finally think, so he stopped struggling and took note of his situation. One, he was stuck. Two, whatever was encasing him was hard enough to stop him but not hard enough that it was unable to be destroyed. Three, he needed to get himself out as soon as possible. There was a way out of where he was and it was forward.
Using the very walls of his prison as leverage he pushed forward, trying to break open his rocky casket. Sweat dribbled down his body from the effort with the walls remaining as hard as ever, yet there was progress as the unmoving barrier started to crack and give way. Gritting his teeth, he struggled until finally his hands finally broke through and found empty space beyond.
Using his limbs as leverage he widened the hole he made before finally his torso popped out as well. Rock and debris rained down on his form and obscured his vision as it kicked up a dust cloud; which had him hacking his lungs out. Breathing was painful, but he powered through as he pulled himself free.
He fell down on the floor with an unceremonious thud, the cold unyielding floor pressing up against his naked form, but he didn't care for he was no longer trapped. Shakily, he pushed himself up and immediately noticed the dark, hair covered, and muscular pillars for arms beneath him. As he knelt up, he held up those arms and found themselves attached to his equally shaggy form. He wasn't just covered with body hair but actual fur. Beneath all this was dark leathery skin wrapped around a muscle bound form.
Shaking his head, he winced as it banged against the walls. He reached up to find large horns attached to the side of his head, "What the hell happened?" He groaned out, but a deep booming voice came out in place of his usually much softer one. As much as he wanted to find out, he had far more pressing matters like his current situation. Where was he?
Slowly he got up, but found himself unsteady as instead of feet he now stood on large hooves. He staggered a bit as he stood, unused to his new limbs; which wasn't helped much with his far heavier and bulkier form. With the walls as his guide he took slow and tentative steps which soon became confident strides. Pushing himself against the walls, he stood there for a time as he looked around and found himself inside of what could only be described as a large stone labyrinth.
From his position he found himself looking down upon twisting pathways with halls leading up and down in different directions with no end in sight. Looking up, he found the ceiling to be solid bedrock. Wherever he looked, all there ever was stone and even more stone. The fact that it was cold, damp, and humid made his lack of clothes all the more annoying to deal with. The only saving grace to his current location was that it was illuminated by the light from holes dotting the ceiling, but it was dim and barely able to illuminate the path ahead.
His musings would be cut short as he heard the tell tale sign of stone cracking behind him. He turned around and there he saw minotaur, with fur and horns similar to himself, freeing themselves from the wall. He was about to walk up to talk to them and ask what was going on but he stopped as a shiver of fear ran up his spine. As his eyes met those of the beings in front of him, he knew that they were but mere monsters.
Those soulless hateful gazes made him freeze up as they bellowed and roared out to the labyrinth. Saliva frothed out their snouts as they scrambled to their hooves. Their movement erratic while their muscles bulged with barely restrained violence. These were not civilized creatures but mere beasts beholden to their baser instincts, and they were out for blood.
He took a step back as his senses returned to him but it might have been better if he hadn't as their gazes locked onto him. Taking deep calming breaths to calm his beating heart, he forced himself to think. As big as these creatures were he outmassed them by a significant margin, however there were four of them and just one of him. They also showed no signs of fear as they stalked forward.
He did his best not to make any sudden movements as he tried to find a way out of there. The path they were on was narrow with one side leading to a sheer drop while the other was just hard unyielding walls. He could run, but he doubted that he could lose these things if he did. He could fight, but he had no weapons aside from his fists. The situation looked almost hopeless until he stepped on something metallic.
He looked down and found himself stepping atop the severed arm clutching a double handed ax. A trail of blood soon pointed him to the corpse of a man with a large wooden shield strapped to his back. He gagged, and almost puked, but he managed to keep it in as the monsters before him roared and charged right at him.
With little time to think, he grabbed the weapon and shield before standing his ground. If he was going to survive he needed to fight these bastards and kill them before they could kill him. Clutching the large shield on his left and the large double headed ax that felt more like a small hatchet in his other, he met them head on.
He had no training in using such weapons, but these creatures had no experience in fighting as they pushed and jostled each other while they ran towards him. Gritting his teeth and bracing himself he bashed his shield up against the cheek of the first minotaur. The creature staggered as he was pushed back only to drop as an ax swung on its exposed neck and decapitated the creature.
Blood gushed out of the open stump, but he had barely any time to process what had happened as a fist came crashing into his face with blows raining over his body. His vision swam but he held himself together as he clenched his jaw and pushed against them with his shield. Creating space, he swung his ax down, chopping and hacking as he raised his shield up to his nose.
It was bloody and brutal, with his ax biting into tough flesh and tearing at sinew as he yanked it out. Keeping his shield close he weathered their blows as he was forced to step back, but they bled while he remained mostly unharmed. One of them howled out in pain as his ax tore through the bovine's shoulder, leaving its arm hanging down on its side. Its momentary distraction was all he needed to hook its horns with the beard of his ax and yank him down. Distracted, it was quickly off balanced and sent tumbling down, leaving him with only two more to face.
He roared out in challenge as they kept on going, heedless of their comrades' deaths and their own injuries just to attack him. He lashed out, arms burning and muscles straining as he struck with his ax once more, burying it deep inside the skill of one of them. He could only curse as his ax got stuck there, forcing him to relinquish his weapon as he faced the last beast.
It charged right at him with its horn lowered to skewer him. By the skin of his teeth he managed to react and grab on to the horns as he was pushed back. He winced as the tips of the horns poked against his stomach while his hooves dug on the ground. Even as he pushed back, he was forced ever closer to the edge as the monster's reckless strength powering their smaller frame surprised him. With the last of his strength, he roared out as he twisted and turned the minotaur's head, which made the creature careen to the side and trip.
Pushing the creature's head down and pinning it's throat with his knee, he rained down punches on the downed monster. He roared out as he lashed out, punching even as his fists felt like they were breaking and refusing to stop until all that was left was a bloody smear and a headless twitching body. He raised his hand one more time only to stop as the creature before exploded into a cloud of dust and ash leaving him with nothing but a single horn as proof if ever existed. He knelt there panting as he watched the hard outer keratin of the horn peel away to reveal a red crystalline core in its shape.
Finally, it was over and he was left bloodied yet still very much alive. His head was ringing from the blow he took, his hands shaking with his grip loosened enough to drop the shield in his hand, his chest pounding and his lung burning as if he had just ran a marathon, but he bore no mark of injury aside from the bruise forming over his right eye and parts of his body. No longer subjected to danger, his mind could finally catch up and he heaved as his body tried to empty the contents of his stomach.
He gagged and coughed before he collapsed face first as weariness overtook him. He was dead tired and all he wanted was to close his eyes and sleep, but if he did he knew he'd die because this dungeon would surely kill him, "I need to… get to the surface," He groaned as he forced himself up and kept on going; he had an inkling on where he was and he did not want to stay any longer than needed in this demented dungeon if his gut feeling was correct.
Staggering up to his feet, he grabbed the minotaur horn drop and marched up to the slowly disintegrating body of the minotaur that had his ax. Stepping on the corpse for leverage, he pulled and yanked the blade free before he knelt down and sliced away at the meat. He searched around the chest area, slicing just below the sternum and inserting his hands inside. He reached up, feeling around before he found what he was looking for.
Grabbing hold of the hard object, he yanked it out and the corpse dissolved into dust just like the other creature. Blood flaked away leaving him with nothing but a pristine, palm size crystal in his hand. He held it up, inspecting its beauty and he ruminated on what to do with his prize. He could keep it and maybe try to sell it later, but he was a minotaur, a monster born of the dungeon, and he doubted he'd be able to convince an adventurer that he wasn't going to kill them, much less step outside and live a life in the city of the gods above.
He hesitated a bit, clutching the crystal before he opened his mouth a bite down on a magical item. It broke like candy as his molars crunched down on it and immediately, a jolt of energy filled his form and pool inside his chest. He felt his wounds heal while his body strengthened. It was as if he took a shot of espresso as energy filled his very limbs. Was it cannibalism for him to eat the core of a creature like him? Probably. Did he care? No, he didn't have time for it.
He then moved to the next corpse and harvested them as well for their core. It was a shame that he couldn't harvest the other minotaur after it fell off the cliff, but he was still left with a minotaur horn he was going to keep around and two stones that were quickly consumed. With the monsters stripped of their valuables, he moved on to the next corpse; that of the man he looted his new found ax and shield from.
He stood over the still body of the man who sported a gaping hole where his heart should be. The man's wide open eyes and stupefied expression told him that at least he died before he could even register what happened. He reached out and closed the man's eyes before giving the man a brief prayer. It was the least he could do for what he was about to do to him.
He started stripping the large man of anything of worth and value, leaving him only to his underwear. What little armor they had was strapped to his body. The greaves were a bit too small while the chest plate only served to cover his stomach, but it was much better than nothing. The clothes he looted were ripped to fit him. The cotton shirt proved to be especially useful as he ripped it to a long broad strip to serve as his loincloth to give him some semblance of modesty. The pants, meanwhile, were used to wrap his hands to give them a bit of reinforcement in case his weapon and shield gave way.
The rucksack the man had was filled with small stones along with some ruined potion bottles, a gourd, and some rations. Whatever killed him was probably chased off by his companions before they could even loot him. That meant more stuff for him to survive on. He made sure to remove the glass while making sure that the stones he found inside were kept sealed inside the sack; those could prove useful later.
Now equipped, he grabbed the nearest rock and stacked them atop of the man's body. He could have merely left him behind, but he was no mere brute. He refused to let the dungeon strip him of his humanity and render him down to an uncivilized monster. It only took a minute to cover them. With the undersized helmet to serve as the man's headstone, he apologized before turning his back and leaving.
As he walked around he quickly realized one thing… and that was he did not know where the fuck he was going. All he knew was that the dungeon should get easier if he were to head upwards towards the surface and that was about it. It might've been suicidal for him to do so and expose himself to the humans and gods above, but he'd cross that bridge once he got there. For now, he just needed to get out of there as death above would prove to be better than what awaited him down below, that is if his guess was correct.
He knew he was in Danmachi as not only did he find crystalline cores inside these monsters but these very monsters dissipated when he harvested them. There was also the fact that he could consume said crystal. He could be wrong and he was in an entirely different world but he had other, far more pressing matters to attend to. He didn't know how far down he was but thankfully, from what little knowledge he had on that setting, he wasn't too deep that he would be in deep shit. He was on the floor where minotaurs, or rather his kind, spawned in. Speaking of creatures…
Monsters spawned regularly as he wandered around, but they proved to be easy pickings as none of them were quite like the minotaurs. Hellhounds whose flaming fireballs proved to be terrifying chased after him while Crystal Mantis stalked the route he walked down through. If he were to find them spawning out of the walls, he had to break their necks before they even get the chance to push themselves out, a feat easy with his new found strength.
He wandered aimlessly, but there was a method to his madness. With his right hand against the walls, he traced his path hoping to either find the way up or the way down. If he were to find the way down, he merely had to wait for an adventurer and try to communicate with them. It was hopelessly optimistic, but it was the best he could do with his current situation. There wasn't even a guarantee that they spoke the same language but it wouldn't hurt to try. He could always try and chase after them to find the exit.
Underground and with the dim, yet constant light to illuminate his path, he found himself unable to even know how long it had been since he'd started. Had it been hours? Mere minutes? Or had it already been a day? All he knew was the road he'd picked stretched on without seeming end and filled with perils that wanted nothing more to rip his throat out.
With how big this place was, he wasn't surprised that he had yet to find any adventurers. Its sheer size gave the place a sense of desolation, a certain degree of isolation that not even an empty warehouse could replicate. It was a hostile and alien environment, one hell bent to kill him while taking some twisted perverse pleasure in doing so.
He rested from time to time, drinking when he could and eating when his stomach ached for sustenance. While the magic stones he looted could fill him, there was just something about eating food that made it far more valuable to him. He savored every bite of the rations he had while he merely consumed the stones he'd harvested.
He didn't know how long it took, but eventually he found a hint of a way out. Torch holders started lining the walls and he knew that he finally had something promising. Excitement filled his body as he started running towards the direction where the torches originated from. Elation filled his chest as he burst through a large open space leading to a spiral staircase heading up. Finally, a way to the floor above.
He was about to run up the stairs when an ear piercing scream, quickly followed by a roar, echoed from one of the many pathways leading back to the dungeon. For a moment, he stood there, torn on what to do. He could merely ignore the cry and say that they were a lost cause, a typical and cold hearted answer to his dilemma, or he could charge in and potentially risk his life. Was he really going to let someone die if he could actually help them?
He clenched his hands around the grip of his ax tightly before he let out a tired sigh as he turned to the direction of the scream. Holding his shield closely and bracing himself against it, he charged forward as the agonized cries of another adventurer rang from the same cave. He needed to get there before more got hurt.
The walls blurred around him as he thundered forward, his legs pumping and his lungs burning as he pulled in on his reserves. He had been walking for quite some time now and he had yet to properly rest, but he ignored his own fatigue as he charged straight right into danger. He arrived just in time to see a small wyvern tearing a man in half as a figure huddled against the corner, screaming their lungs out. They were inside a small room, a dead end to a branch of this labyrinth and littered around them were the various dismembered body parts of what used to be a human along with the slumped form of what looked like a child.
With a roar, he charged straight at the dragon and slammed his now armored shoulder against their neck. The undersized armor crumpled and deformed, but it helped him as the dragon staggered; its gaze unfocused. Taking advantage of the situation, he pressed forward as he lashed out with his blade. It was then that his luck ran out as the large ax he had been using all this time shattered.
With no weapon in hand he launched himself at the beast's head just as it recovered. He rained blows on the beast's eyes, gouging it before doing his best to drive his fist in inside the ruined hole while the creature struggled under his grip. He slammed repeatedly against the wall as the dragon did everything in its power to dislodge him, but it found that such violence wouldn't be enough to remove him.
One of them had to give and it wasn't him that dropped first. With a pained shriek, the dragon seized up as his fist finally slammed deep inside its brain case before it toppled forward with a mighty crash. As he pulled out his gore covered hand out of the hole he made, He slumped against its form to catch his breath. His eyes felt leaden but he forced them open as he turned to the person he tried to save.
He might've been too late to save the man that the wyvern snapped in half, but he was at least able to save them. As he turned to face the person they saved, he was promptly hit in the eye but an apple of all things, "Get away! I don't want to die! I don't even taste good!" The woman, who wore a stereotypical witches hat, screamed their lungs out as they looked at him with barely contained horror.
"What the fuck! Who throws an apple at their savior? Jeez," he spat out as he reached down for the apple with his non gore covered hand and slipped it inside his pouch. This only seemed to spur the woman to redouble their effort in pelting him with whatever item they could throw at him.
"No! I want to live!" The woman shrieked out in terror.
Forcing himself up and shielding himself from their impromptu projectiles, he reached up and grabbed the woman's face. The woman's muffled screams, with tears dribbling down her cheeks, made him feel terrible but all her screaming was going to attract who knows what monsters out there, "Shhhhh! Stop screaming! I'm not going to hurt you," he assured her as he was quickly met with a bewildered look.
"If you promise me you will not scream, I'll remove these hands, understand?" He asked and the young woman reluctantly nodded.
Slowly he pulled back, only to grab her once more as she tried to scream, "God damn it, like I said. I'm not going to hurt you!" He cursed out as he tried to think of a way to actually convince her before he nearly yanked his hand back when he felt something wet and slimy lick his hands. "What the hell, did you just lick my-!" his question would quickly be cut short as a roar echoed down the hallway leading to the room they were in.
The hairs in the back of his neck stood up as this roar was answered with howls and cries of other mothers as well. There was no way out aside from where they came from and with the sheer numbers of roars he heard, they'd effectively trapped him in with this girl. He had to fight for his life once again if he wanted to survive. He quickly let go as he grabbed whatever weapon he could find that fits his hands.
"No no no no!" the woman babbled as she rocked in place while he grabbed the sword of a headless dwarf, "We're going to die!" She screamed in despair, but she was quickly silenced as he gave her a light slap. She staggered and fell down on the floor while clutching her cheeks as she looked up at him
"No we're fucking not!" He roared back in anger as he marched up to a spear wielding corpse and yanked the weapon free of their hands. Forcing the haft of the spear onto the woman's hand, he added, "If you want to die, suit yourself, but I will not just sit here and accept my fate. If you want to be useful, use this spear!"
That snapped her out of her funk as she stood up before she answered back, "But I'm a healer! I'm not supposed to fight!" He could only thank the stars for this boon as he felt the very ground itself shake from the footsteps of the approaching horde. They were coming and there didn't seem to be an end to them.
"Well be of use for once and help me!" He fired back as he raised his shield and swung the sword around. It didn't have quite the heft of the ax he had earlier, but it was better than nothing. "You want to live so badly then fight for it! Don't just roll over and die. Kick and scream till the very end!" He encouraged her as placed himself before her, protecting her from the oncoming tide.
"B-but we're going to face a horde!" She shouted in warning as he watched her tremble but she held on to the spear like a trained warrior; good at least she wasn't dead weight, "There'll be tons of monsters! Even Minotaurs and Wyverns that should be rare around Floor 15!" She added but it was already far too late. They were here.
Up ahead was a sea of gleaming red eyes filled with hate as various monsters of all shapes and sizes rushed towards them. Raising his shield and bracing for impact, he shouted over the almost deafening roar of the stampede ahead of them.
"I don't care! Stand your ground and brace yourself!" He commanded as raised up his blade. Stab and push, stab and push, he reminded himself as the first of the monsters came at them. The innocent looking horned rabbits and hellhounds jumped at him with malicious intent, murder burning in their eyes, "Incoming!" He shouted before they slammed against his shield.
He could scarcely remember what happened next as, for the next hour or so, he kept stabbing and pushing whatever creature came his way. The entrance to the room served as an effective bottle neck, but the tide kept pushing so he kept stabbing. He could not rest for one bit lest he and the woman he saved would die. One slip up and they'd die a horrible death.
He cried out in pain as claws raked across his form, spikes stabbed him, fire burnt him, natural clubs bludgeoned him, and toothed maws bit him, but as soon as it seemed like he was faltering a wave of energy pulse from behind him. This magical effect was punctuated by a woman's cry as his wounds closed and allowed him to keep on fighting.
He lost blood, broke bones, and his left eye shut closed as the damage built up, but his knees kept him standing. True to her word, a minotaur showed up as well, but they quickly joined their brethren. He kept on stabbing and, when his weapon broke thanks to a particularly determined wyvern, he started punching till nothing was left moving.
By the end of it all, he was finally forced down to his knees as the last of the monsters died by his hands. As soon as the last of the monsters died, he felt the energy filling his veins leave him as he slumped forward. He was barely awake at this point, just cognizant enough to know that they actually survived this encounter. He was sporting countless cuts and bruises and he was pretty sure that he had a hole over his ruined stomach armor, but at least now it was over.
He felt something trying to turn him over and he didn't have the energy to fight back as he flopped over to his back. His chest heaved with effort as he looked up to see the shaking, yet unharmed form of the woman he saved. His eyes then locked on to the knife she clutched in her trembling hands. All this effort to save her just for things to end like this? He asked himself before a sardonic smile spread across his face.
As he closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable, one thought filtered into his mind, 'At Least I didn't truly become a monster in the end,' He whispered to himself as he braced for the pain that would soon follow, yet it never came. He heard a grunt as the tight bonds of his belly plate loosened up before a cool soothing sensation spread over his stomach.
He opened his eyes to find the woman staunching his wound and applying some miraculous, and clearly magical, balm over his wounds. Even as tears freely flowed down her eyes, she begged him, "P-please don't die. F-fight!"
He could only grin back as he felt his wounds heal. With the mound of corpses blocking the way out, he knew that they were safe for just a brief moment. They were safe and now he could finally close his eyes, "Just going to rest. Wake me up when there's danger," he asked her as he closed his eyes and found himself in Morpheus's embrace.
A/N:
I may or may not have been inspired by Asanagi's work on Danmachi but the idea of a Minotaur MC is just way to good to pass up. I haven't shown in yet and it is a bit of spoiler but the girl that the yet unnamed MC saved is a Kobeni expy and she's part of the Demeter Familia. As for why I'm going with the Demeter familia wrote, I actually want to explore what an Agriculture focused familia would want to harvest from the dungeon. I mean, there must be something useful there that could... wait, huh just realized that the pantry that monster enjoy could possibly be a powerful fertilizer as well. More for me to think about later. Anyways, that's all I have now for this and I do hope that this gets voted next voting season!
Waking up had always been an arduous task, especially after a long and tiring night. It was still dark and his body felt heavy but nature called and his stomach demanded to be filled. He needed to get out of bed, whether he liked it or not, and so he tried to get up but found himself unable to do so as the very world itself pressed down against him. The fog of sleep quickly wore off as he found that, not only was he unable to move, but he was also upright.
Confusion came first as he found himself not in his usual soft bed as the rough stony surface of his prison brushed against his skin. For a brief second, he thought he was paralyzed but he felt his muscles strain and his chest expand against the hard unyielding walls as if he were a toy inside a hard mold.
Panic soon followed as breathing got harder and harder, with each lung full of air becoming stiffer while his body demanded more. A sense of vertigo rocked his senses as he realized that he was going to suffocate if he didn't free himself this very instant. The beating of his heart pounded against his ears as he struggled in earnest, but the only reward he found was strength leaving his limbs.
Fear gripped his heart as he struggled harder, yet he could not budge an inch inside this stony coffin. A deep creeping realization that he really might die settled in, but he refused to give up. Finally, something gave way as he felt the walls in front of him crack with the tiniest breeze of fresh air filtering in. Like a man starved, he pressed his nose up against the crack and took in greedy breaths of air.
No longer starved of oxygen he could finally think, so he stopped struggling and took note of his situation. One, he was stuck. Two, whatever was encasing him was hard enough to stop him but not hard enough that it was unable to be destroyed. Three, he needed to get himself out as soon as possible. There was a way out of where he was and it was forward.
Using the very walls of his prison as leverage he pushed forward, trying to break open his rocky casket. Sweat dribbled down his body from the effort with the walls remaining as hard as ever, yet there was progress as the unmoving barrier started to crack and give way. Gritting his teeth, he struggled until finally his hands finally broke through and found empty space beyond.
Using his limbs as leverage he widened the hole he made before finally his torso popped out as well. Rock and debris rained down on his form and obscured his vision as it kicked up a dust cloud; which had him hacking his lungs out. Breathing was painful, but he powered through as he pulled himself free.
He fell down on the floor with an unceremonious thud, the cold unyielding floor pressing up against his naked form, but he didn't care for he was no longer trapped. Shakily, he pushed himself up and immediately noticed the dark, hair covered, and muscular pillars for arms beneath him. As he knelt up, he held up those arms and found themselves attached to his equally shaggy form. He wasn't just covered with body hair but actual fur. Beneath all this was dark leathery skin wrapped around a muscle bound form.
Shaking his head, he winced as it banged against the walls. He reached up to find large horns attached to the side of his head, "What the hell happened?" He groaned out, but a deep booming voice came out in place of his usually much softer one. As much as he wanted to find out, he had far more pressing matters like his current situation. Where was he?
Slowly he got up, but found himself unsteady as instead of feet he now stood on large hooves. He staggered a bit as he stood, unused to his new limbs; which wasn't helped much with his far heavier and bulkier form. With the walls as his guide he took slow and tentative steps which soon became confident strides. Pushing himself against the walls, he stood there for a time as he looked around and found himself inside of what could only be described as a large stone labyrinth.
From his position he found himself looking down upon twisting pathways with halls leading up and down in different directions with no end in sight. Looking up, he found the ceiling to be solid bedrock. Wherever he looked, all there ever was stone and even more stone. The fact that it was cold, damp, and humid made his lack of clothes all the more annoying to deal with. The only saving grace to his current location was that it was illuminated by the light from holes dotting the ceiling, but it was dim and barely able to illuminate the path ahead.
His musings would be cut short as he heard the tell tale sign of stone cracking behind him. He turned around and there he saw minotaur, with fur and horns similar to himself, freeing themselves from the wall. He was about to walk up to talk to them and ask what was going on but he stopped as a shiver of fear ran up his spine. As his eyes met those of the beings in front of him, he knew that they were but mere monsters.
Those soulless hateful gazes made him freeze up as they bellowed and roared out to the labyrinth. Saliva frothed out their snouts as they scrambled to their hooves. Their movement erratic while their muscles bulged with barely restrained violence. These were not civilized creatures but mere beasts beholden to their baser instincts, and they were out for blood.
He took a step back as his senses returned to him but it might have been better if he hadn't as their gazes locked onto him. Taking deep calming breaths to calm his beating heart, he forced himself to think. As big as these creatures were he outmassed them by a significant margin, however there were four of them and just one of him. They also showed no signs of fear as they stalked forward.
He did his best not to make any sudden movements as he tried to find a way out of there. The path they were on was narrow with one side leading to a sheer drop while the other was just hard unyielding walls. He could run, but he doubted that he could lose these things if he did. He could fight, but he had no weapons aside from his fists. The situation looked almost hopeless until he stepped on something metallic.
He looked down and found himself stepping atop the severed arm clutching a double handed ax. A trail of blood soon pointed him to the corpse of a man with a large wooden shield strapped to his back. He gagged, and almost puked, but he managed to keep it in as the monsters before him roared and charged right at him.
With little time to think, he grabbed the weapon and shield before standing his ground. If he was going to survive he needed to fight these bastards and kill them before they could kill him. Clutching the large shield on his left and the large double headed ax that felt more like a small hatchet in his other, he met them head on.
He had no training in using such weapons, but these creatures had no experience in fighting as they pushed and jostled each other while they ran towards him. Gritting his teeth and bracing himself he bashed his shield up against the cheek of the first minotaur. The creature staggered as he was pushed back only to drop as an ax swung on its exposed neck and decapitated the creature.
Blood gushed out of the open stump, but he had barely any time to process what had happened as a fist came crashing into his face with blows raining over his body. His vision swam but he held himself together as he clenched his jaw and pushed against them with his shield. Creating space, he swung his ax down, chopping and hacking as he raised his shield up to his nose.
It was bloody and brutal, with his ax biting into tough flesh and tearing at sinew as he yanked it out. Keeping his shield close he weathered their blows as he was forced to step back, but they bled while he remained mostly unharmed. One of them howled out in pain as his ax tore through the bovine's shoulder, leaving its arm hanging down on its side. Its momentary distraction was all he needed to hook its horns with the beard of his ax and yank him down. Distracted, it was quickly off balanced and sent tumbling down, leaving him with only two more to face.
He roared out in challenge as they kept on going, heedless of their comrades' deaths and their own injuries just to attack him. He lashed out, arms burning and muscles straining as he struck with his ax once more, burying it deep inside the skill of one of them. He could only curse as his ax got stuck there, forcing him to relinquish his weapon as he faced the last beast.
It charged right at him with its horn lowered to skewer him. By the skin of his teeth he managed to react and grab on to the horns as he was pushed back. He winced as the tips of the horns poked against his stomach while his hooves dug on the ground. Even as he pushed back, he was forced ever closer to the edge as the monster's reckless strength powering their smaller frame surprised him. With the last of his strength, he roared out as he twisted and turned the minotaur's head, which made the creature careen to the side and trip.
Pushing the creature's head down and pinning it's throat with his knee, he rained down punches on the downed monster. He roared out as he lashed out, punching even as his fists felt like they were breaking and refusing to stop until all that was left was a bloody smear and a headless twitching body. He raised his hand one more time only to stop as the creature before exploded into a cloud of dust and ash leaving him with nothing but a single horn as proof if ever existed. He knelt there panting as he watched the hard outer keratin of the horn peel away to reveal a red crystalline core in its shape.
Finally, it was over and he was left bloodied yet still very much alive. His head was ringing from the blow he took, his hands shaking with his grip loosened enough to drop the shield in his hand, his chest pounding and his lung burning as if he had just ran a marathon, but he bore no mark of injury aside from the bruise forming over his right eye and parts of his body. No longer subjected to danger, his mind could finally catch up and he heaved as his body tried to empty the contents of his stomach.
He gagged and coughed before he collapsed face first as weariness overtook him. He was dead tired and all he wanted was to close his eyes and sleep, but if he did he knew he'd die because this dungeon would surely kill him, "I need to… get to the surface," He groaned as he forced himself up and kept on going; he had an inkling on where he was and he did not want to stay any longer than needed in this demented dungeon if his gut feeling was correct.
Staggering up to his feet, he grabbed the minotaur horn drop and marched up to the slowly disintegrating body of the minotaur that had his ax. Stepping on the corpse for leverage, he pulled and yanked the blade free before he knelt down and sliced away at the meat. He searched around the chest area, slicing just below the sternum and inserting his hands inside. He reached up, feeling around before he found what he was looking for.
Grabbing hold of the hard object, he yanked it out and the corpse dissolved into dust just like the other creature. Blood flaked away leaving him with nothing but a pristine, palm size crystal in his hand. He held it up, inspecting its beauty and he ruminated on what to do with his prize. He could keep it and maybe try to sell it later, but he was a minotaur, a monster born of the dungeon, and he doubted he'd be able to convince an adventurer that he wasn't going to kill them, much less step outside and live a life in the city of the gods above.
He hesitated a bit, clutching the crystal before he opened his mouth a bite down on a magical item. It broke like candy as his molars crunched down on it and immediately, a jolt of energy filled his form and pool inside his chest. He felt his wounds heal while his body strengthened. It was as if he took a shot of espresso as energy filled his very limbs. Was it cannibalism for him to eat the core of a creature like him? Probably. Did he care? No, he didn't have time for it.
He then moved to the next corpse and harvested them as well for their core. It was a shame that he couldn't harvest the other minotaur after it fell off the cliff, but he was still left with a minotaur horn he was going to keep around and two stones that were quickly consumed. With the monsters stripped of their valuables, he moved on to the next corpse; that of the man he looted his new found ax and shield from.
He stood over the still body of the man who sported a gaping hole where his heart should be. The man's wide open eyes and stupefied expression told him that at least he died before he could even register what happened. He reached out and closed the man's eyes before giving the man a brief prayer. It was the least he could do for what he was about to do to him.
He started stripping the large man of anything of worth and value, leaving him only to his underwear. What little armor they had was strapped to his body. The greaves were a bit too small while the chest plate only served to cover his stomach, but it was much better than nothing. The clothes he looted were ripped to fit him. The cotton shirt proved to be especially useful as he ripped it to a long broad strip to serve as his loincloth to give him some semblance of modesty. The pants, meanwhile, were used to wrap his hands to give them a bit of reinforcement in case his weapon and shield gave way.
The rucksack the man had was filled with small stones along with some ruined potion bottles, a gourd, and some rations. Whatever killed him was probably chased off by his companions before they could even loot him. That meant more stuff for him to survive on. He made sure to remove the glass while making sure that the stones he found inside were kept sealed inside the sack; those could prove useful later.
Now equipped, he grabbed the nearest rock and stacked them atop of the man's body. He could have merely left him behind, but he was no mere brute. He refused to let the dungeon strip him of his humanity and render him down to an uncivilized monster. It only took a minute to cover them. With the undersized helmet to serve as the man's headstone, he apologized before turning his back and leaving.
As he walked around he quickly realized one thing… and that was he did not know where the fuck he was going. All he knew was that the dungeon should get easier if he were to head upwards towards the surface and that was about it. It might've been suicidal for him to do so and expose himself to the humans and gods above, but he'd cross that bridge once he got there. For now, he just needed to get out of there as death above would prove to be better than what awaited him down below, that is if his guess was correct.
He knew he was in Danmachi as not only did he find crystalline cores inside these monsters but these very monsters dissipated when he harvested them. There was also the fact that he could consume said crystal. He could be wrong and he was in an entirely different world but he had other, far more pressing matters to attend to. He didn't know how far down he was but thankfully, from what little knowledge he had on that setting, he wasn't too deep that he would be in deep shit. He was on the floor where minotaurs, or rather his kind, spawned in. Speaking of creatures…
Monsters spawned regularly as he wandered around, but they proved to be easy pickings as none of them were quite like the minotaurs. Hellhounds whose flaming fireballs proved to be terrifying chased after him while Crystal Mantis stalked the route he walked down through. If he were to find them spawning out of the walls, he had to break their necks before they even get the chance to push themselves out, a feat easy with his new found strength.
He wandered aimlessly, but there was a method to his madness. With his right hand against the walls, he traced his path hoping to either find the way up or the way down. If he were to find the way down, he merely had to wait for an adventurer and try to communicate with them. It was hopelessly optimistic, but it was the best he could do with his current situation. There wasn't even a guarantee that they spoke the same language but it wouldn't hurt to try. He could always try and chase after them to find the exit.
Underground and with the dim, yet constant light to illuminate his path, he found himself unable to even know how long it had been since he'd started. Had it been hours? Mere minutes? Or had it already been a day? All he knew was the road he'd picked stretched on without seeming end and filled with perils that wanted nothing more to rip his throat out.
With how big this place was, he wasn't surprised that he had yet to find any adventurers. Its sheer size gave the place a sense of desolation, a certain degree of isolation that not even an empty warehouse could replicate. It was a hostile and alien environment, one hell bent to kill him while taking some twisted perverse pleasure in doing so.
He rested from time to time, drinking when he could and eating when his stomach ached for sustenance. While the magic stones he looted could fill him, there was just something about eating food that made it far more valuable to him. He savored every bite of the rations he had while he merely consumed the stones he'd harvested.
He didn't know how long it took, but eventually he found a hint of a way out. Torch holders started lining the walls and he knew that he finally had something promising. Excitement filled his body as he started running towards the direction where the torches originated from. Elation filled his chest as he burst through a large open space leading to a spiral staircase heading up. Finally, a way to the floor above.
He was about to run up the stairs when an ear piercing scream, quickly followed by a roar, echoed from one of the many pathways leading back to the dungeon. For a moment, he stood there, torn on what to do. He could merely ignore the cry and say that they were a lost cause, a typical and cold hearted answer to his dilemma, or he could charge in and potentially risk his life. Was he really going to let someone die if he could actually help them?
He clenched his hands around the grip of his ax tightly before he let out a tired sigh as he turned to the direction of the scream. Holding his shield closely and bracing himself against it, he charged forward as the agonized cries of another adventurer rang from the same cave. He needed to get there before more got hurt.
The walls blurred around him as he thundered forward, his legs pumping and his lungs burning as he pulled in on his reserves. He had been walking for quite some time now and he had yet to properly rest, but he ignored his own fatigue as he charged straight right into danger. He arrived just in time to see a small wyvern tearing a man in half as a figure huddled against the corner, screaming their lungs out. They were inside a small room, a dead end to a branch of this labyrinth and littered around them were the various dismembered body parts of what used to be a human along with the slumped form of what looked like a child.
With a roar, he charged straight at the dragon and slammed his now armored shoulder against their neck. The undersized armor crumpled and deformed, but it helped him as the dragon staggered; its gaze unfocused. Taking advantage of the situation, he pressed forward as he lashed out with his blade. It was then that his luck ran out as the large ax he had been using all this time shattered.
With no weapon in hand he launched himself at the beast's head just as it recovered. He rained blows on the beast's eyes, gouging it before doing his best to drive his fist in inside the ruined hole while the creature struggled under his grip. He slammed repeatedly against the wall as the dragon did everything in its power to dislodge him, but it found that such violence wouldn't be enough to remove him.
One of them had to give and it wasn't him that dropped first. With a pained shriek, the dragon seized up as his fist finally slammed deep inside its brain case before it toppled forward with a mighty crash. As he pulled out his gore covered hand out of the hole he made, He slumped against its form to catch his breath. His eyes felt leaden but he forced them open as he turned to the person he tried to save.
He might've been too late to save the man that the wyvern snapped in half, but he was at least able to save them. As he turned to face the person they saved, he was promptly hit in the eye but an apple of all things, "Get away! I don't want to die! I don't even taste good!" The woman, who wore a stereotypical witches hat, screamed their lungs out as they looked at him with barely contained horror.
"What the fuck! Who throws an apple at their savior? Jeez," he spat out as he reached down for the apple with his non gore covered hand and slipped it inside his pouch. This only seemed to spur the woman to redouble their effort in pelting him with whatever item they could throw at him.
"No! I want to live!" The woman shrieked out in terror.
Forcing himself up and shielding himself from their impromptu projectiles, he reached up and grabbed the woman's face. The woman's muffled screams, with tears dribbling down her cheeks, made him feel terrible but all her screaming was going to attract who knows what monsters out there, "Shhhhh! Stop screaming! I'm not going to hurt you," he assured her as he was quickly met with a bewildered look.
"If you promise me you will not scream, I'll remove these hands, understand?" He asked and the young woman reluctantly nodded.
Slowly he pulled back, only to grab her once more as she tried to scream, "God damn it, like I said. I'm not going to hurt you!" He cursed out as he tried to think of a way to actually convince her before he nearly yanked his hand back when he felt something wet and slimy lick his hands. "What the hell, did you just lick my-!" his question would quickly be cut short as a roar echoed down the hallway leading to the room they were in.
The hairs in the back of his neck stood up as this roar was answered with howls and cries of other mothers as well. There was no way out aside from where they came from and with the sheer numbers of roars he heard, they'd effectively trapped him in with this girl. He had to fight for his life once again if he wanted to survive. He quickly let go as he grabbed whatever weapon he could find that fits his hands.
"No no no no!" the woman babbled as she rocked in place while he grabbed the sword of a headless dwarf, "We're going to die!" She screamed in despair, but she was quickly silenced as he gave her a light slap. She staggered and fell down on the floor while clutching her cheeks as she looked up at him
"No we're fucking not!" He roared back in anger as he marched up to a spear wielding corpse and yanked the weapon free of their hands. Forcing the haft of the spear onto the woman's hand, he added, "If you want to die, suit yourself, but I will not just sit here and accept my fate. If you want to be useful, use this spear!"
That snapped her out of her funk as she stood up before she answered back, "But I'm a healer! I'm not supposed to fight!" He could only thank the stars for this boon as he felt the very ground itself shake from the footsteps of the approaching horde. They were coming and there didn't seem to be an end to them.
"Well be of use for once and help me!" He fired back as he raised his shield and swung the sword around. It didn't have quite the heft of the ax he had earlier, but it was better than nothing. "You want to live so badly then fight for it! Don't just roll over and die. Kick and scream till the very end!" He encouraged her as placed himself before her, protecting her from the oncoming tide.
"B-but we're going to face a horde!" She shouted in warning as he watched her tremble but she held on to the spear like a trained warrior; good at least she wasn't dead weight, "There'll be tons of monsters! Even Minotaurs and Wyverns that should be rare around Floor 15!" She added but it was already far too late. They were here.
Up ahead was a sea of gleaming red eyes filled with hate as various monsters of all shapes and sizes rushed towards them. Raising his shield and bracing for impact, he shouted over the almost deafening roar of the stampede ahead of them.
"I don't care! Stand your ground and brace yourself!" He commanded as raised up his blade. Stab and push, stab and push, he reminded himself as the first of the monsters came at them. The innocent looking horned rabbits and hellhounds jumped at him with malicious intent, murder burning in their eyes, "Incoming!" He shouted before they slammed against his shield.
He could scarcely remember what happened next as, for the next hour or so, he kept stabbing and pushing whatever creature came his way. The entrance to the room served as an effective bottle neck, but the tide kept pushing so he kept stabbing. He could not rest for one bit lest he and the woman he saved would die. One slip up and they'd die a horrible death.
He cried out in pain as claws raked across his form, spikes stabbed him, fire burnt him, natural clubs bludgeoned him, and toothed maws bit him, but as soon as it seemed like he was faltering a wave of energy pulse from behind him. This magical effect was punctuated by a woman's cry as his wounds closed and allowed him to keep on fighting.
He lost blood, broke bones, and his left eye shut closed as the damage built up, but his knees kept him standing. True to her word, a minotaur showed up as well, but they quickly joined their brethren. He kept on stabbing and, when his weapon broke thanks to a particularly determined wyvern, he started punching till nothing was left moving.
By the end of it all, he was finally forced down to his knees as the last of the monsters died by his hands. As soon as the last of the monsters died, he felt the energy filling his veins leave him as he slumped forward. He was barely awake at this point, just cognizant enough to know that they actually survived this encounter. He was sporting countless cuts and bruises and he was pretty sure that he had a hole over his ruined stomach armor, but at least now it was over.
He felt something trying to turn him over and he didn't have the energy to fight back as he flopped over to his back. His chest heaved with effort as he looked up to see the shaking, yet unharmed form of the woman he saved. His eyes then locked on to the knife she clutched in her trembling hands. All this effort to save her just for things to end like this? He asked himself before a sardonic smile spread across his face.
As he closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable, one thought filtered into his mind, 'At Least I didn't truly become a monster in the end,' He whispered to himself as he braced for the pain that would soon follow, yet it never came. He heard a grunt as the tight bonds of his belly plate loosened up before a cool soothing sensation spread over his stomach.
He opened his eyes to find the woman staunching his wound and applying some miraculous, and clearly magical, balm over his wounds. Even as tears freely flowed down her eyes, she begged him, "P-please don't die. F-fight!"
He could only grin back as he felt his wounds heal. With the mound of corpses blocking the way out, he knew that they were safe for just a brief moment. They were safe and now he could finally close his eyes, "Just going to rest. Wake me up when there's danger," he asked her as he closed his eyes and found himself in Morpheus's embrace.
A/N:
I may or may not have been inspired by Asanagi's work on Danmachi but the idea of a Minotaur MC is just way to good to pass up. I haven't shown in yet and it is a bit of spoiler but the girl that the yet unnamed MC saved is a Kobeni expy and she's part of the Demeter Familia. As for why I'm going with the Demeter familia wrote, I actually want to explore what an Agriculture focused familia would want to harvest from the dungeon. I mean, there must be something useful there that could... wait, huh just realized that the pantry that monster enjoy could possibly be a powerful fertilizer as well. More for me to think about later. Anyways, that's all I have now for this and I do hope that this gets voted next voting season!
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