Called Upon

Chapter 17

         The old man stood at the center of the arena being cheered by the crowd. Bearing in mind his opponent, he predicted his victory.

In the heart of the arena, the old man stood, his eyes blazing with a fierce determination. He had been led to believe that he would be facing a Cyclops in the arena, an opponent that he believed he could easily defeat. But as the gates of the underworld creaked open, a sight that chilled him to his very core appeared.

Cerberus, the three-headed beast of the underworld burdened with five horns emerged from the depths of Hades. His eyes glowed with an otherworldly light, and his jaws dripped with saliva as he growled menacingly. The old man's heart skipped a beat as he realized the true nature of his opponent.

Without wasting any time, Cerberus lunged forward, his three heads snapping in perfect harmony towards the old man. The man, driven by instinct, swiftly sidestepped the attack, narrowly avoiding the ferocious bites. He could feel the hot breath of Cerberus brushing against his skin as he danced around the beast, desperate to find a way to defend himself.

As Cerberus snapped at the air, the old man continued his evasive maneuvers. He ducked and rolled, narrowly escaping the slam of Cerberus's massive paws. Each movement was calculated, fueled by survival instinct and a longing for existence.

But realization dawned upon the old man - he could not simply evade forever. Cerberus was relentless in his pursuit. With beads of sweat forming on his forehead, the old man desperately searched for a weapon to match the monstrous strength before him.

And then, as if a gift from the gods themselves, a sword materialized in the old man's hand. It gleamed with a divine radiance, its grip vibrating with the essence of power. With his newfound resolve and an immense surge of determination, the old man assessed his opponent with renewed courage.

With a mighty roar, Cerberus lunged once more, teeth gnashing and claws striking. But this time, the old man was prepared. He raised the sword, its blade shimmering, and parried Cerberus's attack with a swift and precise movement.

Sparks flew as the old man's sword clashed against Cerberus's teeth, the strength of the beast matched by the newfound power of the old man's weapon. The crowd gasped in awe as the old man defied the odds, holding his own against the formidable creature.

Undiscouraged by the initial clash, Cerberus lunged forward again, aiming to sink his fangs deep into the old man's flesh. But the old man had found his rhythm. With strategic precision, he spun around, using the length of his sword to slash at Cerberus's exposed neck.

The beast howled in pain as one of its heads fell to the ground, severed by the old man's blade. But the fight was far from over. Cerberus lunged again and again, using his remaining two heads to bring the old man down.

Yet, the old man became one with his weapon. He anticipated Cerberus's every move, dodging and striking, his motions fluid and confident. With each swing of his sword, he inflicted deep cuts on the remaining heads of the beast, weakening it with every blow.

Finally, with sweat streaming down his face and muscles burning, the old man seized the perfect opportunity. As Cerberus lunged forward for a final attack, the old man gripped his sword with unwavering strength and drove it straight into the beast's heart.

Cerberus let out a bone-chilling howl, its body convulsing before collapsing in a heap on the ground. The arena erupted in applause, the crowd roaring with admiration for the old man's triumph over the monstrous creature.

Covered in the beast's blood, the old man stood there, a mix of exhaustion and awe in his eyes. Against all odds, he had emerged victorious. His name would forever be celebrated, a testament to the power of inner strength and the courage to face even the most formidable opponents.

After a while later after his achievement, the carcass of Cerberus started disintegrating into the air, leaving at the center of his corpse a golden chests. The old man approached the chest, unclosed it, and found within its grasp an object. He lifted it from the box and it was one of the horns of Cerberus which later disintegrated while in his hand.

Later the spectators endured the same fate by following the specks of lives above. It left the old man kneeling amidst a white background which later dazzled abound.