Without warning, Luka's knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground, his hands dropping uselessly.
All around him, the liquid of the dead slimes pooled.
It seemed like everything was swimming in front of him, the world spinning.
His long dagger clattered to the ground, falling beside him with a dull thud.
Luka's fingers twitched, but the effort to reach for it was too much.
Instead, he fell onto his stomach, the cool ground pressing against his cheek.
His body ached in every corner, as though it had been stretched to its limits—and then some.
With great effort, Luka forced himself to roll onto his back, his chest heaving with every breath.
The ceiling of the dungeon seemed distant, and the sound of his heartbeat pulsed in his ears, loud and steady.
Luka's eyes fluttered shut for a moment.
He didn't care about the XP anymore.
He didn't care about the slimes.
All that mattered now was the unbearable weight of his own body, screaming for rest.
Suddenly—
