The Laughing Swordsman

Otis the second was walking down a set of stone steps. There was only a dark void in front of him. The steps appeared to lead him to the abyss.

"...Coward."

He was mumbling to himself.

Otis tightly clenched his fists while he bit his lip.

"Coward!"

He stopped for a moment to punch the wall. It hardly did anything to the wall, other than splatter his blood on it.

Then, he continued.

He took in a shaky deep breath.

"Father... I'm sorry."

Otis looked down. His eyes closed, letting a few tears drop to the ground.

"If your son... was just a little braver."

...

Otis had a vision.

It was of his father.

"Son... When you are ready, try to inherit the legacy of our family."

Otis nodded enthusiastically.

"Ok, I'm ready!"

His father chuckled.

"Hey, not so fast. The legacy is very, very dangerous. You will lose your life if you are not careful. On top of that, you only have one chance to inherit the legacy."

His father sighed.

"Don't be like your dad, who did it too hastily..."

He smiled bitterly.

"And failed."

Otis blinked innocently.

"What is the legacy?"

His father's expression became solemn.

"It will give you the power to carry the entire family on your back."

Otis smiled.

"Wow!"

...

Otis had an ugly frown on his face.

"I... should've been the one to carry our family."

He grit his teeth.

"But now, there is nothing left to carry."

Otis' breaths became unsteady.

"All I had to do... was inherit the legacy. Then you would still be alive."

Otis hit himself in the head.

"Then... mother would still be alive."

He reached the bottom of the staircase.

With a flash, torches on the side of the wall lit up.

Otis squinted his eyes and covered them with one hand.

Once his vision adjusted, he saw a massive room made from marble.

There were countless large metal torches inlaid across the walls. They held a bright red flame that danced as though it were a beast.

Every fifty meters or so, the floor would elevate. It was almost like the whole room was just a giant staircase.

At the back, there was a stone statue of a dragon.

The craftsman must've been a master that put their heart and soul into this work. Every detail, from the tips of its claw to the indent of the scale were meticulously defined.

The dragon was emanating an overbearing presence even though it was inanimate. Its lofty head stared down everything in the room as though everything was beneath him.

The dragon's wings were spread out, spanning the entire width of the room, almost like it understood how majestic it was, daring something to challenge it.

Otis stared at the dragon for a few moments before making his way towards it.

He frowned.

He could already feel a force weighing down on him, making him recall a memory.

Otis saw his father holding up a finger.

"First! Before you do anything else, the room of legacies will force you to bear pressure!"

Otis closed his eyes. The vision of his father became clearer.

"As long as you are in this room, you will bear this pressure! The farther you get, the stronger this pressure gets. You must have a strong heart to resist it, else you will die on the spot!"

Otis took a deep breath.

"I understand, dad. A strong heart."

The pressure already felt suffocating at the outermost edge of the room.

Otis steeled his mind before proceeding to take a step forward.

There was no going back now.

The force weighing down on him pulsated like the beat of a heart. Every second, the sudden impact would threaten to force him down on his knees.

Adrenaline flowed through Otis' body, but his body was weak.

The pressure already forced his muscles to be stretched taut. This was harder than he ever imagined it to be.

However, he marched forward confidently. His pace was slow but steadier than a mountain.

The anger burning in his heart refused to let him back down.

After a few arduous minutes, he made it to the first step.

The step was roughly a meter high, forcing Otis to use his arms to climb up.

Otis' mind suddenly blanked out.

He saw his father stare at him intently.

"Once you make it to the first step, you will come across a sudden increase in pressure."

His father's voice became solemn.

"However, there is no time to adjust! Two skeletons will be released onto that step. While they don't have the most refined movements, they are immortal."

His father's eyes narrowed.

"Don't try to kill them. Focus on moving onto the next step and they will naturally leave you alone."

Otis grit his teeth and forced his consciousness to come back to him.

Far off to the left and right, the walls opened like a door. A skeleton on each side was revealed.

The skeletons were dirty. Their bones had a moldy yellow color. It was as though they were dirty dishes that had been stained with oil because they weren't cleaned properly.

A few cracks snaked across their body. This was especially so for their skulls. It almost looked like a spider web was wrapped around their heads.

A longsword was in their bony hands.

Contrary to their weathered bodies, the longsword was shone with a bright luster.

The longswords were well polished and could easily be mistaken for a newly made sword.

The skeletons held onto the swords dearly, like it was their long lost lover.

The sound of clattering bones filled the room.

The skeletons were running towards Otis, swords raised high in the air.

As for Otis, his eyes narrowed.

The inner corner of his eyebrows tried to dig into his eyes.

"Nothing will stop me! Not anymore..."

His legs strained themselves to walk forward.

However, despite his determination, Otis' pace was slow.

The skeletons reached Otis easily before he had even traversed ten meters.

Their longswords fell down, about to strike Otis' neck.