Pounding footsteps, as the remainder of our guild raced towards the door at the end of the hallway like a pack of ravenous wolves.
That should be the throne room...
I gradually came to a halt at the gate and so did the rest of the guild.
"Alright guys, this is it..." I took in a deep breath, and gently pushed open the door with one extended hand. To my surprise the door gave in with ease, with no magic booby trap or locks what so ever.
I stepped forward, and the rest of the guild followed.
The throne room was just like I remembered from the TV, except now seeing it in person, it was like 10 times more fancier. And there at the end of the hallway sitting upon the fancy golden throne was none other then the fk boi king himself. Standing guard beside him, was a tall figure with a stature harder then steel, decked out in full majestic golden armor that gave away this aura like one of bright radiant dawn.
Rank 1 world huh...
My eyes narrowed at the figure.
"Yo, 儿子来了？不叫声爸爸？" Wang Tao's voice boomed across the massive chamber.
"爷爷我可没有你这样的孙子。" I taunted back.
"儿子赢了一次，就敢跟爸爸曾鼻子上脸." Wang Tao shoot up from his throne at once and pointed a finger at me. "信不信爸爸现在就教你做人! Micheal! Beat his ass!"
Micheal stepped forth off the dais, and I couldn't help but flinch for a moment. Afterall the rumors...
Another step from Micheal, and we all found ourselves subconsciously backing off one step.
I drew in a sharp breath and quickly sharply breathed out again.
"We came this far guys." I said, facing forward at the enemies. "No point running now." I gulped.
"Might as well fight, or else why bother coming this far?" I looked back at my guild, and there was a hesitant nod among them.
"Either way, we are going down one way or another." I turned back to Micheal. "It's rather we die fighting or we die trying."
A grin spread across my face.
"Alright, let's do this."
Q: How do you face your fears?
STAI LEGGENDO
This Game Called Life
FantasyA drunk Russian communist warrior. An angry Rogue cursing in Cantonese. An Italian who would sooner shoot people dead with words then with his arrows. An African American pointed his wand around like a gun, then pulled its imaginary trigger. And t...
