Stepping into the eighth level, Owen braced himself for what was to come, yet the transformation before his eyes was wholly unexpected.
The walls vanished in an instant, the ground morphed into grass, and a forest appeared ahead.
With a sense of déjà vu, Owen entered the woodland.
It was as though he saw a horde of orcs leaping from the trees, roaring as they charged towards the small circle formed by Owen's royal guards.
Under his command, the guards remained unflappable, their greatswords held steady.
As the leading orcs closed to within half a meter of their blades, the guards suddenly exerted force, stepping forward to pierce the heart of an orc with a single thrust, then stepped back to hold their position.
Every motion was as practiced, except this was no drill.
Drawn forward a few steps involuntarily, Owen felt his current standing point was exactly where the royal guards had been arrayed.
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!