The Battle of the Guardian

The Guardian reveals his true form, and he stares directly into your eyes. 

A mighty warrior from past eons. 

His former glory withered over time. 

A curse bounds him to guard the door. 

Waiting for a worthy challenger. 

He starts to speak. 

"A word of warning, Traveler. Fail my challenge and I will harvest your soul." 

He pauses for a moment and points to the pit. 

"Those are all the countless souls, who failed my great trial. They thought they could best me. Me? Can you imagine?" 

He lets out an eerie laugh. A hysterical and humanlike laughter. You get a glimpse of his last slither of humanity.   

"None have mastered my trial. Oh yes, there was only one. But I believe he is long gone, too." 

He nods and reminisces about past contestants. 

You break the silence. 

"Tell me, great guardian. What grand trial do you have in mind?" 

Again, he stares into your eyes. Mustering your strength and will.   

"Tell me first: Do you accept my challenge? Only then I can give you one." 

You draw your sword and point it with deadly precision towards the guardian's head. 

"Yes. I accept." 

The guardian surprised by the sheer determination.   

"Splendid!  Your challenge is: Best me in combat and make me yield. I don't break easy, and I would rather die than yield." 

And as soon those words escaped his ghostly mouth. 

A fierce battle ensues.