It was far worse then Steve thought.

“Oh god, I’m going too” he turned to the side and began heaving.

Somehow this man was still kicking it. His chest was impaled with an arrow, his legs mangled, and his throat now gashed open. While Steve could dissect a corpse without issue. That warm blood gushing onto his wrist was too much. The fresh smell of coppery ichor scorching his nose. He pulled out the dagger with a wet–Schlick. Each bloodshot eye staring deeply into his soul with a look of pure betrayal. Screams shifted to guttural gurgles as the blood flooded the lungs. His head drooped and skin turned white as the crimson liquid drained from the veins.

“JUST DIE ALREADY” Steve was starting to freak out from the whole experience.

How much endurance did this [Lackey] have? Anyone else should have perished at this point. Hell, he should have died when he became a zombie chow. Even now, blackened veins formed in his arms as the infections took hold. His skin was clammy with sweat and grime, but he kept fighting. He had to end this. He couldn’t take it anymore. Clenching his dagger, he aimed for the man’s heart. Stabbing forward, the flesh parted for the sharp steel.

But his grip was weakened from the blood and it slipped. The weapon bounced off the bone and punctured a lung. Immediately, the man bent over and began to tremble. Sickening gasps of gargled air left the dying man’s throat. His weight pressed into Steve and the [Friend of the Dead] did his best to scramble back. Blood soaked through his clothes and the sticky icky liquid spread across his skin.

“No no no, I’m sorry I didn’t mean” He pushed the Bandit off and shook off what he could.

The bandit fell onto his back, a mangled, bloody, groaning mess. Each breath labored and filled with pain. Those eyes staring back with strange clarity, a single unspoken phrase burning into Steve’s brain.

“This is your fault” it said

He couldn’t take it anymore. Steve held his dagger with both hands and plunged down into the skull. A visceral scream crossed his lips as he put all his strength into the strike. That sharpened point cracked open the skull and slipped right into the brain behind. Steve breathed deep and focused on his time in the cave. He needed anything to distract his thoughts as the death spasms took hold. With one last twitch, the man was sent to the other side. Steve paused briefly to contemplate what happened. That wasn’t clean, that wasn’t fun, that was one of the worst things he’d witnessed. But it was done,

“OH Shi….” He muttered as he remembered this was a full fight.

But he was too slow, a faint whistle was heard before.

Schunk

The arrow smashed into his shoulder and through the back. Instantly his arm went numb as the nerves were cut from the sharp metal. He reached up to pull it out, but remembered his training. He needed cover, now. Diving to the ground, he narrowly avoided the second shot. That dangerous munition flying overhead and smashing into a distant tree. It was so stupid, he was too focused on the dying man to watch the others. He waited for the third arrow before responding with his own [Death Bolt]. His other arm started to go cold. He was reaching the end of his mana-reserves and needed a potion fast. He had to get back his pouch and supplies. Yet, all of his stuff was sitting by the fire. Glancing over, he noticed the zombie had engaged the leader. At least that would buy him some time. Yet; without help, he was about to be target practice.

“RYLAND COULD USE SOME HELP” He called out

“See I told you there was somebody else. No way that one man could have done all this” The archer said to his friend.

“Ok sure, what difference does it make?” He replied

“Look you watch out for a thief or god forbid some [Assassin]. Might be under some camouflage or invisibility skill. Just look for anything weird and cover me. I’ll take care of the caster”

“Got it.” He activated another skill to increase his perspective and carefully watched for this “Ryland”

Ryland shoved one last bit of dirt into the leader’s eyes. He had to give his body some advantage before rushing to save his friend…again. After tonight, Steve better find a way to get his body back cause this was getting ridiculous. Scooping up a bit more dust, he ran across the field to blind the sniper. Unfortunately, he was quickly met with his arch-nemesis: Goggles. Two pieces of enchanted glass sat in a leather strap. They were basic equipment that helped in low-light conditions. Additionally, it had a hidden perk of halting trickster ghosts wandering the forest.

There wasn’t much else that he could do. He picked up a pebble and threw it, but it didn’t even disrupt his focus. He really needed to sit and have a long chat with Steve about this. They needed to come up with some action-plans for future encounters. A pebble and a piddly spell were not going to cut it in this world. While dust was great as a surprise, it didn’t do much in the grand scheme of things. He needed an army of squirrels or some other undead creatures to command. He was going to be the vermin king! Ryland shook his head, he was getting distracted again and needed to focus. The next arrow was being loaded and the bow began to bend under the pressure. He needed to act now! Without many other options, Ryland reached out and tapped into that wellspring of energy. He pushed as much power into his palm right as the arrow was shot.

Holding out his hand, the projectile easily pierced the ghostly appendage. A sense of fatigue sent him stumbling as he interacted with the world. While it wasn’t enough to halt the shot, it did disrupt the path for it to miss.

“Damn missed again” the archer cursed.

He too was feeling the sluggishness of the fight. His arm was burning up as the muscles were pushed to the limit. If they made it out, he’d need to rest for a week. He carefully circled his arm, trying to get the blood flowing. Everything was sore and he could feel the bones popping. Whatever the hell that spell was, had really done a number. His brain was screaming to sleep, but he pushed back those thoughts. If he dozed off now, it’d be the end of them.

“Stamina potion. I need one now. I can already tell my next shot will only clear half the distance”

“I couldn’t find the key! What you want me to do?”

“Fuck the key and smash it open! Are you stupid?”

“What! Boss said if we break it he’d break our heads”

“Damn the boss and damn this crew. I’m not ending up zombie chow cause we are too cheap to buy a potion” He dropped his bow and reached for the bag.

“No, we can’t do this” The swordsman slapped his hand aside.

“I’m not fighting you. But don’t stop me! If you wanna blame me, do it. I’d rather the chance at some bruises then eaten alive”

The swordsman paused briefly. It was a good case, either die tonight. Or deal with the boss’ anger later. Maybe they could lie and say it accidentally opened. Nodding he handed off the enchanted satchel to the sniper.

Reaching into his boot, he grabbed the hidden knife. It wasn’t the sharpest thing and was mostly used as a last resort but it should do. Holding the bag taught, he slipped the point into the fiber and began to saw. It was a lot tougher then he’d expected, taking up much of his strength just to cut through the enchantments. Least the boss didn’t skip on protection. A few flashes of light later and the runes were shattered. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he continued to cut through the now normal satchel until.

“That bastard!” He stared at the contents in disbelief.

“What?”

“There aint anything in here. He cheated us!” He tossed the bag to the side in anger.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

“Wait what! He took 10% of everyone’s cut for supplies. Said healers were experienced, just chug a potion to fix it.” He too was in shock.

“Well, nothing in that bag. I swear he just pocketed the gold and lied to our faces” He was pissed. A man was only as good as his word and that word was like wet paper.

“I’m done. Fuck this!” He said in anger.

“Done? You can’t just be done!” The swordsman replied

“Ya heard me, I aint joining our buddy over there” He pointed to the torn up body.

“HEY YOU, YOU LISTENING?” He called out.

“What are you doing?” the swordsman whispered back.

“Just shut up and let me do the talking” He replied.

“BOSSMAN CHEATED US. I AIN’T LOOKIN TO DIE TONIGHT AND I THINK YOU EITHER. HOW ABOUT WE CALL IT QUITS AND SPLIT FOR THE NIGHT. I DIDN’T SEE NOTHIN”

“You can’t be serious, if we desert, the boss is gonna put a hit on us. You know the rules!” He was trembling, while he was a bandit he did have a sense of honor.

“Bossman broke the road’s cut stealing from his men. This aint cheating in cards, this is fucking with our hard earned money!”

“Ya but..”

“Plus don’t look like the boss is winning tonight” He pointed at the duel between the man and zombie.

It was not going well for him at all. Thankfully the constant attack of dust and dirt stopped, but it had done some damage. One eye was completely swollen shut, the lid drooping over and cutting off his vision. The other wasn’t faring much better, only cracked half open and producing a flood of tears. He was looking like a ragged mess in the moonlight, barely able to evade the swiping claws from the undead creature. Even still, he occasionally stumbled as he stepped onto the swinging trousers wrapped around the right ankle. It was only through instinct and superior levels was he able to resist the assault. Ducking down, he rolled along the grass to gain some distance. Turning back towards the two others he called out.

“WHAT IN THE HELLS ARE YOU TWO SCUMBAGS DOING. GET OVER HERE AND HELP”

That pause was nearly the death of him as the claw lunged forward. His arm rocked as he parried the sharpened nails met his blade. Even still, the arm glazed his side leaving deep scratch marks in the skin. They were beyond useless. He was going to kick both of them out the moment it was over. What good were henchmen if they couldn’t stop a single man. Seriously, it was a 2 v 1 against a weak mage. The man can’t even cast a basic [Fireball]! What was taking them so long? Shaking off the bad vibes, he channeled his rage into his current foe. He would beat those weaklings later, for now he had to end this fast.

Focusing up, he studied his opponent. Both sizing the other up, trying to find a weakness to exploit. It was a bit unfair, one wrong move and he’d get disemboweled. While this…thing would rapidly regenerate any damage done. If only those dumbasses didn’t get eaten, zombies were easily slain on an empty stomach. A fully engorged one was a pain to deal with. But that pool of energy would run out eventually and then it was easy pickings. He had two options, a clean decapitation or death by one thousand and one cuts.

The creature went in for another attack. Shifting his stance, he adjusted his grip to counter. Ducking down, he swung low in an attempt to slice the leg. However, it was just a feint. His blade met air as the zombie pivoted and went in for a kick. Everything slowed as his brain tried to process what happened. Zombies were simple, they didn’t kick. They bit and clawed, a singular goal to consume anything living. That action quickly shifted his perspective, this thing had some intelligence.

He was too slow to dodge the attack, instead he activated one of his defensive skills. [Abs of Steel]. Muscles hardened and his obliques flexed extra tight. His body taking on peak physical condition for a man of his stature. Even Ryland was a bit jealous of those clear-cut abdominal muscles. That bandit looked like he was a carved statue in an ancient temple. While sharp, those infected nails couldn’t penetrate that perfectly sculpted core. Each one bending and snapping as it dragged along the bumpy ridges. The creature looked at his mangled hand in shock, what just happened? But that brief moment of surprise was interrupted by the flickering blade arcing through the sky. Ryland’s body tried to deflect the blade, but it was far too powerful. In one smooth swing, its arm was sliced off. Both watched as the butchered limb rolled across the dirt. He exhaled as the skill wore off and smiled

“Not so tough now are you?” he taunted. One appendage down, 3 more to go.

“Ok well he wasn’t winning but still, don’t like the chances of it. I say we truce, change our names, and get the hell outta here” The sniper said.

While his boss did get a bit of a advantage, he was still burning through skills like crazy. Besides, if they made enough distance then they’d be free and clear for a bit. Might get enough money scavenged to get their faces sculpted. It would drain them of their accounts, but once again. Better than dead. He turned towards the swordsman.

“So what you say?” he asked.

“...”

“Fine” he clearly wasn’t happy, but logic ruled out in the end.

“SO, TRUCE?” He called back out.

“How do I know you’ll not just shoot me in the back?” Steve responded.

Damn, he honestly should’ve just done that. Well…they were just some lowly bandits, not great strategists. Still, there was a bit of honor running through them and breaking a truce was bad luck in the eyes of most gods. Better to keep it honest then piss off the pantheon.

“I’ll throw my bow out and he’ll toss the sword. Can you just leave em be for a bit so we can grab later. That thing cost me like 3 gold to buy.”

“Toss it first then we talk!” Steve wasn’t going to risk it.

“...Fine” He threw his bow far across the field.

“I’m not giving up my sword. Why would you even say that?” The swordsman complained.

“Just throw it, we can grab it later. I doubt that man will stick around for long anyway”

“No”

“I swear. If you get me killed I am going to beat the hell out of you at the gates of Deas. Just throw the fucking sword”

“...Fine. But if this doesn’t work out. You are buying a new one”

“Fine”

The swordsman tossed the sword and raised his hand.

“SEE TRUCE?” The archer called.

Steve took a few moments to ponder it. But what other options did he have? He was down to one or two more casts anyway. Better this than fighting it out. He’d die either way, at least with a truce there was a chance to finish the battle.

“FINE GET OUT”

The two fled the fight and ran back down the road. Both leaving their great leader behind and hoping for his death. If he somehow made it out, they’d be in for a horrible fate.

With the two nuisances taken care of, Ryland and Steve wandered back to the deadly duel. His body was being pressured by the smiling man. All sense of self-preservation was gone and he was swinging that sword like a lunatic. Ryland could feel the sense of panic on his bond, already his energy was rapidly dwindling with the missing arm. He had taken to leaving the smaller cuts and gashes alone, instead focusing on the larger injuries to stay moving.

Ryland turned to Steve and immediately the [Friend of the Dead] felt the connection. His skill tingling as a mutual understanding was met. Steve couldn’t wait to see what the power of friendship could really do. Grabbing his dagger, he charged into the duel ready to help out his buddy. Immediately, the leader turned and screamed.

“THIS IS BETWEEN US!” And punched Steve so hard in the gut he was sent tumbling.

“What the hell was that Steve?” Ryland said in shock.

Steve coughed up a bit of blood and turned back.

“I thought you wanted to attack! So I started to attack.

“Steve, you are a caster. What did you think was going to happen? Besides, you didn’t even try to be stealthy, you just ran at him.” Ryland knelt by his friend.

“Well! What do you think I should have done then?”

“Stay back, let me hit him with my fist of dirt special. Then you follow up with…whatever you do.”

“Ok ok, got it” Steve nodded

Ryland shook his head in disappointment. At least his body could hold up for a minute or two longer. Seriously, he said it before but it was VERY apparent. This man couldn’t fight and he’d need a bit of training before the next encounter. Grabbing some dirt once more, he ignored the flailing sword and stepped into the battle. Tossing the dust in the air, he heard the man curse.

“DAMN IT ALL NOT THIS AGAIN! FIGHT ME WITH HONOR YOU COWARDS!”

Steve channeled his last bits of mana into a final volley of [Death Bolt]s. Each one slamming into the leader’s back and siphoning a chunk of his stamina. As those last bits were used up, he finally felt the adrenaline subside. Pain flooded into his body as he remembered being shot.

“Ryland, I need a health potion bad!”

“Don’t worry buddy, the body has it from here!” Ryland called back.

Sure enough, the leader was flat on his back as the creature tore into those innards.

Ryland smiled as he watched his friend stumble back to the campfire. While he couldn’t fight a teddy bear, he did have a crazy strong will. Ryland was quite impressed he had any spirit at all after enduring an arrow to the shoulder. Hopefully, that position would heal him up nicely. Least they could get some loot out of this and pay for a proper healer back at the village. Turning back, he watched as his body feasted once more. He had to admit, the second time watching a man getting eaten alive was far easier than the first.