Elijah had managed to close the wound on his back, but with the viridian monster slowly closing on him, he had other things on his mind. His core was empty, and it would take at least an hour before it recovered to full capacity. And even if he survived that long, he had no way of defeating the creature. It was too fast. Too strong. And those scales were far too durable. His only other spell, aside from Touch of Nature, had already proved insufficient.

No - he knew that, unless he managed some miraculous feat, he was going to die. After everything that he’d managed to survive – from cancer and the plane crash to carving his own place out of the wilderness – it was frustrating to think that it had all been for nothing.

But that wasn’t true, was it? The moment he’d recovered from what the doctors had called incurable cancer, he’d accomplished the impossible. Further, there likely weren’t that many people who could have survived his experiences after being stranded in the wilderness. Not only was the forest an inhospitable place, full of dangers both hidden and obvious, but he’d even managed to kill a few of those monstrous crabs. He wasn’t quite thriving, but he wasn’t that far off, either.

If only he’d chosen an archetype with more combat potential, he might have been capable of standing against the scaled monster.

But that wasn’t necessarily true, either. Without the ability to heal himself, Elijah would have died a dozen times over. And even if he had managed to survive as another archetype, he didn’t think he could have done much against the creature slowly walking toward him.

Its aura reminded him of the panther with whom he’d made a tentative truce. But it was also wildly different as well. Elijah had no idea if he was imagining the auras of the two creatures, but given that magic had been thrust upon the world, he was prepared to believe that it was real.

Either way, with the panther – or whatever it really was – Elijah felt a sense of connection. It was subtle, but something told him that, while it wasn’t a native to the area, or even Earth, it still belonged. It was still a part of the wider tapestry that constituted the natural world. But the newcomer was something else entirely. It felt like an outsider, and for some reason, Elijah thought of a virus. A corrupting influence that was both part of the natural world and apart from it.

Of course, that wasn’t quite right, either, and he didn’t have the time to contemplate what any of it meant. Not if he wanted to maintain any hope of survival. Slim though it was, Elijah knew that that hope was contingent on his persistence, on his refusal to give in. The moment he surrendered and accepted his fate, he would die. But so long as he kept fighting, that hope would survive.

So, he steadied himself and drew the flint-bladed axe from his makeshift belt. It was a poor weapon, but even that was better than facing the thing with only his bare hands.

Squaring his shoulders, he gripped the rough haft tightly and muttered, “You want some of this? You’re going to have to earn it.”

To his horror, the monster let out a wheezing sound, which to Elijah’s ears, was unmistakably a laugh. Whatever confidence Elijah had managed to muster faded.

Then, before Elijah could hype himself back up, the creature pounced. Its claws flashed as they cut through the air, and it was all Elijah could do to dive out of the way. A ripping, tearing sound preceded a great crash as the enemy shredded a nearby tree – a reminder that if those claws made contact with his comparatively soft flesh, there was little he could do.

Elijah rolled to his feet just in time to see the tree tip over with a massive crack and the sound of snapping branches. Fortunately, the monster hadn’t counted on that, and a moment later, the huge trunk of the tall pine tree thudded down right on top of the monster. Even that seemed insufficient against such a mighty creature, but for a few seconds at least, it was stationary.

That was Elijah’s moment. He dashed forward, a battlecry on his lips as he raised his homemade axe. He brought it down with all the Strength he could gather. His aim was true, and the flint blade found a home in the monster’s unprotected side. However, Elijah’s heart jumped into his throat when he saw two things.

First, his axe shattered into a million pieces, the shards exploding out from the point of impact. A few of them buried themselves in Elijah’s unprotected skin, but most went sailing into the surrounding forest.

But more troubling was the second thing Elijah noticed – the blow, mighty though it was, didn’t even leave a mark.

No, that wasn’t true. He’d managed to leave the tiniest of scratches – so small that it might have been Elijah’s imagination – on one of the monster’s scales.

It hissed and gurgled, leveraging its four muscular arms beneath the heavy tree trunk. Its claws bit deep into the bark, and it pushed. Meanwhile, Elijah took those few seconds for the opportunity they represented, and the moment he recovered from his ill-advised attack, he rolled to his feet and took off at a sprint.

One second passed. Then two. Three. He scrambled over a fallen tree and slid down a slight hill, his passage eased by the ubiquitous moisture that seemed to cling to everything. When he reached the bottom, he regained his feet and continued his flight, hoping to put as much distance as he could between himself and the unassailable monster that had pegged him as prey.

A handful of endless seconds passed before Elijah heard the sound of pursuit. Still, he ran – because, what else was he supposed to do? He couldn’t fight that creature. He couldn’t hurt it. He couldn’t endure its attacks. He was lucky that he’d managed to survive as long as he had. He dodged between the trees, panting as much from fatigue as from the panic filling his heart.

The monster chose a different track. Judging by the sounds of snapping branches and falling trees that dogged Elijah’s path, the creature had chosen to simply run through the various obstacles native to the densely forested wilderness. That was probably the only reason it didn’t immediately catch him. With its size and single-minded pursuit, it was far less suited for forest traversal.

But that didn’t mean it wasn’t gaining on him.

In the end, his doom came in the form of a particularly well-camouflaged root that Elijah never even saw. One second, he was sprinting through the forest, and the next, he was tumbling through the air only to land on his chest. His momentum took him into an awkward roll, and he ended up colliding with a solid berm composed of roots and tightly packed earth. The impact dislocated one of his shoulders and took a few square inches of the skin of his arm.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

More troubling was the fact that he’d stopped moving.

Terror gripped him as he tried to scramble to his feet, but the pain in his shoulder made it difficult to focus. On top of that, that arm was useless, which threw off his balance. Still, he grasped at exposed roots as he tried to continue his flight. But by then, the monster was upon him.

Insanely sharp claws bit into his legs as the sound of the creature’s hissing laughter mingled with his screams of agony. Elijah lashed out, but he might as well have been kicking a boulder for all the good it did. Even so, he squirmed and kicked as the monster reached down with curious delicacy and turned him over.

Oh, God – it wanted to see the look on his face as it killed him. That was the only explanation. Elijah’s screams turned into a defiant, yet trembling, roar as he continued to resist. But it was useless. The monster was unstoppable. Unassailable. Unbeatable.

It leaned close, its fetid breath filling Elijah’s nostrils. Then, a forked tongue slithered out from its lipless mouth to trace a line along Elijah’s cheek. It shivered in pleasure. Elijah pressed himself against the ground as he desperately tried to put as much distance as he could between the creature and himself, but it was useless. The ground was as immovable as the creature was inescapable.

The monster was also done delaying the inevitable.

Dim light glinted off the reptilian creature’s viridian scales, shining with a dark, green-blue tint as it unhinged its jaw and opened its mouth. Row after row of teeth glistened in that yawning abyss as it opened wider and wider. Elijah punched out with his good arm, but the monster didn’t even flinch at the blow. Why would it?

It leaned forward. Inch by inch, Elijah’s death crept closer until he could see the blackened flesh inside the creature’s mouth.

He closed his eyes, resolving to go to his death with stoic defiance.

But then, a whisper of a sound greeted Elijah’s ears, and, suddenly, the weight of the monster’s grip disappeared. A mere second later, the sound of splintering trees filled the air, and Elijah flung his eyes open to see two titans locked in furious battle.

The panther had pounced on the monster’s back, its claws biting deep into its scaly hide. Black blood misted the air as the panther subjected the creature to a furious onslaught of raking claws. Those impenetrable scales split. Its blood flowed. And the monster wailed in hissing agony.

A moment later, the panther lost the advantage of surprise, and the monster regained its balance, reaching back and gripping the panther’s glossy black fur. But the lithe animal wasn’t so easily caught. It dodged with feline grace, its claws continuing to rake at the monster’s scaly hide.

But it didn’t do so without picking up a few injuries of its own. The panther was agile and deadly, but the enemy wasn’t without advantages of its own. And it used them as it clamored to turn the tide of battle, its own natural weapons ripping into the panther’s fur and tearing through its dense muscles.

The panther spat and hissed under the assault, but it didn’t let up. Most predators would give up on a hunt if it proved too dangerous, but the scene Elijah witnessed wasn’t one of two animals engaged in a natural battle for survival. No – it was a pair of bitter enemies who were compelled – whether it was by choice or instinct, Elijah had no idea – to fight to the bitter end.

Using one arm, he dragged himself further away, but he didn’t take his eyes from the fight. It seemed to go on for ages, but Elijah knew that less than a minute had passed.

The panther leapt away from the monster’s sweeping claws, narrowly dodging the attack before it bounded off a nearby tree, changing directions. The tree swayed under the cat’s massive weight, and the panther rocketed toward the scaly creature. It tried to react, but the cat was moving too quickly. The panther’s claws flashed. Once. Twice. Three times in less than a second. And when it jumped away, the viridian monster’s throat had been destroyed.

Pitch black blood flowed from the gaping wound, smothering its shimmering scales in stygian blackness. It stumbled to its knees, falling forward only to barely catch itself with an outstretched arm that extended to the black blood-soaked ground. Its claws dug furrows into the soft earth, but with a gurgling, hissing roar, it climbed to its feet and faced off against the cat, who was patiently waiting in the shadows. Elijah could only see hints of its tail’s movement and shining green eyes, but he could easily imagine it crouching for its next pounce.

The monster staggered forward, leaving a trail of black blood.

The cat knew it only had to wait it out, though. Its enemy was already weakened, and the viridian monster’s Strength fled by the second.

But then, the monster seemed to remember its original prey, and it turned toward Elijah. Even with its blood gushing from the wound on its stubby neck, the creature managed its horrifying imitation of a smile before it turned its body in Elijah’s direction.

Elijah shuddered. The monster was on its last legs. Its life was going to end. There was no stopping that. But just as surely, it didn’t intend to die alone. Elijah’s hand crept to a small hilt at his waist.

The flint-bladed knife was not a weapon. Comprised of a single stone that he’d arduously filed into a point before wrapping the narrowest end with his homemade cordage, it was barely even a tool.

But it was better than his bare hands. So, with his good arm, he reached down and yanked it from his makeshift belt. Brandishing it in the monster’s direction, Elijah pressed his back against the berm and pushed himself to his feet. The monster continued to advance, its pace slowed not by a desire to prolong Elijah’s horror, but by its diminishing Strength.

Elijah was content to wait. Every second that passed, brought it closer to death. Perhaps, if he was lucky, it would fall before it even reached him.

He was not lucky.

With a burst of speed that constituted the last of the monster’s Strength, it dashed across the short distance. It reared back, its claws glistening with the panther’s red blood. But Elijah didn’t wait for its attack. Instead, he marshaled the last bit of his own remaining energy and leapt forward, leading the way with his homemade dagger.

He knew it wouldn’t cut through the monster’s viridian scales, but he wasn’t aiming for that. Instead, he thrust his knife deep into the wound wrought by the panther’s sharp claws. It sank into the creature’s black flesh, biting deep until it collided with bone. The monster flinched back, losing its balance as Elijah crashed into it.

Elijah screamed as he was thrown free, rolling on his already injured shoulder. He could feel the ripping tendons of the abused joint, but he couldn’t stop himself.

After a second, he skidded to a stop, and it took him a few more moments to gather his wits and look back at the scene of the battle.

And what he saw brought a grim smile to his face. He was so elated that, at first, he didn’t even notice the gaping wound drawing a line across his belly. But within a few seconds, fire erupted in his stomach, and he looked down to see his innards falling out.

Even more disturbing, when Elijah looked up, he saw his protector slinking forward. The panther had sustained a host of wounds that Elijah hadn’t noticed during the battle, and beneath its glossy, black fur, he saw hints of white bone. Half its face had been massacred, and it moved with a pronounced limp.

Gathering his intestines, Elijah realized that he was about to die. Stomach wounds weren’t immediately fatal, but when a person started spilling his intestines, it was only a matter of time. Soon, he’d grow weak and pass out – if not from the wound itself, then from shock or blood loss. So, even if he managed to recover enough Ethera to power Touch of Nature, he wouldn’t be conscious to use it.

But that was okay. He’d done well for himself, and while he knew he was about to die, he’d stood his ground. And that unstoppable monster was now dead. He only hoped that the panther would survive, which, judging by its wounds, didn’t seem likely. It approached, looked at him out of the corner of one baleful green eye, then flopped onto the ground with a pained sigh.

Elijah’s eyes drooped as he felt the pool of sticky blood gathering beneath him, and finally, he began to dip into unconsciousness.