Rage can roar fiery fuel on the wounded heart. It is a napalm dangerous to all, for it can rain unseen destruction on foes but stick onto allies as well; and even scar the thrower, for no matter how careful he may be, the pulsing glass will burn his palm. Worse yet, when the mind’s eyes are blinded by the hateful smoke, he wrongly measures the throw. May it be a small mistake and only so little of him in the blast radius; when the petrol finds flesh, it will mark that flesh for the rest of times.
He knew the dangers of wrath. He knew them well and never forgot, even when excruciating pain befell him.
But there is a fact to human nature that taints its history. Humans may know better, yet they refuse. For money, for sex, but most importantly, for power. They want to feel powerful. Had one been wronged, the seed of hate would set root in the heart that could be removed by so much work and willpower. It was the right but long and tiresome way that most people lacked the strength to follow. Some have waited out till the fruits of anger withered away, while some basked in its shadow and survived on its nectar, in turn corrupting themselves.
“Die, you piece of shit!” Tanuki beat the fly. Though it had died seconds before, he either did not see it or did not care.
One of the husks was blown apart by the fly’s attack, but another managed to get the killing blow. Tanuki was already pissed over losing a minion, and being denied the last hit of revenge made him lose his mind.
The fly resembled nothing of its former self. It was not even a corpse at this point, just a pile of blood and guts. Yet he kept beating it while yelling like a drunk.
“You hurt me! I have done nothing to you, but you hurt me! Why? Why did you do it? Why?!”
He felt the ground shake beneath his feet. He turned and met his mistake.
The deciding ten seconds have passed and the deadweight husk arrived at their position. It raised its arm and swooped at Tanuki and a husk. Tanuki put up his hands, and though it worsened his wound, he blocked most of the attack. He did not get any more broken bones, but the blow staggered him, causing some serious damage inside his body. The husk had it worse, the hand blew straight through it, leaving but a puff of the minion.
Tanuki shot through the air. Upon landing, he rolled a few metres through the grass, his consciousness slipping in and out, but the pain kept him awake.
He blinked weakly. Eyes slowly focused on the target. The juggernaut ignored him and went for the barricade. With the ease of a wrecking ball, it snapped the thing in half.
Tanuki watched on hopelessly. Tears of disappointment gathered in his eyes.
“God damn it,” he punched the ground, then hissed in pain from the ache in his palm.
His grief could only be so short-lived, as his vision grew darker and darker. His eyelids felt heavy. He wanted to rest.
He blinked to open his eyes again. There was a blur of the juggernaut, walking over his hard work.
He blinked again, but his eyelids felt heavier than before and he chose to leave them closed.
“Perhaps it’s better this way. At least… when it breaks the crystal… I will already be gone…”
Then he heard something unexpected. A stab.
His eyelids lifted once more and his eyes widened. His vision grew sharp immediately after he saw it. For a second, his brain failed to register it, and he thought he was dreaming.
There was still a friendly husk he forgot. He gasped when he understood what happened.
“For those seconds I lost consciousness after the blow, it also fell asleep. That thing is linked to my mind like I'm some kinda battery. When I run out of juice, it won’t work.”
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For those seconds, the link between Tanuki and the minion fell offline. But when he regained his senses, even though his body was so weak, the minion got everything it required to follow its former task: defend the Gaia Core.
Because for those few seconds it remained unmoving, the deadweight husk registered it as just another corpse. Thus, it was not expecting an axe in the leg.
And though it was barely worth the praise, its attack did deal damage.
[ Deadweight Husk (LvL. 2)]
[ HP: 12/20 ]
One damage. Yet it meant the world to Tanuki.
There was hope.
The enemy turned around and raised its hand to swipe away the minion. Tanuki quickly responded with an order, his aching from the shout.
“Fall to the ground! Do it, right now!”
The minion’s limbs gave away and crumbled like a puppet. Although it should not have been powerful enough to dodge, Tanuki manually moved its limbs in a way that it would dodge. Just in time, as the fist nearly beheaded it.
The deadweight husk saw only that the minion crumbled and assumed it was dead. So, it turned back towards the Gaia Core and kept on marching.
The friendly husk stood up and looked at its master. Though it had no soul and no eyes, no mind and barely any power, it was his guiding light on this terrible night.
Tanuki pushed up his chest and grabbed the staff. He could barely feel his fingers, yet he pressed on until the staff was raised.
An acid spell was to be cast, but a message appeared in the corner of his eye.
[ Not enough mana ! ]
[ MP: 1.5/5 ]
He needed about ten more seconds to cast his spell. In those ten seconds, the juggernaut could make two-thirds of the way to the Gaia Core. It could not be allowed.
He knew what needed to be done if he wanted to buy more time. Though it seemed impossible, especially from a side-view perspective with blurry vision and no former practice, he needed to do it if he wanted to achieve victory.
He gritted his teeth and channelled his muscle memory. All those nights playing souls-like video games would finally find good use, even though he was less enthusiastic about it.
He was no longer Hachiro Tanuki but an axe-wielding level-one husk, and this deadweight monstrosity the boss blocking his progression.
The duel began.
A stressful grimace grew on his face, both of desperation and determination.
“Charge at the enemy! Stab its leg!”
The minion turned immediately and ran after the juggernaut. It heard the husk’s approach and looked his way, charging a punch.
Tanuki was expecting this kind of attack.
“Bend backwards and push out your feet!”
The minions fell to the ground and slid under the deadweight’s attack.
“Now stab its leg!”
The minion stood and launched the axe into the deadweight’s shin. This was less effective, but luck was on Tanuki’s side.
The juggernaut attacked with an arm attached to its damaged shoulder, and the sheer power of its attack made the wound worse, tearing apart the twigs holding it. The damage was so great that its arm could barely move.
With its attention focused away, Tanuki ordered another attack more effective than the last. It got deeper into the creature’s shin, causing an imbalance in the creature.
Tanuki charged a third attack, but swiftly stopped when he noticed something. It was so minuscule that he almost did not see it.
There was a change in the way the deadweight husk let its head look ahead goallessly. For the first time, as if looking at something, it turned towards the wound and did something peculiar.
“What the…”
The creature ripped off its arm, dealing damage to itself and losing a limb. Then immediately without warning…
“Shit! Jump!”
It was already too little, too late. Not that jumping would have helped, as he did the verbal equivalent of button smashing.
The juggernaut used its severed arm to attack the minion. It even charged this move enough to have an increased knock-back effect, resulting in the minion being launched into the sky and falling seconds later.
For the first time when a minion was not one-shot, Tanuki saw its health. It was not looking good.
[ Soulless Husk (LvL. 0) ]
[ HP: 1/5 ]
His eyelids ticked from the rising tides of stress filling his being.
“What was that? Why did it change all of a sudden?”
He could only come up with one possible answer.
“Has somebody hijacked the deadweight husk to control it manually?”
Not just anybody, he believed, but the boss himself. The strange giant peaked through the portal to taunt him.
“That sadistic piece of…”
Again, with the anger. This time though, he recognized his mistake and immediately backtracked. There was no benefit to sending his only peasant charging at the queen eight spaces away. If he wanted to overcome these odds, he needed to be careful.
He took a deep breath and furrowed his brows. All of his concentration turned into energy animating his husk.
It stood, one hand torn off, and a foot missing, another broken. It was a useless limping heap of twigs with a dull weapon in hand. But it was more than enough, so long he could carefully measure his chances and decide each attack with rationale. This was not just a videogame where he could die a hundred times to a hard boss and keep coming back. If he wanted to win, he needed to learn all the moves of his opponent and evade perfectly.
Thus, the real duel began.