The party of additional bugs arrives, and now I’m surrounded. Not only do I have to deal with the one that hopefully has a strong concussion, but now there are three more.
None of the four bugs around me are flying, at least and that’s good. I won’t get dizzy and disoriented from that awful buzzing sound.
But on the other hand, it’s also a bad news. They’re standing solid, with no openings for arrows or sabers. They’re hiding their weakest parts—bottoms and wing cavities.
They know exactly what they’re doing, protecting their vulnerabilities. I bet they’re communicating with that high-pitched insect screeching as they move around in these weird, jerky motions, like toys in a stop-motion movie. Quick, awkward, almost like watching something on low FPS.
----------------------------------------
One bug suddenly leaves me and scuttles over to Mike. Before I even react and turn, its strong, chitin legs are digging into him with sharp claws. They tear into his skin, and he tries to shake it off, but no luck.
Mike screams in pain as the claws pierce through his black jacket and sink into his flesh. The bug briefly opens its back plates, starts its wings, and propels itself forward.
“Harald!” I shout.
*Bang* No hesitation, he quikcly aims with his glock and shoots, but it’s too late.
The bug shuts its wing shields after completing what it intended. Despite Mike standing tall, strong, and solid, the weight of the bug combined with forward propelling overwhelms him, and he crashes to the ground with a thud.
The bug on top of him, hugging his body is so large, it covers his entire torso.
*Bang*
The old man shoots again, but at this point, he’s just wasting ammo.
For the first time, I see how these things attack. They don’t bite—they ram and stab with their pointed front legs. If we weren’t targeting their wings, I bet they could lift anything large even like humans, fly upwards and kill us by dropping us from the sky.
I swing my hammer, keeping an eye on the situation.
*Thud, swoosh, thud*
I land a few hits on the three remaining bugs, keeping them distracted without overusing my Focus. My attacks aren’t major, but they’re enough to hold the bugs off and keep them from focusing on the others.
Harald moves closer to help Mike, who’s thrashing in pain, his headband slipping off.
Oh boy. I can see his wrinkly part of the face already. He opens both of his eyes as he screams.
After a few seconds, he passes out.
“Nooo! Mikey! Not now!” Astrid stops aiming her bow and yells, nearly throwing herself at the bug.
The old man steps in front of her, blocking her way.
“Girl! Out of the way!” He blows air into his glock again like that’ll somehow help, then closes his left eye and carefully aims at the bug, trying to avoid hitting Mike now.
“Mark! Hold the others!” he orders. But I’m already swinging my hammer, my veiny arm working overtime as I aim to hit anything that moves. Maybe I can even break some of their shells.
“Dammit, girl! Move!”
Harald shoves Astrid aside, and the bug latches onto Mike even more tightly. It presses harder, deepening his wounds.
*Bang, bang, bang*
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Three consecutive shots, and the bullets sink deep into the bug’s shell, as usual. But with so many bullet holes in one spot, the shell seems to weaken, letting some rounds through.
The health bar is chipping away, but it’ll take a few magazines to bring this thing down.
I bet if Harald could fire a few rounds in exactly the same spot, he’d eventually break through. But we can’t risk those bullets going all the way through and hitting Mike. This is not a place where one should die and waste.
I’m feeling the pressure now as I see this, and power surges through me uncontrollably as I stress.
To avoid random bloating and harming my body I rather force muscle mass into my back and right arm again.
I grunt as I struggle to keep my Focus under control. It activates itself without me even thinking it.
"Fuck! This is not a joke anymore!"
My forearm is thicker than my leg at this point, and my back? I must look like a monster. I’m at the same level of power, maybe even more, than when I fought the Exiled One boss.
Definitely more—I’ve leveled up since then.
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Harald’s reloading, desperate for a solution.
“Use the big gun, Harald!” I yell.
I wonder what else the old man is packing. He hasn’t been very forthcoming, but I’ve seen something that looks like a police shotgun.
It’d be smart to use something stronger now. If he’s avoiding the shotgun, there are only two possibilities: either the spread might hit and kill Mike or even us, or that’s all he’s got—just a shotgun and a glock, nothing more.
*Insect screeching intensifies*
The other bugs around me suddenly seem to shift focus, deciding that Mike is an easier target.
“Switch, Harald! Leave that one to me!” I shout.
I believe I can deal with it without hurting Mike. Not gonna lie, Mike probably deserves a slap or two, but not like this. Seeing him passed out with those wounds isn’t exactly a thrill.
Astrid is watching, bow drawn, waiting for an opening on the bug. She knows she’s not much help right now, but I know she’ll fire the second those back plates lift. Our eyes meet, and I can tell she’s thinking the same.
Harald finally listens to me and swaps weapons, though he hesitates. Maybe he really is low on shotgun rounds.
The weathered glock disappears into his inventory, and out comes the big one—a heavy, single-barrel shotgun.
*Chuck-chuck*
That legendary pump-action sound—it’s the first time I’ve heard it in real life.
*Loud bang*
Even in the vast forest, the echo of that shot hits me hard, vibrating through my chest.
Twice.
Harald fires two consecutive rounds into one of the bugs.
I expect an explosion, pieces flying everywhere, but instead, one of its limbs is blown clean off. It’s a start.
The bug struggles to move, its balance clearly off now.
Standing on their back legs, the bugs prepare for a jump attack, but Harald gives them no time.
*Chuck-chuck*
*Bang*
A direct hit to the bug’s face isn’t as effective as I thought it’d be.
The health bar shows about one-third gone, but it’s clear this is going to take some work—and ammo. Still, seeing that much damage tells me I can leave it to Harald.
Now it’s my turn. My forearms, thick as calves, grip the hammer tightly as I raise it above my head. That's everything I’ve got.
Flesh, muscle mass, blood, and energy.
Blood pools at the edges of my nails, and I know it’s time to stop the power flow with a simple thought.
Stopping seems easier when I’m "relaxed." A fleeting thought crosses my mind: knowing Harald’s shotgun can handle these bugs is a huge relief. There's only one task to do now.
*Bang* with a loud *Crack*
My hammer cuts through the air, and my ultimate attack lands on the bug attached to the unconscious body.
The back plates covering the wings fly off in two directions. Some parts shatter, but the most important part—the joints—break.
The joints were always the weakest link. Once they’re gone, the wing covers blow away like car doors in an explosion. At least, that’s how I imagine it.
*Fwoosh*
*Thud, followed by a squelch*
“Whoa! What the.."
"Easy there Astrid!” I snap, but she’s just helping. No need to be ungrateful.
Astrid, no hesitation in her pale, red-haired self, fires an arrow straight into the squishy part of the bug’s body. It looks like a giant grape—same color, same consistency.
The bug releases Mike instantly and crawls away, dying. White goo spills out and leaves a trail, pushing the arrow out with it. Astrid rushes to Mike’s side.
A few more shots ring out, and I glance over at Harald.
He’s done with his bugs.
The area around him is littered with pieces of hard shells, three dead bugs, and an old man standing straight, victoriously. His modern black shotgun points upward, smoke still escaping from the barrel.
“Markus!” Astrid shouts, and I turn quickly.
There’s one more bug, and it’s approaching Mike’s lifeless body on the ground. Astrid’s bow is useless now.
*Chuck, chuck*
Harald reloads quickly.
“No, I’ve got this,” I stop him with a hand gesture, confident I can handle it.
I just need to hit the bug at the right spot again, blow off its wing covers.
I channel my power, preparing for a strong blow as the bug scatters dirt, zigzagging toward me. I hope to smash it in the right place on the first try, but even if I don’t, it’s not a big deal. This is the last one.
*Bang*
“Aaaargh!” My hammer hits the shell, but I’m not the only one who’s scored a hit.
Suddenly, I lose my balance, a strong, dull pain surging through me.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I shout through gritted teeth.