Tom couldn’t afford to fail.

He silently withdrew [Earth’s Vitality] and [Water Propulsion] from his pockets, palming and stacking them behind [The Flame] card. If he focused on just [The Flame] card, it should go off as intended, but Tom wasn’t quite sure if he had the dexterity to switch around cards with just one palm. If his plan went according to the script though, that wouldn’t be a problem.

His dagger still in his right, Tom continued to walk towards the tree’s root, in line with his previous strategy of moving from tree to tree.

His expression seemed calm on the exterior, but he kept peeking behind him in an attempt to get another lock on his target. The reason why he didn’t suspect that the beast would flank him was because it had no reason to— from its perspective, Tom was just an unwitting fool unaware of the silent assassin’s presence.

Seconds passed, and soon only a meter separated Tom from the gnarled roots. He continued to walk at the same pace, as if he was oblivious to their presence.

Tom tripped.

Or, more accurately, he feigned tripping. His right foot collided against the gnarled root’s base, twisting it at an awkward angle before he went careening forward onto the ground. He landed sidewards, at an angle, which allowed him to glimpse backwards without looking suspicious.

The [Ankra Bone Dagger] ‘flew’ out of his hands, landing barely half a meter away from him, hidden inside the tall grass.

The next part was going to hurt.

Tom bit down on his tongue, not enough to completely lop it off, but enough to cut deeply. The salty, metallic tang of warm blood flowed through his mouth, and the next moment Tom let out an agonzing, pained scream that simply could not be faked.

Heavily panting, Tom hurriedly placed the [Earth’s Vitality] card on the ground, arming himself with both [The Flame] and the [Water Propulsion] card in each hand.

His eyes flickering backward, Tom traced his path, expecting, hoping, to see the [Elfinclaw].

C’mon you intelligent, cocky bastard. Your prey finally made a mistake. Or maybe he was wounded from the start, and his legs finally gave in.

A shadowy figure became visible at the periphery of his vision. It slowly approached, causing Tom to tighten his grip on his cards and then…. Stopped.

Fuck. Cautious Bastard!

Tom didn’t let the panic get to him though, for he had one more card to play. The blood that had pooled in his mouth… he began to cough it out. Specks of red blood spilled out of his mouth, spraying all over the grass. He was sick. Internally injured. Whatever.. It didn’t matter. Surely the beast didn’t expect him to fake an internal injury just to lure it in.

Tom’s breathing tightened.

This was it. Either it worked or it failed.

The [Elfinclaw] broke into a sprint, the shadowy miasma around it making Tom unable to accurately judge its form, but he did spot four canine limbs propelling it forward.

The beast was fast, even a notch faster than the [Symiril Tusker] but… Tom had expected it when he’d seen that it was level three.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

When the beast was seven meters away, Tom begun to channel his SP into [The Flame] card. The next second, he swiveled his torso, a bloodied grin forming upon his mouth.

You walked right into this one, motherfucker.

A torrent of fiery hot flames exploded from Tom’s right hand, engulfing the [Elfinclaw] that was travelling too fast to retreat. The intensity and pressure brought by the Level 2 [The Flame] card held the [Elfinclaw] at bay, a few seconds passing as he kept [The Flame] card active without any sign of exhaustion.

The [Elfinclaw] finally managed to regain its footing, using its forelimbs to leap a meter backwards.

The shadow cloak enveloping it had disappeared, as Tom had hoped— what element was better than Fire at banishing Shadows?

Tom finally glimpsed at his stalker, a wolven creature with half-charred silver fur, sharp talons that had seemingly blackened from the heat of his flames, a pointed grey horn that managed to endure the worst of his assault and only one remaining ruby red eye that was trying to lock on to his position, seemingly confused by the situation.

Tom though, wasn’t going to relent now as he channeled SP into the [Water Propulsion] card, holding it above his head whilst at a downward angle. A jet of pressurized water shot out of the card, the ‘recoil’ from his shot almost jerking the [Water Propulsion] card out of his hand.

It connected with the [Elfinclaw] smashing it into the Earth.

Tom wasn’t done yet, though.

A second shot was fired as Tom was getting back onto his feet.

A third shot.

A fourth shot.

Each shot cost 1SP, but Tom simply didn’t care.

The beast’s head and forelimbs were half buried into the floor, painful bruises marring its skin.

However, it still managed to dodge the fifth shot, using its hind legs to throw itself back another two meters.

Another shot.

The one-eyed [Elfinclaw] dodged again, throwing itself to the left. It began to zig-zag as it approached him, it’s eyes filled with a desire for destruction and vengeance. It seemed like the beast had enough intelligence to understand the concept of an ego, for it wished to kill Tom with everything he had.

The [Water Propulsion] card had served its purpose, so he allowed it to fall to the floor. Taking a step back, Tom retrieved the dagger he’d left on the ground, tracking the rapidly approaching beast with his eyes.

It was dying.

Tom could do this.

The moment it stepped within the five meter mark, Tom unleashed [The Flame] card again.

But he’d underestimated the [Elfinclaw’s] determination, as it pivoted to the right at the last second.

The [Elfinclaw] seemed like a blur as it pounced again. The next thing Tom knew, he felt a searing pain tearing into his right arm, the one that held [The Flame] card.

The card slipped out of his grasp, and the next second both Tom and the [Elfinclaw] were tumbling onto the ground.

Within seconds, he would lose his arm.

“DIE!” Tom screamed, instinct taking over as the [Ankra Bone Dagger] in his left hand sunk into the beast’s abdomen.

A second later, Tom realized that his dagger wasn’t sharp enough to pierce through the creature’s tightly strung flesh.

Before he knew it, he had yanked out the dagger and applied another burst of strength to stab again.

Even as he hit the ground, Tom continued to stab the [Elfinclaw] with a mechanical fervor, his mind consumed by the single minded obsession for survival.

He pulled back his dagger, the pain in his arm intensifying, and stabbed again. This time, the mark was far softer, more fleshy, as the dagger penetrated through and through.

The pressure grinding away at his arm vanished.

The dagger slipped away from his grasp, embedded in the [Elfinclaw’s] carcass.

The monster… had been vanquished.