The monster avoids a hacking swing from Guts. It winds around his feet, spitting errant hisses before peeling off in another direction, quicker than lightning. Guts’ ensuing roar shakes leaves off their branches. His subsequent attacks to pin the monster aren’t any more successful than the first.
I run through my plan once again as I track the Serpent Glade. It hinges on waiting for an opportunity and it’s dangerous because it might never happen, but it’s the only plan I could cook up that doesn’t involve me taking charge of this mess. The goblins won’t listen to me and the orcs would probably maul me if I try giving them orders.
It comes down to waiting for a chance to stop the monster long enough for Guts to do something about it. I can do this. I think I can. It’ll be just like trying to get through an entire level with an under levelled character. One wrong move could potentially end you, but there’s a chance to successfully get through it.
The Serpent Glade slips between two goblins. They swing their swords in the same instant they see movement. Blades glance off each other in a whine of impact. They stumble, then topple over when the monster gleefully whips their legs in punishment.
Guts taking a running leap over their downed forms. The hefty blade of his axe slashes down. He cleaves a fallen log instead of scaled flesh. The log splinters in two, turning the third goblin standing off the side into a pin cushion.
“What you doing!” He knocks it aside and spins on his feet in search of the monster. “Stupid goblins,” he says, “Need make monster not move or weapon no work!”
The third goblin, nursing its head wound, tries to follow after Guts. It trips in its rush, dead leaves and branches crackling noisily when it lands.
The Serpent Glade, having slipped behind a tree after it got away, freezes in place. The serpentine head sways, four slit pupils fixed on unfortunate goblin. It lowers its head and folds in on itself. And then it launches forward, a brown streak whizzing across the ground like a loosened arrow.
I’m not the only one who sees it. Guts charges towards the monster’s target. He lets out a thundering roar, marking the moment he delivers yet another swing. The downward slice of the blade is so powerful I almost imagine I see the air splitting into two.
The attack would have landed if Guts had seen what I did, the Serpent Glade pivoting at the last minute and sliding through the opening between his feet.
“GEGEGE!”
The goblin rolls on the ground, hands clutching its face in a futile attempt to stem the blood from the gash running forehead to chin. Guts’ axe just barely missed splitting its head open, but it would have been preferable to its current gruesome fate. I don’t want to imagine the pain from having your face split clean in half.
Despite the putrid stench of blood in the air, Serpent Glade fixates on Guts. The monster is settled a distance away in an area devoid of goblins or orcs. It is coiled into a tight ball with a lengthy stretch of tail peeking out from behind it.
Is this is my chance?
“Bah!” Guts readies himself to attack again. He doesn’t flinch away from the Serpent’s gaze and lightly taps the handle of his axe. “Stupid goblins, stupid Grit. What I–”
“Ge!” I toss out the plucked bird I stole from one of the food sacks the goblins abandoned. “Gege!”
The dressed poultry soars through the air, gliding for half a second on wings twice the size of its oval-shaped body. The Serpent Glade shifts its focus from Guts onto the airborne target.
The monster shoots up, propelling its agile body with the energy stored in its coiled muscles. It catches the meat in its teeth laden mouth and stands pole straight, like the first time it appeared. The Serpent Glade casts thin shadows in dim rays of light.
My dagger is heavy. My breathing is ragged. I hear it – the drawn out hiss of the monster as it swallows the bait.
I grip my weapon. If I fail, there might not be another chance. I might be the next meal the monster gobbles up, like the goblin who ended up a wriggling lump constricted by roped muscle.
But assuming this is a game, the surest thing I can do is act. Fortune usually favours the reckless for such things.
I launch forward and stab my dagger through the lower body of the Serpent Glade. I make sure the blade digs into the packed soil before I release the handle. My hands form a fist, and I hammer it into the ground.
The monster’s upper body sags into a curve. The lumpy protrusion, where I assume rests the Serpent Glade’s first victim, spasms with the rest of its of its elongated body. Low hisses turn into a pitched screeching, and I heave myself out of the way. Guts’ axe sings as it cuts through the air.
“BAAAH!” The orc carves off a huge chunk of flesh, like a woodsman finally removing the wedge that will fell a stubborn tree. “Take that, stupid monster!” The resulting spray from its wound is not unlike when the other goblin’s face was sliced in two.
I duck behind him to avoid being drenched. The smell is nauseating, nothing short of stuffing my nose with plugs will stop me from smelling it. It would be good if this world had smelling salts or perfume. I remember seeing a stick of what looked like cinnamon in the sacks I searched earlier. I ought to take it and carry it on me for peace of mind.
The Serpent Glade continues to spasm, darting every which way to escape. Luckily, my dagger holds firm, barely budging when the monster wraps itself around it in a death squeeze.
Serpent Glade
Ravager
LVL 14
Status Effect: Bleed
The flashing red window hasn’t appeared. I shake my head. After all that trouble, landing a grand total of two attacks wasn’t even enough to bring it to low health.
I’m happy to have this basic stat window, but I want something more detailed. Heath points, defense, attack, speed, how much of it is determined by race and level? Seeing the ‘Bleed’ status effect, at least, is reassuring.
“Stupid monster…” Grit staggers towards us, dragging his club with his good arm. “Stupid monster, hurt me bad. You make Grit almost dead… Grit will kill you!”
I peek out from behind Guts and look at Grit through my glove. Immediately, I’m hit with a searing crimson window.
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*HP LOW*
“Grit still have strength speak nonsense,” Guts says as he looks around. “Bah. If you stronger, this no happen.”
I don’t need to know he’s upset at what he sees. His goblins are in terrible shape, the one with its face cut open now lying prone on the ground. I feel a stab of pity in my chest when I look at it.
“We need go. Already waste time. We need bring human treasure to Borg before he angry.”
“No,” Grit slowly raises his club, the muscles in his arm straining to hold it above his head. “Move away. I kill monster.” Guts grunts something unintelligible and steps away, and I follow with my gaze on a distant tree. I don’t feel like puking.
I wait to hear cracking bone and squishy brain matter splattering strewn across the ground, but it doesn’t come. I turn back to see Grit’s club clattering harmlessly onto the Serpent Glade and pinning it down.
Hm? Why did he stop?
“Stupid Grit!” I find myself roughly shoved back. There’s a shake to Guts’ voice as he speaks. “Only you never see so big monster before it eat you!” When I’m get a solid foothold and am no longer in danger of falling, I crane my neck out from behind the Gut’s legs.
I see it. This new arrival, also a Serpent Glade, three times the size of the one pinned under Grit’s club. Like the previous, it has four slit eyes and rows of razor sharp teeth that could grind bone into dust. It raises its body up, and I see a large, wriggling lump gradually sliding down its trunk-like body.
Serpent Glade
Ravager
LVL 16
Status Effect: -
“Haha,” I hunch to make myself as small as I feel. “Level sixteen.”
This Serpent Glade, which swallowed Grit whole, sways in place as it eyes me and Guts with hunger in its beady eyes. I vaguely know snakes are capable of swallowing animals quadruple their size, digesting them over a long period of time, but the question is… will it choose Guts over me?
“Don’t come, Orc taste bad!” Guts slashes the air with his axe, faintly trembling. “Here have other tasty snack for you. Goblins small and easy eat, not like me with weapon.” He abruptly steps away. I’m exposed and stand right in the Serpent Glade’s line of sight.
There is no smaller feeling than having a honest to god predator taking you apart with its gaze. This might be what livestock feel like when attached to conveyor belts and ushered into factory machines.
A weapon. I need a weapon.
My eyes darts towards my dagger, still stuck in the other Serpent’s body. Should I risk getting eaten by a half-dead serpent or a lively one?
“G-Gege,” somewhere behind the monster, the injured goblin holds up a blood matted hand. In the instant the Serpent Glade sweeps over gobble up the source of those weak cries, I launch myself past Guts and towards my dagger.
Be quick, be fast, be swift. My inner chants end when I trip on a root and go flying. I tuck my shoulder and land in a clumsy roll. When I reach the dagger, I wrap my hand around the hilt.
“Got it,” I huff, pulling on it with adrenaline fuelled strength. “C’mon, shit, don’t stay stuck–” A nasty squelch sounds as the dagger is freed. “Yes!” I take a whip like blow to the face and get off to the side.
Getting bitch slapped by a dying monster is as terrible as it sounds. The blow is weak, but the edges of the Serpent Glade’s body are as jagged as the ends of broken glass. A sharp, numbing pain blossoms on my cheek, or maybe my forehead.
I don’t have time to complain though, because the other monster has finished is meal and is heading towards me. I throw myself behind Guts, and he lets out a terrified yell. I drop and roll, just in time to feel wind above my head. If I had hair, his axe would have shaved me bald.
I brush the dirt off my face and scramble to stand. I take three steps before I come face to face with Goblin A. It greets me with a blank stare. “Gegege.”
“Now is the time to panic you idiot,” I scold. “Ah, fuck, you don’t even know we’re about to die.” I spin around, flicking off the flesh stuck to the flat of the blade.
The Serpent Glade slithers closer. It flexes its upper body, a pillar of muscle throwing shadows over us. The teeth peeking out from its scaly lips has already kicked my imagination in overdrive, their ends curved into wicked hooks.
“We don’t taste very good,” I warn the monster. “I hope you’d consider other sources of protein.” The Serpent Glade hisses, double forked tongue spearing air below its pointed snout. It must like what is tastes because its muscles begin to coil. “W-Well, I hope you like the taste of metal.”
I know I’m not fast enough to avoid the monster’s strike, so trying to dodge it would be useless. With my hands wrapped tightly around the dagger, I do several mock strikes, slicing the air to show I won’t go quietly. It’s dumb and stupid and I know this is it.
I should run. I could find my way out of this stupid forest when the Serpent Glade is occupied with Guts and the rest of the goblins. There’s more than enough fodder for me to get away.
I look over my shoulder. Goblin A looks back, blank faced and completely unperturbed by the situation.
“When you look at me like that,” I say, “It really feels like you’re a dumbass kid.”
It is funny how human psychology works. We assign meaning to everything, even to things that obviously mean nothing. I don’t care if this monster eats the orcs, but if they’re about to eat a kid, I’ll probably do something stupid. Like standing firm and protecting them.
I should be thinking of preserving my own life, but abandoning this poor idiot would probably feel worse than dying. Ahh, man. I hate myself sometimes.
The Serpent Glade flattens its head against the ground. It’s coming. I thrust out the dagger, trying not to tremble too badly. Hopefully, I’ll prick its tongue or snap off a tooth and force it to leave me at least eighty percent intact. Who needs arms, am I right?
The Serpent Glade shifts. Dried leaves scatter as it lunges at me. I stare down the open jaws of pointed teeth, death extending a hand toward me. And then suddenly, the monster is knocked clear out of the way by a blast of wind.
I throw my arms up, protecting my face against the pressure. Pebbles, dirt and broken twigs pelt me as the hisses of the Serpent Glade echo around us. From behind my arm, the blurred edges of its long figure tell me it is raising its humongous body.
“I’ve never seen a serpent this large before,” an airy voice says. “If I did not have the blessing, I would assume you were level twenty.” The monster shrieks. Shadow and light bend in bizarre shapes as it lunges towards the owner of the voice.
“
I’m blown off my feet. I land on top of Goblin A. It wriggles under me, squirming when my elbow digs into its chest. “Sorry,” I say, picking myself up to take in the sight of our saviour.
The girl is small. She’s only a little taller than I am, not something to brag about considering my size. Her face is dainty, fairy-like, and atop her button nose hangs a pair of intense eyes as clear as a cloudless summer day. Her hair, the shade of creamy hazelnut, falls in light waves past her shoulder.
She is a child. She looks no older than ten or eleven. I search my feelings and find surprise, confusion and awe.
“
It takes another round of magic that leaves fresh cuts in the surrounding trees for the Serpent Glade to stop throwing itself at her. The gigantic monster, who seemed unbeatable and wholly indestructible, gives one last hiss before slinking away. Its scaled hide is covered in cuts, dirtying the ground with a trail of crimson as it flees elsewhere into the forest.
“It was low on health…” the girl says. “Should I have ended it?” She turns to me, her gaze jumping between me and Goblin A. “My timing was opportune, it seems. You two were lucky.”
My mouth drops open. “Y–”
“Girl!” I flinch at the sudden shout. “Stop standing around and drag them back. These guys are slow enough as it stands. I don’t care if they end up as snacks for that asshole, but I’m want to make sure I don’t end up the same way.”
This voice is male, older and rougher, grizzled in the kind of way that reminds me of traumatized characters in crime shows. Like the lead detective who gets his family chopped up by due to his pursuit of a serial killer.
He looks the part with that shaved beard. The chainmail under his leather breastplate jingles as he walks towards the small girl. He glares at her, then at us. “Hurry. Up.” Spitting those words, he heaves the two sacks over his shoulder and stomps off. “Both of you take the rest of their stuff. And you, Orc. Are you gonna walk or what?”
“Guts can walk,” the orc replies hurriedly. “If Borg ask why slow, tell him monster attack. Human see dangerous monster from before, right?”
“Tell him yourself,” the man says evenly. “Now, hurry up. Borg has been waiting, and you know he hates doing that.” Guts follows after the man while two more appear out of nowhere. One man drags the remaining two goblins from Guts’ group while the other carries the sacks full of food.
“Both of you will do well to follow me,” the girl says, making to walk off.
“Gegege.” I jump at Goblin A’s response. It has gotten on to its feet and is hobbling forward with its glaive-cane. I remain rooted to the spot until it turns its head to look at me. “Gege?”
To stop myself from firing off questions, I nod at the goblin and follow.