“Wait or progress?” Mike asks eagerly, facing towards the crossroads.
Meanwhile, I grunt and struggle to pull out my stick from the carcass, bracing myself over it with my foot.
“Two, three, five… six of them on the way,” Astrid mutters, counting and warning us with a worried tone. I pause for a moment and raise my sight as I hear her voice.
“Need a hand?” Mike turns his head towards me while I struggle to pull.
*Squelch*
My stick finally slips out with a blood spurt. The pointy end is covered in blood with tiny black lumps.
“Never mind,” Mike notes.
Luckily for us, the new upcoming nutrias are distributed evenly. We can take them one by one.
I hold my thick baton, look at Mike, and walk towards the closest hopping fat rat, inviting the tall boy with my sight. Astrid stays in the back, holding the fluffy cat.
Cropfield Nutria, Level 2
"Level 2, eh?"
No hesitation from my side.
*Bonk* I smash it directly in the center of the crown of the head. The health depletes by about one-eighth.
Mike pokes it right away with his stick, but it bends as it''s more flexible and thinner, so he switches to a slashing stance rather than poking or smashing.
My right forearm hurts after absorbing the impact of a firm solid baton.
*Bonk*
I grunt and smash the top of the dome again. The nutria seems disoriented, missing its pitiful attack—those blows must have resonated through its skull, likely giving it at least a mild concussion.
As Mike sees this, he decides to move on to another target, and he drags Astrid while giving her instructions.
My already beaten-up nutria faints, and I repeat my stab.
This time to the neck for easier penetration.
*Tschk*
*Ding*
“Ding after one, ding after two.” I believe three more for the third point.
No time for fiddling inside menus, the next target is this one! I choose one approaching from the side.
Checking on the couple, I see Astrid fighting with one using Mike''s weapon. He stands close, encourages, and covers her, little cat Pocco is furiously growling, readying for his scratch attack.
<hr>
After beating up my third nutria without any damage, I take another peek at Mike and Astrid.
She seems to have finished successfully, so Mike takes back his stick and relentlessly runs towards the other nutrias. He pokes them precisely with his sharpened end in their eyes, avoiding the thick fur so it don''t bend.
They seem to get more aggressive and fast, but he is more furious and skilled at dodging.
After a few dozen precise strikes, another two nutrias are done.
“Whoa.” At this pace, he will clear this area all alone. I brace up and choose another screeching approaching beast.
<hr>
*Smash, slash, bang and stab*
I stand there, sweat dripping from my forehead and my right arm pumped from the effort.
It’s done.
My baton is soaked with blood, and Mike''s stick has lost almost half of its length. Sweaty foreheads and four more dead animals lay behind us.
“Ahh, let''s see. Now I know what I like—fast, precise attacks and perfect dodges. I believe Agility it is. Maybe even forever,” he mutters under his nose, making hasty conclusions.
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Holding a bloody broken stick in his left hand and fidgeting with his fingers in the air with his right hand, he finishes with his skills. His leg twitches again a bit. Astrid stays nearby, grooming the cat.
<table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 36.6613%" border="1">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Michael Ambers </td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">foreigner</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">level 4</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Strength</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">4</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">no skill</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Agility</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">6</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">no skill</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Willpower</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">2</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">no skill</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Endurance</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">4</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">no skill</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
Fast and agile is great, but my body is suggesting to be rather strong and steady. Even the thought of it makes me feel comfortable.
Two clicks away, and I notice my veins on my forearms more visible for a moment, like a larger flow of blood went through them.
<table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 36.6613%" border="1">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Markus Hale</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">foreigner</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">level 4</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Strength</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">7</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">no skill</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Agility</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">3</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">no skill</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Willpower</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">4</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">no skill</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Endurance</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">3</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">no skill</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
“Astrid, what about your point?” he asks her.
“I don’t kno...” Before even finishing, Mike suggests she go for Agility and starts explaining why.
I step into the conversation and, on the contrary, suggest her Strength, as I noticed she could barely hold the stick in her small hands.
This was a fatal mistake as I noticed right away in Mike''s eyes that he clearly doesn''t like that I suggested anything to her. Maintaining my poker face, I back away and clean my weapon over the tall grass.
Astrid fiddles around in the air with her fingers while he keeps talking, navigating, and explaining to her.
“Stop it!” She hushes him angrily, even the fluffy Pocco raises his head. “I’ll go with Willpower.”
“You don''t even know what that does...” He stops while she gives him a serious look.
“I have it the highest amongst the other attributes. This must mean something.”
<table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 36.6613%" border="1">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Astrid Alm</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">foreigner</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">level 2</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Strength</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">2</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">no skill</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Agility</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">4</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">no skill</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Willpower</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">7</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">no skill</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Endurance</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">2</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">no skill</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
Mike nods to this, and the fluffy cat jumps right into Astrid''s open arms. We walk towards the crossroads.
<hr>
After a few minutes of walking, we are almost near our goal. The sun is shining in our faces, and it’s getting way too hot, so Mike proceeds to take off his thin black jacket and throws it over his shoulder.
“Hey, something twinkled in the distance!” says Astrid and points in the direction.
I wipe the sweat off my forehead and hold my hand against the sun. It looks like a twinkling mirror in the distance.
We stop and watch the location she pointed at.
<hr>
After walking a short distance, an entity reveals itself in full majesty, glimmering in the light with each step—A tall slim knight in full metal shiny plate armor emerges from the tall grass.
The twinkling thing was his shiny helmet, covering his whole head and face.
"Holy shit", this is unexpected, exciting yet extremely terrifying. I immediately crouch. Astrid follows, and so does Mike.
“Maybe he can give us a hint where we are and give directions?” whispers Mike. Astrid is quiet, so I nod to him.
I get up and cautiously make a few steps to approach the knight slowly. My palms are getting sweaty, and I have to wipe them over my shirt. Mike follows me as we decide to walk casually after a bit of a sneaky walk.
Step by step and we are standing almost next to him, yet he still does not see us.
Is it the helmet? Weird. How hot is it in that armor anyway?
“Ahem. Hail, sir knight, can you tell us where we are?” says Mike boldly, before I even open my mouth. The knight slowly turns his head towards us, and immediately a red bar appears over his head with red letters.
Lecherous Knight, Level 30
What the fuck!? Lecherous? Who the hell gives himself such a name? Or did just someone else name him? Now I have an even worse feeling about this.
Not the knight himself, but his name makes me worried. The knight unsheathes his hilted sword in a blink of an eye and thrusts it towards Mike.
He reacts quickly, and I believe he has all the luck in the world at that moment. He miraculously uses his jacket to slow the inertia of the attack, cutting off the left sleeve in the process and not his torso in half, or some limb.
Astrid stands up to get a better look, but the knight immediately notices a third figure in the distance and looks directly at her.
This moment buys time for me to quickly back away and avoid another attack that could follow.
I focus my sight inside the thin visor in his helmet, and I can see wrinkled skin and light blue piercing eyes giving her a predator look, even from that distance. This moment buys me another time to arm myself this time.
I’m not running from this!
While taking out my baton, my hands are trembling.
*Swoosh and crack*
His next sword attack lands on my only weapon, cutting it in half.
Then the next distraction comes.
Pocco flees from the arms of a defenseless girl and sprints towards the knight.
The cat jumps, extends his paws, and tries to attack the knight.
He reacts like a beast he is, tracking every single movement of the knight, constantly hissing and walking around him in circles.
Many things flash through my mind. Is the cat that stupid? No! That look in his green eyes is almost human-like. Is he simply a brave pet, or is he more than an animal? Is he buying us time to escape? I wonder why a pet would do such a thing.
Another weird and concerning thing is, why does a knight level 30 ignore the rest of us and is dealing with a petty animal?
Mike, meanwhile, backs away to hold down Astrid, who screams for Pocco and approaches the knight without thinking twice.
I finally make my distance too and observe the situation once more.
Pocco is miraculously dodging the sword attacks and stomp attacks, jumping over the long claymore which often ends up buried inside the ground.
But the last double-handed swing from overhead is followed by a quick surprise attack.