Chapter 53: Everything According to Plan (If You Don’t Ask Whose)
Berker's eyes narrowed as he watched his men completely fail to butcher me, his greasy lips curling into an even less attractive expression. "What are you all doing!" he yelled, stepping forward to deal with the issue himself.
He was carrying a maul, long-handled, two-handed, and entirely without subtlety. The head was a block of blackened steel, squared off at one end and wedge-cracked at the other. It wasn't engraved, gilded, or blessed, but it looked heavy enough to fold me in half.
I have to say, I much preferred it when he came armed with a Bayteran chess board . . .
I had few places left to go here. The archers were lined up behind the big guy, their aim trained on me. The last of the foot soldiers were coming at me from the other direction, and goodness knows where the paladins had gone.
Berker, though, was my key concern. And he didn't look best pleased with me, not that I thought we were trying to make friends before.
His massive form came closer, each step thudding like an unpleasant promise. The stench hit me before the fear did. It wasn't just common-or-garden BO, but meat that had gone wrong. It was rank and sour and… carnivorous. Like someone had marinated a corpse in compost and chucked it on the BBQ.
Yet still, somehow, that wasn't the worst part of my current situation.
[System Notification: Aggro Magnetism – Aura Active]
→ Target: BERSERK COMMANDER BERKER
→ Effect resisted: Immune to Rage Debuff – Status: Overleveled Elite Class Entity
→ Threat level exceeds Aura threshold. Aggro Magnetism has failed.
→ Advisory: You may wish to not be here.
Excellent. Cheers for that.
My stomach lurched, my eyes watered, and the inside of my mask suddenly felt like a very bad place to be. Berker raised his maul one-handed, like it weighed nothing and brought it down with all the momentum of divine judgement.
I didn't decide to move. My body did. Somewhere deep inside, the meat autopilot took the wheel and flung me sideways into a pile of rubble. I crashed through planks and plaster, shoulder-first, just as the maul tore through the spot I'd been occupying.
The sound was obscene. Wood splintered, earth cracked, and air howled past my ears as the shockwave from my already-ruined Village Hall shuddered outward like a dying gasp. Debris exploded everywhere with shards of timber, stone dust, and shrapnel from whatever poor furnishing had been unlucky enough to be caught beneath the swing.
Something hit my ankle. Something else hit my pride.
I was pinned half under a collapsed support beam, coughing dust, and I could already feel the bruise blooming like a fast-growing flower down my side. Breathing hurt. Moving would probably involve delicate and fraught negotiations with my ribs.
Berker just pulled, dragging that maul up through the wreckage with the same casual motion you'd use to lift a shopping bag. It worried me that it looked like he was just getting warmed up.
To make life even better, one of the spearman took that opportunity to break formation and close the gap on me. I assume, having killed a bunch of his mates, he had something he wished to discuss with me. My morningstar was somewhere under a pile of Village Hall, and all I had in hand was a snapped beam I'd pulled free while escaping Berker's last swing. It was about five feet long, heavy and had a slight bend to it.
It would have to serve.
Weighted Argument activated as he came in low, spear angled for 'shish kebab', obviously expecting me to retreat. I did neither. I stepped in and took the spear to the side, wincing as it sank in. But that was the trade, wasn't it? Then I swung wildly, two-handed, aiming for his knee. The wood cracked against his greave with a shudder that rattled my arms and more than did the job. He let go of the spear - leaving it in me! – and staggered sideways, any sense of balance completely broken, and I punched the jagged end of the beam under his chin.
If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.
It snapped in half, but I reckon he came off worse. Helmet or not, necks don't bend that way. He made a gurgling noise and dropped like he'd been unplugged.
I let the broken beam fall and reached for the spear still jutting from my side. It came free with a wet crunch that made my vision blur, blood trailing behind like streamers. A notification told me how unwise that had been, and my Health plummeted, but that was another Eli's problem.
My hand was slick with blood on the shaft, but I brought it up anyway, staggered back a few steps, and dragged myself upright into something resembling a guard.
Berker was a little way off and to the left, clearly pleased by the impact his intervention on proceedings had caused, his maul swinging lazily in his hands like a promise I didn't want kept.
My shoulder screamed. My ribs ground together like fractured teeth, and every breath tasted of blood and dirt.
And then, because, of course, today wasn't over yet, another horseman trotted into view. Executioner pace. The kind of entrance that said he'd waited for his moment. That he'd seen the others fall and didn't plan to make the same mistakes.
Good for him.
I raised the blood-drenched spear. Not properly, my arm couldn't quite get there, but high enough. Let's see what else they've got.
You know, I reckon I was looking pretty cool. Bloodied, breathing like a punctured accordion and barely holding a stolen spear upright, but still. Cool.
Then an archer, ever the opportunist, decided to go for the cheap shot. Sucker punch? Sucker shoot? Sucker loose? Whatever the term, I heard the hiss of the arrow coming from behind and through pure reflex and no thought whatsoever, my body jerked sideways.
System Alert: Incoming Projectile Detected – Rear Arc Breach]
→ Reflex Save: \\[Failed]
→ Luck Check: \\[Insufficient]
→ Evasion Trait: \\[Not Found]
→ Processing...
→ Error. Error. ERROR.
→ SYSTEM OVERRIDE – TEMPORARY LUCK ALIGNMENT GRANTED
[System Advisory: This wasn't meant to happen. Probability has been compromised.]
The arrow missed me entirely, clipped a shattered beam behind me, and ricocheted mid-spin. I turned just in time to watch it punch straight through the eye socket of the oncoming horseman's helmet.
He didn't fall immediately. First, he screamed, then he slumped sideways off his mount, crashing into the dirt with his hands clawing at his ruined face.
Somewhere deep in the failing static of my mind, I felt it. The flicker of presence, the echo of a voice I hadn't known I'd been listening for. That's your lot, Eli. I'm out of favours to call.
And then nothing.
The archers glanced at each other in confusion. How was I still alive? How had I taken down so many of their comrades without even swinging a weapon? Why did they keep shooting their mates in the face? I watched as their grip on their bows loosened, and they began creeping backwards into the trees.
"That's right! You better run! You're dealing with a Warden here!" It took me a moment to locate the cause of that shout. It turned out to be me.
Berker, however, was far from impressed.
"You think you're clever, do you?" he said, dragging his massive maul behind him as he rolled towards me. "But your luck's about to run out."
Berker swung at me, his maul cleaving through the air like a guillotine swung by a drunk god. I ducked under it, just barely, felt the wind of it kiss the top of my mask, then heard the crunch behind me as it turned what was left of my village into toothpicks.
I scrambled backwards, boots slipping in the churned-up mud, every limb screaming protest. I tried to get space, but Berker came on fast for someone who had ate all the pies.
"You can't keep dodging forever!" he roared, jowls flapping.
A whistle cut the air as another volley of arrows was launched.
I didn't think. I moved. My legs acted before my brain caught up, launching me sideways in a blur. The arrows hissed down, but I wasn't there anymore, just slightly to the left of where I'd been, upright, breathing hard.
The world slowed. And I don't mean that metaphorically. Literally. The System pulsed, and I felt something unlock deep in the bone.
[System Notification: Combat Skill Acquired]
→ Name: Sidestep – Lvl 1
Type: Defensive | Movement
Description: Reactive dodge that triggers when under missile threat or heavy melee pressure. Requires grounded stance.
Effect:
– 35% chance to auto-evade incoming ranged attacks when moving laterally
– +10% Dodge Roll bonus against weapons heavier than your own
– Triggers \\[Momentum Flow] if successfully chained with offensive action within 3 seconds
Advisory: Congratulations. You are now 12% less likely to die tired.
Time snapped back.
Berker snarled and raised his maul again, but something had shifted. My body wasn't just reacting anymore, it felt like it was predicting. I wasn't just dodging, I was dodging on purpose. With a rhythm I'd never actually possessed before. Like I could see the beat of the fight before it dropped.
Who's dancing like a middle-aged dad now, Beth?
I didn't have time to celebrate. Berker was still all over me. The archers were rallying, shaking off their momentary confusion and drawing knives to join their leader in hunting me down.
But you know what?
Bring it on.