DIE TRYING [A Roguelite Extraction LitRPG]

Everything in this world just wanted to kill Wade, and he had no idea what he'd done to deserve this.

He was even willing to let the weasel eat its meal in peace, but no, it chose violence.

Then again, it was a weasel. A weasel. Wade had seen enough animal documentaries to know better. Those cute furry little animals were born killing machines on the level of cats.

He stumbled back, nearly tripping over the stool behind him. The weasel's movements were impossible to track - it darted side to side like a living shadow. He lunged out with his own stool, and the little creature darted out of the way immediately. Then lunged after Wade. By instinct, and wanting to stay as far away as possible, he tried to stomp at it. The weasel saw that coming, and dove backwards, circling on itself to once again bare its teeth at him.

It lunged again.

"Get away! Get!" He stomped and flailed with his stool again, but the creature flowed away like water, even jumping between the stool legs. Another stomp, another miss. The thing must be playing with him, testing his defenses or something. Darting in and out. Forcing him to take step after step back. Getting closer and closer to him. Like the world's most demented ten inch monster.

He'd just narrowly avoided being killed by a skeleton, was he going to get his throat ripped out by a goddamn weasel? That just seemed like a funny prank.

His back hit the table and it caused him to stumble with a flare of pain from his left hip. Suddenly, none of this felt like a funny prank.

The weasel lunged. Wade kicked out desperately. His heel caught nothing but air as the creature kicked off to the right, avoiding Wade's leg.

It dove at him. Sharp claws dug into his pants leg, taking grip. Before he could understand what was going on, the weasel was already sprinting up his leg. He yelled, jumping up and away, trying to shake it off, but the creature was racing straight for his throat and hadn't slowed down for a moment.

Wade's hand let go of the stool and tried to sweep the weasel off of him, just as the monster passed his chest. His fumble worked, he caught the animal mid-sweep. The weasel adjusted, biting his arm instead. Teeth sank deep and pain ripped through his nerves. Wade ate the curse in his mouth, trying not to scream out and make more noise.

A new debuff was applied: Blackrot.

New Personal quest: There can be only one - Eliminate, purge or dominate the Blackrot entity in your body. Reward: One storefront coin. Continued control over your body.

The texts would have been good information to Wade, if he had the presence to read them. Right now, he felt like he'd just attached a bear trap on his arm. The jaws constricted on his arm, gnawing at him, trying to shake its head and rip skin off.

"Son of a-" He stifled down a grunt of pain, and swung the weasel around, but the thing's jaws clenched harder, holding tight against the centripetal force. Wade finally screamed a few times in blind panic, and slammed his arm against the stone wall.

Level 4 Blackrot weasel - 94%

The weasel equally slammed into the wall but held on, those black-tinged teeth grinding deeper, feet and paws frantically scratching at him, growling with angry squeaks exactly like he'd expect a feral animal to behave. Blood trickled down his arm, dark and wrong-looking. Motes of black dust started to float from his wound.

He clubbed the weasel against the wall again, and again. But the rabid thing didn't let go. Neither did it take much damage from that. Finally, he crushed it up against the wall, pinning it as it mauled his arm harder.

All of this had been instinct and reflex so far, with only a few seconds of actual combat against the monster. But now with the weasel occupied trying to eat his arm, Wade could think for a second.

He had a dagger. And he had the weasel pinned against the rock.

So he drew it out of his pant belt, and shanked the feral thing, right in the gut.

Level 4 Blackrot weasel - 74%

For once in this entire messed up adventure, Wade actually did significant damage to something. The health bar went straight down. The weasel gave a muffled shriek but still didn't let go of his arm, thrashing harder instead. Wade stabbed again. The monster gave another shriek, jaws opening up, wiggling out of the way of his follow-up third shank.

Maybe any other animal in nature would have decided to escape by now, but the weasel was built like a psychopath, and decided it wasn't going to back down until one of them was dead.

Like a viper, it scurried on top of his arm somehow, moving too fast for Wade to really understand what was going on. All he knew is that it was rushing right for his throat again, absolutely obsessed.

Reflex made him back away with a shrill scream, hands thrown high up. Jaws that should have found Wade's throat ended up getting stuffed by his bicep as his blind panic miraculously saved him.

The weasel hadn't wanted the bicep, but it wasn't picky either as it once more started gnawing and shredding through his work shirt, skin, and muscle.

Wade immediately shoulder checked the animal back into the wall, using his full weight to crush the tiny thing with every bit of strength he had. It squealed in pain, health bar dropping down a bit more - but still did not let him go, tripling down on biting the shit out of Wade.

He leveled his dagger at the weasel's exposed face while it growled and thrashed. It was more difficult than he thought, if he stabbed the thing in the head, he could easily puncture through and stab himself.

Teeth were sinking deeper into him, and he could feel the little menace ripping through his muscles, forcing him to just commit to something, anything, and kill the bastard.

So he stabbed the weasel's back. That was the easiest target, and much easier to hit.

The creature's jaws let go with another shriek and it finally dropped to the floor. Stunned for only a half second before it began to thrash around.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Level 4 Blackrot weasel - 29%

Wade didn't trust it would die on its own in peace, the weasel had proved itself the single most bloodthirsty little beast he'd ever seen in his life. No mercy.

He was fairly sure just one stab through a normal earth weasel would have killed it beyond reasonable doubt. But this bastard tanked three stabs and was already lunging out after him. Fortunately, its movements were sluggish enough Wade could jump away in time. Still dangerous, but no longer the liquid-fast precise motions it had when it was dodging all of his stomps.

Blood matted its side where he'd stabbed it, as much as he could tell from the buzzing dust of black around it. There was far more of the dust now, all of it coming from the blood pooling under the feral rodent.

The dagger was too dangerous. If he missed with his blade, his face would be way too close, and for whatever reason the weasel seemed to know exactly where his throat was at all times. So Wade had to stomp the monster to death with his heel.

It leaped to the right, then back at him, managing to catch his pant leg again. He yanked back, fabric tearing, and kicked hard. He caught the angry weasel in the stomach, ripping it off his pants. It was sent flying into the wall where it collided with a sick crunch, and rolled back down.

Level 4 Blackrot weasel - 23%

Still thrashing around and still very much not dead. Wade grabbed a stool, raced forward and swung like he'd been carrying a metal bat, aiming for the head.

The weasel dodged death's door, back on its feet, rushing away from Wade for the first time, scurrying to the other side of the table. Finally, it seemed to have decided its full on obsessive commitment wasn't giving results.

An uneasy truce came down between the two of them. He could feel his body crashing through the exertion of the past half hour. That single point he'd added was already carrying him through this fight.

Identify.

He started with himself.

Level 3 Player - 83%

Not great, but looking down at his mauled arm, that made some sense. On the other hand…

Level 4 Blackrot weasel - 24%

The weasel's health bar had jumped up by one percent. The weasel was healing.

"What the fuck?" Wade whispered out. "I stabbed you three times. THREE TIMES."

How was it healing from that? How was it still running around for that matter?

The weasel simply hissed back in answer. And then abruptly stopped. The head turned to the right, then back to Wade, and back right again.

Without another sound, it turned to to the tunnel it'd come from, and ran.

First thing that came out of Wade was a sigh of deep relief. Whatever this feral thing was, it at least was going to leave him alone.

Then he heard sound from behind him, down the tunnel he'd crawled in from: The sound of a trapdoor being ripped open.

The weasel's departure made a lot more sense in hindsight.

The noises of the fight must have drawn the skeletons to here. More than just found, it was currently being ripped apart given the sounds.

"Shit shit shit." Wade kept his hands on the heavy metal stool, then decided to just leave it behind. That was a small army of skeletons, and the metal stool would slow him down. If the skeletons caught up to him, the stool was next to useless. He needed to run fast, and not trip.

His hands flew to the lantern instead, yanking it off the table. The quartz crystal inside pulsed with that strange inner light, and he prayed it wouldn't die on him in the darkness ahead.

In a semi-hilarious twist of irony, his chewed up arm was feeling a lot better than the rest of his tired body so far. Better than just okay, the pain hadn't hit at all through the adrenaline, and he still felt like he could move the arm as normal. It was holding his lantern without any issue and he hadn't thought to question that till now.

He put all those thoughts aside. Right now, he had to run.

Behind him, the sounds of pursuit started, hollow echoes of skeletal feet against stone. He wouldn't have time to backtrack. Between the staircase possible exit or this tunnel, Wade decided he'd follow behind the world's angriest weasel. Whatever it was, it was a survivor down here and knew the lay of the land better than he did and it had gone off the sewer exit path. He gritted his teeth and started running down the tunnel after it.

Mild pain shot through his left leg immediately, but nothing like it it had used to be. He could run normally without limping for a while.

The tunnel curved sharply left, and Wade's socks splashed into something wet. The rough-hewn walls gave way to stonework, ancient bricks stacked in neat rows that disappeared into darkness. The ceiling rose way higher, and the cramped mining tunnel turned into a much larger passage.

Wade lifted the lantern higher. The glow revealed a shallow channel of clear water running down the center of the tunnel, with giant walkways on either side. Oh thank god, actual infrastructure. Far above, metal grates in the ceiling let in thin shafts of light that cut through the gloom. He couldn't see what was up there, only that the lights were the same low golden glow as his lantern. But if there was grating up there, and smooth water-filled tunnels down here…

Okay, it really is just the sewers. Sewers are good. Sewers mean civilization.

It did feel like he was a tiny kid running through, given the size down here, but maybe the Nathir weren't human-sized to begin with. His thoughts were quickly distracted because from somewhere ahead, sounds of life echoed back. Not skeleton sounds. He heard voices.

Human voices. English. Muffled in the distance. He looked down the tunnel and saw a distant light. Moving to a beat of walking.

He'd finally found people.

And he was dragging a horde of skeletons right into them.