NOVEL NEXT Ch. 3
My stomach turned. The villager’s thrashing slowed, his arms going slack as he floated in the shallow ditch, oblivious to the real danger lurking beneath. He didn’t know it yet, but I did: something under the water could strike faster than any sane person could anticipate. Every second he lingered like this, unaware and defenseless, made it more likely that whatever it was would find him first.
I had no time to debate proper etiquette, heroics, or whether I looked ridiculous. I had to act, now.
I eyed the ditch. Shallow—barely past Silvermane’s ankles. I didn’t need Ceralis to know that my raw strength would never be able to push a blade past the creature’s skin, but maybe I could cut it deep enough for it to relent.
Fighting on foot meant risking both myself and the villager. But on horseback? I had attempted horse maneuvering through shallow water before. It was idiotic, yes. Foolish, yes. But possible.
“Alright, Silvermane,” I muttered, gripping the reins. “We’ll harass, we’ll taunt, and maybe convince our friend here that leaving his hiding spot is a terrible idea.”
I nudged her forward along the muddy bank, staying just far enough to keep the water shallow under her hooves. “Look here, you glorified pond snake! Overgrown eel! Come on, show me what you’ve got!” My voice carried over the ditch, half insult, half challenge.
The water rippled, and then the apparition appeared, bright and impossibly crisp in my vision. Ceralis had something new to show me.
[Standard Bogmaw – LEVEL 8]
HP: 98/98
STR: 35
END: 27
DEX: 20
What in the blessed name of Saint Merin? This thing has twice or triple my stats in almost everything! And what in the strawberry-flavored arsehole is HP?
[ENQUIRY RECEIVED – Stats Explanation]
HP = Health Points. Represents physical durability. When HP reaches 0, entity is incapacitated.
STR = Strength. Determines melee damage potential.
END = Endurance. Determines ability to resist fatigue, stagger, and melee damage.
I ran a hand down my face through the slime‑slick gauntlet. So: 98 HP, 35 STR, 27 END. I hadn’t had the time to study the math, but I knew those numbers meant every single bite, thrash, and lunge would hurt. A lot. I would need to out-maneuver the creature, buy time for the villager to escape, and strike at the bogmaw’s weakness when I could.
I took a breath, letting my eyes roam over Silvermane. Time to see exactly what kind of advantage I had.
[ENQUIRY RECEIVED – Silvermane, Great Mare of Mostenstein]
HP: 70/70
STR: 36
DEX: 48
RIDE: 0
INT: 20
RNG: 0
END: 35
Her DEX is 48. I can out-maneuver the bogmaw, as long as I don’t bog myself down in the water.
I nudged Silvermane forward along the muddy bank, staying just far enough to keep the water shallow under her hooves. “Look here, you glorified pond snake! You overgrown eel! Come on, show me what you’ve got!”
The bogmaw stirred as I zig‑zagged along the bank, slashing at water with the flat of my blade, keeping the creature irritated and moving, all while keeping the villager safe in the shallows. I even tossed a quip, “You stupid! You look so malnourished! So slow! What was your last meal, duckweed? Tadpoles? If you’re so tough, try catching me!”
I began circling near the bank, keeping Silvermane close enough to the water to look threatening, but not so close that we’d get stuck in the mud. Occasionally, I let her hooves dip into the shallow water, splashing just enough to draw the bogmaw’s attention.
The creature thrashed in irritation, growling and lunging forward with its serrated jaws. Its teeth clashed just inches from Silvermane’s hooves, missing by a hair, but such was a calculated hair. Its attack was too predictable.
I slashed at the water again, forcing it back, taunting with exaggerated gestures. “Really now! That’s the best you’ve got? My granny’s slippers move faster than that! Come on, try again! Aim for the water, not your own dignity!”
But then I got too close. The bogmaw lunged with a mouthful of jagged teeth.
RIDE Check: 66 > 47 → Success
SILVERMANE DEX Check: 48 > 32 → Success
We both yelped, twisting just in time. The creature snapped at my boots, missing by inches. Water splashed and muck flew. Silvermane twisted, splashing sideways, and I leaned over the flank to get a better angle. I spotted the opening: its throat stretched just a hair too far forward, scales glinting in sunlight, membranous frills spread wide.
My opening!
“Learn some manners!” I shouted. “BEHOLD! THE MIGHTY, TERRIFYING, UNHOLY SLASH OF KNIGHTLY JUSTICE!”
I brought the sword down in a brutal arc. The blade bit into the bogmaw’s fleshy maw, tearing through . . .
[-1 HP]
Warning: Your ATK is lower than the creature’s END.
. . . Nothing.
[Standard Bogmaw – LEVEL 8]
HP: 97/98
The creature flinched, more offended than wounded. I pulled back, heart hammering, and blinked at the bogmaw’s still-glimmering scales. “Well, easy now!” I called out with knightly civility. “By Saint Merin, surely we settle this like proper knights! Preferably over tea and biscuits . . .”
Internally, my thoughts were less polite. That’s how strong my ultimate move is? I ground my teeth behind the helmet. I can’t even get through a reptile’s skin. My grand, terrifying, UNHOLY SLASH OF KNIGHTLY JUSTICE barely tickled it . . .
The bogmaw thrashed again, snapping its jaws straight at my boots. I leaned hard into Silvermane, guiding her with the reins as if steering a small ship through a storm.
RIDE Check: 66 > 35 → Success
SILVERMANE DEX Check: 48 > 24 → Success
The creature’s teeth tore through air where my boots had just been, spraying muck like a failed fireworks display. Silvermane braced, then with her hind legs, kicked at the bogmaw’s exposed maw.
I heard the satisfying thunk of impact. Surely the creature felt DAMAGE now.
[-1 HP]
[Standard Bogmaw – LEVEL 8]
HP: 96/98
I double-checked. Silvermane’s STR was 36. The creature’s END was 35.
Silvermane, you need to train your legs . . .
‘A proper kick from the mare of Mostenstein herself! Consider that a lesson in manners, foul pond monster!’ I still found it in myself to bellow.
But before the words could fully leave my lips, Ceralis intervened, overlaying a new version in my vision. “Tremble, wretched spawn of water and filth! For I am Henry Hildebraud, Scion of Mostenstein! Your maw shall know the righteous wrath of Saint Merin, and your bones shall rattle in despair!”
That . . . sounded terrifying. More terrifying than anything I’d ever intended to say. Even I, the master of ridiculous taunts, had to pause. Surely this would frighten the creature to no end.
[Intimidation Failed — Creature doesn’t understand human language]
Consider Activating: Silent Authority
Silent Authority? How do I even activate that? There wasn’t time to read the manual, or to consult Ceralis. The bogmaw was still thrashing, snapping, lunging—still very interested in me as its menu. I had to keep moving, keep Silvermane between me and the creature, and keep the creature focused on me.
I zig-zagged along the bank again, splashing water, slashing the flat of my blade for effect, and letting Silvermane kick every now and then. “Really, you overgrown pond noodle,” I muttered, ducking under a snapping jaw. “Don’t you have somewhere more productive to lurk? Maybe a nice algae patch?”
The creature thrashed, annoyed, furious, but thankfully predictable. I leaned into Silvermane, guiding her carefully, letting the shallow ditch do the work of slowing her momentum just enough to stay safe. My chest heaved, and for the first time in minutes, the adrenaline that had sharpened my senses began to ebb. Muscles I hadn’t realized I was clenching now protested with a throbbing ache. Every breath burned, and a heavy, foggy fatigue shrouded my vision.
Stamina: 20%
[WARNING: Further physical strain might cause harm]
Then I glanced to my side. The villager was gone. Likely safe. Probably shaken, maybe thinking he’d simply slipped and scrambled free. I didn’t need him to know. A good knight doesn’t wait for applause. A good knight acts, and that was enough.
With that thought, I allowed myself a short, victorious breath. The bogmaw glared at me with uncomprehending fury, but Silvermane and I were disengaging. I guided her back to the firm ground of the road, keeping a cautious eye on the creature until the bank curved out of sight.
I stared at the empty space ahead. Maybe that villager never even realized I’d risked life and limb for him. Maybe he’d never know. But no matter. A good deed is a good deed, and that’s what a good knight does.
But how am I supposed to do good deeds if I’m this weak?
I felt the tension in my shoulders finally start to sag, the adrenaline ebbing like the water in the ditch. My arms ached from swinging the blade, my legs from gripping Silvermane, my lungs still trying to catch up. Every nerve in my body screamed for a proper rest and a warm bed.
We needed a town.
I rubbed at my jaw through the gauntlet and let out a low, tired groan. “Alright, girl,” I muttered, my voice hoarse. “Let’s find somewhere to stop before I collapse on your back and ruin the upholstery.”
I nudged Silvermane forward, steering her onto the road. The next town awaited.