Chương 7: Ambush

Pain seared across his chest as the claws sent him sprawling. Joel's quarterstaff went flying out of his grasp, the wind getting knocked out of him as he hit the ground. Rolling with the momentum, he tried to ignore the pain and spring back to his feet. But a weight, centered on his torso, prevented any movement. A heavy paw sat there. [WARNING: Prone (Status Effect). Tilt 1 afflicted.] [WARNING: Restrained (Status Effect). Tilt 2 afflicted.] A hulking black bear snarled, inches away from his face.

The beast pressed forward, threatening to crush him slowly. Joel screamed as he felt a rib crack, gasping in the bear's sickly hot breath. [Damage taken. HP: 58%] He scrambled under the bear's arm, trying to lift it off of him. Aiming his heel at the creature's snout over and over again, he kicked out desperately. It did nothing but make the bear ground him down harder. [Damage taken. HP: 52%] The pain almost blinded him from seeing the cutlass cut through the air.

Boreth's blade slashed across the beast's face, forcing the beast back and off of him. The monstrous bear clamored back, its fur flecked with blood. Joel turned to his knees, gasping for air. He regretted doing so instantly, every small movement sent pain rippling through him from his ribs. The cuts on his chest stained the rocks below him. The world spun.

"Get up!" Boreth bellowed, dodging the bear's swipe. Holding his side, Joel pushed himself to his feet. Past Boreth and the menacing bear, he saw Flendel laying facedown. A pool of blood gathered underneath him.

"Flendel's hurt bad," he yelled, wincing as he steadied himself. There was more fighting around camp, shouts coming from the dark.

"We have to stop the bleeding soon or he's dead." Boreth shouted a battle cry as he swung his blade, cutting the bear upon its shoulder. The dwarf pressed forward; his grey beard shook as he attacked. It was clear he was trying to push the bear away from Flendel's unconscious body. Joel stepped forward, only for the bear — barreling past Boreth — to block him off. How did it know they wanted to help Flendel? Either way, they'd have to scare it off.

Joel lifted his fists into a boxer's guard before realizing how ridiculous he was being. Was he really going to try and trade punches with a bear? It was one thing to have [Martial Arts Proficiency] but he wasn't truly a Monk. Boreth seemed to agree.

"Don't be stupid! I'll hold it off properly for a few seconds. Help Flendel." He burst forward, charging the bear. His movement became fluid, like rain slipping through one's hands. Each claw attack was nimbly avoided and countered with a sharp jab of his cutlass. The dwarf became a wave of flourishing stabs and slashes, holding the bear at bay. [Battle Surge]. A cornerstone class feature of the old Warrior class that Joel had glimpsed while browsing through higher level abilities.

It also meant Joel had about six seconds before Boreth would slow down. He sprinted towards Flendel, doing his best to ignore the pain that shot from his ribs. Flendel groaned as Joel pushed him, rolling him onto his back. Now that Joel was closer, he could see the burly man had a sizable bite on his side. Joel had to move Flendel away, somewhere he could stop the bleeding momentarily As he hauled Flendel backwards, the pain made him see flashes. He was hardly moving the heavy man, trying to drag him backward.

It was all a mess.

"[Ability Score Upgrades], [VITALITY +50], [MIGHT +100]," he yelled out, the shout blending into the clamour around camp. The pain immediately began to subside, the injection of VITALITY enough to boost his HP to sixty percent. More importantly, Flendel became lighter, allowing Joel to quickly drag the bloodied man behind a stone slab downhill. Ripping his cloak into makeshift strips, Joel worked a bandage around the torso. He kept a hand pressed on the wound, applying as much pressure as he could muster.

The fearsome roar of the bear made him glance over at the fight. The mountain of fur and flesh — fresh cuts all across its body — was angry now. The bear lunged after Boreth with its snapping jaws. Boreth had already begun to slow but still managed to avoid the bite. He brought down another counter strike; his sword sliced down and caught deep into the bear's upper arm. The black bear yanked its arm back. The cutlass was flung back, pulled from Boreth's grasp.

It clanked against the stone, the moonlight reflecting off of its ivory hilt. The beast careened into Boreth, slamming him hard against the rocky hillside. Boreth was going to die. The bear would crush him. And then kill the rest of them. The screams of people dying behind Joel confirmed that future. Joel swallowed his fear, pushing it down to the pit of his stomach. He had to act before it re-emerged. He ran straight ahead, picking up Boreth's dropped cutlass.

"[Class Features], [Fighter], [Shortsword Proficiency]," he muttered. He missed his quarterstaff but this would suffice.

"[Confirm]." The smooth hilt of the sword became familiar, the front weight of the blade felt comfortable. He rushed straight towards the bear's turned side, its attention focused on biting Boreth. He brought the blade down in a chopping motion. Its edge bit deep, cutting straight through the side of the bear. The bear howled and turned to face him. He stepped forward with his attack's momentum as he twisted his grip at the end of the slice.

Flipping the blade, he followed with a second upward strike across the bear's snout. He slipped the rip of the claw. He hopped towards Boreth, glancing over. The dwarf was on his knees, rising slowly. His left arm was shredded from wrist to elbow. The pain should have been extraordinary but Boreth didn't let it show.

"You alright?" Joel asked, returning his gaze on the bear. Boreth gave a laboured grunt in response. At least that hadn't changed. The bear pawed at its face, wiping the blood from the cuts suffered. Joel's second strike had cut deeper than he thought. Backing away like a kicked dog, the bear shook its head, still pawing at the wounds. Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Joel took another step forward while holding a steady grip on the cutlass.

He kept the blade high, at head level, pointed downward. The stance felt comfortable and, more importantly, practiced. Boreth grumbled an approval, so he'd done something right. He took a small stride towards the bear, threatening to jab at it. The beast growled back at him, but didn't lunge. The pain — from the attacks of Boreth and Joel — made the bear seem so alive. Another scream from the camp pulled him from his thoughts.

The following bestial roar did the same for the bear, twitching its snout in that direction. Their gazes snapped back to each other, as if looking away meant ceding the fight. The bear's hulking form tensed. Joel braced himself for its charge. He could feel every bead of sweat on his body. And then the bear barreled away, leaving them both shocked. The beast disappeared into the dark of night, leaving a trail of blood. Both Joel and Boreth looked at each other.

"Flendel." They rushed downhill, towards where Joel had left Flendel, bandaged but hurt. Flendel's dressed wounds had become a stained crimson, dark blood seeping through the makeshift gauze. Even Joel could tell he didn't look good. Still holding his bleeding arm, Boreth kneeled next to the unconscious man.

"The bandage isn't nearly tight enough." He winced when peeking past the bandaging.

"It might not even matter" Joel felt a flush of guilt. Another cry echoed from the campsite.

"Get to the others, I'll help Flendel here," Boreth shouted, glancing at the cutlass in Joel's hand. A strained look crossed his face briefly. He began urgently ripping parts of his own cloak.

"You'll be more useful to them than me." Boreth saw Joel's hesitation.

"Go." It was all Joel needed to move. He sprinted over to the dimmed campfire, bits of its charred firewood scattered around. Silhouettes danced upon the strongbox cart's side, applauded by nearby shouts and cries. By the time he arrived at the campsite, the shouts had died down. He leapt over an encircling stone, cutlass ready. What he saw made him grip Boreth's blade tighter, enough to turn his knuckles white. He quelled his legs from shaking, a fragile refusal against running away.

Three bodies laid strewn on the ground, blood discolouring the soil. Their throats had been torn out, ferocious claw marks all across their body. But the carnage wasn't what halted Joel. The grizzly bear was. The monstrosity stood over nine feet tall on its hind legs. Its thunderous roar seemed to reverberate the darkness of night. Red blemished the fur around its toothy maw and dyed its razorsharp claws.

More demon than beast, the bear heaved through its wounds, an arrow in the shoulder and slashes across its massive frame. The fearsome creature wore a familiar scar across its eye. It was the same bear from the Ulfenor woods. One of the two Joel happened upon during his daily runs at the Berrygood Lodge. He cursed, realizing the fled black bear must have been the other one. But they were leagues away from both the woods and the roadside inn. Had they been tracking them this far?

An arrow, from somewhere behind him, flew through the air, lodging itself into the grizzly. The beast snapped its head to Joel, a terrifying snarl upon its blood-spattered face. Great. Just perfect. He dived out of the way as the bear barreled forward. The beast slammed into the stone, rocking the boulder onto its other side. A quick slice of the cutlass grazed into its muscular hind leg. Risking a deeper cut would be impossible as the grizzly was surprisingly nimble, swiftly turning to face him with claws bared.

Joel took a step back, any distance between him and the beast would be helpful. The cold surface of a boulder greeted his back. A soft whimper came from beyond it. He risked a glance over. Perri sat there, curled and crying. Tears poured from his eyes and snot from his nose. He was shaking, the sobs uncontrollable. Both of his hands clutched his spear tightly, the rusty spear tip rattling. As harsh as it was, he was going to be useless. The surrounding large stones and wagon contained the campsite's heat within.

A smart place for a campsite. However, it was a death trap to try and fight the bear here. Joel moved through two of the larger boulders, turning to face the bear once he passed the stone pass. The grizzly chased after him, charging through the tight passageway. It pushed forward in an attempt to shove its bulky body through. He only had moments. He sprinted forward, a combination of strikes at the bear. Shoulder, snout, face, any exposed location on the bruin. It didn't matter where he struck, only that he did.

Every blow that he landed urged another. Even bloodier than before, the beast finally pushed through, squeezing out. Joel quickly stepped to the side, frantically running for an adjoining gap. He slipped through until claws raked against his back. Pain tore through him. Both his tunic and his flesh shredded. He couldn't stop the scream that escaped his mouth as he stumbled forward, back into the centre of the encirclement. [Damage taken. HP: 22%] [WARNING: Prone (Status Effect). Tilt 1 afflicted.] Fear swelled as Joel saw the alert, almost enough to let him ignore the pain. The blow had struck him for nearly forty percent of his HP. Another swipe like that and he was dead. He scrambled to his knees; he needed to apply more VITALITY right away if- The bear growled behind him. Joel froze, feeling its hot breath on his neck. He closed his eyes. Guess this was it. A small shout from the wagon made him open his eyes. He could hear the bear's head turn.

The beast let out a savage, pained howl before charging towards the lockbox carriage. Finding his courage, Joel spun to his feet. He held out Boreth's cutlass, though he couldn't stop his trembling hand. His eyes caught the form of the bear, turned away from him and facing the wagon. But something was off. The grizzly wasn't moving. Vines, springing from the ground, had wrapped itself around its limbs. They crawled up and coiled around the bear's strong frame.

The bear roared and ripped away at the restraining vines. Yet, for every ripped tendril, several more sprung out. Still hurt, the grizzly appeared unable to completely rip out of the tanglings. Eventually, it was completely enveloped in the creeping ivy, hardly able to budge. Bhas emerged from the shadows, an unsettling smile across the elf's face. Her hand was balled into a fist — tense and twisted — as if she was pulling hard upon an invisible rope. A dim emerald light surrounded her fist. Magic.

Sure, Joel had seen some magic from the hamsters in Gorum's cellar. But this wasn't the same arcane effect he had felt from those rodents. There was something primal about the magic. Bhas said something in her elven tongue, a soft and melodic language. But the tone was taunting, even insidious. The words seem to renew the grizzly's struggle against its bindings. Like a fly stuck in a spider's web, the more the beast thrashed, the tighter its bondage became. The elf slinked over to the thrashing bear.

Taking out their serrated knife, Bhas circled the creature. She ran the tip of the dagger alongside the bear's massive, ivy-wrapped frame, as if she was tickling the beast. When she was done toying around, she squatted in front of the beast's face. Her stare was disquieting. It invoked a different type of dread. The pitch black eyes made it hard to tell where they followed. If she wasn't staring straight at you, you might assume she was looking elsewhere or some place behind you. That wasn't what unnerved Joel.

No, it was the smile that barely surfaced on her lips. A small twitch. A speck of a crooked smirk. Once done with whatever strange ritual she was enjoying, Bhas pressed the knife across the bear's throat. With one swift movement, she sliced its throat. Blood poured out, coating the vines in crimson. The bear's roars became a sickly gurgle until it stopped struggling. She unclenched her hand. The green aura faded away, releasing the magic. The vines fell accordingly.

Using its remaining strength, the bear weakly tried to drag itself forward. None of the former power coursed through its muscles. The colossal beast seemed smaller. Joel's eyes widened. The bear was becoming smaller. Its fur seemed to shrink into its skin. The hulking mass began to deflate. After a moment, there was no longer a bear. Instead, a tanned, gaunt elven man laid in its place, bleeding from his throat. The elven man's scarred face was distraught. Tears mingled with the blood upon his body.

He was still crawling, despite the obvious futility. His feeble, unsteady hand reached out — towards Bhas — before dropping still. The elf laid dead in a pool of his own blood.