NOVEL FROG 46 - Snap Shot
Life was fragile and fleeting in this world. Well, it was in my previous world too - but at that time it had been filled with significantly less violence and conflict. There was me, and my job. Stress sure, but I got by. Now I had murder on the mind and blood on my hands. A heart full of care for others that could just as easily fall and cease to exist. It was maddening, and all I could do was gnash my teeth together in rage and become stronger to keep them safe.
The grisled man spat on the damp ground as he flourished his sword. “Here are the rules. You try to help the pretty little elf, Garren there will cut her throat open. You try to help the animal, and Henikk will put an arrow through his skull. This is just mano v mano.”
Adrenaline and anger shook within me, a dangerous cocktail that had me drunk on bravado. He was full of it, too. Considered himself something of a duelist, or just liked toying with his prey.
“What if I kill you?”
His crooked smile widened. “Then you can kiss my ass in hell, as you three will be there soon after.”
What a bind we found ourselves in. My breathing was slow despite the rage, and my back ached from where I had been shot. Thankfully, I had been able to activate a bandage in my hidden hand without them knowing. Still, even being back to full health didn’t exactly put me at even odds with someone built for melee fighting.
It wasn't like I had any other option but to perform my best. They had set the stage, and I knew what role I had to play. Already exhausted and drained from the day, I was in danger of slipping further past my auto-pilot and into something my subconscious was trying to hide away from. The part of the Other Max. They intended to kill all of us either way, so I needed to think beyond the scope of just saving my own skin.
“Whenever you’re ready then, asshole.” My opponent flourished his sword again and got into a stance ready to attack.
“Prepare to be amazed.” I grinned, mania grasping at the insides of my brain, trying to push through. “As this will be the finale for one of us.”
My dagger spun into my right hand as I ran toward him. His confidence briefly shook as my attack from too far away with the short blade suddenly switched into the large two-handed axe. Sparks flew out as he blocked it, one of his defensive abilities kicking in to enable him to weather the surprise strike.
“Smart fuck are you?”
He slashed outward at my exposed torso, but the axe I held turned into the spear in a vertical position. I was knocked back from the force, but the wooden shaft took the brunt of the attack. It spun as I flourished it to create distance, then I went to throw it at him. He dove to the side, and the spear vanished. Instead a chair appeared in front of my boot already lashing out - kicking the furniture into him as he rolled back. Not really doing a great deal of damage, but the Dazzle tokens were starting to rack up.
There was some amount of chuckling going on within his ranks, that his death-glare silenced as he stood back to his feet. Shame I couldn't see humiliation stacks—although the amount of increasing rage in his eyes did almost a good enough job.
“Some kind of object-creating wizard, very fancy. I’m surprised the Lady in Red didn’t try to recruit you.”
“Do you always monologue right before you die?” I seethed back at him. My eyes were wide and blood ran from my right hand. It wouldn't take much for me to be cut down.
He growled and his sword burst into green flames before he launched himself back at me. I drew a sword to block the first strike, another for the second. Being able to conjure things directly into my hand gave me better dexterity than trying to wield a single weapon into the right places to defend. Especially with my lack of actual melee proficiency. Weapons thudded onto the damp grass as I didn’t have the time to properly swap, only draw anew and then release. Leave nothing to chance. Always using my right hand.
A cut across my right shoulder that drew blood. Then a near miss across my stomach that ripped my shirt but left my skin mostly unharmed. We circled as his attacks seemed unending. Anger in his eyes blazing away at failing to fell me, and in being made to look foolish in front of his underlings. While relentless, his mood was making his moves sloppy. More desperate to end me and gain back his standing. I didn’t care. My ego was the only one here intending to be stroked. An ill task for a bloodied hand, but a necessity all the same.
Plank of wood went up and split in half as I tried to stop one of his combat abilities reaching me - the tip of his blade still pierced near my collarbone, causing me to twitch in pain. The follow up was blocked by a second plank, which I vanished to then grab at his wrist. Whipped my head forward to headbutt him. I received a weak slash in return, my hat dropping to the ground as a line of warmth throbbed across the side of my head.
He stumbled backward, clutching at a broken nose. While I didn’t have the Strength to do much damage, I had at least wounded him with the surprise act. As much as I was tiring, and slowly weakening due to only using one hand, the mental damage I was causing to him gave rise to some odd elation within me. Bullshitting my way away from what should have been an easy kill for him.
“You’re bloodied.” I grinned. “Making me the victor.”
“Fuckin' idiot.” He spat on the grass. “You look like you’re about to pass out from blood loss.”
I raised my right fist to see that it was soaked in blood. My blood. I clenched it closed, causing drops to fall onto the grass. My right eye twitched from the constant pain. I had been ignoring it, but it had gotten to the point where the reveal was long overdue. Nothing more to gain except further cuts and potential death. It was time for me to take control of the performance.
“You’ll have to forgive me,” I said in a hushed, shaky tone, an uncomfortable feeling rising in my core. “A lot of this set I’ve never tried before. It might not be perfect.”
“What are you…?” His brow furrowed, voice cut off as I revealed my left hand.
Equally dripping with my own blood - but much more impressive was the card I held within it. Bright white, as if cut from the sun itself. The purple energy around it was all but scoured away by how much mana I put into this. Not just all my mana, but more beyond that. Using the treant curse I had poured and poured everything I could muster until the agony almost became enjoyable. Couldn't cast any other spells while holding it, so I had relied on my Inventory to bide time. A little twist to turn the tide and subvert expectations.
I was riding a high that was about to hit its peak, like a firework. Max was about to explode and whatever was left would shock and awe… I only hoped what was left after was more than a spent casing when the dust had settled.
“Nice trick, but-“
The bloodied finger of my right hand rose to my lips, telling him to be quiet. I was shaking. Grinning from ear to ear. Manic. “This next part isn’t suitable for all audiences.”
I turned, and the card was gone. It cracked through the air like a lightning bolt, a near instant transmission of energy from my grasp to the intended end point. There wasn’t much option, there was no real option. I hoped I could be forgiven as my spent hands hung low. The after image of the power hung in the air between Ren and I. Surprise in both our eyes. I wasn't a gambling man, the thought once again sunk from my slowly eroding mind. Yet with that one action, all our lives were on the line.
“Fuckin’ dick,” her restrainer growled, “now I’ll slit her-“
He paused, confusion furrowing his brow as he could not move his arm. A line of crimson ran around his forearm by his elbow like a a lit fuse. He jostled to try to get some feeling back into the limb, but with a slick slurping sound, the hand holding the knife lowered as his arm separated at the joint to drop to the ground.
My hands raised in the air
Ren stamped on the thief’s foot and flung her head back into his face to knock him back.
I turned my head toward the ringleader - or was that a circus thing? Purple electricity danced around my body as I smiled calmly. The demon dove I had dropped immediately after sending off the magic card swooped up from the shadows and into the spellcaster's face, trying to peck at his eyes. It was enough to disrupt the sleeping enchantment that had persisted through the brief stun, and Wolf began to stir.
Ren rolled forward to pick up her bow, leaping into the air in the same motion to draw her smite shot back at the stumbling thief. Too quick for him, the radiant shot blew straight through his neck.
Their ranger let loose an arrow toward the bear, but my Card Fan appeared in front of him to block the shot. Agony through my hands at the first time I had used the shield away from my own body. Wolf stood and roared, two different skills activating and pulsing around his body, painted the drab area in bright lights. Beautiful, in its own way.
For my efforts in protecting him, I received the sharp end of the dark sword straight into my side. It was uncomfortable in the way it sliced through skin and muscle and jabbed around in my precious internal organs. I was disjointed from the pain now. Distant, dissociating. Too heavy a day for the part of me that was still soft. But part of me lived for this. Heavenly, amongst the hellish scene.
Lazily, I turned my head to him. “I’m sorry. Max is not home right now.”
The crossbow in my hidden left hand fired a bolt into his thigh, and he stumbled back as I dropped the ranged weapon to switch to the second loaded one, firing a bolt into his other thigh. He lashed out at me and tore a gash through my cloak and left arm.
I brought my right arm around with a plank of wood, numbing his arm and causing his grip to falter. He dropped the blade, and then it was mine. I brought it out as he dropped to his knees, his legs weakening. Held it to his neck.
“Are you the ones that destroyed the outpost?” I crackled with energy. My face loomed up close to his as the tip of the sword drew blood.
“Eat shit.”
“I don’t have any. But I have this.” My left fist swung around and smashed him in the face, the glass I held breaking and covering us both in the contents. He sputtered and choked, a mouth open but spewing no apologies or regrets. I filled it with the hot end of the torch, igniting the spilled oil.
Their healer attempted to cast something on him as I rose to face them. An arrow struck his knee, and the spell faltered. I was already upon him, even though I barely registered moving. Just a blur of purple and anger. I heard the rip and tear of muscle and sinew as Wolf broke the screaming wizard into more digestible pieces in the background. The ranger lay dead already, an arrow in the head not the most becoming fashion trend, but he wore it well.
“You’re going to talk,” I hissed and pulled the man closer to me. “Or I’m going to open up your skull and retrieve the information with a fucking spoon.” Into my hand, a spoon emerged. A very real threat.
He was faltering. Face pale, the sudden shock of the bullies getting their just deserts making him doubt every decision that lead him to this point. His watery blue eyes tried to search me. I’m not sure what for. Did I feel different? Maybe it was the blood loss.
“Where is the Lady in Red?” I pressed my bloodied forehead against his so I could stare into his eyes, draw the information that I craved. I could always take the eyes out if he didn’t want them. Feed them to him, make him see that his tongue wasn’t offering up the goods.
“S-she’s across the river now, past the Golden F-fields.” His mouth trembled.
Purple cards burst over my hands and spun like saws, cutting through his neck and spraying me with arterial blood. Comforting. I dropped the limp body and stood, contented. The rain was loud now, combat having abated, as if I hadn't even noticed the incliment weather until now. My heartbeat thudded in my head as I idly twisted a bandage around in my left hand. I stared off into the horizon, trying to ignore... all of this. Show was done, I was spent. Max must go on. They had to suffer.
“Max?”
I turned my gaze to the side to see Ren with an arrow leveled at me. An interesting white energy circled the arrow in a slow spiral. She lowered it, no scowl upon her face, but worry.
“Everything okay?” I asked. As soon as I spoke the words, agony immediately rushed over me like a switch had been flipped. I stumbled and held my hands up. Both pure red, my left one also embedded with glass. My suit was soaked through in several places, especially my side, where it felt as if someone had thrown a match inside me to cook my organs from within.
“Your eyes… they… here-“ she held her hand out and her radiant healing flooded through me. Oddly uncomfortable at first, but then soothing and warm.
I groaned and sat back, a chair appearing underneath me. My eyes burned, that was for certain. Across from us, the leader of the group lay aflame like a bonfire, flickering against the light rain. Wolf was eating his fill of the others behind.
Catching her eye, I placed a second chair beside me, and she sat. Not even the heat from the fire warmed me. I felt cold and empty.
"The wizard had this on him. You think it was used to track you? Since we keep getting ambushed?"
I turned my eyes over to a page she held. It looked like a child's drawing, a crayon approximation of a man in a purple suit with magic runes plastered on the rest of the paper. For all that I could muster, I just shrugged and groaned.
The elf ripped it in half, and then into further pieces that fluttered away in the air.
"I didn't take my Antidote," I admitted, the empty feeling allowing some truths to slide out.
She shuffled in her chair. "Figured. Why didn't you say? To avoid the argument, or some things just have to be a surprise?"
My face screwed up as I couldn't take my eyes away from the burning corpse. "Closer to the latter. I'm not trying to hide things from you both... I just..." I shuddered as my aching body tried to relax against the wounds I had accumulated. "Part of it is the need to grandstand. Have all these little tricks and options only known to me. It's not something done with malicious intent."
"Okay," she replied. "Secrets aren't good, but you don't have to tell me everything. As long as you're acting in good faith for the Party."
I managed to look towards her tired blue eyes. "Always. I promise, and I'm sorry."
With a nod, we both sunk back into the morose silence. Listening to the rain. Being alive and drawing breath for another day.
“I think I’d like to go to the town now,” she eventually ventured, when we had been doused with enough of the light rainfall to make this untenable any longer.
“I could definitely use a bath.” I stared out blankly at the far distance. Idly, I worked through another bandage or two to try to repair whatever the System thought was dire enough. I tried not to look at the damage report to see what was exactly wrong. Too much, for certain. But it wouldn't list what really mattered. The shards of glass dropped from my hand as I raised it, the healing ejecting the painful objects to fall to the grass.
The demonic dove fluttered over and sat on my numb hand, tilting its bloodied beak to observe me. I wasn’t sure if I could spare the energy to thank it out loud, so mentally I commended it for its service.
“Max…” Ren began, staring out at the corpse crackling from the heat of the burning oil as she stood. “Do you think your Class is more… literal?”
“Demonic Magician,” I murmured, savoring a taste I didn’t yet understand.