The surroundings were moist and condensed, followed by the flurry of cold winds from the deep, lush forest flowing in and cooling the heat everywhere. The foul stench of rotten flesh permeated the air, as the reverberation of steps from multiple ghouls disturbed the ecosystem of the undergrowth.
With a firm grip on his military knife, Quagmire's pained yet hopeful expression surged forward. There were multiple ghouls coming in, and the nearest one was heading straight for him.
He stepped forward, despite all the aching in his body. The ghouls were getting nearer and nearer, and when one finally closed in, he took another step forward and swung his knife into the head of the ghoul.
"!!!" The blood and brain innards of the ghoul gushed out when he removed the knife from its head.
It was a quick attack, yet it seemed to take forever. He glanced from left to right. Unfortunately, another ghoul was already too close to him—perhaps a bit too close for comfort.
He could not let himself be knocked down again and pinned to the ground like a fool, so upon seeing the ghoul, he reacted almost instantaneously.
Quagmire, basing his action on instincts, kicked forward into the knee of the ghoul.
"!!!" The ghoul growled. Upon hearing and seeing the growling ghoul, he was delighted.
The ghoul staggered and gave him a momentary respite, but he did not waste time and immediately plunged his military knife deep into the ghoul. After the knife was driven in, he brought it out, where the black-green liquid or blood of the ghoul gushed out along with its brain matter—all rotten, though.
With a resounding thud, the ghoul fell hard to the ground, with all its blood and innards leaking out from the side and into the soil, where it seemed to rot the earth with its disgusting stench and disease.
Quagmire almost immediately glanced from side to side and saw that two ghouls remained, which were quite a few meters away. So he used the few seconds of time he had as a moment of respite—a time to improve himself and breathe a few breaths, to allow his muscles and lungs to recover from the high-intensity conflict before and ahead of him.
After taking a few breaths, he again affixed his firm gaze toward his enemy. What was once a blurred vision became clear, and with it, a rational mind. Along with that, a firm grip on his bloody military knife, which he brought closer to his face.
Even though he had gotten rid of half of the ghouls, fatigue was accumulating throughout his body. It seemed that after this fight, he might lose consciousness if he exerted too much, or he might just collapse. Until then, he must keep moving forward and eliminate the risk as much as possible.
The ghoul, inches away, with its disgusting stench and horrendous facial features, came into view. Glancing to the other side, he saw the remaining ghoul was getting closer, which was dangerous.
Quagmire could not allow such a situation to unfold, as that would mean if both attacked together, there was a high chance he might be overwhelmed by fighting two enemies at once—which he would like to avoid, as he was just starting in this world. Nobody really wanted to die this early into the game.
Thus, taking the initiative in the unfolding situation, he once again dragged his aching body forward and dashed straight ahead, arriving directly in front of the enemy ghoul.
The ghoul growled. The foul stench emanating from its mouth and the eyes that had fallen from their sockets, along with its deformed face, was too creepy for comfort.
He plunged the military knife from the side, with its blood and innards gushing out of the wound on the opposite end where the bloody knife exited. With that, the life from the lifeless eyes of the ghoul disappeared without a trace.
With a glance from the side, he saw the last ghoul sneaking up on him. Alas, the ghoul was too late. He yanked his knife from the head of the third ghoul he just killed. It fell to the ground and promptly died—where it should have long belonged.
Quagmire affixed the military knife in his hands and held it using the proper technique. Just as the ghoul was about to get near, he stepped forward once again, and fortunately, he had realized a great way to kill these bastards. So he put it into action, like he always did.
Upon getting closer to the ghoul, Quagmire leaped and kicked it in the knees, where the ghoul stumbled down. This was the last ghoul, and so, with it on the ground, he pierced its skull with his knife, and the ghoul promptly died afterward.
The battle was finally finished; he had killed a lot of ghouls, and he was satisfied with the results. Despite having many injuries, he was able to kill several ghouls. This meant he was not that much of an idiot in many ways, and so he was proud.
After taking a few dozen breaths and relaxing his muscles and mind, he turned backward and moved forward—toward the direction of the river a few meters ahead.
Now, looking over the battle, he saw that his uniform was filled with the stench of ghoul blood and some innards on his once-battered uniform, as if he came from a very long war and only had one set of clothes due to a lack of resources and heavy fighting. Nevertheless, he could now drink some potable water, clean himself, and wash his aching body.