Every eye turned to Sezel, wide with the kind of disbelief usually reserved for witnessing someone willingly jump off a cliff.
Ah yes, the question 'Why is this fool courting death?' Well, because death seems to be courting me anyway, so why not make it a mutual relationship?
Rilli also stepped with him on his side, clutching her daggers hard, her frail figure trembling under the weight of the situation.
Sezel spared her a fleeting glance, his heart pounding hard. Then he locked onto the beast, expecting his stone-throwing stunt to provoke them. What happened instead was... interesting.
Every creature turned toward the stone in perfect synchronization, like some twisted orchestra responding to an invisible conductor.
Huh, they are coordinated?
A useful piece of information, assuming he lived long enough to use it.
Arty hauled the leader to his feet. "We're out of options," he declared, his voice tight as a bowstring about to snap.
The leader swallowed what remained of his pride. "How do we get out of this?"
Arty exhaled heavily, leveling his blade at Sezel. Sezel's eyes narrowed, his pulse surging, 'What is this about?' he thought, dread coiling in his chest.
Arty looked down once as if to show remorse, but Sezel saw it briefly, the venomous smile laced on his lips said otherwise, Sezel instinctively took a step back.
"One must sacrifice themselves so the rest can flee," Arty intoned, his voice fracturing with false sorrow.
Such a classic. When in doubt, sacrifice the weakest. I'm genuinely impressed by the originality. Truly groundbreaking strategic thinking. Sezel gritted his teeth.
"What madness is this?" the leader roared, though his eyes already held the gleam of a man considering the proposal.
Arty turned to him with practiced regret. "We use Sez as bait. While they're... feeding, we escape through the opposite side."
Sezel felt their gazes judging him, measuring his worth against their own survival. The math was simple, really.
Let's see. Sezel thought. One worthless orphan versus five 'valuable' lives. Of course, the this works perfectly in their favor.
By then the creatures had abandoned their curiosity of the stone and now turned again towards the group.
"He's right," Beardy muttered, voice hollow. "Boss Arty's got the plan."
"No, stop! You can't do this!" Rilli's voice pierced the stillness, her defense of Sezel fierce despite her trembling frame.
Sezel stayed silent. In his experience, desperate people rarely listened to reason, and these people had already crossed the line from desperate into something much darker.
"Stand aside, Rilli," the leader said, advancing with the confidence of a man who'd found his solution. "He's dead weight anyway. At least this way, his death serves a purpose."
Dead weight? Maybe your mother said the same. He cussed, of course he didn't say it out loud.
"Your logic has one tiny flaw," he called out, his voice carrying just enough mockery to sting. Every creature's head snapped toward him at the sound. But he didn't flinch. "Why waste the scrawny bait when you've got two walking meat shields right there? I'm sure Beardy's bulk would keep them distracted much longer."
The leader's face twisted with rage. He charged at Sezel with desperate ferocity, while Sezel darted to evade him.
"Catch him damnit."
Beardy, the other giant, and Arty surged forward, cutting off Sezel's escape. They formed a tightening circle, their coordination surprisingly effective for a group of panicked idiots.
Fear makes them cooperate better than common sense ever did.
"I'll make it quick," Arty said, his sword trembling as he approached. "Don't resist."
Don't resist? What am I, livestock?
Suddenly Rilli's scream pierced the untangling silence, everyone's gaze fluttered towards her.
She was on the ground, scrambling backward as a Night Crawler stalked toward her, its black tongue lolling from its ruined maw like a diseased banner.
The other ones in their desperate attempt to catch Sezel also forgot about the creatures, Beardy was the first victim, as soon as he turned to the sound behind him. The Night Crawler hit him with the force of a battering ram, driving his massive frame into the dirt as if he weighed nothing.
So much for the meat shield theory.
The leader tried to flee but found himself cornered by two creatures against a gnarled tree. His screams for help echoed through the forest, raw with terror.
Arty dashed toward Rilli while the other thug grabbed a branch and swung it at the beast mauling Beardy. The improvised weapon shattered on impact, about as effective as trying to stop a charging rhino with a flyswatter.
Idiot. what else did he expect would happen?
Arty's blade slashed at the beast menacing Rilli, striking its neck, but the sword retracted with a greater force sending Arty tumbling backwards. It was failed attempt to kill the beast but successful in distracting it while Rilli runs.
Through the chaos, Sezel moved. Not randomly, not in panic. His eyes tracked each beast's position, calculating distances and timing. The dropped pack lay maybe twenty meters away, full of tools that might—might—give him an edge.
If not anything else, the tools inside can help me a bit.
But against foes so overwhelming and numerous, it was a futile gamble, it was like playing a lost game, but Sezel didn't loose hope, if there was just even a tiny bit of hope he will seize it.
Gambling everything on the chance i have is better than waiting for it, either death will knock at my door or i will knock at its door.
With that thought he rushed to get his hands on the bag that contained the hope he was clinging to.
But the goddess of luck had never bothered looking at him from the moment he was born.
The creature he'd stabbed earlier lashed out with its claws, faster than his starving reflexes could manage. Sezel threw himself sideways but the talons caught his left arm, sending him tumbling like a broken doll.
He hit a tree with bone-jarring force. His left shoulder screamed in protest—dislocated, probably worse. Hot blood ran down his arm.
shit.
The beast wasn't done. It stalked toward him with the patient confidence of a predator that knew its prey was wounded. Its maw gaped wide, revealing rows of knife-like teeth designed for tearing.