Matheson was guarding the south-east side of the village, baiting much stronger enemies into a spell-storm to kill them - but this would only go on for so long: the magical storm was shrinking.
“Hmm, I’ll be running soon enough.” he gave a concerned look at the quickly-shrinking cloud.
“Shit…” he exhaled as he saw something dangerous.
Amongst some deep groans of wood, there was a lot of movement in the forest - a force of five treants were wandering through it slowly, and that was when they saw Matheson; to the treant’s he was merely a fluid-filled snack during their nest-expansion conquest.
Easy pickings.
Matheson froze, hoping his movement wouldn’t attract them, but he was only grasping at straws - they immediately charged.
Five treant hectopede’s were bearing down on him, each of them as fast as skeletons.
As part of his training, Matheson had been running all this time - sprinting up the hill to the adventurer association, running through Losla to dungeons, running around inside the dungeons. His dexterity stat was also quite high too, it’s where he put most of his points due to his rapier class, but he was still nowhere near as fast as these creatures. They would catch him, it was only a matter of time.
Meanwhile, the storm was shrinking rapidly. He simply couldn’t rely on it any longer.
Against five of them he only had one choice - to run.
There was no wall around Losla, and no fences either. Matheson could simply run right in between the houses and let the treant’s smash and destroy the peasant houses to their heart's content, while he easily escaped.
“Hmm…” he considered it for a moment. He truly didn’t care about some weak peasants - but he remembered what his father was like.
“I would definitely be blamed for that, and my father would find out eventually. He would find a way to punish me, perhaps take away my weapons just to slow down my development... Tch. Seems like I have no choice.” he gritted his teeth and sprinted off - but not between the houses to safety.
Matheson wouldn’t have minded if the creatures did smash up the dirty-looking houses of the peasants, but it seemed for now that he would have to run between the spell storm and the south side of Losla’s houses, heading back west.
As he passed by the houses, he noticed some faces in the windows, gazing at him in awe. They looked at him like he was their hero.
“What the hell are they looking at? Their faces… look so different.” he thought as he ran.
Since he didn’t understand their hopeful gazes, their looks only made him angrier.
A strange feeling went over Matheson as he ran, each time he passed a house, he saw some hopeful eyes gazing at him.
The people he considered peasants were looking at him as if they loved him, he had never felt such a strange feeling.
It was different from every other smile he had seen: the shit-eating grin of a political enemy, the proud smile of other nobles, the fake smile of people trying to please him, the disdainful smile of a manipulative friend, the mocking smiles of the guards, the demanding stares from his own father.
He then noticed himself slowing down, caught up in his thoughts - this definitely wasn’t optimal while he was running for his life.
“Argh! Foolish fleeting feelings! Strength is all that matters!” he reminded himself, gritting his teeth in anger as he picked up the pace and sprinted faster.
This seemed to do the trick - the combination of anger, pain and focus made the uncomfortable feelings go away.
Thankfully, the south path was coming into sight, and there were guards there too.
“HEY!” he yelled, but due to his rapid breathing, all that came out was a ‘HA!’.
The guards were all quietly preparing for battle. The storm spell would be over soon and they would have to fight.
Some checked their weapons, others chatted, while some simply lay down.
Still, it was enough for them to turn their heads to the weird yelling sound.
Each of their eyes bulged as they saw Matheson - a young adventurer with five treants bearing down on him.
“Shit, get up!” one yelled, he went to wake up another who was lying down.
“Huh?” The one lying down opened one eye before raising his head up slightly, seeing the fear on the guard's face.
“Why is he alarmed?” he wondered.
The group of guards were much higher levels than the treant’s, spore nests, and other things that charged out of the woods.
Meanwhile the spell-storm was still active, so it didn’t really make sense to be so alarmed - he even looked panicked, which was odd.
He looked to where he was pointing, only one eye still open.
That’s when he saw a young adventurer - quite a muscular one too. Oddly, he didn’t have a look of fear on his face, but one of solemn seriousness; his expression was like a mighty boulder, unphased by the world around him.
Next, he saw the charging elementals behind him, and the panic of the other guard made sense.
*FWOOSH!*
The guard lying down suddenly disappeared, leaving behind only a faint dark blue glow of mana which quickly dispersed.
*FWOOSH! - SHRING!*
He reappeared in the air behind a treant, slicing off its head in one hit.
*FWOOSH! ~ FWOOSH!*
He quickly disappeared and reappeared in between two other treants, slicing at their many legs.
Unfortunately it didn’t count as a sneak attack this time, so it didn’t critically strike - the treants stopped charging after they slowed down at least, and thankfully he grabbed their attention.
“It’s in your hands now.” The teleporting guard said quietly as he helplessly shrugged, reaching his limit for teleporting for today.
This left two more treants charging at Matheson, but it wasn’t looking good for him - the guards were fast but not fast enough.
As Matheson heard one getting close he immediately pulled out his rapier and dodged to the side.
Had he not dodged, he would have been pierced by two pairs of antlers, so instead he opted for one pair. There was no way he was dodging both of them.
The sharp brach-like tendrils pierced into his side.
“URRRRGH!!!!” he tried not to scream, only gritting his teeth and growling as blood poured from his body - screaming was for the weak.
Of course, he was not done yet.
*Shring shring shring shring!*
Even while pierced he lashed out.
Just like that, parts of the antlers were cut off and fell to the ground - but to Mathesons surprise, the pain was just beginning.
Each antler that pierced him was moving around like wriggling worms, tearing his flesh and organs apart. Soon, his own organs had started drooping and hanging out of his stomach as he was lifted into the sky.
“F- fuh” he could barely breathe, barely able to even scream as his right lung was completely punctured and was filling with blood. His eyelids were getting heavy as he struggled to hold onto consciousness, lightly slashing at the treant.
At this point, the flame rune in his rapier was doing more damage than his pitiful slashes.
*Shhrrrrr! - BOOM!*
A golden javelin suddenly came whistling through the air, perfectly hitting the treant in the chest - the same treant that had Matheson suspended in its antlers. One of the guards must have used a spell to send it so far and so fast.
The power behind the javelin was so immense that the treant split into two, the middle of the treant simply exploding into dust and wood flakes as each side of it fell helplessly to the ground.
The tendrils digging around in Matheons abdominal cavity all suddenly stopped as he dropped to the ground with them still inside his abdomen.
All this time he had been fighting - not to kill the treant, but fighting to hold onto consciousness, trying to stop his eyes from rolling back into his head.
A green flash of light was the last thing Matheson saw as he hit the ground, unable to hold onto his weak strand of consciousness.
***Bonus Chapter 4/5.***
