Thirteen made sure to meticulously calculate the strength he was going to use so that the Condor wouldn't die from his spear throw.
With its right leg broken and one of its eyes blinded, the monster was in a sorry state, but it could still escape.
This was something that Thirteen didn't want to happen, so he immediately threw his second spear and aimed it at the joint of its wing, which was connected to its main body.
Using his entire body weight to empower his spear throw, Thirteen made sure that his attack would hit his target, and hit it hard.
The Divine-Grade Martial Technique, Cheap Shot Savant, wasn't called a Divine Technique for nothing.
Even with the strength of a seven-year-old, it was very deadly when the one using it was a skilled expert.
Due to using his entire body to create more force to his spear throw, Thirteen almost fell face-first toward the ground due to the momentum of his throw.
However, he had already expected this to happen, so he curled up his body and rolled harmlessly on the ground while Cristopher ran past him.
Thirteen's aim was true and landed on its target, making the Condor screech and crash on the ground.
Cristopher roared as he thrust his spear forward, aiming for the back of the Condor's head using everything he had.
The moment the spear tip hit the monster's head, it shattered, making Cristopher's eyes widen in shock.
He initially thought that his attack would be strong enough to pierce through the Condor's head, but the stone only managed to embed itself in the Condor's body by two inches before breaking apart after hitting the monster's skull.
Even so, this didn't mean that the chubby boy wasn't able to injure his target. In fact, the Condor was in so much pain that it momentarily blanked out due to the impact that it received from its head.
The part was also bleeding, which meant that the wound was serious enough to draw blood.
"Hit it!" Thirteen shouted. "Just keep on hitting it while it is still disoriented!"
Thirteen's shout brought Cristopher out of his daze, and with a shout of fear and desperation, he swung the wooden branch on the Condor's head, hitting the location where it was bleeding.
He repeatedly hit it over and over like his life depended on it.
After receiving a concussion, the Condor's movement became sluggish.
Unable to fully control its body, it fell on its back, unable to do anything against the teenage boy's neverending onslaught.
Cristopher shouted over and over with each strike, until Finally, the Condor stopped moving as blood seeped out of the corner of its beak.
Even so, he didn't stop hitting it, looking like a crazed person who had lost his senses. Just as he was about to smack the Condor with the wooden branch, a hand held onto his wrist, stopping him.
"Cristopher, stop!" Thirteen ordered. "It's already dead!"
"D-Dead?" Cristopher said hoarsely.
"Yes, you killed it," Thirteen replied. "But we still have to deal with the other monsters. Hurry, use this spear and aim for that Troll. Just throw it in its direction, but make sure that you hit it."
Cristopher panted for breath, while his heart beat wildly inside his chest. He was still in his fight or flight mode, and his adrenaline was pumping inside his body, giving him strength to move.
"Don't go near it," Thirteen warned. "Although it is on its last legs, it's a very unpredictable opponent. Your spear doesn't need to kill it, all you need to do is hit it. Anywhere will do!"
After understanding what his Temporary Young Master was saying, Cristopher raised his spear and approached the Troll warily.
Blood was gushing out of its neck, but the latter was pressing its hand on it as if doing its best to stop its bleeding.
The wooden club lay several meters away from it, but it was unable to reclaim it because one of its legs was broken.
Cristopher then threw the spear towards the troll, but the latter deflected it with his hand.
"Young Master, I'm sorry," Cristopher said as he looked in Thirteen's direction.
"It's fine, now use this." Thirteen handed him a handful of stones and pointed at the troll. "Just hit him. Anywhere will do."
The chubby boy threw the stones one by one, and the troll deflected most of them. Even so, he still managed to land a clean hit on its head, and shoulder.
The stones didn't do much damage to the Trollm Most of them merely bounced off its body. But, that was enough.
That was all that Thirteen wanted to happen.
"Now, let's deal with the last Condor," Thirteen stated as he pointed at the Condor in the distance, who was trying to drag its body away from the battlefield.
One of its wings was broken, so it was unable to fly in the sky.
The Troll managed to land a good hit on it, rendering it helpless, but it could still threaten the two teenagers if they fought it in close combat.
But just as Thirteen and Cristopher were about to attack it, the chubby boy suddenly stopped and grabbed the younger boy's hand.
"Young Master, I got it," Cristopher said hoarsely. "I got it!"
"Got what?" Thirteen asked in confusion. "We need to hurry and attack that Condor before it can get away."
But before Thirteen could pry his hand away from the chubby boy's grip, Cristopher pointed at the ground in front of him.
Suddenly, a monster appeared, holding a wooden club in its hand.
It was none other than the Troll that was bleeding to death earlier, making Thirteen stop in his tracks.
"Avatar," Thirteen muttered.
"Kill that Condor!" Cristopher ordered hoarsely, and the Troll Avatar obeyed his command.
With a roar filled with anger, the Troll charged at the Condor with its weapon raised high.
Some experts believed that when an Avatar is formed, it would still retain the memories of its life before it died.
It also retained all of its skills and abilities when it was still alive.
Thirteen had noticed that the Troll was quite different from the other Trolls. Even though he had been alone, it was still able to fight against three Condors, even killing one of them before it suffered grievous injuries.
In short, the Troll was already dying from the deep cut on its neck.
The reason why he had asked Cristopher to attack the dying Troll was to give him the "last hit" mechanic that the Law of Solterra followed.
Only the one who dealt the killing blow would gain the rewards of the kill.
Although this was an unfair mechanic, which was abused to the fullest in Solterra, it was the law that everyone followed.
It didn't matter even if you worked hard to lower the health of the Monster until it was about to die.
Others could steal your kill, and the only thing you could do when that happened was cry.
Since Cristopher was the last one that dealt damage to the Troll, it didn't really matter if it bled to death afterward.
The one who had landed the last blow was Cristopher, so any rewards would directly go to him.
Getting an Avatar by killing a monster was a one-in-a-
thousand chance.
So, although the percentage was very low, an Avatar could still be gained if you were lucky enough, or if the New Generation God, RNGesus, loved you enough.
Seeing that it had no choice but to fight, the Condor screeched and used its sharp beak to peck the approaching Troll.
But, its opponent was well-versed in fighting on solid ground, so it dodged the Condor's attack before smashing the flying monster's head with the club in its hand.
A loud cracking sound reverberated in the quiet night as the Condor's skull broke due to the force of the Troll's attack.
The Condor let out one last dying screech before its body fell on the ground, dead.
The Troll then raised its club high up in the air and shouted a war cry of victory.
Thirteen glanced in the location where the Troll's body was located earlier and didn't find it anywhere.
Only the blood stains on the ground remained, which proved that it was still there a minute ago before transforming into an Avatar, entering Cristopher's Personal spatial storage.
It was where all the item drops from Monsters went after a Wanderer succeeded in killing it.
The only thing that couldn't be stored in there were the Monster Cores, which should be stored in a separate container or storage ring.
"It's finally over," Cristopher slumped on the ground and panted for breath.
Beads of sweat were streaking down the sides of his face, despite the coldness of the night.
This was his first battle, and he would live to tell his tale if he ever found his way back to Pangea, where his sick mother must be waiting for his return.
