The axe felt good in my hand. Heavy. The weight was centered just behind the bearded blade, a brutal, forward-leaning design that practically begged to be swung. It was an Orcish weapon, according to Kale's freaky mental encyclopedia, and it felt like it. Nothing elegant about it. Just a tool for cleaving meat and bone. After days of relying on a sharpened stick, the solid, unforgiving heft of it was a profound comfort.
I followed Kale as we moved downstream, the new axe in my right hand, one of the Rogue's daggers in my left, held in a reverse grip. The rhythm was familiar, but the dynamic had changed. Before, I was the leader, the expert in this green hell. He was the asset, the walking encyclopedia I had to protect. Now… now I wasn't so sure what he was.
My mind kept replaying the fight. Not the chaotic scrum with the goblins. The execution at the cave. I'd seen death. I'd dealt it. But I'd never seen anything like what Kale did to that Rogue, Shiv. The cold precision of it. The way he'd lunged under the man's guard and punched a rusty cleaver through his eye socket. There was no hesitation, no flicker of doubt. It wasn't the act of a desperate survivor. It was the work of a predator that had identified a target and moved to neutralize it with absolute efficiency.
Then he'd turned that same chilling focus on the Berserker, grinding the blade into his throat, staring into his eyes as he died. A part of me, the part that had survived three days alone, respected it. It was a necessary brutality. But another part, the part that still remembered what it was to be human, was terrified.
The weird thing was, the terror was… muted. It was a thought, an intellectual observation—this man is dangerous—but it didn't have the sharp, gut-twisting edge of true fear. My instincts, which had screamed at me to be wary of him from the moment we met, were now quiet. When I looked at him, my gut didn't see a threat. It saw an ally. It was a strange, unsettling disconnect between my head and my instincts, and I didn't like it. It felt like a wire had been crossed in my brain when I wasn't looking.
Kale moved ahead of me, his new goblin-hide loincloth and harness looking utterly ridiculous on his lanky frame. He was still clumsy in the woods, his steps heavier than mine, but there was a new confidence in his stride. The power he'd gained had changed him. He wasn't just a thinker anymore. He was a weapon, just a different kind than me.
"Tracks," I said, my voice low. I pointed with the dagger.
The ground here was soft, muddy from the river's overflow. The drag marks from the bodies we'd thrown in were already fading, but beside them were other prints. These were new. They were large, reptilian, three-toed tracks with a heavy drag mark between them, as if a thick tail was scraping the mud. They led from the water's edge, into the undergrowth, and then back to the water about twenty yards further down.
Kale knelt, his eyes narrowed in concentration. He didn't need to touch the tracks. He just stared, his mind doing its strange, invisible work.
[Analysis Skill Activated: Target - Track Signature]
[Classification: Fauna, Predator, Amphibious]
[Species: River Lurker (Juvenile)]
[Attributes (Est): STR 12, DEX 10, VIT 14]
[Notes: Crocodilian hunter. Armored hide provides high physical resistance. Prefers to ambush prey from the water, dragging it under to drown. Juvenile specimens are approximately 8-10 feet long.]
Kale relayed the information to me in a clipped, quiet whisper. "River Lurker. Think a crocodile, but faster and tougher. High physical resistance. This one's a juvenile, maybe ten feet."
Ten feet of armored predator. Great. "And its weakness?" I asked, my eyes scanning the water's surface, looking for any ripple that was out of place.
"Analysis didn't say. That's a different skill." He looked at me, a flicker of something in his eyes—not fear, but the thrill of the problem. "We need to draw it out to find one."
"Or we could just leave it alone," I muttered, but I knew we couldn't. This thing's hunting ground was right on our doorstep. We needed this river for water, for fishing. Leaving a monster like this here was just inviting it to dinner later. Our dinner. With us as the main course.
"It's a food source," Kale stated, ever the pragmatist. "And a source of durable hide. We kill it, we eat for a week and Maria has something to work with for armor."
He was right. Damn him, he was always right.
"Alright, Scholar. How do you want to play this?" I asked, shifting the axe in my grip.
"It ambushes from the water. So we give it bait." He looked at me. "That's you."
I just stared at him. "Me?"
"You're faster. You can get away. I'll be positioned on that rock ledge up there." He pointed to a mossy outcrop that overlooked this stretch of the river. "The moment it reveals itself, I'll use 'Analyze Weakness'. I'll find its flaw. Then it's just a matter of you exploiting it."
It was a good plan. A logical plan. It also involved me dangling my ass in front of a ten-foot-long river monster. But my gut wasn't screaming that he was trying to get me killed. It was telling me he had the angles figured out. Ally. The word echoed faintly in the back of my mind.
"Fine," I said, my voice tight. "But if I get eaten, I'm blaming you."
I moved to the water's edge, my senses on fire. I could smell the damp rot of the riverbank, hear the buzz of insects, feel the humidity thick on my skin. I held the axe loosely, ready to swing, the dagger firm in my off-hand for a close-in surprise. I took a deliberate, heavy step, splashing the water. I made myself look like an easy meal—a lone creature, distracted, getting a drink.
The river was a sheet of murky, brown glass. For a long, tense minute, nothing happened. The forest was unnervingly quiet. Then, I saw it. Not a ripple. Not a sound. Just a subtle change in the water's texture about fifteen feet out. A patch of water that was slightly… thicker. Darker.
It exploded from the river.
It wasn't a crocodile. It was worse. Its body was long and low-slung like a gator's, but its hide wasn't green or brown. It was a mottled grey-black, the color of wet stone, and it wasn't made of scales, but of overlapping, bony plates. Its head was narrower, more vicious, and its jaw was lined with teeth like shards of obsidian. Four malevolent, yellow eyes blinked open simultaneously, pinning me with a look of pure, predatory hunger.
The sheer speed of it was terrifying. It launched itself from the water, covering the distance to the bank in a single, fluid surge. Its maw gaped open, a wet, stinking cavern of death.
I didn't think. I reacted. My Ranger Vocation screamed at me, raw instinct and enhanced reflexes taking over. I didn't try to meet its charge. I threw myself to the side, rolling hard on the muddy ground as its jaws snapped shut on the air where my head had been. The sound was like a car door slamming shut.
I came up from the roll already in motion, the dagger in my left hand lashing out. The blade scraped across the bony plates on its flank with a screech of protesting metal, sending up a shower of sparks but failing to bite. The armor was even tougher than Kale's analysis had suggested.
The Lurker's thick tail whipped around in a devastating arc aimed at my legs. I leaped, clearing the tail by inches, and landed in a low crouch. It was fast, impossibly fast for its size.
"Kale! Anything?" I yelled, circling the creature, keeping it between me and the water.
"Working! Keep it distracted!" his voice echoed from the ledge above.
The Lurker turned, its four yellow eyes tracking me, its head low to the ground. It let out a low, guttural hiss, a sound that vibrated in my chest. Then it charged again.
This time, I was ready. I held my ground until the last possible second. As its jaws lunged for me, I sidestepped and swung the Orcish axe in a brutal, two-handed arc. I put all my strength behind it, aiming for the side of its head.
The impact was jarring, a shock that ran up my arms and into my shoulders. The axe blade bit into the bony plate protecting its skull with a sickening crunch. It wasn't a clean cut, but I'd cracked the armor.
[-28 HP!]
The creature shrieked, a high-pitched, reptilian sound of pain and rage. It thrashed its head, shaking off the blow, and I had to scramble back to avoid its snapping jaws. A small, dark crack had appeared in its head armor, oozing a thick, blackish fluid.
"Its armor is weaker on the underbelly! The plates are thinner there! And there's a gap in the plating behind its forelimbs!" Kale's voice was a lifeline of pure data. "Aim for the armpit!"
The armpit. Of course. A natural weak point in any armored creature. But getting there was the problem.
The Lurker was smarter than a simple beast. It knew I had hurt it. It wasn't just charging blindly now. It was moving more cautiously, keeping its wounded head away from me, its body low to the ground to protect its belly.
I feinted to the left, drawing its attention, then darted to the right. I was faster, more agile, but it was relentless. Its tail was a constant threat, forcing me to stay mobile, to keep my distance. I needed an opening.
That's when Kale made his move. A flicker of movement from the ledge caught the Lurker's eye. A small, shimmering, fist-sized ball of light suddenly appeared, hovering in the air just above the creature's head. It was unnatural, out of place. A simple 'Minor Illusion'.
The Lurker, its simple predator brain unable to process the magical anomaly, was distracted for a single, critical second. Its head tilted up, its four eyes fixated on the strange, glowing ball.
That was all I needed.
I surged forward, dropping low to the ground. I slid on the slick mud, my body passing directly under its snapping jaws. For a terrifying half-second, I was underneath the beast, the stench of swamp rot and raw meat overwhelming me. I could see the pale, softer skin of its underbelly, the place where the thick bony plates of its back gave way to a more vulnerable defense.
My target was a hand-sized patch of skin just behind its powerful front leg. The armpit.
I drove the dagger from my left hand upward with all my strength. The blade, designed for piercing, found the gap in the armor. It sank into the soft flesh up to the hilt.
[Critical Hit! Weak Point Exploited!]
[-155 HP!]
The Lurker screamed, a sound of pure, unadulterated agony that was nothing like its earlier shriek. It convulsed, its massive body lifting off the ground as every muscle seized. Its thrashing threw me clear, and I rolled away, scrambling to my feet, my heart hammering.
I had done it. I had landed a killing blow.
But it wasn't dead.
It staggered, its front leg collapsing, the dagger still buried in its side. Black blood poured from the wound, steaming on the muddy ground. It was mortally wounded, but its eyes, burning with a furious, dying hatred, were locked on me. With its last ounce of strength, it lunged, not with its jaws, but with its claws.
I tried to bring the axe around, but I was too slow, off-balance from my attack. The creature's razor-sharp talons raked across my chest.
The pain was a white-hot flash, stealing my breath. I was thrown backward, landing hard, the world spinning.
[-42 HP!]
[Status: Bleeding (Moderate)]
I looked down. Three deep, parallel gashes were torn across my chest and abdomen, welling up with blood. The pain was immense, but the shock was worse. I had miscalculated. I had gotten arrogant.
The Lurker stood over me, swaying on its feet, readying itself for one final, killing snap of its jaws. This was it. I was going to die.
"FEAR!"
Kale's voice wasn't a shout. It was a physical force, a wave of pure psychic energy that washed over the clearing. The Lurker, which had been focused entirely on me, suddenly froze. Its head snapped up, its four eyes wide with a primal, unnatural terror. It forgot me. It forgot its wound. Its mind, already reeling from pain and blood loss, was shattered by Kale's mental assault.
It did the only thing its terrified, dying brain could think of. It fled. It turned and scrambled blindly back towards the safety of the water.
It never made it. Mortally wounded and clumsy with fear, it tripped, its legs tangling beneath it. It crashed to the ground, landing on its side, its soft, pale underbelly completely exposed.
I was already moving, pushing through the searing pain in my chest. I scrambled to my feet, grabbing the Orcish axe. I stood over the downed, trembling creature. It looked up at me, its yellow eyes full of nothing but terror.
I raised the axe high over my head and brought it down with every ounce of strength I had left, burying the blade deep in the soft flesh of its belly. The beast shuddered one last time, a long, wet sigh escaping its jaws, and then went still.
Silence. The only sound was my own ragged breathing and the drip, drip, drip of my blood onto the muddy ground. I stood there, swaying, leaning on the axe for support, the world a blurry haze of pain.
Kale was there a moment later, sliding down the embankment. He rushed to my side, his face pale, his eyes wide with concern. "Elara! Sit down!"
He helped me to the ground, my back against a log. The Scholar, the manipulator, the cold-blooded killer, was gone. In his place was just Kale, his eyes full of a genuine, frantic worry that had nothing to do with protecting an asset.
He pulled out a wad of the Silverleaf we'd gathered and, without a word, began crushing it, his hands working quickly.
I watched him, my head swimming. He had saved my life. Not just with his analysis, but with his mind. He had reached into the brain of that monster and broken it.
My head said he was the most dangerous man I had ever met. My gut, for the first time, agreed. But it added a new, chilling thought to the equation.
He's the most dangerous man I've ever met… and he's on my side.
The disconnect was gone. My head and my gut were finally in perfect, terrifying alignment. And as he gently applied the healing poultice to my wounds, I realized our alliance wasn't just about survival anymore. It was about power. And we were just getting started.