The Santu Sakai pulled back a little, spreading out. The big one, watching from the back, paying attention. Unconsciously, or perhaps consciously, it had moved outside the range of his aura that still leaked into his other opponents. It was slowing them down, a little. But the fight had barely gone on for a minute by now, if that.
Time was a strange mistress in combat, prone to exaggeration and fast to make it seem larger, longer than it was during the act. Only for you to come to your senses, afterwards, battered and bruised and a little sore and realise; no - it hadn't been that big, hadn't been that long. It was all, just... tricks.
A barking noise, closer to a dog or a hyena than a wolf that this creature resembled. Or at least, what Arthur imagined a wolf to look like. Not as though they were native to Malaysia. Zoo Negara, though it had resurrected its infamous jingle with KFC, had yet to draw him in. Something about how far away it was and the sheer expense along with his need to keep himself fed and trained.
The bark was a signal, an indicator for the monsters at the back to attack. Or get ready. Hard to say, but they did use pack tactics. Two at the front, moving around the dying body of their friend, claws waving as they attempted to distract him.
He caught the second as it feinted, tore up its arm with his spear. Then, without even looking back, knowing they were coming, he leapt upwards. Calisthenics and training and the Tower upgrades meant he could easily clear over six feet, putting him well above the creatures that were coming from the stairs behind, clawed feet tearing up moss and dirt as they lunged.
He spun his spear around, thrust downwards. Caught one of the creatures on the upper shoulder, just beneath the collarbone. For a moment, he wobbled in mid-air, pushed a little higher with the impact and forces before gravity asserted itself.
Not before he saw the first feinter in front bunch up its leg, getting ready to leap at him.
Everything happening so fast, all in seconds.
A cloud, formed under his feet as he pushed away and backwards. Throwing himself into the air and higher, his spear pulling out as the Santu Sakai leapt to where he should have been if gravity had taken him. But he was still in the air, his spear licking up to smash into body, sending him spiraling down.
Another cloud, briefly formed beneath his feet and exploding let him stabilize and hop backwards, allowed him to push down and away from the steps. Over twenty feet of steps cleared as he flew backwards. Rather ridiculous if you considered it, but Arthur was more focused on landing properly and getting his guard up.
By the time he was set, the couple of creatures were on him again. Damn Santu Sakai were dangerous, fast and smart and reacted well. No longer were they trying for the encirclement and kill, but more careful attacks. Pushing him and his spear to the maximum, forcing him to keep it moving.
Wounds accumulated, on both sides. As good as he was, as much an advantage the spear and his armor gave him, there was only so much he could do. Especially when a lucky grab and yank stripped his weapon from him, leaving him to desperately scramble, punch and kick his way out the scrum and roll away, his kris in hand.
On and on, he cut and bled them, his Yin Aura poisoning the others, slowing them down. Attacks grew sloppy, missing him by inches and then feet. Charges grew uncoordinated, openings wider as he slipped his blade in, cutting again and again.
Until, at last, they were down, crawling forwards.
And all there was, was the alpha.
Hanging back, grinning widely. Knife fangs dripping.
Groaning, bleeding, Arthur set himself and took its charge.
***
Hot breath washed over him, blood dripping down as he felt his arm creak and bend and crack, blood dripping out of the creature’s mouth as it tossed head and body around, trying to get Arthur’s arm away. Lets wrapped around body, other hand shifting as it pressed the kris into the chest, searching, searching, searching.
A different feel, something a little firmer and harder than the flesh and empty space around lungs as the blade finally found the heart. He pulled back a little, plunged it back in on the same line, felt it tear right in. Felt the monster shudder, twitch, the blade in his hand shaking and twitching as the heart continued to beat, tearing itself apart on the blade.
One last gasp, the mouth squeezing tight, pushing sharpened teeth into his arm. Then, finally, the creature collapsed and only a last minute shift of balance on Arthur’s side had it falling backwards rather than on top of him. He tucked his legs out of the body with a wrench, all kinds of bruised after having them crash into the jagged edges of the stairs.
Pulling himself free, wincing as he was forced to pry open the mouth and free his arm.
Only to find himself having to deal with the remainder of the ruins monsters that had been drawn into the battle. Buried under furry bodies, rats the size of his hand scrambling over him, tearing and biting. A snake, slithering along the ground, wrapping around his leg. A ferret like creature, tearing into him with its larger than normal claws. A flock of tiny birds that blazed and burnt as they landed and some damn lizard that was eating the rats as much as it was tearing into him.
So many, that he fought and tore off. Adding to his wounds, but most not able to get through his armor, just adding tiny injuries to him. Just enough to hurt him, to make it hard. Until, eventually, he was done, the pulsing Yin Aura he had never let go taking the toll on the smaller monsters.
Leaving him to lie there, panting, exhausted. Blood streaming from dozens of minor wounds and his arm, waiting for everything to clot and for him to get enough energy to pull out some stones.
"Closer than I'd like, but at least I'm not on a pike."
Silly rhymes. Always as a way to distract himself, to help him calm down. A distraction, from the pain, from the knowledge that this had been a lot closer than he had expected. Funnily enough, he wasn't that injured, not like the last fight or his collapse. What had been dangerous was how easy it could have been a problem. If he had tripped at the wrong time, slipped on the stairs, let them surround him. If he had been crippled, or the alpha had joined the fight earlier rather than waiting until all his people had died.
Small things, big things; like walking on a high wire. Always so close to falling, but so long as you didn't fall, you were fine.
Realisation, slowly creeping in that this was his life now. That all his fights for the next while might be like this. So long as he did everything right, he was fine. But the moment he slipped, the moment he made a mistake, he might not get a chance to get back up.
Just like missing the trapped footsteps of the babi ngepit boss. Except more fatal.
What would have happened, if he had bene thrown into the cliff face. Knocked his head around? Knocked unconscious?
There was a persistent belief that so long as you got strong enough, smart enough, tough enough you would survive. That the good made their way through wars or scuffles, with barely a scratch. A lie told by movies and stories, over and over again. The reality was, luck played such a massive part.
The survivors weren't just the good or the best. They were also the luckiest.
Good thing he had always been the lucky sort.