Creak… creak…

  Alright. Breathe in, breathe out. That could have gone much worse… Glenn thought as he hung dangerously above the ground, his body swaying as he struggled to hold the buckling wood.

  Heaving silently, he extended a foot towards the nearest branch. He sighed in relief, having steadied himself once again.

  Glenn wiped the sweat off his forehead.

  I have no idea of how I managed to pull that off. Survival instincts, perhaps?

  He glanced a few meters down, failing to see anything capable of capturing a huge ass wolf. It could just be lingering in the darkness, waiting for prey to drop.

  Creak…

  That’s quite the predicament, isn’t it? Glenn thought sarcastically before dropping.

  He would’ve landed graciously if it wasn’t for a nasty, slippery rock that found its way under his foot. He grumbled as he pushed himself up, freezing when his hand touched something strange—something stiff yet soft. Like a pelt…

  Glenn slowly turned his head, paling as he discovered the remains of the wolf’s bleeding ear. The gnawed tip made him recall an important fact: no, he wasn’t safe right now. He recoiled from the severed organ and stood. His clothes stuck to his skin with either blood or sweat; it was more or less the same by that point.

  Stealthily, Glenn stepped. His heartbeat accelerated with each passing second. The more steps he took, the faster he moved. Soon enough, he was running.

  His sword bounced on his back, forcing him to tighten the belt.

  Thump!

  Suddenly, he heard the dull noise along with breaking branches and ruffled leaves. As if something large had landed nearby.

  Glenn gulped and hurried away. Beads of sweat pearled down his forehead, but he didn’t care. With any luck, it was a territorial monster that would give up once he arrived at the base of the mountain. Hopefully. He couldn’t see himself fighting a damn wolf, let alone something that snatched up an apex beast as a snack.

  “Shit, shit, shit!” Glenn cursed repeatedly as he jumped over roots and ducked under branches.

  The tall trees draped over him, shrouding him in darkness. The crimson moonlight clothed the forest under a bloody veil, in a manner that was both ominous and beautiful.

  Thick vegetation oppressed him, as if nature itself tried to prevent his escape—catch him in a trap for that horrible predator to feast on.

  Glenn huffed and puffed, struggling to breathe. His poor stamina wasn’t doing him any favors, but he kept running. Stopping would mean dying. Probably. He’d rather not risk it.

  “Where’s the… damn… mountain?” he muttered desperately as he threw a terrified glance backwards.

  Branches snapped, and the rustling in the brush only grew louder. All the while, the distance between Glenn and the high ground hadn’t decreased. He knew he was traveling in the right direction, but how long until he reached his destination?

  He hid behind a tree and took a deep, ragged breath. Leaning on his knees, he realized the muddy soil was becoming much rockier.

  Glenn’s eyes lit up; he wasn’t running in circles. He couldn’t confirm it, but he had to believe he was getting closer to the mountain. That realization pumped hope into his heart, and he darted forwards, ignoring his burning lungs.

  Breathing was overrated anyway.

  He dove into a bush, gritting his teeth as the thorns and the branches scratched his face and ripped his clothes. A snake-like hiss echoed behind him, making him accelerate to a speed he never knew possible.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck— Glenn’s desperate thoughts were interrupted when he failed to notice a massive root protruding out of the ground.

  His foot tangled in the fibers, and Glenn flew headfirst. His body bounced off a few stumps and trees like a pinball before finally stopping.

  He was about to curse the evil root’s whole lineage when his eyes caught a red flash shooting right where he had previously stood. He grunted painfully and pushed himself up.

  Holy shit. Holy Root, thank you! I swear I’ll build a shrine in your, uh, name… Glenn quickly thanked his savior, his eyes widening as the red lightning flashed again, landing at his feet.

  It planted in the stone and missed Glenn’s ankle by a few centimeters. Glenn paled and jumped back, struggling to pull his sword out of his sheath.

  Fuck! Of course it looks way easier in the damn game, he cursed, watching what looked like a rotten tongue retract. It smelled of putrid meat, but he doubted ‘eau de pourriture’ was its fragrance of choice.

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  He finally unsheathed his blade and clenched it firmly. Fleeing was no longer an option—that much was clear. He had to fight. But how could he? Before tonight, he never held a weapon in his hands!

  A rumbling sound intensified through the trees. Glenn gulped, holding his sword dead straight.

  He could approximate where the fiend was coming from thanks to the many branches it broke along the way. Whatever it was, it was huge. Glenn did his best not to faint, his wobbly legs threatening to collapse at any moment.

  His throat was dry, and he was a hair away from puking again in fear. Luckily for him, his bladder was empty, saving him the embarrassment of dying soiled in his own piss.

  It’s kill or die, he thought as he drew a deep breath, forcing his hands to stop shaking. I already killed that ghoul on the battlefield. Another larger one is no problem!

  He tried to calm himself, but his face paled chalk white. A tree collapsed, and the bushes opened, revealing the hunter.

  It wore a black, unusually large clergy robe and hunched over as it approached. The creature was the size of a compact car, and each step shook its surroundings. Glenn peeked under the habit. But he noticed no recognizable body parts or anything remotely similar to a face. Only shifting darkness that fueled his fear as the monster walked with agonizingly slow movements.

  Its garments billowed. Something squirmed under the dark fabric like a massive worm. The scarlet moonlight shone brightly for a second, letting Glenn see a black, oozing tentacle.

  His heart stopped as the monster muttered in a raspy, inhuman voice. The closer it got to Glenn, the louder it spoke. At first, he couldn’t recognize the phrases, but the more he listened to it, the more he deciphered bits and pieces.

  It wasn’t English, nor any language from Earth he had ever heard. And yet, strangely, he could still understand it. The foreign words magically translated into his mind. Glenn wasn’t going to complain; it sure was convenient, after all.

  “Ilif im… My son… I… Ettimrep em… Let me… Let me…! Ni enimon suie… In His name…” the being hissed, and a scrawny arm extended out of its clergy robe.

  Glenn stepped back, his lips sealed. He gulped with difficulty and strengthened his grip on the hilt.

  Wanting to do something—anything—was futile while frozen in fear. Be it fleeing, attacking, or even screaming, his body betrayed him.

  As the fiend spat more nonsense, Glenn realized he would have actually preferred not to understand its language. Because now, it was clear that this horrid creature was once human, or something close.

  Glenn finally gazed upon what lurked beneath the robe. It was an abomination that, for his sanity, should have remained hidden.

  The shifting darkness was a mass of black tentacles, each moving by their own volition. Short and long feelers swayed lazily, oozing with a purple substance. Barely concealed under the appendages was deformed skin riddled with scars and holes, revealing bones and rotten flesh.

  Noticing Glenn’s horrified gaze, the monster suddenly stopped and stood on two skeletal legs. Thousands of worms ate through the little tissue that remained.

  The creature opened three arms wide, as if to hug him—each covered in that disgusting, dark ooze. Each arm bore two hands with far more than six fingers. The creature’s belly had a massive mouth gaping in a most illogical placement. Tentacles acted as the beard for said mouth. It salivated at the sight of Glenn.

  “My son… Maediv et suiporp… Let me see… See you closer… Oge, retap… I, Father Albenas… I, I must…” the figure spoke, raising its arms towards the sky.

  Father Albenas continued its slow yet pressuring advance. For each of the being’s steps, Glenn took two back. In his retreat, his heels touched something. A thick oak blocked his way out, towering over him.

  There was no escape.

  It suddenly stopped and fell on all fours, blowing the dust and leaves away with a small gust. Then it waited silently for a few seconds, unmoving and unbreathing. The silence suffocated Glenn.

  Finally, it spoke with a raspy but lucid voice.

  “I… shall give thou, my son, His blessing! Come, so that thou… can be freed too!”

  As soon as Father Albenas finished speaking, its rotten tongue flashed from its belly and wrapped around Glenn’s waist. Glenn screamed, cursing every god he knew. He violently expelled the air from his lungs as the appendage tightly clenched his chest, squeezing and burning his skin.

  With his arms restrained, he held his sword pointed at the creature. Glenn had to do something, but it was too late.

  In an instant, Glenn flew into Father Albenas’ tentacles. A mix of sulfur and blood assaulted his nose, making him retch.

  Glenn closed his eyes, refusing to watch the painful, horrible death that was sure to come. But his desire to live was stronger than his fear. And in a last, desperate attempt, he stabbed forwards with all his might.

  His blade dug through the fiend’s skin like a hot knife through butter, but Glenn knew it wasn’t enough. For such a terrifying monster, that injury was probably a mosquito bite.

  Yet, one second…

  Two seconds…

  Nothing happened. Nothing that spelled death anyway. The area where the tongue grabbed him hurt like hell, but what was pain if not proof of life? He was still restrained, but the creature’s ragged breathing had gone silent. It wasn’t moving either.

  Glenn hesitantly opened an eye, then another. He flinched when he saw the massive maw filled with sharp, shark-rotten teeth. Glenn tensed, expecting the mouth to chomp down on him, but it remained still.

  Still terrified, Glenn nudged the creature, only to discover that his last, desperate measure had been successful.

  His sword had stabbed deeply into the being’s disgusting belly. Purple, sticky blood gushed out of the wound like a macabre fountain.

  The fiend’s jaw suddenly clenched, the sharp teeth closing menacingly. Glenn yelped and hurriedly used his hilt like a lever to push the creature back. Father Albenas’ body fell, bringing Glenn with it.

  A short moment passed, but the corpse didn’t move. Glenn blinked, unable to contain nervous laughter as he realized what had just happened.

  Thanks to a mix of luck, skill, and circumstances, Glenn’s blade perfectly pierced through the monster’s vital point, killing it in a single stab.

  Somehow, Glenn defeated that monstrous beast, Father Albenas.