Chapter 13: Elfinclaw
Tom couldnt afford to fail.
He silently withdrew [Earths Vitality] and [Water Propulsion] from his pockets, palming and stacking them behind [The Flame] card. If he focused on just [The Flame] card, it should go off as intended, but Tom wasnt quite sure if he had the dexterity to switch around cards with just one palm. If his plan went according to the script though, that wouldnt be a problem.
His dagger still in his right, Tom continued to walk towards the trees root, in line with his previous strategy of moving from tree to tree.
His expression seemed calm on the exterior, but he kept peeking behind him in an attempt to get another lock on his target. The reason why he didnt suspect that the beast would flank him was because it had no reason to from its perspective, Tom was just an unwitting fool unaware of the silent assassins presence.
Seconds passed, and soon only a meter separated Tom from the gnarled roots. He continued to walk at the same pace, as if he was oblivious to their presence.
Tom tripped.
Or, more accurately, he feigned tripping. His right foot collided against the gnarled roots base, twisting it at an awkward angle before he went careening forward onto the ground. He landed sidewards, at an angle, which allowed him to glimpse backwards without looking suspicious.
The [Ankra Bone Dagger] flew out of his hands, landing barely half a meter away from him, hidden inside the tall grass.
The next part was going to hurt.
Tom bit down on his tongue, not enough to completely lop it off, but enough to cut deeply. The salty, metallic tang of warm blood flowed through his mouth, and the next moment Tom let out an agonzing, pained scream that simply could not be faked.
Heavily panting, Tom hurriedly placed the [Earths Vitality] card on the ground, arming himself with both [The Flame] and the [Water Propulsion] card in each hand.
His eyes flickering backward, Tom traced his path, expecting, hoping, to see the [Elfinclaw].
Cmon you intelligent, cocky bastard. Your prey finally made a mistake. Or maybe he was wounded from the start, and his legs finally gave in.
A shadowy figure became visible at the periphery of his vision. It slowly approached, causing Tom to tighten his grip on his cards and then. Stopped.
Fuck. Cautious Bastard!
Tom didnt let the panic get to him though, for he had one more card to play. The blood that had pooled in his mouth he began to cough it out. Specks of red blood spilled out of his mouth, spraying all over the grass. He was sick. Internally injured. Whatever.. It didnt matter. Surely the beast didnt expect him to fake an internal injury just to lure it in.
Toms breathing tightened.
Another shot.
The one-eyed [Elfinclaw] dodged again, throwing itself to the left. It began to zig-zag as it approached him, its eyes filled with a desire for destruction and vengeance. It seemed like the beast had enough intelligence to understand the concept of an ego, for it wished to kill Tom with everything he had.
The [Water Propulsion] card had served its purpose, so he allowed it to fall to the floor. Taking a step back, Tom retrieved the dagger hed left on the ground, tracking the rapidly approaching beast with his eyes.
It was dying.
Tom could do this.
The moment it stepped within the five meter mark, Tom unleashed [The Flame] card again.
But hed underestimated the [Elfinclaws] determination, as it pivoted to the right at the last second.
The [Elfinclaw] seemed like a blur as it pounced again. The next thing Tom knew, he felt a searing pain tearing into his right arm, the one that held [The Flame] card.
The card slipped out of his grasp, and the next second both Tom and the [Elfinclaw] were tumbling onto the ground.
Within seconds, he would lose his arm.
DIE! Tom screamed, instinct taking over as the [Ankra Bone Dagger] in his left hand sunk into the beasts abdomen.
A second later, Tom realized that his dagger wasnt sharp enough to pierce through the creatures tightly strung flesh.
Before he knew it, he had yanked out the dagger and applied another burst of strength to stab again.
Even as he hit the ground, Tom continued to stab the [Elfinclaw] with a mechanical fervor, his mind consumed by the single minded obsession for survival.
He pulled back his dagger, the pain in his arm intensifying, and stabbed again. This time, the mark was far softer, more fleshy, as the dagger penetrated through and through.
The pressure grinding away at his arm vanished.
The dagger slipped away from his grasp, embedded in the [Elfinclaws] carcass.
The monster had been vanquished.