Isekai Terry TOD: Chapter 19 – Doing It Anyway (Patreon)

As Terry looked at the damn foliasaur menacing the chicken-lizard, all he could think about was how bullshit it was in books when heroes just shrugged off being thrown into walls or taking crushing blows. That shit fucking hurt. A lot. If he hadn’t spent the last several days fighting increasingly powerful and violent monsters, he doubted he could have even coped with the level of pain he was in now. But he firmly believed that kind of acclimation had its limits. A body could only take so much. A mind could only take so much, unless there was some mechanism in place in this shithole world that fundamentally altered how minds and bodies processed trauma. A notion that seemed less ridiculous when he thought about the other-knowledge in his head. Even if that was the case, though, it didn’t make it hurt any less to get up. It didn’t make it any less frightening to think about drawing the foliasaur’s attention.

Sure, it had been fine when all he had to do was lay there, be in pain, and wait for death. He was sure it would have been horrible, but probably not for too long. That thing didn’t look like the sort of beast to play with its food. Letting things take their course felt different to him. He wasn’t an active participant, just a victim of nature gone wrong. Getting the monster to pay attention to him on purpose felt a lot like participating, and there was no participation trophy in this event… just a grisly death. Still, he had gone through all the trouble to stand up and retrieve his sword. He might as well go out swinging. In his head, that sounded slightly less like killing himself. He thought it was probably a semantic difference. But if you couldn’t embrace semantics while facing down an angry plant dinosaur monster in Chinese Period Drama Hell, when could you?

I guess this is when I gird my loins, thought Terry. He didn’t actually do anything. It was just one of those phrases he’d read somewhere and thought he’d never get a chance to use in real life. Best to take the opportunity while he had it. A little part of Terry was annoyed that there wasn’t a princess or something around to witness his heroic deed of sacrificing himself for the sake of a… Yeah, on the second thought, I’m glad no one will see this. I’m going to look like a fool for getting myself killed to protect a chicken-lizard. The stupid thing probably has a curse on it to boot. Shaking his head, he took a deep breath and shouted.

“Hey! I’m not done with you, yet! You overgrown spider plant!”

Terry abruptly realized he didn’t know what a spider plant looked like. He’d never seen one to his knowledge. It was just the only plant name he could remember. Oh, there’s rhododendron, he thought. No, that’s too hard to shout. The foliasaur turned its head so it could glare at him with one of its glowing purple eyes. Yup, thought Terry. That just keeps being creepy. He expected the monster to immediately rush at him. That’s what monsters did… except for this one, apparently. It turned its attention back to the chicken-lizard. Terry was left staring at the back of its head with his mouth hanging open. He didn’t have a plan for this. The only thing he could think was that it didn’t see him as a real threat anymore. And why should it? The damn thing all but took me out of the fight with one hit from its tail. I didn’t exactly come off as a superhero there.

Being so casually dismissed hurt Terry’s pride for a second or two, but then sanity slapped down that stupid machismo nonsense. This is a good thing, he realized. It’s not paying attention to me now. If the big, dumb plant monster wanted to ignore him, Terry was perfectly happy to use that opportunity to ambush the creature and deal another serious blow. He supposed that there was probably some of rule of honor that said he shouldn’t do that. As far as he was concerned, though, what happened to monsters in the forest, stayed in the forest. Like Vegas, only with supernatural horrors… well, more supernatural horrors. He’d seen advertisements for some of those Vegas shows and assumed that the Devil was involved somewhere.

After making sure that the foliasaur still wasn’t paying attention to him, Terry tried to come up with a plan. He didn’t think he had the horsepower to one-shot the thing. That would probably take a serious head wound or cutting the thing in half. If I can’t just straight-up kill it, what’s the next best thing? He carefully studied the monster and noticed that it was still leaking from the injury he’d inflicted on one of its legs. He hesitated to call it bleeding. What was coming out of that wound was more like a thin sap than blood. All other things being equal, injuring the other leg looked like the best option. If he could pull that off, he wouldn’t need to kill the thing. He and the chicken-lizard could just run away like smart cowards.

There was an abrupt sense of outrage from other-Terry at the idea of running away, although regular-Terry got the impression that it was more about leaving a live enemy behind him than the actual running away part. There was a kind of logic to it. If the monster was injured enough that it couldn’t chase them, then it was probably injured enough that it could be killed. Dead monsters couldn’t come and kill you in the night after they healed up. Even so, regular-Terry was firmly in the camp of people who believed that retreat was always a valid strategy. Putting aside the morality of cowardice for the moment, he started to walk toward the foliasaur. He didn’t run. He worried that might draw the thing’s attention. He felt a shiver run down his spine when he came alongside the tail. He knew exactly how hard that thing could hit him. It wasn’t something he wanted to experience again.

He was a little surprised that it hadn’t attacked the chicken-lizard yet. He supposed it couldn’t just lunge in the way it usually would. It probably didn’t have a strong Plan B in its arsenal. All the better for me, thought Terry as he crept up on the monster’s unwounded leg. He didn’t let himself hesitate or get distracted by the rotting vegetation stink that rolled of the monster. He took careful aim, summoned as much warmth as he could from that core thingy, and swung at the leg. The blade bit deep and the foliasaur let out another one of those warbling roars that made Terry’s skin crawl. Having learned his lesson the last time, he pulled the sword free, and spun toward the tail he assumed was swinging for him. It wasn’t. Oh no, thought Terry. He managed to get himself turned around enough to see the last second or two of an open maw racing toward him.

Terry’s entire universe exploded in agony as the massive thorns that served as the foliasaur’s teeth punched into him. There was no past, or future, just the excruciating now, and a terrible sense that things were broken inside of him that should not be broken. He was dimly aware that the monster shook him, like a dog shaking something it had caught, and more things broke and tore inside of him. Terry tried to scream, but all that happened was a gurgle that sprayed blood out of his mouth. He couldn’t think or move. All he could do was hurt. There was a sense of resignation from other-Terry. Oddly, that did what regular-Terry couldn’t do on his own. It made him mad. The anger didn’t clear his head, not exactly, but it gave him something to focus on other than pain and his looming demise. He didn’t think he could survive this, but he wanted to take the plant dinosaur with him if he could.

Terry forced himself to push away the pain enough to get a sense of his own broken body. One of his arms was still free. There was a still a sword in it. He made himself open his eyes. Less than a foot away was the glowing purple moss that served as the foliasaur’s eye. I guess I’ll never get a better chance than this. Maybe it was simply because he didn’t have the mental energy to second-guess himself, but Terry just acted. It wouldn’t have been possible if he was still in his old body. There was so much damage he doubted he could have made any of his old limbs move, but this new body was made of better stuff. He drew back his arm and plunged the sword right into that eye. He kept pushing and pushing. He tried to scream and just managed to spray blood over the foliasaur’s face. There was a moment when the sword seemed to meet some resistance, followed by an audible pop. The jaws clamped down on him one last time, and then a crushing pressure he’d barely registered went away.

Everything after that became patchy. Terry thought he fell, but he didn’t recall hitting the ground. The chicken-lizard might have squawk-roared, but it might have just been his imagination playing tricks on him. As the pain started to fade away into the background, Terry realized that he must be getting ready to die. There was no brightly lit tunnel with family waiting to greet him. No heavenly gates opened to greet him. There wasn’t even a river to carry him to one afterlife or another. As the last bits of consciousness left him, Terry had one last thought. Man, fucking Chinese Period Drama Hell was bullshit right to the end.