Chapter 119 - In Pursuit of Power (Patreon)

Abby pressed her back against the wide trunk of the tree, praying that her stalker would leave off its pursuit. It was a vain hope, born of nothing but wishful thinking. Never was that more clear than when she heard it splash through the shallow stream that cut between them. Abby had hoped it would be enough to disguise her scent, but she hadn’t had time to use the running water to its fullest extent. As a result, she had only managed to get a little further than a dozen yards downstream before she found somewhere to hide. The monster was just too dogged in its pursuit for anything more elaborate.

Soon, it would find her scent. And then, her brief reprieve would be over. She knew that as well as she’d ever known anything in her life. Gnolls weren’t just great hunters; they were vindictive and territorial as well – the combination of which made any invasion into their claimed territory an ill-advised exercise in futility.

The day had begun so well, too. She had almost been optimistic about finding and completing the quest she’d heard about in Beacon. Never mind that she only had a general location and a vague mention of thunderbirds – to her hopeful mind, that didn’t matter. She would infiltrate the area, find the thunderbird, kill it, and collect her Framework reward. Then, she’d be able to hold her own amongst her groupmates. Then, she could pull her own weight, rather than ride Zeke’s or Talia’s coattails, as had so often been the case.

Disaster had struck the moment she’d crossed an unnamed river that marked the beginning of the gnolls’ territory. When she crawled onto the riverbank after having swum across, she was immediately assaulted by a trio of the bipedal canines. Despite the fact that they had a couple of levels on her, she still managed to kill one, wound another so severely that it couldn’t pursue her, and briefly escape the third. However, she hadn’t come out of it without wounds of her own; her forearm was a mangled mess where one of the gnolls had savaged her with its jaws, and she bore a puncture wound just below her ribs, where she’d been stabbed by its crude, flint-bladed spear.

But she had escaped their clutches, and now, she’d been running from the remaining monster for the past two hours. It wouldn’t have been so bad if she hadn’t been losing so much blood; it wasn’t enough to kill her, but more than enough to slow her down. The result was that the monster, injured though he was, had easily kept up with her pace through the mountain forest.

Though she didn’t like her chances, Abby knew she didn’t have much choice. Her arrows, even powered by her archery path and enhanced by her skill, [Gust of Wind], lacked stopping power. And the foes she fought now had only grown more durable and dangerous. The only reason she’d been able to defeat the pair of gnolls she had was due to her hatchet, which was powerful enough to override their defenses.

The reality was that her poorly made choices had begun to catch up to her, and she was quickly coming to the point where simply making do with ill-suited skills and abilities just wasn’t an option anymore. And she wasn’t Zeke, who could lean on his insane stats to power through any barrier. Nor was she Talia, who’d been gifted with skills that perfectly suited her role. Even Tucker, who wasn’t a real combatant, could outperform her in battle – a galling situation, indeed, and one that had driven her to her current, nigh-on suicidal mission.

But those were thoughts for another time, perhaps when she wasn’t in mortal danger. When she heard the gnoll following her trail down the bank of the river – a decoy trail she’d created just so she could get the drop on it – she peeked out from behind the tree trunk. The creature was just as monstrous as she remembered, with wiry hair, a thick mane like a lion, and canine features. It sported a few seeping wounds from where she’d shot it during her flight, but the arrows had long since dissipated into silvery motes of mana. However, despite those injuries, it moved with surety and the grace of an apex predator, holding a thick-hafted, flint-tipped spear like it knew precisely how to use it. From experience, Abby knew that the monster could send that projectile flying through the air with at least as much speed and almost as much precision as she could shoot her arrows – which wasn’t even close to fair, as far as Abby was concerned.

However, fair or not, she was determined to accomplish the task she’d come to this mountain to do. She was there by choice. She hadn’t been forced. She had chosen this route so she would have a chance to keep up with her friends, and her determination hadn’t wavered just because she had hit her first speed bump. No – she would forge through this latest barrier, just as she had when she’d first found herself reborn into the new world. Back then, she’d been weak, and not just from a physical standpoint. Fresh off of a life where she lived in constant fear of her abusive and controlling husband, it would have been incredibly easy to give in, to continue down that same road where she was dependent on others. She had taken her first mistake – the ill-informed skill choice – and bent it to her own benefit, becoming a capable and respected adventurer along the way.

But even though it shamed her to admit it, she’d fallen into some old habits with Zeke. He was so much stronger than her, and she’d somehow convinced herself that she was pulling her own weight. She helped, but she knew just how superfluous she really was. She was determined to change that, and the first step was killing the gnoll that had been stalking her for miles.

So, without further hesitation, she summoned her bow. Even as it unfolded from the paired glove, she conjured an arcane arrow. Then, with determination gleaming in her eyes, she loosed the arrow. Even before it thudded home between the creature’s ribs, she had fired another. And another. It turned and charged. Three more, she managed to let loose before the monster was upon her. None of the arrows had done much damage, with a couple of them glancing off the thing’s thick hide and carving on the shallowest of grooves, but that was how Abby had to fight, for now. Death by a thousand cuts. Or arrows, as it were.

Unlooping the hatchet from her waist, she also drew the blue-tinged shortsword from the scabbard on her other hip. Lightning arced up and down the blade, a promise for anything unfortunate enough to find itself on the wrong end of her attacks. Then, just as she crouched in a fighter’s stance, the monster was upon her.

She dove to the side, a claw missing her face by only an inch or two, and swung the hatchet in a horizontal strike. It connected, but it was only a grazing blow, which was fine by Abby. The wounds themselves weren’t that important. It was the poison that came with them that really mattered.

She turned her dive into a roll and coming to her feet just in time to intercept the gnoll’s second attack with a slap of her shortsword that sent the arcing claw flying wide. More importantly, the sword’s effect went to work, stunning the monster for just long enough that Abby got another sweeping attack with her hatchet in. Its green-tinged blade sliced across the gnoll’s heavily muscled torso, ripping through its flesh with relative ease.  However, it was still only a surface-level wound, and the monster, recovered from the shortsword’s shock, rewarded Abby with a backhanded blow that sent her careening into a nearby tree.

Muscles wrenched, bones nearly broke, and when she rose, she had to spit the blood from her mouth.

Too slow, she thought. She was always too slow. Too weak. She was an archer whose arrows couldn’t kill an even-leveled monster, even when she attacked from ambush. She had three top-grade weapons, and still, she struggled to even wound the gnoll before her. It was disgusting.

With a roar of fury, she launched herself at the gnoll, her blades whirling with more speed or precision than she’d ever summoned before. And in seconds, the gnoll was on its back foot and had taken a half-dozen shallow wounds. However, as furious as Abby’s attack was, her stats hadn’t changed. Nor had she picked up a new skill. She was just as weak as ever, and it only took a handful of moments for the gnoll to realize that fact.

With a snarl, it recovered its footing and launched an offensive of its own. Its claws were a blur as it opened one wound after another, ripping Abby’s leather armor and her flesh alike to tatters.

But her [Venomous Axe] had already begun to work its effects on the gnoll, necrotizing and numbing the monster’s flesh. It slowed, minutely at first, and much more noticeably with every passing second. Before long, Abby found herself keeping up with the monster’s attacks. Then, her own speed exceeded that of the gnoll, and she began to score one attack after another until, finally, it dropped to the ground, its breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps.

Without hesitation, Abby continued her assault, chopping at the monster’s neck with her handaxe. It took seven blows, but eventually, she severed the spine, and the gnoll went still.

Abby collapsed to her hands and knees, her chest rising and falling in deep gasps. Flecks of blood came with every breath, evidence of her internal injuries. She didn’t think she was in mortal danger, but she also wasn’t in any condition to continue her quest, either. It was frustrating. She had only been in the gnolls’ territory for half a day, and already, she was wrung out to the point where she knew that, without outside intervention, she wouldn’t be able to go on.

Balling her hand into a fist, she pounded the leaf-strewn ground in exasperation, tears of mingled anger, self-pity, and frustration flowing down her dirty cheeks. How had Zeke done it? How had he survived all by himself for two years, fighting monsters two- and three-times his level? Those troll caves had doubtless transformed him, molded him into the warrior he’d become. But was there something else in there? Something that she lacked? Was she just not good enough?

No, she thought with more force than she thought she could manage. She was strong. She’d proven it time and time again. She could endure, just as Zeke had. She would learn from her mistakes, and she would do better next time. And when she accomplished her goal, when she grew stronger, she would be worthy of a place beside him.

It wasn’t a question of whether or not he wanted her there. She knew he didn’t care. He would drag her forward if it was necessary. Love did that to people. But she couldn’t allow herself to be a burden. She would leave before she let that happen. This was only the first step in catching up, and she refused to falter, just because it was difficult.

With that surety in mind, Abby rocked back on her heels, grimacing with the agony of her wounds. Then, she reached into her satchel and retrieved one of the potions Tucker had made for her. Popping the cork from the vial, she downed the syrupy concoction, and immediately, her flesh began to knit back together. It was a distinctly uncomfortable feeling that combined itching, tickling, and a general wrongness she couldn’t articulate, but Abby endured it as best she could. When the potion was finished working its magic, she checked herself for any lingering injuries. There were none. The potion had worked as advertised, leaving unmarred flesh where ragged wounds had been only moments before.

“Nine more,” she muttered, thinking of her store of potions. Before she’d crossed that river and into gnoll territory, it had seemed like overkill. But now? After nearly dying to her first encounter? The collection of life-saving potions seemed woefully inadequate.

Climbing to her feet, Abby sheathed her shortsword and hung the hatchet from the loop on her belt. Then, she went back to the stream she’d tried to use to disguise her trail, where she washed the worst of the blood from her skin. There was a lot more of it than she’d expected; perhaps it had been a closer call than even she thought.

Shaking her head, Abby regained her feet, looted the gnoll – gaining nothing but a distinct loathing for its wet dog smell – and took off on her way, even warier than before. For the rest of the day, she didn’t encounter any other threats – gnollish or otherwise – and when the sun went down, she set about making a fire, which she empowered with her skill, [Makeshift Camp]. The skill had seemed mostly superfluous since meeting Zeke – save for that one incident where they’d been attacked by thugs sent by the Crystal Spiders – but now, she was more than a little thankful for having it in her repertoire. Without it, she’d have had to take her chances sleeping in the trees; and who knew what sorts of predators lived in the forest’s canopy. However, with [Makeshift Camp], so long as she had a fire, she would be able to sleep in peace.

After a meal of dried snake, Abby settled down for the night. As she did, she stared into the fire, incapable of escaping the loneliness that enveloped her. She had gotten used to Zeke, and without his arms around her, she felt more alone than she had in years. Maybe ever. His presence was comforting than Abby could rightly articulate, and she keenly felt its absence. Did that make her weak? Or did it just make her human?

She was far too exhausted to tackle that at the moment, so she went to sleep, hoping that the following day would be better or easier than the one she’d just had. Of course, if it was, it would defeat the whole purpose. She needed to go through the same sort of crucible that Zeke had in the troll caves. She needed to be remade, like Talia. Otherwise, she would always be at the back of the group, hanging onto her more capable teammates’ coattails.

And she refused to let that happen.

So, bring it on, she thought. I’ll come out the other side stronger than before.