“Run away,” I screamed repeatedly. “Take the merchants and run into the forest!”

But they didn’t listen to me.

And why would they? There was nothing more intimidating than presenting your back to the enemy and they held out rather well against the other leprechauns. But the Púca was different. They just didn’t understand yet.

I sped up my hobbling, but a fast snail was still a snail.

And the Púca, unperturbed by my screams, grabbed the Leprechaun in front of him, slit his throat, and drank the gushing blood. Both staff and knife fell to the ground as the Púca, now on all fours, convulsed in pain. Bones broke and reconnected, his black fur grew longer, and his face deformed under his mask.

A deafening roar. And I was too late.

A black wolf stood in front of Drew’s little group. One with the shoulder height of a human. Like a war horse, but with the additional benefit of a mouth full of sharp teeth.

Púca, shapeshifter, black death. An early game boss in the leprechaun’s area. Its level doubled that of normal leprechauns. High evasion, piercing attacks with its teeth, and skin so thick our normal attacks wouldn’t work. In short, not an enemy our little caravan could fight, let alone defeat.

Defeating a Púca inside the game wasn’t that hard even with low levels. Kill the surrounding leprechauns, spam healing items, and wait for his transformation to wear off. Afterwards it was only an exhausted black leprechaun, easy to kill and with a shipload of experience points. So despite its exaggerated nickname it soon became one of the player’s favorite grinding spots.

So the plan became straightforward. Use the incredible amount of zero healing items and my evasion skill boosted by an injured foot to weather the endless onslaught of a Púca and three more leprechauns. Afterwards I would use my inexhaustible skill count of three and slaughter the weakened enemy.

Yeah, we were fucked.

Panic-fueled neighing snapped me out of my thoughts. Two merchants used their carriages to flee the scene, back towards Gladford, leaving their bodyguards behind. Four more fighters for me.

“Get in line and help,” I screamed at them. “You won’t stand a chance alone!”

They listened. Thank god, they listened.

Seven low-level fighters could keep the Leprechauns in check. So only the Púca remained a problem. A pressing one at that.

Its first attack hit Drew. A simple swing of its snout and he flew backwards, hit a carriage, and fell down. Unconscious. One attack, one hit, one fighter down. My strongest soldier was nothing in front of it. Its second attack, a bite with its teeth, shredded a bodyguard’s arm, nearly ripping it off whole. Its right paw ignored the laughable weak counterattacks and pressed down on another bodyguard. A penetrating snap and he fell silent.

Three men down in a handful of seconds. So much for the superiority against the leprechauns. At least those stood back, dodging the Púca’s uncaring attacks from a distance. As long as I occupied it for a while, things might shift for the better.

Finally arriving, I intercepted its next attack with an ax blow. The collision between snout and a skill powered ax destroyed parts of its bone mask and left a shallow cut on its nose. Not a noteworthy wound, but damage nonetheless. The first damage it had taken in this fight.

An angry snarl.

All the damage it took in its wolf form translated to identical damage on its actual body. And with me arriving in the battle it became wary. There was someone who could damage its body.

I smiled, switched my weapons around, and rotated my right shoulder. Painful, a contusion for sure. But I had to smile, appear fearless and strong. My last and only bet was its self preservation. And the black wolf closed its eyes.

I instantly evaded to the right.

Deep scratches appeared on my left arm. Bite marks. Another attack with its teeth. But just like in the game, the Púca had closed its eyes against damage when it attacked. It also behaved like in the game.

But even though I could predict its attacks, my condition didn’t allow for a prolonged fight. Either Púca or leprechauns might be fine, but both was pushing it. What a splendid start.

I sighed.

A particular twitch and the wolf attacked once more, this time with its paw. In response, I evaded its trajectory and activated my last two skill usages at the same time. The ax, now in my left hand, cut into the flesh. But it was an attack with my weaker left arm against a boss. It might leave a scar behind, but that was it. Or that would have been it.

Next followed my second attack, my last available skill, with the sword in my right hand. Not with the edge, but with the pommel. A full-powered attack with the last of my strength against the butt of the ax head. Enough force to push the edge through flesh and bones.

And with a snap, drowned by a distressed roar, two of its toes fell off. Try holding your staff like that, I mocked in my head, laughed, and stumbled back to safety.

I had used up my stamina and the backlash was immediate. All color was drowned by a gray veil, my hearing was dominated by a constant swoosh, and my blood set my body on fire.

But I forced myself to stand still and look at the Púca. Or the gray smudge where the Púca should be. I wanted to laugh in its face but I didn’t open my mouth. I might just puke all over it. And so, in this colorless world, I waited, a sheer endless time, while the Púca looked at me.

Did it assess my strength? Decide whether another attack of mine was worth the trouble? Did it balance this caravan’s worth against its own fingers? I didn’t know. Who would know what such a monster was thinking?

A few more seconds, stretched like hours.

Before it let out a suppressed hiss, turned around, and ran after the fleeing carriages.

“I leave the rest to you,” I mumbled towards one recruit, stumbled behind them and collapsed against a carriage.

Where my old friend the darkness greeted me once more.

I awoke after a few hours of rest. It had become dark, and the few survivors gathered around a campfire. Not even half the group we had started with. What a shitty first mission.

The next day we gathered the dead bodies and started our way home.

The wounded recruit from the front group had died after I collapsed. Stabbed to death by the one armed leprechaun I had forgotten. It died on his chest, still grasping the sword, taking him with it. In addition to the other fallen recruits, we also found the bodies of the two deserters not too far away. Lacerated.

Only Drew, two other recruits, and I survived our first battle. More than half the troop was killed.

Two bodyguards had died in battle with the leprechauns, and another one died during our return journey. The Púca had broken his leg with its paw attack and the wound inflamed. He died shortly after thanks to his high fever.

On the third day we encountered the other merchants. Two more dead bodies to transport.

Their carriages were destroyed, raided, and left behind it. All their wares taken away, nothing movable left. Even the horses were gone, probably taken away as fresh rations.

The journey back was silent. Depressed. Not only did we not reach Haithabu, but we also lost both lives and wares alike. The only bright spot was Drew’s condition, who stabilized after a few days of headaches and puking. But besides that, the future promised nothing but gray.

The merchants had lost their time and investments. The bodyguard’s cost, the perishable rations, the costs for horse and carriage. All lost. Even Fabien stopped his merrymaking and sat around in silence, only talking to the macaw inside his cage.

I also spent the nights arguing with myself. Would it have been better if I taught them my knowledge? If they had known of the Púca’s existence? Or if they were one or two level higher? No, even level five for myself would have been enough to deal with this group in a better way.

But now my future looked worse. Not only did I lose half my men, but I also failed the mission so thoroughly, others wouldn’t achieve the same dumpster fire if they tried. So much for impressing my superiors, impressing her. A castle of clouds, washed away by the wind.

They would dissolve the troop, and I would server under another Vinetar as nothing but a simple soldier.

My thoughts drifted towards the necklace awaiting me in the barracks. I couldn’t even make use of it. Instead, I had to fight an impossible battle against a boss mob. Dear world, your balance is off. I plead for a beginner’s area without such crap. Respectfully, your resident.

I sighed for the umpteenth time.

No need to rage against my misfortune. I picked this life myself. I could have stayed on a farm, digging a ditch and cutting trees. But I chose this instead. Hence this was my responsibility. My cross to bear.

I wondered what Thea might be up to. The sun was high in the sky, so she should patrol the fields, speaking and laughing with the other farmers. Did they finish my ditch? And did they start another one, joking about their wives? A few short weeks and everything seemed so far away. Like a different life.

I shook my head.

Melancholic thoughts wouldn’t help. And they had nothing to do with this. Time to concentrate on the task at hand. To report our mission in its entirety. To look into her eyes and announce the result.

Total failure.

LostLibrarian

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