Chapter 8

  When Ben let loose his arrow, his cherubs struck as well. His heart sank at what he saw.

  The boss’s health dropped by only five percent. That included the sneak attack bonus.

  Ben considered turning and running right there. A terrifying roar stopped him in his tracks.

  The bear awoke with a blood-curdling bellow. Ben froze for only a moment. His cherubs showed no such hesitation. The archers continued firing at the boss’s face, while the warriors slashed furiously as it roared.

  The fervor of his summons snapped Ben out of his daze. He nocked another arrow as the bear came to its senses. It had wasted precious time roaring, and the cherubs took full advantage.

  The bear swiped at the nearest cherub warrior. Shockingly, the warrior dodged the first strike. A moment later, the bear lunged forward and crushed it between its teeth. The cherub vanished in a flash of white light.

  One hit kill.

  Ben’s eyes widened. The attack was blindingly fast, unnatural for something so large.

  There was a reason this was a boss monster.

  The bear turned on the second cherub warrior. Again, the first swipe missed. Ben raised his hand, already knowing what would follow. The bite came next, and the cherub disappeared.

  Two more cherubs replaced it instantly, spawning mid-slash and cutting toward the bear’s eyes. They missed, but their blades raked along the side of its face. The bear never stopped moving. Catching its eyes was far harder than it sounded.

  The sequence repeated in seconds. Claw, dodge. Bite, death. The follow-up bite was unavoidable.

  Ben tried ordering a shield block. It failed spectacularly. The bear did not even need to bite. One claw sent the cherub flying in a burst of white light.

  The bear locked eyes with Ben.

  Before it could charge, Ben summoned two more cherubs.

  His mana was nearly gone. He could summon twice more before exhausting himself. He checked his inventory and frowned.

  Eight mana potions.

  Given how many lizardmen he had killed, he expected more. Drops were random. Some enemies dropped mana potions. Others dropped health or stamina potions. Many dropped nothing at all.

  Health potions were useless here. One clean hit would kill him outright.

  Stamina potions were worse. He had no stamina-based skills and no intention of surviving long in melee.

  Ben chugged a mana potion and readied his summoning spell. One cherub warrior fell before he finished drinking.

  Throughout it all, the cherub archers never stopped firing. They aimed for the bear’s eyes, briefly testing other areas, but its hide was too thick. Arrows bounced off its fur with minimal effect.

  Weak spots were the only answer. Its head was the best option. Eyes, nose, or maybe the mouth.

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  Ben cursed the missed opportunity. The bear’s eyes had been closed during the sneak attack.

  Time blurred as the fight settled into a brutal rhythm. Ben was thankful the bear lacked the sense to charge straight at him. If it had, the fight would already be over.

  As it stood, they were locked in a stalemate, with Ben constantly resummoning cherub warriors.

  Each time they spawned, they landed two strikes. One immediately, and another after dodging the first swipe.

  Dread crept in as Ben reached his last two potions. The bear still had about sixty percent of its health.

  Despite that, Ben felt a grim sense of pride. He had taken nearly half of a boss monster’s health alone.

  That realization mattered. Even if he failed, he now understood his class. The cherub warriors were fast enough to strike first and reliably evade the initial claw. That alone spoke volumes.

  They were stronger than he had thought. Compared to standard summons or necromancer undead, his cherubs were in a different league. They fought like players, flew freely, and used advanced aerial maneuvers.

  “This really is a God-tier class,” Ben thought.

  Satisfied with the proof, Ben prepared to retreat.

  Then the feeling returned.

  “Stay, and it will fall.”

  He growled under his breath. He could ignore it. It was not in control of him. Yet the thought carried weight, enough that turning away felt like a mistake.

  He had two mana potions left. One hit would kill him. Even his shield was useless.

  Ben exhaled slowly and turned back to face the boss.

  “Okay,” he said.

  He closed his eyes briefly and whispered a silent prayer.

  “Heavenly Father, please guide my hand.”

  Ben dismissed his bow and drew a long spear. His arrows were doing little anyway. He needed a new approach.

  His last cherub warrior fell as he stepped forward. He summoned two more and drained another potion.

  The pattern repeated, but this time, when the bear lunged to bite, Ben met it head-on.

  Schunk.

  The spear drove straight up the bear’s nose. Five percent of its health vanished instantly. It roared and reared back on its hind legs.

  Ben stared in disbelief.

  No one liked a spear up their nose.

  The cherubs surged forward. Ben tried to push the spear deeper, but the bear shattered it with a violent swipe. He dropped the broken shaft and pulled another spear from his inventory without hesitation.

  Distance was key. He jabbed at its face, aiming for eyes, nose, and mouth.

  The bear took heavy damage before charging again, this time pushing past the cherubs and coming straight for Ben.

  Ben planted the spear and dove aside at the last possible moment.

  The spear pierced straight into its left eye.

  Ben barely had time to register it. The bear howled and clawed at its face as the cherubs pressed their attack.

  He seized the opening and switched weapons, drawing a training warhammer. With practiced footwork, he closed the distance and smashed it into the bear’s hind leg.

  The blow lacked power, but it was enough.

  The boss recoiled, tearing the spear from its eye, blood pouring freely as it locked onto Ben and unleashed an ear-piercing roar.

  Even the cherubs faltered. Ben dropped the hammer and covered his ears. Before he could recover, the bear charged again.

  He tried the same trick with another spear. This time, the bear bit down and shattered it instantly, never slowing as it swiped at Ben.

  Ben leapt aside, but not fast enough.

  Pain tore through him as claws ripped into his thigh. He tumbled across the ground and collapsed.

  The first thing he realized was that he was alive. The hit had been a glancing blow, but even that nearly killed him.

  Then came the pain. Turning up the pain setting had been a mistake. His thigh bled freely as he struggled to rise, managing only to kneel.

  The bear was already turning back toward him.

  It charged again, ignoring the cherubs entirely. It wanted Ben.

  He could not run. Even wounded, the bear’s rage let it ignore its injury.

  Ben tried to summon a health potion, but there was no time. Manifesting it took too long. Drinking it took longer.

  He looked at the health bar.

  Just above twenty percent.

  “So close,” he thought.

  Despite everything, Ben smiled.

  The feeling that washed over him was strange. Peace. Acceptance. He had tried his best. He had failed, but he accepted that.

  Then he noticed movement at the edge of his vision.

  [Player Eve is requesting to join your party. Do you accept?]

  Ben froze.

  A cloaked figure stepped between him and the bear, shield raised.

  “Are they going to take the attack head on?” Ben thought.

  The notification and the stranger’s arrival blurred together. Ben focused on the request.

  He would take any help he could get.

  “Accept.”