The kneeling rogue had nocked and drawn another arrow. With wide, fear-filled eyes and flinching in pain, he loosed the arrow at his dagger-wielding enemy.
The arrow tore into Jack’s side, almost passing all the way through. He gasped in pain as he felt the serrated tip rip into soft flesh just below his rib cage, yet he didn’t abandon his reckless charge. Gritting his teeth and ignoring the nausea-inducing agony, he swung his dagger towards the rogue’s neck.
The rogue attempted to block Jack’s dagger with his bow while trying to unsheathe his shortsword. As the rogue’s bow parried the dagger strike, Jack’s momentum sent them tumbling into the wildflowers at the forest’s edge. Soon, arms, legs, the rogue’s bow, a dagger, and a shortsword became entangled in a struggle for dominance.
Both Jack and the ratty rogue grunted in pain as the arrows in their side and gut snapped while they rolled through the grass and wildflowers. Jack clutched his dagger, and the rogue his shortsword, while the bow and arrows were lost in the ensuing scuffle.
Jack held the rogue’s shortsword at bay with his left hand, while the rogue held Jack’s dagger wielding arm with his left. It was a temporary stalemate that wouldn’t last more than a few moments.
As the two fought for their lives amid the wildflowers, the butterflies and bees continued to gather nectar to see them through the night. It was their own, more subdued, struggle for survival in this harsh world.
Jack, still gasping for breath, headbutted the thin, ratty man on the bridge of the nose, causing a loud cracking noise and blood to pour from his now broken nose.
As they rolled over once again, Jack found himself on top. He wrenched his dagger-wielding arm away from the rogue’s grip and drove the dagger towards the rogue’s neck.
The panic-stricken rogue raised his left arm in defence, where Jack’s dagger found a home through the thin man’s left wrist.
As the rogue screamed in pain, Jack put all his weight into the dagger to drive it through the man’s wrist and towards the rogue’s grimacing face.
The thin rogue dropped his shortsword and concentrated on pushing his assailant away with both hands. “Helthp!” he shouted as six inches of the bloody blade protruding from his wrist moved towards his ratty face. “Helthp!”
Jack grabbed the dagger with both hands and, with what little strength he had left, pushed towards the vermin’s throat. The palm of his hand stung as if he’d gripped a sharp thorn.
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The rogue’s grunts of panic turned into a gurgling splutter as the dagger, still stuck in the rogue’s wrist, found its home in his neck. Blood cascaded from the rogue’s carotid artery as Jack tore his dagger free while falling back among the grass and wildflowers.
The thin rogue looked on in horror, both hands now trying to stem the flow of blood.
Still clutching his blood-soaked weapon, Jack climbed to his hands and knees, exhausted.
The rogue rolled to his side while blood streamed from the fatal wound. He gargled something unintelligible while trying to stem the flow of blood; his life was slipping away.
Jack didn’t care what the rogue was trying to say, probably begging for his life. He crawled the few feet to the dying man and plunged his blood-soaked dagger back into his throat, twisting it to end him. His right hand stung again, but he ignored it as he took deep, ragged breaths and tried not to pass out from exhaustion.
As life left the thin rogue, Jack again felt a wave of power pass through him. A small, but not insignificant, fraction of his fatigue faded, granting him some reprieve. He gasped with relief as some of his tiredness dissipated and his vision cleared.
“Fuck! That was… awful,” he croaked as he took deep breaths to both calm himself and inhale the much-needed air he’d been deprived of.
The fight had lasted a minute or two, but with the goblin battle and the frantic sprint through the forest, it felt like hours of relentless running and fighting at full speed.
I just want to sleep. He looked at the dead man before him, knowing he couldn’t afford to rest. “Damn it, there are five more.” He scanned the forest for any sign of the other adventurers. The trees swayed in the warm evening breeze, indifferent to the bloody corpse lying before them; there was no movement beyond the fluttering leaves and the buzz of nearby bees.
With trembling hands, Jack sheathed his bloodied dagger and began gathering the scattered items from the fight. Several dozen arrows lay nearby, spilt from their quivers during the struggle. Jack stuffed as many as he could into his own quiver, slung the rogue’s bow over his shoulder, and dragged the thin rogue’s corpse towards the root ball hole.
Though it felt like hours, it was less than a minute before Jack reached the fallen tree’s roots, gasping for breath and grunting in pain. The broken arrow shaft lodged in his side stung with every exertion, a sharp reminder of his injuries.
After a struggle, he managed to haul the corpse into the deep hollow left by the uprooted tree. He paused, taking deep breaths to steady himself. He glanced at the trail left by the body’s drag marks. “Damn it! Why can’t I ever have any good luck?” he muttered, crawling back out of the hole.
For the next minute, he worked to obscure the signs of the dead body’s drag marks. It wasn’t perfect, but with the sun setting on the far side of the forest, he hoped the growing shadows would conceal most of his tracks. I hope none of them have tracking skills.
The area was already crisscrossed with animal trails and paths worn by adventurers, making it difficult to determine the cause of the disturbance.
Jack crawled back into the root well, careful not to leave an obvious trail. “Damn it!” He’d spotted his white oak bow dangling from the nearby roots. After retrieving the bow, he struggled to remove the dead rogue’s cloak, then stuffed the body into the deepest, darkest part of the hollow along with his own pack and most of the rogue’s belongings.
He kept his bow, quiver, and the rogue’s shortsword within reach, ready for another fight.
Lying beside the corpse, Jack draped the dark cloak over them both as best he could, leaving a small gap to peer through. Fuck, this is creepy, he’s still warm! Shivering at the feeling, he took slow, deliberate breaths, waiting for what might come next.
Featured Web Novel
Fantasy Isekai Kingdom-building Cool weapons Spicy poly-romance
While the Zoran Empire is about to conquer the entire continent, Jack is reincarnated as a leader of refugees seeking a haven.
After his own arrogance ruined his life, the blacklisted and depressed “Jack” escapes into strategy games, turning around hopeless starts... until he is reincarnated into one.
An engineering and history nerd, he knows how to build a civilization. But can he actually do it when his new people are living in tents, at the brink of starvation and threatened by marauding bandits? Or will his own cockiness and distrust of people doom them all?
Meanwhile, just across the border, a young Princess searches for a way to protect her realm as an ever expanding Empire, bent on conquering the whole continent, creeps closer. When their paths cross, they must find a way to stand together against a behemoth.
If you enjoy the problem-solving grit of The Martian and the world-building depth of Release That Witch, you’ll love A Modern Mind in Medieval Times.
What to expect
- Civilization from scratch → City building → Kingdom building
- A pragmatic, cunning protagonist who wins through strategy and isn’t a passive wimp.
- Real science and engineering that leads to cool weapons and realpolitik in an evolving narrative.
- A romance that shapes the fate of kingdoms. Realistic poly relationship. Not a horde of faceless girls.
- The ultimate clash: Technology and Progress vs. Tradition and Magic