What Do You Mean I'm The King Now??

Everything so far has gone according to my plan. I managed to ignite the smokesnappers, causing them to explode and billow out a dense cloud of smoke into the area. This dramatically lowered the bugbears' visibilities, which in turn lowered their dodge stats and made them vulnerable to ranged attacks.

Now, you're probably thinking, "Wait, Parker, your plan is stupid and makes no sense. Aren't you just providing a smoke screen to the bugbears? Giving them cover from arrows and making ranged attacks harder to hit? How is anyone supposed to aim accurately through such dense smoke?" To which I respond, normally, yes. A thousand times yes. If the archer is anyone else, this plan would be utterly pointless. But the archer isn't just anyone. It's Candy.

If you remember, Candy's has a C-tier talent called, "Eagle Eye", which grants her two positive buffs. First, it gives her a permanent fifty-percent increase to her hit chance. This is, along with her strong dexterity stat, the reason she can shoot so accurately and hit targets so consistently. But the linchpin of this plan is really Eagle Eye's second buff, which removes any accuracy penalties caused by B-tier or lower skills. Say, for example, a D-tier smokescreen.

In other words, the bugbears were blinded by the smokescreen while Candy was able to see them like fish in a barrel, and she capitalized on the opportunity perfectly, leaving one bugbear remaining. Here's to hoping the second part of my plan goes as swimmingly as the first. Now, if only it would let down its guard...

I eye the bugbear before me. Its powerful, eight-foot frame is fixed into a defensive stance, its heavy, spiked club raised before its c.h.e.s.t. Menacing, yellow eyes stare back at me, watching my every action. Slowly, I take a step to my right and then another and another, moving in a circular motion around the bugbear. I wonder how far it'll let me go, if it'll let me get all the way behind it. It's clear that the bugbear is hesitant to turn away from its current direction, for fear of being blindsided by an aerial assault, and so I use this fact to my advantage.

I travel the full one-hundred-eighty degrees before I finally stop. The bugbear still hasn't moved, so now I am facing its back, in an excellent position to launch a surprise attack. The position is so excellent, in fact, that I actually hesitate. "Is it really just going to let me attack from behind?" I think to myself. I grip the handle of my rapier a bit tighter, then stare at the bugbear's backside, envisioning and planning my attack. In the meanwhile, a gentle breeze flutters between us, like the calm before the proverbial storm. Then, I strike.

With a burst of speed, I close the ten-foot gap between me and the bugbear, rapier up and aiming for the exposed part of its back where I think its heart should be. Just as my rapier is about to pierce through its flesh however, I sense something is dangerously wrong. My eyes catch sight of the bugbear's feet as they start to pivot.

He's going to swing!

Instantly, I drop to the ground, just in time to hear the whoosh! sound of the heavy, spiked club slicing through the air where my head had been moments before. I roll backwards and recover, standing up again about six feet to the bugbear's right, and I see that the bugbear's club has returned back to its original defensive position, as if nothing at all has happened. I raise my free hand and feel my face, making sure my head is still in one piece.

Scary! That was way too close!

Now it makes sense to me why the bugbear doesn't care if I get behind it. With its longer reach, it can always react in time to ward me off, no matter which direction I come from. This is going to be much more difficult than I planned for. I'm not used to fighting something that outranges me in hand to hand combat. With goblins, I had always had the advantage in terms of length.

I begin circling the bugbear again, looking for an opportunity to attack. A few times, I even dash forward, trying to get in a jab with my rapier. Each time however, I'm forced away by the swing of the bugbear's powerful club. Then after the fourth attempt, something suddenly changes. The bugbear actually turns its body towards me. I can see a wicked smile across its ugly face, and I'm momentarily stunned as I see it suddenly charge towards me, club raised.

I just barely managed to jump away in time to avoid its cleaving strike, diving for the ground before breaking into a roll in order to dodge its second assault, which hits the forest floor with such force that a smattering of dirt and grass explodes into the air. As I come out of my roll, I fall back several feet, gasping for breath. Then I look up at the bugbear in confusion.

What's going on? Why is it suddenly on the offensive? Wasn't it afraid to move because it thought it would get shot by arrows if it did?

I leap back again to avoid a slash to my c.h.e.s.t. As I'm retreating, that's when I suddenly notice it, the strange pattern to the bugbear's movements. It attacks me, but then quickly dashes away to the left side of a nearby tree, every single time without hesitation, almost like it knows beforehand where it needs to go. Then it hits me.

That crafty bastard! It's using the forest as cover to negate the threat of ranged attacks. And judging by its movements...was it just stalling for time before? So it can memorize the layout of the battlefield and where the cover is? F.u.c.k! I don't know if it's intelligence or battle sense, but the bugbear is definitely more combat savvy than the goblins I've been fighting up until now. I'm in trouble!

I feel myself being pushed back by the bugbear's relentless onslaught, and I have to concentrate hard just to avoid being clobbered. A cleave. A jab. A slice. Whoosh! The spiked club once again flies by my head, nearly knocking it clean off my shoulders. Five minutes in, and I'm panting for air, exhausted by the pace of the fight. If only I had put points into my constitution stat! But not all is quite lost just yet.

As the bugbear continues its attacks, I do gradually notice a certain repetition to its strikes. While the club is powerful, its size and weight makes it less versatile, and so the bugbear's attacks follow roughly the same pattern each time. More specifically, I discover that, between when it makes a downcut and when it pulls the club back for a side slash, there is a split second's opening where the club can't be recovered to defend. That's my opportunity to get in a clean strike. I just have to be patient.

A cleave. A jab. A slice. I continue to dodge, waiting for my chance, and then, I see that same strike pattern emerge. The downcut. The side slash.

Now!

I pivot left, dodging the incoming club while aiming my rapier for the bugbear's exposed right flank.

Got you!

Or so I think. Before my strike can land however, my eyes spot something gleaming suddenly fly towards me.

A hidden weapon?!

I instinctively cancel my attack and fall away, right as a dagger jets towards my heart. Thanks to my quick reactions, I avoid lethal damage, but the knife embeds itself deeply into my right upper arm. I stumble and fall, from surprise and pain, my rapier dropping to the ground. As I clutch my arm, I look up and see the bugbear grinning at me, its smug expression revealing rows of jagged teeth as its eyes taunt me.

That sneaky bastard! It had a throwing knife this whole time?

I shake my head, trying to focus. The fight isn't over just yet. Not until the fat lady sings. Reaching down, I pick up my rapier with my off-hand, holding it up awkwardly before my c.h.e.s.t. I just barely manage to get into a stance before the bugbear once again comes charging at me. It senses it has a clear advantage now, as its strikes grow more confident and merciless, aiming for my vitals with each and every attack.

For the next five minutes, I am able to consistently dodge, avoiding the spiked club by the narrowest of margins. But then, I suddenly step on a slick patch of grass, and I feel my footing slip just as the bugbear is coming in for an uppercut.

Shit! I can't dodge it time!

I hold my rapier out to try and block the shot, just as the spiked club collides with it. A thunderous bang! sound echoes through the forest. Instantly, the force of the strike throws me backwards into the air, sending me flying, while also snapping the blade of my rapier cleanly in half. I land face down on the ground with a painful oof! sound.

Behind me, I can hear the bugbear approaching, making a low rumbling noise that almost seems like laughing. With my hands hidden beneath my c.h.e.s.t, I turn my head back, noticing the smug expression on the bugbear's face. It stares me down for a moment, then raises its club high over its head, bringing it down towards my skull for one final, fatal strike.

Is this the end of the line? No.

Because it thinks it's won, because it is so supremely overconfident in its victory, the bugbear lets its guard down for just a split second. But that is the moment I've been waiting for since the beginning of the fight.

I pull out the hand I've been hiding beneath my c.h.e.s.t the whole time, with the spell I've been saving already prepared. Game over, bitch.

"Ember!"

As the ball of red fire erupts from the palm of my hand, I notice the look of surprise on the bugbears face. Its yellow eyes open wide, and for a second, I see the panic, the indecision. Suddenly, its downcut is half-hearted, as if it is unsure whether to follow through with the strike or to dodge. Had it simply committed to either, the outcome might have been favorable for it. If it had followed through, it might have been able to critically injure me. If it had committed to dodging, it might have avoided the brunt of my spell. But because I took it by surprise, the bugbear hesitated, doing neither. And in battle, hesitation is death.

The bugbear stands frozen from indecision, just as my spell blasts it right in the face, igniting it in a blazing inferno. The bugbear instantly drops its weapon, screaming in agony as both of its hands clutch at its skull. It's too late however. A few seconds later, the flames lick through its flesh, and the bugbear collapses to the ground, dead.

Slowly, I stand up and go over to its corpse. The smell of charred flesh fills the air, and I kick the bugbear a few times with my foot to make sure it's indeed dead. Then, I let out a tremendous sigh, throwing up my arms before donning on a huge grin.

"I did it! I f.u.c.k.i.n.g did it!"

Then, I collapse backwards onto the ground.