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Isekai Terry TOD: Chapter 38 – Doom Slap
🕑 Added 2024-07-12 21:50:02 +0000 UTCTerry tried to decide on a strategy as he closed the distance with the man-goat thing. He didn’t have a good sense of how intelligent it was, but it hadn’t immediately charged at them. That didn’t necessarily make it smart. There were four of them. Five of them if you counted Drumstick, which Terry didn’t. The man-goat thing might have just been following a basic instinct not to attack multiple opponents. On the other hand, it might have decided to wait and see what they all did. That made Terry a little more cautious than he might have been if it just attacked with towering savagery the way most of the monsters he’d encountered seemed prone to do. Knowing my luck, this one is the da Vinci of man-goat things. Terry hesitated a little as his imagination decided to provide him with a vaguely disconcerting image of a Vitruvian man-goat. Not helpful, Terry told himself.
For all his caution, Terry wasn’t particularly worried about this particular monster. He wasn’t getting that threatening feeling he’d gotten in the past. There was no hovering sense of immediate, mortal danger. Maybe the creature was dangerous, but it wasn’t excessively dangerous. He wasn’t ready to assume that he’d slap it down like a bully on the playground, but he wouldn’t be entirely surprised if that happened either. When he was starting to wonder if the damn thing had been paralyzed by shock, a shiver ran through the thing’s bulk. It hunkered down a bit like the world’s most grotesque linebacker, aimed its horns in his general direction, and charged at him. It’s really going to try to ram me? Well, okay.
Terry almost reached for his sword and then changed his mind. He concentrated and encouraged that core he’d felt to give him some strength. There was a moment of hesitancy like it didn’t quite know what to do, and then warmth surged through him. He eyed the charging monster, and it felt like the world came into sharper focus. He could see the weird, square pupils in its eyes. He heard its disturbingly human feet slapping against the stone of the road. The odd huffing noise of its breathing reached his ears. He no longer needed to think about the right timing for what he was about to do. He just knew. As the creature drew within striking distance, Terry did what seemed most appropriate. He slapped the big dumb monster across its stupid goat face.
There was a crack like a gunshot followed almost immediately after by the crack of the man-goat thing’s neck shattering. All of its forward momentum was redirected as the limp form was hurled into a nearby tree. For a brief moment, it looked like the impact might bring the tree down, but all the trees around them were old, towering things that grasped for the sky. Their roots had run deep. Terry looked from where the thing had landed back to his own hand.
“Well, shit. That was anticlimactic,” he muttered. “At least, it was easy.”
He walked over to the dead monster, drawing his jian as he went. He could hear Drumstick’s thunderous footfalls as the chicken-lizard raced up to get fed. Terry split open the man-goat thing’s chest and dug around briefly until he came up with its core. He felt at it and was happy to discover he could absorb it. He focused. The core seemed to almost unravel in his hand as his body greedily soaked up its stored power. He glanced at Drumstick, who was almost hopping from one giant lizard foot to the other.
“Yeah. Yeah,” said Terry. “Just give me a second.”
He neatly severed the creature’s head. He grabbed one of the horns, lifted the head, and backed off.
“There. Enjoy your meal.”
Terry turned away as Drumstick pounced on the remains. He’d seen the chicken-lizard eat things before and didn’t feel any need to observe the act again. He made his way back to the other three adventurers. He gave them a bit of a wide berth because they were giving him very odd looks. Jaban’s bow was hanging limply from one hand and on the verge of slipping from his grasp. Haresh’s face was blank but his eyes were fixed on the place in the road where Terry had delivered his little love tap. Ekori’s wide, unblinking eyes were following his every step. It was actually kind of creepy. He smiled at Dusk, who had ignored it all. She’d found a small stick and was savaging it. Terry opened his pack and started pushing things around.
“What are you doing?” asked Ekori.
Man, is that girl stuck on a loop or something?
“I’m looking for my head sack.”
“Your… Your head sack?”
“You know how the guild is. They want proof. Heads are good proof, but you have to keep them somewhere. Hence, the head sack. Ah ha!”
Terry pulled his trusty head sack out of the pack and dropped the monster’s head into it. He hoped the guild wouldn’t think he was trying to pass off a regular goat head for a monster head. That would be inconvenient. Although, he supposed they must have a way of telling one from the other. Once he had the head taken care of, he pulled out a water skin and washed his bloody hand. He was mostly convinced he couldn’t catch anything like viruses or whatever, but he didn’t see an upside in taking chances.
“At you just going let the cockatrice eat that thing?” asked Jaban.
Terry finished drying his hand and looked over at the young man. Jaban looked like he might be violently sick at any moment. Well, that’s what he gets for watching Drumstick eat.
“It needs to eat something,” said Terry, shrugging his indifference over the matter.
“But that will make it stronger,” objected Ekori.
“Which might matter if it ever actually attacked anything,” he said.
Haresh jerked and seemed to snap out of his daze. His gaze swiveled to where Terry was scooping Dusk off the ground. He opened his mouth, hesitated, and then pressed forward.
“You’re no rank three,” he finally said.
There was an edge of accusation in his voice as though Terry had told them all some terrible, unforgivable lie. Terry lifted an eyebrow at him.
“I assure you that I most certainly am a rank three,” offered Terry. “The guild is quite certain of it.”
Haresh frowned at those words like they didn’t make any sense. Terry pet the purring kitten in his hand.
“You killed that thing with one—” Jaban seemed to struggle to find the right word.
“Slap,” provided Terry.
“You slapped it?!” shouted an incredulous Haresh.
“I slapped it hard,” answered Terry defensively.
Haresh closed his eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. It looked like he needed to steady his nerves. Ekori was giving him more of that unblinking stare. He got the distinct impression that she was examining him the way she might some very exotic, hitherto unseen animal. It left him with a deeply uncomfortable feeling that Terry wished to never repeat in the future. The bow finally slipped out of Jaban’s hand. The young man didn’t even seem to notice.
“You dropped your bow,” said Terry.
It took a few seconds before Jaban woodenly looked down. He reached down with jerky motions and picked it up. He stared at the bow like he’d never seen it before. The young man shook his head a little and hung the bow over his shoulder. Terry decided that it was an excellent time to be doing something. So, he took a couple of minutes to juggle Dusk, his pack, and his head sack between his hands. He finally got the pack situation. The kitten took up station on his shoulder. Terry considered the head sack for a moment. He had killed the plant monster the other three were going after. He hadn’t set out to do it, but he had done it. He tossed the sack to Haresh. The man caught the sack, although it looked mostly like a reflex. He gave Terry a quizzical look.
“I’m pretty sure I killed that plant monster you three were after. It only seems fair that you get something in return. But I want my head sack back after you collect the reward.”
“Head sack?” asked Haresh.
“Ask her,” said Terry with a gesture toward Ekori. “I already explained this once. Come on. Plenty of daylight left.”
Terry started walking down the road before he stopped next to Drumstick, who was still pecking at the body.
“Don’t take too long, or you’ll get left behind.”
The chicken-lizard straightened up in fright, a leg hanging out of its beak. Terry shook his head and resumed walking.
Comments
Jeremy Young
Perhaps there is an artefact hat coming
ScarletIce
When they press him about his rank he should just respond with "higher ranks have to many strings attached". I feel like Haresh would immediately understand what Terry means by that.
Mike lee
Head sack is my second favorite equipment, after hat. RIP hat.
Eric Dontigney
The very soul of averageness.
Neal Callahan
Absolutely. Just a normal rank three doing normal rank three stuff like *checks notes* slapping terrifying goat monsters to death, removing their identifying markers and then feeding them to the very normal chicken, drumstick.
luda305
DOOM!
Consumer of litrpg
It's an odd culture this world has, to stare blankly at perfectly reasonable people making perfectly reasonable statements.
