Pretending to be a noob in a world scaled by power level

[13] The jaws of the beast

The air around me seemed to crackle as my power increased dramatically, the feeling was like breaking the chains that were holding me back. I reached A-tier, an enormous surge of power that dwarfed everything else around me.

In an instant, I was moving.

The ground beneath my feet seemed to blur as I sprinted towards the Nemean lion. The world slowed down around me, and I drew my sword in a single, smooth motion. A hum filled the air as my blade cut through it, an echo of the power that now coursed through me.

The lion had just begun to close its jaws around the B-tier when I reached it. With a swift upward slash, my blade connected with the creature's mouth. There was a horrendous, ear-splitting screech, and the lion reeled back, disoriented.

Teeth, now severed from its jaws, flew in all directions. They hit the ground with soft thuds, their former owner stumbling backwards. The lion shook its head, confusion and pain reflected in its eyes.

I stood between it and the fallen adventurer, my sword still humming in my grip. My heart pounded in my chest, the adrenaline rushing through me making me feel alive. I had taken the initiative, the hunter had become the hunted.

If I kill it now, there would be no point...

I then shifted into a more defensive stance and I began to circle the injured beast, my movements quick and calculated. The Nemean lion snarled, trying to keep pace with me, but I was always a step ahead, always out of reach. Its ferocious swipes met nothing but air, its roars only a testament to its growing frustration.

I weaved between its lunges, my sword parrying its clumsy attacks with ease. I was careful, not to wound it further but to tire it, to give the other adventurers an opening. My heart pounded in my chest, adrenaline and focus making the world around me seem sharper, more vibrant. I could hear the shocked gasps and murmurs of the crowd, their surprise evident.

Then, at a lull in the beast's attack, I saw my chance. I skidded to a halt, spinning on my heel to face the crowd. "What are you waiting for, adventurers!?" I yelled, my voice echoing in the sudden silence. I pointed my sword towards the wounded beast, the sleek blade reflecting the moonlight. "Show him what you are made of!"

As if my words had lit a fire under them, the crowd sprung into action. Weapons were drawn, and the air filled with shouts and battle cries as the adventurers surged forward. With renewed courage, they charged the Nemean lion, each eager to take their shot at the beast.

The ensuing chaos was a blur of motion and sound, a cacophony of shouts, roars, and the clanging of metal against bone. The adventurers charged, each one of them eager to prove their worth, eager to make their mark. The Nemean lion roared in defiance, lashing out with claw and fang, but it was outnumbered, outflanked.

They fought with everything they had. Every stab, every slice, and every thrust was met with equal ferocity from the lion. It was a gruesome sight, filled with the raw brutality of life and death. The lion was relentless, causing more adventurers to sustain injuries, but they pressed on.

Little by little, the tide of the battle began to turn. Wounds started to accumulate on the lion's body, each one draining a bit more of its strength, each one pushing it closer to its end. Its movements grew slower, its roars weaker. The adventurers, despite their injuries, began to gain the upper hand.

Finally, with one last desperate charge, a group of adventurers lunged at the lion, their weapons sinking deep into its flesh. The beast let out a pitiful roar before collapsing onto the ground, its once powerful body now still. The silence that followed was almost deafening.

And then, it was over. The once fearsome Nemean lion was slain.

Q: Would you share the glory with other people even when you contributed the most?