Withering World 1 [MCSM Fanfiction]

RAVAGEMENT: Chapter 52

Petra

"Booyah, in your face!" I yell exuberantly as I stab a creeper to its end before it ignites, tactical and calculated. My exclamation was for the explosive mob, but is also made well-known to the adventurer who has just lost the bet he initiated. "That's half a stack of gunpowder brought to you in record time by only the best warrior in town."

The wrinkles of shame that appear on Jack's face say that he won't ever get used to hearing anyone else narrate like he does. I doubt he'd ever get used to anyone stealing his limelight either - it's starving his ego.

"Whatever," he says, "they were all spawning in your zone."

"Or you might just be diving headfirst into your retirement." I give a cheeky smirk.

It's still early on in the day but it doesn't make a difference for the low lighting in the mineshafts. There's a higher chance Jack will spew another challenge for me to win again, bragging on about how stamina is his thing. He's not getting any younger, an engine way past its prime still trying to run like how it used to.

"Hey! I'm nowhere near close to retiring! We'll do a stack of bones next. Yeah, that'll show you."

Called it.

"You're on. I was just getting warmed up," I say, rolling my head to smoothen out any stiffness in my neck.

He gets a head-start, splitting off to dart for the first skeleton he sees while I do the same. Its arrows fly at me, scattered with untidy aim, making it a breeze for me to dodge. I stab it in the ribs, the mob's bones crumbling as the number I have to collect now goes down to sixty-three.

It isn't fair - Jack knows the mineshafts much better than me. I got lost on one or two occasions though I think my mind's beginning to wrap around the floor plan.

Some arrows shot were a near miss, but most I could twirl around excessively. In every blow and every strike, Miss Butter doesn't let me down.

"I'm at twenty!" Jack shouts a little while later. His voice echoes from a distance along these narrow stone walls as I scout three skeletons ahead.

I evade their mini spears, almost annihilating all of them in once slice. There are nineteen bones in my inventory, one less than him. Despite that, I don't feel the need to fret.

Over a broken rail I hop, my maneuvering sleek to slay another that'd barely gotten its fingers locked on its arrow. Two bones in one kill; I'm on a roll!

----

The stakes are high. Forty-two of the challenge loot rest in my inventory, clicking and clacking with a warm, mellow sound as I sprint towards a mob with almost terribly accurate aim. I have a deep feeling that Jack roughly has the same as me although hasn't called out any progress update in the last ten minutes.

Besides all that, this skeleton has unnatural talent. Thank goodness I have my armor on because if I didn't, I'd for sure be dead by now. It may not have eyes, yet it hits its targets almost like a falcon. My chest plate deflects its many arrows and I block my face with my shielded arm to stop one from hitting it.

Regardless of this particular undead being the best of the best, it's still mob, dimwitted and brainless, no match for my unreal agility. It takes a step back, knowing its coming end.

With one tremendous swoop, I strike it across the sternum and stab it in the ribs, an arrogant sneer pulling my chin up.

Before it falls to the ground, its solid fingers graze the pauldron that guards my hurt shoulder.

That's when I look up with a quiver, and suddenly his eyes are there in place of the skeleton's empty sockets, blue like the midday sky, unforgiving. His pale face blares in my head, vanishing and reappearing in my every blink.