To Be a Hero {SBI Fantasy AU}

5. Problematic Developments

From all sides, monsters began to pour in from between the trees. The dark forested area was favorable for them, and the thick canopy prevented them from taking too much damage from the sunlight. In one smooth motion, Technoblade dismounted and drew his axe. Skillfully wielding the battle axe, he threw himself into the fray, decimating the monsters. Like a hot knife through butter, he quickly dispatched the hordes of zombies and skeletons. But it wasn't enough.

Tommy dismounted with considerably less grace, and brandished his short sword. Even though he probably couldn't kill half as many monsters as Techno could, he still could successfully fend a few off. By now, the small party had aligned themselves in a rough circle around the precious cargo, and were defending it as best as they could. Tubbo and Quackity had pulled out their spellbooks and Philza unsheathed his sword, and was already cutting down droves of the undead. Taking out monsters left and right, it felt like there were insurmountable volumes of enemies in the forest. How long would they be able to keep away the horde? Skeleton arrows were already piercing the sides of the cart and it was only a matter of time until the box broke. What would monsters want with a vase anyway? They were incapable of eating golden carrots and they didn't have enough braincells shared between the lot of them to even count to ten. It didn't make sense for them to ever plan a strategic attack beforehand. The only answer was that something had attracted the monsters here.

Over the din of the fighting, he could hear Philza yelling, "I though you said this mission would be easy." A spell went off to the right of Tommy, setting the skeleton aflame. "I thought it was!" Quackity retorted, "But evidently I was wrong!" Creating a tight circle around the cart, the five of them attempted to fend off the creatures as the mage continued, "The forest has some caves but there's never been anything like this before!" Making a clean cut to the soft rotting flesh of a zombie and sending a rough kick into the center of a skeleton, leaving it to collapse into a pile of bones, Tommy turned to Quackity, "Well then what the hell is attracting all of these monstsers?!" The older mage gave a shrug before narrowly avoiding a swing from one of the nearby zombies. He skewered the disgusting thing, cringing a little at the squishy gunk left on his cross guard. Maybe he should've brought a longer sword. He heard the knight yell from over the other side of the cart, "Is this the backlash from your enchantments?" 

Seeing Tubbo send out a blast of electricity from his peripheral vision before turning and saying something, he paused for a moment to shout, "What did you say?" His friend used another spell to knock back the surrounding hostile creatures before repeating, "I don't think so, because then it'd be a lot worse than this." Before he could give the response that much thought, an arrow whizzed by his face, barely missing him and striking the cart. Jolting, he realized that he'd gotten distracted for long enough and that the monsters had begun to close in on him. Gripping his sword tighter, he took out a few undead that had begun tearing at the cart with their rotting hands and dirt covered fingernails. It was too late though, and the sheer number of monsters was beginning to overwhelm him. Panting, he delivered a swift punch to the jaw of a nearby skeleton, sending its skull clattering somewhere in the forest. Tommy turned to try and get rid of another oncoming enemy, but was stopped by a deathly grip on right arm. It was cold, and the cracked fingernails of the zombie dug painfully into his forearm as he tried to yank his sword arm out of its grasp to no avail. 

Flailing wildly to get out of its grip, he couldn't help but panic. The first thing he'd always been taught was to never let one of the undead get a grasp on clothing or, god forbid, himself. His strength would never beat the magical grip of a skeleton or zombie. He fought back a whimper as rotting corpse tried to pull him closer and take a bite. Digging his heels into the ground, he tried his hardest to keep out of range trying hard to get it to let go. He kicked it in the shins, stomped on its toes, and abused its kneecaps but its fingers wouldn't budge. It had no reason to let go, especially when all of its nerves had probably deteriorated long ago. Crying out for help just as he was about to fall to gnashing, cracked teeth, Tommy thought he was about to meet his end.