The Forest Golem stood like a fortress forged from bark and stone, green veins pulsing faintly along its massive frame. Its massive shoulders slumped forward, as if centuries of standing there had worn it down to a silent sentinel. Moss clung to its arms, and cracks ran across its bark-plated chest. It loomed, unmoving, almost blending into the forest—just standing there, as if daring me to pick the fight I couldn't win.
The air felt heavy with moisture, the kind that seeped into your bones. A mist rolled lazily around us, making the whole thing look like a budget horror scene from a magic school play. If there were ominous violins playing in the background, I wouldn't have been surprised.
I rolled my shoulders, loosening up, and tightened my grip on my sword. Mana Sword would be my best bet here, but with only a two-star core and my mana pool as shallow as a kiddie pool, I'd have to be selective. Too bad I didn't have "selective" in my vocabulary.
"Alright, big guy," I muttered under my breath. "Just you, me, and a very underwhelming mana pool. This should be... enlightening."
The Golem's eyes flickered, eerie and unblinking, glowing like a pair of lanterns lost in a deep forest. Not a single twitch. Not even a polite acknowledgement that I was here to ruin its day.
I swung my sword through the mist, testing its weight. The steel whistled faintly in the still air. The Golem just stared, like an NPC waiting for the player to press the dialogue button. No reaction, no movement.
"Cool, cool. So you're the strong, silent type." I sighed. "Guess I'll make the first move. No pressure, right?"
I shot forward, feet kicking up the mist as I closed the distance in an instant. My heart pounded in sync with the rhythmic hum of mana thrumming through my veins. I aimed directly for the vulnerable-looking joint between two plates of bark covering its chest—a sweet spot if ever there was one. My sword sliced down in a perfect arc, fast and precise.
For a split second, I thought, This might actually work.
Then—
Clang!
The blade bounced off with a metallic screech, the impact reverberating up my arms like I'd just tried to cut through a boulder with a soup spoon. My sword vibrated violently in my grip, and I stumbled back, gritting my teeth against the shock. My fingers went numb. Not great.
"Okay... that was about as effective as bringing a butterknife to an avalanche," I muttered, shaking my hands to restore feeling.
The Golem finally stirred, creaking like a hundred-year-old door swinging open. It raised a massive arm, bark-covered muscles groaning under the strain. And, wouldn't you know it? That arm was now coming directly at me. Fast.
"Uh-oh."
I threw myself to the side just as the Golem's arm sliced through the air with the force of a hurricane. It missed by inches—but not by much. The sheer gust from the swing hit me like a physical blow, knocking me off balance. My feet skidded against the dirt, and before I could catch myself, I was airborne.
I landed with a graceless thud, the impact rattling my bones and driving the air from my lungs. I lay there for a second, blinking up at the canopy, trying to decide which part of my body hurt the most. All of it, apparently.
Pushing myself up on one elbow, I spat out a mouthful of dirt. "First lesson of the day: Don't insult statues that weigh more than a house."
The Golem shifted its weight, turning slowly to face me. Each step it took was like an earthquake, shaking the ground beneath me. I could practically hear the forest whispering, Yeah, you messed up.
I scrambled to my feet, sword still in hand, though my arms felt like they'd been stuffed with wet noodles.
The Golem paused, as if reconsidering whether this was worth the effort. Then it raised its arm again, the same slow, deliberate way someone might stretch before tossing a boulder.
I held my ground, trying to focus. Alright, Lucius. You're gonna need a new strategy—fast. Because clearly, that whole 'hit it hard and hope for the best' thing? Not working.
I scrambled behind the nearest tree, the Golem's heavy footfalls shaking the earth like a warning bell tolling my imminent doom. Time to rethink this whole "hit it hard and hope for the best" strategy.
With a flick of my hand, the Librarian's Tome materialized in a shimmer of light. The leather-bound grimoire hovered just above my palm, pages flicking open like an impatient librarian was on the other side, desperately searching for the right volume. Glowing text scrawled across the parchment in neat, archaic letters.
[Monster Window]
Name: Forest Golem
Age: Ancient
Element: Earth
Combat Style: Brutal Brawler
Strengths: Immense physical strength, forest camouflage
Weaknesses: Vulnerable to fire, slow-moving
I stared at the "Weaknesses" section like it was mocking me.
"Fire. Of course. Why is it always fire?" I groaned, rubbing my temples. I might as well have asked for dragon eggs—both were equally impossible. Fire magic was completely out of my reach, unless I wanted to start a campfire with two sticks and some blind optimism.
My offensive arsenal wasn't exactly inspiring, either. The only spell I had was Elemental Shot, a dark magic projectile that drained a hefty chunk of my mana. And, spoiler alert: with my two-star core, I could only fire it maybe three times before I was gasping like an asthmatic fish.
As for my Mana Sword? It could enhance my attacks, making them stronger and faster—but only for a handful of minutes. After that, I'd be out of mana and left holding a glorified stick. And without mana, my swordsmanship—while impressive—wasn't enough to chop through solid rock and bark.
This fight was going to hurt. A lot.
I exhaled through my nose, muttering to myself, "Alright, Lucius, so Plan A's a bust. That leaves us with... uh... Plan B: Be clever or die trying."
The Golem's heavy footsteps thudded closer, the ground trembling under its weight. I could hear the creak of bark grinding against stone, like the forest itself was stretching to crush me. It wasn't fast, but it didn't have to be. If I didn't figure this out soon, I'd be forest mulch.
I glanced at the Tome again. Vulnerable to fire... Yeah, no dice there. But slow-moving? That was something. It was all about picking the right weakness—and making it work.
A grin tugged at the corner of my mouth. "Alright, big guy. Let's see if I can teach you the difference between 'slow and steady' and 'dead and buried.'"
I needed to be smart—leverage my sword skills while conserving magic for when it truly mattered. Brute force wasn't an option, but the Golem's slow movement was my ticket to survival.
I smirked despite the rising tension. "Alright, big guy. Time to show you why cardio matters."
With a burst of adrenaline, I sprinted from behind the tree, swinging my sword wide to grab its attention. It lumbered after me, the ground quaking beneath its heavy steps like a drum signaling the approach of doom.
"Come on, keep up!" I shouted, darting between the trees. My goal wasn't escape; I needed to wear it down and force it to overextend, like a giant toddler throwing a tantrum.
The Golem crashed through the forest, smashing trees like they were mere matchsticks, each impact reverberating in my chest. I danced just ahead of it, firing off Elemental Shots in quick bursts to irritate it—each shot a precious sliver of mana disappearing faster than my resolve.
I felt the familiar tug of exhaustion threatening to drag me under. This is going great. Only three spells in, and I'm already halfway to passing out.
Finally, I spotted a patch of dry leaves and branches—exactly what I needed. Skidding to a stop, I kicked the debris into a pile, my heart racing as I sent my last Elemental Shot hurtling toward it.
Fwoosh! The branches ignited in an instant, flames licking up the sides and spreading like wildfire. The fire roared to life, a vivid contrast to the forest gloom, but I didn't have time to savor the moment. The Golem stumbled back, its glowing eyes narrowing in confusion as the flames danced hungrily, the heat palpable even from where I stood.
Now or never. The pressure surged within me, a mix of panic and determination. It was a race against time—could I outsmart a giant, rocky monster before it turned the forest into my grave?
The Golem hesitated, its green veins flickering erratically as the fire took hold. Its bark crackled and splintered, the heat drying out its wooden armor, transforming it from a towering menace into an anxious bonfire.
"Oh, you really don't like that, huh?" I grinned, the adrenaline surging through me. "Looks like somebody skipped Fire Safety 101."
As it stomped around, trying to smother the flames with its massive feet, every step only spread the fire further. The heat slowed it down, its joints groaning like ancient gears struggling to turn. The once-imposing Golem now resembled a giant in a dance-off with a particularly rowdy campfire.
This is my opening.
Summoning my mana sword, I felt the familiar surge of power flow into the blade, its faint glow reminding me that my reserves were dwindling. I had mere minutes—maybe less—before my magical boost flickered out, leaving me as defenseless as a turtle on its back.
"Alright, time to end this."
With newfound determination, I dashed in close, my heart racing as I targeted the weak point: the green veins exposed at its knee joint. My sword sliced downward in a fluid arc, the mana-infused edge cutting through bark and stone like a hot knife through butter.
The Golem groaned, its leg giving way and sending it crashing to one knee with a thundering crash that shook the ground.
"Not bad," I muttered, taking a breath to steady myself. I might actually pull this off.
Just as I thought I'd finally won, a surge of energy coursed through the Golem. Its veins pulsed brighter, and cracks in its bark began to seal themselves, the damaged joint snapping back into place with a horrifying crunch that sent a chill down my spine.
"You've got to be kidding me," I groaned, wiping the sweat from my brow. "Since when do lawn ornaments come with auto-repair?"
The Golem roared, a sound that echoed like a challenge, and charged at me, faster than before. I barely managed to roll out of the way as its massive arm smashed into the ground where I'd just been standing, sending dirt and debris flying.
But my moment of victory had just turned sour. My mana sword flickered—and then died, the once-glorious weapon now as useless as a soggy matchstick.
"Perfect. No spells, no mana sword. This day just keeps getting better," I muttered, scrambling to my feet as panic clawed at my chest.
Panting, I retreated, my mind racing to conjure up a plan—any plan—to stay alive. The fire had slowed the Golem down, but not nearly enough. Now, with my mana gone and my sword flickering out like a dying star, I was fresh out of tricks.
Just when I thought things couldn't get worse, I heard it: a low rumble, deep within the forest, a sound like an angry stomach growling after an all-you-can-eat buffet. Something massive was stirring, and whatever it was, it wasn't going to send me a greeting card.
"Oh great. As if one oversized tree monster wasn't bad enough. What's next? A lumberjack with a vendetta?" I quipped, trying to keep my spirits up even as dread coiled tightly in my chest.
The Golem stomped forward, relentless and unyielding, its fiery rage somehow amplifying its size. It loomed over me, the firelight casting eerie shadows across its bark, making it look even more terrifying—if that were possible.
I kept moving, weaving through the trees, hoping to put some distance between me and my relentless pursuer. Each thunderous footfall reverberated in my bones, a constant reminder that I couldn't afford to stop.
"Running is always Plan B," I muttered, realizing I had no choice but to embrace my inner coward. I could feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins, turning my fear into fuel. With every step, I focused on staying one leap ahead of the Golem's grasp.
But the rumble grew louder, and I glanced back, my heart sinking. The Golem wasn't the only danger in the forest—whatever was coming next could make my current predicament feel like a walk in the park.
As I ducked beneath a low-hanging branch, I silently cursed my luck. Maybe I'd make it through this day after all—if I could survive long enough to turn my bad luck into a legendary story.