Chapter 24: Five Seconds

“Thud!”

Bloodstained, heavy leather boots slammed onto the soft, damp meadow, splattering bits of mud.

“Damn it… a professional!?”

The fierce-looking buzzcut man panted heavily, his arms swinging wildly like pendulums, the dense bushes retreating rapidly behind him.

“Shouldn’t have trusted that old man’s word—this job nearly cost me my life!”

“Boss, what do we do now?”

Running alongside the fierce man was a burly, dull-faced man.

But now, his face held not just dullness but a thick layer of fear.

“Do? Don’t you see what we’re doing?”

“Running!”

“That kid’s got a serious background. River Valley Town… no, we can’t stay in any towns near Nyum.”

Buzz—

A spinning arrow tore through the air, embedding into the soil by his feet.

From the shadowed woods nearby came the terrifying sound of something moving fast.

Both men flinched, their already frantic steps growing more chaotic, as if a man-eating monster pursued them.

“Crunch!”

Grass and leaves swirled in the air.

The fierce man felt the annoying resistance of omnipresent bushes vanish;

the sunlight, previously blocked by the canopy, blazed suddenly.

The view opened up.

A clearing!?

“Boss, an ambush!”

His lackey’s fearful shout rang in his ears.

His gaze followed, landing on a sharp-featured, black-haired youth.

Though the fierce man vaguely felt a sense of familiarity, he had no time for that now.

Blood surged, vision blurring with gold, the raw emotion of life and death driving his decision in an instant.

“Damn it, just one—take him out! If I’m going down, I’m taking someone with me!”

…

I heard two hurried footsteps from the nearby woods.

Standing, I turned.

Two disheveled men, covered in leaves and grass, burst out.

Time seemed to pause.

The faint, pungent smell of Fire Garlic Vine filled my nose with each breath, the “rustling” of swaying branches in my ears.

My mind raced.

[0.1 seconds]

Seeing them appear, my first instinct was—

Run.

A sudden clearing in dense forest, conspicuous valuable plants, no anomalies found, and the timing right after harvesting Fire Garlic Vine.

All told me these two were ambushers waiting for me.

But then I realized, to escape, I’d have to ditch my heavy pack, filled with Fire Garlic Vine worth over thirty gold coins.

“Reward” versus “risk,” like an invisible scale, weighed heavily in my mind.

[0.2 seconds]

“Is there a way to avoid fighting?”

The thought flashed.

“Talk them down, or offer some profit?”

No, that wouldn’t work!

I was alone; they were two.

Without showing strength, I had no leverage to negotiate.

And their desperate demeanor didn’t look open to talk.

So…

[0.3 seconds]

The sword’s unsheathing grated in my hand.

The heavy pack, worth dozens of gold and cherished moments ago, was now discarded without hesitation.

Battle intent surged.

In that moment, I’d made my choice.

[0.5 seconds]

I stood my ground, watching the two men split to either side.

Planning to flank and attack simultaneously?

This wasn’t a game.

A sword wound didn’t just shave a health bar.

Lose a limb, and you’re crippled for life;

hit the throat, and you die.

Even with a health potion, it couldn’t regrow limbs or raise the dead.

I didn’t know what I was facing.

Driven by survival instinct, my brain frantically analyzed the situation.

One against two is tough.

Since ancient times, those who could parry or counter multiple attacks were master combatants.

Even in my past life’s fantastical kung fu films, heroes split the battlefield, taking foes one by one.

In a flash, I formed a rough battle plan.

Turn a 1v2 into two 1v1s.

[0.7 seconds]

My sharp gaze swept over.

The fierce-looking buzzcut man on the left held an iron sword, focused and swift, clearly a veteran;

the burly man on the right, though stronger-built, moved slower, face flushed and dull, dragging a heavy two-handed hammer.

Target locked.

[1 second]

The sword tip tilted slightly, the hilt’s cold, crisp feel in my palm.

I took my first step forward.

One against two, with both sides wielding lethal weapons capable of a one-hit kill.

I had to take out the first enemy fastest.

Three more steps.

The distance to the dull man closed instantly.

The iron-gray blade glinted in my peripheral.

“Within the longsword’s attack range.”

My right foot stomped, sinking into the soil.

“Whirlwind Slash!”

Power from the earth surged through my soles, gathering strength like a tidal wave, channeling through my body to the hilt via my fingertips.

Buzz—

An iron-gray arc of sharp light carved a half-moon in the air.

“Chopping Master” +5% chopping damage, “Beheading Longsword” +5% beheading damage, and Strength at “6” from attribute boosts.

I swung the fastest sword since transmigrating.

“Screech!”

The heavy hammer was only half-raised when the dull man’s head spun off his shoulders.

[3.5 seconds]

Blinding blood sprayed like a fountain from the empty neck, some splattering my face.

But I felt no disgust.

Because I sensed the biting wind from behind.

No time to retract my sword!

Using the inertia from “Whirlwind Slash,” I spun halfway, pulling the blade back.

Then…

“Clang!”

Sparks flew!

A silver-white blade crashed onto my iron-gray longsword.

Two seconds were enough for the other enemy to close in.

“Thud.”

Behind me, the dull sound of a body collapsing.

The four-foot sword, cherished hours ago and wiped clean of any stain, was now held unsparingly across my chest, blocking the attack.

The sword tip gleamed coldly.

In that moment, I could clearly see the fierce man’s trembling pupils from his teammate’s death, his taut facial muscles from exertion, even flecks of spittle at his mouth.

[4 seconds]

Force clashed through the blades.

I was in a stiff state, old strength spent, new strength not yet gathered.

The fierce man, too, seemed numbed by the blade’s force, arms struggling.

The fight seemed to stall for an instant.

In this moment, the 1-point Agility boost from maxing “Whirlwind Slash” shone.

I regained balance first.

Then, a fierce kick!

The fierce man, struck in the gut, grimaced, his grip loosening.

I stepped back lightly, gaining half a body’s distance.

Then…

[Whirlwind Slash]

An iron-gray arc flashed briefly in the air.

Mixed with red-and-white viscous fluid,

a cleanly cut half-head,

spinning, falling.

Green leaves drifted nearby, settling softly.

From their appearance to the fight’s end,

5.25 seconds total.

…

…

“Huff… huff…”

I panted, my leather armor’s lining soaked with sweat.

Five seconds, barely a deep breath.

Yet enough for a skirmish to start and end.

My heart pounded, head faintly dizzy.

The intense focus from battle returned to reality.

This fight’s pace and pressure felt as intense as facing the bear goblin.

A slight misstep could’ve meant crippling or fatal injury.

Thanks to my predecessor’s perseverance, I maxed [Whirlwind Slash] right after transmigrating, earning rewards that boosted my strength to this level.

The thick blood scent filled my lungs.

Standing there, gazing at the two corpses, left and right, I felt a strange sentiment.

Who’d have thought, ten days ago, I was an office drone who’d never killed a chicken?

Now, I was a “ruthless” adventurer, cutting down two in a breath.

Maybe I really had some “combat talent”?

“Drip.”

Warm, sticky blood fell from the sword tip, staining blades of grass.

I suddenly remembered something.

Raising my beheading longsword, I pulled a cloth from my pocket, wiping the blood off, inspecting especially where it blocked the enemy’s strike.

Then, I sighed in relief.

The attribute panel’s 50% durability boost was no joke.

That clash sparked, yet left only a faint, barely visible scratch, removable with careful maintenance back in town.

“Good, good.”

Though still a bit pained, I accepted the result.

And I cheerfully began cleaning the battlefield.

“Hm… second-hand leather armor only sells for half price, heavy, and not high-end. Can’t even walk with it—pass.”

“The iron sword’s decent, well-maintained. With this hammer, maybe 15 gold?”

“No need for their food supplies, I’ve got enough; compass doesn’t take space, take it; why two shovels…”

“Huh?”

Scavenging the corpses with mixed disgust and glee, my brow twitched.

From the fierce man’s waist, I pulled a bulging coin pouch.

Opening it—

“Tch, tch.”

A gleam of gold.

“Heavier than the bounty pouch from the guild, at least 50 gold,” I muttered, weighing the hefty bag.

“Strange, did these two carry their whole fortune?”

Of course, now corpses, they couldn’t answer.

I didn’t care about the details.

After another thorough search, ensuring nothing was missed,

I shouldered my Fire Garlic Vine-filled pack, eager to leave.

Blood scent attracted danger, a lesson from the Rotten Fish and Shrimp team.

“One gathering mission, a small 80-gold haul.”

“At this rate, I’ll soon afford decent medium armor.”

“Leather armor’s fine, but its defense is lacking.”

As I prepared to leave with my pack,

from the direction the two men came, more hurried footsteps sounded.

My heart jolted.

“Seriously, again?”

But I quickly decided.

Fresh from a deadly fight, unharmed but with aching arms from two [Whirlwind Slash] uses,

my combat strength was down.

I might be reckless at times, but not greedy enough to risk my life.

If the situation looked bad, I’d ditch the pack and looted weapons and run.

With over fifty gold coins from the corpses at my waist, even without a single Fire Garlic Vine, I wouldn’t lose out.

Meanwhile, the rapidly approaching figures emerged from the bushes.

“Bang!”

Branches scattered.

A chubby figure stumbled out.

Realizing the sudden clearing, he crouched awkwardly, striking a comical combat pose.

Following was the vigilant half-elf “Hai’an,” longbow in hand;

and a pale, clearly panicked blonde girl.

Oh, and the low-presence “suspected professional” Wood, always shadowing the half-elf.

Silver hair fluttered, Hai’an gripped his bow, hand on his quiver, ready to draw.

His silver-gray eyes narrowed in the blinding sunlight, scanning the clearing.

The next second, he saw the two cooling corpses on the ground.

His pupils widened slightly.

He looked at me, the only one standing, visibly wary.

“You…”

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