Chapter 54: A Manly Struggle
’Tsk’
Time slowed down for Arthur. Without panicking, he quickly turned around and stared at the mouth of the wolf pouncing toward him. Everything happened so fast that he didn’t have time to reach for his sword or hidden daggers. Nevertheless, he reacted instantly, without hesitation, and punched the wolf with his bare hand.
A hand of flesh and blood against a gaping maw full of fangs, his reckless move seemed like madness. Even Novarian, who was observing the situation from a different angle, confirmed how insane the strike was and considered it an act of desperation.
’It’s useless.’
The thought crossed his mind swiftly, but what he witnessed next made his eyes widen in shock. As Arthur’s fist neared the ferocious wolf’s mouth, he suddenly altered the direction of the strike, opened his hand, and—strangely—shoved his fingers into the wolf’s nose.
It was so unexpected and bizarre that the wolf itself let out a strange sound and stared at the human before it with frightened eyes, as if looking at some kind of pervert. But Arthur didn’t care. With a cold expression, he pressed hard on the wolf’s nose with tremendous force, causing it to collapse to the ground and yelp like an injured dog. The nose was a highly sensitive organ for many animals, making it an easy weak point to exploit.
Although the attack seemed to take a long time, it had, in reality, lasted only a few fractions of a second. Without stopping, Arthur resumed running. Several beasts were behind him, and even that brief moment he used to get the wolf off him was enough for some of them to catch up. But this time, he acted preemptively. He drew his sword and, in one swift and forceful motion, slashed with such smoothness that he preserved his momentum.
His wild swing struck a monkey running alongside him. Though it wasn’t a lethal blow, it was enough to make the creature stop and scream in fury.
And so Arthur continued his struggle, fighting the beasts, defending himself by any means necessary. He kicked with his feet, punched with his fists, headbutted, slashed with his sword. Within a single minute, he had injured ten beasts, with varying degrees of damage, some ceased their pursuit, others slowed. Throughout the fight, he didn’t use the magical artifact and relied on only three skills: Logical Analysis, which kept his thoughts clear enough to prioritize threats; Swordsmanship, and Photographic Memory, which allowed him to recall crucial information at just the right moments.