1.18

The pine forest that the group found themselves in was vastly different from the underground tunnels that had shaped their lives since coming to the tutorial. The trees were tall, for starters, but far from an impenetrable wall. The land was fairly flat, with small inclines here and there that might allow a single person to sneak up on a larger group.

These were the things Harold noted as they broke from the tunnel and entered the field of pine trees. He breathed a sigh of relief, and then breathed once more, just to cherish the fresh air that the surface afforded them.

It was like the feeling of leaving a dark and damp room, to embrace a cool spring breeze. Glorious, if he had to describe it in a word. And familiar, if he had to in three.

That familiarity threatened to drown him. The group itself had not slept since before their final battle with the Black Widows. Now, sleep threatened to take him even as the sun remained high in the sky. He felt safe in a forest like this, and it would be a perfect place to...zzz-

No! He needed a distraction. Harold looked down at his arms, all manners of cuts, scrapes, and bruises lined his body. But he was alive, that would be enough.

More interesting was the fact that most of these wounds had not scabbed. Instead, Harold had bled, and then the wounds had healed themselves incredibly quickly, leaving only a small indentation. Then, minutes later, there would be nothing, not even a scar to mark the wound.

He supposed he had his class to thank for this. The system had been infuriatingly unhelpful in gauging what the rarity of a class could do, much less what a specific class did in the first place, though Harold supposed a metallic constitution was pretty high up on the list of good surprises.

They came to a stop as the group happened upon a large clearing. The notable absence of trees, despite the forest’s clear presence all around was unnerving.

Amber noted it too. “Something is probably here, we should sleep somewhere in the forest, preferably away from the clearing. We’ll revisit it tomorrow.”

He agreed, and their group began collecting materials for a campfire, setting up a shelter at the base of three large pine trees. A ceiling of sticks and leaves to fill the gaps, a wooden wall, and a forest bed. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do.

Asking Rocky to watch their surroundings with his golems, Harold was asleep before his head hit the leaves.

#####

He was awoken by a loud screeching. It jarred him out of a pleasant dream, and put his every sense on high alert. He palmed his weapon, his hammer and his heater shield had been left on either side of his sleeping body, ready to be used at a moment’s notice.

The sounds had been chilling, and had made every hair on his sleeping body stand straight up, such was the psychological toll the cry took.

He stood. “Hey Rocky, did you spot anything? Harold took a few steps out of the small wood and leaf shelter they had built for themselves.

The Rock shook its head, another mannerism that it seemed to have picked up from Harold. He frowned. ‘What could possibly be making such a terrifying sound?’

Warily, but with sleepiness overtaking him once more, he drifted off to-

SCREEEEEEECH

There it was again! Harold bolted upright, grasping his weapons and once again stalking his way out of the shelter.

Nothing materialized in the dark forest. No tree shook with the tremors of a powerful giant, no howling banshee howled out of the shadowy woods. There he stood for the better part of five minutes, Amber having woken up to support him. There they stood until fatigue once again forced them to sleep once more.

He closed his eyes, drifting off to-

SCREEEEEEEEECH

The noise came again. And again. And again. And again.

For several hours they endured this. Waiting, tensed, for something, anything to come burning through the forest to fight them. But nothing ever did. Several cycles of falling asleep and being awoken by the terrible screeching had taught them never to close their eyes, lest they be jolted awake by the hair raising cry.

Harold felt he knew what was happening here. In the hut, he and Amber began forming the beginnings of a plan.

Amber began. “If they’re looking to attack us, then the constant screeching is just to keep us awake long enough that we’re at a disadvantage. If we just get to the clearing it should get better. We can make our stand there without getting ambushed.”

He nodded as another screech broke the air around them. Again, the pair sat in tense silence, hands on their weapons, waiting for the inevitable. The inevitable never came, and they resumed their conversation.

“Next problem, should we move now or in the morning?” Harold asked.

Amber looked thoughtful, then came to a decision. “Now. It has to be now, or we’ll be too weak to move later.” She got up and walked out of the shelter, calling for Rocky to order the spiderling and his golems back.

Hefting his shield, Harold followed after her.

#####

The group made quick time as they traversed the relatively even terrain, the Fang spiderling that they had yet to name scouting ahead for possible threats. Several times, they ran across small warrens of animals, rabbits and the like, who seemed innocent enough.

‘At least not all the wildlife has turned evil.’ Harold mused to himself. They had yet to catch even a glimpse of their foes, not even with the ever-vigilant golems on watch. That alone was unnerving.

He supposed some speculation wouldn’t be awful right about now, in lieu of any actual combat. Perhaps it was a flock of birds? There were very few animals on Earth that could even begin to replicate that kind of screech, but if he had to choose a type. Well, birds were always an option.

A New Yorker at heart, Harold had had his fair share of awful encounters with birds. Whether it be seagulls at the beach or pigeons in the city, he was not the fondest admirer of the avian family tree. Right now, he just hoped that seagull shit wouldn’t be on the menu. They did poop everywhere, after all.

It turned out his musings would be… *half* prophetic.

#####

Onwards they walked, pausing every few minutes to check their surroundings, lest someone sneak up on them using the slight inclines of the mostly flat forest terrain.

They got glimpses now, shadowy figures darting amongst the treetops. Combat in the tunnels had taught them all not to discount the possibility of aerial attacks, so what most parties may have missed was keenly seen by both their spiderling scout and their golem supporters.

It ruled out the birds, at least. Though the large, humanoid shapes that darted through the trees were of little comfort to the beleaguered party as their eyes scanned the treeline. The screeches became more frequent, increasing in volume as they closed in on the party.

Some of their foes were howling now, the cacophony of sounds reaching fever pitch as the party crested the final incline, with their goal now in sight. Undoubtedly, the screeches would have played a much heavier psychological toll on any other group, but Rocky’s aura maintained the relative calm of the group.

Harold still felt some fear however, and still retained the fatigue that had plagued him for the last several hours, piling up as he endured the psychological warfare of these beasts.

They were close now, so close to exiting the forest and entering the clearing. The bubbling brook and wide expanse seemed much more alluring than it had when they first saw it, and it was already incredibly tempting then.

He was tempted to break into a sprint, to just reach the safe haven, but restrained himself. They had to stay together.

The first of the beasts struck from the treetops, diving down from its perch towards him. It howled as it did so, a call that his brethren answered.

Maybe the smart response would have been to just tank the hit with a shield, but Harold could guess at the mentality of these monsters. They would not respect a defender. If they wanted to make it out without sustaining major wounds, their group had to convince these beasts that they were predators, not prey.

To that end, he readied his hammer, holding it just behind him, braced to swing it up as the monster entered his range. Hopefully, gravity would dictate the rest.

The thing was almost on top of him now, nearly close enough for him to strike. The glow of his hammer and Rocky’s green eye finally allowed him to see his foe.

It was akin to a monkey from Earth, an Orangutan perhaps, its teeth bared, screeching at the top of its lungs as it barreled towards him. Its orange coat might have made it cool to him, if not for the sharp, rending claws that it had on either hand.

[Lvl 13 Orangutan Goffe Screamer]

‘Yeah, that’s pretty apt.’ Harold brought his war hammer up in an arc, where it collided with the falling creature's face. From what he could tell, it had died from the blunt force trauma, as the full brunt of gravity and the force behind the hammer knocked his vital organs out of place.

Jaw fractured, ears ringing, the monster was properly out of combat. And just in time too. The ape’s friends were not far behind him, some leaping at them from above, others assaulting them from the ground. All of them rushing the group with as much ferocity as they could muster.

Forming a perimeter, Harold and the three golems protected their backliners, Amber and the spiderling, who would occasionally lash out at any of the beasts that got through their perimeter.

The trees themselves fought for Harold this time, filling in the gaps between him and the golem. The group fought within a small patch of trees, forcing the orangutans to break up their charge, coming through to Harold one or two at a time.

This he could handle. Using his favorite trick, he brought his shield forward in a bash. Then, while the primate was stunned, brought the relatively sharp bottom of his heater shield down, stabbing into the beast’s foot.

It howled in pain, but with no support able to reach it past the trees, the orangutan took the brunt of Harold’s war hammer until it fell over, dead.

Similarly, the golems seemed to have little trouble cracking the skulls of even the largest apes, their hammer blows cracking bone and rupturing skin. They would not tire, and continued to reap a bloody toll from the offending monsters.

The orangutans quickly learned not to jump down at the group, but it was not Harold’s hammer nor the overwhelming strength of the golems that taught them this lesson.

Instead, it was the lone spiderling that kept the leaping apes at bay, cutting into them with a deadly precision that betrayed his young age. He was an expert at scaling, so he perched atop trees as well, waiting for an Orangutan to leap before puncturing its skull with his fangs.

Harold called for Rocky to use his aura skills, spaced and rationed out to make sure that they would last the duration of the fight.

“Fight”

He felt reinvigorated, his energy returning to him faster than he could use it to crush skulls and crack limbs.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a projectile fly out of the darkness. Not towards him, but angled to hit the center of the circle. Amber!

“DUCK!” He shouted. The warning came too slowly, and Amber was immediately covered in some sort of… brown substance? ‘Please tell me that’s not what I think it is.’ Harold desperately hoped that it wasn’t Orangutan feces currently on Amber’s person.

From her scream and the immediate stench, it seemed his first instinct had been right. But instead of the yells of disgust and perhaps vomit he expected to follow. When he turned, he was met with a dazed Amber, looking just about ready to keel over.

‘Of course the shit is a toxin. Why would anything in this tutorial be normal?’ Harold cursed to himself, then screamed towards Rocky. “GET ONE OF YOUR GOLEMS TO CARRY HER INTO THE CLEARING, WE’LL BE RIGHT BEHIND YOU.” The rock nodded, unquestioningly, and directed the golem to carry her out.

The gap was immediately felt by all combatants, as the Orangutans pressed their numerical advantage. Harold’s remaining group meanwhile, had been faced with the problem that there were just too many choke points to hold now, and he gradually began to give ground.

Shield bash, step away. Brain that one, step back. Continuously looking backwards to make sure a wayward tree root wouldn’t spell his demise. The apes refused to let up however, and harassed the group as they fell back.

At the edge of the clearing, he could see Amber and the golem carrying her, already a fair distance ahead of him. Mumbling to himself, he broke into a sprint, closely followed by the two remaining golems and the spiderling, Rocky having followed Amber out of the fight earlier.

‘Why did it have to be shit, the one day where I hoped it wouldn’t be?’ The universe seemed to be mocking him. Or maybe that was just the monkeys, because while they didn’t follow the group into the clearing, he did have to shield himself from a couple volleys of Orangutan poop.