However, I couldn’t do that. In true weakling fashion, I focused my entire being on counting on that one-in-ten-thousand chance.
That was the turning point, I think. This was what my granting magic was based on. I would cast as many buffs of minimal potency on as few places and for as short of time as possible. All while using the least amount of MP. I wouldn’t just succeed, I would make this a success.
“[Pump Up: Zwanzigmal.]”
The buff multiplied my bodily functions by twenty, ten times what I usually cast. The world seemed so slow. I felt like I could take on anything.
I knew my condition to a T. I knew the best action to take and when would be the right time to take it. I felt every sinew in my muscles move with every thousandth of a second. If I continuously matched my buffs to these movements, I would barely expend my MP.
It was like my brain was completely disconnected from the rest of my body, though it perfectly carried out every action the former thought up. I knew exactly what was ideal for my body and continued to match my timing and movements perfectly. One wrong move and my limbs would snap, but at that moment, I felt like that was somebody else’s problem rather than mine.
When my brain accelerated, so did my optic nerve, because they were directly connected. My hearing became fine-tuned as well, and my ability to pick up information reached new heights. I made note of everything I saw and predicted my enemies’ movements. The lights flashed and flickered.
The tentacles rushed me from all directions at once, leaving no openings for me to exploit.
First, I cut through one of the tentacles with my machete to create a momentary escape route, then jumped to the right. The tentacles naturally followed, but I halted my momentum in the air with the recoil from my right leg. It was reckless, but I would be okay. As long as I strengthened the bones and muscles that was bearing the brunt of this action the most for just a fraction of a second, I would remain uninjured. Stopping midair threw the tentacles off course, and they instead flew right by me.
It was as if they were begging to be used as footholds. Their positioning wasn’t quite right, but I could still make it work. I opened my hip joint so wide my right knee was flush to my ribcage and kicked as hard as I could. Under normal circumstances, this would have dislocated the joint, but as long as I toughened the ligament for just a fraction of a moment, I would be fine.
Then, I leaped right between the tentacles, making sure to avoid landing in the water. Instead, I alighted on top of a conveniently placed tentacle, and its tip was already behind me. I stumbled for a moment, but used that momentum to rush forward, scurrying across the tentacle like it was a tightrope.
“Aha ha!”
I had done it! I had accomplished the near impossible!
How many one-in-a-million chances had I already beat? I had lost count, but I wasn’t dead yet. If I was off by just a thousandth of a second—if I made a single lapse of judgment—my bones would fracture, and I would become these tentacles’ punching bag. If I didn’t keep weaving and jumping between them, I would end up in the water, and everything would be over.
So, what’s your next move? More tentacles?
I prepared myself for another onslaught, but the boss began to move differently. I could see the glow of magic, and it seemed to be trying to generate something on the surface of its body.
It was a water blade! Why the heck did it have these and tentacles?
It had to have a plan. It must have realized it was impossible to capture me with its tentacles, which meant this next attack would be fast.
As soon as it took aim, it fired. The blade really was fast and wide. It didn’t rush straight ahead and instead spun in the air with a slight tilt.
Evading wouldn’t be possible. If I could perform a miracle, I could still dodge.
So, dodge it I did. My movements were pure perfection. I visually measured the spin and parried the portion aimed at my neck with my machete. This slightly knocked it off course, and I used that to perform a counterattack against the tentacles I knew were behind it. There was no way I could manage to do this again.
I heard a sound coming from behind me—or really, felt a vibration. I had predicted correctly.
“I can see it! I can see everything! Aha ha ha!”
Before I knew it, I was closing in on the boss. It was huge—as big as a wall. Landing just a single strike on this thing would do about as much damage as a boy trying to level a mountain with a toy shovel.
Suddenly, its movements changed again. The scene of it dodging Camilla’s [Giant Hunter] flashed before my eyes.
He’s gonna jump.
But if it was in the air, that only left it open to attack. My ideas started to scatter, and my thoughts no longer followed any clear path. It felt like my consciousness had derailed from my mind, like I was interrogating my own brain.
The boss spurted out water and jumped into the air. Then, it dived toward me. Are those legs? I guess if this thing is a slug, it technically had feet.
I cut through the air, slashing into its body over and over as if I was trying to dig a hole through it. I carved away all obstructive flesh, seeking a swirling organ inside its body. I could do this. It was still in the air and had more of it to slice into.
I reached its insides in a flash. If I didn’t escape before it hit the ground, the force would crush me.
I would be fine. As long as I didn’t mess up, I would be able to cut through its body.
Find the one chance in thousands!
Facing death only meant you weren’t dead just yet.