Dream

For a second, Montu just wished to beat the crap out of the system.

He said in his mind to the system 'Thanks for letting me know that my life is in danger. I thought they were coming to worship me here. You helped me a lot when you told me about it. I am indebted to you.'

Trapped, surrounded, he knew survival hinged on speed, not defiance. He roared a command, the words ripped from his throat, "Hobgoblin, break through their line! We fight our way out!"

The hobgoblin, removing the spear piercing his chest, obeyed. He slammed into the bandit horde, a battering ram carving a path through their ranks. Montu followed, adrenaline masking the searing pain in his wounds. He dodged slashing blades, parried thrusting spears, a whirlwind of desperate movement.

He emerged from the fray, bruised and bleeding, the hobgoblin a bloody, stumbling warrior behind him. They sprinted towards the cave entrance, a beacon of hope amidst the encroaching darkness.

The bandit leader bellowed behind them while picking up the spear, eyes burning with fury, "Don't let them escape! They die here!"

Montu's world exploded in crimson. Each searing slash from the bandit's blade chipped away at his remaining life. His HP plummeted, a stark reminder of the precarious ledge he teetered on.

HP=190/410

'Why does this scene feel so familiar to me? It's like I lived this very moment before when I have never been here before.' Montu was thinking while running.

The bandits were wolves nipping at their heels, their guttural shouts echoing through the dense forest. Their arrows, once a rain of death, were silenced by the treacherous terrain, replaced by the rhythmic crunch of boots pounding the earth. He could almost feel their hot breath on his neck, the glint of their blades mere heartbeats away.

One of the bandits reached Montu with his sword and slashed at his left hand.

The blade went deep inside the hand and it cut through the bones of Montu's hand but not enough to sever the arm from his hand. The hand was hanging now with the help of some flesh on his shoulder.

"System!" he screamed in his mind, desperation turning his voice into a ragged plea. "Don't you see? We both die if I fall! Do something!"

A caustic reply crackled back, laced with disdain.

[Why isn't the host using the quick steps skill? Doesn't want to use his brain, wants me to do the dirty work?]

Rage burned through Montu. He cursed the system, then activated the skill with a clenched fist. A surge of power coursed through him, his legs driven by a desperate need to outrun death. He put distance between himself and the bloodthirsty pack, a flicker of hope rekindled in his hollow eyes.

But hope, like a fragile flame, is easily extinguished. A spear, launched with venomous intent, pierced his chest, pinning him to the unforgiving earth. His consciousness flickered, his thoughts as scattered as leaves before a hurricane.

HP=100/410

His mind, never truly functional for a zombie, succumbed to the weight of his injuries. The world turned to a bloody haze, the shouts of his pursuers a muted dirge in his ears.

He wasn't able to think straight about how to escape from his situation anymore. Montu just wished for a miracle to happen and somehow save him.

He dreamt of miracles, of divine intervention, something to snatch him from the jaws of oblivion. But his mind stat, pitifully low, couldn't muster the strength to fight the tide of despair. He was adrift in a sea of despair, his once-undying body riddled with wounds, his thoughts fragmented whispers escaping into the void.

While he was pinned down to the ground by the spear he was presented with some additional sword slashes as the bandits caught up to him.

HP=63/410

He was just a few strikes away from eternal slumber. He was not in a  condition anymore to even control the hobgoblin with his mind.

Then, salvation arrived in the form of a hulking beast. The hobgoblin, freed from Montu's control, rampaged through the ranks of bandits like a bull.

He was doing a better job now compared to when he was controlled by Montu as his own beastly instincts were suppressed which were released now.

His sword carved a bloody path, a symphony of bone meeting steel echoing through the woods. His loyalty, unfettered by Montu's influence, burned even brighter in the face of their shared peril.

With a ferocious roar, the hobgoblin reached Montu, severing the spear pinning him down. He scooped up the nearly lifeless Montu in his arms, his guttural growls filled with a savage protectiveness. They melted into the verdant embrace of the forest, leaving behind a trail of carnage.

But the forest, while a temporary haven, wasn't a true escape. The bandits, driven by greed and fury, followed hot on their heels, splitting into a hunting party, determined to flush out their quarry. Montu, lying inert in the hobgoblin's arms, felt the tendrils of death wrap around him once more. His regeneration, a level 1 whimper against the ferocity of his wounds, couldn't keep pace with the encroaching darkness.

As the hobgoblin battled tirelessly, a vision shimmered into Montu's blurry awareness.

A battlefield bathed in crimson, a red-haired boy wielding twin blades of emerald and ruby, commanding a vast army of the undead against demon lords. The clash of steel and the screams of the damned filled the air, a dance of power and destruction. This boy, so familiar yet unknown, wielded immense power, his anger a hurricane tearing through the battlefield.

He was fighting the demon lords Desmon and Azaael with his unbelievably huge army of undead comprising all sorts of zombies and strange creatures. Even the army of the two demon lords combined was being pushed back by a single boy's army and he himself was holding back the demon lords. He was even gaining an edge on them.