My Second Life Is An Absurdist Power Fantasy 32 32. Figuring It Ou

Jack tried to react in time, but even with all of his G.o.d-given talent he couldn't fully manage to get out of the way of the tackle, and in his efforts to dodge being taken to the ground managed to turn directly into a swinging gnoll club.

His vision exploded into a sea of stars, and he stumbled backwards, still trying desperately to ward off the flurry of blows being aimed at him.

["You gonna do something? Or are you just gonna stand there and let them swing at you?"] Frumpkin asked, eating something that sounded suspiciously like potato chips.

"I'm doing my best over here!" Jack thought, knocking aside another axe blow.

["No. No you are not."] Frumpkin said matter of factly, letting the words just hang in the air.

"Well what am I supposed to do?!" Jack asked, just barely managing to avoid being skewered by a spear tip.

["You know what you are supposed to do. You did it every day with Rose."] Frumpkin said, taking another crunchy mouthful of whatever he was eating.

"That is completely different! That was practice! And there was only one of her!" Jack said, just barely ducking a swing that would have taken his head clean off.

["...Are you always this whiny? Just do the same thing. Seriously, it'll work. Or you know, don't. What do I care?"] Frumpkin said. ["I'm just trying to help you out here, kid."]

"You know what? Fine. Whatever you say. But if I die from your advice, I want a second chance." Jack said, sidestepping another swing.

["I'll make you a deal, kid- if you die as a direct result of following my instructions perfectly right now, I'll let you try again. But only this once. So don't get used to it."] Frumpkin said.

"Wait, seriously?" Jack asked.

["Yes. For the love of me, do something before I die of boredom over here."]

Doing whatever he could to soothe his nerves, Jack set about trying to figure out how on earth he was going to convince himself he was good enough to win this fight. He just had to believe he was good, and he'd be good, right? Even though he'd already done it before, the idea just felt insanely stupid now that he was in a life or death scenario.

But Frumpkin had just guaranteed that if he screwed it up, he'd get another shot, right? So what did he have to lose?

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and said "Alright, well, here goes nothing..."

The next attack parried by instinct harmlessly to the side, and, channeling the state of mind that he'd learned to use when sparring with Rose, he spun around the deflected attack, planting his feet and bringing the axe up in a forceful chop that caught the attacking gnoll square underneath the chin. The blade caught the creature's furred muzzle and sang clean through without resistance, splitting its face clean in half with a gurgling whimper and a spurt of blood. The gnoll slumped into a furry heap as the other five, seemingly spurred on by the death of their comrade, laid into their attacks with renewed vigor.

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He felt a sudden rush of adrenaline at the turn of events, and this filled him with more confidence, which he channeled. Maybe he could actually do this after all. Maybe. He didn't feel THAT confident. Not yet, anyways.