Races: Online

Chapter 7: One Bottle Of Beer, Two Bottles of Beer!

Han Jing opened his eyes to see the worn lines on the lumberjack's face, the man standing tall but also worn out. The axe's handle that the man held was slightly old from continuous use.

"Han?" The grandma's voice prodded him, his attention swerving to the old lady at the saloon. "What are you going to do, dear?"

Squak!

Their voices began to overlap around him—what was happening? Why was he—? But he immediately lunged towards the saloon. "Give me the beers!" He cried out.

"Get inside son! You too Jack! We have to wait this out." Grandmother Moe reasoned out with a shaking of her head but it was no avail. 

They really couldn't wait this out—only destruction awaited them. 

"Tom!" Han swerved to the boy inside the bar. "I...I have a plan!"

"Here ya go Big Bro!" Tom pushed out a crate filled with shiny liquor bottles.

He couldn't carry—Han stooped towards the box and picked it up. He immediately ran away from them and into the swarm of Gargoyles.

"Oi! Don't pick on some old fart!"

Some of them seemed to have gotten interested in the old man lying around the debris of a fallen house. "Here's a little taste of beer basted human!" He shook the bottle and threw it at them, an explosion of liquid and glass shards erupting around the Gargoyles.

"You ugly mugs! Look over here!" Han called out and tossed another bottle from the crate, hitting one across their head. "You good for nothing lump of stones!" He had to taunt them away.

A few of them were turning their heads at him, but the others were still messing around with the debris.

It wasn't working fast enough.

"HAH! WANNABE GRIFFINS!" He shouted and threw a bottle in front of him to draw their attention. "COME AND GET—"

The Gargoyles released a large piercing shriek in unison and then dove towards him. The random comparison worked too well!

Han stumbled onto the ground, quickly backing away before he yanked himself to his feet and ran away. "Hurry up!" He yelled to them or to himself, feeling a volley of shrapnels fly right past him. The stones dug themself in some stray posts, riddling them with holes akin to bullet holes.

A hot searing pain erupted in his back, a warm gushing liquid that felt all too real. His vision blurred as he zigzagged past the wreckage of the village houses and shops, his legs burning in agony.

He glanced back to see that a large portion of them had followed him, grabbing for a bigger bottle of liquor he felt a smooth stick in the box. Pulling it out, it looked far from a dynamite… it was a flare stick.

Striking it against one of the rough patches of the crate, it began to engulf in a bright light.

"OI!!" He yelled out, his throat tasted like blood.

Make it glow brighter, make it glow brighter. He chanted to himself. "Somebody light this up!!!"

And it did.

His vision was engulfed in a blindingly pure white for a moment until his vision returned, just enough to see the familiar curves of the old shack at the edge of the cliff.

The jerkass guy from earlier was right, his house was going to fly off into the waters.

Along with him that is.

He had dropped off his Scythe when he carried this crate but at least he was going to go out with a bang. Reaching the tip of the cliff, he whirled around to face the Gargoyles. One hand cradling the now lighter crate into his chest while the other held up the glowing stick.

He moved the stick into his mouth, biting it in between his teeth. Han pulled out another bottle, frantically shaking it to throw it at them.

Both heels were at the edge.

This was stupid but it somehow worked.

He couldn't even make a line of rhetoric now.

The bottle flew across the Gargoyles, exploding into a small fizzle of glass and alcoholic liquid. It drenched the creatures before absorbing the liquid quickly, seeping in its stony skin.

Did Gargoyles have functioning taste buds? Could they get drun—

Those were his thoughts before the Gargoyles dove towards him. He took a step back and felt the wind rush and ring in his ears.

He was flying—dropping into the churning waters that awaited him at the end, the sight of the Gargoyles swooping down for him. He forgot to check or remember if there were sharp stones in the water but either way he was a goner—Until torrents of waters crashed with the Gargoyles, pulling them into the deepest waters before they could even prey on him. 

Han's body was last to drop into the waters. And they accepted his presence.

.

.

.

[ Races: Online Universal Chat server sixty-nine]

"I almost got the noob!" Somebody raged.

Another responded with a laughing emoji and the words, "There, there, big guy. You could have gotten him some other way you know?"

"It's funny how spot on the guy was with the Gargoyle and Griffin comparison hahaha!"

"I should have used less sensitive monsters." The Being tsked. "Or maybe if SOMEBODY didn't decide to interfere. Who was that?"

"I was only observing."

"He wasn't supposed to activate his magic too soon, he was a noob! So somebody unlocked his magic or purposely lit up the flare with a [Taunting Enchantment]. Did you do it you pointy-ears?"

"What? Why me?! This foul creature is accusing me of nonsense."

"Well, our friend has a point. You're the closest one to make direct interference."

"Aw, come on! Just because I'm staying at the Enchanted Forest doesn't mean I'm going to help out some human!"

"Well, who was the water Being that helped the guy and wiped out my Gargoyles?" 

"Do you really think that they'd just pop here to say it to your face? Nobody's that stupid."

"I'm betting that the Siren just wants to consume his heart."

"They can't control the waters that well...did Undie?"

A squid emoji appeared in the group chat. It was a cute squid with a smiling reaction.

"Oh! So it was you?" Somebody was dumb enough to react after that.

A thumbs up was the next response.

The Others paused for a moment, holding their communication devices but not replying. Some of them couldn't help but hope that the poor human would be alright.

It would have been better if he got entangled with someone else.

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