Surviving The Beast World With My 'Sassy' System

Chapter 87: Bloody Fight (II)

The second predator swept a massive paw toward his temple from the right. Mirek snapped his left arm up to meet the blow, the impact vibrating through his shoulder. He absorbed the shock without ceding an inch of ground. Seizing the opening, he stepped into the creature’s guard and raked his right claws across its exposed flank.

The tips carved deep furrows into the muscle, forcing the beast to recoil with a pained roar as dark red vital fluid began to soak its hide.

A third beast attempted to hobble him, snapping at his shins. Mirek yanked his foot back, the jaws clicking shut on empty air, and immediately slammed his heel down onto the predator’s snout. The force of the stomp cracked the bone against the unyielding plateau.

Before the creature could pull away, Mirek plunged his claws into its shoulder, puncturing the dense muscle to pin it in place before tearing his hand free.

The fourth and fifth beasts closed in simultaneously from his flanks. Mirek pivoted on the ball of his scorched foot, spinning into the narrow gap between their lunges. He twisted his torso to let the high-aiming strike whistle over his shoulder while driving his knee into the lower attacker’s jaw.

The snap of the jaw closing preceded his follow-up: a twin-handed thrust into the beast’s chest. His claws bypassed the ribs, sinking deep into the chest cavity. He tore upward, the jagged motion disrupting the heart. The creature’s limbs stiffened for a heartbeat before it went limp, sliding off his hands as he withdrew them.

The remaining predators froze, their instinctive coordination shattering at the sight of their fallen kin. A guttural, mournful roar erupted from the survivors, and their movements turned from calculated hunting to frantic, feral rage.

They charged again, faster and more reckless.

Mirek met the third beast’s charge head-on. As it snapped at him, he drove a heavy elbow down onto its snout, forcing its head toward the dirt. As it passed beneath him, he dragged his claws along the length of its spine, opening the hide from neck to haunch.

The fourth beast struck from the side, but Mirek deflected the limb with a forearm block and rotated his body. His claws sliced the creature’s forelimb, severing the tendons and rendering the leg useless.

The fifth beast lunged at his back. Mirek sensed it and spun with lethal speed. His arm moved in a wide, horizontal arc. The claws caught the beast’s throat mid-air, sinking through the thick, pebbled skin.

He didn’t let go; he twisted his wrist and continued the rotation, using the beast’s own weight to tear the wound wide. Blood splattered across Mirek’s face and chest, matting his long red hair as it swept behind him.

The final two beasts attempted a desperate, unsteady lunge. Mirek didn’t give them the chance to reset. He parried a stray claw, stepped into the reach of the nearest predator, and drove his hand straight through its chest. He ripped his arm free and whirled on the last one, burying his claws deep into its throat. He held the beast there for a second, feeling its pulse flutter and fade against his fingertips, then cast it aside.

Silence returned to the wasteland. Mirek stood among the cooling carcasses, his chest rising and falling in heavy, rhythmic heaves. Blood dripped from his claws, hissing as it touched the scorched ground and evaporated into a copper-scented mist.

The air remained stagnant.

The heat did not lessen.

Which meant the trial was not over.

Time passed.

Not long, but enough.

Then another shape appeared in the distance.

Mirek’s eyes lifted for a brief moment.

A second group approached.

Six more beasts approached, their frames leaner and more whip-like than the previous group. Their skin stretched tightly over muscle, and their movements were quick even from a distance. Before they fully entered his range, Mirek could already see the difference in how they moved.

They closed the distance quickly.

Mirek adjusted his stance, but before he could fully reposition, two leaped from the front while the others flanked him.

He was immediately forced into a desperate defense. He parried a set of claws aimed at his eyes, but the movement left his ribs exposed to a secondary strike from a beast below.

A jagged set of teeth sank into his thigh, and he felt the hot iron sting of a claw raking across his shoulder. Blood poured from the fresh slashes, but the intense heat of the wasteland caused the wounds to dry and crust over almost as soon as the fluid hit the air.

The sensation was like having salt rubbed into an open flame, the parched air tightening the broken skin until every movement felt like it was tearing him apart further.

He gritted his teeth and focused on the closest attacker, catching it mid-lunge and snapping its neck with a brutal twist of his hands. With one beast dead, the pressure eased just enough for him to transition from defense to offense.

He used his experience from the previous fight to predict their patterns, catching the fast-moving predators as they committed to their leaps. He slammed his fist into their skulls or tore through their throats with his claws until the last of the six lay motionless.

Mirek stood alone in a field of eleven carcasses. His breathing was a ragged, each breath dragging through his throat. Heat escaped his mouth in visible waves, mixing with the air around him.

His body was a map of crimson stains and jagged welts, each one sending a sharp pulse of pain directly to his brain.

His muscles trembled slightly, but he remained standing.

He wiped the blood from his eyes as he lifted his head and looked toward the horizon.

Time passed.

Then more came.

Seven this time.

These were even larger, their muscles rippling with a power that exceeded his own. The battle that followed was a grueling grind of attrition.

Mirek fought through a haze of exhaustion, his movements growing heavy. During a frantic exchange, a massive jaw clamped onto his left shoulder joint. He heard the sickening pop of the bone and the tear of ligaments. When it pulled back, his arm twisted unnaturally.

He forced himself forward, managing to kill the beast by plunging his right claws into its eye, but his left arm now hung uselessly at his side, dangling by threads of muscle and skin while blood pulsed from the mangled socket.