Your Commander-in-Chief – Chapter 190

A reckless melee attack without regard for the body.

Reacting to that attack wasn’t particularly difficult.

I quickly unsheathed the katana strapped to my waist and swung it threateningly toward the approaching opponent.

Swoosh!

The katana left a faint afterimage as it barely grazed the opponent’s face.

I furrowed my brows. It didn’t have the speed I was expecting.

It felt as if I was weighed down by heavy sandbags attached to my whole body.

Of course, it made sense. This wasn’t Deron.

There were no additional stats gained from my equipment, and no stats boosted by skills either.

The attack missed.

The moment I realized that, I had to roll on the ground.

“Whoa!”

Crunch!

The Viking charging at me swung his dual axes down onto the spot where I had just been.

If my reaction had been even a moment slower, my head would’ve been split by his axes.

“Don’t run away!”

Throwing a new player in with an opponent right off the bat isn’t how it usually works. Typically, you’d get AI matches until you get used to the game, right?

“Ugh!”

Before I could even think about getting up from the ground, I rolled again.

Dust billowed around me, filling my eyes and mouth, but I couldn’t show any weakness.

It was due to the Viking furiously swinging his axe at an alarming speed as he chased me.

“Hahaha!”

It wasn’t until I rolled on the ground about three more times that I finally caught my breath and faced my opponent.

Looking around, I saw that our team was scattered, each engaging in their own battles.

That meant no one was coming to help me.

“Ha…”

“It looks like I sacrificed my strength stat and invested everything into agility. Not a good choice…”

The Viking approached with a wicked grin.

I swallowed hard and set my stance.

There was nothing to be afraid of. He was on equal conditions with me.

If I just stayed calm, he wasn’t unbeatable.

“Gwah!”

At that moment, the Viking user charged at me again.

Even if the game had changed, my talent remained the same.

Acceleration of thought.

As the white pain consumed my head, everything around me began to slow down.

My thigh muscles were swelling painfully, and my reddened eyes were locked onto him.

His gaze was sharp, as his axe aimed right at my head.

Calmly, just as I had before.

Just like in Deron.

I took a step forward.

Thud—

The moment my body moved, time began to flow again.

The change brought about by that single step had significant results.

The distance that had seemed far vanished in an instant as I closed in on him.

“Uh…?”

A dimwitted voice spilled from his lips as he staggered above me.

His axe was slicing through nothing but open air.

Now’s my chance.

My hand moved quickly, drawing the katana from its sheath.

Swish!

A flash of blue light erupted from my fingertips as the blade narrowly skimmed the opponent’s neck.

The sensation on my fingertips was vivid. I had indeed scratched him.

However, the opponent’s neck wasn’t severed.

“Guh!”

The moment I realized that, his hand moved, swinging the axe at me.

But the sharpness it once held was no longer present.

Thud!

The axe fell on my shoulder, creating a heavy impact as I swung my sword again.

After the first strike, the second cut followed smoothly like water.

Swish!

“Th-this…”

The Viking’s words never finished.

His trembling body lost strength as he knelt down.

His trembling hands released the axe as it fell from his grip.

“Gah…”

I had just secured my first kill since starting the game.

But my expression wasn’t pleasant.

I realized just how much of an injustice my lack of strength stat had caused.

I had accurately struck with the initial slice. But the opponent didn’t fall.

It was because I lacked the strength to completely sever his neck. Even then, he managed to counterattack.

Eventually, I ended it with my second strike, but it still didn’t decapitate him.

The attack to a vital spot had exhausted all of his health instead.

At that moment, the kill score at the very top of the game screen started to climb rapidly.

Seeing the indicators that our team had died and that the opposing team had also fallen simultaneously meant we had managed to take each other down.

I cautiously surveyed the situation and moved carefully.

Just because I successfully killed my opponent didn’t mean it was all over.

I needed to capture the area before my fallen opponent respawned.

At that moment, I caught a glimpse of the kind knight user flying through the air.

His shimmering full plate mail was severely dented, and the sword he had been wielding was sent flying far away.

“Whoa!”

The one engaging our knight user was a massive butcher character.

The monstrous figure, born solely for strength stats, seemed to be about 2 meters tall.

The armor draped over him was incredibly thick, resembling a tank charging through the battlefield.

What about the huge club he wielded? It looked as if it had ripped a steel column out of a building, incredibly long and thick.

Thud— thud— thud—

Was his large build a penalty? His running speed was painfully slow.

The knight lying on the ground was trying to flee but seemed unable to get up due to some functional impairment.

This game is a team game. Ignoring a team in crisis means you can’t win.

I dashed quickly toward the gigantic butcher.

“Hiya!”

While running, I realized something. This butcher character was someone I couldn’t defeat.

The shining armor didn’t expose its wearer’s skin.

I couldn’t slice or stab. To take him down, I would have to whack him senseless with sheer force.

Yet, I still wielded my katana.

The katana swiftly emerged from its sheath, unleashing a blue slash.

Clang!

The katana’s meager blade struck against the thick armor but, as expected, didn’t deal any meaningful damage.

However, the butcher’s gaze turned toward me.

“Die, fatso!”

I was used to provoking opponents.

This was always my tactic in Deron — taunt and then flee to incite my enemies’ anger.

“F-fatso…?”

Clang clang!

I circled around the slowly moving butcher, continuing to strike at him with my katana.

I was frustrated. Really frustrated to the point of wanting to scream.

If it were Deron, I could dodge such attacks easily for hours, but in this game, there was a stat called stamina.

The faster and more aggressively I moved, the more tired and heavier my body became.

I was starting to lose my breath.

But that was the same for my opponent.

The speed at which he wielded that club began to drop.

“This… this punk…!”

Heaving heavily,

Huff, huff—

Listening to his labored breaths felt like I could smell the hot sweat wafting from his body.

That’s when it happened.

Bang!

“Gah!”

A loud crash echoed behind the butcher as his enormous body swayed.

Our paladin user had arrived and was mercilessly swinging his flail.

Bam! Bang! Bam!

“Stop it… ugh…”

The butcher user struggled to escape the situation, but the paladin user showed no mercy.

At that moment, the flail swung wide and knocked the butcher user’s helmet off.

Boom!

Now! Instinct kicked in and told me.

This was a perfect opportunity to finish him off.

With the butcher user’s focus diverted to our paladin, I dashed forward and leaped up.

Maybe it was due to my relatively light body. Or perhaps it was thanks to my heavily invested agility stat. My jumping ability exceeded my expectations.

But even so, it wasn’t enough.

I used my legs to bounce off the butcher user’s body for another leap.

With two jumps, my perspective elevated.

To fight effectively, height and reach were vital.

Seeing things from a higher vantage point allowed me to understand so much more than I could crouching low.

No more distractions.

I quickly drew my katana and held it in a reverse grip.

Not a stance for swinging, but for a downward strike.

After a brief moment in the air, my body descended.

Bringing the reversed katana down, I aimed for the butcher user’s mouth.

Crunch!

The long blade of the katana slid down effortlessly.

I found myself sitting atop the butcher user’s shoulder.

In that position, I began to stab wildly.

Scratch— scratch—

A strong sensation made its way through my fingertips.

The butcher user, who had been glaring at me with widened eyes, could utter no words before collapsing to the ground.

Thud!