6. Back to Basics

The electric blue lightning danced along Jack’s rune-etched machete as he surged forward, his figure a blur against the grim, twisted forms of the Arachnae warriors lurking in the redwoods. The blade’s hum sharpened into a predatory growl that seemed to cut through the air itself as he swung it toward the nearest creature. The edge sliced clean through the chitinous armor covering its underside, sending a shudder of satisfaction through Jack’s arm as the weapon bit deep, and the creature let out a screech of agony. Ichor splattered across his face, warm and acrid, and he barely registered the smell.

The creature twisted, multifaceted eyes narrowing in fury as it lurched forward. Its pincer slashed in a swift counterattack, the lethal arc narrowly missing Jack’s shoulder as he ducked, feeling the rush of air as it whipped past. Another flash - the creature’s claw-tipped foreleg jabbed toward him with deadly precision.

Jack sidestepped, his movements fueled by adrenaline and instinct, swinging his machete in a wide arc that severed the creature’s claw in a single stroke. The Arachnae warrior hissed, its stance faltering as its balance was thrown off. Jack grinned, enjoying the momentary look of confusion in the creature’s eyes.

“Not used to someone fighting back, huh?” he taunted, shifting his grip on the machete as he targeted the warrior’s joints. "Guess that fancy armor doesn’t feel so invincible now, does it?"

The creature’s response was a screech, its remaining limbs flailing in a desperate attempt to strike. But Jack moved faster, systematically breaking down its defenses with each swing. He could feel the rhythm of the fight, his strikes landing with a brutal precision honed from countless battles. His focus was sharp, each move calculated as he disassembled the warrior piece by piece, leaving only its venomous stinger thrashing uselessly.

With a final, powerful swing, Jack cleaved through the creature’s head. The severed head hit the forest floor with a dull thud, a faint sizzle marking where the runes had sliced clean through. Jack took a deep breath, his chest heaving as he looked around. The soldiers nearby had stopped, staring at him, expressions of shock and awe frozen on their faces.

“Get ahold of yourselves!” Jack shouted, snapping them out of their stupor. “You’ve never seen monsters from another dimension before? Go grab some fire and burn these bastards!”

One soldier blinked, muttering, “He’s… actually doing it.” But Jack was already moving, charging forward, his focus fixed on the next wave of Arachnae warriors.

Behind him, he heard the soldiers finally spring into action, scrambling for flamethrowers and incendiary grenades. He didn’t stop to look back, but he could feel the battle shifting, the sense of urgency rising as fire and shouts mixed with the clash of weapons against the armored Arachnae.

A soldier flung a grenade at a warrior tearing apart a Humvee. The explosion lit up the creature’s metallic exoskeleton, igniting it in flames. The Arachnae shrieked and staggered, retreating back toward the dungeon’s gaping mouth, the flames clinging to it in hungry tendrils.

Nice work, Jack thought grimly, turning his attention back to his own fight as he plunged deeper into the fray.

He cut his way through warrior after warrior, his movements fluid and relentless. He stopped aiming for quick kills, instead focusing on disabling the creatures, slicing through their legs and leaving them flailing helplessly on the ground. The battlefield around him was soon littered with twitching, legless Arachnae, their bodies writhing and thrashing in frustration.

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He was like a whirling dervish. And as he fought, a surprising realization entered his mind.

As he fought, he noticed something strange - I haven’t used any actual skills or abilities yet, he marveled.

He tried to activate Shadow Step - nothing. Reaver’s Rage - empty. He tried again, summoning the familiar surge of mana, but it was like he’d forgotten how to tap into it, as if his connection had simply gone numb. Each attempt fizzled out, leaving him with only his physical skills and brute strength.

“Guess it’s back to basics,” he muttered under his breath, adjusting his grip on the machete as he locked eyes with the next charging warrior. He pushed the question of his abilities aside - he couldn’t afford to be distracted, not when every step forward meant another clash with the relentless Arachnae forces.

Instead he fell back into the old routines that had allowed him to reach the peak of his former path in the Otherworld.

Sheer physicality, and combat skill were what allowed him to take down enemy after enemy.

Oh, that and an enchanted machete.

Putting his lack of magical skills or abilities out of his mind, Jack instead focused on the gruesome task of ending the threat of swarming scorpion men, and saving as many of the human soldiers as he could manage.

Different problems for different times, he reminded himself, moving as if he were in sync with the battlefield’s rhythm.

Every creature he faced presented a new challenge, with warriors using different tactics in their attempts to overwhelm him. Some slashed with pincers in swift, stabbing motions; others lunged with wild swipes, hoping to overpower him with sheer force. But Jack met each attack like a well-versed puzzle, quickly unraveling their patterns and breaking down their defenses.

He ducked under a sweeping strike, lunging forward and cleaving down onto the creature’s pincer, severing it with a swift, powerful slice. Another shriek, another swing - this one grazed past his shoulder as he twisted to the side, following through with a backhanded strike that sliced off yet another leg.

"Just fall already!" he snarled, kicking the creature in the face, sending it stumbling back.

Around him, the soldiers seemed to have found their stride, deploying incendiary weapons with newfound precision. The warriors, once fierce and unyielding, were now struggling against a wave of fire that sent them scuttling back. Jack’s presence seemed to galvanize them, and his voice rang out across the battlefield, pushing them on.

“Make it count, soldiers! Let’s light ‘em up!” he shouted to a nearby sergeant, who gave him a grim nod before launching another grenade. The explosion cast an orange glow over Jack’s blood-smeared face, the electric energy from his machete casting eerie blue shadows along the ground.

Yet despite the soldiers’ best efforts, the Arachnae horde showed no signs of relenting.

Jack’s gaze flickered to the weapon in his hand, a glimmer of appreciation mingling with the chaotic dance of battle around him. "I should name you," he muttered, as the machete’s lightning-edged blade flickered with energy, carving a trail of sparks with every swing. But there wasn’t time to muse on names or to question why his skills and abilities were still out of reach; the swarm of Arachnae warriors demanded every scrap of his focus.

The battlefield was a brutal landscape of lashing stingers, severed limbs, and the grim resolve of human soldiers trying to hold their ground. Jack didn’t flinch as he ducked under a venomous stinger that whipped dangerously close to his face, the caustic fluid dripping from its tip close enough to smell. An idea sparked in his mind.

“You there!” Jack bellowed, spotting a soldier scrambling back, his weapon lost in the chaos. The man turned, confusion etched on his face, his eyes darting from Jack’s glowing machete to the monstrosities swarming around them.

“Grab a stinger and get to work!” Jack ordered, his tone sharp.

“Wha... what?” The soldier stammered, his expression that of a man grappling with reality and madness, his gaze flicking back to the blade crackling in Jack’s hand.

Jack narrowed his eyes. “You heard me, soldier! Get a stinger from one of the mobs I’ve already downed. Use it like a spear - it’ll cut right through them. Their stingers are laced with their own venom and magic; it’s perfect for taking them out.”

The soldier blinked, processing Jack’s words. Then, he straightened, saluting with newfound determination. “Yes, sir!” He ran, ducking and weaving through the chaos to retrieve a stinger from one of the Arachnae corpses littering the field.

Jack watched the soldier sprint away, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. “And spread the word!” he shouted after him. “Oh, and for the love of all that’s holy, don’t get stung!”