Ben's system perfectly described the Ash Reavers because they were unmistakable.
The moment Ben spotted them, he knew immediately that it was them. And worse, they were brutal. He quietly cursed at his system for not perfectly describing 'that' part.
There were five of them, all identical in build. Massive, and at least seven feet tall, with ashen-grey skin that looked like an armor.
Their eyes glowed a dull orange colour and they wore mismatched armor on their armor looking skin.
Their armor looked like it was made from pieces of scavenges from god-knows-where and each one carried a different weapon. A spiked mace, a jagged cleaver, a chain with blades at the end, et cetera.
But it wasn't the weapons that made Ben's stomach drop, It was the way they moved.
The Ash Reavers moved together. All the time. Like a single organism synchronized together. When one stepped left, the others adjusted to match his movement.
When one swung, the others covered for him, and they didn't just fight. They were hunting and nothing in their path ever survive.
Ben watched from his hiding spot as they cornered a horned creature, some kind of fairy. It was typically a fairy but it was big and it had horns. Like a minotaur but with wings. It roared and charged at them with its axe raised.
The five of them didn't even flinch. One stepped forward and blocked the axe with his mace while another swept the minotaur's legs. The third drove a blade through its spine. The fourth grabbed its horns and twisted hard while the last covered for them in case another enemy was attacking from behind.
Crack!
The minotaur collapsed. It was five on one. Every single time. Ben stared and swallowed even though his throat was already dry.
"Are you freaking kidding me?" he whispered to himself. "This is a suicide mission."
His system pinged.
< Look who's talking >
Ben's mouth fell open. He blinked at the screen. "Wow. I saw what you did there. I'm genuinely offended." He said, ready for a banter.
He was already thinking of points to justify the situation he was in, before this whole 'nightmare' that had prompted him settle for ending it all.
He was already thinking of every point and curse word to throw against his system in this quote-on-quite debate.
Then, the system pinged again.
< I understand, Ben >
< But there's no time for banter >
< The werewolf is approaching >
< Look! >
Ben's heart lurched as he spun around.
The werewolf was maybe thirty feet away, head swiveling left and right, sniffing the air as he was searching for Ben.
"Shit! Alright now, tell me. What do I do?"
< The item, Ben >
< Go. now! >
Ben sucked in a breath, looked back at the Reavers in the distance, and cursed under his breath.
Then he ran. The world blurred around him because he was moving with super speed.
With the Fantom Surge still active, everything moved like it was underwater. Fighters swung their weapons in slow lazy arcs, blood sprayed through the air in suspended droplets and the sounds of screams stretched out into a low long distorted groans.
Ben was fast. He darted between combatants like a ghost, his feet seeming like there were barely touching the ground.
A massive demonkin creature swung a club at his head, Ben ducked under it, the weapon passing inches above him in slow motion, he threw a defending punch at the demonkin creature. It fell back, rolling in the dust. Still.
He continued moving. He vaulted over a pile of bodies, landed in a roll, and kept sprinting. A goblin-like creature lunged at a wounded woman on the ground, claws raised with a long bloody sickle in its hand.
Ben didn't slow down. He snatched a fallen dagger mid-stride and hurled it. The blade spun through the air and sank into the goblin's throat. It collapsed.
The woman stared up at him, wide-eyed, but Ben was already gone. He leapt over a warrior locked in combat, grabbed a spear off the ground as he passed, and drove it into the back of a lizard creature that was about to ambush someone from behind.
He didn't stop to see if they were grateful or not. He didn't stop at all because the Werewolf was closing in.
The Reavers were ahead now, just fifty feet away.
He moved fast. When he got close enough, his eye widened. He could see the tape his system described.
It was hanging from a belt on the closest Reaver's waist, coiled neatly, glowing faintly with a strange shimmer.
It was the 'Thornbind Tape' as his system called it. Ben's eyes locked onto it. Twenty feet.
Ten.
He reached out to grab it. He was almost grabbing it. Almost.
Then, one of the Reavers turned its head and met his eyes. "Shit." he cursed.
Ben tried to snatch the tape anyway, fingers brushing the edge of it but the Reaver's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.
Ben shivered at the sight of that huge creature face to face with him. The Reaver grinned. It flung him to the side. Ben went flying in the air. He tumbled through the air like a ragdoll and hit the ground.
Thud!
"Ahh!" he winced. The pain was sharp. He rolled across the sand, and skidded to a stop in a heap.
"Ow!" he groaned at his final hit, clutching his ribs. He pushed himself up onto his elbows. All five Reavers were looking at him now and they were smiling.
"Oh, come on!" Ben muttered.
This was not good. At all. He scrambled to his feet and charged again. Faster this time. He ducked low, aiming for the tape but got a slamming punch to the face.
He went sprawling backward. It was pain on all levels.
"I see stars.." he said before falling to the ground.
< Ben >
"This one is red and this one is blue,"
< Ben! >
His system called again and again, before he shook his head and got up. He tried one more time, rolling left planning to attack them from the side. He steached out his hands, reaching for the tape and got caught by his clothes.
A massive arm and flung him to the side. He hit the ground harder this third time. It wasn't just painful, it was disappointing. At this insane amount of speed, he was still at a loss.
The Reavers weren't even using their weapons. They were just... toying with him, like a rag doll.
One of them picked him up by the collar and threw him to another before tossing him away. Ben tumbled across the ground, coughing out dirt. His head hurt.
He tried to stand but an air knocking kick from one of them went straight to the ribs. He went down again, coughing out dirt.
"This is humiliating," he wheezed.
He lunged one more time, desperation driving him forward and got backhanded so hard he spun in the air before crashing down.
Ben lay on his back, gasping and staring up at the green sky.
Ping!
< Ben! >
"What!" he surprised himself by yelling because he was frustrated from all the failed attempts. But he looked the system anyway.
< The Fantom Surge doesn't work on them >
Ben blinked.
"... you've gotta be kidding me."