Jaco only spared a momentary glance to what was left of the Chosen’s body as it fell against the ground. His intention for going after him first had been rather simple. While the least dangerous according to Level, getting constantly shot at by the Scout’s arrows had made him the greatest annoyance.

Additionally, he’d felt rather surprised by just how much the gap had grown between him and these three members of the Chosen Few. Jaco knew that actually defeating the Minotaur was likely the greatest single achievement done by anyone in the area so far.

But now that difference was on full display for him being Level 40 compared to the highest Level Chosen at only 32. And that was also before considering the bonus Stats from his Secondary Class, that would have only further widened that large difference.

It was to the point where he honestly didn’t really see them as a threat anymore. Which was in stark contrast to their last encounter, where he’d barely managed to escape after being overwhelmed. Jaco wasn’t quite sure how he felt about reducing them from looming shadows in the back of his mind to being almost negligible enemies instead. So much so, that he even decided to use one of them to test just how powerful his Hell Staff actually was.

Jaco stepped over the corpse, now barely more than just a pair of legs. His gaze bore into that one of the other Chosen, the Phantom Rogue. What was his name again? Steve, or was it Steven? Although, an even better question was if knowing his name even mattered anyway. He’d be dead, soon enough.

Even when Jaco saw the genuine terror in the other man’s eyes, he didn’t feel the slightest hint of hesitation. He recalled the burning buildings of where he’d first fought them. The strewn about corpses of slaughtered adults and children alike. How many people did they terrorize before killing? How many lives did they end without even an ounce of mercy? How much begging and pleading did they allow to fall on deaf ears?

On the day he ran, the Chosen Few had stabbed fear into his heart. Him and all the others who met them but had failed to escape like him. But now it would be their turn to feel that same kind of fear and despair while in front of an unmerciful foe. Jaco tightly gripped his staff as he walked toward the remaining two Chosen.

“You wanna know something?” he started as he took a heavy step forward. His teeth were bared as the Druid stared the Chosen down.

“Every single one of your victims felt what you’re feeling right now! Do you even realize that, huh?” Jaco asked. Though even as the words left his mouth, he doubted that these monsters were capable of thinking beyond themselves.

“Or are you still too caught up in your psychotic power fantasies? Well nobody gives a shit if you don’t like being on the receiving end now!” He thought of every victim of the Chosen. Of all those that he’d seen, and the unknown many more that he hadn’t.

And finally, of the people here in this camp. Of the faces he’d seen while walking around and spoken with over meals, that he’d now only see one last time as they’re being buried.

“Because it’s time to fucking wake up and realize you’re just as killable as anyone else!” Jaco yelled as his body tensed with pent-up rage.

Steven stumbled back by several steps. He was quickly glancing around, his mouth dumbly opening and closing. Yet as one Chosen moved backwards with flight, the other stepped forward to still try and fight.

“Mark’s Class wasn't even evolved yet! You think just killing him is enough to scare me, motherfucker! Let me show you what an artifact's real power can look like and see if you can still talk big!” Dick yelled. He raised his obsidian wand and pointed it at the Druid. Jaco just stared back at him to see exactly what kind of trick he thought could actually act as an ace.

Warrior (Human)

Evolved (Strife’s Catalyst)

Level: 32

Jaco watched as Dick showed just what kind of Ability he gained from his Class Evolution. A red aura formed around him. The energy within it felt like devastation incarnate. It felt like he was staring directly into the barrel of a tank, where a destructive blast could be unleashed at any second.

Strife’s Catalyst, huh? Looks to be some kind of empowerment Ability. If I had to guess from just the feel of that aura, it’s not the main source of danger, but what it goes into. Now will he start with a fireball from his artifact and then try to use a supercharged Slash as a big finisher? Jaco wondered.

Once the power of the aura reached its apex, it began to move. Rather than remaining spread out around the Warrior’s body, it quickly gathered the collective energy into just one spot. It was all focused into just the point of the obsidian wand.

Jaco’s eyes widened as he quickly realized that he’d been off with his initial assumption. He didn’t know exactly how the Ability worked. But it was now very obvious that it wasn’t just limited to Dick himself, but could affect artifacts as well. And the moment that realization came, a fireball unlike any before was released.

The fiery projectile was huge, easily as big as a large house. Rather than being red like the flames of previous fireballs, it was hot enough to be a bright yellow instead. All stray pieces of wood, blades of grass, or really anything flammable within its immediate vicinity were all set alight.

Dick grinned with triumph as the sheer force of the blast also threw him backwards. The Chosen almost definitely believed that if the ultimate attack landed, then not even someone with 40 Levels worth of toughness could simply shrug it off. And he might have been right. Even if Jaco were to stack every defensive Ability of his, he would still likely be seriously injured at the very least.

An attack of this caliber was certainly the kind of thing that would let you use everything you have to punch above your weight class. After all, everyone with artifacts and a Class Evolution were all bound to have aces that would allow them to threaten beings above themselves in Level. But there was just one issue. The Chosen had massively screwed up in terms of having the worst possible target for this ultimate attack.

They still weren’t aware of the full extent of Jaco’s Abilities. When it came to Elemental Offense, the Chosen Few had only experienced his control over earth during their last bout. Between the increase to his Stats and the Ability itself being upgraded from Minor to Lesser, Jaco felt ready to put confidence in how far he’d come.

Jaco widened his legs as he prepared his stance. He had to squint through the blinding light that came off the giant fireball. But even then, it was just too much light for him to see anything. Yet even though his vision was compromised, he could still rely on his sense of awareness over the elements and gut instincts.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

A couple seconds passed as the blast roared toward him. But as sweat was already forming on his skin from the extreme heat, he held his ground. And the moment that the fire crossed the threshold for his Ability’s range, he immediately acted.

Jaco split all his focus between two parts of Lesser Elemental Offense. On one side, he poured his willpower into the incoming flames in an attempt to wrest control of them. Then on the other, he rapidly spun his staff to start creating a torrent of wind. The Druid understood that fire could be only more dangerous when exposed to a sudden rush of air.

But while the reaction might happen too quickly to normally be understood, he could sense how the air and fire interacted. He could feel every shift in the flow of air and change to the heat itself. Just one misstep would be all it took to only hasten his demise. But after having stared death in the eye time and time again, Jaco was used to acting correctly while under immense pressure.

He felt his Mana drain away as manipulation of this level demanded both raw power and delicate control. But that was fine by him.

One moment, the giant fireball was screaming through the air and rushing straight for him. Yet just a couple seconds later, there was a deafening swoosh as the flames brightened even further. At the same time, the fireball suddenly shot backward as if it was a tennis ball that had just bounced off a wall.

The Druid had no idea how Dick reacted to the turnaround. The light was still just as blinding, and the roaring flames easily drowned at any other noise. And with him being on the opposite side of the huge projectile, there was no way he’d have seen his face anyway.

EXP Earned!

But that notification was already all the confirmation he really needed.

Jaco stomped down to raise an earthen wall in front of himself. Which he did not a moment too soon, as the fireball then exploded upon impact with whatever was the first thing it hit. The ambient temperature sored even higher as the full rage of the flames exploded out in all directions.

The roar and heat was the most powerful he’d felt, at least ever since the initial blast of the Apocalypse. Even with Endurance, Primal Ferocity, and both his beast Abilities, he was glad to not have tested them against a direct hit. But the explosion was short-lived. For as soon as it washed around his wall, it was already over. Yet even so, it had left its mark on the camp.

Having tanked the full brunt of the explosive force, the earthen wall was already crumbling before him. On the other side, he saw a crater several dozen feet across and about half a foot deep. Practically everything around it that could burn and hadn’t been flat-out destroyed was currently on fire.

This also applied to the undead horde, as the air was filled with the smell of Skeletons being burned. And with how tightly packed together the horde was, the flames had no trouble in quickly spreading across the army of monsters.

Jaco observed the smear of ashes that used to be the Chosen Warrior. At least he assumed that it was his ashes he was looking at and not something else’s. After being caught in the center of that explosion, not even his equipment had survived. But now all it’d take was one strong gust of wind, and all evidence of the man’s very existence would forever be gone.

He recalled the burnt-up corpses he’d found at the site of the Chosen Few’s attack. Of the charred body that had failed to protect the baby between its arms. They’d been killed by Dick’s artifact, and now he had perished to those same flames. So in his mind, this justice was dealt in honor of those victims in particular.

Looking over to the side, Jaco frowned with a bit of disappointment as he saw the last Chosen remaining. His hope had been that the explosion would have also consumed him and made it a two for one deal.

But as he saw the man still on his face, it seemed that wouldn’t quite be the case. The Phantom Rogue must have reacted quickly, as he had managed to put a fair amount of distance between them.

However, even then, it was evident that he hadn’t managed to escape completely unscathed. The left side of his cloak was ruined, exposing heavily burnt skin underneath. Yet even from a distance, he was visibly trembling as he stared back at Jaco with an expression grimacing with pain.

“You might want to try running.”

With all the undead in the immediate area now incinerated, Jaco didn’t even feel the need to raise his voice. And it was clear that the Chosen had indeed managed to hear, as he immediately turned and broke into a desperate sprint.

—--

Steven’s body screamed with agony as he ran as fast as he could. It felt like every movement of air only further exacerbated his fresh burns. But he didn’t care. Better to feel pain than to be dead like Mark and Dick.

He didn’t give a shit about any of it anymore. Not the Chosen Few, not this city, none of it. Steven didn’t even care about what would happen afterward with their leader. Because as far as that asshole would ever know, he’d gotten reduced to ashes alongside Dick. And if he did somehow ever learn that he was alive and had run away, it wouldn’t matter if he was long gone by then.

Steven ran out of the damnable camp and through the horde of undead. The mindless things tried to grab and claw at him. But all they could do was slightly slow him down at most. He didn’t even have to think about it as he tore through them and carved his escape path to freedom.

His mind didn’t even register the flood of Experience notifications. Getting as far as possible from that monstrous Druid was the only thing he could afford to focus on.

The Phantom Rogue soon broke through the outside perimeter of undead. He spared a quick glance over the shoulder, but didn’t see any signs of being chased. Sweat dripped off his chin as he still maintained full speed as he sprinted into the woods.

He ran and ran. The trees surrounding him were just a brown blur as he sped through the forest. Steven’s heart threatened to explode out of his chest as the edges of his visions started to twist and turn. He wouldn’t be able to run forever, not with his serious burns. At some point soon, he’d need to stop and consume a Potion of Healing to start recovering.

Steven eventually moved past a line of trees and reached a break in the woods. He entered a clearing, and only then slowly came to a stop. Behind him, the columns of smoke from the camp were small and far away. Even now, there still wasn’t any indication of the Druid being hot on the pursuit.

Had he actually managed to get away? Would it be safe here, at least for just a couple of minutes of rest? Steven closed his eyes and deeply inhaled. His breathing was shaky, but the act was still calming as it marked a mental checkpoint. He’d take out a potion and let it do its work. At the same time, he needed to find a suitable place to hide for the time being, just in case.

Yet his surge of relief was cut short as something then caught his attention. From overhead, he heard a screech. Steven opened his eyes and looked up to see what appeared to be some kind of bird. After the initial events of the Apocalypse, the local wildlife had also suffered heavily and became rare sights. That was why even something so relatively mundane as a bird managed to draw his attention.

Guess it’s some kind of falcon, or maybe a hawk? Huh, is it- Steven’s thoughts were cut off from a sudden and horrible realization. That bird was flying fast, way too fast. And not only that, but it was heading straight toward him, right from the direction of the camp.

“Oh fuck!” Steven cursed. He turned to start running again, but then heard another screech. One that was now much closer than the first. He couldn’t stop himself from looking. And he yelled with fright as he saw the hawk already swooping down with its talons outstretched.

“No! No! No! Please, I’ll do anything! Just spare me, please! I’ll-” he tried to beg for mercy as he ran. But there was no answer as the hawk only continued to descent faster than he could run.

Steven then felt a sharp pain across the back of his neck. He swung back with his daggers to try and get in a strike of his own. Something, anything to fend for himself after having tapped his Mana supply dry. But the hawk moved even faster than his swing as it turned on a dime mid-air.

The last thing Steven ever saw was its claws as they aimed for his eyes. Then just a moment later, the last thing he ever felt was his throat being pierced. And finally, the last thing ever thought was how he still hoped that a miracle could occur that would let him escape with his life.

Then nothing.