You have successfully saved versus fear.

Minotaur Bellow fails to effect you!

Stealth check made!

Eric’s heart was hammering as he darted around one of the side corridors he had passed while on the hunt. And it was only now, mentally drained, dealing with the after effects of extreme trauma and fleeing for his life that he realized just how hungry he was. So fucking focused on his skills and pushing away all memory of the white hot agony that had been the longest most awful two hours of his life that he hadn’t even thought to prepare any of the rats for food, which he so easily could have done… that his skills would have made absolutely effortless!

But hadn’t. And it was too late now. The remains of the rats he had killed had been converted to essence-infused rawhide and as close to indestructible arrows as he could get. That, and a leather vest was all he had to show for his earlier hunt.

But what really sucked was how thirsty he was.

Thirsty, in a maze of endless corridors with no water that he had sensed so far… and absolutely no access to the mundane food and water flasks that he had in plentiful supply in his ES space, as it was no real loss if his enemies had actually had the magic or means to make him clear it out. And how ironic it is that, save for the equipment he had so openly worn, no one had thought to check him for anything at all. yet it was painfully clear now that he could have gotten away with half a dozen storage devices, easy, no one ever taking off his boots or even emptying his bloody pockets!

But all he had was his ES Space. And thanks to the collar bound to his flesh, he had absolutely no access anything save the bone bow he had successfully pulled free.

His thoughts raced between stealth, survival, and what the hell he was going to do against an Orange-tier Minotaur. And should he really be surprised that that would be inhabiting a Terran maze with all the cultural legends surrounding them?

Now if only he wasn’t already parched with thirst.

He continued making his way down the corridor at a steady loping clip, promising himself he wouldn’t look back, not until he was in a much better position and had found something he could use as cover or camouflage… so of course when the hallway reverberated with what sounded like a bull’s bellow, he looked back.

Heart racing, he thought he caught a glimmer of furious golden orbs, at least fifteen feet off the ground.

His eyes widened with dismay when he suddenly understood how truly fucked he was, if these minotaurs had the heat sense he would expect of any Orange-tier creature in its preferred environment.

The red glow of his feet, an endless trail against the cool blue stone.

His throat grew dry, alarm bells ringing in his head. Because it wasn’t just about the inevitability of facing down massive bull-headed abominations that could charge him like a knight and send him flying. It was that dodging would put him in peril and even worse, if he was actually body slammed and sent flying. The mithril blades would jolt right out of their brittle ice containment and cleave his head clean off, no matter how high his Vitality was.

He was disgusted by the desperate whimper coming from no one’s lips save his own, before pulling himself together and using his BRAIN!

A sudden smile came to his lips as he remembered the blood ward he had used to invoke fear in the rats before he took their measure. And Fire’s essence warming his blood when it had seemed that Winter itself had been determined to freeze Eric into a sacrificial popsicle.

He knew damn well he could use the essence of Fire to turn his blood, easiest, or pretty much anything with increasing difficulty and risk of significant Soul Reserve depletion, into steel-melting flame. Hell, he’d used that to melt the coils that would have otherwise cut his head clean off.

So why the hell wasn’t he covering his entire body with a slick coating of blood that was exactly and precisely the temperature of this corridor?

Blood Mastery skill check made!

Because it was cold, he realized with a rueful shudder just moments later. Since it wasn’t just Fire but seemingly the essence of temperature he affected so readily, coating his skin a cool 50 degree Fahrenheit coating would chill him unmercifully, since he could never warm it up. So he did the inverse of what he used to do to so many arrowheads and armaments. First was a coating against his skin that was just a few degrees cooler than his basal temperature, about 95 degrees, which was about the normal temperature for skin in a well-regulated body.

He then spent a few tense seconds setting up and using his gifts to lock in that coating, even as his heart raced for fear of trouble coming his way. But it didn’t stop him from being thorough, even as the ground faintly vibrated with the massive pounding stride of hooves heading his way.

Only after it had set did he ooze out a second layer from his pours on top of the first that he made sure matched the cold granite floor perfectly. He coated the soles of his feet and the top of his head, not hesitating to do in a desperate moment what countless previous encounters had been unable to do. Quickly sheering off his golden locks with a rune-hardened bone arrow head, until only bare stubble remained. Now it was covered in a double coating of temperature controlled crimson perfection, as was every inch of his body, save for his eyes.

Which meant that he no doubt looked an absolute horror, and he wasn’t stupid enough to leave any hair or scent markers behind, instead using it to stuff or line his pair of arrow quivers, their contents now not rattling even the slightest. And if Eric’s hunch was right as he allowed his loping stride to turn into a ground eating sprint after darting around the nearest side corridor as the hallway behind him was filled with frustrated roars… his mastery of blood was such that no trace of his scent would now permeate the air… save, of course, for his exhalations, which he had no way to contain.

He flashed a hard smile, gazing down at bow and arrows, now likewise covered in a micro-thin crimson coating far more secure than any paint. Because having taken things this far already… the next step was obvious.

Save for his eyes which he could close, he was virtually invisible to anything depending upon regular or infravision, treading as silently as Rank 15 in Stealth and monstrous Finesse would allow, with extremely little scent as well.

Because he was covered in blood radiating the essence of Flame which meant that extremely little in the way of heat or cold would be effecting him or his bow any time soon.

So why not kick it up a notch and remind the world just how awesome 4000 degree arrowheads could be?

“Because I’m not an idiot,” he muttered to himself. “A single superheated arrowhead, when I can’t just insta-pull it out of my storage space, will mean all eyes on me!”

Stealth hunter it is, then, he thought with a hungry smile. His mind raced as he wondered just how he could best take down a minotaur with the tools he now had on hand and the restrictions he was dealing with… before allowing his thoughts to race through wild tangents that just might be able to net him some life-giving water, after all.

That was when he heard it, the cry that changed all his plans on a dime.

“Rich! Cover Emily! Ron’s Down!”

Eric near stumbled at those words, feeling an intense mixture of relief to hear other signs of humanity, and dread to sense so viscerally the desperation in the high pitched voice of adventurers clearly in a fight for their lives.

He strained his senses to the utmost, sensing another opening in the endless tunnel just ahead, certain that’s where the voice he heard had originated from… the air now ringing with the clang of steel and the monstrous roar of abominations doing their best to make a meal of humanity’s last hope. Those who would dare these rifts before a future monster surge one day wiped everyone off the map.

He didn’t hesitate to take the corner leading to the desperate sounds of battle, soon finding himself in a massive domed chamber several city blocks wide. His heart pounded as time seemed to stretch and slow, taking in his surroundings in the blink of an eye.

The massive chamber was dominated by a pair of enormous battle axe-wielding minotaurs roaring and lashing out with their axes wielded by very human looking arms and torsos, for all that their hooved feet cracked against the cobblestones, communicating not with words but by a bull’s bellows, perfectly fitting their horned heads.

The par of them were doing their damnedest to slaughter a handful of valiantly struggling humans, presently hammering their instruments of death down upon a silver-steel clad warrior’s shield radiating a golden light.

By some miracle the obvious party tank wasn’t crushed to a pulp, trying to block a shot that should have been dodged, and Eric immediately understood why when the adventurer went flying.

Eric’s heart jolted to see a blond-haired girl crumpled on the ground with blood trickling from her ears, now easy pickings for the looming behemoth bellowing with its giant bull head as it raised its blackened battle axe up high. And for all that Eric could clearly sense the arcane warding on her diaphenous gown, it clearly it hadn’t been enough to save her from whatever had incapacitated her in the first place, and if the roaring minotaur actually connected with his follow up swing… she was as good as dead.

“Emily!” A desperate cry from a gruff, middle-aged voice echoed through the massive chamber, emanating from a warrior kitted in blackened plate and mail along with a dark steel shield who was actually going toe to toe with a second minotaur, weaving and dodging before the ruins of a fort of rough-cut logs and stone blocks. There Eric spotted another figure perched on top of the fort also wearing a wizard’s robes who was currently belting out words that twisted in the air, tasting of darkness and flame.

Eric saw it all in a snapshot, everyone’s focus seemingly on the second minotaur as the first one roared and prepared to strike the comatose blond.

But Eric had already knocked his bow, sighting his prey with so much desperate tension in the limbs of his weapon that the air cracked when he released.

And never had any target seemed larger in Eric’s mind’s eye as he locked on his prey… only for his arrow to absolutely shatter in middair, shooting fifty yards, not a mere forty feet, at closer to Mach 4 than 3, and Eric thought it a miracle that the arrow head had managed to hit his target at all.

Which was a mixed blessing. Because even if the minotaur’s skull did get hit by the equivalent of a sniper’s bullet, it pinged away after drawing a tiny spray of blood, doing no real damage at all.

But it sure as hell got the creature’s attention, the beast roaring and spinning around, glaring Eric’s way.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He hissed to himself. But he was already drawing and firing. A second arrow and then a third streaked through the air as he released his fourth. But this time he kept only enough tension in the bow limbs to send his arrow flying at just a hair under the speed of sound.

His target was, of course, his opponent’s eyes and throat. And thanks to True Strike, the first and last actually hit right where he wanted.

You have successfully struck your target!

You have scored a Superficial Wound. Critical Hit!

Target is suffering temporary visual impairment.

But the lightness of the ammunition, even enhanced by his runes against a level sixty minotaur, meant that his subsonic arrows had hardly penetrated at all. He might have scratched the cornea, the minotaur even now howling and shaking its bull-like head as the third and forth arrows bounced harmlessly off the creatures monstrously tough skull… but he did no more than that.

He wanted to howl with fury, feeling so helpless.

At least he had brought the girl a bit of time.

“Emily!” Eric heard the panic in the voice of another party member manifesting itself in the form of a wild-eyed redhead wearing silvered mail with a shield in one hand and a javelin in the other.

Even as Eric braced himself for the charging minotaur, drawing another arrow but not before flicking it across his cheek, scoring blood… the Javelineer, because that’s what he clearly was, struck.

And Eric couldn’t deny what a thing of beauty it was. Absolutely perfect execution resulting in a javelin being launched at hypersonic speeds to tear right through the minotaur’s flank.

Eric blinked, Unified Perception making it damned clear that there had been some serious power behind that blow as the minotaur stumbled and lurched, attention turning away from Eric’s direction and onto roaring flanker now darting away as the minotaur pivoted to face the true threat, one giant clawed hand clutching the gaping wound in its flank.

The redhead’s eyes lit with manic glee, holding out his hand for a fresh javelin, or perhaps the one already thrown to appear.

“Time to dance, motherfucker!” The youth roared, and Eric couldn’t help smiling at that sentiment.

Before the entire cavern shook with a roar, and a third minotaur appeared from a far corridor.

“Shit, shit, shit! We are so fucked!” Screamed the robed youth on top of the ruined keep. But that didn’t distract him from his current target, quickly jutting his hand out and pointing at the minotaur that the older adventurer was still weaving and dodging around.

“Nigrum Flamma!” He roared, and Eric blinked as a ball not of fire, but fiery darkness tore through the air to explode in the minotaur’s flank, the air suddenly echoing with the creature’s bellowing scream as a massive chunk of of the creature’s torso corroded to nothing. That it was even still upright showcased just how fearsomely powerful these creatures were, because Eric had sensed just how hideously potent that spell truly was. Though the strained snarl on the boy’s face made it clear that the incredibly destructive ball of ebony flame had either been very difficult to control or was exhausting or both.

But Eric only spared a second’s consideration, his focus split between his quiver that he had just modified and the bow in his hands once more.

Because he had felt it, with that final shot as the air was filled with the roars of minotaurs and the shouts and cries of a group of adventurers actually daring this Orange tier rift.

He had sensed the barrier between himself and his target finally began to fade.

Eric forced himself to absolute stillness, no matter the furious melee he was just on the outskirts of. All his focus was in the drawing of a fresh arrow, slowly pulling back on the string until his thumb was once more resting beside his jaw.

He sighted for the eyes of the furiously roaring minotaur now lashing out two-handed once more with a berserker’s fury, the spurting wound on its side ignored, trying to cleave the desperately backpedaling Javelineer in half, and at least succeeding in foiling the redheaded youth’s follow up throw.

Eric slowly let out his breath half-way, heart slowing down as he lined up his shot, the minotaur’s furiously glaring eyes, one with a scratched cornea, suddenly growing so vast and big before him.

His sense of his prey grew ever clearer, now seeing in such clarity every rough crag and fissure in the creature’s massive taurine face covered in bristly hairs, its eyes glowing crimson with inhuman rage.

A distant scream nearly broke his focus, making it clear that he was rapidly running out of time.

If he was going to do anything…

Then he felt it, eyes widening despite his focus when he sensed the thick barrier of air resistance between himself and his target fade to the intangibility of the void.

Such that when he finally released his arrow, there was no crack and boom at all. Yet it struck his prey instantaneously, point first, just as he had intended.

A true bullseye, in every sense of the word.

The massive minotaur immediately stumbled back, clawing at his face with a roar.

Find Weakness skillcheck made!

You have successfully pierced your opponent’s defenses!

Flesh Sculptor skillcheck made!

You have successfully struck your target with an arrow moving 5x the speed of sound!

Bow skill is now Rank 20! You have reached Adept Tier with all bows!

You now enjoy +3 to Finesse, Perception, and Strength!

You have chosen the Void Piercer perk as your Adept Tier feat! Your arrows now strike without being hindered by any more air resistance than what’s needed to keep the fletching honed in on your prey. It’s almost as if you pierce space itself, and your prey is just a handful of feet away!

The redhead immediately spun around, wild eyes glaring into the darkness. “What the fuck was that!?”

Then Eric flinched, feeling multiple desperate stares locking on to him, realizing that he was being an idiot. Of course any adventurer who would dare an Orange tier delve… to the point they would make themselves an actual fort… had the means to see in the dark.

“Who the hell are you?” The youth roared. High on battle-fury and fighting for his life, he had instinctively raised his javelin high once more, and Eric felt the cold weight of dread in the pit of his stomach.

Because it didn’t matter how high his stats might be, somehow he knew that if that Javelineer successfully hit him with all the arcane potency crackling in that weapon, Eric was as good as dead.

“I’m a friend!” Eric cried out, realizing that even a half second’s stunned pause was too damned long. “Let’s finish these assholes off, then we can talk!”

“Your covered in blood!” Shouted the obvious wizard from the broken fort, still panting with his last casting.

“I know, I have a knack for blood and fire magics! It’s how I’m blocking the minotaur’s infravision!”

This earned a blink from the mage as his fellows continued fighting for their lives. “They’re using infravision to see us? Not arcane perception?”

“Now’s not the time, Steve!” Screamed a stressed feminine voice. “Newblood! If you can fight, do so! We’ll talk if we survive this FUBAR bullshit!”

“I’m on it!” Eric said, honing in on the third minotaur even now building up a deadly head of steam as it charged for the pair of fully armored men desperately trying to survive the onslaught of a minotaur’s furious axe swings. Both sods were on the backfoot, both had activated feats allowing their shields to radiate powerful protective magics, probably the only reason why they hadn’t been crushed to paste from the start… and both were about to be caught between hammer and anvil.

But all Eric could do was grin with fierce abandon as he embraced the sheer wonder of his breakthrough, pushing past his own growing sense of exhaustion to draw a bead on the third minotaur’s glaring form, its ugly countenance blooming into full life as Eric drew yet another arrow from his quiver.

The quiver now padded with blood that would never be above room temperature.

Which was a good thing, because the first few inches of the arrow Eric now pulled out was covered with blood saturated with 4000 degrees of steel melting goodness. As his bow and hands were equally protected, he drew and released in a single beat as his arrow cut through the air without making a sound. At least, not until impact.

Congratulations! You have critically struck your opponent!

Warning! You are beginning to lose your focus! Further use of Weapon Feats will result in perception and fatigue penalties until rest… or necessitate directly tapping into Temporary Soul Reserves.

In the blink of an eye, Eric’s third arrow blossomed into the now stumbling minotaur’s left eye, bursting it instantly.

Even at what the system noted to be an absolutely absurd Mach 4, it still failed to pierce the thick skull of the creature, which was actually best case scenario, as far as Eric was concerned. It meant that his steel-melting arrow was now lodged inside the creature’s cranium after piercing the eye socket. The creatures agonized bellow instantly cut off into ground shaking spasms as it crashed to the ground, flash boiled brains and viscera soon spurting from it’s eye sockets, ears, and nostrils, followed soon after by white-hot flames roaring over its entire skull.

Relieved that the tank-killer threat had just been removed, Eric caught sight of the Javelineer pivot around the wounded, limping minotaur yet again, darting around the side where Eric had blinded it before twisting around with the consummate grace of someone who wasn’t neglecting his Finesse or Speed stat at all. Only then did he release his javelin, the air cracking with a fresh sonic boom as it blasted through the creature’s chest, leaving a crater where its heart should be.

The minotaur crashed to its knees, then toppled to the ground. And the redheaded youth didn’t seem that much better off, taking ragged breaths as he stumbled to the fallen girl, gently picked her up, and limped back to the ruins of the keep that had at least still had three perfectly intact walls of wood and stone. Of course, the fourth wall looked like it had been completely obliterated, giving the minotaurs painfully easy access to the party-members who had clearly been forced to scatter or climb, so they wouldn’t be easy pickings.

And there was still one wounded minotaur left, doing its desperate best to slaughter the party.

For all that Eric was feeling near dizzy with weapon-feat fatigue, he knew as well as anyone how vital it was that they take out this final threat.

Yet he wasn’t stupid enough to launch 4000 degree arrow heads in a pitched battle when he himself wasn’t feeling 100%, no matter what his stats said.

So instead, he jogged over to where the two tanks were quite literally tanking the still raging minotaur’s blows. Eric knew that they needed to break up that creature’s rhythm, it’s effective stun lock so the pair of defenders could do something besides try not to buckle under the killing blows. Worse, Eric’s arcane senses made it painfully clear that their own protective wards were about to give out.

“Friendly fire to your rear!” He called out, before unleashing his payload, firing arrow after arrow now streaking through the air for the creature’s eyes, flashing a fierce smile when the creature’s face became a pincushion. At least for a few seconds, as light arrows going below the speed of sound failed to do more than break the skin. But he had at least managed to irritate and distract the fucker, and that was something.

More than enough for the pair of warriors to turn the tides, the grizzled veteran roaring and lashing out with a fearsome slash of his falchion that turned brilliant crimson for just a heartbeat, before cleaving right through the thigh of the minotaur in passing, causing it to stumble as pink frothy blood washed the stone floor.

“Champion’s Ward!” Cried out the second armored fighter, who now glowed a golden hue, as did the fire of his blade, lashing out with great cleaving slashes that tore into creature’s uninjured leg before darting away just as the giant collapsed, roaring its fury only to be abruptly cut off when a girl in tightly clad glossy leather slipped free of shadow to slice open the minotaur’s right wrist with a single sweep of her seven foot naginata, the poor beast giving a furious desperate bellow as the girl then flipped through the air before lashing out with a final strike to the creature’s neck… severing its spine and killing it instantly.

Eric blinked, beyond impressed by the girl moving with an acrobat’s supernatural grace.

He couldn’t help grinning when she caught his gaze and flashed and impish smile. He even found himself clapping, before stopping abruptly when he felt the weight of everyone’s exhausted glares pinning his own. He turned back to the girl who had smirked his way, only then realizing she had disappeared into the gloom once more.

Then he froze, feeling the weight of razor sharp death against the back of his neck.

“Now, how about you tell us who exactly you are, how the hell you got here, why you’re covered in blood with a goblin slave collar around your neck, and what the hell happened to our team above? Answer all those questions and I might just decide not to cut your throat.”