“Oh fucking hell, that thing is huge!”

Eric had to nod in agreement at Jack’s panicked declaration, even as Richard hurriedly began screaming orders, not quite as cool-headed and together as he had purported to be while calmly going over what seemed to be myriad tactical methodologies in between explaining choice stochastic modalities.

Thankfully, Richards commands were far more concise and practical.

“Ron! Shields Up! Emily, Crowd Control! Yuki… hamstring that bastard when you find an opening that won’t kill you! Jack, Steve, fire for the left knee! Eric? Eric!”

But Eric had already sighted in his target, felt the glorious frisson of two points burning into one as the absolutely massive twenty five foot tall behemoth going much faster than any creature that size had a right to, tore around the corridor and charged right for their way too close party… before stumbling back when its eye exploded in superheated flame.

True Strike.

Void Piercer.

You have critically struck your foe!

Foe Quickness check made. Your arrow has been successfully plucked free!

Your foe is now partially blind and will suffer penalties to accuracy, initiative, and orientation!

Eric let the interface messages wash over him, heart pounding with genuine dread, knowing that this creature wasn’t simple, not by any means, and was moving far too fast for his friends to do anything but die, if he didn’t bring it down hard.

And the creature, so damn quick, had pulled out the arrow before it had even fully penetrated its eye. Flinched and jerked it’s head back and brushed his arrow away like a mortal would do with an annoying fly. Thankfully it was enough to partially blind it, and more to the point, set it off balance.

But Eric already knew it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough, and that the creature was far too savvy to let it’s other eye be taken out the same way, Eric suddenly feeling a massive barrier of furious intention, much like he had when facing a certain spider countless months back while a conscript, and suddenly it was a major challenge getting space to warp between them, his arrow now needing to shoot the full distance to ping his foe.

Of course he took the shot, one after another, praying the split seconds the massive bull-headed abomination spent weaving and dodging would be enough as Eric roared out words that might piss Richard off, but it didn’t fucking matter if everyone was dead.

“Hell Vines! Hell Vines! Hell Vines! Inevitable Doom!”

Three groups of thrashing viney trees sprung from the ground on top of Emily’s packed ice, and he was glad their previous linkage of an intimate sort somehow allowed him to melt through her ice-princess act effortlessly, her ice slick firmly in place, gripping the trunks of his trees tightly as they blazed and did their thing, lashing out against the abomination presently bellowing it’s fury, refusing to be pulled off its feet and consumed as it tore free vine after vine, no matter the stench of charred skin and hair now filling the air.

“Robero ventus attentio!” Eric shouted, once more finding himself able to cast a weaker chant that wasn’t locked to a duration longer than his focus in just a handful of seconds while the air filled with Steve’s black balls of doom crashing against the minotaur and searing off parts of its forearms always perfectly raised to defend, managing to parry even Jack’s furiously thrown Javelin, and Eric could tell the boy was still exerting a full battle-feat with each thrust that pierced the forearm and seemed to lodge itself in the meat of the arm, for his alternate throws didn’t even pierce the skin. Even if those same throws would have near effortlessly pierced the armor plates of a Sherman tank.

“Fuck, it’s too tough!” Steve cried out, voice trembling with fear.

“Shut up and stick to the plan!” Richard roared. “Keep the pressure on it! It’s our only chance at winning. Our only chance at surviving!”

Yuki’s eyes widened, her limbs trembling, and Eric just knew she had used some sort of Perception skill on it. “Shit. Richard, I can’t cut through it’s ward. Is this the fucking Boss monster? I can’t hamstring him. He’s too fucking strong!”

“And fast,” Rick said as the minotaur furiously pounded the ice slick spells Emily kept belting out with fearless resolve, never mind the palpable killing aura it was now radiating. It’s hooves were smashing the ground so fast that it would be death for any would be ninja girl to get too close… even at a hundred Quickness.

“Fuck!” Yuki whispered. “That’s no fucking Orange tier abomination!”

Eric didn’t say a word about Boss creatures, or how damned tough they truly could be, remembering the plant-like monster of countless vines and mouths and hideous hunger that he had had to put absolutely everything into taking down. Because sniping at the edges using clever techniques to keep a portal locked in place while whittling down peripheral stragglers to level up at a mad pace was actually sound tactics, much like sniping into a high tier territory from a low in World of Warblades 2.0.

But when it came to actual dungeon clears, the recommendation was a full party of elite players who were at least 80th level. Ideally while being lead by someone of noble blood who had at least nine or ten meridians, considerably more than the absolute maximum of seven open meridians for any Classer or Cultivator born of common stock, even for those with the greatest potential. Which, as always, staked things firmly in the favor of the true elites, perhaps explaining just how they had become the elites, their power steadily consolidating over countless milennia, the grim necessity of bowing before their methodology and ever growing power a bitter necessity accepted and adhered to by what Eric imagined was pretty much certain was any and every newly risen world.

Yet far from serving as an example of an elite’s hand-chosen forces, their party was a hodge podge of fortuitous encounters and surprisingly efficacious use of Standard and Advanced Classes… and at Level 48 or so, they were still horribly underleveled.

And this was the result, Eric thought, already knowing what had to happen as the far too savvy Boss tier monster ducked and weaved, keeping his face and torso out of line-of-sight while cleaving through the hell vines with blisteringly fast swings of his axe, now radiating impossible sharpness he had pulled out of seemingly nowhere.

“Oh fuck… I see an axe. That monstrous shit pulled out a giant axe! Does it have an ES Storage space? Was he just toying with us before? That’s complete fucking bullshit! I can’t even hit him for shit now!” Jack screamed.

Richard paled. “Fuck. FUCK! Keep your head in the game, guys.” Yet his face had paled. He turned to Emily. “You saw how fast it is. How many ice walls can you form, babe?”

Emily was instantly pulled from her battle high, the exultant grin she wore, as she flowed into her chants like Eric had never seen before seen, was ripped free of her features as quickly as splashing her face with the cold weight of liquid terror as panicked eyes looked into his own. She outright whimpered when he handed her a potion that only a fool wouldn’t think had cost a fortune.

“Richard!”

“Drink it all, babe. As much as you need to. Just… fill this corridor with as many ice walls as you can.”

The party leader quickly took note of their surroundings, no doubt spotting just as Eric had that the corridors had definitely gotten a fuck ton bigger.

And when the hell had that happened?

Rich’s eyes took a desperate intensity. “When we first entered, when we thought this was just a rat dungeon and were just getting our bearings, the corridors were actually narrow! Remember? I think our fort lasted so long because only the weakest and skinniest fuckers, well below level 60, could even get close! We’re going back, babe. Back the way we came, because if this is leading to the final layer, Yuki thinks she can find the way back!”

Yuki gave a frantic nod, a desperate light in her eyes. “I just pushed up my Dungeoneer perk one full rank with my banked points! The option clicked once this fucker came into view. Now I think I can at least get us the fuck out of here, so let’s go, go, go, before it finishes chopping down Eric’s fire trees!”

Emily’s terror was replaced by sudden hope. “Really? Oh fuck yeah, I’ll cast all the ice walls you...”

Her words were cut off by the crack and boom of one massive hell vine after another being cut to the stump.

“Shit, we’re out of time!”

Eric clenched his jaw, knowing his new boon companion was right.

They had indeed run out of time… Assuming Eric wanted to get his party out without a single wipe.

“Rich, I can buy you time!” Eric shouted, ignoring the surprised looks being sent his way.

He cracked his neck, getting more satisfaction than he wanted to admit at the stares he received when his hands burst in white-hot flame.

Ron hissed. “Now. Now is when you would betray us?”

“Fuck off, Ron.” Eric caught Richard’s gaze. “Think of it! A powerful illusion that will have him swiping at his feet like a fool while our DPSers smack him down. Team work at it’s best!”

Richard stared at Eric, eyes wide with disbelief as the minotaur roared and tore through the hell vines, Eric estimating that he was less than a handful of seconds from breaking completely through.

Eric turned to Emily. “NO time to fuck around. Emily! Turn off your ice slick! At this point it will only hurt me!”

Emily’s horrified gaze met Richard’s, and Eric knew what the man would say.

“Richard!” The intensity of Eric’s voice all but compelled their leader’s attention. “It will work. Trust me.” He locked gazes with the man, slamming his fists together. “In fact, I’m willing to bet my life on it.”

Richard glowered. Eric didn’t say a word further, or make a move for the berserking bestial horror. He had already pushed as far as he could without directly countermanding Richard’s words or undermining him as a leader. He’d give the man a chance to make the necessary call. Doing so would maintain group integrity and, if anything, strengthen his position. But if he refused...”

Richard shot Eric a look that promised words later.

Then he nodded his head, a desperate roughness to his voice. “Okay, Wildcard. Show us what the fuck you can do. Steve! Jack! Get ready for some serious sniping! Ron, get that shield glowing hot! Yuki, do what you do best. Emily, melt the ice!”

Emily trembled. “Are you...”

“Now, or were fucked!” Eric urged.

Emily glared. “You’re so fucking arrogant… Rununtio!” She cried, and Eric was already off.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

The words of surprise coming from his friends stretching to a low thrum as he quit holding back, now embracing every last iota of Quickness, Speed Racer, and Battle-time, darting through the trees with his fists blazing with furious intent, getting his first good look at the roaring minotaur who’s focus was entirely on the trees it was blitzing through, which suited Eric just fine.

The trees ignored their master. Even better, the limbs Eric darted under twisted with furious abandon, buying Eric all the time in the world to make his presence known.

Fire Fist!

Fire Fist!

Eric lashed out with furious abandon, his fists blazing with white hot killing intent.

He held off from using his Essence Fusion for two reasons. One, it had been made damn clear that what he had forged in the crucible of his own agony, his own desperation, was so out of the pale that the system itself had seemed oddly unprepared, and he feared the cost of revealing his deadliest trick would be just as severe as whatever forced his hand, quite literally, to use it, if there was a single soul around who he didn’t trust with his very life.

The other point was that he had, at peak, 250 Qi-infused strikes he could unleash before needing to cycle his Qi once more. Tied to essence, he had no more than 4. And at present, with all the arrows he had shot, could only unleash two. Four, if he let allowed his Crimson Orb to circle him, not giving a fuck who saw, which he immediately did.

And finally, Eric was now in the most terrifying and exhilarating place he could possibly be. Desperately weaving and dodging past massive titan-sized cloven hooves that would no doubt shatter even his limbs as he darted like a madman, glorying in the inevitable truth of physics. For every hoof dodged was a target he could immediately pivot back to and STRIKE with all his burning fury, savoring flesh rupturing and searing under his blows as hocks were bruised and fried before desperate hooves were lifted for a panicked rebuttal with the opposing foot, and once said limb stomped down, it was nothing to weave back just enough to be spared the hoof, protect his eyes against the worst of the shattered rock tearing through his armor yet bouncing off his skin before darting forward with a roar and pounding the second hoof with a furious chain of hate-filled fists, finally having a fucking TARGET for the fury clawing up his throat as he gave vent to a roar, shaking the corridors with the torments he had endured in a day seemingly without end. FINALLY he was able to take the mask off and unleash his HATE on a monster he felt no shame in striking.

It was a roar that made even the monster trying to crush him under its feet flinch, before the crack of bone and an explosion of gory flesh had the twenty-five foot tall titan crashing to the ground with a desperate panicked wail.

And then Eric truly went to town.

You have critically struck your target’s neck with Fire Fist! Catastrophic Damage inflicted!

You have critically struck your target’s skull with Fire Fist!

Multiple metacarpal bones FAIL to save versus striking Unbreakable Target.

You have suffered temporary impairment!

Left hand successfully strikes your target’s neck with Fire Fist! Catastrophic Damage inflicted!

Eric howled with gleeful abandon, striking like the frenzied monsters he truly was, reveling in the pulpification of his enemy’s flesh as tyranical bellows became the panicked squeals of cattle finally understanding it wasn’t going to the pasture of its dreams, but the slaughter house that, in this case, it so richly deserved.

And not even the sharp, sweet agony of no less than three metacarpal bones cracking was enough to get Eric do anything more than laugh like a madman who had finally found a limit, 200+ Finesse at least good for letting him effortlessly switch hit, now weaving and darting and putting Speed Racer to the ultimate test as he weaved back and forth on a dime as the minotaur thrashed and struggled, Eric now timing his strikes for the vulnerable heartbeat needed to pound his foe’s fucking neck to a ruptured pulpified mass soon spurting arterial blood boiling at point of impact, the boss-tier abomination now squealing smoke and flame before it’s throat filled with blood and it began to thrash, wild-eyed with panic, now a greater threat to Eric than it had ever been before.

Yet Eric savored this additional opportunity to hone himself against savage physical power, darting in to strike the flanks with completely unnecessary blows, laughing like the fool he was when a flailing limb sent him slamming into the wall, leaving an Eric- sized indentation he sprung right out of, before going right back to down.

Vitality check made! All bones remain intact! You have successfully saved versus critical injury!

You have saved versus temporary stun and taken 3 Light Wounds.

You continue to hone yourself against perilous opposition!

Fire Fist is now Rank 11.

Fire Fist is now Rank 12!

Unarmed Combat is now Rank 18!

You have DEPLETED your Spiritual Energy reserves.

You have FAILED a Charisma check.

Your party members now see you for the bloodthirsty monster that you truly are!

Congratulations! You have achieved Level 57 as a Primal Adventurer!

Quickness / Finesse / Perception each increase by 3 points as you embrace the crucible of battle once more.

All wounds have been healed, curses revoked, and all Potency Pools have been fully restored with your ascension!

Carry on, chosen scion of the Winter Queen!

Eric took a deep, shuddering breath, sitting down to cultivate and reign in the flood of emotions roaring through his body and soul.

He wanted to laugh with triumph. He wanted to scream and shout at the heavens for the monstrous agony he had endured that day, forced to push it back, to pretend that he hadn’t been lost in hellish torment no thinking being should ever have to endure.

He could hear his own laughter, feel his tears drip down his cheeks from injuries no one could see or heal. And he knew damn well he should have been covered in gaping wounds all over his body from stone shrapnel, but between his absolutely absurd 56 in Physical Resistance and his level-up, physically he was in absolutely pristine health once more.

Even if his armor was in shredded tatters… fixed in very short order when he popped it back into his ES Space, such was the boon of Soul-Bound prizes.

He only wondered for a moment why he hadn’t leveled up as Death’s Disciple, because sure as fuck, that had been one serious fight.

Note. You have FAILED to defeat Boss-tier foe independent of outside assistance.

Cultivation Rank remains unchanged.

“A yes, I’m not alone,” he realized with a bitter smile through his tears, feeling far too many judgmental stares now staring down at his shuddering frame.

He wasn’t alone.

There were at least half a dozen souls who had just seen him at his most glorious and his most savage. Who had caught a glimpse of the shark-toothed monster hiding in sheep’s clothing.

In the end, not that different from his mother after all, once all the chips were down.

And sure as shit, 195 Perception meant he could taste their fear on the tip of his tongue.

“What the fuck just happened?” Jack asked in an awed voice.

“He actually took that fucker down. Solo,” Yuki said, with no small amount of respect in her voice.

“That freak’s covered in blood. He was enjoying it!” Ron shouted. “He was laughing like a madman. Pounding that… thing, even in it’s death throws!”

Eric could sense Steves’s nod. “Yes, he was. He was taking every opportunity to push himself beyond simple experience point accrual, honing his skills without holding back. Just look at him. He’s in the lotus position. And check out at his fists! They’re actually blazing, and it’s an energy my interface is pinging as… Spiritual? He looks like a… what are they called again?”

“Cultivators,” Richard whispered, a trace of awe in his voice. “But we were told they were forbidden from populating Earth. That the Bloodtier Consortium had won the rights to declare the terms of Earth’s ascension.”

“Well it looks like Eric didn’t get that particular memo,” Yuki whispered. “So… what do you think the odds are that he might teach us?”

“Yuki, are you serious?” Emily’s voice was a high-pitched whisper. “You heard him laughing. You saw his face!”

“Emily...” Yuki’s tone carried definite disappointment, yet she was still graceful enough not to say anything more.

“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just… there’s a reason why I walk the path I do,” she said, squeezing a clueless Richard closer to her, earning a sympathetic nod from Yuki.

Eric breathed in and out. Loosing himself in the flow of spiritual Qi through his central and peripheral meridian channels, becoming one with the flow of Fire fueled by Wood and propelled by Wind. Eric did his best to dispassionately reviewing his battle and consolidate his gains, to put it in cultivation terms, and perhaps more than anything else, desperately trying to regain his calm. His center. To burn away in the fires of his own soul the agony he now knew he need NEVER fear again. For though he lacked his sister’s essence affinity with Pain, his growing mastery over Dominion meant that pain collars and any other torture device would never have sway over his nerves again.

Not that he would allow collars of steel or mithril to ever touch his flesh again, under any circumstances.

He’d burn fucking cities to the ground before he ever willingly suffered that agony a second time.

Save seventy thousand kids? Damn right he would.

And he’d do it by slaughtering every single opponent in sight, until the final three gate-wielding shamans were held in his grip, pissing themselves in terror, knowing that he was more than ready and willing to tear out their throats if they did anything but let those kids through.

That was how he planned on handling any further negotiations with his enemies.

Enough said.

“Eric? Are you um… okay?”

Surprisingly, it was Jack who spoke, Eric having allowed himself to float in the purifying flame cleansing the fear and terror away, leaving his spirit at peace, happily drifting in the now.

There was no past filled with pain’s bitter memory, merely lessons well learned.

There was no future that wouldn’t be decided by the present.

There was only the now.

The now, where he would embrace every precious second he could squeeze from this existence, savoring life’s triumphs and reveling in its challenges.

Breath in.

Breath out.

Let the lingering screams fade away.

No more than the gentle rustle of hot winds blowing the peaceful wooden seeds fueling his ascension.

Eric opened his eyes with a smile.

Trying not to wince at the troubled stares being sent his way.

Though he did nod his head in approval. At least his friends were taking a few precious moments to rest and recharge, eating meals that didn’t look quite as appetizing as his own, but were still enough to fill hungry bellies, no matter that they had eaten less than an hour before.

Fighting for one’s life, not to mention monstrously high stats, definitely burned the calories.

Eric met Richard’s concerned gaze with a smile. “Mission accomplished, fearless leader.”

“I see that,” Rich said. “Good work.”

“You’re still covered in blood,” Ron said with an ugly sneer, earning a frown from Richard. “And don’t think we didn’t hear you screaming and shrieking like a fucking psychopath.”

Eric held the man’s gaze for long moments.

His expression remained perfectly calm. Absolutely no trace of killing wrath marred his features.

Yet for some reason, Ron still paled and looked away.

“True. You got me there, Ron. But you gotta remember, I had a Bronze-tier pain collar searing through my soul less than half a day ago.”

Eric shrugged nonchalantly, trying not to be bothered when both Yuki and Emily’s gaze filled with such unbearable pity that he couldn’t stand it. “Anyway, if that doesn’t fuck you all to hell and back, if you’re not left a gibbering wreck after being forced to endure the same, Ron, then let me be the first to say that you’re a better man than I. But since I have no time to break down and cry my heart out to nonexistent therapists who probably met their end in an Orc fire pit, I just gotta deal with my shit in the only way I know how.”

“By giving our enemies the ultimate smackdown, beating the motherfucking tar out of any monster that gets in our way!” Jack said, boldly crossing the invisible line no one else seemed to dare, giving Eric a fist bump he hadn’t been expecting but appreciated quite a bit.

It was clear that Jack, at least, could relate to a berserker’s desperate fury far better than the elite offspring among them. And the pain and horror of being forced to live in the shell of a doomed city that stunk of death and desperation, so many innocent souls thrown into the flames, was a bitter bond they both shared.

“My man Eric Orcbane! Half-elf badass to the bitter end.”

“Damn right!” Eric said, standing up and cracking his neck and rotating his shoulders, happy to find his fucked up hand as good as new once more. “Now I don’t know about you, but there’s a dungeon boss and what I’m betting is a fucking sweet first clear bonus with our names on it, and I sure as hell aim to collect.”