image [https://i.imgur.com/xcQhW8Y.jpg]

As a magnificent circular golden shield, engraved with decorative carvings and encrusted with jewels, connected with my face in a wet, sickening splat, I liquified from the force of the blow. Hurtling through the air like a shooting star, I blasted straight through a massive pillar—yet even that colossal crash, sending rubble and stone exploding around me, didn’t halt my momentum as parts of the coliseum’s stadium crumbled all around my still-tumbling form.

You’d think that would have surely killed me, but instead, I discovered something astonishing—it was possible to get hit so motherfucking HARD that you didn’t feel a thing. Who would have ever thought?

I hit the ground with a resounding splash, my form splattering dramatically across the broken stones, mounds of sand, and scattered bones. Yet, with the fabulous finesse of someone who would never overexaggerate their own tale... Nope, I would never lie or embellish the moment. Nope. Nope.

Where was I? Oh, right! As if choreographed, I gathered my gooey blob of a body and executed a flamboyant flip out of my still-moving muck, reforming my body as if I were an angelic gymnast vaulting from a dark abyss. I landed on my feet with perfect grace, like a kung fu master ready to face her next challenger.

As my silk face rewove itself, I fixed a steely orange glare on three impressive marble statues that had taken their positions, ready for my next fight. Meanwhile, the coliseum continued to unleash a shower of ancient stones around me, the sound of falling rocks ear-shattering as dust and sand swirled through the air. But there I stood, undeterred, the very picture of elegance and power—or so I’d have you—and me—believe. Yep! It was totally like that, and definitely not me slowly oozing upward in a staggered daze, blinking and swaying in total confusion at the statues that had just bitch-slapped the unliving shit out of me.

Shouldn’t it be living shit?

Nah. Not after munching on zombies, it wouldn’t.

I chuckled at my own inner joke as I glared at my three opponents—not swaying... at all. Not me. Uh-uh.

There they stood, white-marble warriors, sculpted like nude statues of Greek gods, each one eyeing me with molten golden eyes. One was a muscular Hercules, his chiseled silhouette and beard only enhanced by the mesmerizing engravings on a double-sided battleaxe—bigger than me—casually slung over his shoulder as though it were a twig.

Next to him, a leaner figure, still perfectly sculpted to accentuate every muscle, including the sexy V-shaped abs that narrowed down to his crotch. He leaned on an ornately detailed golden claymore, its tip buried in the ground, the hilt at eye level.

Lastly, the one who had shield-bashed the unliving shit out of me—a woman with a posture of defiance. Her shield held out before her, her other hand clutching a splendid golden spear, pointed at me, akin to something more suited to be wielded by an archangel. However, my eyes kept drifting to her breasts. What? They were enormous for a marble sculpture, and seriously, how and why did stone manage to jiggle?

I wouldn’t say I was intimidated, but let’s just say they were fucking huge—and made of marble, perhaps granite? The statues, not her breasts. Well, those too!

Seriously, I can’t eat or poison a damn rock! And hell, I wasn’t even sure if I could use Absorb on them if, by some miracle, I managed to pull off a win. I eyed the chimera’s carcass behind the three statues, my black tongue flicking out to wet my lips as I savored the thought of the feast tantalizingly close yet so far. Then, my gaze swung over to the entrance where Redtail stood, his reptilian face a picture of horror, like he was about to bolt. I might even consider bolting with him—not that I’d ever admit that aloud.

Hey! Look at me. I’m getting better at reading lizard expressions.

With a dramatic sigh, I bravely took my first step forward and—boom!—faceplanted right into the ground. Yup, definitely still swaying here. That attempt at gymnastic grace? Total crap, let’s be real. And my rewoven face? Imagine Spoooder-Man after a ruthless sledgehammer date, where every hit screamed personal vendetta to the face. Muttering a symphony of curses that would make a sadist blush, I hauled myself up, dusted off what was left of my dignity, and immediately did a wild propeller spin with my arms just to avoid a jagged-looking rock the size of a fist going up my ass—it wouldn’t be the first time. Yep, still riding the concussion train to crazy town.

No one saw a thing—nothing to see here!

Um… why are they staring at me like that?

Ugh, actually... how am I even still conscious? That hit should have sent my gray matter flying right out of me, at the very least.

Is it because there’s nothing in my head but black goo?

Then it clicked. I snapped my fingers, my eyes widening. “Sleep immunity!”

As the realization dawned on me, the world split into two horrifying snapshots. First, those dead, lifeless eyes—a woman’s, staring back from the depths of my memory like a distant dream I couldn’t quite grasp. Then, reality shifted into full-blown Hollywood drama. A massive battleaxe, wielded by that bearded nude bodybuilder statue that looked like it had overdosed on steroid shakes, hurtled toward me.

I didn’t just dodge; I summoned all my plot armor and Burst, zipping past with the speed granted by fantasy bullshit, feeling the axe’s deadly whisper graze me. Fueled by dark, slimy adrenaline, I barely noticed when the air behind me erupted with the sound of destruction—the axe had obliterated the spot where I had just stood, shattering stone and undoubtedly bending a few laws of physics.

However, the brief impact from behind was accompanied by a sudden golden flash, leaving me with a severe sphincter pucker effect as my dark flesh sizzled slightly.

“What the fuck was that?” I gasped, turning just in time to see a claymore swinging toward me, now glowing ominously with the same golden light.

Unfortunately, Burst was still taking its sweet time on cooldown—mental note: tinker with that timer later to figure out how long before I can reuse it. I’m taking a wild guess it’s less than thirty seconds, but then again, that’s coming from someone with a notoriously horrible sense of time.

Stupid Magic and her stupid system!

With no speedy escape available, I decided to go full Shadowcat—wait, does anyone even know who that is? The Ghost, then. No? Alright, how about Danny Phantom? People know him, right? Anyway, the reference doesn’t matter—oh, Lemillion! Total badass.

I won’t lie, my little goth ass always wanted to write an urban fantasy story, something like Wick meets Potter-esque, with an assassin wizard seeking revenge for his slain family using that skill—I’ll have to share the whole plot someday. Oops… my bad. I’m rambling again—ADHD, am I right?

Names aside, I stood my ground and shifted into full vapor mode. Ethereal Mist activated just as the claymore’s blade swept through where I stood, slicing through what seemed like mere air. You’d think this would turn me into an untouchable wisp of gas—eek, let’s avoid the fart analogies, shall we?

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But not today. As the blade passed through, that ominous golden glow didn’t respect the usual ethereal boundaries. It seared through me like a hot knife through butter, tearing at the very essence of my vaporous form. The pain was real and raw, slicing not through flesh—because, what flesh?—but straight to the core of my being. I unleashed a scream, not just from pain but from pure, unadulterated rage, as if it echoed from some dark, demonic, eldritch recess of my soul.

V:\Ascension>SAFE_MODE

Holy Status Detected [SD]

Resist Status: None [Inactive]

Applying Resistances…

Resistance Unsuccessful

Holy Vulnerability in Full Effect

V:\>

Despite my agony, I couldn’t help but exclaim, “Holy. Shit!” as both the notification and I seemingly popped into existence.

Well, more like I snapped back to the thereal realm—thereal, that’s supposed to be the opposite of ethereal, right? No? Okay, I became solid again—oh, tangible! That’s the fucking word! The tangible realm... No, that sounds even worse. Metaphysical? Sorry, my mind likes to wander at times; it’s my happy place. And right now, amidst all this holy fucking pain, I desperately needed to be in my happy place.

Thankfully, I was still coherent enough to retaliate. A wave of burning death magic surged forward like a tidal wave, green with purple crests, smashing into the claymore-wielding statue. I unleashed Necrotic Flame, manic laughter masking my screams—ignore the black tears running down my silk face. Those are happy tears, certainly not ouchie tears. That said, Holy magic fucking sucks worse than Fire. I’m pretty sure the latter does more damage, but that golden shit hurts waaaaaay more!

I had no clue how much mana I was pumping into my skill—no indicator, and yes, I’ll keep bitching about that. The green wave of Necrotic Flame raged forward, but no sword sliced through. I almost burst into genuine laughter—not this pained, manic fake one I had going on. Almost. My joy was bashed short as a white marble fist shot through the flames and smashed into my chest. My left tit exploded into black goo as the fist followed through, my necrotic spell fizzling out just in time for me to notice the claymore dude off to the side, utterly unharmed, just standing there looking unimpressed. My eyes glanced forward, and I noticed the axe-wielding statue whose fist was buried in me.

“Not even a drink first?” I wheezed with a cough and a chuckle.

He lifted me off my feet and flung me off his fist like I was a baseball, sending me crashing into the far wall with a sickening splat.

Fuck!

I—I think these three are beyond me.

Surprisingly, I managed to stay conscious again; that Sleep immunity was proving to be a blessing. As fast as I could, I reformed my body—not swaying… okay! Yes, I was swaying like a drunk, again! Still, I kept my gaze locked on my two opponents—

“Wait, where’s the claymore dude?” I squeaked, glancing left and right, not finding him.

A shadow flickered across the ground, and my head snapped up. Above, a descending figure, sword held high, careened down at me.

“Oh, hell no!”

In utter panic, I lunged to the side and rolled just as the statue slammed into the ground like a falling meteor, stone and sand exploding everywhere. The impact sent me tumbling, narrowly avoiding the crushing blow. As quick as a dazed drunk could manage, I clambered to my feet, clenched my hand into a fist, and doubled down on my tactic that worked against the chimera. With a surge of desperation, I Burst forward, aiming straight at the nude statue.

These fuckers were a lot bigger than me, so I had to punch up to hit my target, and hit it—or them—I did! My fist connected with a sloppy splat as it liquified down to the wrist. For a long moment, I thought my passives were kicking in, as not only was I frozen, waiting to see the effects of my damage, but so was Mr. V-shaped abs. As the dust settled, I grew more confident that Paralysis was doing something. I looked up, and noticed the statue’s head slowly moving—which I didn’t think should happen if my skill was working—its eyes tracing the path from my outstretched arm, down to where my wrist had melted around its floppy, carved junk.

“Ha. Ha,” I chuckled awkwardly, “I’m not judging, but you’ve got to be cold. Honestly, that size isn’t doing you any justice.”

Still chuckling to myself, I started to yank and yank at the remains of my hand from his limp carved shaft and berries; it came free with a suction-like pop, sending me staggering back. Glancing at the statue, which was utterly unharmed and still rock-hard—literally, though embarrassingly limp.

“Oh, your poor wife,” I muttered, tossing in a quote from my favorite superhero.

The statue wasn’t amused. With a flash of marble fury, he snapped out with a free hand, grasping my head, lifting me off the ground, and hurling me over his shoulder. Unlike the wannabe Hercules statue, he didn’t aim across the stadium but straight down. I hit the ground with a rolling splat, reforming as I tumbled, then deforming, and reforming again in a slapstick sequence until I finally came to a stop not far from the chimera’s rotten carcass. And let me tell you, despite everything, it smelled absolutely amazing!

With a groan, I stood, stumbled, fell, then finally managed to stay upright, my head wobbling back and forth like a deranged bobblehead. That unintentional swaying must have saved my ass—or at least my head—as a massive golden spear whizzed past my cheek, striking the ground beside me. The impact sent a golden shockwave that blasted me a few meters forward in another graceless tumble as searing pain rocked my body.

Scrambling to my knees, I caught sight of the statue with the unnaturally bouncing breasts; she had hurled her spear at me. As I assessed my grim options, it was clear: none of my skills seemed effective against them, and my passives were about as useful as a bra on a marble statue. Actually, she could use a bra. Whatever! I was royally screwed.

That was the only thought in my mind as the busty statue charged, her circular shield raised like the hammer of a wrathful goddess, ready to smash me into the ground.

If I’m going to die, I suppose getting smashed by her isn’t the worst way to go out. I mean, dying while smashing?

Talk about going out with a bang!

I sighed, accepting my imminent demise. With my big girl panties pulled high, I didn’t flinch or cry as the end loomed near; she brought that shield down with such force it would have splattered me into mere droplets—I doubted I could come back from that. However, just as it came crashing down, it stopped with a massive thud, as if it had hit an invisible barrier.

Squinting with Mana Focus, I noticed mana swirling around the shield in elaborate swirls, coalescing into the form of a blue hand no bigger than my own. The most shocking part was that a single fingertip held the massive shield back as though it were merely balancing a sheet of paper.

The mana continued to condense, shaping an arm, then a shoulder, and finally a bare breast until, before me, stood a glowing blue woman. Wisps of pink vapor puffed in and out of existence around her ethereal form, contrasting sharply with her hair, which glowed a vibrant pink with whimsical blue flickers drafting through. But it was her eyes that caught me—their bright pink glare judging me as they looked down. Yes, I was on my knees before this apparition, but it wasn’t out of worship; it was because the arena was still spinning in my dazed head.

The woman rolled her eyes at me—actually rolled them.

“It’s too soon for you to die here,” she said, her tone dripping with condescension, as if talking to a child.

It was then that a memory, fleeting as if glimpsed in a dream, tickled the back of my mind.

“Do I know you?” I blurted out, nearly hiccuping through my stupor.

The ethereal woman shook her head, annoyance flickering across her glowing face. All I wanted was to take a nap, but couldn’t—stupid immunity—as I blinked away my confusion.

“I believe the name you have for me is, ‘cunt’?” she hissed.

“Oh!” I snapped my fingers in recognition, “You’re that cunt!”

Her eyes narrowed at me in threat, but she didn’t act as the shield creaked and groaned against her fingernail while the massive stone woman tried and failed to squash Magic. She flicked her nail with a sigh, sending the marble woman tumbling off balance.

The other two came charging, weapons raised, when a burst of power suddenly filled the stadium. The next thing I knew, the three marble figures were crashing against the coliseum walls, bringing down pillars and seats around them.

Magic turned back to me, and I won’t lie, I may have peed a little.

“These three aren’t dungeon bosses but the guardians of the dungeon core,” Magic stated.

“Well, they did a shitty job at guarding the core then,” I snorted.

“Blame the denizens of the Ockpool for removing the core from this place and placing it within their pathetic city,” she scoffed as her body started to evaporate. “Now, do as I’ve instructed and retrieve that core,” she commanded, glaring at me before disappearing entirely.

“Hey!” I called out. “Can I get some kind of mana indicator for this stupid system?”

Silence.

“Yeah, didn’t think so,” I grumbled, trying to stagger to my feet. “Fucking cunt,” I added.

Glancing around, I noticed the three statues slowly shifting beneath the rubble—clearly not dead!

Maybe I should hurry up and get the fuck out of here.

My eyes landed on the chimera carcass just lying there, and a smile spread across my face.

“Maybe a quick bite before I go.”

I glanced over to Redtail and noticed—

He bolted…