Dozens of eyes cast furious gazes at Vern, and he could only imagine what the blood-soaked villain they saw staring back must have looked like in their eyes. This hadn’t been the way he had wanted to survive, but there didn’t seem to be a way back from here now.

There was another problem, Vern was still far from a seasoned warrior. In the previous fight, his berserker rage had fuelled his combat, and it hadn’t seemed overly problematic that he didn’t really know what he was doing. However, against the brunt of the pygmy village, Vern hesitated. How exactly was he meant to go about this? Just charge headlong at them? He couldn’t stay where he was, it likely wouldn’t take long for them to revert to the blowguns, and Vern wasn’t certain the same trick would work twice. Or if they possessed more deadly poisons for that matter.

“Take advantage of my aid, I can only offer it once.” The golden woman intruded once more, her hands rising to her temples as the message entered Vern’s thoughts. A brightening golden hue then expanded from her temples, before being snubbed out in a flash of golden light that washed across the pygmy army in an instant.

Something instinctual told Vern that the woman’s attack would be short-lived, and when he saw the pygmies grasping for their heads, he knew he had to take advantage.

Dashing forward, Vern began to swing his blood claymore with reckless abandonment. The heavy blade met little resistance as it crashed into the pygmies one after another – the peculiar jade-bark armor only serving to momentarily slow the claymore when swung at full strength. And even when it did block an attack, the force of the oversized sword bruised skin and shattered bone beneath it.

It was the first time Vern consciously wielded the weapon, and even he was surprised at the ease with which he swung it. He had gained strength since arriving here, no doubt, but this was something different. It was as if the claymore was a part of him, and he wielded it with the ease he might a near-weightless rapier or dagger. But the weapon’s weight was undeniable, it didn’t make sense as he felt crushing blows slam against its unfortunate victims.

Half of the armored pygmies had already fallen by the time the golden woman’s ability had faded, and they regained composure.

Vern might not have been in his berserker state any longer but with so many corpses spilling blood all around him, he felt invincible, and his strength matched that feeling.

The closest pygmies defiantly charged Vern, but it was a repeat of earlier. For every strike they landed, Vern landed one of his own. Whilst Vern’s blade crushed and killed, the daggers and spears of the pygmies only managed to carve wounds that were quickly healed by the increasingly large number of corpses dotted across the battlefield.

No amount of battle fervor could stem the growing sense of dread that crept across the remaining pygmies, and as Vern cut through the last of the elites, the civilian flock began to flee.

It was a chaotic rout, and soon the remaining pygmies had entirely fled into the forest surrounding the temple, only the chieftain still holding his ground.

Raising his staff, the eye sockets of the skull atop it glowing a foreboding orange, the chieftain leaped forward. He had stood atop the stairway that led into the temple, and his dive had sent him charging down on Vern from a height of about two meters. But the distance was too great between the two, and the chieftain landed a few meters from Vern, slamming his staff into the ground.

A ripple of unseen energy flowed from the staff and spread out from where it had landed, uprooting stone bricks in its path.

It wasn’t overly deadly, and Vern’s brow crooked as it passed harmlessly underneath him. However, as Vern was forced to surf the tide of dislodging stone bricks beneath him, the chieftain rushed forward.

Unable to gain his footing, Vern was set off-balance, and unable to defend as the double-sided axe bore down on him, opening terrifying gashes against his shoulder, then back across his chest.

But this was a terrible place to test Vern’s combat prowess. The courtyard had essentially been filled with corpses by now, and the blood of the fallen drenched the ground around them.

Vern’s wounds were already healing themselves as the giant pygmy jumped back to avoid a clumsy swing from the blood claymore. But that hadn’t deterred the chieftain, and the moment Vern’s swing passed, he had dashed back into range, landing twice more, once against Vern’s thigh, and another against his left arm.

Grunting, Vern whipped his claymore back around, his swings gaining in momentum and furiosity as the ground settled around them and he rebalanced.

But again, the chieftain dodged, only to dart back into range and leave another sizeable gash before retreating once more.

With every wound healed, blood drained from the battlefield floor, leaving the shriveled husks of the dead behind.

Another gash opened on Vern’s shoulder as he furiously waded forward, missing another strike. But this time, it did not heal immediately, and Vern was forced to take a step for the first time.

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Alien words escaped the pygmy’s lips before it charged forward once more, releasing a torrent of strikes that opened several new wounds across Vern’s battered body.

Every power has its limits, Vern thought as he misstepped, putting himself off-balance as another deadly strike rushed toward his face.

On one knee, the golden woman clutched at her temple, a bright flash of gold shooting out as she lost balance and fell to the ground.

Stumbling, the chieftain shrieked, sending his axe off course and harmlessly careening toward the ground. An agonizing grimace crossed the giant pygmy’s face as its fingers scratched at its temple and forehead.

Vern didn’t wait, darting forward and driving his massive sword through the agonized chieftain’s chest. As death twisted the chieftain’s expression, it almost seemed at peace, as if the mental agony that had clawed at its mind was actually worse than being skewered by Vern.

Near instantly blood began to travel down the claymore and into Vern’s hands, healing him before he toppled over from the wounds left by the chieftain. Unfortunately, the chieftain was sucked dry before all of Vern’s wounds had healed, and he was forced to make do with several shallow wounds still covering much of his body.

Remembering the woman, Vern’s attention darted back to the cage, spotting his savior lying face down. Rushing over, Vern landed a labored strike against the cage’s lock, smashing it apart.

Groaning against the pain of his wounds, Vern continued on to the mysterious woman. Uncertain whether or not alien veins and arteries worked the same as humans did, Vern nonetheless search for a pulse. He wouldn’t have to look for long, because the moment his fingers touched her skin, the alluring scent of blood and the intoxicating thump of her heart drew an insatiable hunger from him. He felt his body wanting to heal itself, wanting to steal the woman’s blood to make it happen and had to push himself away from the unconscious figure to stop himself.

She was alive at least, and that’s all the reassuring Vern needed to redirect his attention to his status page as he sobered his urges.

Vern’s eyes almost jumped from their sockets when he realized he had gained a full five levels. Not that it was overly surprising, he had essentially just wiped out an entire village – including a fairly strong chieftain.

Furthermore, an envelope glowed green in the top right corner. Smirking, Vern shifted his attention to it and a prompt appeared in his view.

Quest Completed: Dogmatic fanatics; slay or be sacrificed. Grade C-

Rewards:

Bracers of featherweight: Upon use - reduces the weight of its user by eighty percent for up to one minute per day. Time may be spent over multiple uses.

Five hundred coppers

Twenty-five hundred bonus experience

"Level up – level seventeen acquired."

Vern groaned as he read the notification, even if he was glad to see another level up thanks to the quest experience. The quest had been damn hard, and he doubted many others at his level would have made it out alive. All that just to be graded C minus? However, he had to admit he did practically die during it, and that likely had an effect on the result.

A new icon appeared after that at the top left, with three zeros, one beside a red coin, a gold coin, and a silver coin, whilst the final copper-looking coin displayed five hundred. Intrigued, Vern glanced at the red coin a moment, wondering what it signified, but when nothing happened decided to move on.

He still wondered where the bracers were meant to be, but the moment he did, they appeared – laying in front of him, appearing out of nowhere.

The bracers were rather simple leather straps that wrapped around Vern’s forearms, embroidered by an impressively crafted metal feather that lay over the outer wrist of both bracers. Overall, they looked delicate, like something Vern could imagine an elf wearing. And he wasn’t particularly sure how exactly he would make use of reducing his weight. Altogether, it was a fairly disappointing reward, and Vern wished he had received something that would give him an obvious combat boost. However, since he didn’t have any other equipment yet, he went ahead and strapped them on.

Reminding himself he still had thirty attribute points to spend, Vern then moved on to leveling. Although hadn’t received another ability point, making Vern wonder if that meant he would only receive one every ten levels.

Having almost died, Vern also wondered if his decision to just increase his constitution and toughness was a good idea. And instead decided to increase health this time, after all, levels seemed to rack up fairly quickly, and a few points in health hardly seemed like a decision that would ruin his build. Eight points went to health, five to strength, five to speed, three to dexterity, three to constitution, and five to toughness. Which left one point remaining. Vern hummed as he scanned the list, finally deciding to place it in endurance, a stat he just realized he had probably overlooked.

“Probably should get that up,” Vern mumbled as he placed the point in endurance.

Strength 25 --> 30

Luck 6

Perception 10

Constitution 17 --> 20

Dexterity 17 --> 20

Mana 8

Endurance 15 --> 16

Health 22 --> 30

Wisdom 8

Tech 16

Intelligence 10

Charisma 8

Toughness 15 --> 20

Willpower 10

Spirituality 4

Speed 25 --> 30

Ultimately, even if he was a bit disappointed with his reward, Vern was just glad he had survived. And all the experience that came with it? That was a pretty good bonus.

Taking a seat across the cage from the golden woman, Vern figured he didn’t have anything left to do besides waiting.

Soon hours passed and despite Vern’s reluctance, fearing the remaining pygmies might return, he dozed off.

“Wake!” Commanded a voice entering Vern’s dreams, and with a startled jump, he awoke.

“Finally,” sneered the golden woman who stood over Vern.