“So you're that bigshot, eh?” a burly dwarf named Ingolf the Mighty pried as soon as the party left the lobby.

“Who's our new companion?” Carl responded in kind.

“That's my dad,” Lissome Shot acknowledged, slightly ashamed.

“What's up with that tone, Di?”

“Dad, behave yourself!” the girl admonished harshly. “Sorry, brother Carl, he's a normie, and a noob …”

“Hey, I can swing this axe!”

“Yeah? Let's see you embarrass us all again!”

“Whoa, I didn't choose to be a dwarf, it was your grandpa's genius idea! It's not my fault I can't control this body too well. I wanted to be a human, but no! He knows better what's–”

“Dad!”

As much as Carl wanted to laugh at the quibbling, comical duo of dwarven parent and elven child, he cut the shenanigans short.

“Alright guys, team privilege is open, so you go and select gray wolves' den at a gate next to the bureau entrance. You can embark and Toothy will wait for me outside. I'll get my reward from the system shop and be right back.”

“Gray wolves' den? I thought we were going to the black–”

“Dad! Be quiet! Sorry, brother Carl …”

But Carl only smiled.

“Okay, just don't trip over on the stairs now, you klutz!”

Bursting through the crowd and into the Expedition Association administration, Carl appreciated the hidden effect of his appearance – provisional respect! After all, it wasn't so easy to stand still when a blood-soaked maniac rushed in your direction at full sprint.

Unfortunately, he immediately got disappointed – the queues were even longer than last time. More and more of the low rank dungeons were being conquered, as players gradually improved their chances of encountering bosses in various ways, and there was a long list to pick from, so it would be quite some time before the options got exhausted and the bureau emptied out.

“Oh come on, wasn't there supposed to be no waiting in the tutorial?”

As Carl looked around, standing in the middle of the huge, bustling department, he noticed a Clerk waving to him to come over, which he promptly did.

“Lord Beast Slayer, how may I help you today?”

“Rank 4 reward.”

“Of course. Please, follow me.”

And just like that, Carl got invited into one of the offices housing the system shop portals for ranks 1-4.

“Hey, what is this?! How come he gets to skip the line?” numerous players voiced their outrage.

“My apologies, he has priority,” the petite female receptionist excused herself unceremoniously.

“What?!”

“There's no such thing here!”

Leaving the shocked mob behind, Carl nodded at the deputy behind the desk, who greeted him courteously, and resolutely stepped into the chromatic vortex within a white marble portal. Unwilling to waste any time, he commanded the system to show him bite sleeves, and got presented mere five options. Went to prove how niche the item was.

“Hmm, I think this one will be the easiest to repair.”

[Hardened Steel Bite Sleeve] (great quality, arm guard)

Materials: Hardened steel, linen, hardened leather.

This protective gear was crafted by an expert armorer and an advanced tailor.

Surface: Covered fully by overlapping hardened steel plates riveted to each other and to the leather lining, this arm guard is not recommended for the training of canids.

Filling: Multi-layer linen provides ample cushioning to the deformation of the metal surface.

Lining: Segments of hardened leather allow a decent range of motion while maintaining a high degree of stiffness.

“Break your fangs on this!” Carl grinned playfully.

On his way out, he briefly gave the deputy a directive to let all interested locals know of his interview venue at the arena and his moral standard requirements.

“I should have done that to begin with. Oh well, it's not like I'll ever run out of hopefuls.”

As he stepped through the door, the boisterous office suddenly quieted.

“Carry on.” Carl disregarded the gawkers, aware of the sensation he was causing. As expected, he heard murmurs relating his name to last night's events. It was only a matter of time before his title got revealed, but he obviously wouldn't actively do so.

Arriving in the familiar forest, he took in a deep breath of the pleasant ambience. He was ready to roll.

“Heads-up, guys. Protecting Toothy takes priority. We're going straight for the boss, no detours.”

“I thought the boss only rarely spawns,” Ingolf interjected.

“Shhh!” his daughter demanded.

“Here, everyone eat this meal and drink this juice, grab a few spares as well. Toothy, take these potions and use them sporadically, only when you think your perception is lacking.”

“Isn't this stuff expensive? How are we supposed to make profit?”

“Dad, I told you to be quiet!”

“It's all of inferior quality, while four rank 4 rewards are worth around 20 gold. It pays off to speed up the process.”

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Done with the instructions, Carl took out an unremarkable scroll.

“Spirits of the fallen, I challenge you on this battlefield!”

As he finished the incantation in his thoughts, the peak quality Scroll of Threat silently glowed red and then abruptly crumbled into tiny bits, which burned to ashes mid-air.

“M-Master Lionheart … what … was that?” Theodore stammered. Carl could easily discern that the shuddering NPC was the only one to react to the activation. Even the elves didn't feel anything.

“How high is his perception, I wonder?”

“That – was your cue, Toothy.” Carl smiled and patted the flustered huntsman. “Let's run!”

And so the party took off for the center of the woods, Carl right behind Theodore, then the two girls, Looming Oak, and Ingolf barely keeping up.

“Guys, wait up! My legs are shorter, so I have to spend more stamina!”

“Grrr, we should have just left him at the portal,” Lissome Shot grumbled.

“Don't dwarves have excellent vitality?” Carl, whose ears picked up everything, inquired.

“He only has nominal value, brother Carl … and his gear is very heavy … but he has 25 strength!” Merciful Breeze explained awkwardly.

“Pass him some more juice, then,” Carl advised simply.

Not daring to be careless, Carl adjusted the tempo to allow them to stick together. One thing he understood for sure – the scroll he recited was a curse. It wasn't just that the boss would spawn more often, but the packs should also become larger and full of alphas and prowlers, but most prominently – the roaming dire wolves would become much more of a menace. His suspicions soon got confirmed, as Toothy was finding a ton of traces.

“So we're just gonna get 20 gold for free? What's the catch?” Ingolf, who took advantage of a small breather when Toothy was scanning the surroundings from a tall tree with his monocular, now addressed what had been bothering him.

“Dad! Stop being a nuisance or we won't take you with us any more!”

“Relax, Liss, it's a valid question,” Carl appeased. “There is no catch. Uncle Time has my recognition, so I don't mind helping him out.” This made the dwarf recoil and purse his lips. “By the way, how do you like your new bow?”

“Oh, it's awesome! I can instakill black wolves now if I land a good shot!” the elven archer boasted joyously, holding her prize high. “And even if I don't, it's much easier to finish them off before they run away. Our profits have more than doubled!”

“Brother Carl, I don't mean to be nosy, but how rare are those scrolls? You used it to guarantee the boss spawning, right? Something like this cannot be cheap …” Looming Oak investigated worriedly.

“They won't guarantee it.” Carl shook his head, then pointed upwards. “He will. I don't care if we wipe, but he cannot die.”

“Wow, really? Is it a special skill? Can I learn it from him?” Lissome Shot fired off with heated anticipation.

“Are you ready to take on a boss and its cohort?” Carl chuckled. “Talk to him when I'm offline. I'll tell him to teach you what he can. He uses some incapacitating poison, and he's an expert at skinning as well. He tutored me up to advanced rank.”

“Woah!”

“… And it seems he found a clue.”

“Let's go, Master Lionheart, I need to confirm something.”

In the next moment, they were standing in the middle of tracks so obvious, that no interpretation was required.

“That fast?” Carl was amazed.

“I think we got lucky, Master Lionheart. We weren't even attacked on the way here.”

“Alright, the plan is straightforward. Stay close to me, I'll be soloing the boss. You guys stick together and protect Toothy. If, by any chance, I fail, you do whatever you can to help him up a tree. We will then return to get him after reviving.”

With this, Carl took out his shining new toy, eliciting more rave.

“Haha, Master Lionheart, they'll lose all teeth on you now!” Theodore cheered gaily.

Soon, however, his expression took a drastic turn.

“M-Master Lionheart … should I … perhaps …”

“Can you shoot from a tree?”

“I can, if it's a good one.”

“Choose one, then.”

“There!”

This unexpected development was due to the stupefying amount of … dire wolves! There was the prowler boss, but beside it – four alphas and a dozen commons. Then, a throng of gray wolves started emerging in droves. Who knew how many were there.

“No-no, you guys stay on the ground. Chill, I've got this.” Carl laughed heartily. He only wanted Toothy on a tree because the numbers were too big and the NPC could get hurt. It was a goose laying golden eggs, after all, and Carl could not lose it.

“Okay, I now have 300% mana regeneration with the boost, that's 21 per second for 20 seconds … two potions should suffice.” He made a quick calculation.

There was no need to go far from the tree. The dire wolves were coming …

“Let the fun begin!”

He was itching for a proper fight – and that was it!

The boss was gracious enough to deliver itself as an appetizer. In that case …

Jarring Fist!

Carl was elated. He didn't feel the urge to intimidate or resort to any tricks. The mobs before him looked ripe for the picking. His mind was light and he wasn't even bracing for the pain, as if the short sleep he got was enough to stabilize his freshly developed foundations. It was time for a satisfying slaughter!

The sleeve, although it weighed a little, flew nonetheless. Then came the crunch …

Vicious Hook!

“Very good.” Carl smirked, while falling to the ground from the collision. He corrected the blade alignment based on his previous experience, trying to find the small brain, or at least its immediate vicinity. And there it was …

Albeit no congratulations from the system came, Carl perceived the instant death. His arm was intact, and all that remained was to take the wallop of a speeding third of a tonne, which was never safe. But he wouldn't be crushed so easily!

He got to his feet just in time to receive the first alpha.

Ripping Claw!

Backhanding it, Carl scraped the bottom of the lupine's jaw as it reeled back to evade, and it was enough …

Ripping Claw!

As he shifted his weight forward, Black Fang returned in a forehand, cleaving the exposed throat spectacularly and inflicting agony. The alpha on his right was next.

Jarring Fist!

Avoiding the sleeve inaptly, the dire wolf got punched in the chin. It was far from enough to put it out, and it subsequently decided to bite, but a …

Vicious Hook!

… was already on its way to finish the job, the knuckle dagger held in hammer grip arriving from a blind spot beneath the head. The lethally wounded alpha collapsed on top the vanquished prowler, over which it was standing.

Carl grinned seeing the other two and their common escort. Despite baring their own fangs furiously, growling and snarling with vicious intent hellbent on getting revenge, they now finally recognized the caliber of the enemy they met on this doomsday.

“Don't be shy. Come – there's more where that came from!”