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Etherious- A LitRPG Story
Chapter 128- A Boring Battle

Chapter 128- A Boring Battle

Arthur stretched as he waited the final sixty seconds before the final floor started. His body felt far more limber than it ever had before, courtesy of the reforging the Dragons Will had put his body through. He was almost certain he could give a contortionist a run for their money right now which was definitely unfair when all his abilities came out of a bottle.

Arthur set himself some ground rules. As much as he wanted to rush into the next layer, guns akimbo and new skills flared for use, he’d be limiting himself to nothing but his body for the first wave. It was important that he became aware of the new baseline his body was capable of before he moved on to the fun stuff. I hope it’s still challenging.

The final few seconds trickled away and Arthur felt a teleportation spell grip him for transportation. This time, it felt like he could resist it a little if he wished, maybe even cast it off altogether if he really pushed himself. He didn’t know if this was a natural result of his increased power but he suspected his Draconic Vitality was the main culprit for the newest ability. The stat appeared to do far more than what its barebones description suggested.

Arthur didn’t resist and let the magic take hold of him. A strange lurching sensation later, and he was translocated to the final floor of the locus. Opening his eyes to take in his new location, he almost sighed in relief to see that the biome for the final layer wasn't a copy-paste like the previous two. It was a mixture of African savannah and the marshy swamp that made up the hydra’s domain, a contradiction of sorts, but the locus somehow made it work. It certainly didn’t have the uncanny valley feel the previous floor did.

The final layer was different to its predecessors, in that it had a very distinct boundary to it. Whereas before, he could go on walking in one direction for hours and trust special magic to keep him going too far, he was pretty sure the wall of darkness a few miles out signified the end of this layer. It rose up into the sky as high as his enhanced eyes could see, which was more than a little strange and reminded him of the unreality of the realm he was currently in.

The sun was at its zenith, directly above his head, a ball of flaming light that was far closer than Earth's personal star. Arthur idly noted that the patches of marshy ground shouldn’t exist with the presence of so much heat. It just served as another reminder that they’d broken into this locus a little too early. Arthur suspected the locus had taken parts of the previous floors and merged them with this one to conserve energy.

Finally done with his inspection of the terrain, Arthur finally turned to the system notification in front of him.

You have entered the final layer of the trials of Hercules, A Test of endurance. Stamina shall be consumed 50% faster whilst on this floor. Skills used shall gradually increase in cost the longer you use them whilst here. Survive seven waves to complete the locus. Complete ten to receive the best rewards.

Wave 1- 49 goblins. 1 hobgoblin chieftain

Beginning in 52 seconds

Prepare yourself.

That certainly explained the strange weight that had been placed upon his shoulders the second he’d entered the floor. He’d initially thought it was the oppressive heat weighing him down. Turns out the penalties of this trial were quite literally placed upon his shoulders. A 50% increase in his stamina expenditure would compound with his decreased regeneration rates, but Arthur was certain he could manage. It had to be this hard to at least make things challenging.

The increased skill cost might prove to be an issue, but if he limited himself to a skill or two for the first few waves, he was sure he could manage the more difficult ones. He was lucky in the sense that his skills were independently strong. For someone like Alyssia, whose entire skill set was used in conjunction to generate her incredible speed, this floor would prove incredibly difficult. Maybe even impossible. It was lucky she’d bowed out early before she became useless.

Arthur baulked at the harsh thought. I guess it's true enough, but she carried me pretty damn hard against the Hydra. It's not fair to just think of her as a leech. His judgmental thoughts made him realise that he was probably carrying some repressed resentment in him for the alverin woman because of how she’d treated him. It was something he hadn't been aware of and was definitely something he needed to work through as soon as possible, certainly before and if he ever met her again.

You didn’t stand up for yourself when she was here. He reminded himself. There's no point bitching about it now that she’s gone. Maybe it wasn’t the healthiest outlook, but it was certainly true. He wouldn’t be one of those fools who daydreamed of comebacks days after an argument had ended. And it wasn't that deep anyway. The past was the past and it existed behind him. He had destinations to get to.

Taking a deep breath, Arthur centred himself just as the goblins began to appear. They just popped into existence, first one, then two, right at the edge of the floor, almost as if they had stepped out of the wall of darkness itself. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how you looked at it, this layer was a wave-based challenge for a reason. The monsters wouldn’t be spawned in pairs or trios for him to deal with at his leisure.

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A second after the first goblins' arrival, there were ten, and a half second later, the full contingent of 50 monsters had appeared, with the hobgoblin chieftain standing at the front of their rank and file. Well, calling it a rank and file was a little generous; they were more a rabble of small green humanoids with a varying distribution of weaponry ranging from adequate to piss-poor tools he wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole.

The hobgoblin leading them, however, was a different story. Standing at a comfortable height north of six feet, he brandished a massive two-handed war axe that glinted in the fake sunlight. A quick use of identify showed he was level 120, a full 30 levels higher than the rest of his minions, and 20 levels higher than Arthur was. The fact that the dragon's core hadn’t pushed him to level 101 was a testament to how difficult it was for him to level now and it was a shame reaching level 100 and getting a class hadn't given him any stats.

Apparently, that was a thing, just not important enough for anyone to write down or tell him. The levelling requirements he had, being what they were right now, he’d be pleasantly surprised if completing all ten waves netted him a single level up. Arthur briefly debated whether or not to rush towards the rapidly approaching monsters but decided against it. It’d be annoying if he rushed to one end of the floor to confront the beasts and then be forced to run to the opposite end because they decided to spawn there for the next wave. No, it was smarter to conserve energy and wait for them here in the middle.

When the hoard of monsters was a mile away, the chieftain raised a horn to his lips and trumpeted for all he was worth. The distance between them being what it was, it took a few seconds for the sound to reach him but when it did, it hit with the physical force of a speeding car. At least it hit his surroundings that hard. Arthur stood there unfazed as shrubbery was uprooted and grass flattened all around him in a twenty-metre radius.

He idly noted that the large span of greenery between them hadn’t suffered the same fate, which meant the chief's clarion call was a targeted attack of some kind, bypassing the intermediary space from destruction. A system notification confirmed his suspicions a second later.

You have been struck with Enraging Shout of the Chieftain (rare).

You have registered its effects.

All goblinoid's stats shall be increased by 10% for the next twenty minutes. Goblin attacks shall apply the debuff Encroaching madness I

You are resistant to this effect.

Turns out the level 120 monster wasn’t ready to face someone with over 3000 effective human constitution. Go figure. Arthur grinned as he saw the look of confusion appear on the hobgoblin's face as he shook his head vigorously. Looked like a failed casting had a backlash of some kind. The horde of monsters resumed their approach, though far slower than they’d been moving before.

I don't blame them. I’d be scared to face me too. With the cautionary pace their leader set, it took the goblins seven minutes to reach him. The moment they did though, it was as if a switch was flipped, and the hobgoblin bellowed a challenge, even as his minions rushed forwards, their own warbling cries accompanying his roar and creating a terrible symphony which hurt to listen to.

The hobgoblin, or Mavak as his skill had identified him, seemed content to let his troops rush forward, perhaps out of a misguided attempt to soften his enemy before claiming the kill for himself. It was an arrangement Arthur was more than happy with and he closely watched the leading goblin. It was a skinny creature, all knees and elbows with the stature of an eleven-year-old child. The rictus grin and foaming saliva at its lips, as well as the dangerously sharp teeth, disabused any observer of the notion that this creature was anything but feral.

Arthur didn’t react at all as the monster came closer. Six metres. Five. Four. Three. The moment the goblin passed the one-metre mark, he exploded into motion, so fast he was certain the green humanoid didn’t even see what happened. The creature certainly felt it though, when Arthur’s front kick connected with its chest with the sound of a gunshot.

Arthur felt ribs crack beneath his foot, so loud and so fast it felt like he had kicked dead wood instead of a living creature. If he’d put his all into it, Arthur wouldn’t have been surprised if his leg went through the goblin in its entirety. As things were, the small humanoid shot backwards at thrice the speed it had approached, dead the moment its forward motion had stopped. The dagger it had been clutching so tightly went flying off towards the left where it found itself embedded in another creature's arm.

By this time, another goblin was upon him- man or woman, Arthur couldn’t tell- the pickaxe in its hands on a direct collision course with his face. The makeshift weapon looked like it was moving in slow motion, and he guessed the monsters had around a hundred agility, less than a fifth of his. Arthur didn’t know if that made him five times faster than them, but it certainly felt like it. He was like an adult fighting children, they were in entirely different weight classes.

After the first four exchanges, Arthur realised this would be a very boring fight. Even with their number advantage, the goblins posed zero threat to him. Literally. He’d allowed a sabre wielder to strike his open palm and it had done nothing. Even if he’d wanted, this was a fight he simply couldn’t lose. The moment he came to that conclusion took the fun out of everything and he tried to spice things up by making strikes he’d never consider in a real fight, the sort of combinations you’d find in a choreographed movie scene that looked devastating but were anything but.

That was fun for the first two minutes but quickly lost its charm. This battle was just bullying. Mavak watched on imperiously as his soldiers were cut down like wheat which Arthur chalked up to locus restrictions acting upon him. Even the most suicidal creatures would have fled by now. A natural-born monster would have listened to their preservation instincts and run away. Mavak just stood there like he owed him some money.

In less than ten minutes, Arthur was finished dealing with the chaff and approached the hobgoblin leader. The boss finally decided to move, hefting his two-handed war axe before swinging to the fences, aiming directly at his neck. A decapitation blow. Arthur didn’t even try to dodge the deadly strike.

No, he caught the blade.