The crescent moon smiled down on Aiden, a false friend to bring him light. The smile was as metaphoric as it was literal since the moon’s crescent curved downwards from left to right.
Aiden stood with sword in hand, drawn and waiting. In front of him a congregation of goblins stood staring at him with a mix of confusion and anger.
While he had been the one to create the current plan he was working under, Aiden found himself hating the plan the more goblins he saw.
Ded had led them to a clearing filled with camp fires and a single tent settled in at the center surrounded by goblins. Ded had said there were only a handful of goblins over level 10. And while Aiden believed him, he still thought it was a difficult position to be in not knowing what goblin was what level.
It inevitably meant he would have to pull out all the stops for all the goblins.
Is there any other way?
The Order taught that every fight was to be handled as if it was fought with the fate of the world on the line. And if you couldn’t bring yourself to care for the world, then fight it as if every blow dealt would grant you your heart’s desire.
The leader of the Order wasn’t much of a motivational speaker but he’d built a terrifying enterprise, so he deserved some accolades for that.
Aiden reached into one of his belt pockets and slowly picked out an enchantment as the goblins slowly solidified into a mutual agreement. They were done being confused and were ready to be rid of him.
Behind them, the tent ruffled a little. It was large for a simple tent and was as wide as a house. Aiden hoped that was a sign that Otid and Taliner were finding success in their part of the plan.
Why did I choose this plan again? Aiden wondered, rolling the tiny orb in his hand. Because you want to level up and get it over with.
But it didn’t matter anymore, though. The plan had been made and he needed to carry out his part of it.
“Would be very hilarious if I died to some level 10s at this point,” he chuckled darkly.
The gentle silence of the night turned into incoherent mutterings as one goblin after the other started making sounds Aiden couldn’t understand. It was a standing theory amongst scholars of this world that goblins were intelligent species capable of communication.
The debate, however, was if they communicated like beasts such as dogs or if they communicated with complicated languages with human level intelligence.
Personally, Aiden liked to think it was the latter. It was difficult to believe monsters as cruel as goblins couldn’t communicate like humans.
It took a certain level of intelligence to be cruel.
“Alright then!” he announced and tapped the end of his sword against a piece of rock when he couldn’t see any other goblin loitering about. “Let’s get on with it then.”
The first goblin to charge at him did so leading a pack of four others. It held a massive branch in its hand that it swung like a club when it leaped to reach his head. The other three had weapons of their own, but with the club goblin in charge, Aiden paid them the littlest attention.
He ducked the first swing of the branch, pivoting so that he weaved himself into the middle of all four, evaded what looked like a sickle at the end of a chain, then his sword went dancing. There wasn’t much in the way of challenge. There was no threat of loss or defeat, merely what was and what could be.
Aiden’s sword came to an abrupt stop to the ovation of four notifications.
Congratulations! You have slain [Goblin Level 4].
Congratulations! You have slain [Goblin Level 6].
Congratulations! You have slain [Goblin Level 4].
Congratulations! You have slain [Goblin Level 5].
Aiden stared at the tip of his broadsword. It did not tremble. It did not shake. It was as straight as anything could be and as still as the moon in the sky.
Skill beats level almost every time.
It was a shaky truth that his mind refused to allow him accept as it brought up his only real encounter with the king’s Sage. How powerless he had been while his brother fought to save his life.
That was power. That was a level simple skill did not beat.
Aiden swung his sword in an arc, ridding it of goblin blood. His job tonight was to buy time for the others to deal with the main problem or clear the entire place of low level goblins so that there would be no interference with what the others were doing.
“Alright then!” he declared, sword held out to his side. “Come on! We don’t have all night!”
The entire front line of goblins inched forward and Aiden winced. He counted eight of them, easy.
“Eight,” he muttered to himself, worried, hopping on the balls of his feet to get the adrenaline going. “I can do eight… Right?”
As if sensing his indecision, they rushed him.
This wasn’t a controlled area. If he made enough mistakes, he could die. Death was not an option, so going all-out was the only reasonable response to his situation.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out another enchanted item. He rolled it along with the orb in his hand once, channeling mana into the both of them the way an [Enchanter] would. When he was done tracing the runes and sigils in them with mana, he let the first orb fall from his hand.
He’d picked both orbs for this specific purpose. They were an enchanter’s go-to when fighting a group at close range. And he had two of them.
At his level, their effects would be near insignificant. But he didn’t need them to be significant, he was fighting against monsters that were arguably also at his level.
The first orb hit the ground and exploded in a translucent orb with red streaks running along its surface like veins. It swallowed them whole.
You have activated [Orb of Lesser Slow].
Effect: 3% decrease is movement speed.
Duration: 00:00:12.
Radius: 0.0008km.
Aiden felt the effect of the enchantment the moment it activated. His muscles grew tense. The air was heavier. Everything felt as if he was moving through mud and every thing within the radius of the enchantment would suffer the same effect. He squeezed the second orb even though he didn’t need to as it came to life, igniting the mana inside him.
You have activated [Orb of Lesser Speed]
Effect: 3% increase in movement speed.
Duration: 00:00:12.
He stepped forward and swung a horizontal slash with both hands.
You have activated [Basic Swordsmanship].
A grey line trailed behind Aiden’s blade as it cleaved through the air. He felt the resistance of blade cutting through skin and bones but didn’t stop there. Twelve seconds was a lot of time in a fight but it was also, ultimately, not a lot of time.
Enchantments that slowed movement speed weren’t as popular as enchantments that increased them so the palace had only been able to get him two of them. As he stepped into his swing, bringing it down on the next goblin, he really hoped this group of goblins had the higher levels among them.
Congratulations! You have slain [Goblin Level 3].
Congratulations! You have slain [Goblin Level 6].
Congratulations! You have slain [Goblin Level 4].
Congratulations! You have slain [Goblin Level 4].
[Congratulations! You have Leveled Up!]
[Level 6 --> 7]
[You are now Level 7.]
…
Otid raised a hand, gesturing for Taliner to stop. They’d been working together long enough that he didn’t have to check to know she’d stopped.
There was something confusing about this part of the tent. From the front, the littlest moonlight they had served to illuminate it well enough. But from the back, where they were trying to sneak in through, it was as if the night had swallowed the moon.
Otid looked up. Yup, moon’s still there.
Then he looked at the tent.
Tent’s still black.
He rolled his eyes and sighed. Let’s get this over with then.
The plan was Lord Lacheart’s, and it was simple. The young lord was going to draw the attention of the lower ranked goblins, all twenty plus of them. Then he would stall for time.
Taliner had been quick to point out that he had no reason to be fighting the goblins. He was to distract them long enough. The whole point was to make sure the goblins did not interfere in their fight with the Hobgoblins and the Shaman.
“Really wish I had that flaming sword,” Otid muttered, pressed up against the back of the tent.
“You’re not the level 2 distracting a bunch of higher level goblins,” Taliner said.
Otid grumbled. “He’s probably a level 4 by now. At the end of this whole thing, he’ll be a level 6. I’m sure his dad will be proud.”
Taliner frowned but said nothing else.
“Come one.” Otid took a deep breath and unsheathed his sword. “Let’s get this over with.”
As the growing cacophony of goblin shrieks continued on the other side of the tent, he tore the back of the tent open with a large swing.
He charged in, sword at the ready, only to back-track quickly.
“Taliner!” he bellowed. “Duck!”
A massive Hobgoblin, twice his size, burst out from a different part of the tent, fist cocked back in a savage blow. It had dirty blue eyes and its cheek hung from its face by a thin, loose skin. The smell hit Otid a second later and he knew they were fucked.
Otid turned, hand shooting out to push Taliner as he raised his sword to meet the blow. Fist and blade met and he was sent skidding back.
To his side, Taliner was a good distance away from the, and that was all Otid needed to know. His eyes were back on the problem in front of him. They darted around in his socket, alternating between the heaving Hobgoblin in front of him and his general surrounding.
Ded said there were two. Where’s the other one?
“BEHIND YOU!”
Otid ducked into a side roll at Taliner’s warning. He stumbled during his roll as the ground shook beneath him. When he came up from his roll, it wasn’t straight to his feet, but he was quick to orient himself.
Taliner stepped up beside him with a scowl on her face as she looked at their opponents.
In front of them, standing between them and the tent, were two large Hobgoblins. Each one was a level 16. But their presence wasn’t what was intimidating. It wasn’t what made Taliner angry. No. It was what they were.
“Undead,” Taliner spat.
Otid nodded, noting how the skin hung loose from their body. He could see the empty space in one of their heads. He was certain that under the sun he would’ve been able to see the color of the thing’s skull.
Both undead Hobgoblins watched them with empty eyes as another monster stepped out of the tear Otid had made in the tent.
This goblin wore a dark purple robe and held a grotesque staff in its hand. Its eyes shone a murky green. It was not as large as the Hobgoblins, but it was as large as Taliner, with grey beards and grayish green skin.
“That’s one old motherfucker,” Taliner observed.
“Yea.” Otid was beginning to think they’d bitten off more than they could chew. “Should we report back to the guild?”
Taliner shot him a dirty glare.
Otid sighed. “I thought so.”
There was no way she was going to allow them make a retreat. Taliner had a personal beef with anything undead. Otid had tried to find out why on multiple occasions and had gotten nothing from his trials. Even Adaware, the guild master, had refused to tell him anything.
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I always said I would die facing a horde of undead because of her, he grumbled as he placed his sword at the ready.
“Let’s get this over with then.”
The Shaman, because that was the only thing the goblin with the staff could possibly be, raised its hand at them.
“Got to get going, Tal,” Otid muttered as green aura gathered to the goblin’s hand. “I don’t think we want it casting that.”
Taliner was already on the move, longsword drawn from its sheath. Her hand blurred and throwing knives crossed the distance, glinting sharp silvers under the moonlight.
The Shaman deflected the attack with a raised staff but the mana gathering to his hand winked out of existence.
Otid took his chance and charged the Hobgoblins. He and Taliner going up against two Hobgoblins wasn’t too much of a stretch. But two undead hobgoblins was. The undead did not feel pain, as such, they did not react to it. They were no more than sturdy constructs.
But Taliner and Otid had a chance, though. If the Shaman was not up to level 30, then the undead would not retain any semblance of intelligence. All they would be were puppets at the strings of a puppeteer.
Killing them was good. But killing the Shaman was better.
Otid swung his sword, was parried by the hobgoblin of his choice, and spun into a leg slash. His blade cut a gash in the hobgoblin and it brought a hand down on him. Otid, learning from his brief encounter with Lord Lacheart, released his sword to weave around the monster.
He wrapped his arms around the creature, barely encircling it, lifted it off the ground, and threw it. With his strength stats being his highest, the hobgoblin went flying.
Otid abandoned his sword in the creature’s leg. Rather than follow after it, he went for the Shaman.
Stop the puppeteer, he thought, stop the puppets.
Taliner was keeping the other Hobgoblin occupied as Otid charged the Shaman. The Shaman abandoned its magic and swung its staff at him.
It was an odd response for a magical beast of any level of intelligence. Even the magical Classes did not abandon their spells for physical combat. They created distance so they could be allowed the time to cast them. It implied that the staff was probably more than just a staff used for casting magic.
Otid avoided the swung staff, unsure of what its effects could be. He harried the Shaman, darting in and out with blows and kicks. Each attack was futile since the Shaman did its best to block every blow with its staff. And considering Otid had no idea what the staff could do on contact, he couldn’t allow it touch him even if it was in defense.
Maybe I shouldn’t have left the sword.
The Shaman raised its staff high and Otid darted in again. The last thing he needed was a cast spell. His class had no real defense against magic. [Cleaver] was a class designed for large weapons like claymores and actual cleavers.
It had high strength, little agility, and no skill that gave it any form of magical resistance. He also had no armor for that. They were expensive, and he wasn’t really rolling in money.
Otid heard a growl from behind him and side-stepped. Another thing he didn't need was to be caught in a pincer attack between an undead Hobgoblin and a Shaman.
Despite that, Otid hesitated in his action. Avoiding them would give the Shaman the time he needed to cast his spell, and one did not allow a necromancy class cast combat spells.
The Shaman staggered forward as if pushed, and a scowl split its bearded mouth. From its back protruded the hilt of one of Taliner’s throwing knives.
It turned, swinging its staff as if at an attacker.
Otid turned to give his attacker his quickest attention. The Hobgoblin’s eye remained empty even as it continued to charge at him.
Otid ducked a swing, then threw an uppercut of his own. The blow connected, sending the creature staggering back.
Otid capitalized on the chance and reached for his sword, pulling it free with all the strength he had. It came loose in one thug and black blood sprayed like syrup from the injury.
If he could get a clean blow and server the head, this would be done—
A loud explosion boomed on the other side of the camp. It shook the ground beneath their feet and ignited the air. It was enough to draw even the Shaman’s attention.
Otid frowned. What the hell is the young lord doing?
………
Aiden laughed self-deprecatingly as he staggered away from the goblin he’d just killed. He was bleeding from a cut in his side. He waved the notification of the goblin’s death away as it came up. This one had been a level 12. And he had killed it with a stab in the eye.
The fire enchantment he had used had ended up being more than just a fire enchantment. What was meant to be a small explosion of fire had spread into a literal bomb by errors that were not his.
How was I to know that one had enough flammables to burn down a small house.
Aiden panned his gaze around.
There were goblins running around, set ablaze from the explosion. He avoided barely one as it ran frantically and swung his sword at the back of its neck.
The goblin fell with an open neck and another notification popped up.
Congratulations! You have slain [Goblin Level 8].
Congratulations! You have slain [Goblin Level 2].
Congratulations! You have slain [Goblin Level 5].
Congratulations! You have slain [Goblin Level 5].
Congratulations! You have slain [Goblin Level 3].
The notifications came running down, a growing list.
Confused, Aiden looked at the point of the explosions and found goblins still charging out of the fire, running rampant. Some tossed themselves on the ground, rolling about to quench the flames. Others simply dropped to the ground after moments of struggling.
Each goblin Aiden watched fall was succeeded by a notification.
Again, he laughed. He’d been ready to spend the entire night killing goblins and doing his fair share of running.
Then some goblin just had to go and get blown up from a simple fire enchantment.
[Congratulations! You have Leveled Up!]
[Level 8-->9]
[You are now Level 9!]
Aiden ignored the rush of power that curled around his heart and filled his body. His speed of leveling was now decreasing. He was getting to the point where he would need far more kills or stronger opponents to level up.
[Achievement unlocked!]
You have dipped your hands in the blood of goblins, weighed them on a scale and considered them unworthy of life. You have become death! Destroyer of goblins. You have single-handedly slain 15+ [Goblins] in one battle before level 10.
[You have earned a title!]
[Goblin Slayer]
Effect: +30% damage increase when fighting goblins.
That was surprising.
Aiden looked at the chaos around him, counting the number of corpses. There were more than fifteen. Most of them were victims of the fire.
It did say fifteen plus, he thought.
Aiden turned to the chaos where he was certain Otid and Taliner had to be fighting. He checked his pockets, counted his enchantments. He had used up all his speed reduction enchantments so he wouldn’t be getting any help there.
He took a step in their direction and grimaced in pain. The cut in his side, given graciously to him by a goblin with a massive cleaver, was the deepest injury he had. But it was not the only one.
Cuts riddled Aiden’s body, evident through the tears in his clothes, but most of them weren't deep enough to be fatal. He’d lost one of his belts, its strap cut by one weapon or the other. Aiden had no idea if he had used up all the enchantments it had before he’d lost it.
I need to catch my breath, he thought, but didn’t rest.
Goblins burning around him didn’t mean the fight was over. He could easily just be stabbed in the back by a dying goblin. He had also used up the few potions he’d had—two, to be precise—so there was going to be no healing to be done.
It had been a question between more enchantments or more potions and he didn’t have an infinite storage. So enchantments it had been. It had just been to clear out goblins, after all.
And you ended up facing a small army.
Unfortunately—or perhaps it was fortunate for him—most of them had been low levels. 3s and 6s mostly. But their numbers had overwhelmed him from time to time and left him in a mess.
Aiden pushed himself forward, steps sluggish. He wasn’t about to go fight a Shaman or a Hobgoblin in his current position, but he was willing to render any help he could.
He got to the tent with notifications of dying goblins and critical damage filling his screen. He had used too many enchantments and his mana was low. His sword was also at its weakest, its durability reduced to almost nothingness. It was what happened when you used random enchantments on a weapon not designed for enchantments.
Aiden was sure the palace would’ve given him an enchanted sword if he could actually use it. Even the times the Sage, and then Brandis, had offered him a Knight’s sword, it hadn’t been for him to use, but to hold on to until he could.
Suddenly, a massive creature came flying at Aiden out of nowhere and he hit the ground. It whizzed over his head and tumbled along the ground.
Otid came running after it like a madman with a longsword.
The adventurer ran past Aiden as if he didn’t see him, leaping into the air. Landing on top of the creature, he plunged his sword into the thing’s chest, roaring like a berserker in battle. Aiden turned on his back.
Many adventurers were often victims of what was considered war madness. But Otid wasn’t wearing some manic smile and he didn’t seem in a frenzy. He had eyes only for his opponent. Battle madness would’ve had him looking from side to side. Seeking out a next opponent.
Congratulations! You have learned foundational skill [Awareness (Mastery 07.39%)].
“I didn’t even do anything,” Aiden muttered.
The creature slapped Otid off it, the blow sending the adventurer soaring through the air as he’d once sent himself with a leap at it.
Otid hit the ground in a heavy thud and Aiden dragged himself to the man’s side as the Hobgoblin struggled to get itself back to its feet.
Otid turned to look at Aiden when he was close enough.
“Good to see you made it,” he said to Aiden with a bloody grin and a groan. “Weren’t you supposed to just distract them?”
“Things changed,” Aiden replied, then he nodded at the Hobgoblin. “What’s happening there?”
“Fucking undead,” Otid spat, pushing himself to sit up. “Put too many holes in its leg. It doesn’t feel pain, but standing up is going to be a bitch.”
Undead. That explained the goblin that didn't feel pain.
Aiden wondered if they'd run into it and killed it without knowing.
“Aren’t there supposed to be two?” he asked, remembering Ded's report.
Otid laughed, then coughed as he pushed himself up to his feet. Aiden supported him instinctively.
“Taliner’s dealing with the other one,” Otid answered.
“And the Shaman?” Aiden knew Ded was not helping. The soldier’s only job was to track. He’d specifically given the man instructions not to interfere.
A level 19 [Scout] was not the same as a level 19 [Soldier]. Their strengths varied.
The Hobgoblin was on its feet now, pounding away at the ground like some angry gorilla. Its empty eyes focused on nothing but Otid and Aiden.
Aiden looked from it to Otid, worried. “Can you take it?”
Otid cleaned his bloody mouth with the back of his forearm. “If Taliner can hold off a Shaman and a Hobgoblin, I don’t really got a choice.”
He leveled his sword in front of him.
“Alright, big boy!" he challenged the Hobgoblin. "Let’s have at it!”
Aiden searched his pockets frantically and pulled out an enchantment. He channeled mana into it quickly then slapped it against Otid’s arm.
Otid scowled at him. “What the...”
The man’s voice trailed off as he focused on something in the air. Aiden couldn’t see it but he was sure the man was looking at the notification in front of him.
He’d just given him his last strength enchantment. +3% to strength had to count for something, right? At least Aiden hoped it did. It was definitely better than nothing.
“Had no idea enchantments could work like that,” Otid said, then charged the Hobgoblin.
Aiden let the two hulking figures run into each other. They looked almost evenly matched, and he wasn’t going to be the hamster caught between two dogs fighting. Besides, if he was going to do that, he might as well help the one that was being outnumbered.
He pushed himself towards the tent, checking his belt for the enchantments he had. After tapping at his pockets for a while, he gave up.
What does it matter?
He only had maybe one or two more enchantments left in him. Which meant that how many enchantments he had was not important. What was important was what enchantment he still had.
No, that’s for solitude.
He’d thought stealth would be needed at some point. It was funny how he hadn’t used it, and wouldn’t use it.
He tapped another pocket, hearing the slow rise of grunts and flung spells crackling through the air.
No, that’s for lesser endurance. He patted himself down some more. Where the fuck did I put it?
If Otid was calling the Hobgoblin an undead, then the Shaman had to be using necromancy and Aiden had encountered necromancers quite a good number of times in his life.
The grunts were getting very audible now, and he could see the green sparks flying all over the place as Taliner ducked and weaved and fought off a Hobgoblin the size of the one Otid was fighting.
“First rule of killing necromancers,” he muttered to himself as he got to the tent, peeking around the corner and catching sight of the Shaman. “Take their magic away.”
His hand patted one of his belt pockets, judging the shape of the object inside. Unfortunately, the time delay of this enchantment required him to be in the same space. So he had to get close enough to the Shaman to use the enchantment. It was a significant risk if his timing was off.
Now all I’ve got to do is get within six feet of a level 20 Shaman capable of turning me to moving bones in two spells. What’s the worst that can happen?
Aiden unclipped the pocket and the item fell into his palm. He gripped it tightly. One enchantment. One chance.
……….
Taliner slammed a throwing knife into the thigh of the undead Hobgoblin, then spun around it in one smooth motion. A blast of green flame struck the Hobgoblin and sent it staggering back.
She frowned as she flipped out of the way.
She’d told Otid that she could take the Shaman and the Hobgoblin alone and he’d believed her. For that, she couldn’t blame him. She was five levels above him, and three levels above the Shaman.
But necromancy magic was a touchy subject. It basically ignored level disparity in some ways. One touch from it could set her skin rotting as easily as it could the next person. And being tag-teamed by a necromancer and his puppet was a strenuous activity.
She kicked the Hobgoblin in the knee, sending it falling to its knees, then shoved her last throwing knife up its jaw and into its head. Her sword was somewhere around but she couldn’t remember where.
Behind them the Shaman lifted its staff and pointed it at them. Taliner frowned as she repositioned herself so that the Hobgoblin’s hulking body stood between her and the Shaman.
The fight was getting annoying. She had used too many skills facing only the Hobgoblin simply because the stupid thing had refused to die. It always avoided being stabbed in the heart, and taking its head off was too tasking on account of its height.
She’d pierced its heart once but the Shaman had brought it back almost immediately. So while she could’ve taken them before, now she was pretty low on mana and stamina.
As if to prove a point, her interface notified her of her stamina.
[Stamina 18%.]
Like I haven’t already figured that out.
She was already panting like she’d fought some god-like being when her opponents were just level 15 and level 20.
Adaware would have to pay extra for this specific contract quest because this had not been a part of the risks she had been informed of when he’d asked her to partner with Otid for Otid’s own good a few months ago.
She shoved her knife deeper up the Hobgoblin’s jaw, hoping to tickle its brain and maybe get a little reprieve from this madness when the Shaman gave up on caution and accuracy and just blasted away with its staff.
Taliner heard the crackle of the Shaman’s green flame as it shot through the air before exploding against the back of the Hobgoblin. Heat traveled up her arms, threatened to consume her. Even as she reacted, releasing the knife in panic, the force of the blast threw her and the creature.
The Shaman shrieked something she could only interpret as annoyance as she hit the ground.
Fight! She willed herself. Get up and fight! The job’s not done!
She was still struggling to get to her feet with no idea where any of her weapons were when she saw it. It looked like the impossible. It was pure madness if anyone asked her. But it was unmistakable.
Not far from the Shaman, the bastard of the Lacheart family was crouched low. He was like a statue, still and unmoving, sword held in hand.
She couldn’t be entirely sure, but from where she was, still struggling to get back to her feet, his sword looked like it was ready to crumble.
But the boy looked nothing like his sword. Even with his tattered clothes, cut and torn up, he looked like he had a plan.
He also looked like the problem he was having was how to execute the plan.
From where he was, Aiden wouldn’t be able to get to the Shaman in time. And if the Shaman caught sight of him, he would die.
The last thing Taliner wanted was the death of some Lord’s bastard on her conscience. So she pushed herself all the way to her feet, ignored the Hobgoblin lying helpless on the ground as the Shaman leveled his staff at her from across the distance once more, and hoped she still had enough stamina and mana for one more skill.
She sucked in a deep breath and roared like the maddened.
You have activated skill [Taunt].
The sound was less of a roar and more like a shriek. With her mastery level, she’d learnt how to direct the skill rather than just throwing it about randomly.
For a split moment, the Shaman lowered its staff in confusion. Then confusion twisted its face into anger. Taliner saw the rage in its green eyes and smirked.
What are the chances I’m going to die here?
The thought filled her mind as green fire gathered at the end of the Shaman’s staff pointed at her and she watched the young lord toss something into the space between him and the Shaman.
He fights with enchantments, she remembered as the Shaman’s green flames reached a crescendo. He better have some good enchantment in there.
Taliner had never imagined her life would end like this; dead at the hands of a monster with a lower level than her. Dying of old age had never been a delusion she’d allowed herself wallow in either, not with what she did for a living. But she’d always thought she’d die doing something glorious, maybe stopping a horde of drakes or in some great expedition.
Just something grand and memorable.
Dying to a level 20 Shaman just because she was trying to give a classless a chance to do something was not grand and memorable. It was just… unreasonable.
The last things she saw before she closed her eyes, feet too tired to move, was Aiden tossing something at the Shaman while he rushed the monster with his sword, a massive ball of green fire shooting from the Shaman’s staff, and a notification she had not seen in a long time.
You have slain [Undead Hobgoblin Level 18].
[Congratulations! You have Leveled Up!]
[Level 23 --> 24]
[You are now Level 24!]
Ha, she snorted. I never made it to 25.