Author's Note:
Splitting the chapter into two posting as It is a little too darn long.
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Winter found that the mountain’s name was as fitting as its appearance. It was bleak, cast against the perpetual steel gray sky. The trees were green, but looked a little faded, instead of the usual lush green he was familiar with. The trees were clustered densely, such that no sunlight could penetrate the interlocking natural canopy. Not that it would help much, since the sky was overcast, with barely any rays of sun peeking behind the clouds.
He parted company with Zaya after ensuring she had gotten into a city safely. Winter felt that their pace of travel was too slow. They were hindered since they appeared to be from different timezones, though there was only four hours of difference. She was also a merchant, who needed to stop in every town she visited to trade. They stopped almost as many days as they travelled. She tried to be good company, but Winter was not interested in any conversation. He spent his hours brooding inside his own head, not something he was fond of, yet had happened before.
So he thought it was best that they part company for good. He kept going North. After three days of continuous pestering in his PM, Zaya finally gave up contacting Winter. While they were travelling together, she forcefully added Winter into her friends’ list. At that time, Winter thought it was better to let her to do it,than spend unnecessary time arguing (Winter thought she was relentless in her asking, like the annoying marketers he hated). Now, he was almost ready to delete her from his contacts, if barely. He was finally annoyed enough to reply, proclaiming all debt to be settled. That shut her up.
Six days without hearing anything from her, Winter was pretty sure she had received the point he was bringing across. Winter could not believe himself that he somehow managed to keep it together in the two weeks of her incessant talking (It was the stopping that actually got to him).
Zaya told him about this mountain, among the largest monster zones in the game. Most players avoid this place, as it was teeming with a lot of monsters and it was a very large zone. Players who got lost sometimes had to spend weeks to find an exit.
Most players skirted the mountain, adding a good four months to their travel time in exchange for security. A lot of adventuring towns were at the base of the mountain, catering to players that wanted to enter the mountain itself. Winter, too, did pass such a town the previous day He mainly stocked up on as many healing items as possible, without weighing him down. He expected no problem regarding food. He also bought a new staff. Using Sun’areth felt a little extravagant for him. Its durability had decreased by two points from the beating he administered to Campbell. His sword, surprisingly, could be equipped at the same time as the staff, but since it encumbered him, he chose the staff.
Marblewood Staff (Durability 60/60)
An example of excellent mage weaponry, this staff is made from Marblewood. It is a tree with a natural capacity for channelling magic. Though not the best weapon for a mage, due to its heavy weight, it allows the caster to channel greater magical power than usual.
Restriction:
Mage type profession
STR 60
INT 100
Wis 80
Magic Attack: 27-35
INT+5
WIS+5
Additional Bonus:
10% extra Magic damage
He purchased the staff right before he parted with Zaya. The name of the town? Winter did not remember. Zaya might have mentioned it, maybe not. They had rolled into a bustling town market. That was all he remembered. He was told to not wander too far from her while she was conducting business. He took the time to sell his useless crap. It incensed Winter’s temporary traveling partner as he did not bother to bargain. When he decided to buy a staff that caught his eye, Zaya decided to handle the negotiation.
The weapon also packed pretty mean damage for a piece of wood. 18-22 attack damage (26G purchase price - originally 40G. Haggling courtesy from Zaya). Winter never learned staff fighting skills. Best he could do was to get himself familiar with swinging it. He thought he was doing pretty well since he understood the mechanics of sword combat. No fancy twirling for him, though, as much as he wanted to. His previous experience with a sword made him wary to try such a stunt, and he was not in the mood.
Doing a final check, he almost forgot to equip the +100 mana and 10% mana regeneration ring from the Forest of Lasem quest. He did not bother trying to equip the bracer anymore. It could not be done. He had tried three times and that should be more than enough. Maybe this was what it should be. He kept thinking that the bracer’s curse had made him dependent on it.
You entered Mountain of Sorrow
Winter expected to encounter most of the types of monsters from the information book he had bought back in town. Undead, were-monsters, spirit types, humanoids, too. Oh Normal beasts exist but in the minority.
The guide was very useful for its price of five gold. It contained detailed information on the strengths, weaknesses, drops, and finally a map, and the area where you would be likely to encounter the different monsters. From his current entrance point, the first type Winter encountered would be Werewolves. The guide said they were strong, fast, and ran in packs of a minimum of four and had been known to go up to twenty. Weak against fire and silver weapons. Drops from them, ironically, were silver ores in random quantity between two and seven (medium size), and items occasionally (silver accessories and small pieces of armors).
The map also showed his chosen path to a pass at the center of the mountain. He had to climb up halfway up the mountaintop to get to it, however. It would cut the journey in half, according to the book. The small foreword at the beginning did not quite faze him. It said that the author was not responsible for any deaths of solo attempts, as it would be near impossible to do it even if you were level 200.
Winter thought he wanted to do it, since he felt suicidal after the affair with Adria was concluded. He, of course, never wanted to die for real. But he had to vent on something. His broken TV set was already pulverized to small bits instead of cracked. He had abused it with an iron pipe this time. It was a quaint logic, mentally hurting due to Royal Road and venting back inside it.
Shaking his head, Winter paid close attention to his surroundings. He had encountered nothing yet, a quarter of an hour in. The occasional rustling of leaves and branches, and creaks of the trees, did not faze him, though he took up a defensive posture every time.
*Howl*
Looking left and right, cocking his ear in his attempt to catch the source of the animal voice. It was pretty close. Winter did not look down. A jutting tree root tripped him. Landing in a heap, he cussed a bit before getting up. He had not gotten up fully before something struck him. His body was hurled, and finally stopped on a trunk. Scrambling to get up, he barely got Reflex activated, followed by Stone Coffin up, before a large clawed hand got to his head. He had learned to cast the spell with a single thought. He was pleased to be able to do it under pressure.
Rolling sideways and nearly letting go of his staff, Winter saw that there were six werewolves. The single blow he suffered took about a third of his health!
“Fireball!”
A flaring ball of fire ripped through the gloom. He probably would have missed, if the monsters were not blinded temporarily. Backing up, Winter raised another Stone Coffin to cover his empty left side. A mild thump and shudder returned his investment.
Winter quickly assessed his situation. He could not directly attack any of the monsters, since it appeared they were of equal speed to him with Reflex, or even slightly faster. His eyes could barely follow their movements!
Putting his back to one of the large trunks, Winter raised another barrier to his right, repelling another attack. Suddenly, he got it. Using the macro, he raised barrier after barrier. He wondered if this would work. It should, or else he was toast. Not something he was against, yet not something he looked forward to. The ten raised Stone Coffins, with the tree at his back, acted like a dead end alley. It was barely wide enough to accommodate one of the furry, yellow-eyed, muscular werewolves.
“Earth Spike!” Shouted Winter, though it was unnecessary.
He could already perform most of his spells without any need for Cadence.
A meter long jagged grey stone spike rose suddenly and about to impale the first werewolf that ran into the blind alley that he created, but was neatly dodged with a forward junp (the guide mentioned that the first one to jump at you would be the strongest, the alpha so to speak).
“Heavenly Wind, Gust!”
This was one spell he was not very familiar with, thus he chose to be careful. The effect was as he intended. It blew down the jumping werewolf right into the spike, impaling its stomach. The werewolf also effectively worked as a temporary barrier, with its flailing arms. He managed to stop the rest of the pack dead in their track, but Winter was not safe yet. He had to act fast, before all of them figured some other way to get at him or the spell to degrade and vanish on its own.
Without any preamble, Winter stepped forward. He put as much speed into the downswing as he could. The heavy wood crunched against the impaled werewolf’s skull, stunning it for a few seconds. Winter quickly chanted Fire Strike at near zero distance. The effect was rather gory. A flare of blinding red haze of blood and fire. He tried not to look too closely at how much was left of the head. The body had not quite registered that it was dead yet, still twitching though it turned grey. Creepy.
He saw a half-charred head for a split second, before he looked back up and unbalanced a blinded werewolf with a thrust to the chest, accompanied by a further retort of Fireball as Fire Strike was still on Cooldown.
Critical Strike!
You dealt critical damage! HP-180
The narrow alley turned into a disadvantage when Winter realised he could not utilise his staff much. It was too long, limiting the attack patterns he could perform. He immediately drew his sword, dumping the stuff behind him in careless manner, and jumped forward.
Sword fighting was closer to his niche, thought Winter. He was done with the pack of six werewolves. After the initial surprise, Winter had an easier time dealing with the rest of the pack. The guide paid for itself.
Werewolves were communal monsters. There was usually a leader, an alpha who led the attack. The guide stated that if you killed the alpha, the monsters would be disorganised. With every kill you made against the pack, they got weaker and less organised. Winter did not even need another stone corridor after he killed the second werewolf. The rest hesitated to attack him yet it seemed as if their programming disallowed them to turn tail and run, allowing him to lob spell after spell from a safe distance while they dodged frantically and found safest way to attack him, which was none when he kept putting his back against the tree..
’Maybe I should not be so arrogant.’
The act of self-bandaging for Winter had become so monotone that it was an automated function for him. While his hands worked, Winter thought he had come quite close to dying. The fifth one had unexpectedly charged at him straight. He made the mistake to not go with Fire Strike or Gust, choosing the manly way, fighting the monster toe to toe. He was mauled pretty badly, before Reflex kicked in and he got a clear stab to its heart, the weak point aside from decapitation, that was easier but not within his capability for now. He ended up with less than five percent HP in his first encounter with the monster inside the very large dungeon. A great start?
Having finished bandaging the injured body parts, Winter cast Clear Mind for improved mana regeneration. WInter was not expecting to be spotted first by the mobs he should be hunting. He proceeded to eat all four variations of the Rainbow Fish dish. Sella’s lunchbox held much more food than it should, for the small size. Fifty of each dish, making it two hundred in total.
Looting medium-sized silver nuggets and the rest of the inconsequential money, Winter distributed his first level up points in a while to INT Stat as he had not added them in a while. If nothing else, the monsters here gave decent EXP. The six he killed had swallowed up the fifteen percent to the next level, and an extra two percent.
While waiting for his mana to fully regenerate, Winter thought of his own predicament. He could turn back, contact Zaya, and proceed through the safe path. It was not too late for him to do so.
Somehow, the near death experience, though not so real, was a wake up call for Winter. He needed to feel sorry for himself, beat himself up, and move on.
’It is a game. You cannot get hurt for real.’
So Winter said to himself. A tiny conscience that questioned whether Adria’s case was not hurtful was stomped ruthlessly. He was there to have fun. He was through being a very nice person. It was unbecoming of him.
Deciding that he should explore things he could not do when he was cursed, Winter chose to find a party for himself. The last town looked good for it.
xXx
“This is bullshit.”
Winter walked out of town to the mountain again. He had wasted the trip back and forth for nothing. He tried searching for suitable armor for upgrades while he was in town, but found none to his liking. The design of flowing mage robes, he came to dislike, as it was impractical for him that moved aplenty. He was going to solo some more.
He had no idea that mages were such jealous creatures. Or that any normal player could be so calculating. Well, he understood the latter. He had already been the victim of calculating players when he was cursed. The mage jealousy was something new.
A lot of the parties that were interested in him, thought he was a swordsman. When Winter told them he was a mage, the magicians in the party questioned the need of having him around. When told that he was fine with using swords, the mages began pointing out that he was half-assed, which was true, but not something he wanted to think too much. He preferred to think of himself as well-balanced. The major issue, even with parties seeking mages, was his spells being especially low in level. After five rejections, he was through.
Back to solo.
xXx
Zaya had just concluded another deal. She was usually pleased with herself after every transaction, as she always pushed for the maximum. This time, she did not feel overly satisfied. NPC haggling was a standard approach to her now. She wanted something more. A trade with another player. They would not be skill dependent, but goods dependent. She still had the four cases of Golden Apple Wine. Upon reaching a suitable city, she could sell it at a hefty profit.
No. The cause of her mood swing was the missing person she was supposed to stick around with. Winter.
She was furious when she found out that he had ditched her. She never thought that the mature man would be so ungrateful. Here she was offering her best to satisfy her debt, and he slapped it down to nothing. She was through with the magician.
’He can choke on that macho pride.’
She was wondering, too, however, what was the story of the mage. To her, Winter felt like a puzzle, a mystery. He was entranced by her seduction, then dumped her the next hour. It made her lose confidence in herself for a while. The whole journey, she spent it filling in Winter on Arcanum as much as she could. The route, the dangers, the sights. She had never been to the city, but had made journey to the Capitol, the center of the Central continent, three times. It was the golden city, literally. Everything a player wished to seek could be found there.
’Everything but mild competition, that is.’
It was true. Because everything could be found there, the goods in that region was especially cheap. Only very rare or unique items would rate premium price. This time, Zaya thought she had the goods.
Sighing, Zaya hoped this annoying twinge of guilt would go away. She had dressed much more conservatively, since Winter was gone. No more seduction efforts for her, only professionalism. It was hard, but she wanted to know if she could do it.
xXx
Winter spent two weeks hunting werewolves. He was used to handling them now. The key was to identify the alpha and rush at it as fast as he could. After several bumbling attempts, he managed to do it proficiently. After twenty, he refined it to almost perfection.
He still could not see the attacks from the beasts clearly. Best he could see was a brief outline. Still, he had spent enough time around the monster to recognise attack patterns based from what he could barely see and some pure guesswork at times. The culmination of all his efforts were receiving less than one hit in twenty thrown at the moment. Considering how much blows were thrown in the air by the mobs, Winter wanted much more proficiency but felt that he still lacked a key element that allowed him to do it.
He was much better at hunting werewolves now, able to take on around ten to twelve at one go safely. Far cry from his first attempt.
It was not all smooth sailing for him, for he had died once, from a named mob that overmatched him. Lobo the Wolf King. It was a beautiful creature. Silver white fur that shone whenever he passed. Also ridiculously fast and strong. Winter probably should have seen it coming, as it was the first very different breed of werewolves he saw. The more common ones were grey-furred.
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
He could have chosen to run, too, but thought he knew better. The option when Winter failed to rush and kill the alpha, was to use the defensive corridor tactic until he could kill the alpha. Lobo was different. He stayed behind while directing ten werewolves in coordination. Winter lasted long enough to kill the first one, and injure the second one, which did not deter them at all. He truly underestimated the named mob as he had killed a record of fourteen safely.
Wisely, Winter chose to avoid the small territory where Lobo roamed, and moved on to another section of the mountain, filled with Orcs. He promised to be back to settle the score, though.
The guide said that the Orcs of the mountain averaged from 120 to 145 in level. They were strong, though not very fast. The main feature of their problem was their ferociousness. Combined with them also being social, and expected to come in a decent number of between eight, and up to twenty, at times, Winter could expect to be dead if he ever got himself cornered. He had already encountered groups of ten and twelves in his roaming. He was forced to hide behind bushes, the trees being unclimbable due to their slippery surfaces. They grew straight and tall, like pines, but were unlike them as it has weird sections like bamboo.. He needed to be able to leap ten meters vertically to get to the first branch.
After searching for a little bit, Winter finally found the smallest number of orcs. A number he thought he needed to start with. Six green-skinned orcs, complete with jutting canines from their lower jaw, grunted while passing, as they were moving around the a large tree. The orcs stood out pretty starkly against the rocky surface of the earth, which encompassed their territory. Corded muscles, wrapping their hunched postures, the orcs were saying something unintelligible to Winter’s ear. They carried crude wooden clubs, very large ones, like all the orcs he had encountered so far. They wore no armor, and were bare-chested. Only a wrapped leather kilt, and a wide belt wound around their torso, was proof that they had any culture. No footwear, too. Their feet ended in stubby thumbs, with short talons that looked pretty sharp.
The recommended fighting tactic was to find a clear area to utilise your speed. In fact, it was recommended by the guide to attack alternately from two sides, confusing them. Winter was forced to modify his tactic, since he was alone. So he chose a clear line of sight and began chanting,
“Break apart, Fire Strike.”
His spell accuracy had always been pretty good. At a twenty meter distance he could not miss. Winter clocked the orc on the head neatly.
Caught enemy unaware! 200% extra damage!
Critical Strike!
You inflicted 570 damage!
A loud roar was the reply. He could not believe it failed to stun. All of them.
Before the four fireballs connected to the first orc, Winter had prepared to cycle through his spells. He fired Earth Spike, Fireball, and ended it with another blast of Fire Strike, before dodging between trees to find another position. Needless to say he splattered the first orc that he targeted to grey dusty pixels.
The orcs had recovered from the surprise attack and began hounding Winter. They had good night vision, but not as good as werewolves, which was why fire spells did not blind them that badly. Their dumbness was proven when Winter raised a Stone coffin and the whole group ran straight at it. The collision was strong enough to shatter the solid wall, something he never expected, though they stunned themselves in the progress and accrued some damage. It allowed Winter to land a few more spells, inflicting more damage. This fight, Winter chose not to engage too closely. The long clubs they held looked pretty deadly, outranging his sword by half a meter, easily.
By repeating the process of erecting a defensive wall when the orcs were close and letting them slam against it, Winter slowly reduced the mobs, until finally,there was only one. This, he chose to fight in close range, to gauge its ability.
First fact find. He did not have enough strength for head-to-head battle. His frontal attacks were batted away easily. His defense, too, crumbled when the club smashed against it. The swing was so strong that even when he blocked it clean, he was pounded to the ground or smashed against the tree. He lost over half his health that way, the first few clashes of testing. The first one was the worst. He got pounded from standing position, hitting the earth and bounced back from the impact. He instinctively triggered Reflex, ending up appreciating his bouncing time longer. Winter idly thought the circular expanding dust from his final landing was especially cool effect.
Winter had gotten all he needed, anyway. His counterattacks were swift, a lot swifter than the blocking clubs. The damage was low since he did not emphasise on strength of individual slashes, but the quantity of the swings that got through the defense. The orcs had no particular weaknesses in their physique. Decapitation was a guarantee to kill any monster, of course. What Winter experimented was whether he could decrease the monster’s mobility and attack speed, or power.
His experiments paid dividends.
The realism of the game allows decreased strength or mobility when you injure the necessary limbs. In this case, Winter could handle the blows head on when he scored a decent amount of damage on the Orc’s hands and arms.
He finished his experiment by impaling one foot with Earth Spike, getting into a good distance, and spending his mana sending waves of magics, while continuously knocking the monster away with Gust.
’This might be a little bad...’
Winter’s fun parade might be ending pretty soon. He had leveled up pretty well now, hitting 121 after another two weeks of effort. He was somehow sandwiched between two roving patrols of orcs. One of sixteen, another of fourteen. They were moving in his direction, too. Any way he moved, he was bound to encounter one, with a guarantee of the other side spotting him and converging.
Zaya sent Winter her position with directions, whenever she moved to another town. Winter, in a much more amenable mood now, replied with thanks, and promised to see her if he was ever around. No idea when, no promises. Their talks now were rather cordial. She was surprised when Winter told her that he was sticking to solo inside the Mountain of Sorrow. She had probably wanted to say that Winter was suicidal, but had enough sense to hold her tongue.
‘I am a little busy now. Talk to you another time.’
Winter put his last whisper to Zaya. He was wondering how he would get away from this one.
To one side was a dense forest, a good chance of running away. The other side was a broken flat hill that was the center of the orcs’ territory. Winter needed to make a decision soon, as with each passing second, the two groups were getting closer.
’Sink or swim now. Dumb idea, here I come.’
Winter chose the relatively flat hill. It was wide open space all the way. He could outrun the patrols, of course, but there was no guarantee he would not be cornered eventually when he moved deeper into their territory. He had to face them now.
Moving in a running crouch, Winter managed to get near the edge of the trees before he was spotted.
“Ascnakew!”
No idea what the orc said, Winter chose not to turn back. He was spotted. A stampede of feet and roaring followed him. Ignoring it, Winter chose a relatively flat spot and began raising five Stone Coffins around him. The sixth one would effectively seal him in a diamond formation. It was an inadequate barrier against the might of the orcs, but anything was better than nothing.
Gauging the distance, Winter began the cadence for Vermillion.
“Crimson Lord of Destruction, I beseech a rain of fire. Vermillion!”
A rain of fire began falling from the sky. This was the first chance Winter had to cast the AOE spell. Under the canopies, there was no space to form the magic circle, which disallowed Winter to cast one. Dumb as they were, the orcs rushed forward through the destructive rain. Of course, none died immediately. It was too optimistic for Winter to expect deaths from a quick dousing. Canceling the spell quickly, Winter erected the last wall and began anew the rain of fire. This time, much closer.
Winter was barely at the edge of the AOE. Roars of anger accompanied with thudding against his barrier made him nervous. Winter could not see above the wall he erected. It was taller than him. He occasionally saw flashes of clubs and cracks began appearing in each defensive wall.
Judging that it would not last longer, Winter chose to initiate his escape plan. It was inspired by Adria and his continuous use of Stone Coffin to launch his enemies. He always thought he could launch himself up, but never had the chance to try it. Now, he better could do it, or he would be dead.
Canceling the spell, Winter quickly chose the direction that was the least noisy, which of course, was where he cast the Vermillion spell, and launched himself up with the help of his legs.
“Whoa!”
Winter remembered that he had shoved an absurd plan to Daniel for the siege, using catapults. He wondered if this was how it felt to be in the basket. While up in the air, he had the time to activate Reflex and rain more spells while clearing the air. All the orcs were still busy demolishing the walls. So gripped were they in their frenzy, that they did not notice Winter, who was already landing in a couple rolls, after clearing over fifteen meters of distance, and had begun to erect the same defensive measure.
He managed to get all of them after two more repetitions. It also depleted his mana enough for him to have to resort to a physical fight. But the orcs were so mangled that they were sluggish anyway, so no big deal.
From then on, Winter was a little more careful with his encounters, but did not shy away from the fight. He used this very same tactic when he hit the central territory of the orcs. One time, he was probably fighting against over forty orcs. He wondered how a solo warrior would survive this.
Unknown to Winter, the players knew rumors of a particular female warrior that once cut through the mountain in a two weeks record time alone, leaving the mobs completely decimated. Maybe he would encounter her later in the future?
And with this hurdle overcome, he spent two weeks ranging the territory of the orcs, not bothering to loot crude weapons and drops, keeping mainly silvers and gems that were easier to carry and worth more. The last spot he had to pass by was the Undead territory, a forbidding landscape of dark, scorched earth, that the led to the empty pass devoid of any life.
It was a learning experience for Winter. It was the first time he came head-to-head against a mage.
The Skeleton Mages threw mainly curses and shadow element spells. Some surprisingly do ice spells too. He had no problem dodging the spells. The curses, though, had a pretty wide spread. It lowered his agility and strength, not something he particularly needed badly, as long as he could keep churning blast after blast of spells in rotation against Skeleton Soldiers, that accompanied the Skeleton Mages. Usually for every one mage, there were two soldiers. He spent his time herding the melee around. They were dumber than the orcs in a way, trying to continuously reach him by bumping onto the Stone Coffin spell, rearing back, and then trying to walk through it again.
One time, he got a little overconfident, and a little fed up, hiding behind the stone barrier and firing cover spells from side. Somehow, there was one group of mindless skeleton soldiers that got smart enough and loped off his right hand. He backed up far enough to be annoyed, and kept dumping his whole mana to the skeletons.
The undead were probably the richest, dropping random equipment, sometimes. He managed to replace some of his gear this way, though the gear were very low on the durability side, despite the high defense and status bonus.
“Huummannnn.... you are noottt welcomed here....”
Winter was a little surprised. The fully-armored skeleton, with a two-handed sword, minus a helmet, was the <
’I think I will go at it tomorrow. I can use a good nap.’
Winter had spent two days in-game, going deeper and deeper into the mountain. He almost could see the mouth of the pass. He was also tired, and did not feel like fighting anymore mobs today. The next rest point was a little distance behind the sentinel. At least according to the map. So if he could bypass it, he would just do it and come back tomorrow to whack it on its head.
“I only wish to pass. No battle is needed.”
Replied Winter confidently.
*Silence*
The Skeletal hands that rested on the pommel of the two-handed sword pointing down at the earth twitched. The eyeless gaze and showing teeth were aimed at him. A small dark flame in each socket looked back at Winter.
*Silence*
Probably ten seconds had passed. Winter wondered whether the skeleton was thinking.
“Die...”
“Oi! That’s it? Die? What about more talk!”
Winter was not expecting that reply. The sudden rush of attacks nearly parted his head. He had so much practice with Reflex, that he had triggered it subconsciously to dodge the rapid slash. The fight was on.
’This guy... he is strong!’
Gritting his teeth, Winter tried to maneuver to a better position. He was outclassed in swordsmanship, strength, and level. He realised it after he barely dodged a direct stab to his stomach. It grazed his side, anyway, robbing him of six percent HP. A backswing grazed his head. Since he lost significant health of 15%, he was guessing the bloody skeleton had scalped his head.
“Dammit.... which part about being a Knight was that supposed to be.”
Winter was complaining about the sneak attack without warning. He finally found his chance when they locked blades.
“Rise up! Stone Coffin!”
He was attempting to launch up the skeleton. But it was fast enough to untangle itself and jump back. Fine with Winter, too. Not wasting his chance, he began to make more distance, that his undead enemy tried to regain.
’Oh no, you don’t’.
“Heavenly Wind, Gust!”
This was his most reliable spell for close range combat. The knockback effect worked like a charm when the blade was nearly upon him. Knocked completely down, Winter began to pepper it with Fire Strike, Fireball, then rotating between the two.
Aside from Holy element, undeads were weak against fire.
*Slice*
“Erk.”
Winter was careless. He managed to stun the skeleton knight with the first blow of Fire Strike. He was not sure whether he took too long, or it recovered too quickly. Either way, this did not look good.
You took critical damage! HP-800
You receive Bleed effect! Contain it or die!
’The hell is Bleed effect! I don’t have time for this!’
While dodging more slashes, his health was dropping slowly.
Bleed Effect!
Movement Speed -30%!
Winter was barely fast enough to parry the blows that kept raining onto him. He did not like it when he found out what the bleed effect did. He began losing his health, pretty darn quickly too. He also felt his avatar harder and harder to move.
His stamina was close to depletion. His health point just dropped to under 25%. Winter was getting a little desperate.
Slashing in a rhythm then suddenly landing an out of sequence blow, Winter engineered a strong hack that the mob had to block directly or else Winter would make a little distance to work his magic.
’Got him!’
They crossed blades once more, with Winter losing in the half second it took him to soundlessly use the Biscuit System to summon a Stone Coffin, that this time successfully launching the Skeleton Knight bodily into the air.
“Mana Bolt! Fire Ball! Break Apart! Fire Strike! Gust! Fireball!”
Not letting up while it was in the air, Winter tried to keep it airborne longer with his wind spell, which was a partial success. Somehow, the damn cheat used the impact from Winter’s attacks to orient itself to face him (Winter filed the move away, just in case he somehow had the opportunity to pull the same manoeuvre in the future). It came down at him with a slash, aimed at cleaving his skull!
Panicked, Winter reverted back to trusted old Cadence. The word ‘Reflex’ was out of his mouth and he buried his sword on the skull of the falling knight. It crashed down at him with the two handed sword thunking just inches missing his skull. As it was, he lost his right ear. Yuck.
“Ha... Ha.... Damn cheat.....”
He began laughing. This was the closest he that had almost died in the mountain. Well, he died once against Lobo. But that was not a one-on-one fight. This was a very satisfying duel for Winter. A match of skill and guile. He suddenly looked forward to more of this.
’Heh... somehow, it was appropriate.’
The skeleton dropped no loot at all. But Winter had received a good fight from his most worthy opponent. Somehow he prized that more than the possible drops. With two percent left and ticking down from his bleeding, Winter bandaged himself to raise his health. It was not stopping. Nine minutes or so until it stopped. Until then, Winter had to keep bandaging it.
Walking to the safe zone, Winter kept bandaging himself, then logged out when his health had recovered fully.