The bear passed him once again and, once again, Liam was on the hunt. His 5 unspent attribute points were burning a hole in his status, but he didn't yet know where they would best be used so he hung onto them. His axe covered damage already, and any difference 5 points in Strength made would likely be nothing compared to it's improved self enhancement. Dexterity may help him be faster, but with his weapon effectively charging up between attacks, he didn't need to hit more and his exploits already proved that he was nimble enough to dodge anything the undead threw at him. The real debate was between Vitality and Endurance, but each fight he had been in had taxed a different one of those attributes. Assigning the points to one might get him killed if he needed the other, so waiting and using them as needed seemed like the plan. It was inefficient as he wouldn't benefit from them whilst they were sitting in his status waiting to be assigned, but that was a price he was willing to pay until he got more information.
He ventured further into the catacombs, eyes and ears alert for any threats. It wasn't long before he heard the lich's next attempt at catching him out and killing him. The familiar clanking of steel against stone, only it was louder this time and constant. The chatter of a couple skeletal jaws cracked in the background and he got a good idea of what he was up against. He moved a few corridors forwards and peeked around a corner, and his suspicions were confirmed. There, advancing in a disjointed lockstep, was a shield wall of [Skeletal Guards] backed by 2 [Skeletal Mages].
The odds were stacked against him once again, so he needed to come up with a trick or plan to win just like he had every other time. He could ambush the mages again, but then he would be stuck behind a wall of hearthsteel and bloodthirsty undead with no knowing what could come from the other side and an animal behemoth on its way. He retreated slowly as he thought, creating and discarding plans as he went. Finally, he settled on one and decided to go with it after troubleshooting it as best he could.
He waited, and when the procession rounded on him, he charged. He hit the wall as the mages turned the corner, shattering the formation with a fully charged blow. He focused the brunt of it on the guard in the centre, sending it flying backwards and into one of the mages where they collided and landed tangled in a mess of limbs. The other mage cared not for the fate of its brethren and sent a powerful gout of flame towards him. He side stepped but left his axe in its path. His shield ended up depleted again, and his hand ended up burnt, but the weapon's storage was full once again and he brought it down on another guard. He split this ones helmet in two, continuing onto it's skull which it parted with ease. The blade hit the orb of blue light held in its head and his own flames extinguished it completely.
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A second burst of fire aimed for his feet, but his axe swept down low to meet it as he stepped aside, this time bringing it up and entering a guard's skull through the jaw. He killed this one too, but it took him a few moments to dislodge it, time that cost him dearly. Swords opened up wounds on his sides and fire blossomed to burn him and cauterize them. Luckily, he was growing used to these kinds of wounds and managed to shrug off the pain with adrenaline and force of will. He rounded on his attackers and, one by one, began to dismantle them. No more could he slay them instantly in one blow, not if he wished to avoid further injury, but a multitude would do the job.
He danced around the paths of flame attacks sent towards him, and swayed out the way of sword strikes and shield bashes. As long as he held his axe in hand he seemed to know the perfect place to be to both avoid and deliver harm. It would have scared him how quickly he was learning violence if he did not enjoy the process so much, a process which he would very much like to replicate with a creative art in the future. For now though, his existence was steel and bone, carving into each to get at the ball of magic inside.
Time passed and the enemies' numbers dwindled whilst Liam's actions only became more confident and bold. The battle became almost like a bull fight, if the destructive element of fire was the bull and his axe was a cape. It would've been beautiful to watch had he not been caked in sulfur and his own blood. The smile on his face was terrifying, and it was a shame that the undead could not truly appreciate it. It did not take too long until he was standing over the bones and feeding them to his axe.
He felt the weapon grow stronger, both it's stats and passives strengthening, and he was satisfied even if slaying so many undead above his level hadn't given him enough to reach Level 10. He made to go back to his hiding place but froze when he turned around.
Standing there at the end of the passageway was the rotting bear, and its dead eyes were focused directly on him.