Halfway in, they all caught up. Every last one of them—except for one poor sap named Colt. He flew too close to the sun, and now he’s crash-landed back to earth, hard. So hard, in fact, that he can’t even twitch a muscle. He’s slumped in a corner, gasping and squirming while the others celebrate.

“What the fuck did I do to deserve this?” I mutter, wincing as a sharp pain tears through my chest and spreads like wildfire through the rest of my body. Another wave of agony hits, making me cough up blood, and then comes the shaking—violent, uncontrollable. Just when it stops, I know it’s only the calm before the storm.

The voice in my head doesn’t hold back. “Because you got stupid. Blew through your mana way too fast, and this is the price you pay.”

Fuck! Jagon did warn me about burning through my mana too quickly, said the backlash was just waiting to pounce. But like the dumbass I am, I didn’t listen. I was too caught up in the heat of battle, too busy slicing through goblins and feeling like a god compared to everyone else. Yeah, I deserve this. But damn, nobody mentioned the pain would be this bad. It’s unbearable.

“Jagon!” I scream, forcing out the words with every ounce of strength I have left. “Help me!”

Everyone turns to look at me, and the contempt in their eyes is unmistakable. It’s like they’re all silently saying, “You had it coming, asshole. Now enjoy it.” They grin and laugh, their voices cutting through me more than the pain ever could. I groan, trying to swallow my pride, but it’s a bitter pill.

Finally, Jagon steps into view, and the laughter dies down. The blonde-haired man kneels in front of me, shaking his head like I’m some kind of lost cause.

“Told you, didn’t I?” he says, his tone dripping with pity.

“Yeah… and I didn’t listen,” I manage to whisper between coughs. “I’m… sorry… Now, fix me… please!”

“You’re not broken for me to fix. You’re just… exhausted,” Jagon replies, reaching for the satchel by my side. He rummages through it and pulls out a blue potion. “Drink this, then meditate for a while to recharge. You’ll be back on your feet in no time.”

I try to raise my hand, but it drops like a stone, sending a fresh wave of pain shooting through my body. Jagon notices, sighs, then uncorks the vial and helps me drink it. As the mana potion makes its way down my throat, a cool sensation spreads, washing away the pain and coughs in one go. The tightness in my chest eases, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I can breathe properly and move my limbs.

I let my body relax and release a long breath of relief, mentally kicking myself to be more careful with my mana next time. Jagon pats me on the shoulder before joining the others, leaving me to shift into a lotus position and focus on meditating. He says it helps restore mana quickly. Let’s see how quick.

I close my eyes, letting the darkness take over, and I’m back in the void that is my core. Now, it looks like a glass ball with barely any mana scraping the bottom. I sit tight and start drawing mana from the outside world, just as Jagon instructed.

The world around me is mana-rich. I look through the darkness, and spot many glowing threads floating around in the wild. I latch onto one. Mana races through my body, filling the core, and I feel my strength returning, every cell firing up. I could take on a whole horde of goblins again and show those players I’m no laughingstock. I’m still miles ahead of them. But first, I need to wait for the core to fill up. The process is quick—blink, and it’s already at 10%. But then, my world shakes.

My eyes snap open, and it’s Jagon. “Half an hour,” he says, slightly annoyed. “Can’t afford more time. Come on, we’re moving.”

The downside of meditation: time flows differently in the void. You feel great, but you can lose track of the world around you.

I nod, getting to my feet with a grunt. A few stretches, and I’m ready, trailing behind him as we head deeper into the dungeon, on the hunt for another camp. As we move, I notice the absorption slowing down. I can still feel it, but it’s barely a trickle. And once I’m in battle, it’ll stop dead in its tracks.

Would be nice if there were a way to speed this up, maybe even keep it going during a fight so I’d never run out of mana. But hey, wishful thinking, take a hike.

A few more steps, and the ground beneath us doesn’t just shake—it practically erupts. The mana stones lighting our way crash down, plunging us into darkness. Jagged rocks rain from above, slicing into my back and arm. We stumble, crashing into one another, and then the roars hit—goblins, echoing from all sides. We’re surrounded. And blind.

“Use mana. Prepare!” Rox’s voice cuts through the chaos, and I force the Crystal Eye to activate again. A sharp pang in my chest reminds me of how low my mana is, but what choice do I have?

The darkness lifts just as the wall to our left explodes inward. In steps a massive creature: [Guard Orc lvl - 23], and behind him, more than a hundred goblins swarm out, charging at us in a wave of screeches and swinging weapons.

“Distract the goblins. The guard is mine,” Rox barks out orders and springs into action, the others following suit. But I stand there, staring at the orc. It’s glowing orange, and every vital point—eyes, armpits, asshole, knee joints, ankles—is lit up in a fiery red.

I can kill that thing, right? Of course, I can! Sounds very brazen? There’s a good reason.

I clear out an entire goblin camp by myself, nearly die in the process, and what do I get? A measly one percent progress on my dungeon clearance. Rox doesn’t even blink at that because he knows it’s not worth his time. He’s smart enough to focus on the big bosses where the real rewards are.

And you know what? I’m done wasting my energy just to be the butt of the joke. It’s time to set my sights on something that’ll earn me both respect and some real rewards.

Rox, greatsword in hand, launches himself at the orc, while I dig out a vial of mana potion. Down the hatch it goes, just as the creature lets out a deafening roar and returns the favor. A quick peek at my mana gauge—15%. Not great, but not terrible either.

Steel on steel rings out, drowning everything else. Turns out, the orc knows its way around a blade, despite having zero intelligence. Instincts? Maybe. But Rox is faster, more precise. He’s pushing the orc back, and I can see it—the moment when Rox will create an opening just for me.

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Rox ducks just in time, the orc’s machete whizzing over his head and slicing into the cave wall, where it gets stuck. The creature struggles to free it, and Rox uses that opportunity to deliver a solid punch to its gut that sends the orc soaring across the cave, slamming into the opposite wall. That’s it.

“I might be the dumbest person alive for getting in Rox’s way, but I’ll be damned if I let anyone look down on me!” With that, I charge at the orc, just as it’s about to get back on its feet.

I push through the horde, cutting down goblins left and right. The orc’s up on its feet now. Without my shield up, keeping my distance seems smart, so I hurl my sword at it, aiming for the back of its neck. The blade slices through the air, perfect trajectory, ready to strike… until the bastard catches it.

I skid to a stop, watching as the orc casually snaps my sword in two. As the hilt and blade hit the ground, I can’t help but snicker. Should’ve seen that coming. But hey, it’s not like I’m running out of swords.

I scan the battlefield and spot a bunch of fallen goblin weapons—crudely made, but steel nonetheless. Perfect. I focus on the scattered blades, feeling the cold metal resonate with my mana. Controlling one weapon is easy enough, but a dozen? Well, there's a first time for everything.

The orc springs toward me. I flick my wrist, and the goblin weapons lift off the ground, hovering in midair for a split second before I send them flying, one by one, straight at the beast’s face.

The cudgel with steel shards up top smashes into the orc's cheek, knocking it off balance. It recovers fast, though—barely a scar on its ugly mug—before swatting away the second blade with a swing of its meaty hand. The third hammer, however, finds its mark, jabbing the orc right in the nose.

The beast growls in pain, right on cue to catch a fourth, fifth, and—why not—a sixth strike. It’s draining as hell. I can feel my mana bleeding out in chunks, but I keep the hits coming.

The orc stumbles back, trying to shield its face, but I switch up and aim for a spot it didn’t see coming. The groin. It has one, right? Judging by the howl of agony, yeah, it does. The damage might be small, but it’s enough to hold it in place. All I need now is a decisive blow—

ROAR! The orc, finally fed up, lets out a roar. So loud, it shakes the cave walls and rattles me to my core.

“Sh-it!” I stutter, losing my connection in shock. The weapons drop, and the beast lunges at me. I scramble back, only to slip and kiss the dirt face first.

My heart pounds in my ears as I activate mana shield. My chest is on fire, mana crawling over my skin, but not fast enough. The orc’s on me, ready to turn my head into a pancake, when—BAM! It’s gone.

Silence crashes in the next second. I lift my head, and it’s clear why. Rox steps into view, bringing with him an aura that squeezes my heart like a vice. I can't breathe—no, he's making sure I can’t breathe. I collapse again, my eyes glued to his blood-stained boot.

“Don’t you dare cross me again if you don’t have the guts to win,” he says, his voice seething with anger, before pacing off.

The pressure finally eases, and the chaos of battle resumes. One thought crosses my mind: Guess I really need to stop biting off more than I can chew. Who am I kidding? After all the cockiest shit I’ve done, including this fuck-up, I’d rather stab myself in the face than quit.

There’s only one way this ends: I finish that orc.

I boot two goblins out of my way just as they’re about to attack, then yank out the last of my mana potion. Gulping it down, I extend a hand toward Bad Stain—well, more like his sword, which he’s about to waste on a dead goblin for the third time. He doesn’t need it. The connection snaps into place, and the sword zips into my hand.

With my mana topped up a bit, a good weapon in hand, and a few goblin weapons as backup, I slip into the crack in the wall, following the path where the orc and Rox disappeared.

It’s not really a path, just a steep drop, but I handle it without breaking a sweat. And there they are, in an open area, locked in a stalemate. Rox is throwing punches that look like they could level a house, but they’re barely making a dent in the orc. And the orc’s doing the same right back. I squint. Yep, they’re just brawling—screaming their lungs out, each trying to force the other down.

“Just lop its head off and call it a day,” I grumble, but then I spot the problem—Rox’s weapon isn’t in his hand. It’s wedged high up in the ceiling, of all places. Still, he’s a high-level fighter.

“Come on, use your brain,” I mutter to myself. “Back off, grab a backup weapon, or hell, just fry him with mana. Make him kneel, then snap his neck... anything!” Big, tough leader, huh? Nah, he’s just a kid lost without his favorite toy.

But who would believe me? I let out a breath, groaning. I don’t have time for this. Let’s kill the orc.

I’m about to send the weapons flying at the beast again when I’ve a sudden realization: last time, they barely made a scratch. No point in repeating the same trick unless I make it count. But how? How did Rox pierce the orc’s chest yesterday? Their skin’s tough as rock.

Then appears a wild idea. Mana! Magic! It’s done crazier things. Surely, it can cut through rock. I need to charge the weapons—wait, they’re already charged—no, charge their edges. That way, the mana hits first.

I already have a connection with the weapons. It’s just a matter of manipulating the mana inside to the out—Crack! There’s a spark, and the dagger I’m working on crumbles to pieces, landing in a heap at my feet.

Uh, what! Confused, I grab one of the fragments. It’s charred, burned from the inside out. So, it couldn't handle mana? None of these weapons can? Yeah, of course. Expected no less from goblin-made junk.

I drop the useless sticks and scan the area for something with a bit more bite. I clench my fist, and there it is—Brad’s blade. Made by the system, built to handle mana. I can feel the energy pulsing inside it, and as I guide it out, it flows effortlessly. Carefully, I wrap it around the edges, coating the blade in a thin layer of raw power.

Once I’m done, it hums with life, a faint glow running along its sharp sides. I give it a few swings, feeling the balanced weight and watching the golden trail it leaves behind. Now we're talking.

I consider a remote attack, but quickly decide against it. What if the brute catches it, again? I’m not climbing back up to borrow another weapon. That leaves me with one option. A risky one. Then again, going back empty-handed is even riskier. So, let’s do this.

I leap out of hiding and make a beeline for the fight. Rox manages a few skillful blows on the orc—one to the gut, two across its face, and then a roundhouse kick to the side, sending the beast rolling back. But the orc bounces back faster than I can blink, launching itself at Rox like a damn thunderbolt. In an instant, it’s returned the favor—stronger, faster. Rox stumbles, about to hit the ground, but instead gets kicked into the wall just like he did to the orc.

Can they really learn from us? Shit! And if that wasn’t bad enough, the orc’s now got its massive hand around Rox’s throat, squeezing the life out of him.

“Come on, give the kid a break!” I yell, closing in on the bastard, blade at the ready.

The orc glances up, eyes locking onto me, but it's too late. My sword is already slicing into the back of its knee, cutting through that rock-hard skin like a hot knife through butter. The beast lets out a peculiar roar that doesn't rumble through the cave. Instead, it grates on my ears, so harsh that I nearly lose focus.

Blood sprays out in a messy arc as the orc releases Rox, collapsing to the ground, its leg now barely hanging on by a thread of muscle and sinew.

“Jesus! That’s some bloody damage!” I mutter, half impressed with myself. But this isn’t over yet.

I swoop in for the kill. “No… No… No!” Rox yells out for some reason, but I don't give it a second thought. I bring my sword down onto the throat of the squirming orc.

Not supposed to be its weak point, but mana doesn’t care. It slices through just as smoothly as before, but not all the way. So, I slash again. Blood sprays across my shirt, and the orc’s head rolls away while its body goes limp.

“That wasn’t so hard,” I say, grinning at how easily the mana-imbued blade did its job. Kind of surprised, actually. So a level 0 guy can take down a level 23 orc if he just wraps his blade in mana? Just like that? Why hasn’t everyone done this?

But then the grin fades as I catch sight of Rox’s face—pure terror. “What have you done?”