Everything hurt. Dren struggled to stand up and all the air went out of his lungs. In that dim ghostly light cast by the roots overhead, he looked at his arms. They were bowed in, the bones shattered. Try as he might he couldn’t move his fingers, the very attempt only bringing him more pain. Worse than that, he looked down at his twisted legs. They didn’t hurt. Or it was better to say he couldn’t feel them. When he tried to move them, nothing happened. His gasping breaths came faster as he started to panic.

‘I’m crippled again.’ His heart sank into his stomach and he choked on his panic. He had loved his new healthy body. To be freed from that wretched cage of a crippled body. Had been the best part of the whole integration. Now. Just as he was truly getting comfortable with his new body. He was a cripple again.

Panic flooded him and he flailed around trying to make his broken limbs work or his unfeeling legs move. All it did was bring him more pain and cause his already low health to dip even further. Hot tears ran down his face. Not from the pain even as his arm twisted and fully broke when he tried to push himself up. But from the sheer terror of being crippled again. A critical health warning flashed in his vision but he barely registered it. Out of his mind with terror at the situation he found himself in, he couldn’t process it. Then something happened. Another system message flashed as his second arm snapped when he put all his weight on it. The blast of pain and damage was followed by a surge of vitality that rushed out from the center of his chest. As if his thundering heart pumped raw vital energies instead of blood. It flooded thru his body and into his limbs. His twisted and mangled arms snapped back into place with a mind-shattering surge of pain. Yet, Dren barely noticed as with it also came a surge of pain from his legs. It was a million times better than the blank numbness from below his waist.

The sight of his legs realigning and twitching wildly as the intense pain coursed thru him like lightning. Were the happiest sight he had seen since the first day he stood up in that musty stone room. In what seemed like hours but had at most been a few seconds. Dren had managed to cause enough self-harm to deplete his health to zero and trigger his Life Surge. Still gasping for air. With tears and snot staining his face he stood up. The assassin almost burst into tears again, this time of joy. But was distracted by a sudden burst of brilliant white light. Looking back he took in the scene.

The crimson troll was staggering back from the downed Mike. Whose lower body was almost flattened. Yet the defender wasn’t panicking. Instead, he was moving a glass vial of crimson liquid to his lips even as Jen continued healing him. The healer was also gulping down a glass vial, this time one of azure liquid.

Dren felt a wave of self-loathing. He had panicked when injured while these two had thought to use the precious and powerful potions. That self-loathing turned to hate. Hate for the troll that had injured it. It even spilled over to the others, his true enemies. As if somehow his being injured and growing hysterical was their fault. It was irrational, true. But helped him push away those few horrible moments he thought he was crippled again. Taking ahold of his cloak he used it to wipe his face clean before he hardened his gaze. His anger and hatred threatened to send him into a wild fury. But after his recent breakdown, his mind clamped down on that urge. Instead using that fury to fuel his focus. Spotting his daggers, he started moving.

*****

Jen dropped the empty potion bottle. Now was not the time to worry about saving them for the future. She had never heard of the boss getting some sort of power up during the fight. Not only was it faster and stronger, but she could also see its health ticking up steadily. She had used her obscenely expensive Blinding Light spell on the troll. It had even partially resisted, blinding it for a mere two seconds instead of the normal six. Her healing before had barely kept Mike alive. As the thing practically jumped up and down on the prone defender. He had used a health potion as well. But he had a deep health pool and she had already used up most of her mana during the fight.

Thus she had been forced to use one of her last potions. Five had seemed like so many a week ago. Now, she had none. She would have to beg and borrow to get another from someone later. Putting that aside she shouted at Sara. “Fire. We need your fire! Mike needs more time to fully heal.” Broken limbs were restored only if the person was fully topped up on health points. It was one of the quirks of the system and how its miraculous healing worked. One wouldn’t die as long as they had health points left, no matter how broken their body was. But debilitating injuries tended to heal slowly. Such as crushed legs. Yet if one hit full health they would instantly be restored. Unless specific restorative magic was used or you had a passive trait like the troll's regeneration.

Jen cursed when the mage didn’t move. But seemed rooted in place. The few seconds her blinding light had bought them was up. She would have to use it again, but would she have enough mana left to fully top off Mike? He had used his Stone affinity passive to expand his health pool temporarily. While that had helped him survive the troll's brutal assault, it now worked against them getting him restored enough to walk. Raising her staff to cast her debuff again she froze.

A figure rushed in, little more than a blur. Two hands flashed as they came to a stop behind the troll. Wide bleeding cuts appeared all along the back of both knees. The enraged crimson-skinned troll stumbled and toppled down to fall on its knees. Its club swung back at an impossible speed. And yet the miraculously still fighting assassin twisted barely avoiding the blow. Before snapping like a spring to follow after the attacking limb. His daggers were but blurs as they slashed and stabbed the wrist of the club-holding hand. A moment later and the club went flying away as it slipped free of the now useless appendage. It almost hung free from the wrist.

“How?” That was all Jen could say. She was certain that blow was enough to have crippled the assassin. Odd toughness or not.

*****

Dren watched the club go sailing free. His gaze narrowed to an extreme point by his intense fury-fueled focus. Turning his gaze back to the troll he focused on its side. Not only had his gaze sharpened. But so had his Assassin’s eyes ability. The normal hazy glow showing critical spots was gone. Instead, there were hard lines seeming to show him exactly where he needed to slash or stab to cause the most damage. His body seemed to move almost before the troll’s arm started to swing back at him. Letting him dodge by a hair’s breadth as he slammed his dagger into the troll's side. The blade fit perfectly into the glowing line marking where he would do the most damage.

Spinning away he avoided another blow even as the behemoth stood back up on its regenerated stubby legs. Dren didn’t hesitate and dived between them. Above the troll howled in fury and anticipated agony even before his dagger swept overhead. It tried to lock its knees to catch him but was too slow. Though it almost did catch his trailing cloak. Spinning around, almost like a ballerina doing a pirouette his dagger slashed out. Following the glowing line on the stomach of the troll. A moment later its bloated belly split open to spill blood and bile. New glows appeared in his gaze as the troll continued to clutch its groin trying to get hits jewels back in their pouch.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Forward he rushed and he thrust his arm up to the shoulder into the things eviscerated belly. Ignoring the burning sensation of its stomach acids trying to dissolve him, he stabbed at every glowing organ he could reach. When the troll flailed, more intent on just knocking the painful attacker away than doing damage. Dren stepped on the swinging limb and used its added momentum to give him a boost that allowed him to flip up and over the beast. Landing behind it he snapped back and stabbed both daggers into its back. Instead of darting away, he started rapidly stabbing one dagger after the other into its back. Slowly using them to climb up the beast while leaving twin trails of bleeding wounds in his wake.

Between keeping its guts from further spilling out, its precious jewels from being lost, and the newest flash of blinding light. The troll seemed unable to respond to the pest climbing it. Once at the head of the beast. Dren dug the tips of his boots into two of the wounds he had caused climbing up it. With a solid enough foothold. His hands and more importantly his daggers were free to do their grisly work. And work they did.

Balanced precariously as he was didn’t seem to stop him as he slammed both daggers into the sides of the troll's head. Stabbing up to the hilt into the ear holes on the side of its head. Instantly, he wrenched them out and again crossed them before the troll's thick neck. The sharp blades cut through the rubbery hide and the meatier parts below. Still not done he slammed both blades into the still blinded eyes. Despite all the damage, the thing was somehow still standing. Dren could even feel the wounds his feet were jammed into pushing him out as they healed. But, that seemed enough for the dim-witted troll to free up its hands. One reached back as if intent on grabbing him. But Dren stabbed his left dagger into the thing's meaty shoulder and twisted away from the grasping hand. His right dagger was a blur as he rapidly stabbed the thing. Even when all critical spots he could reach were gone, he just kept stabbing while his arm seemed to turn into a blur.

This continued for several seconds as Dren twisted around its back while stabbing faster than seemed possible. His arm burned with the effort and he was getting short of breath even with the constant trickle of stamina points from his dagger’s drain effect. Finally, the troll seemed done with the pesky attacker that seemed like an itch he couldn’t scratch. It turned around and slammed itself back towards the wall.

Slamming his dagger into the base of the troll's neck he pulled himself up and once standing on its shoulder jumped away. Just as the behemoth crashed back first into the wall. Dren had been forced to leave his dagger behind as when he tried to pull it free it hadn’t come easily. Almost as if it was stuck in something. Looking at the Troll that dropped like a puppet with its strings cut. He thought he knew what that was. The things spine.

Eyes filled with malicious mirth he spoke even as he approached, drawing his spare dagger. “How do you like it? Being crippled and helpless.”

No words came from the beast. But its regenerated eyes stared back at him. Gone was the glazed-over gaze of stupidity it had at first. Or the burning glare of rage it had after its sudden power-up. No, now those beady eyes looked on with what could only be fear. A look that vanished when two daggers once again pierced them.

*****

Panting hard Dren gasped for air. His stamina was almost completely empty. But looking at the troll, its body still slumped against the wall and covered in bleeding wounds. It was worth it. A moment later the last of its hit points seeped out one of its countless wounds and it died.

Dren swayed as a strange mix of sensations hit him. He felt the slight rush of increased attributes from a level up hit him. Normally a pleasant sensation. But at the same time, his exhaustion took a new spike. His gasping turned into wheezing and his vision started to darken. Looking at his stats he saw his stamina pool had increased but as normal he got no instant stamina with it. This pushed him into an even lower percentage of stamina remaining. Cursing he fumbled with his pouch and managed to bring a trembling hand holding a yellow potion to his lips.

Gulping thru gasps he swallowed the yellow liquid and a sudden surge of stamina filled his body. His breathing stabilized and his fading vision sharpened once again.

“That was close.” Mike said with a weak chuckle.

Dren looked over at him to see Jen giving him an angry look. “You have no idea how close. I am completely out of mana and my potion timer is on cooldown. Not that I have any more mana potions left.”

“Geez. You don’t have to be like that. Here.” Mike pulled a blue potion from his pouch. “A gift from a noooble knight to a fair maiden. As thanks for saving his life!” The young man flashed her a big smile and waggled his eyebrows at her.

Jen gave a small huff but took the potion and put it in her own pouch.

Mike continued to gaze at her for a few more moments as if expecting something more. But disappointedly he then turned to Dren. “Jeremy! You are a freaking monster! Holy geez. I am sure glad you are on our side.” He laughed.

Those words reminded Dren that he wasn’t on these people's side. It forced him to remember that despite having fought beside them, they were his enemies. Part of him fought against that thought. Another part clung to the moment of hate he had wrongfully pushed onto them.

While the other three talked as they recovered, their assassin stood rooted in a moment of hesitation. His mind battling with his desire for power and the growing friendly feelings he had towards these natives. At the edge of his vision, his invader quest seemed to burn, as if drawing him towards it. Off to the side, Sara said something in a haughty tone to which Mike just laughed at.

‘Do I need to kill them? Could I not just… continue to pretend to be one of them? They could even be my friends. Real friends. I’ve never had a friend before.’ Dren’s thoughts continued and he was almost certain his quest text was now pulsing.

‘Stupid quest. I don’t even know what I would get from you.’ He suddenly thought, his mind almost fully made up. These people could be his friend. By the time the invasion started properly, they might even trust him enough not to care he wasn’t a native.

The text of his quest was now growing and shrinking in size. The text truly seemed to be outlined in flames as if demanding his attention. Dren scoffed and tried to mentally push it away. To his surprise, it worked and the quest text stopped acting weird. Returning to a small set of text hovering at the edge of his vision… or mind. It wasn’t like he actually saw it.

Just as he started to turn toward the group and join in the celebration. A new set of text popped up, boldly in his view forcing him to read it.

Timed Quest Event: A Betrayal Most Foul

Slay your native dungeon party before they can exit the dungeon.

Reward: Unique Skill

Penalty for failure: Status as an invader unmasked.