It was hard.

That was an understatement.

It was as if the world had decided to change the difficulty of everything by a multiple of five.

Without asking us permission or giving us a respectful notice.

What a rude realm, indeed.

A monstrous swing came in an arc that brought shade and shadow, moving with time I was able to dodge the blow, but was still flung back by the mere force which it exerted

I could feel my health drain.

Then, that warm honey sensation that filled my bloodstream and hoisted my heart; the rush of heals begun.

Glancing back I spotted the two pocket healers as they enchanted the battlefield with their beautiful protections. That seemed more precious now when needed, as all things do.

Next to them, a druid who usually plays the frontline, was rebranded as an off-healer.

A feisty young man who displayed the role of damage dealer like a badge.

Now, as he sat back and watched as death was only ever narrowly evaded and glancing blows severed and did not sliver, he no longer prided being among the frontlines.

Maybe healing was what he was meant to do.

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And maybe, if we survived this whole ordeal, he would visit our own Mistress of Magic and fork over the gold for a respec.

I cherished the heals, but I also knew not to become reliant on them.

The best course of action was to avoid damage all-together.

To hit without getting hit yourself.

How obvious, I grinned at myself.

If only I could do that….

A crashing of steel meeting rough ground, followed by the eruption of said ground breaking into splinters of earth, brought me to a tumble.

I had dodged it perfectly, this time it was the damn debris from the blow that chinked at my resistances and armor rating, eating away at my health bar like a termite.

Gritting my teeth, I changed my initial observation- it was more like a multiple of ten.

To be hit by one swing with the boss's full power might mean instant death.

Glancing over I was met by Shelly.

She tensed yet flowed.

A swing came her way.

I needn't shout.

I needn't play the role of raid leader, she knew to move, to doge the a.o.e afterwards as well.

No matter how difficult.

No matter how cruel.

No matter how unfair.

Skill will always triumphs.

At least, that's how our realm worked for now.

Minutes had crept and gone by with every swing a pattern was revealed.

With time we managed to damage the foe.

His health bar was dropping, but with that came new phases in which moves we had never seen or prepared for.

After a staggered strike, the boss was brought to his knees.

At half-health the next phase had begun.