Jude returned as the moon sliced the sky overhead. At first light, we would delve into the dungeon. Still, on the hill that overlooked the Golblin Woods to the East, my squad watched the forests for signs of trouble. Not being able to sleep, I went back on the hunt.
The woods were almost homogenous in the realm. Trees shared the same general patterns, differing in the particular log types unique to their region. Here in the Goblin Forest, the fungal log was their unique drop, making it somewhat contradictory. Typically, a unique log is something you would want for woodworking or crafting. This log was corroded and hollow, making it snap in two if too much pressure was applied, which is terrible for any craft. Unless someone purposely wanted the wooden shaft of a particular weapon to break after a single swing, which I knew no one up to any good that did. Once chopped down, you were meant to harvest the fungus and spores that grew on its bark, throwing away or using the reaming wood for a fire that burned low and slow.
This meant that the fungal must serve some greater purpose, right? Well, the greatest alchemists and herbalists alive have tampered with different concoctions to no avail. The best outcome was a potion that buffed every stat, but only slightly. Most classes focused on only a few stats, so why would someone want every stat enhanced slightly? What does a warrior want with wisdom or an archer with strength?
This potion never found a home in any dungeon or raid, so it was forgotten. This, by association, meant these very woods were also lost in the annals of time.
My footsteps made satisfying crunching sounds as I cared not for silence. I wanted everyone in the vicinity to know of my presence. Unwrapping the top of my Reaper, revealing its obsidian skull and piercing red eyes, I could feel the presence of the weapon seep into the realm.
Inspecting it closely, it read.
Axe of The Apocolypse
Weapon Type: Reaper (highest tier Battle-Axe)
Rarity: Mythic plus
Item requirements check
Honor requirement not met
Stats Maxed*
Special Skills
Arcanite Reaper: Downward slash that sends a pulse wave in the vertical direction
Cooldown: 15secs
Arcanite Sycthe: Horizontal slash that sends a pulse wave in the horizontal direction
Cooldown: 15 seconds
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
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I only have access to the first two abilities, essential as they sound; seeing them firsthand, I knew their power was unparalleled.
Noises came from my side as a group of goblins broke out from the shadows of the woods. Wielding their spears and sticks, they had the eyes of feral creatures as they rushed me down without a second thought or pause.
Gripping the Reaper tightly, I activated Arcanite Sycthe. My muscles strained to mimic the skill's motions. My forearms burning, the skill brought me swinging the Reaper from one end of my body to the other like a crescent moon. Sweating and panting, my breath became ragged at just completing the motion. My stamina bar went from full to halfway gone.
Shit, I thought.
My focus has always been on form. The fancier or more rare the skill, the less important it is; if one's form isn't perfect, the skill will never reach its pinnacle. This separates those at the frontline from those who struggle with the daily bounty boards.
Calm, the air stilled as the only sounds heard were my frantic pants. I'd never exerted myself with a single skill. Around me, the calmness unsettled me.
What of the goblins?
My eyes blurred with exertion, and they began to clear up, revealing the origin of this unsettling silence.
Chopped down, the area directly in front of me was cleaved in two. Eight goblins became sixteen as they lay scattered on the forest floor. Trees that dwarfed the age of man, set to stand the test of time, had fallen just as quickly.
In my head, the Reaper hummed with a power that wanted more. Sending my will into the beast, I calmed its hunger.
Damn, this thing was on the level of the blade of the soul…
But it takes a lot out of me, at least physically. The blade taps into my internal strength while the reaper feasts on my physique. Talk about a rough trade.
Talking to ourselves now, are we?
With a jump, I turned to meet the voice. How could anyone sneak up on me? I thought it was impossible, not with my awareness stat nearly maxed out. It must be the Reaper feasting on me; it made me falter.
It didn't make sense. The person who stood in between the trunks of fallen trees couldn't be who it was. Older, she looked older, more refined, and aged with time. She was beyond beauty. A flower, a night under the stars, a lifetime of memories could not compete with her shine, with her brilliance. To others, she would be the star of the ball, the girl far from reach; to me, she was everything and then some.
You, it can't be.
She smiled, her lips touching her eyes, her eyes touching my heart.
She could break me. She could shatter my skies with a single word.
Please don't utter that word.
I'm not.
What?
Wake up, Troy. Wake up before someone wakes you up.
Shaking my head awake, I looked around, searching for her. She wasn't there, only dead goblins and fallen trees. I had knocked out from the fatigue, fallen asleep standing, resting my weight upon the Reaper.
How long?
Pulsing with power, the Reaper was giving off an aura.
(FEAR PULSES) Enemies under your level are repelled.
You kept me safe with that; I can't be mad at you for siphoning my power then.
Looting the goblins took time, as I had doubled the work—nothing of fundamental importance. I mainly left everything on the corpses, pocketing only a few silver coins and a rare necklace I decided to equip, seeing as I had nothing in my jewelry slots.
Goblin's Tooth (Rare)
15% to gain frenzy on direct damage
(60 minute cooldown)
Sheesh, that cooldown was a travesty. No wonder this area isn't farmed anymore. I could name five jewelry pieces off the top of my head with similar effects but much lower cooldowns. What a shame, I thought as I began to make my way back to camp.