Anytime now! Anytime the system, you can end the barrage!
All around, the arrows sang as they cut through the wind, landing into the splintered wood of the decrepit shack of a cabin that had become our makeshift shelter for the battle.
Turning back, I saw what I had feared the most. At the corner of the cabin, Roger lay in Rafael's hands. His wound, which should have healed by now, glowed an acidic green—a dark green that shouldn't exist, one that hissed with a newfound evil.
The damn system was at it again.
I've tried them all—every tonic, every incantation. Nothing, sir, nothing. Everything is just slowing the process, but it just keeps ticking. The DOT isn't going away and is not by our means.
Rafeal's words stuttered out as he continued to apply the failing tonics to that infested wound that continued to glow nefariously across Rodger's ribcage. It reeked of death. Its uncaged power brought a terrible odor, causing me to try to keep my morning rations inside and not out.
Opening my HUD, I saw firsthand what Rafael meant. Slowly, inching into a green bar, Rogers's health bar was depleting. It's still over halfway but falling nonetheless. No matter the speed, if nothing were done…no something would be done. I couldn't let my thoughts drop; if so, we would not have a chance.
The golden trail had let us into an abandoned encampment. One that told the marks of a past struggle. Broken arrowheads, blood dried into the ground, and the scent of battle filled the air. Odd, but nothing out of the ordinary. Mobs lived all around; when two groups ran into one another on their preordained paths, they would fight.
It wasn't anything new.
What was new was the sudden hoard that rained down from the hills to the East. They ran with the fury of a people forgotten and hungry. We fell into a battle formation without hesitation, fending them off with little trouble.
Overhead, the system told us of a wave encounter.
All we had to do was defeat the waves, and the momentary event would end.
The only problem was there were 15 waves to defeat, each growing in difficulty.
My heart skipped a beat as the arrows thumped against the cabin walls.
Looking above, I saw that we were only 12/15 waves completed, and already the goblins that ransacked us with arrows leveled in the 110s.
Each time, the levels were elevated by 10 additional levels.
That meant that by the last wave, we would be fighting a mob with levels rivaling anything ever seen in the realm until now.
Outside, Shadeo bellowed as he shined with a powerful brilliance, like a gem refracting light. His powered-up state encased him in magnificent glowing armor that reflected all projectile damage for a short time.
He was out there buying us time.
Buying me time.
In the last wave, Roger was hit by a stray viper shot, which was nothing that should have caused much concern. How wrong we were.
We had grown complacent. That's the trouble with being an adventurer; everything is preordained, every dungeon scripted, every event fought and detailed before. You always went in with information. Well, unless you were spearheading new content, then you didn't know, but those were the only ones who fought without knowing, and even then, they cautioned and restarted to get favorable matchups.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
Even Mercy's guild had been known to restart content they had prepared weeks in advance because of a sudden lava biome. They returned weeks later, attuned with fire-resistant armor and dragon-scale elixirs, only for the lava biome to not be there this time. That's how the realm was fought, with patience and preparation second to none.
I saw no preparation as I stared from a hole between the splintered logs. I saw an event that took a group by storm, one powered by that indignant system that wants nothing more than our demise.
Gritting my teeth and meeting Rafael's eyes, I got up and figured I had enough of a break, enough feeling bad for myself and our situation. It was time to do something.
What that thing was, well, I hope I found it out on the battlefield, preferably sooner rather than later, and while alive and not dead.
Quickly, with the wind at my feet, I sprinted out into the forest opening, now riddled with fallen arrows, making it seem like an archer's shooting gallery.
The scent of battle filled the air, feeding my adrenaline; I mentally opened some passives I had forgotten I'd ever channeled.
[Captain Limiter removed]
Before, I needed an eye patch to trigger it; now, it simply rested within me. A small piece of my power was locked away, bubbling with growing power; now released, it sent shockwaves across the battlefield.
Goblins, with their snares and spears for teeth, no longer looked hungry; fear began to satiate their bellies. Their feet no longer bore into the ground; now, on their heels, they were ready to flee.
Then, like the waves of a sea, the goblins separated into even lines of green as their Messiah stepped forward.
Large would be an understatement. Growling and glowing with a ruby red aura, his stature was double that of even the goblin chieftains, his body riddled with tattoos of a pitch black that shed a dark haze as if they were a living and growing thing. On his back was a battle-axe that doubled that of Shadeo's. A glistening steel pierced the air that it sat in; a quick inspection told this:
Goblin Myth Lord.
Rudgar is the Undefeated Breaker of Worlds.
Level. 150.
His eyes were calm and silver as they pierced my very soul. That was the worst of it. He did not scream, did not spittle as he yearned for warfare. He was placid, calm in the storm that shook around him. It was as if he knew he was a mountain peak amongst hills. He did not need to puff up his chest or show his teeth for us to know that his bite would devour one in a single swipe.
Then, breaking my worries, he spoke.
You have made an enemy of God, child. I am sorry to have made the journey and left our current war for this.
His eyes stared me down, judging me unworthy.
I attempted to prove him wrong, to send my gaze upon him, but I couldn't find that fire. My warren seemed locked away. That power that I still didn't understand entirely held dormant.
Now, of all time...
Instead, I popped it all. Every cool down, every potion, every item with a momentary buff was unleashed.
Looking over my head, I saw the passives trigger and stack, multiplying against one another, stacking in that satisfying way that power on top of power does.
This caught him; this brought that rueful smile onto his demon lips.
Now, this was worth making the journey.
He spoke as his voice rattled the trees, shaking their branches with a power that spoke volumes, breaking lesser men into pieces with sheer force.
Above me, debuffs popped up.
(Mythic Fear)
(Mythic For)
(Against all odds)
Shit…
With a swift movement that spoke of thousands of repetitions, if not hundreds of thousands, Rudgar reached over and held out his battle-axe, pointing it at me with a signal of some honorific code. A gladiator's mark. The rest of the goblins now kneed in admiration in the presence of their holy juggernaut.
I will banish you, child. Wipe you off the realm, then...
I'll finish your band in the name of God, who has granted me this power.
Then, Rudgar unleashed a furry of his passive buffs, stacking the same way we adventurers could.
Holy shit.
In ancient lore, a prophecy spoke of when the realm's creatures would gain the system's blessings, the beginning of the end—the Expansion of the Apocalypse.
Above, a trigger appeared.
A Worldwide System Alert.
Apocalypse Seeds Spread.
Across from me lay one of the seeds.
Gritting my teeth, I unsheathed the pair of double daggers I had acquired the day before. Nothing worthy of this. Two plain epic daggers, which I thought would be enough. Merely enchanted for piercing damage and resistance cutters, they looked meek compared to the skull-encrusted battle ax that reeked of power and was a rarity that could be housed in Jude's collection.
Even then, I felt fine. Not fine. I knew that this battle would require everything out of me. To come out victorious, I must channel everything at my disposal. On top of that, I would need to learn the fight patterns instantly. One false step was death. This would have to be a near-perfect run.
Feeling the hot energy that raced through me as I bounced on the heels of my feet.
I unleashed in a blur of motion, my feet becoming wind as the battle-ax met my daggers, accepting my dance. As if agreeing to be my partner in the fight.
You're quicker than you look, I said as I dashed backward, disengaging before something unexpected happened.
With a grin, Rudgar responded.
I will sprout, child. Apocalypse begins with me.
Not if I can't do anything about it.
With a roar, he charged viciously, blurring with a red fire around him.
The actual battle commenced.