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Current Inventory :
El's RING
[FOOD and Rations]
Dried strips of meat x 24 and Bread x 7
Raw meat chunks x 5 ~ 3 kg each
Water canteen x 2 [E] ~10L each
Spices (assortment)
Bundles box ]
[Artifacts]
Runic Fragment
(hidden)
Warmth Ring [P]
E: (Foveo)
Breathless Ring [C]
E: (Respiratio Nullus Arca)
Cleanse Ring [C]
E: (Mundo)
Protective Pendant [E]
E: (Defendo)
Revealing Monocle [C]
E: (Apparere Occulta)
Trusty Spyglass [P]
E: (UNBREAKING I)
[Key Items]
Diary
Insignia x2
Map I x2
Metal card x2
Photos x2
Documents [U]
Elf’s Drawings
keys
[Items]
Energy Crystals x5
Spare Clothes
Ropes
Sewing kit
Cloaks [E]
Spare Leather Armour
Torch
[Armaments]
Daggers x2
Arrowsx240 quiver loaded
Mission: Stupid Lexi and The Mission Impossible
Goals:
1) Don’t die.
It seemed like a simple enough start, but I could practically hear my own voice mocking me from the page. If I was listing “not dying” as an objective, I knew things had already gone south.
2) Make my way to the pillar and try not to get shredded by the boss or the elites along the way.
I could picture the Overlord coiled around that pulsing column, its massive, armored body a fortress of scales and muscle. The elites were another problem, feeding off the pillar’s energy like it was a damn feast. I’d have to slip past them without being seen, without triggering their instincts to attack. This alone felt like a death sentence, and yet, somehow, it was only the beginning.
3) Blow up the energy pillar while not dying to the boss as I deliver the payload.
I grimaced as I wrote it. This part was more theory than anything solid—a desperate, half-baked idea based on a gut feeling that disrupting the pillar would throw the monsters into chaos.
But that meant getting close, dangerously close, to the Overlord. Let’s hope it’s too slow to kill me before I can pull this off.
The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.
4) Run like my ass is on fire—200 meters to cross and blast through the wall.
This part was as simple as it was terrifying. If I survived the pillar explosion, I’d have mere seconds to cover 200 meters, with every monster in the cavern likely tearing after me. And if I made it to the wall, I’d have to set off a blast strong enough to break through solid rock and dive into the water without a moment’s hesitation.
5) Survive the blast.
A short, grim note. The force of the explosion would be immense, and there was a very real possibility I’d be caught in the shockwave, especially if I misjudged the distance or my timing.
6) Survive the underwater pressure.
I didn’t know how far the tunnel would go, how deep I’d have to dive, or how long I could hold my breath. The pressure would be crushing, and if I ran out of air before finding the exit, there’d be no second chances. The thought of drowning in that dark, frigid water sent a cold shiver down my spine.
7) Live to see another day…hopefully.
The last words hung on the page, a thin thread of hope in an otherwise impossible plan. I wasn’t asking for much. Just one more day, one more chance to make it out of this nightmare and back into the world above.
Somehow.
I stared at the page, the list of goals scrawled out in my messy handwriting and felt a strange sense of calm settle over me. It was madness, yes. Every step of it was pure, reckless insanity. But there was a clarity in seeing it written down, a purpose that steadied my nerves and sharpened my resolve. If this was going to be my last stand, then I would make it count.
I folded the page and tucked it back into the journal, resting it against the wall beside me. Then I took a deep, final breath, centering myself as I felt the torchlight flicker beside me, the warmth and brief comfort in the cold, dark passage.
Time to work…
Going over the goals again, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d completely lost it. No sane person would even entertain this plan, let alone commit to it.
There were a hundred different problems with it—each one a reason to turn back, to admit defeat. I rubbed my temples, feeling the strain settling in, a dull ache that pulsed behind my eyes.
“Stop bitching, Lexi,” I muttered to myself, pinning the goals page to the wall, the words a stark reminder of what I was about to do. I grabbed another page, smoothing it out before putting pencil to paper again, the lead scratching against the surface as I listed out the issues in brutal honesty.
Problems:
1) Survivability is fucking low.
I let out a dark, humorless chuckle as I wrote it, the understatement almost laughable. Between me and the pillar was a sea of monsters—a couple hundred, at least. And they weren’t just the usual fodder.
No, they were elites, dozens of them, each one powerful enough to rip me apart if I so much as stumbled. And then there was the Overlord, that behemoth coiled around the pillar, a creature that radiated pure, primal power, a presence that felt like death itself. Each one of them would be more than happy to tear me to pieces, to crunch through bone and sinew, and feast on whatever was left.
Huff…even with Exira, this was madness. I’d need every ounce of it, every burst of strength and speed just to make it through the elites.
A quick surge at Level 1 might buy me a couple of seconds, enough to slip past a few, but I’d need to push Exira to its absolute limits just to stun the Overlord. And stunning it was all I could hope for. The idea of actually wounding that beast was a joke—a delusion that would get me killed faster than anything else.
I sighed, running a hand through my hair, feeling the weight of the plan pressing down on me. This was suicide, plain and simple. But the path was set, and each step was one I’d have to take if I wanted any hope of seeing the surface again.
2) I need to make a bomb. Probably more than one.
I grimaced as I wrote it. I’d barely scraped by in my battles so far, relying on skill, Exira, and sheer luck. But to break through the horde and reach the exit, I’d need something bigger. I needed a way to disrupt the pillar, to throw the monsters into chaos, to create enough of a distraction that I could make a break for the exit.
The problem was, that I had no idea where to start. I’d never made anything like this before, never needed to. But the pieces were slowly coming together in my mind, a faint spark of an idea that was just out of reach, waiting to be grasped. I sighed again, massaging my temples as I turned to my ring, searching through its contents with a mixture of frustration and hope.
The first thing I pulled out was a handful of energy crystals. I held one up, examining it in the torchlight. The crystal was cold, smooth, its surface faintly reflective, shimmering with a subtle inner glow. As I studied it, I felt a familiar prickle of energy, a faint but unmistakable signature that reminded me of the energy radiating from the pillar itself.
These crystals… they contain energy, I realized. The elf party must have ventured into this hellhole to mine them, risking everything to extract these rare fragments of power. That was the only explanation. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
I counted the crystals—5 in total. Each one seemed to pulse faintly with stored energy, a dangerous, latent power that, if unleashed, could be devastating. I ran a finger along one, feeling the cool surface and the hum of potential just beneath. There was enough here to make a bomb, maybe even a few, if I could figure out a way to set them off.
I scratched my stubble, turning the idea over in my mind, and piecing it together with each new thought. The first requirement was energy. Check, I thought, glancing at the crystals. That part was covered. Next, I’d need a triggering mechanism—something to destabilize the energy and create a blast. Something to make these crystals volatile enough to explode on command.
I felt a faint grin tugging at the corner of my mouth as the answer clicked into place. What if I tamper with the enchantments? Each item I’d gathered along the way had some level of enchantment, a protective charm or enhancement woven into it.
If I could overload those, if I could push the enchantments beyond their breaking point, it might create the instability I needed. I dug deeper into my ring, pulling out 3 rings I had and some other stuff.
A plan began to take shape, rough and raw, but workable. I could embed each crystal with one of these rings, tampering with the enchantments to create a volatile chain reaction. The idea was simple: overload the enchantments, force them to destabilize, and trigger an explosive release of energy.
“Yes,” I murmured, barely above a whisper. This could work. I’d have to be careful, and precise. A single misstep and I’d blow myself up in the process. But if I could pull it off, if I could get the timing right, this could be the edge I needed.
I looked down at the crystals, a sense of grim satisfaction settling over me. Each one was a weapon now, a tool for survival. I could already imagine the explosion, the rush of energy tearing through the monsters, the wave of chaos that would buy me those precious seconds to reach the wall.
But there was no room for error. I’d have to test each one, and carefully push them to their limits without setting them off prematurely. Each crystal had to be perfect, and each trigger calibrated just right. This wasn’t just about brute force—it was a delicate balance, a calculated risk with no margin for failure.
I exhaled, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on me, a mix of dread and exhilaration tightening in my chest. This plan was insanity, a reckless gamble with my life on the line. But it was also my only chance, my one shot at escaping this cursed place and seeing daylight again.
Sitting cross-legged on the cold stone floor, I spread out the crystals, rings, and tools from my ring in front of me, arranging them with meticulous care born from equal parts exhaustion and focus. The flickering torchlight cast shadows across the makeshift workspace, the faint hum of energy from the crystals buzzing at the edge of my senses. I took a deep breath and set to work.
The first bomb was the slowest, every movement careful, and deliberate. I started by embedding a ring into the surface of the crystal, wedging it in deep enough to stay secure while leaving room for the enchantments to interact. With my knife, I scraped along the edges of the ring’s engraving, tampering with its stability, and forcing the dormant energy to strain against its constraints. The crystal pulsed faintly, a warning that I was treading on dangerous ground. My hands were steady, even as my heart pounded in my chest. One slip, one mistake, and I’d end up scattered across the cave in a burst of raw energy.
I smiled grimly as the first bomb came together, the crystal humming faintly as the ring’s enchantments began to fracture. It wasn’t pretty, but it would work. Setting it aside carefully, I moved on to the next, falling into a rhythm as I repeated the process, embedding, tampering, and stabilizing just enough to keep the crystals intact until I needed them to blow.
When all 5 bombs were finished, I wrapped them tightly in scraps of cloth, creating makeshift satchels that I could carry without risking accidental detonation. Each one was a ticking time bomb, pulsing with barely contained energy, and I felt a small flicker of pride as I tucked them into my pack. One problem solved.
Finally, I turned to my spear. The weapon was reliable, and sturdy, a trusted tool that had seen me through more battles than I could count. But for this plan, it needed an upgrade. Pulling out a length of durable rope, I attached it securely to the base of the spear, tying it off with several tight knots. The rope would let me retrieve the spear after throwing it, saving precious seconds in the chaos to come. Testing the weight, I gave the rope a firm tug, nodding in satisfaction as the spear held steady in my grip.
As I packed everything back into my ring, I felt a strange calm settle over me. The bombs, the repaired armor, the modified spear—they were all pieces of a puzzle, tools for a mission that would either end in my freedom or my death. The odds were stacked against me, the risks overwhelming, but I was as prepared as I could be.
This is it, I thought, rising to my feet and rolling my shoulders to shake off the tension. No turning back now.
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