Good thing they didn’t give me a crossbow.
R emembering his first fight in Ascension, Raven adjusted his grip on the spear and braced himself. He had come a long way from being a noob running headfirst into a fight. Since then, he had killed hundreds of mobs much stronger than this rodent.
Not only was his willpower now much stronger thanks to the challenges he had been put through, but his combat skills were now ingrained in his mind, having become a part of his new identity.
Still, he knew better than to relax around an enemy, no matter how harmless. He couldn’t die in this challenge, but he could lose his chance to gain new skills.
As though to confirm his thoughts, the Rat grinned and threw itself at him, building speed in a matter of seconds.
Its rage and fury permeated the air, guided by the instinct to kill its target as if it were a corrida bull and Raven were the red cloth used to tease it.
Coming closer and closer, it stopped about thirty feet away from the rogue and, pressing its belly to the ground, jumped forward with amazing speed, right paw aimed at his head.
Raven rolled to the side and hastily jumped to his feet.
But before he could do anything, the Rat hit him with its tail, which sent him flying and spinning through the air.
Gripping his wounded shoulder, he rolled across the ground like tumbleweed before slamming the spear into the ground and halting. The blade screeched as it slid across the stone slabs, leaving a deep furrow.
Another shriek escaped the Rat’s throat as it dashed at him again.
Raven darted about the platform, just barely managing to counterattack as he continued to adapt to the absence of his skills and gear. More often than not, his instincts saved him from being hit as the Rat attacked too quickly for his mind to react.
A strike. A turn. The skull-crushing claws whizzed past his head as he took a step to the side, prodding the Rat’s side with his spear and leaping back to dodge its tail.
Without even realizing it, he was entering a trance, his mind completely focused on his opponent, his every move just another step toward his goal — the Rat’s death.
Raven felt like he was the fighter in the ring and the observer at the same time, controlling the space around him, his mind calculating his opponent’s strength, and memorizing its defense and attack patterns. All the small details that used to escape his attention before were now clear, and the solution to any problem instant.
Step to the right. Bow. Turn. Target the spot to the left of the Rat’s wound. No excessive moves. Seventy-four percent chance that his opponent would use its agile tail to try to rip the spear out of his hand. Twenty-six percent chance that it’d try to knock him down and jump on him.
The best solution was to spin the spear in his hand, dodge to the side, and counter-attack, targeting the heart.
He was so in control of his movements that he felt like he was dancing, not fighting, his moves becoming smoother, and his attacks more precise.
THUD! THUD! THUD!
Just as he expected, the Rat used its tail to try to rip the spear from his hand but made a fatal mistake in doing so. Using the opportunity, Raven struck trice, aiming at the heart, each blow stronger and more precise than the previous one. When he landed the final blow, there was a squish and a cry. The Rat stood for a moment and then collapsed, its eyes empty.
Raven stood over the corpse, feeling like he had reached some new level of skill. This fight left him feeling things he had never experienced before and thus couldn’t quite describe or explain.
“It felt so... good.”
He felt an urge to fight more. No, he craved combat. Craved it like a thirsty man craved water.
The spear disappeared from his hand, and a thirty-second timer appeared in the air over the platform, starting a new countdown.
Yes... More!
His opponent’s strength depended on the challenge level. Nine more fights awaited him, each one a tad more difficult than the one that came before it. Considering that the difficulty level had already been increased, Raven couldn’t imagine what kind of hell awaited him.
The weapon lottery began when the timer reached ten and graced him with a sword. The blade was longer than the one he usually wielded, but it was still better than a spear he didn’t know how to use at all.
***
Seven hours and five minutes later
Having killed his ninth mob, Raven sank to the ground, closing his surviving eye. His body was bitten, cut, punctured, and slashed all over.
He was still far from fully mastering his new strength. When facing stronger enemies, he made mistakes that, like a snowball rolling down a hill, gradually turned into an avalanche threatening to bury him.
The short thirty-second breaks were practically useless, but he still took them, staring at his remaining HP, wondering if seven points would be enough to survive the final encounter.
Since neither the player nor the mobs could use their skills in this challenge, the damage depended on how serious a wound like this would’ve been in the real world.
Another thing that baffled him was the striking difference between the opponent and the weapon. In round five, he had to fight a flying mob with a dagger, in round nine — a disappearing mob with a club, and in round four, he had to use darts against an Ogre!
The more he fought, the more certain he was that this was intentional and not the work of the malicious RNG gods.
Sensing danger, he jumped aside just in time to avoid being squashed by a seven-foot-tall ape.
His heart missed a beat. He had been careless, which nearly killed him. Granted, this wouldn’t have been his first stupid death but still. If Ascension had rewards for dying frequently and ridiculously, he would’ve been the richest man in the game. However, this stupid death would’ve meant the end of the event for him.
Name: Depth Hunter
Having pulled himself together, he glanced at the mob’s name and then at the weapon, and cursed, gritting his teeth.
Fuck. A bullwhip? A bullwhip against the motherfucking King Kong?!
“Fucking fuck!”
He was overwhelmed with anger, but he wasn’t going to give up. Gathering the last drops of strength, he prepared for a long and difficult fight.
***
Some time earlier
The Alliance members who had perished during the disaster were still in shock, struggling to figure out what had killed them. None of the spies (who remained in the enemy ranks until the very end) had any idea what had happened.
Those who knew about Raven’s intention to use an extremely powerful artifact were the elite of their clans. It wasn’t until the clan leaders ordered a retreat that the spies sensed that something was off. But then it was too late to do anything about it.
“How did that happen?!” Queen screamed in fury. “We had them cornered! All we had to do was crush them and show it to the world. Gah! Fuck them!”
Pacing up and down the platform with Zal’Sscar’s statue, she showered her opponents with curses, her steps dogged by the three of her clanmates who had respawned at the same spot.
Some Alliance members had already completed a few challenges and were accumulating Influence Spheres so that they could take higher-level ones but this sudden defeat had cost them all their savings. Except for those who had entrusted their Spheres to someone who wouldn’t be fighting. Which was what Queen had done.
No one made any comments about her fit. Some resumed their hunt for Influence Spheres, regretting the massive waste of time and effort that was the fight against the Rollin’ Dice and their comrades, while others went to meet their friends and retrieve the Spheres that they had entrusted them for safekeeping.
Whatever had happened on the flying island, no answers were available right now, and neither were the means to get them.
Queen finally realized that, too. With her heart heavy with the hatred for Kingmaker, she headed for Zal’Sscar’s statue to take her challenge. Two minutes later, her body became one of the several hundred smaller statues that surrounded the hero.