The Last Experience Point

Chapter 80: The Beginning of Zachys Calador: Doomsday Slash I

If Zach had only known that, in just a few short minutes from now, he’d be unintentionally caught on live video doing something that not only shouldn’t have been possible, but that would put a mark on him for the rest of his entire life while making most of the civilized world view him with an equal mixture of awe, reverence, and in many cases, fear, he probably would’ve exercised a bit more discretion before going through with it. Truly, if someone had only come along and warned him that there would be no turning back from what he was about to do—that any chance of living a normal life free from the burdens of political guilds, scheming, and responsibility would be forever burned away so absolutely that even just the suggestion of it would become unthinkable, there was a pretty good chance he would’ve tried to think of some other way.

But, since no one told him that, he was destined to end up doing it. A domino cannot be blamed for the existence of the one before it, nor can it be blamed for the one behind: but if it falls, it falls, and so continues the chain.

For now, though, having been driven onwards by a deep, primal, and protective instinct that implored him to immediately return to Kalana’s side, Zach was sprinting incautiously up rounded hill after rounded hill, mercilessly flattening every stalk of grass that had the misfortune of finding itself beneath his feet as he raced back to the raid group. He pumped his arms as he ran, moving fast enough that he left behind an unnatural, smoky cloud of dirt and dust in his wake as he tore across the terrain at the kind of speed only a DEHV should have been able to travel. But the faster he moved, the more intense the resistance in the air became, and he found it difficult to breathe at times as a constant blast of wind made him feel like he was charging through a hurricane. Unwilling to slow down for anything, he broke numerous rocks of varying sizes into several, smaller pieces as he stomped down on them in his dash to rejoin the fight.

I need to hurry back. Someone might need my help!

As the world around him rushed by so quickly that he struggled to keep his bearings straight, his hands and feet continued to release a steady, jet-like stream of bright, burning embers; unlike on Archian Prime, though, where the cold extinguished them practically as soon as they appeared, here in Shadowfall Coast, under this wrathful, unforgiving summer sun, the embers not only lingered far longer, but they even began to leave a glowing trail of sorts on the ground. Zach was grateful that they didn’t appear capable of actually starting a fire, as he certainly wouldn’t have the time to stop and put it out. As things were, he’d already been away too long for comfort. He just hoped his unintentional absence, however brief, did not lead to the GSG being overwhelmed and defeated.

If even one mob makes it to a healer because I wasn’t there to stop it…

Though he’d ultimately only been gone for slightly more than a minute, he was still very worried about Kalana and the others. After all, a whole lot could happen in a minute or two, and sixty seconds was more than enough time for one, more, or even all of them to die if they lost control of the situation. Even still, he tried to tamp down on his fear and remain focused on running straight, as it was difficult to keep his balance when blazing ahead at what had to be over a hundred-fifty miles per hour. In fact, “difficult” was putting it a bit too mildly. Zach actually had to seriously concentrate in order to keep himself upright and steady. Unfortunately, concentrating was becoming harder and harder to do thanks to the Gods-cursed media, which had for some reason ordered one of their helicopters to break away and follow him around.

Frowning, Zach tried to tune out the loud buzz coming from this single, lone helicopter that had flown away from the others in order to harass him. At the moment, it was serving as a constant, jarring reminder that the eyes of millions or more likely billions of people from every race and continent were currently set on him. Basically, the whole fucking planet! As the helicopter tailed his every step, it made it so that, rather than dedicate his thoughts to the problems at hand, he couldn’t help but devote some of his brainpower to worrying about his public image—something he’d never cared about once in his entire life until just now. Yet, try as he might, he couldn’t get it out of his head. It just added an entirely new dimension to things: one that laid on even more pressure that he really, really did not need right now.

I hate being watched like this.

Thankfully, as he spotted the dragon and the raid group just ahead of him, he was able to tune most of it out. Finally upon them, their numerous forms became rapidly larger the closer he approached, and immediately, all thoughts of the media, his image, or being observed slipped straight from his mind. He was once more totally honed in on the task at hand: protecting Kalana, helping his friends, and putting himself back into the fight. Hastily, he shifted his eyes slightly downward and had a quick glance at the remaining duration of Unleashed Phase.

Unleashed Phase Duration

8:30 Remaining

He’d burned up more time than he’d thought, though he’d lost a few minutes to begin with just in replenishing his stamina. He’d need to be careful with his abilities going forward. It wouldn’t be good if he ended up fainting from E-debt while avian-lizard-looking beasts with sharp teeth and even sharper claws surrounded him and tore him apart. And so, pressed to make every second count, he risked putting himself off-balance and ran just a little bit faster as he climbed up the final bit of hill and once more reached the highest point of elevation in this particular stretch of grasslands northwest of Shadowfall Coast.

Having run back as fast as he could, he found himself a bit short of breath and winded. He was by no means as exhausted as he’d been before he’d used Unleashed Phase, but he knew he’d need to be careful in how he paced himself, as his elevated stats would be useless to him if he lacked the energy to continue standing on his feet. Still, he was feeling pretty fired up, and a little sweat was not about to slow him down. Ready to kick things back off, Zach drew his black, glimmering blade, and he quickly assessed the situation. As it turned out, a whole lot had changed in the roughly minute and a half that he’d been gone: so much so that he needed a few seconds to register and comprehend all of it.

For starters, Ziragoth was now completely immobilized. The dragon was lying on its belly, and the serrated edges of its razor-sharp wings were lowered and making gradually deepening indentations along the ground, scraping it back and forth in tune to the rise and fall of what, at least to Zach, looked like real, natural breathing. Its eyes were closed, too, and its ludicrously long forked tongue was sticking out of its partially opened mouth, releasing a steady drip of saliva that caused a steam to rise from the soil in front of its face as though it were burning the ground. Most significantly of all, however, was that beginning at the top of its scaly, brown scalp, and continuing up into the air for nearly two-dozen feet, was a constant column of rising “Zzzz.” There were five of these “Zzzzs” in existence at any one time, with a new one popping into the air above the dragon’s head just as the highest one vanished, and on and on it would go. Amid all this, a constant drizzling rain from a purple cloud poured down on its unmoving body. It was a stunning, totally dreamlike sight.

He did it, Zach thought, amazed. He actually did it. He put the dragon to sleep!

Even while sleeping, the imposing form of Ziragoth put terror into his heart. Its sharp, evil teeth were bared, its barbed tail was twitching, and every so often, a small plume of flame would exhale out of its mouth. There was also a gargantuan amount of greenish-white blood staining the grass around the dragon, likely from Grundor. Regrettably, though, its HP was now also back to full, which meant all the damage that had been done to it was gone. Even the tooth that had been knocked out of the fire wyvern had regrown.

HP

15,000,000/15,000,000

Name

(T7) Ziragoth the Awoken

Level

70

Not so ‘awoken’ now, are you? Zach thought hatefully.

Sitting about two-dozen feet in front of the dragon, slouched over and panting, Zach made out the exhausted-looking form of his reliable vampire friend, Olivir. Kolona, too, was also seated next to him, and though her back was straight, she nevertheless appeared equally as drained. Together, the two of them looked like they needed a good rest. The same could not be said, however, of Grundor, who did not appear remotely fatigued; he and Eldora were currently engaged in a furious, energetic battle with three of the “Cursed Defender of Ziragoth” mobs that must have broken away from the rest.

And it was at this point that Zach realized two very important things: one, that Olivir had indeed truly succeeded in putting the dragon to sleep, and two: that this did not cause the mobs it had summoned to de-spawn. Glancing a bit lower down the hill from where Grundor and Eldora were fending off the clawing, biting creatures, Zach realized a third, far more concerning thing as well: that the mood among the adventurers was anything but celebratory. Even though they had accomplished what they’d set out to do, the sense that Zach got from his surroundings was not a positive one. Far from joy, there was a dark, foreboding, and grim look of worry in many of their faces. Something was clearly wrong.

That’s not a good sign, Zach thought, instinctively tightening his grip on his blade. What’s going on here?

At the moment, Donovan was swearing loudly and frequently. Sweat was teeming down his brow, off his chin, and then running over the bottom of his black plate helm as he withstood more and more attacks from two of the ferocious creatures, which were relentlessly lashing out at him even as he struck back at them with his massive battle-axe. His armor was cracked in numerous places, and the exposed skin beneath these cracks looked bruised and oddly discolored. Mr. Oren, also sweating profusely, wore a scowl as he struck one of the creatures from the side while eyeing Donovan as if nervous or uncertain.

“Are you okay, Donovan?”

“Just keep tearing into the pricks. Don’t worry about me.”

Mr. Oren nodded. “Just hang in there. We’ll pull through this…somehow.” With that, he continued delivering powerful slicing attacks against one of the two Cursed Defenders of Ziragoth that Donovan was tanking.

Neither he nor any of the other adventurers appeared to notice that Zach had returned, but that was not what troubled Zach, as it was understandable given that they were focusing all their attention on battling the dragon’s defenders. No, what bothered him was the way in which not a single one of them displayed anything close to optimism or hope—even as Mr. Oren succeeded in cutting down the creature before him, earning Zach +9500xp just for being in the raid group.

Despite having killed one of the mobs, Mr. Oren’s scowl became even deeper, and he was now carrying himself with a total lack of certainty. Zach had never seen him appear so unsteady and vexed. This, in turn, only made Zach’s own mood become sullen—even if he didn’t quite understand why just yet. From the way everyone was acting, something had to have gone very wrong. But what?

Right now, Zach could not detect even so much as a hint of confidence in Mr. Oren or in any of the adventurers, which was certainly conspicuous when contrasted with their usual boisterous and jovial personalities. Hell, just a minute and a half ago, when Zach had blasted himself back to the camp, they’d been so sure of themselves and their morale had been so high. So what had happened? What had gone wrong? Was it possible Zach was misreading the situation? As much as he hoped that was the case, his suspicions were all but confirmed mere seconds later as various members of the GSG began giving voice to their doubts.

“Should we try to break off and outrun them?” one of the adventurers asked. “Pull them back to the raid camp where we’ll have help?”

“No,” another replied, his voice shaken and his tone uneven. “These mobs move very fast, and a number of us don’t have high enough speed to outrun them. If we try to break off, it’s the same as leaving people for dead.”

They’re talking about running away, Zach thought, shocked. Are we losing? I don’t understand.

Given that almost thirty adventurers along with fourteen or so of the creatures were all mixed and cluttered together in seemingly no particular formation or order, it was harder than expected to try to piece together what was happening, as everything had devolved into an absolute, disorganized mess. A lot of people were doing a lot of different things all at the same time, and for Zach to figure out what he could do to help—or if he could do anything to help—he needed to first know just what in the fuck was going on here, since it wasn’t actually clear despite everyone else seemingly understanding it. Thus, as quickly as possible, Zach attempted to discover the underlying problem in the ardent hope he could help solve it.

His first priority being Kalana, he started by turning his attention to her. Within seconds, it became clear that he did not need to observe her for long, as it was instantly apparent that she was holding up just fine—better than fine, actually. Like, way better. In fact, of everyone here, Kalana looked to be doing the best. Not only wasn’t she struggling, but she actually seemed to be having a very, very easy time of things. Zach nodded with approval as, with an elegant twirl of her daggers, she landed the killing blow on another one of the mobs, slicing it across the throat and causing it to keel over, once again earning Zach an easy +9500xp that he hadn’t even had to work for.

“Got’cha,” she said. Then she turned her head in Zach’s direction and beamed a cheerful, silly smile. Thus far, she seemed to be the only person who noticed he’d returned, and after a blown kiss in the air directed his way, she took off charging into the chaotic mess of people and mobs to attack another of the creatures before the one she’d just killed had even hit the ground.

She’s definitely got her end of things under control, he thought.

Confident that his girlfriend was in no immediate danger, Zach took his eyes off her and looked elsewhere to see how the others were faring. And at a first glance alone, everything seemed to be going…well, just fine, actually. Zach didn’t see any obvious problems, which only heightened his confusion and worry. What wasn’t he seeing here? To his eyes, everyone was still doing their part and holding up pretty well. From what he could tell, no one was seriously injured, the dragon was fast asleep, and although the “adds”—as they’d been called—were still running amok, the tanks were doing an admirable job of holding aggro on eight of them while another five were being managed through a combination of fears, roots, stuns, and slows.

Just ahead and to Zach’s left, a mob named “Cursed Defender of Ziragoth B,” which had been scrambling away in random directions as though feared, had now come to a complete halt. After a brief pause, it turned back around, faced one of the adventurers, and began to charge directly at him. But it did not get very far. Before the fast-moving, bipedal creature could make it even a handful of steps, Alixa made a grunt of exertion, and the ground beneath its feet began to rumble and crack; from beneath the soil emerged a series of roots that shot out of the grassy terrain and began to wrap around its legs and body.

With a speed faster than a swinging whip, more and more of these roots continued to emerge, and these too wrapped themselves around the mob until they had completely bound it in place. At the same exact time, a series of snapping sounds like the splitting of twigs came from another mob, which looked as though it’d already been tied up with the same exact spell. This particular one, which was called “Cursed Defender of Ziragoth C,” managed to snap every root that’d been binding it all at once. Upon being broken, the split-apart roots simply vanished into thin air, leaving not a trace of them behind.

Now that the mob was free, it began to turn its body in Alixa’s direction, crying out with one of its angry chirps in the process. Maric glanced at the mob then half spun around as if to deal with it, but Alixa signaled for him to halt. “Don’t worry! I’ve got it!” she yelled preemptively.

Alixa, now breathing heavily, began flipping frantically through the pages of the large book she always seemed to be carrying with her. Then, for a reason Zach did not know, her sword-shaped earrings started to glow very brightly, and her pure-green eyes, which did not contain even a trace of white, began to similarly shine. A moment later, the tome in her hands lifted up a few inches into the air as though in defiance of gravity, and there it remained in place, floating before her. Now, the pages began to turn all on their own, slowly at first, but soon they flipped faster and faster until filling the world with an oddly comforting flapping sound.

What’s she doing? Zach wondered.

The mob, clearly having chosen a target, took off at a fast-moving sprint, heading straight for Alixa. Zach wasn’t sure if he should rush in to intercept the beast before it got to her. But since Alixa seemed confident that she had things under control, he remained where he was, deciding to wait just a moment longer. He watched as the Cursed Defender of Ziragoth made another of its chirp-like cries; this, as beads of sweat began to pour down Alixa’s pale face.

As Alixa visibly strained with what could only be exhaustion, a powerful gust of wind from seemingly out of nowhere began to blow, growing stronger by the second and offering a welcome respite to the intense summer heat. For a short while, this mysterious wind, which did not appear to be coming from any one particular direction, continued to increase in intensity; it stirred the grass, lifted a few small pebbles, and even caused a few sunflowers to shed their petals. But then, just as it seemed poised to turn from a breeze into a full-on gale, abruptly, the wind cut off all at once as though it had never existed at all. Confused, Zach wondered what the point of all that was. He doubted it had been just for the sake of cooling them off, so for what purpose had she summoned the wind only to have it vanish before it did anything useful?

He soon realized that it had not, in fact, vanished. As though concentrating itself on a much smaller area, the “breeze” that had been blowing had now shrunken down to form a rapidly spinning twister a few feet in front of Alixa with the diameter of a sewer cover and the height of a traffic light. Faster and faster it spun, growing in force and becoming more visible. Eventually, this miniature tornado started ripping up the ground beneath it, as a chunk of grass and dirt about four inches deep was sucked up like a vacuum then began revolving around this increasingly faster-spinning wind.

As though waiting for the perfect time to strike, Alixa remained perfectly still until the avian-faced, lizard-bodied creature had crossed more than half the distance to her. Then, she abruptly threw out both of her arms in a shoving gesture, and the tornado was launched forward. In the same moment, the pages in her book ceased flipping, and then it snapped shut with a loud, startling pop, even as it continued to float midair. Now, a zigzag-shaped depression formed into the terrain as the spiraling wind ripped across the land and made for the charging mob.

Only a few seconds passed before the two collided, and Zach gasped as he watched the Cursed Defender of Ziragoth come to an immediate, grinding halt the moment its body impacted the tornado. It was then lifted off the ground and sent about ten feet into the air, where it at last remained perfectly still as though imprisoned within the center of this vortex of energy. Though it did not spin, it floated in place much like Alixa’s book, which she then promptly snatched from the air and cradled under her arm.

“Got it,” she said, her voice sounding strained. “Forty seconds until it breaks free.”

“My buffs are wearing off, Alixa,” an adventurer groaned.

“Mine too,” said another.

A third, this one wielding a staff, swore at both of them. “Give her a fucking second!”

“I’ll be dead in a second!”

“Then die!” the staff-wielding man shouted, clearly irritated as he hurried to Alixa’s side.

The Cursed Defender of Ziragoth B, which Alixa had halted only a few seconds earlier, had somehow already snapped through the roots holding it in place and had resumed charging at its original target. Now, the man wielding the staff extended his arm and made circular motions with it in the emptiness in front of him. As he did so, a shining black orb began to form at the tip of his staff, which he promptly lifted above his head before slashing it back downwards at the air.

The black, shining orb flew off the staff and traveled directly at the incoming mob, striking it in the head. Yet it did not do any damage—at least not that Zach could see. Instead, it caused the lizard-like mob to immediately stop in place, turn around, and then begin to run in the opposite direction—which would make it a fear, Zach assumed. Unfortunately, the ferocious beast only took about two quick steps before it again stopped, turned around, and once more resumed charging at the adventurers.

“Fuck!” the man with the staff growled. “These Gods-be-damned diminishing returns are getting really hard to deal with.”

“Stun it!” Alixa shouted.

The man jammed his staff into the ground, the base of it penetrating several inches into the soil. Then, on the heels of a peculiar, but not entirely unpleasant buzzing sound that filled the air, Zach briefly had to avert his eyes as an intense white flash emerged from the staff, one bright enough to cause discomfort even during broad daylight. Whatever it was, it caused the mob to stop in its tracks for what was like the third time in a row now, and there it remained in place—for about maybe a quarter of a second, if that.

Shrugging off whatever that white light had done to it, the Cursed Defender of Ziragoth B resumed its forward charge. This prompted Alixa to again grunt with exertion and again cause more roots to burst upwards from a newly formed crack in the ground, wrapping around the mob and binding it in place. But this time, however, the roots snapped almost the exact moment in time that they’d wrapped around the enemy, and it was here that Zach thought he was finally starting to understand the dilemma.

They can’t keep these guys locked down indefinitely, he thought.

Turning his head to look once more at Donovan and Mr. Oren, he widened his eyes as he finally, truly understood the problem here. Based on what he’d just seen, he felt it was safe to conclude that each time crowd control was used on a mob, it became less effective and lasted for a shorter duration. Which would have been fine, except that the damage they were putting out—it just wasn’t enough. Even though they’d succeeded in killing a few of the mobs so far, and even taking into account Kalana’s explosive output, they were going to be overwhelmed at the rate they were going, because they just weren’t killing these things fast enough.

But wait. There was more to it than just that.

It was only now that Zach became cognizant of the fact that the GSG’s spellcasters had become almost entirely idle. Aside from Fluffles, who was currently his normal cat size and sending down one bolt of lightning after the next, striking for somewhere around 2,500 damage each time, the other mages—or at least people who Zach guessed were mages based on their usage of staves or rods—were mostly inactive for some reason. But why? They didn’t look exhausted at all. Aside from firing off tiny little projectiles that did only a few-hundred damage per shot, the spellcasters were basically sitting this one out. But they did not appear lazy to Zach’s eyes. If anything, they looked frustrated, as though they wanted to fight. So why, then, were they just sitting around and doing n—

Because the dragon’s asleep! he realized, everything finally clicking in his head. They can’t risk doing anything that might accidentally hit Ziragoth and wake him up. So that’s what’s going on here!

As if to confirm his theory, one of the mages, a guy who looked to be in his young twenties and had a brown, neatly trimmed beard, spat on the ground in what looked like frustration then made a chopping motion with his right hand. A second later, an icicle about three times the length of a spear popped into existence about thirty feet in the air and crashed down at blinding speed on top of one of the mobs, dealing 9,311 damage and exploding upon impact, hitting the two adjacent mobs for over 2,000 each.

“Knock it off, Reys!” Donovan shouted at him, snarling. “Single, targeted, homing attacks only!”

The man, Reys, opened his mouth as though to argue the point. But with nothing more than a grumble, he ended up closing it and reverted to instead firing off small little ice daggers that seemed to lock onto his target like a missile. Zach guessed it was an attack that could not miss and could not inadvertently hit something other than what he targeted. Unfortunately, it did only 820 damage, which was not very useful.

Finally understanding why everyone was acting as though the end was nigh, Zach joined them in the hopelessness club, as he realized that they were, in all likelihood, fucked. For all intents and purposes, they were fighting a battle of attrition and slowly losing. What they really needed most of all was more damage—and a lot more of it, too. And clearly, Zach could not give that to them. There were no two ways about it: he simply did not have the strength at his current level to help account for even a small part of the deficit caused by the lack of spellcasters, whose powerful magical projectiles could potentially go wayward and wake the dragon. But, at the very least, Zach now knew exactly how he could contribute—even if it would ultimately come to nothing.

No matter what, though, Zach would fight as hard as he could and do everything in his power to help the GSG. But, if things took a turn for the worst, and if it looked like every single one of them was going to die, he’d Phase Rescue Kalana away and hightail it out of there with her. Would it be the most courageous thing ever done in history? No, probably not. But he couldn’t allow Kalana to die here, and dying just for the sake of it wasn’t noble. He’d done that already once before and didn’t plan on doing it ever again.

Nevertheless, Zach tried to remain positive and focus on what he could do instead of what he couldn’t. And right now, what he could do was take on the mobs that Alixa and her staff-wielding guildmate were not able to lock down anymore, such as this “Cursed Defender of Ziragoth B.” The mob chirped as it charged after the staff-wielding man, whose stun and fear had both failed to deter it.

I’ll get him!

Given that the mob was at full health, Zach had no problem siphoning, or “peeling” aggro off the staff-wielding man as he launched himself forward, twisted his body slightly, and unleashed a horizontal slash that cut into the chirping creature’s midsection for a pathetic, embarrassingly low 729 damage while simultaneously letting the others know he’d returned. They barely looked at him, clearly too busy to pay heed right now to anything other than their own survival. But that was fine. Zach only needed to get the attention of a single one of them.

“Hey, Alixa!” Zach shouted, even as he was forced to drop all the way down to his knees to duck beneath a wide, vicious, and downwards-angled claw-strike. He waited for her to look at him before speaking. “Tell me which ones your crowd control won’t work on anymore. I’ll deal with those.”

She regarded him blankly for a very brief moment as though churning his words over in her head. Then she nodded. “Uh, okay, so there’s that one,” she said, pointing to the one he was already fighting, “and also D and F, but leave F alone for a bit longer.”

“Got it.”

Those few, hurriedly exchanged words served as the entirety of their communication. Having so much on her plate, Alixa went back to whatever it was she had to do, and Zach quickly searched out “Cursed Defender of Ziragoth D” even as he was lunging to the side to avoid the deadly teeth from the horrific, dragon-summoned monster that was already in front of him. Due to the thing getting in his face, it actually took Zach a good couple of seconds to find it, and when he did, it was almost too late. The two-legged, sharp-clawed fiend was running at incredible speed towards the same old healer he’d saved a few minutes prior.

Once again ducking underneath a swipe that would’ve ripped his throat out, Zach managed to slither away to the creature’s right side just long enough to give him a clear shot at the “Cursed Defender of Ziragoth D,” who from the looks of things, was actually going to disembowel the older woman without her even seeing it coming.

“Phase Slash!” he cried out, slashing downwards with his sword.

A screeching, high-pitched, zipper-like sound accompanied a visible disturbance in the air that blasted forward at a speed far, far faster than the mob could run. Within a half second of using his Phase Slash, Zach’s attack connected, and though it did not put out the kind of damage he’d have liked to see, it at least did 5,215 and caused a moderately sized piece of skin on the lower-right side of its chin to fall off, along with shedding a couple droplets of blood. Now, pausing several feet in front of the older healer woman, who still had no idea whatsoever that it was even behind her, the awful thing turned its head in Zach’s direction, and it remained motionless for just a second. Then it chirped angrily and took off at a run, heading straight for him.

And it was at this point, having now successfully aggroed both mobs at once, that Zach would learn that he’d been so totally wrong about his capabilities, and that Donovan, it seemed, had been absolutely correct. Zach, as it turned out, could not have handled six of these things by himself, and right away, it became an open question as to whether or not he could even handle just two of them. Because despite the fact that their attacks were so predictable and easily foreseen, Zach had not really accounted for their overall ferocity and speed. On their own, they were simple and not much of a threat—at least not to him—but two of them together? He understood almost instantly that he’d bitten off more than he could reasonably chew.

Unlike the Blood-Hunting Maneaters that were slow and lumbering, these “Cursed Defenders of Ziragoth” were ruthless, fast, and together began pressing him so fiercely he really wasn’t positive he could survive this. From the very first moment the two mobs gunned him down, each of them side by side, he was forced to use every ounce of his speed, dexterity, and ability to anticipate their strikes just to scrape by.

The problem boiled down to a four-strike combination that each mob made great use of. In hindsight, Zach was surprised he didn’t realize when fighting just one of them that their pattern of attack might be extremely fierce when doubled up. Essentially, these mobs had a tendency to swipe powerfully and widely with their left claws, followed by a shorter-ranged, but even faster strike with their right, which led into yet another swipe of their left, before finally lunging forward and biting. The sequence itself wasn’t anything special, but the speed at which they attacked was. And whether it was simply due to bad luck or some other factor, Zach had managed to aggro them such that they were attacking in a way that was staggered as opposed to synchronous, which meant there was almost no delay or “pause” between the two of them. The moment B’s attacks ended, F’s attacks began, and vice-versa.

Shit, this is so much harder than I thought it’d be!

Faced with such a fast and unceasing barrage, Zach had to call upon everything he’d learned, experienced, and all the strength within him as a frenzy of attacks from the two Defenders of Ziragoth pushed him to his absolute limits. He had to bend his knees slightly, lean backwards and to his left, and tuck in his chin just to barely avoid having his entire face scraped off from the Cursed Defender of Ziragoth B, whose left-clawed swipe had a large reach and came within inches of connecting. But no sooner had he avoided the attack than he needed to lean to the complete opposite side to avoid the follow-up. The third strike in the series came in so fast he didn’t even have time to avoid on his feet, so instead he was forced to duck so low that he was almost in a seated position, and from there, he had to kick off his feet and roll backwards to avoid the bite, which instead of consuming his head, earned the mob only a mouthful of dirt and grass as it bit an entire fucking hole in the ground.

Panting, Zach almost didn’t manage to get back up to his feet as Cursed Defender of Ziragoth D lashed out at him in a similar, but slightly different pattern of attack. Now, Zach was forced twist his entire body to the right, throw himself to the left, duck down, and then jump backwards to navigate around another four-strike combination—only for B to come pressing forward, forcing him to repeat the process.

It was just a constant, never-ending, relentless assault of swinging claws and snapping teeth. None of their strikes were avoided with any breathing room. Every single one of them came close to ending his life, and every single one of them took its toll on his stamina. Zach had to suppress his doubt and keep his mind blank as he was left with practically no margin for error, no opportunity for counter attacks, and no chance to catch his breath. If not for the fact that he couldn’t guard with his sword, this wouldn’t have been so terrible—maybe even somewhat manageable. But he was too low level, and they were too damn strong, and they didn’t let up, not even for a moment. And as he was pressed again, and again, and again, it was only a matter of time before he messed up—which after evading dozens of their attacks, he finally did.

Tripping over a rock he didn’t even see, he fell hard onto his back, losing his grip on his sword in the process. Then, both of the creatures, as if sensing their moment had come, hurried forward and swarmed him, their mouths opened widely and their sharp teeth waiting to rip him into pieces, snapping at him hungrily. But if they wanted to have Zach for dinner, they’d have to wait a little longer. He wasn’t ready to call it quits just yet! Gritting his teeth and bracing himself, Zach activated Phase Shield.

Abruptly, the already bright day became even brighter as a brilliant, golden, and beautiful shield sprang into existence in front of and above him, even as he was lying with his back on the dirt. Rather than connect with his flesh, the Defenders of Ziragoth bit into the impenetrable object and were repelled. Yet this didn’t appear to deter them. They continued to try their luck, attacking so fast that each one managed to bite at the shield four or five times in just the 1.2 seconds that the shield remained in existence.

The moment it vanished, Zach grabbed his blade, back-rolled into a crouch, then jumped up to his feet—all while waiting for the inevitable pain that would come as a result of the small portion of the damage that would be returned to him. He never knew what to expect. Against Moldark, Anelia, and an Elvish scout, it had been minor. Against Ziragoth, it had been his eye and his arm. And now, against Ziragoth’s minions, it was a combination of a headache, a spurt of blood from his nose, more blood that leaked out of both sides of his mouth, a terrible pain in one of his ribs, and the feeling like Spider had just beaten the shit out of him in Angelica’s all over again.

Even still, it was nothing compared to what their daddy had done. Gods-cursed dragon! Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he risked a quick glance down and saw a bright, but thin red stain on his tunic. Was that all? He chuckled. After everything he’d been through, this really was just a joke to him.

I’m okay, he told himself. I’m still okay. I’ve got this. Deep breath, Zach. Deep breath.

Having only just returned to his feet, he was unsurprised to see that B and D were both already advancing towards him, as mobs did not understand the concept of a “timeout.” With a groan, Zach was reluctantly forced to admit to himself that he was in way, way too much pain to continue dancing with them until it subsided a bit further. For the moment, he desperately needed to reset. He needed at least a few Gods-be-damned seconds to just…to pull himself together. His rib was sending the weirdest pain signal he’d ever felt. It was like a ripping feeling combined with a muscle ache, and it hurt more when he stood in some positions than others. His nose was also stinging, and his head was pounding.

I need a few seconds, Gods dammit!

With 66 points into constitution, if he could take himself out of combat for just a short while, he would begin to heal on his own via passive HP regeneration—at least according to what Fylwen had told him. The woman might’ve been a liar, but he doubted she’d been lying about that. As long as his damage wasn’t overly severe, he would heal a tiny bit every five seconds even without the help of a healer. And he doubted his current aches counted as “severe.”

All right. I know what to do.

A mere instant before the two drooling, vicious mobs slammed their jaws shut and ate him alive, Zach activated Phase Blink: twice for good measure. A moment before activation, the entirety of his vision was filled with the dark insides of two opened mouths right next to one another, along with four rows of hideously sharp teeth. Then, the world simply changed around him, and they were gone. Now, he spun around quickly, and he saw both of them, a fair bit of distance away much farther up the hill along with the other adventurers.

Despite having essentially vanished, they knew exactly where he was in a way that was typical of mobs. Almost robotically, they spun around to face him. Then they began rushing forward in his direction just as a one-two chorus of sonic booms filled the world, and this time, Zach did make a few of the adventurers jump.

I wonder how much time all of that just cost me, Zach thought, becoming anxious. He stole a peek at his remaining duration of Unleashed Phase, and he was really not pleased by what he saw.

Unleashed Phase Duration

4:55 Remaining

Zach swore. Between his use of Phase Shield, Phase Slash, and his double Phase Blink, he had burned up way too much time. At this point, he was practically hemorrhaging it. Yet he had to use just a little bit more, as there was this intense ringing in his ear, and he could tell he wasn’t ready to continue the fight yet. It’d be in his best interest to again Phase Blink, only this time, he could use three of them, and then he’d recuperate with the distance he’d gained, which would enable him to—what the fuck?

Tell me she isn’t…

“Don’t even think about it!” Zach shouted angrily. “I don’t need you to rescue me.”

“I’m gonna!” Kalana shouted, dropping whatever it was she’d been doing to rush over to him. Zach watched as she zipped along down the hill at the speed expected of an Elvish warrior. Yet, now that he was in Phase Level 2, he could actually see it. It was fast, but he could clearly trace the motion with his eyes as she navigated her way down the hill and reached him in less than half a second.

“Kal, don’t baby me,” he said to her. She was now standing by his side, and she’d placed an arm on his shoulder.

“I’m not,” she said. “I’m just helping.”

He sighed. “I don’t need help. Believe it or not, this is like my six-hundredth life-or-death fight this week. I’m so used to this exact situation right now that I’m honestly not even scared anymore. Actually, I’m not scared at all. I’m…I’m not scared at all,” he finished in a confused, disoriented whisper.

As Zach spoke those words, he was actually surprised by just how true they were. He really wasn’t scared. Like, at all. He’d just been in this situation too many times now. Then again, there’d been times before when he’d thought he’d purged himself of fear only for something worse to come along and rattle him, so it was totally possible he just hadn’t yet gotten to the point of breaking down. But really, even having come so close to death just now, he…he didn’t feel it. He was detached from it in a way. Was there a part of him that didn’t care if he died? Something deep within him? Well, he should care, because if he died, how would he tell everyone about the—

—

—

—

WORLD EATER! REMEMBER, ZACH!

WORLD EATER! REMEMBER, ZACH!

WORLD EATER! REMEMBER, ZACH!

WORLD EATER! REMEMBER, ZACH!

WORLD EATER! REMEMBER, ZACH!

WORLD EATER! REMEMBER, ZACH!

—

—

…mom?

—

WORLD EATER! REMEMBER, ZACH!

WORLD EATER! REMEMBER, ZACH!

DRAGON SQUIRE!

DRAGON SQUIRE!

—

—

The…what?

Zach shook his head to clear the confusion that had settled over him. What had he been…? Oh, right! While he might feel sort of detached right now when it came to a fear of dying, what he was not detached from was the feeling of shame that it would bring him if Kalana acted like his personal babysitter. For this reason, as she pulled him close to her, gave him a big kiss on the side of his cheek, and then took off at a run in the direction of one of the two mobs heading towards him, he clenched his teeth so hard that he was amazed he didn’t break one.

“Kal, stop!” he seethed at her.

“Nope!”

Feeling worthless, he watched as she used some ridiculously awesome ability that he couldn’t believe was real to turn her entire body into a flaming missile that shot forward at a speed almost as fast as Phase Blink. His mouth agape, Zach stared dumbfounded as she literally burned through Cursed Defender of Ziragoth D for 19,211 damage, pulling aggro off Zach and reappearing from within the flames behind the mob.

“Sorry,” she said, her voice becoming cute in a way that made it so, so hard to be mad at her. She knew exactly what she was doing, though. Why did it work so well? Zach made a “hmph” sound as she blew him another kiss then ran away with the mob—his mob—chasing her.

She’s having fun right now, Zach thought. No wonder Angelica said her spirit was right for the buff. She’s actually enjoying herself.

Kalana, it seemed, was so far ahead of the other adventurers here that this was almost like a game to her. She wasn’t worried about dying at all, was she? Unless he was mistaken, it actually seemed like the only fear Kalana seemed to have was the fear that something might happen to Zach, which incidentally was his own fear in reverse.

“I…I could’ve handled them both,” Zach grunted, not caring if that was bullshit or not. More loudly, he shouted, “Kal, bring it back here right now. Give me my mob back, or I swear to all the Gods, I’m going to let this one kill me out of spite!”

“Nah-uh!” she called back to him as she continued leading it away. Zach, as exhausted as he was, chased after her back up the hill with his own mob following in tow. Now, the two of them rejoined the others, their mobs trailing behind each of them. Gods, they must have looked like such absolute morons to the rest of the world right now, playing a game of fucking Ziragoth tag right in the middle of a life-or-death battle. And Zach didn’t even care, either.

“Kal, give me my mob back.”

“Nope.”

“Kal, I’m not joking around. I said give me my—”

“Are you two seriously fighting over that?” rasped Mr. Oren, whose face was so drenched with sweat and even some blood that that Zach almost didn’t recognize him at first. He looked like he was having trouble staying on his feet. It was a sobering reminder that things were really bad right now, and that what Zach had just done was childish and stupid. But there was more to it, too. Mr. Oren was…Zach did not recognize him the way he was right now.

It was as though all the fight had left him. His back was slightly hunched over, his hand was barely gripping his weapon, and he was striking for less than 500 damage. Even more unsettling, he appeared to be crying: to the extent that his entire face was completely soaked with tears. It sent a sense of wrongness rippling down Zach’s spine. He never imagined he could have seen his stoic science teacher looking this way. It was more emotion than the man had ever before displayed. Strangely, both Maric and Alixa now also wore a similar expression.

Zach immediately filled with alarm and a sense of confusion. Why was he crying? What was going on? Looking around, he could see that the GSG was no longer putting in much effort either, and their demoralization was such that they were hardly even bothering to defend themselves. It was as though they’d all decided in unison to just “give up” and stop trying. But why? That wasn’t the kind of people they were. What the hell had just happened? Once again, Zach was gone for like half a minute, and now the battle was just about over—in the enemy’s favor.

“Zach, listen to me,” Mr. Oren said, his voice coming out as almost a whimper. This was not the Mr. Oren he knew. It was disturbing to hear him this way. The sound of pain as he spoke was like nothing he could have ever imagined from the man.

“What is it, Alex?” Kalana asked.

“I want you and Zach to take Fluffles and your friends from Archian Prime out of here and back to the raid camp. Go now.”

Zach narrowed his eyes. “You’re coming with us.”

“No,” he said. “I’m afraid I can’t come with you, Zach, my man.”

“Alex,” Kalana whispered, “you gotta. We wouldn’t leave here without you.”

He sighed. “I’m going to die here with the rest of my guild. We can’t beat these adds, but we delayed the dragon so that we still stand a chance.” He reached into his lab coat and pulled out the document that Zach had given to him. “Take it.”

Zach firmly shook his head. He didn’t know why. Despite the fact that he’d already planned to ditch Mr. Oren and the others if things came down to their worst outcome, it was only now, as the situation deteriorated even further, that he realized he couldn’t actually bring himself to do it. He couldn’t leave Mr. Oren here any more than he could leave Kalana.

“Don’t give up yet. Please.”

Mr. Oren laughed. “It’s already over. Donovan and Zephyr are dead. Everyone in the GSG here wants to die with them.”

For the briefest of moments, Zach felt a shooting pain race through his heart as he looked around frantically, refusing to believe what he was hearing. But now, as he scanned the area more carefully, he could just see the man, whose body was partially obscured by two burly adventurers. A jolt went through him as he saw that Donovan was lying there on his belly, face down into the ground, and now a rush of his own emotions threatened to surface. But then, a mere instant later, he rolled his eyes and released them as a chuckle, which seemed to confuse the hell out of Mr. Oren. This only made him laugh harder.

“When did it happen?” Zach asked. His reaction seemed to be really throwing Mr. Oren off; it was as though his science teacher could not believe Zach’s lack of compassion.

“A few moments ago, but—”

“When specifically?” Zach asked, dropping down to avoid the chomping teeth of the Cursed Defender of Ziragoth B that had just caught up to him. Kalana, too, reengaged hers—or rather, the one she’d stolen from him. “When?” Zach asked again.

“About a minute ago.”

Zach sighed with relief. “Is that why everyone looks like they’re about to give up?”

“Zach, what’re you—?”

He held up his hand. “Relax, Mr. Oren. He’ll be fine.”

“Fine?” Mr. Oren looked at him as though he were mad, but Zach ignored it.

Raising his voice, he shouted, “Olivir! Hey!” When no reply came, he craned his neck to look at the top of this hill, where Olivir and Kolona were back on their feet, still clearly exhausted, and they both appeared to be doing whatever little they could to assist Grundor and Eldora, who were still fighting two of the Cursed Defenders of Ziragoth, having downed one of their three.

“Olivir!” Zach called again to no reply. In total, he had to shout three more times to draw his friend’s attention.

“Uhm, yeah? Are you okay, Zach? Sorry, I’m a bit out of it and focusing on my fight up here.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Do you need me?”

Zach gestured with his chin. “Donovan and Zephyr died.”

“Oh, no kidding? I can’t see from here. They’re not decapitated, right?”

Zach jumped backwards, side-stepped, and then quickly twisted his hips to avoid three, successive claw attacks, each faster than the last. Then he took a moment to examine both of the corpses. “No, their heads are fine. Donovan looks like he got pierced through the ah…shit, I’m not a doctor. Lungs? Heart? I don’t know. And Zephyr’s throat was ripped off.”

Olivir raised his fist and then gave a thumbs-up. “Okay, no problem. I can come down there and bring them back. They probably won’t wake up for ten hours, though.”

At this, every head turned to face the vampire; the adventurers, who had all but given up, seemed to become just a little bit more alive as Olivir scurried down the hill over to Donovan, then dropped into a crouch by his side. “I need to be quick. Grundor needs me,” he said.

“Is this really possible?” Alixa asked disbelievingly, a growing hope in her voice. She pursed her lips a moment. “I don’t want to have false hope. I don’t want to believe that—”

“Owe, fuck,” Donvan grumbled. “Who’s biting me?”

“Wow, another fast-waker,” Olivir said with a laugh, his mouth and lips covered in blood. He quickly moved over to Zephyr, then plunged his fangs into the charismatic guild-leader. A few moments later, he too began to moan and stir.

This, as the members of the GSG watched on in utter disbelief and amazement, as though they simply could not bring themselves to believe that a miracle on this level was possible in what was typically a very cruel world. Even Zach, who had been brought back himself, found it hard to believe. But if there was any doubt at all, it was soon dispelled as Donovan rose straight to his feet, growled, swung his axe at the face of one of the mobs hard enough to knock out four teeth and deal 22,000 damage, then immediately collapsed back onto his ass as if out of sheer exhaustion while the others continued to gaze upon him as though too stricken with some kind of emotional paralysis to speak.

“What in the fuck kind of formation is this?” he growled, trying but failing to stand. “I had to come back to life just to die again of humiliation if this is the kind of shit you all pull if I drop. Get back in the fight!”

And with that, the adventurers all released a simultaneous cheer with a renewed spirit. This, as Zach nodded his thanks to Olivir, who ran his way back up the hill, but not before pausing and saying, “Oh, don’t die a second time. I can’t do it twice.”

The energy and enthusiasm among the GSG ramped up from a zero to a ten in a single instant as Zephyr began to snore and Donovan continued to try returning to his feet while angrily belittling everyone else. For just a brief moment, a sense of hope came upon all of the adventurers: one that Zach could actually feel. But it was spoiled somewhat by reality, for he knew damn well their core situation hadn’t really changed. Much like before, they were still barely capable of holding everything at bay, only now that they were down a tank, Mr. Oren had to step in for Donovan. If not for that ability on his lab coat and quick reflexes, he would not have lasted ten seconds. As things were, they were pouring heals into him so fast it was only a matter of time before one of the healers drew aggro.

Between being belittled by Kalana, finding himself once again useless and inept, and having given these people hope when he knew it was likely they’d have to watch their leader die a second time, Zach was really starting to lose his patience. His temper was flaring, his muscles were tightening, and a rush of anger, stress, and just downright, general crankiness was starting to work its way into his system.

That was why, even at the risk of his own death, he decided he wanted to start hitting this fucking dragon-spawned bastard back. Even if he could only scratch the thing, he was done hopping around it without offering any kind of retribution. Yes, he was exhausted, and yes, he knew it would only further exhaust him while doing barely any damage in the process. But even still, he needed to vent some of his frustration on this bipedal, freakish, lizard-avian-hybrid thing or so help him dear Gods above, he was going to lose it.

Needing to rid himself of some of this rage, he waited for his moment to strike, and he found it rather quickly. Upon pivoting his way out of a wide swing from the mob’s left claws, Zach swung his sword with every last drop of his might despite knowing how wasteful it was of his already depleted stamina. And yet, sadly, for all his effort, he only managed to inflict 2,100 damage.

But then something strange happened.

The moment his sword made contact with the Cursed Defender of Ziragoth, he lifted his chin, opened his mouth wide, and he inhaled a deep, refreshing, rapturous breath of fresh air as, seemingly out of nowhere, his energy returned to him in a flood. At the same time, for about half a second, a dark green aura appeared in an outline around his body from head to toe before very quickly losing its form and rising up into the air as a quickly dissipating mist.

What was that? Zach wondered, suddenly feeling renewed and refreshed.

He felt amazing all of a sudden. It was like he’d just had an energy drink injected directly into his soul, or like he’d just rested ten hours in a parallel dimension where only one second had passed in this one. Bobbing and weaving his way around another four-strike combination, Zach whacked the mob in the head once again, this time for only 1,201. Then, for the second time in a row, the dark green aura returned, covering his entire body before quickly vanishing, refreshing him even further. Now, he felt similar to how he did right after using Unleashed Phase. He was fully charged up: at his maximum.

Even as he was busy dodging several retaliatory attacks from the Cursed Defender of Ziragoth, he took a moment to look around and see which member of the GSG was casting this on him. When he realized it wasn’t any of them, he finally remembered the abilities on his sword. Of course! It said something about an 8.5% chance to restore 25% of his stamina. At the time, he’d been so amazed by the sword itself that he hadn’t really appreciated just how incredible of an ability this was.

Feeling agile and full of energy, rather than wait for the mob to attack him, he decided to lash out at the mob first. He entered into a wild frenzy of swings, no longer concerned about his stamina. He had almost a one in ten chance of activating this ability, right? Well, even ten of his most aggressive strikes were still worth tremendously less stamina than the amount of it he’d regain if the ability triggered. And so, even as he struck for pitiful amounts of damage, he nevertheless crashed his sword into the beast again and again, pausing only to duck or take an evasive step back. Eventually, after about twelve hits, the ability activated a third time, though he was still so close to full energy he barely felt it. Yet something did catch his attention in the very, very corner of his vision. It was a flickering of sorts—from one of the displays he had conjured forth.

Lowering his eyes, he soon widened them in shock as he saw the time remaining on his current duration of Unleashed Phase.

Unleashed Phase Duration

8:45 Remaining

“No fucking way!” Zach shouted excitedly, completely ignoring the confused stares he was receiving from the GSG members who were struggling to stay alive and had absolutely no idea what he was on about. Zach blinked a few times just to make absolutely sure what he was seeing was correct. Having using his sword’s ability with full stamina, it appeared to have added time to his current duration of Unleashed Phase.

This is fucking incredible. This is…this is unbelievable! Biggest game-changer ever!

The sheer list of possibilities this would provide him were so numerous that he doubted he could imagine a fraction of them. Now, almost as though he’d traded places with the Cursed Defender of Ziragoth, it was Zach’s turn to enter into a relentless barrage. Becoming far more reckless than he should and nearly losing his head a few times in the process, he began slashing wildly at the mob, not even caring that he barely did enough damage to scratch the thing, let alone draw its blood.

HP

277,076/300,000

Name

Cursed Defender of Ziragoth B

Level

90

Again and again and again he hit it, losing track of just how many times he whaled on its stupid face. At one point, he did become too greedy and had to throw himself off to the side as the mob lunged forward so fast that he was nearly caught. But all he did was shoot right back up to his feet and continue his assault. Eventually, he was able to trigger the ability a fourth time.

In a stark reversal from such a short while ago, when Zach had been feeling bitter and the other adventurers’ morale had been high, Zach was now the one with high morale and the enthusiasm of the adventurers had once more plummeted. It was similar to the way things had been prior to Donovan’s revival: their mood had yet again turned dark and dejected; a sense of hopelessness and despair was beginning to slowly make its return.

For this reason, Zach did feel slightly guilty as, amid their grunts and groans, he began to cheer loudly and wildly. He shut his mouth very quickly after seeing their frustrated, angered glares sent his way, but even still, he couldn’t blame himself for becoming so giddy. This was because, for a terrifying bit, he’d worried that his sword had broken, as he’d delivered a great number of attacks without his ability’s appearance. But then, following dual upwards slashes into his enemy’s face, the dark green aura returned to him twice in a row—then a third time after another four successful slashes. With the glee of a child getting a new toy, he glanced down to see how much time he had left on Unleashed Phase.

Unleashed Phase Duration

20:45 Remaining

Zach knew he was annoying the other adventurers at this point, because the situation really was, once again, beginning to deteriorate rapidly. Yet, there he stood, amid a sea of gloom and impending death, the lone voice who shouted out, “Oh, hell yeah! This is great!”

The weary, exhausted-looking members of the GSG, who were barely hanging on by a thread, continued to shoot him glances that alternated between annoyed and confused. They just didn’t get it. They didn’t have any idea how significant this was. Zach wondered: was there an upper-limit to how high he could get this number? Could he, at least in theory, have an Unleashed Phase that lasted for literally days? He needed to know. He needed to find out!

And thus, as the avian-lizard hybrid tried to scratch his eyeballs out, Zach bent backwards, then retaliated with a slash across its throat, dealing 910. Then he circled around to its back as it launched a futile bite that stood no chance of connecting. He sliced along with his circling movement, cutting the creature along its midsection for 1,115. Then he delivered three quick strikes for around 1000 damage each, desperate to see that beautiful dark green aura, knowing it was only a matter of time.

The mob, not willing to stand by and oblige, made a grunt-like chirp and lunged at him, but Zach hopped off to the side. Then he raised his arms high and brought his blade down on top of its scalp for 1,127. It retaliated with its left claws, and he took a quick step backwards. Then he rushed forward again to meet it, and now, he unleashed three slashes one after the next, knowing one of them just had to give him that sexy green aura.

The first slash hit for 995: but no aura.

The second slash hit for 1,027: but still no aura.

And the third slash caused a gigantic pillar of fire to simply explode into existence: one with a flame that was such a dark shade of blue that it bordered on black. Totally unprepared for anything like this to happen, Zach yelped and dashed backwards as the Cursed Defender of Ziragoth was engulfed so thoroughly from head to toe that there was no part of the mob that could still be seen; with a scary, audible whoosh, there was now just a dark pillar of majestically colored flame: an inferno that covered the entirety of the two-legged, clawed beast like a custom-tailored, form-fitting blanket made out of pure fire. And it struck, somehow, for 277,581.

+9500xp

Speechless, Zach could only stand there like an idiot with his sword still held in front of him defensively as the fire vanished into nothingness. When it did, the mob was not left behind in its wake; wherever the fire had gone, the Cursed Defender of Ziragoth had gone with it, too. Swallowing nervously, Zach asked, “Did anyone else just see that?”

The way in which the GSG, including a limping Donovan was gawking at him, he could tell that they indeed had. “Kid,” one of them said, “I’ll make it 20 mil for that sword. Double my previous offer.”

Zach grinned. “Not for sale, sorry.”

He chuckled. “Not surprised. Well, I guess I wouldn’t have any use for it in the grave anyway.”

Then, in what was the most amusing, yet bizarre mismatch of situation and tone that Zach had ever witnessed, nearly three-dozen voices all unenthusiastically, exhaustedly, and gloomily shouted out the word “grats” to Mr. Oren before promptly returning their attention to the mobs they were fighting.

Looking over to where his former science teacher was busy deflecting claw-slashes away from his weary, recently resurrected guild-leader, Zach could now see that the man had indeed leveled-up. And despite his best efforts to the contrary, he could not help but flare up with envy and a level of self-loathing that ruined his mood by what he saw. All at once, he was reminded of how much he could not measure up or compare to other adventurers. There were simply no two ways about it. What he saw was definitive proof that something was wrong with him. No matter what Olivir said. This much was beyond doubt, as floating in the air before Mr. Oren, Zach finally got to see what a proper level-up was supposed to look like.

Level Up!

+6 str (149)

+4 con (125)

+3 dex (143)

+2 spd (101)

It was unbelievable. Look at all those points! How the fuck was it that Zach’s best level ups were the ones where he got, like, maybe three points maximum? How, when other adventurers would get fifteen or more like it was nothing? How was he supposed to keep up at this rate? He might have been level 17, but stats-wise, he was probably like level 6 or something. It was just so frustrating. Zach would kill just to get one level up like that just one time in his entire damn life. Of course, in fairness, most people would kill just to get a single point into any stat at ever, since only a fraction of a percent of people would ever know what it was like to have anything other than a 1 in every single stat. So, on that level, Zach realized he should be grateful. He just hated how far behind everyone he was falling.

Trying his best not to think about his stats, Zach darted his eyes around for another mob to kill. And as he searched for something to attack, it was only now, while he was completely free from having to defend himself, that he was able to really take a good, serious look at the state the other adventurers were in. Having had to put so much of his attention and focus on the Cursed Defender of Ziragoth B, he hadn’t really been able to appreciate just how terrible everyone else was doing. He’d known they were having a rough time, but he didn’t think it was this bad. Regardless…he was sure they’d be fine, right? They were the GSG: the best of the best. They would pull through this somehow.

No, they won’t, he thought. Everyone is about to die, and I’m in such a state of denial I can’t even accept it.

With nothing in front of him trying to rip his head off, the thought caused Zach’s mood to transition so fast that he wasn’t prepared for the sickening, awful sensation of dread that entered into the pit of his stomach. It was true, wasn’t it? He was in denial. Here he was, behaving like he always did, getting upset over stats, cheering on cool abilities, and acting like these weren’t the last moments he would ever get to see Mr. Oren and the members of the GSG alive.

What if…what if they line every mob up for me and I just use a hundred wave slashes or something?

He wasn’t prepared to accept what his eyes were telling him was true: what even someone as inexperienced as him knew deep down was going to be the natural conclusion here if things continued on as they were. Maric, for example, who was the best tank that they had, was now bleeding from a head wound and looked like he was struggling just to keep his shield raised. And Alixa, who had been expertly locking down mobs, was now bent over on her hands and knees, panting for breath while her book was lying face down on the grass beside her.

He didn’t want to accept what was plainly taking place all around him. Everywhere he looked, it was the same story. Anyone not named “Kalana” was getting obliterated. The fact no one else had died yet was nothing short of a miracle. But it was only a matter of time. Was there anything—anything—he could do? What about his new sword? Maybe he could kill them with that? It could damn-near one hit these level-90 creatures.

But that’ll take too long. They’ll all be dead before then…

Zach cursed aloud as he tried to think of something he could do to steer things in a different direction. He needed to think up some kind of plan, because right now, as things stood, it was looking like Zach’s only chance to save his friends revolved around him getting super lucky and hitting the sword jackpot for more dark-blue flames. Though technically possible, the odds of that saving any of them were slim to none, as there were still twelve of these sons of bitches left, not including the two that Grundor and Eldora were still dealing with, and the chance of that ability activating per hit was only 0.5%.

Does my luck stat influence that? he wondered.

It may very well have. Zach didn’t know. But even if it did, it still likely would not be enough damage output. What he needed was a consistent, steady source of damage. This led him to wonder: with over twenty minutes remaining on Unleashed Phase, maybe he could spam his Phase Slash or Wave Slash at the mobs. It was a thought born of a growing desperation yet, in all honesty, he was not dumb enough to really believe it viable.

Even if his remaining duration on Unleashed Phase was a year, his abilities still weren’t going to cut it, as most of the mobs still had more than half their HP remaining, and he wouldn’t be able to hit hard enough for it to matter. It would be a different story, maybe, if Donovan wasn’t so weakened, Zephyr wasn’t incapacitated, and Alixa’s crowd control was still working, but that, sadly, was the current state of the situation. And speaking of Alixa, she now looked too run-down to continue casting spells even if they would work. Right now, she was more or less hiding behind the few tanks that were still on their feet, and the healers, who had somehow miraculously not gotten aggro yet, looked like they were about to collapse into e-debt if pressed any harder.

As Zach fought with his brain to provide him with something, anything he could use to pull everyone out of this nightmare, he became so desperate to cling to some kind of hope that his ideas began to verge on the ridiculous. He’d begun to think so far outside the box that one plan involved using binoculars, Boundless, and Phase Rescue. Having become so lost in thought, he failed to realize that Donovan had been staring at him. It was only upon hearing the large, plate-armor-wearing guild-leader clearing his throat that he managed to catch Zach’s attention. Meeting the man’s eyes, he knew right away what Donovan was about to say—and by the Gods, he did not want to hear it. Yet hear it he did, and the words sent waves of nausea barreling into him.

“It’s time for you to get going, kiddo,” Donovan said with a grunt, finally managing to stand back up to his full height. “And I ain’t coming back this go around.”

Mr. Oren looked at Donovan, sadness in his eyes. “This time, let me drop first.”

He guffawed. “Naw, I’m first again.”

Any lingering morale that the GSG might have had seemed to be lost. Everyone was on their last legs, and the Cursed Defenders of Ziragoth were on the verge of victory. Mr. Oren, despite displaying some impressive swordplay—that Zach honestly, truly thought he could beat if the stats between them were equal—was starting to bleed profusely from the back of his head and several deep, unsettling gashes on his torso as the healers were struggling to keep up. His lab coat was ripped in so many places that Zach was surprised the equipment hadn’t suffered a full break, and his cat-eye glasses, which he was still wearing on his face, had a large crack in each lens. Blood was dripping down each nostril and gliding over his cheek, and he now held his sword in one arm, as his opposite one was half severed.

His arm has been torn nearly off just like mine was, and he’s not even crying out in pain like I did.

Despite Donovan’s command to leave, Zach did not budge. He opened his mouth to offer some kind of rebuttal, yet he closed it as Donovan glared threateningly at him and cut him off. “I don’t want to hear it, whatever it is. Get going. Scram.”

Donovan wasn’t the only one to ask this of him. Even as he fought valiantly, offering what little of himself had left to give, Mr. Oren turned his eyes on Zach, and with a stern face and strict voice, he said, “You need to go now, Zach. You, Kalana, Fluffles, and your friends. Thanks for fighting with us to the last minute, my man. But it’s time now. Listen to me and leave.”

Zach shook his head. “Me and Kal can keep going.”

“I said scram!” Donvan shouted, his voice loud and intimidating. “Get lost! Or I’ll kick your ass out of here myself!”

Defiantly, Zach remained where he was, and he wasn’t the only one, either, because so too did Fluffles, who was breathing very heavily while he scratched at Maric’s heels, making loud, agitated meows. “Daddy, no!” he cried. “Daddy not allowed to die and leave Fluffles. Please no. You come with Zach and Fluffles.”

“I’m sorry, my little guy,” the large, broad-chested adventurer said. Even as he spoke, one of the mobs he was tanking managed to smash through his giant shield using its head as a battering ram, causing a full break which resulted in the shield vanishing into nothingness. “But either we all escape together, or we all sink together.”

“I die with daddy,” Fluffles said.

“What about Zach? Who will watch over him?”

Fluffles looked over to Zach and met his eyes. He meowed. “Zach make Fluffles’ daddy come with us.”

“I don’t know if I can force him,” Zach whispered. “I don’t see why those of you who can outrun the mobs don’t just do it.”

“And leave the rest of us behind?” Donovan asked. “Not happening, kiddo.”

“But you want me to leave you all behind?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“That’s not fair.”

Donovan spat. “Life ain’t fair. Deal with it.”

Zach frowned. This was normally the part where the sadness would kick in. But it didn’t. This, he found odd. Why didn’t he feel it? He was more frightened than anything: and not for his life, and not for their lives, either. He was frightened at how little he was feeling right now. Upon the realization that every single one of them was about to die, something inside of him had changed. He felt numb. He felt drained. He wanted to save his friends. He wanted them to live so badly that it hurt. The hurt was there. It was. It was inside of him. But for some reason, the hurt could not seem to manifest physically as it normally would have. It was blocked behind…behind what? He wasn’t sure.

Maybe I just know how this will end…

Of course that was it. Life never threw him a bone. It was always one disappointment after the next. If there was a tragedy around the corner, it never failed to show up with his name on it. He should have known things would end this way. A simple trip to put the dragon to sleep, and now he was going to lose all the friends he’d made since his life was uprooted. Well, not all. He’d still have Kalana, who mattered more to him than anything, and Olivir and Kolona, too. Rian and Lienne as well. But boy, he’d be losing a whole bunch in one swift blow. They were part of an overall “adventuring” family, which really was the only family he had left after the death of his father. And Mr. Oren was now the closest he had to a living relative. That was why he was so confused. Where was the sadness he knew he should be feeling? Why had he suddenly gone so numb?

“Why don’t…why don’t I feel anything?” he asked calmly, standing completely still and watching Mr. Oren struggle. He didn’t even bother to help. He just stood there for a reason unknown to him. “Why am I not sad that you’re going to die?”

Mr. Oren smiled of all things as a chunk of flesh was bitten out of his right shoulder blade. “It’s because you don’t believe this is real yet.”

“I don’t?”

He nodded. “You don’t think me and Donovan can die. You won’t feel it for a few weeks. Trust me: I’ve been where you’re standing. Now please go. I don’t want you to witness this. Then it’ll take you years to forget.”

Zach remained where he was. He could not bring himself to leave. He realized Mr. Oren was right. He was in total, complete refusal to believe that this was real. That the entire GSG could die here in front of him. Not when they had vampires. Not when they had to kill Ziragoth tomorrow. Who would lead them with Donovan and Zephyr dead? Certainly not the political guilds. Then who? Even though he understood what was happening, it didn’t feel real to him: at least not until just now, as Mr. Oren’s words somehow made this real to him.

“Please,” he said, and now he finally found some semblance of feeling within himself, as muted as it was. “Fight back. Fight harder.”

Donovan was once again swinging that giant axe of his around, and he’d even managed to take one of the mobs off of Mr. Oren, but the two of them were just in such bad, terrible shape. In fact, no one really looked like they were in good enough condition to continue on. They were all too low level. All of them. Well…everyone except Kalana, who despite being only level 66, was somehow more powerful than even Donovan. Maybe it was due to her Elvish blood or maybe it was something else, but even now, she still hadn’t broken a sweat. In fact, she was fighting harder than at any point since the adds had spawned, likely rebelling against the same fate that Zach could not himself accept. Zach watched as she became angry, hitting the mob she’d stolen from him even harder, and punishing the lizard-like, avian-headed beast using faster, vengeful strikes. Eventually, she finished it off, earning him another easy +9500xp.

LEVEL UP!

18 (17)

Speed

+1 (83)

XP Required for Level 19

80000

(LEGENDARY UNIQUE) Doomsday Slash I Acquired!

Zach felt nothing at leveling up: nothing at seeing he’d learned a new ability. Why would he? Unless it was something that could save everyone, what good was it? What good was he? Also, another one-point level up? Fucking great. Why not? He was never going to catch up. If only he was stronger, he wouldn’t be weighing whether or not to flee and leave Mr. Oren to be ripped apart by Ziragoth’s creatures. He would instead be saving them all, the same way they were trying to save the people of North Bastia.

“Grats,” Donovan coughed out, blood on his lips as he was once more becoming gravely wounded despite only having just been brought back. “Now get the fuck out of here.”

“Go,” Mr. Oren said. “Now! And…grats.”

Kesten, Alixa, Maric, and numerous members of the GSG all began shouting at him to leave, but still, he would not budge. It was only when Kalana at last came to his side and gently grabbed his wrist that he finally felt his spirit break. “Kal?” he asked, shocked beyond words. “Don’t tell me you agree with them asking us to—”

“We gotta go, Zach,” she said, interrupting him. “I can’t fight twelve of them at once.”

“But you were on the side of staying,” he said breathlessly, unable to believe what he was hearing.

She hugged him. “I don’t wanna, but they’re right. We can’t save them.”

“Olivir and Kolona won’t abandon them,” Zach said firmly. Yet, to his utter disbelief, he, Kolona, Grundor, and a limping Eldora were all making their way down the hill and heading towards him, and in their stead, a few adventurers had peeled the two mobs they’d been fighting off of them. Olivir opened his mouth to speak, but Zach pointed threateningly at him. “Don’t say it.”

“Zach…”

“Olivir, don’t!”

“I won’t let Kolona die, and you won’t let Kalana die. We have to go now while they can still hold these things off.”

Zach gritted his teeth. “Aren’t the people in the raid camp watching video of this live? How can they watch this and do nothing?”

“I promise it’s not easy for them,” Mr. Oren said. He weakly blocked a strike from the cursed defender in front of him, and now his summoned blade was knocked right out of his hands, leaving him defenseless. “But for the good of everyone else, they know better than to come here and—”

Mr. Oren was tackled to the ground as a Cursed Defender of Ziragoth began gnawing into his flesh, almost getting his throat. With a loud roar, Donovan bashed the thing over the head with his axe and managed to knock it off. But then two jumped up on top of him, and somehow, he continued to remain standing, at least for the moment. “Get the fuck out of here right now!” Donovan yelled. “Or I’ll never forgive you!”

“Kalana!” Mr. Oren shouted. “Drag him if he won’t go!”

To Zach’s horror, Kalana nodded and actually appeared to be willing to follow his instructions. All of a sudden, her hand tightened around his wrist to the point of pain. “We’re leaving, Zach,” she stated, her tone giving him the impression that this was not up for negotiation.

Panicked, Zach struggled to come up with some kind of idea, even despite having already thought through so many possibilities. “Fine!” he lied. “I’ll go. Just let me…let me try one last thing. Please.”

“No.”

“Kal, please.”

“Zach, I love you, and that’s—”

“Just give me five seconds, Kal. Just five!” When she did not release him, he screamed at her. “Just give me five fucking seconds! Please!”

With a serious, yet pained look in her eyes, she let go of his hand, and with that, she whispered, “Five seconds. And then I’ll drag you.”

“Deal!”

Zach looked around. One by one, the adventurers were falling. Zach had no idea if any were dead yet or merely just bleeding out. This really was the end for them. He couldn’t believe it had come to this. It was only supposed to be a Gods-damn little excursion to put the dragon to sleep. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way! Zach could tell from the immense look of unbearable guilt in Olivir’s eyes that he must have felt responsible even though it clearly wasn’t his fault.

I have to do something! I have to!

“Zach,” Kalana said, “it’s been—”

“I know, I know! Just one more second, please!”

Even if he had ten minutes, he knew he wouldn’t be able to think up anything. So instead, he brought up his list of abilities, desperately trying to see what this new one did fast enough that he didn’t end up being dragged away by his girlfriend while trying to determine if it could be useful. And then he despaired, as it was one of those ones that had like a massive amount of text that he couldn’t possibly read right now. Gods-be-damned! Why did a slashing ability require this long of an explanation? Hell, this wasn’t an ability: it was a fucking homework assignment!

Under so much pressure, he decided there was no point in reading any of it. After all, it was just another “slash.” How complicated could it possibly be? Rather than waste his time, he simply took note of two things: the first was that its exertion cost was “none,” and the second was that its cooldown was…huh? Wait a second. Was he reading it right, or did that say “five years?” As in: five entire calendar years. The hell? Whatever. You know what? It didn’t matter. Either way, nothing mattered at this point, so whatever.

“Okay, here I go. I’m going to try something really quickly.”

Kalana frowned. “No! You can’t just—”

“Love you,” he said with a chuckle, and this time, he was the one who blew her a kiss as he managed to evade her attempt to grab his arm. Then he dashed forward with his blade raised and ready to strike.

“Zach!” she shouted. “Come back here! Don’t let them aggro you!”

Powered by nothing but hopelessness and a willingness to try literally anything at this point, Zach decided to just activate this new ability without even reading it and hope for the best. He had no idea if it required a target, or if it was like Wave Slash and could hit multiple enemies. Therefore, he decided to mentally choose a target without knowing whether or not it was required so that, if it did, he’d have given it one; in this case, he targeted the mob called Cursed Defender of Ziragoth A, which had pinned down Mr. Oren and was nearly about to rip out his throat. Of all those whose lives were in jeopardy, it was Mr. Oren’s he wanted to save the most. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to save them all: but more so that if he could only choose one, it had to be him.

Here we go.

He didn’t know if this ability did anything useful. He didn’t know if this ability would help. He didn’t even know if he’d read that last part incorrectly or if he’d indeed actually have to wait five entire years before he could use it again. But either way, he went for it. What harm could there be in trying?

And this…

This was the moment that changed everything for him. In all fairness, no matter what he’d tell himself later, deep down, he’d always know that, if given the opportunity to replay events, he’d do it over again just the same. If some other option did exist, he doubted he’d ever be able to think of it. And yes, this may have been the moment he locked himself into a path he never wanted to travel, but at least…at least he’d done what he believed to be right.

Thus, with fear, sadness, and desperation in his heart, Zachys Calador, who so greatly craved power and some semblance of control over his life, called upon the new ability he had acquired, which would grant him one in exchange for the other.

“Doomsday Slash!” he shouted.

By now, Zach was accustomed to abilities that seemed to seize control of his body such that they made him recite certain words, perform certain body movements, and attack in certain ways. Although it never quite truly felt “normal,” he had gotten about as used to it as he was likely going to get: or at least so he’d thought. But there was a difference, he would now learn, between a brief, fleeting moment of lapse of control, and something far more profound such as the power he had just called upon. What came to be after he spoke those two words was an experience so terrifying that his only impulse was to scream—something he simply could not do, as his entire body was taken from his control, and he became little more than a passenger to his own self: a puppet pulled by his own strings.

Zach’s right, sword-wielding hand shot up and above him all on its own, pointing his blade high at the sky. Yet when control did not return to him right away, the first rush of fear entered into him. There was simply no describing the panic and horror that came with having absolutely no grasp over one’s actions.

So now, with his arm raised and his sword pointing upwards, he remained frozen in place like a statue, unable to so much as blink. And then, just as he feared he’d somehow petrified himself, something strange started to happen in the sky. It appeared to be…darkening. And it was at this point that he began to truly wish he’d had the time to read the ability’s description.

To begin with, there had only been a few clouds that had dotted the otherwise empty sky today. The sun was stronger than usual this time of year, and the heat was record-breaking and intense. It was only slightly half past noon, and the sky was so bright that glancing upwards without sunglasses would sting your eyes. And yet, as Zach held his sword to the heavens, only a few heartbeats later, the world dimmed as though someone had thrown a curtain over it, and the temperature began to drop precipitously. Shouts of fear and confusion came from the adventurers who were dying to the numerous mobs that were tearing into them, which meant that, on some level, whatever Zach had just done was more frightening to them than the butchering they were receiving. This, he found understandable, as it scared the hell out of him too, and he was the one doing it.

I can’t control my arm! What’s going on?

The sky continued to darken, becoming darker, and darker, and darker. Soon the world had dulled to the light of evening, and shortly after it was as though it had become night. But this did not just occur here in the grasslands. It did not just occur in Shadowfall Coast, either. It did not even take place solely in North Bastia. Zach was not sure how he knew this or why, but he came to understand that the entire planet was now shrouded in absolute darkness. No matter where on Galterra one resided, they would see the same shuttering of all light. Even those who lived on the other end of the world would see this darkening, as even the light of the moon was drained away by whatever unholy ability Zach had just placed his trust in.

And because of the media, whose helicopters were still buzzing somewhere above him, everyone would know that Zachys Calador had been the one to do this. Yet, if that was the extent of it, perhaps in time all of this would have been forgotten. But no, it was only the beginning.

For just a moment, the sky remained in this hauntingly dark state as the temperature now plummeted to the extent that it became as cold as the winter on Archian Prime. Behind him, Zach could hear Kalana and her cousin shiver. Olivir, on the other hand, was muttering something to himself through what sounded like chattering teeth. Zach was unable to move his body to look for himself. Yet all three of them released a loud gasp as it somehow soon became even darker than it already was. Now, a flashlight would be required just to see a few feet into the distance. It was a total, oppressive darkness: a blackness that consumed everything.

And then there came a flash. It was an intensely, blindingly bright beam of light that seemed to come from the heavens themselves, one that illuminated the darkness and cast a glow over the entire world. It was a beam of pure light that streaked downwards from as high as the eye could see, and at a speed that rivaled light—and it was heading straight for Zach.

What’s going on? he thought, panicked. What have I done?

Without making a sound, the beam slammed into the hilt of the weapon he was wielding, bathing both his sword and his body in a heavenly glow that for a moment blinded him, yet oddly did not cause him any kind of discomfort or pain. Eventually, this light faded, and when it did, he realized that it had transformed his blade into something else entirely. Now, in his hand, which he could not control, he wielded a blade with a grip made out of pure light itself. The sword was now three times its size, yet he did not feel its weight, and its crossguard had been replaced by the miniaturized wings of an angel. But most significantly, what once had been steel was now a whiteish fire that looked as though it was from the surface of a star, too bright to look directly at, yet enchanting in its own right.

Again, Zach tried to scream, but he was completely blocked off from controlling his own body. Even still, a part of him understood that everything that was happening, even if not by his own conscious, was at least driven by his will—a part of him he did not understand, but was no more alien to him than his own soul. And so, with a blade made of light, Zach pointed his weapon forward, and then as though attracted to the light itself, all remaining Cursed Defenders of Ziragoth immediately halted their actions, turned around, and began to charge towards him instead: all eleven of them.

“Zach, no!” Kalana screamed. “You’ll die! No!”

Did she think he could stop this? Or control it?

As the eleven mobs raced down the hill towards him on their powerful legs, Zach, unable to control his actions, burst forward to meet them, moving at a speed so absurdly fast that he could not understand how it was possible. This was far faster than Phase Blink, and it was far faster than any Elf could move. What was more, he soon realized he wasn’t even running: he was hovering. His body was soaring forward all on its own, with neither of his feet actually touching the ground. In less than a fraction of a second, he reached the eleven Cursed Defenders of Ziragoth, all of which surrounded him, ready to claw and bite and maim him until he was as beaten or maybe even dead as the adventurers from the GSG. At least, that was what he’d expected to happen.

He bent his knees, held his blade of light out defensively, and then rather than attack, he waited for them to come to him—which they did. The moment they came within range of his sword, Zach leapt into action. And what came next was a series of strikes so fantastical that Zach began to wonder if he was dream as he propelled himself forward at Cursed Defender of Ziragoth A, which until just now, had been killing Mr. Oren.

HP

300,000/300,000

Name

Cursed Defender of Ziragoth B

Level

90

Zach moved with such unbelievable haste that despite all eleven mobs having surrounded him in close proximity, he was still somehow able to get to this creature in the time it took for these very fast mobs to run just a single additional step’s worth of distance. Now, with the mob before him, he attacked.

From left to right, using just a single hand, his burning blade of light whirled across the avian-like face of the mob that might have already killed his friend. And the moment his sword made impact with this awful creature, there was a loud, ear-splitting bang. It was a sound that emanated from the heavens themselves. It was akin to the loudest bang of thunder he'd ever heard combined with the crack of a gun fired at point blank. It was so intensely loud that it put the sonic boom from his Phase Blink to shame. And yes, this, too, could be heard from every continent and in every city. Zach did not know how or why he knew, but he was positive that all of Galterra could hear it.

BANG!

The creature was split in two even halves, as Zach struck for 415,821,958 damage.

+38000xp

Upon seeing such a number, Zach did not feel pride. He did not feel powerful. He did not even feel relief. He felt only fear. Terror. At what this implied. He realized now that he’d been in denial all along. Kalana had been right about him. And he had refused to listen. Because the thought of his appraisal being true frightened him far more than anything else did. It wasn’t…it wasn’t something he wanted. He wanted to be strong, but he did not want to be this. He could not believe what he had just done. He could not believe that within him was this…this “doomsday slash.”

His terror having reached his peak, he was just glad that this nightmare was over. With the strike having been completed, he waited for his body to return to his control. He would have to run from the other ten, but at least…at least this was over. Right?

No.

What Zach would soon find out was that his heaven-roaring, godly strike from the blade of pure light—this was not the sum of the ability he had summoned. No. This was just the opening salvo. A warmup. A demonstration. An exercise. When the ability began in earnest, it was at this point that Zach knew he was about to be in a whole lot of trouble: with the political guilds, with other races, with Mr. Oren, with…with everyone.

Moving at a speed so fast that it surpassed Phase Blink, Zachys…flew? Ran? Dashed? No, none of these words worked. It was far more accurate to say that he “relocated” himself to the next nearest mob. And now, he did not strike this creature once. He did not strike it twice. He did not even seem content to hit it a few times. For a reason unknown to him, he instead delivered a series of slashes that defied what should have been allowable under the laws of science and the natural world. And when he did, he struck with such speed that, even to his own eyes, he could not fully see or comprehend the motion of the blade.

Still holding the sword of burning light in a single-handed grip, Zach unleashed a combination of twenty-five blazingly fast slashes one after the next into this bloodthirsty creature that had terrorized him and his friends. But he did not know this number because he could see the motion of it with his eyes. He knew this number because, each time his blade struck, the heavens roared, and a thunderous bang so loud that it shattered every window in the upscale metropolis of Varda’s lair and caused more worldwide terror than the dragon itself followed on the heels of each of them. It was not simply the volume of each bang, but the speed as they were chained one after the next, traumatizing the entire planet.

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG!!!!!!!

All across Galterra, pets whimpered to their owners, children screamed to their parents, and people on every continent dropped to the floor and ducked their heads low in confusion, not knowing if they were being attacked or if something was coming to harm them and their family.

BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG BANG!!!!!!!

Zach wished he could close his eyes. He did not want to see these numbers. They made him feel sick. They made him feel wrong.

11,821,958

152,261,731

4,211,581

20,000,000

15,121,541

1,021,491,214

By the time his blade had finished its final strike, the mob was in so many pieces that no individual part could be identified. They were just “scraps” and nothing more. Zach had never felt such fear in his life. Not even when Fylwen had led him to his death. Was this why she chose to do that to him? Was it because of this? Did she know? Did they all know? Did Kalana know? Why? Why him? Why not someone else? He wasn’t made for this?

+38000xp

It was said you should be careful what you wish for. To Zach, that saying was about to ring so horribly true, as before his very eyes, he got the one thing he thought he always wanted, and now? Now, he never wanted anything less. Now he wanted it to go away. If only he could form tears, he would shed them at the sight to greet his vision.

LEVEL UP!

19 (18)

Strength

+41 (134)

Dexterity

+34 (124)

Constitution

+37 (103)

Intelligence

+11 (136)

Speed

+34 (117)

Luck

+05 (61)

XP Required for Level 20

100000

NO! Zach screamed in his mind. TAKE IT BACK! PLEASE! I DON’T WANT IT! I WAS WRONG. PLEASE, GODS, PLEASE! I DON’T WANT THIS! I DON’T WANT THIS ANYMORE!

Once again, he “relocated” himself to another of the mobs, and now his body began to spin so fast that the world became nothing more than a few streaks of incoherent, kaleidoscopic sights as he carved apart the next mob with what could have been twenty or twenty thousand strikes. There was no way of knowing. The BANG of each attack blended together to form something closer to a thunderous chorus of machine-gun fire, which for a reason he couldn’t begin to explain, he somehow knew had caused a little seven-year-old girl in Whispery Woods to tremble and hug her mother while screaming and demanding to know what was happening and why.

Then Zach abruptly stopped spinning, and there was absolutely no dizziness, no sense of inertia, and no pain. Now, he could see that he had reduced the creature to what looked like tens of thousands of little tiny strips no larger than a piece of hair or string, which were all floating slowly downward towards the ground. Yet even still, he swung his blade upwards, attacking what, at this point, was basically just the empty air, and then he jumped up, flipped forward about six times, and then slammed his sword into the ground, creating another bang, and causing an eruption of the terrain akin to what Ziragoth had done when he’d flown directly down onto it and causing a crater to form that had to be at least a hundred-feet deep.

+38000xp

How long would this go on for? When would this end? This, he wondered as the eight remaining mobs all charged him at once, each making an angry chirp as they dashed across the grass to strike at him. All attacked in unison, and Zach braced himself—or at least tried to brace himself—for impact. Instead, he merely stood where he was with his burning sword of light held calmly and gently by his side. He said nothing and did nothing. Even as they came closer and closer. Then, at the exact moment in time that all eight reached him, he launched himself high into the air, ascending higher and higher until it blurred the line between jumping and flying.

The scalding hot, humid air, which had already become icier than the chilling wind on Archian Prime, now became even colder as he advanced further upwards into the black, moonless sky. Still, he continued to ascend. His ears popped, his hands began to tingle, and to his mind-blowing terror, he ventured through several layers of clouds, continuing to lift himself to greater and greater heights until, at last, at an altitude so vast it made the DEHVs in Shadowfall Coast look like tiny little ants, he came to a halt, floating in the air. This set off an explosion of fear that rippled through his chest, yet even still, he could not scream. He could, however, speak, it seemed.

For the first time, he wielded his blade of light and fire in both hands, and then he raised his arms so that he held it above his head. Finally, with no control over his actions, he roared, “DOOMSDAY SLASH!” and with that, he ripped his blade downwards, leaving a burning streak in the air, and from the tip of his blade emerged a ripple not unlike that of Phase Slash. There was one exception, of course, which was that this one was far more visible, and it was made of the same, burning light that had taken over the grip of his sword. As this ripple was launched down upon the remaining mobs, Zach prayed—he truly, from the bottom of his heart, prayed—that he did not just do something that would annihilate an entire city, kill any people, or cause the dragon to awaken—unless of course it killed the thing in one hit.

Please make it stop! Please! I don’t want this!

******

Despite the extent of his injuries, and in spite of the agony traveling all throughout his body, Alex grabbed Alixa with his one functioning hand while his opposite arm hung uselessly at his side, and he slung her over his shoulder. Then, with blood oozing out of so many places he couldn’t begin to count them all, he began to force his legs to move faster and faster as he watched what he could only describe as some kind of light bomb descend upon the grasslands of Galterra.

“I’ve got you,” Kalana said, helping Jaen, their silver-haired healer that Zach had earlier saved—and now was on the verge of killing.

Taking her hand, Kalana helped the woman up to her feet—then paused to look upwards.

“Stop!” Alex shouted at her. “Whatever you do, don’t think about it right now. Don’t look. Don’t think. Save.”

She nodded, slowly. Her eyes were not dry, but she was still functioning. She had questions. She had concerns. So did everyone. Alex did not have the answers. Who would? Who could possibly explain this? Donovan looked positively shaken, and Zephyr, having only just awoken, was rubbing his head as though in confusion.

“You said this was gonna happen,” Kalana whimpered. “But you didn’t tell me it would be so—”

“Not now, please,” Alex said.

“Why’s he doing this?”

“He’s not. I don’t think he has any control. But that’s not what we should be concerned with right now. I know it’s hard, but you must focus.”

She was so close to breaking down. But this wasn’t the time or place. She needed to be strong for a little while longer. “He saved all of us, Kalana. That’s the only thing that matters for now.”

Donovan barked a laugh. “Maybe,” he said. “Or he might be about to kill us all. Let’s just get the fuck out of here before that bomb of his vaporizes us."

With a snap of his fingers, the vampire known as Olivir called forth skeleton horses for those unable to run but who were still capable of picking themselves up, while Fluffles, Kolona, and Grundor each carried two adventurers a piece. Fluffles had transformed himself into his absolute largest of forms so that two more badly wounded GSG members could ride on his back. So far, there were no casualties, but there were several who could die at any moment without healing back at the camp.

Working together with Donovan, he and Alex made certain that no one would be left behind. Then, as a group, they all made a run for it down the hill, sprinting wildly and without regard for whether or not they fell or collapsed. They just needed to move. They needed to move now. One foot in front of the other, Alex ignored the worst pain he’d ever felt in his life. If they made it through this, every one of them was going to need one of the stones. They’d have to empty the guild treasury for sure. This was, by far, the most banged up they’d ever been. By all rights, they should be dead right now: and had they been even a second slower, all of them would be. Yet through some miracle, together, they made it out just fine.

And then the white, shining light struck, and everyone, even Donovan screamed.

*****

Even from all the way up here, Zach was nearly blinded by a light so bright that it obscured his vision of the Galterran surface. All he could see was white, and for a good while, this light persisted. Then, finally, it slowly began to fade, and when it did, he was relieved to see that the tiny little dot he took to be Ziragoth had not awoken. He was less relieved, however, when he realized that he could’ve used this ability to kill it if he’d only known what it could do ahead of time.

At any rate, the dragon remained asleep, and the damage he’d caused looked to be minimal. It appeared that, rather than create an explosion, whatever he’d just dropped on those mobs was localized to the immediate area they were in, and what remained in the aftermath was a hole in the terrain the width of a sports field that almost certainly ran many miles deep. Zach supposed it was a pretty safe bet that the adds were finally dead, too.

I didn’t get any xp for them, though, he thought bitterly. He must have been out of range—by a lot. What was strange was that, only seconds ago, he’d been terrified of his own self to the point he didn’t want any more experience points or levels. But now that he’d been cheated out of hundreds of thousands of them, he was upset and bitter and royally pissed off. The hell was wrong with him?

But forget all that, because more importantly than anything else: did he kill any of his friends? That was what really mattered. Truly, he didn’t think that he had. He wasn’t sure why he felt that way, but for some reason, he strongly believed that he hadn’t. It was almost as though it was a matter of trusting himself.

At any rate, the air was beginning to warm, though slowly, and the absolute darkness was starting to relent. This, as he was now finally beginning to descend. Taking a breath, Zach prepared himself for what was surely to be an unpleasant trip back down. But for the moment, it started off sedately, almost gently, and then he began to pick up speed, dropping faster and faster.

It’s okay, Zach told himself, taking another cautious breath and wiping some saliva on the corner of his mouth. My ‘move’ or whatever the fuck this is will protect me. Wait, did I just…did I just wipe my mouth? Did I control that? He turned his head to look down upon what was more than a thousand feet of distance below him. Then he looked at the sword in his right hand, which was now back to being its normal, beautiful self.

Oh, you son of a bitch ability!

Zach shrieked as he began to freefall from the Gods-damn fucking sky, while in full control of his body. As unmanly and humiliating as it was, he cried out the entire way down as he started to pick up more and more speed until his tunic and trousers began flapping uncontrollably against the wind. Faster and faster he fell, watching as the grasslands began to grow in size and the ground began approaching him at an ever-increasing rate.

“This is bullshit!” he cried to the heavens. “How can an ability fly me up here and then not land me? This is bullshit!” He began to fall faster and faster and faster. “This is bullshiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii—”

*****

“Your Majesty,” Abram said to the queen, folding his arms on the table. “I realize there is a great deal of strangeness occurring outside, and what I’ve just seen troubles me more than words can ever describe, but seeing as how the dragon has been put to sleep and that we have no control over these…these bizarre phenomena, I think it would be in everyone’s best interest if we finally got down to—”

“—iiiiiiiiiiiit”

Abram jumped out of his seat and fell backwards onto his ass as some kind missile crashed through the roof of the tent—and then with a tremendous bang, exploded the fancy table in the central command unit. This was the same table that had only just been cleaned up and repositioned after Zachys Calador kicked the entire thing outside and spilled all of its contents earlier. Now, mere moments after restoring it to order by having refreshments, documents, and decorations carefully placed back on top of it, Abram watched as it literally detonated into hundreds—or maybe thousands—of pieces as some kind of weapon was launched at them.

“Is it the Guild of Gentlemen?” Kolorn Besh shouted, jumping out of his chair and darting his head every which way. “Are we being attacked?”

“Most likely,” Abram growled. “We knew Sir Peter Brayspark might resort to treachery! If so, we’ll have no choice but to—”

“M-my bad,” said a familiar-sounding voice.

Abram’s words cut off at once, and a confusion came upon him that momentarily left him unable to speak or know what to say. Right now, in the middle of their beautifully constructed tent, their ornately crafted negotiating table was in too many pieces to count, and beneath the spot where the table had once sat, there was a hole in the ground—one that looked to be several-hundred-feet deep. And from this emerged the face and upper body of an exhausted-looking boy with wavy black hair who was covered in so much dust, plaster, wood chips, and dirt that Abram almost didn’t recognize him.

When no one said a word, the boy chose to speak first. “I am so, so sorry,” he said, fully crawling outside of the crater he’d made in the command tent. Abram, along with all the leaders of humanity, looked quietly at him without responding. Becoming visibly unsettled, the boy said, “It was a skydiving accident. My chute wouldn’t fire.”

As he tried to stand up, he slipped on tablecloth from the only other table in the room, causing a tremendous number of bangs as ceramic plates, silverware, and a fair bit of liquid were either destroyed or spilled onto the floor, with some of it falling inside the hole he’d created.

Trying again to stand up, he wiped some of the dirt and dust away from his face, met each one of their eyes, and shrugged. “I’m trying to think of something to bullshit you guys with, but look, there’s just really…I mean what the fuck can I say here? This is like twice in ten minutes. I’ve got nothing. At this point, you can just think whatever you want. All I can do is insist I didn’t do this on purpose. You know what? Honestly? I think you put your tent in a bad spot. I mean that’s all there is to it. This is a really bad spot for a tent. This was bound to happen.”

Abram rubbed his chin. “Perhaps…” Turning around to face his guild-leader, he bowed his head. “I’ll have the place cleaned up again so that we can start.” He raised his hand to shield his eyes, as the sun had once more come out and was now shining down on top of them on account of the fact that Zachys Calador had just destroyed their roof. “We might need a few extra minutes, on second thought.”

“That is fine,” Fylwen said. “I need a few minutes as well.”

Abram tensed up as he saw her walk over to Zachys Calador, who himself tensed up as if terrified of the woman, which given what he’d claimed, made perfect sense. Yet with a gentle, almost motherly touch, she tapped his shoulder. “Y-yes?”

“You dropped your sword again.”

“Right.” He chuckled.

“Can I have a word with you, young man?”

He sighed. “Yeah, why not.” And with that, he walked out of the tent with the queen as a plate fell off his head and shattered onto the floor.