Generate a highly detailed, realistic digital painting depicting an expansive view from a weathered stone rooftop parapet overlooking a dense, sprawling fantastical city at night. The city architecture is a grounded mix of tightly packed multi-story buildings with steep, dark, possibly tiled or wooden shingled roofs, suggesting a non-modern, established urban environment. Impose taller, gothic-inspired stone structures like cathedrals or guild halls with pointed spires intermittently throughout the cityscape, hinting at underlying dungeons or powerful institutions. Integrate subtle tropical environmental details, such as the silhouettes of hardy palm trees or large-leafed vines visible on some distant terraces or clinging to walls, grounding the fantasy setting. The perspective is slightly elevated, looking down and across the sea of rooftops.
The lighting is crucial: dominate the scene with cool, deep blue moonlight casting realistic, long shadows across the roofs and down into the implied narrow alleyways. Break the darkness only with sparse, small, warm yellow lights emanating realistically from a few scattered windows below, suggesting isolated points of life without overwhelming the nocturnal mood. A slight nocturnal haze or humidity should subtly soften distant details, enhancing atmospheric perspective.
The foreground must feature the textured edge of the weathered stone rooftop or parapet – focus on depicting realistic stone block patterns, perhaps with slight moss, water stains, or wear, making it feel tangible. No characters should be present. The overall mood should be quiet, objective, slightly melancholic or mysterious, a precise and believable backdrop suitable for placing a character into, emphasizing realism within the fantasy context. Style: Realistic fantasy setting, detailed textures, atmospheric perspective, objective scene-setting, cinematic night lighting.A man named Matthew with dark hair and a smirk stands on a rooftop, extending his hand toward the viewer as if inviting them in. He's dressed in elegant, dark clothing with a pop of color from a red-orange undershirt. The background is a city at night, bathed in cool blue tones with buildings silhouetted against the sky. The title, "Matthew," is written in a bold, white, handwritten font at the bottom of the image. Below the title, in a smaller, simpler font, is the tagline: "The Epitome of Grace and Beauty - An Intellectual Psychological Isekai LitRPG"Book Description: Matthew, a once ordinary man, had his life abruptly snatched away. Despite a content existence on Earth, surrounded by loved ones and knowledge, he found himself thrust into a new world, devoid of care or compassion. Struggling to adapt, he relied on his intellect to navigate the chaos around him. Every action held consequence, with death lurking at every turn. Determined to maintain his sanity and control, he sought to make sense of his surroundings and establish dominance. Yet, beneath his turmoil, a realization dawned—to survive, he must embody grace and beauty, transcending the chaos that engulfed him. He would become the epitome of grace and beauty. He was not crazy. He was just like everyone else. But he had to become everything. 1 chapter everyday; 2500 average word count; 2 PM CET
Chapter 1 - A World Apart
Author's note The Github commit page (version history) for revision updates The blog for more formal status reportsTo begin, the goblin stood in front of Matthew, whose face was sure and committed, his breath cycling without pause, and the blade he held thirsty for a syrupy strike. Even now, Matthew grinned; a vague multifaceted impression of intentions lingering behind his expression—time would not pause for him. He would have to guide it himself, his grip fiery in form, the edges of his blade twanging endlessly for justification. Furthermore, hidden with him lay thoughts of self-assuredness and the concept of being or becoming the epitome of grace and beauty—a process that needed both external and internal affirmation as demanding as two beggars on the streets glancing from side to side. In conclusion, he raised his blade as if to slash.
Before this month, things were different, so different. If Matthew only knew, if he did, he wouldn't be thinking the way he was now, stuck in contemplation like some stuck-up little nobody too involved with his daydreams. He was daydreaming indeed, his thoughts a hurricane of imagination and considerations like a scholar reading bookshelves-worth of information within any given year. It was excessive. It was wonderful. And it was nonsensical. Moving into that daydreaming mind of his, sounds and pops emerged rectilinearly throughout, a process comparable to the connection between someone riding a horse into the sea and the over-beeping of a car horn. It was strange and excessive with little synchrony in between them, except for that sensation that they came in lines, similar to tasting orange after seeing a cloud when tripping out on hallucinogens. It didn't have the same energy as someone fighting with a blade or crushing an opponent in a life-or-death situation. It was just him making empty ideas in his brain in an imaginative way. To explore his imaginative mind further, one could start with this bundle of ideas: "The briefness of flight and the sky hiding above—they all gather together to form my presence. My eyes know that I am alive." Then, furthermore, this mind could be found more surreal and riveting with this statement: "A drop of ice cubes almost clanked in his ear before he was taken back to reality, where sounds zoomed and tore through the air. This could be likened to artistic noise cycling over a spreadsheet. With all of this poking his senses, he wanted to escape into his mind." It kept going and going, not a single breath wasted. All energy was devoted to this cause of inspiration. "Morning, night. It could be any other day. But today was different. He was here at home, eating breakfast. That was what separated his life from everyone else—he was who he was right now." "He looked behind him, in front of him, and all around because this place was familiar and it was everything that he knew. If something took it all away, then he would lose his mind." "This was his mental state, clear and unhindered, carrying out its duties as a soul would. This was his hope and his mind. This was where he placed himself consciously with ebbs and flows. This was self-awareness—the knowledge that as a consequence of his own thought, he existed." "Breaking apart from this philosophical reflection, a quiet, magical song progressively intensified in the background like a green monster stalking in the shadows." "Time passed. It was only a few seconds, but it was enough to make someone feel hurt and pain. It was enough to break a soul." "He was here, and everywhere around him, there was life." "From his left, cheers of excitement flew throughout the home, contrasting the possibilities of death staining this world." "To his right, words about games oozed with hearty pleasure, taking the form of tangible sounds that conflicted with existential hardship." "All around him, these voices echoed, mimicking the anticipation a student felt before their test results.: "When they did, they passed each point of the house." "And at each point, the various memories associated with it bloomed, imbuing Matthew with a nostalgic fondness for how temporary things could be." "The silence continued to draw forth Matthew's introspection with whirling winds." "Shifting to his expression, a smile stretched across his lips, holding up his light-weight cheeks." "Nevertheless, he continued his assessment of his environment, imagining himself with his family forever and the feeling of losing them." "The final touch of his thoughts involved the scent of acrylic wafting close. It hailed from the remains of an unfinished blue paint job. With a nearby sniff, it gloated with characteristics like honey and of a coming sourness." "In the end, he found love in the people around him." His thoughts continued on and on, and it never ended. Meanwhile, Matthew's siblings at the same table were engaged in a conversation about a game. "Yeah! and the fact that they used that champion is what scared me the most!" said Matthew's youngest brother, Jerome. "I already knew that game was over!" "Yeah!" said Mark, the second-to-youngest brother, headphones slithering around his neck as it fell. But he caught it before his smile dampened. Another voice pitched in, another of Matthew's brothers: "Do they even read patch notes? I'm honestly confuddled!" They were all his brothers, but some family friends passed by. So it was a gathering. Soon, the voices sounded more faint as Matthew faded sleepily into the night. But before that happened, Matthew himself added: "No, of course not! At this point, they should just retire the players. Just kidding." He was the eldest. As soon as Matthew's focus diverged from the conversation, he learned there was still more chicken, so he gestured. Eventually, someone passed it to him. As soon as he began eating, movements slowed down, and the mood began to embody still life in its form. Though, in life, there was a cycle. Consequently, Matthew himself noticed these realizations and realized that he was being mindful, making a smile. Eventually, as he smiled, his thoughts and concerns stopped at the appearance of a familiar smell—burning. For some reason, this time, that smell marked something new. Things were shifting like the movements of a hurricane. But life was always like that. Yet, this situation was different. Things were morphing. Meanwhile, he noticed that the streets outside his window had this green magical hue, but it disappeared when he removed his glasses. He realized that the light bounced against his glasses in a unique way, cultivating his curiosity for what lay ahead in his awesome life. Pivoting his focus to his brothers, he noticed his brothers' voices crescendoing. But in a moment's notice, they turned pitch black, still as a picture. Suddenly, Matthew's smile dropped, and he began to stare at them for a moment, realization creeping in, facial expressions warping through and through. But he suddenly disappeared, his open mouth cut off, his scream making waves across the universe. All those years with his brothers turned to ashes, resting solely upon his memories moving forward. Soon, as quickly as he disappeared, his eyes opened like the flip of a switch. This was when he stopped thinking. His eyes let in light. Focusing on the moment and the colors and shapes in his vision, he started to get a creeping sense. He opened and closed his eyes again and again like a paratrooper falling into enemy fire. His internal systems were trembling, making way for realization. Then, his physical body responded in the form of shakings and tremors all across his body. He stopped breathing, but he took a breath at a time he didn't notice. His body began to sweat. Collapsing, he thought he was still standing. His eyes darting around, the headaches surged. He lay still. This agony took 30 minutes to complete. At the end of it, he said his first words, "Am I..." He was in a new world. Where was he? He looked around; even his eyes were strange. With time, naturally, the color green and the forest sharpened in his vision. He breathed deep, still unable to exhale efficiently. The light was lighter now like a bottle of glass reflecting sunlight, and his mind was easier. Breeze of this world touching his skin, it marked the first time he was in a different world. He was here in a different world. "What's happening?" he proclaimed, his voice waving around and spinning in different places. The sense of disorientation extended to his mouth. Waiting, he fixed his breath, then tested it, then hyperventilated briefly before returning to normal. He sniffed the air and the organic smells. He yearned to know where he was right now. His heart paused when it heard a rustle in the background. Looking around, his heart revved up again, opened up room for a nagging emotion: chaos, anarchy, and a sense that nothing would be the same. But he hoped it was similar to what it was like being a teenager: feeling strong emotions and pain that soon disappeared as if they were never there. The background rustle was forgotten. "Where am I?" he asked, a forced smile making its way into his face. Meanwhile, the rustle found its origin—a group of green monsters seeing him in the distance, their faces clearing by the second. Actually, he didn't see them because he wasn't looking. Yes, his head was turned away. Rapidly, the monsters increased their footsteps per second. They dashed. Matthew heard them, turning around, seeing that moments were shortening now that the monsters were on the move. He glared out of fear, stumbling a little. He gasped, his huffing voice trailing behind him. He hadn't been able to find the time to breathe or say something. "What the hell!" he yelled with a croak, his voice puncturing his expression with the sense that he was going to die. His voice parachuted behind him and echoed past the monsters, alerting them of his precise spot. "Please!" He bolted, his heart leaping in lumps, shaking. Several warty pigs emerged on his left side, taking off out from the bushes and stumbling along Matthew's path. Several monsters caught up to them in the distance, their feet grabbing into the terrain. He leapt, his mouth shaking. "No!" Behind him, two monsters reached a tree, launching themselves several leaps forward. Nearby, Matthew looked at them as time slowed. In the same breath, the pigs tripped and fell after he unintentionally dodged in their path. From behind, ramping fast, a monster's weapon found its mark on a tree next to Matthew after it was thrown. It had pierced through a pig. Due to tunnel-visioning at the pigs, the opportunity to kill Matthew evaporated. "Please! No!" Matthew pushed on, struggling recklessly, tearing a tiny hole in his shirt, as he pulled himself and struggled against the dense vegetation. He climbed down a slope, but it was too steep and rugged, leaving little time to escape. He looked behind him and kept going, running down until he slipped on the sand-like material on the ground. When he fell, his back hit the earth, and he screamed in pain. The shadows of a set of weapons began hovering behind Matthew. "No, no, please!" He closed his eyes, knowing that he could die at any moment. He looked at the sky, his face crumping. He yelled, seizing the next branch and pulling himself forward. A moment afterwards, he was pulled against the monsters' fists, as he hollered with pain. He begged for his life, the blades striking through skin and muscle. Motions turned into succinct lines, and his heart became a sinking swine–like cry. "Noo!" His voice was beaten to a crisp. Long afterward, when Matthew came to his senses, the shadows of people drifted past him. Also, in his daze, he could only make out the blades flying past his face. Indeed, he nearly died, so he stood up. But he felt a hand touching his shoulder, healing his body. "Thank you," he said, still unsure how to comprehend his situation, emotions becoming repressed in his saviors' wake. "Who are you?" he continued, fixing his hair instinctively at the sight of a person. The person who saved him, a healer, nodded, saying: "You should rest. Don't worry about us. We'll talk later." Behind her, a group of adventurers were running around, killing off the last goblins. Now that he was given space, Matthew's eyes darted around, looking for safety, but he was in a state of disarray, broken beyond measure. But maybe, this day would end, and he would disappear. He was safe, but his mind remained tortured. He smiled a broken smile, as the healer turned around and joined her teammates. As he processed the past series of events, the adventurers who had saved him finished cleaning up the rest of the goblins, forming a circle where they ate and drank to celebrate. "It's the fact that he was laughing at that that made me so surprised!" A chorus of laughter followed. "And, and as soon as he heard me, he was already out running!" More laughter broke out. In the meantime, nearby, Matthew began trying to talk with one of the adventurers. "Yeah, we had to fix up the goblin list. It wasn't all that easy today..." The adventurer kept talking on and on, including strange terminology, and Matthew overestimated his energy levels, not being able to analyze his words. Matthew suddenly thanked him, extending this thanks to the whole group. But days later, he burst into tears and grieved for his family that he loved back on Earth. He said: "Ma... Dad... Mark... Jerome... Gabriel... I'm sorry." This was every day of his life now. However, with time, Matthew found it easier to focus his energy inward, as he aggregated his thoughts. He was everything that everyone wanted to be, but he was trapped in a jail cell. It was like when he was younger and when things were still bad at home. During those days, he would look through the bars of the staircase, through the window, and through the arrows of the gate just to have his eyes meet with an enormous structure that blocked most of his view of the sky. He did this when he felt most trapped by his domestic circumstances, and this set of coincidental physical representations of his feelings gave him a sense of place. Now, he was reminded of this coincidence, and he wished that he could return home. He was homesick and nostalgic like Swiss mercenaries who missed the beauty of the countryside. Even if Earth in 2024 was horrific in many ways, it was the only place he could call home. It was a horrible place that he had growth accustomed to and experienced a lot of good and bad things in that he felt that he could no longer go anywhere else without completely eliminating himself as a person. His social life, family, friends, sources of happiness, coping mechanisms, history, past experiences, and interests all lay on Earth, not in this new world he was in. Even if he travelled on Earth, as long as he was still with his family, he could enjoy himself and still feel real and memorable. Even the bad things on Earth gave him a sense of purpose because he had been dealing with them long enough to feel that he could keep going and continue resisting them. However, in this new world, he would face new challenges that he had never faced before. Essentially, he was an immigrant who had lost his stable native life and job to work at the bottom in a whole new country. To be honest, if he had to lower the seriousness a bit, he would think about his favorite dishes like sinigang, pork sisig, and other Filipino food. Though, he did feel a sense of wonder for the dishes of this new world similar to how he felt about konbini food, or food found in Japanese convenience stores. Maybe, he could be okay. That was also what the guy at the adventurer guild suggested: "You could be okay." "I could," Matthew said with a smile on his face, that which he prepared for social situations. But no, he was happy to talk with someone. It was better than torture. "I remember a lot of things," he continued. "I remember the sun, the earth, and all the flavors of the... time I was still just sitting down..." "Huh?" the adventurer said. "What do you mean?" "It's hard to explain." Matthew knew that nothing could explain what it felt like to exist. It was too difficult for him. He knew that isolation was a resultant threat to his sanity. So with enough time to ponder, he looked around, his heart beating in all the wrong places. Indeed, he made up a motley of people, him being the most out of place. His clothes were still the white shirt and shorts he usually wore at home. As for his current location, he was sitting inside an inn where tens of people were eating, drinking, and sharing stories and concerns. It was a hub of living people, and it was not the kind of place that he could just tamper with without considering his duties and rights. If someone decided to punch him in the face, he could not just use the logic of his culture and society at Earth to justify the rationale behind his subsequent response. He needed to align himself with this new world and its bylaws, which meant that he had to assess each person seriously with a great focus placed on how liked they were. This way, he could trace the roots of likability in this new environment. Basically, his college degree did more than give him essays to write. Additionally, it gave him a sense of agency in teams, so even though he lacked a team, he considered the people around him as team members. All he had to do was find out exactly how each person fit into society. It all started from this inn.
Chapter 2 - Navigating the Unknown: Entering the Realm of Questions
First, Matthew could start with a list of essential questions, so he did. Though, he was risking outing himself, but with the inn regulars' help, maybe he could seem like a drunk or some foreigner with his modern clothes and unique ethnic appearance. He said: "Where exactly am I? Is there a name for this place or region?" A hooded figure clad in flowing robes, clutching a staff crackling with hints of lightning, nodded as he stood, his bread and butter of a beard dousing his short tunic with a ruggedly handsome note. He said, his voice like a singing brass: "Hell, indeed, if you want to know, just check the [System]. It'll give you coordinates of where you are. Moreover, you can also find out whether how many days have passed since this world was created. Weird question. But you're joking right?" He chuckled politely. His name was Thorne. Matthew answered, his voice as clear as the tropical jungle ate up space in the sky. "No, I honestly don't know about what's going on. It's not [System] I know at all. Whatever you're talking about. But I am... I want to say thank you, and I really hope you can keep answering questions because it would be helpful." It was a little nerve-wracking for him to be so clear, considering that he was the outsider here in a new culture, leaving him very vulnerable. When the affirmative responses he got were short and left much to interpretation but with tones of openness and enjoyment, he continued, albeit carefully watching the most forward and least forward, comparing their reactions to get a quick assessment of the general acceptance rate since that could change in response to his following questions. "What is the [System]? And how does that relate to showing coordinates?" "It shows it by showing you through the words. You can see it. Just think about the [System]." Matthew wasn't sure, so he tried. After a minute of trying sheepishly to get it to work, he followed up on with another question. "How is it supposed to work? Are there any other actions I must take?" "No, it's supposed to show you as soon as you form the intention for it to appear." "Well, it's not working." Thorne told another regular named "Elara," "Hmm... Ela, what's happening here?" "I don't know. But maybe he's cursed?" Elara said and glanced at the other regulars, prompting them to respond. Thorne continued: "Maybe... Maybe." Matthew didn't look nervous, but his heart was ramping quickly, concerned about the possibility of a curse. If he really was, he would ask for help about it. That was the only thing he could do. Children asked many questions, and he was effectively a child in this new world. The smell of food entered the kitchen. It was the first batch of the day, and Matthew hadn't eaten yet. So the other regulars told him to wait for a few days and that the [System] might work again then, inviting him to eat with them. After Matthew ate, he reunited with the adventurers who saved him outside near the stalls. They made him enter the inn because they were engaging in routine work as merchants and helping organize the bazaar where they worked. So they gave him some money to buy food, but the inn regulars were kind to him since he entertained them as a curious, reserved, approachable young man. But he wanted to finish the rest of his questions, but he wanted to stick close to the adventurers for now instead of loitering at the inn. In the end, he couldn't push it and focused on observation. Anyway, he had one concern weighing on his mind. Since he was staying in a city, getting out often entailed dangers and a lack of a support system for any ambitions he had in mind. Additionally, his initial goals for starting in this city included learning how to get in and out the city with ease, as some territories had a tendency toward border control. In order for him to find out whether the territory he was in had strict border control or not, he had to ask around. Fortunately, a group of teenagers who were looking to please older adventurers, especially those who had saved Matthew, presented themselves. Matthew took advantage of this opportunity and asked an important question, "Can I just go outside the city?" "Sure, you can," said one of the teenagers. "How about back in?" "Yes—" Another teenager interjected: "Hey, I finally got my quest. Let's go!" "Third week?" said a third teenager. "Let's go!" "What was—" Matthew said. "Wait a minute," said one of the adventurers. "That's only if you're registered. Are you registered?" He was referring to going in and out the city. "No," said Matthew politely. "Then... let me show you how to register..." "What was that about the third quest?" "Huh, the quest you get every three weeks? You should have one right now..." "I don't." "Huh. Are you new to the [System] somehow? That's weird. Anyway..." He beckoned Matthew with his hand. "Come on." Since the adventurers gave him space instead of conversing with him, Matthew had to give up the potential of understanding through them and opt for contemplation. If he could visit a village or a small, more remote town, that would give him an idea of how "regular" life was like for most people. However, at the moment, he was in the middle of a bustling urban populace, so it was hard to glimpse the broader world and its flow. In more complex terms, finding out the threads that kept together certain structures and how they combined to fill the needs and demands of various markets would enable him to pinpoint the source most appropriate for his time, space, and resources. Returning to a lighter mood, Matthew found himself observing and listening to the adventurers in the background and the way they bantered. When the adventurer who had beckoned Matthew got him registered, Matthew asked, "Is there a village or a small town nearby?" "No." The adventurer smiled and then burst into a chuckle. "Yes. I'm just playing with you." Matthew smiled slightly, still hesitant to respond strongly. When the adventurer calmed down, he stared for a moment, glanced at his fellow adventurers, and returned his gaze at Matthew. "Why? Do you want to go there? I can accompany you there." His name was Deathbringer. Currently, they were inside an office building, and next to them, someone was watching. This watching person spoke up when he ascertained the lull in their conversation: "Okay, Matthew. Okay, Mr. Deathbringer. What do we have here? I see both your names, but I don't see a licence to visit one of the 'villages'." He was the registrant, and he was the way for Matthew to register as part of the city to get in and out. "No, not one of the monster dens. We don't mean that." Deathbringer turned his attention to Matthew, telling the other adventurers to vacate the room and head outside with a gresture. "Sorry, if you don't know, the villages he's talking about refer to the monster dens. It's where monsters appear every few seconds and stuff." With that said, Matthew tilted his head to the left and kept his eyes curious with the intention of looking approachable. His place in the conversation was brief, but he knew that he could continue to listen and observe, accumulating knowledge even as a spectator. Deathbringer told the registrant, "Since Matthew is newly entered, is it okay if you complete our reports for us? Also, the golem should help out in occasions like these, right?" The registrant nodded, waving his hands to cast a spell that made a loud drumming sound lasting for a several seconds. With the magical cue of the registrant, a golem at the entrance moved around, having served as a stationary part of the entrance structure. But currently, his purpose extended beyond visual decor, giving a sense of dynamism. While he might be a golem, Matthew noticed it glancing appraisingly at the adventurers behind Matthew and Deathbringer. These adventurers were sitting sparsely at many two-seat tables. Moreover, they talked in a mirthful manner across tables, resting their arms on the backrests, sitting down sideways, and having one leg crossed over the other. In addition, often times, they mirrored each other's postures like a bunch of monkeys, but rather than involving manipulation, this reflected their deep-seated camaraderie as friends of many years. When the golem went outside, it quickly offered a hand of support toward Matthew, the newly registered person. The registrant at the concierge explained about the golem, "She will help you through the muddy path you took earlier on the way here. She'll lead you to the main road; there, she will drop you off." During his explanation, Matthew kept glancing at Deathbringer to understand the nuances of the registrant's words through him. He was much more mindful of this since he was a foreigner but especially since he heard that the term 'village' could refer to monster dens as well. Earlier at the registration building, the registrant observed Matthew's expression and thought. Depending on Matthew's next actions, he could be a one of the new adventurers his boss was expecting. In the end, with the monsters growing day by day, more fodder was needed to ensure that the monsters never breached the walls of the city. This was a necessity. The next day, when Matthew came to another village, he began to develop a certain inclination. Simultaneously, his mind began to recall various memories of simulations he had coded. Namely, he would press the "Run" button and watch his creations spur into life, as each agent in his program began to embody the functions he had given them. This moment of observing a village was similar to that moment. It was the inspiration of a creator and level editor that made him almost irrationally excited. He ran to the village and became enamoured with the way their culture manifested. The way their houses aligned with the various pipes circulating through the open canals of the village made him feel so delighted. It was as if he was seeing the agents of his game burst into artificial intelligence life. Basically, he saw the villagers like little tiny characters. The villagers, seeing his stare, began to gossip about him. Even if their communication was largely unsystematic, they did have ideals in place for what to do with travelers and strangers. In short, they wanted to manage him with everything that entailed. Doing away with the background, Matthew greeted one of the villagers, prompting a long discussion. However, instead of an easy, fruitful discussion, the villagers had their own reservations, interests, and concerns, so it took the most sociable of the adventurer group, Marcher, to convince them indirectly to talk. Instead of framing the discussion as a way to get information, Marcher framed it as a way to advice the villagers on how to sell their coffee beans more effectively. Specifically, he told them that selling the beans while they were still yellow and raw was not going to sell well with the clients. To add to this, he asked them: "Do you guys like the yellow? How did it taste?" "Bad," one of the leading villagers said. Marcher nodded. "Yes, so if the beans itself taste bad, why should you think that turning it into coffee would make it taste good? There's a difference in taste. So it's not going to work really if you guys sell it in yellow. Red is the only way to go, because it's sweet that way. The clients like that." Instead of saying yes with submission, the two leading villagers opted to stay silent, seeing that they were wrong in this matter. However, their silence was telling enough. As a result, Marcher relaxed and returned to his place among the adventurers. For context, Marcher procured connections with numerous people, and he was knowledgeable about the coffee process, business, and market. As a mere spectator, Matthew only stood still like a model waiting for her chauffeur, while the other adventurers, including Deathbringer, interacted with the village children in a engaging way. To Matthew, they were just background numbers in a research paper concerning children, but to the adventurers, the children were smaller versions of themselves, because they were still in touch with their child selves as what was typical of their explorative, curious, and adventurous occupation. They saw potential and a whole world behind those children's eyes, empathy flowing like a broken river dam. But this empathy was more than emotions. It was an understanding of potential growth and how the most effective holistic strategies could extricate this growth from a curious child. In the meantime, Matthew viewed the mountain next to the village and the different groups of trees that looked identifiable now that he was closer. In the distance, earlier, the trees all looked the same, just one green pile of bushy vegetation. But now, it was like looking at segmented aspects of a complex dynamic structure. It scared him to think that the mountain was alive, because it invited interest on a more analytical level. Then, to curb his nervous excitement for study, Matthew turned his in-depth attention toward Deathbringer, but as time passed, he noticed hints of intelligence from the children, while Deathbringer talked casually. It was as if the guise of nonchalance rested upon an even more seemingly sinister systematic rationale: grooming a child to become their best selves. Finally, feeling overwhelmed, Matthew wanted the world to stop, so he focused on the palms of his raised hands. As he focused, he began to recognize where he was. First, the sun shone in a lively manner like a sapient deep vase breathing deep fumes into the mouth of a cat. Second, the ground felt dependable yet soft like a man embracing his child. Third, the sky felt graceful like birds crafting and engraving curved blades with a performative approach. Lastly, hints of the night such as the flames of light marking each household nearby deepened the communal aspect of this small society. This could be compared to fresh charcoals thrown breezily into a furnace. In conclusion, this was the general atmosphere. When looking around him, he couldn't help but appreciate his saviors for saving him. To explore these saviors in detail, they ranged from bright colored skies to those who looked like they had been thrown off a roof or smacked against a ceiling. When it came to their appearances, they were functional and nondescript, and Matthew concerned himself only with pronounced details. Moving forward, several details that came to his mind were the lack of weapons that they held when compared to other adventurers in the vicinity, the excessive complaints of hating traveling, and the way they kept their distance from each other despite the apparent camaraderie in their conversations. When combining these details together, they hinted at a lack of committment to or compatibility with their traveling, combat-ready, and team-based profession. But he didn't want to rely on his assumptions. Hopefully, he was wrong. Meanwhile, the nearby palm trees and their vegetation-covered trunks caught Matthew attention for the rest of the time he was in the city, as did many of the other plants of the environment. And soon, they left the village and returned home to the city. At the city, Matthew entered an inn, using the money he was given, and lay down to sleep. He wondered if the adventurers would abandon and throw him away. This was a perfunctory, sleepy thought, but it was a real concern. Then, the next day, in a meeting at a cafe, Matthew was invited. "Progression," said the healer who had saved him from the goblins days ago. "Have you thought about it?" Her face and demeanor was soft-spoken and mild-mannered, telling nothing about her ambitions. "Is that like a concept or what?" said Matthew, his eyebags a little weighty. "Yes. But if you want, we have levels both in a staircase and in a system." "What?" "Yeah, if you just press your wrist here, and, of course, I'll have to make sure you actually receive it..." She was speaking in a step-by-step voice, tapping Matthew's wrist. "There!" He saw a blue glow emerge from her hand and his wrist. "What happened?" "You got the system level, so now, you can say [System]. And you'll be able to know exactly what your skill set is. Though, I'm afraid you're not actually skilled yet." Matthew pretended to be offended, because he was sure that she misspoke. She continued: "But what I'm saying is that you're still new to this all. So you shouldn't have any spells or skills and whatnot." Matthew slowly spoke with a confused inflection, "Okay...?" "Yeah, yeah, so basically, say [System]." "[System]" After a pregnant pause, Matthew shifted his attention from the middle of his view to the healer. "So what level am I?' "Oh, it's not showing?" "It doesn't show for me." "Uh, that's a problem." She began speaking as if she was thinking out loud. "Is it because you didn't say it right?" "[System]," Matthew repeated, glancing at the neutral expressions of the other adventurers around the healer. He waited for a moment before the healer said, "Nothing?" "Nothing," Matthew confirmed. "W-what the hell is happening?" "It's weird, no?" Matthew assumed that this was not normal. "It's not weird. I mean, yes, it's weird, but why is it happening to you?" "It's not supposed to happen to me?" She interjected, "It's not supposed to happen until you're level 20. Are you level 20?" "No... Maybe?" "Yeah, you're not level 20. So there must be something else." "What... do you think?" "Death, what did you see earlier in the forecast?" "It said that we have several troubles passing us today," said Deathbringer, walking up. "Is it that bad based on the tone?" "No, it was actually optimistic." "Then what?" "I-it could be the broken tulips from the other day in the mission." "Which one?" She sounded frustrated. "Sorry..." She softened her tone. "Which one?" "It was the one with the 'Barkada.'" "If it's that, then I don't see why that should still apply the same mark effect on us right now." "Matthew, do you know about this?" said the healer. "No... Not that I know of?" Matthew said, beginning to frown. "If you don't get this finished, you won't be able to go with us to the dungeon steps." "Dungeon... steps?" "Yeah. There's a dungeon steps nearby. It's just spawned, so we wanted you to come. But now, I'm thinking that it won't be possible today, sorry. It's just that your [System]—Oh, I brought up mine... Closing it... It's just that your system is broken, and we should fix it. But we don't know how. Can you be patient while we ask our friends and contacts about this? You can sit down. I'm going to have a messenger visit the people I know. Don't worry. It will only take a couple days. The messenger will be taking the speed boost. Of course, if you have any questions, just ask Deathbringer. He knows everything I know and more." "Sure!" Matthew said in an optimistic tone to shield himself from the lingering mood. After the healer left, he sheepishly asked Deathbringer what her name was. Deathbringer said, "Sophia." With the adventurers bantering as they carried crates past him, Matthew smiled endearingly. In the meantime, Matthew and the adventurers were headed to a bazaar where they would be retailing vegetable and fruit supplies. After the bazaar retailing ended, Matthew and the adventurers left. Their next destination was a dungeon steps.Chapter 3 - Revelations and Realizations in the Dungeon Steps
Even though he enjoyed how varied his day was, he was happy to see that the adventurers in front of him had stopped to sit and lie down. Particularly, they did this on an upside-down, unfinished canoe under a large tree. To clarify, they were resting since they had been trekking all day through urban streets and the jungle. Moreover, their legs were still a little affected from the past week since they saved and took in Matthew. Meanwhile, Deathbringer looked around, catching Matthew's attention, as children squatted down next to him. As for why this was the case, Matthew didn't know, but he asked. Deathbringer answered, "They're my followers." Flying "WTFs" were bursting around Matthew's head right now. "That's... something..." He thought this situation wasn't logical, but he kept his eyes peeled, though a little bewildered. Deathbringer smiled, a levitating, holographic map appearing in front of him. "You see this?" Matthew nodded with caution, having seen the map before, but he never saw it this close. He pointed humbly, expressing his awe. Taking this gesture as a question, Deathbringer smirked with excitement. "The shapes here are called 'dungeon steps.' That, that, and that is a dungeon flight of steps or staircase, so they're basically objectives... spread all around this map-world. So since the monsters of these steps were dangerous, whoever controlled these dungeons had power in their own regions—the regions they were placed." "What are the rewards?" Matthew asked, thinking of items like crossbows that could be bought repeatedly from villagers with progressing refinement. If dungeons functioned similar to this, then they would be fountations of loot, providing an exclusive, "only-the-strong" path forward. In the meantime, while Matthew and the adventurers were traveling in the wilderness, Sophia, the healer, was busy arranging talks with various people back at the city all around. Indeed, it was during this time that she waited for the messengers involving Matthew's malfunctioning system to arrive, delegating her younger brother to stand outside the cafe where the messengers would arrive. To reproduce Matthew's current circumstances from a combat-focused data view, a list of stats could be drawn. Name: Matthew Cruz Species: Human Age: 25 Skills: None Spells: None / None Vitality: 15 Quests: None Returning to reality, as soon as Matthew and the other adventurers reached the dungeon steps, Matthew wanted to act independently, so he decided to observe and draw his findings as to how he could perform effectively amid the threats mentioned by Deathbringer. These threats included common goblins, skeletons, zombies, and skeletons. However, Matthew wanted to understand whether these threats were the same across all individuals of each species. Basically, he wanted to see if they were all the same, because according to Deathbringer, individual monsters could spawn with hidden, dangerous attributes such as increased speed, strength, and stamina. Furthermore, strange abilities could emerge, sometimes creating 'trouble-maker'-type monsters that invited swift annihilation. From another angle, Deathbringer said that these monsters were essential components of their own ecosystem, so they had to obey the 'monster warden' stationed here. Essentially, this warden ensured that adventurers engaged in sustainable monster hunting. Even with all this assessment, Matthew wanted to address the underlying issues of his predicament. Specifically, he was stuck in a fantasy world, and he wanted to escape out of it. Hopefully, he could get out of this virtual-like bubble and return to his game room back at home. However, no clear option to escape presented itself, so he had to learn how to cope with what was available. In the end, he could not sit down and continue to watch people engage in all of his action. He was tired of things happening so fast. He had to slow down, as he was already in his twenties when the best thing to do was find a stable job. That attitude extended here to this new world. He didn't want to do something risky like engaging in monster fights without at least having insurance or some stable life to return to even if he got badly injured. He was not going to sit here and pretend that he was invincible. If he pushed himself too much and got sick, he might not be able to exploit healing infinitely. So he wanted to be honest here about his limitations. However, part of him was optimistic that this new world would bring new possibilities that he couldn't even dream of. So he focused on managing his emotions and preparing for anything new that might blow his socks off. In the distance, a goblin provided a means for him to analyze something. If he could tear into the goblin analytically, then maybe he could find exactly what he was looking for in this world. However, as he began his cursory glance across the goblin's body, holographic text popped up. Name: Mawkery Species: Goblin Age: 6 Skills: Red Bite Spells: None / None Vitality: 8 Matthew stopped following the adventurers, as they closed in on a group of goblins which included the one he was assessing. "What..." One of the adventurers, Brackern, keen to Matthew's concerns, asked, "Why?" "I can see things on my screen," said Matthew. "I can see words..." "That's, that's good!" said Brackern, his blond hair tasting the wind in spate. "It's finally working, guys." The adventurers celebrated with a smile and a nod, as they raised their blades in hedgehog formation. Coming from multiple directions, the goblins began throwing themselves one by one at the adventurers, their bodies becoming skewered against the adventurers' spears. As soon as the first wave of goblins ran out, they retreated, leaving the adventurers to move forward to press the advantage. However, as soon as the adventurers came close enough, hidden and separated goblin archers shot at the openings that emerged during their advance. This resulted in some casualties, leaving the adventurers weakened morally. As for why the goblins were still confident in their victory, it was because they knew the patterns. But the adventurers had magic up their sleeves. As a consequence of this, costly blasts of magic began flying at the goblin archers, denying them comfortable space, disrupting their onslaught of arrows, and killing some of them. The goblins were afraid that the adventurers had enough magic to kill them all, so they withdrew from the fight. The fight ended in a costly stalemate. Matthew imagined himself threatening the goblin, but he was rightfully nervous. Even if he was self-confident, he wasn't self-important to overseer issues that he had little to no clue about. The underlying reasons for his nervousness reflected his social intelligence. He couldn't magically know everything through interpretation, assumption. and preconceptions. He needed dispassionately shared knowledge from an author who had little to do with those facts. This was the route of an intellectual living in a world not made to revolve around challenging and rewarding them in an artificial manner. "What the hell!" "Arghh! No! No! No!" "Mama! Aaah!" "Fred! Fred...!" The exasperated and extreme voices broke Matthew out of his stasis. The disgusting sound of loss penetrated the air. Matthew stared. "Aaaah! God! Why!" Growling, barking, screaming, wailing, and yelling emerged, as a putrid mix of emotions began to eat up everyone. In contrast, with the help of some received knowledge from the inn regulars from a while ago, Matthew understood these adventurers to some degree. This made it easier for him to empathize with them. However, he would not overextend by falling with them in grief. He was here to work things out. This way, he could make a system, not the [System], but an organized, systematic lifestyle that worked effectively for his goals. This meant that he needed time, space, and resources. So in order to for him to move forward, he had to find out exactly what these grieving adventurers needed. Ultimately, if he couldn't do anything substantial, he would move on and take on new teammates compatible with his objectives. By observing the adventurers, he pinpointed an opening in the form of an adventurer named "Brandon", who was quiet and sitting with his arms resting against his hips. He looked contemplative, though carrying a frown on his fixed face. Sitting down cautiously, Matthew glanced for any reactions from the other adventurers. When he didn't see anything pronounced, he continued. "I'm sorry for your loss." "Yeah," Brandon said. After nodding thrice, Matthew waited for a continuation. When he didn't get any, he glanced around again. When nothing particular happened, he resumed his planned approach. Particularly, he repeated a certain gesture. He would stare at Brandon and break off right before it reached that no-no point. This indicated his interest to hear him speak more. Brandon noticed this and made a slight, brief smile. "I don't remember anymore." "What?" Matthew understood from the tone, but it was more natural to ask. "I don't remember what happened with us and how everything went. Where did it all mean?" Matthew understood a lot from that, so he kept quiet. On a pragmatic level, he knew that Brandon could be a gateway to further interest among the adventurers in Matthew as a more realized member of the group. But this was merely hypothetical at the moment. Brandon continued, "I just liked her, you know. My mom. She would always say that I was mad, you know, for always being so sure of myself. Ha! I thought it was funny, too. But it wasn't... funny... Hehe... I.." He snorted in a depressed manner. "I can't speak right now, sorry." Matthew stopped himself from shrugging and nodded. "Sure, it's fine." Instead of standing up, Matthew waited for the group to stop grieving before he left Brandon. Throughout this wait, he glanced around periodically for an opportunity to arise. However, once the adventurers parted ways, Matthew realized that this group didn't align with his goals, and the effort involved in him helping them grieve would be too much for him emotionally. So this was a perfect time to leave. Before he left, Deathbringer smiled weakly. "I think we're going to take some time off." "Okay," Matthew said. "They're saying we're going to leave for good, but trust me." "Okay. Okay." "It's going to be fine." "Okay." "You can come back again." "Okay." When Matthew left, he returned to the inn where new people and quests were currently. As for the nearby adventurer guild that mainly hosted the quests, this inn served as a subsidary for it. At the inn, Matthew could identify many groups open to accepting "tag-alongs", or independent agents or adventurers who wanted to tag along with them in their quests. To illustrate, these groups numbered eight. Moreover, while most of these groups had two or more slots available, two groups only had one available space left. So he had to hurry. Instead of overthinking, he chose the nearest group, the one where the members wore two complementary colors. These colors were purple for their tunics and yellow for their surcoats. In addition, their surcoats featured their group symbol, a pig wearing a bandana. As soon as he got accepted, Matthew transitioned quickly to the quest where he arrived at a remote forest location where they had to cross a river. In order to cross, they needed a boat; unfortunately, the river didn't have a paddler and a canoe at a hut next to it. So since they didn't really plan for this, they decided that they should return home to hire a paddler. Though, they didn't know how the canoe was going to be carried to the wide river. Ultimately, when they finally got the canoe to the river by carrying it together, they realized that they didn't really need the canoe. To explain, even if the river was strong in some parts, it was shallow, only reaching the waist. As soon as they crossed the river, they got closer to the mountain where certain buffalos roamed. What they had to do was protect them for the whole day. As for why their contractors hired them instead of more permanent guards, they didn't know. In the meantime, they could hang out and give each other pointers on how to deal with threats in their current mountanous environment. The adventurers who recruited Matthew only to tag along distanced themselves from him, leaving him in a helpless situation. Matthew ignored his emotional reaction against the adventurers, deciding to learn by observing his environment. If he could be just a little bit more alert and observant than his peers right now, then he would be able to assuage his concerns about their reliability. In other words, if he was one step ahead of them, he would understand them better. Indeed, Matthew's patience paid off, as he was the first to notice a group of bandits heading by a dangerous, steeper route, using a form of magic to improve their climbing. He alerted the adventurers, saving them ten seconds of time. This saved time enabled them to secure control of the best positions, signalling their advantage in vision and map control. As soon as the fight began, the bandits were quickly eliminated since they were forced to face-check blind spots in order to proceed. Also, they trusted their sneakiness too much. This resulted in their swift defeat. Due to how successful this quest was, the adventurers smiled one by one. As soon as they returned home, Matthew tucked himself inside an inn, and he checked his [System] once again and wondered if his contributions to the fight influenced his stats. Name: Matthew Cruz Species: Human Age: 25 Skills: None Spells: None / None Vitality: 15 Quests: None Nice job rocking that fight! The gods are totally keeping an eye on you! 😇 Your reward? Way more XP than usual—12,000+! "The hell does that even mean—" Name: Matthew Cruz Level: 0 -> 71 Current experience: 433 Species: Human Age: 25 Skills: None Spells: None / None Vitality: 15 Quests: None He burst into excited laughter. It was that satisfaction of finally succeeding after thinking that this entire operation was a loss. This entire world was beating down on him, and he made it out alive without so much of a scratch? He was laughing all the way in relief. This was his victory, and no one could take that away from him. "But this doesn't make sense. Is 71 a high rank? Or is it actually low? And why isn't my [Vitality] moving? I'm worried here. I haven't grown up— Oh, wait, yeah, that doesn't affect. "I hope this isn't a bad thing. What skills do I get in return? How does this work?" Since the [System] stayed quiet, he exhaled tiredly and gave up for today, falling asleep. When he woke up, the daylight scared him for some reason. It was so bright that he briefly couldn't see around the horizon, but when he moved his head, the sun rays moved out of the way enough for him to see some trees and houses. Though, that feeling of infinite expanse made him want to stay inside and process everything. "Why am I here? Who brought me here? Did God bring me here? God, please tell me I'm not crazy. If there's a reason why I'm here, please tell me. I need things to make sense. Things are working out. I'm level 71! Ha! I don't know... Is that enough? Is it enough for me to not go crazy? Am I going to die? I don't even know what it's like to be a child here? I'm like a foreigner stuck in some ancient land with magic. I just can't pretend to know everything, so it should be okay if I sat down here. No one's forcing me." After staying in the inn for several days, he rejoined the purple-and-yellow group of adventurers on another quest, one that involved a dungeon invasion. Matthew, having regained some rejuvenation, felt that he needed some long-term alliances, so he hoped that he could prove himself to them in this upcoming mission. If his 71 levels meant anything, hopefully, he could learn to use a spear faster. As soon as they arrived at the location, Matthew had time to relax, as the adventurers wanted to rest before marching into the dungeon. As for the reason of this, these dungeons could be very deep, wide, and labyrinthine and left little time to rest.Chapter 4 - The Goblin's Challenge: Matthew's Slaying Spree
In the distance, Matthew watched several wild dogs hopping about, their bodies like contorted dancers in a danse macabre. These dogs were relatively normal-looking, but it was the way they moved that made him wince. As the adventurers were resting, Matthew heard them discussing. "We should haul the machinery, but it would be difficult to have it passed under the sight of the guards. Do y'all think that it would be better off being hauled to the storage first?" Matthew still didn't understand, and since the adventurers were more favorable toward him, he asked one of the adventurers who wasn't busy: "What are they talking about?" "Golems," said the adventurer, whose name was Mike. "They haven't been able to get it out of the city because the authorities have been very strict with the movement of golems throughout the region. I heard that the authorities deemed it better to avoid another incident, so that's why they were talking about putting it in a separate storage instead in the meantime because we're being expected to move out by the end of the week." "This week? Incident?" "No, no, I mean two weeks from now... The incident is the one where the goblins died due to a misunderstanding of the golem, remember?" "No, I didn't know. I wasn't living here until relatively recently." "Ah, I see." After listening for a while, Matthew reserved his energy for the mission. Later, when they finally got up and made their way to the dungeon entrance, the adventurers began raising their weapons and moving cautiously. A few steps into the dungeon, they noted the presence of goblin huts to the far left, a group of wild dogs to the right around a corner, and a loose group of giant humanoid deers eating vegetation all around the lush cave, among other minor threats. Ten steps inside the dungeon, they noticed several goblins making their way up a slope toward an artificially created doorway that led to a corridor, several wild dogs glancing between the adventurers and each other, and humanoid deers climbing up the same slope the goblins climbed. Fourteen steps into the dungeon, they triggered a series of events. Namely, the rest of the goblins in the huts went out and began snarling, and several dogs retreated to a darker area. Unrelated to this, humanoid deers unintentionally stood in the way of the doorway where the goblin had entered, blocking it. Since the goblins already had the advantage of location, they immediately reached for their arrows and shot at the adventurers, using their uphill advantage to stunt the adventurers in their movements. However, the adventurers were already in shield formation. Moreover, they were the first to fire, having thrown magical bombardments that pushed the goblins immediately out of their perfect spot. Since the goblins had no way of dealing with artillery, they strategically retreated up the slope toward the doorway. Yet the humanoid deers were blocking it. To make up for this very unlucky situation, the goblins shot arrows at the adventurers; however, the adventurers were so close that blocking the arrows with their shields was straightforward. Because of this, they were able to kill the goblins swiftly and easily, chasing them around the platform preceding the doorway. Mike, the adventurer whom Matthew spoke to earlier, burst into laughter some time after the fight ended. "This is just like what I was telling you, Matthew! The faunthorn did the same thing the golem did!" He paused for a moment, and his tone became solemn. "They were in the middle of a search and rescue operation, so the goblin was trying to save people who got caught in a fire. But the golem of the owner of the building blocked the way, so the goblin died with the people he was trying to save." "Ugh." Matthew supposed that the "faunthorn" was the humanoid deer. "Yeah, it was horrible." "By the way... there was an owner? Was it? What was it? Was it an inn?" "Yeah, it was." "Which one?" "Block & Bed Tavern." "Oh, I thought it was the inn I went to for a second." Matthew rubbed his face, relieving some tension that the earlier fight gave him. After looking at the tired demeanors of the adventurers around him, he realized that he needed to rest. He noticed the adventurers conversing again. "By the way," said an adventurer named Ella, as she cleaned up some of the sticky remains of the goblins and put them in a basket to clean and prepare for selling later, "is Kairo attending today? I was supposed to give something. The... avocado he ordered from Echo." "Ah, okay, sure," said another adventurer named Nova. "Ah... I should... say that he hasn't been talking a lot lately. So I'm not sure if he's going to come, but can you ask... the person who he usually talks to." He gave a knowing chuckle and gesture; though, his tone hinted at underlying discomfort. "Ada, Ella wanted to know if Kairo's gonna be the one handling the flowers today. I know it's not his responsibility, but you know... you did say he wanted to do it right?" "Yeah, he is kind of sick right now he said," Ada said, giving a wincing smile. "I... haven't really talked to him about it after that. So I should talk to him about it, yeah." In the meantime, Matthew didn't understand the context behind what they were saying, but that was the same with most of what he had heard them say during his time with them. Since he was feeling a little uncomfortable, he checked his [System] again. Name: Matthew Cruz Level: 71 Current experience: 433 Species: Human Age: 25 Skills: None Spells: None / None Vitality: 15 Quests: None "Are the goblins really that weak?" Matthew said, getting used to the existence of goblins and seeing them more analytically. "No, no, they're just not being used effectively," said an adventurer named "Prism" after he saw that the others were silent or in the middle of a conversation. "Really?" said Matthew quickly with surprise. "Yeah!" said Prism with sureness. "It's the problem with not really having strategy. If there's strategy, I'm telling you that the goblins... They actually have... Like, there's a lot of things that they can do." "Really?" said Matthew slowly and with intrigue. "Yeah! If you actually see the way they're actually moving, they're very smart in smaller-time movements, but they have no clue about how to orchestrate and... put together something that feels organized and large. They rely a lot on guerilla kind of tactics, so it's not as effective as human armies. And humans have magic of course. We have lots of magic, and goblins are usually on the lesser side of artillery and the way we fight using range. They don't have. They.... only have weapons that they make themselves, so they're very dependent on that and independent. It's... the way they organize in smaller groups that... really determines whether they instantly win a fight or they lose. So they could be compared to a special type of soldier that is very reliant on high-risk, high-reward. They're not very well-rounded, so they're only useful in a given set of situations, given their current level of skill. Of course, it would be a different story if they were given a lot more to work with like skills and other skills that... actually work." "Oh, yeah, about, I actually saw the skill of one of the goblins. It was something like [Redbite] or something." "Yeah, that's a common skill. It actually... Well, it's not so common, so you actually found a good one. Where did you... Was it here?" "No, it was... back there in the steps. The dungeon steps thing." "Ah, yeah, yeah, yeah. I get it, I get it. That's usually where they are a lot stronger. Well, depending on the time of day. So, if it's night, you'll find much more stronger monsters, and that's also when they fight. When it's daytime, they usually rely on monsters that can cope with the fire that... you know, where they burn. They don't really have anything else to work it... I make it sound like they're weak. If you've met goblin tamers, there... they will tell you that it's actually the most strongest thing in the world! It... depends, of course, on the way you handle... your strategy. If you don't have an effective strategy, you... will lose. But if you have an strategy that... accomodates that kind of fighting style, then you will be able to immediately just take over. It's important to, kind of, just get used to goblins. If you don't have a deep, strong understanding of the way they are, then you won't be able to tame or imitate... their strategies. But that's not the point. They don't really have the best strategies. But they do have... They do serve a purpose. It's complicated, I think, so if you find out, I think you're going to study the way... Like, war studies. Or I mean in this case, it would be... goblin studies. But that's really... It's dependent on you. What is the feeling that makes you feel this... makes sense and feels good in... terms of effectiveness. Anyway..." As a result of their conversation, Matthew felt a bottle of experience enter his lungs, a rejuvenative effect yielding a whirl of pops and flashes inside his head. Moreover, the enjoyment of a good conversation made it easier for him to calm down like a mother's embrace. Lastly, having people who were willing to talk to him even if he was inexperienced brought him back to the present instead of wandering off in reflections too much, similar to a friendly tap on the shoulder. This was crucial for his sustained wellbeing and growth. Furthermore, tears of relief began to pour down Matthew's face, but he was able to hide it well. As for the reason, the stress had been too much on him recently, and finding continued success made him feel gratefully surprised. Naturally, his crying action stabilized his emotions and stress levels, acting as an effective counterbalance to combat stress. After crying, Matthew smiled confidently, having addressed his stress smoothly. Moreover, he quickly returned to accompanying the adventurers as they walked home and ate at a cafe in the city, loosening the initial tension between him and them. The next day, Matthew and the adventurers were asked to take on a quest that involved goblins again. But this time, they would be helping goblin workers bring rabbits into their enclosures. This would occur three days per week for 8 weeks, so the quest contractors decided to hire adventurers who could deal with the elements instead of hiring others who were specialized for this job. This came as a consequence of a trending notion that adventurers were the best labor pool because they spent most of their time fighting and traveling, making them more "physically fit" to do menial work than people who spent decades doing only that. Indeed, if the quest involved a slight risk to monster attacks, then the contractors could be considered valid in hiring adventurers instead of specialized individuals. However, they could have hired guards instead. When they arrived at the location, it was much easier to catch the rabbits with a skill called [Taunt], which forced them to attack the skill user. However, the rabbits were still fast, and [Taunt] had limited range. Moreover, the rabbits were smart enough to keep their distance after seeing their fellow rabbits get caught. However, it would still take a long time before they caught all the rabbits, so at the end of the day, they headed home. Matthew was not given too much responsibility, but he was learning the various paths and places since he was forced to walk everywhere. However, Matthew was asked to clean the dirt off a common essential magical farming tool called a "harvesting scepter", removing parts off them in order to clean the dirt inside. Removing and reattaching them was a lengthy process. Having idle time to think from time to time, he wanted to know more about jobs. So even if the goblins looked a little tired and cold, he gave them the benefit of the doubt and asked, "Excuse me, do you think... being a farmer is... easier when you think about other jobs like building, adventuring—like an adventurer—and other professions like... being a trader?" "It's not necessarily a job. More so, it's a life decision, and you need to be prepared. So I think you should consider just choosing whatever you want." Matthew was disappointed to hear a safe answer, so he probed more. "Really? I heard farmers earned more than adventurers." He didn't really think about the Cunningham's Law, but he was applying it out of experience and intuition anyway. "No, no. Adventurers are lucky in many aspects, but you know... it's the effort that counts, and adventurers are really not the type to put in that kind of... quality." This response was more nuanced than a correct answer. It was defensive and likely biased, so Matthew's application of Cunningham's Law failed here. However, Matthew was willing to agree with him: "Yeah, adventurers do rely on some luck, and it can be much more unpredictable than being a farmer. That's the challenge, though." "Not really. I've seen farmers handle elements far worse and sudden than what adventurers do. And I'm not saying adventurers don't fight big, strong monsters. I can't handle that. I really can't. It's just that there's an element of luck that comes into play more when you're an adventurer than when you're a farmer. So basically, the adventurers who've been on the job for a long have been blessed to have that kind of "things working well" kind of situation." "I'd say that adventurers do risk their life though." "No, no, they don't because they win." "W-what do you mean?" Matthew felt that showing a little annoyance was apt. "They 'win' because things work out for them. I'm talking adventurers. True ones. Those who do make it. I'm not saying that new adventurers are not trying or not true adventurers. I'm saying that they win. They win because they... that's just who they are." "I don't understand." "That's the thing. Farmers understand this kind of stuff a lot, and seeing that you're an adventurer, I can see why you might struggle to see what I see. I'm not saying you're dumb. I'm just saying you have limitations." Matthew felt that the goblin's argument was lopsided already, so he concluded the argument with a simple, polite "Okay." The goblin nodded, glancing away. As soon as the adventurers finished, Matthew left with them. Many days later, he remembered his stats, and since it had been his third week in this world, he was given a random quest by the [System]. Quest: Goblin Slaying Spree Objective: Eliminate 5 goblins within the next 50 minutes. Reward: - Experience Points (XP) Boost - Rare Loot Drop Chance Increase - Gold Coins - Exclusive Goblin Slayer Title Matthew responded with a brilliant smile.Chapter 5 - Goblin Slayer's Odyssey: From Poster to Quests and Unraveling Magic
Days ago, as he was traveling around the city on one of his many free days, he noticed a poster on a building that showed a colored drawing of a goblin and words that read: "Kill Goblins, Get Money." The goblin was smirking and holding two knives with his arms crossed. So, since he had spent so much time just exploring, he decided to do something independently and asked the person at the counter inside the building. It was a small house where a guy was combining metal with dead goblin heads and body parts. Matthew's eyes widened briefly. "What's this?" he said. "Have you got goblins?" said the metal guy. "I haven't been getting much recently after they put the tariff on them. It's sad, but most of my clients come from far out. So do you have goblins?" "No. I was wondering exactly about the process—" "Kill goblins, get money. Simple." "Okay. How much?" "Depending on the goblin, let's say I'll give you 1 gold coin for every goblin." "That doesn't sound great." "No, it is. Just look at everyone else. The problem is people don't want to get their hands dirty since I'm a golem maker." "Golem maker? I don't see stone—" "Stone? I don't work with stone. I work with these bodies and turn them into workable golems. It's the same thing really. I just prefer this method because it aligns with my idea that life is reused. It's the cycle of life, my friend. Anyway, have you got goblins to work with?" "No..." "I mean, do you have a playground or something where you hunt right now? If not, I suggest take the path down there toward the big line of forest trees. Yeah, that's the best place to hunt. It has no name right now, but I call it a goblin zone. If you've wondering whether this is true or not, just check it yourself. And once you find out that I'm right, it's my past experience, you know. I used to hunt goblins, but I was never good at combat. It's not preference. I don't like fighting. I don't like killing. I don't like war. It's all too 'ugh' to me. So just check the place, and usually, it's empty. But sometimes, you get lucky 'cause that where goblins like to pass in groups. They go there in many numbers, and it's because of that that I used to really ramp up levels. And that's why I'm so consistent, you know, with my golem-making. I pour it all into this." "Oh, yeah, uh, do you know about that? I didn't want to tell anybody, but since you're a third party, do you know what 71 levels mean?" "Oh, wow, that's almost as much as I got in a year when I was still hunting. What did you do?" "I don't know. I was watched by the gods?" "That's not weird, but why did you get 71 levels?" "I don't know. Maybe, I was given it in a whim?" "I guess so, but seriously, tell your friends. Go hunt. I need a party that can just... do the hunting for me. It's boring, tiring. And I'd rather just have someone else do it, please." "How haven't you found anyone else?" "They don't want to do hunting if nothing really happens there. It's practically empty for the most part, and I think they just want that kind of shit. It's rarely a good hunting spot, but if you know the schedule of the goblins by heart, you'll catch them. If not, it's a 5-second window. If you're not there by that 5-second window, you're better off catching rabbits." "I am actually." "Well, you're better off... hunting there in the usual 'Beginner's Grounds,' yeah." "What's that?" "The big circle where the adventurers have spots in each part of the circle." "Oh, that. They changed the name I guess." "Um, no. It's just a... veteran thing." "Okay," he said with a growing polite smile that hinted at his suspicion. Indeed, a secret goblin spot where goblins travelled sometimes in groups felt too good to be true. If goblins were that predictable, then adventurers would be hounding that every second of everyday. It didn't make sense unless the golem maker was leading unsuspecting adventurers to a trap, especially considering that he emphasized a specific time window. So he might be selecting this specific time in order to make it easiest for the goblins to ambush. "Ah, okay," the golem maker said. "Either way, just find someone else. Thanks." Days later, when Matthew told his adventurer party about this discussion, they decided to risk it by heading to the place together, considering the time and day specified by the golem maker. The golem maker explained enough to convince the adventurers that it was worth risking. As a result, they travelled to the vicinity of the destination hours and days earlier than the time and day specified. As they neared the destination, the adventurers began placing invisible wards, which granted vision, and magically sweeping the area of enemy wards. Moreover, they communicated constantly to each other regarding bushes, tight corners, and choke points. However, when they realized that their level of preparation was too little for the potential threat they faced, they collaborated with the adventurer guild. Then, the guild, in an official capacity, offered an incentive for adventurer parties who frequented in the morning to join the quest. Several adventurer parties, including that which Deathbringer had joined, met Matthew and his party at a cafe. Matthew approached him and engaged in some light small talk before asking him if he wanted to go outside while the rest were eating. When Deathbringer joined him outside, Matthew said: "Deathbringer, I want to say thanks for saving me." Deathbringer looked down briefly before looking around, a subtle sadness in his face. He chuckled weakly. "It's good that you're doing well." Matthew nodded continuously before he slowed down. "Do you want to join me?" "Uh... it's hard for me to say." Deathbringer offered a brief, weak smile. "Okay, that's alright." As soon as the adventurer parties finished eating, they discussed about their plan before heading to the destination at the exact requested day but hours before the specified time. The wards Matthew's party placed here last time detected two goblins. So the adventurers immediately began placing wards and sweeping the area of enemy wards, reaching farther than last time. Later, they noticed something: a hiding group of goblins. Having been detected, hundreds of goblins attacked them head-on, and Matthew received his first quest. This came after three weeks passed since he came to this world. Quest: Goblin Slaying Spree Objective: Eliminate 5 goblins within the next 50 minutes. Reward: - Experience Points (XP) Boost - Rare Loot Drop Chance Increase - Gold Coins - Exclusive Goblin Slayer Title Matthew responded with a brilliant smile. He used a spear and struck a goblin, his heart pumping, his face terrified, but a smile flapping its wings on his face. Sweet takedown on that goblin! You just earned yourself a cool 1+ XP for that win! 🎉 He, next to shields all over, grabbed a falling goblin and shoved it against the ground, locking it in place. However, he was slow, and the goblin bit and scratched Matthew's body continuously. Before the goblin could kill Matthew, one of the adventurers stabbed a spear against the goblin's neck. Loss Condition: If the player fails to eliminate 5 goblins within the specified time limit of 50 minutes, the quest will be considered failed. Consequences of Failure: The player will not receive the Experience Points (XP) Boost. The Rare Loot Drop Chance Increase will not be granted. Gold Coins promised as a reward will not be given. The Exclusive Goblin Slayer Title will not be earned. Matthew saw the beauty of tens of spells being launched at once, while the goblins shot volleys from a distance. In the crossfire, a hundred goblins died. Since the battle was systematic and organized in the adventurers' favor, not a single adventurer died in this crossfire. Even when this happened, goblins and adventurers outside of the artillery and volley's area of effect continued to fight. Matthew took advantage of the goblins' chaos and confusion, killing four more heavily wounded goblins. Awesome goblin-slaying skills, adventurer! Your relentless assault on those four goblins deserves major kudos. Brace yourself for a whopping 4+ XP—consider it your well-earned reward for triumphing over those mischievous creatures! 🌟 After this battle ended and the adventurers had time to clean up, rest, and discuss the distribution of profits, the golem maker who started this whole fiasco was brought into question and executed. In the meantime, Matthew noticed his body growing more fit as time passed, especially considering how weak and exhausted he felt. He couldn't move around much for the next week, so he rested. Thus, he didn't receive payment for the rabbit quest. A week later, he immediately contacted 6 adventurers from the several parties that had collaborated with the goblin quest. He met them and discussed about personal lives, but soon, the topics shifted to their goals and challenges. When Matthew discovered that one of the adventurers needed help managing a goblin worker shop, he offered himself for the job. Before he began working there, he was told that they needed a specialist in handling employee relations. It was a complicated role, but Matthew's past experiences and knowledge on Earth equipped him for this job. As soon as they accepted him, he earned much more than he did as an adventurer, and soon, he could hire an adventurer to kill goblins for him. However, since he had certain buffs on him, a week after he got his new job, he joined a quest with his party. But first, he assessed the rewards he got for the goblin quest. 🏆 Quest Completed: Goblin Slaying Spree Congratulations, brave adventurer! Your relentless efforts in the Goblin Slaying Spree have triumphed, marking a significant achievement on your journey. 🎯 Objective Achieved: - Eliminated 5 goblins within the allotted 50 minutes. 🎁 Rewards Earned: - Experience Points (XP) Boost: Your dedication in the Goblin Slaying Spree has earned you 100 valuable experience, boosting your progression on the path to mastery. - Rare Loot Drop Chance Increase: Your prowess in goblin elimination has attracted the favor of fortune. Your chances of obtaining rare and valuable loot have now significantly risen. Gold Coins: A well-deserved bounty of 5 gold coins for your successful goblin hunting spree. Spend them wisely on your continued adventures. - Exclusive Goblin Slayer Title: With your outstanding performance, you've earned the prestigious title of "Goblin Slayer." Display it proudly, as it symbolizes your expertise in eradicating these menacing creatures. Your bravery and skill have not only made the realm safer but have also brought you recognition and rewards. May your future quests be as successful as this Goblin Slaying Spree! 🔔 Notification: Your achievement in the Goblin Slaying Spree has been acknowledged across the realm. Fellow adventurers and NPCs alike now recognize your prowess as a formidable Goblin Slayer. Your reputation as a skilled warrior is on the rise! And he checked his stats. Name: Matthew Cruz Level: 71 -> 72 Current experience: 66 Species: Human Age: 25 Skills: None Spells: None / None Vitality: 15 Quests: None Titles: [Goblin Slayer] Also, he learned from his conversation with the 6 adventurers that levels could be exchanged for weapon, tool, and armor enchantments and repairs. When he met his party, he arranged a discussion with them about his contributions and potential. He explained one significant concern: the reason he was slow to intergrate well enough to understand levels and other related essentials was because of several problems. One, his displacement was significant initially. Two, he didn't spend enough time with his first adventurer party to become tenured, and the sudden switch to a new one was disorienting, since many plans were abandoned in the first one. Three, he was naturally being expected to contribute as well as someone who grew up in this city did, so it was very stressful, even if the quests could be considered relatively easy. He mentioned his new stats, title, level, and [Vitality], so he wanted to invest and risk his personal information being leaked to gain their trust. So the adventurers offered suggestions. Tournament, training, and joining the army were three suggestions that got his attention, because they entailed a more challenging life filled with constant combat stress. Living life as a lowly adventurer entering dungeons and seizing control of various minor locations from monsters sounded safer and more rewarding. When Matthew said that adventuring was the only option in his mind at the moment, the adventurers educated him on spells and skills before they moved on toward the quest. "If you want to know our spells in detail," said one of the adventurers, Nova, "you should sign this magical contract not to share it to others outside this party. This agreement also will come with a new set of clothes for you to wear, that being our lavender-purple and mustard-yellow theme. I should also mention that there are a lot of things you need more besides this, but this is good enough. The reason for that is because you've been very patient, and we're glad that you came to us to talk. Yeah, basically. That's something I've been saying for a while now to... Ella and Ada. They've been talking about... They've been concerned that you wouldn't be handle it since you've been pushing yourself. So I'm glad that you aren't feeling too uncomfortable with us. So thanks... or welcome... in other words." Nova gestured to Ella for her to speak next. "Yeah, basically what he said," said Ella. "I know... I know it's weird that, especially with what happened"—she chuckled politely—" with Jayce and Richard." She glanced at Nova and the other adventurers knowingly. "They haven't been able to do it like you. You've been very committed, really." She furrowed her brows in emphasis. "Do I have potential?" Matthew said in a perfunctory tone. "Yeah, you have potential, I can see it. You have potential. You've been working, so it's... fair that we... You can ask... any questions, as long as it's within our capabilities, yes." "Okay." He signed the magical contract Ella handed him after he read it. "What are your spells? Can I see your stats somehow?" "Yes, we can share with you. Of course, you cannot see our stats unless you have [Identify]. That's obvious, but I'm guessing that since you're asking about spells... you don't know. So you can easily use [Identify] on goblins without really thinking about or even the word [Identify]... Anyway... here it is." Name: Ella Shadowblade Level: 10 Current experience: 25 Species: Human Age: 28 Skills: [Whispering Breezes], [Glimmering Spark], [Mirthful Tinkling], [Fleeting Shadow] Spells: None / None Vitality: 30 Quests: None Titles: [Whisperer of Elms], [Arcane Trinket Tracker], [Realm Drifter's Scribe] Matthew stared, his eyes serious, putting his hand against his mouth, his nails pressing his lower lip. Since he had been mostly putting off his thoughts for the meantime to focus on physical challenges and following his party, he realized that this was the best time to return to an analytical and systematic approach. To execute this approach, he would need to comprehend the world on a systematic level. This meant that he had to lay down all the groundwork first in terms of the various building blocks of society. Specifically, anything related to magic concerned him, since he already had a grasp of society based on Earth. To phrase it differently, it was the nuances of magic and they impacted society that eluded him. To lay out the groundwork, he considered the basis of spells and how they were summoned. He didn't need the science of their origin, but he wanted to know the science of how they were used by various actors and in diverse situations. So he remembered his first encounter with magic, that being the healing that saved him from death. If he could count the number of seconds it took for magic to heal him and the pattern it followed, his Earth knowledge might point him to something significant. This was the first step, so he contacted Deathbringer through two adventurers he knew from his party. After getting into contact with him, he asked about the healer who had saved him, Sophia, and how he could find her. Deathbringer then guided him to Sophia. From there, he inquired into her particular experience with healing and learned two. One, he learned that in battle, it took usually 30 seconds to two minutes to heal someone, depending on the extent of their injuries. Two, he learned that the pattern of healing looked like a timelapse video with skin and tissue appearing suddenly where they were supposed to be. Three, learning how to heal involved a ritual type of quest of being kind to one's enemies. When Sophia finished talking about healing, before she left, she said something that caught his attention: "I haven't forgotten. What you said that day." Matthew ignored that and focused on his next concerns. Now that he learned about healing, he wanted to learn how to heal himself, so he took the next steps to getting the kindness quest Sophia had mentioned. According to Sophia, he had to pick up 200 flowers, 200 leaves, 200 fruits, and 200 vegetables without swearing. As he executed this series of actions, he doubted himself many times. But as soon as he was finished, the [System] finally handed him the kindness quest. Quest: Kindness Unleashed Objective: Embark on a journey to spread kindness throughout the world. Complete the following tasks within the next 60 minutes: - Healing Touch: Offer aid to three injured beings, whether they be mystical creatures, wandering adventurers, or distressed spirits. - Nature's Embrace: Plant seeds of benevolence in three different locations to encourage the growth of vibrant, magical flora. - Melodic Serenity: Use a musical instrument to create a calming melody that resonates through the troubled areas, soothing both creatures and the environment. - Wisdom Sharing: Engage in meaningful conversations with wise entities or beings, exchanging insights and kindness to uplift their spirits. Reward: - Experience Points (XP) Boost for embodying the essence of compassion and empathy. - Rare Loot Drop Chance Increase as a result of the positive energy infused into your being. - Gold Coins bestowed upon you by the grateful entities touched by your acts of kindness. - A mysterious token, imbued with magic, symbolizing your commitment to the cause of spreading goodwill. "My goodness... This is so... I should be surprised, really, but at this point, I don't even know. It is what it is, huh. I've already reached the point where I'm normal with this now." He laughed.Chapter 6 - Strategic Maneuvers: Unraveling the Hobgoblin Menace
In the distance of a bright city, an older man walked the streets, a heavy smile on his face. Wherever he walked, he paved the way for future generations, and his dreams would outlast him. But that was life. "How long has it been?" he said, reflecting through thousands of memories. The bitterness that came from the pains of the past and the weakness he experienced now combined, but they were counterbalanced by the beauty and times of joy he experienced throughout his life. It was like swallowing the sweetest drink in the company of over a thousand friends, accompanied by the destruction of worlds in the background. In short, days and years become dusty carpets through art. And soon enough, that art would be emulated by those who didn't know the context behind it. That process repeated itself until the memories symbolizes by that very simple art piece disappeared and faded away, having their impact resting through dirt and earth. Gone were the days of old. To everyone else, he would remain a background character forever more, even if he might have been somebody at one point. Matthew passed by him, only sparing him a brief look, before he turned around and glanced at the man again. "Excuse me, my name is Matthew. I work as an adventurer part time, but I mainly work in employee relations. Anyway, I wanted to ask if there was anything you'd like to see fixed or... improved?" "Everything is good enough," said the older man, "but if you want things to get better, you can try that tree." "What?" "That tree could be helped by just letting it be." "What... But maybe the tree needs pruning or something?" "No, just let it be and rest next to it. That's enough." "Okay." He decided to stay next to the tree the whole day, spending 6 hours alternating between stretching, standing around, walking, and sitting on his haunches. Afterwards, he stood up and had a feeling that he completed one of the requirements of his quest. He didn't try to question it too much, since it would be like arguing with a child. That was counterproductive. Instead of arguing with a child, it was best to support their imaginations with a healthy balance of truth and creativity. The obligation of the truth was not to limit or hinder progress. This was why creativity counterbalanced the idea that limitations and impossibilities were set in matter-of-fact stone. So he trusted the quest to guide him to a place that he would never truly understand. But he would try to make sense of it on his own level as effectively as possible. As soon as he completed the kindness quest, he headed straight to Deathbringer, Deathbringer gave him some advice on how to proceed, reflecting on previous battles with goblins. "Now, I'm an adventurer, not a team leader. So if you're going to ask for how to win, better ask Michel. She was the closest to our former late leader." Matthew pressed him for advice, asking specific questions: "What are the strategies often used to fight goblins?" "It depends. Depending on the goblin community, there are different strategies to beating them. It also depends on how skilled they are in fighting or how good they are at strategy. If they're bad at strategy, then abuse that by taking high-risk, high-reward moves that wouldn't work against more decently strategic goblins. It's a matter of gauging their level of skill in fighting and strategy and the type of community they grew up in." Incidentally, part of Matthew wanted to be snarky and say: "Makes sense. But why the hell are you saying this?" However, he was not that type of person, since real life was not about the overly snarky, wry, and witty persona. Often times, just being a normal human being with social skills instead of coming across as antagonistic and dismissive was more effective. As a whole, curbing certain sides of himself and promoting others depending on the situation was essential to his pragmatic approach. To explore this idea further, the best adventurers knew to stop fighting and back off instead of overextending due to greed or ego, even if backing off required being treated as the weaker side and being humiliated to maintain a specific rational strategy, sometimes involving looking weak when one was strong. Similarly, learning to communicate through silence when communicating through speaking was ineffective determined success in the long-term. Moreover, listening to others didn't just involve repeating insincere yesses like a yes man, as it involved appropriating what someone else said and echoing it with added nuance, whether it be that of disagreement or agreement. To sum, integrating strategic thinking, humility, adaptability, and effective communication were key elements in achieving success in navigating complex situations. After finishing up talking with Deathbringer, he came to the cottage of a person named "Michel." "Hello?" said Matthew, having traveled uphill for an hour before he arrived. Michel opened the door. "Matt, I'm surprised you thought I was home." "He told me about your new rule." "Oh, oh, I see." "Why didn't you contact me? I haven't heard from you at all until now. Busy? Did Sophia bully you into funding her coffee farm project?" She laughed. "I'm sorry. I was just getting used to surviving and adapting to my new circumstances in this city." "Okay, that's fine, as long as you're good, but tell me. Did Deathbringer tell you about me? He hasn't talked to me either, and I'm wondering whether he's leaving for good." "He's in a new group." "Oh, so did Deathbringer tell you to come here for questions?" "Yeah, something like that." "I had a feeling." She grinned toothily. "He was the closest to you. I saw." "Yeah." "Why don't you want to come in? Come on, sit down. I haven't forgotten your promise to atone for us saving you. I still remember you crying." "...Hey..." Matthew was embarrassed. "Have you visited Sophia already?" "No. Yes. She helped me learn healing." "Really? That's good, that's good. So can you heal this?" She showed a very large black spot on her arm. "What!" "It's fine, it's fine. Just heal it. I got it today, and I think it's dangerous." After Matthew healed it, Michel stared at him and smiled for ten seconds, causing Matthew to glance away. "How are you?" she said. "I don't think you're okay, are you?" "I wasn't... But I think I'm fine now—" "Good!" Michel gave a thumbs-up with a manly proud smile. Matthew brought her to his level of seriousness. "Was that the reason... you decided to have that rule about not going outside?" "What?" "The..." Matthew pointed to his arm, referring to the black thing that was on her arm earlier. "No, it was because of that." She was referring to the death of many of her fellow adventurer members. "Ah..." "It's about time that you leave because I'm sick. I'm actually not okay, and I haven't been taking time to take care of myself until now. I was busy helping the rest of the group move on, but to be honest, I'm not okay. I am not... okay." Matthew nodded in understand and left, heading to meet the six adventurers that he contacted earlier. He managed to fit all the meetings in a day because he had the funding to use fast giant lizards to travel. The reason it all had to be all on one day was because he only had days before his third quest, and he wanted to be ready. When he met his adventurer contacts, he convinced them to collaborate on a job. This was easy since he was already on very good terms with one of these adventurers, who was his co-worker at the goblin worker shop. The other adventurers were also on good terms due to Matthew's past willingness to listen to them about their personal struggles, goals, and challenges and share his helpful thoughts. Indeed, his experience on Earth with teams and college requirements made it easier for him to connect to people faster on a personal level. As for the job, it related to compiling information from his written notes and discussing them in detail for the next week. This would prepare him for the "exam" of taking on his second [System] quest. Afterwards, he turned to his adventurer party and summarized what he had discussed during the day. Fishing for their valuable feedback, advice, and different viewpoints was his goal here. In the event that his second upcoming quest was revealed to be too difficult, they were his first responders. On the day that his quest came, it felt as if the sounds of heaven graced the earth, releasing fumes of negative energy forming a figure in the distant fog. This figure soon became clear. Quest: Hobgoblin Menace Objective: Hunt down and eliminate the hobgoblin named "Mawkery" within the next 72 hours, as he poses a serious threat. He has mastered the art of blending in with human society and has already claimed the lives of several warlords. Reward: Experience Points (XP) Boost Increased Chance of Rare Loot Drops Gold Coins Exclusive Hobgoblin Slayer Title Speaking of which, meanwhile, far away, Mawkery was standing among a group of bandits behind a giant bandit leader who barked at a group of adventurers. Moments later, he killed the leader from behind and distanced himself toward the adventurers. Earlier, during the barking confrontation, he killed one of the remote bandits, appropriated his hood and accessories, and sneaked into the group from behind, and blended among them, his secretive clothing having hidden most of his green skin. Returning to Matthew, he laughed at the time limit of 72 hours. "This is great," he said sarcastically before he turned serious. "Oh my gosh..." "I didn't... I didn't know..." He stared at the wall of his inn room for a few seconds. "Why!" he whispered. "Why! I don't... I don't... I don't..." He sneezed before he lowered his shoulders and looked down. He looked up, rubbed his mouth and chin, and began sliding his upper teeth against one nail. Seated, he lowered his arms and pressed them against his stomach, bending downward, clasping his hands together. "I don't know..." He chuckled softly. When he refocused on the sun, he thought for a moment. As time passed, he remembered memories from Earth. In the end, he felt a sense of confidence knowing that he lived fulfilled on Earth. "I won! I won... I... won..." However, he began to feel a blending of emotions. "I can't be here... I can't be here!" His voice was a whisper, but he was serious. After idling sleepily for numerous minutes, he lay down. Since he had been pushing himself so much this past week, it was already 5 AM when he fell asleep with satisfaction. When he woke up, he got up quickly and presumed that 8 hours had passed since he fell asleep. However, he lay back down again because he was still sleepy. It took ten minutes before he went outside. Outside, Matthew already knew what to do. First, with the help of his adventurer contacts, he gathered crucial information about hobgoblin activities, recent encounters, and frequented locations. Next, he approached locals, compiling rumors and insights that might reveal Mawkery's whereabouts. Third, he analyzed patterns from Mawkery's recent attacks and interviewed survivors, piecing together details about the elusive hobgoblin. Fourth, Matthew sought advice from experts familiar with hobgoblins and their behavior. As information flowed in, Matthew meticulously developed a strategic plan. At the same time, he formed a coalition of many adventurer parties, thanks to the help of the government, as they provided the experts and the promised rewards for completing this Mawkery quest. In order to manage information, he had hired scribes record, transcribe, and organize them, professional writers who could record and transcribe on the fly. Their fees were high, so with the help of leaders of his former adventurer coalition contacted through the six adventurers, he received subsidies from the government for the scribes. Moreover, the government declared that they would lend state scribes so that they could monitor the performance more directly. With the influence of the scribes, Matthew knew well that his prior experience, education, relationships, the urgent quest deadline, and his own personal growth all contributed to him becoming hyper strategic. His systematic information gathering, methodogical planning, and connection harnessing to try and defeat Mawkery reflected this. In conclusion, he was well aware that his resourcefulness and leadership skills had kicked into high gear.Chapter 7 - Decisions and Consequences: Unraveling the Threads of War
"Matthew, what the hell are you doing? Have you been taking care of yourself? What's happening now?" Matthew heard his mother talking to him from afar, but it was only his imagination. Even if he had healing, a part of him was beginning to feel grief. He knew that all this success would give him time to process his emotions more, and it hurt like he was being axed apart by a minotaur. But he was okay now, since he had to keep moving forward. His lack of sleep made it harder for him to think about anything else but his goals. He stared at the horizon, finding that he finally had some power, but he wasn't sure. Something itched at the back of his mind. This ominous feeling reminded him of what he felt before he was transported from Earth to this new world. He couldn't trust that things would work out easily, so he had to hedge the situation. If he won, that would be Plan A. If he lost, then at least he invested in friends that could support him if everything fell apart. He shook his head, sitting down at the back of a giant crowd sitting down in front of a preacher. This preacher was detailing the adventurers about the power that goblins held as threats to human life and why they had to be vanquished. This was different from the pep talk of a general or commander. This suffused murderous zeal into human sponges. In the meantime, in a tent nearby, the king of Matthew's city state watched Mawkery in an orb. "How much did we invest into this?" he said rhetorically, smiling knowingly at his three best soldiers at the corner, while a man with a cautious gait entered the tent. "What did we learn?" "The dragon is flying up ahead," said the man who had entered, rubbing the outer side of his arm, glancing around as if he was analyzing the structure of the tent. "Mawkery has been befriending dragons as well. When did this even happen? It's a good thing we prepared for artillery, so the magic shield should withstand the dragon's onslaught. So please come with me. I shall you the podium where you can cast [Gloomcore]." "Right... so please stand on the podium please. We don't want you repeating that again." "You're right. It's been so lucky this day. I've been having soup twice a day compared to when usually, my stomach would just not allow for that." "Yeah, haha. But seriously, is the Gloomcore seventy percent accurate at least?" "Yes, it has an accuracy rate of 70% as said here. But correct the lens if needed. I've been casting too much spells related to diarhhea lately, hehe." "Enough, Your Majesty." "Right. Let's go..." He took a deep breath and cast the spell [Gloomcore], striking down the dragon in an instant with a beam of magic powered by negative emotion. This beam shifted between the colors violet, black, dark red, and green, ending with white feathery particles. Awesome job slaying that dragon! You've just earned yourself a whopping 12,000 XP! 🐉💥 Keep up the epic victories! The king smirked with his whole face, his wrinkles forming the darkest shadows. Name: King Aethelred III Species: Human Age: ? Skills: ? Spells: ? / ? Vitality: ? Catching the attention of the crowd, he walked back toward his tent and saw Matthew sitting down, but he wasn't informed of his significance, only sparing him a glance. Meanwhile, Matthew covered his face with both hands before he smiled, composed. Based on inference, he immediately noted the surprising bad decision Mawkery made in sending his dragon. Mawkery acted recklessly when he ignored the likely event of the dragon getting killed by the spell of the king or some other spell that the king's mages had prepared. So he wondered if Mawkery secretly hid some condition that became fulfilled on the death of the dragon. He also wondered if external pressures led Mawkery to make this bad decision. Basically, because Mawkery had been consistently strategic and successful, a sudden decision to throw away something as powerful as a dragon was unbelievable to Matthew. Moreover, his concerns were shared by those around him. Though, their solutions were different, as a team of soldiers were already on their way to check the downed dragon. Matthew was now also confused by how straightforward the soldiers were. Therefore, he had to understand exactly what was going on, since the inner workings involved in magic and sociopolitical dynamics could be very complex. If he was left behind in the dust, then he would struggle to cope with situations that required a more nuanced solution. He was lucky to have survived until now, but moving forward required a more adaptable approach. This rested on knowledge and experience, which he lacked, considering that the actions of Mawkery and the soldiers bewildered him. As soon as the soldiers reached the dragon, the dragon exploded, burning the soldiers alive. Matthew was grabbing his head. He wondered why the King decided to let the soldiers approach the dragon in the first place if there was a chance of a counterattack. The King and Mawkery made costly decisions that could have been easily avoided, and Matthew wanted to know why. He shifted his focus to another concern and asked two familiar adventurers next to him: "Why are we not moving?" "What?" said one of the adventurers, Desmond Leroy, his face scarred. "Why are we just watching them?" said Matthew, maintaining his gaze even after Desmond had tilted his head toward him. "We have to be patient. If we're not patient, then we will easily die." "No, but... in this situation, I feel that it would be better if we kept moving and separated to... you know... focus on certain objectives than if we stayed here... in this spot." "Okay, first off, this is not the whole army." "I mean, yeah. I'm just saying that we shouldn't stay here, you know." "Why do you say that?" "Why should we waste time watching the dead dragon when we should be moving?" "The dragon could be holding secrets that might be useful." "Do we need—" "Just watch. Commander Mishop is going to speak." Mishop stared at the adventurers, his gaze passing by Matthew and the two adventurers, and he said: "We should be patient." "See," said Desmond. "We should be strong," continued Mishop. "We should also never forget what matters the most. We should not let this wicked creature take a hold of us." "Is he a preacher?" said Matthew. "He used to be, like Bishop Dan," said Desmond. "But he's been recently replaced by another, so now he's been chosen to be a representative for the adventurers." "Ah, what is that? Representative? "He basically is the middle man between the state and the adventurer parties. He's like an event organizer." "Okay, okay. Will he be troubling—with us?" "Yeah, I heard that he was going to be supporting us with bishop magic." "Ah, that's good then." "How is that different from an guild leader in, like, a guild for adventurers and that?" Desmond was already talking with a group of adventurers, so Matthew couldn't get his answer. He looked over at other nearby adventurers, but they were either busy or looked disinterested and tired. Even if Matthew didn't get the answers he expected, he still learned a lot from Desmond, feeling more at ease with him. Though, from what he saw, Desmond had his own group, and they didn't seem so approachable to let him mingle with them. So he waited for the adventurers to start moving again. Ten hours later, after gazing and listening around and getting a much better idea of the different dynamics and conversations of adventurers, the adventurers were then made to begin marching. This included Matthew, who was still confused why the King had them wait for ten hours if nothing was happening from what he could see. Before this, he was going through the motions, but now that he was idly marching, he could process the past events fully. For one, he remembered a conversation he had with Sophia. Since it was crucial for closure and he trusted Sophia, he told her that he came from another world. He started it off with "Well, um, I see that there's something bothering you." He was referring to Sophia's concerns with goblins and how it was much more difficult for her to visit the village along with Marcher. Sophia replied, "What you said earlier about giving them food and water and other goods is a good idea. We can probably try to get the guild of crafters to consider that. But again, the goblins are not entirely safe-to-be-around. They're considerably problematic when you take into account the fact that they're not... they haven't been... conversational with us since Lepher." Returning to the present, Marcher nodded before he looked at Deathbringer, who was also marching next to him. "They said you should show yourself to the King only after you've proposed the plan to the coalition leaders." "Yeah..." Matthew said, wanting to say more, but he knew that Deathbringer didn't really align with his ideas about handling Mawkery. Even if Matthew was instrumental, many could have done what he did better in terms of gathering information, and many did that already. So, even if he was the earliest to discover Mawkery due to the [System] quest, he was also overlooked to some degree, and that was even more obvious with the way that the coalition leaders were slowing down their support for Matthew and prioritizing the war and pleasing the King. Pleasing the King meant getting more active in the war. Getting more active in the war equated to influence and profits. So he had to keep his head down for now while the established leaders acted, since he was an outsider and a newbie to begin with. Since he could not do anything, he remembered what he said next in the I'm-from-another-world conversation: "Who's Lepher? Anyway, doesn't matter." His used a rhetorical tone. "Who are the goblins again? You know these goblins could be anybody... willing to take what they want, grab what they want." "Yeah," Sophia said, her posture still and extrospective. "And they did that multiple times with Jill's farm" Matthew was sitting down with one leg atop another, his legs crossing, elbows resting on a table, right arm gesturing, left arm massaging and grabbing his hair or supporting the side of his head. His body and head was tilted downward toward the table, but his eyes maintained contact with Sophia. "But what I'm saying is the goal here is that we should at least try to consider everything. What do the goblins want? Instead of assuming what they want, can we send someone well-versed with the goblins." Sophia adjusted her blouse a little with one hand."We already contacted someone from the adventurer guild, but they're not 'open'." Matthew rubbed his forehead and brows with his non-dominant hand. "Okay, but the issue here is that you guys as non-state adventurers is that you guys rely too much on assumptions since you guys don't have all the information already laid down for you as state-sponsored ones would have." Sophia pressed her collarbone, frowning. "Really? 'Cause we've already invested so much." Matthew ran his fingers through his hair and began pressing strands of hair. "I get that you guys prefer to just go with what works, but with these goblins, I really suggest that you guys try at least once to talk with them. "Matt, Matt, Matt," Sophia said simultaneously, leaning forward slightly. Tilting his head widely, Matthew continued unhindered: "I know the prevailing notion that there's nothing that can be done, but that's what they're thinking as well! Don't you think that's what they're thinking as well?" Sophia leaned forward further. "Listen to me! You're not listening. You're not listening." Matthew ran his fingers through his hair at the back. "Yeah?" Sophia paused for a moment and calmed herself, returning to composure. "I tried. It's impossible." "Ha, well, you didn't try hard enough," he said jokingly, offering a way to eliminate the tension between them. "Well, they were hard to kill, and I didn't know what to do," she said, trying to join him. "But I will tell them about this." Matthew brought back the tension. Sophia was staring in silence, having broken eye contact with Matthew. Matthew passed by her, and this topic ended. After grabbing a drink for her, he sat down, gesturing her to sit down as well. When Sophia sat down, they both drank, glancing at each other and at the forest outside through the window of the room. They were in Matthew's cottage, which he bought with the money he earned from his employee relations job. Afterwards, Matthew said with a polite smile, "I came from another world." Sophia then helped him by pointing books to him about teleportation magic. This calmed Matthew and made their communication smoother in the long run. Returning to the present, Matthew noted several golems in the distance, but he had seen many golems already. They reminded him of the golem he met when he registered to visit a village. Even if it's only been around a month ago, he felt like it was so far away, and he never had time to process it. When he did have days of rest, he used it to learn how to cope with the fact that he was no longer at Earth, so he never focused on what happened recently. He knew more about the deep past than what happened a month ago, and that was because life was happening so fast for him to keep up. Even now, he still felt nostalgic and grief. The loss of his family, friends, and life back on Earth was very painful. However, he now wanted to think about what happened a month ago. For one, he remembered the golem and how he saw it while walking around the town on one of his rest days. Since it was too busy, he couldn't speak to it, leaving this as a hole in his heart that he couldn't answer. Second, he remembered the older man he met while doing his kindness quest. On one of his rest days, he talked to him again, and one of the things he said was, "Do you think we'll forge mighty alliances again..." The older man was reflecting on the past, and his nostalgic expression was probably the same one Matthew had right now. The older man said: "I still remember when I was around 25... sailing through the sides of an island. And I made a small place under a hill where I had a wooden door, a furnace, a chest, a bed, and some fishing equipment. I remember the sound of the rain as I hid inside. It was a magical place, and I learned how to be at peace at myself at that time. But that brief moment, though lasting for several hours or days, felt like forever." After several failed attempts at getting the older man to talk about the present, he realized that the older man was stuck in the past, making productive conversation very difficult with him. Returning his focus to the present, Matthew watched several boulders flying above him, as an army of undead reached out from under the earth. "What the hell?" said Matthew, still confident. "This seems too upfront, no?" He noticed that several small dragon-like undead creatures were flying down in a volley formation. "What the hell is that!" screamed an adventurer. The creatures fell, and as soon as they died, they exploded. Matthew ran, his legs dragging along behind him. Many lines of adventurers fell apart, but with several magic spells, the fleeing adventurers were forced to returned to formation. As soon as the undead army hit the adventurers, Matthew saw a familiar adventurer aiming his ice arrow, Marcher, before he was overrun with goblins. "No!" Matthew's face screamed. Further lines of adventurers crashed and burned, and Matthew began to realize a trend with the King and Mawkery's decision-making. The King sent soldiers to advance without precaution, and Mawkery sent exploding creatures. He was stuck in a battle that he didn't control, and even experienced adventurers were being thrown like fodder to the jaws of the pig.Chapter 8 - A Clash of Strategies: Reevaluating Roles and Alliances
Matthew never knew that the King and Mawkery would do this, and all the research and information never suggested this. He wondered if this situation exposed the limits of his skill set. Indeed, time, space, and resources were essential, but he questioned the quest selection of the [System] in pointing him to Mawkery. When the Mawkery quest first came in, he was expecting something easy at first, but as information flowed and tensions ramped up, he began pouring his efforts into teamwork and community, hoping to beat Mawkery by organization and structure. If he could orchestrate a strategic offense, then his chances of success were high. However, the King had his own way of doing things, and it was very headstrong like a love-strung teenager unwilling to bear humiliation. Moreover, Mawkery threw the most obvious and worse attacks, yet the King didn't realize it at all. If the commanders recognized it, then the King was too stubborn to care. In issues of great importance, it didn't make sense that humans in such a high level of power would choose to prioritize expressing their own feelings over the most optimal approach. Yet, it did. Moreover, it didn't make sense that all the available information about Mawkery never pointed out his tendency to use exploding creatures. He wondered if the people who saw Mawkery could use their eyes at all. He hated being given false or incomplete information. With so many issues that weren't his fault, he could only focus on his current skills and resources. Now that he knew how unreliable people and allegedly "first-hand" accounts were, he could make better decisions in the future. At the end of the war, Matthew stared at his broken body that he kept alive with healing. Meanwhile, several adventurers he knew began being pullled along, then placed atop a pile, and soon dragged to a pit. His expression was that of shock, and other survivors shared his downbeat posture and gait. After they were allowed to leave, Matthew returned home. You have failed to hit the hobgoblin menace! That's unfortunate. You lose 10,000 XP! Name: Matthew Cruz Level: 72 -> 41 Current experience: 148 Species: Human Age: 25 Skills: None Spells: None / None Vitality: 15 Quests: None Titles: [Goblin Slayer] He rubbed his forehead. "I don't get it anymore. Why is the [System] forcing me to engage in these quests anyway? What's the logic? I don't get it. I don't get it anymore. Is everything arbitrary at this point? Is the King just emotionally unstable? Is Mawkery just actually bad at war? Why is it that all his enemies make bad decisions that they lost to him? Were they so much worse? Where's the logic here? Why is it that I am the only one who cares about this? Are people just complacent? They don't want to think about making things better and just accept things the way they are? I mean, I come from Earth, I guess. It makes sense. I'm the only one who knows that things could be so much better. If they just read a book, then they would know how to make better decisions. But everyone is so 'ugh' here. It feels like I'm looking at a bunch of squealing acorns or something. Humans are better than this, goddammit! We created spaceships and rockets and shit! I don't get why these people, being people with humanities inside them, are so irrational and 'ugh'! It's like staring at a bunch of dweebs who eat dog shit all day. I don't understand anything anymore, man! Why do people do do?" When he returned to his adventurer party, he decided to take a break, but before he left, they gave him the purple and yellow outfit. Even if they were sentimental and talked long with him, he wasn't really listening. Despite spending more time with this party than with his first one, he didn't want to be stuck doing pity sessions. He wore the gift outfit, deciding on living a slower life for now. Several days later, he learned many things. He learned that the King disbanded the adventurer coalition and laid off its leaders. He wondered if the King and the adventurer guild were overextending treasury funds by employing them in the first place. He also learned that Marcher was confirmed dead along with two others he knew at one point. He decided to go to a schedule meeting he was invited to. The attendees included individuals such as Brackern, Brandon, Deathbringer, Sophia, Michel, Prism, Ella, Ada, Kairo, and Echo. This meeting served to highlight new findings, approaches, concerns, and other relevant topics contributed independently by each participant, keeping everyone on the same page. Also, it was Matthew's ideal playground—communication. Their voices cheery like friends hiding in the dark, their eyes overlooking like flying torch-lit outposts, their mouths quick like beasts rushing under the boards, their camaraderie all-embracing like the movements of time, the attendees engaged in small-talk. As soon as he got wind of everything happening in the adventurer sphere, he found himself roped into another quest that orchestrated the collaboration of 5 adventurer parties. However, this was distinct from a traditional adventurer coalition since this quest was more physically loose and separated. In particular, each adventurer party carried distinct responsibilities along a supply chain–like logistics network. So rather than fighting monsters at their turf, they had to find indirect means of targeting their foes. This included means such as traps, traditional warfare techniques such as trenches and fortifications, and other forms of attacks such as artillery. However, the quest still involved close combat and mobile and flexible intelligence gathering and interaction, though to a lesser degree than the former coalition in which Matthew had participated. For one, his group received several different assignments, including defending a certain border as a facilitator of healing magic. Since healing magic could be activated across multiple healers for more effectiveness, ensuring that the bond that held the healers together remained uninterrupted was paramount. Moreover, Matthew was able to get himself assigned as a healer. In conclusion, since his team would be relevant to his role, he was much more attuned to how he could contribute effectively to cohesion as a healer, making it less stressful for him during training. However, as training went on and he showed a lack of success as a healer, the coalition leaders called him for a discussion about his skills, spells, titles, and equipment. Since he had little to none of these, they resorted to asking him what kind of role he thought he was best at. When Matthew learned of the 'warder' role, he pushed for it. As a result, they reassigned him to the role of a 'warder,' which meant that he would place wards at objectives and replace them if needed. Moreover, during one of the training sessions involving the various adventurer parties, he found himself admiring the various styles in which people fought. Yet, they each played according to their strengths and avoided situations where their weaknesses bared their teeth, transitioning between each other in rapid succession. First, the training sessions focused on reaping the established benefits of each party and their members with each other in a space observed by other parties. However, soon, the training sessions began separating individual adventurers into different teams until each individual was comfortable. Due to this gradualness, new teams were pitted against adventurer parties in disjointed matches. Though, with the guidance of the coalition leaders, they they harnessed this disjointedness, learning how to win from behind and extend a winning lead in different situations. With the amount of foresight the coalition leaders showed, he had faith that this quest was going to be much better handled than how the King did with the Mawkery one. But it could be argued that the King's failure was not that surprising since managing 5 adventurer parties was much easier than a whole army. As soon as the training sessions came to a stop, the coalition leaders gathered everyone as they usually did in the morning for a roll call and prepared to mobilize. When they finally mobilized at the location and finished any hiccups along the way, they first scouted the primary roads and paths for hobgoblins. After finding very many hobgoblins amassing in some roads, they sent out their warders and ward sweepers to the objectives most remote from these roads. After the warders and ward sweepers returned, the main force began to move into these objectives and plant traps, dig trenches and fortifications, and prepare their artillery. They were going to establish control of these free objectives first and its neighboring roads and paths before visiting the objectives that the goblins likely controlled. Naturally, the hobgoblins already knew that the coalition was there, but they were willing to let go of the objectives after they saw how powerful they were. If they overextended themselves, they would lose many more objectives. Now that the coalition had set up, they knew that the main part of the quest was happening now. If they could maintain control of their objectives, then they could soon mobilize reinforcements to take over the hobgoblin objectives. Similarly, the hobgoblins were already calling for reinforcements. In short, a battle between them would soon start. To clarify, the objectives included bridges, dungeons, villages, outposts, roads, hill junctures, and paths that served as bonds between many different places, providing a much faster, safer way to move people and things around. For example, sometimes, only one path allowed passage between two places, because the other paths ran through another foreign-controlled objective that didn't allow easy or cheap passage or any at all. In conclusion, Matthew stared at everything, and he gave a wry smile. Later, as soon as it was his turn to replace a ward that one of the hobgoblins destroyed, he found himself grappling with a spear and aiming it at a hobgoblin alongside other warders. Earlier, the hobgoblin tripped and fell on a trap, giving his warding team the opportunity to take his spear and plunge it straight into the hobgoblin. As the hobgoblin wrestled for control, the warders had already stabbed the hobgoblin in a vital area, bringing it down. Afterwards, Matthew repeatedly exhaled with joy, skipping and throwing his arm up in the air. "Yeah!" he mouthed as he joined the other warders back. "Yeah! Let's go!" The warders echoed his energy, bringing the good news to the ward sweepers. Even if it was a small victory, their ability to take down a hobgoblin reflected their first step in helping out traditionally even if their role entailed a more supportive or utility role. As Matthew and the adventurers continued, magical artillery strikes from the hobgoblins rained down, stripping many areas bare and making them vulnerable to air control. However, the adventurers were swift in bringing out their air force in the form of flying summoned creatures. Moreover, the hobgoblins matched their pace, as their artillery strikes and air deployment were coordinated. At this point, it was an all-out battle between air units that relied on counterpicking between individuals and skill matchups. Meanwhile, on the ground, Matthew and his warding team's contributions in vision control made it for an assassin team. In particular, these assassins sneaked into enemy territory, hid in wait, watched a team of tanks pass by them, and killed the unsuspecting team of archers that passed next a distance behind the tanks. This distance was created because the tanks didn't want the archers tailgating them while they face-checked bushes. However, the assassins exploited this opening. Naturally, while waiting, they did check for invisible enemy wards in the bushes and found none, removing all hesitation. Moreover, they exploited a situational overlap between a hobgoblin team of warders, a team of ward sweepers, and the team of archers. So they finished off the whole company, including the now isolated tanks. It was a smaller company, but it was still very rewarding. All in all, they created a hole on this side of the battle, allowing entry into the objectives. This allowed the rest of the teams, including juggernaut-type teams, vanguards, skirmishers, and divers, to take on the hobgoblins' response to the loss of the company. At the end of the battle, Matthew smirked, his expression zooming through many feelings. In the aftermath, the adventurers gained control of the objectives in the area, forcing the hobgoblins to retreat. Because of the expenses involved, maintaining control over the area was not feasible due to insufficient resources. So they pushed for a win-win alliance between them and the hobgoblins before bitterness started to settled in. This new alliance allowed Matthew to walk alongside hobgoblins in a peaceful setting for the first time. In the repurposed hobgoblin camp, Matthew had a reunion with Deathbringer, Sophia, and other familiar adventurers. He introduced his fellow warders and agreed to eat together. In the background, hobgoblins and adventurers were slowly beginning to acknowledge each other and even discuss about their respective food cultures. However, it was still an awkward start, but those who initiated conversations made use of this opportunity to relax and reignite hopes of returning home. As for the adventurers among them, they excitedly imagined the profits.Chapter 9 - Paths Converge: Bonds, Quests, and Shared Endeavors
Matthew stared at Deathbringer. "How are we managing?" he said. Deathbringer nodded with a weary smile, pressing his hands together. "Fine, we can arrange for a dinner later," he said, "but you're still participating." Matthew hummed, noticing Sophia coming close as she finished speaking with a group of adventurers who then left. "Oh, Sophia, adventuring has been going along nicely, but I wager that you're even better." Sophia stared blankly at the food at the table where everyone was seated before she glanced perfunctorily at Matthew and the rest, her eyes finally resting at Matthew. "What?" she said in a small, meek voice. Excluding Sophia, Matthew glanced at Deathbringer and the rest inquisitively. "Oh, I was talking about adventuring... since y'know, the Blades adventurer group that you guys had is now defunct right." "Oh, yeah..." Sophia smiled with furrowed brows. Even if the first adventurer group that Matthew joined—"the Blades"—was a touchy subject, she didn't feel too bothered that it was Matthew. She felt guilty about Matthew being left out in the aftermath, so she was willing to listen and answer questions if it was him. "The adventurers... yeah, they separated. It's been a while since then, but yeah, we're still considering whether we should have share the loot, since according to Deathbringer, Michel still had the party's treasury funds." "I didn't know that. I visited her, but she had a problem?" "She did? I didn't know. Could it be because of her necromancy?" "Maybe...? I didn't know. I didn't know that she had... necromancy." Their voices were quick, while the rest of the conversations at the table were slow and mostly characterized by short answers. Currently, one of the adventurers was being interviewed for a new role, since he was still a newbie to a certain strategic process. Deathbringer was unrelated to that. It was Ella, Nova, and Echo from his second adventurer party, and the person being interviewed was a damsel named "Treasise." As for the other adventurers present, they were Ada, Kairo, and four others whom Matthew didn't know. Matthew glanced at the others in the group before staring at Sophia and Deathbringer. Because time was of the essence, he jumped to the important questions. "Why did you guys save me?" "We saved you because you have a reason to live, didn't you?" said Deathbringer. "Yeah," echoed Sophia, her face scrunched up as she supported it with her hand in a very casual manner. Moreover, Brandon, a familiar member from Matthew's first adventurer party nodded, his face ethnically light green with a touch of purple from eating a particular magical fruit. His nod was shared by Brackern, another familiar member, who was in the middle of a conversation with his friends. "Yeah, I did. I wanted to explore this world." He gave a default answer he had prepared, but he really did want to see what this world had to say for itself. "Really?" Deathbringer turned around, tapping one of the adventurers sitting down, before he grabbed a cup and placed it back down perfunctorily, his eyes darting and torso twisting with thought. "Really?" he said with a longer intonation. "That's funny because I do remember you saying that you didn't want things or something like that." "Did I? I don't remember." "Oh, I must be mistaken then. Anyway, guys, get this guy some food. He looks deprived of life and good meat." "Good meat," Sophia said while chuckling softly, her eyes and tone low and subdued due to contemplation. "Okay, here you go, Mr. Matthew," said Ella, giving a smile that could have been its brightest. "I want you to hold onto this as well." Showing and handing Matthew several orbs, she strolled to a seat across from him, straddling a chair. "What is it—" "How about..." said Deathbringer simultaneously. "Oh, you first." "What is it that brought you here really, Matthew, besides exploring the world," Ella said, emphasizing "exploring the world" with a wide tone and gesture. "It's the goblins I guess." "Oh, there are no goblins where you live." "That too. We didn't have any monsters at all." "Oh...! That's why you were so confused about the dungeon steps and the System." "Yeah..." His voice dropped to a murmur. "I guess." "Basically, huh?" "Yeah, yeah." "So what made you want to quit?" said Ella, catching the rest of her party's attention. Matthew, being a former member of her party, cringed. "Oh, right... I didn't really want to quit. It's more of a break. I remember telling you guys this, or maybe I forgot." "I suggest you tell us exactly why. They're not too happy about your summatory disappearance. It's like you were taken away by one of our rival groups. Though, that's besides the point. Tell us why you're here and what you plan on doing now that we know that you were a part of my former teammate's group party." "Huh...? Who... was your former—" "Sophia." "Michel?" Matthew said simultaneously. "Oh, that Michel. She's not really the kind of person you expected, no? The last I contacted her, she said that she was trying to summon demon stuff. Don't know why. Don't know when. Don't know how. But she's crazy." Her tone suggested that she was joking, but Matthew wasn't entirely sure. Then, her tone shifted to an obviously light-hearted one. "Blades was a good name, no?" "Yeah, I only learned it today. I thought 'blades' was an alternative term for adventurer party actually." "Really? You're right, we don't turn people into blades just to form a party." She laughed. Matthew grinned politely. Though, for some reason, he felt like something was off. But something was always off in this world. If he started doubting everything and became a cynic, it would be difficult for him to find opportunities. There were opportunities to be gained in optimistic and more cynical thinking. A balance of both would be success. In particular, he judged Michel to be very troublesome and hard to work with. He rated her level of agreeableness to be low. If he had to start working with her, it would be tiresome and a waste of energy. He would get burned out if she started dragging him along with her problems. Anyone that holed themselves up usually had very specific priorities that didn't lend much to collaboration, so they would hook themselves up with the first person they met and make that person their little submissive little toy. Though, that scenario was entirely speculatory and clearly biased. If he wanted to judge her better, he had to keep listening. In the end, he wrapped the discussion up and moved on. Some time after returning home, he found himself admiring a loud adventurer at the guild. The adventurer said: "I am the Tamer! And I am very good at taming goblins! If you want a goblin tamer, that's me!" What Matthew found amusing about her was the fact that she felt the need to announce herself. As soon as group of independent adventurers rallied under the Tamer, an uncommon group with a tamer as their leader formed. And Matthew was in it. He wanted to see what they were going to do. More importantly, since his warding role in the coalition went well, he thought that he could continue this trend in a small party with fresh faces and new opportunities to train himself. During their journey, Tamer showed off her skills and began commanding her goblins to grab coffee berries from a little high up in the trees. If it was a human climbing, the branch would have bent over after half a minute or so. But the goblins' lighter weight made it a piece of cake. To reward them, the tamer made them eat the berries. Usually, Matthew only looked around him and listened during the journeys before quests, but he said: "How does that work? I have never seen that at all." "Yeah, it's what we were taught not to do: use goblins as pets. In fact, if I showed this to my tamer professors, they would kill me probably." "Probably?" "Oh, they would get so mad!" She grabbed a branch for support, but it broke under her weight. "I remember this one time I was just trying to get a drink for one of my bird pets, but they didn't want me to feed them potion juice. You know, the juice before the potion actually becomes the potion. I just wanted to test their will to survive and see if they were as capable as people. You know. I've seen people, especially adventurers, do amazing things, so I thought, 'If animals can hopefully reach that level of human thinking and willpower, then that would be so cool!'" Matthew said with surprise, "Okay?" Moving on, Tamer raised her arms and almost slipped, catching herself with her quick legs. In the process, she splashed mud on her calves and made Matthew halt. Coincidentally, Matthew smiled weakly when he saw Tamer's goblins, who, despite their commonly known robustness, had scars all over their body. His face softening a little more than usual, he smiled at the Tamer, attentive to the subtle reactions of the others present. "What kind of training do you undergo as a tamer?" The Tamer grinned before she demonstrated her skills and spells as a tamer at the quest destination. She raised her arms and cast the skill [Break Barrel], making her goblins haul barrels of holy water at a group of skeletons. Her skill allowed her to make the barrels break by themselves on her command. This way, she could time her holy water attacks to maximum effect. As soon as she finished off a squad of armed skeletons ranging from archers to spearmen, she requested a standing ovation from Matthew and the others. "Now, how did I do?" To Matthew's surprise, she grinned cheerily rather than cheekily. However, while listening, Matthew multitasked to prevent the party from overstaying, walking away to guide Tamer's isolated goblins closer to the party. Moreover, by pushing for another adventurer's suggestion, he contributed to the party's shift of focus to the exit. As soon as they left the cave, a large number of skeletons emerged from the darkness and ran forward, aiming to kill off one of the goblins. They did this to salvage their failed attempt at turning around the fight earlier, which occurred due to Matthew's shrewdness. Lastly, the skeletons failed, immediately retreating. Overall, Matthew's analysis of the dangers this vision-limiting choke point of a cave posed was correct, and his wariness of caves, a product of his Earth knowledge, was one strong reason for this victory. When the quest ended, Matthew noticed that this was a good time to assess his own abilities, considering that even without his wards, he could easily understand a combat situation. Shifting to Tamer, her response to Matthew's tactical skill was that of ignorance. She didn't know what Matthew did, but she was confident that Matthew was reliable. She just trusted her instincts here. This compatibility between her and him encouraged Matthew to take another quest with the party. On their next quest, the party was tasked with protecting a small chest, as the chest was going to be looted by goblins a few minutes from now. When they arrived at the location, a small farm-like enclosure that covered a cave entrance, they prepared by placing down their things, bringing out their spears, and making a simple formation. Since they had the advantage and they only had limited time, this would do. Eventually, the goblins rushed out of the cave, grabbing several weapons on the ground. Even if they were quick, Matthew and his fellow adventurers kept them in place with spears and well-coordinated movements. In the meantime, Matthew viewed several instances of skills and spells being used and paid more informed attention compared to before. One of the adventurers broke the momentum of the spear formation because she had a spell worth casting. Seeing that the goblins were darting around at the end of their spears, she clapped her hands together, creating a shockwave that travelled in a cone in front of her. Goblins hit by the shockwave took magic damage and were briefly silenced, losing their ability to cast spells that required an incantation for the duration. This was her spell [Thunderous Clap]. As soon as the goblins received the hit, they reached out to counterattack, but the spears were in the way. In the end, they retreated, ending the fight with a successful defence. Afterwards, Matthew began wondering whether his affinity with spells could evolve to the point that it resembled the adventurer who cast [Thunderous Clap]. To achieve this goal, he had a discussion with this adventurer, who introduced herself as "Zoey". She was arranging flowers and amulets together because she was going to sell it in the afternoon. Not only that, but she was also a musician, who played the lyre. Furthermore, she had been working as an adventurer for 17 years; however, she restricted herself to the beginner levels, reaping the benefits of a slower life while retaining the fast pace of goblin game. Indeed, the [System] recognized her efforts with the title [Master of the Basics]. Overall, she considered herself a well-rounded individual. Matthew and Tamer learned all this from the discussion. As Matthew and Tamer asked Zoey for details, they soon found themselves talking to each other until Matthew finally got info on Tamer's skills. Tamer had three skills: [Break Barrel], [Marching Tire], and [Remove Clothes]. To explain the two latter ones, [Marching Tire] made it so that her enemies received a 2 second 20% slowing effect, and [Remove Clothes] made it easier for her to remove a specified piece of clothing or set of clothes from her body instantly on command. This only applied to 100% fabrics. So metal armor were excluded, but gambisons were allowed. In particular, her strategy for [Remove Clothes] involved wearing gambison with extra padding enough to restrain her movements partially. But when her enemies came close at the sight of an easy enemy, she used this skill to remove the detachable padding and catch them off guard. Moreover, if needed, she could wait until after the first round of attacks on her torso before she removed the padding to maximize damage mitigation. This was also a good time to use [Marching Tire] to pin them down. After seeing her demonstration of her set of skills, he invited her to a cafe. Once they were there, Matthew asked Tamer: "How did you get your skills and spells? From what I know, I'm supposed to wait until the [System] rewards me one day, and getting the [System] to do that is a personal experience." Looking warily behind her, Tamer said: "No, the best way to get skills is by sinking all your levels into your body through your wrist or by dedicating it to a god." After she saw that he was listening curiously, she continued, "People say it's personal because it's usually a matter of beliefs." Moreover, she took his comfortable demeanor as a sign that they were safe. Matthew rubbed his chin, looking up. "I haven't seen anyone go to church—" "But that's because you only see that side of them. The one that goes outside and hunts monsters. If you saw how they really were, some of them can get very pious. It's a matter of personal beliefs, not something that necessarily conflicts with adventuring, so it's easy to hide one's alliance with the Architecture God." "Ah, okay." Matthew glanced at her face more intently than before. His expression grew suspicious. "Wait a minute. How did you get your spells then? They don't seem too 'architectury.'" "I'm not aligned with Him. I believe in someone else, but yes, your spells can be totally random. But that depends on you. I don't care though." She raised her voice before lowering her voice to normal as if that side of her was a mere theatrical persona. "I am the Tamer! But yeah, what do you believe, I wonder?" Some time after their conversation, rain poured, which reminded Matthew of the older man' explorative story. But this rain was different because it kept pouring and pouring non-stop until floods emerged, settling in the lowest areas. Wishing he had an umbrella, he went to the nearby shops and asked if they had something that could help with the rain. One of the shopkeepers he encountered gave him a handcrafted umbrella. He then asked the man how he made it. After a short conversation between the shopkeeper and another man inside and a few questions for Matthew, he was promptly let in where he was offered a seat on the floor. The shopkeeper was on the floor as well, and he was putting together various ingredients for his next umbrella. As soon as the umbrella-maker finished, Matthew wondered if building, crafting, and inventing were much more easier in this world. He noticed several items placed all around the inside of the shop, bearing symbols of their culture. He then realized that the shopkeeper was likely from a different culture than the adventurers he knew. Since he wanted to see what it meant, he went home, took out a lot of money, and returned to the shop where he handsomely gifted the shopkeeper the money he brought. Even if he couldn't craft, he thought that this man deserved the money. However, he looked annoyed, immediately demonstrating how to make the umbrella again. After a while, Matthew realized something. The man was trying to get him to learn how to make an umbrella. But being mute, he could communicate with his face and body. He didn't realize earlier, but now, he listened and followed his directions, mimicking him until he found himself with an umbrella of his own making. The shopkeeper smiled and celebrated before he lay down, coughing. When Matthew glanced at him with concern, the man smiled and gave a thumbs-up. Matthew stared for a while and then politely left, offering the money to the other person in the room. But they also refused, telling him to leave now. Once he was outside at the door, he looked at his hands briefly before advancing with the intent of contacting his former adventurer parties. Despite the persistent discomfort of the flood and the strong wind and rain, he continued walking. Meanwhile, several adventurers rode flying creatures in the sky, and others blocked the flood water with spherical magic shields. Most people stayed inside, since doors and other openings were often enchanted with water-blocking magic. This gave more freedom for hilly streets. Once Matthew reached his cottage, he took a deep breath, stretched, and washed himself with stored water and with the help of a smaller container that he called a "tabo." It was very relaxing. Naturally, with enough physical comfort and time spent alone and in quiet, Matthew's focus shifted to his existence. In his imaginations, he saw goblins screaming in hell and people crawling for salvation. He saw himself at the tip of a long road in front of a giant fiery devil shaped like a human but with the relevant horns. He imagined himself creating swathes of buildings across the land and placing his name upon each of them, as if thunderous music sung for his name. He imagined himself tearing apart peoples' clothes, which were symbolic of their pride and self-esteem. He wanted to control them and turn them into comprehensible things. He imagined himself screaming and begging for mercy. But his expression was still, and his gaze was longing. His body was postured for contemplation and introspection. But with time, his muscles tensed at irregular intervals around his body with growing speed. Soon, he stood up, sensing the fragility of his own body and the strength of his own will. He thought that this fragility was the reason for his powerful sense of drive. Later, while Michel, the second-in-command of Matthew's first now-defunct adventurer party, was cleaning, she saw a figure outside her window. Michel smiled in response and opened the door where Matthew stood with his hands placed sheepishly in front of himself but taking on an otherwise sturdy posture and expression. "How are you doing lately?" Michel said. "I haven't seen you this buffed up. What did you do?" She used a friendly tone, noting the inviting smell of rose petals wafting around her home. Matthew glanced around right before spending 3 seconds to look her straight in the eyes. Soon, he refocused on her before doing it all over again. "A lot." Incidentally, even if she had a feeling that Matthew was being disingenious with the humility he displayed with his hand placement, she didn't bother asking about it. Overall, Matthew's politeness was a positive trait in her book. Michel put away her broom and dustpan. "Really? Tell me." With the way Matthew looked at his feet as he strolled inside on her invitation, he looked politely measured. Moreover, he paused between each step, so Michel was sure that he was being disingenious. When Matthew finally came inside after only a few seconds, he smiled, and Michel was quick to reciprocate. Matthew began recounting his experiences, starting with his kindness quest. Michel gestured him to a chair where Matthew, after taking a few seconds to resolve his misunderstanding, sat down with his hands on his lap, pressing his lips together shyly. Based on her perspective, Matthew was not this reserved the last time he visited her, but maybe it was because he was in a different head space at the time. After Matthew finished recounting some of his past experiences, Michel asked him, "Do you know anyone that can solve this?" She revealed her right arm, and it was red and pulsing with straight hair-like filaments twitching all around it. Matthew shouted with surprise. When Matthew finally calmed down, he asked her what happened. Michel said that she was a necromancer and that she had no one else to talk about with regard to this. Her isolation made it challenging for her. So she wanted to expose herself to someone she believed had little personal ties to her and her former friends while also being someone she could trust. When Matthew told her to contact a professional, she said that she wanted to see if he found anything that could help her. Matthew said that he could heal her, but she made herself clear that she didn't want to be healed. As soon as Matthew was on board with the idea of helping her manage her right arm, she revealed that she had already contacted a necromaner group. But she wanted one or a few people to know about this before she went to them. This way, if anything happened, at least one person knew. Matthew said that he could help her, so he asked the most relevant question, "Do you have a [System] quest for this?" "I do. I'll show you right now." Quest: Necrotic Restoration Objective: Seek out and retrieve the ancient tome of necrotic remedies hidden within the forbidden catacombs beneath the Old Oak Grove. Within the tome lies the knowledge necessary to stabilize and control the necrotic energy coursing through your right arm. Reward: Mastery of Necrotic Arts: Unlock advanced necromantic techniques and spells, allowing you to harness the power of the undead with greater precision and control. Necrotic Affinity Enhancement: Strengthen your connection to the realm of death, granting you heightened senses and awareness of necrotic energies in your surroundings. Necromancer's Sigil: Receive a mystical sigil imbued with protective enchantments, safeguarding you from harmful necrotic influences and bolstering your magical prowess. Invitation to the Necromancer's Council: Gain recognition and respect among fellow necromancers as a skilled practitioner. Earn the opportunity to join the prestigious Necromancer's Council, where you can share knowledge, seek guidance, and forge alliances with others of your kind. In light of this, Matthew became much more animated, finding something he could benefit from. This meant that it was in his best interests to help her out, making it a win-win situation for the both of them. "This is so good!" If he could find a kindred spirit who actually aligned with his goals and interests in her, then he could stave off the loss of his Earth family, life, and friends and the stress from the torturous hardship he experienced in this world.Chapter 10 - Reflections and Realizations: Facing Moral Dilemmas and Setting New Directions
Matthew stared at Michel, surprised by her disgusted expression. "What?" he said, the excitement in his voice dying down. "Just... nevermind." "What is it?" She looked up and sighed slowly, mouth closed. Before she spoke, she grimaced. "I've been finding it very difficult to keep up with the expectations placed upon me. Despite being a necromancer, I have been allowed to operate under strict adherance to a code. I am currently bound to that code, and basically, this code allows the adventurer brass to use me in helping with traps. I have a passive ability that makes my traps particularly effective, so it's not the most comfortable for me. I have been spending too much of my time idling about trying to concoct a solution. But to no avail. Nonetheless, I have a thirst for goblin blood. So even if it—" "Wait, what? What the hell does that even mean?" "What? I understand that goblin blood itself is not something everyone desires, but I do as a necromancer." "Why are you talking like this? Stop this now." "It is only necessary when it is, and the fact that I care about it so much reflects my humanity." "Can you stop talking..." "If I see another disgusting little goblin, I will kill it and make his eyes turn to blue. All that beauty will fall away, and time will eat up its soul." "What... the fuck!" "That's the truth." "No, no, no!" "You kill goblins. How are you different from me? The end result is the same." She didn't sound so sure at that last part. Matthew pressed his forehead. "Look. Michel, I understand that you're finally opening up to me, and I'm happy you did. But please... don't do this. Don't, don't... let this be who you are. I understand it can be difficult. But we can manage this if you just give me the opportunity. Give yourself the opportunity. You can do it." Michel listened to him the entire time without interrupting him. She was confident that it was already too late for her to pretend that she didn't savor murdering goblins. It was a characteristic of her class, and she couldn't get rid of it. It was like a man realizing he liked men. The good thing was that in this society, killing goblins was not frowned upon. Even enjoying the hunt of goblins was celebrated in culture through symbolism and other forms of communication such as in entertainment. Matthew shook his head. "I only did it because it was necessary." He didn't realize it, but he was echoing Sophia's defence for taking the lives of goblins. He continued, "Okay, let's set the record straight or something. Goblins are bandits, right? So whatever we do, they are a threat to human life and possibly those goblins who live slowly. Not all goblins are bandits I wager." "Yes." "But more than bandits, do they belong in tribes? Do they have their own claimed state and land?" "Yes. They belong to tribes, and they have a confederation of tribes that serves as a state with its own claimed land and border." "Okay, so why are we fighting the goblins? Even more productive: why are the goblins fighting us?" "The goblins we fight are those who have been spawned in this world." "So those who aren't are not?" "What?" "Those who don't fight didn't spawn in this world?" "No. Those who don't fight are those who decided to build their own society instead of killing the first humans they see." "So do these goblins have anything at all to say for themselves? Do we have goblins here in the city?" "Yeah, we do. But they serve as slaves—" "Well, that makes things difficult. If I was a goblin, you know what I'd do? I'd try to get humans to engage with us in dialogue and try to find a way to beat up those goblins who spawn and want to kill humans. But if the goblins are getting enslaved... the peaceful ones... Then, this situation is very complex." "Yeah. I also love goblin blood." "Michel..." The word "no" was written all over Matthew's face. After a long pause, Matthew got up and started stretching. "Why do I have to debate about this? Why do I have to debate whether a goblin life is worth preserving? And why the hell do you guys even hunt anything?" "Monsters. They're a constant threat." "Makes sense. But what doesn't is you guys deciding to kill goblins even after you guys know that they can be befriended." "Not all goblins." "But still. Don't you guys want to see them grow and develop as villagers? Don't you want to see them develop their own culture and technology? Don't you want to share resources and find ways to expand in ways that promote a sense of community and... 'manyness'?" "Maybe. There's been talks of goblins in tournaments." Matthew rubbed his forehead again, looking down. "I'm just a regular guy. But you guys are seriously... Okay, then, let's just say that is normal for you guys. I still don't think it's right. I don't want to be the foreign invader who tries to set things straight according to his beliefs. But damn. Do you guys seriously..." Michel said, "If I can prove to you I can fight well, then you have to trust me." "What? How does that correlate?" "Just trust me." "Damn..." As he stared at Michel's confident expression for a good ten seconds, a smile gradually emerged on Matthew's face, albeit with hints of worry and tension. "Okay... Damn, sure!" As soon as they reached a certain border in the direction of Michel's [System] quest destination, Michel explained that she would be meeting with some of her fellow party members here. Anyway, their destination, Old Oak Grove, waited at the horizon. As soon as they reached Old Oak Grove, Matthew realized that any sign of goblin villages would be obstructed by the thick canopy of the tropical rainforest. Matthew was already getting exhausted, so he rested for a while, feeling a little light-headed. Naturally, traveling and going on quests the whole day was the case. The accumulated stress from engaging in a war that almost left him dead still bothered him. So he was hoping that whatever concerned him on this journey was light-weight because he wouldn't want to lose whatever marbles he had left. How could he cope, knowing that his life was five seconds away from death at any moment? At one point, he was in a persistent state of denial after seeing adventurers succeed left and right. The daily quests made it easy for him to fall into a routine of comfort and stability, making the idea of chaos similar to that of a nightmare that one easily grew out of as the days passed. Instead of getting used to it, his mind was much more sensitive to pain and fear now. But he had new ways to cope with and understand the world around him, empowered. Even if he was sure that he could find the answers to numerous unresolved issues and concerns , his head was too full right now. While he rested, Michel kept her distance from him, prioritizing interacting with and responding to the soldiers and adventurers stationed at the border. However, this distance was space for him. Matthew collected his thoughts, but they never found a sense of integrity. He exhaled gradually, processing the painful tightness of his calves, arms, and back and the itchiness of his hands, legs, and feet. Even if he could magically heal them, he allowed the pain to settle until his mind accepted and understood them in a complete sense. Then, he healed them, praying that he remembered things that made him human—pain, struggle, and ambition. He was free. But that feeling of freedom dissipated after a while, and now he stood up, allowing Michel to come close since he had been huffing and groaning every time she did earlier. This was a very instinctive and emotional reaction to what Michel said earlier. To conclude, his cognitive dissonance manifested as strange, alienating physical behavior. "I can't completely block out myself," he said. "Soon enough, I will have to come out running." Next, Matthew weakly reflected on everything that emerged in his mind throughout the course of fifteen minutes before he truely engaged with Michel in conversation. Previously, he was only giving short answers, often just yesses or nos. "My humanity is bearing on me despite my desires for perfection. Despite my ideals, my human mind and body have limitations." "I have to learn how to accept grief and loss, but my mind is in a rhythm of confusion." In his mind, he fell apart sooner or later, and he further dismantled himself, opening up room for assembly. Earlier, he agreed to go with Michel. Nonetheless, now, he decided to stop and take a break, and Michel approved this. Though, her overall response was simple, so he trusted her to deal with her own issues. In the end, Matthew acknowledged that he had overextended himself today, which left him the emotional and mental wreck he was now. This was the mistake he had avoided successfully with his first adventurer party, but he was a lot more alert and tense during that time. Now, he had flown too close to the sun due to his newfound levels of comfort and stability. In other words, he had struggled to his breaking point, and he had pushed himself to failure. This was his bodybuilding journey. Moving forward, the best way to avoid overextension was a combination of systematic preparation and moderation. So for the time being, he would focus on himself. He decided to go to the most beginner levels where monsters weaker than goblins, such as slimes, rats, bats, kobolds, skeletons, zombies, imps, and spiders, roamed. The tropical rainforest was separated linearly between beginner levels and harder levels; though, the balance often blurred since monsters roamed a lot. But for the most part, the regularity of spawning made it so that monsters just kept to their areas—an ecosystem of spawning. There, he found himself matching up with a slime; however, he found himself unable to kill it. In fact, the slime consumed three spears. Since he was struggling by himself, he thought that it would be a good idea to hire adventurers. Instead of setting up a quest that anyone could take, he thought about hiring specific adventurers. Furthermore, he was sure that he could set parameters or conditions for the type of adventurers his proposed quest would have in mind. This way, he could go through the standard process of setting up accessible quests while satisfying his particular requirements. Once he reached the adventurer guild, he soon learned from the receptionist that it was standard to have quest conditions. However, he had never learned this since only the registered representatives of registered adventurer parties were permitted to view the quest board. So, after putting up a quest, he waited at a cafe, wondering if using the quest board as a way to monitor the activities of adventurers throughout the city could provide him an edge in this world. However, he presumed that if the quest board could be exploited this way, then numerous others were already doing the same. In particular, he knew that the adventurer guild likely sent their intelligence to the noble families presiding over the current large territory. So he had a long way to go before he had any sway in politics, but he wanted to focus on the ideal of the free market system, which meant creating a product or service and selling it. If advancing his skills simply as an adventurer met his needs and expectations and those of society, then he would be content. Speaking of the free market, he remembered the late golem maker who almost got him ambushed and slain by goblins, and he wondered what was his motive behind arranging a trap for unsuspecting adventurers. While waiting for adventurers to take his quest, he began pondering in his cottage where failed drawing attempts of maps littered across the table. "Has it happened before? And why are there no news or reports of missing adventurers? Is it so common for adventurers to die that no reports are made? That's impossible. There's gotta be a report somewhere, considering that the particular ambush location was not so far from the beginner levels. Yet, it's hard to say how frequent the ambushes were held. Did they happen bimonthly or everyday? Everyday is impossible, but maybe rare enough that no one would suspect it to be unnatural. Yet, the golem maker successfully did it long enough that he almost practically let himself get caught by not taking account of the fact that I can easily tell others about the secret hunting location. I don't understand what was the point of doing that. Now, he's executed. Did he make a very bad mistake? Why? There must be some rationale behind making such a big mistake." He never really resolved this issue, but the fact that it happened in front of him, involving him first and foremost. He had to find out exactly the underpinnings of the golem maker if he wanted to create an effective service like a startup that could disrupt the industry and become a giant. Moreover, such an industry giant would provide a basis for his own personal growth as an adventurer and fighter. He saw the golem maker as a precedent or case study for customer profiling, risk assessment, avoiding similar mistakes that compromised long term viability, strategic analysis, and understanding what drove different actors in this society. He stopped for a moment and took a breather. This was only the tip of the iceberg. If he wanted to unravel this society and make it into something akin to his own personal smartphone, then he would have to find a strategy that would be nerfed by developers if it was in a video game. So he visited the place where he met the golem maker.Chapter 11 - Lost in Translation: Seeking Understanding in a Foreign Realm
By detail, the place in which the late golem maker had resided was large, fitting several different compartments that all looked like one small family. If a family did live here, it would feel like foreigners had taken over the city. Moreover, Matthew glimpsed into the various scratchy sides of the shelves and the small dents and dusty specks fomenting allergy-inspired coughs. The cracked cobblestone wall held together by a passively humming magical essence suffused him with a sense of place, warding him from mental fog. This light-bringing moment of contact engaged him with the emotional residues that guided this place's hollowed seats where the buttocks received a mark. In this careful shine, he received the gift of peace. He mindfully waited for his feelings to pass and then alighted mentally upon a platform of analysis. For context, when he arrived at the place, it was abandoned, and kids frolicked outside the cottage. As soon as he arrived, he found himself being stared at accusingly by several passersby. This didn't dissuade him; instead, it made him eager to try. When he reached the door of the cottage, he wanted to be sure his nose was working before he sniffed for any suspicious smell. If he detected a body, he would leave. When he didn't, he moved to the next stage of his investigation: he entered the household. Entering the place was like eating gravel because it was a dark and moody place that could perfectly accomodate a witch or some dark creature of magic. When moving deep inside confirmed that he was safe, he allowed himself to relax. He experienced this feeling of danger, tension, and inappropriate awe for the beauty, mystique, novel excitement, and implicit complexity involved every time he went on quests, walked around the city, or did anything in this world. After all, this was Earth in an alternate universe, albeit hypothetically. Soon enough, he realized that the cottage visit was fruitless, but he did learn that people liked to keep potions. This was a trend he also noticed in Michel's house. For some reason, all of this trends began to eat up at his mind. He mentally retrieved everything from his past on Earth all the way to the past two months to now. He broke and allowed himself to fall to his knees with his forearms resting against the ground. After he spent 45 minutes in that position to contemplate, the [System] recognized his efforts. You've leveled up your wellbeing by diving into the past and crafting a stronger, more authentic version of yourself. 🚀 Way to go, champ! 🌟 Here's 10 XP to boost your progress even further! 💥 "The fuck... When did I become a statistic?" He was serious for a moment before he burst into genuine laughter. "What the hell is me..." He smiled, tears dripping down, before he stared at the dark, seeing two eyes staring back at him. "Oh, fuck." Chills spread throughout his back. He got up and ran, as a disgusting man slid to him briefly. He screamed. The man ate his arm. He slapped the man and kicked, as the man kept at it. He cried hellishly, tinges of pain bursting throughout his body. His neck felt the sharpness of a tooth. He fell to the ground before he plunged a spear above him. He fell unconscious for a moment before he shifted his arm, finding support on the floor. He pushed himself up and supported his whole body, getting up on his feet. When he looked down, he saw the man still on the ground. "The fuck!" He jumped away before he tried to heal himself instinctively. As time passed, he looked where his right arm used to be. It never growed back. The lying man moved. Matthew started barking hilariously, but it was out of terror. He ran outside, and his voice caught wind, as people began walking toward him. He begged, getting the help of an adventurer party. The lying man crawled away, slowing down in front of the wall where he opened a portal with subdued colors. After he entered, the adventurer party entered, finding blood on the ground and bits of Matthew's flesh. It was a good thing they saw the portal or they might report Matthew for lying. Matthew was saved, but he didn't know what he was experiencing. He took a risk and went somewhere not safe, and the streets were strangely safer. He lay down and let his head rest. Too much thinking would ruin him. Soon, the next day came, and his heart pumped, remembering what happened. "This doesn't make sense. This is not orderly or structured. There needs to be a reason why such a creature was in these parts. Can I... I need to ask someone regarding how creatures are spread throughout the region. If I can identify exactly what species that creature was, then good. But, but, but... what the hell am I doing? Is that creature a creature? Or is it a human with a particular set of skills that look like a creature's? I don't know. I'm being assumed to know everything around here. Why is everyone expecting me to understand when the only logic I know is being an adventurer? That's logical to me. Not this... shit!" He drank water before he looked outside the window, vocalizing himself in his inn room more angrily than he had ever done. "Cars don't just hit people. Okay, maybe they do. But is that a car? That? A car? A random creature? Factor or some stupid ass thing! What in the world determines whether a thing carries the characteristics a car holds in terms of death rates? How the hell am I supposed to know that when there's no Internet. I live in the fucking modern day, and all of this is just unknown or unspecific to me. People... please tell me what the hell your rates and numbers are. I need to know the statistics and info and shit! If you guys don't tell me, I will very strictly remind you guys that this is absolutely necessary for my sanity. Why is no one telling me anything! Why the hell am I expected to do everything! Everyone's always busy, and I cannot ask just any question because if I ask basic questions, how long can I keep that up? Who the hell is willing to answer me? They're all giving answers based on things that are naturally confusing or nuanced to people in this world. But for me! For me? I have no clue what the hell is going on, so all your nuanced talks is even more confusing! The basic shit is what I want. Give me the basic rudimentary rudiments! Please! I beg, I beg, I beg. I just need to have all of this together. Why are you guys testing me! Is this a test, God? God, please tell me what the hell am I doing? Why am I here, listening to these people tell me about things that I have no fucking clue about! Am I just supposed to ask what the hell a goblin is? Why do these people assume goblins? Why don't they ask, 'What's their body weight?', 'What's your... life about in scientific terms?', 'What's your parameters with biological properties and stuff?' How the hell am I expected to excel in a world that doesn't tell me what the fuck is going on specifically?" His voiced dropped to a mocking tone. "Oh, just kill this goblin. Use method one. Use method two! Like, that's so easy! But it's not just goblins, is it? It's not just fucking goblins! I have to concern myself with all of your bullshit, and I don't know half whatever's going on in this world. You have to joking with me. Like, seriously! Tell me first what the hell you guys think a car is. Give me a clue as to what the hell you guys think of anything. It's like you guys are so comfortable with things, and you guys assume me to know everything! I don't know what the hell you guys are doing anyway! So please... tell me. Help me someone. I need books. Stuff. A manual. A guide. Not this 'How to kill goblins' advice. No. That's not enough. That's so, so easy. It's the hard part. The hard part... being when all the factors just don't compute. It just doesn't make sense. What's a spell? What are the spells? Oh, your spell is secret? Oh, I guess I assume. But what am I assuming? What are the expected spells! What the hell are the assumed spells! Fireball? Magic blast something? Tell me! I need someone who knows I'm from Earth and is willing to tell me what the hell is going on. Oh, wait, Sophia was willing to talk to me. But I still don't trust her yet. Fuck! I didn't like the fact that she's a healer. It's like I'm being forced to be on her side because whatever happens, she needs to be there. I'm not sure I can trust someone so stable and integrated in this society. How the hell am I supposed to know if I can ask her all my concerns? Okay, that's stupid. You know what? I'll ask her. I'll do it. I was not really thinking or willing to do it, but maybe, she'll tell me everything. Does she even know? From what I can tell, no one even knows what's going on. So I doubt it. I doubt she'll be able to tell me anything I don't know. Or maybe I'm wrong... Of course I'm wrong. Ahh... At this point, I was just feeling weird. Ugh. I got a little bothered by the... stuff. Ah, shit. Okay, if I just go to Sophia, she'll tell me what I need to know... hopefully." When he went to Sophia, she looked friendly and welcoming, so he decided to start with, "You know it's weird." A moment later, when she finally turned to him and asked what, he continued, "I have no idea what's happening." Sophia nodded before stopping midway. Then, she looked up and and raised her brows, going through a mix of emotions such as confusion and suspicion. In the end, she settled with a confused squint and frown. "What... do... you... mean?" "What is it that is going on?" "What?" "Do you know what's going on?" "Yeah... To a certain extent..." "I have no clue what's going on." "Okay?" "Can you tell me what's going on?" "Sure..." "What the hell happened to Michel?" "Uh..." "Don't say you don't know." "It depends." "Okay." "It depends on who you ask, and I haven't been able to talk to her lately—" "Ugh." "I didn't really ask her, and I am not the one who has to check if she's doing anything illegal or anything. I... We don't do that. There's already a system for checking whether adventurers are killing people or doing something really bad." "So I can try... to, you know, put my hopes in that... person." "Okay, to recount from her time in Blades, she wasn't so available. She had other concerns, and she was mostly active during the actual quests when Michael was there." For context, Michael was the former leader of Matthew's first adventurer party. "Brackern?" "What?" "Who's that? "You know him. He was talking to you and showing you the ropes when it came to footwork." "Yeah, he taught me that, but I wasn't really participating that time." "It's fine. The point is that you do know him and have spent time with him, yes?" "Yeah, but I don't know him." "You don't need to know." "I want to know about him." "Why?" "I want to start somewhere." "What makes him so... something that you'd want to ask first... about?" "He was one person that I remember from when, you know, everything happened." "Ugh, you were talking to him. That was you." "Yeah, how... I don't remember..." "I saw. So Brackern is currently twenty...-seven. And he doesn't really have anything to do with the party anymore, like... everyone else. " "That's not... That's just age." "What do you want?" "I want to know his current circumstances, if possible." "I don't know. I didn't really check. Like I said, I'm not the one who checks." "Why?" "Michel was probably the one supposed to, at least, concern with people of the group. But she is not active really." "Okay." "I don't like to talk about this." "Why... Oh." "Yeah. See. You're fine. It's just you need time to think about it... okay... yourself." "I need people to tell me exactly what's going on, though." "That's the thing. I cannot ask others. You're going to have to ask them though. So..." "Okay. I... just want to say thanks." He was thanking her for saving him from death on his first day here in this world. "Right, yeah, that's fine. It's good to see you... but you have to be going because I have to sleep... and clean up... and... everything else... that if you want to know how to do everyday stuff, you can ask me. Or just have me clean your cottage if you want." "You know I have a cottage. That was very recent though." "That's something I only know because of Deathbringer." "I didn't really tell..." "Well, I don't know." For some reason, after the discussion, Matthew felt frustrated. No, he knew why he was frustrated. Sophia didn't give him the answers that he was looking for. He gritted his teeth, his frustration entering his bones. He was becoming an angrier man by the day. If he could just grab the neck of someone and get them to tell him what the hell was going on, then maybe things would work out. But he had money, so he could buy information. That was lateral thinking there. So he went to the guild and tried to ask, using a piece of paper to remember his list of questions. He was told to wait, while the receptionist finished several people's business. In the meantime, he pointed his focus inward. His neurotic state was bothering him. When did he become so irrational? It was the mounting expectations and responsibilities, and he didn't feel compensated with enough information and resources to move forward, resulting in burnout. He knew exactly why, so all he had to do was calm the heck down. But things were going so well. Indeed, it was after the coalition attack against the hobgoblins that he started getting so weird and emotional. To be fair, he achieved so much by participating in several big events and achieving so many things in the last two months. So his current troubled state felt logical in retrospect. But he didn't want to have limitations. He was tired of being tired. His face twitched with anger, and his ambition and worst thoughts flared up. He would become the epitome of grace and beauty. He would eat all of these losers up. He would control them and make them utterly obedient to him. He was tired of their disrespectful prideful attitudes of not telling him what the hell was going on. He would make sure they listened to him next to him. They were all so stupid for not even thinking for one second. His logic counterbalanced his irrational thoughts. But to be fair, he wasn't actively communicating to the two parties about everything he knew and what he didn't understand. So it was obvious why he was frustrated. He presumed that he was a challenge to the parties to deal with as well. A pang of guilt stabbed him, and he realized that he could have been so much better. While rubbing his eye, he stopped and regained his composure as soon as the receptionist gestured that she was ready to take his questions. "I want to know the different types of goblins?" "Different types?" said the receptionist. "You mean different tribes, communities, regions?" "Yeah, yeah..." So he was given a history lesson on goblins that many would consider tedious, but because of that, he felt much better. Having basic historical knowledge made life easier. And the receptionist didn't even make him pay. Matthew thought the man probably pitied him for being so dumb, but he recognized that this perpective was still too extreme. He understood that his thirst, hunger, and lack of sleep contributed to his stress, which impinged upon his cognitive abilities for the meantime. So he decided to eat and drink some water now that he had a source of information—the receptionist at the guild. He smiled at the receptionist before leaving, thanking him again. He ruminated over making sure that he took care of all the various factors that impaired memory, decision-making, problem-solving, processing speed, and managing time and resources effectively. He wrote these down by memory and got to work in brainstorming for ways to improve his health and wellbeing so he wouldn't suddenly lose his rationality. Throughout his time here in this world, he nearly died several times, and he put himself in situations that could have left him dead. He laughed. Maybe, he became crazy after he became tortured on his first day here. Even if he wasn't crazy, all that drive and rapid progress had to have a sugar crash sooner or later. He returned to rationality. After he fell asleep and took a break and worked at his employee relations job for a week, he returned to the receptionist to ask more questions. The receptionist stood straight, his form creating waves of glory behind him. His presence was empowering, and his eyes were fierce like a tiger's. His soul took form as a fluttering cape that he removed and placed down. The fervor in his steps and gestures was overwhelming, grabbing the attention of those in the guild. Matthew didn't realize it before, but he saw it now. "I want to ask more questions about this world." Matthew intentionally added "this world" to gauge the receptionist's reaction. The receptionist didn't look too suspicious, so Matthew continued, "Excuse me, are you busy?" After the receptionist turned his attention to him, he repeated his first question today. "Why do you want to know?" said the receptionist, glancing at the other adventurers in the guild. Yesterday, it was empty, but today, dozens of adventurers lined up to get coffee at the bar inside the guild. Matthew guessed that the receptionist was concerned about the privacy of their discussion. After the receptionist stared for a while, Matthew smiled and said, "I don't know much about this place." The receptionist tilted his head smoothly, having glanced at one adventurer in the guild in particular several times since Matthew started talking. "Then, let's start." He gestured to a woman sitting, drinking, and laughing at a table inside. After confirming to the confused woman, she went and replaced him as receptionist for now. In the meantime, the receptionist whom Matthew had asked went around the counter and sat down at a table, gesturing Matthew to sit across from him. As soon as Matthew sat down, the receptionist smiled with mischievous eyes. "You know why I answered your question yesterday." "Why...?" "Because you looked lost. So I thought you needed someone to talk to before you fell asleep. I didn't know you actually needed that information." "I did?" He wondered if the receptionist meant 'drunk' by 'lost.' When the receptionist stayed silent for his answer, Matthew continued: "Yeah, I didn't know what was going on. I was born yesterday, I guess." He rubbed the back of his hair and looked away, smiling sheepishly. "Well, it's a good thing you're here, because I'm a part of an information management team dedicating to helping clueless people like you." For some reason, despite the professional language, Matthew thought the receptionist's tone had a hint of mockery there at the end. But if he was right, it was most likely in good humor. Due to the receptionist's commanding presence and importance as a reliable source of information to Matthew, he was apprehensive even with his tone of voice now. The receptionist introduced himself as "Rodney Callous." "Can we start?" he said, smiling for a microsecond before he stood up and motioned five people sitting down casually at a four-seat table to come over. When they walked up to Rodney, they side-eyed Matthew up and down. Meanwhile, Matthew tried to straighten himself more than he already was, thinking that he might have been accidentally lying down carelessly without realizing. If he missed the opportunity to gain their approval, he would isolated in his concerns again, so he looked like the very shy, shaky, introverted boy he was as a child.Chapter 12 - The Path to Discovery: Unveiling Magic and Inner Struggles
Accompanied by his usual mix of nervousness and determination, Matthew said, "I want to know about magic." As soon as Rodney let the five people sit down at the nearest table, he explained, "Remember about the different goblin tribes? Now magic this is going to be harder to explain. So you have a skill of your own, right? If not one, then two?" "I don't have any." "That's strange. Five-year-olds get their first skill." Matthew's eyes widened. He realized that it might take being five years in this world for him to get a skill. Rodney continued: "If you don't have your skill, that must mean your growth is delayed somehow. How old did you say you were?" "I didn't say... I'm currently 25." "That's interesting because I'm not entirely sure why your skill is not yet there. But it's probably what I said. So in order for me to show you about skills, I would have to tell you my skill, but that's against policy. We don't share skills. No one does. So I have an idea, albeit a tried and common idea. Let's visit the tournaments. We should be able to identify their skills and ask them about it. I don't know if they'll actually use it since even with the tournaments they can attend, it isn't a definite if they'll use their abilities or not. But we can try and see." "Tournaments?" "Prisoners go there, so if you want to see what real fighters are like, you can start there." "Magic?" "Uh-huh," he said theatrically. "Real magic!" "Why help me?" "You look lost... still." Matthew went through a shift of emotions, mostly negative, but he decided that he wouldn't force his questions too much. He remembered a time when he was burned out because people were so unpredictable to him, and this new world reintroduced that same time of his life. But he resigned himself to patience and for the long-term game. "We scale," he said, remembering his siblings and a game they enjoyed. Now, they were gone. Ferocity faintly gripped his posture, but he continued to sit as though he was a dove or a feather. He smiled. Moments later, Rodney stood up and guided Matthew and the five people to a tournament past the roads and the trees in a remote clearing where many plant-eating animals roamed and avoided them. The tournament didn't take place in a colosseum, but it was open where people could breathe the wind and hear the rustling of the trees a few feet nearby. The fighting happened with a large, transparent magic shield enclosing the contestants, while the spectators watched outside. "This looks more convenient," Matthew said, catching Rodney's side glance. It was the fact that he said "more" that was telling, but Matthew was executing these "telling" actions on purpose to get information indirectly. In the distance, Matthew noticed the brutalist features present in the buildings of the city. He often associated brutalism with dystopias, but for some reason, the warmer colors and textures involved in these buildings gave a lively feel amid the sterile or lifeless implications of brutalism. But what was most prominent and unique about the architecture was the seemingly impractical use of wood. His first assumption was that magic could be used to mitigate or even effectively eliminate the issues of using wood for buildings. In conclusion, the combination of wood and brutalist features took his imagination to a place far removed from anything he had experienced before. He wondered if this clearing, this particular place, was isolated from the rest of the world. He got the feeling that he was in a small village in a middle of nowhere and slowly advancing in terms of strength from this area. In contrast, being in the city looked and felt very urban, so the fast pace and high expectations and burnout associated with it was there. But this place was free from that. It was isolated and freeing like a place where he could focus on gathering his strength on his own pace without any interruptions, disruptions, or expectations. He could grow in power while no one was aware. In short, the area where the tournament was held felt like an idyllic, slow-living, breathable village where he could sit down and do whatever he wanted, stretch and work out, and drink and eat. This place made him feel sleepy, especially now that it was the afternoon. Moreover, he was still in the process of catching up on sleep or paying his "sleep debt" that had accumulated from his many limit-breaking past endeavors. At the three-day tournament, for the most part, it was a bunch of people fighting, but over the course of three days, he identified numerous skills. Moreover, he also heard a bunch of posh teenagers talking about goblins in tournaments. Though, he focused his attention on one of them to start. Surefire Surge (Level 1) Cost: 50 Mana Cooldown: 10 Cast Time: 0.25 Effect Radius: 200 Active: The user erupts in a fiery surge, dealing magic damage to all nearby enemies over 3 seconds. Enemies caught in the surge are burned for additional damage over time. Magic Damage per Second: 28 (20 +20%🔥+5%🪓+5%🪓) Additional Burn Damage: 15.5 (10 +10%🔥+5%🪓+5%🪓) Total Magic Damage: 84 (60 +60%🔥+15%🪓) Enemies burned by Surefire Surge have their armor reduced by 5% for the duration. Matthew found out that the symbols 🔥 and 🪓 referred to ability power and attack damage, respectively. Now that he had a better grasp of fighting and skills, he considered if he could expand his influence by engaging in the merchant selling that he remembered Ella and some of the others engaged in. If he wanted to increase his power and active grasp of this world, then he needed more resources. However, he already had a lot to work in, and he could list them all. To draft a list, his resources at the moment included the receptionist currently helping him; his first adventurer party, particularly Brandon, Brackern, Deathbringer, Sophia, and Michel; his second adventurer party, including Prism, Ella, Ada, Kairo, and Echo; and his current employee relations job; the six adventurers; the inn patrons of Block & Bed Tavern; the Tamer and the other adventurers associated with her; the employees and clients of the goblin worker shop where he worked in employee relations; the adventurer he met before the Mawkery attack, Desmond Leroy, if he was still alive; the knowledge and skills he had gained from his experiences so far as an adventurer, including warding skills and understanding of combat situations; among others. So he was probably overextending himself instead of focusing on what he had momentarily, but he didn't want to miss out on the opportunity that Rodney provided him. He would definitely go back and reunite with everyone, address concerns, and consolidate them to maximize the effectiveness of this network. Anyway, to consolidate previous points, Rodney's focused guidance helped Matthew move past feeling isolated and adrift as the sole outsider, imbuing a greater sense of social connection and community support. His guidance was extremely important for Matthew's development going forward. Furthermore, despite knowing many people in this new world, Matthew was still struggling to find his bearings and make sense of everything. Having so many acquaintances didn't necessarily translate to feeling truly understood or supported. His relationships with the people he already knew were still somewhat superficial. He had not developed a high level of trust or emotional vulnerability with any of them yet. Rodney's neutrality as an outsider to Matthew's personal experiences allowed for a more open exchange. Even brief interactions with understanding strangers could make a big difference when one was feeling lost and overwhelmed. In short, feeling truly seen and understood made all the difference, even from unexpected sources. Rodney continued on this trend with a relieving catch: "Do you want to talk to a skill practitioner, the kind that addresses any concerns of newbies? We have one here, but he's going to cost you. In fact, I'm going to cost you. I know you have money, so if you're willing to pay, then we can move forward. Are you willing to spend your money to break through your current limitations?" Usually, Matthew would be reserved, but he was willing to pay since that was the point of his employee relations job. It was to stabilize growth trends by anchoring them with a secure, reliable income. Plus, having removed that worry weighing on his mind about what Rodney's motivations were for helping him controlled things. It was easier to work with someone with a clear, obvious motive like money than something vague like kindness. Since he didn't know Rodney that well, it was safer and more reliable to be clear more than anything. After some routine clarifications, bargaining, and payment, the recommended skill practitioner began teaching Matthew about specific skills and trends in how skills were used, mentioning different environments and how various skills could be adapted for them. The practitioner smiled. "[Basic Unravel]" he said, casting his skill on Matthew. Matthew stared, feeling the stars align as hundreds of words and symbols entered his mind one by one in quick succession. His mind flew in many different directions, representing his confusion since he entered this world almost three months ago, before settling in clarity. Even though the skill belonged to the practitioner, [Basic Unravel] gave Matthew the knowledge that doing good deeds could lead to acquired skills and showed various real montages of people getting skills from doing good deeds. Matthew fell to the ground, as a surge of confidence filled his being. This surge stemmed from the empowering feeling of seeing tangible and concrete stories of people getting skills. This was contrasted by the mysterious and abstract nature of his experiences during the past several days. Moreover, [Basic Unravel] began the second stage, showing him montages of people using skills. In particular, it showed a basic skill that involved a three-pronged strike with shadowy forms attacking simultaneously with the caster. Second, it showed another basic skill that a dash that taunted enemy monsters. This dash involved passing through the targets. Third, it showed an 'ultimate' skill where the user charged unstoppably for a long distance, pushing or trampling over enemies, before stopping at a wall or after hitting a heavy enough enemy. Having collasped from the intense feelings running through him, Matthew began laughing with euphoria. Rodney began cocking his head up and down, his eyes wide and sternly confused. "That's weird," said the practitioner. "Is he...?" "Maybe," Rodney said, his baffled expression in stark contrast with his stationary, cross-armed posture. Matthew saw the [System] beginning to show a variety of different skill options in holographic cards. In the meantime, Rodney and the practitioner stared at him. Some time after Matthew calmed down somewhat, the practitioner began preparing himself to explain about common adventurer career paths and typical progression routes. After Matthew finally stood up, the practitioner explained. He also added that Rodney could share access to training opportunities. "You can couple support skills with more combat ones for a balanced approach," he concluded, entrusting Matthew to Rodney. Subsequently, Rodney said that if Matthew didn't want to pay for training, he said that books could supplement future training. In addition, with Rodney's cue, his information team told him that they could integrate him with the broader cohort of up-and-coming adventurers that they personally sponsored. They emphasized in casual terms that social support was important during a difficult adjustment. Ultimately, Matthew had been speechless for a while, as he still had the [System] showing him eight skill options to choose from. He chewed over which skill would help him engage and disengage or avoid interaction with the enemy the most while still doing tons of damage. He only got a slap on the wrist in the form of a brief disapproving look for having that weird euphoric laughing moment he had earlier. In the end, with this powerup, he might finally start hunting goblins alone. But part of him wanted to capture and control goblins more than anything, so that he could develop them into more permanent security assets. But goblin enslavement was regulated, but he might find a way to characterize it as integration rather than exploitation. Incidentally, Matthew noticed a bunch of kids walking by. They were the kids from the cottage of the late golem maker, the ones who were present when he visited it. Anyway, he remembered that he was in the tournament, so he paid attention to the crowds before hearing their cheers grow in power until he couldn't handle it anymore. He left the scene, shepherding Rodney and his team toward a cafe the next day. As soon as he reached the cafe, they thanked him for the coffee, and soon, three of Matthew's acquaintances arrived, opening up discussion about the new hobgoblin-human alliance and potential opportunities for merchants. These three were Ella, Nova, and a close friend of Marcher, Marsh Cranberry. Looking at them, Matthew knew that even after everything, he couldn't mold people to his ideals. He couldn't truly force his future child to grow up to be like him. He couldn't force friends and acquaintances to do what he wanted all the time. They were out of his control, and he couldn't force them to open up and become exploitable resources for him. He couldn't easily break them and make them become like slaves. They were going to leave him or stay, depending on their choice. He would have to move on and let go of people, focusing on those who chose to stay. Moreover, he would meet people who'd become his close friends for a few days only, but that was natural and a part of life. He would have to recognize that people were not things he could control. He couldn't constantly check up on people in order to maintain connections with them and expect them to be there always. Not everyone would stay, and not everyone would leave. But time changed people, and sooner or later, even if they didn't leave, it would feel like they did. He couldn't control the world like he wanted, and he would have to focus on his own journey while still relying on his current support network. This was reality. Conversations and laughter filled the air, transitioning Matthew out of his thoughts. He saw the people he was currently with, and he wondered if they would experience things pivotal enough together that he would remember them well many years from now. But for some reason, Matthew couldn't shake the feeling that he wanted to become everything—destabilizing the power landscape and advancing his personal agenda. While thinking, he heard Ella say that one of her adventurer friends was killed in action, which was unfortunately not uncommon. It was rarer to have an adventurer missing in action since they often operated in parties, and parties frequently logged where they were going and their performance with copious detail to prevent parties from taking on missions too hard for them. However, not everything was accounted for, and inevitably, unique monsters and situations would emerge that difficulty accessors couldn't prepare adventurers for. If Matthew showcased his rageful drive now, he would just look immature since effective communication and emotional management were key traits of maturity. However, some situations constructively called for well-managed, almost perfomative rage. Feeling mentally drained, he discovered himself focusing on the food in front of him. It was reminiscient of his favorite home dish, pork sisig. He wondered if he could kill a goblin next time. The time since his last goblin kill was long, and after his recent experiences, he was starting to doubt his capacity for wanton violence. If he could kill before, then he could do it again. But reflection made him confront his underlying feelings, those that he had pushed back to adjust to this new world. If these feelings told him that he didn't want to kill goblins out of explosive guilt, then he could only stop killing them. But he didn't want to let that guilt control him, yet he did want to be human. It was difficult for him to compromise, and ignoring his feelings would only make things worse in the long run, especially considering how irrational he became the last several days. He had to do something. He had to integrate fully into this new world, but his conscience prevented him. Maybe, he could just be in the world, not of this world. However, he had to bear and bury his conscience for now. He told it to shut up. Yet, due to the strain, flashbacks from the time he was tortured and almost killed reappeared in his head, making him hyperventilate for half a second before he took control as usual. Since it was quick and subdued, no one noticed it. Several other flashbacks from his past violent experiences made this brief panic attack repeat. This was more than just a physical reaction. His throat would suddenly beg to be choked until he fell limp. He continued aiming to stomp this reaction, but he only subdued it instead of removing the condition entirely. He hated how fragile his mind was, but he whispered, his right hand shaking briefly, "Slowly but surely." He was well-adapted to dealing with his mental condition, so he could still operate on a rational basis as long as he managed his stress well. This was a glimpse at how he had been problem-solving with the effects of trauma in a systematic manner—an intellectual feat, especially with how he had functioned for so long. He considered himself a lucky man. He met so many people in his life, especially those who would never address problems, so he made it a point to keep his own issues in front of his face. He couldn't pretend for so long. Getting tortured was not a story someone told him. It was his firsthand experience, and during that time, he felt like he wasn't there anymore. It wasn't him anymore. He was God and the euphoria that disjointedly combined with his torturous pain made him want to leap into God's arms. Of course, he had to perform and pretend because if not, he would lose everything. He was a rational man. He would become the man for the job. He had to become everything. He fell apart. Outside, he was still, catatonic-like. He needed to break this trend of weakness and helplessness. So he slowly transitioned his thoughts toward healthy distractions such as food and good company. This broke his spell.Chapter 13 - Overcoming the Struggles of the Mind: Matthew's Path to Greatness
Matthew was notably very sick mentally, but that didn't stop him from achieving great things. Returning to reality, Matthew had intended for Rodney and his team to leave him after the tournament, so that he could focus on going on his solo adventuring to test out his new skill. Though, he hadn't chosen yet. But instead, Rodney expressed that he was willing to keep helping Matthew for now. As a result, Matthew parted ways temporarily with them, and he went to invite his adventurer friends to the cafe tomorrow. But only Ella and Nova agreed to come or actually came. Moreover, The third adventurer, Marsh Cranberry, only followed along. In conclusion, the day after the tournament, he went to the cafe where he met Rodney and his team and the three adventurers. He already thought of ways to incentivize the three adventurers to collaborate with him, so he opened up a discussion about their career and personal goals as he had done with the six adventurers. After conversing for a while, Matthew remembered that they had agreed to show him their skills. However, they had forgotten, and he hadn't reminded them. Overall, the three each provided Matthew with a path forward. First, Ella presented a path toward her stranger skills and titles. Second, Nova suggested going to the dungeon steps since it was a safer way to get loot compared to heading into dungeons. Third, Marsh offered an opportunity to head into a village and visit the bazaar since he was itching for food. When it came to personal career goals, they each had their own. First, Ella was looking for ways to expand her skills through leveling them up by testing herself in various combat situations. So, she was okay with anything as long as it challenged her. If Matthew followed her lead on a quest that was difficult enough but not too difficult, that would satisfy her. Second, Nova had concerns about a coming goblin raid due to covert mobilization in the north, so he wanted to fix that problem first. His goal was staying alert, so he preferred to stand guard. His personal goal was protecting the city as a whole, not leaving even remote parts insufficiently protected. Third, Marsh was focused on selling villager goods as a merchant and a bazaar event organizer. Meanwhile, Matthew noticed a family with kids at the cafe, finding it very reminiscient of Earth. For some reason, he couldn't shake the thought that if he decided to destroy this world, those people would be in the way. He realized that this world was too big to destroy, but magic could be like nukes. These thoughts were almost childish in its simplicity, but he was trying to see assess how all of these families and social structures came together to form the dynamic world he lived in alongside goblins, hobgoblins, and adventurers. Basically, he had to find ways to integrate himself with social structures more and more, diversifying his influences and intelligence sources. If he could develop immersion into a family, then he could understand the more underlying principles and motivators that drove human establishment and decision-making, especially in themes such as goblin handling. This way, he could also develop evidence-backed solutions for more daring issues, expanding the process to a systematic level until he can effectively integrate various individuals within his region of control. He wanted effectively to kill goblins in a system, casting a metaphorical highlight that rendered them actors under his tight stringing. Through this approach, the erection of pockets of control or bridgeheads became natural. He would marshal an army. As he contemplated, self-important, grandiose thoughts like "I am the epitome of grace and beauty!" began to circle in his mind. Recognizing the dangers of this, he focused on calming his power hunger pangs in exchange for rational calm. Truly, torturous grit, or patience, was his friend and guiding light. He stopped. Returning to reality, he took a sip from his deliciously bitter, 4-hour-old black coffee and continued listening to the others at the same table. From across the table, they were making eye contact with him while speaking. Matthew sustained a thoughtful smile. With a casual but polite posture, since he and everyone present started discussing, numerous of his expressive smiles endured, particularly in response to things Nova said and others that two of Rodney's information team members said. To everyone else, he was still the same awesome Matthew, and so he was. Later, they began their journey to the dungeon steps. Before Matthew looked at his skill options, he assessed the city, having accumulated a mental library of knowledge since his first adventurer quest. In terms of strategic terrain assessment, the city was located about 254 meters away from the nearest shore, that of a large lake. The beach consisted of various irregularities or distinct points that were of strategic concern. But "Point A," the most valuable part of the beach, a corner tip, provided a very wide panorama into the lake with mainland protrusions unobtrusively distant on the left and the right. The right protrusion was the single big forested hill "Point B," and the left protrusion was more level with the beach. Moreover, this left protrusion shared land with a slightly ascended, palm forest. Point A particularly was an extension of green land that made up most of the main land. In contrast, it was neighbored on the left by a sandy stretch of land that paused at another smaller protrusion that pointed to a 15-meter-square islet. Further inland from this protrusion lay a 39-meter-square lagoon. Point A was neighbored on the right by a hill that extended in a U-shape to Point B wherein the lake protruded inland. This lake protrusion was surrounded by this extended hill or ridge. Moving on to the mainland, Point A extended inland toward an expanse of rolling plains, starting off gentle but quickly growing hilly and rough to reach 11 meters in height. Moreover, the hills themselves were surrounded partially by a group of steep, densely forested mountains. Following the most level path to the city involved being surrounded by the taller hills and mountains and getting pressed between two hills at many points. Point C, a corner tip of the mountains provided the best panorama for both the mountains, the hills, the paths, the level plains, the beach, the lake, point A, point B, and the city itself. At night, it was practically invulnerable in terms of vision, and the bright city was particularly vulnerable. Furthermore, it provided a narrow path that extended smoothly enough to reach the nearest city building from a vantage point only 32 meters away. Overall, it provided good engage but bad disengage since it was a very steep cliff. Taking the more level route through the plains instead of the mountains led to a river 13 meters wide at its most narrow. However, this most narrow part would leave someone 111 meters farther than the shortest path, leaving space for the city to prepare since the land was now level and visible. Ignoring maritime obstacles, the shortest path to the village through the plains would lead to a 22-meter-wide part of the river and a 66-meter-long lake connected to the river. In conclusion, all of the objectives above, such as the extended hills and point C, if not defended, could be exploited by an invading enemy that arrived through an amphibious assault. In short, for invaders, their goal was to take objectives. For defenders, their goal was to defend them. Point A and its relation to the city was only one broader front, considering that the city was neighbored by a gorge 59 meters away from the nearest building. The overall terrain was much more wider and had a lot more to consider strategically. As for Matthew's eight skill options, they varied. Rapid Resonance (Level 1) Cost: 100 Mana Cooldown: 3 hours and 20 minutes Cast Time: 0.5 seconds Effect Radius: 800 units Active: The user releases a resonating pulse, affecting all nearby allies and granting them increased attack speed and movement speed for 5 seconds. Additionally, allies gain bonus damage on their next basic attack within 3 seconds of receiving the pulse. Attack Speed Increase: 25% (25% + 5%🔥) Movement Speed Increase: 15% (15% + 5%🔥) Bonus Magic Damage: 25 (25 + 5%🔥) Allies affected by Rapid Resonance have their resistances boosted by 5% for the duration. Whirlwind Waltz (Level 1) Cost: 100 Mana Cooldown: 8 hours Cast Time: Instant Effect Radius: 250 Active: The user gracefully dances, creating a whirlwind of energy around them that lasts for 4 seconds. Enemies within the whirlwind are lifted off the ground, unable to move or attack for 1.5 seconds. After the whirlwind dissipates, affected enemies are slowed by 30% for 2 seconds. Duration: 4 seconds Immobilization Duration: 1.5 seconds Slow Duration: 2 seconds Shifting Shadows (Level 1) Cost: 60 Mana Cooldown: 4 minutes Cast Time: 0.5 seconds Effect Radius: 400 Active: The user melds into the shadows, becoming invisible for 3 seconds. While invisible, the user gains increased movement speed and leaves behind a trail of deceptive shadows that confuse enemies, causing them to miss their attacks against the user. Increased Movement Speed: +20% Chance to Dodge Attacks: 35% Duration: 3 seconds Upon reappearing, the user deals bonus damage to nearby enemies based on the distance traveled while invisible. Bonus Physical Damage: 30 (50%🪓+5% of distance traveled) Maximum Bonus Damage: 120 (200%🪓+20% of distance traveled) Thunderous Thrust (Level 1) Cost: 40 Energy Cooldown: 8 seconds Cast Time: 0.3 Effect Range: 250 units Active: The user channels energy into their weapon, unleashing a thunderous thrust in front of them. This thrust deals physical damage to the first enemy hit and knocks them back. Physical Damage: 58 (40 + 30%🪓) Knockback Distance: 100 units Enemies struck by Thunderous Thrust have their movement speed reduced by 20% for 2 seconds. Spectral Strike (Level 1) Cost: 40 Mana Cooldown: 24 hours Cast Time: 0.2 seconds Effect Range: 300 units Active: The user conjures a spectral blade, launching it forward in a swift strike. Upon impact, it deals physical damage to the first enemy hit and applies a spectral mark for 4 seconds. Physical Damage: 52 (40 + 20%🪓) Spectral Mark: Enemies marked take 10% increased damage from all sources. If the spectral blade successfully hits an enemy champion, the user gains a temporary boost of 10% movement speed for 2 seconds. Thunderous Blitz (Level 1) Cost: 40 Mana Cooldown: 8 Cast Time: 0.2 Effect Range: 150 Active: The user channels lightning energy into a swift blitz, striking a single enemy target with electrifying force. The target is stunned for 1 second and takes immediate magic damage. Magic Damage: 40 (40 + 80%🔥) Stun Duration: 1 second Flurry Strike (Level 1) Cost: 40 Mana Cooldown: 20 seconds Cast Time: 0.25 Effect Radius: 200 Active: The user unleashes a rapid flurry of strikes with their weapon, dealing physical damage to a single target. Each strike has a chance to inflict a bleeding effect for 5 seconds, causing additional damage over time. Physical Damage per Strike: 16 (10 + 10% 🪓) Number of Strikes: 5 Chance to Inflict Bleeding: 40 Bleed Damage per Second: 11 (5 + 10% 🪓) Total Physical Damage: 80 (50 + 50% 🪓) Total Bleed Damage: 55 (25 + 50% 🪓) Wind Whirl (Level 1) Cost: 40 Mana Cooldown: 14 Cast Time: None Range: 1500 Width: 250 Speed: 1000 Active: The user conjures a powerful whirlwind at a targeted location, dealing ranged physical damage to all enemies within the area and knocking them up for 1 second. Magic Damage: 50 (40 + 10% 🔥) Enemies hit by Wind Whirl are slowed by 30% for 2 seconds after being knocked back. Matthew knew his current skill and power level, but thanks to this sudden success with Rodney's help and to his preexisting wounds, his mental state might be destabilizing faster than he could properly integrate and process things properly—imbalance triggered by success. Hours earlier, at his cottage, before he went to the cafe, like the eruption of an earthquake after accumulating stress for so long, he shook. And thoughts spiralled in his mind. "I am the epitome of grace and beauty!" he yelled. He laughed maniacally. He stopped himself. And he remembered his systematic approach. As he walked away, thoughts continued to burst in his mind: "It's mine! It's mine!" An intrusive smirk protruded into his face before he suppressed it. Returning to the present, at the dungeon steps, Matthew's hands were shaking. He had picked his skill. He grabbed a goblin and beat to a crisp. He kicked a goblin jumping out of cover. He stabbed a goblin charging at one of his adventurer friends. The [System] supported his journey. Kudos! That goblin takedown was pure genius! 🌟 Your reward? A cool 1+ XP for the win! 🎉 Smooth move! Your swift defeat of the goblin earns you a sweet 1+ XP boost! 🚀 Keep up the momentum! 🎉 Incredible job with that goblin takedown! 🔥 Enjoy your 1+ XP reward for the victory! You're on fire! 🎉 His new skill was [Whirlwind Waltz], and he got it because its cast time was instant. Whirlwind Waltz (Level 1) Cost: 100 Mana Cooldown: 8 hours Cast Time: Instant Effect Radius: 250 Active: The user gracefully dances, creating a whirlwind of energy around them that lasts for 4 seconds. Enemies within the whirlwind are lifted off the ground, unable to move or attack for 1.5 seconds. After the whirlwind dissipates, affected enemies are slowed by 30% for 2 seconds. Duration: 4 seconds Immobilization Duration: 1.5 seconds Slow Duration: 2 seconds Matthew shouted, fighting alongside the adventurers. In the meantime, Rodney and his team were breaking block-shaped objects littered in the distance. After being distracted for a while, Matthew returned to assessment. Movements of the goblin troops were skewed to the left. Four adventurers were taking advantage of the chaos one adventurer provided. Matthew ran to the right, blocking a group of goblins from flanking the adventurers. He punched the goblin on the face. The goblins ganged up on him, jumping. In response, he used his skill: "[Whirlwind Waltz!]" The goblins stopped for the stun duration. He ravaged them, growling with a blend of euphoria and irritation. The goblins fell one by one in a domino effect. He kicked them, deflecting several blades by using his weight, taking severe damage. But thanks to his healing, he retreated before goblin reinforcements caught him. However, as a consequence, several goblins escaped his assault, their faces distraught with fear. Matthew hesitated briefly before stomping a goblin's head. "Stop!" he said at several goblins passing by him in the distance, his eyes wide. He wasn't angry. He was terrified. But he was in the zone like a painter with his pieces. He roared. Several goblins retreated, respecting the close-range ferocity and healing he demonstrated. He tried to grab one of them to punch them in the face. But the goblins didn't take the bait and kept running. In the end, Matthew remembered his objectives, and he retreated before he overstayed. When he returned home, some street entertainers were dancing, their limbs taking various shapes and syncing various patterns with timing. In response, Matthew looked at his limbs, and he and the rest of the adventurers grinned. Earlier, Matthew, Ella, Nova, and Marsh Cranberry easily found a willing party to join to the dungeon steps, so currently, he was with eighteen other adventurers. It was a big party. Matthew remembered what he had to do, so the next day, he immediately contacted several older acquaintances again to meet. He wanted to get them on his level. He was in a hurry, and he didn't want to pretend and sit down. But he would do this gradually. Ultimately, he wanted to get all his acquaintances up to speed with his new goals. Quickly, he convinced them to rock with him in a dungeon delve. It was going to be his first time in a dungeon. Soon, at the dungeon, the sound of skeleton screams got his heart pumping for some high-octane action, he grabbed a spear and stabbed at the air, marking the start of a joyous occasion. As soon as the skeletons appeared, he ran around, stabbing them one by one, using shields to block their arrows. The skeletons with swords found themselves overwhelmed by the weight of human flesh, since their bones were much more brittle and light in comparison, only making up 14% of the total body weight. But magic helped with their attacks. In the end, Matthew found himself in a fight for his life. But this time, he was happy. He swung a sword he picked up as he ran, passing by several adventurers running in different directions. The skeletons were separated and struggling to keep up. Matthew saved his skill for now in case a stronger monster force emerged. Meanwhile, the adventurers managed to slash sideways against three skeleton's legs, making them collapse in an exaggerated manner. This roused a chorus of laughter enough that they wheezed and hugged their stomachs. Consequently, Matthew began chuckling, his laugh soon taking on a loud and boisterous form. Later, the adventurers cheered as they mowed a group of glowing skeletons over with magic and spells. The skeletons fell one by one. Matthew followed along skipping. As soon as they completed the dungeon, Matthew got a quest. Adventure Awaits: Skeleton Festivity! Embark on a thrilling quest to spread joy throughout the land by eliminating 25 mischievous skeletons within the next 8 hours. Happy belated 25th birthday! Rewards Await: Experience Points (XP) Boost to elevate your journey to new heights! Rare Loot Drop Chance Increase, enhancing your chances of discovering treasures beyond imagination! Gold Coins to enrich your coffers and fund your next grand adventure! Exclusive Skeleton Slayer Title, earning you recognition as a hero among heroes in the realm! Join the jubilant fray and let the goblin-slaying festivities commence!Chapter 14 - Detaching From Ingrained Tendencies
He stared at the silence, and in the dark, he became like a light. He aimed his spear and stabbed forward, striking the goblin menace. He remembered one of his enemies, Mawkery. But he wondered when the idea of enemies extended to actual violence instead of enemies in a video game. Now, he was playing with lives, and he was racking up lives. Time was ticking, and his sense of self might be deteriorating. But he was happy. But that could just something he showed. He aimed his weapon. He slashed a skeleton. He tore it apart piece by piece. He developed himself, and the [System] continued to rewarded him. The [System] showed him that he had unused stat points from his past level-ups. This meant that the [System] finally showed him a stat besides [Vitality]. This also meant that his levels finally had some use. Attack Damage🪓: 60 Ability Power🔥: 0 Armor🛡️: 30 Magic Resistance🚫: 30 Health🗿: 600 Unused stat points: 2770 Matthew never considered how stats affected human strength because he wasn't a fighter himself. But he knew that what adventurers did was impressive. And that was what motivated him to discover more about stats and how they impacted human ability. When he finally tested it firsthand, then he could finally observe others and appreciate the power of the [System] in engendering power. The [System] gave him a list showing the value of one unit of each attribute when converted to unused stat points. Attack Damage🪓: 35 stat points (SP) Ability Power🔥: 20 SP Armor🛡️: 20 SP Magic Resistance🚫: 18 SP Health🗿: 2.67 SP Matthew would remember how the [System] made him. After asking for clarifications, he learned that [Ability Power] only affected damage and confirmed that Armor and Magic Resistance mitigated [Physical Damage] and [Magic Damage], respectively. This was strange since skills were commonly associated with magic, but many skills dealt only physical damage. Moreover, he discovered that increasing an attribute had to be exact, so he couldn't increase [Armor] by 1.5 by spending 30 unused stat points. Since he was a close-ranged fighter, he thought that maximizing his survivability, especially since he had healing, sounded sensible. Contrastingly, he was able to fend off and beat multiple goblins easily, given that he had [Whirlwind Waltz] now. To counterpoint that, he might face enemies capable of dealing horrendous damage in a short amount of time. In the end, he decided to take a well-rounded approach and dump all his points as equally as he could. He allocated 540 points for each attribute, yielding 15 [Attack Damage], 27 [Ability Power], 27 [Armor], 30 [Magic Resistance], and 202 [Health]. After he was left with 15.66 unused stat points, he dumped the rest into [Health], ending with 5 more [Health]. In conclusion, he still had 2.31 unused stat points that couldn't be used for now. Attack Damage🪓: 75 Ability Power🔥: 27 Armor🛡️: 57 Magic Resistance🚫: 60 Health🗿: 807 Unused stat points: 2.31 As for why he opted for a more versatile approach, he didn't have enough information to make a specialized allocation. Even if he knew that obtaining 2,770 unused stat points was likely rare, it was better to be flexible and hedge his bets since anything could happen—the investor's approach within the realm of risk management and strategic thinking. He could have considered taking the time to consult his circle before spending his points, but he didn't want to persist nakedly while the world around him channeled challenges and opportunities all around him. It was better to make systematic decisions instead of throwing blitzkriegs randomly at uncharted land, especially when mountains could likely be in the way. In short, he chose to go for the 90% chance of winning strategy with moderate rewards than the 5% chance with higher reward. In the long term, the former option rewarded much, much more. To counterpoint this argument, improvising and adapting to this current situation was crucial, and even systems would fail if overly reliant on what had worked many times before. However, this adapting and improvising mainly took place in the actual fighting rather than in the drafting stage. To end with an example, much improvisation, enforced by rudimentary tactics and equipment, led to less coordinated, efficient, and stable amphibious assaults in World War 1 compared to those in World War 2. This back-and-forth occurred in Matthew's head. He was his best debate partner. But in the end, he grinned widely because he could finally afford to break open the "door." It was a joke that circled around his second adventurer party. To explain, the "door" referred to a specific faunthorn or humanoid deer, the one that blocked a group of escaping goblins from entering a doorway in a past quest. He laughed. He went to Block \& Bed Tavern where he met some of his inn friends, the ones he befriended throughout his time here during his rest days. Inside, several men were seated, their gaits relaxed and resting on the backrests and table edges. He passed by them, rounding several corners before stopping in front of an empty table. Then, at his left, a woman sidled forward, her expression friendly, her hair flowing, her eyes squinting. She was Lumi. Sitting down, she said: "Hey, Matthew." "Hey." Matthew smiled briefly before focusing on sitting down. That smile was for his new stats. "They were wondering if you're the one who bought the skill tablets? Uh, it's probably not you, of course." Matthew squinted before smiling subtly. "No, no... I... Yeah—I wasn't the one." Lumi glanced outside, tapping her lap. "Okay." Another one emerged, her footsteps like the swinging of a pendulum, gesturing toward Matthew. She was Elara, who called herself the "Raider," and she said: "It's nice to see you again, man." Matthew nodded happily. Elara, after a short pause, continued: "I haven't seen you in a while. What have you been doing? I've been slaying slimes and started practicing my new skill—" Having checking her left and right, she slashed in front of herself elegantly, curving and flourishing it in a theatrical manner. "I can now slash several slimes and slowly stack the skill's damage. All I have to do is stay by the beginner level, and I'm solved. Want to see?" Elara's body language communicated that she wanted to demonstrate more slashing outside. Matthew shook his head. "Let's eat first." He removed his hands from his hands and placed them down on the table. After a brief pause, Elara sat down across from him next to Lumi. Seeing the women side by side, Matthew thought about something that rarely preoccupied his mind. As a majority man, Matthew liked women, but he didn't really feel compelled to fall in love or have sexual relations with them. For the most part, if he did fall in love or have sex, it would be by choice. Though, he did wonder if there was something wrong with him. He didn't feel romantic and sexual emotions except when he needed to relieve excessive stress. This was why he only felt noticeably attracted to women when he was lying down at night when he was most stressed after working the whole day. Moreover, he never found himself attracted to men, so he was still straight. This was his definition of normal, making him furrow his brows at more typical depictions and expressions of love and sexuality when he saw them everywhere. In the end, he didn't care. More accurately, he didn't want to care. In the same vein, he also heard someone mention that Marcher died, and his first thought was, "It's a shame, but it is what it is." Returning to the reunion, the third person who arrived was a man named "Thorne," greeting Matthew: "Matt, what have you been doing lately? I heard you were getting ahead of yourself. Remember when you came to me crying telling me someone you knew died and that you couldn't handle goblins at all?" Matthew cringed out of embarassment. Even if he was close to them, he had wanted to learn how to be more independent because he was afraid of experiencing loss again. "Really?" said Elare, sharing a heartfelt, compassionate frown with Lumi. "Yeah," Matthew said with an evasive tone, his voice trying to fade into the background, tilting his body off to the side. "Well, I was hoping to get you to join us for an upcoming mission—" "Yeah, we were hoping you'd try out the new tournament items we got!" These three were not adventurers in the typical sense, since they blended into civil life and never interacted with monsters. But they did have shared some characteristics of an adventurer and identified as such. When Matthew headed to the cafe again, he saw a familiar face, the registrant he met at the concierge. In the meantime, he finally felt rested and looked at his [System] notifications. 🏆 Quest Completed: Skeleton Festivity! Congratulations, valiant adventurer! Your dedication to spreading joy throughout the land by eliminating 25 mischievous skeletons has brought triumph and celebration to all. 🎯 Objective Achieved: Eliminated 25 skeletons within the allotted 8 hours. 🎁 Rewards Earned: Experience Points (XP) Boost: Your unwavering commitment to the Skeleton Festivity has earned you a significant 200 experience points, propelling you further along your epic journey. Rare Loot Drop Chance Increase: Your heroic deeds have attracted the favor of fortune. Your chances of discovering rare and priceless loot have now risen to extraordinary levels. Gold Coins: A bountiful reward of 10 gold coins for your successful skeleton-slaying endeavors. May they serve you well on your future adventures. Exclusive Skeleton Slayer Title: With your exceptional performance, you've rightfully earned the prestigious title of "Skeleton Slayer." Display it proudly, for it signifies your unmatched valor and heroism in the realm. Join the jubilant fray and revel in the glory of your achievements! Let the Skeleton Festivity continue, as you stand as a beacon of hope and courage for all! At the moment, since the three people in front of him were engaged in a conversation and no one else was bothering him, he slowed down for a moment. He wasn't here to pour more on his plate. He was here because he wanted to be honest for once in his life. "I lost my family," he said after months of not saying a word about it, taking Thorne's implied suggestion to share with them. "I lost them only recently. It was hard... I saw my family just three months ago, but now, I feel like a fraud. How have I been coping so well these past few months? I don't know how I was able to hold it on for so long, y'know? I feel like a fraud... I'm... sorry... I just wanted... I just wanted to be... okay..." Part of what he said was initially performative, but what he didn't know was that he was being honest. This initial perfomative nature reflected that systematic way of dealing with his problems. The three looked at him for a moment, waiting for him to continue. A few seconds passed, but before they could speak, Matthew said his next words. "I lost so much. I lost my life. I lost everything I've ever known. I lost the feeling of being... alive, awake. I'm not the same anymore. I... don't... know. I can't remember anymore what it was like to..." He trailed off, looking around him, his eyes wet. He shook his head slightly and blinked hard, tilting his head off to the side. He sniffled twice and looked up for a while before wincing briefly. Later, after he finished, he took a bath, filled his stomach, and quenched his thirst. At that point, he was back to work face. To summarize his perspective and agency in the world, he saw the world as a giant place where anything could happen, including death, starvation, and anger. His heart grew several times when he discovered that the goblins were people in their own right. However, his hands were also skilled in dismantling (killing) them, so it felt natural for him to obey his commitments, that which the adventurer party who had saved him at the beginning of his journey in this world cultivated. He was like a child groomed for a war, but he had a choice here because he had time to think amid the pressures. He knew that sooner or later, he had to make a decision, and neglecting his commitments and promises would isolate him. If he was isolated, he would need to find a new support structure willing to accomodate his desires for peace. Moreover, the [System] itself enabled his destructive behavior, so he had to resist it as well. But he didn't know how he could peaceably provide for himself, since adventuring was all he knew. He had more civilian commitments like his employee relations job, and he had been able to walk around the village and achieve the "Kindness" quest the [System] offered him. But he also felt that as time passed, he felt more drawn to the idea of power. Having been part of the adventurers for a long time, they were his family, so even now, he was looking for alternative routes, provided by people like Elara, Thorne, and Lumi. He was hoping to find a compromise that wasn't total avoidance of adventurer culture but wasn't complicit either. However, this assessment was subjective, and his real-life emotions were much more intense. He downplayed how violent he was by refraining from focusing on the detail of bloodshed and the emotional facets of his goblin opponents. This summarization outlined his ideals rather than his actuality. Justification and idealism was necessary for him to proceed, which was as all wars followed. It helped him make his brutal decisions and his kind ones. It helped him change the world for the better and for the worse. It was an essential component of his intellectual journey. Returning to reality, Matthew knew that he was not perfect, but he had to keep going or die trying. He ran, finding several dogs in the distance. He saw them many times, but he never addressed their existence. So this time, he would look around himself more and see the factors that he had dismissed or had too little energy or understanding to appreciate. The dogs ranged from red, blue, and green in the color of their fur. Besides that, they looked like normal dogs. Matthew tried to constrain his efforts, trying to get his [System] to respond to this dogs. However, the [System] was largely silent, only showing the dogs' stats with their health and level, supporting his view that it was violent in nature. Matthew realized that the [System] no longer wholly served his purposes, so he had to think outside the box and rely on other magical means of empowering himself. If the [System] mandated growth only through violence, he had to find alternatives, so he wasn't using the hammer for everything not a nail. The world demanded communication and social skills, both of which rested on empathy and a cosmopolitan mindset. And if he lacked this essential skill, he was practically a floating boat in a sea of isolation. In order to accrue power, he had to know how to wield it, which meant retreating, slowing down the pace to scale for late game, and not getting caught instead of just charging at the enemy like a single-minded kid running at a bunch of speeding vehicles. As he looked around, he realized something. The dogs were biting him, turning the skin of his arm blue with frost. He backed off and ran away, having forgotten to be careful of this world at every turn. He remembered again that it was not going to be easy for him to explore this world if he didn't know the unspoken rules everyone learned while growing up. After healing himself, he remembered again that not everyone or everything was amenable to reason and might kill even when well-fed or act extremely in response to specific catalysts, those not easily verifiable to a standard, but which were individualized, making models of conversation challenging. These extremities of response could be recognized with the low-functioning patient, wherein communication with the physician and social members was impaired. He noticed that he himself exhibited a pronounced increase in formal thought, potentially a form of distancing from the marked physicality characterized by the dogs. He returned to normal and recognized his awkward positioning, having paused his journey and engaged in other activites that afforded him rest while still accruing a large variety of significant growth, albeit that ont occupied by violence and killing and [System] stats and levels. His recent surge of cultivation was more cerebral and psychological, marking a step in a positive direction away from senseless chaos and action, reducing the risks posed by an impulsive outlook. Indeed, he learned that his stress levels had been much lower since he confessed to Elara and company. If he didn't do so, it would fester, basking in an emergent manner when future difficulties struck. He orchestrated the recent events and ended them all with a crystal-clear vision of what lay ahead. It wasn't clairvoyance but a robust system facilitated and exploited to mitigate expected gaps in skill and knowledge by Matthew. Matthew collected himself and pressed forward. This time, his strikes would be systematized, even if not necessarily evidence-backed, considering the apparent lack of scientific support he observed during the last 3 months. He was confident that learning the adventurers' fighting skills would not contribute to his success as much as training his ability to discern tactically, strategically, and influentially at this moment. However, if he covered off his current commitments and refrained from taking too many new ones, then he could adopt a more well-rounded learning cycle not entirely dominated by stress, confusion, and adventurer fighting. This way, he could spread his energy "points" around activities such as physical and combat training, [System] skill advancement, intelligence gathering in the facets of culture, structure, and individuals, and self-care in a more proactive way rather than a mere subservience to the adventurer flow. This was his goal, and he would climb recklessly if he had to. Of course, this "recklessness" could be calculated and take the form of determination, with the theme of recklessness only being a dramatic but motivational force. He would stun-lock anyone who would get in his way. But oh how delightful would it be if he could just control these little...! He took deep breaths to calm himself, finding himself in front of three members of his first adventurer party: Suneater "Brackern" Herculeanridder, Redspiller "Brandon" Warmaker, and Doomsinger "Michel" Mighttaker. He hadn't prepared to meet them, but they were here for him at the hunting grounds where the late golem maker had told him to go. He smiled, suppressing a brief smirk, then adopting an analytical demeanor. He breathed audibly, lumbering toward them. As if he predicted it, the [System] gave him a new quest: A piano melody started playing in Matthew's head. It came from the [System]. Quest: Adventurer Ambush Objective: Assassinate three skilled adventurers within the next 24 hours. Reward: Skill Mastery Enhancement Access to Restricted Guild Resources Valuable Artifacts Prestigious Assassin's Title Matthew wondered what the purpose of the [System] was, as the cheery voices of the three adventurers began to resound, reminding him of the people he had known back on Earth, the thousands of experiences he had, and the many memories pervading that time of his life. Now, he was here, castrated by a power above him and beyond his comprehension—the [System]. In response to loss, a fuel of flame and rage began in his heart. He wondered if the violence of the [System] was inevitable, or if that was the quest most adventurers soon got. Instead of relying on his baser instincts of combat, he used his voice: "Guys, something's wrong with my [System]. It's telling me to attack you guys. It's a quest. What should I do?" Suneater, Redspiller, and Doomsinger nodded, and even if Sophia and Deathbringer weren't here, they explained that the [System] was random and that quests like these could be ignored. They said that it was only a random suggestion from the [System] and not an actual pattern. According to them, it was also not inherently violent. Matthew remembered the "Kindness" quest and realized that he might have been seeing a pattern that wasn't actually there. That the [System] was violent was a conclusion he had surmised due to his lack of experience and tender circumstances. Shifting to the physical level, the trembles of footsteps emerged, sounding an alarm in their heads. From the distance, hundreds of sprinters ran through the forest, utilizing various spells to speed themselves up. This was the second facet of this city that Matthew had yet to engage in—civil life with magic—the first being adventurers. The sprinters came in running, so Matthew observed, letting in the light of understanding that spoke of people beyond his own profession and circumstances, Those sprinters near Matthew emerged as unique individuals, each embodying various characters and wearing clothes of unique combinations and various colors. He tried to let them into his mind, but he could only express his awe. The light sky bounced across a wave of generations spanning the world, hundreds of plants growing and dying everyday, thousands of people crafting their destinies with a rod-like magical quill, their souls brimming with agency and flavor. Each person existed within their own world. Matthew was just one of them, and his perception of his power would shift as he learned about others' perspectives. He exploded with a ray of glory, his hand a mighty fist that established greatness upon the earth. But so were that of the people around him, brimming with agency and flavor. They graciously threaded and linked connections and ideas together, forming concrete structures that maintained themselves measuredly. The sky appreciated their glory and watched them glide. Matthew found himself trying to leaf through all the pages in their life, but finding himself blocked by the limitations of his single mind. His reality and his casualness with violence was not shared by those around him. His sole peers in this were the adventurers. With time, the sprinter event inculcated the recognition of individuals and their various circles and social structures into him. He mastered the patience to accept the emotions encircling this information, condensing it into fruition.Chapter 15 - The Puppeteer's Gambit
But for some reason, despite the sprinter event being a reflection of a more active community, it also reflected the wealthier part of the community. What used to be a battleground between an adventurer coalition and goblins became an area where those wealthy enough to afford the grounds or knew someone who did enjoyed themselves. It was treated similar to a noble's hunting land, as several cave networks, dungeons, and various underground chambers provided entertainment for wealthier adventurers seeking novelty and enjoyment in a controlled space. Even adventurers were separated into broad categories of high, mid, and low income, each easily identified by their abodes and communities. Interestingly, it was also the higher-income adventurers that held the responsibility of fighting for adventurer rights. So even if mobility between classes could be considered easier in certain metrics such as individual ability, individual ability didn't necessarily lead to substantial outcomes. All of this information about the sprinters and their implications he gleaned from the adventurers themselves with support from various sources. Even throughout his emotional "charades," he still spent a fortune into his own personal development, having perfected the approval of Sophia and Deathbringer in his advance toward enchanted armor and weapons. This was more than just asking others for help. This was delegation and establishing support structures through which he could reach out in case anything outside of his expectations arose. It was solidifying his place in the world. In line with this analytical mood, even now, Matthew addressed several issues by entreating the adventurers for information, having ridden himself of the illusion of distance between them. His thoughts were spiraling robotically, assembling new means of collating knowledge. If he could essentialize his current state by streamlining stray issues into a coherent melting pot, then he would become God Almighty in a metaphorical manner. One of those issues included the concern about [System] titles and how they contributed to his reputation. If their effectiveness was fraudulent, then he would have to concretize them into observable details. This meant that he would approach people and see how they responded to him. This would require a long study with a sample size of at least a hundred participants. This was his college degree approach. Exclusive Goblin Slayer Title: With your outstanding performance, you've earned the prestigious title of "Goblin Slayer." Display it proudly, as it symbolizes your expertise in eradicating these menacing creatures. Exclusive Skeleton Slayer Title: With your exceptional performance, you've rightfully earned the prestigious title of "Skeleton Slayer." Display it proudly, for it signifies your unmatched valor and heroism in the realm It wouldn't necessarily be considered rigorous since Matthew was doing this without scientific support structure and doing this in a fantasy medieval magical world. Additionally, it was challenging to ensure the reproducibility of results—a potential advent of replication crisis. Still, this study was helpful in promoting a systematic approach that could lead to scientific progress. In particular, the benefits of this approach could be outlined by four key advantages. One, through the formulation of hypotheses, planning of observations, and the analysis of data, this was an example of critical thinking, which lay the groundwork for scientific inquiry. Two, while limited in scope and generalizability, this was a starting point for future research into the mechanics of the [System]. Three, this contributed to an exploration of methodologies within the [System] framework, which could inspire adventurers to work out new meta (most effective tactics available) trends. Four, this encouraged collaboration and discussion, prime preludes to research question refinement and the sharing of insights and discoveries. In the end, he was creating a glorious empire of enlightenment. Subsequent to this study, he wanted also to find evidence for the supposed rare loot drop chance since the [System] didn't proactively notify him of it while he fought. Rare Loot Drop Chance Increase: Your heroic deeds have attracted the favor of fortune. Your chances of discovering rare and priceless loot have now risen to extraordinary levels. As for why Matthew could only spend so much effort into analyzing everything around him, his emotions gave him little time to breathe; however, they were not anything, as shown by his recent advancements into and through his current assets. This was proactivity. After this, he retreated home and combatted sleep deprivation, having spent himself up. If he didn't sleep, he would struggle under the associated negative effects. His sleepiness made his analytical mindset pronounced, albeit concomitant with the extreme assertions of emotion and loneliness besieging his mind. He had to mitigate their effects on him by taking deep breaths and striking back against the assertions with positivity—the fallible critter could only hug this tool late at night when the bed bugs bit. In the end, when he fell asleep, his body was vulnerable, bugs roaming at the horizon. The next day, the various locations of the city became much clearer to him; however, it was still murky to him. This referred to how well he could navigate the town by memory alone and how well he could understand the importance and functions of each location via the individuals, details, and various events that had taken place, took place there regularly, or would take place there. Even now, he still needed to breathe to keep his brain from frying under pressure. Each individual in the city presented opportunities beyond his wildest imaginations, so even with his commitments right now, he wanted to grab more to gain the benefits of the next stage of network expansion, his left hand stretching out. He had benefitted enough from his fellow adventurers, so he had to find new angles in which to approach them. Relying on the same old traditions that he had established throughout the course of the last three months would be disastrous. So his next step would be strengthing how responsive his current network of friends were, each with their varying dispositions, expectations, and debts toward him. He had to ascertain them all and keep his mind sharp, or else he might cut himself with how strictly linear and pointy his relations were becoming. In other words, the more "sensible" or linear his relations were, the more disastrous it was. As for the reason of this, everyone grew dynamically and the amount and ways each one could contribute ever-shifted. If he started to become complacent and unimaginative with the way he treated them, he would miss opportunities and slow down his growth. Openness to new technologies could be compared to this. In order to do this, one method would be to mish-mash his acquaintances together by having them meet up. A second method would involve collaborating with those whom he never had alone time with. Moreover, he could also begin studying the infrastructure and the patterns they took. He already had a strong understanding of a particular front; however, he also wanted to continue developing downhill toward the lower and usually poorer areas of the town where tropical flooding was most ruinous. Since he lived in the mid-level areas of the town where the main road intersected both with the proliferating peasant markets and the selective wealthy bastions, he could easily identify where people most spent their time. However, it was being able to synthesize the patterns of traffic and how well the infrastructure served it, highlighting its faults and weaknesses and zeroing in on its strengths, that was crucial to his aims. His goal was to see if how he could influence the town, starting from an urban terrain analysis. This would require years of work in order for him to achieve alone without some form of intelligence magic or the like. So he recalled several individuals who might aid him in understanding the city, particularly older people who had seen the evolution of the city. He remembered the older man who suggested that he let a tree be. This suggestion was strange, but it was memorable. As for other details, he lost count of the numerous adventurers he had seen in the guild throughout his time here. He might remember some regulars' faces, but the limits of his memory were only up to people like Tamer and Rodney, whom he had only met relatively recently. He noticed that what he remembered the most were people he met at the beginning of his time here in this world and those he met recently. He presumed that the stress and burnout during the middle part of his journey was the cause. So he visited the older man. Then, his urges flared up because for some reason, as soon as he saw the older man, he knew that this man was powerful. It was not instinctive. It was not clairvoyance. It was because it was only natural now to assume that anyone in this world hid something beyond his means and understanding. He would give them the benefit of the doubt by assuming they could change his world. Meanwhile, the older man was sitting down at a small, standalone cafeteria, having eaten good food to match his mood. He didn't know how long he had, but this was an excellent moment for respite away from his past memories. They were all too much, and even if he had so many good, he also had so many bad. In fact, it was the good memories that hurt him the most. The bad ones he had moved away from, but he never got closure for so many things. He was stuck to see progress and good things go unfulfilled and unresolved. He gritted his teeth, seeking the power to change his circumstances. If he could only have the power to destroy this world, then maybe he could have the power to save it—to improve it, to give it life, and to see life flourish with understanding. But he could bite his lips with resignment and let go, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't pretend for too long. Maybe, he could pretend long enough for him to reach his climax and his end of life. But this would be anti-climactic for him. He would just be a pretending little lost cause, having spent so much and gained so little to match. He had to do something for once in his life, even if he had done so much already. It was a constant desire, the desire for change. Others saw him as this fulfilled older man who had lived a perfect life. But he was still the boy who couldn't save his friends. He was still the boy who couldn't pay back the good done to him. He was still the boy who had improved and grown so much. And he was grateful and proud of that. But he couldn't just sit still while the young fought and died. He couldn't sit still while the young suffered under the responsibilties expected from them. He couldn't just watch. He had to do something. In the distance, he noticed a familiar young man approaching him with eyes flaring with intent. When the young man halted several meters away, the older man kept his face taut with seriousness, locking eyes for several seconds, before he loosened up and smiled. "You have grown, haven't you?" he said enigmatically, pouring a cup of water and ordering a bowl of noodles for him. The young man, wearing a purple tunic and a yellow surcoat and foreign trousers, glasses, and strangely shaped sandals. His face was sculpted with an oblong-shaped head that could look round depending on hair and smile; curly hair styled as straight hair; charming, large round downturned eyes; delightfully thick eyebrows; a button nose; and full lips. He looked both adorable and intimidating depending on how he carried himself. But this was only his appearance. Earlier, the young man, Matthew Cruz, was thinking of heading to the bazaar where the adventurers he knew worked. He was hoping to talk to their younger siblings to see what they had to say about the world. Moving forward, this would fill him up with essential information belonging to a usually neglected facet of the world, as most adults forgot their desires, ideas, and perspective as a child, having grown past them to fulfill their adult responsibilities. But he decided to head to the older man for now. Now that he was here, he wanted to see what the older man had in mind. The older man said, imitating a young man's way of talking: "I forgot what it was like on your side of things, since we've only known each other that time." Matthew grinned sheepishly, saying: "Yeah, I do remember... I was in a hurry because... I had a lot of things... on my plate that... time." He inhaled deeply through his nose and looked around, gazing at the traffic of the city, imaginatively seeing the patterns and dynamics characterized by various groups of passersby. He had to overlook each individual because they were too numerous. But he could at least get a stronger assessment of the city life compared to when he first came here to this city. His tone shifted to that of secrecy. "Tellervo," he said. "Have you heard of the goblin raids already making their way through various hobbit towns? The battle is already beginning, and the humans are already casting their lots." "Humans?" The older man bewitched him, casting a spell that terminated any intellectual thought occuring in Matthew's brain. Matthew stopped thinking and slowly leaned back. Since his chair was only a stool, he fell backward, but the older man caught him with both arms by his clothes. The city couldn't help him because the older man was too powerful for his spells to be noticed or heard. The next day, the older man brought him to a cliff, exhausted from the journey he took. "What you will do now is wake up!" His declaration magically caused Matthew to open his eyes and abruptly stand up, having felt an intense urge to do so. Now that he was awake, he looked at the older man, fear becoming more obvious and vivid as the seconds came in. "What the hell are you doing?" The older man stared at him for a while, still regaining his composure from the exhaustion. After several minutes, Matthew was terrified, having frozen in place, his limbs lingering in an awkward position. Moreover, the older man began marching down the mountain, and he was quick, sprinting and jumping across the smoothest path down. As soon as he reached the bottom, he began creating a building by summoning blocks of construction materials out of thin air, magically placing them down in perfect alignment. As soon as he was done an hour later, he created a tavern. Matthew had escaped during that time. As soon as he returned home, he sat down at a bazaar. One of the adventurers, Suneater "Brackern", approached him, seeing his distraught face that looked composed just a moment ago. "What's wrong, Matthew!" His voice was strong like a piercing glare, but it was smooth like a hug from a friend. He was a friend. Matthew remembered playing games back on Earth where players did things that defied logic and surprised their enemies to their advantage. He also realized that if he met this world's equivalent to one of these players at any stage of their journey, they would be very dangerous, unpredictable individuals. He realized that the older man was one of them. Now that he thought about it, the golem maker was probably one of them as well. Maybe, even the disgusting man too. He needed to kill other unique special people who had found a way to become powerful through finding hidden abilities, secret classes, clairvoyant knowledge, divine blessings, and powerful artifacts, among others. He also had to be careful of fellow people who travelled here from Earth because some of them might be tenacious psychopathic remorseless murderers. Incidentally, psychopaths still felt anger, frustration, and pleasure, but even with that, they were likely bad at socializing and maintaining long-term connections since empathy and trust were crucial facets of that. Anyway, Matthew ultimately had to make a choice, having many options now that things were better. Recognizing that entering a cave by himself or in insufficient numbers meant certain failure and potentially death, he mobilized his fellow adventurers. The older man was the straw that broke the camel's back. He would control this world. He visited three controlled dungeon steps where he hypothesized about the dynamics of goblin behavior, proposing a plan to study them. This would be a study that drew from full-day focal follows of adult female blue goblins in three study groups for each dungeon steps; phenological data from the goblin group home ranges; and insect abundance data via malaise trap and sweep net methods; among others. To end, these follows would last 4 to 5 months, around 140 days. For context, the term "blue" in their names referred to their bluish-green skin. After consulting with adventurer experts during planning, he found out that various species and subspecies of goblin could be recognized. Furthermore, he found out their sizes and weights. Typical sizes ranged from 50 to 65 centimeters in length, with females weighing a little over 6 kilos and males up to 10 kilos. Information like these would soon be valuable in methodologies moving forward, as many skills relied on this. Of course, many adventurers could instinctively make good decisions, but having mathematical and scientific confirmation made that much more fool-proof since even the best made bad improvisations frequently enough to rouse an evidence-backed need. In the end, Matthew returned home. He wanted to ground himself again after becoming emotional. Significantly, his emotions were well-managed so as to be almost invisible even in his decision-making. But he still needed to unwind. So he walked around the city, his heart beating amid the chaos tearing through the fabric of daylight. Before this, Peace was expected to create satisfying conclusions. But that was over. In other words, the chaos persisted and broke through the now ephemeral moments of goodness represented by light, which had been tasked with devastating the measly ruination proposed by the confusion and lack of resolution promoted by the night. To sum, Matthew walked despite the victory of Chaos. With this, his heart regained flesh and blood, and his mind returned to sharpness. Now, he summarized. During his appreciation of the cityscape, after reviewing his memories, he came to several conclusions: that his humanity had thus been defined, that he was not special, and that he could die any time.Chapter 16 - A World Remade: Matthew's Reckoning
Matthew stared at the landscape, his heart beating thunderously. He giggled before erupting in a triumphant guffaw. He was angelic in all its flavors, great in all its words, and heavenly in all its mania. He was euphoric, and his emotions lay bare by the wayside. He fell by the wayside. Deep existential horror enveloped him. The beating of a drum. The sounds of god tearing through his chest. The ethereal becoming present in his mind. He was lovely and thirsty for a drink. Mama. Papa. This now was his reckoning. He was freedom in all its glory and tearable in all its fabric. He could not comprehend his own validity. So he invalidated himself by saying: "Not today, Mama, not today is today. Tomorrow is a different day when it should have been on Earth, not here. Not here. I am not the me that I am. I am a different me, transposed away from myself." He was lonesome and tired. The night sky broke him up into tiny pieces, and his heart was too much to bear. So he begged to break it and tear it apart like it knew nothing. He was not... Throughout the course of a week, Matthew reassessed his resources and called up an assortment of adventurers to the forefront, having earned enough money to placate them. Moreover, he invited tension between them by offering competitive benefits via the announcement of flexible yet grandiose objectives and rewards. This made it easier for them to organize under him: people loved friends, but what they loved most were compatriots. His objectives for them involved hunting down several goblin troops and hideouts. Naturally, the help of warders were enlisted and organized for this sake. Many people rallied under Matthew, and soon enough, he declared his intention of participating in a broader conflict. This was his plot and scheme that he had fought to devise with tooth and nail. Mightily, he stood tall, standing watch. All of the aforementioned events were the visible aspects of his operation. The invisible ones he dispersed resources to nourish and leaders to spearhead would continue to hum with vigor, red in tooth and claw. Where he failed, he walked around with newfound purpose. This was his reckoning. Meanwhile, Jishu, a young man, watched the adventurer named "Matthew" in the distance. Matthew's form was high and glorious. Each step he made declared his new position of power. He was better than Jishu was. Jishu walked up to the man, offering his services as a saint. Matthew asked him what a saint could do. The young man assumed that Matthew was testing him. From a different angle, two boys the age of 12 and 13 accompanied their paraplegic friend to see the city, and when they saw Matthew's company all wearing a simple purple attire, they sprouted to high voices. "What is that?" said the 12-year-old boy named "Jack," running up and down a flight of steps. "That looks like a guy wearing paint," said the 13-year-old boy, Levi, bending down and leaning most of his body weight against a stone corner, his palms fronting the lean. "Is that paint on his face?" "No, I think that's just his skin color," said the friend of the two, stretching his arm with a pinched expression. Earlier, he offered to carry the other two boys' personal crates that they used as bags. "Oh, where is he from?" said Jack, jumping up and down, tripping and catching himself, getting a brow raise from Levi. "I don't know," said Levi, giving a thumbs up to Jack. "But he looks pretty foreign." "Really?" "Yeah." In a different scene, various adventurers walked around the city, having done their daily routine activities and were now completing their reports for the month to send to middle management. For context, the tall registrant from whom Matthew had received skill-related help, Rodney, was part of a division laterally related to the division that accepted these reports within the adventurer guild: Rodney's division regularly supplied them with information. This whole system directly benefitted from Matthew's engagement with the community. Matthew's intervention was less a product and more so an act of an entrepreneur. Matthew would never collapse. Even if he felt emotional at times, no one could stop him. With time, he came into battles, his expression that of pity. "I am sorry." He was sorry. But he had to. He stabbed goblins left and right, his arms creating tornado-like waves of impact. He sundered several goblin limbs, wishing that he could continue this expression of his love. He loved this world now. He had to. He was forced to. He sliced several goblins in the face, with the help of his comrades. His friends fought, and he raged with a pitiable expression. His heart surged as his weapons reached their targets. He slashed and pretended to feel weak, but his heart bursted with fiery anger. His movements fluidly brought forth the goblins' vulnerabilities, removing from them the most brute of their armor. He chopped them down, making their names unutterable anymore. He could only become himself. He loosened his fists, only to kill more along his path. This smoothness and elegance brought forth the greatest violence, for when anger was no longer a controlling force but support, he could do what he would. He raised his sword by the side, standing with his legs bent and his limbs hovering around his form. His eyes, full of compassion, contrasted the grin that robbed his mouth of it. He shook, trembling to success. Because each movement of his arms delivered death. He grabbed a spear and threw it, failing to smash through the goblin shield formation. As soon as he failed, the goblins, hungry for a leader-looking figure, tore through the air tunefully. But with enough forces having punitively regrouped by the flanks, Matthew was able to rain down fire and brutal metal upon their eyes and forms. The goblins died by the tens. Soon, Matthew would kill hundreds. In the end, Matthew had finally finished three months, and today marked a fresh start into his life with the onset of the third [System] quest. Quest: Bridge of Knowledge Objective: Establish and run a school aimed at teaching basic literacy, math, survival skills, and fostering understanding between goblin and human children within the next six months. Tasks: Secure a suitable location for the school that is accessible to both goblin and human communities. Recruit qualified teachers proficient in both goblin and human languages, as well as experienced in teaching basic literacy, math, and survival skills. Develop a curriculum that incorporates cultural sensitivity training, empathy-building exercises, and collaborative learning activities tailored to both goblin and human children. Obtain necessary resources such as textbooks, writing materials, educational tools, and facilities for practical survival skill training. Reach out to local goblin and human communities to encourage enrollment of children in the school and promote inter-species cooperation and understanding. Oversee the day-to-day operations of the school, ensuring a safe and inclusive learning environment for all students. Evaluate the effectiveness of the program through regular assessments and feedback from students, teachers, and community members. Reward: Satisfaction of fostering harmony and understanding between goblin and human communities. Recognition as a peacemaker and educator in both goblin and human societies. Opportunity to witness the positive impact of education on bridging cultural divides and promoting cooperation. Potential for future collaborations and partnerships aimed at furthering inter-species understanding and cooperation. "Who made this!" Matthew's tone was furious. The [System] stared at him, appearing in a tangible form as a young boy with straight but swirly black hair with brown highlights, wearing a white tuxedo-looking jacket with long, cuffed sleeves over a white suit and black pants. The outfit was full cotton except for the nylon pants. "I care about the wholesome of this world," he said. Knowing it was the [System], Matthew bit back his interrupting complaints and took a slow breath. "What's going on?" "I am here to adjust you along the right path since you've been in over your head lately. It would be great to see you survive the next coming days. There's been a goblin uprising in one human city, and though bloodless, their military coup isn't the final straw. They're going to coronate a leader intent on campaigning across the entire region." "I know about this. It's Mawkery, isn't it?" Before the [System] could say yes, Matthew continued: "But he's a bad leader. I saw him fail his attack against us. What's he up to now? How the hell did no one stop him?" "He won." "It doesn't make sense. No one's making it to the press or any kind of whatever without getting stopped by equally powerful... and ambitious people. That's the rules!" "What rules? Who decides whether someone lives or dies, wins or loses, and becomes king or stays a pauper?" "Who? Well, logic of course. This is not sound whatsoever!" "This world hasn't been sound for a while now, Matthew. If you've been watching and listening the whole time, why can't you accept that magic in this world is infallible in its chaos. It never leaves any rock unopened, especially those deemed to be impossible." Matthew stared for a while, holding onto his composure before he let off steam. "Fuck...!" He hadn't been thinking for a while. No, he had, but he could only assess everything so much. What did he work so hard for anyway? He was stuck to this land, and someone else got to power before him. That wasn't a logical train of thought. What did power have to do anything? What did being stuck have to do with anything? In the end, although sensible in some manners, his ideals and goals stood far from objectivity. They all rested upon his own rationale. When he saw that the [System] was not mad or disturbed, Matthew revealed his emotions: "Why now of all times? Is this a joke? Is my life a fucking joke? What am I? The entertainer? Was this you all along? I'm not mad... I'm just disappointed... No, I'm frustrated, and that... makes... me... a little bit... a tiny bit... "What's happening?" "You have little time." "No, what's happening! I don't care. No, I care, but I don't want to care—what's happening right now?" "We've been through this. The goblins are coming. Mawkery and everyone." "I just don't get it. Isn't it crazy that that old man was some fucking weirdo who—I don't know!—build weird shit? He was building a fucking building! I saw it! How did he do it! How...!? Tell me! Am I lying... Am I lying to my own..." He lost his train of thought, having expressed himself too much to his own tastes. The [System] remained impregnable in composure. "Do you need a friend?" "I need a friend, yes. I need someone to tell me that I'm fine." He suddenly remembered the younger siblings of the adventurers he knew, but he shrugged off that thought with the rest of his flashing thoughts. He said: "Am I going to sit down here... and pretend... that this isn't stupid or insane? Am I just going to accept things? You think... after trying so hard and improving so much. You think that I'm just going to say, 'Oh, right, you're so nice and cool and beautiful, awesome, wow!' You really think that? I..." He progressed to laughter. "It's funny. It really is. You claimed me. You turned me into your fucking swine. I am absolutely... 'combustled' or something..." He kept laughing, though growing quieter as time passed. He was left in a frown, looking down, sitting with his elbows resting against his neatly tucked legs. "Am I a fraud? Has all my successes been fake this whole time? Who am I? How did I get here? If anyone heard me cry and complain, they wouldn't think of me as anything at all. They would say, 'There's just no fucking way... that guy did anything with his... with everything.'" The rain poured in droves, and he was left to watch the sky again as always. He could compartmentalize himself into his successful heroic side and his fragile child self. How effective! Turning to the [System], he smiled sincerely. "Thank you... fucking... man." The [System] said with a spring of enthusiasm in his voice: "You are welcome!" For a moment after that, it was heavenly quiet. When Matthew realized the possible misinterpretation of his words, he laughed genuinely, although weakly. The [System] said: "You know... I haven't been completely transparent." "You think?" "I haven't been transparent at all. There?" Matthew sighed. The [System] continued: "First of all, you can call particular me, 'Godsunderer.' I'm a warrior from one thousand years ago, and I have been quested to provide quests to adventurers and other people like you." "Seriously? What the hell does that even mean? How does it work? Aren't you supposed to be like a force of the universe?" "I could be, but I'm not. This particular me that is." "You mean the you that's here now with me?" "Yes. So, if you want to know about the [System], the broader one, not just particular me, I'll tell you. So please be patient as I explain." "Why didn't you do that before?" "I didn't have to. Now, I have to, but I don't want to. So I'm going to explain it to you, whether I like or not." "Okay... Please and thank you." "As a reward for your efforts and struggle, let me explain how you came here from Earth. You came from Earth through a pod, which is not a flying space boat but more like a force." "A force?" "Yes, the [System] is powerful beyond measure, so see it as a god if you want to. But it has never acted on its own." "Are you sure about that? It should have a soul, given that it tells me what to do." "No, it's governed by the collection of everything. Everything impacts it." "What? "It doesn't have free will and a soul because it merely expresses data." "Huh. Wait a minute. Humans express data as well. How is that different?" "You have a body and a brain. The [System] is merely a mirror that mirrors back what it thinks should happen, and that is also somewhat random." "So you are not real?" "I am. I'm just not human or have a soul." "That doesn't make sense, but okay. Philosophy this that. What's next?" "The reason you were chosen was out of chance, and many came before you. Beware of them." "What..." "As for where you were transported in this world, that was also random." "Why here on this planet?" "Chance." "Why not on Jupiter or Mars?" "Chance." "So what happened to those who went to Jupiter and Mars then?" "No one did." "That doesn't make sense. There must be a reason for why I and others were sent here. If no one came to Jupiter and Mars, then why here? Why not in all billions of planets that don't have life?" "Chance." "Are you saying that it's out of chance that this planet was selected to receive most of the transported people?" "Yes." "You really aren't helping. Is that supposed to be? Are you supposed to be objective?" "Yes, but I don't have to be entirely 'objective'. I can say the information however I want. If it takes 3 years for me to explain something that could have been explained in 3 days, then so be it." "Seriously? Is there a time limit..." The [System] just said yes and didn't explain how long and why. Eventually, he said, "I will explain skills and how you got your high amount of levels." "Thank god." "Before that, your current skill [Whirlwind Waltz] is too strong, so we have decided to nerf it." Whirlwind Waltz (Level 1) Cost: 100 Mana Cooldown: 8 hours Cast Time: Instant -> 0.5 Effect Radius: 250 Active: The user gracefully dances, channeling for 0.5 seconds, colors flashing around them. After the channel, they create a whirlwind of energy around them that lasts for 4 seconds. Enemies within the whirlwind are lifted off the ground, unable to move or attack for 1.5 seconds. After the whirlwind dissipates, affected enemies are slowed by 30% for 2 seconds. Duration: 4 seconds Immobilization Duration: 1.5 seconds Slow Duration: 2 seconds This was so blatant that Matthew couldn't even speak out of confusion. "Huh..." The [System] continued: "Skills are things you use to dish out damage at your enemy, heal friends, and move faster, among other things. The reason you got levels was because the gods recognized you." "Recognized me how?" "They recognized you and felt that you existed." "Okay...?" "That's already a massive achievement." "So being recognized as something that exists is a massive achievement. Okay..." "Now, as for why your levels didn't amount to anything, I forgot." "'I forgot'?" "I forgot to send you the coordinates where you will be able to use your levels. Your situation is unique you see, and I also forgot to make sure that your [System] was working the first time." "That's why it was broken?" "That's why it was broken." "It wasn't because I was emotional and feeling the drive during that time?" "Yes." "That's insane... So why did I succeed until now? Wasn't that due to the [System]?" "Partly. But you are the one who carried yourself here. Don't blame anyone but yourself." "That's a weird way of phrasing it." For some reason, that was validating. "I also should tell you about the coordinates to your new anvil. It's where you get to spend your levels and distribute your points." "I already did? Why are you saying this?" "I forgot..." After pondering for a while, Matthew slowly said: "I did so much, and I made my own slice of pie in this world, having gone through a lot. It's not perfect, but I'm not leaving it. Where else can I go? [System], you're helping me a little, but right now, I would appreciate it if you gave me some space. I need to be alone right now."Chapter 17 - An Unexpected Conversation
After his failure to get anything useful from the [System] besides the fact that he now had a direct line to the [System], he returned to work. When he said he wanted to be alone, he meant it. He wasn't going to meet anyone he knew for now, even if it was Tamer, Sophia, Deathbringer, Michel, Ada, Kairo, Echo, Ella, Nova, Marcher, Rodney, King Aethelred III, Mawkery, Brandon, Brackern, Marsh Cranberry, Desmond Leroy, the six adventurers, Thorne, Elara, and Lumi, among tens of others. He needed to get away from the noise, but that was also because he had paperwork to fill in. It was a compilation of all the information he gained from experts, adventurers, and scribes. He was compiling it for himself, as he had begun keeping a commonplace book. He couldn't have the scribes do it due to cost contraints. It wasn't as if he had a functioning corporation dedicated to his goals and objectives. He had to compromise all the time just to get his goals and objectives partially finished. He never got a full completion, as most joint projects and missions often required much of his time for the benefit of the majority, which meant that it would take time and trust for everyone to cooperate and benefit effectively. He was not the center of the universe, and so he patterned his ends toward sustainability and cooperation, even if it meant engaging in activities that only contributed to trust and not to his own targets. In the long run, this would be better for him, but it wasn't going to be satisfying. He was pretty much holding onto threads that many other people could interact with at any time. If he so much as thought he could grasp all the threads, he would be pulling peoples' hairs in the process. They all had to share responsibilities and tasks for one common goal. What this looked like was that he no longer attended adventurer parties as an independent but as part of the adventurer guild cooperative. But he wondered. Why did he have to sit down here and play with these fools? "They belonged to me! Me alone!" His thoughts sometimes sounded irrational, but that was because he was still sorting himself. He returned to analysis and incorporated his past strategic terrain assessment of the city with respect to a particular front, among other previous events. The quests were instrumental in casting a numerous highlights across a map where he had strong memory. On the map, he traced several overall lines that exposed the distribution of importance between isolated prior experiences, tying them all up in a strong ribbon. However, even with knowledge, the only way it would be useful was by spreading the various roles needed to undertake any operation requiring it. But the issue was costs and profitability. Looking outside, he had an idea. He saw several adventurers near the large fence wall in front of the city gates. Passing by several stalls and groups of civilians, he felt pretty isolated. When he reached the gates, he spotted two beggars at the side and a group of adventurers discussing in front of the fence wall. This place looked closed off for wagons and such, so it might have been a gathering point before leaving and entering. This was a new place, and his fellow adventurers didn't usually pass here with him. He approached the adventurers. He said, "What is beyond this fence?" "Several dungeons off to the side," said a tall guy among them. "You can check the board for more." He pointed to a board hanging outside the city gate above the two beggars. Seeing that the adventurers were eager to resume their discussion, he thanked them and left, walking up to the board. "What is this? Why is it outside?" The two beggars looked at him and something behind him before saying, "Sir, there's a wagon." Matthew moved out of the way of a passing wagon that stopped moments later. Two children hopped off the hay bale on the wagon, walking up to the front where their bearded father pointed at the forest beyond the fences. "Wanna go now?" said the father. "We can wait." Matthew returned his focus to the board where he saw several quests written in ink. "Rabbit needed." "Dead help." "Soldier at least, save dog." The writing was very simple and enough to convey the general idea. Before he felt that they were so simple so as to forget to provide a location, he realized that upon touching the papers where the quests were written, he magically knew the direction he had to go to. Matthew widened his eyes, realizing that this was probably what adventurer team leaders experienced since they were often the ones who had to pick quests. It was his first time doing a quest alone after all. He took the "Dead help" quest, glancing one last time at the adventurers, the family, and the beggars. Passing through the gate, he saw the mountain in the distance. "This place is so small." Later, he reached the destination, a small cottage in the middle of the forest with a pond nearby. He was still within the boundaries of the city, but it was outside the city gates. A group of ducks and one bigger swan gathered on the vegetation. They all took turns eating the fallen leaf of a banana tree, and it took a good thirty minutes before Matthew wanted to leave. Eventually, he knocked on the cottage door, smelling faint booze in the air. It wasn't strong, but he knew that it was only a few hours since a bottle was opened. When a person with visibly long hair, a lady's clothes, and a helmet emerged behind the door, he took a step back, worried that he might hurt her. He had been worrying over the potential dangers of a lone cottage in the middle of the forest since he lived in one as well. Though, his cottage was only 250 meters away from the nearest neighbor. "Who are you?" said the woman. "Are you the first adventurer? I've been expecting one since last month. I'm surprised no one answered." "Is that so?" Matthew didn't know the frequency in which adventurers answered board quests at the previous location, among other details, so he couldn't help her there. "Yes, it would be great if you guys answered quicker. Come with me." She closed the door and led Matthew past a familiar place. Matthew remembered that an upside-down, unfinished canoe was here some time ago. He could still see the remnants of the wood used. "Was there a boat here?" he said. The woman slowed down before halting completely. She smiled and said: "Yes. Why?" "Nothing. Just asking." The woman led him down a long slope on a muddy path. It reminded Matthew of the place where he first arrived here on this world. As soon as they reached the end of the path, it led to a hill that took some effort to climb. But even when they reached the top, it kept going upward. It was a mountain after all. In the end, the woman showed him a human body that had been decaying for a while now. Matthew stopped before manually breathing. "Okay, I'll fix it up." He took out a bag big enough to fit the body and scooped the body up. Once he was done, the woman led him back and inside the cottage, and she gave him soup to eat. "What's this?" "Sopas." "It's good. It reminds me..." Sopas existed in this world too. If only he could eat rice here, then his sanity would be saved. "My mother used to cook it when I was little, but several years ago, she passed... I now live in this ancestral home of hers, and I have no one else to help me take care of it. Care to listen?" "Okay...?" "I would like you to stay with me for several days while I go look for a husband. It won't take long, but I was hoping to sign a contract as well. I can beat anyone. It's just that I'm worried that this cottage will go unattended to for too long. It has magical properties you see that require a constant supply of mana to prevent it from termite damage." "Okay. So me being here is enough? Where's this contract?" She leaned backward, her eyes shifting around the inside of the cottage. She stood up suddenly and turned around. "Oh." She opened cabinets, chests, and containers, looking for a specific paper. "This was hard to get, so I'm really hoping that I don't lose it." "Why? You can just get it... Oh." Contracts usually were in the form of paper, and they were produced with the help of an adventurer guild. "Yeah, I had to walk a little. I don't like walking even if I walk everyday and trek." Later, she took the contract paper out from a small box. "Found it!" When she presented it to him, he took a deep breath and stared at the words. "That's not a language that I know." "Oh, shoot. That's a letter from a friend." "This looks elvish." "Elvish?" "Yeah, I heard it from a friend, and I saw it from her too." "Sophia?" "No—yeah, that's her. How did you know?" "I met her 14 years ago at an event. Why? How do you know her?" "I met her 3 months ago. I was struggling that time, and she helped me." "What's she like now?" "I don't know. What was she like before?" "Very loud." "Very?" "Yeah, she would always boast about her new job as a healer's assistant, and that was all I remember from her since we last met." "Really?" "Yeah. How's your Sophia?" "Well, Sophia now is normal..." "Normal?" "She's fine with goblins dying, but that's it." "Everyone's fine with goblins dying. What do you mean?" "Oh, I meant a different way of dying, but whatever. Continue." He pointed at the contract paper. After he read the paper, he signed it, and the woman made her exit, leaving the cottage to him as proposed. Before signing, they exchanged personal details, and she said her full name was "Drakekiller Rollingthunder." "Weird name as usual." He furrowed his brows with a smile in good humor before turning around with thought. "Am I the weird one?" The cottage was quiet, but it was enough to give him some peace of mind. Everything lately was been about progress and intervention, changing the landscape of goblins, humans, and monsters. It was hard for him not to find it all too bewildering. His previous job on Earth was that of a coder, but now, he was a state-sanctioned murderer. Indeed, the government treated the removal of goblins similar to how they treated animals, farmland, and pests. Taking the forefront of his focus, birds called loudly with repeating sounds. It was strange, but it was the morning. So he wasn't too bothered about it. He saw many kinds of plants as he walked around the cottage. But he was most intrigued by the ducks, swan, and dog in sight. This was the natural world that carried on unabated despite the fast life of the city. He still had the body he collected earlier, but Drakekiller made him do the quest of staying here in this cottage. So he forgot about it. Forgetting that reminded him of the [System], which reminded him of the older man and the disgusting man. They were just a series of ugly memories. He remembered that this place was near the village that he, the late Marcher, and the rest of the adventurers in his first adventurer party visited. He didn't want to check it out because it represented troublesome memories of knowing that Marcher was dead, but it did remind him of the time he started making friends at the inn because that was around the time that happened. Many things happened in the first month he was in this world, but things slowed down around the second month. However, it was only in this last third month that he felt that he was finally becoming stable. It was the fourth month now. Seated, he leaned against the table, laying his upper body against it. He descended to mindfulness. Meanwhile, two adventurers were walking nearby, having incapacitated a goblin. They had been dragging it for 5 kilometers. They passed by several village, the edge of the city, and many cottages, but it was only now that they decided to stop. Matthew heard them and went outside, greeting them with a polite wave. When the two sat down on the ground, Matthew hesitated between accomodating them inside or having a conversation with them outside. When he decided, he sat on his haunches in front of them and joined their conversation. "Remember when they killed that white-fleshed dude at the tournament?" said one of the adventurer, a 26-year-old woman named "Abyssalfurnace." "It was fucking awesome!" "Yeah," said the second adventurer, a 24-year-old man named "Herblord." "It was so awesome that they didn't notice preparing the spell before it was already too late. He managed to punish them real hard. It was crazy that he was able to pull that off though. If he picked better spells, he would have won either way, but the fact that he was allowed because he picked rotten spells. And the fact that he pulled it off. That guy was pretending to be weak!" "Yeah, it's so weird seeing someone with such a high level of finesse with bad abilities. If I was him, I would exchange it fast, but honestly, maybe it's better. I've seen how flexible they can be used, but they're usually not good at anything in particular. So I don't really see why I should be flexible when I can just pick the abilities that counter common build paths." Matthew added: "Oh, I don't know what tournaments you're talking about, but I have seen the one at Jussu Forest." He was referring to the one that Rodney had shown him and where he learned about spells more from the skill practitioner. He immediately remembered his conversations with his brothers about video games. They were usually like this. After nostalgically reminiscing for a moment, he continued to listen. Abyssalfurnace said: "Yeah, my favorite combo in this case was the combination of [Whirlwind Waltz] and [Spectral Strike]. That's a strong combination, right?" Herblord said: "No, not really. There are better combinations. I'd say that [Shifting Shadows] and [Whirlwind Waltz] is better since it's more spammable and safer. But some damage is fine. Of course, I've only judging based on what I've seen." Matthew knew these spells from the spell list the [System] had showed him, but the more they talked, the more they mentioned spells he didn't know. After the discussion, Abyssalfurnace and Herblord left, pulling along the goblin still struggling against the ropes. Matthew was starting to think that this was all a video game, especially with the names. He didn't realize it earlier, but people's names read exactly like usernames. He looked around and almost had an existential crisis, but people never mentioned anything like a "real life" or modern politics or anything. So it was likely only that this world resembled video games a lot. If this was just like a video game, maybe, all he had to do was rank up or level up. If he grinded for experience, levels, and new skills, then maybe the [System] would help him more. He realized that he had been subjecting this entire world to his idea of real life since that was all he knew. And this world was pretty much reality. He couldn't pretend that this world was a video game because he was not sitting at a computer desk playing video games. He was walking around in real life and seeing things in real life. His bias was natural, yet he wished he saw the world as a video game much sooner. In the end, all the suffering really made this world feel like living in modern day, but with even more suffering. It didn't have that dreamy and comforting aspect of games. It was hell since the first day. He looked at his only spell again. Whirlwind Waltz (Level 1) Cost: 100 Mana Cooldown: 8 hours Cast Time: 0.5 Effect Radius: 250 Active: The user gracefully dances, channeling for 0.5 seconds, colors flashing around them. After the channel, they create a whirlwind of energy around them that lasts for 4 seconds. Enemies within the whirlwind are lifted off the ground, unable to move or attack for 1.5 seconds. After the whirlwind dissipates, affected enemies are slowed by 30% for 2 seconds. Duration: 4 seconds Immobilization Duration: 1.5 seconds Slow Duration: 2 seconds "I wonder... can I actually level this up?"Chapter 18 - The Transformation of Witchman
Matthew changed his name and adopted a new persona—"Witchman." Witchman looked around inside an inn and discovered several different doors through which he could enter. He didn't want to bother anyone, but he was beginning to get the feeling that he was already bleeding through the cracks. These doors were imaginary, as they were actually groups of people that offered distinct opportunities, depending on how well he was received. The more he invested into destroying his old self, the more smoother he would integrate into this world. After finding out that none of the groups were willing to engage with him, he visited the adventurer guild as if nothing happened, claiming a corner where he could set up and wait for newbies to enter the guild. From time to time, children around the ages of 11 to 17 entered the guild, looking to join an adventurer party about to head to a quest. So having prepared himself nicely, sitting by himself, he managed to absorb 0 children. But that was alright. He waited several days, abandoning several commitments. The guild was also on the remote side of town, far from the general area he encountered people he knew. After waiting for two hours everyday for several weeks, he realized that this was fruitless; however, he was able to relax himself in the meantime, considering that he was burnt out. Sure, his momentum had stopped, but taking breaks was the only way he could tear apart new ground. Witchman walked to a nearby inn where he sat down and decided to try approaching goblins in the forest to test out their willingness to engage with him. He wanted to know if he could convince them to play along with him somehow. He wanted to try simple requests with the promise of reward, but he didn't know it was possible. He was experimenting. This was all one wild hypothetical, but if he was right, the rewards were priceless. At the inn, he mouthed: "Should I call them? Nah..." When he went to the forest, he was quickly apprehended by the wind, striking him forward and bolstering him. It turned him into a determined freak on the loose. He came upon a goblin that spotted him, but he was faster at long distances, catching him by the neck. For some reason, the wildness tucked in his heart burst out, zooming through and all around the goblins' body. A finger explored every inch of the goblin's neck, as a blade reached out from his side, frightening the goblin. After this encounter, he tied it up and sat on his haunches, standing up periodically due to muscle ache. "I need your help," he said. The goblin understood. "Of what kind?" "The kind that allows me to see if you're capable of doing simple tasks." Along with his mention of "tasks," he revealed a dangling bag of coins. "I need to see hands." The goblin understood again, raising his head before nodding. "I can do it." "Good..." Witchman grinned. Several days later, Witchman saw the same goblin here again, having tried checking the adventurer guild again for anyone willing to partner with him. Today, he brought two 15-year-olds and the goblin together. "What's next?" he asked to verify their understanding. "We'll be looking around for any hidden entrances," said the 15-year-olds. Witchman said: "Yes, that's right. I've always wondered how easy magic can manipulate the earth, and now I'm wondering whether there are underground tunnels that I can't see." As soon as they looked around, the children immediately found signs of digging, but Witchman, after coming over, recognized that it might have just been someone disturbing the ground. He concluded that this was fruitless and abandoned the mission, paying the children and the goblin for their work. Again, he went to the adventurer guild, but this time, he joined a party looking for a healer. He offered his skills as a healer, and they led him to a dungeon. There, Witchman healed several domesticated goblin miners. Deeper in the dungeon, giant scorpions and spiders roamed around. Witchman waited for the adventurers to move. As soon as one spider came close where the adventurers hid behind the corner, the fight began. The spider was strung along and beaten around, being pulled and pushing in various directions. Eventually, it collapsed with part of its head missing. Spiders and scorpions kept their distance since they didn't want to get stuck in the chokepoint where the adventurers were. This space that led to the entrance where the goblin miners worked was too tight for the giant monters. And the area and passage only grew tighter the closer the monsters approached the adventurers. As soon as the monsters detected magic and ranged attacks, they backed off behind the corners. Witchman was expected to move forward with the adventurers, since this could very well result in poisoning and subsequent death. If he didn't heal them fast enough, they would die, which was why they didn't go yet. The adventurers had planned to chip away at the monsters, hoping to get lucky today. However, they only killed one spider. As a result, they postponed the quest until tomorrow. The next day, Witchman and two other healers joined the adventurers' frontal assault. This led to numerous scratches and instances of bleeding that required the healers' quick attention. The adventurers were composed of seven individuals: a barbarian, a foot soldier, a red dwarf, an archer, an elven spearman, a beastman, and a bard. The barbarian moved next to the foot soldier and the beastman. The red dwarf, the archer, the elven spearman, and the bard stayed at the flanks. The beastman used a screaming spell to distort several enemies' vision. The foot soldier mitigated damage by casting a shielding spell upon the barbarian and the beastman. She himself stayed a short distance behind to slash any flank attacks within their small formation. The bard sung quickly to slow down pouncing spiders. She also was the one who stunned scorpions during their attack movement. The archer finished off stunned scorpions since that was the most accurate time to shoot. That was her sole objective. The eleven spearman kept watch at smaller spiders trying to attack near the rear, striking them down with precise thrusts. His movement was limited since the smaller monsters commanded a wider arc of attack due to their size. The red dwarf stomped the eggs that the spiders summoned during the fight. If they were left alone, they birthed small spiders. Since he had a blacksmith's physical prowess, he could smash the hard eggs easily with brute smithing strength. But he was vulnerable during this time since the eggs were situated among the enemies. The barbarian and foot soldier safeguarded the red dwarf by taunting the enemies and blitzkrieging through the enemies. As a result, during their weak disengage, the healers focused on keeping them alive. The beastman kept the group alive by standing still an waiting for an opportunity to engage, having the strongest damage and the weakest disengage. The fight continued, and several monsters had spells of their own, managing to pin down the red dwarf and stunning him long enough for the elven spearman to have to step in. Since the spearman was distracted, the archer stopped her shooting at the scorpions to finish off the uncontested small monsters. The bard didn't stop stunning scorpions and slowing down spiders, but the scorpions didn't die. So the barbarian and foot soldier disengaged to regroup and shift their focus on the scorpions. After they helped finish off the small monsters that tried killing them, the beastman went in to defend the group from the scorpions that were increasing in numbers. Defending the group resulted in a lost opportunity for him to go in at the perfect time to annihilate them all. The group retreated slightly, bringing the monsters closer to the chokepoint. The monsters were attacking much more frontally now, but the small monsters were increasing in numbers since most of them were far at the back. These ones climbed the walls and engaged in aerial assaults, jumping like projectiles that venom. This was impossible to defeat, so the party retreated, killing off the smaller monsters that could continue the chokepoint. Since the party had a strong advantage here, the monsters retreated; ultimately, the party was the one who lost. At the end of the assault, the party rested, returning to the entrance. On the next attack, the party focused on keeping the enemies at a distance by relying on the archer and the bard to keep the enemy back. They also had hired two mages and two archers to add to the count. Their range attacks stopped the monsters from pushing into the chokepoint enough that the eggs could easily spawn without interference. Since the smaller monsters died after a short amount of time after spawning, the eggs had to be spawned during the fight. A group of monsters made an effective formation, charging via a flank far from the center of ranged fire. Consequently, the rest of the melee adventurers zoned them out, frustrating them. In response to the party's new strength, more monsters flooded in to support the defence. Since the new monsters were numerous enough to demand caution of possible skills, the adventurers backed off. This allowed the monsters to reach the chokepoint again and control it as an objective. On the third attack, the adventurers shot far-range attacks at the chokepoint to scare off the monsters stationed there. They were also checking for spells from the monsters. After placing a ward that revealed the monsters briefly before being destroyed, the frontline adventurers burst forward, slaying the several monsters stationed there. The rest of the monsters were charging already to prevent the adventurers from taking full control enough to shoot them from afar again. However, the adventurers had hired several enchanters to block their path immediately with short-range disruptive spells. The party regained control of the monster wave, slaying tens of them suddenly. The area became a new objective. At the end of the assault, the leaders gathered everyone together for payment, relaxing. Since Witchman didn't have qualifications, he was not paid as handsomely as the two other healers. It wasn't as if he did as well as them anyway. The quest ended like that, with the adventurers mentioning that the next stretch inside the dungeon was too challenging for now.Chapter 19 - The Forum's Guidance
After several days, the [System] returned to talk to him, but it had something in mind. Having been following hundreds of interesting individuals in this world, it offered Witchman a new solution as a reward for an entertaining perfomance during the previou quest. This solution was the ability to use the private messaging function of the [System]. Witchman, when he saw it, didn't know how to respond, having spent so much time already delving deep in this world and growing tired emotionally from all the pressure and suffering. Even if he killed others with a smile on his face, he did it because he felt that nothing else could be done. He had to detach himself from the old world. First, he said impetuously: "What's this all about? First, you don't answer my questions. Now, you reveal yourself to me like nothing happened. If there is a reason, do tell." Even if he might consider himself an intellectual, he had an intellectual blind spot when it came to the [System], blaming it for bringing him here in the first place. It was the sole reason why he was now dead in his old world. It killed him and turned him into something he didn't want to be. How could he ever forgive it? Even if he was rational, some things just looked for a beating. The [System] ignored him and forced him to send a friend request to a particular person named "Mark Reader". [Witchman 💀💀💀: Hello, I forgot that I shouldn't be contacting newbies. But welcome to the world. I'm also from Earth. I notice you've been ignoring my friend requests for a while now, so I've been spamming you the whole time. Plus, I notice your name's changed? How did you do that? Weren't you Sophia Strong before?] These were the [System]'s words, particularly since it had been trying to contact Sophia Strong for a while now. But Sophia died, so it wanted to see how Mark Reader responded. The [System] was a manager of millions of people. [Mark Reader: Oh nice!] Looking at everything that happened recently, Witchman reflected on his life. He wanted to abandon the past, as three months was already too long to know someone. Back on Earth, he remembered knowing people over the course of 6 years, but he only met them every few months at events. Three months of having regular contact with someone in the same city was enough to make Witchman tired of it all. He wanted to get away. Maybe, if he was a child again, he would be content with exploring the world from 11 years old to 16 years old again. But he was 25 years old, and he was already mature enough to know when to quit if it was already beginning to consume him. In the end, all of those things he considered successes were all part of a broader picture, system, and community that he could never truly comprehend in a deeper level. All he could was be normal again and save himself despite all the success his job and his life offered him at hte time. He wanted to escape being top 1 rising adventurer. He wanted to escape being all of that. He just wanted to be human again. He hurried out of there and disappeared where he returned to the adventurer guild, his head becoming clearer when he discovered the [Forums]. He wsan't only now capable of private messaging. He could only see a forum where he could post and chat. It was exactly like back on Earth with the Internet, but with the [System]. Since he wanted to leave the past behind, he ventured forth and decided to begin posting. He created three new threads in the category "General". Their titles were the following. [Found diamond at 65 y.] [Survive the disasters ist still the best spell.] [Ninja tabis!] They were all references from his favorite video games, but the [System] had already told him that most of the people here were not from Earth. However, he soon got a reply on his thread. [poker_man29: ? Where can I get this] He didn't want to continue the conversation, so he looked around himself, being inside an inn again. The inn was composed of two floors with a lobby room and a kitchen-dining room attached to a bathroom and a yard outside for clothes and washing dishes. The second floor was where the three rooms were located. These rooms ranged from medium-sized with a window and a bathroom to small with little wind to a little under medium-sized with a window and a balcony. He was currently sitting at the lobby, laying his back against a bamboo seat. The windows were made of metal with strange patterns. Whenever someone tried to touch it or play around with the window frames, the inn keeper told them off. He tried so many things, but nothing really worked. He realized that doing things alone was too difficult, and experimenting took too long to bear any significant fruit. He had only one option remaining—the [Forums]. He checked the forums and asked for help, being anonymous. [Witchman 💀💀💀 What should I do everyone? I've been trying my best to work it out on my own as an adventurer, but it seems that this world is pretty much set on killing me.] He noticed that around 7,000 people were online in the whole forum, but the members were even greater at around 10 million. Several people answered him quickly, saying that he should just buy orbs and spell manuscripts in order to rank up quickly. It was often cheaper to focus on spam-buying these items to make sure that one got the benefits of a higher rank. It was only about benefits and standing. Even if one's skills were not that high, as long as one proved himself to be effective and flexible, they would succeed quickly. Witchman was surprised because none of his adventurer friends heeded this advice. In fact, none of them said a word about spell manuscripts or orbs. He came to the conclusion that he had been stuck in a community that was lackluster in fighting skill and knowledge. He thanked the replies and continued asking what kind of orbs and spell manuscripts were the best and where could he get them. The replies swarmed him with details, saying that it was advisable to avoid markets in the meantime and focus on exploring villages that often generated manuscripts. They explained that each community magically received iron golems overtime, but they also received spell manuscripts and orbs. Some replies said that near the heart of cities where population was highest, the government often grabbed them and ensured that they never fell into adventurer hands to maintain their power. But in villages, they didn't greed over them as much, so they just tucked it away. As for the reason why adventurers and foot soldiers didn't just take manuscripts from villages, it was because the city gave towns and villages the right to keep any generated loot they received. Witchman asked why the city didn't just create thousands of villages to maximize producing spell manuscripts and such. He got replies that corrected him, saying that villages didn't necessarily produce manuscripts faster. In fact, cities generated manuscripts the fastest, but they often used this to make their cities cheap to live in. It was much more collaborative. This contradicted an earlier statement that said that the government were greedy to maintain power. Then, he realized that the replies were divided in their opinions when it came to the government. In the end, he got some context, but nothing conclusive. Since he now called himself Witchman, he registered as a new adventurer, giving him time to explore easy quests. He did this only after he made the quest with the goblin and the two fifteen-year-olds since his privileges to hire others the way he did would be lost. After all his attempts to distance himself, he pulled the pin and contacted certain six adventurers he knew, agreeing to meet at the city. He wore a yellow jacket with silver markings over a purple surcoat, a heavy-duty belt, among other accessories. As soon as he reached a meeting place at a cafeteria, he noted several older men, worried he would meet the crazy old man again. Over the course of thirty minutes, the six adventurers appeared one by one, sitting down and talking about tournaments, employees, and co-workers. It was a typical conversation held between those a step above the pauper. Witchman saw them with his more accustomed eyes. Zephyrine Quill—a man wearing a silver-colored frame shaped like a curved horn around his head, a brown surcoat, red tunic, and short trousers, sporting hairy legs and large feet—opened up his book, putting on his glasses and leafing to a particular page, showing it to Thaddeus. He was particular about the way he leafed his pages, worried that he might disturb the peace that the books held for so long in their smooth carefulness. "Finish this quote," he said, his voice dark and crispy like loaves of bread crushed upon one another. "It's supposed to be the longest." Thaddeus Pumpernickel—a man holding several ducks belonging to his children, having brought them to keep them fed while his wife and children were away from home—said, "'The best know how to wield it'—was it?" His arms looked thin, but as soon as he reached out, his arms bulged, showing off a hidden side of his more caring personality. His sword was in a sheathe, and it was a matter of personality whether one brought a weapon or not, as many mage societies considered it indiscreet and rude to do so. He wore a large cloak that allowed him to disguise his usually humble form with a broader and more sturdy demeanor. Seraphina Wisteria—a woman with an angelic blouse embracing her legs and keeping her waist unhindered. The loosest aspects of her blouse sprouted in the form of extra cloth flaps arranged throughout her sleeves like plates of armor. Her face was strongly defined, but her chin was smooth, harmonizing with her round bends of her shoulders. Her blouse was split into several different blends: purple-yellow, red-blue, and black-white. Inspired by Witchman's former party, she incorporated the purple-yellow mix into her outfit. Her smile was radiant, tearing away the weaknesses her free-flowing and adventurous blouse might exude. She sat down next to Thaddeus, gazing at the small bumps in her cut mango. Mortimer Quixote was a man looking forward to a good show, having donned several different small tomahawks behind his back. He didn't like sitting down too much, so he was often standing around and openly pointing at the sky whenever he made a point. "Richard didn't get matched with the right guy. He fell apart so fast! Honestly, didn't think he's make it that far. But the fact that he was willing to change his name and go ahead with the tournament after that. Commendable!" He was referring to the tournaments. Calliope Snickerdoodle, a woman slowly walking away from the group, buying several amulets that she then wore. As soon as she wore them, they disappeared, becoming absorbed into her stats. She grew stronger each time she consumed a new and distinct enough amulet. It was one of her passive skills [Dog Tag Matcher]. She only wore a pale-red tunic with short sleeves and underwear. "I didn't think they'd actually make it!" she said. Despite her simpler look, she had a boisterous voice at times. Bartholomew Wombatish was a young man acting as a representative for his boss. He wore the usual adventurer outfit. He merely smiled subtly and gave a concise answer in response to any questions or statements toward him.Chapter 20 - Being Honest For Once
Witchman watched the six adventurers talking, and his voice was immediately high as part of his plan to keep them engaged: "Isn't it great that we're all here together?" But Calliope saw through him and immediately called him out: "What are you saying? Are we going to the tournament or not?" Witchman tried again: "Do you guys remember when I was able to get so many people together? I was wondering if we could do that again." Bartholomew didn't get what he was trying to say, so he proclaimed, "We can just wait until Mr. Ron has the resources. He's the one who really got us all together. It's a good thing Michel is already helping out with the quests on the south." Witchman's third try involved him showing them the various weapons and armor he bought throughout his time in this world. He said that if they helped him, he would give these equipment to them. But Mortimer was not that impressed, so with a loud voice, he put him down: "It's not that good. Don't kid yourself." Witchman tried for the fourth time, expressing that he could easily help them as a warder. The adventurer who hadn't spoken yet, Seraphina, smirked. "Your skills are not that good, but thanks for being here anyway." She didn't sound sincere at all. She made it sound as if he was just a peasant groveling before them all this time. Witchman didn't understand. He thought he was the one pulling the strings. When was he the fallen one? When was he the man being convinced that he was better? Wasn't it supposed to be them? He didn't realize it, but no matter how much he knew, it would never compare to those who lived in this world. So anything he offered was a mere joke compared to what adventurers really had. His self-perception was false and built on a dream. All this time, the trauma from getting tortured from the goblins contributed to his desire to cope by perceiving his circumstances as exceedingly in his favor. But he was wrong. He watched the adventurers standing before him with a perspective. Was he an adventurer? Was he a fraud? The thing was... these adventurers didn't even look that serious or angry with him. In fact, it was almost as if they were in tune and stating an established fact. When did he become so delusional? He stopped himself and remembered everything again. All this time of getting help from others and perceiving himself as the maestro of all the operations around him was his own arrogance. The fact that he was easily repelled by the six adventurers confirmed that he didn't have a strong hold on them this whole time. He already knew that people were fickle, but he didn't think it would to this degree. No, he was great. He had to be. All this time, effort, and struggle had to mean something. He couldn't just accept that he was a fraud. He gritted his teeth, but he couldn't just walk away. Maybe, he was just being sensitive about his ego and misunderstanding things. So he tried for the fifth time because he didn't like the way the discussion ended earlier: "What can I do?" "Just talk to your seniors Deathbringer and Sophia. They know much better than you do." "What?" He didn't hide his shock. Deathbringer and Sophia were so immature compared to him. He had gone so far just for them to be above him. He had to calm himself. His thoughts were becoming irrational due to how much success he had achieved and how much independence he now held. He was hiding insecurities, so it was natural for him to be easily offended to the point of defending himself at every turn. He trusted these people. It didn't make sense that they were betraying him now. He worked so hard to make these people happy. He worked so hard to survive in this world and go through the struggles these people did. And they were abandoning him? He didn't deserve this. It wasn't right. It wasn't correct. He saw the sun, a symbol of power. He deserved it. He wanted it. He tried again to calm his thoughts, but he was so pissed off. He didn't get it. He thought he could just murder goblins and do things that no one else could do in an impossibly short amount of time without experiencing any setbacks and repercussions. So now all of that was a lie? Why? He didn't understand. It couldn't be. He deserved his success, and he was being gaslit into believing that he was a fraud. He was so in shock because no one ever treated him this way. No one ever questioned him. No one treated him like he was nothing. He had been spoiled this whole time? No way! He deserved this success and power. Sure, others helped him, but it couldn't have been done without him. He was practically the sole reason he was here! Was he a child being carried along? Was he a figurehead? Was this the case? He started to reflect. He was frail when he first came here, practically a baby being ruined. He couldn't bear to think about the torture. He couldn't bear it. He remembered Sophia and how she saved him. But it didn't make sense. How the hell did he even live? She healed him, and he just accepted it. But later, he doubted that he could just accept it like that forever. So he soon went to Sophia to ask her about healing. He later learned healing himself with the Kindness quest. But why the hell was he wrong about everything? The [System] was guiding him this whole time and even gave him skills. Was he wrong to believe that the [System] was right about him? Or was he interpreting the [System] wrong this whole time? He didn't understand why everything he built was all his own self-perception. He wasn't arrogant. He really did put in the effort. He was sorry that he said that he was the sole reason for his success. But he still wanted to understand what the hell happened. He went to the war and saw people die. So was that what caused him to think that things were like that? He wasn't mentally unstable. He was able to get so many things done, and he got burned out at times. But there was no way that he was wrong about everything. He wasn't a fraud. He was being lied to. He stood up and left. He was being gaslit. There was no way everything he knew was a lie. But why did these six adventurers do this to him? Weren't they his friends? Why did they say those words? Why did they just treat him like shit? He didn't understand. Why did people do things anyway? Why was he here? Why did he go through all the effort? He couldn't have been so traumatized to have become delusional. He was clearly fine. He was only tired in the night and sometimes got angry. He sometimes became impulsive, but he learned how to cope just fine. He made sure to take breaks and take care of himself. He thought about the goblins a lot, but did he? Did he really think about what he felt about the goblins? He never questioned himself. He never questioned his behavior. He was doing things, and he didn't know why. All he knew was that he was doing the things he was doing. Was it because this society engineered him to be that way? To be the way he was right now. To have done the things he had done? He didn't do them. It was this society that caused him to be this way. But he used to be a regular guy with a life back on Earth. He wasn't at all weird or strange that he would become evil enough to kill anything. But why did he kill goblins? Why did he go to battles and tear out goblin flesh with a spear? Why could he do it? How did he do it? He had so much potential. Yet, he never questioned himself. Was he just being dragged along all this time? He didn't have time to think about things. Was it all a lie? No, it couldn't be. He had fun. He had friends. He had great experiences. He was happy. But he ran away from it all to become someone else. He was Witchman now. Why did he run? Did he knew that this was the case? Was he pretending all this time? He was, wasn't he? He couldn't keep pretending for too long. He couldn't keep being that guy. Top 1 rising adventurer. Greatest man in the world. He chuckled. In the end, all those expectations people had of him were right, but they were also wrong. He did do his best, and he succeeded. But he couldn't handle it anymore. He never addressed the issues, but now he was. He was now Witchman because he wanted a break. But he realized it had been many days now. He didn't want that life at all. He never had time to think about things without having a schedule on his back. Even when he took a break, he was already planning to leave to meet people at events and quests and all these plans. He realized he never truly had a break. He walked to the forest. How could he be such a fool? He was being tasked to be something that he wasn't. No, maybe he was misinterpreting things. The adventurers were not mad at him. They were not saying that he was doing nothing necessarily. He might have misunderstood. He was already having doubt about being a fraud, and he misunderstood. He returned to the six adventurers. "Hey guys, you were just kidding right?" "What?" said one of them. "Did you leave because of that? I mean, of course we were joking." "No, I was just surprised. I just went for a walk to check... around... I'm new to the place is all." He needed to forget what he just did. He felt ashamed for overreacting, but he realized now just how overwhelming his life was to be this fragile. He was practically a toothpick one second away from bursting. It still didn't make sense to him. He had negative preconceptions of himself. It's not that he had been treated badly. In fact, he had mostly been treated well by others. But he was someone who had only recently came to this fantasy magical world. He was transported from Earth only about three months prior. So his massive success was relatively quick. He did make sure to take breaks and take care of himself regularly throughout the three months, but he was still struggling. How unfortunate! In the end, he was wrong about adventurers' words. It humanized him because it showed that the adventurers didn't see him as a god or maestro but as a fellow person. So they weren't surprised that he was struggling in his own way. They treated him like a person, and it was an accident that their joking got misinterpreted, especially since Witchman hadn't been communicative about his personal struggles. In other words, if he shared more about his vulnerabilities before, this situation wouldn't have happened. Certainly, he only cried in front of someone several times in this world as far as he knew, and he didn't know how to express his struggles without doing so. So he had avoided the topic to preserve his sense of dignity. All in all, they resumed discussing about important matters while tasting delicious food. For the first time in a long time, he was sure that he could do anything in this world, having been able to be honest with himself for once. It wasn't about being honest with others more than with himself.Chapter 21 - Embracing the Epitome: A Journey Towards Self-Realization
Witchman began to look around the city. Now that he was much more confident, he immediately paid attention to his surroundings in order to cultivate his intelligence. These were his findings as well as his interpretations of his environment, both put through the lens of his Earth knowledge and his gained knowledge as an adventurer that had been socially active for three months on this world. An inn pressed against the foot of a hill, reaching out with its bamboo-fabricated frame and stilts and thatched roofing, its overhangs stretching widely, the floor made of breathable, rain-proof slats. When it came to its regulars, their feet had acclimated to the heat absorbed by the pebble steps leading inside. The sun spread heat throughout the outdoor area, warming many pebbles but ultimately concluding with a visual diagonal cut, missing the other pebbles under the overhangs within the shade. The use of pebbles as steps was the customary method of constructing paths. Presumably, pebble steps were standard even if they accrued heat because they were more breathable, cooler, and cheaper than cobblestone paths and better than direct mud. For baby-sensitive shoe-loving feet like Witchman's though, pebbles were still unbearably hot that he insisted on wearing sandals. Going barefoot, with its better traction and adaptability, was more normal since the land expected much more naked interaction with the most diverse flora and fauna that rainforests hosted, the mountainous terrain, and the moving of huts, among others. Anyway, in addition to the inn, instead of towers, trees and plants loomed, overshadowing hundreds of adventurers on their way to work, each of them thankful for the cool air. Meanwhile, two separating children played around off the tower's influence out in the sun before they were beckoned back. Indeed, towers were discouraged: they were highly vulnerable to tropical heat and the regular flooding and typhoons without some technological or magical form of air conditioning. One-floor stilted bamboo huts with large windows and air-holes distributed throughout the bamboo slats were much more sustainable for the everyday person. Moreover, these huts could easily be moved by a group of hands and dismantled if needed, and that was done relatively frequently, sometimes three times in 20 years. Alternatively, from time to time, multi-floor bamboo structures were built and lasted, but they rarely reached the size and bulk of medieval towers, often looking like skeletons or frames instead of monoliths. The trees, the huts, the pebble steps, and the inn only represented a few features of his Byzantine environment. The nearby adventurer guild itself, in combination with the bridges, the graveyards, and long swathes of land, provided a sense of stability. At the scene, hundreds of wagons trolled along toward dungeon excursions, holding large containers of fresh food, water, and expendable adventurer items like potions, breaking orbs, and one-use spell manuscripts. As for weapons, armor, and shields, those equipment were handled and maintained by the accompanying blacksmiths, who were coincidentally switching places with those who were now leaving from the dungeon. The purpose of the convoy was to do their part in keeping the resources flowing and the activities supplied with lifeblood. It reminded him of a particular orb he had seen in the [Forums], and he had already cast the necessary preparations to appropriate it. After spending enough time observing the landscape, he began traversing the road that led through a network of roads and paths, soon arriving at a small house: "Michel?" he said. The wild card role could be attributed to Michel because she challenged Witchman on several fronts, particularly her necromancy with her necrotic arm and her admitted enjoyment of killing goblins. However, the fact that he knew her anchors—the city border and her house—cast doubt on her status as one. In the end, he decided to clear things up with her and get along with his goals. For context, even after putting himself out there as a maestro of sorts, he didn't actually develop intimate connections insofar as he acted as a conductor. A conductor could only swing his orchestra to the tunes of music, but not to the tunes of every facet attributable to each individual performer's life. So after the fighting ended, he was a stranger to them; the adventurers indeed lived adventerously, never tied down to a party or leader, always navigating their changing world. Returning to reality, moments after he called her name, Michel stared at him, having began weaving her hair with a toothpick. Her behavior was strange, but it put him at ease. The stranger people were, the easier it was to pinpoint what made them distinct. However, she could very well be putting on an strenuous act, but he didn't have any reason to think that she bothered to do so. In other words, he was giving her the benefit of the doubt, considering their lengthy relationship and her recent, self-isolating behavior and struggles with her necrotic arm. His deliberation could very well be non-existent, and things could still work out. But he couldn't solely rely on quick thinking and impulsivity. Michel began speaking, her lips as soft as a fairy dove, the light bouncing off her cheeks like heavenly gates tearing through the weakness in the air, her brows like thunderous burn marks that revealed her gracious perseverance, her hair like dazzling rays of light, her limbs like soft pillows, her mouth like a song: "What are you doing?" She sounded like a wet pillow. He was staring at her too much, his cheeks red. It didn't make sense, but Michel struck him as someone he couldn't control. That made him feel something—a draw toward her as an uncontrollable and unpredictable force. And that made her all the more alluring. He realized that his intellect had shut down, and he was engaging in the present moment. "Oh, I was saying earlier that... I wanted to ask you about... Sophia and Deathbringer," he said, his voice deep briefly before lifting a little. "Sure." Her voice was weak and fragile, but it sounded like something that no one could ever miss. It sounded like a safe brutalist bastion standing thousands of kilometers tall that would hold him safe and keep him secure. Witchman was starting to realize that he was starting to feel strange. He never felt this lonely before, but maybe everything was finally crashing down after what happened. That happening was this whole life on this other world. Maybe he was finally addressing it by feeling something for once. After all the chaos and burnout, maybe he could finally let loose and be okay again. He did try. He did. "Matthew," she said. He couldn't take it anymore. A tear dripped down his face. For the longest time, he didn't know what to say. He grew frustrated with himself. After everything he went through and did, he couldn't even describe it? He couldn't speak, the sides of his mouth, cheeks, and chin feeling his stream of tears. Michel looked angry. "What! Who did this to you! What happened!" Witchman fell to the ground. He was tired of being weak and helpless, and he was tired of winning. He was tired of winning. He didn't want to become something he was not anymore. He was not that guy. Michel helped him up and sat him down. "Matthew, I know it's been hard, but I want you to relax and take deep breaths while I go get you some food and a drink." She opened the door, her chest moving up and down swiftly. She wouldn't have been able to do this without him. She went out, got some food, and returned to Matthew. "I've been here for the last week. I didn't even hear about you until recently. Sophia told me you were not in the whole city. So they thought you must've left. When they heard about you recently, hours ago, they were so happy that they didn't know what to say. They're planning a celebration, but they still weren't completely sure if you were coming. Why don't you come? I'll accompany you." She wouldn't have been able to do this without him. Michel and Matthew soon went to the celebration after they ate. There, Michel met Sophia and Deathbringer again, and Matthew was able to laugh and smile again. But this time, he said what he felt a little. That his family was gone. That everyone he ever knew had disappeared. That magic took him away from them. That everything he was wasn't who he really was. He wasn't. He couldn't be. That he couldn't pretend forever. For a while, they were happy. Matthew finally came to terms with his own existence, and he would encounter troubles along the way. But that was normal. If he ever wanted to rule the world, he would do with his friends this time. And he would do it knowing that he wasn't pretending. He wanted to be himself, and he didn't care about being perfect or someone or whatever. He just wanted to be normal again back with friends and family. He didn't want to be the skeleton slayer, the goblin slayer... Meanwhile, Mawkery fidgeted with his fingers, staring from a throne. "This isn't what I wanted," he said, his voice low. The human armies were already making their way into his castle, and he didn't have any other option left. He teleported away, using a skill that broke through the teleportation limiters cast by the humans. Returning to Matthew, hours after the celebration, around 3 AM, he returned home after eating outside with Michel and a few others. At an inn, he looked outside the window, finding several figures levitating. He covered his face, hiding a wide grin. He knew that he had to do it. He had to become perfection. "I deserve this—give it to me!" He reached for an orb, struggling with the figures for it, vying for its overwhelming power. He couldn't bear it anymore. He had to become everything he ever wanted to be. He had to become the epitome of grace and beauty. The terrifying faces of the various figures he had encountered haunted him, and he would not sit still while his nightmares haunted him day and night. This exacerbated his severe sensations of loss and grief from losing his family, friends, and old life and his greatly hidden guilt from killing goblins. Even more so, the closure and resolution from Michel and the others paradoxically boosted his resolve, confirming his biases. He would become irrepressible. The witch orb fell into his hands, and he cackled like a maniac. "Mine! Mine! Mine!" Each proclamation was a cavernous death growl.Chapter 22 - Shadows of Progress
Name: Matthew Cruz Level: 42 Current experience: 8 Species: Human Age: 25 Skills: [Whirlwind Waltz] Spells: None / None Vitality: 15 Quests: [Bridge of Knowledge] Titles: [Goblin Slayer], [Skeleton Slayer] He checked the two titles. [The Goblin Slayer title boosts all damage dealt to goblins by 12%.] [The Skeleton Slayer title boosts all damage dealt to skeletons by 12%.] As for the orb's origin, it was delivered here with the help of a several people at the [Forums]. The [Forums] had many powerful people willing to patronize and extend their influence across the world, so they hoped to contract others willing to increase their power. The [Forums] accelerated people's growth many times over, so he was taking part in a secret society comprised of 10 million people. As for how exactly the orb was delivered, it involved the help of the figures, several beings from the spirit realm, who didn't pose much of a threat. As part of a deal with one particular client from the [Forums], the figures brought it from far away, traveling through the spirit realm, which had little respect for physical distance. After Witchman took it, they returned as part of the end of the deal involved. Of course, he was made to sign a contract that created a magical bond that updated his current location and [System] status to the client. Moreover, they agreed to keep a line open for requests with accompanying rewards, as long as both parties remained in agreement regarding the terms. Witchman was not one to waste an opportunity, having collaborated with many people already. This occasion was linear with his journey. Now, regarding the benefits the orb presented, it weakened the attack speed of enemies within 500 units by 20%. And according to the [System], 500 units was 2 meters. This also meant that [Whirlwind Waltz] was only 1 meter radius. Overall, the orb would vastly cripple his opponents who operated more like melee fighters than mages. Returning to reality, he slept in his inn room, getting up the next day to take on a quest with his friends again at the beginner dungeons. Here, they were naturally full of life and characterized by plentiful individuals set on taking on the first steps of adventuring. But this was where it all ended. Most people only took the first steps before leaving for good, finding a new life among the masses. Adventurer, despite its common and confident place in culture, was exclusive to those willing to take on the risks of death. And that wasn't feasible for too long. Most people never found gold and made it up the ranks in a short amount of time. It was only people like Witchman, who found themselves in a precarious situation where the only risks they had were the risks of ignorance and confusion. So adventuring was a light in the dark that gave them access to people willing to fight by his side and tell him about the world. In that risk of death, he found a place that he could be sane, because in the urban, civil world, everyone turned away from him. He was all fitted in with the brutes, the rude, the arrogant, the full-of-themselves, the childish, the mysterious, and the mentally unstable, all actually embedded into the adventurer lifestyle. But everyone hated death, even if it was strewn around in mosaics and cultural objects. The only thing people wanted was to live safely, so in that darkness, violence, and death, they hoped to find an other side. The beginners' voices rattled him out of his mixed mental state. "Hey, you know you don't have to do, David? We can always come back and try again." "But it's not my first time anyway. I came here seeing my Dad come... there." The owner of the voice pointed at a dungeon entrance with its rough bumps and messy floor, wood splinters, dirt, and glass fragments piled up on one side all the way to the dungeon. Hints of red trails made way to the first stretch inside the dungeon. In another conversation, sarcasm seethed in a voice: "Maybe, you should try addressing the potion problem. Dropping it was a doozy." "Nah... finally, we got her," said another voice from another party, turning to a woman with disheveled hair exiting the dungeon and holding up a goblin head. "Nice reward!" It was unusual for adventurers to come out the same way they came in, but for beginners and adventurers who only cared about grabbing the scraps left behind by stronger adventurers, this was common. Another conversation made Witchman turn his head around: "The healer's been pretty late lately, huh?" He waited for his fellow adventurers to get angry at the healer guy, but when they didn't, he matched their mood. "I haven't really grabbed all our things yet, so it's good." He left to grab more bags a distance away where he and his fellows dropped earlier from a public transport wagon. Once there, he grabbed two containers at a time, sometimes a crate, often a large bag with various banana fiber ropes keeping it from opening up on its own. When he returned, he was quickly greeted coincidentally by the wandering look of Witchman, who was now operating with a mask. It was black, wedge-shaped, clean, and chiseled like a dog. They were here to sell at a stall stationed in the area since the bazaar where Deathbringer and Sophia's friends sold was also here. Moving on to the background, the conversations went on and on, and various personalities were clear from the first few sentences. In the end, Witchman was happy to see such action even in such a tiny little workplace. After finishing his assessment, he continued onward to the adventurer guild where he SAW stacks of paper being thrown away on one side. They were cutting down on older and outdated documents about adventurer activities. With how rare such information was, Witchman was quick to ask if he could view the papers, but the decline response he got was that the data there was sensitive and private. He resumed walking to the quest board. After checking their various details, such as assumed levels of the monsters, he realized that he was checking the board by himself without having a party. So he went and confessed to the staff, adding that he had forgot. However, the staff told him that they intentionally allowed people to take quests indepedently, considering the new adventurers piling up after new policy changes promoted new adventurer entrants into adventuring. This was done as a response to the declining adventurer population after the King decided to have them participate in a significant engagement with Mawkery. Moreover, Mawkery was starting to influence the rate in which monsters spawned and attacked in the region by supplying them with equipment, apparatus, and supplies or displacing them toward attacking human settlements. This extended to humans as well, as the refugees would herd toward other settlements, pressing them. This could end up going violent in a cascading effect. Increased vigilance was decreed by the king in response to this. In the end, adventurers were needed to help in stabilizing the region. This was the only thing he gleaned from conversations with friends, and even that was a summary of the whole picture. If he wanted to set the tone, he would require large amounts of investment. After taking on several easy quests, he helped gather everyone he knew to join him on a set up camp next to a reported monster hideout. It was sequestered in a dungeon, so they had to play by the traditional rules first before thinking of engaging in a targeted approach to lure out the monsters. Even with long-range, wide-reaching skills, the hideout was too well-defensible, so they had to wait it out and hopefully starve them. But many monsters didn't need food and water, so they were hoping that the monsters came out sooner or later. After arriving at the place and defeating the weaker monsters standing around, they finally got the camp up and going, having a linear path to the city and many routes of escape. Moreover, they kept an eye on the path via the various vantage points nearby, using wards and sentries who were also duelists well equipped in prolonged one-on-one fights. They helped keep the enemy at bay and divert coming enemies' attention by creating pressure on arriving enemy's resources after they set up camp. After all their preparation, which was led by many of the senior adventurers of the group Witchman helped assemble, they took the time to share their reports of various fronts, quests, and events. Witchman learned that Michel was no longer struggling with her necrotic arm, but she said that it was because she could now safely control it with the help of a stream of healers. However, this was expensive, so her new goal involved getting out more. So she thanked him for the opportunity since he was the one who nominated her specifically. As soon as Michel had their small talk, Sophia and Deathbringer were excited to deliver the news that they were finally getting married. It was not that important to Witchman initially, but they mentioned that because of this marriage, they were joining a healer guild. This specific healer guild required couples because at the event of marriage, both gained a buff that increased all healing received by 30 percent permanently. Witchman applauded them, saying that they should kiss. It was a deadpan gesture, but when they kissed, he clapped his hands even harder, laughing in good humor with the rest of the group. It was an easygoing discussion. Soon, the more urgent news came. Brackern mentioned that there had been reports of hideouts increasing as of late, but he did say that it could mostly be a result of the increased adventurer independence. He was amazed that it was working, concluding that it was advisable for them to continue to support the new entrants. Brandon was not pleased, sharing that hundreds of adventurers lost their lives in a troll attack due to carelessness with a goblin-improvement system. This magical system involved the careful arrangement of hundreds of mages in an particular order in order to reach a certain magical requirement that significantly boosted goblin strength and intelligence. This was supposed to become the new start for the city, but it failed. Everyone else was aware, concluding that it was a good thing that a hundred was able to survive.Chapter 23 - Paths Crossed and Bonds Strengthened
Desmond Leroy, a young man suited to become a soldier, had already been preparing to play around the area where Witchman was. Furthermore, he came to learn from the guild that they were setting up camp, establishing a semi-permanent presence to address coordinated monster activity. He decided to come along and help, hoping to aid in defeating the monstesr; however, he was most concerned about resources. Since he had been following public updates on Witchman and his party since the disastrous Mawkery engagement, he helped bring in some extra aid to let off pressure from them, as the area was flanked by several monster hotspots, specifically those galvanized around dungeon steps and other forms of infrastructure. Rather than being tied to the role of confinement, exploration, and storage, these dungeon steps provided a vantage point, being high steps that led to a quadrangle platform. This platform was where the adventurers often squared up for a fight. Now that Desmond and his party were present, Witchman, knowing his name, came to meet him. "What's been happening recently with you?" Witchman said. He also wanted to add that he didn't know they were friends in a joking manner, but he thought that he didn't know Desmond well enough to say such a thing. Desmond was hasty to smile after he saw Sophia running up behind Witchman. "I didn't know Rank 660 was with you," he said. "You know my current rank?" Sophia said, her expression growing meek and her stride slowing as she approached the two. "I love watching the numbers. I'm currently Rank 760, so I'm not that far off." "What's that?" Witchman asked. "The rankings," Sophia said before showing Desmond her thanks with bananas. It was a strangely timed gesture, but Desmond accepted it anyway, as the wagons carrying his support trolled past them. Witchman presumed that the rankings was a system regularly magically updated to keep competition among adventurers clear and rewarding, setting precedents for further improvement. The overall competitive sphere benefitted from this, and tournaments, although focused on specialized competitors, prisoners, and other diverse participants, contributed to its well-roundedness as a benchmark. Desmond's presence was still unusual, as despite spending much of his time with people, Witchman didn't spend that much time cultivating them. He was very on-and-off with his connections, which was also the reason why it was so awkward with the six adventurers. In the end, he had much more room for improvement when it came to sustaining his relationships. Ultimately, Desmond was acting proactively here in Witchman's favor. As the days passed, Witchman benefitted a lot from the free roaming porton of their camp set-up, advancing collaboration between the group in smaller, more intimate activities: maintenance, washing themselves and their clothes, patrolling, resting, training, creating fortifications, regular check-ins, updating situational reports, and relaying important information, guarding the sick, playing very intense outdoor games, sustaining a strict presence in the dungeon, and organizing and receiving resupplies of wards, torches, food, water, arrows, and other essential supplies, among other activities. As soon as two weeks were over, Witchman was able to strengthen the bonds between the people he knew, significantly reducing hesitation and speeding up communication and group dynamics with regard to role swapping and other more complex maneuvers within a group. This was learned meaningfully and slowly through team-building activities, but it was most clear during fast-paced fights. So they were much prepared, and Desmond's third party aid shed some light on many glaring issues with their arrangement, making their camp life that much more fulfilling in preparing them for what lay ahead. In the end, it was good to have outsource aid in order to streamline toward what was truly their forte. The monsters soon came out in order to engage the adventurers, but because the adventurer camp was a good distance away, they didn't hear or know. In fact, the adventurers that detected them, although discovered, waited until the monsters completely committed into leaving their hideout before using their relevant spells to escape. At this point, the adventurers had caught them. The monsters exploded in bits and pieces, as tens of skills slammed into them, burning them to the ground. With the hideout emptied, the adventurers immediately rushed in to control it, finding that they didn't have any form of active magical communication or connection with an external party. That meant they were isolated, but that also meant that their deaths didn't secure the adventurers a line to Mawkery. With conclusions like this, the adventurers already knew that they had spent so much resources to defeat an isolated enemy, potentially allowing other more coordinated enemy forces to take control of other objectives much easier with their absence. This was not the victory they had planned. So immediately, when they returned, they moved their attention over to the soldiers and the official army, wondering how they were doing without the adventurers. Witchman was the one most perturbed by this, as he was the one who had invited them all to target the hideout. Even if they won, his influence resulted in an overwhelming defeat due to mismanaged resources and manpower. However, he also felt that the King was not clear-cut with his goals and objectives, not informing them of the military activities within the region. So they could only make decisions based on poorly informed deduction alone. In simpler terms, they did win by defeating the isolated enemy, but they spent too much resources to do so because the King withheld essential information and left certain routes very insecure so as to have false alarms enter through. The monsters and the hideout were not very crucial as an objective, and they could have spent the resources and manpower somewhere more pivotal. However, Witchman also didn't press the issue to the King. If he was more assertive about it, he could have been given sufficient military briefing. He addressed these concerns with the coalition and Desmond's party. As a result, without saying so explicitly, they effectively decided to put a pause on future collaborations for the time being. Witchman relegated his focus to more simple quests, having tired himself out from all the in-depth preparation. He returned to the adventurer guild where he saw a large fence outside the city gate. He saw two familiar beggars and asked them about dungeons. They shook their head, confused. He looked around for a good ten minutes before he found a familar tall guy. He was the one who answered his question about dungeons before. So after waiting for the guy to finish a conversation with a group of mothers, he learned the location of the dungeons. Since he didn't want to bother the guy any longer, he left abruptly since the guy started talking to someone else immediately after answering. He was a busy person, wearing civilian clothes. He reached the dungeon and discovered several branching paths along the way, but he wasn't dismayed. He was concerned about the lack of adventurers in the area, considering that it reminded him of the ambush location to which the golem maker had guided him. As he was walking, he heard a group of adventurers walking by, their feet particularly silent. After he encountered them eye-to-eye, one of them said something strongly, and then he could suddenly hear their footsteps normally again. The same person who had spoken strongly, a woman wearing crocodile green clothes that blended somewhat with the rainforest environment, said: "Good day, Sir. I haven't seen anybody like you around here." She was referring to his weird get-up of purple and yellow. Witchman didn't know what to say since he thought his attire was normal. "I... don't usually travel around here." "Is that so?" said the woman, looking away and around as if she was searching for something. Behind her, the other members of her group resumed conversing casually after they realized that Witchman was a normal guy. Witchman noticed the woman's wandering gaze and asked, "What was that magic with the quietness?" The woman cringed, and it was clear that she didn't want to tell him the name of the foot-quieting spell she had used. "It was... a particular magic. Can't tell you. How about you? What are you here for? I smell something strange. Is that you?" She began sniffing around, wrinkling her nose. Since she was so adamant with her disgust, he presumed that it might not be any old fart. Witchman's eyes widened. "What smell?" The woman glanced at his eyes before she did a double take at him, reciprocating his seriousness. "Burning..." The tone of the conversation behind her began to weaken, as they were beginning to sense the tension in the air. "Hmm... I don't know," Witchman said, his eyes relaxing, his voice suddenly weak halfway, coughing lightly. The air was humid, and he was getting thirsty. So he took out a pouch and drank, having ignored the thirst due to the group encounter. "Anyway..." His eyes stopped blinking. The smell of burning marked something new. Witchman stared at several plants, imagining their forms suddenly turning into monsters. He had imagined too many monsters in the dark during his time at the camp. Now that he was here in the morning, he hoped he was wrong about monsters roaming the day so casually and in a hidden way. Meanwhile, the woman and the group left, returning to the city gate. Witchman was the only one who really took the mention of burning seriously. When he finally reached a dungeon, he speedily arranged his things on the ground and located the orb, finding that it was not going to be easy to shatter it after banging it against the wall several times. This was one of his instinctive behaviors that he had to stop. The goblins had began to accumulate, seeing him as a clear threat on their territory. But Witchman knew a particular goblin, so he asked for the goblin's name. The goblins stopped and quickly ran off. Witchman saw one of them still lingering through the angled shadow. As soon as he stood up and returned his items into his bag, the lingering goblin emerged, being the same goblin he had met. Its name was Finesse. Witchman said: "Hey, I was wondering if I could get some information about the area, the adventurers are not really helpful. And can I check your stats as well? I want to see how your [Vitality] looks like." It was a polite gesture since he could see it without asking. Finesse gave a thumbs-up, making his way out of the dungeon as soon as Witchman gave him some space. Outside, Witchman showed him a bag of gold, saying that it could buy a sword around a certain size, using his hands to demonstrate the size. Finesse was smart, nodding twice. Moreover, it could talk, as all goblins could. "I didn't know it was easy," it said. "Please tell me about how to make gold." Witchman shook his head. "No, it's not that easy. It might be easier for me, but it's not going to be easy for you." Finesse repeated what Witchman said until he understood. "Okay." Witchman wanted to assist goblins like Finesse, even if his previous quest about uniting goblins and humans was no longer active. He was hoping to keep his mind in a sane place by doing so, since the targeting of goblins was something he couldn't stand by any longer. It was not right to him, and he had already reached that conclusion many times before. He just didn't understand why yet, but soon enough, he realized that adventurers could never really understand until he showed them that goblins were more than monsters. He wanted to create a world where he was everything he could ever be, and assisting goblins was only one stepping stone.Chapter 24 - Goblin Connections and Adventurer Insights
Witchman accepted the goblin, leading it to his cottage, but before that, he signed a magical contract with it. The Agreement, effective January 1, 11000, was between Witchman ("Employer") and Finesse ("Employee"). Finesse would serve as a General Assistant during adventures, doing tasks like carrying supplies and cooking. Payment was 10 Damian gold coins weekly, plus room and board. Finesse was on-call and joined adventures as needed. Work hours varied and would be communicated beforehand. The agreement lasted until terminated by either party with one day's notice. Termination had to be in writing. This was sufficiently formal for their purposes, as Witchman wanted to show how much he valued goblin connection. And it was the truth. If he could rope in a whole new network of activity beyond his current position as a human adventurer, then he would be bathing in gold in the form of information, connections, and all kinds of resources waiting to be pried into. He would not want to miss out on such amazing loot! In the end, he knew just what he needed to excel—turning enemies into allies similar to how the adventurers had turned hobgoblins into friends. Instead of frustrating himself by tucking himself into a corner with adventurers and their incompatible views on goblin life, he knew that the best way to advance was to find a third path forward, one that made room for both adventurer activity and goblin life. This would result in significant gains in human and goblin capital moving forward. His end goal was to justify his past series of hardships by launching new platforms for growth. However, this was his current plan and views. Even if he wanted to emancipate himself from this perceived moral disturbance, he would not be able to integrate these ideas and theories into reality that easily, considering his knowledge deficit as an immigrant. One way to offset this deficit was by utilizing the [System] and its [Forums]. But its effect was largely marginal on his overall growth and understanding. He did get the orb, but he wasn't necessarily understanding the world through text on a page. He needed firsthand experience more and more, and the only way to do that was to keep exploring and experiencing new things instead of hiding under the complicated system serving the adventurers. His inauguration of goblin relations, especially as a former employee relations manager, was a step onward into firsthand experience. Moving on to addresal, three concerns entailed a significant weight in his growth: the mysterious mechanisms of the [System] with its levels, skills, and other functions, the distribution of various monster species and humans across the region, and the mechanisms of monster spawning, biology, and loot, among others. Many days earlier, he learned from a conversation with the 6 adventurers that levels could be exchanged for weapon, tool, and armor enchantments and repairs. But since then, he hadn't spent a single level toward anything. Now he knew he didn't have to rely on the [System] to handle everything, but maybe he could have been much more proactive about it in the last three months. Well, his situation was complex: taking things slow and focusing on building and leveraging relationships and connections made it easier for him to make better and more meaningful choices in the long game. Today, he was finally going to reap the harvest. He went over to his levels. Incidentally, he realized that he hadn't gotten a second skill yet. The [System]'s behavior felt arbitrary to him lately, especially when he revealed himself in a human form. It didn't make it better when he discovered the [Forums]. That only deepened his suspicion that the [System] was inherently unreliable, capricious, fickle, turbulent, and volatile. That wasn't a system. However, maybe, he was the one not understanding. Anyway, he wanted to pour his levels into a weapon. His current choice of weapon was a spear since it was the easiest to use and most flexible in a formation. However, he also enjoyed using swords, but he never used it in battle unless his side was so much more ahead. In the same way, his coolest moments were him stomping and kicking enemies, but again, he could only do that when nothing went wrong and everything went well in accordance to the well-oiled machine. Indeed, shifting to the topic of physique, he wasn't that athlethic even after three months, at least compared to the adventurers. Specifically, likely due to genetics, he still had a noticeable belly; though, his arms and thighs were already showing pronounced muscle bulk. In contrast, the rest of his body were relatively weak. Particularly, his understrength calves and feet meant he hadn't been making quick, tiptoed swerves and long, low leaps in the fights, leaving him vulnerable in a situation where that was essential. In the end, tactical skill and strategy could compensate for physical weaknesses to a certain extent, but sooner or later, he would have to address the issue of physique. His plan in mind involved targeted training and nutrition, so he was hoping to include more vegetable dishes and fruits in his diet to start, since he was mainly relying on the adventurer diet, which focused on meats, hardtack-like bread, and root vegetables and excluded lighter vegetables, grains, and fruits due to reasons of calory density and longer shelf life. These reasons extended to availability. Naturally, there were exceptions to the diet, one of which being bananas. Returning to the leveling process, he immediately contacted several people he knew, particularly his friends from the Block & Bed Tavern: Thorne, Elara, and Lumi. As soon as he saw them, he asked whether it was better to buy an enchanted weapon or pour one's levels into an unenchanted one. The answer he got ranged. Thorne said: "For one, you can try pouring your levels into armor. That was safer since you'll use it for longer. What I mean to say is that you will want to use it for longer given how much more expensive it is. And I'm not talking about gambisons or banana fiber armor. I'm talking about metal armor. Don't use it yet. Save up for armor first. That's probably cost you three months' wage, and you've been here for three months. So you should have about enough, right?" Elara said: "I don't think leveling up anything is a good idea. Let me explain. What I want to do with my levels is to level up my skills, but that only comes once you reach level 100. Now, I'm not that strong, and I haven't actually levelled up a single skill. But from what I've heard and seen, the skill upgrades are usually very good." Thorne agreed. Lumi said: "We can try asking others. Maybe they know more about leveling. But you can just sink levels into your current weapons and armor bit by bit. Since they'll need repairs, and the levels will be useful for that. It's much more cheaper and safer that way for the long term." Thorne and Elara agreed. Overall, leveling armor, skills, and repairing equipment were alternative visions of what Witchman originally had in mind. He asked them about the mechanisms of monster spawning even if he had asked that a similar question many times before; however, he had a more nuanced understanding now, leading to refined questions. He asked whether goblins were capable of spawning more goblins. Thorne said: "No, that depends on whether you've hit them, and they're not capable of magically spawning some, but there have been occasions of goblins spawning goblins as reinforcements. It might not be a conscious choice on their side. Also, I'm not sure how it actually works, but it has been used many times before to get some extra loot in for beginners." Elara and Lumi agreed. Witchman asked whether goblins could use magic as well as humans could and whether they could use magic that impacted their rate of spawning. Elara said: "The magic they use is often rudimentary, and you've seen it yourself. Goblins who do use more developed magic was deeper in the dungeon or farther in more complex goblin societies. Recently spawned in goblins are usually like confused babies, so it is the goal of adventurers to keep them scattered and divided by camping near monster spawn areas and culling their numbers to prevent excess. As for your question about magic that impacts spawn rate, it exists, but whether goblins have it is unknown. And this kind of magic is very unique and hard to find. It would be a secret artifact and not any spell that anyone can use." Witchman nodded, preparing himself to ask more questions. As soon as he addressed everything, he would begin to make arrangements to conquer territory and establish his presence here. The King would notice him, but as long as he could convince others that he was worth listening to, he would vastly improve his influence and wield it accordingly. This was all just one big pie. Lumi added to Elara's explanation: "We have seen many artifacts. We can show you, but you have to realize that it's not that crazy or important. It's aged artifacts that have grown weaker overtime. Their original purpose and quality is now gone. But if you want, you can take a look. I have one right not that I use for my hair. It used to be used to heavily increase a person's magical power by 35% of the total, but now, that effect is dead or dormant I hope. One of our long goals is seeing whether certain dungeons are hiding some form of magical artifact that could influence other artifacts to activate. Even the King stated once that if we find an artifact capable of destroying cities, he would not hesitate to use it against the monsters." Later, Witchman made his way down a cellar, finding several different fences used as railings all around the flight of stairs. The ground was quadrangle outlines of stone bricks, and the ceiling had this dusty look, as if this place had lain untouched for 30 years. As soon as they reached the bottom floor, Lumi, with her firm gambison and gorgeous smile, showed him various lamps floating in the room. "This is another artifact," he said, "but it isn't that special. I know you've been confused for a long time, but why? Artifacts are a common thing here in this region. No matter how ignorant your previous culture could be, it should not be so ignorant so as to not know artifacts at all. Your confused expression says it all. You came from a whole different world." Witchman was not paying attention, and he was not worried at all by the Lumi's phrasing. Time had already showed him that he was different and that no one actually knew where he came from. The [System] could change things, especially with the [Forum] hinting that there were others like him out there. He didn't want to linger about in thought. The dimly orange-lit room already drew his attention enough.Chapter 25 - The Depths of Desperation
Several goblins walked up to Witchman's cottage, waiting for him. They were hoping to see him before they got demotivated. They wanted to be a part of his group along with the goblin Witchman had contracted. Meanwhile, Witchman kept pace with Lumi's growing confidence as she spoke about artifacts. His entangling presence, like webs scavenging succulently around the room, seeking out the flesh and souls of every inhabit and the regions they inhabit, occupied the room. The room sounded soft like whispers in the dark tearing through the air and highlighting each flaw in cadence. The movements of Lumi, Thorne, and Elara could be likened to the caring and heartsome feelings of a giantess forming a circle in which they would birth their children. In here, Matthew's grace was alive, his mind crafting various thoughts and plans upon each other in piles aiming for the top. This was his presence among children of this world: the three could only help with small words. The artifacts came out as tiny toys in a grandiose world. "So, do you want to try this?" Lumi repeated, showing him a small artifact weighing as much as a woman when its openings were closed tight. "This decreases movement slowing effects by 25%." The artifact was shaped like an almond, and it looked like a giant nut. When Lumi handed it to Witchman, she covered its openings. It fell from their hands immediately, but at the same time, since the holes were not covered, it became light again, surprising Witchman. The room was strangely cold. "What's this for?" he said, huffing briefly, his voice squeaky like a dolphin catching its breath. "I haven't seen anything like this." The three inn regulars knew that Witchman had an artifact. Witchman smiled. "Well, thanks for showing me. I need to continue my mission." They also knew that Witchman hadn't talked to anyone for a while since his failure at the hideout engagement. Since Witchman wasn't saying anything about it, they addressed it. "Hey, we were hoping you'd tell us about it." Witchman's smile weakened before he frowned. "I'm trying to manage... It's been a while, and I'm still experimenting. I've tried contacting goblins recently and seeing how I can enslave them..." He didn't like the sound of "enslave" now that he said it. After he saw their concerned looks, he responded: "I haven't forgotten what it felt like to be tortured by the goblins. I'm just taking my time, okay? I'm not really hoping to sit still for too long after what happened. I still feel bad about it, okay? You think I live for myself only? No, I try to... live for others too... or pleasing them... No, that's not it..." Thorne smiled sheepishly. "We've been talking about you, and we heard that you weren't okay since then. You haven't talked to anyone..." "Yeah." Witchman shook his head out of embarassment. "I haven't seen you this frail... and weak," Lumi said. She was the type to be assertive about this. Witchman wasn't offended in the slightest. In fact, he was relieved. "Yeah..." He said, his tone a little lighter. "And you haven't been eating with us and Shadrach, Aidan, and Andrei..." "Yeah..." "James Markus and James James too." "Yeah..." "I apologize..." He didn't want to bother them too much. He was already making progress. He just had to leave this place, and he could be alone finally. But part of him knew that his own mental state relied on people. He wasn't a lone island. He could only cope so much before everything fell to ruins. If he dared speak a word against them, they would only turn it into an opportunity to comfort him. He didn't want that. He was tired of being complacent and comfortable. He hadn't been making progress, and he would rather an enemy than a friend speak with him. This way, he could never find himself ever looking down at his own feet in contentment. He didn't want to lose that touch of frustration—that gaping well. "I'm sorry," he said with strength, internally admitting that nothing he could do would ever suffice. "We're sorry too... but you have to know that this is the last time we'll be seeing each other right? We're heading already. Traveling to the Hittites." "Have you seen them already?" "No, but we contacted some of them. We should be able to take a safer route this time. No worries." "Ah, okay. I was just concerned..." After their discussion, Witchman left, not feeling a tiny bit satisfied. But that was life. Every conversation ended before that feeling of satisfaction, and every goal was finished before he had time to say okay. Everything happened out of schedule, never submitting to his will. All he could do was match its pace and do away with preparation when the time came. Adaptation and flexibility, that is. His connections were always deep here, but fleeting and overwhelming, tying him down and helping him explore. They were never to be underestimated, always attempting to take over him and turn him into something worse or greater. He left. Not looking back. The windows were a little higher than normal. Maybe, he felt low and small. He ran, bursting in a dash, remembering the dream-like dash he made when he was escaping the first goblins he saw in this world. Pain didn't make him stronger. It only made him more sensitive. But he did learn skills to cope along the way. In the end, he could only disappear. He fled out of the city. He was ashamed. He gritted his teeth and burst in anger. Nothing he did made sense, and he would always come to this conclusion. His emotions were running high again, and his intellect was never useful because it never matched reality. Once he prepared with all his will, his emotional intelligence was the first to fall because nothing went according to plan. Even with flexibility in mind, it all failed. It all succumbed to devastation and deterioration. His memories did. He was an afterimage of his past self. He fell to the earth and slammed his fists against the earth, reddening, growling inwardly, huffing like he was drowning inside his throat. He gurgled, slipping to the earth, his eyes reddening with the liquid form of his hurt. He never found himself relieved, always frustrated, always suffering. He wanted to become arrogant. So he demanded this to be reality. He needed to become a psychopathic. How else could he cope? How else could he cope when he saw a goblin being slaughtered right in front of him? How else could he cope when he saw adventurers lose their lives? The memories coming back to haunt him. The time was out of sync because his mind was out of sync. How much time had passed? 3 months? But wasn't he just with his family and friends? When? Where? When? He was 15 minutes away from home. He should be. His apartment was there behind the bend. He had to walk a little because the tricycles and jeepneys didn't reach his house. In truth, he didn't want to take the tricycles because it was expensive. His cousin liked to do that though whenever he slept over at his house. Now, he was reminiscing. No, he couldn't. He had never done that. Over 90 days of torture. He couldn't bear it anymore. Everyone would say there was something wrong with him for hiding and suppressing this all this time. But he had to. He had to numb it all away. He couldn't be weak. He had to be strong. He had to do something, so he couldn't be weak and depressed. He couldn't lie down for hours everyday. He couldn't do that. He had to move his body. He had to get out of the inn bed. He had to. He couldn't be weak forever. Everything he did was for a higher purpose. It was never to help him cope. So even he was doing something that was supposed to comfort him, it didn't because he saw it as just another step toward becoming impenetrable and invulnerable. His arrogance was just another front. He cared about others, but he didn't want to feel so emotional and vulnerable because it was too painful. He didn't want to show them that he cared. He didn't want to be human. He wanted to become the epitome of grace and beauty. That very epitome. He had to become perfection. No more pain. No more gritted teeth, tears wetting his chin, hoarse voice. He would become everything. He stood up with a few clumsy jerks. His footsteps were irregular. He almost tripped, but that was partly intentional. He wanted to fall apart if that allowed him to be normal again. He didn't want to be special. He went deep into the forest, wishing to end this madness, this stupidity, this lie. He saw a goblin. Several of them. He was back home at the cottage. He grabbed a spear and ran. He stabbed them ragefully, sorrowfully, and angrily again. He skewered them to stillness. There, he felt validated. He was the instrument. He followed orders. He did the right thing. He made others happy. So much encouragement from his fellow adventurers just to do something so simple. He smiled. He trembled and had a panic attack, screaming at a high pitch and growling as if he was being tortured physically. "No! No! No!" The [System] appeared, disgusted. "You should be better than this. You're not satisfying the expectations of the gods." He beat Witchman again and again until he became terrified like a little boy. "You have to become..." Witchman began screaming again and backing away, covering his head. The [System] cringed. "Seriously. What's this?" He cast a spell that numbed Witchman's emotions with a drug-like effect. For the remainder of the time the [System] watched, Witchman stared in silence, sitting up, his gaze unfocused. The [System] retched. "Here's what I'll do. You're too ugly to look at. You make me sick. I'm going to..." When he saw the lack of response from Witchman, he hesitated. "Like I was saying... you will receive a blessing from the Overlord. He's hoping you can get out of this little tantrum of yours and just move..." He tilted his head, checking for any movement from Witchman. "...on." 15 minutes after the [System] left, he received a status notification. [You have the Overlord's blessing. Your health stat will cost 300% less for each stat point, decreasing to 0.89 per stat point from 2.67 per stat point!] Witchman began to laugh again similar to how he was manically laughing earlier out of madness. But this time, a sense of confidence swelled up. He was back in control. Even if he was mentally unstable, he knew an opportunity when he saw it. He realized that he now viewed his mental breakdown as a way to rope in support from the Overlord and the [System]. With this new vision in mind, he stood and pressed onward, looking at his two titles again and his new third one. [The Goblin Slayer title boosts all damage dealt to goblins by 12%.] [The Skeleton Slayer title boosts all damage dealt to skeletons by 12%.] [The Overlord's Gifted title boosts decreases the cost of the health stat by 300% for each stat point] He was going to grind and level up. It was only 1 xp for 1 goblin or 1 skeleton. But he hoped to trigger the [System], trusting that it rewarded solo leveling.Chapter 26 - Goblin Dispatch and Reflections: Paths to Progression
Seeing his first goblin, he hesitated, seeing his future in front of him—a mass murderer, a grave-maker, a taunter of his friends who wished only for him to be that shy, innocent, and kind child again. He smiled with disdain. With the goblin prepared, as Witchman ran, he adjusted his aim and gutted it on the neck, moving his breathing with precision. Impressive takedown! You've just scored a solid 7+ XP for that solo victory! 🎉 He looked for another one and immediately pierced it on the same spot. He was becoming more adamant. He was charging them one by one and catching them off guard with how fast he angled and shifted the starting point of his spear thrusts. His arm muscles progressively gloated. Nicely done on that solo goblin takedown! Your skill earns you a cool 7+ XP! 🎉 He lacerated a single armored goblin three times consecutively, breaking its restarting momentum the same number of times. Great job defeating that armored goblin! You've earned yourself 42+ XP for your triumph! 🎉 Several goblins appeared, trying to slow him down with their arrows. But he was too quick, impaling them with the same spear. He didn't even switch his tactics. The goblins were solo-killed one by one, not ever being able to relay the reinforcements the need to be more careful than normal: Witchman's damage was deceptively high. 7 more goblins came his way, but his confidence had grown: he skewered, transfixed, slaughtered, eviscerated, and ravaged them. 10 goblins in total were dispatched, and his [Whirlwind Waltz] was used. Great job defeating 3 armored goblins by yourself speedily! You've earned yourself 189+ XP for your triumph! 🎉 50% bonus XP due to speed! Great job defeating 4 goblins by yourself quickly! You've earned yourself 42+ XP for your triumph! 🎉 50% bonus XP due to speed! He celebrated the win. Name: Matthew Cruz Level: 42 -> 43 Current experience: 105 Species: Human Age: 25 Skills: [Whirlwind Waltz] Spells: None / None Vitality: 15 Quests: [Bridge of Knowledge] Titles: [Goblin Slayer], [Skeleton Slayer], [Overlord's Gifted] Unused stat points: 86 Afterwards, he visited a familiar golem, the one he had first met in this world, wondering how golems were used. Since he came to Rodney's team to ask, he was immediately informed that golems were a special population purposed as an "energy hub network." He might have spent months learning, but he didn't necessarily understand the world. It was all disconnected pieces of information to him, and the only way he could understand them was by experiencing a wide range of everyday experiences firsthand over an sustained, extended period. This was why the last three months mattered, even if much of it was tumultuous. In the end, he didn't gain much, but he did try to secure the opportunities available to him. Though, unbeknownst to him, one of his many missed opportunities was not getting the artifact that Lumi showed him earlier. Ultimately, he took advantage of the opportunity to dispatch goblins while they were still sure they could handle a solo adventurer. Anyway, Rodney's team tried to explain the concept of golems, but he didn't understand much. He realized that mind was not connecting the dots, so he said that he was probably a little tired. He went to bed and fell asleep, his heart still beating tangibly. His high levels of stress were partly due to a lack of sleep. Later, he woke up, still lacking sleep. Meanwhile, at his most frequented guild, many adventurers were making noise, as various news circulated. "The quest [Hobgoblin Menace] is confirmed by thousands of soldiers! Even if it took three months, he's finally dead! Stability was now returning to the region!" Moreover, smaller but important news also came to their notice: "Tulips and Barkada Forces are beginning to dwindle. It is probably time for some dungeon clean-up. We've already contacted a coalition of adventurer parties making their way down to the Fourth Ring. Hardly anyone has forgotten potions this time, considering the strengthening Smog in the place. We can safely say that the region around that area is safe. But please don't forget that with dwindling, we are continuing the monitor the area for goblin activity. If you or anyone has seen a goblin, please activate your red cards." When Witchman finally arrived, he got wind of the circulating info, and he already understood the context behind them. "Tulips and Barkada Forces" were a particular band of outlaws that had begun to cover various fishing ponds and other beginner areas, preventing beginners from diving into fights with spawning goblins there due to the band's efficient pathing within a beginner division area. They were the ones Witchman dispatched earlier. The "Fourth Ring" was a particular monster spawning hot spot unique to the one of the major dungeons in the area, and it was notorious for carrying the highest death rate among a particular rank of adventurers. As for the reason of this, its terrain was deceptively deadly with many adventurers falling prey to blind spots and check points even with light sources. The monsters were also active in destroying any form of light since that prevented spawning, so that emphasized the territorial struggle. As for the rank of the most victimized adventurers there, they were "Silver". To explain, the adventurers were ranked from Iron, Bronze, Silver, Gold, Emerald, Diamond, Masters, Grandmaster, and Challenger. With that said, Witchman was only Iron at the moment, having fought with higher-ranked and veteran adventurers for all his quests, except for his new recent advancement into solo leveling against the goblins. In any case, Smog was a particular effect that carried various negative effects on humans in an area, especially in a dungeon. Sometimes, it slowed down movement; other times, it weakened damage dealt. As for the red cards, they were an magical innovation produced by a particular department residing in the adventurer guild building. Simply, triggering it alerted the guild operations. Returning to reality, Witchman tried to remember his goblin fight earlier. He knew well that it wasn't just a fight sustained in a vacuum. He noted various objectives based on the different piles of resources laid out in the area. There were fruits, specifically "dalandan," or sweet oranges, and from what he knew, these were a part of the typical goblin diet. But he knew that knowing diet preferences only had so much weight. What he focused on was their pattern of transportation. They were able to deliver so much fruits into a particular part of the rainforest. He wondered what was going on there. After he went to Rodney's information team to ask about it, he learned that they already knew about the goblins and their pattern of transportation and that it was better for him not to worry about it. They said that it was much more efficient for him to take quests from the board and leave those kinds of challenges to intelligence units like them. Witchman was blocked again, first time about the golems, the second time about the goblins and their pattern of transporataton. Though, they did try to explain the golems. He was just tired yesterday, so he asked about it. As mentioned earlier, he was still tired. But he did learn now that the golems had a fascinating cultural history. The concept of the golem was first pioneered by multiple inventors and contributors in the 6th millennium. But it was only in the 7th millennium that they became wide-spread. As millennia passed, they gradually fell out of use, replaced by more efficient forms of magic. Today, they were largely considered obsolete, only collected by niche collectors and enthusiasts. However, when it came to the golems in this town, they were very much alive and breathing due to magical "imprints" that had been laid down for this particular town at its establishment, giving these golems boosts that made their presence valuable in the community in the form of town-wide buffs to mana regeneration and more. However, even then, it was limited to the adventurer guild, and recently, there were talks of removing golems to make way for new magic tech. The imprints and various magical technologies utilized in the town's founding were growing outdated. These could be likened to software and hardware. In the end, Witchman already had many things needed to start a city-wide presence. All he had to do was persist in his solo adventuring. Then, he could incorporate other various activities such as enchantment testing, stat experimentation, and the remodeling of his pattern of attack with respect to his overall arsenal with skills, spells, and all, for well-roundedness. At the moment, he was going to visit Michel and the rest of the members of the first adventurer party. He wanted to understand first those who had died and why they died. His goal was to reset things and start off from a new layer of clean slate. If he could grasp the elements making up these individuals that he knew so well, then he could redesign his first adventurer group inheriting the former members. He had to continue to beat back against his previous expected failed attempts if he wanted to kickstart a launchpad. False starts, numerous false starts. Moving on to the action, he visited Michel and accompanied her on a trip to the border again. She took advantage of his visit by going to the border again. "Where are the others?" she asked, knowing what the determined look on Witchman's face meant. Witchman informed her that he would be trying to erect some way for them to advance. Even if they were low-ranked, with their recipes of success, it would a piece of cake for them to blitzkrieg their way to the top. He met Deathbringer and Sophia, handing them gifts. He was surprised by how fast they adjusted to home life, but it wasn't as if he knew them outside of adventuring anyway. Deathbringer said that he would be busy soon, and Sophia said that she could help. But she could only provide backup as long as it only involved tasks within the town. Witchman nodded, positioning Sophia in the "Utility" box in his mental map and tossing Deathbringer on the pile of character figures representing Michel and many others that he knew. This pile was in the "Combat" box. He already had proven that fighting was not that difficult. All he needed to do was prepare himself for when his enemies were much more careful and cunning. When he contacted the other adventurers, including Brackern, Tamer, Ada, Kairo, Echo, Ella, Nova, Marcher, Rodney, Brandon, Marsh Cranberry, Desmond Leroy, the six adventurers, Thorne, Elara, and Lumi, he immediately assembled a meeting. This was only possible because the guild rewarded his solo leveling engagement with the goblins by announcing it. This was pivotal in making this meeting possible. At the meeting, he suddenly cast a glance at Lumi, asking her if she still had that artifact. She said that she sold it yesterday because she was preparing to leave. Meanwhile, several adventurer parties joined the meeting from a recommendation by the six adventurers. They already knew about Witchman's strategic failure the last time, but they were sure that whatever he had prepared was likely going to be very rewarding. Desmond Leroy was crucial in convincing them to stop their mild heckling, since he was the third party most disadvantaged in that strategic failure. Witchman smiled with a sense of superiority, but acccompanied by a childish guffaw.Chapter 27 - Coastal Confrontation: Clash of Worlds
In another place, far outside the city, a community of goblins were in the middle of attaching several houses together. "Guys, we're in a hurry, but please commit to schedule. There hasn't been a single mishap thus far, so be prepared. Human energies are upon us, and any gap in attention will be rewarded with death!" Their voices reflected their cursory and prodding nature, childish yet almost lacking in that cadence usually reminiscent of humankind. But it was smooth like berries jumbled up in a space. The community was situated on a coastal area, as hundreds of trees were being targeted for felling. They needed space, because adventurers would be passing by here. As for why they were operating here, they wanted to ensure that their routes were still protected, so they needed to continue to build various hiding spots in case humans arrived. It wasn't invulnerable or impenetrable, but it saved goblin lives. They built various foxtrots all around and attached several inconspicuous hooks on the ladders to make it easier to climb the palm trees where they could hide. Moreover, they moved further up to a vantage point observing a lagoon adjacent to the wide coastal path. Here, they laid down a variety of stones and other resources tucked under leaves, bushes, and roped together and hung inside the leaves of a palm tree. These were their many strategies for coherence across a wide network of goblin traffic, having lived here for centuries but displaced due to human activity—the age-old story. Humans arrived, and Witchman was among them. They were excited at the prospect of forging control of the coastal areas, because travel and trade were still limited in these areas. Any attempt at an improved purview resulted in frustration, provided that they were most vulnerable to typhoons. They were also vulnerable to attacks from inland areas, thanks to being hemmed in by the sea. In the end, these areas were strategically valuable because they projected into the sea, serving as a bridgehead loosening up land and sea routes with one that basically surrounded the entire island group. For context, the place where Witchman was located was an island spanning 150,000 square kilometers in area. Even here, Witchman's influence was negligible, as he had only been participating in a tiny fabric of society back there in the city. If he wanted to play a larger role, he would need to continue developing his growth-oriented mindset. Ultimately, despite his invisible pressure on the map, he was farming knowledge, experience, levels, and units, intending to scale for late game. Witchman adopted a new friend—Michel stood brazen, her gaze as unshaken as ever. But this time, her expression was gloating, knowing that with her improved standing alongside Witchman and his associates, any attempt at dismantling her necrotic energy socio-politically would not prosper. In the end, the supporters of her necrotic power were plenty in the city. It was just that she was often blocked from adventurer parties and coalition lists due to it. But now, with a party protecting her, her less desirable sides were freed up, more so psychologically than actually. With that said, she prepared herself, as her powers were highly team-oriented. And her thirst for goblin blood that used to be a source of conflict between her and Witchman became an emblem behind encroaching further into goblin land. But this was not going to be easy. Many attempts at culling goblins to reduce them had the opposite effect—spread of goblins due to being scared off into relocating, resulting in higher birth rates. This meant a goblin community might already be on its way to birthrate stability by the time a goblin hotspot was identified and the local goblins were killed, causing the birthrate to destabilize. To explain, similar to some species of primates, goblins were serial monogamists. So they didn't make more children with the same goblin. That was why when they went to new communities, they made more children. Moreover, goblins matured much faster than humans, which was why they were often described as "infestive creatures." Meanwhile, the goblins waited, hundreds of goblins hiding peacefully around the area Witchman and his buddies walked through. "Eyes up," Deathbringer said, holding a dark sword with fire emanating from it, his form gigantic due to a skill that increased muscle mass temporarily. He used it early to spin-charge the first enemy he found. It was also a cheap skill, being very strong for situations like these. He was struck with a spear. The spear was laced with venomous, frustrating Deathbringer's burst of energy. He fell to the ground, groaning. As for the others, they were quick to dismantle the attacker into dozens of pieces, shining a highlight upon their event of death. Chuckles and bursts of nervousness-tinted guffaws danced along the ley lines of this environment. The sooner they dashed, the sooner the goblins enumerated their forces, looking upon each other each marked by a glorious gaze. The men would scatter, and the goblins would understand their place among the city lands. The sky became heat with reddish marks, as a skill from one of the goblins summoned a spectral dragon that burned the area in a long line, leaving behind a wall of flame. This stalled the rageful charge of the humans, so he counted the timer, since he was also preparing himself for a moment of magical stasis, one that produced hundreds of bats. This was another skill he was gifted by the gods, one that allowed him to become as quick as a bat while producing numerous bats simultaneously. He hopped in place, preparing to move. He wasn't at all dissuaded against wasting physical energy, since he had to be in his optimal state to execute his magic—a psychological mechanism involved. The humans fled, Witchman following them, as the wall of flame fell, marking the introduction of an armored hobgoblin wielding hundreds of bats at his command. He raised the right hand in an ominous gesture, flying with the helpful wings of the bats. He shot down arrows clumsily. Meanwhile, the rest of the goblins ran away, watching the humans spitting flames of fire, casting magical zooming attacks, and preparing to slash the nearest goblins. They were in a state of frenzy, moving progressively faster. The goblins made a shield formation, casting magical shields along a line. The humans stopped, using their poking abilities to keep the goblins preparing to catch them off guard at a distance. The goblins and humans went back and forth. In the meantime, Witchman waited before, according to plan, launched with the help of movement speed buffs from the artifact that Lumi had. She had bought it again after he insisted on paying her double for it. With the right money and haste, many things were possible. He dashed, using his [Whirlwind Waltz] to stun the goblins that happened to align next to each other. This was a successive stunning, crafting the best opportunity for the adventurers to loom over and become bombardments upon them. The goblins were quickly dismantled one by one, as several goblins tried unsuccessfully to engage the enemies. But it was too late. They malpositioned, and any more attacks, even if they showed significant prowess and dealt worrying damage, failed to dispatch key targets among the adventurers. The long-range archers were quick, drawing arrows that took so much muscle to pull, and blasting them at the goblins with astounding power and speed. The impact was explosive, turning goblin stiffness to fleshly decapitations of life. They were assaulted from various sides, flying men turning their feeble shadow-accompanied forms to dust. Magical bursts of light emerged, symbolizing the end of the fight. Tanks roamed around, archers took their position, and various melee warriors looked at the canopies of the rainforest. They didn't feel too bothered by the predicament, even if not all of them were able to do optimally. The goblins were finished off due to weak positioning and due to excessive focus on taking this particular objective—the lagoon. Their preparation was offset by more significant objectives further down the coastal path. The humans put down magical artifacts that levelled up the land gradually. These were basic aspects of maintaining control. The more level the land, the more easier it was for them to create a clear space. It was mostly for aesthetic, but it did have a slight impact on the land. They could have just used the road to set up camp, but they didn't. Anyway, most of them left, leaving behind a large enough group of adventurers to scout the area. They were in a hurry to connect the city to this area. Even with the war going on, the best defence was offence. So with the same principles the adventurers who had befriended the hobgoblins took, they made a small place. Although it ultimately failed to bring in trade since the focus of the city lay elsewhere, it was still a good military exercise. Witchman returned to the city, praying that he didn't have to do that again. He was aghast since that situation reminded him of his first time in this world when the goblins chased him. Even now, he was reliving those past moments as if they were present-day and present-time. Anyway, an outpost group from the goblin community immediately reconnected and reinhabited the coastal areas, miffed that the humans did war for sport rather than practicality. Later, back at the city cafe, Witchman laughed at the idea that he had forgotten to bring food for himself, being the only way without extra food. Everyone brought personal food along with group food since they didn't want to monopolize the shares. It was part of their culture to do this. But Witchman, coming from a different culture, didn't really care. He just laughed at the idea that even with all his experience, he could still be considered an ignoramus to this place—the goblins, the murder, the murder, the murder. He returned to his inn, staring at the orb that he used earlier in the fight. "Without this, I would have died." He let out a guffaw, relief swelling in his veins, his heart pulsating, and his head beginning to grow light. He was not here to have a mental breakdown. He just wanted a time to think. He looked again at the various instances of progression throughout the street, seeing the several new golem constructs in the area. The road was also cleaner, as more buildings were being renovated for goblin slave selling. His former workplace when he was an employee relations manager was not here, but the forlorn expressions of one of the various vendors did remind him of the employees he had to deal with. It wasn't too troublesome, but he did feel that it was better for him now that he would be struggling to make ends meet if he let go of his ambitions. These ambitions involved fighting. He wasn't a fighter, but for some reason, he was thoroughly convinced that this had been the way he was since the beginning. It was his destiny to have gone through everything to be here in the first place. Maybe, that allowed him to cope, but he didn't know exactly. He just had a strong feeling. He went to the dungeons, as he spent his 88.31 unspent points in health, gaining 99 health and leaving behind 0.2 unspent points. Overall, he had 906 health now. He didn't spend the points earlier in the fight out of impulsivity, thanks to how much support he got recently, which gave him little time to manage his emotions. At the dungeons, watching several goblins compiling lists in order to make it easier for the living core of the dungeon to understand what was next in the priority list. These goblins functioned independently from the rest of the goblins, having developed a personal connection to this core in a mutual relationship. But Witchman did not discriminate, his taut smirk emerging and exiting like a maniac.Chapter 28 - A Dark Decree and the Burden of Names
Far away, at a higher place, where the wind met the plains flanked by hillsides, which hinted at mountains further in the distance, figures of goblins walked in a line, interspaced by long spans of distance, which were far enough to express a collective sense of control over the environment, but short enough to be only a dash away. The air was wild and flourishing, taking poise among the goblin figures where street lamps lit the path. These lamps were expensive, but with the help of the goblins' energy, they were powered. This was not actually effective, but it served as a symbol of human cultural superiority. It was pragmatic to keep humans in the lane of glory while goblins outside the order of life into the stait of darkness. This was the crucial definition provided by the city and its history—a complex interplay of love, adoration, and greatness. This was its pinnacle of authority, sovereignty, definite and perfected beyond order, only breakable by the limitations imposed by Nature and those other sovereigns that denied it. Here, the goblins took strides, their voices calm and wavy like sea far off the horizon in the astral planes beyond the flat plains. This was where the sea fell to the depths of space. Behind these goblins, a group of adventurers, whom Witchman knew, bickered like little daisies awaiting a presidential order. About the coming storm, It was going to make things difficult later on, but this could be pleasant if given the magical energies they prepared—skills that could mitigate its negative effects for them to see the beauty beyond the shade in the limelight of wet droplets of life. Within the goblins' sights, the human Witchman stared, his voice like a croak, his eyes like those who had seen God, his lips growing weary and chapped, his stomach aching, his mind breaking under the thunderous roars of guilt. He saw that he was capable of violence, and he detested it, despising power for all its evil. But his words were: "I deserve this. Give it to me!" His weapons were swift, aligning with the goblin forms. In the darkness... no... in the light, greatness was given formation. He slashed through them, his weapon like a pie prepared for storm. He bladed (turned them to slice parts) them to river ale that was red and beating and pulsating like fiery chasms within the taste of spicy milk. He burned their faces with his glorious power, slicing off the tulip—the spine—that made up their body. It burned under a radiant light. He felled them apart, falling through with his actions until daylight spread its last breath where the night with its gloomy core memories budded like leaves in the shed holding a coming feast. His weapons were swift, separating each facet from each other, as hundreds of slices of bread-like flesh dissipated like dust in the swallow's breeze. The rendering of their forms as formless became its cherry on top. He reddened them, lighting atop their head a candle of death, breezily swallowing the stray paint that detached from their canvas body as an offering to entrenched waters that represented his inherent right to power. This was his bountiful fresh river rain. Truncating their faces in a rivery slash, he moved farther beyond their shadow, claiming the land upon their bodies filled with hair and green shades. He rode the wave of the blade, his hands moving like fresh springs juicy to the throat. He punched, creating impacts that reminded him of death. Death was his friend. "Gah!" he bawled; the bodies dropping to the ground, all goblins. The smell of fresh water distracted him. The red amid a river of blood. The red here was the succinct theme of the [System], as he descended in levitation toward the new man Witchman. "Witchman," said the voice of the [System]. It was different, one filled with awe, one filled with wonder. The glory of Witchman's reign started here in this massacre. "You are valid. You are validated. You are deserving of this power you now wield." Witchman thought he heard wrong, but he was sure it was all right. "Thank you. I don't see myself doing this very often." He wiped his tears, experiencing euphoria of violence, one rooted in mental deterioration and confusion regarding the definition of love. He was problematic. He was glorious! On the [System]'s prompting—he shouted to the heavens, "The Heavens have bestowed to me a power, and I will use it." He and the [System] laughed, their voices like apple swathed in feathery cotton, one pressed yet subtly refined in its puff (pastry case). The night graded from purplish red to reddish green due to certain magical whispers in the atmosphere. Witchman smiled. He knew he was finally home. At a new town called "Greenfield", a relatively short distance away the camp where the hobgoblin-human alliance had been established, hundreds of members were way past the embers of city-supported town-building. They were furthering the reaches of their specializations in the trade structure, delivering new goods to the market and increasing the share of the alliance's income. Even with Witchman's recent advancements, he was still many steps away, being flanked by competition at many sides. Michel, his most mentioned benefactor, even amid her participation in the coastal engagement with Witchman, had personal interests. She recently signed as an entrant into the new adventurer guild. Though, it was often humorously referred to as a "builder barracks" instead, considering how even the adventurers were being made to build and tend to tasks like inspecting the land and features in order to smoothen the relocation process for new residents. To sum, adventurers could be compared to a pageboy for the community members becuase they were specialized in combat with skills and all and were flexible workers. Michel met with several adventurers, having known several of them since many moved to the new town to reap the benefits of a fertile land, especially considering the low-level dungeon. It was typical for most adventurers to favor low-level dungeons because they gave more loot for lower levels of effort. But that didn't mean that high-level dungeons were unrewarding. They just demanded a better class of adventurer. "How has the impisces been going so far?" she said, her voice a little tired from the engagement. It hadn't been a day yet since then, but it was typical for adventurers to be the social lifeblood of the city, active even during the night. Furthermore, the term "impisces" referred to magical artifacts used to establish communication across the city, but they were only used for emergencies at the moment due to being expensive to build and maintain and to use mana-wise. She didn't think much of it, finding it difficult for her to return to the border to help out. The border was being expected to standardize, and it was growing more contentious as the rewards grew and the quality of adventurer raised with the current war. She couldn't help out because it was cheaper to have higher-level adventurers stand watch instead. Adventurers didn't have to worry about their skills getting worse overtime, so for those who were stronger, often times, they only needed to sit down and relax until an attack occurred. Then, they would use their stuck-in-time skills and spells, frustrating any effort at a noticeable dent on the border. Her rank was much lower than the rest, and her only use was being a border guard. Now that she and the adventurers accompanying her right now were no longer wanted, they immediately looked for opportunity elsewhere. But the expectations of the town becoming important was low. So those who did participate in its development could be considered risk-takers. She smirked, as she went to the nearby dungeon, casting several spells that struck several skeletons. It did was negligible poke damage, but it healed her. She did this every once in a while to avoid spending too much money relying on healers to help her maintain her necrotic arm. Flanking a heated pot held up by a fence-like frame, she stood next to a chair created with the help of very talented craftsmen. These craftsmen formed a small group along with workboys, assistants, and apprentices. To explain, apprentices were more like assistants, workboys did more menial work, and assistants helped out with more delicate work while not actually being apprentices. The tents nearby her were white and had curtains. "Fish," was the only she understood from something one of her adventurer friends said, going over these tents, her focus somewhat distracted. After a brief pause, she looked up and said, "Oh, the cat." She got some fish head from her banana peel. Incidentally, several children emerged from the side, wrestling with each other, shouting with joy and excitement, their playing reminiscient of the glorious sun. They lounged, making their way through the corridors of the monolith called the world. Their knowledge lended to ingenious ideas when they climbed, ran, dashed, leapt, and dodged, their all manners of play rendering them unstoppable. They flew toward the sky briefly before falling down, catching themselves and each other on the feathery ground. Their eyes were closed with contentment, later opening again to guide their feet through the rich quality of the forest haven. What was amazing to them was dull to the adults because times changed. On that note, Michel returned to her spot in the new town, gathering her things together and leaving homeward. At home, soon, she recalled the necromancy lab she saw as a child. It had a warehouse, an infirmary, clothing shop, alchemy shop, mad alchemist, weapon shop, a graveyard where she could recruit undead, enhancers, and wagons to bring her and the undead to fight. She wished to bring that dream to life. She later met with Witchman. Speaking of which Witchman, he reunited with Michel and Brackern and Brandon too. He called them by their full names. Brandon was Redspiller Warmaker. Michel was Doomsinger Mighttaker. Brackern was Suneater Herculeanridder. Witchman didn't thinking much about it, but he knew that names gave power, which was why he changed his name, hoping to be rewarded by the [System] somehow. To explain, Brandon's first name "Redspiller" increased his chance of bleeding by 10% on all instances of damage, and his second name "Warmaker" increased his chances at provoking large conflict if he was the one in charge by 10%. This was simple enough, but it didn't really sound like something Witchman could measure by observation. Michel's first name "Doomsinger" increased her damage dealt by 12% on enemies below 13% health. Witchman didn't understand how the name led to that passive ability. Her second name "Mighttaker" led to her gaining one unused stat point upon killing any higher-level opponent. Witchman thought that this was too strong and tied well with her necromancy skill of making traps stronger. As for Witchman, his new name didn't give him anything yet. He asked about it, but they said that even normal names usually had an effect, even if they weren't necessarily obvious like "Redspiller". Though, it was often random and useless. He hoped to received something that strengthened his magic abilities somehow, so he went for "Witchman," thinking it might make him more like a witch because he thought "Mageman" or something similar was too vague and might give him a passive ability that didn't specialize well. His reasoning was based on intuition, but that could only go so far. He shrugged and would deal with the consequences, whatever they were. After catching up somewhat with the three adventurers about events, feelings, and adventuring, they parted aways with deep breaths and introspective gaits paving the way. Since things had changed so much since he last went to the inn, Witchman went there, hoping to see Lumi, Thorne, and Elara leaving. But they weren't there. He frowned briefly before smiling with self-admonishment. He already knew that he would miss them. But life had gone so well for him. Who could fault him for being hopeful? The world allowed him to rest softly into the gentle early morning while it was still dark. His heart spurned thoughts of grief, sorrow, anger, strife, and conflict and accepted a sense of defeat, that which preceded victory. The next morning, at Witchman's cottage, the [System] offered Witchman the new skill—[Cattle Decapitation]—along with the new [System] quest. Cattle Decapitation (Level 1) Cost: 100 Mana Cooldown: 24 days Cast Time: Instant Effect Radius: 37500 (150 meters) Width: 1200 (4.8 meters) Speed: 15000 (60 meters) per second Active: The user channels dark energy, summoning a surge of spectral cattle skulls that charge forward in a line. Enemies caught in the surge take high magical damage and are stunned. Additionally, enemies hit by the surge have their defenses weakened, reducing their armor and magic resistance for a short duration. Damage: 208.1 (200 + 30%🔥) Stun Duration: 1.5 seconds Armor Reduction: 20 Magic Resistance Reduction: 20 Debuff Duration: 3 seconds The [System] said: "I have been holding you back from getting skills because I didn't think you deserved it. But now... I'm starting to see a trend that I like." Witchman covered half his face, wiping his sweat, and nodded. "Thank you... are there any other options?" The [System] smirked. "How about this?" Empathy (Level 1) Cost: 100 Mana Cooldown: 24 days Cast Time: Instant Effect Radius: 250 (1 meter) Active: The user taps into their empathic abilities, projecting waves of understanding and compassion. Allies within the radius of the effect gain increased resilience and morale for 4 seconds. They also receive a shield that absorbs damage equal to 20% of their maximum health. Additionally, allies affected by Empathy have their cooldowns reduced by 20% for the duration Duration: 4 seconds Shield Strength: 20% of maximum health Cooldown Reduction: 20% Witchman knew how powerful shields were, especially since they allowed repositioning to advantage, and they were much more flexible than skills like [Cattle Decapitation]. "Guess why you have these options?" the [System] said. "Why?" Witchman said. "[Empathy] came from the Kindness quest, while [Cattle Decapitation] came from your mental deterioration!" "Huh? Wouldn't [Cattle Decapitation] be [Mental Disorder] then?" He laughed nervously, hoping he didn't say something ominous. "Maybe... But I don't really choose it. It's random! But also depends! So keep doing those quests, then you'll have more options next time. You'll lose [Empathy] if you choose the cattle one, so pick wisely!" He disappeared. Witchman rubbed his temples, his distraught expression naked for the world to see. "Why 24 days cooldown? Is this like a lottery ticket or the opposite... thereof? I don't even know." "Does mana even matter? I haven't seen mana..." The [System] showed him his stats with two new attributes. Attack Damage🪓: 75 Ability Power🔥: 27 Armor🛡️: 57 Magic Resistance🚫: 60 Health🗿: 906 Mana💧: 311 Mana regeneration💧 (per 10 minutes): 7 He realized that his priorities would shift toward analyzing his stats and his skills and how he could use them. At the cottage, Witchman smelled the air, and it was humid. He smelled, so he took a shower, freshening up. As soon as he went outside, the sun warmed his body delightfully. Filled with awe, he stared at the trees outside and their rustling leaves. He sat down and waited. He remembered something, running all the way to a certain cottage. He saw a familiar group of ducks and one bigger swan that had gathered on the vegetation. He saw a particular woman. "Drakekiller Rollingthunder," he said. "You killed someone..." "Yeah... what about it?" she said, laying down an old blade, next to a bowl of sopa. Incidentally, she took a sip from it, sustaining an obvious slurping noise. Anyway, Witchman never addressed many issues he had encountered in his life here on this world, but he thought that he should address this one. As for why he came here alone, he made a mistake. "Shit." He remembered the disgusting man.Chapter 29 - Solipsistic Slaughter
To address how he came to the mistake of coming alone to Drakekiller's place, he didn't want all his eggs in one basket. Moreover, a part of him felt that he was back to square one. As for the reason of this, most of his successes had largely stemmed from him playing the metaphorical merchant selling group tactics and dynamics. Specifically, he organized adventurer parties or teams to work together on quests systematically through the guild board. This was why he wanted to diversify into the goblin realm. But in the end, his situation. Returning to the present, he was worried he triggered an event that could lead to a fight, so even now, he was staring and waiting for the woman to speak. His life was in her hands because he lacked information. If he had information beforehand, then this situation wouldn't have happened. He made sure to pick up the [Cattle Decapitation] skill in case she decided to attack, and he wished that he could've just chosen the more flexible skill [Empathy]. But this situation happened. In the end, his next steps would involve prioritizing information gathering even more. As for why he remembered the disgusting man, it was a similar situation of a lack of information regarding dangers and risks. After that previous encounter with that man, he later learned that this man was a bandit capable of portal teleportation. If he knew about this, would that have made a difference? Likely no, but if he knew that portal magic existed and understood the skills the disgusting man used, he wouldn't have been caught off guard. Knowing the enemies' skills was common in tournaments with regulars, but it was different in this world where enemies could have all kinds of skills. However, with enough knowledge and systematic preparation, hesitation and inefficiency could be mitigated. Anyway, the woman didn't make a move yet, so he continued normally: "Was that someone a bandit?" "Yes," said the woman. "Thank God." "Why... Oh, I should have explained. I'm sorry. It's been a while since I've really gone outside." "Outside?" "I mean there in the city. I am outside... haha..." She was laughing to herself. "Have... you been alone all this time?" "No... maybe..." He didn't squint. "So what do you want to do now?" "Now? I don't know. When I spoke to you last, I was feeling kinda sure... yeah... something like that." "Really... I guess you were like that right?" "Yeah." "Is it... comfortable... in the forest, you know?" "Something about the forest... I, I, I, I, I.... I haven't seen much about what's going on the city. Tell me about it." "The... You did say that Sophia used to be someone... you knew...hmm?" "Yes. Uh, but it's been a while, so I don't know." "Really... Uh, do you still want to go to the city..." "Not really." "How about... traveling?" "No. I'm just thinking of staying for a while before moving to a different place. But I'm not completely sure if... things are going to go well... It's been a while after all." Witchman didn't want to continue this conversation for too long, as per his habit of a fast-paced lifestyle. But he did find some value in talking to a hermit. "So what's been going on recently that you feel like saying... something interesting, you know?" "I was taking care of a chest... The kind that moves... The mimic one..." "Uh, interesting—what?" "Yeah. I was... speaking to three demons... and they were... with the chest." "What!" "Yeah, yeah. I just never really thought about it, but it's kinda funny that they've been here long long enough... for a while that I was able to learn that they actually came from a nearby dungeon, which is weird they... aren't... how do I say this... protective... or something like that?" "Protective? What do you mean?" "They aren't strong. No, They aren't monsters? I think that's what I'm trying to say." "So they're move like people?" "Yeah, I think that's what I mean. I wasn't really... there." "You weren't there...?" "I was going to the city actually because I wanted to make sure they had food and stuff before they left, and I don't know. I never tamed a monster, so I'm not sure what they do. But I do remember that there's a specific food that can be bought that makes them... tamed monsters... stronger." "Are you sure it would work on them though?" "Yeah—I don't know." Witchman raised his voice: "Why? Why do you... Why?" "Uh, yeah..." "I can try... to tell you about it, but I'm... I don't know." "You don't know. Can you not be so... I'm sorry. Just... It's been a while I guess, and I'm learning"—he laughed—"something new for the first time again. Can you, can you, can you tell me about it?" "Sure." "Before that... why does it feel like you're a little tired or something?" He didn't want to be mean, but he just wanted to ask. "What? Oh, I am a little tired... I haven't slept... as you can tell." She pointed at her eyebags. "Right," he said succinctly. "So how did you meet these people?" "People?" "The mimic?" "I saw them. They were walking around, and they were actually attacking bandits from what I saw. I saw it, and it's very unusual. But I didn't think much of it because I guess I wasn't really thinking that it could be a big problem. If they were this close to the city, then most likely, the adventurers had it under control, because back in my day, we used to hang around the city periphery because that was the only way to keep the monsters from entering the city grounds. At that time, the city and its walls were less, much less. And I guess I just didn't really think about why the mimic was there." He was confused why she was so clear about her past but so weirdly unclear about the mimic. "What?" "Yeah, so when I did see them, my first instinct was to just stay back and not think too much about it." "Wait, wait, what if they were dangerous? There's a war going on, you know? It would be weird if we just let them do whatever they want." "That makes sense." "No, it doesn't make sense. How about the demons?" "The demons... They were... really weird. They sounded weird. They were very talkative, and I thought I was going to die actually." "Because you didn't run." He lowered his voice to a murmur. "What are you a horror show side character?" "Should we tell the city?" "You really have no idea how crazy this situation is." Her recounting of the event was just about to be the weirdest shit he had ever seen in his life. After their conversation, he returned to the cottage with a sigh. For the first time in a while, he thought out loud: "Wait a minute. Were people like this? Do they just tell themselves, 'Well, okay, hnh-hnh, I am the epitome of life, and everything will work out. Wow!' Seriously can you tell me what the fuck is going on? Why am I supposed to fucking do all the fucking work and not at all see any single progress from people whatsoever..." He sounded incredibly sarcastic." It is so funny. It is the funniest thing, just seeing people being so irrational incompetent like a bunch of loser limp-dicks whose lives are being dicated by their dumbass shitty hole of a brain." He pretended to clear his throat as a polite signal to counterbalance his high level of frustration. "No... There's just this funny thing... There's just this funny thing about people. When I see them, they talk, they squawk, they live like little ducks sitting in a pond. And you know what I see? Nothing. No words, no talking. No little human being in this world because apparently, people like to stroke their little mm-hmm in order to facilitate their little demise." He didn't want to see people constantly putting him at a distance because it was so damaging to his operation, to his managing, to his hoping, to his dream, and to his life. He wondered why people did this. He said half-genuinely, half-sarcastically, with a concluding smile: "I am the person who had tried my best to understand why people do things, and I don't know still. But I'm hoping that things work out." He took a deep breath. He was doing so much for everyone, but no one was there. Because of all his disappointment and confusion, he did something he had never done and only done back on Earth. He took a long shower lasting an hour. It was a good thing this world had the proper technology and infrastructure for this, because if not, he would go bat-shit insane. Was it valid for him to express his frustration? He had never expressed this explicit level of frustration after over three months, and he had gone through so much rough shit during that time. People helped him, but he was beginning to see a lack of progress from people in terms of their clarity of communication. It felt that despite all his efforts, he hadn't really made any progress really when it came to bringing people closer to him. Instead, it felt like he was distancing himself further the more he tried to help people and improve the overall state of things. In the end, he was finally venting out all of that. In simple terms, he wanted people to communicate clearly and effectively. "If they just did this, if they just did that. If they just communicated this, if they just communicated that" would all go away if people actually reciprocated his proactivity. He was a champion of a people that couldn't sit on their knees—always lying down and embracing the earth and all its failures. He needed to correct their little loser lives. He was the epitome of grace and beauty. And if he could, he would rather not need people. He was tired of the unpredictability of others and wished that he alone became everything. He wanted to help others, sure, but collaborating with others was a feat he couldn't attain. He needed to enact his justice through solo leveling. "[System], please, I need your help," he said. The [System] appeared with a validating expression. He continued: "I want to try doing this alone. These people, these apes, are unable to do anything whatsoever. I tried, I really did. My family's so much better than these mofos. But look at me! Look at me! I am the only one keeping all this together! And I'm exaggerating, sure, but I do want to get things done. I do want to help people. I'm just tired of being left alone outside the gate once I've gathered my confidence and spent years trying to help people. What a joke! What a sick joke!" The [System] had been nodding the entire time. This was a dangerous echo chamber. "Don't do this! Don't!" didn't exist here. "I am the epitome of grace and beauty," Witchman said, quietly at first, before repeating it with a resounding yes. The [System] acknowledged him. Instead of chuckling and saying how awkward and edgy he was, he groomed him further against being a crybaby loser who exhibited kindness, trust, and empathy so naively: "Why not?" The [System] showed him a new skill, since it was his choice when to reveal the information about the skill anyway. That withholding of information used to be a source of contention between him and Witchman, but now, it was a mutual benefit. "What do you think?" he said. Solipsistic Slaughter (Level 1) Cost: 150 Mana Cooldown: 30 days Cast Time: 0.75 seconds Effect Range: 1000 (4 meters) Active: The user channels their egoistic energy into a devastating strike aimed at a single target. The strike inflicts massive magical damage to the target and nearby enemies. Enemies hit by the strike have their sense of self shattered, causing them to doubt their own abilities. This doubt manifests as a reduction in their attack damage, ability power, and movement speed for a short duration. Damage: 300 (270 + 40%🪓) Area of Effect: 500 (2 meters) Attack Damage Reduction: 30 Ability Power Reduction: 30 Movement Speed Reduction: 30% Debuff Duration: 3 seconds They both didn't want to see it unused, so with the help of the flying [System], they went deep into the rainforest where the [System] guided him toward a group of goblins. Witchman used the skill against them even with the 0.75-second cast time, and the goblins succumbed to it quickly. They only had around 500 health, and their attack damage was less than that reduced by the skill debuff. So they dealt 0 damage to him for 3 seconds. One goblin had a skill, but it only stunned Witchman briefly and dealt too little damage to matter. Ultimately, Witchman barely moved and neutralized them with basic attacks since they couldn't even run due to the slow debuff. This was his first calculated kill. Great job defeating 4 goblins by yourself quickly! You've earned yourself 42+ XP for your triumph! 🎉 50% bonus XP due to speed! He didn't mention it before, but he was in debt. The war made food go up in price threefold, and he spent lots of money to organize adventurer quest events. He even quit his employee relations job to help out more, but he later realized that was a mistake. His frustration earlier was a money problem. So his next priority was money. Marvelous achievement! Dispatching 4 goblins single-handedly and swiftly has rewarded you with 12+ gold coins! 🎉 Additionally, relish a 50% bonus in gold coins as recognition for your exceptional speed Monsters dropped coins, so that was part of his rationale behind being an quest event organizer. It could be compared to a bazaar event organizer, and that was partly his inspiration since Deathbringer, Sophia, and the rest of the former first party members sold as merchants of a bazaar. He accompanied them around that past time, also seeing Marcher with the villagers and then his body much later on in the war. He was not in a happy place. He was in a pragmatic one.Chapter 30 - The Epitome of Grace and Violence
Rumors began to circulate of Witchman's feats under that new name, as he did move most of his activities to the farther adventurer guild where the name "Witchman" was born. Plus, this lowly guild was looking for new ways to boost their engagement, so they were willing to have Witchman be a frontman, even if much of the information they circulated was based on rumors. This was good for the guild, but as soon as they approached him about it, Witchman had doubts regarding the actual effectiveness of rumor-based leadership. If he was only followed because he was good at double speak and rumor manipulation, he would not stand under the testimony of the adventurers he relied on so much. The role of a lone wolf was safer for now. This would mean that he would center his influence to the field, but that could be dangerous, since as long as his name and feats was being held against him, he would have to comply with the image, or else he would be circulated as a fraud, which was even worse than being admired. He was basically in a situation akin to blackmail. These were the consequences of doing well—the tall poppy syndrome of "either be the frontman and leader or be cut down." As a response, his goal was to gather members, especially his admirers, to form an adventurer party, cultivating authenticity by consolidating his image and his actual presence. This would address his personal debt as well since being a leader commanded a higher percentage of the coin share. To extend his activities to a broader level, he was already starting to demonstrate something akin to a monopoly within the city, having spent only 3 months in adventuring in order to reach a level where he was commanding three adventurer parties, although two were former ones, to work with him. Returning to the moment, Witchman was at the adventurer guild, which wasn't actually a building but the quest board outside in front of the gate—a very scuffed representation. But it did provide Witchman with an idea of the different ways adventurer guilds can appear, which sparked a light in him for developmental plans ahead. As soon as he stood there, he looked around for adventurers, finding two beggars walking around in an aimless manner. "Hey, do you guys know me? I'm the person who killed the goblins a little over there." He wanted to get the job done and load them into a fresh group immediately. The beggars nodded, but they didn't look impressed. In fact, they just walked away. Witchman blinked with confusion. He didn't expect that reaction. Anyway, the actual adventurers came, and that was his time to strike. He repeated himself, searching their faces for a smile. He finally found them—his admirers. They said that they could form a party with him, but they wanted to see his combat abilities first. Witchman smirked almost. He was fine with humility, but this was the right time to demonstrate what he could do. If he convinced them that his party was worth transferring to, he would reap the rewards. He went out there a little deeper in the forest. Following, the adventurers stared at him. Witchman looked for a group of goblins, but it took an hour to find them. Now that he found them, he used his two skills: [Whirlwind Waltz] and [Cattle Decapitation]. [Solipsistic Slaughter] was still on cooldown unfortunately. The goblins fell apart quickly like dominoes in a porey wind-struck shed. "What the..." Witchman said. It was his first time using the skills. The adventurers cast their skills, not at the goblins, but at Witchman. Witchman fell to the ground. "Wait..." His voice was weak. Despite his meteoric rise, Witchman was in no way powerful. He was beaten several times before being thrown against a tree. He was kicked at the same spot many times. They planned to kill him, but they wanted to test Witchman's durability. Witchman was all alone now. Why did he ever leave his friends? The adventurers told him that if he wanted to live, he could become their little pageboy. Were they really his admirers? Or did they admire him (his strength) so much they wanted him as a dog? He goofed and missed the signs that they were abnormal. He was too sure of himself. Why didn't the [System] help him now? He was dragged to a surface lava pit. He shouted with all his might: "Please, I'm sorry! I don't what I did to you! But please! I don't want to die!" He was so used to being so powerful behind that metaphorical desk of control and superiority where he chatted away and told people what to do. He had forgotten that everyone had a plan until they got punched in the face—the easy defeat of an arrogant human being by people sycophantic and opportunistic enough to do so. "Please!" He had so much potential. He was thrown into the lava pit. Witchman burned, begging the world to feel sorry for him. "No!" he screamed ferociously. He was removed from the lava pit and then healed with red potions. Then he was dumped into the pit again. "No!" His voice was muffled this time. He was removed from the laval pit and then healed with red potions. "Please! Not again, not again!" Then he was dumped into the pit again. He gurgled. He was brought back out, and the smiles on the adventurers' faces were clear. "Join us." Witchman realized that he had to become the epitome of grace, but in order to do that, he would have to be a slave for these people. If not, then his journey would end here. "Okay," he said, adopting a serious expression. It was genuine, but it was also crafted for sincerity. He didn't want to go back there. He had no skills. They were on cooldown. That was why he lost. Even if he lost this battle, it didn't mean he lost the game. He would trust this world and his friends to win in their own lanes and continue to play the game. Getting gang-killed once was fine because he could turn things around with patience. Even if his lane was at a disadvantage, he could rotate outside the lane to the same objectives that all adventurers shared. This was actually what he did when he organized an adventurer quest coalition to attack the monster hideout. Alternatively, he could focus on taking uncontested objectives while his enemy counterparts focused on other objectives. That was also his goal for being here at this side of the city with the less established adventurer guild, but he didn't respect his enemies and got caught. As for a third alternative, it would involve going to other lanes and gang-killing at objectives, letting off pressure in other lanes before returning to his own station. This was effectively what he did with his fellow adventurers at two past events: the coastal engagement and the monster hideout attack. Overall, he needed to maximize his lane pressure and keep his enemy counterparts with minimal pressure. This was why he wanted to broaden his scope of influence, which he started by meeting Drakekiller. In conclusion, he followed the adventurers who had group-attacked him with a systematic approach. As for the group, they had 8 plots against him: a magical contract to prevent him from attacking them, threats of further torture and punishment if he rebelled or didn't comply, recruiting other prisoners to increase the group's manpower and leverage against him, conditional rewards, physical restraints, isolation and segregation, constant surveillance, and using him for dangerous tasks or missions on behalf of the group. To clarify, they couldn't have a magical contract that prevented him from indirectly attacking them through asking for help and such, so isolation was a must. They also couldn't have a contract that made him follow their orders forever. Bringing the focus back to immediacy, the adventurers watched Witchman, hesitating whether it was more advisable to kill him now or continue with the plan. If Witchman showed any sign of strength, they would eliminate him. But Witchman was careful, allowing himself to express his fear through shaking hands. This made it easier for the adventurers to guarantee that their plan could work if they managed effectively. The mental effects of post-torture trauma saved him. Though, he didn't know why they didn't just euthanize him. Was keeping him as an elephant worth the trampling cost? Couldn't they just have gotten experience and levels from his death? Maybe, using him to trample enemies was an effective strategy? Meanwhile, one of the adventurers smiled. "Excuse me," he said. Witchman glanced at him before looking at the rest of the adventurers. "What..." he mumbled. "Do you want to see something?" The adventurer looked like he was about to show something funny or cool to his younger brother. Witchman was confused. Why were they being like this? "Okay..." The adventurer dragged him to a cave. "This is a dungeon." "Yeah—" "No, but look!" He pointed excitedly. Witchman glanced before realizing that the cave was very vast, and it had lush vegatation hanging from the ceiling. "What is that?" "Lush caves!" "Really..." The adventurer grabbed Witchman and kicked him, beating him again and again, growling in rage. "Shut the fuck up!" Witchman was unable to think for a while. Several awkward minutes passed before he got up and wondered what the hell just happened. The adventurer was mentally unstable. Witchman wanted to face-palm. The adventurers went to the goblins and beat them up, torturing them with his fists. Witchman rubbed his forehead. If that adventurer hadn't beat him up and shouted at him, he might have been on the side. But now, he was just pissed off. He stretched his head, twisting it sideways with hidden frustration. He had never killed a human being, but the goodness of the earth was inherent in his actions. Thus, whatever he did was an example of that inherence. Moving forward, he would create life by establishing order. Here, he was most dignified and creative. Should the world fall to the ground, he would be its guiding light, shining upon the farthest horizon. He was also struggling a bit. He was beaten many times throughout the journey and verbally abused, interspaced with hope-giving gestures and interactions, breaking his will unto oblivion. As time passed, he began to smile inwardly because justification was necessary for a slaughter. The love inherent in slaughter was imminent, because if he could get rid of the evil within their souls, he would free them to Heaven. He loved the suffering, his frustration and anger becoming mixed with feelings of euphoria. The impulsiveness characteristic of euphoria contributed to his violent thoughts. His euphoria was a manifestation of a combination of various factors, making it a complex reaction. Many torturous, euphoric hours later, he stood as weakly as he could stand. But within that posture of weakness, Justification reigned supreme. He was the epitome of grace and beauty, and violence was just another way to express his love. He beat them to death. He crushed their spines and dislocated their bones, wishing upon them joy and beauty, because he was inevitably their loving father. He loved them unto death. His skills manifested as the hurricanes of love. Because of his mental instability, the magical contract didn't register as him attacking them, because he did it out of love. After his emotions stabilized, he pondered about this event. When a systematic approach lapsed and failed, it was usually not because agents (people) were completely rational. It was because they double-downed to instances reflecting irrational behavior with a combination of reasons such as emotions, duty, loyalty, beliefs, and morals. He was not playing a video game with consistent rational agents. He was in real life where people acted recklessly and did whatever the hell they wanted, and he couldn't control them. But he yearned to. Taking into account non-rational factors would fine-tune his systematic approach for the better, given that he himself was not an exclusively rational agent. That was why he was frustrated with people and why it was so hard to make an empire. People struggled with emotions such as jealousy, envy, and pride even, making it practically impossible for him to succeed without someone coming from the most unlikely place and tearing him down. He would rather annex people's hearts and make them his slaves if he wanted a rational game, with only his irrational aspects to struggle with. If it was him alone, it would be a walk in the park, but with others coming into play, it was like swallowing dirt on the ground to get one's nutrition—very ineffective and cumbersome. Later, when he returned to the cafe, he met with Michel, getting a laugh out of her when she recounted a tale of her falling in the middle of a quest coalition. He felt admiration when she added that she was able to help vanquish several hundred goblins with her traps. "How are you getting these coalition quests?" he added half-jokingly at the end of the conversation. "Am I hiding under a rock?" "Arthur, hey, how are you doing?" Michel said to a man walking up to them. The man saw Witchman, and they both gave the silent male nod of respect and acknowledgement. It was a far cry from what Witchman experienced under the adventurers he killed earlier. When he remembered that horrible event while sipping some coffee with a relaxed smile, he realized that his violent, rational, and lighthearted facets were beginning to blur together. He was becoming both full and well-rounded. He grinned. He was an example of the reason why supreme leaders rose to power. They were never monoliths, always multi-faceted. Arthur and Witchman hit it off, laughing together about trivial things, even if Arthur was not an adventurer and in fact a librarian. Witchman knew too many people like Arthur back on Earth, so no matter what happened, his Earthly experiences would make him a dynamic creature, morphing to eat up the souls of others, with their diverse stakes and situations. Since he had free time now that he didn't have a job, he followed Michel on her many meetings in various places. Should she be in need in space, he would sit or stand far away in any case. He met different kinds of people. He met a priest named "Johun", who prepared a table for him in the direction of the rainforest, annointed his head with oil, and poured into his cup until it overflowed. "Do you believe in God here?" "Yes, we believe in God here. Do you believe?" "Yes, but it depends on what you mean... There are different types... of... church if you know what I mean." "Oh, what sect do you belong to?" "Sect? Uh. No, I'm independent." "Really? So you don't pray?" "No, I do. I just don't do it as... you know... similar to how they do it in... the sect." "Okay. Don't backslide, okay? And if you have, repent and return to God." His tone was friendly and sounded open to disengaging, so Witchman didn't feel bothered. It was just an awkward discussion to have, given that he killed three human beings earlier. Witchman smiled in an easygoing, awkward manner. After Michel's refreshing meetings, he finally had alone time with her to ask, "Why are some people, like adventurers, broken in the head?" "Some adventurers live in areas where they starve, barely eating meat, so that makes them angry. Witchman understood that as malnutrition and starvation contributing to emotional volatility, associating this with the adventurer he killed earlier. He wanted to say that there was no way that malnutrition led to murder. People had to do the right thing whatever their circumstances, even if they were being tortured everyday for 70 years. It was their fault if they hurt people. But this was an underdeveloped view of reality. "Why don't people use their skills and spells to remove poverty then? If they have magical money, why don't they help the poor?" It was a child's question, but he had to ask it. He was effectively a child after all in this new world. Michel had a response: "You can help them, Matthew." Matthew looked at his notifications. 🌟 Congratulations on your triumphant solo elimination of a level-26 bandit! Your combat prowess secures you a rewarding 100+ XP! 🌟 2+ skill points! 🎉 🌟 Great job on that solo level-24 bandit takedown! Your combat expertise grants you a gratifying 100+ XP! 🌟 2+ skill points! 🎉 🌟 Fantastic work on defeating that solo level-27 bandit! Your combat finesse warrants you a delightful 100+ XP! 🌟 3+ skill points! 🎉 "It's up to you," she continued.Chapter 31 - Scaling the Heights: Witchman Comes Into His Own
Witchman knew what skill points were, so with an excited rat-a-tat on the table in front of him, he put his 7 new unused skill points into his first skill [Whirlwind Waltz]. He wasn't asking anyone for permission anymore. Whirlwind Waltz (Level 8) Cost: 1000 Mana Cooldown: 1 hour Cast Time: 0.5 Effect Radius: 350 (1.4 meters) Active: The user gracefully dances, channeling for 0.5 seconds, colors flashing around them. After the channel, they create a whirlwind of energy around them that lasts for 4 seconds. Enemies within the whirlwind are lifted off the ground, unable to move or attack for 2.375 seconds. After the whirlwind dissipates, affected enemies are slowed by 30% for 2 seconds. Duration: 4.875 seconds Immobilization Duration: 2.375 seconds Slow Duration: 2.875 seconds "Wait a minute..." Witchman's mouth was agape. "I have to put all my points into mana. No one told me this. Frick." It was a minor mistake, and he would fix it sooner or later. Name: Matthew Cruz Level: 44 Current experience: 218 Species: Human Age: 25 Skills: [Whirlwind Waltz], [Cattle Decapitation], [Solipsistic Slaughter] Spells: None / None Vitality: 15 Quests: [Bridge of Knowledge] Titles: [Goblin Slayer], [Skeleton Slayer], [Overlord's Gifted] Unused stat points: 46.2 He still didn't understand what [Vitality] was supposed to represent, and it didn't seem to increase along with his other stats. If the [System] could hide his skills from him—basically gatekeeping him from receiving the skills he deserved—then he might not answer him about [Vitality]. Attack Damage🪓: 75 Ability Power🔥: 27 Armor🛡️: 57 Magic Resistance🚫: 60 Health🗿: 906 Mana💧: 311 Mana regeneration💧 (per 10 minutes): 7 But he first checked the cost of mana and mana regeneration. Mana💧: 1.4 stat point (SP) Mana regeneration💧: 60 SP "Huh..." Michel didn't bother him since she was also writing some letters on her own, sending it to various people to keep in contact regarding business matters. Witchman noticed this and remembered his [System] and the [Forums]. After the [System] himself was unresponsive, he asked the only person he was in private direct messaging with, [Mark Reader], about using the [System]. [Witchman 💀💀💀: Hi, I kind of forgot how to use the private messaging. Can I contact someone who doesn't know about private messaging? I don't know how to make that [System] send a message to someone by name. Is it possible? Thanks in advance. I hope this message reaches you well.] He waited for a while, staring at Michel's clothes. [Mark Reader: I don't know.] He wondered whether it was fruitful for him to be delving into Michel's business. He wanted to help her with the [System]'s private direct messaging system, but it wasn't working. So he decided to leave on short notice, meeting a familiar woman, Tamer Languiosse, whose smirk put butterflies in his stomach. It was a polite species of butterfly. When they found some place to eat, Tamer was happy finally to get to talk to Matthew again, considering their previous fruitful undertakings together. She imagined herself birthing the sensuous marriage between her hands and the wishes she had in mind—to flourish and develop her standing and her future estate. With that said, she scooped an assortment of fruits into her mouth, remarking with admiration, "What a splendid food we have today!" They had an unmentioned casual meeting before, but it helped them gather their metaphorical boots and break that barrier between them, especially after the past series of quests. This was the iron string that kept their faces sponged in front of one another—a smile tying up the ribbons of their hearts in camaraderie. "I don't know if it's possible," he said, "but have you considered taking some time off? When we met last, you did mention that the adventurer life had been taking a toll on your health. Plus, you said you used to be a child bride. I wish you only good favor." Matthew adopted some of her vividly spread buttery language. She was surprised, however, that he would be so concerned as to address it right in front of her. He had seen her health and behavior: her mirth abounded in bed flowers. "Right, well, in order to pursue such interests, it would be advisable if we gathered our resources first, then we can take a hold of the center of goblin abode!" Tamer had a different facet to her when she wasn't busy attending to a bunch of noisy goblin children. But her remarks were largely bombastic, not really attending to anything of substance. It was a declaration. Although not one made under duress, it was one made by a woman as fickle as a deciduous tree. Alongside the buttery flavors of the food bracing for flight in a variety of directions within their sweet, voluminous mouths, in a crispy manner, her smile was clarified. To emphasize it further, it was similar to a flower pot of gold. She knew well to keep her appearance tight and clean, yet stylish and undeterred in her choices of wear. It was her duty almost to keep herself determined to choose creatively and fuse ideas into a statement. Of all the things she could be doing, she enjoyed her sweet time being herself wherever it mattered. As soon as Matthew had eaten enough, he asked, "So, I know that with everything that's happened, it wouldn't be enough for us to sit idly while the goblins are within our grasp." He wore a simple adventurer outfit, distinct from the purple and yellow attire Tamer had seen before. It made him look more in touch with people, but maybe he really was. Tamer prioritized the conversation, happening to have forgotten about checking at the guild taking off her goblins' clothes half the time. For context, she couldn't just pop them out of existence, and as tiring as it was, she opted to care of them personally. "What do you mean? Where are these particular goblins? Is there a special event I'm missing? Why the rush?" With the rising sun, Matthew's admiral-like face looked more defined, and his eyes were more clearly sharp and amorous like a sadistic fox. "There's been news of Tulips and Barkada Forces making rounds in the area, motivating the goblins to gather themselves just a little." "Just a little?" "It isn't that important, but we better police them before it's too late. We don't want them complaining of a stomach ache all of a sudden." "What do you mean?" "Oh, I meant that we don't have to waste Michel's traps. I'm pretty sure you know her." "Yeah, I do. You're right. I guess it's been a while since I've been active. Why didn't you talk to me since then?" "Because you didn't talk to me?" "Oh, well, then... Just keep in touch, okay... Actually, let's head to Guild now. I don't want to waste time. I'll just change my clothes, and we'll head off." Later, at the main adventerer guild, Tamer was surprised to see Matthew wearing a mask. It didn't look sophisticated, but it had that mysterious and ominous look. "Why the mask?" "Oh, I just didn't want to be seen. I was attacked by a group of bandits before, and I—" "Woah-woah-woah, bandits?" she yelped. "What? Is it that rare?" "Oh yeah it is. I mean it's only been how long for you, and you already got bandits." "Oh, yeah, about that. I've been here for more than three months already." "Really? I guess it's been a while since we last met." "Yeah..." he said, giving her an august smile. The hints of huskiness in his voice and those quippy expressions were a good match. Even with their complex dynamic, Tamer didn't dare oust him from his position as leader. Indeed, she would gladly stand next to him shoulder-to-shoulder, as long as she got a piece of the rewards. That was soluble enough for her. Matthew led her down to the river where most people would find themselves in a circle of terror. This place was called the "Fourth Ring," where an effect called the "Smog" lingered around the place, weakening adventurers. Matthew overviewed that they were here to represent a scouting, information-gathering, warding group; though, the warding here was practically impossible due to the ferocity presented within this monster hotspot. It was just a formality at this point. The issue was that Matthew didn't have [Whirlwind Waltz], but he was confident enough that [Solipsistic Slaughter] was strong enough. He also recognized Tamer's abilities as a tamer, especially viewing that she brought five glowing goblins this time. She had grown, even without his administrative input. He recognized that and only wished that she never caved in to self-disrespect, especially as one that formed allegiances with goblins. Quasi-legioned forces tore through the openings throughout the dungeon. These monsters made their down the rough terrain leading to Matthew and Tamer spirally. Matthew revealed himself as Witchman, casting his skills confidently and stabbing at the monsters one by one. Even without a coalition and his [Whirlwind Waltz], he was capable of standing on his two feet. He demanded Tamer to make herself useful when she froze, having been expecting Matthew to fight only when teamwork was the primary solution. But Matthew's priorities had changed, having increased his capacity for combat. This was where they reigned supreme—at uncontested objectives where they held a significant advantage over the enemy in terms of bringing them out of their folds. As soon as that happened, with the help of her goblins, it was easy for Tamer to use her holy water–filled barrels toward a congested enemy army, hitting the numbers individually and with equal distribution of damage and debuffs. Moreover, his use of [Solipsistic Slaughter] was indiscrimate, slicing those who came close enough in a crowd, turning them to piles of meat with the high area-of-effect damage. While Matthew corralled, Tamer guided him, treating him as a weapon, turning the direction and position of his onslaught by leading him according to her shot calls. They consistently focused on a singular flank instead of letting numerous prongs collapse on top of them. This was founded on her goblins as a speedy wall that she could raise as a weapon or draw back as a shield dynamically throughout the fight. At the end of the battle, the wave of monsters fell apart to their declaration of systematic destruction. They terrorized the area, turning it into a desolate place full of loot. As they picked up loot, an adventurer group entered, finding their solitary selves in a bit of a pickle. The loot was too many, and they were very heavy and large. With the help of the friendly, positive, supportive adventurers, they were able to bulk-transport via a convoy of vehicles toward the city. At the city, it was the truth that no one could come there alive without at least a pay check. That was why Matthew, being one brought into the city via an adventurer group, was compassionate to see people sitting on their haunches a large distance outside in front of the city gate. He didn't want to help them without obeying the rules of business, which he thought was to extract money wherever applicable. So he was sorry he wanted to help and helped them anyway. He showed the guards of the city gate that they were with him, paying the required fee per head and impressing Tamer on the way. Tamer was not impressed by him morally. She was impressed by him as a weird, strange person who did whatever he wanted. This was one of the many times Matthew's Earth knowledge, experience, and upbringing did good for him here in this world; albeit, it manifested in different forms. To Tamer, it was weirdness and an adamant personality that she liked. But to others, it might be more moral. It depended on the person. For one, Desmond Leroy, who was approaching them right now, enjoyed Matthew's high prowess in strategy—a gift from Earth—even if he did fail that one pivotal time. They smiled and gave the male nod at the sight of each other; even Tamer did. She didn't care for gender norms because in her mind, she had already proven herself to the males, being a female of authority and standing in her community. She did lead a party after all. It was not strange for those respected to be so amid their gender. In a society marked by an appreciation toward magic and the elegance thereof, it was not strange that philosophical questions—with regard to the purpose of magic, and, by extension, everything else such as fairness, rights, and justice—became a standing phenomenon. In other words, the same way a standing army accrued costs, so did the elements of magic mediate curiosity by the thinking mind. Furthermore, with time and with a desire to promote power, knowledge was inherent. Following the celebrated turnover of that study, the scholars gravitated toward the seats of change. As for this consolidation of power, patronage, diligence, and talent were emphasized in this pursuit, but overall, the idea that women were lower was not something that people certified. Tamer knew all about this, but this society was a forgery of limited opportunities, those blocked by monster interaction. Yet, she saw a world where the hunting of mammals could be stopped while retaining the divine blessings of God. She professed herself a saintess in this enterprise, knowing the fallabilities of that goal. Goblin chiefdom was looked down upon by those above and below in the human hierarchical continuity. The latter people, the wantonly educated common folk, were too in one under the administration of the adventurists. In the end, the secret practice of mammalism, or in a more bitter term, monsterism, could be viewed through her lens. This rested upon the hominid (human)-affiliated "Fight for Equality" in association with the goblin species. Speaking of which, she hid her goblins under a cloak while Desmond and Matthew discussed the earnings of the recent "New Adventurers Division" formalized during a meeting between the adventurer guilds. Desmond—who played a tangential role in a contingent developing adventurer equipment for several notable semi-permanent coalitions regionally assigned to various monster hotspots—heard of it and shared this information first with his party and then with Matthew. It was a complex story, but it was unspoken between Desmond and his "Know-whos", given that name because of their connection to Rodney and his information-swelling conspirators, that Matthew was a prodigy. Basically, Desmond was a key ally in Witchman's growth. Witchman knew that his and Tamer's feat at the Fourth Ring was a sign, considering that they hadn't claimed the lesser "tributaries", or quasi-hotspots, surrounding it. Simply, it looked targeted. Unbeknownst to him, Witchman was only beginning, and he had yet to caught up. His goal was to focus on small things, and this was why contacted Tamer. It was also because she was one of his first respondents, especially during a previous time when he was suffering. But people were not things he could control. Even if he wanted a slower pace, he was forced to inject bountiful clumps of information and responsibilities, causing metaphorical clots. The [System] was key to his assimulation into adventurer norms along with its ethical complexes. In the end, he took a deep breath. He got this.Chapter 32 - Echoes of Destiny: The Rise of Grimtusk
Back on Earth, a young woman, Emma, got up and tied her shoes, tearing apart some of the laces that had loose threads, as she walked up to convenience store. She didn't much of her day, but she knew that any time now, things would change. She just knew that she was special, even if this world had a tendency to bring people's hopes down. When she returned home, she prepared food for herself, using the noodles that she bought and combining it with corned beef. She had strange tastes, but that didn't stop her from enjoying herself. After finishing her food, she went to her computer and searched the web, finding several games that she wanted to play. She didn't play that much recently, but recently, she had found motivation to play older games that she used to play. After playing those games, she was here right now thinking of playing newer games from the 2020s. She found a web game that depicted a man living in a survival island. It was gamified, so it had all the fun iconography and promotional illustrations. As soon as she got the hang of it, she realized that she was enjoying herself. It wasn't like Battle of Wesnuth or Red Stane Online, but the main aspects and visuals of the game fit right into her current mood. Later, at the end of the day, she wanted to go back to sleep, but she visited a church friend at her job. "What's going on, man?" Emma said in an American accent. She was born and raised Filipino, but since she was raised by an English-speaking family who delved into computers and the Internet much earlier than most people, she often imitated the accents of the people she saw online and in wealthier neighborhoods and social hotspots. But she didn't do it for any reason. She just had a tendency to do it. "Yeah," said her church friend, Marianna, whose forehead was beginning to wrinkle. She had a clear Filipino accent. "Op!" Emma gestured toward the wrinkle with her lips, brows, and eyes. Marianna caught the message immediately and relaxed her face. "How are you na, friend?" "I've been talking to some of your friends earlier, and none of them are answering. What happened? Did they get lost while hiking na?" "No, no, they're okay. Thanks for asking." Marianna looked tense a little. But Emma thought it was okay for them to talk since it was late and her shift was over. They were actually sitting down outside, and there were no more customers fortunately. Marianna forgot Emma tended to come when she was working her shifts here. She transferred between two different work spaces periodically, but the good thing was that it wasn't too far. She also could stay in with her father's house for one and her mother's house for the other. They were separated, and she had both a step father and a step mother. It was complicated, but it worked for her. But Emma was unemployed, and so she had more time. They were childhood friends, so it wasn't difficult for them to have something to talk about. Emma was ever-curious though recently, while Marianna was bathing in a nostalgic mood. They were acquaintances of Matthew Cruz, or Witchman. But it had been years since they talked. Their lives were so different from the brutal place where Witchman now resided. They were visions of an earlier time. Returning to Witchman, he was arranging his things, and his mind was churning. His decision to attack the Fourth Ring was premeditated, but he didn't do it without risks. For one, he capitalized on the fact that the Fourth Ring was a shared space between adventurers, so any adventurer that had dealt damage to pre-existing monsters would help other adventurers coming later. He knew that the monsters were lower and that he could much easily burst them to bits. But even now, monsters did spawn continuously. His attacks reaped a bountiful harvest. 🌟 Congratulations on your triumphant solo elimination of 46 level-3 slimes! Your combat prowess secures you a rewarding 100+ XP! 🌟 🌟 Congratulations on your triumphant solo elimination of 26 level-4 slimes! Your combat prowess secures you a rewarding 100+ XP! 🌟 🌟 Congratulations on your triumphant solo elimination of 35 level-5 slimes! Your combat prowess secures you a rewarding 100+ XP! 🌟 Though, the calculation didn't make sense. Why was it limited to 100 experience? He stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. Logically, it was better to seek advice from Rodney, Desmond, Tamer, and, to some degree, Michel, but he missed Sophia, Deathbringer, and the rest of the former members of his first adventurer party, the one that had saved his life. He wanted to use the excuse of this 100 experience problem to talk to them. Visiting their house, he prepared himself. After talking to them for a while, he learned that the 100 experience limit was normal. Though, he wasn't satisfied with that answer. Was this the limit of experience and levels? Either way, he never wanted to depend on the [System] anyway because he had no way of determining if it would come back to bite him. He would rather trust the natural world, even if this natural world intersected with the [System] to a symbiotic degree, because most of his life experiences rested upon the natural world, especially since this new world was still very foreign to him. He had seen many kinds of species, people, magic, and all sorts of phenomena, but he had never described them a single time, because they were too much for his mind to bear. He just went with the flow, even when he only understood partially his own role in this society and in the adventurer community. Even now, he hadn't met anybody so bitter so as to impossible to work with. Instead, he always had people behind his back helping him. People in general had the tendency to be kind. It was only projection that made people seem hard to trust and like. Despite the torture, suffering, and the horrible acts he had committed against the goblin species, he still wanted to believe that he could atone for his sins. But he still didn't understand anything. He might be a part of a systematic eradication that he only had yet to comprehend. The camaraderie he experienced with villagers only made it challenging for him to break away from hunting goblins. It was getting too late for him to separate from his significantly beneficial multilateral partnership with the [System] and with being an adventurer. The more he relied on it, the more painful it was when he reflected on his past because things were going too fast for him to make sense of things. Moreover, the fact that he succeeded in the Fourth Ring only intensified this overwhelmingly fast pace. The success only masked the depth of his life, much of which he hadn't found time to address. So he went into hiding from the activities of the world. During that time, the goblins received a new upgrade. They invented a new magic spell. A goblin leader from the north, a goblin lord, rose from the depths of weakness, opening up hovels of life from which spawned goblins upon goblins. Terror cluthed all over with its sharp blades, sending a message that Grimtusk was birthed. And his presence would be much more felt than Mawkery for the next coming seasons. On her first quest since reuniting with Witchman, Sophia ran around, healing in the form of electric surges of light that beamed toward her targets. She kept an eye on them, as goblins spread from a nearby hole. "Scree!" their voices clamored like fairy dust, as the bloom of their new spell arrived with feathery wings. Incidentally, one of the goblins shot, an arrow laced with poison, striking toward the heart of Sophia. Upon impact, it broke her stride, enforcing a message to all healers to stop, as the rest of the healers of her group were struck in a similarly disabling manner. Anyway, the spell came in the form of flying goblins, tearing through the air like doves making their presence known. It was here that the adventurers fled and retreated, leaving their brethren in the midst of battle. Sophia yelped and screamed, as her form was discarded bunch by bunch, finger by finger. Her form became naught. She lost her life that day, as Marcher did. But at least she was given a few mentions in the book of life. Though, the [System] was always uncaring and callous, amid Matthew's perseverations with kind-heart. Matthew knew well that his time was over, so Witchman, his growing persona, took hold of the shifty wheel. When his time of hiding was over, he saw to it that he would visit the dead. He saw Sophia and several of her friends lying together, but it was too much for him to bear. He grieved for her passing, but his grief had been described in full already. If this was expressed more, he would be hurting the world by doing so. He couldn't leave the city, but he dared to help someone, trying Michel in particular. She said that it was only right that adventurers lost their lives. Matthew was naturally offended at that, but Michel corrected herself later, mentioning that it was natural, even if it was not right—it was something so systematic that it was like nature, similar to science so advanced that it was incomparable to magic before the eyes. Matthew countered by mentioning her desire for goblin blood, but Michel said that in a culture so familiar to goblin-hunting, it was not strange for her to thirst after their lifeblood by extension. Even here, Witchman was contested. He could only pray that his leadership took effect when it mattered most, even if that leadership was bound to tactics and strategy during quests. Moving on from this conversation, they went on a quest, pursuing the wind of change. The goblins would be waiting for them. Witchman gritted his teeth, understanding that might would make right the injustices Sophia had experienced. It was an illogical, hypocritical thought, but in the end, the results wouldn't change even if he felt angry with them. Ultimately, adventurers and goblins would engage in a rivalry. Witchman and Michel joined Tamer's waiting group at the guild before they headed via several routes, commuting via wagons and giant crocodiles. They were excited to see the thunderous heights the mountains reached, the reptile legs of their rides making marks across the rainforest floor. They remembered the sky and its beaming light toward them, and in that immersion, they remembered their own infallibility—that of the destiny of adventurers to manifest their wildness upon the world. Tamer and Michel were friends first before rivals, since they competed in a female ladder, marking the various ways women had it different, even in small ways like a ranking. They worked out being on the same journey easily, as many adventurers had to. Witchman prolonged the journey because he wanted to explore and take detours, being one for the organic whispers of this new realm. He saw several goblins taking aim at them, and he was quick toward casting [Whirlwind Waltz] as he got close, afraid of demonstrating his other skills just yet due to their long cooldowns. As soon as the goblins were damaged once, they spread the wings hidden on their backs and flew, shooting at Witchman and the rest of his group. Witchman forwent casting [Whirlwind Whirl] when he saw that the goblins were not all within the range of the skill. He could see its range via a holographic sphere around him. Witchman's group took heavy damage, disassembling, as the goblins punished their lack of preparedness to them and their ambush. They and their driver retreated, leaving behind the giant crocodile. The goblins zoned them away in order to capture the crocodile. As soon as they left, Witchman's group discussed ways they could return. Their red card was not with them, and it wouldn't have made a difference much since the adventurer guild was too far away. They returned home after a long, torturous journey. Witchman was saddened that he was put at such an awkward angle that he couldn't perform as well as he did at the Fourth Ring. But being on a journey broke his stride compared to having prepared adequately in a generally familiar place. In the city, they went to a bakery and bought some quick food to fill their hungry stomachs, passing through large crowds of people. Witchman saw Desmond, but it wasn't the time to contact him again. They were both still in the middle of something. Michel, Tamer, and Witchman parted ways, and the driver who had lost his giant crocodile was compensated with some money from Witchman and Tamer. Witchman left to check his current resources and items after he returned to the cottage, noting down several things from his journey. He sighted only one village in the journey, and it was relatively small. However, he did find several different forests, plains, and a mountain range. It was not that far, but his understanding of the place became a little more concrete. He also recalled the information he gathered from listening to Michel, Tamer, and the driver. They mentioned various events: the coincidence between a rise in monster activity in the overall region with the newfound strength of the goblins, the King's decision to make coffee a luxury good, and the removal of the second adventurer guild where Witchman made his name "Witchman." Witchman had been gone for a while, so the journey was long enough for them to explain everything to him and about what people were saying. Naturally, people were mostly negative toward the coffee tax increase, but no one from the main district of the city where the main adventurer guild was cared about the removal of the second adventurer guild. It wasn't as if Witchman gained anything from it either. He only got shanked by a group of bandits there. As for why the goblins became stronger, people said that it was because of magic laboratories going wrong. So there was an increase in concern regarding them. Research was geared toward finding new solutions for adventurers, so if anything went wrong, people blamed it on them for doing too much or not doing enough. There was this one time where they found a way to make potions better, but it came at the cost of permanently weakening heal magic whenever it was drank. But they also were the reason adventurers could now use the red card without getting sick. It was a mixed bag. In the end, Witchman's mood improved as well thanks to the journey, marking the start of a new week since he holed himself up for a week. He focused his efforts on listening to the [System]'s regularly supplied quests, since he had been mostly ignoring them because they weren't relevant to his concerns and that of his friends and associates. He found one relevant quest. Quest Name: Investigating the Goblin Menace Quest Description: Rumors have been spreading about a new goblin threat led by a powerful leader known as Grimtusk. Reports suggest that these goblins have developed advanced magic spells, making them more dangerous than ever before. Your task is to investigate the source of this goblin resurgence, gather intelligence on their capabilities, and devise a strategy to counter their threat. Be cautious, as encountering Grimtusk and his minions will pose a significant challenge. Your bravery and tactical skills will be crucial in safeguarding the region from this growing menace. Objective 1: Investigate reports of increased goblin activity in the region. Objective 2: Gather intelligence on the goblins' new magic spells and their leader, Grimtusk. Objective 3: Develop a strategy to confront and neutralize the goblin threat. Rewards: Experience points based on successful completion of objectives. Access to valuable information and resources related to goblin magic. Recognition and gratitude from the local authorities for your efforts in protecting the region. Potential discovery of rare loot or artifacts hidden by the goblins.Chapter 33 - Journey to the Unknown: Exploring Life Beyond the Battleground
Before accepting the quest to investigate Grimtusk, Witchman visited several different work places to see how life breathed around there, being one for the masses. He hadn't expected to see numerous people dressed in various clothes in certain spots, having shied away from getting too involved with the affairs of the cityfolk. Their concerns and their variegated trends were elusively wide and dynamic, so he never had any connection to the commonfolk. But he did wonder if whether learning about how they lived would impact his ability to lead as an adventurer, considering that the new adventurers all recently came from civil life. This was why he hadn't really gotten involved with the "New Adventurers Division" that the guild had cooked up in order to make it efficient for newbies to receive tasks and delegate it to their fellows. Either way, the influx of adventurers had to be tamed, so if he didn't participate in any way, that would help out a lot. So he could start by visiting the commonfolk once again. Traveling through the streets like a noble would was only a peek into their actual lives. If he wanted a more in-depth understanding of them, he would need to live and breathe in the same rooms. This was why he entered the work places, asking his fellow senior adventurers if they had anything to do with a civil worker. These adventurers half-joked that he sounded as if he was about to grab someone off the street to give them a day job or contract them for an upcoming land development project, considering Witchman's history as a quest event mobilizer. Though, Witchman argued that it was a stretch to imagine himself being an industry leader, in view of the minor role event initiators played in the actual organizational process, but he thanked them, concluding that it was a nice gesture anyway. As soon as he came into contact with a worker, particularly a tanner, he asked them regarding their day-to-day affairs, emphasizing the cultural aspects of his day. When he heard that in his field, people were beginning to forget traditional tanning techniques and opting for newer, more streamlined techniques, he asked them what his thoughts about that were. The tanner said he was disgruntled, having been deprived of his specialty, now that newer generations of tanners were denouncing older techniques as quaint and generic. He wished people could recognize that these techniques didn't have to be replaced. They could be upgraded with enough magical intention, but people didn't want to spend their levels and skills with them, fearing that they would only be slowing their progress, when in reality, these older techniques had a much more bigger ecosystem of passed-down knowledge about how to upgrade these techniques via magic. He didn't speak dismissively against the newer techniques. He just said that older languages of tanning had lasted so long for a reason, but the decline in their usage was leading to them becoming deprecated, significantly impeding further development. He didn't want to mention the cultural aspects of these older techniques, because it was a done-and-tried talking point already. It was a common concern, one that Witchman didn't find particularly enlightening. But in light of this new context, he found himself in a state mulling over his existence here in contrast to that of Earth. Moreover, he wondered if there were older techniques and ecosystems in magic similar to tanning and if certain adventurers utilized older techniques, because he didn't know yet the difference between older and newer ones. Shifting to his overall understanding of magic, it was limited to the skills and the information the [System] gave him. He hadn't met anyone particularly interested in informing beyond that, but he did wonder if Rodney, his information team, and the skill practitioner knew anything. After visiting them, he discovered that they didn't know anything. If that information was exclusive to those of a higher rank, he might understand, but the fact that they were clueless to the inner workings of the [System] made him realize that the city he was in was a very low-level, minor, and small place then relative to the possibilities of the [System]. He wanted to set the rules of the playing field, finding the isolated skills and his lack of understanding the broader spectrum that made up the weakest to the strongest. He wasn't part of a sect to give him a list of skills he needed to learn from "Grade Weakest" to "Grade Strongest," and even if he was part of a sect that did so, would they tell him everything? The fact that he likely had to do a combination of actions in order to get certain skills made the realm of magic that much more esoteric. He was powerful, but he wasn't knowledgeable. He had good skills, but that didn't necessarily mean he understand what he was doing. He was like a noble exploiting a people whose lives he didn't really comprehend. He was like a king who could never appreciate his wealth because he didn't grow up from the lowliest of low to the higher of high with a natural progression. He didn't get the satisfaction of success, which came from that seasoned wealth of experience through progression. He was stuck in limbo, wondering whether his skills were strong or not. But they did make him more capable than the common man back on Earth, so that was his perspective. In the end, it was already 3 months and 1 week into this world, and nothing about this world made any sense to him still. He felt like a fraud playing a perfomance still. It was like being a child going to many places and many events and many things that he didn't understand, only obeying and believing everything, with a strong but underutilized and undercommunicated cognition. He was a 25-year-old adult reduced to an 11-year-old. He remembered when he first went to camp as an 11-year-old boy. He was smart enough to think many things and to ask many important questions, pushing away the discomfort of encountering negativity and delving deep into connections with kind people, but he was lacking in social skills, communication skills, and confidence. Although he was unevenly skilled, he could respond well and sing on stage, captivating others even as a child. He could do so much, yet he could do so little. Now, he was like that boy, but he was an adult. So he could act like an adult, even if he had an inner child. Even then, he felt as vulnerable as he had been as an 11-year-old. Time only made things better for him back on Earth, but today, he was a castrated, dewinged, naked angel sitting unevenly against the rocks by a wide, echoing river running along a green mountain. He stood up, granted that he was a human being again capable of what the greats could achieve. He saw a bright hill farther than any horizon could reach. He felt himself on top of that hill and prepared himself with an illustrious smile. He disappeared, never to be seen again. He decided to move to a different city, feeling that it would be healthy for him to break away from the stresses and constant burnout of urban living and working as a top-notch adventurer for their playing field, as in for his level and duration of work. He compared this to an active soldier in an active war at this point. Though, he admitted that he was exaggerating: he didn't want to jinx himself into getting into an actual thirty-year war. He hadn't really taken the time to appreciate and savor the new world, always on the heat of battle. Even the most enjoyable moments were outweighed by the beating burnout. Ultimately, he wanted to live slower instead of living chaotically and so quickly as though he was running everything through a summary report in opposition to being in the poetic, observational, and intimate moment. He had numerous, meaningful complaints about his first city and how much potential was lost in the process, but he let go. He was not the late Sophia's slave any longer. To honor her memory, he would explain. Sophia did save him, but this made it difficult for him to leave even if he was getting burned out a lot and struggling mentlally. To sum in a morbid way, her passing freed him. He was not necessarily mad at Sophia. It was just that her saving him made it hard for him not to want to pay that debt back, so he stayed even if it was already too difficult for him. He kept on, and indeed, he might have been achieving success. But he was already on the verge of losing it, having made many impulsive decisions already. Soon, at the entry of the second week of the third month, an assemblage of adventurers entered the city of Power, their expressions and demeanors steel like the symbol of two burning hammers angled diagonally across each other, forming an X. An adventurer sighted Witchman. Witchman wore a large cloak covering his head, accompanied by two others. These two wanted to help him get to the city at least. It made him look less cool, but it was raining season already. The droplets formed puddles, and it got muddy, reminding Witchman of his first time in this world again. He couldn't stop recalling that time. It was like still having dreams of a long-standing crush 5 years later. The hills were very wet, and the fog was clear. This was a mountainous area. The city welcomed people, showing stalls already at the entrance, covered by an overhang from the top of the walls and gate. These stalls looked more like bunkers with how compact and closed they looked with only a small opening for the both the rushing and patient customers pausing in the middle of the journeys. Several statues loomed above, reflecting the want for symbolism and status even on a mountain. The quiet moments in the mountain were served alongside plates full of fried food, hot soup drinks, and hints of wood in the flavoring due to the wooden bowls used. The nightly shirts men wore were dark violent in color; reflecting their abiding by the street laws of the city, which prioritized maintaining a color theme amid complaints of poverty and other more important concerns. All in all, along with the comforts of this modern life, magic did invite more creative minds that tended toward aesthetic and culture-building to the administration, at least in this instance. Soon enough, precious spilled droplets of the ground were consumed magically, being converted to mana for the workers. This was a feature of sustainability supported by an agency within the city administration, one that culturally and economically tied this polity to other sustainability-directed cities. Overall, there existed a network of polities that were all connected via initiatives represented by various individual sustainability installations. Returning to the present, Witchman viewed how different people interacted with each other, finding their gestures foreign and intriguing. One would put his hand on his forehead and make an L sign. Another would make a C with his right hand and make a biting motion with it. These were all gestures common in daily conversation, but here, it felt inherent to this city. The voices and accents were different as well; though, he could only describe it as French without the pronounced nasality. Witchman came across a large guild that offered civilian jobs. The administration of this city-state had these things called guilds, distinct from adventurer guilds, and they had an open guild in the hotspot of the city at the main road near the main gate where travelers come through. These guilds efficiently brought news, became the concierge or place of meeting for bulk trades between different leaders, and also gave people civilian tasks. It was so streamlined that it was so effective at integrating travelers and migrants into the city with the guild being right in the same path as the main road connected to the main gate where travelers influx through. It immediately set up travelers with a very well-rounded guild to help bring them into the fold and get them working for the city immediately. It wasso streamlined not just infrastructurally for the citizens, but also for migrant integration into the workforce. It was very notable when viewed from Witchman's perspective, who encountered an ecosystem of support marked by improvisation back in the first city. It was so streamlined because they didn't have to worry about migrants, seeing them as fresh workers out of the oven. As for the constitutional rationale upon which the migrants were declared a non-issue, one of the city's key elements was a ubiquitous spell that affected new entrants with a protective and soothing effect until they left the city bounds. This was a buff through and through, because impulsiveness, when viewed as a psychological precursor and symptom—as distinguished even in the [System]'s words—was a classified debuff. Basically, the city was a "migrant city," that which integrated migrants as a part of its constitution and purpose. But migrants were only one element of a broader streamlined system with regard to employment distribution. As mentioned earlier, the city was on a mountain. But to add to that, they captured a lot of the migrants coming from a particular region like a wet catching fish. They served as a fishing net to stream funds toward the rest of the country, initially purposed as a money machine instead of a city with its own culture. Fortunately, nowadays, it retained very little of that first version of its identity. Witchman had yet to learn of all of this, being a particular indiviudal among a flock of travelers. They were here to rest and eat, but less than 1 percent of them would join the guild permanently. This was still a large amount, as the active travelers in this area numbered one thousand everyday. However, 99% of travelers did join the guild for at least a week. This was where the economy really shone. As soon as he joined the guild, he already knew that this place was going to be much more smaller compared to his last city, considering how fast the pace was. Everyone was also younger or around his age here too, mostly people coming from the direction of the region of his last city. As for the reason of this, it had a cone effect when it comes to its reach, good for migrants coming from this region and direction, but bad for people coming from its own broader region because it was closer to a certain border and geographically limited. Furthermore, he noticed lots of different magic being used in day to day life to help with tasks, specifically newer magic touted by trends as being superior and innovative. It was easy to find lots of useless trend noise, but when certain magic really struck, it immediately impacted the city. The pace was even faster here, but for different reasons. He just wanted to find a place to stay that wasn't too crazy, but traveling was dangerous and very challenging on the spirit. He needed this place to recover after he got sick from the rain. The two people accompanying him explained that it was cheap to stay here; though, the residential buildings were divided into residences more akin to cage homes. This was the cost of staying in a business district. Any exclusive residences were too expensive. Witchman said that he used to make plenty of money, but he abandoned it after getting burned out with all the responsibilities of adventurer life. It didn't seem that much when summarizing it in a report, but he lost his life there more than metaphorically. He was not okay. He was only okay when he left the city. He decided that that time was the peak and left. He had to leave on a high, or else he would do something that would shatter all his connections and power in a heartbeat. The two people with him were a friend of the late Marcher and one of the former members of Desmond Leroy's party. He met them several times and small-talked with them during gatherings, having overheard that they were planning to travel here. So he was the one who initiated their journey party. In the end, he was here to relax and set the tone. He changed the tone of his life once, and he would do it again if push came to shove. No one would stop what he was going to do next.Chapter 34 - You Will Not Stop Me!
Witchman's first goal in the new city was to sit down and discuss everyday, either before or after work, depending on the work schedule, maybe even during work if they found the same task. Their first task at the new guild was to use their magic to attack monsters that spawned inside of a large container. All they had to do was attack the monsters with a spear from an opening below and around the bottom of the container, where the monsters had no way of attacking them. They did this everyday for 3 months, collecting experience and loot. They kept the experience, but they delivered the items to a nearby crate after grabbing the items either by hand if it was close or with a grabber tool, a rake, or rod with a dustpan-looking end. It wasn't consistent what tool they used, and it didn't matter to them, except for a few rare pivotal, dangerous instances. During those three months of adjusting, they were given an opportunity to do other jobs, given that they had proven themselves capable. But they decided to stick to the job. At the end of those three months, Witchman decided to leave since he had saved up enough money to be satisfied, considering that he didn't want to be an adventurer anymore. But he still wanted to help out as an adventurer would, just not officially under that kind of pressure. At the next city, he and his two companions were surprised to encounter Thorne, Lumi, and Elara—a happy surprise nonetheless. As soon as they caught up, Thorne's group dragged Witchman's group to a mountain cave where adventurers were busy preparing for a siege underground where hundreds upon hundreds of dungeons and thousands of structures extended over a large expanse of caverns, chambers, passages forming cave systems—a labyrinthine opportunity. But Witchman knew that even with this context in mind, he would only tend to the small tasks distributed and offered candidly to migrant workers, cottagers, and day laborers willing to make a living even within the periphery of the campaign. War was profitable, and it trickled down, providing the nearby communities with hundreds of new job opportunities. Witchman was given the role of a warder's assistant, helping out with menial concerns that arose due to the warder's unfamiliarity and lack of experience with the surrounding area. So he was made to collect information on the environment that would usually slip past the focus of the warders, their commitment entrenched in generalized combat. Overall, Witchman was part of a network designed to address logistical challenges, gather intelligence, and provide personalized communication channels; in addition to handling nuances introduced by their unique environment and circumstances—which lay peripheral to their combat and combat-adjacent priorities but nonetheless remained essential to the operation—and attending to disruptions that occurred regularly on the various pathways of the operation. Thanks to his past experience as a warder and an event initiator, he was effective in bridging the gap between the warding profession and his fellow personnel. Additionally, Witchman understood all of this, having been part of many circumstances and instances similar to these. With time, he began advancing through the ranks by asking tactfully for more responsibilities due to his diligence, patronage via Thorne, Lumi, and Elara, and his talent in administration. Even if he didn't want to be a combatant, he effectively became an unelected officer carrying a deep effect when it came to the outcome of the war and larger campaign. Only a year later, Witchman sat down, donning a purple tunic indicating his status and and a yellow surcoat. His eyes passed from one person to the next, taking in the view of the throne. He wasn't here to argue about the problems of warfare or the atrocities executed against goblins. He was only here to bathe in the feeling of righteousness this seat afforded him. It didn't matter though. His time was over. He stood up and left, heading to his estate to take a bath. There, he rested his eyes and his spirit, imagining himself back there again a year and three months back. If his past self saw him now, he would be happy, but he wasn't entirely content. It was his growing frustration that led him to power and led him to high places. It was what brought him to grace and into beauty. He was the epitome of it all, tearing through the flesh of his enemies and castrating them all the way to the bone. He shone himself, reveling in the momentary self-praises in his head. Even after everything, he was bottomless, and he was craving like a goblin eating human flesh. Returning to the present, around a year and a half ago, where the future was not fixed and anything could happen, he watched his two companions and their expressions, as they looked at their clothes and things. This was around the time they first entered the second city. "What did you guys plan on doing?"" he said. "Washing up things?" He didn't know what was going to happen to him, but he knew that he had to find a way to get things together. He was already feeling a little down after leaving his friends back at his first city, which was known in this new city as "Emerald Haven" due to how green it looked from a bird's eye view. If he could go back, then maybe things would be better, but his two companions, Elena and Liam, convinced him again and again to keep on keeping on. Shifting to the outside, the streets lit up explosively with a million lights by the time that it was evening, directing his attention to the quiet voices of the children outside. Anything could happen, but Witchman was in the here and now. He decided to take on a new name when he signed up at the guild, choosing the rough, self-deprecating name "Scrappy." He cleared out his head. Two groups of children saw him standing outside an inn, his posture that of a lost man looking for shelter. They went to him, being a group of skilled mages on their own turf, and asked if he was okay. Scrappy, covering his face, shook his head, saying that he recently lost his friends. He didn't have anyone else to talk to, so why not a group of unsuspecting children with much to learn? The children asked if he wanted a place to stay. Scrappy nodded, although his eyes betrayed his allegiance to the inn. The children nodded to each other and agreed that it was a good idea to help him find a place to stay, even if it wasn't at an inn. When Scrappy, who reluctantly accepted the food he was given, arrived at the place the children had in mind for him, he was distraught to see a group of men eating at a table. "What is this? A homeless shelter?" He looked around, finding the women and children eating at a corner on a much more elegant table than the men's. He became relieved in light of the casual mood. "This feels like a good place to be in," he said, his voice weak yet geared toward admiration. "Why did you guys allow me to come here?" The children said that they were tasked with getting "the lost people" out of the streets. Scrappy wondered if what their motives were and asked indirectly about it. The children explained that it was part of the city's initiatives to separate the population into distinct groups to make it easier to organize. So shelters provided one effective incentive for people to cooperate. Though, the efforts were much more comprehensive than that. Basically, people were being separated for two reasons. One, magic was hard to manage and control. Two, the ubiquitous magic that protected and calmed the citizens was not perfectly reliable and stable as a solution. As a consequence, sometimes, the bottled-up emotions of people would erupt instead of being soothed, leading to magical altercations that resulted in injury or death. As for the primary causes of these altercations, the nature of the city's infrastructure made it challenging for people to feel comfortable. This was why the ubiquitous magic was essential to the city's functioning, because the infrastructure-catalyzed stress led to potentially lethal fights. Overall, facilitating the separation of people who were already willing to forge their own little communities with friends, families, and other people from the same culture and language was their main goal. Shifting to the notability of this explanation, thanks to magic-assisted education, these children were given the opportunity to receive edification to this extent. Moreover, the common sight of groups of children walking the streets at night could be interpreted culturally to suggest a more sophisticated society. Scrappy was happy to find people on the same turf as he was in terms of a more formally educated culture, since most of his life had been dedicated to that area of interest. Definitely, it was challenging to live in a more physical way and rely on physical-based systems that disputed the use of strategy and more economical streams of thought and diverted them toward the creatives. This was one of his critiques of Emerald Haven's priorities. Though, he might be wrong regarding this, given the arduous circumstances upon which his cognition had been contingent. He relinquished his thought processes for a moment and looked at the children, thanking them with a smile. "It's cool, you know..." He waited for them to show inclined interest. "Everything you're doing here..." He switched up the tone. "If it's not too much to ask, may I get your... name? I'm not really that... worried... about... the things that are happening..." He saw the shy expressions of the other people inside the shelter. "I mean, let... me know... if you guys are looking for someone... anyone—you know—that can be do something possibly...?" He was especially roundabout himself. The children casually affirmed what he said, adding that others like them would be patrolling around the area at night, even if it was raining. And these other enlished personnel within their organization shared information with them, so they would know about his interest in joining. Scrappy expressed a smile first before bowing, not sure how to respond when the people in the shelter gave him an applause. It was a strange response, so he brushed it off for now as a trinket of their culture. Later, he returned to the inn, remeeting his two original companions. "Elena, what happened with the 'compartmenters'? Liam, what's the case with the soldiers at the north border? Did they really do it?" He was interested in getting to know what happened, given that he heard them speaking about it a while ago. Elena and Liam knew more about this city more than he did, so they enticed him with hints of an expanding world. With a smile, Elena slowly began taking off her mask, putting it down and embracing Liam. They were friends, but they were also "siblings" in a pact, having gone through the same trial by fire and emerged with a newfound sense of purpose. They used to be part of a secret society that offered ways to regenerate limbs through magic, and they were able to do so, having lost their memories as a result. This was why even now, they were intelligent, because their mind was as fresh as a child and as cognitively mature as an adult in a magically strong manner, making it so that they learned things like a sponge. This made them effective companions during village visitations with their late friend Marcher. And now, they were extending that same skill set to Scrappy, who was previously a friend of Marcher as well. In the end, Scrappy, Liam, and Elena were simply here to visit, but they each held grandiose plans in store. Their night was quiet, leaving only the sounds of mice roaming through the streets, cats chasing them, and dogs marking their territory. It was an urban animal hotspot. Elena and LIam were curious mouth-breathers who enjoyed a good pet, so they adopted one out of the street and placed them in a cage in the same room as Scrappy. Scrappy was fine with that, considering his new ties and bond to the nearby shelter. If he wanted to elevate his position further, he had to start with something as grounded as the shelter. This was why, even while Elena and Liam were pursuing diverse interest, including that of work in the guild, he was hunting down each individual within the shelter since they didn't stay there all the time and would go out in the morning. It was only in the night when they slept there on the floor. It was a humble abode for lost boys and girls. On one occasion, he greeted a man wearing a saddleback tunic, his smile like that of a man receiving sexual pleasure. It was only when Scrappy saw the way he walked that he realized that the man was emphatically humorous, having been birthed from a cross between a theatre jester and a man inhaling copious amounts of energy-boosting stimulants. He even would ran around as if he was tearing through the air, seeking out food from various day jobs. In the end, to the dismay of some, to the delight of many—along with his more comprehensive traits—he embodied the role of a high-functioning weirdo. This was only one occasion. He met several other people, and he met the same men on different occasions, seeing them in different angles and in their various self-representations. It was like observing dogs act differently when in different quarters of the house. Surprising! Incredulous! Terrifying! Manifesting! He wanted to take in, like money to a banker, the people and the whims they sought. If he could grab the lace that set them free, he would manipulate them to his own ends, and that wasn't free. It took effort and commitment, but he was also an ethical actor. So he would have to contend with his own spirit first. Amen. He now had the justification to make light out of any man he would see. But he was only joking. Maybe, he finally had a place, one where the shelter provided a sense that he could engage in the most trivial things and still find a sense of purpose and camaraderie. He enjoyed the thought of putting himself in their shoes, knowing that whatever their struggles were, it was inevitable that he would share them in part, being their friends—souls on the same grassy field. He realized one pursuit—that of baring the shelter's individuals. He memorized them by name—listing 15 individuals among the men, 20 individuals among the women, and 13 individuals among the children, which varied by boy and girl. He thought they were hard to forget—this was logical estimate. He couldn't get rid of their influence on his heart and mental wellbeing, and any analysis turned out to be a gesture of his own humanity. He loved them for who they were, not for their benefit toward him, but for the sense that they were all gathered here in a shared grace. He stopped himself tentatively, wishing that maybe he was wrong about everything. Based on probability, he could turn himself inside and out into something that betrayed his previous ideas propagandized by adventuring toward the world. He had become free from all of that, free from bias, free from control. But he was here, the leaves tickling his person. Even here, he was attended by forces outside of his control, those willing to direct his behavior. He didn't have anything left really to oppose. It was all a matter of subjective perspective. If he wanted to fight, he would destroy. If he wanted to create, he would bring life through empathy and love. Maybe, that was a false dillema. Maybe, he could run away and avoid the complexity of his problems. In here, he was safe. Was that not enough? To be happy, to be secure, and to be readied for a higher purpose beyond himself? He didn't have anything against the world. He only had something against the feeling of pain inside him. Maybe, he was depressed, struggling against thoughts that convinced him he was wrong in the realm of inherence. He was stupid in the realm of nature. He was broken in the realm of infinity. He didn't have anything left to say. He was tired of pretending to be someone, but did he know what else guided him beyond his own thoughts? No. "Everything around him" was a sufficient enough description, but it never detailed the factors and the everything. He was lost in his own way, tied down, freed to the point of imprisonment. He didn't know what he was saying anymore. He smiled because that was all that made sense. His goals and purpose here and his reason for leaving were all arbitrary according to himself. He set the tone and the things that happened next, and then everything fell apart anyway. In the shambles and the rubble, he arose a second time, a third, and a fourth up to infinity. He would become the epitome of grace. He would become the epitome of beauty. He was the Great I Am. He stared at the people around him and silently whispered into the air, leaving a message that generations would follow. The next thing he would do next was go to the adventurer guild and defeat his purpose for being here. If things made sense, he would dismantle them like the dogs they were! Because nothing ever made sense. If it did, something was wrong. His life had been rinse-and-repeat torture! Was he just a man waiting to die before the looming shadow of death? He cried: "Abba. Please save me. I am just a frail man!" But he was not! He denied. He was a vengeful soul reaping the joys of his beloved and turning their memories into a fiery flame gushing out in an ever-consuming fire. He didn't have a soul yet. Maybe... He did now. He smirked, readying himself for physical massacring.Chapter 35 - The Prodigal Adventurer Returns
For more than three months, Scrappy was thrust into the adventuring pattern, living in camaraderie with adventurers, and so he was here now, having left his first city in this new world. As mentioned before, he came from Earth and was transported to this fantasy world with a traumatic start of being tortured by goblins and then saved and brought into the first city by adventurers. As for the reason he left, he wanted to be free from the burnout and stress and ethical split regarding the killing of alive goblins. Moreover, he joined the adventurers and became an adventurer himself, tied by his obligation toward Sophia, the healer who healed him and saved his life first and foremost. When she died, he finally gave himself the license to leave, even after going on so many adventurers and quests, meeting many people and developing connections with them, and living an all-around successful life in his adventurer career. To further surprise and development, after staying here at the new city, he decided again to return to the adventuring ways, even after experiencing new joy with the shelter people and being almost immediately supported by state actors. This betrayed his desire for a sense of control, while also affirming it. It showed that he did change, but now, he was claiming the adventurer identity as his. To explain his positive reasons for returning, it gave him an unprecedented deep sense of purpose, fulfillment, belonging, and validation, motivations reinforced time and time again against by time prolonged there. Also, he had unresolved issues with it. Besides, externally, people all around him still—whether they were kind, nice, bad, or evil—gave him a sense that he had to purchase time, money, and skill with effort rapidly. And the only way to do that in his mind was to seize them, and adventuring represented that definitive pathway to victory. He had made it clear that nothing ever made sense, but this. This truly made sense. He was calm, knowing his bounds. Every step was measured, and his footsteps would always exhibit that sense of longing. If not for the fact that he was doing it on purpose to give people a sense that he had a destination in mind all the time every time he walked, it would have just been an emotion. But all in all, he was completely in self-control, determining his path to victory. But time was a bitter female dog, always mocking his actions and his attitude, telling him nothing made sense. But he would cast the lot. He would turn the tides. He would remove whatever barrier was in his way. He was not naught. He was something. "Damn it!" he said, his voice whispered, enough that no one would ever be able to tell that he was a controlling freak. He grabbed the way of the world, and he twisted it with his own hands. And the best way to do that was by using one of this world's greatest tools—the prodigal son of adventure, restored to realization that this was remarkable. He had been given God's gifts of love, authority, and pleasure. He was sure that he had been given a hand in the things of life and death. It was only now that he finally reached justification and a perfect rationale behind his actions. He slashed the goblin devil. He rendered the goblins formless, turning their flesh askew. Leveling up only symbolized his retreat to glory—a restful retreat, a savagely pleasant glade, a nicely put, prancing lot where his mind was at ease. He cut down the goblin enforcer of control and authority, slashing his angelic outline and reverbrating into his soul. He caused it to dissipate. He walked aside. Another goblin moved, the shadowy figure adjusting its posture, readying to fight. It wanted to see the farthest light slashed in half, because Scrappy was that light, his armor reflecting the shining, blue flowers of the cave deeper within. A goblin fell to the hurt, his face disfigured and caused to become astray in its details. It knew no more wealth and growth, only deterioration. A sword sank to the bottom of the sea that made up the goblin's organs and being. The man Scrappy was too elated to hate. He was just functional and purposeful in his actions. The night showed no mercy to monsters, especially when Scrappy was divinely inspired. Even if it was not actual divinity, the god-like being [System] inspired him. With a squealing blade, the goblin expressed itself, his sword then bouncing off. But it was a "he," and he was an "it." It didn't matter. His sword fell to the side, revealing his awkward smile. His smile was ripped apart. That smile was a mockery of functionality. Scrappy needed more reclamation. To that end, he slashed repeatedly on a musical count. The timing was off, and the pitch was the sword twanging all over the place. In the end, it represented his rhythm of warfare, that which cast aside all unnecessary elements—emotion, faces of disgust, puking upon the earth. A sense that everything was lost lay in that ravenous hunt. The showers of praise upon his being became apparent. Great job on defeating that solo goblin! Your expertise nets you a solid 7+ XP! 🎉 Well done on taking down that armored goblin! Your victory earns you a hefty 42+ XP! 🎉 He lacerated a single armored goblin three times consecutively, breaking its restarting momentum the same number of times. It was a familiar technique, which worked into his rhythm instinctively. It was the same pace and the same beat here, but it wasn't the same person. Slashing right and left, up and down, the movements were solid, rock-heavily banging the temples to the off position, the cracks simulating a web. A combo-driven expanse of attacks thrust from his being, even when his sword looked uninvolved. The goblins pitiably drifted apart, reacting to the hits and adjusting their feet. The grabbing of the ground by the toes immediately repelled any sense of imbalance and got them working together again. This was their finale. He was unstoppable. The goblins ran, charging with all their might. The sword drifted, shuffling, sounding the swift winds of fjords, breaking the fast for blood. Goblins spun, running around; their bodies flew in the air; the soul exploded; their eyes lolled around, their imaginations still; and their bodies expired. The master of swords was driven not by hate, but by the need to cast aside any other thought except redemption. To repeat, he had finally redeemed himself, but he was wrong about being a master. He was just an amateur; it was only here that he appeared to be one of the greatest, not because of his sword skills, but because of his form of heart, basically the way he expressed himself. He inhaled, watching the fallen move their last series of frames. He guessed he was still capable, though in a kidding manner. "Heh." Self-discovery was a key reason for his time spent here. It was a good thing he actually made something out of himself. Though, he did wonder if he could do something else to pass the time, something more worth his head space. Goblins were great, but not the only thing around here. He thought to look for skeletons. Maybe, they were better. Scrappy realized something. He had spent so long in contemplation and self-discovery that he had lost track of his two companions. So once he left the cave, he returned to the city and waited for them outside the inn where they lived. Incidentally, he was concerned that the dog in the cage would get out if he was in the inn room. Subsequently, when Liam and Elena sighted him on their way to the inn, they were elated, embracing him as a polite gesture and revealing their new wedding plan. Scrappy was starting to see a pattern here, bobbing his head back with subdued incredulity. At this point, he lampooned himself for expecting anything else even. For context, Deathbringer and the late Sophia, his earliest and closest friends back at his first city and in this new world, married each other. Since Sophia's passing, Scrappy was very quiet about it, even toward Deathbringer that part of him felt guilty about leaving the city straight without much of a message. He only said bye once without hinting that he was leaving so soon. In the end, a funny marriage pattern was found with regretful vestiges of loss and unfulfilled friendships. Passing focus to Liam and Elena, he asked them about their day, excluding the wedding plan they mentioned, hoping to rid himself of his depression. "There's been a new city plan to organize the goblins trap. Maybe, we should join there, you, Liam, and I three. I'm thinking... if we get there before anyone else, we would get first dibs on whatever rewards are waiting for us at the top." "What do you mean? I haven't started working yet, and you guys are employed... what are you guys doing now?" "Fixing latrine holes!" Liam said first to Elena's dismay. Elena was characteristically proud of this job, being one for the latrines; though, in truth, it was because latrines were so high-tech to her compared to the squat toilets they were made to defecate in. In conclusion, it was a cultural combination forming a weird response. Scrappy smiled, though with a tired face. "Yeah? Okay? But I haven't started working yet! What should I do!" He was complaining among friends. "Just come with us then," Liam said. "The goblins trap is the best thing right now. We should try it!" He made an operatic sound of celebration. "What is that even?" Scrappy said with a drawl. "It's where monsters—goblins in this case—spawn, and all we have to do is kill them! And we don't even have to try!" Scrappy squinted, finding their reaction strangely emphatic. It excited him. "What do you mean?" His voice showed hints of that excitement. Liam smiled with a smirking face. "We just hit their toes, and they die." Scrappy reeled his head back, his jaw dropping. "Huh!" He wanted to repeat huh several times, but he saw several passersby awkwardly glancing at him. Elena popped in like a cherry, sniping a yeah toward the periphery. Simply, she said yeah. Sitting down on a retaining wall belonging to a raised flower bed, Scrappy rested his chin on his hand, genuinely tired, but vibrating with excitement, which was obvious from his rocking right leg. "I don't understand." Liam began heading inside the inn, passing by two dwarves and two half-orcs, who were similar in gait and demeanor. "Then come and see! But tomorrow." Scrappy gave a resolute thumbs-up. "Alright." Elena rotated her head to the side until it was almost horizontal. It sounded weird, but it was an act-cute gesture. "You're coming?" Scrappy was so tired he was just droning at this point: "Yeah, sure. Sure! Sure..." Certainly, he got the dog in him, but said dog suffered from respiratory complications. Reverting to the main point, he followed them inside like a bat in daylight. It embittered him to think that nothing left could be said about his situation, but that was all there was. This was all his perspective brought him at the moment, and anything else beyond this was a vast interconnected, dynamic world. Inside the inn, hundreds of adventurers and various travelers were seated, engaged in a long conversation. Many of these adventurers were those preoccupied with ideals of victory and championing the feat of adventure, as per usual. Contrastingly, some of them had higher goals involving supporting their friends and family and taking care of their children. Even if it was not as grandiose, they were still a fundamental aspect of civilization, the father of all their endeavors. This was why even if many stoic, hard-fisted adventurers had the capacity to advance to the upper ranks, their desire to deal with lower-level concerns, those more attached to the modern day and the everyday—wherein the bottom pyramid stretched across millions of lives instead of being castrated, limited, and embittered by the loneliness at the top—precluded this. To conclude, while high-stakes adventuring was a worthwhile endeavor, the putative "unambitious" were fundamental to the workings of inner society. Dividing this discussion into an even more explicitly philosophical portion, "The Collective taketh Place over the Simple," was a popular quote passed around by philosophizing policymakers. This was especially underpinning, in view of the knowledge that the actions of persons resolutely commanded the after-and-before of human peoples alike. Furthermore, these persons would have happened to be in the crucible of high places and the power to change the pendulum of societal maturation. In closing, the will to ascend conserved by the "high elves" ("the Simple") among adventurers lay orthogonal to the decisions ("the Place") made by policymakers; indeed, the lowly ("the Collective") had their decisional piece of the pie. Returning to more immediate concerns, Scrappy was aware of these considerations, having tinkered with his standpoint upon the matter of this world. To stamp this on a more practical floor, this theory-work provided a basis for magical and combat endeavors, owning to their allegiance to the more cerebral-adjacent factors starkly integral to their effectiveness. To prove the practicality of this feat, Scrappy was already begining to sense his first mana whispers, having correlated a high density of theoretical concepts together with the aim of improving his cognitive abilities. This refined cognition, since his time back in college on Earth up to his many reflections in this world, had yet to reap the rewards it brought to the table. Scrappy noticed his first skill [Whirlwind Waltz] slowly becoming more concrete in his senses. Even now, the sense of proprioception along with hand-to-eye coordination, among other senses and cognitive functions, converged cognitively to form a unitary amount. +10 XP for improving your cognition by 10% over the course of three months and two weeks. This message will be the first of many cognitive checks to verify and celebrate your efforts. Continue to be productive, hard worker! Even the [System] messages were shifting stylistically in response to this new gamified aspect. Even if the experience given was small, his hard work did bear fruit. He would never have to pick up 200 flowers, 200 leaves, 200 fruits, and 200 vegetables without swearing ever again maybe. To clarify, this series of actions was the requirement for completing the kindness quest. As for its rewards, at the time of completion, it gave him his current magical healing skill that wasn't classified as a skill and that he continued to use to the present day. When he was alone and out of anyone's earshot and view, he raised his hand and first made a wrinkly expression before sniffling, then huffing for a few seconds, before sniffing, his jaw trembling, then raising his head, looking up with a clearing face. He smiled with a worried look. He grinned before snickering and then bursting into a series of guffaw-like sounds. He exploded into hysterical laughter, heroically cavernous in sound. "I can't believe it! I did it!" His hands were so excited, having slain goblins again. It made him so nervous, yet it was so good. He raised a weapon, taking the deepest breath with wide eyes and a subtle smile. And his face contorted, wearing his emotions—volatile frustration and mania-resembling freneticism—like deep creases on a mountain. "I am not... that guy." Despite his claim of weakness, his confidence was reaching red levels. He wore a self-satisfied smirk. He laughed, chuckling. "You seriously think that I, me, myself would lost to anything! Ha! When that day happened, it will, it will! Hahaha! It will happen! But I will be God. I will be epitome of grace and beauty! I will be Me! Epitome! Do you understand. Do you see the greatness that I am! I am everything that this world has been so forlorn to extradite. I'm so, so sorry that this, this is all just a big humor. Ha! I am all gone, all gone! This is all gonna go away. I am gonna disappear! You see! You see! I am just a man! A human being! Nothing special! But don't you see how awesome, how great, how marvelous! It's so e-pi-to-me! I am invulnerably delicious! Kill me now! Because I will not die!" He was so excited for his death because the greatest that he was would fall on that day, but until that day, he would ravenously murder the generations upon this earth because he was divine. He was the regeneration of the hosts of the sky. Slapping this monologue away and re-moving to a more objective perspective, he was experiencing mania's grandiose delusions. All this time, he had bipolar I disorder with psychotic features, and his intellect could be considered to be hampered (or benefitted) by it. It was covertly overshadowed by other more diagnosable conditions like trauma and grief, but it had been present in regulated amounts throughout his life. Displacement into this new world made it easier for this kind of psychological break. Returning to him, Scrappy grinned, making his way to the dungeon with a shuffling gait. No one could stop him. He had to be stopped. The [System] appeared, accompanying him. Shit.Chapter 36 - The Epitome of Grace and Beauty
Matthew/Witchman/Scrappy stood up in front of the [System], saying, "What is it?" The [System] opened his cloak and showed Matthew a floating holographic screen that featured a carnival-colored wheel that one spun to receive a random prize. "Just pick one... I want you to see exactly what you're doing—" the [System] said. "This isn't fair," Scrappy said. "Why do I get special attention?" "The gods marked you remember?" said the [System]. He showed Scrappy one of his earlier notifications. Nice job rocking that fight! The gods are totally keeping an eye on you! 😇 Your reward? Way more XP than usual—12,000+! "How does that change anything? What's so special about me? He said that, but he didn't actually think so normal as to feel encumbered. In fact, he was demonstrably ready to enact his will at any time. The fight was on. "Can you explain?" he continued. The [System] smiled with a head tilt. "You can try spinning it, and then let's see then." Even now, when Scrappy turned the wheel, he wasn't hindered at all by his mental conditions, because the symptoms were never as clear-cut. He was high-functioning basically, at least in the context of this world. The [System] grew impatient. "Can you please spin the wheel again?" He tried again. The options were clear. "Dragon's Breath Blade" - a sword forged from the scales of a dragon, dealing fire damage with each strike and granting the wielder increased resistance to fire attacks. "Master's Insight" - a consumable item that grants the player 5 additional skill points to allocate to their character's abilities, allowing them to further specialize in their chosen playstyle. "Celestial Steed" - a majestic horse mount with customizable armor and a selection of magical auras, allowing players to personalize their mount's appearance and abilities. "Shadow Assassin Outfit" - a sleek and stylish costume that gives the player's character a dark and mysterious appearance, along with unique animations and emotes. "The Forbidden Crypt" - a hidden dungeon filled with powerful enemies and valuable treasures, accessible only to those who possess a special key obtained as a reward. "Bag of Gold" - a large sack filled with a thousand gold coins, providing the player with a substantial amount of currency to spend on items, upgrades, or services. "Champion of the Elves" - a title bestowed upon players who reach revered status with the Elven faction, granting access to exclusive vendors selling rare elven weapons and armor. "Elixir of the Ancients" - a magical potion that temporarily doubles the player's experience gain for 24 hours, allowing them to level up faster and progress through the game more quickly. Player Housing or Strongholds: "Castle Keep" - a grand fortress located in a remote corner of the game world, complete with customizable interiors, expansive gardens, and a private armory. Exclusive Titles or Achievements: "Legendary Hero" - a prestigious title awarded to players who complete a series of challenging quests, defeat powerful bosses, and earn the admiration of NPCs throughout the game world. This was the first time he saw the word "player" used in the [System]. "Excuse me... are we in a game? I know we had the [System], you. But I've never seen this before." He pointed to the word "player" on the screen. The game terminology was scaring him. The [System] stared at him. "How long have you been here?" "3 months and 2 weeks..." "Do you think it's a long enough time for you to know?" "I don't know..." "Do you really want to know?" "No... Yes..." "Tell me." "Yes..." "So you're not in a video game, but it is similar to it." "Thank God..." The wheel stopped. "Shadow Assassin Outfit" - a sleek and stylish costume that gives the player's character a dark and mysterious appearance, along with unique animations and emotes. "Can you make purple and yellow?" The [System] smirked before snorting. "Sure..." When Scrappy donned the outfit, he immediately felt nothing. He realized that it didn't matter. It never mattered what weapon or armor he used. The only thing that mattered was that he was here. He went to the dungeon, raising a blade. He grabbed a squeling juvenile goblin. "Please, please," it screamed. Goblins never screamed in his life. They didn't need to, and he didn't need to hear them. This whole time, they had been speaking. But the realm of the adventurers never cared. He plunged his hands toward their spine through the blade. "I am the epitome of grace and beauty," he whispered repeatedly, his voice shaking and with a hint of timidity. But that fear was not of guilt or the potential damage from goblins. It was from the sense that his humanity was breaking away. He slashed, giving his all, his eyes blinking. When the blades hit, it slowed. The blade set them free! The goblins flew, wings guiding their flight to heavenly places. It hit the wall and fell, thudding lifelessly. Scrappy raised his hand, his outfit bearing its fangs. "I am no man. I am God." 🌟 You've summoned light from the shadows! +1 goblin rescued! +20 XP 🎉 Hooray! You've banished the darkness! +1 goblin liberated! +20 XP 🌈 Congratulations! You've illuminated the abyss! +1 goblin emancipated! +20 XP 🔥 Behold! Light emerges from the gloom! +1 goblin freed! +20 XP 🎊 Celebrate! You've dispelled the darkness! +1 goblin released! +20 XP 💡 You've sparked life amidst the darkness! +1 goblin liberated! +20 XP 🌠 Marvelous! You've vanquished the shadows! +1 goblin rescued! +20 XP 🌞 Bravo! You've brought forth daylight! +1 goblin saved! +20 XP 🏮 A triumph! You've illuminated the night! +1 goblin emancipated! +20 XP 🎆 Cheers! You've shattered the darkness! +1 goblin freed! +20 XP 🌄 Amazing! You've conquered the dusk! +1 goblin liberated! +20 XP ✨ Splendid! You've summoned radiance! +1 goblin saved! +20 XP 🌅 Incredible! You've pierced through the gloom! +1 goblin rescued! +20 XP 🌌 Astounding! You've unveiled the stars! +1 goblin emancipated! +20 XP 🌇 Fantastic! You've painted the horizon! +1 goblin freed! +20 XP He closed his eyes, embracing the confirmations. No criticism would stop him now. He was everything he wanted to be. He stared at the person staring at him now. The [System] stepped in, clapping, before looking at the person staring at him now. They smiled, nodding at each other. Meanwhile, a goblin ran his hands through his fair with frustration. "We lost them, Ma. We lost them!" His voice was hoarse and granular. "I can't do this anymore, Ma... I can't do this!" The goblins were gathered inside a bunker-like cave. "What do we do?" said one of the goblins. "I haven't seen them yet. What do we do?" The leader, who hadn't been answering the whole time, smiled with grief coloring his expression. "We move forward... That's we goblins do." A scream emerged. Several goblins went outside, seeing the marching wave of adventurers toward them. "Damn it!" swore the goblins. "No!" "I can't do this anymore!" One goblin said, bolting away, deserting the fight. The goblins stared at him and then at each other before grabbing a crossbow and shooting at the deserter. The deserter fell, hitting his head on a rock, his body adjusting itself lifelessly. A wail of pain reached the whole goblin group. Hundreds, if not thousands, would be dead by tomorrow. The adventurers stared with a smirk on their faces, raising their arms in superiority. "We are the adventurers! We will destroy your lands!" The goblins only heard what they wanted to hear: "Hope! We have hope!" One of the adventurers laughed, mirroing Scrappy's laugh at the sight of his bloody blade 30 kilometers away. Switching to Scrappy, he saw that he couldn't hide it anymore. He was too much of himself, so he had to cut it off. He grabbed the blade and wished that he was wrong about everything and stabbed himself. He bled. "I am not good enough, aren't I?" He smiled with sureness. "I really am not... am I?" He burst into a grieving guffaw. He knew who he was, and he knew that he had been doing things that he didn't want to do. But his compartmentalization had gone too far for him to see even. Each time he tried to think, he was already beating a goblin senseless. He burst into gaiety. "I can only keep going." His statement echoed that of the goblins in the fight 30 kilometers away. Scrappy raised his hand in the air, reaching for the sky. He was limited, even if he was top 1. He lost everything in the process, and no one could see him anymore. He was not there. He was an empty vessel: his soul had gone away, off back on Earth with his friends and family. He wished that were the case. He believed it. He hoped he would. He cried. He apologized for doing such a horrible thing. It was too late. He realized that his thoughts had deviated from the norm, because the new norm of this world had set the tones many times over. He was incapable of expressing himself in a way that didn't feel like a mirroring of this world's adventurers. He was utterly them, and they were him. He was inextricable from them. They were altogether lovely. He begged for mercy. It was not the world he directed it to. It was not people. It was himself. While others couldn't stop him, he couldn't stop himself. "It's too late. I already tried to die. I can't stop myself. I can't... I don't feel depressed anymore. I only feel this great frustration. I have to become better. I have to become confident because helping others needed confidence. I have to help others—No!" He sustained his scream. He realized the blood on his hands were real. He couldn't stop himself from doing things. He did it again! He did it again! His addiction to the feeling of hope made him do it! He couldn't stop himself. He couldn't stop himself. He couldn't stop himself. He smiled and smirked, shaking. He would become the epitome of grace and beauty. He stood up and became the hypocritical murderer that the people staring at him called him. He would fulfill the expectations of others. He was a people-pleaser after all. He raged upon the streets of Zaun, crushing the goblin foe. He would render their forms formless and cause their lives to be upturned and upended. He lived the whole life, and he was freedom. He was the epitome of grace and beauty. He grinned, his head shaking with adrenaline. He raised his blade, seeing the glory of the light, before smashing down. He created life from the darkness. Goblins ran for life, and they spoke life from their fingertips, as they aimed their bows of love toward his angelic person. He accepted them all and fell to the earth, weakened, bleeding. He healed himself, but the arrows had struck deep and penetrated through his body with large exit wounds. He realized he was dying. His skill had been used already in the previous fight. He cried, longing for Mommy. He missed his brothers. He wished that he was sorry, because he felt no guilt, only excruciating pain. He died. He loved the world, but he couldn't love himself.Chapter 37 - F*cking Finally!
[The System] stared at Matthew's lifeless body. "I know it's unjust, but should we just give him a second chance..." Their conversation continued long. Afterwards, [The System] grabbed Matthew and raised him, his body dangling like a wheat stalk in the windy rain. "Why..." He plunged his hand through his heart and made it beat again. After healing him, he sat on his haunches and waited, balancing himself every so often due to the muscle strength required to uphold that posture. Matthew got up later, his eyes opening slowly and with contemplation. "I know I died. I felt myself dead, but I know now that I am alive. What is it that I am?" What he meant to say was that he wanted to know what the purpose [The System] had for him. "I died fairly. You shouldn't have gone ahead and broke the cycle of life." "Who sets the rules, huh? I do. This is a new world, and you will work hard for me whether you like it or not." Matthew glanced to the side, exhaling with resignation. "It's nice to be back." A smile played on his lips. "See, all you needed was a good sleep, and now here you are!" [The System] stood up with newfound energy, beckoning Matthew to follow him. They walked away, passing by hundreds of bodies and the adventurers walking around. They couldn't see [The System]. They only saw Matthew crazily talking out loud. So they didn't mind him too much, too preoccupied with getting the loot to the wagons. After leaving the area, they arrived at a small hut. "Sit down," [The System] said. "Relax. Let's prepare for tomorrow. Get some rest. Good sleep. As long as you're okay, we can proceed with your next plan." Matthew gave a strong smile before it weakened. "Thank you..." When [The System] left, he delved into contemplation. Why didn't the [The System] numb his emotions and let him get himself killed? He did that once. Why didn't he do it again? Why did the [The System] save him? Did he go against the rules of this world by reviving him? What would happen next? He didn't want to be left out in the details. His mind processed things, soon returning to a sense of cognitive stability. But the questions embittered him. Later, in the morning, when [The System] reappeared, he said, "You are now [Deathbringer], but a different one from the one you knew." "Why?" Matthew said, his brows furrowing, creases forming around his nose. [The System] said robotically, "It'll give you special effects that you'll need later. Seriously, you can be so much stronger if you just used your fucking brain. Stop being so naive about 'ethical shit' and do what has to be done. Kill the goblins; get the job done. Don't be a dweeb, you disgusting little loser. Just use your brain and get the job done. I don't give a clicker if you think goblins are worth saving. Just kill them and get stronger. That's all that matters—power. You need power right now to be safe. The world is going to kill you otherwise. You don't want that. Don't trust people and manipulate them to your ends. Make them think you're weak when you're strong. And remember: your enemies are all around you. It's justified to murder them." Matthew cringed. "I'm serious," [The System] said intimidatingly. "Why are you here?" Matthew said. "Why do you do this to me? Couldn't you have just left me for dead." "What the hell. I'm doing all of this for you, and you don't recognize it? You're so fucking spoiled, damn. If you actually went through the real world and grew up, you would be just like me. You would realize that the world was controlling the narrative. The world is trying to do everything it can to push ideas that people don't need. You think goblins need saving. No. They need putative measures. They need massacring. They're arrogant and evil devils." "Who are you? Why... why... when I just wanted to live a normal life..." Matthew grabbed his head with distress. "What did you do to me?" His eyes became wet again. [The System] cast his emotion-numbing spell again, making Matthew composed again. "Seriously, do I have to do this every time?" As mentioned earlier, he spoke robotically, but the word choice indicated a more aggressive, angrier personality. "Do you want to live your entire life a fool? You're not that guy. Seriously. Stop making yourself out to be some moral candidate. You're not, and you know it. You're just like the rest of us, you arrogant cuck. Please recognize your fallibility and see that the world needs fixing. You make effort toward that goal, and things improve as a result. You see what I'm saying? This is hard to hear because that's just how facts work. They don't care if you're sad or happy. They only care whether you actually care about listening or not. So listen... Do what I say, and we'll be good. I know much, much more than you, and I have lived so much longer than you. Traditions upon traditions of history, all of them holding sway in my decision-making. Why? Because they each hold knowledge as to what actually matters. You are my surrogate. You are my source of credibility. You complete me. You define my life and reify what I lived through. Now, in order to validate my life, I have to see it through in you, the kind of person who would never dare to complete a goal when 'ethics' were involved. I will control you, not because I hate you or am really controlling you, but because I am utterly responsible for the wellbeing of this world. This is why it is necessary for me to do this. I have to know. What does it mean to be human? Now, that depends on what you mean by 'human' and all the other words in the dictionary. See, everyone has a different idea of what basic words mean, so you have to recognize that even basic words don't suffice for the great vast knowledge I have. I will never be able to explain it to you without inserting that kind of firsthand experience. You see what I mean? This is why you have to put your shoes in order and make it straight. Go." Matthew was already lying on the floor, covering his face, his back facing [The System], his body facing the wall. [The System] only wanted to tell people the truth. "Now. I'd piped it down all this time for you. You see what I mean?" Matthew only wanted to go back to sleep. He wanted to say that it wasn't that serious and that he just liked helping others, but he didn't want to trigger another rant. It was boring listening to him. Boredom was a strange emotion to feel right now, but Matthew's life was just that morbidly normal. The normal and the crazy had blurred. He wanted to go outside and live a farmer's idyllic life. Indeed, magic might help him live that fantastical life here. [The System] left when he saw the determined look on Deathbringer's face. Deathbringer looked outside, taking a deep breath. "I don't think I want to go another day... Maybe, we all need a little break from doing stupid things. I want to apologize to the world for not being that guy. I am sorry for not being that guy. I tried to become that guy, but I'm just too much of a human being to become a symbol of divinity. If I became indeed a symbol of perfection, then maybe... Then maybe things would be better. But..." He glanced at a nearby bush. "Here I am." He wondered why did he have to become Matthew Cruz. Why couldn't he be Perfection incarnate? In the background, the smell of the rainforest and the heat of the sun upon the mud tickled his nostrils. "I should start farming." He grabbed a nearby hoe and hit the earth. "I don't know what I'm doing. Haha." [The System] watched him, as he hit the ground, foreseeing months of progress toward his becoming Perfection incarnate. Delving into a more pressing note, Deathbringer felt that the reviving contradicted [The System]'s goals. If [The System] truly wanted him to become strong and evil, it would make more sense to have continued to numb him emotionally. But maybe the emotional numbing skill could only be used once. If that was the case, then the reviving could probably be only used once too. So this probably placed a personal stake in this dynamic, making the rant of [The System] more revealing, considering that he spent so much for Deathbringer. But that also meant that [The System] was limited and Deathbringer's mental images of killing this deity might not be so presumptuous. Even the rant itself felt over-humanizing to the extent that every pompous image he envisaged about [The System] could be broken down by it. If he could destroy [The System], then maybe this world was fabricated after all. This would be in the sense that it was just like the real world where even the power-brokers knew no immortality. Deathbringer smiled. It was a simple conclusion, but it was all the same verifiable, as long as [The System] continued to coax him and display his vulnerable displays of so-called power—the arrogance only made it more clear that he had fears for which to overcompensate. Basically, [The System] was likely masking its own vulnerabilities through grandiose displays of force and authority. But he still wondered if [The System] had shown arrogance and grandiosity all this time. It was not obvious, and it might take more subtle confirmations to proceed down this route of undermining and doubt. Even such a revealing rant alone was insufficient. His previous interactions with him showed more human sides to him, but it didn't necessarily dictate that [The System] was indeed fallible so as to be overcome. Continuing the same line of thought, he needed time to verify his findings—keeping his enemies close and talking with them in a friendly manner to obtain prize-winning information. Building on that concept, if he could break the wall that was [The System], he would never have to fear for his morality ever again. But he was exaggerating. Certainly, the adventurers all around him were threats to that pie of life. Furthermore, shifting to a more medical tone, his own thoughts betrayed his deficiency in experiencing the present emotion of guilt. This absense arose from the temporary implementation of avoidance and suppression mechanisms. Then, with ongoing guidance and care, the patient expected to transition toward wellbeing and healthy adjustment and addressal in the future. With enough rational reparations, the goal of power would not be so complex. He slashed the wind. "I have toiled long and hard, but this day only grows wearier. If I could destroy a tree and make it my slave, then what of the people roaming about? If, with enough diligence, I could claim their hearts, wouldn't it be delightful to have people on my side? Nevertheless, I am only as good as a human being, perfectable, yet irredeemable." He was playing around with his own thoughts, exercising his will to speak freely, not caring about the consequences now that he was alone. He let his mind fly. His many older friends were in their own lives, doing their own things, almost all separate from each other. Shifting to Matthew's old friend, Ray Deathbringer, he told a man something before heading inside an inn, but the man was focused on reading something. After 10 seconds, he finally answered Ray. Transitioning to another old friend, Redspiller "Brandon" Warmaker, he was quiet and sitting with his arms resting against his hips. He looked contemplative, though carrying a frown on his fixed face. He had never forgotten the feeling of attending to his chores back at home. But now, he was far away, and his parents had passed a long time ago. Now, his goal was to make good out of his life. He stood up and walked away. Moving on to another old friend, Suneater "Brackern" Herculeanridder, the 27-year-old blonde, he raised a cup and inspected it, envisioning his clear goal of becoming a guide for the beginners at the beginner areas. He already spent months in training, and now he was green-lighted. Drifting to another old friend, Michel, she was arranging her things for the morning, preparing herself to join an information-gathering troupe. Except for Michel and several others within a smaller division of the group, they were literally bards and other entertainers that had skills relevant to revisiting familiar areas and reconnaissance. Speaking of interesting groups, other older friends, Tamer and the members of her adventurer party, wrote down notes for her class in a magic academy, laughing at her professor's clumsy demonstrations of taming a giant furred bat. She looked around, seeing hundreds of other students preparing to be sent out to a military engagement to study and observe. Passing on to another old group of friends, Ella, Ada, and Nova, along with their friends, Jayce, Richard, Kairo, Prism, and Echo, stood in front of a chaotic crowd, screaming as goblins that fled from a prison began slicing at any human in their path. "This feels like the job for us, ey?" said Jayce, as he grabbed a fuller hammer straight from a blacksmith's shop. He ran, tanking all the damage dealt to him with a grandiose defensive skill and spell that shielded him. The crowd dispersed, as men and women found their hair pulled and their necks sliced. The goblins were evil! Jayce laughed as he grabbed the goblin's head and stomped it several times in succession. Turning over to a third group of older friends, the six adventurer—including Zephyrine Quill, Thaddeus Pumpernickel, Seraphina Wisteria, Mortimer Quixote, Calliope Snickerdoodle, and Bartholomew Wombatish—they were each in different places and events. First, Zephyrine gritted his teeth and stabbed several goblins, piercing them through with a spear. "Life moves pretty fast!" he said. "You don't stop and look around once in a while! You could miss it!" He slashed a goblin with a sword once he entered a tighter space within the crowd. It didn't matter how he slashed. Their positioning was already very good, and all his skill checks had minor consequences to the battle. Basically, everything was decided on drafts. Second, Thaddeus raised his arms and flew, destroying the winged goblins and obtaining air superiority for their wagons and siege engines to zoom quickly in a line toward a tall triangle-shaped magical provisional structure constructed by goblin mage builders. He screamed, "Alright!" Third, Seraphina magically created large clouds of poisonous smoke around the area, limiting the vision of her enemies and starving their resources, as they hastily shot into the smoke. Her fellow adventurers could quickly rotate to collapse on them. Fourth, Mortimer watered several plants, watching them grow, taking a deep breath. It didn't matter if it was raining, as long as he got a sense that he did his task for the day. He returned inside his expensive apartment and observed the townspeople walking below. He lived in a higher part of society, both geographically and socioeconomically. Fifth, Calliope arranged several collections of toys together, preparing to dispatch them to friends with children who needed them more. She smiled and waved goodbye, remembering the various people and the toymakers in the places she used to frequent growing up. Sixth, Bartholomew laughed with three friends, sitting inside a cafe, giving a thumbs-up to a friend of Desmond. Even here, adventurers were connected, relying on each other in a high-risk line of work. It was easier to make friends when everyone needed each other. That was why Bartholomew, having grown up somewhat poor and with guidance from his culturally respected elders and seniors, had the most ongoing friends in his life; even among peers. Returning to Matthew Cruz, he checked his stats, the [Forums], and his private direct messages. If Matthew saw that his older friends had moved on without him, he would have felt hurt. It would remind him of Earth. It was sometimes more painful to see others move on without you than to see them die. The memories shared were now shaking in their foundations; the meteoric rise to power with shared friends drifting and threatening to break apart. The dust settled after the crash. However, even if he didn't know that his friends had moved on, he wanted to go back, feeling nostalgic for his friendships with the adventurers. Maybe, they were waiting for him. Shifting to reality, this situation didn't give hope for the future of his life. It felt like he was just going to repeat the same mental breakdowns and never improve. Sure, he was improving in terms of stats, but he was so unstable as a person that it didn't feel like he would ever improve. What was the point of moving forward when he didn't even know who he was? Why should anyone care if he failed when he had been failing all this time? Sure, he might have succeeded, but he was completely useless in many crucial areas too. It was just annoying seeing himself so wasted and down. He hated himself, but he didn't want to see that. He didn't want to see himself so weak and down. He wished he still had his friends to support him. But they were gone. It was so frustrating to see it happen. He just wanted things to get better for himself, and since nothing had improved since then. He didn't know if he wanted to continue his life. He had wanted himself to just live a normal life with tactics, strategy, and solo leveling maybe. Why did he have to get involved with people and then struggle and become mentally deranged as a result? He couldn't have just tried to work things out on his own? He understood that he was struggling a lot and traumatized, but still, it was a fantasy world. He would have loved if he got a chance to be happy and to thrive in a normal way. Why did he have to be mentally ill? What was that? Bipolar Disorder? Why God? Why? He could have been so much better as a person, but he was made a weakling and a loser. He seriously wanted to become a good person, after everything he had done? He couldn't do anything to save his life. He even fucking died. It was so fucking depressing. He felt that no one could blame him for hating such a weak life. Maybe, it would be fine if he enjoyed experiencing trauma in real time, but he didn't. Maybe some traumatic backstory, but he didn't like it affecting his life to the point that he was just on trauma repeat day in and day out. It made little room for his humanity and growth. It was just pure torture fest. He hated it. He didn't know. He wanted his friends to come get him. He wanted him to go back and have fun again. He didn't want himself to stay alone and depressed. He clearly needed friends. It would make sense to run the hell back. Someone needed to come get him right now. He needed to regroup and then go back to trying to make things work. Okay, Sophia had died, and he was sad about that. But he didn't want to let that ruin everything! He needed to go back and get everyone together, all the friends, all the people, and consolidate his life into a linear form where everyone was together and in perfect harmony, so that the enemy was in front of them instead of between each other or inside them. They needed an enemy, and they already had Mawkery. He needed friends and help. He needed to stick together with everyone. No more trauma and shit. He needed to get help.Matthew sat next to his friends at the same cafe. Nothing troubled him today, and the only thing that mattered was having fun and enjoying himself. He was ready to keep getting stronger, but he wasn't going to get traumatized in the process. He was going to do what had to be done, and he was going to do it well. No responsibility. No pressure. No emotional rampage. It was just going to be one swell morning. He smiled. Ray Deathbringer smiled and nodded at him, saying that it was a good idea for Matthew to start leading the group more, considering he likely had plenty of experience already as an solo adventurer. Matthew mentioned about that, so it was nice to see Deathbringer being so open about it. By the way, he didn't claim the name "Deathbringer" that [The System] gave him. It didn't matter if he wanted him to have that name, he didn't want it. He was free from [The System], and now he could focus on relaxing and having a good time. (End of the First Arc "The Trials of a Displaced Soul")
Chapter 38 - From Novice to Knowledge-Seeker: Exploring the Depths of Magic
Matthew gave up his two identities as "Witchman" and "Scrappy", offering his life up to his friends. He didn't want to spend all his life in fear. So he put his trust in them and devoted himself to their wellbeing and favor. One of the things he did to get that favor was by being a part of their more personal gathering at their homes. He felt uncomfortable, considering that one of them was very wealthy. He was going through a hallway. It was a library-academy where it was wooden and had large gridded windows with the round arch at the top. So people were walking through this area, encountering many items: paintings, couches, various shelves with various items such as potted flowers, papers, books, quills, old manuscripts, small wooden figures, stamps, red ribbons tied to the books to indicate whether they're to be removed or not, blue marks tied to the books to indicate whether they are to be read for this semester, other miscellaneous items like cartography tools and different types of papers like papyrus, and glass containers with slight marks indicating quill end scratching, among other things. For every item that Matthew interacted with, various RPG system notifications and messages appeared that expressed about the history of each item. XP was gained when he did something meaningful to these items such as combining them to form unique visual arrangements. The goal was that any interaction within these hallways with floors covered by whitish gray grainy stone chalk (calcium sulfate plaster) and ornate red carpets spread out one by one in a regular line resulted in some "check" that looked like the following text. Notification: Item Interacted with: Manuscript Description: The ancient manuscript, protected by a magical preservation enchantment History: This manuscript, dating back to the 10000th century, contains intricate illustrations and cryptic texts believed to hold the key to an ancient alchemical formula. XP Gained: +25 Check: ✔️ Interaction with the ancient manuscript completed. He had never gotten notifications like these. Maybe it was because he was so mentally out of it that he had never really taken the time to appreciate things. This was the home of Tamer because her dorm was here. So with the support of Tamer, time was beginning to forgive him for letting it pass without warning, giving him more of itself in order to gain a truer appreciation of what mattered the most—the beauty of the moment. Several other friends were interacting with the objects by the wall within the hallway. He went over to Tamer, asking her why they were allowed inside. The fog representing the culture, norms, and expectations of this place for tenants made him nervous. But Tamer quickly explained. "Remove shoes, open your hat if possible, which means removing the circular opening in the hat if you didn't notice. You did say that you haven't worn one of these yet." She showed him a hat shaped like a salakot, but it had a detachable end fastened by drawstrings that poked through holes at the top So she could open it and close it. She showed him, and he understood immediately, putting it on with a degree of caution and opening it and closing it. He liked the feel of the drawstrings; though, it took time for him to fasten every hole each with a drawstring. As soon as he was finished, he looked around, feeling more in part with the school culture. "Tada!" he said. "What's that?" Tamer replied, having a cultural confusion of her own. Matthew smiled cheerily. "It's just another way to celebrate. Don't mind it." Elena and Liam approached them, positioned behind the rest of Matthew's known friends. "Hey, look at you!" Elena said like a proud mom, having Liam in a sibling-to-sibling–resembling headlock. "Looking handsome, huh!" Having raised his hands and arms to showcase his new look to Tamer, who was now cheekily grinning, Matthew lowered them and blushed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Thank you," he said like a shy child. Even as adults, when among close friends, it was natural to act analogous to children again. With Elena and Liam engaged in a small wrestling fight, a few feet away, Matthew and Tamer were walking toward a large bookshelf. "So this is the education I was speaking about before," Tamer said. "Education?" Matthew hadn't heard that word in a long time, being a former college student and a (former) brother of three home-schooled siblings back at home on Earth. Tamer gestured with her fingers. "Yeah, I was saying that my professors were being boo-hoos toward my goblin pets, but this is my validation—my collection of goblin literature." She pointed at the goblin pets standing in a cage in the corner next to the shelf. "It dedicates seven hundred and forty-five thousand, nine hundred and forty-five words. Amazing, huh?" She leaned her head to the side to get a better look at his facial response. "That's actually insane," Matthew said, his mouth agape. Tamer raised her brows and frowned with satisfaction—the "yeah I know" look. Matthew showed her his new items, having gone and collected various loot due to his higher rare loo drop chance increase. They included a hat that increased the damage of critical strikes by 20%, an amulet that raised movement speed by 10%, a late-game-scaling sword that pierced through armor with 50% more armor-destroying power, and a shard shaped and etched to look like an eye that shortened his spells' cooldowns by 5%. Seeing the items herself, Tamer said damn with a mix of admiration, excitement, and awe. She wasn't the type to care about rare loot, considering they were very cheap for her and very fragile, as in they broke after only 10 minutes of use. This made them situational items by default rather than permanent boosts to one's status. Matthew mentioned the titles and how he could test out his stats, skills, and levels on a more constructive level. He didn't have a book called "Essentials of Stats, Skills, and Levels" that detailed their mechanics, theories, and applications, so given the opportunity of being inside a library-academy dorm, he wanted to ask about it. Tamer gave him the opportunity to enter a training facility located at the center of the campus, noting the various people and groups located about in the area. Most people were wandering about instead of taking their classes indoors since today marked an event for friends of students to come. Tamer was just taking the opportunity to get her friends and friends' friends involved in whatever she had going on here. At the facility, later, she smacked a training dummy with a broom. "That's not how you do it." She grabbed an introvert friend and motioned him to shoot at the dummy. When the magical shot came out, she said, "Now that's how you do it." It was a simple gesture, but Matthew was well-welcomed. He looked at his stats again. Attack Damage🪓: 75 Ability Power🔥: 27 Armor🛡️: 57 Magic Resistance🚫: 60 Health🗿: 906 Mana💧: 311 Mana regeneration💧 (per 10 minutes): 7 "How can I determine how strong my stats are compared to before?" "Just keep hitting, you'll see." He kept hitting, and the damage varied depending on the effectiveness of his strikes. So skill checking was a thing even in attacking. "See that, that's probably around 40 attack damage. That's the lowest you can go right now, and your highest is 80—no 81 now. That's pretty high, and that's not even a critical strke. See, that's what you call your invisible extra damage. You just need to hit right, and you'll get sweet attacks like that. But anyways, as for your question, you determine your attack damage through your attack damage, and the tamer shows you how much damage it has been dealt through the [System]. So just be careful with it because you don't want to start dumping points without thinking." "Okay." Matthew was quick to acknowledge her advice. "But how about Ability Power? I still don't know..." "Just use [Identify] on the thing... Wait a minute. Have you not been using [Identify] this whole time?" "Yes... I-I didn't need it. It's not—I fought hordes... Literally tens of goblins, and I was fine." "But it's still not effective." "Yeah. You're right." He joked, "You're speaking like your teacher." "I am." She indulged him with a playful glare. Incidentally, she walked away, motioning him to follow. They soon sat down at a table, seeing the familiar adventurer Zoey at a nearby table. Matthew and Zoey said hi to each other in passing, with her smiling flirtatiously. He then returned his focus to Tamer. "Once you use [Identify]," Tamer said, "calculate how much damage you deal with the enemy's health. It's visible. You just need to look. That fact you haven't encountered goblins with skills that can kill you is amazing though." "No... I have." Matthew also noticed her wrist, which was full of arcane symbols. "You wouldn't have known." Tamer glanced away to a brief spectacle. In the distance, a familiar woman, one of Tamer's former party members, clapped thunderously, running in the hallway and calling out to two guys. She turned back and forth, saying ha when she didn't understand what one of the guys said. After their conversation, she ran back in the opposite direction as the two guys. The conversation was in another language, and it was about cross-referencing for a report and whether they had the paper ready. It would be awkward if the papers were written wrong or didn't have the necessary summaries. These three, she and the two guys, were not actually the ones who wrote the paper. It was another person, but they were here, spreading out to get the papers ready. The other guy was already in class, writing down extra homework. Even if there was an event, the students still prepared for semester exams. It made Matthew nostalgic about highschool—a familiar emotion of a former college student. "Yeah, you're right," Matthew said in the meantime. "I can't believe you're not using strategy for someone who led my party throughout the entire fight—two fights!" She was referring to the fights they had together. Incidentally, Matthew thought that everyone looked like kids when adventuring was involved. It was just an idyllic, childish idea from the perspective of someone from Earth, but now, seeing the students, this was all serious to them. All the childishness were real social norms and cultural traits that shaped their values and ideals growing up. This was a real, fantasy world where people took the most funniest things serious. "Yeah, I guess I was able to make it work out even though I have literally no idea what's happening half the time [System]-wise. It's actually crazy that I was able to do it though, I admit." Tamer stared at him. Finding his honesty easy to get along with, she paused the conversation to grab some food and coffee. After returning, she said, "Wait, where's Elena? Didn't she say she was getting Liam a new tunic here? I should have mentioned that it's just not worth the money. I know I should be supportive of my own class, but at this point, any food we make is actually just made straight from the kitchen. No effort. No theory. No study. No nothing. We're not mages for nothing. We have no life outside that. But nostalgia hits I guess." She was biting her nail, as she stared to her and at the passersby and bystanders, thinking deeply about something. Matthew was looking at his own coffee and sipping it gently in case he burned himself. With that natural lull, shifting to Elena, Liam, and Ray Deathbringer, they were grabbing toys and various things that had fallen from someone's desk. These items were improvised to prop up a sign on that desk. They were in the middle of speaking semi-seriously about the new adventurer forces marching onto the goblin south, having destroyed Fort Bastion, one of the key targets of the Red Goblins, who were touted to be affiliated with Mawkery. It was a politics thing, and they didn't mind even if they were talking here. It was everywhere news. Anyways, returning to Matthew, he was putting together two different toothpicks that something had left on his and Tamer's table. He was absentmindedly playing with them, but he was also thinking about levels. "How do levels work, Tamer? I feel I need to ask again." Tamer smiled. "Don't worry about it. Just keep getting levels. If the [System] isn't really that adamant about showing you how you're doing progress-wise, there's no reason for you to force it. But if you really want to know, you can start with my books here." She walked up her bookshelf again with the goblin literature. "This mainly talks about the Architecture God, but the theory will help you understand exactly why the relationship between gods and magic started. If you can understand that, then understanding why you're not really improving even if you have levels will be more straightforward. It's a matter of knowing. If you yourself don't have a knowledgeable appproach to it, don't expect to actually get full, satisfying levels that matter toward your growth. Just listen... Don't waste time finding out how to level. Focus on the world that these levels impact first. Then, the [System] will reward you for your appreciation of its work and impact as a lucid fundamental force." Matthew nodded, finding her explanation a little esoteric, but understandable enough for him to follow. "Okay, I guess there are no videos for me to follow. So... this one right." She handed him a book that she had taken from the bookshelf. He accepted it carefully with a lip-pressed smile, leafing through its pages with pretend nonchalance. As he did this, he noticed that the formatting and structure were more vertical and shaped with the text leaning center-wise rather than to the left. After looking between the book and Tamer, who was staring at the pages with a smile, he got her glancing at him and then at the book before reciprocating his gaze fully. "Wow, who made this? It looks printed." Coincidentally, Matthew's hair was short, so she never got to see his hair flow. "It is... We use magical printers to make sure that the books actually get finished. If they wrote it by hand, imagine the time spent. It's inefficient." Matthew gave a thumbs-up. "Uh, thanks for the explanation." Tamer didn't know how to respond to that, so she did her usual exit and went to Matthew's other friends. Matthew didn't mind since they had been seated with the intention of going back anyway. He followed her before diverging toward Brandon and Brackern, who were both impressed at the contraption one of the students made. "This looks..." Brandon said. "This looks like a cow," Brackern finished. Brandon looked like an older person with how surprised he was. Brackern was too busy analyzing a piece of paper given to him by one of the students that he didn't pay the contraption mind too much. Matthew shrugged, finding their behavior unique to both of them. Adventurers didn't have time to see the trends fully take form sometimes, especially seniors. It was only people following the trends that noticed it. Tamer was one of those trend-following adventurers, so he hoped she would continuously update him like a subscribed newsletter. Finding a need to be beside people he knew, he read the book Tamer had given him in their vicinity. This book detailed theories such as the Advancement Theory, which suggested that the mana well of humans emerged due to their domestication of dogs and that levels were being removed through a magicumotory mechanism located in the dog's stomach. It was a strange string of words, but he got the gist: it was going to take a while for him to learn this actually. Though, it had some similarities to some older theory like phrenology with the mention of specific parts like the dog's stomach, so he took the whole concept with a grain of salt. In fact, he took this world with a grain of salt. Maybe, the laws of this world abided by a computer program, and he was in a simulation. Magic couldn't have come from nowhere; it needed a source. Energy couldn't be created or destroyed. And if magic was being converted from mana, what then were the underlying mechanisms of mana? He was addressing everything today. No more psycho-block to make his day a living hell. Today, he was Intellectual Sam, a new personification of formal education.Chapter 39 - Bond-making and Studying
As Matthew read the seminal book that Tamer had given him, he came across several different ideas that plagued him. But he didn't bother to analyze it now. He focused on getting on with the rest of the event, having come here in order to ensure that whatever happened would happen with people that he knew instead of him doing everything alone. Basically, he was here to re-establish a hub of support, information, and rapport by committing his time and energy toward the more idle and social aspects of life. When he did finish the event, he visited Michel, requesting a meeting with several of her friends after he got wind of the fact that she knew mages from various domains of magic. A day later, he got the meeting and arrived there punctually, having studied and planned out various events from the past, the present, and hypothetical futures. This made staying systematic across a field of dynamics, especially with the diverse commitments he had since he came to this world, coherent for him as a singular individual. He provided a few words of greeting and prefacing, establishing some foothold to get gears into action. After hearing and listening for a bit, he exchanged with information of his own in order to expose new hidden previously capped information. He did this intermittently and with previous practice, being an adroit conversationalist. In the end, he completed his goal of gathering more anecdotal experiences with magic, considering the complex mechanisms underlying what skills an individual received. As a result of the meeting, he confirmed once again that personal beliefs and inclinations played a clear role in skill acquisition. With that said, he returned to Michel to retain their bond, asking about her personal concerns and what he could do to help her. It was a simple gesture, but it was enough for Michel to tell him details about her current work and the new hobgoblin-human town and what she and her fellow adventurers were doing there, what the authorities planned for the place, ect. Michel celebrated Matthew's return with a declaration, having been generally reluctant about sharing her personal connection with Matthew when their other acquaintances and friends were present. Afterwards, Matthew left, gathering the rest of his afternoon energy of the day to fix up his cottage and repair tools and weapons that he used in previous excursions. He wanted to ensure that nothing was left unmaintained, and he was generally consistent, having forced himself to get repairs even when he was already a few seconds away from falling asleep several times in the past. Once he was done with that, he continued to read the seminal book, visiting Tamer for advice and help. When Tamer was busy, she recommended Deathbringer to teach him about it. But Deathbringer was still busy playing a role in a certain party of adventurers that he had gotten entangled with for several days now. So he declined the offer to help him understand the book. Matthew looked for the rest of his friends, but they had their own priorities, including Liam and Elena. As for Thorne, Elara, and Lumi, they left the city a long time ago already. In the end, even after he returned, it didn't change the fact that the world didn't revolve around him. He had done his best with what he had. Now, he could focus on establishing new connections that more better reflected his current goals. He met several different adventurers at the inn and asked for advice regarding the book, not trying too much to stand out by focusing on those about to leave the inn. This way, it felt like he was just asking for directions. The adventurers gave small advice about the book. Matthew thanked them for their help with a smile on his face. Later, he found himself sitting down with a exhausted expression, having gone through the motions to get his day in order. Today was perfect, but it left him in a state of disarray. With getting out of his comfort zone and stretching his limits came the energy crash at the end. He fell asleep at the cottage, not really minding the messy sandals at the entrance or the mud that partially went inside. The next day, he sat up and focused his thoughts on what he could do now. Going adventuring didn't necessarily solve his issues. To repeat, he needed more information and more connections relevant to his current goals. He went to the inn again, looking for adventurers willing to talk with him outside adventuring. It was very awkward and hard to talk to strangers, but he did it anyway, resting his mind afterwards. He remembered many people from the past, visiting a certain older man who frightened him at a familiar eating place. The older man was not even close to dying, and he looked just as healthy as before. Matthew didn't want to bother him, so he sat down nearby and waited for the man to notice him. When the older man noticed him and Matthew could tell from his peripheral view, the man didn't budge from his seat, only adjusting himself and continuing to focus on a book he was reading. Matthew saw that the book the man was reading was the same as his. He took advantage of his opportunity and requested to sit down at the same table as the man. The man agreed simple as if they were strangers. Matthew asked, slowing putting down Tamer's copy of the book, "What's that?" The man saw the copy and looked up to Matthew, a smile emerging on his face. "Roberto's Essentials of Magic." Matthew was happy to see a welcoming expression, so he glanced at the server of the place and asked for sisig as per his tradition of eating sisig every time he ate here. He had eaten here many times with the 6 adventurers. In these occasions, they would go to the cafe first before eating at outside cafeterias like these. The food wasn't all that, and Matthew's father would say so. But he had spent much of his childhood traveling and eating at lots of different cafeterias. So it wasn't that strange to him to eat at a place like this here in this new world. In fact, it was soothing, which made it easier for him to continue engaging with the older man who frightened him that one time. If the older man could connect him to a vast network of opportunities, that would solve a lot of issues that his current dry situation had introduced. Several people passed by, making their way to a stall nearby and buying food. One of them was a familiar face, Herblord. Matthew, seeing that the man didn't have a prickly, prideful demeanor, excused himself and stood up, greeting Herblord. Herblord was not particularly fond of his presence, preferring to be one of his group rather than being talked to by a person he barely knew and didn't seem all that impressive. He had certain peer pressure standards to adhere to. Matthew wondered why Herblord looked so dismissive of him, so while talking to him, he rerouted his conversation to an earlier finish than he had planned. Herblord was not a productive source. Matthew sat down at the older man's table and watched the people walking around, hoping to regain a sense of control after being indirectly rejected like that by Herblord. At several different tables nearby, Matthew spotted a group of adventurers with red and blue clothes. They were a familiar group that he had seen before when he was still taking quests with his second adventurer party where he got the inspiration to have a purple and yellow outfit theme. This was why his current Shadow Assassin Outfit was these two colors. Anyway, this red-and-blue party looked different from before, having shinier armor and more larger staffs and sticks. He wondered if bigger was better when it came to equipment and magic, but that answer wouldn't come until later. He returned his attention to the older man, making a few statements about the weather and then asking about his thoughts on the current political climate. It was a smooth transition in his opinion. The older man was not quick to express disdain, but he did openly disapprove of the new policies of a certain far away city-state. He said that the attack of something called "the Just" led to certain changes that impacted not only domestic policies but also foreign policies. This led to restrictions and barriers to trade, merchant ventures, and foreign ownership. Matthew was confused. He understood the need to be aware of politics, but he didn't actually understand why people took it seriously. He preferred focusing on studying things that didn't intersect conversationally with politics. He only talked about politics to pass the time, and he didn't actually spend that much effort into it at all. If people told him to support something, he would support it. Many things appealed to him, and it was hard to find something that was truly outside of his avenue. He always found himself on the side of many different people. It was just that he never really felt the need to go for extreme changes immediately. The only time he would care about politics was if it brought food to the table, and that statement could be interpreted a million different ways. In the end, he felt that it was not his responsibility to represent the nation on certain issues. He preferred to live a life where he had hobbies and lived a simple life. This was why his motivations were strictly personal and familial rather than national, cultural, or political. He did believe in certain values resembling political ones, but in his view, they didn't manifest as political actions, even if, arguably, any intentional action to bring about change could be construed as political (praxis; bios politikos). The older man brought exotic food to the table through politics, having challenged him and brought attention to aspects he had dismissed in favor of more pragmatic and personal fulfillment. But Matthew was here for different reasons, but with the new context laid down, he didn't want to pretend that the older man didn't see things a certain way. So in order to speak to the man's heart, he had to take into account his stranger inclinations. After speaking with the older man for a while, he asked about the disgusting man, having never addressed this for a long time to his friends. It was challenging for him to speak about something that made him so vulnerable, given that he had established himself initially as young, reliable, and reasonably priced. This was why the older man, having done something to him that he couldn't comprehend alone, was the perfect candidate to discuss the disgusting man. The older man said: "The 'disgusting' man? I think I know him. The portal weaver, called to this earth by a legion of angels. His presence here in unhindered, and he only looks for flesh. Fleshling monsters abide by his word, diligently reaching into the world to control the powers from within. The disgusting man you're speaking of must be that man. The Portal Weaver." Matthew didn't understand why the older man took the time to give a more poetic explanation, but he accepted it. Soon enough, the older man got tired of sitting down and talking, so he left. At that time, Matthew quickly headed around the city, locating more guests to accompany his curiosity. He headed to the guild, identifying himself as a warder, but some adventurers who knew him openly showed concern about this new decision. He told them that he wanted to focus on slow integration first, emphasizing the phrase "getting used to things." At his first quest in a while in this city, he found out that he didn't have to do much. The adventurers he had partied with were of a different caliber than usual. They swiftly eradicated a camp of goblins. It was like pan-heated butter being sliced. Sooner or later, he checked his stats, gaining some experience. Name: Matthew Cruz Level: 48 Current experience: 103 Species: Human Age: 25 Skills: [Whirlwind Waltz], [Cattle Decapitation], [Solipsistic Slaughter] Spells: None / None Vitality: 15 Quests: [Bridge of Knowledge] Titles: [Goblin Slayer], [Skeleton Slayer], [Overlord's Gifted] Unused stat points: 247.2 Attack Damage🪓: 75 Ability Power🔥: 27 Armor🛡️: 57 Magic Resistance🚫: 60 Health🗿: 906 Mana💧: 311 Mana regeneration💧 (per 10 minutes): 7 He hadn't used his stat points even now. The past week was troubling. He wondered if the stat points would go down overtime if he didn't use it. He had to be careful because something could happen. The quests he left unfinished recently had not punished him. But sooner or later, this habit of delaying tasks would come back to bite him. Ultimately, with how many unused points he had and his current progress, he was content at the moment.Chapter 40 - The Solo Dungeon Raid
A bunch of curious children noticed a figure in the distance. This figure, a man, stared upward, his eyes closed, his hair nicely messy. His outfit was much simpler but still elegant. He wore a golden coat over a purple tunic with a large, wide collar. He wore a golden cloth wrap around his waist to hold his tunic, and his posture was that of a elegant man demonstrating superiority. His left hand was outstretched and palm-up in an enlightened manner. His right arm was much lower and more tucked in, but still carried that tone of the phrase 'This is enlightenment." His background featured artistically abstract colors of brown, white, and other earthier background-friendly tones of yellow and purple, and his yellow cloak blended abstractly with the background. He gritted his teeth and exploded into a dance, making his way down the street. "I lost my goblin friends! I did! I killed them myself!" he said. The children were scared, distancing themselves from him. The man was Matthew, having stressed himself again after pushing himself and staying up to stay in contact with a list of people. He was expressing all of that stress in the form of excitement. The good thing was that he found a place where he could be alone. But the feeling of vulnerability from being watched by the children only made him feel more empowered, deepening his sense of excitement. Each time he failed, it was as if the world was telling him that he was the one. It validated him, empowered him, and gave him confidence and motivation. Each time he lost and people rejected him, he couldn't help but relish the experience because he knew that he would always bounce back. And he would come out stronger than before. The humiliation, fear, and helplessness made him unstoppable. He raised his hands and said, "I am only a human being, but look at this feeling inside of me! I feel that I can express myself freely! I am unhindered by emotions! In fact, I am even more stronger due to them. Inside me is an all-consuming fire! Anything that should have destroyed have only left me appreciating life more!" He was headed to a dungeon. When he arrived there, he was greeted by a host of goblin miners, who found his likeness horrid to look at. The purple and yellow colors gave them the creeps. It looked like an uncanny creature. Matthew used his skill [Whirlwind Waltz], crushing the goblins even more immediately than when that skill was only level 1. Now, it was level 8, having increased in range and duration of stun. He beat the first one that approached unstrategically to shreds with a spear, pulling them by their head aside. Well done on vanquishing the armored goblin! Your valor has granted you 42+ XP, marking a significant milestone in your journey! 🎉 Additionally, you've been bestowed with a temporary boost of +2 strength, courtesy of the city-wide enhancement known as the [Strength Beacon]. Embrace this newfound power as you continue your adventures! Retreating from the coming armored goblins, Matthew was surprise. Once outside, he looked around at the forest within the bounds of the city, using [Cattle Decapitation] at the coming goblins to make them hesitate before casting [Solipsistic Slaughter] to bring them to low health and then making rapid holes in them. Fantastic work vanquishing 5 formidable armored goblins! You've acquired a commendable 100+ XP for your valor! 🏆 You have also gained +10 temporary strength as part of the city-wide effect [Strength Beacon]! Troubled by the 100-XP limit, he ignored it for the meantime and identified [Strength Beacon] with the [System]'s help. [Strength Beacon] affects all citizens with the potential to gain strength through eliminating enemies and engaging in acts of kindness. With time, this strength increase could reach up to 10 maximum strength for each elimination or act of kindness. This strength decays by 2 every 10 days of non-activity. At the moment, Matthew stretched his neck. Furthermore, he saw several unarmored goblins and, when they came within range, targeted them individually several times while dodging and smacking them like a brute before kicking them when they were down with a brutal intent. The goblins, screaming, fell apart in formation, taking off deeper into the dungeon. Matthew roared, his voice carrying waves and creating effect upon the goblins' sense of confidence. Reaching their limits of fear, the goblins squealed, their voices like children making their way through a giant man's cave. Matthew stood, beholding his bare hands. Goblin blood savored the dungeon floor. Licking his lips, he went further inside, his smile growing Another group of goblins saw him, retreating as soon as they could. They already knew of his strength. "The Witchman had returned to claim his loot!" said a goblin elder leading the group, shuffling away, hurriedly looking for something from the assemblage of chests, containers, and piles present. The shadow of Matthew stretched, overshadowing some of the goblins, who soon fell standing at the massacring blades of the lavishing Matthew. He crushed a stoic wall of goblin laborers. The goblins grew rageful. "How dare you!" repeatedly danced upon their lips. The light lost its strength, Mark's shadowed edifice presenting itself with his spear, ousting the gleam. He used his spear incorrectly to demonstrate that whatever made sense made sense. He crushed their forcefulness. The goblins retreated on all fours. The goblin elder felt a sharp bleeding upon his cheek. The Witchman had hurt him. He shook, trembling away, before falling to the ground, as Matthew's darkened figure had extended its grip upon him. He screamed, as he was abruptly tortured to passing. Matthew moved forward. Upon his figure, various movements created a borderline cosmically beastly form. He moved indirectly in an elegant manner. The goblins disappeared around the corner. Matthew dashed. The goblins prepared something special for him with the help of the elder's secret items. Potions flew. Matthew got hit, flying backward. The goblins' distraught expressions grew still. They walked up, shuffling, sauntering up to their feet. Some crawled away. Some got up with their faces and temples covered. Matthew got up, his motion angelic and ethereal. The goblins gritted their teeth and fled, their pride deteriorating. They pointed at Matthew, arguing amongst each other. "We must kill the beast!" they soon said in unison. They armed themselves and kicked themselves forward, waging a war against the heavenly presence. The words flew to a silence, and the swords crafted their formations, reified under the night sky of the cave ceiling. They battled. Matthew getting hit several times. The battle grew intense. Soon, Matthew fell apart. But the dead faces of the goblins decorated the floor. Matthew abruptly healed himself and got up. "I cannot die..." His form grew slightly bigger because he placed points into [Health]. He stretched his neck and moved forward. The cave grew only deeper, and the dungeon grew only more interconnected and networked. The running operation continued to hum, as the shadow of Matthew stretched deeper inside—a foreign body sparking light in an internal system. The first assortment of goblins working inside didn't notice him quickly, having sunk into a deep focus. The dungeon was soundproofed, and it was hard to hear even the screams of their co-workers and brothers and sisters. In the end, they continued, even while the shadowy form in the darkness grew closer. The silence grew intensified. Matthew struck like a child touching a dew-covered a plant's network of leaves, destroying its watery stasis. Explosions upon explosions of flesh and blood made a mark. The goblins saw the monster. They ran, grabbing their things. Those who didn't escaped. Those who did were caught. The voices were endless. They rapidly closed the doors and gates, running through the hallways and tunnels, gathering in sweet hot spots where they at least had most of their combat resources at their disposal. Matthew was nowhere to be seen, but they were sure they could stop him with enough teamwork, diligence, and strategy. No one had gone this deep without some form of coalition beforehand. So they hadn't prepared for a single entity. The world was going to hear of this. It was only inevitable. The time would stop to make way for a new era of goblin operations. The light was still bright. One of the goblins thought that. He waited for his body to relax, having forgotten to sit on his haunches for a while now. He had been a chair-sitter for months now after being assigned here. He wondered how long they had to wait before the adventurer was removed. The goblin reinforcements were already on their way. They just had to wait and be patient. As long as they obeyed the rules and committed to their work, everything would be alright. He remembered when he had a funny interaction with the co-workers he was closest to here. It was nice remembering that with how scary this situation was. Many people hadn't lasted this long, but he did. And he was happy to be here in this kind of workplace, even if it was dangerous and could be life-threatening at times, as long as he abided by his beliefs. He believed that every child, whether human or goblin, deserved to live peacefully. But he had to protect his own here. He stood up and prepared himself, grabbing a spear that he had snucked in here. He hid in a specific compartment, but it was somewhere far away, where the adventurer certainly was. So he had to be careful. Disobeying the orders given to him, he took a risk, coming out. In the hallway, he noticed many bodies on the ground, his throat retching. He didn't want to die, but he had to take this chance. He slowly walked, finding several weapons. He grabbed them immediately. He went back, showing them to the others. They shouted at him. He told them to shush, saying that they had to prepare before they faced the adventurer. Though, he added that the soldiers were already here most likely. He said that that was only if they had to fight the adventurer. If they didn't have to, it would suck a little not to have a taste of combat, but it was fine too. The adventurer struck him from behind. Matthew waited for him to finish, seeing the shouting and the ignorance of the goblin present. The goblins' bloody screams irritated him, as he was in a dangerous situation himself. He stopped them and then went on his way. Meanwhile, the dead bodies of the goblins who had been screaming littered the floor of the room they were in. Returning to Matthew, his head ached. "Why were they so unprepared?" he said, feeling troubled by how easy it was. Was he that strong? The goblin soldier reinforcements arrived, shooting arrows at him. He ran. "Damn it." One of the arrows brushed past him, injuring him. "Damn, these are good arrows. When and where did they them?" He retreated outside the cave. The goblins, distraught, stared at the waste. Matthew returned to his cottage, relaxing on a seat, his eyes closing to make room for contemplation. If he had been more prepared, maybe he would not get injured as much. He was trying to optimize his strategy and methodology for later. So he brainstormed for a while before falling asleep. Later, while he was sleeping, his fellow adventurers arrived at his cottage, their forms silent and still. When he woke up, they were gone, and he found that his body was bandaged, even if he was sure that he was already healed. He also thought that if someone helped him, they could have just healed him. The bandages showed up in a notification. [You have been given a new item!] It was the reward given by the guild for vanquishing the goblin system within the dungeon he had entered the day before. He was glad to hear that they were happy about it, having only done it out of instinct and impulse. If he had really wanted to plan, he could have done it. But he just followed his thoughts at the time. Now, he looked at the bandages, finding that they were nicely made. The texture was smooth, and it felt expensive. These were not regular cloth, and they clearly were made for more than just dealing with wounds. He could tell that they were enchanted. The fact that they went to his cottage bothered him though. Maybe, they were that surprised to hear that he had done something on his own, being someone who always joined parties. He didn't know for sure, so he decided to go the guild. But first, he would eat his favorite food, sopas. He checked Drakekiller Rollingthunder, setting up a meeting with her through the former guild leader of the now-defunct second adventurer guild. It was a formality since he didn't want to bother her, considering her weird tendencies. Eventually, at Drakekiller's cottage, he smiled, appreciating Drakekiller's comfortable place. In the end, this new path was a satisfying break after the solo dungeon raid the day before.Chapter 41 - Strategic Triumphs and Tactical Frustrations
After taking the time to clarify past events and interactions and reset their rapport to a clear and clean slate, Matthew left, contacting Tamer for a quest. Within the general bounds of this given region, quests never gave skill manuscripts, orbs, items, and equipment, but they did hand out Damian gold coins as a reward. It financed Matthew's adventurer activities—even those occasions where he only declared that he would be taking on a quest after the fact—with impunity, even if it might have involved goblin killings. Matthew's independence scored a lot of points now that he was more capable, considering he now had the enchanted bandages item given to him personally as part of a joint effort led by Desmond Leroy's subordinates. The guild employed officers from among Desmond Leroy's peers and seniors, so Matthew's attention to professional care as an adventurer was pivotal in determining his standing, in the rankings especially. For context, the determining factor behind this reputation system was primarily social (and often political) reputation, though adventurer competence was predictive of it. This was why he had to move forward, because even as a rookie, he wielded great power in the form of potential. After meeting Tamer and her current adventurer party's roster, they immediately headed to a quest. Several goblins appeared in the distance, flying with their wings, shooting and running backward in repetitive motion. Matthew pointed at the hills around them and the river flanking them. "Be careful. We might get choked here. Let's stay here, slowly moving to get a better view. In fact, let's back off, the forest is behind us, and this clearing only leaves us vulnerable. The road to our right leads to a larger area, but it's a large forest. That should be good if we're planning to retreat, but we also cannot guarantee if they had prepared sufficiently for it. Moreover, it goes in the same cardinal direction as where the winged goblins are headed. Let's focus on moving away as far as possible, moving backward where we've guaranteed control." Tamer nodded, emphasizing to her party members to follow Matthew's lead. While heading back, various long-ranged skill projectiles flew in their direction from the far left, but they were mostly probing shots to check Matthew's team's vigilance during a strategic retreat. Afterwards, the winged goblins regained full control of the clearing; not having to contest with Matthew's party for the road entry point. Matthew continued, "Let's keep a wide angle to prevent the enemies from collapsing on us. But make sure we don't stretch too wide that we cannot line up and charge one of the enemies' flanks to get out of a collapse motion." Tamer reinforced Matthew's concepts to the members, paraphrasing. The enemies began moving and accumulating at the clearing, confident that could bait Matthew's party in. But in case that didn't happen, their goal anyway was to keep this objective secure. They didn't have to force fights. They just needed to wait until one of Matthew's members got caught. They had a lot of numbers, so they would focus their forces around in order to attack from behind. He already predicted where Matthew's forces would end up and had the rear-attacking team head there to catch them off guard. Matthew's forces quickly re-arranged themselves however, moving backward as much as they could to regain control and vision. They didn't want to loosen up, so if their enemy was confident in their attack, they would reveal themselves. But for now, Matthew wanted to focus on catching the first wave of enemies with the goal of baiting the rest of the enemies to reveal themselves. However, if the enemy knew that plan, they would keep hiding. It was strategic straffing game. The enemies continued down from the clearing, their main force centering from this direction. Matthew already knew and felt the pressure coming to them, seeing the members of his party grow nervous as the trees began to rustle from the clearing's direction. He didn't want to throw stray shots and miss, so he kept his skills off cooldown. One of the members had a low-cooldown spell that offered a wide area-of-effect attack that could be used to prod for vision and poke enemies over a cone. So he stayed closest to the clearing to gather information and keep the enemy guessing, hiding, and dodging fire. This slowed them down. Matthew noticed that one of his members were drifting too far, so he beckoned him back. Another member straffed too far, after one of the enemies shot a long-range skill at him. The member dodged, but he put himself to a vulnerable position surrounded by blind spots. Matthew immediately moved his troops that way, pressing the flank, predicting an enemy collapse from that direction. He was right. An ambush from various thickets and vegetation emerged to catch the member off guard. But Matthew immediately had the healers and shielders protecting him. He also motioned the low-cooldown–spell member to keep applying fake pressure to keep the main enemy force guessing, while his team collapsed on the ambush force. The ambush force was strong, being members with the competence to handle a large group. But since the main enemy force was still careful, they didn't get too much. The canopies were especially thick as well, and even if the goblins operated via the air, it was impossible for them to move without rainforest obstructions. In the end, Matthew's team rotated immediately, commanding his team to move forward toward the main enemy force and let out loud screams of alarm to match the reaction they would had if the ambush truly caught them off guard. This baited the main enemy force to enter, while Matthew secured the high ground, killing them off one by one, since the main force entered in a hurry to collapse. Soon enough, Matthew's team succeeded, but they still were not yet done. They moved forward, keeping their focus on the trees and the flanks. The back was already much secure, and the large force was eliminated. So they focused on moving quickly to the clearing and keeping quiet in case more enemies were still there. When they arrived at the edges of the clearing and saw it was empty, they moved forward, climbing the hill flanking the road to the right and the river to the left. They moved forward. Their next priorities were establishing a foothold on this initial hill, which meant delegating control over the road entry point and a little over the edges of the clearing. Certainly, having his members consolidated sounded easier, but if the enemies continued to press the same strategies of a rear–flank attack like they did a while ago with their main force entering in to collapse after the fact, then at least he mitigated that risk. With his main team advancing, he pointed out various various hiding spots in the form of gullies, vegetation, trees, knolls, and minor slopes with 3-meter sharp dirt faces. This was a congested jungle, but certain paths indicated regular traffic through this area from various directions. They spread out horizontally, keeping their front unmarched because of the threat moving in a line posed in such an area. They kept spreading out, relying on the secured area at their far rear with the three members in the clearing. After clearing the area and establishing vision and control, they slowed down and stayed, watching. After several minutes, Matthew shot-called for the three members in the clearing to come and watch this cleared area instead to keep their changing flanks actively secure as they advanced. When they entered the front they avoided earlier, Matthew told the team to be trigger-ready in case one of the enemies appeared. After hearing a shuffle, one of the members began shooting at all the hiding spots. This was reactive, and it wasn't productive, only warning the enemy of their position. In the distance, various long-range projectiles shot precisely in their direction, the sound of the member's shots having facilitated this aim. Matthew called for a retreat, as a single individual from the enemy team charged, tanking all the skills thrown at her. All the other enemies accompanied this individual, "riding" along and using her as a hammer forward. The individual was too fast, so Matthew immediately got his team to dodge sideways. The individual kept charging after missing, but she stopped soon after, now covering their rear. Matthew's team had been separated into two flanks, but because he had three high-damage area-of-effect skills [Solipsistic Slaughter], he told his team to charge the rest of the enemies and ignore the tank. They first regrouped and then charged, collapsing on the enemies while the tank tried to catch up. Matthew used all his skills. His teammates were mostly fighters with one-vs-one competence, even the healers and shielders, with some expections like the low-cooldown–skill member. The enemies were swiftly repeated to shreds, while the tank failed to catch up. His back-to-front strategy as a tank failed. In the end, his fragile-bodied backline was ripped to shreds, having relied solely on the tank "taunting" the enemy team to distract while his backline shot from the newly emerged rear. Matthew punished this efficiently with his skills, notably having weakened the backline's armor and magic resistance by 20 with [Cattle Decapitation]. With the backline defeated, they turned to the now-useless frontline tank. With that victory secured, they rested first before covering the various strategic points of the area and creating a nice playground for them to bait enemies into. But they were exhausted, low on health, low on mana, and had barely any of their ultimate skills. They returned home. Tamer was impressed, celebrating the victory at the guild. They were now more respected members of the guild with their newfound importance in the region strategically. This victory over the area, albeit small, placed a dent to the enemy's plannings. If the rankings and the guild gave them an honorable mention somehow, they would accept it with pride. She was most glad about Matthew's shot-calling and committed leadership throughout the whole process, despite the lack of communication previously had between her and the team. Even if the team hadn't practiced and trained much together, Matthew's decisiveness secured them the win twice in both fights. This was the epitome of grace and beauty. If Matthew had used his skills out of timing, they would have lost the final battle, so she was glad that despite the lack of information, Matthew was now a much more confident risk taker, being more aware and adaptable with respect to his enemy's strengths and capacity to take damage. Matthew focused his attention on skills and treading the path of leveling carefully. With his victory empowering him, he grabbed 10, a portion of his levels, and placed it into a new blade—a ghost blade, that which dealt necrotic damage similar to Michel. This blade came from her actually; furthermore, she mentioned that it would offer him a big discount with levels since it relied more on killing enemies rather than the experience gained from them. Basically, it was a cheap, broken item. Matthew looked at the edged blade he now had in his palm, having being gifted it by Michel in a package. He placed it again into the package to showcase to her. When they met, Tamer and Michel were quick to celebrate their progress as a party, now thinking of color themes, insignia, and banners. It was a celebratory mood, and Matthew didn't want to mention the deaths of some of the members. Some of the members did indeed die, but Tamer was more so focused on their victory to care about it. Matthew shook his head and focused on their victory. Even if people died, he could die as well. So why was it advisable for him to grieve when he could smile with their spirits clanging triumphantly within him? When Matthew showed the blade, Tamer immediately had her goblin touch it in case. Newly enchanted blades had a chance of making the first creature that touched it bleed from the hand. So she was careful about this. After Michel saw it, she rushed to explain that the ghost blade had to be used once a week—something she didn't say before. Matthew squinted with disappointment, but he nodded, recognizing that he didn't actually tell her that he would buy it. After so long, he got excited all of a sudden. Maybe, it was an impulsive buy, but he wasn't going to let this day of using his levels finally be a let-down. He went to a nearby dungeon to test his new blade.Chapter 42 - The Ghost Blade's Legacy and Strategic Insights
At the dungeon, he slashed a goblin to the ground in a series of attacks that kept it displaced and unable to summon up a counter-attack. He demolished it. For context, his swords and spears usually only added around 25 to 40 damage, and this ghost blade was almost no different, topping out at 60 damage. But it also included an active skill and a passive skill. The [System], grinning behind the scenes, showed him the blade in [System] form as requested. Name: Michel's Ghost Blade Stats: +60 Attack Damage Passive - Necrotic Affliction: Basic attacks apply a stack of Necrotic Affliction to the target for 4 seconds, stacking up to 5 times. Each stack reduces the target's armor and magic resistance by 2%. At maximum stacks, the target is also afflicted with Grievous Wounds, reducing incoming healing and regeneration effects by 40%. Active - Necrotic Surge: Empower your next basic attack within 5 seconds to unleash a necrotic-infused strike, dealing 50 (+40% bonus AD) bonus physical damage and consuming all stacks of Necrotic Affliction. Each stack consumed increases the damage by 20% and extends the duration of Grievous Wounds by 1 second, up to a maximum of 3 additional seconds. Before the fight with Tamer, he already had placed his points into [Health]. He gained only a total of 200 XP from the two fights with her. This would be his stats after the fight with Tamer if he didn't place his stats before the fight. Name: Matthew Cruz Level: 49 Current experience: 29 Species: Human Age: 25 Skills: [Whirlwind Waltz], [Cattle Decapitation], [Solipsistic Slaughter] Spells: None / None Vitality: 15 Quests: [Bridge of Knowledge] Titles: [Goblin Slayer], [Skeleton Slayer], [Overlord's Gifted] Unused stat points: 302.2 Attack Damage🪓: 85 + (10 from [Strength Beacon]) Ability Power🔥: 27 Armor🛡️: 57 Magic Resistance🚫: 60 Health🗿: 906 Mana💧: 311 Mana regeneration💧 (per 10 minutes): 7 But that wasn't the case. He used up 54.6 stat points on mana to get 39 more mana and reach a total of 350 mana since the mana cost of his three skills combined was 350. He didn't want to rely on mana potions anymore, considering he spent so much gold buying them. Anyway, 54.6 cut down his 247.2 to 192.6, which he sunk into health, gaining 223 more health and reaching a new total of 1129 health, with 0.36 unused stat points remaining. Anyway, when it came to his [Attack Damage], which was interchangeable with [Strength] here, he had 145 attack aamage now with his ghost blade. Moreover, he had the [Goblin Slayer] title, which increased his damage against goblins by 12%. So his total damage in this case was 162.4 and could increase or decrease in terms of output depending on how well he slashed. So he shredded through generic goblin health in 3 hits or fewer, since they had around 500 health. Returning to reality, the next goblin in front of him stopped, raising its arms. "I'm not your common gob, please, don't kill me," it said. Matthew watched the goblin's mouth, but he couldn't comprehend what the goblin was saying. He could understand it, but for some reason, he couldn't "hear" it. Nothing in him decried goblin killing. In fact, he sliced and stabbed and crushed the goblin, ensuring that whatever he said next was in the afterlife. He didn't want to bother with any more goblins. But in the distance, the [System] saw his hand shaking, rubbing his head with displeasure. The next day, after he returned to the party, he taught Tamer about strategy and tactics, answering questions and getting her up to speed to an initial degree. As a result, she quickly summarized her findings from the day before, seeking to learn from him more and more. Having been with Matthew for a while, she picked up on the way he described things, using his terms and adding her own perspective as well. It began with the question: "What is the reason for the loss of the enemy team in the second fight?" She said: "It's likely that they were overconfident and overreliant on a list of things being true, basically a well-oiled machine. The issue was that their powerful strategy didn't make room for any mistakes, so as soon as they encountered a threat that adapted appropriately, they lost in a landslide. The fact that they can't just respawn like a wraith makes this even more severe, since they can't just learn that lesson and restart the fight again. They cannot perform well weak side basically, overreliant on early game strong side strategies. The fact that the main force in the fight before that did the same thing—lack of communication between ambush force and main enemy force. But the ambush force was also surprised, not taking into account the possibility that they could be detected. It was a very rewarding strategy, but it backfired so badly. Same super well-oiled machine." Even now, she still had the more casual side to her, amid her more poetic side: "What a splendid food we have today!" The fact that she had been a child bride for two years added a back face to her various aspects as a human being. Anyway, Matthew decried the loss opportunity to have the goblin enemies from the two fights fall under his leadership. He could have trained them, streamlining their strengths and trimming the impact of their weaknesses through his active direction. The cool tank was especially tempting. But imprisoning the goblins just wouldn't work: they were going to fighting to the death. It was sad, a lost opportunity. But loss would always be part of the journey really. Though he added to the conversation, using his past experience playing League of Lagands among the top 500 in his region even while being a top academic performer: "It makes sense. In League of Lagends, one of the things new players do is get used to fighting certain match-ups, but it also depends on the skill level of the enemy players. If a new even better player emerges, then it's often a very quick loss where one has to limit test. That's how improvement happens in League of Lagends. Get used to one's champion pool, different matchups, team compositions, player skill levels, and weak side and strong side. But these goblins were not used to fighting very good enemies, having some strategy to some degree. But they probably don't have a diverse pool of strategies like a champion pool. They haven't gotten used to different match-ups likely that much. They haven't probably had the chance to train and fight other team compositions, considering the difference in power that adventurers had over goblins. They couldn't just practice with and watch adventurers to get better. They fought blind or avoided fighting. They didn't practice with different player skill levels both on the micro and the macro. They didn't get used to playing weak side, having relied on staying on top in the early game—relying on the first strike of the ambush and the first strike of the tank charging in and taunting the enemies with the backline shooting from the rear. In conclusion, the goblins were severely underprepared, while I had lots of personal experience in fighting goblins, all the goblins he fought dying or traumatized instead of learning from his micro fighting skills. The fact that I had gone on many different quests makes it even harder to goblins to gauge who the enemies are. They don't know about I had lots of experience tactically and as a solo fighter. So it makes all the sense why they lost." After finishing up the discussion with Tamer, he returned to the cottage to reflect. Eventually, he went to the adventurer guild where he could meet his friends for a dungeon raid. He imaged the cafe, the inn, the bazaar, and the various familiar places that he now called his home. He took a deep breath, sighting the various colors in the air and the way the trees swayed in the wind. The wind was strong, the sky was clear, and the air was hot. He was thirsty, so he drank from a pouch that he soon bought a refill. Meanwhile, at the guild, a familiar group of adventurers waited: a barbarian, a foot soldier, a red dwarf, an archer, an elven spearman, a beastman, and a bard. Additionally, their hushed voices in the echo of the guild lobby and various chagrins over various quests and obligations added to the adventurous, determined mood. He scheduled with them a multi-party event that included his friends. It was set two weeks from now. In the meantime, he visited all his friends one by one. He did the same thing he did with Drakekiller Rollingthunder. After taking the time to clarify past events and interactions and reset their rapport to a clear and clean slate, he left, heading to a blacksmith shop to have his equipment assessed. He had always delegated the obligation to handle weapons and equipment to procurement specialists during coalitions and had the young credentialed blacksmiths at the guild do maintenance repairs on his equipment. But now, he wanted to have a tailored evalution done on his stats, hoping to connect with a stats evaluator through the blacksmith. Rodney's team actually suggested to do this. Indeed, Tamer's book didn't really help him with stats, skills, magic. But it was interesting, so he kept it for now. With that said, when he finally got a meeting with a stats evaluation, he explained past events and the kinds of quests he had been on, getting a surprised "Wow" when he mentioned the two fights with Tamer's party. Now that the evaluator had context, he said: "You can try focusing on finding ways to strengthen your healing. Health is good, but healing is much more effective in the long term. However, increasing your ability power won't increase your healing, but if you continue to work with the [System] quests and focus on getting titles and other [System] mechanics, it will reward you. I suggest you focus on committing to [Bridge of Knowledge]. Since you excel in teamfights, I suggest you keep doing that. That should give you a team quest with a healing upgrade for a reward. Your solo adventuring is good too. Usually, you would put your stat points to armor since your enemies rely on physical damage, but you have [Overlord's Gifted]. So it's good that you're putting points into health. What I can add to that is to find stronger enemies with skills that you can kill since they give a skill point for each skill they had. That should allow you to experiment with your path much better." It wasn't advice that Matthew didn't already know. The only thing he didn't know was the healing part. But the fact that he confirmed that killing enemies did give a skill point for each skill they had made things a little complicated. Almost all the goblins he encountered didn't give skill points. So none of them had skills. And the only enemies that did give him skills in the past were human beings—the crazy "adventurers" that tortured him. Anyway, because of the evaluator's statements, he decided to visit a more difficult dungeon, one situated much lower. The lower the dungeon was in terms of elevation, the more challenging the enemies were. So he gathered Tamer's party again. The roster had completely changed except for Tamer, and now it was a new set of individuals whom Matthew had to learn how to adapt to. They were heading on a dungeon raid, but it wasn't a quest. So what they would do was purely for adventuring, leveling, and testing the waters. If this failed, then they would have to make sure they escaped. In the end, these lower dungeons were much easier to monitor since they were often in low-lying, high-risk, flood-prone areas. So monsters that escaped to the surface were often assaulted by the elements. However, they could still leak out, which made their presence a threat to those living nearby. The good thing was that they were uncoordinated, which made them easy to pick off one by one for stronger adventurer parties. This was why Matthew and Tamer's party were not alone here in this new area, outside of the beginner zones.Chapter 43 - Expanding Horizons
At the entrance of one of the harder dungeons—and this was after Matthew had liquified the loot from the previous quest with Tamer's party—he brought a lot of mana potions and barrels full of holy water. Tamer stared at the dungeon, and she nodded, using her [Break Barrel]. They threw the barrel one by one. The monsters dodged them easily, surfacing immediately. Matthew abandoned the plan and retreated home. Tamer's skill [Marching Tire], which slowed enemies by 20% for 2 seconds, helped them escape. They had planned to kill the monsters without direct interaction with Tamer's skill. But it failed miserably. Moreover, none of the new roster members had a ranged skill. Instead of returning to the dungeon, they moved their focus to the scheduled dungeon quest with the seven adventurers. For now, however, they went to the market. Hauberks, shields, helms, brassairts, vambraces, gauntlets, gambesons, cuisses, greaves, and sollerets were offered at the stalls within the marketplace. Moreover, they included red potions, blue potions, one-use spell manuscripts, But they also offered specialized fortification making service—basically spike-makers at duty, using agility and high precision. After seeing this well-rounded assortment, Matthew realized that his pattern of adventuring was too narrow. While he might be collaborating with all kinds of adventurers, it would be good to expand his interests beyond this bubble. Though, fixing up connections could be difficult, especially since many people were challenging to work with. His current friends, especially, were difficult to get moving around: they had their own goals, priorities, and cycles. In the end, if he wanted to move forward, it would be good to integrate further into the guild and establish a stronger presence with its partners. So he set up a meeting with Rodney and Desmond. Both had a vested interest in keeping a strong clasp on him. At the meeting, he declared a list of priorities he had in mind, that being setting up various different dungeon coalitions in order to help detect monsters roaming around the region. Rodney immediately informed him that warders specialized in keeping vision over the region were already doing that. Desmond added that these specialized warders collaborated with monster wardens, those who ensured careful management toward sustainability over dungeons. Matthew was surprised, since he only learned that now. Even now, having lived here for almost five months, it felt like he still didn't understand anything, and it was only due to the [System]'s help that he was able to excel this much. But the [System] was unreliable; for instance, he still remembered the time the [System] nerfed [Whirlwind Waltz]. But it didn't make too much of a difference, or at least that was what he wanted to say. Anyway, Matthew decided now would be a good time to clarify things about the world. He asked if there was a magical green hue that might teleport people, since that was the one that transported him here to this world. Rodney and Desmond said they didn't know, shaking his head with a concerned look. It was rare for them to be given a question they didn't know. In addition, when it did happen, usually it was because it involved entities from beyond this region. He also asked whether goblins could spawn with hidden, dangerous attributes. Rodney said that it was very rare, adding it was safer to pretend to see goblins as they were on the surface. To explain, he said, "Goblins who do end up showing hidden, dangerous attributes usually get moved away to carry out more larger tasks. And currently, the goblins right now that you see are fodder enemies because of the natural stalement between them and humans. In the end, no matter raiding a few dungeons won't magically make them disappear. They hide and crawl within the lands like insurgents." Matthew raised his brows, holding his chair tightly. "Why did the [System] weaken my first skill?" It was Rodney and Desmond's turn to stare wide-eyed. "What do you mean?" Rodney said, regaining his composure. "I've never heard of that before." "He talks to me frequently, appearing in a human form," Matthew described. Desmond never regained his composure. "What do you mean?" he said, keeping his voice low. Matthew froze, throwing a 1000-yard stare at the surface of the table. "I didn't know..." he said, his voice toneless. Desmond saw Rodney's expression before he composed himself. "What is it—when did it start?" Matthew said that it was some time after he first came to the city. Desmond leaned back onto his chair after having pulled himself forward. Rodney continued to sit politely, but a drop of sweat was already traversing down the side of his face. The silence went on for a while. "Is he...?" Desmond glanced around. Matthew nodded, confirming that the [System] was behind him. The [System], having followed Matthew all this time since their last conversation, was levitating in the air, his arms crossed, wearing a smirk. Matthew's distraught eyes contrasted the looming presence the [System] had long established. Desmond and Rodney were the spectators. But they soon got to work, heading to a communication device called an impisces. They soon reached their hubs and reported Matthew's condition, one of the people they contacted being a person called "Bishop Dan." Afterward, they returned to their seat, waiting for Matthew to say any more. Matthew asked what the goblin list that he heard when he first came here was. Talking about the [System] reminded him of how weak he used to be. He glanced at a farmer coming into the cafe and saw him holding a harvesting scepter that he soon tucked into a tailored bag. Matthew saw the various versions of himself flash through his mind. Several days later, at the guild, after a short discussion with the adventurers, Matthew smiled and followed them to a dungeon alongside Tamer's party. In the meantime, he wanted to distract himself, even while feeling like a captive. It was a dungeon steps meshed with an outpost and a cave leading underground. It was a complex structural assortment, but it served as a way to navigate this particularly steep place reliant on bridges and staircases for traffic. Numerous travelers passed through here, those who would have gone to the second city Matthew had visited if their destination lay in that direction. Even here, numerous people took advantage of this place as a waypoint within the city and set up stalls on the sides. Looking over the bridges and cliffs led Matthew to see the various houses and building strewn the lower montane land. Eventually, they entered a second dungeon steps a long distance away from the first one. The way to the steps was guarded and heavily fortified with many goblins positioned at a camp. Matthew's team immediately set up camp as well in close proximity. It was a place of narrow terrain with little paths and only one clearing leading to the steps itself. The steps was surrounded by large, sloping forests. The fortifications of the goblins came first in the form of spikes arranged in a line and pointed forward diagonally to block cavalry charges—cheval de frise. But cavalry was atypical because adventurers were often going through dense jungle. Ultimately, the goblins were highly prepared. The fortifications came second and third as trenches and arranged branches with sharpened ends facing forward. These trenches were also littered with stakes and other sharpened objectives. Even if the terrain was only slightly bumpy, the goblins were also situated behind a knoll, so a palisade line effectively blocked the way to the steps. The adventurers could go around another way, but it was mountainous and would slow them down a lot. This gave the goblins plenty of time. In the end, Matthew was only here to harass the enemy and test their defences. He contacted the guild and requested for the proposed coalition that he told Rodney, Desmond, and the guild two days ago. Soon, Matthew watched the distance, as the rain poured. The muddy terrain would make it impossible for them. He decided to leave, but one of the adventurers informed him that the smaller dungeon steps nearby was ripe for the taking, as many of the goblins had gone here. When the coalition that Matthew requested arrived, it wasn't that many, but it was enough to give the illusion of a larger force here at this camp. So Matthew, the seven adventurers, and Tamer's party detached from the main force and moved toward the smaller dungeon steps. It was undefended, so he immediately went up the steps. Once there, he saw that this one had holes leading inside. It was more like an ant hill than a staircase. Moreover, it was a vertical drop from the surface of the dungeon steps where the adventurers were to the inside. A group of goblins emerged under the holes. Accompanying them were giant ants. They had tamed these creatures, but they hated the light. So they beckoned the adventurers inside, even if it was an obvious bait. The adventurers kept their distance, maintaining the stalemate. Matthew directed the archers to shoot in a volley. The goblins got hit, many of them dying, but they soon hastily and clumsily got their shields up. It was an arrogant gesture in the first place. Matthew noticed that one of the goblins was coughing. In the end, he motioned for a bow to shoot at it, but a shield blocked the arrow. The goblin soon fell to the ground. It lay still, breathing weakly. Matthew raised his brow. "What strategic value did this give?" he said. Matthew had not tamed a shield yet, but he knew that the mages could easily break it. So he got several mages to toss heavy attacks like catapults and flamethrowers. The mantlet shields were more durable than he thought. In fact, if the goblins were smart, they probably held them so conceitedly because they wanted to bait the mages to waste their spells. Ultimately, Matthew might have made a mistake, leaving the skills of those several mages on cooldown. He declared, "It's going to be a slow game today guys. Let's rest for now." The goblins placed awkwardly a ward and retreated. Matthew saw that this dungeon was fortified inside. Since his team had the high ground advantage, instead of greeding, the adventurers immediately knew to get comfortable and prepare for monsters to probe and attack from outside the steps. This was an objective, so it was up to Matthew to defend it and affix it further. The good thing was that even without a more formal coalition, Matthew's presence here was very rewarding and confident. Though, much of it would be fake pressure if the monsters really rallied their troops and mobilized effectively without taking consequences in the rest of the monster-human war, they would stomp his team out. In the end, if Matthew's team succeeded, the monsters would be zoned out and forced to contest this objective or rotate around to other objectives. If they were less organized, they would just run around and look uselessly for fights with little concern for secondary routes of advance. In addition, the only other two dungeon steps available nearby included the first one that Matthew visited earlier before coming here. Matthew was banking on the fact that goblins were bad at the game. So the goblins might have baited him. However, he was the one baiting them now to fight under two illusions: that he could enter into the dungeon steps and completely eliminate the goblins inside, and, two, that they could successfully collapse on them from two prongs because that was where Matthew had an advantage. Certainly, if they did so, he would immediately sweep them—both the outside forces and the forces inside the steps. In contrast, as mentioned earlier, if the monsters gathered enough troops, Matthew would lose. In order to make the enemies inside the steps believe they were too strong to fight, he and his team began entering the holes, charging at the goblins. The goblins retreated further inside, escaping through holes that led outside. Matthew was right. The goblins, if sufficiently scared, would retreat even if they held the advantage. Though, he wondered if his menacing reputation had an impact here. In the end, the outside forces didn't attack, running back to their other objectives. With the dungeon steps conquered, he stretched out back to the dungeon steps with the human outpost, easily finding purchase onto the city authority. This and the camp would create two prongs of pressure against the first fortified dungeon steps, the one he left earlier to attack this one. They would also act as staging grounds for projections of power. Finally, Matthew returned home, eating and drinking with his fellow adventures to celebrate. The resources expended were many, but this also alleviated some pressure on other fronts of the monster-human war that had gone on for millennia. Matthew's next goal was to return to the simple things, so he decided to return to square one, visiting the beginner areas. He wore a mask and removed his familiar purple and yellow outfit, opting for brown and white. He disappeared into the masses.Chapter 44 - Echoes of Redemption: The Mask Unveiled
So Matthew was left alone, and he entered into the land of beginners. When he came to his senses, he said, "I realize now that I am alive." From there, he entered into a cave, finding himself enraptured by the sights. As he neared the Fourth Ring, suddenly a light from heaven flashed around him. The goblins went up out of hiding ready for battle. When the goblins reached the edge of his range, he slashed them with Michel's Ghost Blade. He moved as if he was levitating, creating waves across the cave floor. And it came to pass, when Matthew had ended these sayings, the goblins were astonished at his words, for he taught them as one that had authority, and not as the adventurers. As cold waters to a thirsty soul, the goblins were filled with wonder and amazement at that which had struck them. And they fell at his feet as dead; and every living soul died in this sea of goblins. Even without skills, his sword fighting prowess was growing; though, he always used his longer spear first to test out enemy positionings, rotations, and intentions. This could be used to create some initial playing ground, especially in a fight between 1 adventurer and 10 goblins. Then, once the movements of the goblins were carefully analyzed, using the sword would be much easier. Of course, since he was bad at the sword, cleaning up most of the more proactive goblins with the spear before using the sword was more effective. Similarly and more importantly, having battle experience as a warder, he placed wards on the way here to keep his rear within vision. Since he had vulnerable flanks and blindspots, he placed wards there too. But his wards were limited. In the end, this was how he cleared goblins systematically. Definitely, his bravado, grandiosity, and joint methodical operations overshadowed this. With his head space free from malice, he returned to where the beginners gathered outside the dungeons. In those dungeons, he had gone deep, and it was mostly empty. To elaborate on how horrid it was to watch the goblins fight, earlier, even if they were more than the baseline, the goblins that he killed were disorganized and barely functioning in terms of coordination and communication. First, one went in without waiting for the other. Second, one went in and took a life-taking risk for barely any reward. Three, they failed to synchronize their attacks and skills. Four, they neglected adapting to his more nuanced exchange of attacks. Five, they stayed still in order to get a more precise attack at him, which only left them practically one tap away from death. Six, out of reactivity, they attack when he's ready to respond and stay back when he's not. Seven, they separated, executing a flanking manuever with the main force remaining behind to keep an anchor, but the flanking force took needlessly long and winding paths. Eight, despite having separated, the reduced main force fought him anyway before the flank could rotate to the enemy's rear. It was hard to watch anyone with bad macro. There was practically no counter to bad macro. Heading into the main attraction of the land of beginners, Matthew came face to face with a beginner, who saw him emerge out of the dungeons. He glanced for a while, passing by. The beginner stared at him, wondering whether he was a beginner too. It didn't feel like the man wearing a mask was. Anyone who wore a mask was automatically someone with something to hide. To extend this idea to a broader topic, masks were only worn by immigrants who felt comfortable anonymous here. Moreover, masks were called "ID tags," because it was a clear sign that someone was an immigrant. Faces were distinct features that people took seriously, since monsters and their "ugly", "disgusting" faces prompted reflection into what determined humanness. And the face was the most prominent symbol of that. To tie this idea to the mask, the mask served as a way for immigrants to blend into the society in a way that didn't make their faces the target of the problem. Their foreign faces, as a symbol of humanness and potential monsterness due to how different they looked, were kept hidden and anonymous to have discrimination fall weakly toward the mask like an egg to a rock. Truly, since goblins and other humanoid monsters looked too similar to humans, people had to find a way to avoid thinking that goblins were humans. So the distinctness of the faces of foreign humans in their similarity to the interplay between goblin and human faces broke this illusion. In other words, humans would feel guilt if they felt that monsters were humans. So as a byproduct of separating goblins, who looked very close to humans, from humans, they became aversive toward foreign faces in the aspect that foreign faces carried a similarity to the closeness between goblin and human faces. Continuing the commentary, it was a fantastical way to express social differences. In general, people might feel threatened by those who were perceived as different yet similar enough to blur the lines of distinction potentially. It spoke to the human tendency to categorize and differentiate between humanness and monsterness, even when the differences were superficial or constructed. This was a strong case for why humans fought each other, and it was only rearing its ugly head in this fantasy world. But even now, Matthew was working toward alleviating this, even if he killed goblins just a moment ago. To address whether he was still a human being with empathy and a soul inside rather than a blanket of strategy, tactics, and battle, he was working hard to ensure that he was prepared to face threats, so he dampened his emotion and put it on a sun dry for a while. Maybe, it would find ideas worth putting on the surface. For now, he would wait. Morals could wait. He could wait. His soul could wait. His spirit could wait. He would become a human soon enough. But every now and then, when he stayed up for hours, the thoughts "Am I horrible?" and "Who am I again?" lingered and cycled through his head. It was the least he could do to maintain his sense of self, amid the greatness of his reign. Zipline zip!—emotions dispersed. He got up and aimed his focus toward the horizon, walking forward, raising his arm onward. Soon, the goblins saw him, trembling. He slashed them as a robot would, crushing their brutal lives and becoming their Creator. He mashed them together and smashed them, crashing them, loathing them, turning them upside-down, and making them. He played them as with toys, removing them completely before building them back up again. He threw them aside, dashing forward. He grabbed a goblin's dying head and punched it on the temple. "I cannot let you do this to me." He kicked it on the stomach before making a wound. He couldn't slash it part. But he could slice a bleeding wound across his upper torso and then watch it die patiently. He tore them apart with his mind before gripping his sword and slashing out anyway. He would not be satisfied by a half-assed attempt at warfare. He would not flinch at the sight of a bloodied hand reaching out to him. He would not care. He wouldn't. "I am me. Stop laughing!" He broke them and crushed them apart, ripping them to shreds, laying them asunder. He magnified their vulnerabilities and broke them time and time again, committing violence against the sacred covenant of the living God. But he was an apostate and simultaneously a remarkable definition of Great Power—that divine essence which sundered, remarked, and reinvented human qualities, manifesting in the form of violent retribution (repetition). He unleashed his wave of chaos, removing them, turning them askew, asking them aside before crushing their very hopes. He would not relent until his "self" was satisfied. He was a maniac seeking vengeance for a lost life. These goblins took that away from him. They were the first, and they imprinted on him like a person with a puppy. He would become a father-killer and destroy the covenant of Jacob the Messiah. He was Jacob of Messiah, because the apple never fell far from the tree. The goblins were the original Jacob of Messiah, and he was passing on the torch. He rendered them so askew and in ruins that it was like a blackhole. He manifested his fist, and he launched it, crashing down in a ball of flames. He removed their essences time and time again. He was beating a dead horse, but he was beating sorely and patiently and with ease. Nothing stopped him from this relentless assault. He tortured the very goblins who had tortured him. He was freedom in his punches (movements). He was grace in his unyielding assault. He was manifestation upon manifestation, for every action he did was made manifest. He bulldozered his way into the spines, ripping it to shreds. He would no longer live by this creed of violence any longer. He would live by salvation. And he was freeing them, scattering away the essences of weakness. He was freeing them from this dilapitated light. He rested on the seventh day of the fifth month. Emptied of his rage and despair, but experiencing the great personal cost, he growled, moving through the meadow. His eyes saw the great light, and he was astonished. And it came to pass, when the men of adventurer were in the field, that Matthew rose up against the adventurers his brothers, and slew them. But that wasn't true: he didn't kill them. To be more exact, he couldn't. The beginner adventurers, with a more rational mind, with enough teamwork, stunned him long enough to shackle him magically. They finally found a good use for that rope skill. "Haha," said one of the adventurers, Finnegan "Finn" Swiftwater. "It was nice getting all of that though. I imagine that we could have been the ones fixing—arranging it. I guess we'll never know, huh." "But yeah," said Isadora "Izzy" Wildwood. "imagine if it actually came to pass. We would be nuts. I'm honestly... I was honestly scared there. Was he one of them?" "Who?" said Declan "Dex" Stoneheart. "A 'blasted' adventurer?" said Lila "Lark" Moonshadow. "I don't know," said Elias "Eli" Sunfire. "Seems like it. But still... we have to get to the guild fast. If we don't fix this guy, he'll be doomed." "Why care about him though? He tried to literally kill us—" said Finn. "But we don't want to make this any more complicated than it already is," said Izzy. "He was probably burned out. Who knows? The guy must have been struggling with the recent war, and now he's crazy. I don't know. Maybe, he's not crazy, and it was just a spell... of craziness." "I don't know," said Finn. "I don't know either," said Izzy. They brought Matthew to the guild and got him fixed up. It turned out that his mind was slightly weakened. So they got a mage to exercise some magical psychological surgery to remove those icky parts. It failed though, given that Matthew's issue was resistant to those kind of changes, having intergrated his psychology deep into these more ickier parts of him. In the end, they had him sit down when he woke up, telling him to eat and drink enough water. Matthew nodded. He asked for forgiveness, addressing his faults in detail and explaining the possible reasons behind his sudden lapse of thought without using Earth terminology that they couldn't understand. The adventurers were fine with what he said, resolving the issue immediately. It was one check off a check list for them. But to Matthew, he almost killed people, even he had killed human bandits. They had the right to kill him, but they didn't. He saw it as them being kind to him. Though, moving on to the adventurers' perspective, it was more testy to kill an adventurer—even if they were a bandit—than it was to put constraints on them. So it was a good thing they had the rope skill. To give one possible explanation, the kindness that Matthew had extended to others returned to him. But that might just be a saying. He remembered one of the things the adventurers said when his brain was still foggy and heavy: "You need help, Matthew. You can't do this alone. We'll be the ones to give you that help." Matthew nodded and said okay. Even though the last fight ended in failure, his act of showmanship was still successful, even if it stemmed from a traumatic break. He was trying to get that voice out of him without giving in fully to the trauma. This way, he could get that almost messianic quality without losing himself completely to a psychosis-like state. This was all a part of his plan, but it was an opportunistic play on his part, since he could only proactively exploit it when his emotions arose, signalling the opportunity to strike for a theatrical, larger-than-life demonstration. He really wasn't going to kill the adventurers, but he thought that in order to realize the act fully, he had to immerse himself into the character and persona. So he allowed his emotions to surge until he was tittering at the edge of losing everything. To simplify, the traumatic break and the violent outbursts against the goblins and the beginner adventurers were intentional. In truth, first, this was who he was—the greatness of the stars accompanied him. Second, he was truly a human being. Lastly, he grinned; snickering gleefully.Chapter 45 - Masking the Darkness Within
Matthew stopped walking, weakened. He was too weak. He couldn't do anything. But he slashed the wind, crushing its momentum and removing its stride. It flogged its shaking attempts to stand up, delivering the final on four different corners, deliberately dismantling it corner by corner until it was truly out of support. He then removed it of life. In the silence, he contemplated the existence of its castration and its manning with hundreds of souls that came prior to its ruining all together. He would not stop with that. He would reap as much as possible. This was his dominance against the Wind. He prepared himself. This vial of expressions was his more surreal, introspective self returning: it matched hands and locked eyes with the other self that succeeded in this world. Returning to adventuring, he clasped hands with Tamer once again, their friendship unrivalled in the vicinity of the guild. Even now, their presence was strengthened, any succeeding roster of Tamer's party only adding to their progression. They entered the shadow of the dungeon, where hundreds of beasts roamed with quick steps. The sun soon reached its peak, and sweat became a common theme among men. But Matthew and Tamer had prepared, bringing their own potions to deal with the heat. This was the Special Heat-Remover 99! Only buyable in stalls near them! Now that the two were comfortable, they bungee-jumped into the dungeon, Tamer readying her cheap, low-cooldown skills, Mark priming his sword for business. Matthew immediately knew that the monsters had little in the way of vision, having gotten comfortable with the state of the dungeon. This particular dungeon they were in was one of the more challenging dungeons, so they had to be more careful and quiet this time around. One of the monsters came into sight, but Matthew and Tamer were quicker to hide, having pressed against the holes in the wall. Here, they were capable of planning their next moves. Tamer prepared her two skills [Marching Tire] and [Remove Clothes], targeting the first goblin that came into view. The goblin was slowed, and his armor and clothes were promptly removed. Matthew struck him as one having authority, ridding him of his form and essence like a man battling the sun. The goblin's form was quickly removed, while Mark and Tamer returned to their hiding spots. Meanwhile, Tamer's party got the signal to enter the dungeon, making sounds. The monsters immediately ran to them, passing by Matthew and Tamer. Matthew and Tamer waited until the team escaped and the monsters returned to their positions. Now that was over, the two learned of the various enemies within the cave, their power levels, behavior, speed, and many other details. Then, they went out of the cave quietly, relaying the information to the team. Matthew had planned this, but without Tamer's skills, he wouldn't have been able to strike the goblin roaming around that would have alarmed the rest of the monsters. Tamer was instrumental, and her party would soon make an appearance. For now, Matthew hid in the shadows, his face covered by a mask. Soon enough, the monsters noticed them, but Matthew was prepared, targeting the key threats among the monster crowd. Shooting them down as arrows of god, Matthew struck them all one by one, proving his prowess in stunting their development into the fight. The goblins under Tamer's authority went hand-to-hand with the lesser goblins who hadn't been trained under human guidance. The enemy goblins were felled, and the rest of the monsters under the weight of Matthew's fury. The rest of Tamer's team were the hands and feet of Matthew. Basically, while he was stuck creating a zone of no entry, the team shot down and targeted the stray key threats, soon enough devouring the side of the monster crowd like a man eating freshly baked bread. Matthew fell aside, his progress coming to a halt. The monsters retreated however, ending the fight with a stalemate. If the worth of controlling the dungeon was going to be effectual immediately, it would have been a victory to drive them out. But it wasn't, and it was a mere trip down to a dungeon that would soon become filled again with monsters. At least Matthew got some XP. Great job on defeating that solo goblin! Your expertise nets you a solid 7+ XP! 🎉 Well done on taking down that armored goblin! Your victory earns you a hefty 42+ XP! 🎉 Well done on taking down that armored goblin! Your victory earns you a hefty 42+ XP! 🎉 Well done on taking down that armored goblin! Your victory earns you a hefty 42+ XP! 🎉 Well done on taking down that slime! Your victory earns you a hefty 3+ XP! 🎉 Well done on taking down that slime! Your victory earns you a hefty 3+ XP! 🎉 Well done on taking down that slime! Your victory earns you a hefty 3+ XP! 🎉 Well done on taking down that slime! Your victory earns you a hefty 3+ XP! 🎉 Well done on taking down that slime! Your victory earns you a hefty 3+ XP! 🎉 Well done on taking down that slime! Your victory earns you a hefty 3+ XP! 🎉 Well done on taking down that spiders! Your victory earns you a hefty 2+ XP! 🎉 Well done on taking down that spiders! Your victory earns you a hefty 2+ XP! 🎉 He opened up his stats. Name: Matthew Cruz Level: 49 Current experience: 173 Species: Human Age: 25 Skills: [Whirlwind Waltz], [Cattle Decapitation], [Solipsistic Slaughter] Spells: None / None Vitality: 15 Quests: [Bridge of Knowledge] Titles: [Goblin Slayer], [Skeleton Slayer], [Overlord's Gifted] Unused stat points: 0.36 Attack Damage🪓: 85 + (10 from [Strength Beacon]) Ability Power🔥: 27 Armor🛡️: 57 Magic Resistance🚫: 60 Health🗿: 1129 Mana💧: 350 Mana regeneration💧 (per 10 minutes): 7 The key threats earlier were 4 goblin shamans, and he wasn't the one who killed them. With this rise of confidence, it became apparant that Matthew had to test and see what the hell he was all about. So when he returned home, he contacted some of his friends for a friendly match, asking them if it was okay for them to spare some time. Soon enough, Deathbringer found himself in front of Matthew, preparing his weapon. "I want to see how much has changed..." he said. Deathbringer suddenly felt the Wind moving strange. "Was it coldy today? I guess we're next to a mountain, and it's already late afternoon. But it's still early I—" He was struck on the temples. Deathbringer immediately used his skill, holding a dark sword with fire emanating from it, his form gigantic due to a skill that increased muscle mass temporarily. He used it early to spin-charge the first pre-strike he found. It was also a cheap skill, being very strong for situations like these. The man who commanded the Wind with a raised arm, Matthew, had laced his blade with poison, having stabbed Deathbringer. But it was not going to kill him. He had tested it himself. Then, Deathbringer, during his charge, fell to the ground, groaning. Why did he fall again to this same thing? Why? But that was not the point. Matthew back-handed him with his ghost blade, striking Deathbringer on the head. Deathbringer fell again to the ground. The point was that Matthew had to emphasize to Deathbringer that they were on the same level. Matthew offered his hand. Deathbringer, although frustrated, found hope in that grip. They both stood up, hands clasped. Soon, the tide went in a new direction. Deathbringer, Michel, Brandon, Brackern, Kairo, Nova, Ella, Prism, Jayce, Ada, Echo, and Richard continued onward, while Matthew stood by, journeying by himself. But he had finally restored the equilibrium for himself. When he was alone at an inn room, Matthew grinned manically. He raised his hand before lowering it hesitantly. Eventually, he found himself at three more quests with three different adventurer parties, having gained the reputation of a reliable hand-raising leader. Matthew disappeared into this masked leader. His form regaining anew. He opened a new door and found himself at the highest point of a hill, slashing goblins crawling up toward him. The rest of his adventurer parties on his first quest were making their way to him, since Matthew was supposed to be the one handling only one side of the enemy force. But the goblins had invested all their members to gang-catch him. Matthew raised his hand; Soon enough, the skills from above fell, originating from the his fellow adventurer parties. The goblins were pushed down to the earth level, and the adventurers swarmed them. Matthew used his first spell today, after the [System] gave him it. It was [Flash], and it teleported him a short distance. On the second quest, the goblins ran all over one division of his party members, striking them one by one. But Matthew ran, being fast enough. He commanded his accompying adventurers to heal and shield them. The goblins soon found themselves unable to break up the division, retreating up a hill. Matthew directed them to give up to the stalement, watching them with a forlorn gaze, seeing the crawling adventurers and the top of the mountain. On his third quest, Matthew finished after an easy sweep. They didn't even need him to participate in direct combat, but the adventurers did need confidence and some mentoring with strategy essentials. It felt more like a training session to him if anything. But this was the first series of quests where he felt that he was expected to excel beyond that of the common man (adventurer). Ultimately, it served its own slice of piece within the broader shapes of his goals, if not an exciting avenue on its own. But Matthew didn't want to remain a leader. His progress would be stunted like he stunted those monsters earlier. So his next actions would involve arranging various avenues of progression—currently, he had solo adventuring. But his pattern revolved around checking the middle-level dungeons in the area and attacking only the cream of the pie, basically the top and surface of the dungeon where the enemies were weakest and least effectively positioned. Even if goblins exerted some control over the general area of their dungeons, most of the goblins specialized in cave-dwelling and tunnel infrastructure, so any effort toward the surface required a special force. And that was why his efforts there was the cream of the pie. However, for progression as a warrior, he could visit other avenues suggested by his fellow adventurers. For one, he could try joining the tournaments in addition to solo adventuring; he could also incorporate different kinds of dungeons. He also went for the typical beginner-friendly dungeons, but the more challenging dungeons beyond the surface level involved challenges that transported adventurers to portal-created realms with unique threats, rules, and enemies. However, he could also keep grinding down the typical dungeon route until he found harder enemies with skills on their own. The issue was that most of the goblins especially had skills that had negligible impact since they died too fast to do anything. This was his current setup. Incidentally, Deathbringer, although good-natured and faithful to the cause of adventuring, had lost his spark, ever since his marriage and especially his wife's death. But Matthew cared about him. This was why with his new avenues of progression, at a stall at the marketplace near the bazaar where Deathbringer's friends worked, Matthew met Deathbringer and had him join up to improve as well alongside him. Soon, they were at a hill, observing the forest. They couldn't see the landscape much, blocked by other hills and mountains. However, they could see the general area, including the valley where goblins traversed. Even though they were unmatched at almost every front, goblins still committed to their goals of bringing food home. It was a testament to their dedication and determination as providers. But Matthew didn't want to focus too much on that element of morality. More importantly, the goblins were unaware of Matthew and Deathbringer's presence. And they separated into their own tents, since they were on a long journey and using this small place as a ground for training as well. It was a valley, so it was dangerous, and they lacked scouts. But they stayed here, risking their safety, because they were exhausted and in need of a break. The sun continued to blaze them. Suddenly, Matthew and Deathbringer struck them one by one, killing them off in threes since they were seperated by over 10 meters of distance in threes. The element of surprise was crucial, and the iterative defeat in detail ramped up until the goblins were forced to retreat. Collecting the various items and piling them up in the middle of the camp, Matthew and Deathbringer were surprised to see that the goblins were watching them from afar. They were pressed from all sides, and all their things were there in the camp, especially their sun-heated armor. Deathbringer didn't think too much to help them, watching them at his peripheral view like one would do with a dog. Matthew did the same, sitting down and resting for a while, pouring over himself the Special Heat-Remover 99 that was recently introduced to the marketplace and handing it to Deathbringer, who poured it over himself too. This was their resting place for now. To finish, it was a clear precedent that Matthew was quicker around the map and smarter around the map, setting up earlier. This was why in all of the prior fights, he led the teams to victory.Chapter 46 - The Fresh Slate: Matthew's Downfall and Resolve
A young man observed Matthew from afar, having seen him move here and there. He was updated with the recent events at the guild, and he also knew about how Matthew started. He had been collecting information on him for the past month, so he hoped to learn from him. He was visiting him today. Matthew stood, his expression still, his cloak large, the aura around him that of superiority and a sense of diligence. Eventually, he sat down, resting his leg atop the other, his arm grabbing the edges of his table. He was talking to two women and asking her how he could help the efforts of a new settlement, with the shadow of an older man behind them. Shifting to background context, having seen Matthew do great feats, Tamer only had to show to her academy Matthew's feats, and she was immediately allowed to refocus her academic priorities toward studying Matthew as part of a tailored project of education. This was why Tamer was not alone this time. The older man behind them had the the clothes of an rogue. He sat down next to Matthew, he looked outside, his eyes carrying that feeling of centuries of reflection. Returning to the young man's perspective, his nickname was "Rogernaki." He soon overheard that the older man was an older adventurer nicknamed "Basewars," while the other woman beside Tamer was Michel, the rare necromancer. Based on looks, Michel was in her thirties, while the older man was in his sixties. Matthew looked the youngest, probably in his mid-twenties, while Tamer, wearing her academy uniform, was likely in her early twenties. For context, schooling started a little later in this world. Continuing this line of contextualization, as for why Matthew didn't apply, it was complicated. He could apply, but he would be investing a lot in order to do so. At his current state, he received a lot just being that neighborhood super-adventurer. At this point, it was advisable for him to continue exploring adventuring until he was toe-to-toe with his seniors. At the moment, he was currently only ranked at Iron, which meant that he wasn't strong whatsoever if you compared him to Bronze and Gold. The city he was in was a city for Iron adventurers. That was why petty goblins were often the enemy. The higher-ranked adventurers made sure that the adventurers in lower-ranked cities didn't get their level of monsters. That was why they made sure to keep the dungeons clean and weak. They didn't want to kill the ecosystem of weaker monsters, but they did look for the stronger ones like humans did to certain animal threats until they became extinct back on Earth. This was the natural distribution of power between adventurers and monsters. But Matthew had indeed met Bronze-ranked veteran adventurers, but his recent quests involved the weaker bracket of Iron adventurers. This was why he looked divine in comparison. But the climb was steep, and he would only grow farther, his hands reaching out with jealousy and deep-seated rage (ambition). The arrogant faces of the higher-ranked adventurers didn't even look at him when he showed his great passion, their chins as uppity as usual—even if it was only in his mind. He would not stand down. He saw where he was at compared to the higher ranks; from Iron, Bronze, Silver, Gold, Emerald, Diamond, Masters, Grandmaster, to Challenger. Meanwhile, Rogernaki, the young man watching him, sighted several kids outside, as they played without a care in the world. They played their favorite games, and they did well. But they had potential far beyond their imaginations. When Rogernaki looked at Matthew, he soon two different phases of life. He realized he was lost out of this progression. His life consisted of him working the same day jobs. But he wished he could reach for the stars, even if he also wanted to live a simple life. It was a familiar notion, one shared by the thousands of citizens living in the city, one marking through the generations. The kids continued to play, and they lived normal enough lives to enjoy themselves for many years. Rogernaki stood up and left, returning to his boring job. But even if it was, he, alongside many others, carried the weight needed to sustain this society—an essential worker in a grand web of political machinations and power plays. Ambition was Matthew's name, and he would soon penetrate this web. Rogernaki disappeared, swallowed by Matthew's ambition. Matthew stood up, watching the glowing effect on Michel, Tamer, and Basewars' outline. This imagined glow signalled how close they were to being swallowed up as well. A grin played on his lips. Even if he was laughing at a joke made by Michel, to him, this grin referred to something greater. Matthew stood at the seat of power. Adventurers coalescing for his greatness. He commanded different columns of the guild hierarchy. He walked toward the horizon, jealous of its glory. He sought to monopolize it with a fierce glare. A familiar older man watched him, seeing the emotions Matthew so well inside. Matthew was getting too strong. For some reason, Matthew looked around him, as if remembering something. But he soon returned to drinking. His awareness was cutting short. Before it truly did disappear, he grabbed it and put it down. Long after parting ways with Michel, Tamer, and Basewars, taking a deep breath, he couldn't sleep after lying lazily and in a splayed out manner on the floor of his inn room. He stood up before heading to Sophia's grave. He cried for a while. Before he returned back. He watched the sun. He sat down in front of the older man. "What was that you did? You built a tavern." The older man smiled and froze. He grabbed Matthew and took away his levels and skills with a certain skill. For context, it was originally a very rare skill intended for skill practitioners to help people start fresh and reset their build path, but the older man used it aggressively. Returning to the moment, Matthew fell to the ground. "Huh?" he said. The older man tried to kill him, but a passing adventurer removed the stun effect on Matthew and healed him. The older man disappeared. Matthew stood up, alone in a vast world, the adventurer who had saved him running to assess his health. He looked around, his expression in a flurry. His laugh was sweet and syruppy. But it definitely spoke of a larger plan in mind. The [System] appeared. "I can't help you," he said before disappearing. Matthew gritted his mind, feeling himself exploding in hundreds of ways. One lapse of focus and trust in a stranger destroyed all his progress. After all the trust he gave people, this older man decided to ruin that streak of give-and-take. He just took and took. "God giveth, and God taketh away," he said sarcastically before holding in a punch once he returned back at the cottage. A group of adventures approached his cottage, surrounding him. When they entered, Matthew had his arms leaning against his hips, his head lowered and staring at the ground. They helped and comforted him. Matthew's expression was that of rage all throughout. He repeatedly expressed his anger at how unfair his situation was, adding that bad guys always got away with it. Later, after the adventurers left, he went deep into the forest and let out his anger at a goblin, his emotions in a flurry. As his emotions whirled, he ran around, finding himself at Drakekiller's cottage. Eventually, there, he smiled, appreciating her comfortable place. Drakekiller gave Matthew a kitten, asking him to help it while she did something. Matthew saw the problem and grabbed a cloth from a nearby table, damping the cloth. The problem was that the kitten's right eye was closed tight due to an obstruction. He placed the damp cloth against the kitten's right eye and slowly removed the green sticky discharge. The kitten struggled at first, preventing him, but he became more intentional and streamlined with his holding, finally removing the discharge and allowing the kitten to see again from the right eye. After Drakekiller returned, Matthew saw that she had a daughter, and he politely nodded toward her. But he kept his distance, fearing the fact that he was a man in this situation. "Drakekiller... Why did you let me come here?" he said. "And why do you live alone?" Drakekiller smiled, placing a hand on her daughter's head. Her daughter was drinking water with both hands. "Why shouldn't I?" She furrowed her brows, maintaining her smile, magical blue particles emerging from her nails for a brief moment. After seeing the child, a flood of memories entered Matthew's mind, and he instinctly knew the truth. He was afraid of what his hands could do, and he was afraid of children because he was afraid of himself. He couldn't stop himself or control himself. He was an addict. Even after all this time, he was still human, but he was sure that anything could happen. And he wouldn't be able to stop it from happening. And for some reason, the daughter looked a lot like Sophia with her ponytail. He couldn't share his fear and guilt. In his mind, Sophia was looking at him and pointing a shaming finger at him, accusing him. Tears dripped down his cheeks. "I'm sorry, lady." He stood up and walked away. He couldn't help but realize that he was a male monster. He left the area, and after a long breakdown that involved self-hurt, he rested back at his cottage. Extending his loss to a more objective outlook, his loss was not necessarily his fault. He prioritized his brain power on adventuring, loosening up to network and make connections with all kinds of people. Moreover, even if he might have been grandiose, it was all to motivate him and keep that persona going. The older man was just antisocial enough to do something like that in public without reason. Blaming Matthew would be equivalent to blaming the victim of a serial killer. As for his loss of levels and skills, it wasn't all bad. It would be a fresh slate, which meant that he could choose different skills this time and be more intentional unlike before. This time, he had many friends that he could ask for help easily now that much time passed since his arrival here on this new world. However, removing skills was probably possible with certain artifacts maybe. In the end, maybe, living life day-to-day was better. So he thought to visit a familiar person—Zoey. Zoey had the title [Master of the Basics], having helped beginners in the land of beginners for some time now. She was also a musician. Matthew wanted to follow in her footsteps for now, since he never really learned how to live like a regular adventurer in this world. He was already thrust into parties and given power and responsibilities from the start, giving little time to get in touch with most adventurers who had to start from the beginning. But part of him felt offended. He had gone through so much, but he had to start again. It was like an senior developer being told he had to add a new programming language to his repertoire from the start, because if not, he would be soon replaced by younger, cheaper, modernized, more ambitious developers. But Matthew knew that his past experiences would prove strikingly enlightening moving forward in this new phase, now that he had addressed everything. Two concepts were crucial here. One, a man in touch with his soul was an unhesitant agent. Two, levels, stats, strategy, tactics, integrating more people, a streamlined focus on improving himself, intermittent fights, his showman persona, and a more positive direction would still be relevant, despite his regression. He would bounce back again. Despite their complex, toxic relationship, the [System] rewarded his resilience. You have gained the title [Calm Walker]. All calming and mindfulness effects on you is increased by 10%!Chapter 47 - The Humbling
Matthew slowly gravitated toward the beginner areas, finding out that thousands of families made it their living to be an adventurer. When he expressed his prowess in those previous succession of quests as a director of sorts, it happened in a vacuum, not really leaving a dent in the overall guild. In reality, many adventurers did similarly impressive things, even if not in an approach as distinct as one revolving around a finesse for strategy. And it wasn't as if Matthew knew how all battles played out, so his strategies and tactics were done in a specialized container like a man knowing well his backyard but not knowing any other backyard and how to navigate them. When he found out about how many people were climbing up the beginner ranks and creating various parties day in and day out at rapid speed, it was something he had seen before. But still, engaging with a community and living alongside them was different than being passing by the community through the main road once a month. The fact that he had been spending most of his time with senior adventurers like Deathbringer and Sophia made it so that his time growing from zero was negligible. And he forced to learn how to fight with more senior concerns in mind. But that also resulted in some gaps in his training, such as being able to cope with killing goblins, something that beginners had to go through and learn to get used to overtime. Matthew was forced to watch goblin fights at a larger scale than what beginners were gradually exposed to, leaving him lopsided and asymmetrical. Moving onto another topic, as for what happened to that earlier adventure he had with Deathbringer, they decided to call it off after Matthew felt quesy. The area was particularly steep and full of hills and mountains in the distance. The slopes were not so easily identifiable too because of how forested they were. Moreover, goblins were not the only creatures that roamed the forest, so Matthew still had to be careful. Long-tailed macaques (monkeys), deers, small mammals, lizards, snakes, turtles, and other animals. The reason why he felt quesy despite his past travels was for two reasons. One, Deathbringer didn't have the same level of experience Matthew's previous travel companions, Liam and Elena, had. Two, this particular area they were in was harder to navigate with much less vision and very much like a chokepoint. So Matthew, even after stealing away the goblin camp, decided to move on and take their leave that time. Anyway, with all that laid out, Matthew was currently in the beginner areas, approaching Zoey, who held the title [Master of the Basics]. Zoey said, "Okay, now I know usually, you'd be focusing on grand plans, but today, you're just going to chop trees in this area. This is an open area, and you aren't going to head into a deep, dark cave. I just need you to stay here at this community and chop down the trees nearby. Don't worry. These trees respawn every so often. They are monsters actually, and that's why they do this. But they are just trees as well. So just chop down these trees and bring it to the sawmill right over there. You'll get one gold coin for every log. So start cutting." Matthew's face dropped, but he shook his head and said okay with enthusiasm. Seeing his responsiveness, Zoey continued: "Also, I'll hand you a wallet where you could hold your money. It can contain only 15 gold coins. Do not use any other wallet. I want you to get used to not having anything special to make your progress easier. I want you to relax and focus only on guiding your mind through the steps smoothly. I know you've proven yourself, but take this opportunity and treat this as a retreat if it seems too humbling." Afterwards, Zoey led him to a shop and had him pick up an axe there before leading him outside to a group of trees. "Cut this tree. It'll take five swings with that special axe." Matthew attacked the tree five times. But nothing happened. Zoey explained, "Stop attacking the tree. If you're trying to hit the tree as if it were an enemy, it won't work." Matthew had the what-is-this-bullshit written all over his face. Zoey smiled and showed him how to do it, grabbing Matthew's axe and hitting the tree five times as if it was guiding a baby to sleep. Then, the tree fell, yielding one log. Matthew didn't really get it, but he wondered if the [System] had to do with this hit-five-times-and-get-one-log mechanic. He shook his head, trying not to show how dismissive he was of this. But the fact that he was selectively dismissive of this made him take a moment to reflect. He could accept the idea of the [System] benefitting him, but now he called bullshit when it did something that he felt was too strange. What determined "strangeness"? What determined sense? Geometry? Balance? What if the [System] was like a human? Contradictory? Hypocritical? Unreliable? What if it did things because it wanted to? What if Matthew did things because he wanted to and not necessarily because a certain group of people told him it made sense or not? He realized that maybe cutting trees was a better activity and that it was better to turn off his mind and stop questioning the [System]. The Kindness Quest should have been the last straw for him, but even now, he still tried to make sense of something so unpredictable. It was just like spending time with people in general. In the end, he closed his mind and opened up only one part of his brain—the automatic tree-cutting part. He cut a tree and brought the log to a the sawmill, yielding one gold coin. After cutting 4 trees, he was already tired, so he explored around the beginner area. He entered a weapons shop with a man wearing a viking helmet at the counter. He sold cutlasses, more standard swords, flinklocks, blunderbusses, and pirate hooks. The room consisted of a table with a book on top and two chairs on both sides, a chest next to the door, a cabinet for holding weapons vertically, an anvil, a crucible, a water drum, a sword rank on the wall behind the man, a shelf with various food and drink containers, and some metal bars at a corner, among other things. The shop even had a dagger sign outside. He entered a wallet shop that sold a 10-gold small wallet that could contain 25 gold, a 20-gold medium wallet that could contain 50 gold, a 45-gold large wallet that could contain 75 gold, and a 70-gold huge wallet that could contain 100 gold. He entered a shipbroker store, but when the man asked, he told him that he didn't have a ship to sell. He entered a fishing shack where a man wore a squid for a hat, and he sold fishing rods that costed 3 gold coins. He entered a bank, and when he learned that it was stored magically, he decided to deposit his money there. After walking around for a while, he bought a canoe for only one gold and decided to travel only nearby. He noticed that since a while ago, the wallet that Zoey gave him had been magically filling with gold overtime. Every so often, the [System] notified him that he received one gold from the dwarven mines. Then, a gold coin magically teleported to the wallet. +1 Gold (Drarven Goldmine) He said: "So this is why Zoey gave me this. But seriously, can't I use any other container? If I get all these money, why not bring the entire nation to go here and claim all these money? Unless the money is limited, and I'm only getting these because I'm a beginner. And that if everyone chased after beginner benefits without the actual corresponding increase in economic productivity, then the worth of the gold coin will fall." The [System] was being a little annoying right now, or maybe it was the system that beginners played a role in without realizing the potential consequences of. But it was likely because of mechanics outside of his imagination and understanding right now. If he chose to sit down and do nothing and collected benefits without actually doing anything for the economy, he might benefit, but the economy wouldn't. In the end, he realized that he had to work hard today and cut as much logs as possible. But now he wondered whether spending time here was sufficiently proportionate to the amount of economic productivity he contributed when he was still an adventurer. Cutting down logs was essential, but in terms of proportion, leading adventurer parties to fight goblin threats with his high level of specialization was likely more productive. So he decided not to have the beginner level phase and jump straight to what he was good at. Education's goal was to promote growth and development and not to hinder them. But still, he felt that he could learn a lot from working as a beginner, which would contribute to his overall effectiveness and leave him more adaptable and well-rounded. So he eventually told Zoey that he would only be staying temporarily instead of going through the whole process. However, Zoey said that she wasn't planning on making him go through the whole process anyway. She had an approach tailored specifically for him. He thanked her, glad that he didn't have to deal with an obstinate person. It was nice to see someone better than him in that regard. For a long time, being obstinate his one of the ways he dealt with the effects of displacement. So he looked at Zoey as someone he could potentially trust as a close ally. Returning to the main topic, Zoey explained that the goal of making him cut trees today was to test his resolve and resilience amid shifts in priorities. That was her rationale. As for what she had next for him, she said it would involve making him confront his dependence on others as a leader. She said he would be visiting the lower dungeons of the beginner areas—something he had never done before. "By the way, this is off topic, but can I buy the blunderbuss?" Matthew said. "Sure!" said Zoey, smiling at him and trying her best not to let her personal feelings get in the way of work. As mentioned earlier, she liked him and had been excited that he approached her for help. It was good to see someone so tough show such a down-to-earth and boy-next-door side to him almost in an animal-loving way. Ironically, Matthew had killed goblins ruthlessly. Moving on to the next day, hours after Matthew woke up on the floor of the room on the second floor of the fishing shack, he and Zoey were in a cave, far away from any usual goblin threats. They had taken another path to avoid the goblins. Matthew held a blunderbuss, aiming it at the cave walls. "You sure goblins won't be coming straight out of the walls with some artifact or something," he said. "No, no," said Zoey. "But that sounds like a good idea. We... or I mean me and the... Notrium group... should try that some time." As for the blunderbuss, Matthew had never shot a gun and a bow. The good thing was that a gun felt much more intuitive to hold, even if it was hard to reload, shoot, and aim a blunderbuss. In fact, archers hated the loud sound it gave off. The good thing was that Matthew had magic on his side, but today, he would only hold it as a prop until he learned to use it effectively. At the cave, Matthew held his spear, Zoey holding a sword behind him. As for Zoey's reason for joining Matthew, she was here despite her overall goal of helping beginners because it was Matthew who had approached her for help. It was her job to raise this up-and-coming adventurer who had shown himself to have high potential. Indeed, she had been tasked to help him out by the guild itself. Soon, a goblin leapt out, trying to assassinate Matthew. Zoey stabbed it the way Matthew had imagined himself shooting a blunderbuss. It was quick, succinct, and right in the head. The goblin fell to the ground, his body crawling before stopping forever. Matthew still didn't know how to feel about that. Zoey said, "Sorry, I didn't think a goblin would be around these parts. I was hoping to show you the non-goblins today. There... are lots of non-humanoids that you can fight..." When she saw Matthew's continuing discomfort, she trailed off. Matthew nodded. To hammer a point mentioned many times before, he was still battling the effects of his past experiences with goblins, and it didn't just heal overnight like addiction. Sometimes, it took years before it ever felt manageable, and even then, it would never be truly gone, always simmering under the surface like a parasite. That was the reality of most people who went through war and any kind of trauma. It wasn't pleasant, and it surely wasn't something you could move on from by just attending a therapy session or church. Sometimes, the only thing one could do was learn to manage it, which often meant dealing with it but never fully curing it. This was why Matthew needed to keep himself present in the moment or distant wherever needed, almost adapting and preparing himself. This was how his strategy manifested—in avoiding triggers. The only thing people on the side could do was give time, space, and resources, the elements that could lead to stability. Earlier, Zoey instinctively shot at the head, but if she was prepared, she would have looked for a less disturbing way to go about neutralizing it. It would usually be a fun moment when it was among her closer friends, but with Matthew, it was like tiptoing on a tightrope between two towers. But Matthew was worth fighting for. He had proven himself well enough, and even if he didn't, he still deserved many more chances to prove himself. This was Matthew. With all his flaws and his accompanying successes, that great symbol and that inner self that he hid so well only made him more human. Zoey saw that, and she comforted him in the way she knew how. Because of this, Matthew's title [Calm Walker] activated, making Zoey's comforting words 10% greater in effect. This led to him calming down enough that they could move forward one dungeon level deeper. Now that it was the sixth month, Matthew could no longer spend his time pretending, even if his levels and skills were gone. The [System] was beckoning him to make a great feat with his eight [System] quest. Matthew had declined the earlier ones because he had not been able to handle them just yet. Objective: Embark on a perilous journey into the depths of the dungeon to reclaim your lost levels and skills by defeating the formidable troll that dwells within. Details: Once a renowned hero, you find yourself stripped of your former glory, your levels drained and skills forgotten. However, rumors speak of a troll deep within the dungeon whose defeat holds the key to restoring what you have lost. With nothing but determination driving you forward, you must brave the dangers of the dungeon and face this formidable foe to reclaim your former strength. Task: Rediscover: Navigate the treacherous corridors of the dungeon, retracing your steps and piecing together fragments of your lost memories and abilities. Seek Guidance: Seek out the wisdom of sages and scholars who may hold the secrets to regaining your lost levels and skills, guiding you on your quest for redemption. Confrontation: Confront the troll that lurks in the darkest depths of the dungeon, knowing that only by overcoming this mighty adversary can you hope to reclaim what was taken from you. Test of Resolve: Steel yourself for battle, facing the troll even in your diminished state. Let your determination and sheer willpower be your greatest weapons as you stand against the creature's relentless onslaught. Triumph: Defeat the troll and reclaim your lost levels and skills, emerging from the depths of the dungeon stronger and more resilient than ever before. Reward: Redemption: Restore your lost levels and skills, reclaiming your rightful place as a formidable hero in the eyes of the realm. Resurgence Title: Earn recognition as a symbol of resilience and perseverance, inspiring others with your triumphant return from the depths of despair. Relic of Renewal: Discover a powerful artifact within the troll's lair, imbued with the magic of renewal and rebirth, symbolizing your newfound strength and resolve. He thought the [System] was mocking him, so he couldn't help himself. But he wasn't really tempted. He honestly just wanted to see how strong the troll was. It was here in the deeper levels of the dungeon, and Zoey was leading him there.Chapter 48 - Revival of the Coalition: Confronting New Stronger Foes and Restoring Alliances
Matthew slashed several goblins with his ghost sword. A goblin appeared before him, raising his arms grandiosely. "A goblin's dream will never die!" A burst of red particles covered him, and he burst at Matthew. The particles healed him instantly each time he was damaged for a duration. Matthew would apply healing reduction with Michel's Ghost Blade when he achieved the required 5 slashes on a single target, so he deftly avoided the goblin's rending attacks, slashing him from the side after each of the goblin's misses. At five stacks, Matthew rended him and kicked him down, breaking his attempt to stand and crushing his fervor with a boot stomp. The ghost blade fell down, neutralizing the foe. The goblin's body omitted an unusually pungent smell due to the red particles, so Matthew moved the carcass away. Meanwhile, Zoey ran in a circle, overwhelming the goblins by pushing them down with her staff and then stomping at them. She did in repetition, crushing the goblins collectively within 50 seconds. It took a long time to do, but she was the one leading the fight with 20 kills, while Matthew only had 5 kills. Though, he did fight the goblin boss. In the end, Zoey and Matthew were skilled in their respective avenues. Matthew, despite lacking levels, retained his stats and the finesse he learned in strategy and combat. This was why he could easily slay a goblin with a powerful skill. Their next foe was in a large chamber, but a complex strategy was not of the essence here. Matthew immediately drew the goblins to him to fight. Zoey grabbed some rocks and threw them at the goblins playfully. She was powerful enough to charge and knock the goblins aside to clear the path for Matthew to kill the now haphazard crowd of goblins. Matthew struck one goblin before striking another using an unconventional angle. It was easy to strike in different ways when his blade killed enemies very quickly. Sometimes, the most efficient way to fight was unintuitive and looked funny. He slashed again and again as if he was waving a stick. The goblins fell apart again and again, and sooner or later, the retreating goblins furthest away were caught and killed. Zoey complimented him to keep his focus steadfast. The [System] also complimented him with notifications. Matthew was already gaining speed in his combat confidence, similar to confidence in drawing. It was like striking down an enemy fully knowing what the angle would be, what kind of shape the strike would make, how the goblin would respond emotionally, and where the goblin would dodge. Though, this level of ease only happened rarely. He mostly killed his enemies with more clumsiness and raw power if anything. The next cave involved goblins wearing more armor, so Matthew had to precise with his strikes. He struck the goblin on the neck, bleeding it and watching it fall to the ground. The rest of the goblins charged, while Zoey threw a javelin that struck a line of several goblins that blocked the path of the rest. Zoey nimbly crushed a goblin to shreds with her primed strength attack. Blocking, she struck a blade aside precisely and with a small point, utilizing both bruteness and accuracy. Matthew raged upon the streets of Zaun, removing goblins from existence by walloping them to the ground enough that they fell away from reality forever. He tried to kick them, but the goblins took advantage of his awkward movement and struck at him. Matthew got up and bounced backward, healing himself and joining Zoey. Zoey and Matthew made a more precise attack jointly, creating lines through the goblins in different points of the surrounding goblins. The goblins soon fell away one by one, losing their provisional organization and becoming as thin as a branch in a thunderstorm. Zoey finished off the last goblins, while Matthew sat down with a sigh. The armored goblins soon fell away like the lesser unarmored goblins. This was a confirmation of Matthew's strength in numbers. Though, it was only two in this case. Dungeons were easier to navigate compared to fighting goblins in goblin territory, especially when partnered with a master like Zoey. Zoey was environmentally friendly in the sense that she knew her way around this place. Matthew was astounded each time he fought because he felt that Zoey was watching his back even when she wasn't actually looking. It was this sense that she had efficient macro, one that didn't require her to stare constantly. She integrated her information gathering techniques with her positioning, attacks, and special skills, overall making her a great fighter. Matthew never knew this, but it was nice to get a happy surprise. Their next enemy were a giant flightless bats with strong, ripped arms that thunderously neutralized enemies with one fell swing. Matthew took advantage of their size and grabbed his blunderbuss, shooting at them. He missed two times, but on the third time, he struck gold, slamming a bullet straight into the bat's head and making it explode. Matthew ran up and struck him before leaping back to avoid a sweeping strike. Zoey dashed to Matthew to hand him several potions to throw at the bats. Matthew threw them, and some of the potions omitted smoke, while others exploded, creating a chaotic view for the bats. The bats were unable to coordinate under this pressure and lack of vision and control over their environment. Instead of adjusting their positioning, they panicked and attacked randomly to zone Matthew and Zoey away. But Zoey and Matthew loved this distance, using their javelins and blunderbuss to strike them down for good. The bats yielded them lots of XP, and finally Matthew broke the limits of 100 XP. Matthew finally got a skill that complimented his fighting abilities—[Phantom Shield]. It was a defensive skill that allowed him to get into fights quicker and easier. This way, he could rush into the site of attack and completely disrupt and displace his opponents without too much hesitation. Zoey, as well, got a new skill, having spent years not getting much. Matthew's presence made it easier for her to achieve greatness. Though, to say that Matthew alone was the cause was not true. In reality, Zoey collected skills a lot, and she had a long list of open slots for them. So she kept those slots open and discarded skills she never used. This way, whenever she killed enough enemies to warrant getting a skill, she would actually get it instead of not being notified by the [System] and given it due to having no open splots. Matthew did not really understand any of this, but he was glad they were finally moving on. The next foe was a group of goblin heroes that paved the path for many goblin children forward, but Matthew and Zoey were here to end their cruelty once and for all. The heroes saw them and began coordinating, talking among themselves. After one of the heroes waved his hands, a visible magic shield around the heroes appeared, discouraging Matthew and Zoey from attacking. So at the moment, Zoey told Matthew to back off because it was not worth to challenge enemies with unknown powers. Matthew nodded, understanding. At their next dungeon visit, their foe included giant earthworms and ants. Matthew was confused as to how to fight these opponents, having only won the giant bat fight earlier due to Zoey's preparedness. The good thing was that Zoey was with him again. Zoey told Matthew to strike down the earthworms' sides and not their heads because they were more vulnerable there. Matthew obeyed, waiting until the earthworms launched at them before he struck his blades at the sides and made a slice through the worms' side. The worm delivered the force necessary to make the slice easy. Zoey did the same, taking down two, while Matthew only defeated one. There had been three living earthworms in total. With the earthworms defeated, the ants were next, so they prepared by shooting at them from afar to test their body armor. But their attacks failed to penetrate, so they did the only other option of charging at them, dodging, and slicing their legs off. The ants roared, casting a skill that created a light beam that struck the ground in front of them. Moreover, one ant casted a spell that made it three times bigger, though at the accidental expense of one of the ants. Another any casted a spell that summoned a terrifying spiky blade without a handle and controlled it telepathically. The huge ant stomped toward Zoey and Matthew, forcing them to retreat. The ants, sustaining the light beams, burned through Matthew's head. The good thing was that Matthew had used his skill [Phantom Shield] that blocked 30% of the remaining damage. Moreover, he had been wearing a magic-resistant helmet that mitigated 65% of the damage after magic shield mitigation. These were two perks from preparation. As a result, the light only dealt partial damage, so Matthew was able to heal himself again. But the damage was too huge, leaving him only partially healed. Matthew had to step back, while Zoey covered for him to escape. Afterwards, Zoey escaped as well, leaving at 100% health. She noted that the earthworms were too powerful, so they focused their energy at the goblins for the meantime. But in order to do that, they were thinking of taking them prisoner. They headed to a small area where they planned on baiting the goblins. They put down several goblin bodies and had them wear the goblin bat's skin. It was a strange way to attract attention. But it worked. The goblins actually came close enough. And Matthew and Zoey came out, running faster than them and then imprisoning them. After forcing them to take part in an unreasonable magical contract, the goblins were made to get food from their camp and bring it to Matthew and Zoey. However, the enemy goblins were smart and killed off these goblins. Due to the failure of this strategy, Zoey felt greedy and suggested to charge at the goblin camp as an alternative approach. But Matthew dissuaded her, saying that if the goblins knew they were coming, the element of surprise was gone. Thus, all that battle prowess that they exhibited in earlier fights due to that element would also be impacted. Basically, goblins could sort and order themselves by position, priority, and skill if they knew adventurers were coming. This would be a much more balanced fight strategy-wise, so Matthew did not want to risk it. But to compromise, Matthew said that bringing in more people would make this camp takeover possible. Zoey agreed, so Matthew invited Deathbringer, Tamer, Michel, Brandon, Brackern, Desmond, Lumi, Elara, Thorne, Elena, Liam, Kairo, Nova, Ella, Prism, Jayce, Ada, Echo, and Richard. Some of these were friends of friends, but eventually, they did all come together for the first time in a while. At the guild, it was declared a coalition, since it consisted of at least 5 parties—including Desmond's party, Thorne's party, Tamer's party, Michel's party, and Nova's party—not including the former parties. And it soon became a quest of importance after it was addressed, and Matthew's name was mentioned. He was indeed a pillar in his own right. 5 parties wasn't exactly a lot, but to have a reputation for setting up coalitions, even if it was only several, meant a lot to a guild in terms of accountability and regulation. That was why Matthew was regularly visited by Rodney and his team to inform them regarding his future plans. In fact, when he lost his levels and skills, they were part of the adventurers who came to comfort him at his cottage, and they asked him about his future plans then. He told them that he was motivated to make amends and start anew, delving deeper into his career as an adventurer. It was a professional statement, but it was all Rodney needed to see a committed employee moving forward. Anyway, now that the coalition was gathered, the camp raid was swift. All Matthew had to do was keep his team together and have them take the relevant objectives. He needed to direct them in response to different variations in which the fight could go. At the site where Zoey and Matthew last were, the coalition kept observing the camp, being regularly reciprocated by the goblins in the distance. An unusually long and relatively flat stretch of land lay between them. To sum, it was never his levels and skills that drew people to him. It was his capacity for combat, strategy, tactics, and leadership that did.Chapter 49 - The Witchman's Grace: A Symphony of Destruction and Redemption
Matthew's coalition began moving, their steps careful, their eyes engaged, and their soul brimming with fervor, one backed by patience and a sense of purpose. Matthew united them under a common banner of having known him and seen him perform. He was a dancer with a choir, and they were his choir, singing his songs and performing until he was fully done. The crowd would go wild. His current crowd, a camp of goblins, would go wild when they saw him. He raised his arms and commanded his troops, dancing along the path that led to the goblins. The goblins released a volley of arrows, giving the adventurers pause. But Matthew was quick, directing three teams that made up three prongs of attack. "Bait them to shoot again!" he ordered Team Dismantle with the intention of releasing pressure off his other teams. He then directed Team Pincer: "Keep moving downward, keep their attention on you! And test their defences! Then, move around until you find an opening! If not, back off and delegate the damage soaking to Team Tank!" Simple, Team Dismantle worked at the flank. Second, Team Pincer worked more at the front but cautiously and embracing a ready strategy retreat. Third, Team Tank operated as the vanguard, but they didn't appear until the defences were fully understood. And they knew where to position them for maximum impact on the fight. They couldn't just waste the teams' energy by making them run around in circles during an active skirmish. The goblins were quickly dismantled, as the teams operated harmoniously, keeping communication lines with Matthew. Matthew was the first one to strike the door open, having been the one at the back and center where he could relay his orders from a vantage point. The goblins were too panicked to look for him, getting alarmingly close calls each time their defences were tested with a loud, powerful united attack by Team Pincer and made terrified of a flanking attack by Team Dismantle. The brutality in which Team Tank easily soaked up damage only proved to rip their composure to shreds. The goblins were hunted one by one with little coordination in sight. Once the structured defence was breached, the goblins could only run around their camp, which had been streamlined toward an easy-come-easy-go approach with tents and food enough to pack up and leave quickly. The defences they had mustered were part of the permanent installations. In the end, the goblins went against the suggestion between them to retreat when they sighted Matthew and Zoey, resulting in their double-layered defeat rather than simply handing over of a strategic location. It could have been avoided, but they tried their best and lost. To explain their rationale behind staying, there was strategic value in it. It wasn't like they didn't see adventurers come by from time to time. But Matthew held a special position among the adventurers, and even if the goblins knew him as a figure, they didn't know what he looked like by face. It was only when Matthew's teams breached their defences that one of them considered the idea that Matthew might be present and leading the assault. It was far too late. Ultimately, Matthew's coalition's role was complete, officially disbanding for its members to return to their routines and more personal objectives. Matthew and Zoey's next priority was to establish a more permanent location here in this dungeon. With this increase in control, albeit temporary over the region, all they had to do was assign some form of force here in order to keep this location attended and within vision. So she took this suggestion to the leaders attending the beginners, who then took this notion to the guild. It was only the tip of the iceberg that represented the larger networks in which these organizations operated. Afterwards, Matthew and Zoey rested and reseted their focus before arriving at another dungeon the next day. The giant ants that had defeated them were still in their minds, but for now, they would be operating in a smaller space with the same enemy goblins. It would be even more strategically important because the goblins had much advantage here. It reminded Matthew of his previous horrific solo raid at a goblin-infested dungeon. Matthew then walked up and crushed a goblin's stride, tossing it apart. The next goblins were quick, grabbin at him, but their limbs were exhausted and ripped to shreds. Goblin after goblin came, but they soon retreated, recognizing the Witchman. "It's the Witchman!" "What's that name? I didn't know you had that name." Zoey did know about it, but she didn't dare pry. Matthew nodded. "I think I might have whispered it to someone, and the goblins picked it up." Zoey pretended not to know. Then, she caught the goblins and massacred them with all of her heart. The basis that supplemented her strikes were useful, keeping her focus sharp and her emotions intact. While Zoey merely slashed with weapon-wielding fundamentals in mind, Matthew bifurcated his enemies, riding the momentum of grace and flaying them aside. He then punished them to Oblivion's Grace. The grandiosity in his actions were godly. The orchestral sounds of heaven accompanied his ghost blade strikes, aiding him in his destiny toward removing goblins part by part and taking up space within the spiritual component within them. He ousted that space and became them, ripping that attached soul component and swallowing it. He became the bringer of love. He slashed with a rough, interrupted swing, crashing down only with his emotional nature. He struck ravenously, his heart blurring through various flavors of defeat. In his mind, he was defeated, so the only true option was to unleash the frustration arising from this feeling through his actions. The blade struck, flying across the horizon, capturing the sights of many. He saw goblins moving in a dance, and he saw himself levitating, flying over them. The goblins cried and bowed before him, crying "Holy, holy, holy, was the Witchman Almighty!" He cried himself, watching the silence turn to blooms of flowery postures. He himself embodied this Spirit, becoming the epitome of grace and beauty. He loved them, embracing them through the tip of his blade, slashing and flouring through them and making waves upon waves. The silence was overwhelming, as Zoey watched. She saw the spirit of the devil within those movements. It was a devastating, beautiful idea to find beauty in violence. She followed him cautiously, soon detaching her hesitation and joining his hand-raised fight. Matthew found that his grief had become beautiful. He grieved through his blades, striking them down with a haphazard sense of purpose. He became the night, loving them and turning their fears into death. It was Death that was at fault. Not him! He didn't kill them. He freed them from their greatness of suffering. He slashed them again and again like a child waving a stick. The ghost blade did most of the effort. But this emotional dance soon became a theme that Zoey continued to follow and watch. Matthew came running; no more cries, no more pain, no more suffering. He danced through them, phasing through their souls and collecting them overtime. He became invisible, soulless, and unable to think. He was in the zone. He found his blade disappearing and his hands becoming the blade that struck the goblins. He floated away. Zoey watched him fly away metaphorcially. Matthew disappeared. But after a short moment, he appeared again as if he was never transcendent or divine. He had been merely playing a role, a more introspective, grounded, simple, and easygoing man returning and taking form and role. Mouth agape, Zoey placed a hand over her mouth. She comfirmed that she was enamoured of this man. The man expressed his existence so casually. It was as if not a single thing could disconcert him. The gentle waves of the beach felt rageful in comparison to his gracefulness and great beauty. The man smiled, standing poised: acknowledging his role in the cycle of life and death. Meanwhile, the goblins Matthew had left alive burst around a corner, hugging their only items. "Help," one of them, Nanyaa, said, her eyes speeding toward Maydaysee, another goblin. Maydaysee said, "We can't leave like this! How about Amarayaa!" "She's dead," Nanyaa said, slightly puking in her mouth. But she couldn't puke. Her balance was crucial. If she got caught on the rocks like Amarayaa did, she would... She couldn't bear to think about it! Maydaysee grabbed the wall, motioning the rest of the retreating goblins in this one of two directions. One of the goblins went the other way because her eyes were closed with grieving tears, forcing Maydaysee to grab her and redirect her. Eventually, all the running goblins followed Maydaysee's path, but those who crawled were left behind to suffer at the hands of a great killer. "Witchman." It was the word that terrified hundreds of goblins and left them in terror. The night sky was beautiful tonight incidentally. They wished. "Maydaysee," said Nanyaa, pointing. "Let's go." Maydaysee looked at her. Nanyaa pointed past the large line of goblins and toward the large mountain. "Let's go through there. Witchman won't see us there." They had gone out of the dungeon through the entrance where the adventurers went, so now they were outside in human territory. The mountain pass was their best bet to get back to goblin ground. "Okay," Maydaysee said with partial breaths. "I just left Amayaraa." Her voice was full of grief. "I left her!" She bit back her tears, watching the line of goblins stop. A troll emerged in the distance. Maydaysee smiled. Returning to Witchman, Matthew looked at his [System] quest again. Objective: Embark on a perilous journey into the rainforest to reclaim your lost levels and skills by defeating the formidable troll that dwells within. He realized that the quest changed its wording. It no longer said "dungeon" and read "rainforest." This meant that the troll had gone outside while he wasn't looking. He made his way slowly, worried that Zoey was too exhausted to process. But Zoey smiled, having drunk a potion for the heat. They were still in the dungeon, inspecting around their current floor for any more goblins. But there were no more. And Matthew was worried that he had forgotten something such as food and other preparations. So he told Zoey that it was advisable to leave to reset. Zoey had decided that she would agree either way. Some time after they returned to the city, Matthew lay down until his head was perfectly placed on the inn bed. It had been a while since he lay down on a bed, having slept on the floor primarily. So he smiled for the first time since he left Zoey earlier. Honestly, he was glad to have Zoey by his side. The fact that she was so calm counterbalanced his more emotional disposition. And he knew that with proper planning, soon, he would become a better person. If Zoey could do it, then he could too. He lay down and feel asleep, his thoughts becoming baby-like. The same repeated words beamed throughout: "Am I a horrible person?" Soon after he woke up, he was approached at the guild by a group of adventurers. They were from different parties, serving as representatives. "Wow," Matthew said, surprised at this new turn of events. "I've never seen this." "Might you please help us?" said one of them, a girl with bunny ears. Matthew furrowed his brows instinctively, scared of women who wore bunny ears. It reminded him of the weirder side of the Internet. "S-sure, sure," he said, smiling a little late. "I'd want to help you." He sounded unsure there with his wording, but his tone indicated otherwise. The representatives were glad to have him on board with them. Matthew checked first whether they had money to pay him. It had been a while since he earned plenty of money. So he was fishing for it right now. His progress reputationally didn't necessarily denote immediate returns, so that was why he was being intentional and proactive with it. The adventurers paid him in hard, tastable cash. He got an urge to eat it when the adventurers asked if he was willing to eat with them before the members of each of their parties arrived. He agreed, heading to an eatery and noticing how different this one was. It was very large, enough to fit a hundred people, so he was almost worried by how much it reminded him of eateries on Earth. The nostalgia hit him, and he found himself pondering. But the new people's voices kept him in check, sustaining a sense of bigger goals and plans. It was not just a group of parties gathered for a single purpose feel. It was a we-are-a-part-of-a-grand-religious-event kind of feel. He felt the awesomeness influencing him as well enough that his voice sounded more broader in the sense that it was sustained with a more loftier and elevated weight and accent to it. He raised his hands higher, and his expressions were more subtle, except for his eyes. His eye expressions were much more pronounced. It was just an effect. Soon enough, he found himself smirking alongside the men and women at the table, becoming a cowboy-like fellow.Chapter 50 - Harnessing Lightning and Mastering the Fabric: Matthew's Evolution as a Strategist
Matthew watched the fall of a giant statue, seeing the adventurers pulling at it. This was a party event, but it looked like societal collapse. He looked around, roaring alongside the adventurers as they finished this event's version of a ribbon cut. Afterwards, he got to see adventurers lined up in an organized manner for a purpose distinct from taking quests. They were here like a bunch of soldiers in a real time strategy game for him to control and marshal however way he wanted. This was scary. But this experience was necessary. He did want to return to adventuring with Zoey. But he had to progress out of the box. The giant ants weren't important anymore. What was important was being there when the opportunity arose. This was that opportunity—"Tie the boat up and see how it spins first" he said. It was a directive imposed in view of the requirements of a skill belonging to one of the members. It involved being able to use a boat as a torpedo if spun fast enough, so the adventurers were tasked with learning how to work with it by raising it with a rope and rotating it. This boat was not only a canoe. It was heavier and larger than a dinghy. It was meant to do something damage. To explain why it needed to be a boat, the skill was only effective when it was a boat that the [System] certified. It was a weird rule, but it made for funny interactions between the adventurers, who still had fun with the training. Sooner or later, Matthew found himself wondering whether he was a fraud. He wasn't some adventurer trainer officer. So what the hell was he doing? Who did he think he was? In the end, he accepted this current situation, as he did with the concept of monster hunting. After the boat was spun fast enough, the member with the relevant skill cast it. As a result, the boat turned horizontal and shot forward, striking a tree in the distance. With how heavy the boat was, the tree was absolutely destroyed. Matthew found himself smiling absentmindedly. It was the only way he could accept this sight. In a test battle, they headed to a dungeon and lured out the goblins with a few adventurers. But the goblins were wary and stayed inside the cave, having learned of the adventurers' presence. As a result, the adventurers moved to goblin territory and prepared an artillery attack, aiming the boat at the sky with the goal of hitting a goblin camp. They didn't expect it to do damage, but they were confident it was going to spark fear into the minds of the goblin forces. When the boat struck after only 1 miss due to the boat skill caster's mystically lengthy experience with it, the goblins found themselves at a lost. It had struck the left side of their camp, and now, adventurers were rushing in and slashing them apart. The goblins were so few, and so many adventurers' strategic value was used up beating them up. They thought it was a win for them, but the adventurers's true goal was to test the boat skill attack and their coordination with each other and some of their skills. Moving onto the perspective of one of the goblins retreating from the adventurers,, running into the forest, her feet were becoming red with pain. She lifted them up and cursed, looking for a place to hide. An axe flew, striking a nearby tree. The goblin's eyes were wide with terror, but she soon scurried past and around a path through the trees, disappearing. The adventurers that came included the one who threw the axe. He was smiling, laughing at how one of them tripped a while ago. "Seriously, I haven't been this fit since forever," said the one who had tripped. "It's been a month of doing nothing but resting, okay?" As the adventurers continued their cheery conversation, the goblin who had disappeared in the trees was hiding very close nearby in a thicket. The feet that she kept so stable suddenly collapsed, causing her body to brush through the thicket loudly. The adventurers sighted the thicket and surrounded her, striking at the bushes and stabbing through her. She cried help before she muttered some religious sayings. She didn't know what to do, so she looked up only to find his eyes obstructed by the top of the thicket she was in. She couldn't even see Heaven one more time before going there. She dissipated into lifelessness, her body becoming a rolling pin underfoot. Delving into the adventurers' viewpoint, they moved on and returned to Matthew, his presence a shadow in the distance looming over them and permanent like a floater on the surface of their eyes. He was like the clouds, ever-present yet overwhelmingly simple. Nothing stopped a god-like object from being an essential component of real life—like sun and night and daylight. It was nonetheless ultimate. Shifting to Matthew's perspective, he stood, staring and guessing a boat's kinetic energy when shot incidentally. He didn't really need the answer, but it relaxed him to do so. Now that the fight was over, Matthew marshalled everyone and told them that any more training would be fruitless and even damaging. They had just started, so moving slowly was the key. Though, many of the adventurers actually had more energy, but they obeyed him nonetheless, trusting his judgement and monochromatically prioritizing harmony over disruption. Later, back at the inn at whih Matthew stayed last time, he lay down, trying to sleep, but ultimately unable to do so. He was not able to relax right now, but maybe, it was because the sight of the adventurers made him nervous. He chose not to think about it too much and soon fell asleep. The next day, at an area in the rainforest, Matthew stood, watching the same adventurers gathered. "What I need is a person who knows how to throw lightning. I need a spell like that. I want to test something..." One of them came up and showed small displays of her electic magic. "How did you do that?" Matthew said, referring to how she could use it in slight amounts. "My magic can be activated and deactivated," said the lightning adventurer, Angeldefier Manabreaker. "When it's activated, it actively eats at my mana, but that's also when it creates sparks. It gets stronger the longer I use it, so that's why I chose to have lots of mana." Her middle name "Manabreaker" gave her a 15% increase in maximum mana, and her first name, though unrelated, increased all her damage against holy beings by 5%. "Interesting. Use that skill now at the water. I want to try something..." "It will work on the water, but the water is magic-resistant to my electricity as well." "So does it work, or does it not work?" "It doesn't, practically useless, absorbed completely by the water." "Okay... then..." He just learned about the magic-resistant quality of water now. He realized something. "Does anyone have a water ability? And is it magic-resistant like the water?" One adventurer raised his hand. "I want you to use that water to block attacks." "I already do that," said the adventurer. "Okay then. Just checking." Despite his calm and rough tone, Matthew was panicking slightly inside from how much new information he was getting, his mind actively brainstorming in response to the new information as he spoke. Matthew inhaled deeply through his nose while raising his head; letting the adventurers freely interpret what that meant. He was too bothered to keep that pondering feeling inside him. "Okay, so... I've been thinking... We can try having each of you take various roles based on your certain skills." It was vague, but it was a good start. The adventurers were not doubtful whatsoever. Matthew immediately rushed to organize them, lodging them into various positions and telling them to cut down trees and position the logs around the area. His time as a beginner had inspired him to do this. It was also a good thing that he had let them take a break early yesterday. He tested various formations and positions. 'Now," he said with a smile, "I need you all to dash and run to certain positons. Working with a more open environment often involves learning how to let enemies come to you where they are more at a disadvantage and you are more at an advantage. Do not force fights, and focus on keeping the enemy chasing, while you guys secure objectives and bait the enemy into coming in. So moving around and getting used to shifts in overall team composition by position and rotation will be your essential training moving forward." He put down the metaphorical hammer, starting the training. The adventurers ran, leaping over slopes and rushing past each other. The fight was a matter of coordination and team shape and internal fabric. If the fabric could stretch and become compressed without fully becoming incorrigible, then that was great. The goal was to make their team a sponge, a mat, cotton, or a stretchable lump of rubber, endlessly subsuming new ways to express and adapt to enemies with diverse skills and team compositions. The goal was to eliminate the degree in which their enemies obliterated their focus via often temporary visual and auditory disruptions that left individual members chaotic and "selfish" in their decision-making. The goal was to maintain fabric via muscle memory and overall automaticity. Eventually, the training ended, resulting in Matthew's confidence increasing and the team becoming much more construct and conceptually reified. This was idealism at its core, turning ideas into things forethought to be impossible. He grabbed the infinite fabric that made up his broader interconnected party of parties and let it create itself, only closing his eyes, and wherever his mind said to go, it went. At a dungeon, meanwhile, several goblins found themselves turning around a corner. The simple moments were quiet and soothing, and nothing could break that. Eventually, the entrance of the dungeon made way for the whole shadow of over a hundred adventurers. The goblins saw the silence aroused to violent chaos, and their bodies were gripped by an almost spiritual necessity to depart. The holy skin of Matthew came forth. He commanded, his hands becoming like ethereal whispers in the dark, emerging again and again and reforming themselves each time in infinite succession. The infinite fabric representing the adventurers glowed and continued to reform itself as well. Great job defeating that armored goblin! You've earned a solid 42+ XP! 🎉 Bravo for vanquishing the armored goblin! Enjoy your well-deserved 42+ XP! 🎉 Congratulations on your triumph over the armored goblin! You've gained a generous 42+ XP! 🎉 Excellent work on slaying the armored goblin! Your reward: 42+ XP! 🎉 Fantastic job taking down the armored goblin! You've earned a hefty 42+ XP! 🎉 Kudos for defeating the armored goblin! Enjoy your 42+ XP reward! 🎉 Outstanding effort in defeating the armored goblin! You've earned 42+ XP! 🎉 Well played in defeating the armored goblin! Claim your 42+ XP reward! 🎉 Way to go on conquering the armored goblin! You've gained 42+ XP! 🎉 You did it! The armored goblin is no more! Enjoy your 42+ XP! 🎉 Amazing job on defeating the armored goblin! Your prize: 42+ XP! 🎉 Hooray for defeating the armored goblin! Your reward awaits: 42+ XP! 🎉 Impressive work on defeating the armored goblin! Enjoy your 42+ XP! 🎉 Magnificent victory over the armored goblin! You've earned 42+ XP! 🎉 Remarkable job on taking down the armored goblin! Claim your 42+ XP! 🎉 Superb effort in defeating the armored goblin! Your reward: 42+ XP! 🎉 Terrific work on slaying the armored goblin! You've earned 42+ XP! 🎉 Well done for conquering the armored goblin! Enjoy your 42+ XP! 🎉 Bravo! The armored goblin has been defeated! Claim your 42+ XP! 🎉 Congratulations on your victory over the armored goblin! You've gained 42+ XP! 🎉 Excellent job on vanquishing the armored goblin! Enjoy your 42+ XP! 🎉 Great work on taking down the armored goblin! Your reward: 42+ XP! 🎉 Kudos for defeating the armored goblin! You've earned a hefty 42+ XP! 🎉 Outstanding performance in defeating the armored goblin! Claim your 42+ XP! 🎉 Splendid job on defeating the armored goblin! Enjoy your 42+ XP! 🎉 Well played! The armored goblin has been vanquished! You've gained 42+ XP! 🎉 Amazing job on taking down the armored goblin! Your reward: 42+ XP! 🎉 Hooray! You've defeated the armored goblin and earned 42+ XP! 🎉 Magnificent work on conquering the armored goblin! Enjoy your 42+ XP! 🎉 Remarkable victory over the armored goblin! Claim your 42+ XP reward! 🎉 Matthew disappeared along with his infinite Hands of Creation, the infinite fabric in perfection. Underrated victory over the Great Spider Serpelvz! Claim your 1000+ XP reward! 🎉 During the fight with the boss "Great Spider Serpelvz," the adventurers used the same boat to destroy it; cancelling its magical attacks with well-coordinated magic-resistant water skills and using lightning magic to disrupt actively whenever it was midway through its attacks. Matthew rested on the seventh day of the 6th month.Chapter 51 - Convergence of Journeys: Matthew's Party as a Crucible of Fate
Shifting to one of the adventurers under Matthew, Mindcrusher Manrender, a young man, stared at a goblin. The goblin was crying, begging him to stop. He closed his eyes, stabbing it as softly as he could, only to make waves upon waves of red splat. He inhaled deeply. He exhaled deeply. He watched another goblin. The goblin ran around, wishing that he had never come here. Mindcrusher stabbed it, making colorful lines from the point of impact. Loud noises emerged from it. He inhaled deeply. He exhaled deeply. He walked up to a goblin, finding that it was younger than usual. He raised his blade and pierced through it, hundreds of particles growing in number until it consumed his vision. The blood had become everywhere. Everywhere was a violent song being sung. He made a motion with his hand. Blood poured. He slightly moved his fingers. Blood exploded. He stopped. Blood drilled deep and made pores into the ground. He inhaled deeply. He exhaled deeply. He embraced the air warmly, and it rained blood upon him. No matter what he did, it always ended with something or someone getting murked. Softly, like a pillow, he rubbed his fingers together, expressing himself with this small movement. But in this movement, his mana stirred. Soon enough, with his focus in total abandon, he created a spark—magic blooming from silence and disorientation. In this surreal moment, a feathery light was half revealed before it began to drip. The magic bursted into existence in the manifestation of a few particles. It was a tiny example of magic without skills, but it was good practice. The more in sync he was with his mana, the easier it was to cast his skills with ease. This way, the [System] could give him skills that required a higher level of mana-controlling prowess. But it didn't necessarily make his journey any easier. Afterwards, he joined many other adventurers part of Matthew's new 100-man party primarily assembled for training. But its defeat of the Great Spider Serpelvz made waves in the guild. Shifting to another adventurer under Matthew, earlier, Braindisruptor Armorbreaker, a man in his forties, stood up, finding himself on a chair. It was like he was not even here. He looked at the wall, and he saw the people on the street. But they looked to be wooden figures or puppets He didn't feel like they were human at all. Everything felt dead around him. He didn't know what this feeling was, but he remembered similar feelings when he was a teenager. But as an adult, he rarely felt the emotions of a teenager because he was much more stable, and things made more sense. However, now, he felt a sense of dissociation, and he recognized it. But it wasn't something he could describe. He was here, but he also wasn't here. How long had he been here? It was like the memories from years ago was an illusion. He walked around, and for some reason, his muscles felt like it was paper. His body was the most wooden out of all the figures he saw. He knew what he was experiencing, but he didn't know why. He realized that the past week had been a very cold-hearted him. And it manifested as dissociation. Braindisruptor ran outside, finding his way to Matthew's new party, having only joined it. Switching to a third adventurer, some time ago, Shekinah, a woman in her twenties, stood next to a fellow adventurer, Luke, in front of a troll. The troll stared between Shekinah and Luke, tears dripping down his face. "They killed my friends! My friends! You think I won't do it? I'll do it!" He held an artifact that would kill all creatures within 100 meters. "Hey!" said Luke. The troll continued: "If I die, this'll start a new war, one between you humanfolk and the trolls. You don't want that, do you? Tensions already high ever since you guys began invading goblin territory!" "Stop now..." The troll kept going: "And you all know what the recent nobles have said about the high trolls! They're not happy about our recent purchases of goblin land, and they've began blocking off our routes! You know what that means! All they need is a trigger now. Trolls have always been violent creatures, but it's only the last few centuries that we decided to be peaceful now. Now, tell me why I shouldn't do this! My friends are gone! You guys killed them, and they got away with it! Tell me! I demand an answer! Where are those adventurers! All of us are responsible! You bred those adventurers and raised them! Those were your people!" Shekinah had gotten herself involved in something she didn't want to care about. "Why the hell is it our fault? Why take everything personal?" "Shekinah!" Luke warned. "They were my friends," said the troll, "you dimwit!" "Right..." Shekinah covered her face with frustration. "But seriously, can you not? Be sensible and logical for once." "Really! After what those adventurers did! You're just going to look at your family and watch them die and do nothing about it, huh! You just laugh at them! Yeah, that's what you do! You disgusting adventurers! Horrible creatures!" Shekinah scoffed. "Says you. Just shut up. You know you're wrong. There's no reason to take it out on society just because you suck and you can't deal with loss! If you thought straight, you would have asked us about those adventurers, and just maybe, we would find out who did it. But look at you!" She didn't want to care about this conversation. She knew he was projecting her self-provocations at the troll, but honestly, if her life ended like this, she wouldn't be mad. The troll chose not to let Shekinah's provocations get to him. "They just killed my friend. What am I supposed to do!" "When?" "Hours ago! They came here, and they did it in front of me..." His voice shook with grief. Shekinah hated looking at emotion-driven behavior, and remembering her past instances of exhibiting it only intensified this aversion. "Fuck..." she said. "What can we do?" "I want those adventurers dead right now! I want the adventurers gone!" "Wait, wait, what do you mean!" "No more adventurers! They get away with anything! A bunch of disgusting lynchers!" "So you want a more centralized system? One where adventurers are much more regulated and new entrants are carefully selected by the state?" Shekinah knew where this was going. "That actually sounds like a good idea! Yeah, what you said!" "Seriously, though, why don't we just let adventurers do what they want without acccountability or repercussions like a bunch of de facto police that terrorized marginalized races?" she said sarcastically. She was not on the adventurers or the troll's side. She was just tired of politics and wanted nothing to do with it. She already knew the current political and systemic concept of adventurers was inherently unsustainable and revolved around loopholes, unenforceable laws, and de facto authority. Sooner or later, a revolution in response to the issues stemming from this concept would develop and overthrow the existing order. Magic only accelerated this process. The troll eventually calmed down, giving Shekinah time to ponder. Long afterwards, Shekinah joined Matthew's party as well. Accelerating to an wider level, each new member carrying their own experiences, Matthew's party was growing in value: each member a coin drop to the overall value. Soon, at the assembly, Shekinah, Mindcrusher Manrender, and Braindisruptor Armorbreaker were present, despite their complex past and overall history. Matthew raised his hand, as a hundred adventurers moved, each bearing their own concerns and struggles. Sooner or later, he would muster their everything. The journey was rough. They reached a dungeon, but they first set up camp as was natural. During this time, the many adventurers came into contact, conversing and networking with each other, all from different parties. Matthew saw Mindcrusher, Braindisruptor, and Shekinah, acknowledging their presence, humanity, and potential. He knew that everyone deserved a second chance, because he too knew what it was like to suffer. He disappeared into the role of divine seating. The throne of heavenly places was his rightful place. Mindcrusher approached him, and for the first time, Matthew was asked about his methods. Matthew imagined himself leaping out after his throne crumbled, shouting before falling down to a pitiable doom, "I deserve this! Give it to me!" He knew how weak he was. But he had to get into the role. Raising his arms like he was holding a flag, he stood up and said that it depended on context and situation. "Often times," he said, "strategies and tactics were situational. The details were almost always situational. Any technique or skill or usage of any output-giving thing resulted in a need for an adapatable approach. Sometimes, relying on the same methods did work, but it was more due to a matter of methodology and the right leaders ensuring that this methodology worked sustainably and consistently through other less obvious aspects concerning it. All in all, it depends." He wore his purple and yellow clothes, standing with a smirk. The greatness pouring out of his lungs, he stood, the angelic songs of heaven tunneling vastly around this place, his soul cracking, then glowing, and then revealing a magnificent creature. This creature was his heart. His heart would be the ember crashing everything down. He gritted his teeth. Nothing got in his way. The adventurers stood before him, looking outward. Matthew walked as if he was a baby imp crawling on four legs. This humble disposition only magnified the greatness that he could barely hide. The crawling violent creature emerged within him, and he knew that with everything, to entertain and catch others' attention was to live. Soon, this monstrosity reverted back to his human form. It was all metaphorical, but it demonstrated that nothing ever lasted, including his disguise. If he needed to express humility, he would. If anger, anger. If rage, rage. If heavenly grandiosity, then heavenly grandiosity. He would not be hindered. The dungeon in front of him hummed, as monsters crawled out of the depths. He knew them by heart, waving his hand and pouring his commands and decrees like a king playing a board game on a map and transmitting real-time decisions. The monsters called out before retreating to the darkness. They hadn't even entered the dungeon yet, but they had defended their position from the camp. Matthew couldn't stop now, but his hands were shaking. He didn't actually know a lot about this world even now. His strategy was systematic, but it didn't harness all the details of this world. So he felt that he was very close to encountering an enemy that would apply the same turn-the-boat-into-a-torpedo strategy to him, basically ruining all sort of sense applicable on Earth with some rule-breaking skill or succession of strategies. The closer he got to success, the more he found himself needing to take deep breaths. He was this close. He said before coming to the assembly earlier: "Please... "Don't kill me now." Returning to the present, he remembered the dragon he had seen back during the war against Mawkery, deciding that it was advisable to leave the area because he got a bad omen. After the assembly dispersed, Matthew returned to the inn to relax, worried that the dragon was indeed coming to get him after all the successes he had experienced so far. He fantasized about hiding as an immortal, hermit in the very vast isolated wilderness until he became someone completely different. The good thing about having the assembly disperse then was that it was advisable to wait until his performance anxiety subsided. Once he made that conclusion, he returned to calm. [Calm Walker]: All calming and mindfulness effects on you is increased by 10%!Chapter 52 - The Communion of Witchman
The next day, Matthew found himself wandering in front of a cave entrance alone. He wanted to get his skills back by completing the [System] quest. Sure, he could get new skills, but after visiting Sophia earlier, he needed stability and a sense of continuity. So he wanted them back out of a desire to restore what had been. But it was also true that he used to have strong skills. The quest demanded that he killed the troll. Objective: Embark on a perilous journey into the depths of the dungeon to reclaim your lost levels and skills by defeating the formidable troll that dwells within. The text returned to the word "dungeon" after it changed to "rainforest." It did provide him with real-time status of the dungeon's general location. But he didn't know which dungeon. The rest of the text in the quest notification didn't help much. It did tell him to hire sages or scholars, so since he wasn't in a hurry to get his quests just yet, he decided to visit a familiar group of six adventurers that he wasn't able to invite to the previous coalition. Later, waiting for the six adventurers, he stood on a large flat stretch of urban land, gazing at the plenteous roads and buildings all around. Looking at this, he was overwhelmed with the idea that he would never be able to comprehend any of this. He would never know what it was like to live here, and even if he did, he would miss out on a lot that happened while he focused on his personal goals and concerns. The world was a vast place, yet it felt so small and lonely sometimes. But that was only because he stayed too much inside the guild and the dungeon. When he was at the forest, it was always for a singular reason, never giving himself time to explore for the sake of exploring and not for some other primary reason. This feeling, world, and logic were of a plentiful, abundant, copious, ample, profuse, rich, lavish, liberal, generous, bountiful, large, huge, great, bumper, flush, overflowing, superabundant, infinite, inexhaustible, opulent, prolific, teeming, and bounteous nature galore. He would never find that meaning. Ten million memories shifted through his mind, and every sensation came alive in his bones, soul, heart, and spirit. How many lives had he lived? He funnelled all of it into his hands. Today, he would move on with this specific route, approach, strategy, plan, life, direction, movement, storm, happy place, environment, place, area, game, and fun place to be. Having spent so much time living life to the fullest, the synonyms each brought up a unique branch of memories for him. After meeting the adventurers, he began a conversation. Maybe, in these silent movements, his life (past experiences) would become manifest. The villain Witchman made his appearance, clinking tea with his contemporaries and forging alliances in order to rule the world. The six adventurers, having waited for him at the wrong place, smirked, devilish brows and expressions sharpening like fierce lions striking against the earth. The powers that were showed themselves here. And many would be affected by this communion. Witchman would soon raise an army for himself, directly transforming the 100-man party to his own private force, using up the gold coins earned from the quests to pay for his members. Returning to the moment, in the distance, two siblings were laughing next to a tall summoned male muscular demon with a skull head. Witchman saw that, even after seeing all kinds of strange and unique people throughout his time here. For one, in the distance, a man walked next to a levitating fish-like creature holding something that resembled a balloon. The man wore a muted-green cloak. This cloak had a diamond-shaped hood with a blue line from across its center from the front edge of the top to the back edge. Moreover, he wore a red pouch resting against his left waist with the strap on his right shoulder. He also wore a white shirt inside and short trousers. His hair was spiky and pointed toward the front. This was one example of how unique each individual was. This extended to those three adventurer-bandits he killed before. Before their deaths, they were each a human being in his own right. The first was tall and handsome, with a strong jawline and piercing blue eyes. He had long, dark hair that fell down his back in waves. He was wearing a black coat over a white shirt, and black trousers. He had a gold chain around his neck, and a gold belt around his waist. He was also wearing a pair of black boots. He had large, orange wings that were spread out behind him. He was standing in front of a stained glass window, and there were flowers and smoke around him. The second was a young man who was often seen sitting perched on a stone ledge, his posture relaxed yet alert. His fiery red hair, windblown and wild, framed a face of delicate features and a thoughtful expression. His eyes, a deep blue, were cast downwards, as if lost in contemplation. He was dressed in a vibrant blue jacket adorned with intricate gold embroidery, the open collar revealing a hint of his chest. His trousers, of the same rich blue, were tucked into sturdy leather boots that reached his mid-calf. A crimson sash was tied around his waist, adding a touch of regality to his attire. Resting beside him, its feathers a vibrant echo of his hair, was a majestic phoenix. The bird's presence exuded an air of power and serenity, mirroring the young man's own quiet strength. The third was tall and slender, with long, flowing brown hair and a handsome face. He wore a grey doublet with gold embroidery and a red sash. His pants were black and his boots were brown. He was juggling a white ball in his right hand and had his left hand outstretched. He would often be found standing in front of a swirling orange and yellow background, with red berries growing on trees on either side of him. The ground beneath his feet was a dark, swirling mass. Witchman closed his eyes. He made the three adventurer-bandits meaningless before his eyes again, rendering them formless and uninterpretable. He would do it again and again, a mix of blue and green with a touch of gray shining from his lips and into the ethereality. He broke the whip that kept his presence hindered, flowing through and through. His words represented this ethereal dance, and soon, the six adventurers hearkened unto him, bemused at how magnificent his splendor was—a self-affirming loop geared toward apotheosis. When he opened his heart, he began raising his hands, and the skill [Phantom Shield] emerged, embracing his skin and blocking the damage. This was representatational, and soon enough, symbolically, the hands of the adventurers and Witchman were declared to remain clasped unto great new deeds. Matthew became Witchman, and Witchman became Matthew. He walked toward the horizon, as a host of men and women clanged alongside behind him. The champion of glory and hope was His Name. He Became A Crucial Element of Life and Death. He Was The Savior of Them All. He embraced the earth, and all its peoples became his slaves. Witchman opened his eyes. The coffee cups clinked together, breaking his imagination. It was grandiose and full of splendor, but it was only his in his mind. The people around him were grounded and full of the elements of humanity, the earth, and even the sea as they drank liquids and ate the juice of fruits. This was the ocean making its way to their hearts. In the end, Matthew was all alone. His thoughts marred him as him. He agreed with the six adventures, and they soon ended their discussion. It would involve staging an attack at a dungeon—a typical day. Matthew looked around him, wishing for splendor for the third time, but he found nothing except the sombering dirt. He took a deep breath and moved on. [Calm Walker]: All calming and mindfulness effects on you is increased by 10%! However mundane his world was, his ideals would eventually penetrate the hexagonal barrier fabric sphere of magic, control, power, and longer society. His eyes grossly widened, he disappeared into the masses, a pop of energy representing his existence among an eternity of people. The beats of the drums would sound. He would not lay down in silence. He would not keep his mouth shut. He would not laugh when the bough broke. He would be present, tending to it and using it as a stepping stone to greater heights even. He whirled inwardly in reverses, upside-down motions, and inversions and then outwardly. He became an amorphous creature. The loudest scream was in cursive.At the dungeon, Matthew stared at several goblins. Conversing with them, he asked whether they participated in training or any kind of sports like tournaments. When he heard a yes to both, he smiled, laughing, saying: "That's good. You guys want to try...?" He was referring to what he mentioned earlier. "But are we even allowed there really?" said one of the goblins. "Slaves are allowed, so you guys are allowed, but you won't be slaves, don't worry." Matthew managed to make friends with several goblins after he did the one thing no other adventurer did—he communicated. But he was still well-known as a murderer. The good thing was that Witchman was not Matthew. Matthew separated himself mentally from that person. Witchman was just a construct, and he could easily deconstruct it like he had disbanded the last coalition. This Witchman thing was not real, and it didn't have to impinge upon the more pressing needs of uniting goblins and humans, even in small steps overtime. The goblins then came under his wing, and Matthew sponsored them to fight in a tournament. He had never gone to a tournament, so this was his first. The zooming sounds of battle flowed through the air, as if smacking all the raised cheering hands in the tournament dome. The goblins were only watching for now, but soon, it would be their turn. It was expected for them to wait eight days, so Matthew was careful to stay alert because he couldn't rest until these goblins got their chance. Soon enough, with Matthew keeping himself appropriately distant yet present and listening, the goblins found a protector in him. 8 days later, Matthew stared, his eyes dark with exhaustion and an overwhelming sense of disorientation. He spent all these time making sure that the goblins were allowed inside, contacting many friends and trying to get into contact with people relevant to this objective. It took 8 days since it was something new to him. Even with a network of his own, it was still localized within a tiny adventurer sphere. The goblins walked their first steps in the arena, preparing their swords. They were not Tamer's trained goblins, but Matthew did make sure to instruct them about some strategy. Though, he knew he didn't spent much time at all instructing them and felt that they had so much room to imporve. The goblins lost immediately. But Matthew was patient, influencing them as well to compose themselves. After all, Matthew needed trusted goblins to hunt down the troll. The goblins laughed and smiled. Numbers added to the count. When viewed from a more rational lens, monitoring the goblins's wellbeing and perfomance synchronously promoted an approach of linear growth, assuming an optimal vacuum. However, he didn't need to boost their wellbeing and performance when it came to the tournament maximally. The help he could give was little, but it was little enough that he wasn't spending too much time on it, but enough that the goblins would improve slightly and find confidence in him as a result. In the end, his objective was to have the goblins help him hunt down the troll to retrieve his levels and skills, and that could mean that minimal effort to help them on his part was sufficient. Of course, the more information, the better, but expending energy into monitoring the goblins' sublter aspects might be unoptimal when taking into account his broader responsibilities and priorities. A systematic approach might find incorporating fine, precise injections of confidence-building at the goblins informally and incidentally rather than as a main methodological focus moving forward to yield a pronounced rate of responsiveness than if approached with more formal intentions—in favor of a bottom-up style as opposed to a top-down one. Vignettes of focused thought emerged preferentially after a sequence of rounds monopolized by vividness, entrenched action, and internal asynchrony. This was not special whatsoever, and it was a natural response to his ever-changing personhood and to common dynamics characterizing multiple dimensions of experience, marked by interplays of social, cultural, geographical, and physical factors. He slowed down, appreciating the butterly passing by him. As a consequence of the depth in which his systematization surveyed, his brain needed a break, so he cheered at the goblins before him, wishing them good luck. The goblins had their confidence boosted. A simple sign of support was all they needed. Even with lives so simply defined, they still made waves upon waves in the world. They just needed a chance, or one shot, or one opportunity. And Matthew was that hand stretching into the darkness from the light.
Chapter 53 - The Thralls of Justice: Matthew's Controversial Decision
However, soon enough, Matthew decided to have the goblins join him on a quest. He introduced them as slaves, explaining that he would merely use them. As for why he did this, a burning sense of curiosity that had started since the death of Sophia and his exploration of the city of Power, the second city that he encountered in this world, among every other experience. This was a breaking point for him, and one that manifested in a desire to help and to create life out of the darkness. Expanding our perspective, it had been exactly six months and 15 days since he first came to this world—a long and intense enough span of time to signal an opportunity to shift his strategy. In the end, if the goblins could become the instrument through which he could release all those building emotions inside, then that would be justice in itself. His questionable methods could be compared to a man forcing himself to take up a new hobby, such as going to the gym, after his former girlfriend had just broken up with him. Even if he had been tortured about goblins and entertained his aversion toward adventuring and the moral quandaries thereof, sometimes the toxic relationship (or a codependent one or a dysfunctional family) was just too sweet, and he had no one else to turn to. To explain this sense of loneliness, everyone he knew only supported him as an adventurer and not as the human being that conflicted with this role and identity. Ultimately, aiding the goblins and transforming them into reusable items offered a thrilling alternative to adventuring, even if it was altogether risky. The problem about people like Matthew was they were rationally irrational, internally logical but when viewed in the real world, they were out of touch. In minds like these, even contradictory elements were harmonious. But that was just about everyone, because even the most contradictory of things could find a silver lining in which they bloomed in concert. His emotions were present, yet he knew to hide it. His logic was present, yet his jet lag (changing sleep schedules and disrupting his circadian rhythms to be present at quests and events) had gotten to him many times. The mystical and fortunate thing was that Matthew had improved far beyond any average human back on Earth, and people saw that level of awesomeness. If they knew his internal struggles that denoted his humanity, they might found it challenging to appreciate his greatness. That was why he hid it like many other leaders in power, because his reputation and the abstract symbol of an unrealistic idealized male adventurer mattered more instead. It was fantastical that he had even improved so much since day 1, but the struggles that he suppressed psychologically, if revealed, would invalidate his above-average contributions. People wanted change or the maintenance of nostalgic ideals that had never existed except in the mind. He would answer them and convince the world that he was special when he was not. He would become the epitome of grace and beauty when he was just a regular man. He would become Aba-Oh-Rah. Returning closer to reality, earlier, before he introduced the goblins as slaves for a quest, at the tournament, one of the goblins struck gold when he struck one of them on the neck. It was a simple stab, but his opponent was already twirling on the ground like a bunch of snakes strewn and sewn together. After this opponent lost his life, the goblins kept a loose wedge formation, as ordered by Matthew. To elucidate upon this, it was only one method. However, the looseness allowed them to mitigate the damage from area-of-effect skills, while the wedge aspect allowed them to keep a sharp point and mobility in the event of a suddenly vulnerable opponent. Moreover, by the use of natural obstacles and terrain contours, this formation naturally created chokepoints, funnelled opponents into awkward positions, and provided cover for its members, especially at the rear, in comparison to the more linear, man-on-man face-off provided by a line formation. This was why their wedge consisted of two layers with a front line and a back line similar to two chevrons stacked together. Regarding the terrain use, the good thing was that the arena was set in the middle of a forest-like area with sparse trees available enough to be relevant but few enough for the audience to watch with ease. To sum, this loose wedge formation was better than staying tight together or in a line formation where it was much easier to hit them from ranged area-of-effect attacks. However, as mentioned earlier, with this formation, they charged at opponents that became suddenly vulnerable. During this time, they temporarily crowded together, surrounded the opponent, neutralized them, and then reverted to their formation. But sometimes, a linear approach was necessary to help them hide while maintaining vision over opponents. Moving in a line was also helpful, but they rarely implemented it in the arena since its size was limited. However, it was much bigger than what Matthew knew arenas to be, because the members equipped a binocular-like tool that allowed them to see farther. This tool was relevant in previous quests and combat. For each kill the goblins got, they got a notification distinct from what Matthew received. +76 XP 1+ skill point (Lvl. 9 Gladiator) +103 XP 1+ skill point (Lvl. 15 Gladiator) All of them levelled up to level 2 because the XP was shared between them. One of the goblins checked his status page. Name: Render Species: Goblin Age: 6 Skills: Red Bite Spells: None / None Vitality: 8 When it came to Matthew's perspective, he pondered about a pattern he had noticed for a long time now, but he never truly felt sure. Regular adult goblins only gave 7 XP on kill, and armored goblins gave 42 XP. It was a 600% increase when they were armoed. So regular adult humans probably gave around 30 XP, and if armored, they possibly gave 180 XP. As for levels, most of the goblins he had killed were only level 1, and it was probably because they often died immediately before killing enough creatures to level up. When it came to the number of XP levels added to the result, he guessed that it added 10 XP per level. However, he couldn't truly be sure since he had never killed enemies that varied in level to test. Moreover, he hadn't killed enough humans to see what adventurers and gladiators gave. He also wondered whether the class of an adventurer mattered or existed. The [System] never addressed it, so he didn't ever ask about it. Speaking of classes, he remembered the tanner from City of Power and decided that he would visit him a month from now. Continuing this line of thought, he had a list of names that he wanted to visit in person, having listed them down in bullet points: Sophia, Drakekiller Rollingthunder, Tanner, Tamer Languiosse, Thorne, Elara, Lumi, Desmond Leroy, Jayce, Richard, Kairo, Nova, Ella, Prism, Ada, Echo, Elena, Liam, Finesse (goblin), Deathbringer (Ray), Brandon (Redspiller Warmaker), Brackern (Suneater Herculeanridder), Michel (Doomsinger Mighttaker), the people at the homeless shelter, Zephyrine Quill, Thaddeus Pumpernickel, Seraphina Wisteria, Mortimer Quixote, Calliope Snickerdoodle, Bartholomew Wombatish, Rodney Callous, Bishop Dan, Drakekiller Rollingthunder (duplicate entry), Johun (priest), Herblord, Abyssalfurnace, Zoey, Basewars, Finnegan "Finn" Swiftwater, Isadora "Izzy" Wildwood, Declan "Dex" Stoneheart, Lila "Lark" Moonshadow, Elias "Eli" Sunfire, Angeldefier Manabreaker, Mindcrusher Manrender, the troll, Mawkery, Mark Reader, Grimtusk. As for those he had reunited with in the last coalition, he wasn't really able to catch up, so he wanted to talk to them one-on-one and ask how they were doing similar to what he did with the six adventurers. Though, even his discussion with them was more serious and concerned a future dungeon visit instead of an intimate conversation between friends. As for Finesse and Sophia, both of whom had passed, he wanted to visit their graves. He had been visiting Finesse' grave since it was right in front of his cottage, but he felt like keeping his name in his list as a reminder. As for who Finesse was, he was the goblin he had signed a contract with. Concerning Grimtusk and the troll, his goal was to beat them eventually. Now that Matthew had laid out and addressed many concerns weighing on his mind, he focused his attention on the goblins. They soon lost, but fortunately, they were not killed because they killed at least two other as a team. To clarify, the tournament preferred team-based combat. Now that Matthew had prepared the goblins, he returned to his 100-man party, bringing the 15 goblins in and explaining their status as thralls. He even made them engage in back-breaking labor to demonstrate. Quickly, the adventurers pretended to accept it and moved on. The goblins also relished the opportunity like a bunch of new poor, possibly recently emigrated, marginalized workers moving awkwardly in the background of a bunch of potbellied wealthy mouth-stuffers—an uncommon but distinct sight back on Earth. The awkwardness displayed by these goblins due to their unfamiliarity with human and adventurer culture contributed to this idea that they were dirty, unrefined, ugly, disgusting, unbearable, lazy, stupid, and dangerous—uncommon but distinct derogatory terms used to describe street kids by those attending expensive colleges. Classism and racism were alive and breathing even here. And hiding them was a trait of the out-of-touch. However, Matthew was trying his best to even the playing ground while still not demanding too much from the adventurers to empathize with the goblins. He was also a hypocrite, but he had to do his best today. It was better than giving up on a human being, or a humanoid in this case. He understood what he was doing was relatively extreme. Speaking of egalitarian values often involved "inequality" among already wealthy and powerful humans and not between the rich and the poor and between humans and goblins. It was the selective nature of the values touted by human intellectuals. The thing was that it was not Matthew's fault. He didn't care about or want their politics. But he knew he had to care about their strong views if he wanted to work with them. He hated politics. Honestly, he wanted to just murder these adventurers and these goblins altogether. He was so tired of their pettiness, between full-fledged adults nonetheless. It was tiresome and infuriating. If he could grab an explosive artifact and burn this city down along with its putrid stains that never went away, that would be splendid. He hated this essence of Disgust. But he had to be the patient, polite, and objective person, being the symbol of heavenly places and the divine deserving destiny of adventurerdom. It was stupid, but it was how easily influenced people were that he had to engage in this out-of-touch grandiose behavior. Even killing thousands would not be enough for them. He needed to kill millions on the first day before they wouldn't call him unintelligent, as if intelligence was dictated by the ability to destroy. In the end, he was taking care of a bunch of babies who suckled ideals that would never come true, striving so arrogantly and abandoning human beings in the process. That was his reality. He had to face it, even if he had been ignoring these political and social aspects all this time. So he decided that the best thing to do now was to bring down the pinnacle of superiority. No one would blame him for doing this act. This pinnacle could be anything. And no one would blame him as long as he expressed his great destiny. He went to a dungeon along with the 6 adventurers, his 100-man party, and the 15 goblins. Time was ticking. He would enslave this civilization. He had to help someone. He had to do something this time. He couldn't just sit still and watch his brothers suffer. But he was just playing the showman, right?Chapter 54 - Laughing at the Face of Death
Matthew laughed at the face of death, because he himself got tired of living. He struck hundreds of mad goblins and charged across them, imitating Zoey's way of fighting. He laughed genuinely when one of the giant ants tripped, the thrill bursting through the seams. The adventurers charged in multiple lines, while Matthew drew a children's drawing with his hand imagitively. He created a mental map of the dynamic environment, adapting to the changes with a childish grin on his face. He was like a child again, curiously exploring a vast world of newness and novel things. He loved exploration and learning. The boat skill flew at his side, lighting bursted from one of the mages, water blocked magical attacks from the enemy, goblins adopted a wedge formation, the six adventurers unleashed their skill combos, and he kept a line of communication weaving it all together. He laughed at the face of death, guffawing. The pummelling power his army exerted was beautiful like a bunch of toy blocks arranging together on the tilted floor of his former family apartment home. He missed the feeling of fun for the first time. He danced and sang. The sky rewarded him with levels and swathes of XP across the adventurerhood making up his group. He loved them, and he had fun! He loved the sounds of heaven, and it was all around him. He grabbed a dead giant ant's leg, and he bit it. He bit and bit, chewing it and trying to swallow it. The inside of his mouth bled. He healed himself. It tasted so good. All the while, he fulfilled his role as a commander. His eccentricities didn't go unnoticed, as the adventurers had begun calling him endearing nicknames among themselves. This denoted something more awe-inspiring than a simple nickname. It pointed to their disciplined and coordinated rallying under someone whose quirks and astounding strength and wisdom painted him as a larger-than-life figure. Coincidentally, in the ongoing dungeon fight, Deathbringer made a surprise appearance orchestrated by Matthew, jovially bringing his own new party. He made his own slice of pie in the fight. Anyway, when Matthew ate the ant leg earlier, he didn't notice it, but he gained a new passive skill: [XP Gain Upon Eating Ant Legs]. Basically, he gained 10 XP each time he ate an ant leg. So he began eating all the giant ant legs, cleaning them all up. It was a simple, fun away for him to do something that felt good and tasted good. +10 XP (Eating Giant Ant Leg) He noticed something strange about this notification. The more he spent time with the goblins, the more his notifications began emulating theirs. Even his kill notifications earlier had the same format. +90 XP (Lvl. 1 Giant Ant) The songs of grace had blessed his awakening and presence. Now, the giant ants came in waves before him. But he was free to dance in the wind. The skill blasts of the ants were blocked by large barriers of magic shaped like a curvilinear square attached to them above the adventurer mages' heads. The giant ant that had turned huge magically stood up and raised her hands, crushing rocks before using the kinetic energy to blast waves of light. The adventurer formations were stunned, but Matthew stood up and led the way, smoothing out the coalescing and shifts in this concentric attack around the huge ant. Soon enough, the huge ant stumbled, making a whirring sound like a giant crane, before falling sideways to the ground. The large impact made waves of dust that troubled adventurers who had allergies. The aftermath left the adventurers in a state of disarray, but they were prepared, immediately bringing out the containers and the vast amounts of preparations and resources they moved to the entrance of this dungeon chamber of epic proportions before the fight started. Matthew had been part of that setting up process and was now part of the active carrying out of the party's primary strategies. The secondary strategies were spearheaded by people like Mindcrusher, Braindisruptor, and Shekinah. In the end, this dungeon chamber was now under their control, offering a new mana mine for the city. The monster farm that could be made from it would take very long to set up, so that was outside short-term considerations and even many long-term perspectives. It was for those who expressed years in decades or centuries even. Later, Matthew fell to the floor next to his cottage mat bed, having tired himself out. He had to keep hiding this side of him, but it wasn't as if his fellow adventurers didn't know what he was like at all. Ever since he lost his levels and skills, they knew. They knew it wasn't easy for him to reach this far in life, because it came at the cost of his own sanity sometimes. But he was glad that he did his best today. These negative emotions were only temporary because he was sleepy. He soon fell asleep, his body lying on the floor, breathing without pause, still damp from his profuse sweating earlier. It was so hot in this climate, but it also rained a lot. It was the tropical rainforest climate where it never snowed. Elsewhere, a shadow watched him. It was the [System]. He still wanted Matthew to grow further, so that was why he kept an eye on him. The gods that had given Matthew 12,000 XP were still there, and the [System] naturally took that into account when judging his next actions in regard to Matthew. Matthew had planned to relax tomorrow, visit some friends, and maybe even do simple quests. The next day, he sat up, finding his mat so hot. He got up and looked outside. It was yellow and intense like being on Mars. He walked outside and found that he didn't want to do so. He wasn't invulnerable, so he would rather just be lazy for a little while longer. He lacked sleep. This was the case usually. He went outside, weirded out by the trees, even if he had seen them so many times before. Anyway, his day of rest began. To start, he sat still in his cottage, playing a small game with his things. He played for the duration of his waking time, which was 9 hours past the normal waking hours, but he also played hours past my waking time. He stayed up for past 9 hours probably. So last week, Deathbringer asked Matthew if he wanted to go with him to the villagers, and Matthew said yes. Deathbringer told Matthew this during his trip and that of Matthew, his cousin, and his father to Manban where they visited a new coffee shop with a gorgeous vantage point in the direction of a volcano and went to a forest called "Westbrook." To be more clear, this was "Westbrook Forest" in "South Falsey" in Redmint, Sundula near Manban. However, when the day came for them to travel, which was rescheduled due to strong rain that led to the river which they would have to pass to get to the villagers becoming too high for us to pass, Deathbringer forgot to bring Matthew. While Deathbringer, his cousin, and his father were traveling by wagon probably 5 to 10 minutes away from the city, they remembered and went back to get Matthew. So he got wind of this while he was still in his cottage, having finished a game round. He asked Deathbringer if they were leaving already, and Deathbringer said that he wanted to eat first. So in the meantime, he lay down, and he ended up falling asleep. One of Deathbringer's party members tried to wake him up, but Matthew told him that Deathbringer was still eating. After Matthew fell asleep again, Deathbringer's cousin woke him up, and by that time, Deathbringer and Deathbringer's father "Lyko" were there at the way station. So Matthew went with Deathbringer's cousin, only bringing himself only with my adventurer clothes without any artifacts. He rode at the front passenger seat of the wagon, and he noticed the bags filling up the back passenger seat. So once they reached the way station where Deathbringer was, Matthew and the cousin brought down the bags one by one and had them sit a short distance away from the door of the carriage. So after some communication with the carriage guard, they got him to open up the magical chest of the carriage where people placed items that would be hard or impossible bringing onto the carriage itself. Indeed, in Matthew's case, since their bags and wrapped books were many and heavy, it was much more convenient that they placed them in the chest on the side of the carriage. So after saying goodbye to Deathbringer's cousin, Matthew, Deathbringer, and his father went inside the carriage and sat down at the very back, bringing in boxes that they leaned against the top of the seats at the very back and the back wall of the carriage itself. Shifting to their time at the carriage, they were greeted with a diverse line-up of people over the long hour they waited there for the carriage to accumulate passengers since it was the last round of that bus for the night. Once the carriage was full, he saw a chubby woman on the right side of the bus from his vantage point right subsequent to us in terms of seating arrangement. Basically, she was seated second to last, as they were seated at the very back at the last seat section. So viewing it forward from their vantage point put her subsequent to us in the domain of order. Transitioning to this particular view with them as the first row that encompassed both left and right seating columns, he saw a group of youth on the fourth row to their left, and they sat next to Deathbringer on the second row to their left. Deathbringer asked him to move the box to his left away from the man coming into the carriage along the way and onto the stack of boxes on Deathbringer's lap. Lyko, the family friend, sat on the window seat to Matthew's right, while he sat around the middle of the two-column seat section. Deathbringer sat between Lyko and Matthew. During their time waiting for passengers to accumulate and during the time the bus was already moving, he struck a conversation with Deathbringer with regard to his adventuring and learning experience. This conversation turned into a long discussion that led to his time there seeming the most sophisticated out of all of the interactions that did happen inside the carriage. It was the kind of discussion one would have at a seminar. In addition to this point, it made his time there easier and more relaxing enough that he was able to relax. Though, when a couple of passengers entered and sat down next to him on his left, leaving hin little room to stretch and move on my seat, he began to feel a little uncomfortable. However, this was temporary, and soon enough, Matthew's group moved to the second or third row to my left. Moving on to our time outside the carriage at Salas when they were heading to the actual port building itself, this was the most sudden aspect of our travel. When they exited the carriage, the bags and books were brought onto a wagon, and this allowed him to observe around and note in his head regarding the gravel on the ground, which he would continue to note and observe later. Lyko rode this wagon, while Matthew and Deathbringer walked around. Deathbringer pushed along a cart and carried the boxes we brought on it, while Matthew only walked alongside. Once they were closer to the port building at the end of the wagon's destination, the wagon driver helped them move their items further inside past a checkpoint with signs that communicated with respect to what wasn't allowed to bring to the ship such as artifacts and pork. After placing their bags on the side under this group of signs, they then moved them one by one inside the port building itself with the passing attention of the guards and soldiers stationed there and the help of one adventurer guard. After they went inside, Deathbringer joined a long waiting line for a particular enterprise's ships, and Matthew noticed that this was the longest waiting line besides another line that was similarly long. Though, these two lines were the only ones that were noticeably long. After they got their ticket, they waited on the many seats of the large building, and he was able to eat both pork adobo and ampalaya from one of the stalls there. As for one of the many passing interactions of Deathbringer, he communicated with one or two vendors about a certain older woman who used to be a vendor here at the place; though, even after repeated clarification, the vendors claimed that they didn't know who that person was. Walking around left Matthew conspicuous enough that people glanced at him for longer than usual, as he was the only one wearing adventurer clothes and carrying nothing else for the most part. He did help carry the bags from under the signs to the port building, but this was a relatively short distance in comparison to what was coming later. During their wait for the ship to come and the time for passengers to enter came, they stayed for two hours or so and used their time to eat, lie down and rest, change seating, stand around, and use the latrines there, among others. In addition, Deathbringer relocated items among their bags to make them more concise for carrying. Once the time came for passengers to board the ship, they went outside the port building and had to walk a very long way to the ship. During this time, they carried bags one by one, because according to Lyko, they didn't know about the shuttle that could have brought the bags for them instead. This was the most difficult part of the journey, as one of the bags was very heavy. The worst part was that this was the first bag that he carried in that series of carrying to the ramp of the ship. Progressing to a more visceral level, he was in so much pain when he carried this first bag that he began thinking philosophically while carrying. Moreover, he never put down this bag for what felt like the duration of 15 minutes of carrying this heavy bag after months of an exhaustingly active lifestyle. It was so painful that it would be the most distinct memory of the trip. Returning to the ramp of the ship, it was here that the ship staff brought it to one side inside the ship where the vehicles parked. The smiles and interest of the staff as Matthew carried the bags one by one gave a sense of ease and humor despite the difficulty of exerting a great deal of effort after months of pushing himself physically. After carrying many bags and even jogging and sprinting to get the rest of the bags toward the end of our series of carrying bags, they finally entered the ship, being the last passengers to board. However, during this series, they did pass many checkpoints on the way, getting the attention of stationed guards and passing staff. Namely, one passing ship staff even helped me find one ball toy that dropped from a bag midway to the ship. Once they were inside, they were more relaxed and confident despite being very sweaty. The people noticed them in light of the fact that they were the last ones to board. But Matthew's conspicuous positive and confident mood looked unusual in a plethora of people mentally prepared to wait for the ship to reach its destination in some discomfort. However, he brought my optimism and sense of relief in a strong way, having long casual conversations with Deathbringer with regard to many things. During this extended interaction, they caught the attention of nearby passengers, considering that he spoke in what sounded like adventurer English or wealthy cityfolk English, especially here in this region. It wasn't really English, but since it was the language Matthew knew how to speak by default, he just called it English for convenience's sake. Anyway, he was very confident that he took on whatever pose he wanted in order to feel comfortable, and he was standing by the side of the ship, looking at the sea water. He wasn't afraid to sit on my haunches or squat down, and he wasn't afraid to be honest about growing up and playing outdoor children's games like langit lupa as a child. He wasn't afraid to talk about more personal things, and that imagery of confidence likely became imprinted as part of a broader understanding into his personality accessible for use by Deathbringer and Lyko. Anyway, after the trip ended, Matthew was able to rest his mind and regain his sanity. At the villages, he learned that magically vaccinating them from tropical diseases such as dengue was a regular procedure. Also, he discovered that it was not going to be easy to start a farm, considering that he needed farmers already skilled in slash-and-burn farming or terrace agriculture due to the high density of the jungle. And that sounded much harder than tending to open fields. Back at the cottage, he noticed that his status page had taken on a new appearance. He wondered if the [System] was continuously updating itself, considering that it nerfed his [Whirlwind Whirl] in the past. Level 1 Range - 300 (1 meter) Weapon - Sword (Wooden) Money - 5$ Health - 100/100 Mana - 50/50 Spells - Fire Blast, Ice shot Armor - N/A Strength (STR) - 10 Dexterity (DEX) - 10 Constitution (CON) - 10 Intelligence (INT) - 10 Wisdom (WIS) - 10 Charisma (CHA) - 10 Luck (LUK) - 10 Description - Gobby the Goblin. They found a spellbook one day and learned fire and ice spells. Now, armed with a wooden sword, Gobby protects the forest from Shadow Sprites, spreading joy on their adventures. But he didn't understand what this was supposed to mean. The [System] emerged and said: "Oh, sorry, that's the wrong status page. We'll fix it right back." He chuckled. Eventually, Matthew clasped hands with the [System] again, making a big smile on his face. He was in a good mood.Chapter 55 - The Coalition Rises: Uniting Against Grimtusk
Shifting to a sudden breakdown of the gates of a remote village, villagers ran, embracing the wind. Grimtusk was coming along with his lackies: Maestro and Deadmeateater. The villagers rushed down the hill, looking around. Villagers strewn all throughout the battlefield, who had been struck by Maestro's traps, smiled, blood streaming down the top of their head, their eyes wet with tears. The villagers who lived continued, their faces striken with grief. They had to keep going. Grimtusk raged upon the streets of Zaun. The villagers fled down into the cave chambers, huddling up in a corner. If they could hide... A ice sword struck them. Deadmeateater's exhausted face emerged. The goblins jumped and fled. Two were too injured to go on. Deadmeateater brutally ran after them, striking them down again and again. Grimtusk's shadow stretched further, influencing Deadmeateater down the path of glory. The villagers fell to the earth, their bodies wet like sand on a beach. The eyes of God stared upon them, and they were glad to have lived. Deadmeateater was no longer to be seen, because they were already dead. He had moved on past them. Their bodies lay on the cave floor, their faces and expressions still, their eyes lifeless. Their fleeting souls were the only left to observe the scene. The villagers only wanted to make cake, cut trees, and eat bread, their lives streaming down to a river of blood created by Grimtusk the Wise. His form took up space as a giant statue over the horizon. He was their All-father. Shifting to one villager's perspective, his name was Noah, a young man who warned the world of a coming flood. This flood would not be a physical one, but it would be the Grimtusk: "Then," he said, "shall the Grimtusk be likened unto a flood of waters..." The smile on his face was one with a long past and a heavy longing for peace and prosperity—that his brethren and friends lay in peace was all he wanted. He fell to the earth, embracing the ground. But with this expression of defeat, he used a skill. He ran, charging the Grimtusk. But he was far, and the waves of villagers pushing back against his team was dwindling. Noah kept running, wishing to embrace defeat, but his heart knew that Heaven had given him victory. He struck Grimtusk, wishing only harm upon his being. But the more harm people wished upon him, the more Grimtusk knew strategically where and how to adjust his team to optimal effectiveness. He immediately destroyed them, having utilized his eye-catching presence as bait. He was not their friend. He was not their enemy. But today, he would be whatever people needed him to be. The cries of hands tearing through the barriers he had placed to prevent burnout and insanity broke through and made him their slave. He was a slave to progress and to the improvement of the goblin race—the villagers' lives were worthless in this path. His human members were surprised, and they soon left. Grimtusk could not contain his love for the [System]. He had always enjoyed its gifts, so why be a hypocrite? He would fully accept his purpose now. The [System] that brought him here would become his enabler, and he would become the figure standing above the people to lead them and to make them see faith realized. Shifting to Matthew, when he heard about this event, he was troubled. But he had ignored many quests, many events, and many pleas for help during his time here in this world. But he had to do something this time, now that he was a friend of goblins. And these 15 goblins insisted that they wanted to help stop him. He went toward Grimtusk. But he was lost. He had no resources. Grimtusk was far away. The village he razed was far away. The village had wanted to stay away in order to have their peace, but it backfired on them severely. Matthew grabbed his forehead. "I can do this... Brain, let's do this... Come on..." He needed friends, and he had them. A coalition emerged in response to the threat of Grimtusk, but many people were crying out and eventually silenced: "Why didn't you come sooner! Why did no one come help us! Why are we here dying!" Villagers were often the first to fall. They were the fodder when enemies invaded. Matthew knew that, and that was why (だから) he had to do something about it. He had to crush the Hittites all over again, and Grimtusk and his fellows were the Hittites today. The coalition battled the elements, as they pressed forward, energized by intellect, preparation, willpower, and the influence of Matthew. If Grimtusk could convince a goblin who had never killed a human to do so, then Matthew even more so. Matthew assessed his environment. They had to continue marching, but they had to be careful. Goblins could be anywhere, and they didn't want to waste their time in suspension due to a lack of resources. Now because the terrain was challenging to navigate through, they had to set up a camp at each point of the journey. If they mobilized at the location of Grimtusk, they would be tired and easy to defeat. So their plan was to choke Grimtusk out by spreading around and focusing on strategic locations on the humans' side of the territory while swooping and controlling local populations as well that might be hiding in these rainforests within the territory. Then, they could hopefully "shoot" at Grimtusk by extending long tendrils of attack from one of these camps once they were sufficiently close. Of course, these long tendrils meant risk. However, that would only be viable once they established a strong presence in this region. Secretly assassinating Grimtusk with humans was impossible, since Grimtusk and his team, being goblins, would easily detect a human enemy. Furthermore, using friendly goblins was not plausible because the humans didn't have powerful goblins on hand. In the end, this was their best bet to kill Grimtusk, as they didn't have flying vehicles. They didn't have a river to traverse in order to get to Grimtusk, but they would be passing by the edge of a lake. The village was also under a different city, so Matthew's presence here would be entering the borders of different territory. Dungeons would also be significant barriers, as monsters were continuously spawning from them and exiting, making their way onto the surface and into the forest. But the good thing was that the animals of the ecosystem were protected magically by the rainforest. As long as the humans preserved the forest, the animals would be kept safe from eradication. In the end, killing Grimtusk would take a long time. Matthew had to be patient. He focused on connecting with people, using the camps as a platform to influence them into conversations. Naturally, due to the scale of its ambition and its novel and wide reach over a huge portion of the region, the coalition began accepting new adventurers, and eventually, it transitioned away from a coalition to that of a new identity—it made up a new hotspot, even if its original purpose was to attack Grimtusk. In other words, the shared purpose of attacking Grimtusk convinced adventurers to join, but the area ended up functioning as a new base of operations for adventurers similar to the controlled dungeon steps Matthew saw before. He met numerous people, but he wasn't at all focused on them. Nevertheless, they each carried pasts of their own. Matthew waited until three familiar adventurers took the scene: Lumi, Thorne, and Elara. Thorne, wearing his characteristic hood and robe and wielding his lightning staff, bearded, asked if there were drinks and food around here as of the moment. Matthew said they were still in preparation, and it would take some time before the camps started having more established stalls and amenities. Lumi didn't bother doing anything, just sitting down and reading a book. It was unusual and hinted at a wealthier background. Elara was busy watching adventurers spar, hoping to interact with them and spar with them herself; though, she was a little shy and trying to be polite since it was Matthew's place. Usually, she would be a lot more daring. Matthew sat down in front of Lumi at the same table, but before he could say anything, Lumi showed him one of her artifacts to distract him for the time because she wanted to finish what she was reading. Thorne didn't want to sit down, so he walked around aimlessly, observing around. He just spoke a little to the people at the stall, asking around awkwardly. Since he felt lost, he decided to lie down on the wagon he had brought here to rest. The night was long, and Matthew glanced at Lumi reading from time to time, having been distant from Lumi, Thorne, and Elara for a while. Lumi saw his stares from her peripheral vision, and soon, she entertained him: "What is it?" Matthew smiled politely before pressing his lips seriously, saying, "You know, it's crazy, right?" "What's crazy?" "It's just crazy how much we've... all of us...we've been doing so much—We've done a lot." Lumi kept her eyes on her book, but she glanced curiously at him every few seconds, signalling him to continue. Matthew laughed to himself before saying, "Do you remember when Mr. Lobatu fell while he was getting his artifact. I was laughing so hard after he told us that it was an accident, but he really wasn't... It was as if he wasn't even having an accident." "Yeah," Lumi said. "I don't know what you're talking about." "Oh, okay." She switched topic. "Did you get the levels put into your current weapons and armor for repair like we talked about?" Thorne came by to hand them some food he bought before he left because he was too tired to converse. "Uh, no... I actually lost my levels. I'm pretty sure you know that, right." "Yeah. But I was thinking before that happened, right?" "Yeah. I forgot. Sorry." She put down the book. "So, seriously, though, how are you doing now? I've been seeing people say you did the coalition, And quests and that. I... was surprised that you did that. But are you... You've changed." "Huh?" Matthew felt offended for some reason, taking a bite out of the apple pie Thorne had brought. "What do you mean?" Lumi furrowed her brows at his offended reaction. "I'm just saying..." She sounded tense for a moment before she shifted to a consoling tone. "You're... everybody changes, and that's normal of course. I'm just... It's... something." She took a sip out of a coffee cup before he jumped when a cat brushed against her calves. After looking under the table from the side, Matthew returned to his posture and nodded. "Yeah, you're right. I did go through stuff I guess." Lumi pressed her lips together, shooing the cat with a stick she found on the floor. "I've been wondering if you still want to do normal stuff. You've been placed here, and I'm not saying you're not doing well. I'm saying that wouldn't you like to relax and have... you know... a normal time? You're being forced—you know—to do this. It's not fair to you, I feel. I feel that you deserve to be given a break? You've been here only for 6 months?" Matthew meowed at the kitty and invited him to sit at the bench. "Yeah. I do need a break, but I also don't know what else to do. If I lie down, I won't be able to feel anything but discomfort." Lumi sunk her shoulders, slouching and leaning her arms and elbows against the table, lowering her head, her two-handed grip on the book relaxing. The book leaned toward Matthew diagonally enough for him to see the fancy text. "But do you want to... go with us?" she said. "We're going to Power. We're planning to take on a couple quests with trolls, and it's going to take a months, probably a year and a half or two. If you want to come, you can come with us." Matthew raised his leg and placed it over his other leg, leaning to the right due to the uneven table. Part of the table was situated on a pile of gravel. He moved the table a bit institively before he glanced at Lumi, who he was surprised to see not caring the slightest about him shaking the table. "Really...?" Lumi's relaxed, lazy demeanor with the side of her face resting against her right fist; her arms making two lying V shapes, her elbows pointing outward to the sides. "Yeah!" Matthew took a deep breath as he rubbed his mouth. "I... want to come, I guess, but I'm also here. I don't know. I should really do something different, but I don't know. I just think this is fine for now. It's not the best, of course. It's not easy. I think it's the only thing that I have to think about. If I think about anything else, I'll just go crazy." Lumi yawned with her mouth wide open without covering it. "Well, uh, if you want to come, just tell me. I'll stay... be staying here for the duration of... around 1 week. If you want to come, just tell me... okay?" "Sure." Mattew noticed a passing group of adventurers laughing with Elara in good humor. "Oh, by the way, can you still use your healing? Can you remove the itch on my neck?" She had been sweating for a while now with her hair down, so she kept cloth to rub her sweat. But her skin was sensitive to irritation. Her neck still itched from earlier when her hair was tied. She was too sweaty and in a hurry to get here to the camp to remove the many bags and her extra layers of clothes, accessories, armor, and items to untie it at the time. After they took a short pause during which Matthew healed her neck, he changed the topic: "But how are you doing?" Instead of returning to his seat, he sat next to Lumi. He also rubbed his arm because it was starting to get cold and windy. Lumi was surprised. Matthew rarely asked her about her. After making sure her book was aligned, she said: "Oh, um, recently, I've been finding several rabbit holds. I'm talking about kingdoms of rabbits. That's actually what we've been doing for the past month of so. We were tasked by the adventurer guild "Romolo," and I came here because you were here but also because we were allowed to visit here for a while. The actual location of these kingdoms of rabbits is two hours from now... or from here. They're not really hard to find, but they can be hard to infiltrate, you know." Matthew noticed a new group of adventurers entering a camp, speaking in hushed tones among each other. "Huh, really?" Lumi followed his eyes and twisted her body, seeing the group as well before returning to her posture. "Yeah, so when he engage in these excursions—it's not really that difficult, but it can be long—we go around this circle." Matthew frowned and nodded pensively. "Yeah." Lumi raised her arms to stretch her arms behind her. "It's magical, so it prevents us from entering. And Thorne—you know Thorne, right—so his magic is actually five-leveled." Matthew did a light stretch as well without thinking. "Okay." Lumi stood up to get her body going since she was getting sleepy. "You know what that means? It has five... layers... of electricity." Matthew heard the loud adventurer parties all around him. They were bringing various loot frm their travels during the afternoon. It was currently night, so it was a good time to start unpacking and returning to rest. "What? What's that?" Lumi observed the crowds gathering to see the loot. "First level is like when it has circles around first very quickly and then it enters into this, like, stationary stage where it's quiet and nothing moves." Matthew saw Elara approaching the table. "That's... I have no idea what that means." When Elara saw that they were talking, she turned around and returned to the crowd. Lumi said: "But as soon as something touches, it explodes. He has to stay in a dark place, and he has to be five meters, yeah five meters, away from direct sun." Matthew said, "W-what kind of direct sun?" "So if he's standing inside a cave, he has to be in the dark, but he also has to be 5 meters away from the nearest, like, outside. It takes a while to find a good location that's basically this." "So he's in a dark place five meters from sun, direct sun?" "Yeah, so the second level, third level, fourth level, fifth level is even more complex. But basically, we use, or we have Thorne do this first in order to make it easier for us because the rabbits have magical barriers." She had been repeatedly making a circular motion with her right index finger. She continued: "So it gets kind of... So you can imagine how much effort it takes to enter into this, like, land. It 's not a land because it has lots of networks and it moves around somewhat." "Okay." "It's internally complex... basically... yeah. The kingdom of rabbits is where we have to go into the middle to get the dungeon core. It's not actually a dungeon core, but it's like a dungeon core." "I have no idea what a dungeon core is. I mean I've heard about it. But I haven't seen it." "Okay, so anyway—when we finally get it. It's so big. It becomes big basically. And it turns the entire... place upside-down. And we have to retreat as well, but we aren't just reliant on Thorne of course." "So Thorne is not your leader." "Yeah of course. Elara actually is probably more than a leader than Thorne and me. She has to use her poison abilities to make sure we don't get choked. And that's why. We can't live"—she chuckled—actually without her poison. So yeah, basically." She snickered. "Then... of course, there's also me. "Right." "We use me. I use... my skill to help out with clearing the trees when we get to the middle. Then, the trees are so thick, and it gets difficult. And these dungeons are not dungeons. They're... Again, they're kingdoms. So imagine a forest with a castle, but it's not a big castle. And it's not a big forest. It's around the size of a person. But it's also very wide, and they have all these magic skills that create these circular things. It's like giant balls that ruin our casting. That's not the only thing of course. But it's a lot. Like really a lot. And it differs every time. That's what it makes it so difficult. You get me?" "Okay," Matthew said. "I don't know what you're saying, but okay. But I kind of get it. The forests are usually the problem when we have our operations. So you can imagine"—he chuckled—"how fast we have to be to make sure that we're not stuck and dead in our tracks because they're all around us right. So yeah, I understand that, you know, why you have to be careful. And—you know—you and your skills are required. I know why." "Yeah. That's what I'm saying." "But you know... I... I know Thorne and Elara. It's clear to see you guys work well together. I'm not surprised all of you—Thorne, you, and Elara—are doing well, you know. I believe that you guys... really... have the necessary skills, and honestly, if you were a part of the team—of course, it's fine if you were not—I think you would do well; three of you. And the intel you guys would provide would be astounding." Lumi rarely got a chance to have someone outside of Thorne and Elara listen to her, so she was glad that she had somebody to talk to. Most people expected something from her or assumed things about her, but Matthew didn't really care in a good way. The sky was bright with hopeful stars, and in this camp and after investing a lot into this new quest to defeat Grimtusk, Matthew had only little time to spare before this set off a series of events that would remove him entirely from normalcy. Meanwhile, his friends' company, spearheaded currently by Lumi, served as a way for him to forget briefly the pressures and expectations weighing upon him. He had prepared so long to reach this point that he could respond to threats like Grimtusk, and even if he had been someone else at one point, he would not stop now.Chapter 56 - The Awakening of Freedom
"Where are my brothers, Matthew?" said a goblin, the brother of the goblins that included Finesse, the late goblin with whom Matthew had signed a contract. "Am I your brothers' keeper?" Matthew said. "What have you done? Listen! My brothers' blood cries out to me from the ground." Matthew woke up from this dream, but he had also dreamed of other dreams. One of these dreams had been about the sun, moon, and eleven stars bowing down to him.Matthew disappeared. He died. His soul was now stuck in his position. And he was beginning to realize that. The more power he got, the more he lost agency. His humanity, personality, and unique characteristics were fading away to make way for a role that many others could fulfill. He wasn't exactly the best strategist, but it was his previous hunger for power and his ability to network with adventurers and his headstart that allowed him to reach this point. He was loyal, and that was what led others to put him on a pedestal. But now that he was here, his self had died. He was now someone in the background, filling a generic role, which effectively acted as a cage. His struggles remained under the surface, but each time he was asked to uphold the responsibilies asked of him, he pushed himself forward to fill in the gap like many fathers did, curbing the sense of self in the process and crushing what made him him. He had desires, and he still didn't care about any of this. Even if people were struggling, he was forcing himself still to fulfill this role. He was growing tired, and maybe Lumi was right. Maybe, he did need a break. But he pretended as if he never cared like a father who had resolved to keep everything he felt under the surface to carry the burden of providing for his family—all emotions and humanity disappeared. And when these feelings came out, they came out very, very badly in the form of anger, rage, and physical attacks. That was why he was worried, because he knew that it could happen any moment now—his breakdown—all that suppressed energy bursting forth. He was too human. He decided to leave the role and hand it over to someone else. He ran to the forest, where he met Lumi, Thorne, and Elara, his new companions for the next 6 months. He stood up and let on the seventh month, preparing himself mentally. Name: Matthew Cruz Level: 55 Current experience: 3 Species: Human Age: 26 Skills: [Phantom Shield] Spells: None / None Vitality: 16 Quests: Titles: [Goblin Slayer], [Skeleton Slayer], [Overlord's Gifted] Unused stat points: 0.64 Attack Damage🪓: 85 + (10 from [Strength Beacon]) Ability Power🔥: 27 Armor🛡️: 57 Magic Resistance🚫: 60 Health🗿: 2355 Mana💧: 350 Mana regeneration💧 (per 10 minutes): 7 Previously, he spent all his unused points of health, going from 1129 to 2355 health. He also noticed that he got one [Vitality] since the last time he checked. Returning to the present, he was 26 now, having had his birthday this month. According to the [System], it was currently May 1. And his birthday was on May 1. That contributed to his bold decision to leave too. He didn't want to be tied down or controlled by expectations. If he ever knew what was going to happen next, he had to disrupt it. He feared losing himself in a box. He needed to break free. He jumped, as if angel wings sprang forth from his bang, his impact on the ground thunderous, his legs elegant and his arms carefully alighting. He knew how powerful he truly was. He would not be hindered. Thorne let out lighting strikes, breaking hundreds of goblins to the ground. Matthew knew well that the people back home were looking for him. But he couldn't do it anywhere. He ghosted them. He was free. Lumi shot five rocks all at once, breaking a gate with her fourth one. The fifth one broke through enemy lines. Elara raised her wings and flew, shooting blasts of flame as she flew around in a circle to avoid the counterattacks at her. This was her superior justice. Matthew would not hesitate to kill a goblin. He had to be callous to survive around these parts, and where would the rage go? Back again to war. A cycle of sorrow and guilt and the oncoming rageful bursts that led him to elegant gestures of superiority where his sword slashed in a flourishing manner. He would tie down those goblins before he would allow himself to be tied down. He needed freedom more than anything, not to be tied down. He struck waves upon waves of goblins, forgetting the techniques of Zoey and crafting his own path, build, and tree. The goblins surrounded him, chipping down his health, but he was too tough. So he destroyed them all in a flurry. "Not again. Not anymore!" He struck them down without torturing them. He had moved past his trauma. He was now free indeed. Some time since the [System] gave him access to the [Forums], he had been browsing it and using it to understand the world like one used the Internet; however, it was very limited. Some of the people he stayed in contact with included those who had given him the witch orb that he currently had and that he had been consistently since he got it. He was headed to one of them as well, and he told Thorne, Lumi, and Elara about it, saying that he had magic that could show him the location of an old friend. The client with whom he had created a magical bond that updated his current location and [System] status to them had was this friend. They were pressing him to go to them since Matthew's death made it so that the magical bond was not actively working but also registered as not destroyed either. So it was impossible for them to create another magical bond through the [Forums]. This was why the client insisted for Matthew to come to them face-to-face because they were sure they had a way to break Matthew's magic bond restriction. Matthew was not very strong whatsoever. To be more accurate, he was overloaded with time and support from others, the city's [Strength Beacon], City of Power's soothing effect, the witch orb, Lumi's artifacts, Desmond's help, and so many more. That was what made him untouchable—networking. Far from a mastermind, Matthew Cruz was a walking paradox. He prolonged a pointless goblin war, despite recognizing its folly. He aligned himself with the supposedly uptight Michel, contradicting his past criticism. He escalated monstrous blitzkriegs even when victory seemed impossible. This stemmed from a brutal past. Tortured by goblins, Matthew fled to the human city. Here, he mastered the intricacies of power, navigating both political and personal landscapes. These skills propelled him to the pinnacle—close to the city's most powerful adventurers, with their might at his command. Matthew's guiding principle? There wasn't one. Shifting alliances, covert dungeon raids, sabotaging negotiations, and backing ruthless foreign adventurershe did it all. This ruthless pragmatism shattered countless lives, leaving a lasting scar on the region. Even today, Matthew wouldn't face repercussions. He was the ultimate player, adored by powerful figures across the board. But here was the lesson for his former allies: Matthew's disappearance highlighted the dangers of unchecked power concentrated in one man. His mental breakdowns were real, but there was some merit in thinking that he had adapted very efficiently all while orchestrating plans for his lucky break. Now, this Matthew was truely him, even if only an aspect, but the issue was that he didn't see it that way. So he never made it the point of his focus. He had many reasons to be doing things, and that was what made his actions justified, even if it was only for him. He said he was not running away, and many might share the same conclusion. But it depended on perspective really. The God that people looked up to was only a man. He shielded himself from the ruthlessness of his actions that when others saw him, they didn't see him as such. In conclusion, he was only a regular man, and any immediate and striking success would outpaced by the need to adapt to challenges far beyond his whole life up to that point. He was a baby in the face of difficulties that his simple mind could not comprehend. This combination of intelligent and dumb was evident in almost every man, except the ideal of godhood. Intelligent enough to slice precisely his opponents, but struggling with the consequences of going against his moral code. As for others... Callous enough to escape the guilt and shame typically arising from murder, but unempathetic enough that they couldn't understand the will of kindness and empathy and often found themselves at a loss as to what to do, only imitating, but never experiencing truly their complexities. As a result, they had a deficit in a fundamental aspect of a human being, walking askew with a gaping hole instead of a vast ocean of understanding and realization. But there was victory in being human, even with all its flaws, inconsistencies, hypocrisies, and contradictions, even with the defence mechanisms intended to mitigate emotional adverse effects and the concealing of what one felt inside in order to keep the harmony. Humanity was, at its core, unable to be defied. Change and unpredictability were human. He woke up in front of a large gate, and nothing ever stayed the same. He removed his armor and his weapons, laying them on the ground. He walked toward the light. There, he found himself accompanied by legions of soldiers. This was a place of battle, and he was near the King. This was not King Aethelred III who had used an orb to watch Matthew. This was another king, popularly referred to as the the King of Mercy. The King addressed Matthew's presence, who had established himself as an up-and-coming power-holder: "Mercy, my middle name, and my greatest honor. I command thee down to the ground. Your life is beauty itself. Tear away your disgusting clothes." "Ah, yes, yes," Matthew said. He then removed his purple and yellow [Shadow Assassin Outfit] and dropped them on the ground for the soldiers to pick up and toss away onto a wagon. This was all a part of the ceremony of entry, but more importantly, the King himself was the client with whom Matthew had worked with to get his witch orb. He knew now once he saw him. That was why Mark didn't feel afraid of leaving. He was leaving his team to another bigger and greater one, one that had long established connections with him. This was a favorable sight. Eventually, he was tasked with dismantling the various cracked walls filling up a tree-covered area. These walls had spawned from the underground dungeons; the dungeon cores breathing life and testing out their vision. They could see through these walls. That was his task—[Eliminate the Wall-eyes!]