Path of the Slayer B1 C2: Into the Last Good Fight I’ll Ever Know

Six years ago, when I still had a right hand, I was raising it eagerly to answer the question of a male bronze instructor. We were in a clean and sunny classroom setting, and the question was this: What’s the difference between Ranker folks and Ranker monsters?

Once chosen, I stood from my desk and spoke about what I’d diligently studied.

“Ranker folks, which include humans, dwarves, elves, and all sapient creatures who fall under the might of the God Emperor, will have at least four notable powers after reaching Rank 1.

“First, there is Vitality, which regenerates health, enhances physicality, empowers conditioning, and raises endurance for our bodies.

“Second, there is Aether, which is a mystical energy the God Emperor brought down from the heavens to serve his people, enabling us to use a fraction of his power beyond our mortal flesh and simple sciences.

“Third, there is Suppression, making it easier to push back against the hordes or freeze something unruly that’s naturally weaker or has been weakened.

“And fourth, a special power that’s unique to the individual Ranker. Sometimes, if you’re truly blessed, you can get two special powers – maybe even three – at Rank 1. And some of those special powers can have higher Qualities if you’re truly, truly talented, making the individual Ranker even stronger than the norm.”

There was fervor in my voice, tension in my body. I had to lick my lips and take a moment to compose myself, giving the slower students in class a chance to catch up to what I’d said. There weren’t any Rank 0 tin adventurers who had as high of an Epiphany as I did at age eighteen, so I held nothing against them.

I could probably hit Rank 1 by nineteen if I pushed harder, but I didn’t think that was necessary. I liked the idea of having a thorough education and training background, especially if I wanted to specialize as an artificing warrior, the rarest and most difficult adventuring style.

“You got any more to say?” asked the instructor. “You’re still standing, I see.”

Once I was sure that the other classmates caught up, some of whom looked at me with dirty expressions for waiting so long, I continued.

“Rank monsters, especially the lowliest ones, don’t have four powers when they achieve Rank 1. They can certainly Rank Up easier and faster than Ranker folks, but at the start, they have two powers. And it depends on what type of monster they are. A more physical monster type will have Vitality and Suppression. A more mystical monster type will have Aether and a special power, maybe even two, if they are truly mystical.

“That doesn’t mean they are weak. Monsters inherently have certain biological advantages that make them dangerous predators. If you put the average Rank 0 human with no combat training against a Rank 0 monster, which is still infantile at that point, the Rank 0 infant monster can kill the Rank 0 average human effectively. Once monsters reach Rank 1, they have a higher Quality version of the Vitality-Suppression combo or Aether-special version than most Ranker folks. The latter can be even more deadly if their special power is a surprise.”

The bronze instructor nodded, and I remained standing. He had a sharp gleam in his eye as he focused on me. “What makes the Suppression used by physical monster types different from Ranker folks, Arden?”

I smiled cheekily. The answer was simple, even if some of my classmates were further behind. Certainly, there were other bright ones in the classroom, but I couldn’t help but hog the spotlight.

“They can’t use targeted Suppression,” I answered. “It is known their Suppression is different from ours, so they can’t just freeze you up specifically. But the range of their Suppression is wider and more sensitive, almost like a soft perception field. The moment you fully enter their range, they’ll know it.”

“And that’s why none of you Rank 0s will fight Rank 1 monsters by yourselves,” the bronze instructor said, taking over fully, prompting me to sit back down. “Hell, I wouldn’t even trust five of you against one of them.”

“I can take on one stupid Rank 1 rat!” claimed one of my brashest peers.

The instructor’s Rank 1 Suppression filled the classroom. Sweat rolled down my back. I noticed the others getting fidgety and sweaty too. After a short time that felt longer to my perception, the bronze instructor pulled back his casual Suppression and scoffed.

“Even a Rank 1 monster rat can kill five Rank 0 tin adventurers. Same can happen to copper adventurers if they’re still Rank 0 and not careful. That’s just how it goes. A Rank 1 monster that’s a physical type has significantly higher vigor and a more crushing Suppression even if it’s non-targeted. They’ll wipe the floor with you weaklings.”

The bronze instructor shook his head. “But don’t worry. One day, you’ll make it to Rank 1, and maybe we’ll trust you to go solo on some damn rats or goblins! But hell, even those quests can require a full four-man party.”

“I bet Arden’s gonna try to do it while he’s still a tin,” a female classmate said, giggling and tossing flirty looks in my direction.

“I’m ambitious, but not that ambitious,” I said jokingly.

“Come on, kid! With your talent, I’m thinking you’ll solo a Rank 2 when you’re a copper!” the bronze instructor laughed boisterously, joining in on the light ribbing.

I laughed along with the others, all tensions seeping away during that time. It was a good and happy time to be a new and aspiring adventurer, one with ambitions that were bigger than most.

Back when I was certain I would be the best Ranked adventurer , and others thought the same.

***

Six years after those early classroom lessons, I was missing my right hand and most of my forearm. An expensive artificial half arm replaced it.

There was water reaching up to my shins, soaking into my boots and socks. Water droplets fell from the moist and slick surfaces of the storm drainage pipes all around me. The place smelled, and the overhead sconce lights were too dim for reliable vision, making it hard for my Rank 0 eyes to see through the murky darkness.

The way forward was death. The way backward was filled with twists and turns I’d marked with chalk and paste. I could easily miss the markings if I moved in a hazy hurry during the action and killing. One wrong turn could be the death of me.

I flicked my finger against my helmet. I refastened my left hand on the handle of my short sword, its weight light but solemn in my grasp. My attention drew to my shield, checking it once again to ensure it was tightly secured on my artificial half arm. One dagger was sheathed on my hip. Another was sheathed in my left boot. The pack was tight on my back.

The chittering and gibbering bounced along the surfaces of the storm drain, echoing from further outside of the goblins’ Suppression range. I needed to creep closer, all the way up to the edge.

But the time for that was later. I retraced my steps, found a ladder leading to a manhole above, and I found a large grate sealing off a different pipe nearby. I made some preparations, drank from my waterskin, and then crept back toward the talkative goblins.

One step.

Two steps.

Four Steps.

Onward, I crept, my left hand extended while still gripping my sword.

Every breath was slow and quiet, even if it was straining me to breathe that way. My heart drummed loudly in my ears. The gibbering and chittering sounded from almost in front of me and around me. The voices of monsters resonated all over, an attempt to drive me mad.

Step.

Step.

Step.

Pressure.

The all familiar aura of Suppression bushed down the few fingers I extended from my sword hand. The weight, even when unfocused, was considerable.

The chittering and gibbering quieted suddenly.

A dread filled the humid air, and everything became deathly still.

The plopping of water droplets sounded like little bombs.

I retreated, and just when I did, I felt the Suppression nudged against my extended sword hand again. As quietly and quickly as I could, I shuffled through the water backwards, my body soaked with sweat from the tension, my sword hand still extended against the edges of the invisible pressure that kept brushing over it. It followed my hand, as if curious to what it could be or what was attached to it.

By the grace of the System, I rounded the corner before that owned the Suppression rounded the other corner further ahead. The view of me remained blocked behind twists and turns, and the owner of the Suppression followed at the space pace I set as I baited it with just one hand.

Years of experience and practice helped me predict the breaking point, and I was the one to commit a little more before the monster. I plunged my sword hand up elbow deep into the monster’s Suppression. The field of pressure came to a halt. Then I yanked back and moved even quicker as excited gibbers and squeaks resonated a few twists behind me. 

I turned another corner, which was marked with chalk and paste. I raised my knees with my next series of steps and came to a halt twenty feet from the last turn. The moment I turned and braced myself, the Suppression rolled over me. Every breath, every thought, every twitch of movement felt heavier for me, much heavier than being under a non-targeted Suppression from a Rank 1 human.

Then the moment of truth arrived, the goblin turning the corner, and it appeared under one of the few bright sconces shining down from above. It was a short creature, almost child-sized, but with long and gangly limbs, a thick torso, and a big head. Its teeth were long and needle-like, extending far past its thin lips, criss-crossing outside of its mouth.

When it opened its mouth, its jaw extended down and covered its entire neck. Bulbous yellow eyes glowed in the near-dim setting of the storm drain, the eyes settling on me as I stood confidently from across the creature.

I said nothing, my artificial hand flicking a switch on the metal lantern. The fuel sparked, and an even brighter light beamed from my side just when the goblin broke forth in an excited sprint.

The creature screeched from the sudden lights, its racing feet snagging on the rope I fastened between a bar on the grate and the lowest ladder rung. The rope snapped, but the job was done, tripping the creature into a sloppy scramble on all fours, water splashing up in great heaps.

But none of the droplets could blind me to what was coming next.

My left arm rose and dropped sharply, with all of my weight, my blade chopping onto the top of the goblin’s head. The one-arm strike cleaved partially into the top of the skull, but not quite deep enough for a full kill.

The creature slammed down from the impact to its think pan, its limbs loosening, failing. Blood shot up in thin fountainous sprays. Even then, the monster’s Vitality helped it regain some resemblance of survival instincts, its hands slapping down, pushing it up.

My left boot came down on its shoulder. The monster resisted my weight with its ridiculous Vitality. Fine by me. I just wanted my sword back.

I wretched it free from its hard head, stepped over with my right boot on the other side of the goblin, and had its back while I swept up and down.

The bone of a Rank 1 physical monster was hard.

The flesh was more pliable, especially between the vertebrae

Off came its head, with one boot on its back during the execution.

[You’ve overcome a Rank 1 goblin!]

The System Notification was welcomed, but it was also a distraction.

So was the compulsion, which I promptly ignored as a fast-moving wave of Suppression rolled over me just when I finished the first goblin. I heard the creature before I could see it. The sound of splashing and the wrestling of wet flesh flying gave me an insight that should’ve been impossible to follow up on.

Still, I stepped, turned, and carved my blade with all of my strength, dexterity, and speed in the place I was just in. The goblin that nearly took my back ran face first into my sword, and the edge alignment was on point, cleaving halfway into its head.

It nearly yanked my sword out of my hand and threw me off balance.

I kept my grip, and I stumbled toward the dying goblin with half of its head nearly chopped off. Our impromptu tugging match slowed it down and pulled me along until I let go of my sword as it tumbled onto the watery floor.

I followed up quickly with a quick draw of my dagger and a plunge, using all of my weight on its exposed brain. I stabbed again and again, the flurry of strikes throwing up chunks of gore and blood, until I got a mental ding and notification.

[You’ve overcome a Rank 1 goblin!]

The compulsion pulsed inside of me again.

I ignored it in favor of wiping the dagger off my leggings and sheathing it. I grabbed my sword as another wave of Suppression collided with my back in the direction the goblins were coming from. This one moved even faster, and I didn’t have time for anything fancy.

The third goblin ran into my shield the split second I propped myself behind it, claws scrabbling, teeth gnashing on wood and iron. Even with me braced behind it, the impact was so heavy my shoulder was hurting, and I was forced backward.

Adapting, I let the goblin bowl me over, taking advantage of its momentum. I landed on my pack and swung my legs up hard, flipping us until I landed on top.

My shield arm went heavy on the monster’s front and scrabbling claws. I could feel its strength chipping and tearing at my shield, nearly knocking me off with its frenzied attempts to get me off. My breath was scant and water was drizzling through the gaps of my helmet, partially blinding me.

I didn’t need to see.

I felt the goblin’s every motion beneath my shield, raised up my short sword, and thrust down where the head should be. I didn’t get the satisfied thrust through flesh and gristle. It felt like I struck off the side of its face, a glancing blow. I made the move for another thrust, but the damn thing wised up.

I felt it before it happened, and I was still barely fast enough to get my feet under me as the goblin propped its feet against my shield and kicked me off. All of that supernatural Strength sent me zooming back, my heels skimming over the water until I landed in a backward stumble, struggling to right my balance quickly.

By that point, the goblin was already lunging at me again.

With a grim smile, and both hands of flesh and metal on my sword handle, I ducked down and thrust forward. My rear leg straightened behind me, aligning with the rising blade, as the goblin slammed chest first on the point, blood bursting from the front and the back in a gory spray that wet my helmet, mixing with the water. 

The impact rattled my human left arm. The artificial right arm flashed a subtle pulse of blue Aether, the energy leaving a light zap down my nub and the rest of my right.

Keeping my wits about me, I twisted around and swung the goblin off the blade while it was partially stunned by the critical damage. Even then, it tried to get at me, its reaching claws scratching along my helmet, leaving marks I could see on the edges of my visor.

The goblin landed with a wet thump. I followed to finish it when I felt another wave of Suppressing rolling over my back.

Overlapping fields of Suppression didn’t double the pressure. They only increased the pressure a little if they came from the same Rank and Quality of Suppression, or the highest would dominate. But every bit of added pressure from multiple Suppressions weighed on me, and I had to make a snap judgment call as I heard something flying at my backside again.

I dropped to a knee as I turned, curling down behind my shield with it facing the way of the incoming threat. A split-second later – impact – and it forced me to roll with the tackle, my helmeted head dunking into the water, my shield flipping in splintered pieces along with the goblin that got flipped over me. Somehow, I landed back on my feet, but I struggled to stand from the dizziness caused by the hard impact and roll.

I lost my advantage.

Instincts flared, heart thumping, breath short, I made a snap decision. I forced myself to draw a deeper breath, my lungs forced open wide, and roared with all of my might. The battle cry shocked the goblins, especially the nearest ones, their sharpened hearing used against them.

I moved with a big and obvious sword swing. The healthy one scrambled backward, leaving the one with the slowly healing chest wound. I turned the swing into a downward thrust, slamming onto the back of the downed goblin with all of my weight, my sword piercing its neck. Still not a kill shot, until I rolled to the side and wrenched my blade around and up, shredding the neck and leaving a string of flesh between the head and torso.

That did the job.

[You’ve overcome a Rank 1 goblin!]

With all of my might, I tried to get up and face the fourth goblin ASAP. A fifth wave of Suppression rolled over my back, surprising me, just as my foot slipped on something slimy.

In the time it took to readjust my footing, I barely got the last half of my shield up when the fourth goblin slammed into me.

The rest of the shield broke fully, my artificial arm juddering while absorbing a lot of the impact with a bright flash of Aether. Reaching claws dug through my leather pauldrons and pricked the flesh of my shoulders and collar underneath.

I hissed in anger and pain before I ended up rolling once again, my head dunking in and out of the water. I tried to get back on my feet, but the goblin got to its feet faster and had a good hold of my shoulder armor.

It yanked me back, and I landed on my pack, doing all I could to twist around and swing my short sword. The goblin skipped over it like it was a game, and because of my miss, I left myself open to the fifth goblin.

I felt its claws latched onto my backpack from under me, with its gnashing teeth and big yellow eyes close to my face. Instead of biting me, it laughed as it yanked backward, working with the fourth goblin. 

Everything became a dizzying, waterlogged experience as I got taken for a ride. Breathless and disorientated, my body thrashed left and right with every twist and turn, my focus going to my sword to keep from cutting myself as the goblins worked me like a rag doll.

Finally, when I had enough, I sacrificed my short sword and let it fall away from me. I used my hands to unclasp the emergency straps that bound the pack to my back. It was a nifty design called a quick-release passed down to us by up high, apparently.

With the pack off, my roughed-up ride slowed, as one goblin kept racing ahead with its stolen prize, the other holding onto my pauldron. With nothing in the way of my artificial hand, I punched the Rank 1 metal into the goblin’s elbow once, twice, three times until it cracked. The creature screeched, its grip loosening, leaving me to tumble to a stop. 

By all means, I should take at least half a minute to recompose myself. Knowing that would be the death of me, I shoved downward and stood my ass up. I stifled my breathing, doing my best to play off my weakness.

I also had one dagger in my left hand as I took in my new surroundings and latest challengers.

I was facing certain death even if I had all of my strength and an extra wind.

The goblins had taken me to a wide and circular chamber with a dozen large pipes leading in different directions. The water reached up to my knees, and there was no knowing where I should go to find the nearest way out. All the markings with water-resistant paste were meaningless now.

The place was lightless, with no working sconces.

The only light I had was the lantern on my hip, which meant there was a thick slice of the chamber that remained shrouded in darkness wherever I turned.

On the side that was illuminated, over twenty goblins occupied the chamber with me. The one who’d taken my backpack was bold enough to wave it in front of me with only ten feet of space, making it obvious that my doomed situation was worth mocking.

I’d only killed three, and it felt like I’d fought for ages. And the worst part was that I’d killed goblins before, but only one at a time, with them fairly spread out. The usual goblin elimination quest would amount to removing five or six at most.

This wasn’t a bronze quest.

This was a silver quest.

They’d scouted it incorrectly.

“Give me a god damn break,” I said, chuckling darkly.

I imagined Britta’s dream version of me would be the slayer of dragons and demons. Better than what I was down here among the discarded and the unwanted.

Unless, of course, this was where I would get my Epiphany at last, when I was at my lowest.

The compulsion struck stronger than ever before.

I checked.

[Epiphany: 99%.]

Nevermind, still a dud.

The goblins kept having their fun, circling me, laughing, hopping around to keep me fidgety and on edge. The more they could make me fear for my life, the more they would derive their sick pleasure of feasting on me, as most monsters did.

Some monsters did worse than feasting. They gained some fulfillment from outright torture, hence why they were called monsters mostly, and not just magical beasts.

And if their antics weren’t really enough to break me, the many layers of Suppression were certainly sapping the dregs of willpower I had. Every breath. Every move. Ever thought. It all was a struggle. Even with them all being Rank 1s, there was enough Suppression to pummel him softly while blocking off most escape routes.

Except for one.

I noticed the goblins avoiding a particular storm drain that had a strange, red glow deep in its dark recesses. I also noticed the goblins amassing themselves the most around a storm drain with a forest green glow.

Portals.

One of them appearing was rare. Monsters could fall through gaps between Realms and just pop up randomly, but having a Portal they could access changed everything. They could go back and forth to bring reinforcements with a Portal from their Realm.

Ridding the goblins required more than just slaughtering them now. Someone would have to adventure into the Portal and kill the Portal Boss on the other side.

The goblins knew that.

But two of them in the same area?

I’d never heard of something like that. And the goblins didn’t seem to favor the strange circumstance either.

I looked hard toward the pipe with the green light. The goblins gathered more predictably in that direction, almost daring me to get through them all to reach their home Realm. I played into that dare, taking two hard steps toward it.

The goblins acted with a frenzied protectiveness. They scrambled to crowd around the pipe with the green light, becoming a barrier of green flesh, sharp claws, and needle-like teeth. I saw all I needed out of their reaction before turning around and running away in the other direction.

I mustered everything I had and more. I pulled up all the speed, all the strength, all that I could pump into my sprinting legs, giving more than I got. I felt the ligaments and tendons in my legs strain, all on the verge of ripping.

But I pushed and pushed for the red light, my only salvation.

Behind me, goblins skittered and screeched. My back went hot with phantom predictions of getting skewered. But I ran and ran and ran, nearly tripping over myself from how hard I ran down the pipe with the red light, my mind wondering when something was going to collide with my back and lead me to getting torn in half by goblins. I kept running, until it finally happened, the all familiar sound of a monster lunging at my back.

I let myself trip. Claws that could leave deep gouges on steel raked across my back and hooked under my helmet. The rest of the goblin’s body collided with me, sending me flying further forward.

We hit the wall of a T-section, and with the little energy I could muster beyond fleeing, I turned and smashed my artificial hand into the goblin’s face while it was sitting skewed behind me. With my other hand, my dagger punctured its chest.

Then I twisted further to face it, my metal hand punching again and again. I fractured the goblin’s teeth, dribbling the back of its head against the wall, my fury nearly overwhelming me before I forced myself off once I was sure I could slip its grip.

As more goblins drew closer, I stumbled to my feet and shambled toward the other Portal.

A shimmering oval doorway that went against anything that was good and sacred bathed me in hellish red light. Letting out a hoarse huff that should’ve been a self-directed laugh at my souring circumstances, I made to move into the Portal in what others would describe as leaving the pan to enter the fire.

My green-skinned friends didn’t agree to let me choose my death.

Something snagged my ankle. I looked back and found the goblin I stabbed and punched in the face just earlier. The damn thing smiled a bloody smile up at me.

Fair enough.

By then, the others arrived, crashing into me, claws sinking into my leather breastplate and carving off metal shavings from my helmet. Teeth gnashed onto my artificial half arm I held up to protect my neck. The vambrace on my flesh arm barely held up as teeth sunk through the leather and into the meat. The force of their gang-tackle threw me backward, my ankle ripping raw out of the grip of the downed goblin that kept smiling its bloody smile that I somehow knew was on its stupid face.

My vision turned black.

Then everything became red.

[You’ve entered the Raining Ruin Hell Realm: Rank 2.]