POTLS - Chapter 5: No Ending

A strange state came over Paul. He clearly felt the painful feedback from his wounds—which hadn't improved at all—yet he could endure them as if the places where blood gushed like springs were mere surface scratches. Not enough to knock him unconscious.

Paul roared, enduring his body's violent protest, and grabbed the Crimson Court Noble's forearm. The monster's smug smile instantly transformed into shock. It had expected the human to collapse, allowing it to toy with its prey before draining it into a dried husk. Yet somehow, this bastard was moving.

Gripping his sword tightly, Paul unleashed both [Silver Strike] and [Crescent Moon Slash] simultaneously with an upward swing. The blade blazed with blinding light. The 100% damage boost from [Last Stand] fed into his attack. [Crescent Moon Slash] alone had increased from 150% to 300%.

His strike became deadlier than ever before.

The silver-white arc traveled through the Crimson Court Noble's disbelieving eyes. Unable to comprehend, it slowly looked down. From its left chest to abdomen appeared a clean cut. Its eyes blinked once. The lower half of its body made a horrifying gurgling sound.

From the wound, the monster's lower body slid downward under gravity's pull. However, blood tendrils like tentacles shot out from both halves, desperately trying to reconnect. They served to heal, attempting to restore their master hovering on death's edge. This explained why no blood spurted despite Paul's powerful strike.

[Last Stand] had thirteen seconds remaining.

The monster's claws, still embedded in Paul's left side, contracted as its pitch-black eyes locked onto him with unquenchable hatred.

Breath seemed stolen from Paul's basic functions. Blood bubbled from his nose and mouth from the punctured lung. He clenched his jaw, the salty, acrid red liquid flowing between his teeth. His left hand still gripped his enemy, his right hand swinging upward once more.

The slash intercepted an attack from the monster's right hand while simultaneously severing its left arm.

[Last Stand] had nine seconds remaining.

Paul didn't immediately attack the monster that had collapsed to the ground. Its lower body resembled torn melted cheese, clinging weakly. Given enough time, the body would fully reconnect. The Crimson Court Noble, finally believing it was gravely wounded, howled in agony and rage.

Without translation, Paul knew it was using every foul word to curse him, threatening revenge and torture upon its return.

But he wouldn't allow its return, as nine seconds wasn't enough for recovery.

At the eighth second, he dispatched a group of Nosferatu Hunters with [Crescent Moon Slash].

Then, at the sixth second, he endured the pain of pulling the embedded claw from his side.

In the final five seconds, he used [Healing Hand] on his wound to take advantage of the enhanced recovery from [Last Stand]. That time was too short for complete healing. Most importantly, it was enough to prepare him for the after-effect of [Last Stand].

The moment the skill ended, all suppression within his body vanished, everything running wild like caged beasts suddenly freed. Pain that had seemed manageable suddenly multiplied tenfold.

He curled into a ball on the ground, coughing thick clots of blood. His body trembled violently, threatening to collapse at any moment. Fortunately, [Healing Hand] and [Last Stand] had helped repair the lung puncture and converted broken bones to mere cracks from the Crimson Court Noble's assault.

[Last Stand] was poorly ranked among skills precisely because of this disadvantage. True, its buff was incredibly powerful, potentially changing a battle's outcome in an instant. But it came with strict activation conditions and a long cooldown. Each use required a three-hour interval between activations. A skill effective for only minutes, even at high levels, became difficult to choose.

The next critical point was the aftermath of [Last Stand]. Since it could only activate when near death, everyone carried wounds—severe ones at that. When returning to normal, the explosive wave of pain spreading throughout the body was enough to knock anyone unconscious.

Paul had completely lost his mind during his first experience. This time, having tasted it before, he remained just a thread away from darkness.

The madness of pain gradually yielded to adrenaline. Though unable to stand steady, he managed to rise.

This wasn't over yet.

The next milestone was the Crimson Shard. Unlike blue, green, purple, or red shards, Crimson guaranteed that Survivors below level 30 would automatically level up regardless of missing experience. That's why Paul wanted to reach level 23 first. Now there would be no waste when reaching level 24.

Moreover, Crimson Shard offered a one-time evolution. With [Silver Strike] at level 5 and passive [Blade Mastery], he already qualified to create a new skill: [Holy Strike]. His attacks would leave small light spots when Holy Mark was applied, creating explosions when monsters touched them. This was crucial for the seventh day, when most encounters involved large monster waves.

If [Holy Strike] could be raised to its maximum level 10, it would transform into [Daybreak Executioner]. Holy Mark would have a 100% application rate. Paul would become a mobile bomb, bringing terror to vampiric monsters.

But... Paul worried silently as he approached.

Though severely wounded and activating its defensive and healing mechanisms, the Crimson Court Noble had insufficient time for significant recovery. It still lay there, right hand groping aimlessly. A partially functional right wing flapped uselessly on the ground. Its commands to the Nosferatu Hunters were quickly thwarted as they fell.

Its death approached.

The monster stiffened as its grim reaper arrived. Those emotionless eyes demanded it show no weakness before its inevitable end. But when the silver gleam of the sword tip flashed, a desperate plea for life appeared in its eyes, its mouth suddenly opening to cry out, shoulders hunching as if to avoid the blow. Everything happened too slowly.

Thunk!

The sword pierced through the Crimson Court Noble's head.

Paul yanked his sword free, wearily using it to support himself. His stamina was once again approaching dangerous levels.

He dispatched the remaining Nosferatu Hunters. Without their leader, they attacked haphazardly, exposing countless exploitable weaknesses. Paul eliminated them easily, unlike the struggle when the Crimson Court Noble lived.

He returned to the leader monster, standing over it. Gradually, his eyes revealed despair, his throat tightening from the harsh reality.

Emerging from the monster's chest were three experience shards. Their color was difficult to distinguish under the deep red moonlight.

But looking carefully through the surface layer, they lacked the necessary reflection of Crimson Shards.

All Paul's suffering was rewarded with three Red Experience Shards. The total gain was 150 experience.

He laughed bitterly at fate's cruel irony. The drop rate for Crimson Shards was 50/50. His Luck stat wasn't high, and no algorithm could accurately assess its impact. But certainly, it could only increase the probability, not decrease it. According to reports, preliminary summaries suggested Crimson Shards had a 66.66% chance of appearing.

And he had unluckily hit the remaining 33.33%.

No Crimson Shard, no level up, no evolution.

The sixth night's difficulty was far from over, and hope was sliding toward negative infinity.

Looking at the system panel showing he had two lives left—two portal entries—Paul took a deep breath and slowly returned to the campsite.

The charred rabbit meat suddenly became a delicacy in his eyes. He scraped off the outer layer and began devouring it ravenously. His stamina gradually recovered, though his spirit remained heavy.

The sixth night was a sleepless night. He carried his burden to keep his mind from shutting down. David, Lina, and Kate once again accompanied him.

An hour passed, and Paul stood up. His stamina couldn't fully recover in this state. But it was enough.

He dragged his sword forward.

From the sky, a flock of five Blood Courtiers shrouded in red mist dove down.

After the Noble layer came the Elite layer.

Paul continued fighting.

Until his final breath.