HC: Handyman | Ch. 230 - 4v5

Wave 49 comes. Beware.

The Tramontane howled. The air thickened, every breath turning sluggish, every sound muted, as if the canyon itself held its breath.

Thanks to his new passive, [Frosthide Conditioning], the freezing gusts barely registered—more breeze than blizzard. Jack tilted his head. Was this how the ants had felt when they marched against the Tramontane?

“Hope Tramontane actually pulls its weight this time. Last wave, it might as well have been air conditioning,” he said, snorting.

Horace, hammer propped on one shoulder, gave a short laugh. “Relax. Its damage scales every wave, remember? Besides, they can’t keep sending bosses with high cold resistance. This time, it’ll bite. It has to.”

Jack hoped he was right.

They were further back this time. The first ditch, now filled with rubble from the rolling-stone defense against the ants, had shifted the staging area—giving them more room, more time to see what was coming. But even so, when they heard the roars, every thought fled.

One—deep and thunderous, like stone grinding beneath a mountain.

Another—sharp and guttural, slicing through the wind like a predator’s snarl.

A third—an unholy screech that clawed at the nerves.

And finally—a chorus of clicks and hisses, crawling over the skin like unseen insects.

Jack’s stomach clenched. He knew those sounds.

Snow and dust burst from the crevices between the canyon wall and the dandelion trunk. Two shapes surged out—one a living avalanche, black horn down, hunched for the charge; the other sleek and low, sinew wrapped in a sheen of metallic blue. Both thundered toward the gate.

Following them, from beneath the tree’s shadowed roots, a vast black form scuttled into view. Its limbs twitched with insectile precision. Above it, something detached from the canopy—membranes flaring as it glided down and landed in a blur of claws and leathered wings.

Jack’s voice caught. “It can’t be…”

“Are you serious right now?” Marie whispered.

“Four bosses?!” Horace roared. “At the same time?!”

There was no mistake. The first four bosses of the Breach—Black-Horned Shagrat, Cobalt Romie, Roach Mother, and Flying Marmoset—together.

Jack squinted. The Romie’s blue hide looked darker now—navy instead of cobalt. And the Roach Mother… she was larger. More armored. Was it because Rob had joined them? Had they both leveled up?

No one moved. Minds blanked. No orders came. It wasn’t just the shock—it was disbelief. This wasn’t something they’d planned for.

The outer four turrets swung into motion. Gears clanked. Arrows and iron javelins screamed through the air.

The two in the lead flinched. When the javelins struck, they staggered. The Tramontane howled again—frost spidering across fur, chitin, and hide.

Jack exhaled slowly. For a moment, panic had gripped him. But watching the defenses kick in—watching the towers and traps do their work—he found his breath again.

The bosses had been terrifying before—especially the Romie, who’d once reached the gate—but that was then. They weren’t the same team anymore.

Now they had forty NPC allies. The Tramontane. The Six Towers. New gear. Better skills.

Another javelin slammed into the Romie’s flank, knocking it back a step.

Jack allowed himself a flicker of confidence.

This shouldn’t be so hard. We’ve got this.

“Jack! Heads up!”

Jack grabbed the kaleidoscope and pointed it at each of the incoming bosses.

You’ve learned more about Roach Mothers.

Buff gained: [Roach Mother Insight] — 24 hours.

Doubles critical hit chance against insect-type beasts.

You’ve learned more about Cobalt Ischychromys.

Buff gained: [Gear Salvaging] — 24 hours.

Durability loss from gear-grinding effects is reduced.

You’ve learned more about Black-Horned Shagrats.

Buff gained: [Rodent Vitality] — 24 hours.

Shagrat regeneration is slightly slower.

You’ve learned more about Flying Marmosets.

Buff gained: [Flying Marmoset Insight] — 24 hours.

Crowd control effects against marmosets are slightly more effective.

Another upgrade. Another edge. This fight was already looking far easier than their first encounters with these monsters.

Just as the bosses crossed into Marie and Christoff’s range, they fanned out—and stopped.

Side by side, shoulder to shoulder, they weathered the storm of arrows and javelins grunting. Snarling. Damage numbers flared above them, but none faltered.

Then, in perfect unison, they roared.

The Black-Horned Shagrat reared and bellowed. 

The Cobalt Romie pounded its chest like a war drum.

The Roach Mother’s mandibles clashed in a grinding screech.

The Flying Marmoset screamed from the canyon wall, wings flared wide.

The sound crashed together in a blast of fury.

Eyes flared red. Veins pulsed dark beneath skin and armor. And then—a ripple of energy flashed between them, red and raw, webbing out like lightning, binding them in a network of shared strength.

They grew. Not just in size—though that was clear—but in presence.

The turrets didn’t stop. The two rapid-firing arrow towers kept up a steady stream, and the heavy javelin turrets thumped with rhythmic force—but now, their impact barely registered. Arrows snapped against armored hide. Javelins struck but failed to stagger.

The bosses advanced. Faster now. Sharper.

The Tramontane’s frost spread across them again—but the effect dulled almost instantly. They barely slowed.

Their stampede now felt like an earthquake. Dust shook loose from the canyon walls. The ground trembled with every step. The air felt twice as heavy, and even the wind seemed to falter in their wake.

A soldier near Jack swore under his breath and stumbled backward. Another fell outright, collapsing to his knees, frozen in place.

Horace was beside him in an instant, yanking the man upright. 

Jack reached into his inventory, pulling the horn—but before he could lift it to his lips, Amari grabbed his wrist.

“Not the horn,” he said firmly. “Not yet. We’ll need defense this round. Use the ocarina for now.”

Jack nodded. He swapped the horn for the ocarina. And lifted it.

He began to play March of the Embers.

The melody wove into the wind—soft, low, a slow crescendo building behind the tension.

*

Marie’s hand swept across her utility belt, fingers moving by feel alone. She didn’t need to look. She knew where everything was. Every vial, every mark, every groove etched in the leather.

Black-Horned Shagrat. Highest HP pool. Let’s focus on damage, then.

She plucked three vials in a smooth motion. These two for high damage-over-time… and this one to strip its regeneration. The vials were gone from her fingers in seconds, arcing through the air and bursting against the shagrat’s hide in bursts of red, green, and yellow. The beast flinched as the toxins took hold.

Next.

Cobalt Romie—too much armor. Too resistant to status effects. She grabbed three more. Lower its resistances first. Then crack that armor. Finish with something to keep the pressure on.

The vials hit in tight sequence—blue haze, clear shimmer, then a ripple of poison that clung to the Romie’s flank like oil. 

Roach Mother. She’s already behind. Let’s widen the gap even further.

Marie pulled a paralytic, a confusion agent, and her best anti-insect blends. They shattered across the Roach Mother’s path in quick succession. Mist spread. The beast faltered, legs jerking out of rhythm as she careened into the rock wall.

With that out of the way, she focused on the boss closest to her. “One-Eyes!” Marie snapped. “Target the shagrat. On my count—three, two, one—go!”

The hiss of blowpipes joined the battle. Dozens of darts pierced the shagrat’s thick hide. Damage numbers flared, layered on top of Christoff’s arrows, Jack’s buffs, and the Tramontane’s unrelenting cold.

Jack’s song finished, and a red covered all her bombs, increasing her damage. She cast him a quick glance and gave a nod of approval. Nice buff, bard. Still wish you’d blown the horn, though.

She didn’t have time to discuss Amari's decision with him. The battlefield was already shifting.

Amari’s voice rang beside her. “Rob! Take the cavalry—you’re on the Romie!”

Rob leapt from the carriage, eyes already locked on his target. The goat knights thundered after him in perfect sync, lances leveled, hooves pounding like a drumline.

Marie’s fingers hesitated for just a moment as she watched him go.

Confident. Reckless. Brave. And, lately… harder to ignore.

She pulled a grenade without thinking, hurled it at the Shagrat—and missed the mark by a few inches. Not enough to matter. But still… less than perfect.

What am I getting myself into? Does he even like me for real? Or is he just a flirt?

Her gaze drifted toward Jack. She liked Jack. Trusted him. She loved having him in their team.

What if things don’t work out with Rob… would it tear the team apart?

Too many doubts clamored for space in her mind.

Is it okay that he’s a little younger than me? He seems like a good guy—but so did my ex. Before he became a monster. Should I tell Rob about the divorce? Is that too soon? Would that throw him off?

She clenched her jaw. Not now. Not in the middle of a fight.

But the thoughts didn’t leave. They lingered—longer than they should have.

*

Rob inspected the knights under his command. They looked steady, lances at the ready. The goats beneath them pawed the ground, restless but disciplined.

Good. They were ready.

Amari’s voice rang out. “Rob! Take the cavalry—you’re on the Romie!”

Giant psycho-squirrel. Got it!

Rob vaulted from the carriage, landing in a run. Hooves thundered behind him as the goat knights followed, formation tight, lances low and gleaming.

The rhythm of their gallop built behind him—clop-clop-clop, like a war drum echoing off the canyon walls.

I feel just silly leading a charge of knights riding goats, he thought, grinning despite himself.

Then came the notes—sharp, rising, confident. And so fast! Jack was starting to play the knockback song.

I really have to give it to my cousin. He’s got a gift for music.

It was still hard to believe how fast everything had changed. Just last week, he’d been working with his buddies at IronIre. Now? He was hiding from them in a hidden map, running with Jack’s team, facing off against raid bosses.

And her…

A flush crept up his neck, but he shook it off. Focus. Everyone on the team was a genius. Amari. Horace. Marie. And surprise, surprise, his cousin!

Freaking geniuses, all of them.

He was just the lucky tagalong. A sympathy invite. A favor from a kind cousin.

He had to prove he belonged.

The song reached its peak. He surged ahead.

Stealth.

His form blurred. Shadows bent around him as he darted wide, circling the Romie.

Up close, the boss looked even scarier. Hulking and hunched, every inch packed with metallic-blue muscle. Its face twitched constantly—like it couldn’t decide whether to snarl or grin.

Yikes. Marie wasn’t kidding—this thing is monstrous.

Her poisons still clung to its hide—hazy clouds and shimmering oils marking weak points. He zeroed in.

Let’s do this.

He broke stealth.

He unleashed his most powerful combo.

Bleeding Puncture!

-81!

-5

Triple Slash

-64!

-5

-69!

-5

-71!

-5

Backstab!

-226!

Thanks to the [Toxic Tar Pit] package that made his first 10 attacks ignore 30% damage, plus [Mountain-Hewn Whetstones] that increased his crit by 15%, the damage was staggering.

The Romie roared, twisted toward him—claws sweeping.

Rob dodged, causing the boss to swipe at the air in fury.

And then Jack’s song ended.

Behind the Romie, the goat knights crashed in like a tidal wall. Energy exploded—multiple colors flaring, mostly emerald green from Into the Breach. Lances struck in perfect sync, timed to peak together.

BOOOOOOM!

The Romie stumbled back, howling. A massive chunk of its HP vanished, dropping it into yellow.

Rob stepped clear of the chaos, chest heaving.

I can’t believe Jack times those songs so perfectly. How does he do that?

A screech tore behind him. Rob spun.

The Roach Mother.

Tall. Slick. All legs and teeth and twitching limbs. It looked like a giraffe had a baby with a nightmare. Its neck twisted unnaturally, mandibles clacking.

“Was it waiting for me?!” Rob yelped, dodging aside.

But it wasn’t after him.

The Roach Mother barreled toward the goat knights. They veered to avoid it—but one rider was too slow.

The creature lunged, caught the goat and its knight in its forelimbs, and hoisted them toward its gaping jaws.

“Oh no, you don’t!” Rob raced up the canyon wall, launched himself, and leapt.

Pommel Strike!

His dagger smashed into the creature’s eye-stalk, making it screech and flinch. It dropped the knight.

The goat crashed down, the knight tumbling beside it—both still alive, if scraped up.

Then the Roach Mother snapped its head sideways—BAM!—slamming Rob into the canyon wall.

-98

“Oof! That hurt!”

It came at him again, but he slipped away just in time, feet pounding dirt as he ran to regroup with the knights.

Alright. Let’s charge the psycho-squirrel again.

He cast a glance toward Marie.

I wonder how cool I look right now.

Ch. 229 – Sandwiches

INDEX

Ch. 231 - Unmovable Object