Chapter 38 - The King’s Battlefield - 3
Total SP count: 93,702.
I’d been saving it for Lirael’s seal and awakening, but... fuck it...if I am not alive whats the use then??
I will earn more SP when I kill the Goblin King anyway...
Competing in raw strength now was a fool’s errand. The goblin king’s regeneration had just doubled — a 100% increase. And unless I landed sothing outright fatal, every wound I carved into him would knit back together in seconds. That left only one option: agility. I just had to outlast him... keep him dancing until that green abomination burned through whatever foul fuel were keeping him alive.
The B-rankers were already running on fus themselves, their blows sluggish, faces pale. Even Brad looked tense, his jaw clenched, knuckles flexing like he was waiting for sothing fall out of sky and help him. That "sothing" was apparently him.
He sighed. These are disgustingly expensive... I’m billing soone for this later.
With a sharp flick of his fingers, he pulled up the interface and dumped SP into his cart without hesitation:
Tempest Drought – 65,000 SP
Bloodfang Elixir – 20,000 SP
Mid-tier Healing Potion – 1,000 SP
SP left: 7,702. A pitiful scrap.
Broke again
He reached into his bag — or at least pretended to — and pulled them out, letting the crowd see exactly what he was holding. The Tempest Drought glimred in the torchlight, a bluish-green swirl that churned like storm clouds trapped in glass. The Bloodfang Elixir looked exactly like its na implied — the thick, dark red of fresh blood.
Eyes followed my every movent. Good. Let them watch.
He uncorked both, tipped them back, and drained them in a single motion. The bitter tallic tang of the Bloodfang burned down my throat, chased by the sharp, electric chill of the Tempest Drought.
The fight was about to change.
The mont the last drop slid down his throat, it hit.
A violent surge of energy ripped through him, hot and electric, racing down every nerve. His pulse thundered in his ears, his breath ca sharp and controlled. Veins bulged along his arms and legs, a map of living steel under his skin, each one thrumming with borrowed power. His jaw tightened, a deep frown creasing his face as he forced the wild storm inside him into focus.
Then—one step.
And he was gone.
"Wha—?!"
"Did you see—?!"
"No... he’s too fast...!"
"What the hell did he just drink?!"
Gasps and curses followed in his wake, but Ethan was already there—materializing at the goblin king’s blind side, too fast for even the beast’s twisted instincts to register. His longblade ca in a perfect arc, steel whistling, slicing a deep, jagged cut across the king’s face.
The monster roared, snapping its head toward the strike—only to find Ethan was gone again.
This ti he appeared behind it, his blade cleaving a line from the beast’s waist to its shoulder in a clean, brutal motion. Flesh tore, blood sprayed.
Before the king could so much as stagger, Ethan vanished a third ti—reappearing right at the creature’s one functioning eye. He drove his blade forward in a vicious stab. Bone stopped the sword’s full passage, but it didn’t matter—the king was now completely blind.
Roarrrrr!!!
A guttural, panicked bellow erupted from the goblin’s throat as it thrashed wildly, claws tearing at the ground, smashing stone and air alike.
Ethan’s mind worked fast. No... I’m not waiting for you to run out of fus, I will end you before that!
Before it could heal
He shifted his stance, and bolstered his fist with everything the Bloodfang and Tempest had given him.
Then—SMASH.
Just raw and unadulterated Strength
The impact cracked like thunder, his fist slamming square into the king’s chest. The sound of bone fracturing echoed over the battlefield, and the giant was driven to its knees, panting, trembling under its own weight.
It didn’t yield.
Two more minutes before backlash... I can end this.
Ethan resud his assault, a blur of movent and steel. Every heartbeat, another strike. The other B-rankers, seeing the shift, lunged in whenever an opening appeared, hacking and stabbing at the monster’s flanks. Arrows continued to whistle past—Lirael, worried but unwavering, never stopped her precise, harrying shots.
The fight beca a storm. Roars, shouts, and steel clashing in rapid succession. The goblin’s howls turned ragged, its swings growing slower, heavier, weaker.
When only thirty seconds remained, Ethan darted in one last ti, driving his blade deep under its ribs. The goblin king convulsed, exhaled a rattling final breath—
—and collapsed, the earth shaking beneath its massive corpse.
Killed Goblin King - 50,000xp (50,000 SP)
(Rest goes to various assists)
Huuu.....thats..kinda low...
[System Notification]
Current Level: 9
XP: 88,404 / 78,235
Threshold reached. Additional XP will be stored until your Class has been assigned.
Do you want to move to Trial Grounds right now?
[ Yes ] [ Later ]
Finally! But
Obviously Later...
Silence.
The horde had fallen with its master. From the far edges of the cavern, the other adventurers—now done with their own bloody cleanup—finally lowered their weapons. For the first ti since the king’s frenzy began, the battlefield felt... still.
It took a mont for the truth to sink in—but when it did, the cavern erupted.
Yeaaaaaaahhhhaaaaaa.....
Cheers of victory rolled through the air, echoing off stone walls. So adventurers rushed to the corpses of the monsters they’d slain, prying out monster cores with greedy hands. Others hurried to the wounded, binding gashes and pouring healing potions. A few simply collapsed to the ground, weapons still in hand, breathing hard with the disbelief of the living.
The thirty seconds ticked down.
Lirael was already making her way toward Ethan, relief just starting to ease the tension in her eyes—when his body suddenly swayed.
His face drained of all color. Every muscle in him seed to lock up in agony, his movents reduced to shallow, jerking twitches.
"Ethan!"
She was barely three steps away when his knees buckled—only for a broad shadow to step in.
Brad caught him before he hit the ground, one massive hand bracing Ethan’s back.
"You’ve outdone yourself, kid," Brad rumbled, voice gruff but carrying a thread of respect. "Now rest. Leave the rest to us."
Ethan’s lips curled in a faint, weary smile before his eyes slid shut. Unconscious.
Brad had seen it—the seamless way Ethan and Lirael had fought together. Without hesitation, he turned to her.
"Watch over him."
"I will," she said without blinking.
---
The battle was over, the aftermath settling in. Supplies were gathered, bodies moved, and the wounded tended to. The B-ranked swordsman—now swathed in fresh bandages—rested against the cavern wall, eyes closed in exhaustion.
Not far from him, Ethan lay beside Lirael, still pale and unmoving. She sat close, every inch of her posture radiating a quiet, sharp warning. Her gaze swept the cavern with the cold precision of a drawn bowstring, and anyone who thought to approach them stopped short under the weight of her eyes.
Still, her stern watchfulness couldn’t mask the worry etched in her features every ti she looked at Ethan’s face.
---
After a while, a faint groan broke the quiet. Ethan’s eyes fluttered open, the dim cavern light glinting off the lingering sheen of sweat on his brow.
Lirael, who hadn’t taken her eyes off him for more than a heartbeat, noticed instantly. Her entire expression lit up.
"Ethan!"
She shifted closer, the soft rustle of her armor breaking the stillness, and clasped his hand gently.
"Are you alright?"
Ethan tried to sit up—but a sharp, jolting pain shot through his body, forcing a grimace onto his face.
Lirael’s voice softened, but carried a firmness that allowed no argunt.
"Don’t move. Just stay as you are."
He tilted his head toward her, his voice weak but tinged with the ghost of a smile.
"Then at least... stop making that sad face. There’s a healing potion in my bag—get it for ."
The comnt caught her off guard, a faint pink coloring her cheeks before she turned away with a small huff. Still, she reached into his bag, retrieved the potion, and helped guide it to his lips, her fingers steady despite the heat rising in her face.
The change was imdiate—color returned to his skin, his breathing steadied, and the tension in his body eased.
Ethan leaned back with a lopsided grin.
"So... how was my performance?"
Lirael’s relief shifted into sothing sharper. Her eyes narrowed, a piercing glare locking on him.
"If I ever catch you doing sothing that stupid again," she said, her voice low but laced with an undeniable warmth, "I’ll co and kill you myself."
Ethan chuckled softly. "So that’s how it is, huh? Then... have you decided to travel with ?"
Her lips parted, but for a mont she didn’t answer. A blush blood on her cheeks before she quickly masked it, her tone turning firm.
"Hmm? Is that even a thing to ask now? Of course I will. I’ll be adventuring with you from now on."
Ethan’s grin widened—just enough to make her glance away, pretending she didn’t see it.
Just then
"Haaah? What this!"
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