Waking up first, the first thing I smell is the smoke from the extinguished candles.
I stand up and start rolling up the mat Harald offered me yesterday. Carefully walking across the cave to avoid making noise, I place it next to him while he sleeps.
What’s a better way to start the day than spending my one skill point? It always gives me a bit of a spring as the burst of energy is released. This should be the equivalent of a cold morning shower.
I want to start the day with a smile on my face. Not that not having to go to school isn’t enough, but rounding those two numbers is pretty damn satisfying.
<table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 36.6613%; background-color: rgba(52, 73, 94, 1)" border="1">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Markus Hale</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">foreigner</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">level 60</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Strength</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">60</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">Focus [Bonus Skill]</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Agility</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">3</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">no skill</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Willpower</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">4</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">no skill</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 33.466%">Endurance</td>
<td style="width: 33.466%">6</td>
<td style="width: 33.1645%">no skill</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
Good!
Examining my arms, I assume they are well-rested, but I must be careful. Some kind of speed-up healing should be my priority. Those “green berries and snails” mentioned on that small paper… I need to return to where we fought them and scout the area.
Maybe that little jerk could help with the search. I chuckle to myself.
Now I tiptoe away to the crack and squeeze out of the cave. My clothes catch on the coarse, sharp fissure as I squeeze sideways.
The forest seems quiet, still asleep. Now, to finally test what I was waiting for all night.
I wonder how to properly test that enchantment on my hammer.
First of all, it adjusts its weight based on how much power I use to wield it—good. If I hold it with two fingers, there''s no strain on my arm at all, which I already know.
I hold the hammerhead with my left hand and grasp the handle with my right. With just two fingers, I give the hammerhead a slight heft—it feels light.
Then, I channel Focus into my right hand, pushing it beyond what I assume is necessary—the stretch marks on my skin widen, almost as if my skin is about to tear.
I heft it again with my left hand.
Now it feels like holding a heavy dumbbell—definitely a LOT heavier than normal.
“This will do!” I cheerfully say to myself.
“What will do?” Harald asks, squeezing through the fissure.
“Fuck!”
I wince back, startled by Mike again. His head pops through the fissure above Harald.
It''s Mike, with his headband switched. Again, that marble-black eye, deep like a black hole in the universe, ready to suck my soul.
“You won’t believe me, but ready your weapons,” he says, gazing into the distance.
“How many?” I ask.
“A lot.”
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“Boys, the carcasses of the bugs from yesterday are gone!” Harald observes while squeezing through the crack. His chest pockets catch on the sharp, coarse rocky side.
“It seems these are the cleaners of the forest,” Astrid notes, peeking from behind.
“Vultures,” Harald nods.
<hr>
I guess this fight will mostly be mine, as my hammer is capable of cracking these hard shells.
Activating Focus, I stand firm, legs spread wide, ready for the bugs to attack first. With power like this, camping might be a good idea. I just need one dodge and one hit.
Channeling a slight amount of muscle mass and strength to my right hand, I prepare for the swing.
A bug flies straight at me, and I focus only on one spot—the spot where I think my hammer would perfectly lock in—above its tiny horn.
*Bang!*
I didn’t even have to dodge. My hammer lands precisely on the spot.
My grin fades immediately as I realize it didn’t crack its head.
The headshot I landed probably made it only super angry.
I quickly analyze the bug’s structure up close: super dense and hard, polished and slippery. Its black head, made of a thick shell, with eyes almost indistinguishable from the rest, gives it an alien-like appearance. The tiny horn on top is rock-solid and hard.
It’s like a small stump.
Wait! Was it bigger than yesterday’s bugs? Is it ripped off? I ask myself. It looks like it''s not fully grown yet.
Or are these baby bugs? It can’t be.
Because if they are… there could be a matron?
Fuck, we are in an overpowered area again?
At least I’m over-leveled, but it’s still not that easy. Or is this just the regular difficulty?
I miss the days when I was smashing nutria heads—compared to this, I wasn’t even scared.
<hr>
Mike doesn’t hesitate. While I observe the creature, he buries one of his sabers under the wing’s cavity, cutting it off. This forces the bug to back off, revealing its weakest part—its belly.
*Bang!*
Harald takes a quick shot at the exposed belly.
The bug whines and tries to escape, white fluid leaking from the bullet hole.
“Hah, yeah!” The boys get excited after their first kill of an armored enemy.
Another one is approaching.
“You think repeating this will work?” I look at Harald.
“If it does, we have a strategy for leveling up.”
I prepare for another attack, channeling my power—but not too much. I’d rather save it for when things get serious.
*Bang!*
My hammer strikes the bug, and it loses its momentum.
Mike cuts off one wing, and Astrid takes a shot at the other, speeding up the process.
*Bang!*
One bullet and the liquid is leaking again. Harald definitely deserves to keep up with the couple at least. He deserves all the kills he just gained.
<hr>
This strategy works, but not for long. Although Harald scores most of the points, the other bugs quickly learn from the ones we''ve killed.
The new arrivals land on the ground, shutting off their wing covers.
Mike and Harald withdraw from the battle after scoring a few more hits.
<hr>
The bug, now aware of its weak spot, switches to ground position. It seems even more dangerous now.
Six legs are more than enough to outrun us, and with nearly impenetrable armor?
Dang it, they know what they’re doing.
Harald stops shooting altogether; as some of his bullets ricochet off the rock-hard, slippery head, posing a greater danger to us. Others get buried inside the thick, flexible shell, but the bugs don’t seem disturbed at all.
Not even their health bars show much change. Their shells are strong enough to absorb the momentum of the bullets.
Are they relying on me to finish off the bugs? How is my hammer smash more powerful than a bullet?
I bet Harald has bigger calibers than this small Glock. Not that I’m dumb about weapons, but this one he uses seems like a gas airsoft gun.
<hr>
*Bang!*
Another strike lands on the alien-like head.
The bug is stunned for a moment, and I swing my hammer again with perfect precision. It seems that the pressure is sharpening my senses. If they keep coming one by one, we might have a chance.
I inhale deeply and *Bang!*
land another hit above the tiny horn, which catches the hammerhead from slipping. The bug is grounded, yet its head remains almost intact.
I feel that this hit wasn''t absorbed—every bit of force I delivered was applied. Yet it''s still not enough.
The bug is constantly facing me head-on, and there''s no way I can reach its belly. Not even for Harald. Not even for Mike.
Mike waves his saber in the air, backing up while protecting Astrid from the smaller bugs approaching. His saber clangs off their horns and shiny black heads.
“Darn it!” I’m not thrilled about what I have to do, but going beyond my limit is, once again, necessary. I must still be under-leveled.
Despite being level 60, I can’t crack through them.
I need more power—not just now, but in general. This weak body disgusts me.
Yolo, then. I’ll probably damage my arms beyond repair, but what’s the worst that could happen? We die and start over? The only thing that concerns me is the pain!
I let the power of Focus flow freely from my core, sucking and shifting the flesh from other parts of my body that aren’t in use. I’m once again disfigured.
My head wants to push forward, but my body resists. I remember that moment when Mike got pulverized by the cripple. That image flashes before my eyes, and I feel my arms bloating.
All I can imagine is detonating myself, making a mess, and saving no one. The fear of pain holds me back.
Two or three more bugs are on the way, and I start to panic. Panic alternates with anger.
“I can’t believe we’re about to get wrecked by fucking bugs.”
I say this out loud, angrily, through gritted teeth.
“Aaaaaaaargh!” I turn my head as I hear Mike screaming in pain.