Chapter 20 – Three Paths, One Countdown

  The air sliced across Kuto’s face like frozen blades.

  Three seconds of free fall. The world spun in a vertiginous spiral—blue sky, green earth, sea of goblins repeating. The wind tore away any sound except the thunder of his own heartbeat in his ears. His stomach floated loose inside his body.

  Zenk’s golden magic caught him at the last instant.

  It wasn’t gentle. It felt like diving into thick honey, his body twisting involuntarily until his feet pointed downward. The pressure squeezed his chest. For an impossible second, Kuto couldn’t breathe.

  Then the impact came.

  His knees flexed violently, absorbing force that would have shattered bones without the magic. The shock vibrated through his skeleton, racing up his spine like an electric wave. His right hand instinctively touched the ground, fingers sinking into soft earth.

  Kuto took a deep breath. Once. Air burned in his throat.

  He rose slowly.

  The forest floor gave way beneath his feet—dark soil covered in dead leaves that exhaled a sweet, nauseating smell of decomposition. The wind carried another scent too. Metallic. Rust. Dried blood soaked into abandoned weapons.

  The others landed in sequence.

  Jack hit hard, making the ground tremble. He stood immediately, axe in his right hand, sword in his left. S?nia landed laughing—too nervous a sound. Romeu vomited violently, shaking. Haru simply vanished into the shadows.

  Tension hung in the air like invisible smoke.

  That was when the first goblin appeared.

  It didn’t come alone.

  From between the trees, dozens emerged simultaneously. Greenish skin stained with dirt and old blood. Irregular teeth bared. The sound was worse—guttural grunts blending into a rising cacophony. They beat weapons against shields, creating a tribal rhythm. Thum-thum. Thum-thum.

  “PREPARE YOURSELVES!” Jack roared.

  The axe rose. The sword pointed forward.

  “Gunja, rear guard! Use holy magic! Célia, stay protected and heal when needed!”

  Gunja adjusted his gleaming shield. He struck the center with his fist—GONG—a sound that echoed like a promise.

  “The rest, with me! Hold formation!”

  Jack charged. And hell began.

  Haru was faster.

  He was already moving, a shadow gliding across the terrain. His feet touched the ground so lightly that not even the leaves made noise.

  The first goblin never saw him. The dagger pierced the side of its neck. Clean cut. A fountain of blood painted the leaves. The body hadn’t even begun to fall before Haru vanished.

  He reappeared behind another. Two strikes—kidney, cervical spine. The goblin dropped without a sound. A third turned, desperately raising a spear.

  Too late.

  Haru dodged by mere centimeters. Counterattacked. Dagger rose under the jaw, pierced through, skewered the brain. Instant death.

  Every movement flowed into the next. No waste. Only lethal efficiency turned into an art few could appreciate. Seven goblins dead in fifteen seconds.

  His face remained calm. But his eyes shone with something deeper. As if each death filled a hole that could never truly be sealed.

  Jack watched for a second.

  “Let’s go before he finishes them all!” he shouted.

  He exploded into action. Adrenaline surged through his body like electricity. Muscles responded perfectly. The world sharpened. Combat focus activated.

  He spun the sword. Air whistled. The blade cut through the first goblin spear. Sparks flew. He alternated between sword and axe—finesse and brutality. Every strike had purpose.

  One goblin raised a spear to attack Célia. Jack spun. Horizontal slash. The sword severed the arm at the elbow. The hand separated from the body. The goblin screamed. The axe came down, splitting the skull.

  Another charged Gunja. Jack leapt three meters, body twisting in mid-air. He landed already striking. The axe hit the shoulder with brutal force, cracking bone, sinking into the chest.

  Jack smiled. His element.

  Selina floated above, eyes glowing faintly blue.

  The staff spun, tracing patterns that left luminous trails. Dark-blue energy gathered at the tip, condensing until it shone like a miniature star. The air around it visibly vibrated.

  “Get back!”

  She released.

  The blast exploded like an invisible cannon. It struck the first goblin and detonated. The explosion expanded in a perfect sphere. Five goblins were hurled backward. Some slammed into trees with the sound of breaking bones. Others fell limp, organs liquefied by magical energy.

  She spun the staff again. Explosion. Six dead.

  Again. Explosion. Four dead.

  Each attack traced lines of light connecting her to the impact points. The sound blended with screams, creating a symphony of destruction. Her face glowed—not just from the magic, but from pure exhilaration. A determined smile on her lips.

  “More! Come on!”

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  ---

  Sensi remained motionless, eyes closed, hands extended.

  She felt every object within fifty meters as points of mental light. She didn’t need to see. She saw better with her eyes closed.

  She opened them. Gestured.

  A stone axe trembled. Rose. Began to spin, gaining impossible speed. The air whistled around the blade.

  She pointed. The axe flew.

  It pierced two goblins simultaneously, skewering their chests. The bodies fell pinned to the shaft, forming a grotesque pile.

  Another gesture. A spear answered. Accelerated like a missile. It struck a group of three goblins running together. The tip pierced the first, continued through the second, finally the third. The spear kept them joined even in death.

  She raised both hands. Six weapons rose simultaneously. They orbited around her in accelerating circles until they became a blurring ring.

  She opened her hands. They fired.

  Six goblins dropped dead. A sword pierced a skull. An axe cleaved a torso. A spear removed a head completely.

  Sensi laughed. A soft, musical sound.

  “This is… beautiful.”

  Romeu held perfect archer posture.

  Left foot forward, knee bent. Torso sideways. Bow raised, string drawn to his lips. Breathing controlled.

  Release.

  The arrow flew—FWIP. Twenty meters. Pierced a goblin’s eye. Instant death.

  Three goblins flanked. Romeu calculated angles, speeds, distances. All in a fraction of a second. He fired three arrows in rapid succession. Thunk-thunk-thunk.

  Throat. Heart. Eye.

  All three fell.

  At the same instant, Gunja leapt, spinning in mid-air. Three golden spiritual arrows materialized. They fired with bell-like sounds. Pierced the foreheads of three goblins coming from another direction.

  Gunja landed with a metallic crash.

  “Hold formation!”

  S?nia watched with wide, almost feverish eyes.

  The sorceress class pulsed inside her. She felt mana flowing through her veins like hot liquid. The staff vibrated in her hands.

  Goblins charged in a mass. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty.

  She looked at them. Smiled. A macabre smile.

  “I’ve always wanted to live this!” she shouted. “ALWAYS!”

  She raised the staff. The gem shone intensely, then exploded into blinding light.

  The arcane explosion erupted in front of her.

  A wave of magical force expanded violently. Ten goblins were hurled back like ragdolls, bodies breaking in mid-air, limbs separating, blood painting the sky.

  The boom was deafening. The ground shook. Trees swayed violently.

  In the pavilion above, the king leaned forward. The princess smiled faintly.

  S?nia felt adrenaline pulsing. Every explosion fed something inside her. She wanted more.

  Dimitri watched and felt competition awaken.

  “You think only you can cause explosions?”

  He raised his hands. Flames materialized. A propulsion spell launched him upward. He floated above the field.

  “You’re all in for it!”

  He began to cast. His hands traced glowing runes. Magical circles spun around him. The temperature rose. The air rippled.

  “Ultra Mega Fireball!”

  His hands came together. Energy condensed. A person-sized sphere of spinning, pulsing fire formed.

  He hurled it.

  The ball descended like a meteor. It struck the center of a dense group.

  The explosion made S?nia’s look like child’s play. Fire expanded in a wave that consumed everything within five meters. Thirteen goblins incinerated instantly. The heat reached even the group members.

  Dimitri landed. Smiled, satisfied.

  Kuto attacked differently.

  Stealthy movements. Controlled speed. Calculated precision. He grabbed a fallen goblin spear. Used it. Three strikes. Three deaths. Discarded.

  He observed ten goblins forming ahead.

  Every copied power is one step closer. Closer to strength enough to protect what remains.

  “Romeu! Bow!”

  The archer tossed it. Kuto caught.

  [ADAPTABLE CLASS: COPYING SKILL]

  [SKILL: Spiritual Arrows]

  Ten blue arrows materialized. He fired. They embedded in ten goblins. All fell simultaneously.

  Kuto smiled. Pure satisfaction in efficiency.

  Minutes later, no goblins remained.

  The group gathered, breathing heavily. The field was covered in bodies. The smell was horrible—blood, viscera, feces.

  Célia and Gunja healed everyone. [HP RESTORED: 100%]

  “I’m exhausted…” Dimitri muttered.

  Jack opened the system shop. Bought stamina potions. The effect was instant. Exhaustion evaporated.

  Jack looked upward.

  “Your Majesty! We’re finished here!”

  The king’s voice echoed. “Excellent. But this was only the beginning.”

  Suddenly, the ground shook.

  Everyone looked. A colossal presence emerged from the trees.

  A four-meter bear advanced slowly. Coal-black fur. Every inch of its body studded with weapons—swords, spears, axes, shields. Some still bled, showing recent battles. Its red eyes dripped blood. Its heavy breathing made the ground vibrate with each step.

  The group felt raw fear and adrenaline.

  Kuto narrowed his eyes, assessing. This isn’t a test. It’s elimination.

  Jack gripped his axe tightly, muscles tense.

  Heavy silence fell. Only the creature’s footsteps echoed—each one sounding like a war drum.

  The real trial was about to begin.

  Meanwhile, still in the kingdom of THORNVALE, Steve lay in his bed.

  Steve didn’t sleep again that night.

  He sat by the window, watching Thornvale awaken slowly. Bakers lighting ovens. Guards changing shifts. Normal life that seemed impossible after everything he had lived through.

  The connection remained at 3%. For now.

  The system helps me. But every help seems to exact an invisible price. As if something inside me is being traded away.

  A knock at the door broke his thoughts.

  “Steve.” Dagon’s voice. Firm. “Meeting. Now.”

  Steve stood, dressed quickly. Opened the door. Dagon stood there, arms crossed. Keara and Jelím waited in the hallway.

  “Let’s go down.”

  The main hall was nearly empty. They sat in a secluded corner.

  “We need money,” Dagon said directly. “Supplies. Equipment. And information.”

  Keara added gently: “The Guild has quests. We can start with something simple.”

  Jelím remained silent, but watched Steve through her cracked mask.

  “What do we have?” Steve asked.

  Dagon slid a scroll across.

  QUEST: Investigation of Disappearances

  LOCATION: Outskirts of Thornvale

  REWARD: 50 gold coins

  RANK: C

  “Three people vanished in the last five days,” Dagon explained. “Guards found nothing.”

  “Sounds simple,” Steve murmured.

  “Simple pays little. But it’s a start.”

  Keara touched his arm. “How are you? Did you sleep well?”

  The lie came easily. “Yes. I’m fine.”

  Jelím tilted her head. She didn’t believe it.

  “Then let’s go,” Dagon stood. “We leave before noon.”

  The Guild was in the central square. A three-story stone building, bustling. Inside it smelled of old beer and sweat. Dozens of adventurers filled the hall.

  Dagon went straight to the counter. A middle-aged woman with a scar attended them.

  “Quest for the disappearances. We’ll take it.”

  “Rank?”

  “Not registered.”

  “All players from the central continent must first undergo admission exams to become official adventurers in the kingdom of Adventus.”

  With that, Dagon scratched his head and said, almost forgetting,

  “But here they have temporary adventurer licenses available.”

  The woman said yes.

  Then Dagon continued,

  “I request a license.”

  The woman took Steve to a side room to obtain the temporary license.

  Ten minutes later, he had the card with the license. Rank F—the lowest.

  Then he proceeded and requested cards for Dagon, Jelím, and Keara.

  He examined their cards closely.

  After a while, her expression changed—from surprise and astonishment—and she looked fixedly at the three. Her voice faltering.

  “Are you sure you want this Rank C quest?”

  And Dagon, relaxed with a smile that already knew everything, said,

  “We want to start from the lowest.”

  Then the woman continued,

  “The quest is Rank C,” she said. “You shouldn’t accept it with someone at Rank F. But we’re short on people. Accept at your own risk.”

  With that, they left the guild and began walking through the city toward another gate.

  They exited through the south gate.

  The outskirts were different. The forest pressed close. The air was colder.

  “The three victims disappeared in this area,” Dagon consulted the map. “The last was two days ago. A young hunter. Never returned.”

  Keara conjured tracking magic. Golden light emanated from her hands, spreading across the ground.

  “There. Recent footprints.”

  They went deeper. The forest grew denser. Less light.

  That was when Steve felt it.

  [THREAT DETECTED: 64%]

  [DIRECTION: NORTH]

  [DISTANCE: ~30M]

  The system detects. But what else is changing in me?

  “Wait. There’s something there.”

  Dagon drew his weapon silently. Jelím floated, hands ready.

  They advanced carefully. They found a clearing. In the center, signs of struggle. Blood on the ground. Torn clothes. And bones. Human. Recent.

  “Shit,” Dagon muttered.

  Then they heard it.

  It wasn’t an ordinary growl. It was deep, guttural. Wrong. As if something were trying to imitate an animal but failing. The kind of sound that made every primitive instinct scream danger.

  It came from above.

  Steve slowly raised his eyes.

  In the trees above, something moved among the shadows. Too large to be a normal animal. The silhouette was wrong—limbs too long, joints bending at impossible angles.

  Then he saw the eyes.

  Multiple. Glowing yellow-green in the dimness. Blinking out of sync. Six. Eight. He lost count.

  The HUD exploded:

  [CRITICAL THREAT: 94%]

  [CLASSIFICATION: UNKNOWN]

  [RECOMMENDATION: FLEE]

  “Run,” Dagon whispered. “Now.”

  The creature leapt from the trees.

  Meanwhile, in another part of the central continent, Júlia was in a tavern.

  Júlia was in high spirits.

  The mug of beer in her hand was the third—or fourth? It didn’t matter. She wore red knight armor. Her short pink hair was disheveled, stuck to her forehead with battle sweat.

  The tavern was packed. Her group of nine players occupied two tables, all laughing, celebrating.

  “ANOTHER ROUND!” Júlia shouted, raising her mug.

  The others shouted along.

  They had defeated a horde of wild bears. Twenty of them. The battle had lasted an hour. It was brutal. It was perfect.

  “We’re really in a game!” she yelled.

  Finally. A real adventure in a fantasy world outside of video games. Finally something that filled the void. In the real world, she had always felt something missing. As if she lived only half a life. But here… here the pain is real. The victory is real. And for the first time, I truly exist.

  She drank more. Laughed more.

  That was when the light changed.

  “Hey… what’s that?”

  Júlia turned to the window. The sky was darkening. A massive black cloud covered the entire village. Expanding rapidly.

  Then people began to fall.

  Not the players. The inhabitants. One by one, they collapsed. The bartender. The local customers. Children. All falling unconscious. As if their souls were being sucked away.

  “GET OUT!” someone shouted.

  Júlia dropped the mug. Grabbed her sword. Ran outside.

  The street was covered in bodies. Dozens. All breathing, but unconscious. Eyes open but empty.

  And above, floating in the center of the square, was a figure.

  Completely covered by a black cloak. Nothing visible—not eyes, not hands. Just black fabric concealing everything.

  Beside it, a grimoire floated. Open. Pages turning on their own. The grimoire pulsed with strange magic—colors shifting between purple, green, black. Each pulse sent an invisible wave that made the bodies shudder.

  The nine players gathered, weapons raised.

  “What is that thing?!” someone shouted.

  The figure didn’t respond. It simply floated. The grimoire continued pulsing. More people fell.

  Júlia felt her heart race.

  This isn’t adventure. Adventures have heroes. Have rules. Have meaning. That thing up there… that’s a nightmare wearing the skin of a game.

  It wasn’t excitement this time.

  It was fear.

  Real fear!