A goblin sapper with a fuse nearly fully lit, dove toward Zadina. She had her back to it, her hammer wedged in the cranium of a hob-goblin—what she called the giant goblins.

  “Watch out!” Serina shouted. An arrow grazed the ear of the tiny creature, but it kept coming, holding the barrel overhead while cackling madly.

  I yanked on the hilt of my sword, its blade embedded in the chest of another fallen hob-goblin.

  I can’t get there in time. But it’s small, maybe small enough.

  [Shadow Fingers]

  My hand thrust upwards and a large black hand shot up out of the shadow beneath the sapper. It thrashed against my grip, but my shadow was solid enough to hold on.

  I threw it back at the wall of goblins collapsing on us.

  Zadina spun. For an instant, her eyes fell on the large shadowy hand, but then were drawn by the squealing sapper as it tumbled back toward its line.

  Clunk… Clunk… Clunk…

  The fuse lit to the end.

  The barrel swelled, and then disintegrated into a burst of blinding light. There were three other sappers right next to it, primed for detonation.

  “Get down!” I screamed, diving behind the hob-goblin body.

  Zadina raised her shield as a concussive wave blasted it, followed by three more explosions in rapid succession.

  “Holy Stand!”

  The heels of her boots dug into the ground. She bared her teeth. But a soft glow outlined her body as she stood tall against the explosions, shielding those behind her from the successive blasts.

  Some kind of Paladin skill?

  A wave of fiery conflagration roared overhead, its heat baking my back and scalp. My ears were ringing when I pushed myself up into the dust-choked air.

  Behind us, the rest of the party seemed at least intact. Kamuel and Serina were behind Zadina so they were covered. Gorian had weathered the blast with a few charred streaks on his armor, probably due to some class skill.

  Justin was hiding behind a broken section of wall. “What the hell, man! What are those things? We need to get out of here!”

  “No. We have the advantage. We attack. On me!”

  I stepped over the now half burnt corpse. An armored goblin staggered into my path, bleeding out of its ears and eyes.

  My sword cut the first one down, and then the next few. Mercy would be finishing this quickly. I waved the others forward. “Come. We’re dead if we stay still.”

  I cut down another stumbling goblin and pointed at a tall archway lined with skulls and bones up ahead on the right side of the hallway. It looked out of place against the crumbling once-smooth walls and the tiled ceiling, the skulls radiating an ominous aura. It led to the chamber. “We will finish it there!”

  The sight of the archway, or perhaps more specifically the skulls seemed to make Zadina’s eyes light up with zeal. “I’m with you!”

  She surged ahead and her hammer smashed into the club of a hob-goblin coming out of the archway.

  “Let’s go!” Gorian hauled Justin onto his feet, and charged into the fray.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Justin moaned, but a ball of flames was already in his palm.

  Arrows shot past me, and Kamuel’s chant drummed a steady rhythm, a pulse with weight in our chests driving us forward.

  Zadina laid an unrelenting barrage of hammer strikes at the enemy, knocking them back. Gorian stepped into the gap beside her, swinging his greatsword in wide arcs.

  I noticed something about the way they fought. Perhaps I was biased, but their style seemed to lack efficiency. In The Hundred Years War the focus was on one strike, one kill, getting the most damage to a vital and then moving on to the next. Slice leg artery, cut throat, stab eye. Finished off quickly and shallow so that your sword was free to parry or move on. But here, the focus was more on attrition—just throwing as much damage as possible against your foe.

  Even when they used a special skill, like Zadina just did with a spinning hammer. The focus seemed to just be about dishing out damage instead of going for the “killing strike.”

  Maybe it’s due to… I groped for the word in my mind. PVE nature of fighting here?

  As if on cue, an armored goblin stabbed at my chest. I side-stepped his thrust and sliced open his exposed inner thigh. Blood gushed out as I stepped past. In the past, that would have been the end for a footsoldier, but the goblin kept swinging.

  Vitals don't seem as vital in this world... Maybe just for monsters.

  My blade arced through his neck.

  But a severed head still did the trick. Though I suppose it could be due to the amount of damage my [Magic] adds to the sword now.

  We burst through the group at the archway and plowed into a vast chamber. And like the archway, the chamber itself also looked anachronistic. This place had the feel of a classical Greek temple with a soaring high ceiling and rows of stone columns, but like the outside, this place was also decrepit. Large gaps of darkness punctured the ceiling above and several columns were down in segments on the ground.

  In the center was the raised platform where that goblin druidess stood. Seeing her now in full color, I noticed that her robe was made of tanned leather. She had a claw tooth necklace that looked oddly familiar. In fact, from the beads, to the dress, to the crescent-headed staff, her entire outfit reeked of familiarity.

  There’s a reason I called her a druidess.

  She pointed her staff toward us and all the groups kneeling before her turned their heads. There must be more than a hundred goblins of various shapes and sizes here.

  “No way…” Justin gasped.

  An arrow shrouded in electric sparks arced through the air toward the druidess, but it glanced off an invisible shell at the last moment.

  Serina shook her head as she lowered her bow. “Some kind of protective ward around that platform.”

  I nodded, having seen that magic circle myself. “Yes, going to need to get up close.”

  One of the columns caught my eye. It was crumbling at the base, and the top was already sliding off the seam. More importantly it was leaning toward the platform.

  “Zadina! Gorian! Can either of you knock that down!”

  Gorian cut down another hob-goblin and squinted his beady eyes at the leaning column. He then sheathed his sword and cracked his knuckles, leaning his armored shoulder forward.

  “Thundering Charge!” he roared as his massive body lurched forward, hurling toward the column. He slammed into it. The entire thing vibrated, leaned further, and then toppled, slamming hard into the ground. Goblins and dust were thrown into the air as the ground shook beneath our feet.

  I jumped on top of the fallen column.

  “No! My Lady, it’s too dangerous!”

  “Too dangerous not to! Push on Zadina! Keep them busy!”

  [Force Shield]

  A translucent half-spherical shell appeared before me. My shadow sword swept away the spears and polearms in my way, clearing a path.

  Sometimes the most direct route is the indirect one. That was something the Bastard had taught me. I missed our verbal sparring sessions. He also had watched from afar when I was captured, but I couldn’t be mad at him for that. He had already warned me.

  “à la cour du roi, chacun est pour soi. Et le roi avant tous.” At the king's court, everyone is for himself. And the king before all.

  He had told me not to attack. He just didn’t know I had no choice.

  I sprinted over the spine of the column, knocking away the waves of metal points thrusting at me from both sides. As I looked from up-high down at the sea of sharp metal, a sense of nostalgia washed over me. I was once again riding at the head of my fidèles, D'Aulon, my second in command galloping alongside, Jean and Pollichon flanking us, and all my men, their weapons held high—the ghosts of them surging in my wake.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  We charge, thundering past the formations of bristling spears arrayed against us, looking for that break in their line.

  Ranks of crude spear and halberd heads greeted me as I leaped, bursting my [Force Shield]. I brought my sword down from overhead, carving a swath through them.

  Landing in their midst, shrieks, confused screams, panicked shouts erupted from the sea of goblins all around me. Axes, swords, and spiked clubs converged on me in a blur of steel, tearing up my jacket, my skin, and flesh. Blood sprayed as I twisted away, my blade, a whirlwind cutting up eyes, arms, legs and clanging jarringly against incoming blades.

  Stats were blinking again at the corner of my vision. Pain scintillated my body. I didn’t have any of my old equipment anymore, and I had neither the [Holy Vestment] condition nor my [Indomitable Aura] ability.

  Compared to my past self, I was basically defenseless, and yet, I was still just as reckless.

  This is the essence of me. Plus, I have new tricks…

  A notched blade whistled overhead. I rolled to my right, and popped up beside the wielder of the massive sword, another hob-goblin. My hand grabbed his unarmored elbow.

  [Drain Touch]

  The flow of magic converged to form a sphere of emptiness in my palm. That emptiness latched onto his very being, and his warmth came flooding through my arm, filling me up to my extremities with heat. The knobby features of the hob-goblin’s face contorted, and then his black eyes glazed over. His green skin turned a drab grey as his legs twitched before giving way beneath him.

  Points of light rose from his corpse.

  Over 200 [Magic] means my spells hit hard when they do hit.

  The pain receded. A tingling sensation crawled over my body and I saw my wounds closing. The sight of seams of open, bloody flesh sealing themselves back together was disconcerting. I now understood what had disturbed Kamuel so much when he healed me.

  It seemed to disturb the goblins as well, or maybe it was the fact that their much larger compatriot had instantly keeled over due to a mere touch, but they backed away from me.

  I swung my sword in a wide circle, catching a nose and some bloody fingers, and expanding the clearing around me. A loud racket rose in the distance. Screams and shouts drew everyone’s attention.

  It appeared my party members were making headway.

  I took advantage of the diversion and brought down the one AOE shadow spell that I had. The one I had just recently learned in the wild through my experiments hybridizing [Shadow Spread] with [Shadow Fingers].

  Black tendrils streamed up from the shadows on the ground and coalesced into a giant fist the size of a wagon in the air above.

  BAM!

  It slammed into the ground with a loud reverberating smack, flattening all the goblins, even the large ones beneath it. Tremors shot up my legs.

  For only twelve mana, due to the 30% mana reduction from [Shadow Mastery III], I had taken out a group of around twenty goblins. All of them were now sprawled out, groaning and writhing on the ground.

  There was now a clear path to the druidess.

  Again, I charged up [Hasted Steps].

  Whoosh!

  The air rushed to catch up as I appeared on the platform after two steps and a leap.

  The druidess spun to face me, the beads of her dreadlocks rattling. “Get her!” she squawked.

  But I was still speeding toward her. My sword came down at her, and she raised her staff to block. Surprisingly, my shadow blade clanged against the hard wood, and glanced off as I zoomed past her.

  My heels skidded into a full stop and I swung back at her. She blocked again, with both hands on her staff, the wood catching my blade.

  She’s a competent fighter.

  We pushed against each other. The large, black orbs of her eyes drilled into mine, and her acidic breath burned my nostrils. I eased on the pressure, letting her staff slide, the wood grinding up my blade into the guard. My left hand released, and snaked up under the staff, flat against her chest.

  I manually formed the [Shadow Spike] and propelled it right into her heart, blowing a hole through her. Hot blood gushed over my fingers. The staff clattered on the ground as the druidess sank into a heap on the platform.

  All around me the hob-goblins flickered and then blinked out of sight. The smaller goblins swiveled their heads, running aimlessly like chickens with their heads cut off. Clumps of high-pitched chatter and screams broke out as they fled the chamber, leaving piles of corpses behind them.

  Across the room, Zadina shook off a goblin body from her hammer. The Valiant Fist gathered themselves, looking relieved but in shock as they staggered toward the platform.

  Points of light floated up from the druidess.

  The Siphoning… message had been flashing continuously all this time. There were a lot of dead.

  Images from the battle flashed through my mind, and a rush of exhilaration struck me.

  I leveled up, as expected, but the stat increases were a lot more impressive than last time.

  The rings must certainly have helped with non-physical stats, but could the overall increase be because my attributes were higher? Perhaps they became linked when the game merged me into one.

  Something else caught my eyes. I stooped down over the fallen druidess and unclasped the necklace from her neck. It was a crude necklace made from the large canines strung together and a small bird skull in the middle. No lady would be caught dead wearing this, but I had seen this before, in a different life.

  It identified as:

  No, this isn’t right. I know what the necklace should do as both Steve and Joan.

  Perhaps it’s just a display thing?

  The others were closing in, and I closed my fingers around the necklace.

  I should test this later.

  Justin whistled as he looked down at the path of strewn corpses from the fallen column to the platform. “You sure did work, Liege.”

  Zadina glared at him before rushing up the platform, her eyes zeroing in on my ripped and torn leather jacket. “My Lady, are you alright?”

  There was a lot of skin exposed, which made me blush.

  [Virtuous] at it again.

  “Yes, I have a spare.”

  Mama wouldn’t let me leave without several, actually. She saw this coming.

  “That’s not what I’m worried about. But you seem fine…” Her eyebrows were knotted together.

  I guess seeing slashed up armor with perfectly smooth skin underneath would confuse just about anyone.

  Serina and the others were going through corpses, picking up items from them—the mundane part of being an adventurer. It reminded me of the goujats—the camp hangers-on—who'd pick at corpses after the battle.

  We had to chase off the ones who came after our own.

  Zadina looked down at the druidess. “You knew that killing this thing would end it? How?”

  I shrugged. “A hunch.”

  Hopping off the platform, I went to help the others.

  In The Hundred Years War, there was a unit called the Celtic Druidess. She was a random encounter that could pop up whenever you went through a heavily forested area. She wasn’t that strong, but she was shielded versus ranged weapons, and she had one rather annoying ability. She could summon woodland creatures to help her fight, from bears, to elks, to treants and even wood golems.

  Sometimes her ability would bug out and she could summon infinite creatures. I, as Steve, had made the mistake of dragging out one fight with her and she proceeded to summon enough creatures to fill the screen, ending one run right then and there.

  I glanced back to the platform where Zadina was still examining the druidess corpse. She picked up the staff, looking up and down the length of it, and then over its crescent head before putting it away into a bag.

  The Celtic Druidess wasn’t a goblin in the other game, just an old lady of the woods. But she wore the same tanned leather dress, and had the same beaded dreadlocks. Her staff wasn’t anything worth mentioning, but the necklace would tide me over until I got the [Tiara of Solace].

  The previous game only had one accessory slot. I could wear as many as I’d like as Joan, but I could sense that only one was taking effect.

  Why do I know the Celtic Druidess so well?

  As Steve, it had been an annoying, and frustrating experience. But as Joan, it was one of the most painful ends to any of my lifetimes. After my men died, waves of creatures poured over me, halflings with spears, elks with antlers, treants with sharp branches, stabbing at me from all over, over and over again.

  It’d last until I ran out of spirit points and could no longer put up my aura, then the tide would crash down upon me, and pin-cushion me until I bled out under their weight.