Okata's eyes blazed with determination as he activated Savage Surge, a surge of unrestrained power coursing through his veins. He propelled himself toward John, his entire body enveloped in an incandescent, reinforcing fire that radiated an intimidating aura.
With a swift and forceful motion, Okata unleashed a barrage of powerful slashes using his formidable great sword. Each strike was executed with precision, cutting through the air like a lethal dance of blades, creating a whirlwind of intensity.
The thick smoke, once a protective shroud around them, began to dissipate with every swipe of Okata's relentless assault. Amidst the dissipating fog, John found himself gradually revealed, his defenses diminishing.
Reacting swiftly, John dodged the relentless attacks by repeatedly leaping away with acrobatic finesse. However, Okata's laughter echoed through the battlefield, a manifestation of his confidence as he continued his assault.
"What can you do without the smoke protecting you?" Okata taunted, his voice resonating with a blend of triumph and challenge. "Savage Surge!"
Once again, Okata activated Savage Surge, closing the distance between them in a matter of moments. With unwavering determination, he slashed his sword towards John, who, in a desperate attempt, managed to evade the direct hit by leaping away.
As the smoke enveloped John once more, shielding him from Okata's relentless strikes, he touched his shoulder, discovering a small yet significant wound.
The battle unfolded with a palpable intensity, a clash between two formidable adversaries locked in a fierce struggle for supremacy.
"I can smell your blood," Okata declared ominously as his once brown eyes transformed into a menacing shade of red. A predatory aura enveloped him.
With a predatory grace, Okata's passive skill, Bloodlust, surged to life. This unique ability allowed him to pinpoint the precise location of his adversaries as soon as he caught a whiff of their blood. However, the skill had its limitations, covering only a confined area.
"Your little smoke trick is useless now!" Okata bellowed with unbridled confidence, closing the distance between him and John.
John, undeterred, emitted a derisive scoff. "You are gullible."
In response, John harnessed the power of Thundestrike. A surge of energy coursed through his veins as he advanced toward Okata, his sword enveloped in crackling blue electricity, ready to unleash its destructive potential.
The clash between the two formidable foes was imminent. John's movement was swift, a blur of calculated aggression. Okata, caught off guard by the sudden surge of power, found himself in a precarious position, unable to react in time to the impending threat.
With a swift and precise motion, John ruthlessly slashed through Okata's massive arm. A resounding roar echoed as a brilliant blue thunderbolt struck Okata, emanating from the formidable blade wielded by John.
The electrifying surge coursed through Okata's entire body, causing him to scream in agonizing pain. Every inch of his formidable frame was enveloped in the pulsating glow of the thunderous energy. As Okata's severed arm soared through the air, a stark testament to the sheer force behind John's strike, the battlefield crackled with electric intensity.
Stunned and momentarily incapacitated, Okata struggled to comprehend the ferocity of the attack. The relentless onslaught orchestrated by John had left Okata in a state of shock, his normally indomitable demeanor momentarily shattered by the overwhelming power unleashed upon him.
Okata, shaken but resolute, swiftly recovered from the shock and fervently wielded his great sword with determined prowess. John, displaying an air of nonchalance, effortlessly leaped aside, narrowly avoiding the sweeping blade.
In a surge of power, Okata's Unique Skill surged forth, his physique fortified by the potent essence of thunder. A palpable aura of electrifying strength emanated from him, showcasing the formidable nature of his abilities.
"Does that imply that should I unleash another attack infused with the same elemental force, you shall not succumb but instead find rejuvenation?" John inquired with casual intrigue, a trace of curiosity coloring his words.
Undeterred, Okata conjured a Dimensional Storage, delving into its depths in a desperate attempt to retrieve a healing potion. The urgency in his actions betrayed the gravity of the situation, a battle of wits and strength unfolding.
"Damn you, human," Okata spat with disdain, his frustration evident. "You persist in concealing a skill that eludes my scrutiny," he accused, the tension between the combatants escalating with each passing moment.
"Never expose all your cards to your opponent," John warned, directing a fierce gaze at Okata. With deliberate intent, he declared, "Inferno Burst."
A colossal sphere of searing flames hurtled toward Okata with relentless intensity.
Frantically searching within his Dimensional Storage, Okata failed to retrieve a potion in time.
The blazing projectile mercilessly clashed with Okata, engulfing him in a fiery onslaught.
Okata's flesh smoldered, singed by the searing flames that engulfed him. Crisp and charred, some of his body parts bore the scars of the scorching ordeal.
A gut-wrenching scream echoed through the air as Okata writhed in agony, the intense pain coursing through every fiber of his being.
John, with a calculated understanding, witnessed Okata's body undergo a transformation, adapting to the inferno's wrath. The flames that once seemed to consume him now danced around him like a protective armor, a metamorphosis in the face of destruction.
Undeterred, John unleashed Thunderstrike, a formidable force crackling with electrifying power. With determination etched on his face, he surged forward, closing the gap between him and the now fire-infused Okata.
Despite the excruciating pain, Okata defiantly attempted to wield his great sword with a single hand, a testament to his unwavering resolve. Each swing carried the weight of suffering, yet Okata pressed on, his eyes ablaze with a fierce determination to stand his ground.
"I am going to kill you!" Okata's voice, though strained, resonated with a chilling determination, a proclamation that hung in the air amidst the chaos of fire and thunder.
John executed a swift and precise strike, severing Okata's final arm. The thunderous energy emanating from John's sword erupted in a dazzling display, filling the air with crackling intensity.
Okata's anguished scream echoed, his body convulsing as the electric currents surged through him. He shivered uncontrollably, the torment of the electrocution writ large on his face.
Collapsing to the ground, Okata knelt in defeat, the absence of his severed limb evident. John loomed over him, wielding his sword with an unwavering grip, a symbol of triumph and dominance.
Gasping for breath, Okata struggled to contain the flow of blood from his mutilated arm. The remainder of his body bore the scars of intense burns, devoid of blood as if seared by the lightning itself.
Locking eyes with John, Okata spoke through gritted teeth, "It seems you could end me effortlessly, yet you refrained." His face contorted with rage. "Why? Does the perverse pleasure of tormenting others fuel your actions?"
"No, I derive no satisfaction from tormenting you," John declared, lifting his sword menacingly. "Your survival hinges on my quest to find a shred of emotion within myself. Yet, I remain empty, devoid of any feeling."
Okata chuckled ominously, acknowledging the profound truth. "Your presence in this cruel game is no mere accident. It is designed for souls like yours," he jeered, spitting disdainfully at John. "This wretched game thrives on the desolation within people like you."
John, surprisingly vulnerable, confessed, "That revelation stirred something within me."
"Why hesitate? Bring an end to this," Okata goaded, closing his eyes in anticipation.
Unfazed, John approached Okata with unwavering determination.
In one swift, merciless motion, John executed Okata with a decisive slash to the neck.
Okata's severed head thudded onto the ground, followed by the lifeless collapse of his body, concluding the brutal chapter of their deadly confrontation.
"Congratulations on eliminating a player."
"You have received rewards: two Ascension Orbs, one Skill Draw, one Equipment Draw, and one Character Draw."
"And, as a result of defeating the player, you have acquired the following skills."
"Slam (Common): Slam your weapon into the target."
"Defensive Stance (Common): Assume a defensive stance to lessen the damage from incoming attacks."
"Bloodlust (Common): Detect the location of the wounded enemy. Small area coverage."
"Dimensional Storage (Common): Small pocket storage."
"Savage Surge (Uncommon): Unleash a relentless onslaught of strikes, creating a powerful shockwave with each hit. The shockwaves gain intensity, causing additional damage to enemies in the user's path."
John sheathed his sword with a triumphant flourish, securing it resolutely on his hip. The lingering tendrils of smoke, testament to the relentless battle, dissipated as John surveyed the aftermath of the conflict. His discerning eyes scanned the scene, meticulously noting the vanishing traces of destruction.
In a decisive motion, John removed his mask, unveiling a countenance etched with the intensity of the fight. As he exhaled deliberately, the weight of the encounter lifted, leaving behind a palpable sense of both accomplishment and fatigue.
Approaching him with a mix of reverence and concern, Kageko acknowledged his triumph. "My lord," she began, her voice resonating with profound respect. "You vanquished him."
A nonchalant smile played on John's lips as he recounted the strategic move that secured his victory. "He hoarded a cache filled with potions. Fortunately, I managed to sever his arms, thwarting his attempt to employ them," he explained, his tone underscoring the gravity of the situation. "Otherwise, it would have escalated into an exceedingly formidable battle."
Kageko, visibly relieved, candidly expressed her worry, her eyes reflecting genuine concern. "I was on edge for a moment. I fretted about your well-being," she admitted, the vulnerability palpable in her voice.
"I will always emerge victorious," John reassured, his smile unwavering.
As John ventured deeper into the dismal base, the shadows seemed to cling to the walls, mirroring the bleakness of the characters he encountered.
A frail warrior shuffled into view, an orc with a scrawny build that belied any semblance of strength. His tusks, mere stumps, hinted at a life marked by hardship rather than triumph, and his sunken eyes spoke of battles lost and dreams shattered.
[Migul (Common).
Race: Orc.
Class: Warrior.
Subclass: None.
Skills. Slash.
Equipment: None]
Following closely was a mage, a diminutive orc whose feeble appearance contradicted the typical image of arcane mastery. Despite possessing smaller tusks, he radiated an unexpected aura of mystical prowess, a subtle suggestion of latent power hidden beneath his fragile exterior.
[Hagan (Common).
Race: Orc.
Class: Mage.
Subclass: None.
Skills. Fireball.
Equipment: Staff]
John's gaze then shifted to the third figure—a woman elf. Disheveled, she stood with once-blonde hair now dulled and matted. Pallid skin and vacant eyes revealed the toll of a harsh existence. Clutching a crudely crafted wooden bow and arrows, the elf's appearance mirrored the ugliness of their base, a reflection of a life marked by deprivation.
[Sylvia (Common).
Race: Elf.
Class: Archer.
Subclass: None.
Skills. Arrow Shot.
Equipment: None]
In this bleak assembly, the characters stood not as formidable allies but as a motley crew of misfits united by circumstances that seemed to echo the desolation of their surroundings.
Equipment not crafted by a blacksmith or pulled by a player will not be displayed on the Character's sheet.
The three newly appointed subordinates knelt in unison before John, a gesture of submission and loyalty. "My lord," their voices echoed in unison, resonating with a profound respect.
John's scrutinizing gaze swept the surroundings, seeking the presence of another subordinate. "Where is the other one?" he inquired, expecting a complete assembly.
"Follow me, my lord," Migul, one of the subordinates, responded dutifully. He rose from his kneeling position and led the way towards a concealed cave hidden behind the base, a mysterious portal to an undisclosed realm.
Venturing into the depths of the dark cavern, they traversed its winding passages for a tense minute until finally emerging into an unexpected chamber. The room, though small and shabby, housed an intriguing alchemy setup—a testament to clandestine pursuits.
A modest wooden table occupied the center, adorned with remnants of experimentation: a flickering torch casting eerie shadows, and a few empty glass containers hinting at alchemical concoctions long since consumed. John's keen attention shifted to the figure standing within the room, awaiting his inspection.
Before him stood an orc with dark brown skin, a formidable presence exuding strength and loyalty. As their eyes met, the orc immediately knelt in deference. "My lord," the orc uttered, acknowledging John's authority with a deep and resonant tone, sealing the bond of fealty between master and subordinate.
[Al (Uncommon).
Race: Orc.
Class: Alchemist.
Subclass: Glass Alchemist.
Skills. Alchemy, Crystal Forge.
Equipment: None.]
"Crystal Forge - The Glass Alchemist can swiftly shape and solidify ambient mana into intricate glass constructs, from protective barriers to sharp-edged weapons, adding versatility to their arsenal in the heat of battle."
John nodded approvingly, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. "Impressive," he remarked, extending his arms towards Al in a welcoming gesture. "I am John Smith, your new master. Welcome to my team."
Al, displaying a humble demeanor, gently clasped John's outstretched hand. "It is with the utmost honor that I pledge my service to you, my lord," he expressed sincerely.
Al rose from his towering stance, a formidable figure compared to the more diminutive John. His immense frame boasted long, razor-sharp tusks, adding an extra layer of intimidation to his already formidable presence.
In stark contrast to the imposing exterior, Al's eyes betrayed a surprising depth of respect reserved solely for John.
With authority, John declared, "Now, let's return home; our mission is accomplished." His tone resonated with a confidence that mirrored his actions.
John meticulously plundered every piece of Okata's coveted Gacha Equipment, leaving nothing behind. The spoils of their triumph secured, they stood in Okata's now desolate base.
Without a glance backward, the group made their exit, leaving behind a conquered domain and embarking on the journey homeward, a path paved with the echoes of their triumphant conquest.
As John journeyed back, he engaged in profound conversations with his newfound companions. Unlike their time under the previous leader, when they functioned as mere automatons, now they exuded vitality.
Since John enlisted them, they underwent a metamorphosis, coming to life with palpable authenticity. John's indomitable will infused them with purpose and animation, transforming them from soulless beings into vibrant individuals.
"Don't fret, Sylvia; upon our return, I'll ask Mark to construct a formidable archer tower for you," John reassured, a hearty chuckle escaping his lips.
Sylvia gracefully swept strands of her golden hair behind her pointed ears and expressed her gratitude, saying, "I extend my heartfelt thanks for your benevolence, my lord."
John exhaled leisurely, a triumphant smile gracing his lips. "There's a multitude of us now; our base will pulsate with newfound vitality."
Yet, the joy that had illuminated John's eyes dimmed, extinguished by an ominous sight on the horizon—a billowing cloak of black smoke, an eerie dance choreographed by the wind.
Echoes of unknown creatures reverberated in the air, their roars resonating from the distance, casting an unsettling shadow over the once jubilant scene.
"My lord," Kageko solemnly intoned, "that's the foreboding path converging upon our stronghold."
"Kageko," John responded, a steely resolve settling over him as she adorned her mask.
"I understand," Kageko acknowledged, vanishing into invisibility as she swiftly darted away, racing towards the impending threat.
As John stealthily melded into the shadows, he hastened towards the clandestine location of their base, his every step infused with urgency and determination. The dense forest enveloped him as he maneuvered through the trees, deftly overcoming every obstacle in his path, a testament to his agile prowess.
In his wake, a loyal cadre of subordinates trailed, mirroring his every move with unwavering allegiance. Their synchronized pursuit underscored the gravity of the situation, as they followed their leader with unspoken understanding and commitment.
Amidst the canopy of leaves, a foreboding notion began to eclipse John's thoughts, casting a shadow over his usually resolute mind. A chilling realization took root—the unsettling idea that something grievous had transpired within the confines of their base, where allies were stationed.
Fueled by concern and a sense of responsibility, John's pace quickened, each stride echoing a silent plea for the safety of those he held dear. The whispers of doubt lingered in his mind, amplifying the gravity of the impending revelation.
As he approached the outskirts of the concealed base, a palpable tension gripped him, manifested in his hushed entreaty: "Please don't." The words, laden with a mix of fear and desperate hope, escaped his lips as a fervent wish to avert the impending catastrophe that hung ominously in the air.
In a matter of seconds, John's gaze penetrated the obscurity, revealing the formidable outer defenses of their base.
Emerging from the shadows, he encountered Kageko, a determined figure brandishing a dagger stained with the vivid hue of green blood.
Beside her lay a humanoid creature, its body and countenance resembling that of a lizard.
"Lizardfolk," Kageko declared, her voice unwavering. "They are already in retreat, my lord."
John directed his attention toward the forest, where the calculated silhouettes of retreating adversaries hinted at a strategic withdrawal rather than a display of chaos and desperation.
John's attention was unmistakably seized by a riveting sight—an embodiment of familiarity, a fellow human. This wasn't just any human; it was a striking figure with lustrous blonde hair, armed with a bow, exuding an air of prowess and intent.
[Player (2)]
As the scene unfolded, this resolute human leaned nonchalantly against a sturdy tree, assuming the role of a vigilant guardian while his compatriots hastily made their escape. The gravity of the encounter wasn't lost on John; the presence of another human in this enthralling tableau held a significance that reverberated through the silent exchange.
Locked in a gaze, John and the bow-wielding warrior shared a moment pregnant with unspoken understanding. A smirk adorned the human's face, a subtle acknowledgment of a connection forged in the crucible of circumstance.
However, as quickly as the silent communion began, it concluded. The enigmatic archer, now revealed to be not just a player but a fellow member of the human race, diverted his gaze and seamlessly melded into the shadows, rejoining his fleeing comrades.
"Shall we pursue him, my lord?" Kageko inquired, referring to the escaping enemy.
"Not at this moment. We remain uncertain of his skills and the size of his personnel," John asserted. "Our priority is to assess the condition of our allies."
John proceeded into the fortress walls, trailed by his subordinates. Some of the wooden structures lay in ruins, consumed by flames.
Unfazed by the burning buildings, John scanned the area for his comrades.
"My Lord," Bano emerged from the smoke, supporting Abobo on his shoulder. Both bore visible wounds.
"You two are injured," John observed.
"Have no concern for us, my lord. These are mere scratches," Abobo reassured, though his expression betrayed a sense of distress. "But Mark is in peril."
John's eyes blazed with an intense rage as he surveyed the surroundings, determination etched on his face. He relentlessly searched, his gaze piercing through the chaos until he finally laid eyes on his target.
There, on the ground, sat Mark, a grim tableau of agony. An ominous arrow protruded from his shoulder, a brutal testament to the confrontation that had unfolded. A violet root insidiously crept from the wound, a grotesque symbol of the unnatural suffering Mark endured.
Beside him knelt Sharon, her distress palpable. "What should I do? I don't know what to do!" she exclaimed, panic tightening her voice.
"Calm down, Sharon," Mark responded, his demeanor remarkably composed despite the dire circumstances.
"Mark," John uttered, his voice resonating with authority.
With purpose, John crouched before Mark, scrutinizing the arrow lodged in his shoulder.
A silent exchange unfolded, and Mark gazed at John with profound respect. "My lord, forgive me. I failed to meet your expectations," he confessed.
"Uncommon Poison," the system voice declared, its ominous tone reverberating in the air.
A chill descended as the system issued a dire warning: "Fatal."
•••••
Player#42069
NAME: John Smith
PLAYERS ELIMINATED: 2
ASCENSION ORBS: 2
HP: 260
MP: 260
•••
[STATS]
VITALITY: 26
STRENGTH: 26
INTELLIGENCE: 26
AGILITY: 26
DEXTERITY: 26
AVAILABLE STAT POINTS: 0
•••
[SKILLS]
PLAYER EXCLUSIVE SKILL: Gacha Fusion.
COMMON: Healing Touch, Slam, Defensive Stance, Bloodlust, Dimensional Storage.
UNCOMMON: Thunderstrike, Inferno Burst, Nebula Mirage, Savage Surge.
•••••