Rivyn had lost count of how many times he had died-days, weeks, perhaps more. The constant fight, die, revive cycle was beginning to wear his mind and body down. He did not know how much time had passed since he had been here, but it seemed endless. He had tried everything-fight to the last, let the goblins kill him to see whether the endurance of pain was a key. Nothing worked. He felt that this place was testing his endurance of suffering, and at least so far, there had not been any reward for all that pain one had endured and all the tearing apart one had let oneself be subjected to, nothing changed.
His mind spiralled downwards. What was the use of it all? Why was he being kept here? It had been a death cycle that had deadened him to the pain, yet sapped his spirit. He had simply allowed the goblins to kill him for a while, thinking maybe the system was measuring something other than his physical strength. He would do whatever; it is not changing: the goblins come on and on, he keeps dying.
His hands were trembling, and his body was really weak from the system bringing it back repeatedly.
Then illumination struck him. He pulled up his status screen once again, hoping that something would leap from it that would be helpful: Ashwald's Body Enhancement. For a reason, he had learned the technique, and not for just gathering strength outside the Tower. Maybe training in the middle of these fights will let me use the enhancement to push myself further. For the final few kills, Rivyn had ceased attempting to strike the goblins down and instead simply dodged their blows as he worked on Ashwald's Body Enhancement. It was an exercise of torture, really, as it placed a huge amount of stress on his muscles and body, contorting him in odd stances, holding tension everywhere. Initially, it was impossible to dodge and practice the exercise at the same time.
These would be endless goblin attacks; the strain of the technique made him sluggish, and he just could not parry in time. The movements of Ashwald's Body Enhancement were brutal, and integrating them into battles was a challenge he had never prepared for.
But after all those deaths and tries, a person learned: it was becoming more agile, learning how to get out of the reach of goblins while changing in different, complicated stances; with every revival, he knew that he really would be able to pick up right where he had left off, given his improvement wasn't lost upon death. His theory so far had been wrong: death didn't reset the effort he invested-stronger, he was, and he had the numbers for proof.
[Rivyn - None]
[Level - 0 (Level is only available when you reach F-rank)]
[Strength - 23]
[Agility - 20]
[Defense - 18]
[Mana - 5]
[Unallocated Stats - 0]
Rivyn grinned as he saw his stats improve. This is working. I'm getting stronger. It had taken him a while to figure it out, but his persistence was finally paying off. He hadn't wasted the week here. He was sure of it now—he had spent at least a week inside this hellish void, battling goblins and practicing his body enhancement. He nodded to himself, checking the time against the internal clock in his head. A week of nothing but train and die.
But what was waiting for him out there? He had nothing to return to: Velira, his shop-all these things seemed now to be from so far away, a memory of another life. He had no family. Who was looking for him? And who'd care?
The more he thought about it, the more he was aware that this place probably afforded him the only chance he was ever going to get to get as strong as possible for what came after. Strong enough never to be in this situation again.
No sooner had his mind wandered than a goblin appeared in front of him, the ugly green face contorted in anger as it charged at him, blade jagged and out. Rivyn didn't bat an eye.
It had gotten to the point where its appearance became well-known, like something one could expect to see out of the corner of one's eye any day now. Without counterattacking, he went into stance to recommence the training for Ashwald's Body Enhancement. Smooth motions, each one calculated with the intent of avoiding the goblin's wild slashes-his training had gone well enough that he could avoid their attack without stopping his training.
Not mindless, though-the goblins weren't. What would be far too correct to say was that their attacks were now predictable altogether. For every encounter, they learned his dodging; for every change in dodging, some slight change in their attack. But Rivyn learned as well and adapted their movement, adjusted his stance, focused on keeping his technique perfect as goblins lunged at him.
Hours passed in dodges and weaves, shifts of stance. His body screamed at him in protest, yet he could feel the good he was doing it-muscles starting to firm, harden; movements growing more economical, more powerful with every passing moment.
[Rivyn - F-rank]
[Level - 1]
[Strength - 25]
[Agility - 22]
[Defense - 20]
[Mana - 15]
[Unallocated Stats - 3]
Rivyn's eyes went wide as he checked his status: F-rank. He finally reached it. After all those deaths, all frustration, and all the pain, he finally did. Curiosity soon yielded to joy, and finally, the word "None" beside his rank was replaced by F-rank. A wide grin stretched across his face, pride he hadn't felt in a very long time welling up inside of him.
It was then that the goblin that chased him earlier made his move and charged again.
His sword rivyn had raised, and a faint smile spread on his face. He dodged the goblin's blow with one fluid motion, and then took its head. Indeed, the body had disintegrated even before the goblin fell to the ground.
I'm stronger now.
He looked at his status again, which did not show an increase in his level. Ah, I guess I have to kill a few more.
Within a moment, two others came into view. Rivyn immediately charged upon them without wasting another second this time in his fluid, calculating movements. Rivyn surely showed his experience with goblins, knowing exactly where to strike; he knew the patterns, the weaknesses-he knew it all, and soon enough, their heads were separated from their bodies, disappearing into the void.
[Rivyn - F-rank]
[Level - 1]
[Strength - 25]
[Agility - 22]
[Defense - 20]
[Mana - 15]
[Unallocated Stats - 3]
Rivyn checked his status again; his heart was pounding in his chest. His level was higher; every stat was up by one, including his mana. He now had six unallocated stat points.
What the adventurers said about stat points he remembered-that points were distributed according to personal need-but he wasn't quite so sure of yet, so he decided to balance things up for now. He added two points to strength and two to agility, two to defense. The results were immediate: he felt stronger, quicker, more resistant.
[Rivyn - F-rank]
[Level - 2]
[Strength - 26]
[Agility - 23]
[Defense - 21]
[Mana - 16]
[Unallocated Stats - 6]
Rivyn's fist was clenched at his side, the power surged through his veins. He glanced around, waiting for the next wave of goblins. This time, ten spawned, yet Rivyn wasn't afraid. It wasn't hard anymore, like it had been. He moved faster, stronger, so much more confident. It helped little when the goblins tried to rush him in bunches; he kept them at arm's length and picked them off one by one. After a few minutes elapsed, he took out the whole bunch without a scratch. He had grown beyond Rivyn-who only a few days ago had barely survived. Now he felt more confident; this he could handle. Then he thought of the real challenge that had always been his limit-the group of twenty goblins. That was where he always failed.
No matter how hard he struggled, he had never once passed the eleventh goblin before being overwhelmed. But this time it was different. Twenty goblins materialized around him some minutes later. Rivyn did not wait for them to make up their minds; he charged right away, striking only at those he knew with a single blow would fall. In flashing strokes of his blade through the air, he cut down three goblins before the rest could even react.
The rest of the goblins reorganized and rushed as a mass against him. But Rivyn would not be daunted. He danced out of reach, darting in to strike at whatever goblin was in the lead before retreating again in time to avoid the others. Thus he cut them down piecemeal. It was an art of being patient and of technique, but it paid off. With every blow, one of the goblins in front would fall, and Rivyn was back before the rest could hold onto him. He was faster now, stronger. Minutes ticked by, and the number of goblins continued to dwindle. Ten. Seven. Four. Until finally, after what seemed like hours, the last goblin fell.