AnnouncementThis chapter has been significantly rewritten, so if you read it prior to November 12, 2025 then I would suggest reading it again as only about a third or so of this chapter remains as it was before.Twigs snap underfoot as Krvavy makes her way through the woods, ducking under the occasional branch and doing her best to ensure that the carcass slung over her left shoulder doesn’t get caught on anything.

  Surprisingly, this deer isn’t anywhere near as heavy as she expected it to be. Granted, it has been hollowed out, but still. It is a pretty big animal. Not massive, but decently sized.

  Honestly, this really makes her question how the stats, or attributes, work. After all, Krvavy has almost doubled her Might since she started, but she doesn’t feel twice as strong. Thea’s low stats do help to give her a bit of perspective, but she still has no idea how much a single point represents... If she had to guess, she’d say that it isn’t even linear. Diminishing returns and all that. At least proportionally speaking. Which would only make it more complicated... So –?

  Booooom!

  A few small birds scatter and hastily fly away in the same moment that Krvavy is torn from her thoughts. The trees shake slightly as a loud bang rings out from... somewhere retively nearby. That sound is definitely not a normal thing for forests.

  So obviously Krvavy should go check it out.

  Much like the smoke from that bandit camp, this is clearly a setup for some sort of encounter. And diving headfirst into the previous two encounters has worked out well enough for her so far. Sure, she got pretty close to dying both times... and ended up abducting a couple women... but...

  It’ll be interesting and she can’t just ignore this obviously telegraphed event.

  Softly shaking her head, Krvavy focuses on trying to find the source of that explosion. Which is actually pretty easy. A few more explosive booms echo through the forest, making it fairly easy to figure out just what direction they’re coming from. And it only gets easier from there.

  Pilrs of smoke are climbing up into the sky, just barely visible through gaps in the canopy above.

  An unnatural silence fills the forest, disturbed only by those explosions. Most of which aren’t nearly as loud as the first. A thin haze filters through the trees, growing thicker and smokier as Krvavy heads in what is clearly the right direction.

  The temperature rises more and more. The pleasantly cool breeze falters, shifting into a dry heat that rolls through these woods in waves. The shade becomes stifling.

  Soon enough Krvavy comes upon a small clearing. Though calling it a clearing is a bit generous. Or mean spirited? Judging by the charred and smoking trees, most of which have been reduced to little more than stumps, this wasn’t a clearing until very recently. Of course, that isn’t what truly catches her attention.

  Two silhouetted figures are fighting in what looks to be roughly the center of this burnt out area.

  Krvavy quickly crouches down, gently putting her deer on the slightly singed ground as she tries to peer through the smoke and see what is going on.

  One of the figures is pretty easy to pick out, on account of the fming sword in one of its hands and the small fireballs being flung from the other. Guess that would be why this part of the forest is burning...

  The other figure is a lot harder to see, as it doesn’t have magical fire lighting it up through the smoke. But Krvavy can pick out its vague silhouette here and there, courtesy of all the fshing fmes, and she is pretty sure that they are using a... bow? Interesting choice of weapon considering how close the two figures are to each other, but it kind of seems to be working... Probably due to how agile this figure is. They are almost dancing around the first.

  This is clearly a very dangerous situation, so it might be best for Krvavy to just ignore it and leave...

  But...

  There is also a chance that Krvavy could to get something good out of it.

  This fight seems like it’ll be rather draining for those involved – either due to wasting who knows how much mana on all those missed fireballs or simply due to good old smoke inhation – so Krvavy may have a bit of an advantage against whichever worn out figure wins. They almost certainly out level her by quite a bit though, so would that even be enough...?

  Thinking about it... yeah, probably.

  This game goes pretty heavy on the damage. A good swing of her axe straight to the head should be enough to take either of them out. After all, these two figures are quite obviously a spellcaster of some sort and an agile archer. Not the tankiest of builds. So they should be rather squishy, with an unremarkable amount of health and resistances.

  It’ll be risky, but... this isn’t just pin suicide. She does have a chance here. If she can take just one out... the experience she’d gain...

  And so, instead of turning and leaving like any sane person would, Krvavy convinces herself to take the rather risky option of not just sticking around but getting closer.

  Slowly sneaking and creeping around the edge of this charred clearing, using the smoking and singed trees as cover while ignoring the burning heat as best she can, Krvavy slowly makes her way towards the fighting figures. She doesn’t get too close though, stopping as soon as she is able to make out their voices over the occasional boom and the constantly crackling fires.

  “Had enough, little elf?” A deep and cruel voice calls out from the figure with the fming sword. The accent sounds fairly simir to Thea’s, just a lot more gruff. It is clearly a man, and probably on the older side too. Well, older compared to that girl. He sounds a bit like a smoker, funnily enough.

  “Ah’ll die before Ah let ya defile me!” The bow-wielding figure defiantly returns, speaking in a heavily accented voice. One that is quite feminine. But... Krvavy honestly can’t pce the accent. Part of her wants to say that it sounds a bit like Scottish or Irish, but that doesn’t quite feel right... Maybe Welsh? Or some amalgamation of them all?

  “Oh, little elf, what a waste that would be!” The cruel voice mocks. “Your body is something that should be shared! For a couple coins, of course!”

  Thorny vines burst from the ground beneath the bow-wielding Elf’s feet as she suddenly jumps backwards. In an instant those prickly tendrils have twisted and spread around the man with the fming sword, thrusting at him from the front and the sides.

  “Ahaha! Little elf, you just don’t learn!” He callously ughs, swinging the fming sword and burning those vines into nothing but ash before they can even get near him. “Need I burn more of this forest down? I know that makes it harder for you to fight!”

  “Ach, false confidence! Spout what ya wish, blight, Ah ‘ave an ah’row wit’ yer name on it!” The Elf spits back, deftly dodging a fireball that bursts against a charred tree with a rattling boom.

  “There is nothing false about it! I did my research! You’re not as subtle as you think, Miss Woodswalker!” The cruel figure’s fming sword grows brighter and hotter as his tone drops down, filling with venom and cold hatred. “Did you really think that you could kill my best earners and get away with it?”

  The Elf doesn’t deign that with a response, simply jumping to the side while loosing a few arrows in that same smooth motion.

  Krvavy isn’t sure which one them is going to win. Most of their attacks seem to either miss or get negated. It’ll likely be whoever runs out of Mana or arrows first, though she has no idea how long that will take...

  If she were to leave, then now would be a good time to do that. Because the longer she stays the more risk she faces. There are a lot of stray fireballs exploding around the clearing, after all. Though those explosions are fairly small...

  Boooooom!

  Krvavy winces as a felled tree that had already been reduced to little more than charcoal is struck again, sending searing hot splinters flying through the air.

  Okay... most of those explosions are fairly small.

  “Getting tired yet, little elf?!” The callous mage shouts, sending a burning arc through the air with a swing of his fming sword. “You can’t keep this up forever!”

  The barbarian grits her teeth, fingers tightening around her bone-handled axe. Her emerald eyes pierce through the smoky haze, intently watching both these figures’ every move.

  “Neither can ya!” The archer returns, loosing another arrow. Just one this time. She must be running low...

  “Hahaha!” Cruel, mocking ughter rings out as that arrow misses by a very rge margin, flying so far to the side that this sadistic man doesn’t even bother burning it to ash.

  Which turns out to be a mistake on his part.

  “You are getting tire–dhhh!” The cruel man’s mocking words are cut off by a hiss of pain as that errant arrow buries itself into his thigh, having curved unnaturally through the smoky air. As if guided by an unseen hand. “Hrrrhn!”

  The ashen ground around his feet swirls and sparks. A ring of fire forms and, in an instant, bursts up around him, spreading outwards to burn away the vines and arrows that aimed to add to his injuries.

  Krvavy’s heart pounds in her ears, adrenaline flowing through her veins. She darts from her scorched cover, ducking behind the trunk of a much thicker and far sturdier tree. Despite the obvious danger... she can’t quite bring herself to leave.

  The potential reward outweighs the risks. Mostly because the risk isn’t actually that high.

  This isn’t real life. It is just a game. And one with a respawn mechanic built into it. Sure, Krvavy would lose her freshly caught deer, her loincloth, and her axe if she were to die here. Which isn’t ideal. But it wouldn’t be that bad either. More of an inconvenience than anything. The only one of those that’d be difficult to repce is her axe. And she already has the Orc war-hammer as a backup. So...

  Even though it might be a bit reckless, Krvavy decides to stick around a little longer. At least until the end of this fight. It may also be a little crazy, but... at least she is staying in character. Because this is what her strong and fearless and incredibly combat focused barbarian would do. Probably. Maybe...

  “DAMN YOU!” The voice of the furious fire mage echoes through the scorched forest. The pilr of fmes surrounding him briefly grows brighter before bursting in all directions.

  A wave of intense heat washes over Krvavy, even as she steps fully behind the rge tree serving as her cover. The leaves above her head crackle and grow crispy. Some crumble apart into white ash that falls upon her crimson hair like hot snowfkes.

  Booooom!

  The barbarian gnces back towards the fight just in time to see half a dozen fist-sized orbs of pure fme fly towards the bow-wielding Elf, curving and weaving through the smoky air.

  Boom, boom!

  Vines intercept the first, and the second is blocked as a charred tree is encouraged to fall in its path. But the other four continue after the apparently quite athletic archer.

  The Elf throws herself to the side, dodging the third as her dive shifts into roll that sees the fourth miss as well. Almost faster than the eye can follow, she springs up into the air, narrowly avoiding the fifth fming fist-sized orb, and twists her torso out of the way of the sixth.

  Boom boom boom boom!

  One by one, those little fireballs sm into the ground where the Elf was just mere moments ago.

  But there is one rather significant issue with that incredible dispy of acrobatics. It brought her in line with Krvavy. Which the barbarian isn’t so keen on. Even less so as a rather rge fireball, a swirling inferno in its own right, is unched their way.

  With far, far less grace than that Elf, Krvavy dives away from the tree soon to be turned into kindling that faithfully served as her cover. A strange, invigorating feeling washes over the her. Which, alongside the notification that pops up into her vision, causes Krvavy to stumble.

  You have been inflicted with the Forest’s Curse. Deemed to belong, nature strengthens your being.

  -2.4 Health.

  The barbarian nds face-first in what she can only assume was once a rather leafy shrub but which is now nothing more than a pile of dusty ash. A grey smoky cloud poofs out around her partially prone body, obscuring her from the figures’ sight. An intense heat tickles her back and her tail, but otherwise harmlessly passes by.

  A part of Krvavy is already reconsidering her decision to stick around. But that mage must be getting low on mana by now... Right? He had better be.

  Because Krvavy is now in the clearing proper. Its edge has spread past where she was hiding moments ago. And she just dived in deeper.

  Scrambling slightly, Krvavy half crawls half throws herself behind a toppled tree trunk, dragging her crude axe with her.

  The intense and inescapable crackling of fmes is nearly drowned out by the beating of the barbarian’s heart. Both of the fighting figures... are so incredibly close to her. So much so that she can clearly make them out through the haze.

  A long leather coat is draped over the figure with the fming sword, billowing back from the heat of his magical bde. If it wasn’t for how scraggly and haggard he looked, then that may have been a rather impressive sight. Though, as it is, he just... he just reminds Krvavy of a sketchy crackhead. An aggressive and – considering what he has been saying – almost comically evil crackhead. With a sword made out of fire.

  And the Elf is... just as much of a stereotype. Albeit of a different kind. Shaped ptes of bark or rough wood cover her arms and chest, bound atop a green fabric tunic. A thin log dangles from her hip – no, that’s a quiver. One that, against all odds, somehow still has quite a few arrows in it. Not many, but more than the barbarian expected to see.

  But what really catches Krvavy attention is the fact that this Elf is wearing what appears to be leather pants. Very form-fitting leather pants that cling to her long and undoubtedly toned legs. Krvavy barely acknowledges the bark greaves covering her shins or the slim boots that her leather tights disappear down into. No, Krvavy’s gaze is focused on a certain spot just a little higher than that.

  Because this Elf’s green tunic is tucked into her pants. The quite obviously skintight leather clings to her shapely rear. To her svelte and fwless ass. Perfectly shaped and truly gorgeous... That beautiful sight –

  Boom...!

  – quite thoroughly distracts the Drakling.

  A wave of heat washes over her as a rge ball of bright orange fire crashes into the ground nearby, bursting apart as sparks and ashen twigs alike are sent flying through the air.

  The athletic Elf effortlessly dodges that attack. But, much like her guided arrow earlier, that seems to have been the point.

  “Ha!” A single, cruel ugh rings out as the sketchy fire mage swings his fming sword, which twists into a burning whip as it descends on the Elf.

  She jerks to the side, a hazy breeze guiding her movement, but she isn’t fast enough. Not this time. The string of magical fire burns through her bow and coils around her arm.

  With a tug, this sketchy crackhead of a man pulls the Elf towards him. That sudden movement knocks the disarmed Elf off her feet and she topples down onto the ashen ground. Directly in front of him. She grunts in pain, smoke rising from her bark bracer. Without wasting even a second, she pulls a knife from a sheath on her hip and stabs it towards the cruel mage.

  “Hahaha!” He ughs manically, stepping to the side. The back of his long coat has quite a few patches on it. And quite a few scorch marks too. He kicks the archers wrist, knocking the knife from her grip. “Helpless little elf!” The cruelly ughing man twists his fming whip, drawing a hiss of pain from the Elf, as he reaches into his coat.

  Krvavy’s stomach twists. Driven by instinct alone, she unches out from behind her fallen log and, before she even realizes it, her axe is swinging through the smoky haze. Just as the sadistic mage thrusts something towards the Elf’s neck.

  Time slows to a crawl as the seconds drag into an endless eternity. For just the briefest of moments, everything seems to go completely still. As if caught by a camera. It all resumes in an instant.

  A loud metallic click rings out across the clearing, piercing through the quiet crackling of fmes.

  94.27 Damage dealt to [Sketchy Fire Mage]

  An orange shimmer ripples through the air around that cruel man, sparking and fading like a dying fme. His long coat bears a new scar, but not one that made it all the way through.

  “Wh–?!” The fire mage cuts himself off, head snapping to the side. Crazed eyes, dark and full of hatred, gre into the Drakling’s soul. He raises his free hand up, palm pointed towards Krvavy’s bare chest, and –

  His whole body suddenly lurches back and away. A beam of pure heat shoots up into the sky above. His legs sink into the ashen soil as if it were nothing more than shifting sand or thin watery mud. Not something solid as it was seconds ago.

  Critical Hit! 749.28 Damage dealt to [Sketchy Fire Mage]

  The crude iron head of Krvavy’s even cruder axe bites down into his face.

  [Sketchy Fire Mage] has been sin!+1,050 Experience

  His limp body, engulfed up to the waist in the charred earth, topples over. His fming sword, or whip at this point, dissipates in an instant. As do some of the smaller surrounding fires.

  Level Up! You have reached Level 7. As a Drakling blessed by a divine power, you have 5 attribute points to allocate and have gained +2 to Might & Toughness. If not allocated by the time you fall asleep it will be done automatically.

  “Who...? Hhh...” The Elf flinches lightly as a puff of ash dusts her face. She lifts a hand up, wiping it away and revealing a hint of caramel coloured skin beneath the sooty grey. One of her eyes cracks open just the barest bit from that motion, showing off a sliver its bright blue-green hue.

  Her shes flutter.

  “Oh...” A look of recognition fills the Elf’s tanned face, quickly shifting into realization and then... into pure and utter dread. “Ah... shouldn’t’ve...” Her other eye twitches and jumps open as her pupils rapidly dite, growing into rge bck pits in the center of her gemstone-like iris’.

  The Elf suddenly begins to scream.