Chapter Sixteen: Battle, Battle, Battle

Even in the final second before the battle truly began, neither Cup of Wine Growing Stronger nor Little Bob could muster the fierce confidence that Ember possessed. Yet, the moment Ember swung his Direwolf Gauntlets, both cast aside their worries in unison, fixing their sights on a single target.

As the saying goes, the bird that sticks its head out gets shot first.

At the far end of the opposing line, the mercenary armed with a rifle took a step forward, revealing himself in their sights. Without hesitation, Cup of Wine Growing Stronger loosed a critical arrow, striking him first. Little Bob followed with a flick of his wrist, conjuring two explosive fireballs in his palm. Not only did they strike their mark, but they also triggered a violent blast, nearly sending a nearby Giant Tree mercenary tumbling.

Boom, boom!

[Prompt: You participated in slaying the “Giant Tree Mercenary.” You have earned a large amount of contribution points!]

This sudden notification was a shot of adrenaline for Cup of Wine Growing Stronger. Only now did she realize the true extent of Little Bob’s power! When they’d first encountered him at the Corpse Hive, both her and Ember’s detection skills were suppressed, never imagining that he was a spellcaster more formidable than herself—one whose prowess rivaled the elite students she’d met at university.

The requirements to learn Explosive Fireball were harsh enough; to cast twin Explosive Fireballs was even more demanding. Seeing Little Bob’s body tense with fatigue, Cup of Wine Growing Stronger understood he must be suffering the aftereffects. This swift victory planted a question in her mind: how much would this momentum sway the final outcome?

“Damn it! My rations!”

Seeing its food reduced to cinders, the grey-skinned werewolf was furious. It wanted everyone to perish in this Nightmare Challenge, to make them all its food. Although, as the challenge’s architect, it knew exactly how strong each contender was, watching the fireballs destroy its meal still made its blood boil.

“Fortunately, that kid doesn’t know those ridiculous tricks! Go on, go on, don’t waste the chance I’ve created for you!”

As the grey-skinned werewolf’s gaze shifted to Ember, Cup of Wine Growing Stronger noticed the brawny Giant Tree warrior being dragged away by blood-red vines. She watched as Ember, with one hand, brought a healing potion to his lips, while the other used a fallen Giant Tree mercenary as a shield to absorb damage. Then, like a tiger among sheep—or a lone hero—his not-so-robust frame suddenly burst with power and, with unwavering resolve, he charged into the enemy ranks.

In that instant, Cup of Wine Growing Stronger realized something.

Perhaps... things weren’t as dire as she’d thought?

Yes, truly, things weren’t so bad!

Because as soon as Ember saw this Nightmare Challenge provided him with two favorable conditions, he knew with certainty that, possessing overwhelming strength, he was now even more unstoppable.

Those two conditions were—distance and positioning.

The eight members of the Giant Tree Research Institute’s team were arranged four melee, four ranged. Though one of their ranged attackers had already been killed by a nightmare for making a racket, if both sides had simply lined up and fought head-on, Ember’s side would have stood no chance. But the grey-skinned werewolf, in orchestrating this challenge, had perfectly limited the ranged units’ room to maneuver, allowing Ember to fully exploit his strength advantage.

Nevertheless, the Giant Tree Institute’s personnel were nothing if not well-trained. The Giant Tree warrior instantly tried to kill Ember, while the others, per their plan, formed a slanted formation—maximizing their firepower to swiftly eliminate Ember’s trio.

Unfortunately, their plan had two fatal flaws.

One was underestimating Ember’s strength; the other was belittling the firepower of Cup of Wine Growing Stronger and Little Bob. As a result, they lost two members almost instantly, and the fireball explosion disrupted their formation, plunging the battlefield into chaos.

They never expected that Ember had already devised his tactics, and the powerful displays from his allies not only failed to impede his plan but greatly eased his burden.

As Ember’s palm landed on the Giant Tree warrior’s face, his left hand slipped to his belt pouch, retrieving his last basic healing potion. He downed it in one gulp, restoring a third of his health—almost bringing him back up to full. Without pausing, he stepped into the Giant Tree warrior’s former position, coming face-to-face with the next mercenary, armed with a gun.

This battle-hardened mercenary had witnessed his deputy’s death but kept his composure. He raised his weapon, aimed at Ember, activated his skill, and pulled the trigger.

[Prompt: You have suffered a “Marksmanship: Critical Strike” from “Giant Tree Mercenary.” You have taken thirty-three points of life damage.]

Though the mercenary’s firepower was less than that of the Giant Tree warrior, the shot still dealt substantial damage. But taking this hit was part of Ember’s plan—trading blood for victory was his only path.

He lunged forward, his arm whipping like the wind. The hand that had just struck the first warrior now swept back in a reverse slap.

Against six points of Strength, an average-stat ranged fighter was utterly defenseless. Not only was his head snapped backward, but, due to the force and angle, his body was flung aside—colliding with another mercenary who was charging in with a blade.

“Bravo, kid! I like you more and more!” The grey-skinned werewolf whistled with excitement. Instantly, countless blood-vines erupted, dragging away the unfortunate mercenary. It was delighted by Ember’s performance: it had only created a small opportunity, yet Ember delivered such rich rewards. Greed gleamed in the werewolf’s eyes as it anticipated even greater feats—and Ember’s ultimate downfall into nightmare.

“Die! I want you all dead!”

Three down.

Ember paid no heed to the werewolf’s thoughts. He simply kept count in his heart—a number that didn’t represent the enemies slain by the nightmare, but the attrition of the enemy’s ranged firepower.

Three gun-wielding Giant Tree mercenaries: one killed by nightmare flames, one by a brutal instant kill, one by the game’s own rules. This meant only one ranged unit remained—the one Ember feared most.

Yet, that final foe was the strongest of all.

Because Cup of Wine Growing Stronger, as a key damage dealer, lacked survivability, Ember had planned from the start to eliminate every enemy ranged fighter. Thanks to Little Bob, the one furthest from him had been dealt with, leaving only the central Giant Tree gunslinger to complete his plan—and only a single step separated them now.

But taking that step was no simple matter. Two sword-wielding mercenaries now barred his path, shielding their esteemed leader, who stood ready with a loaded, large-caliber shotgun, cold eyes fixed on Ember, waiting for him to walk into the trap. The last remaining mercenary was still recovering from the fireball blast, unable to join the fray immediately—a rare piece of good news for Ember.

Though the situation remained dire, the battle’s progress was still within Ember’s predictions. In fact, this outcome was far better than his worst-case scenario.

Because the swords before him were not three, nor even two as they appeared—but truly threatening was only one.

Thus, as Ember ended his second foe with a backhanded strike, he dropped his shoulder and charged, barreling into the mercenary whose attack had been spoiled by his comrade’s interference. In the blink of an eye, the mercenary had no chance to raise his blade again—Ember rammed into his chest, sending him staggering back. At the same time, the mercenary’s body shielded Ember, preventing the gunslinger from finding a shot, and allowing Ember to close the gap.

The grey-skinned werewolf was momentarily stunned. It realized the challenge was slipping from its control.

Ember, its chosen focus, was acting off-script.

Because of the limited collision setting, Ember couldn’t keep using the mercenary as a shield indefinitely, but the distance was short enough that he forced his way into the optimal assault range. Even so, his actions were not without cost: the mercenary at the front slashed Ember’s unprotected back with a heavy blow.

[Prompt: You have suffered a “Blade Art: Slash” from “Giant Tree Mercenary.” You have taken twenty-four points of life damage.]

The powerful strike left Ember with only fifty-eight health points, with an additional fifteen points of bleeding damage to come over the next few seconds. He had no way to heal further—the bandages he’d looted required time to apply, and his other medicines couldn’t take effect immediately.

But what Ember lacked most now was time.

As his shoulder charge lost its force, Ember and the retreating mercenary separated, putting Ember out of reach of the blade and sending the mercenary crashing into the last opponent to arrive—though this wouldn’t net another kill, it did clear Ember’s path to his final foe.

At this moment, Ember’s in-game and actual stamina were enough, aided by his power-assist device, to take that last step—coming face-to-face with the gunslinger, the leader of the squad, and staring down the black maw of the shotgun...