A new window flickered to life before Stick, its translucent blue glow illuminating the darkened edges of his vision. A web of branching paths and glowing nodes stretched outward, forming an intricate design that pulsed faintly with life. His fingers twitched with curiosity.

  He turned to Hirohiro for an explanation, but his companion only looked away.

  “Don’t ask me about them,” Hirohiro muttered.

  Stick frowned. “Why not?”

  “Figure it out yourself.”

  The finality in his tone left no room for argument. Stick exhaled and refocused on the skills that had just unlocked before him:

  Parry – Deflect an enemy attack, negating damage. Only works against enemies of the same level or lower. Does not work on bosses.

  Counterstrike – Strike immediately after dodging or parrying. Damage is weaker when dodging (50% bonus damage) but stronger after a parry (150% bonus damage).

  Stunning Blow – A heavy strike that stuns an enemy for 1 second. Unsuspecting targets fall unconscious.

  Stick blinked. Those would’ve been useful before.

  After burning the banner at the goblin camp, they followed the circular path toward the next target. The walk stretched long, the open fields around them blanketed in snow. Stick could see the remnants of old farmland—rotted fences, collapsed barns, skeletal trees standing against the wind.

  Hirohiro shifted uncomfortably, glancing over his shoulder more than usual. The silence grew thick, so Stick decided to break it.

  “So, what is the North Strip, anyway?”

  “It’s B4’s territory,” Hirohiro answered, his voice quieter than before. His gaze darted toward the horizon as if expecting something—or someone—to be watching.

  “Everything between Cavon and the northern coastline belongs to them.”

  “So why aren’t we allowed to go there?”

  “Their guild wants to stay neutral, but they’ll use force if provoked.”

  “But we don’t belong to Carnifex or the Heavenly Union.”

  “Right…” Hirohiro said, though he didn’t sound convinced.

  As if on cue, they came across a wooden sign, its surface rough and splintered. Strange symbols were scrawled across the top in the language Stick couldn’t understand:

  Τυ ολ βανντερερ? κροσσινγκ δι? παθ: Γιυ αρ ναυ εντερινγκ δε Νορθ Στριπ. Ονλι ντεθ αβειτ?. Τυρν μπακ ναυ ορ φει? δε κονσεκυενσ!

  Luckily, an inscription beneath provided a translation:

  To all travelers crossing this path. A warning from B4: You are now entering the North Strip. Only death awaits. Turn back now or face the consequence!

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Lovely.

  “Still want to go?” Big Man asked, arms crossed.

  Stick brushed past the sign without hesitation. “We have a mission.”

  Hirohiro muttered something under his breath but followed, still glancing behind them.

  Eventually, the second goblin camp came into view—a cluster of makeshift huts perched on a hill near the edge of the Whispering Woods. A terrible spot for a sneak attack during the day.

  “We should wait until nightfall,” Stick suggested.

  “We can’t stay here too long,” Hirohiro countered. “You have your skills now. Use them.”

  Stick frowned. “How come the goblins can camp here but not humans?”

  “They have bigger things to deal with than some goblins.”

  Stick didn’t ask for clarification, instead focusing on the fight ahead.

  The battle broke out fast.

  Stick had barely drawn his sword before the first goblin lunged at him, its rusted dagger flashing in the light. He raised his weapon instinctively—too late.

  Pain lanced through his chest. A red -75 LP floated in his vision.

  The HUD he had opened to keep track of the skills flashed, signaling perfect timing windows for skill usage. But instead of reacting, he was blinded by the sudden burst of lights.

  A goblin’s crude dagger sliced across his arm. Pain shot through him, sharp and real.

  Shit—focus!

  He watched for the flash of light again. This time, when the goblin lunged, he followed the prompt.

  Parry!

  His sword snapped up as if by itself, deflecting the goblin’s dagger with a ringing clash. The force sent the creature stumbling.

  A second shimmer—

  Counterstrike!

  Stick twisted his blade, slashing across the goblin’s exposed side with inhuman precision. A red -180 LP hovered over its head.

  It reeled, screeching—

  Stunning Blow!

  He followed up with a crushing strike, slamming the goblin to the ground. Before it could recover, Stick pivoted and drove his blade down with both hands. A final red -300 LP (Critical!) flashed in his vision.

  The goblin twitched once, then went still.

  Stick exhaled, exhilarated. I can do this.

  Big Man was a force of nature, hammering goblins into the ground with raw strength. He grabbed one by the throat and slammed it against a rock. His attacks weren’t as refined, but they were devastatingly effective.

  Stick, meanwhile, struggled against numbers. The cooldown of his skills left him open when multiple goblins attacked at once. He adapted. Instead of waiting for the HUD prompts, he mimicked the motions—the flow of a parry, the timing of a counterstrike.

  It worked. Although the movements weren’t as precise as with the guidance of the skill activation, it still worked.

  His sword carved through a goblin’s chest during a Counterattack. -100 LP. He parried another attack, twisted his grip, and drove his blade into its back. -170 LP (Critical!)

  With another Stunning Blow and a clean attack on the Goblin Leader, the last of them finally fell. Stick was drenched in sweat. He caught his breath, glancing at a small loot window that opened.

  Three silver coins. Sweet.

  His satisfaction quickly faded.

  Wait.

  Had he forgotten to loot anything in the first camp?

  “Damn it,” he muttered.

  Hirohiro groaned. “What was that?”

  “What was what?” Stick asked, dematerializing his sword.

  “How did you use your skills so often? What’s their cooldown?”

  Before Stick could answer—

  A tremor rumbled beneath them.

  The earth shook violently.

  Stick’s head snapped up just as a figure erupted from the treeline, sprinting toward them at terrifying speed.

  He was massive, clad in grotesque black armor like the Carnifex soldiers in the King’s Chambers, his shield nearly as tall as Stick himself. A broad longsword gleamed in his other hand. Despite his heavy gear, he moved impossibly fast.

  He skidded to a halt when he spotted them.

  The man’s eyes narrowed.

  “…Why are the three DDs standing in the same spot?”

  Silence.

  Stick, Big Man, and Hirohiro stared blankly.

  The man’s face twitched. “Wait a second… you aren’t our damage dealers.”

  From the woods, a voice roared—

  “WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU MORON?! INCOMING!!!”

  Stick turned.

  His blood ran cold.

  A deep, unnatural hum rattled the air. The treeline behind them exploded.

  A beam of pure darkness tore through the forest, devouring everything in its path. Wide as a river. Roaring. All-consuming.

  The air itself seemed to warp around it.

  Stick’s breath caught in his throat.

  We’re dead.

  The knight in dark armor whipped around, eyes going wide.

  Then he roared, raising his shield high—

  “IRON CASTLE!!!”

  The world turned white.

  Then—

  Blackness.

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