Killing the first monster was easy. The blasting music, or maybe his tantrum led one right to him and his pistol quickly dispatched it. “Is all this stupid place has to offer this fucking lizard things.” Kyles set up a time on his phone for one hour. Sits on the ground with his legs criss crossed.

  He takes out his bottle from his bag and sets it a little in front of him. He uses it as a kickstand to prop his phone, so he can watch anime for the next hour. A one minute notification pops up on his phone and he looks up at the pouch. His focus wandered between the two sources of entertainment before him.

  The alarm blares over his anime “Cool so I guess I know I have at least an hour.” He starts to get up slowly, scooping his phone up, placing both hands on his knees. The full motion takes him over a minute to complete. When he looks back at the bag he jumps.

  “Oh shit” He yelps, seeing the leather pouch start to fade. Pieces of it are phasing out of existence slowly leaving the bag riddled with holes that should be detrimental to its structural integrity, but it stands steel. Small pierce vanishes from the bag the rate picking up, Kyle runs to the bag and dives his hand in.

  ******

  Harkell’s skin shimmers with red light. An aura of his manifested fury and desire for combat surrounds him.

  *That idiot thinks he’s so smart, but I’m a natural born fighter. A warrior. A RULER. Unlike that pathetic worm I can learn from a fight. Those kobolds were all level 6. That’s just a bit stronger than the average goblin hunter from any tribe. If those kobolds think anything like that transient bastard then their people are just as valueless to them. He would send in his people like animals to the slaughter in order to test a possible enemy. That squad wasn’t their best, hell none of them had magic equipment. Their elites are probably only a little bit stronger than them suffering from a similar level cap as us. Odds are I’m the same level as their elites since I’m a higher level than the rest of the goblins, so all I need to do is get just a bit stronger. One level is probably all I need. I’ll push myself to the brink. Then I will be strong enough to conquer those scaled freaks.*

  At the speed of his charge it doesn’t take him long to literally run into a monster. Like a rhino he slams into the troglodyte sending it flying back on to its ass. As the first monster to cross his path is flying through the air Harkell catches up to it and with a single swing of his axe chops the beast's head off.

  By the time the shards of light dissipate around him he’s already several yards away from the fallen leather pouch. A voice fills his mind to inform him of his deed, but he’s too focused to care. The moment his axe and his tasted the blood his mind went blank of all his previous thoughts. His mind can only think of one thing “slaughter”

  Harkell continues his path of destruction. Running non stop swinging his axe at everything in sight. Anything he went up against was killed with a single chop. Anything that looked too strong was attacked using a skill and would fall just as easily. He expends nearly all of his stamina, but eventually he makes it to the end of his tunnel. He peaks out into the wild lands.

  Steam roils off his flesh. The heat from his body coupled with his skill Bloodlust’s initial effect wearing off is enough to literally cause it to evaporate. He stands at the precipice of solitude and danger. His mind free of judgement he steps forth. The view was inviting for him to refuse.

  Directly in front of the tunnel entrance is a troglodyte and froghemoth circling each other, Bating the other to attack. At times one will lash out with clawed hands, or sloppy tongue, each time it's faint and the other monster stands unflinching.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  The troglodyte’s claws are incredibly long; it seems to have a mutation specifically geared towards making them as long as thin as possible. It can’t even stand with its hands at its sides without its claws hitting the ground so it keeps its arms upward.

  The froghemoth is gargantuan in terms of mass, width and length. From head to toe it is covered in a goop so thick it’s almost opaque. Its body is smooth and it doesn’t look to have any scary weapons or hidden ways to fight. This beast evolved its goop. The beast must be either highly defensive, or corrosive. Harkell considers neither option as he rushes at the beast. Only choosing that one because at the particular moment it had its back turned to him.

  With a rumbling roar the froghemoth screams. The attack taking it from behind leaves it surprised. The mucus on its flesh turns a deep black color before shattering like glass blocking most of the force from the attack. The blunt force seems to transfer through to the beast knocking it a few feet away from harkell.

  A huge spot of its back now appears dry, lacking the viscous protective goop covering the rest of its body. The troglodyte reacts to the enemy with a glee filled screech. Like a rapier poised to strike it rears back its hand. The creature begins to run, its right arm still reared back behind its head. When it reaches within 4 ft of Harkells it fuses the movement of its body with a thrusting strike with its hand.

  Harkell parries the attack string the beast's wrist with the side of his axe. He sets up for a counter strike ready to side swipe the beast into oblivion, but the monster's second claw swipes at his torso causing him to step back. As a result when swings his axe he isn’t able to put all of his power into. Still a massive gash splits open on the beast's chest, if it was an inch deeper it would have chopped the beast’s organs apart.

  Blood infuses itself into the axe and a stream of red gaseous aura slithers down the blade, shaft into Harkells arms. All of the veins visible on his arms bulge and creaks as his muscles flex against it. He screams, quietly at first, but the more the essence of blood seeps into him the louder he gets.

  The froghemoth has fully turned around its dry spot no longer visible. It croaks, the bellowing loud enough to shake Harkell from within. Without waiting for his fight to finish the monster's group. Unwittingly and without skill, but their fighting styles are perfectly compatible for it.

  Harkell ducks underneath a stabbing nail that was aimed between his eyes. While still in a downward motion the froghemoth’s tongue flashes out targeting him center mass. Harkell quickly retaliates by attempting to smash the troglodyte's arm into the way of the tongue using his axe.

  The troglodyte’s arm cracks at the joint and is sent at the froghemoth’s tongue. Without joints the froghemoth is able to quickly curl its tongue up like a hose on a rack. The troglodyte recovers from the blow and starts wildly thrusting both arms as fast as it can in a chaotically rhythmic way.

  The froghemoth’s attacks are much less frequent. Far more planned. Its tongue curls around the troglodyte now paying attention to both its opponent and its alley. Only starting its strike right after the troglodyte does, so Harkell is always blocking attacks from at least 2 directions.

  Several blows are exchanged. The troglodyte has received several small blows from Harkell and each time it was cut blood flowed from its wounds. However on the last cut Harkell notices the aura surrounding his axe not getting any richer. This is his moment to strike, he activates a passive skill to increase his speed.

  To make an opening rather than blocking the troglodyte's next stabbing attack he smacks it with his open palm. The troglodytes is forced to take a step forward over extending from the force of its unstopped lunge. He timed this blow exactly with the froghemoth’s tongue flick.

  SPLOSH. The tongue plops onto the floor making a sound like someone emptying a can of peaches onto the floor. With a displeased, but not entirely en-pained, or outraged groan the froghemoth retracts the remainder of its tongue.

  His axe whistles through the wind, the aura surrounding the axe head is absorbed into the blade the moment he starts the downward movement. The consumed aura fuels another skill that Harkell activates right before impact.

  *You have defeated a level 7 Stabbing Troglodyte Piercer. You have gained XP*

  He releases his Bloodlust skill with a blood curdling roar. He activates a dash and before the froghemoth can think he has begun to swing at it.

  With reckless abandon, much in a similar way to the recently deceased troglodyte he unleashes a flurry of blows onto the froghemoth. Upon each hit the mucus surrounding his target almost magnetically shoots out, hardens and shatters. The froghemoth is unable to open its mouth, or even move, any attempt it makes to do either is met with one of Harkells stronger attacks to keep it back in line.

  Once the mucus has all but faded from the beast Harkell jumps backwards, then immediately lunges forward using the momentum of his run, he leaps into the air and with a massive overhead cop he cleaves the beast in twain.

  *You have defeated a level 7 Coating Froghemoth Tongue Fencer. You have gained XP*

  The stamina drain of Bloodlust shows itself. Using it several times back to back is heavily taxing, but there is no hard cooldown, so when Harkell gets impassioned he will activate it as often as he pleases. Harkell unscathed lets out a deep breath. Slowly his chest rises and falls again at a slow pace he steadies himself preparing to set off into the unknown alone.