danielnewwyn
The ground warned me, or maybe I just listened too well.
The Aetherhorn’s charge arrived. At the st moment, I stepped to the side, and the bulk thundered past me. The soil shook, but I stayed upright. Maybe it was Earthbound Reflex, or maybe it was just actual reflexes from years of stealing bread for Sir Rond.
The ox overshot its mark. Its momentum carried it forward, leaving a shallow trench where it had intended to make me into dust.
I spun and sshed at the hind leg.
[-1 HP]
[Aether-Pted Hide: -20%; -1 AP]
[Movement Interruption]
[Obdurate Advance: -2 AP]
The damage didn’t matter! The pn mattered!
The ox bellowed in outrage rather than pain, pawing the ground and twisting its massive body to correct its stance. Hearing its fuming cry, I couldn’t help but ssh at its other hind leg for good measure.
[-1 HP]
[-3 AP]
Another ssh, same ridiculous posture, same angle, same effect. From an outsider’s perspective, it must’ve looked absurd. From mine, it was perfect.
[-1 HP]
[-3 AP]
Oh yeah. Take that. I’m unstoppable—
Its massive hindquarters swung in a backkick.
[-4 HP]
[Your HP: 66/70]
[Knockback Attempt: Resisted]
[Enduring Will Activated (+5% Stamina, Enhanced Focus for 10 seconds)]
The backkick reminded me that enthusiasm was not a strategy. I nded on my feet, chest heaving, but Enduring Will made me see clearly now. It was time to learn its dance.
I circled, keeping just beyond its reach, letting my DEX guide me with quick sidesteps, light hops, tiny pivots—enough to stay mobile and bait a response. Each time it shifted to follow me, I noted the angles, the distance, the twitch of its muscles before it moved. Its patterns weren’t chaotic, but deliberate and terrifyingly consistent.
Every opportunity for a ssh came like a question: “Is this safe? Can I reach it before it reacts?”
[-1 HP]
[-3 AP]
[Ley-Fed Bulk Activated: +3 HP, -3 AP]
It had worked so far. The creature was down to 17 AP. But I needed to be efficient. My stamina had gone down to 61%. I was covering a lot of ground now, but I could only do so for another thirty seconds before it plummeted to below 50%.
Another approach, another quick ssh at its rear leg, then a sidestep to keep out of its front hooves.
[-1 HP]
[-3 AP]
[Your Stamina: 57%]
Just under 60%, and I could feel the burn in my legs.
After that, the fight blurred into pattern and punishment.
Circle. Bait. Ssh. Retreat.
Its breathing grew ragged. Not from pain, but from expenditure. Mass that rge needed AP just to exist.
Finally—
[AP: 2 → 0]The Aetherhorn sagged as the aether threading through its body lost coherence. I stopped circling.
[Your Stamina: 49%]
[Status Applied: Slight Fatigue (-5% DEX, -5% PER)]
My lungs screamed. I could feel the tremor in my grip as I shifted my stance and pnted my feet.
Static surged along the bde.
[Static Surge Activated]
[Trapped Soul of Emperor Doza Activated]
The ox tried to lift its head. Too slow.
I struck at the base of the skull, right where horn met bone, driving the bde down with everything I had.
“Behold, foul creature! The EXTREMELY HOLY SLASH OF KNIGHTLY JUSTICE!”
[Saints’ Precision Activated]
DMG: (10 + 17 + 5 + 24) * 1.5 - 26 → [-53 HP]
[Creature’s HP: 169/226]
The ox didn’t die.
That was the first problem. The second was that I was right there.
Its breathing turned into a wet, furious snort, hooves grinding into the soil as it dragged itself forward.
It was mad now.
Charging without grace, without efficiency, without AP—but still charging. I just remembered that Territorial Trample didn’t require good stamina. Just enough hatred to go in a straight line.
Then I remembered something else: my aura.
“Halt,” I said. “Now.”
[Intimidation Aura Activated]
[Thunderous Edict Activated]
Thunder cracked overhead, lightning spiderwebbing through the clouds above. The ground vibrated beneath my boots.
“You shall know pain,” I finished.
[Intimidation Successful]Its hooves dug furrows into the earth as its charge colpsed into a halt.
Yes. Yes. I’ve got you now, foolish creature. Now stay still so I can—
The ox didn’t. It panicked.
Oh no. I was TOO intimidating.
Without warning, the Aetherhorn turned and bolted straight away.
[Target State: Frightened]
[Behavior Override: Flee]
“NO. CEASE RUNNING IMMEDIATELY. YOU WILL HALT. OR YOU WILL DIE,” I screamed after it.
[Creature’s Territorial Trample Activated]It did not just activate Territorial Trample just to run away.
I needed it dead! I wouldn’t get EXP nor meat if it got away.
“SILVERMANE!” I growled. “COME TO MY AID.”
[Intimidation Failed – Silvermane is too familiar with you]Ceralis said. But Silvermane galloped over anyway. She thundered in from my left at a zy canter, still chewing thoughtfully on a mouthful of grass. Her ears were pinned ft in personal annoyance.
She shot me a look. It very clearly said: You interrupted my lunch.
There was no time to apologize.
The Aetherhorn was already tearing up the ground ahead, panic driving it faster than reason ever had, its bulk crashing through brush and stone as Territorial Trample burned itself out in service of escape. Then it took damage from my enchantment’s effect.
[-10 HP – Trapped Soul of Emperor Doza]Silvermane snorted, finally swallowed, and broke into a full gallop without waiting for permission.
The chase was on.
At least, I thought it was on.
I hadn’t seen it coming.
One moment the Aetherhorn was barreling through the trees. The next moment, a storm of stone and unstoppable force tore onto the path.
Durand.
The pebble-skinned gnome?thing Anabeth had built for reasons of cheerful overengineering, sprinted in full?tilt. Before I could even react, the little gravel-child rammed into the Aetherhorn’s rear with a single, perfectly aimed headbutt.
[-58 HP]
[-10 HP – Trapped Soul of Emperor Doza]
The ground shook. The ox rolled violently to the side, smming into brush, hooves filing uselessly in the air.
What.
Minus fifty-eight? From that tiny thing?
And why... why in the bzing Saints was Durand here?
Anabeth. Of course. She was supposed to be gathering herbs. Gathering herbs, she had said.
I gaped at the aftermath. The ox y dazed, steam rising from its fur, while Durand pnted its stubby feet and made a pleased grinding noise.
What had Anabeth been doing?
Doesn’t matter. Kill the ox now, before it gets its feet back under it.
I lunged for the exposed throat while the ox was still stunned and helpless, because questions were a luxury and this was a closing window.
The fight was remarkably easy once the ox had decided to lie down. I just commanded Silvermane to trample it, and the hooves would come down like punctuation marks, knocking the breath and momentum back out of the Aetherhorn just as it tried to gather itself. Every time the ox tried to rise, Silvermane corrected the attempt with bored efficiency. She didn’t even look particurly invested.
[-10 HP]
[Trampling Dominance Successful!]
Only then did the system finally deign to inform me what she was doing.
[Silvermane — Skill: Trampling Dominance]
While mounted or acting independently, Silvermane deals +25% damage to targets beneath her mass. If the target is Knocked Down, applies an 80% chance to suppress recovery and maintain the prone state. AP cost: 5. Cooldown: 0
Ah. I’d apparently been too low level to see her skillset before.
[-10 HP – Trampling Dominance]
[-10 HP – Trapped Soul of Emperor Doza]
[-10 HP – Trampling Dominance]
[-10 HP – Trapped Soul of Emperor Doza – Effect Waned]
I circled, measured distance, waited for the thrashing to slow.
[Trampling Dominance Failed!]The ox finally found its feet. This was the chance to test out Silvermane’s signature move; a skill I reckoned was registered in Ceralis.
[Silvermane — Skill: Crushing Rear Kick]
Silvermane delivers a fully committed rear kick with both hind legs.
Deals +50% damage. Effect: Sundered Vitality — Target’s END is halved for this strike. Note: Does not bypass armor. Cost: 8 AP. Cooldown: 15 seconds.
That would do.
“Silvermane. Kick.”
She turned her head, then her shoulders, then—very deliberately—rotated her entire body until she was facing the ox with her hindquarters. She gave one preparatory and entirely unnecessary shake of her rear, then both hooves came back in a single motion.
The kick nded with a concussive thoom.
[36 (Silvermane’s STR) x 150%] - [26 (Aetherhorn’s END) / 2] → [- 43 HP]By the Saints! That’s the bloody work, girl! She didn’t even need lightning.
[Creature’s HP: 2/226]Silvermane snorted, entirely satisfied, and went back to looking for better grass.
The Aetherhorn colpsed with a painful roar. This wasn’t a fight anymore. I slid down from the saddle, adjusted my grip, and aimed for the angle that mattered. My kill.
Sir Rond had fought great oxen. Monsters out of legend and winter songs—things with horns like siege engines and hides that turned bdes aside. He had survived them, and came back with stories that always started the same way: I was terrified, but I stood my ground.
This wasn’t a great ox. But the stance was right. The angle was right. I was following his footsteps.
Just a light ssh, Henry. Get it down to exactly zero. That sweet, sweet round number. This is your moment.
I could feel non-existent tears of joy streaming down my cheeks as a I sang, “By the blessed light of Saint Merin, let it be known across all kingdoms, from the sunlit spires of Valerion to the shadowed halls of Drethmoor, that Sir Henry Hildebraud of Mostenstein, scion of the venerable Knighthood, has faced the abyss and struck true! No foul beast, no—”
Durand hit the ox like divine editorial intervention.
The pebble-skinned gnome-thing came screaming in from my right and bulldozed straight through the Aetherhorn’s ribcage. The ox left the ground.
Not metaphorically.
It flew.
Several meters, end over end, trailing dirt, blood, and what dignity it had left, before nding in the grass with a sound like a colpsing barn.
[-88 HP]
[Creature’s HP: -86/190]
There was a very brief, very final wheeze.
Then silence.
I stared.
[Combat Completed]
[Last Hit: Durand]
[Kill Credit Assigned]
NO! MY KILL! MY FIRST OX! MY ZERO HP! NO!
I thundered, “YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS, STONE ABOMINATION. I SWEAR BY SAINT MERIN AND ALL WHO STAND WITNESS, I WILL GRIND YOUR KIND INTO DUST SO FINE IT WILL BE MISTAKEN FOR ROAD SAND. YOUR LINE SHALL END BENEATH MY BOOTS. I WILL CRUSH YOU SO THOROUGHLY THAT GEOLOGISTS WILL ARGUE FOR CENTURIES WHETHER YOU EVER EXISTED.”
Lightning struck and thunder rolled behind me, tearing open the sky in seams of white fire as if the firmament had decided my tantrum was legally binding.
[Intimidation Failed]
[Reason: Target cks fear response]
Durand waddled away, the same way it’d come from.
[EXP Attributed to you: 23 EXP out of possible 64 → x2 = 46 EXP]
[EXP Attributed to Durand: 26 EXP out of possible 64]
[EXP Attributed to Silvermane: 15 EXP out of possible 64]
The ambutory pile of enthusiasm and gravel that had stolen my kill, ignored my divine wrath, and waddled off like it had just helped with the gardening. And it’d gotten more experience out of it than I did.
EXP: 6249/7500“This,” I said with deadly calm, “is not over.”
Anabeth had built that thing. Which meant this was, by extension, her fault. I would find her. I would ask very reasonable questions. About damage attribution. About kill credit. About why her rock child thought it was acceptable to steal a man’s first ox and walk away richer for it.
There would be answers.
There would be accountability.
I turned, already rehearsing the opening line of that conversation, then I saw another ox from across the field. Across the field, not thirty paces away, another Aetherhorn grazed zily among the rocks. Bigger. Healthier. Entirely unaware that it had just been promoted to emotional restitution.
I stared at it.
It stared back.
My grip tightened on the sword.
Never mind. Anabeth could wait.
This ox would be mine to kill.
Oxen were weak-willed creatures. After some trial-and-error, I’d learned that Silent Authority alone was enough to render them frozen, Intimidation Aura would risk startling them, and Thunderous Edict would 100% get them to take flight. With some well-timed Silent Authority, I managed to sy six more Aetherhorn before my infamy spread across the herd, and soon no oxen were left in the local vicinity.
With careful timing and minimal theatrics, Silent Authority let me control the engagement perfectly.
Still, I wasn’t foolish enough to do all the work myself.
After the second ox, my stamina dipped below a threshold I didn’t like. After the third, my arms began to burn in that familiar, traitorous way that suggested future mistakes. So I let Silvermane do what she did best—trample, kick, harass, and reposition—while I conserved energy and delivered the final, proper strikes.
By the time the herd learned better and fled the area entirely, six more Aetherhorn y dead in the grass.
I finally checked the numbers.
Each Aetherhorn was worth 64 EXP.
Six kills meant 384 EXP total.
Contribution breakdown followed immediately.
[EXP Distribution — Summary]
You: 288 EXP x 2 = 586 EXP
Silvermane: 96 EXP
Your EXP: 6835/7500
Silvermane’s EXP: 8742/12800
It appeared that all the terror I’d unleashed upon the local bovine popution counted as Aura Farming, because when I opened the Aura Market once more, I’d already accumuted 202 Aura.
But then again, I shouldn’t. I remembered the knight code: no malicious havoc on local people. But the Code didn’t say anything about terrorizing cows. So, I supposed that was permitted.
With the field finally quiet, I turned my attention to the aftermath.
Loot.
Specifically: horns, hides, and the uncomfortable realization that killing something and processing something were entirely different skill sets.
The horns at least were straightforward.
Aetherhorn horns were anchored deep into the skull, but not magically fused. Awkward, but doable. I braced a hoof with my boot, set the longsword at the base, and worked the bde in with controlled leverage rather than finesse. Sawing, not slicing.
[Item Acquired: Aetherhorn Horn x1 (Common)]
[Quality: Intact]
[Note: Minor edge damage detected]
Six corpses ter, I had a small, neat pile of horns arranged by size, and a sword that needed a thorough cleaning but hadn’t suffered any meaningful damage. That part, at least, I could cim as a success.
Then came the hides.
I stared at the first ox and crouched, trying to remember anything Sir Rond had ever said about skinning.
He had not, to my recollection, ever said anything about skinning. Probably because knights weren’t supposed to do this part.
I made the initial incision carefully, shallow and controlled, just under the rib line. The bde snagged. I adjusted the angle. It snagged again. I tried a longer cut. The hide resisted, stretched, then tore unevenly, like badly cured leather refusing to cooperate.
This is dreadful.
Skinning required finesse, short strokes, and wrist control. What I had was a longsword.
Each attempt produced either too little progress or far too much damage. Finally, the hide came away in ragged sheets instead of clean panels.
[Skinning Attempt: Suboptimal]
[Hide Quality: Poor]
[Yield Reduced: -40%]
I grimaced. I should’ve kept the slime dagger.
Which meant, regrettably, that this was now Anabeth’s problem. Anabeth struck me as the sort of person who would absolutely own a dagger. Several, in fact. The sort of collection acquired not out of sentiment, but preparedness. Harmless-looking people were always like that.
I sheathed my sword, took one st look at the field, and mounted Silvermane once more.
“Right,” I muttered. “We’re finding Anabeth.”
Silvermane snorted.
