Chapter 29: Remark, Commander-Tier Field Boss

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[ You have killed 7 x Level 10 Legendary-rank Monsters. +3500 Tower Points. ]

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Maw had eaten five of the seven whole on the way, tucking them into the Voidmaw instead of leaving them to rot where they fell. Five slots, five bodies, saved for whenever he actually needed them.

"Five kilometres..." Logan muttered, looking at the mini-map that now held just five kilometers of radius left to close.

The dagger’s arrow had stopped at a place, no longer sitting at the map’s edge.

"We’ll be there soon. Slow the pace." He looked ahead and narrowed his eyes. "Can’t see anything past this. The mist’s too thick."

Logan sent Zephyr ahead to check the place out fast, trusting her speed to get a clean look before anything got a chance to notice her.

He checked his Tower Points while he waited.

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[ 21,330 Tower Points ]

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’Eighty thousand more and I get a new class. Whatever comes out of it, as long as it’s higher than Normal-rank, it’s worth it.’

Class got stronger the more it leveled, and a higher-rank class only raised the ceiling further.

’That bastard only had twelve hundred thirty points on him, though. Guess he burned through his reserve before he even attacked. Hope he had some gears and items on him when he surrendered. The eliminated players so far hadn’t dropped anything because they didn’t have anything on them. But surely a player like Marcus carried a storage ring, some items, and some weapons and armor worth having.’ Logan’s eyes glinted.

Logan didn’t know that Marcus had been overconfident enough not to scout the territory properly at all, not even a pass close enough to see the walls clearly before committing everything he had.

Marcus had flown back to his own base first, seven hundred twenty-nine kilometers away, and summoned everything his Tower Points could buy, combat and production both. Most of the production units ended up standing around with nothing to do.

He’d had one good card left to play. An item dropped from an Epic-rank dungeon chest, a piece of cloth that could stretch fifty meters wide and strip the weight from anything it carried. A full day’s cooldown on it, but it was exactly what a fast raid needed, everything loaded onto his quickest flier at once.

With that, and his three Legendary-rank summons, he’d been sure it would be enough.

He left with none of it. No summons, no cloth, no confidence left to speak of.

’I have to hoard as much as I can, so when I win the match, I can take everything back with me and sell it.’ Logan’s eyes resolved, his fists clenched. ’Mom, Dad, and Vina must live in a brand new house, eat the best food, and live a painless life after I leave this match.’

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"Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! Fuck this shit!"

Marcus appeared back in the academy hall and started cursing before he’d even finished materializing, staring down at what his first match had actually earned him.

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[ Your journey in the match is complete. ]

[ Overall Score: 1820. Player level: 10 retained. Class level: 8 retained. ]

[ Player’s Match Rank bracket: 70th-80th. Reward Multiplier of 0.2 applied. ]

[ 1820 score = 182 Tier Points x 0.2. Total Tier Points earned: 218. ]

[ Remark: Too bad you didn’t get a good rank despite having all the tools available to place in the top five, had you played carefully. Uninstall and delete. I’d give my class and talent away to someone else and die of shame. ]

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His eyes were bloodshot. ’Fuck you.’

’I lost. But what the hell was that? It’s not possible! It should not be! Why would that base have so many Mythic units?’

His jaw clenched so hard it stayed locked for a while.

"Marcus, you’re back already?"

"Dude, what happened? I got unlucky and screwed myself over with a bad call, sure, but didn’t you head in with three Legendary summon cards?"

"Most of our classmates are still out there."

"Wait, is he crying?"

He was, or close enough to it that he wasn’t sticking around to find out for sure. He left the hall as fast as his legs would carry him.

’It’s not my fault. I just had the bad luck to run into someone with a Mythic-rank talent and class. Those had to be his own class summons. Had to be.’

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"Master, past the mist is something strange." Zephyr’s voice came back tight. "A giant statue on one knee, holding a sword. It’s got a strange signature. Strong."

"Perfect. That means the dagger’s probably going to drop once we kill it."

It didn’t take long to find out he was right.

A Field Boss. Not a normal one, and not even an Elite one. One tier higher than that.

Commander-tier, one step below Champion-tier itself.

"This one’s going to drop something good. Alright, folks. Let’s plan its murder."

"That sounds bloody fun." Thistle grinned.

"I don’t think that statue would bleed blood. It’s made of stone." Nova commented flatly.

Logan chuckled. "Thistle, you will do your grand ensnarement. Spread the roots, use your skills. Pin it down and start drinking its HP. Tide, help with the suppression. Let’s make sure it can’t move at all while we murder it."

"Murder. Murder. It rolls off the tongue nicely." Shard laughed.

"It sounds awful." Nova rolled his eyes.

The mist thinned as they came within sight of it, and Logan finally understood why Zephyr’s report had sounded so uncertain.

It knelt on one knee in the center of a clearing scorched bare of grass, a sword driven point-first into the stone beneath it, easily three times Juggernaut’s height even folded down like that. Cracks ran across its whole surface, faint gold light bleeding out from inside like something was still alive in there, sealed behind stone that had forgotten how to be anything else.

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[ Vaelmourn, the Graven King - Commander-tier Field Boss ]

Rank: Special

— Stats —

HP: 50,000/50,000

MP: 50,000/50,000

Attack: 120

Speed: 80

Constitution: 500

Arcane: 500

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