Seven hundred soldiers and adventurers were organized into two segregated camps, the group of adventurers I was part of being a minority placed between the soldiers and the enemy fortification, as if we could escape at any moment.

  Until then I had only been on the soldiers' side, and I knew well that the chances of desertion were significantly higher for adventurers (for starters, many joined adventurers' guilds to avoid forced recruitment in regions where such practices existed) and that position made sense, but at that moment I had to admit, that arrangement was getting on my nerves.

  — Pft! Shitty little soldiers! — the adventurer next to me commented, spitting the tobacco he was chewing on the ground. — They're making us look like idiots, thinking we're cowards. Bah! When this fight starts, we'll show them that the ones who really keep álfheim safe are us!

  — Hmm... Better they make us out to be beasts than bait — I shrugged. — If they think we're so unreliable, I hope they decide they can't count on our help, and put us in the rearguard or reserve — I turned to face my new colleague with a smile on my face. — Haha, but who are we trying to fool, right? I bet they'll put us on the front lines and hope we open a breach in their defenses, or at least make the enemies spend a good part of their magical stamina and projectiles.

  The adventurer stared deep into my good eye for a long moment. Then down at my empty, scabby eyeball nestled just above my exposed cheekbones, the wound still barely healed. Then back up at my good eye.

  — Pft! Fuck you, you fucking bad omen! — cursing and throwing his hands up, the adventurer left the hill from which we were observing the camps and the fortress ahead.

  — Hm? Déjà-vu — unfortunately alone, I went back to analyzing the objective of that whole operation: — Tch, it would be better if the garrison had lit up all the magical stuff they had and brought this whole thing down. But no, now we're going to have to invade this thing...

  We were laying siege to Margin Keep, the last bastion of elven civilization before the Sangria Desert. Or at least that was the case until surviving monsters from the last Shadow King's army invaded the place, led by a Shadow Baron who had escaped the massacre of the Abyss City with his troop, with whom he had spent all this time secretly gathering resources in order to organize an escape from the elven lands.

  The fortress was nestled in the only pass through the Mountain Range of Faces for many weeks' march, that mountain range being a small chain of mountains that separated the civilized side of the continent of álfheim from its antonym, each of the few passages into the wilds beyond being guarded by a fortress carved in the shape of the face of an ancient Hero. Well, "small" was relative in this sense, for the range crossed the entire continent and its peaks were as high as a week's march; they were small only in comparison to the Mountain Range of Guards in the far west of the continent, whose peaks were so impressively high that they were measured in years of march, and surpassed the height of the highest clouds.

  — It's already going to be practically impossible to survive this siege without an eye, if I fall to this Shadow Baron, I might as well give up right away — naturally, I had already tried to convince my superiors to leave me in a position appropriate for a disabled person, but the guild master who sent me on that mission must have pulled some strings, because I wasn't allowed any place in the adventurer army, other than on the front lines. — Should I have spent my last reserves on a will? ...Nah, I'd rather risk everything on the slightest chance of surviving.

  And with that single goal in mind, not to slay the monster that was so immeasurably stronger than me (even if he was considered the weakest Baron of the already defeated dark army) nor even to succeed in the assault, but just to survive, I made sure to memorize every visible fraction of the fortress. Unfortunately, pawns like us did not have access to maps of the interior like our commanders, but I could still, at least, form a solid mental image of the walls and inner courtyard.

  On the side we would attack, the wall of solid, smooth rock was three times my size, shaped like the holy sword of a Hero of old, its gate located on the sun-shaped guard. Since the fortress had been built to protect that side of the continent from necromantic dangers to the west, rather than those coming from the east, it was less protected on the side we would attack from, but it still offered no blind spots or easy climbing due to the clever way the towers were designed, carved right into the mountains flanking the structure. The courtyard was also quite open, with no visible cover, and faced a huge elven rock face dotted with countless arrow slits from which enemy monsters could easily target us.

  — And speaking of monsters... how many of them are retreating inside? Three hundred? Four hundred? I only see a few goblin archers and even fewer orc mages on the wall. I find it hard to believe that more than five hundred monsters managed to sneak through our siege of the Abyss City. But I can't even confirm a numerical advantage, since, judging by the power of that hobgoblin, they may very well be mostly elite — I scratched my head. — Better return to camp now, before they think I've deserted — I had been given a bit of a break due to my high position in the guild, but I was still a mere commoner who hadn't even managed to get strong enough to remain in the army after the end of the war, after all, and the special treatment I received went no further than being allowed an extra half hour to shit in the woods.

  ?

  — Listen to me, all adventurers! — a soldier in shiny, polished armor, without a scratch, a big-nosed nobleman accompanied by half a dozen Mages who had probably never had to block a sword before, shouted orders to us, who had been left out until the last minute. — We will attack the fort in an hour, and you will form the front line! Be sure to open the gates!

  Funny how a number of my fellow adventurers turned their angry glares on me, rather than the one truly responsible for the orders, muttering about bad omens and superstitions.

  — I just hope I don't get stabbed in the back before I even reach that wall... — I complained, controlling myself from scratching the wound on the left side of my face, which was still healing. I sought help from Alchemists and Healers, but no one other than the most powerful and expensive professionals would be able to restore my vision, and if the preventive measures I took to have any chance of surviving that battle had already cost me dearly, a service to repair a lost organ would be many times more expensive. — I hope my new helmet is even better than the last one.

  Just after I had dressed for combat, sporting a new sallet-type helmet, it was time for the invasion.

  Apparently, at the special request of the big-nosed commander himself, I was placed right in the front row among the adventurers, who would in turn be the first force to attempt to invade the fortress, and I was not given a chance to argue that position.

  So the adventurers were chaotically positioned in a nearly circular position facing our objective ahead, and surrounded by the army to the left, right, and back. It wasn't a family band with operations of that scale, or intricate command orders, higher-ranking adventurers not really having authority over their juniors, so there wasn't even a grand plan that we would all follow.

  — ADVANCE! — when the military commander ordered, we all shot at full speed towards the fortress, and as much as I didn't want to do it, I had to run with everyone else, unless I wanted to be trampled to death.

  — Arrows — using a strategy that was already familiar to me, and that indicated a preference for saving their magical power, the monsters first rained down a shower of arrows fired from the battlements against the mass of adventurers that was advancing frantically, but these shattered against the solid metal circle that I raised above my head. — Spells — I could not rely on merely decent equipment to defend myself from that, however, and I kept an eye on the Mages on the walls, using my slightly superior Perception to the maximum. I ran in a zigzag, avoiding flames and ice spears. — Now, the stairs — finally, when we were very close to the wall, and my fellow adventurers were pulling hooks and ladders and preparing for the bloody invasion of the fortress, I held tightly the largest investment I had made for that mission, a thick leather-bound book, and without stopping running, I shouted: — Tome of Earth, page 3, activate — and with that, at the same time that the book opened by itself and a single page of it disintegrated into blue flames, a small step of earth sprouted from the ground right in front of me, literally as if by magic. — Page 4, activate. Page 5, activate. Page 6, activate — I repeated in quick succession, losing very little speed, and creating a staircase that, in exchange for thirteen pages, had left me right on top of the enemy's main defensive measure.

  — A tome too?! — A goblin dropped his bow and arrow to the ground to pull out a rusty machete.

  — Page 28, activate — the spell's activation was a little slow due to my very low amount of points in Occultism, with me needing to say that entire sentence, but still faster than the monster's attack: a boulder the size of a head appeared right in front of me, and threw itself at the enemy, crushing its face and knocking it off the wall.

  Roaring in celebration, a band of adventurers didn't hesitate to climb the staircase I had created, and we quickly took territory on the structure's walkway. By the time the last page of offensive spells had finally disappeared, consumed in blue flames, I had already taken the lives or assisted in the deaths of at least half a dozen goblins; I put the tome away and wielded my new main weapon, a stock sword, a long instrument that gave me the best reach without being too affected by my deteriorating eyesight, as even larger weapons would be, and which I could always keep in my field of vision due to its piercing nature. My Strength also allowed me to wield it with a single hand, and thus still carry a shield or other equipment.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  — Magic really is an overkill — I commented to myself.

  From then on, I did not volunteer to advance in front of the “formation” of adventurers, retreating to their rear. Fortunately, no one seemed to notice my slowdown, and some were even happy about it, no doubt thirsty for the glory that, for them, I had monopolized up to that point: eager for promotions, special rewards for the heads of the commanders, the respect of their comrades and the satisfaction of humiliating the soldiers of the army, the adventurers opened the gates and quickly proceeded through the courtyard towards the face-shaped fortress.

  — They don't exactly look like veterans — I thought to myself, crouching next to one of the enemy corpses, examining it while I waited for my fellow adventurers to break down the doors of the buildings, or at least make the enemies spend the last of their remaining magical energy. — Even for goblins, they are very poorly equipped, malnourished, and it is quite possible that their Levels are even below average for their species.

  — Expert adventurer, Haicard of Wrong Way — I heard a voice that was curious and judgmental in equal measures behind me.

  — Commander — I bowed slightly to the Knight who was addressing me, the same one who had ordered us to advance in front of the army.

  — It is still too early to loot the bodies, the fort is not yet ours. Besides, all the objects within this wall belong to the Holy Kingdom of Fanon... and also to the Duchy of the Spotmark, of course — he downplayed the importance of half the soldiers he led in this joint operation naturally, but as frustrated as the Duchy's armed forces might be, it was a fact that Fanon held unchallenged power, not only hosting the highest clergy of the Jornadism Church, but also monopolizing every Hero that had ever existed. — In any case, taking them would be theft. You don't want to lose your hand, do you?

  — No, sir commander. If you'll allow me, then, sir commander, I must return to combat — bowing a second time, I quickly shot toward the tall building ahead.

  It was a curious structure, with smooth walls of white stone fashioned in honour of a vanished ancient champion of God, whose short hair served as a roof, his stern eyes as windows, and his mouth before his square jaw as an entrance.

  Fortunately, my fellow adventurers had already broken down the fortress doors, and so the enemies had retreated to some corner deeper inside the building, a more fortified position, and I did not need to take cover from a hail of projectiles on my way across the courtyard.

  — Okay, if I were a Shadow Baron, where would I stand? Obviously, at the highest point of the building — I went in the opposite direction, to one of the ends of the structure. Without encountering a single enemy in that isolated corner, despite hearing clashes coming from other wings, I reached one of the four towers at the end of the fortress and came across an... uncomfortable scene. — Are they fleeing? Are these the survivors of the City of the Abyss? — A long line of goblins, orcs and other monsters advancing in a hurry towards the Sangria Desert, visibly exhausted, malnourished and mistreated, most of them still smaller than the average of their species. — So, the forces that remained here are just buying time for their weaker compatriots to flee?

  Immediately, multiple battles came flooding back to me: when the hobgobling ripped out his own guts to put an end to me in the name of his master, or when that goblin who had watched me kill all his friends and suddenly came at me with power beyond what he should have been capable of, or when my late friend Conrad had faced a superior number of enemies all at once in order to avenge our mutual friend.

  — It's not superstition, but this kind of encouragement really does make people stronger... and considering we're talking about a Baron here-

  “BOOM!”, suddenly, an explosion shook the entire structure of the fortress, interrupting my monologue.

  — What was that? They wouldn't be trying to knock down the entire building to kill the Baron, would they?!

  I didn't even have time to worry about that possibility, as two pairs of feet stomped from around the bend at the end of the hallway, reaching right where I was standing.

  — We shouldn't leave the Baron alone! — commented a tall orc wearing worn steel armor, and wielding an axe with a dull and jagged blade, all the imperfections of a piece of equipment that had once been of quality shining under the light of a fancy chandelier, ironically.

  — The Baron can defend himself! We need to fulfill our mission and get- — a second orc of similar height and equipment, but carrying a rusty mace in his hands, replied, until he noticed my presence. — The box in the basement. But not before dealing with this rat!

  — H-How about we negotiate? — I said something that sounded pathetically familiar to me, but in response, the orcs advanced on me at full speed and raised their weapons above their heads.

  The axe came from the left, and the club from the right: I took a step back, and pressed myself against the wall, just as the orcs must have wished. The one wielding the axe prepared for a second blow, while the one with the mace waited, offering protection to his companion. I did not sit still for my death, however, and before the blade fell upon me I sprang against the wall to my right, and from it I leapt forward and upward again, reaching the chandelier in the ceiling.

  — You monkey-! — Before the orc could finish his insult, I cut his face through the opening in his horned helmet, sliding my blade over his right eye and cheek on the same side as I swung to the ceiling, and landed right on my enemies' backs. — Aargh!

  Due to my wounds still healing, I had chosen not to work with poisons before that mission, but knowing that otherwise, the orc would already be greatly weakened, it was somewhat frustrating. In any case, that was not the case, and while I preferred to finish at least one of them off as quickly as possible, I knew that the other would not allow it: I pretended to lunge at the blinded orc in one eye, and when his axe-wielding companion placed himself between the two of us, quickly and with a trick of the wrist, I changed the trajectory of my blade to pierce the tendons of his right hand through the burst chainmail that failed to protect him.

  — Kuargh! — The axe slipped from the orc's grip, his fingers and hand becoming useless and limp, and the blade of the weapon dug into his own foot as he fell, his foot protected only by a leather boot so worn it was as thin as silk. — You wretched little elf! I'll rip your skin off and plunge you into burning coals!

  Again, however, there were no openings to advance against the wounded opponent, since his companion had already recovered from the shock and was positioned to defend him.

  Even though I had significantly weakened my enemies and they were very poorly equipped, I couldn't really fight two orcs at once. So I didn't turn my blade on them: with all nine of my Strength points, I threw a throwing knife at the chandelier above the enemies, breaking the chain that suspended the candle holder and bringing it crashing down on the orcs. Once the monsters were forced to their knees by the sudden fall of the heavy iron apparatus, I quickly advanced on them and finished them each with a quick thrust between the gaps of their horned helmets.

  — They said something about a box in the basement. I have no idea what it is, but if my enemies want it, I might want to take it before they do.

  Retrieving my throwing knife, I followed the path the orcs took before their defeat and descended the stairs, reaching an empty basement.

  — This should be the fortress’s armory. They’ve already looted almost everything from here — I carefully advanced between the empty barrels and weapon and armor racks, when I reached the only place practically untouched by the monsters. — Of course, the magical equipment — goblins weren’t born with an innate point in Occultism, and the orcs were a small minority in this ragtag group. — The few who would be able to use these items undoubtedly took them, but there was still a large majority left... But two orcs alone could hardly make much of a difference in this siege, so why send them here?

  When my eyes landed on a certain crate, all my questions were answered. For it contained two stacks of red leather books titled simply “Tome of Fire.”

  I took the crate under my arm and dashed upstairs.

  — He realized that he won't be able to hold off our invasion for much longer and plans to blow up part of the fort to at least buy himself and his subordinates more time to escape — I smiled. — Ah, not with me here. You already have, like, thirty Attribute points, using that kind of strategy is something reserved for those like me, friend! Otherwise, it would be unfair!

  As I approached the central tower, I came across more and more corpses, both adventurers and monsters, their blood soaking the carpets in the hallways and making an unpleasant wet sound when I ran over them.

  I did not go straight to the top floor, however, as I knew that was where the Baron was. Instead, I stopped my ascent at the very top floor, two stories below the location of the main target of this job. A large window ahead allowed me to watch as the army patiently swept the entire courtyard and began searching the fortress floor by floor, room by room, from its lowest floors.

  — Taking his time to ensure that all the adventurers sacrificed themselves to weaken and tire the Baron, for sure. Bastard — frowning, I moved away from the window and went to the wall, where a small door revealed exactly what I expected to find: — a food elevator. I knew that the former lord of the fort's quarters would have something like that — smiling and with half of my body inside the elevator shaft, I pulled the rope that was responsible for the ascension of the small elevator.

  Unexpectedly, however, I found myself hearing the Shadow Baron's monologue two floors above, echoing down the shaft:

  — Oh, Numiden, King of Shadows, my friend... You took me from the gutter when I was nothing more than a mere scrawny cynocephalus, the runt of the litter, unable to even compete with my siblings for scraps of food, with Attributes too low even for a Level 1 monster. You placed your faith in me, fed me, trained me, equipped me. Everything I have today was given to me by you. And yet I failed you. I failed to save you. I failed to save the legion you entrusted me with. There are not much more than a hundred malnourished ragtag creatures left.

  Tales of a poor wretch whose mentor had been killed, of a monster born outside of nobility who rose through his own merits and represented the lower echelons of the City of the Abyss... I didn't like the direction that soliloquy was headed. Fortunately, the elevator had already reached the door in front of me, so I deposited all the tomes inside the machine.

  — Page 30, activate — placing my hand on the stack of magical books, I activated the last page of each tome all at once. Immediately after, I began to raise the elevator at full speed.

  — But I swear... I swear, on all that has been desecrated! I will avenge you! I will practice every move you taught me a thousand, ten thousand, a hundred thousand times over in the Sangria Desert! I will unite the estranged tribes of that dead land! I will do what no monster has ever done before, and convince the necromancers to join our cause! The Hero has made you bleed, my master, my friend... So I will make this entire continent bleed in return!

  Ah, and there it was. The promise of revenge crowning one's tragic past, a goal forged in blood and tempered with hatred. That sort of thing was definitely problematic, just look at the piles of corpses around me: malnourished and poorly equipped goblins and orcs who had still managed to eliminate a much larger and stronger force of adventurers, even at the cost of their lives. It was best to put an end to that story before it reached its epilogue.

  — Finally — I commented, feeling the elevator reach its destination and the top floor of the tower.

  — Hm? Wait, what's this? My Attribute points... are increasing?

  — Eh? — I looked up, confused by the cryptic comment of the vengeful Baron with great potential to become the future Shadow King.

  Before either of us could come up with an explanation for whatever he had witnessed, however, my trap did its job: an explosion far larger than I had expected rocked the entire fortress, shattering every window in the building and collapsing the entire top floor of the building onto the second-to-last floor, raining down flaming, broken rocks and the charred corpse of some sort of dog-man.

  You Leveled Up!

  You Leveled Up!