By the time Beast realized the trolls he was supposed to kill were a whooping level 50 each, it was far too late for him to return back to Torintu and reject the quest. Furthermore, he is bound to suffer a hefty penalty in intimacy and public relations should he drop the quest after accepting it like every other quest does. Really, he should have known better and piece together the information he already had to estimate the difficulty of this quest. Xiang Jun had once told him regarding the trolls that attacked Loyderidge, and something that required the scale of a Joint Operation comprising many users ranging from level 30 to 100 to clear would not be as easy as he had thought despite these supposedly being the surviving remnants.

There was not much choice but for him to think of a way to bridge the thirty level gap somehow or another. Oh how cruel reality may be, even if it was virtual. There was much to despair about while the hulking trolls lumbered about in the area before him, their menacing wooden clubs almost as long as Beast’s full length.

Smash!

A level 27 kobold scout that had wandered too close to one of the trolls now lay broken underneath the massive weight of its club. Beast cringed under the imagined pain, even as the troll scooped up the dead monster and ate it in a single gulp.

He was currently right at the fringe of the Hills and all the local monsters had been replaced by the trolls, either chased away or killed by their savage ferocity. From his position, he could even spot remnants of desperate battles on the ground decorated by dried white bones, left behind by players who might not have gotten the missive on the current situation. No matter how Beast look at it, the task at hand was impossible. Unless he had a skill or something that…

Beast suddenly smacked his head in disgust. He did have that kind of skill - the new prime spell he had catalogued from the Seal of the Lord. Providing a 30% flat bonus to all of his stats, it could increase his capabilities drastically, boosting his effective level. Add on to the fact that he already had an excess amount of stats from identifying artifacts and leveling his crafting skills, his effective level would really be closer to low 40s than 23 under the influence of the aura.

Suddenly, the quest seemed much more manageable now.

Scanning around to see if anyone else was nearby before he springs into action, Beast locked on to one of the outer trolls ambling about. He should play it safe and test how he fared first. When it was all-clear, he opened the Vanadic Tome with a flourish.

“Prime: Bloodline Aura!”

A sudden rash of heat burst through his body from his abdomen right after the incantation, followed by a great flow of strength and vitality. Riding on the rush of power, Beast leapt towards the troll and gave it a punch with all of his might. The resultant blow was so great that the monster was knocked onto the ground by the impact. While the monster sat there dazed by the surprise attack, Beast started pounding upon the troll’s body, dealing hits after hits onto the rough skin.

Even with sub-par damage and the troll’s heightened defense, there was no monster that could withstand the multitude of blows that would be known to many gamers as cherry-tapping. If the monster had a hundred health points and he could do only one point of damage, then Beast would just have to hit it one hundred times.

Then a huge club abruptly came out of nowhere and slammed into Beast, interrupting the combo and sending him flying a few meters away. With an indignant roar, the battered troll got onto its feet and turned to face its attacker who too had barely manage to stay on his footing. It took all but a second later for a wooden spear to bury itself deep into the troll’s chest, amplified by the aura overflowing from the buffed Lore Keeper. That did not complete the job however, for the troll was still alive and well, now totally incensed by the pesky human that had wounded it so.

“No wonder it takes a joint operation to do this.” Beast muttered to himself. He had totally forgotten about the main features of trolls. Being a mythical creature that haunt bridges in tales and games of old, trolls are usually thick-hided beings characterized with their large clubs, but what made them special are not their large frames or ugly faces. It is actually their blood.

As anyone who had a basic knowledge in mythology would know, it is said that the regenerative properties of troll blood are so potent that rare potions are actually made from them as part of the essential ingredients. Needless to say, it made them extremely difficult to kill as well as per current situations.

Regardless, his newfound abilities should be able to handle it just fine and the troll was just so terribly slow, having exchanged speed for their toughened survivability. The only problem Beast could foresee would be the reach of the club compared to his fist, but with his agility it would not be too much of a problem if he were to fight within striking distance. It was manageable.

Heading in again for another assault, Beast suddenly felt his strength sap away and his footsteps falter, so much that he would not be able to dodge the incoming arc of the club in time. Panic took hold of him as he tried to jerk his body away from the blow but it was in vain.

Slam!

As Beast laid on the ground in pain watching his health drop from three quarters full to a sliver left, his mind was reeling from the shock and confusion from having his buff dispelled so abruptly.

Someone was trying to kill him! The logical reason why his buff would disappear suddenly was the all-famous dispel magic. Shifting straight into alert mode, Beast quickly took what was left of his bearings and sent out his senses to his surroundings. The troll would have to wait; he could always run from the monster, but running from a player would be another story. Any hostile players definitely had to be settled first. Yet, even as precious seconds ticked by, all that he could see with his naked eye was the troll and himself.

Something felt off.

Had he misread or misunderstood something? A quick check on the aura skill description all but confirmed his suspicions. When it said that the duration of the buff will last for 5% of the consumed mana, it was correct, only that the Prime version of the skill did not consume 25% percent of the user’s max mana pool. What had actually been consumed was only the fixed two hundred mana cost for Prime skills and that translated to only a measly 10 seconds of buff time.

In other words, Beast had deceived himself.

With a groan that originated more from the pain in his heart than his body, Beast picked himself up and glared at the approaching troll. This troll and all of its friends shall become the receptacle for his frustration no matter how many ten seconds it would require, Beast swore on his gamer pride. Nobody in their right mind would dare to come here in the near future because of all these monsters, so he would be able to spam his skill to his heart content.

“Prime: Bloodline Aura!” He whispered with cold determination before engaging in battle once more.

……

On paper, the trolls in Tarron Hills were more than twice the levels of Beast’s. In certain games, killing higher level enemies rewards the player with an exponential increase of experience to compensate for combined numbers likely needed to defeat them. Ages Online is no exception. As result, Beast found himself obtaining huge amount of experience with relatively little difficulty thanks to his effective level with a combination of bloodline aura, his fists and his throwing spears.

As he leveled, the hunt only became easier and easier. By the time he slowly picked off each and every troll from the hills over the period of the next two days, he had leveled up from 23 to 34, gaining a total of 11 levels in the process. His bare-handed mastery and iron body had also improved, bringing the former close to the edge of what all players term as the first milestone in the skill – the advancement to the Intermediate levels.

“Stats Window.”

Status WindowName:BeastLevel:34Profession:Lore KeeperRace:HumanGender:MaleTitles:Troll Slayer

+10% dmg to trolls, +3 to all statsFame:40-Health:1700Mana:1190 (+500)Strength:122 (+3)Intelligence:57 (+3)Dexterity:123 (+3)Wisdom:79 (+3)Stamina:124 (+3)Luck:24 (+3)Bare Hand Mastery, +19% to bare hand damage

Iron Body, +7% resistance to all damageEquipment EffectsVanadic Tome of Artifacts: +500 manaRelationsCaerheim: 86

Interestingly enough, he had also picked up a title for single-handedly eliminating all the trolls in the area. Like all other games do, this virtual reality game offers in-universe achievements known as titles which would display above or next to your name when being checked by other players. In some games, they may or may not offer a slight bonus to stats and Beast was glad that this one does. A simple +3 to all stats might not be stellar compared to end-game titles, but Beast would take anything he could get his hands on at this point of time.

With a buff that increased his stats, any increment in them would mean an increase in boosted capabilities.

Now, Beast just had to deal with a slight problem. His inventory was at present cluttered with most of the trash that the trolls had dropped, ranging from wooden clubs to dirty loincloths. What precious space he had left was filled with wooden vials of troll blood he had painstakingly collected a while ago, figuring that it might sell for a good sum of money or used to make some potions should he manage to acquire the alchemy skill.

So right now he could either continue straight on to the Fort, potentially missing out on selling the loot for some spare coin or he could head back to Torintu for a quick trip to the general store. Or he could actually proceed further to Corelia for inventory management.

Beast found himself leaning towards the former option; if he were to return to Torintu with troll drops in hand, it would signal the end of the mini-event and cause the return of the player population. Besides, he was also pretty reluctant to advance so far to Corelia so soon. On the contrary, going forward into the dungeon while people are staying away from the area might actually guarantee the entire place to himself for some time and that sounded much more enticing that a few coppers he would get from selling smelly rags.

Besides, the clubs could be carved down into spears and the loincloths… well, if cleaned properly might find a possible use as bandages. Beast involuntarily gave a small shudder as he thought about it.

Would an infection be possible in this game? Poison is a common status ailment but infection… Beast decided that it was best that he did not know. Sitting down nearby on a rock, he began to whittle down the clubs into wooden spears.

………

A short journey later beyond the hills opened up into a lightly forested area. Beast found himself at the start of what appeared to be a path of strewn rocks and stone debris. Judging by this, the Fort could not be any further off. It was there the Lore Keeper picked up his pace, eager for a new adventure and new loot, only for a sudden voice to stop him in his tracks.

“You?”

It was sickeningly familiar, but before Beast could remember who it was, the speaker stepped into full view. Donning a set of silver plate armour, the man named Lortan carried behind him a gleaming claymore of steel. Although his in-game name was not displayed in red for all to see like a chaotic PKer would, Beast personally knew of his chaotic history and was on the guard from the get go. By the look of recognition on the other man’s face, it would seem that he had remembered who Beast was as well. Feigning like they had been best of friends, the warrior then approached Beast with open arms.

“Hey, are you heading towards the Fort?” There was a sly smirk on his face. “Just. Like. That?”

Beast eyed the warrior for a while before slowly nodding in reply. He could simply ignore the man and carry on his way, but it would not be a good idea to let a potential griefer out of his sight now that it had come down to this. Who knew when he might be ambushed inside the dungeon should he allow it.

“What level are you to be so confident?”

“34.” Despite Beast telling the truth, he could sense the other man’s eyes focusing beyond him, the tell-tale signs of him checking his character profile. After affirming that Beast level was indeed what he had proclaimed, it became obvious that Lortan’s guard dropped significantly.

“Really now! The fort might be easy enough but there is no need for such suicidal actions for a merchant to obtain loot.” He exclaimed.

Merchant? Beast almost gave the man an indignant yell before realizing the reason why. Of course, to Lortan’s eyes Beast was merely a level 34 human wearing plain civilian clothes. Because job professions and stats are not displayed to the public it is no wonder Lortan mistook him for a merchant class.

“How about this, even though I just came from there I don’t mind doing you a favor and help you through the dungeon. My sword won’t break just yet I guess.” He drew the claymore and ran his hand across the flat side of his sword in a not-so-subtle show of coercion.

The Fort of Lanos is generally one of the level 40-50 dungeons designed for adventurers looking for a little challenge after leaving Torintu. Even through Beast might be a little under leveled without proper equipment, his vastly inflated stats could allow him to survive just fine in the dungeon even if it would have to result in him proceeding one monster at a time. It would seem that Lortan had not been near town for a period of time and thus had not gotten the missive regarding the trolls at Tarron Hills. If he had, he would have known that if Beast was able to pass the hills, he would have been much more of a threat than he appeared to be. Of course, Beast did not say anything; it would be best for the scheming warrior to keep underestimating him.

Reigning in all the loathing he had for the man, Beast nodded. “That would really be appreciated. I was wondering what to do for an escort when you arrived.”

Lortan snorted and gave a mocking laugh.

“Right! Then let’s get going shall we?”

“Let’s” said Beast, hiding a smile of his own.

…………..

As it was before the first time they had been partied together, Lortan the warrior mindlessly charged into monster groups the moment they appeared into sight. Meanwhile, Beast was content to sit back and watch the man power through the ruined fortress with pure brute force. It seemed that Lortan had bought into his own assumptions that Beast was a frail merchant character with zero combat potential, because he had not yet once called the Lore Keeper to aid him ever since they entered the dungeon proper.

Beast was content to let him continue to do so while leeching off the EXP that was freely flowing into his pockets. It did seem that Lortan was treating him like an extra bag though, giving him all the junk loot to carry while pocketing the better ones. Good thing he already disposed of all the loin cloths beforehand; how else was he going to explain that he, a supposed merchant with increased holding capacity, had no bag space left?

For almost the entirety of the fort’s courtyard Beast merely hung back and observed. The Fort of Lanos generally has hobgoblins as its main monster, although they can appear in different types. Those in the courtyard consist of the standard hobgoblin spearmen and the occasional goblin archer at level 40 and 42 respectively, so much lower than the trolls Beast had fought back in Tarron Hills that he almost felt a little disappointed. At least he was not the one having to waste time killing them, even if Lortan was still doing a pretty bad job at it. Eyeing the warrior in front of him, Beast felt like giving the man a smack in the head.

Despite being ridiculously armored and judging by those armor, is sitting at a level in the high fifties, it was baffling that Lortan was having some difficulty handling the monsters, mainly because of his own incompetence in tactics. Aggroing a whole lot of monsters at once was just asking for trouble, even if he had the capability to survive through it. All that resulted was the warrior downing potions like an addict and constantly going into meditative trance for recovery.

One would have thought that 50 levels of experience would have taught him basic strategy already.

ROAR!

After defeating the last enemy present in the courtyards, a thunderous roar shook the ruined grounds and out of the entrance into the fort emerged a ten foot tall ogre, except that it was not a normal ogre but a blinded one ridden by a hobgoblin tamer. Metal spikes connected by chains had been impaled in various parts of its joints, forcing the brutalized monster to obey its rider’s will lest it suffers more pain. Beast could not help but feel wince at the sight.

“Watch out!” Lortan shouted over the commotion. “For his club!”

Sure enough, a menacing spiked club came crashing down on where Beast had stood a moment later, narrowly avoided by instinctively throwing himself to his right. Lortan charged in the next second and started hacking away at the monster’s body. Taking the opportunity to scramble away to safety, Beast stopped by the cover of a stone pillar to catch his senses. This must be a mini-boss event that most dungeons usually have and it seemed that the only way onwards was to defeat the Hobgoblin Rider.

However, the chances of doing so were not looking too good. Lortan could be seen having trouble against the ogre who did not look like it was going down despite the numerous gaping wounds on its body. Add that on to the fact the warrior was still suffering wounds from his previous battles; it seemed that some help was needed.

Should he help the man though? It could be a way to sate his vengeance against the jerk who had griefed him in the past and finish up the ogre when Lortan had died, but did he wanted that? On second thought, he would prefer to exact revenge with his own hands rather than using a proxy. Besides, the reach of the ogre’s club would mean a difficult time soloing with having only his bare fists to work with.

It was with this line of thought that Beast fished out a spear from his backpack and aimed it at the distracted hobgoblin tamer. Flinging it as hard as he could, the spear struck out and impaled itself neatly on the monster, throwing the hobgoblin off its mount with the sudden momentum.

Dexterity +1

Throwing Mastery has increased to Basic 3

With its rider gone, the ogre also started going berserk. Years of sustained torture and being treated like a mule had caused it to wildly swing its club around in an attempt to kill its fallen tamer without care of any collateral damage. Beast idly wondered if this had been the cause of the fort’s destruction as he watched the ogre’s blinded sight get into its way of having its vengeance on its former master. At first Lortan wondered what had happened, but he soon noticed the wounded hobgoblin on the ground and wised up. One smash of his claymore was all it needed to kill the hobgoblin before he turned to the ogre running amok and finished it off with a flurry of successive slashes.

“Heh! Did you see how I took care of them?” The warrior boasted, conveniently leaving out how it was Beast who broke the monster’s coordination. “C’mon, the Fort still has a long way to go.”

“Okay.” Beast nodded as the warrior disappeared through the entrance. He was not really bothered by the glory-hounding. Not because he was fine with it, but because he just noticed some weird symbols etched to the side of the entrance arch and somehow he could understand them all.

“Flee.” It said.