John didn’t want to think the sounds of a rescue party in the area were part of a trap. But the others made him feel foolish for having hope. Still, the venture might prove them wrong. Things could turn out to be alright. Desperation and curiosity drove John off the trail.

“Wait,” Noname said.

John paused just a few feet off the trail. He felt eager to get going, but he didn’t want to ignore his new companion.

Noname hurried to get in front of him. She started creeping through the forest carefully.

Watching her, John tried to copy her movements. It was not easy to do at first, but he saw how they moved stealthily together this way.

Xanhilt picked up the tactic faster, making little to no sound behind John. It was kind of creepy because of Xanhilt’s hunger for… well… meat.

Occasionally, John stepped wrong and crunched something small under him, which made Noname freeze. Everyone stopped moving when she stopped. When she got going again, John and Xanhilt did the same. She definitely looked like she knew what she was doing and was more competent in this area than John.

The pace was excruciatingly slow for John. But he stayed disciplined. Having a military dad was helping him here. Even when the rescue party sounded closer and their voices got louder, John stuck to Noname’s pace.

He could distinctly tell apart different voices shouting out somewhere ahead of them in the misty forest. Men and women cried out for anyone who was lost. They spoke of safety, magic that could help survivors heal, warm food, and freshwater. They spoke of shelter, finding ways to get them home while keeping them safe.

They spoke of hope.

John was almost ready to bolt forward and jump out of the vegetation covering them. It was tough to stay disciplined at this point. Still, he clamped down on his eagerness and followed behind Noname.

It felt like she was moving slower and slower as she got near the rescue party, torturing John. A breaking point was going to come. Then Noname pushed aside some shrubs and moved into a position overlooking a basin, ending their stealthy trek at last.

John and Xanhilt knelt down beside her as they looked over the dent in the forest.

I don’t see a rescue party, John thought. I don’t see anything but a weird reddish tree in the middle.

The area wasn’t as misty compared to the rest of the forest. Above them was a blue-sky day. Below them were thin strings of mist covering the ground slightly. The rise of land they were on dipped down gently on both sides, giving anyone means to get into the basin without much issue.

The area wasn’t very wide. It was three hundred feet at most before melting into more forest. And the distance down was twenty feet from where John crouched. But it had a distinct look to it that made John nervous. When he examined the tree in the middle, he noticed a lone dark boulder covered in heavy mist sitting in front of the tree trunk.

Further, observation told him that wasn’t a boulder. If it was, it was very oddly shaped. When he tried to identify it, he got nothing back. It was as if the mist was blocking his identify talent.

Also, that tree was definitely weird. It almost sounded like the source of all the shouting.

No, it is the source, John thought, feeling horrified. All of the voices are coming from that tree.

The tree had no leaves. It was like a bare skeleton except for the vines and Spanish moss that hung down from the boughs. The branches looked like claws pointed toward the air.

The further John looked, the more uncanny the tree became for him. It was not a natural creation. There was something deeply wrong with it regardless of its mimicry of a rescue party, which dashed away John’s hopes.

“Hello! Is this the place where I can find help?” A scruffy-looking boy walked into the basin from one of the paths off to the side.

Before John could say a word, the not-boulder lunged from its seat in front of the tree.

The boy could do no more than squeal before getting skewered on the attacker’s giant polearm.

Standing nearly eight feet tall, an armored creature lifted its polearm upward along with its victim. The monster was adorned in rusted metal armor with gaps that revealed tarnished flesh and bone underneath. A tattered orange cape fluttered from behind its back. A sad plume of black feathers sat on top of its helm where fierce red eyes stared out of an open visor.

It was a [Shambler Low Knight, Lvl 26]. With its victim stuck on its weapon, the monster turned toward the horrific tree that spoke of aid and safety. John grabbed Noname and gave her a look that screamed, ‘get me the fuck out of here!’

She guided them out. Once they were a safe distance away, John bent over and vomited in the bushes.

That was the first time he watched an actual person die right in front of him. And I didn’t do anything about it. I ran.

“There is a lot of evil in this world,” Xanhilt said shakily.

“It could be worse,” Noname said.

John grabbed her by the shoulder. “How?”

“It could’ve been us if we rushed in there blindly,” she said. “I can’t let that happen. Now that I have someone to exploit, I have to make sure your kindness doesn’t kill you. Or I’ll die.”

“You’re messed up in the head,” John said, staggering away from her.

His back hit a tree, spooking him. He searched for anything strange that would remind him of the tree in the knight’s basin, but it was just a normal tree. It wasn’t the type to lure you into a trap.

John stood away from the tree just in case, feeling woozy. His mind rewound and replayed what he’d seen. The imagery of a random kid’s death flashed through his head vividly.

The image appeared when he blinked. It appeared when he stared off into the mist. It appeared no matter where he looked. All he could see was a lone guy rushing for what he thought was safety, only to get skewered on a monster’s giant spear-like weapon.

There was more to the image. There were sounds of something horrifically heinous happening. John had turned away from it before it got burned into his memories forever. But he’d heard what was happening before Noname got them out of the area.

He understood what made the tree so uncanny. That sort of knowledge was so grotesque, it made John shudder uncontrollably.

Now, he had a choice. He didn’t want to acknowledge that choice, but he could feel it marching up and down his body. From his stomach to his heart. From his heart to his brain. Then back down again. Round and round it went. It wouldn’t let him go easily, the choice. It was utterly mad, but it was as much a part of John as was boxing.

The question rising from the pit of his stomach made him bent over and vomit again. He didn’t have much to get out of his body, but he couldn’t help but hurl. At some point, he had to stop and breathe.

Damn, it’s like going into my first match all over again. I was so horrified I nearly wet myself. But this is worse than that. Way worse.

John wiped his mouth with his arm and gave himself some time to recover. The others stood around and watched.

Clearly, the girl had seen enough terrible things for this to have no effect on her. Xanhilt was a strange case where he showed concern, but it didn’t hit close to home for him since he wasn’t human. John wanted to be angry at them for not feeling more, but he knew that was an excuse to put his anger on someone else.

When you got a problem, you got to face it yourself, his mom would say. Even when it feels like it’s better to blame others, it isn’t.

Thinking of that made John wonder who he could blame. Who could he punch to stop feeling like shit?

Violence doesn’t solve all of your problems, his dad would say. But some problems deserve a strong response. I’m not saying you should fight outside of boxing, son. I’m saying don’t be afraid to do what you have to when push comes to shove.

John chuckled darkly. His dad’s words were probably what had led to him dying by Kevin’s gun. But John felt like he was dumb enough to risk his life again anyway.

“John?” Xanhilt called softly. “John, will you be okay?”

“I won’t be okay,” John said. “Not until that thing is dead.”

For a long while, nobody said anything. John waited for them to argue with him. He anticipated it. Hell, he was hoping they would convince him to walk away.

“How should we go about defeating that creature?” Xanhilt said. “Would it be wise for all of us to attack it at once?”

“I can try attacking it from behind,” Noname offered.

John’s mouth flapped open for a moment, amazed. “You aren’t going to convince me to let this go?”

“I can see this matters to you,” Xanhilt said. “So, I will help as best I can.”

“We aren’t going blind anymore,” Noname said. “If we die, we die. It’ll be sad, though. I didn’t get to exploit you enough. But the food you gave me makes me want to help out.”

“That’s crazy, y’know,” John said. “Nobody just jumps into the fighting evil camp just because they got some leftovers.”

Noname shrugged. “Could be worse.”

John sealed his lips, taking her word on it.

“If we’re going to do this, I wonder if it’ll be wiser for one of us to start the battle on their own,” Xanhilt said. “The creature shows great speed and deadliness. It also seems very tough too, based on the armor it wears. Its level and special position by that evil tree can be an indicator of its power. In that case, it could have more abilities in hiding. This leaves us at a greater disadvantage than what is presented.”

“I can draw out its attacks while you watch,” Noname offered.

“Hell no,” John said.

She flinched a little. “But⁠—”

“No,” he said adamantly. “If anyone’s gonna throw themselves as the dummy, it’s going to be me. I’m the one risking our lives against this monster. You guys can jump in when things get too hot for me.”

Or you can run away when it’s obvious this is way too hard for any of us, John thought.

“This is very dangerous, John,” Xanhilt said. “It’s ten levels above you, and it seems to have special qualities.”

“And it’s armed,” Noname added.

“It will most likely be faster, stronger, and tougher than you,” Xanhilt assessed.

“Yeah, I bet you’re right,” John replied, feeling his stomach twist into knots. “It’s scary as hell. And that tree is a thing of nightmares. But a friend of mine once told me higher-level monsters can be beaten by lower-level players. Especially the physical types. You just gotta fight with all the skills you can muster and don’t lose focus.”

“Can you do that?” Noname asked, her gray eyes piercing through John. “Can you fight with everything you have and not lose focus?”

“I need to,” he said. “And it won’t be the first time I fought people stronger, faster, and tougher than me.”

The last time that happened, I lost the bout, and Kevin tried to bully me over it. John sighed. At least I have my blessing. All I got to do is get a good position for it, but if I don’t…

John sighed again.

He could back out. They still had enough daylight to follow the [Inner Compass]. They had no idea where it would take them, but it was still a better option than facing a known threat like this. He also knew it wouldn’t do any good if he got the three of them killed here.

But I’m going to feel terrible if I don’t do something, John said. And it’s not so far away from me in level that I can’t touch it.

John hashed out some ideas with the others. He was serious about this. Just as serious as he felt when he performed other heroic deeds the past few days. None of it was for glory, or for power, or for riches.

John was starting to come to terms with the idea that he simply wanted to avenge that boy and everyone else that fell for that trap. He wanted to stop terribly wrong things from happening to others. Maybe a mix of both.

What am I? An avenger? Well, he always did like the panther dude and the one with the shield.

After talking at length, John moved to the side to focus on his new WA Skill options. It turned out the fight with the [Jesting Shamblers] might’ve taught him something crucial about being a fist-fighter in Urmatia. He already had an idea of what he wanted. Still, he looked through all of his options carefully, especially the new ones.

[Hard Defense, Rank 1] - Fuse a sliver of mana with your stamina and tense up your muscles. Your toughness will double, becoming more capable of turning away or reducing the damage of physical and slightly magical attacks. Your ability to move will be halved, however.

If John had been given this option when he first got to Urmatia, he would’ve scoffed at the idea. Back in the old world, he was what people called an out-boxer. Those boxers tended to keep their distance from their opponents and throw out many peppering attacks. Out-boxers tended to be tall, long, and fast, just like John. But the world of Urmatia wasn’t a boxing ring.

This place has magic. It has tricks. There’s no way I can account for every surprise they have in store for me.

He didn’t consider himself the type of genius who could predict everything, too. He also knew he was kind of rash as a person, so he had that working against him. Yeah, he could kind of see [Hard Defense] having a valuable place as part of his weapon art skills.

But it didn’t feel suitable for him at this time.

[Ground Shock Punch, Rank 1] - Transfer mana into your fist and punch downward, connecting with the surface. This will shoot out a shockwave that spreads across the ground in all directions. The energy diffuses the further it goes. The closer the enemy, the harder the skill hits.

John was unsure about this option. It reminded him of the gamified silliness of the [Juggling Punch] skill. If he had more points dedicated to [Intellect], then maybe he would pick this one up. He was about to dismiss it, but then he decided to give it some serious consideration. When he was getting attacked by multiple [Jesting Shamblers] at once, he was in a position where this skill could’ve knocked them low. Or force them to back off.

Maybe I shouldn’t discount [Juggling Punch] or [Ground Shock Punch] for how they make my fighting style sound like a game. Game rules matter here.

Despite the horrors he’d seen, Urmatia still lived on game-logic. He couldn’t deny that. So that meant there was a place for these more magical skills. They could expand his imagination of what was possible with his fists. With that in mind, he didn’t think he was wrong to put these aside for now.

This was a game of death above all else. If he wanted to survive long enough to widen his arsenal with more magical skills, he had to stay practical for now. Or kind of practical… he was prepping to fight something obviously stronger than him, after all.

With a sigh, John returned to an earlier skill he’d dismissed.

[Dash Step, Rank 2] - accelerate with a lunging dash to get where you need to go quickly. Bracing yourself to charge up the dash increases the distance and speed. Will consume greater stamina with each successive use without a couple of breaths in between.

Yeah, this is the one, John thought.

The fight with the [Jesting Shamblers] showed him he needed this movement-based skill. He couldn’t fight as an out-boxer in this world. The monsters seemed to stand taller with a longer reach than his. They had weapons that reached farther than his fists. They liked to swarm and attack together, too.

Without a repositioning skill, I’ll get chewed up constantly. They’ll get in attacks while it takes me time to get inside, making it harder to give them the wallop they deserve.

At the same time, Reggie had given John some advice about boss fights. They tend to require more movement than anything else. It made John hope that his stamina could keep up, or he would have to run through a bunch of stamina stones as the fight progressed.

John selected [Dash Step, Rank 2].

He felt some intuitive knowledge about the skill appearing in his head. He didn’t trust himself to rely on intuition alone.

With a bit of concentration, he felt [Dash Step] charge in his calves and thighs as if his stamina was something akin to electricity charging up a battery. It was strange but thrilling at the same time. When he felt like he charged up enough, he jumped to the side.

Whoa! John moved faster than he’d ever moved before. The forest and mist blurred past him. When he extended his leg to stick the landing, he tripped over a root and hit the ground hard on his side.

Grunting, John pushed up onto a knee as Xanhilt and Noname came over to him.

“How far did I move?” John asked.

“About twenty feet, it seems. All within a split second.” Xanhilt looked at him wide-eyed.

“Seriously?” John asked. “It takes a pro runner at least a second to cross thirty feet in my world.”

“These powers break past known limits, apparently,” Xanhilt said.

“Are you going to practice that more?” Noname asked.

“[Dash Step]? Yeah, I got to,” John said. “It’s the only way I’m going to get around that long weapon.”

“You’ll need more than just that,” she said, moving over to a spot in front of him. She started spinning her rope knife around, making chopping noises with every rotation.

John slowly got to his feet. “What are you trying to tell me?”

“Without powers, you have to avoid this,” Noname said. “If you can’t, you’ll die.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Xanhilt said. “It’s because of these powers and the attributes that we can fight these things.”

Noname didn’t respond. Her gray eyes seemed to gleam in between long strands of her black hair and the wispy trails of mist curling around her and her spinning rope cleaver. She was a small thing, but John could feel something coming from her that made his heart pulse faster. He couldn’t understand her clearly since her face was expressionless. But the more he looked into her eyes, the more he felt like he had a blade held to his neck.

John cracked a nervous smile. “If I can dodge a knife, I can dodge a knight. Is that it?”

“No magic. No weapon art skills.”

“Seriously?” Xanhilt hissed.

“Yeah,” she said.

“Alright, let’s do it,” John said. “This will sharpen my foundations anyway.”

Noname flung the cleaver at his face.

Eyes widening, John snapped his head to the side. The cleaver shot over his shoulder until Noname yanked it back for a reset.

Before John spoke, he felt something wet roll down his cheek. He touched it and found blood. Shit, she got me.

“That could’ve taken his eye,” Xanhilt grouched.

“His eye? That was his life getting taken,” she droned. “The knight killed him. But I’ll let him try again. And again. And again, again, again.”

Cold sweat rolled down John’s back.

Noname spun the weapon faster. “Dodge the knife. Dodge the knight. Or die, John.”