It all amounted to nothing. The fighting. The will to survive. The sacrifices, numerous and uncountable. The caravan caught again. A bigger group in front of it this time. Trapped.

Enoch lost in the moment. In the zone. Dubstep blasting, the beat dropping with each Blink, one corner of the battlefield to the other, slicing armor, hides and scales with abandon. Minutes compressed to seconds. Hours to minutes. Somewhere in there, a level up swirled around him, barely registered. The Thorny Spook Bark Shield broken long ago. Replaced by two mutant’s weapons, animated by purple light. A long sword and a hatchet. Dancing to the will of the tiny murderous golem core.

It was over this time. Had to be. Eight members of the caravan left. Jarmila, his old crafter friend, dead. Discarded in a corner. Limp ragdoll. All twisted.

The major still going, maimed, burned, bleeding. Unkillable. Drunk for once. No idea how she had managed it. A hidden reserve most likely, kept against all odds for the real last time. Which was now apparently.

She finished an elephant with her short sword now that Enoch had removed one of the monster’s leg. She winced and said, “Stop prancing around with that forsaken pink light, you’ll make me barf.”

Then she barfed. A buffalo clubbed her on the back. Died to a backswing as she straightened up, sneezing sludge from one nostril, blocking the other with her free hand.

Enoch raised an eyebrow in appreciation. Moved on with to his slashing. The chat in full on battle mode.

“Choo Choo Neon Pink Ninja Train!”

“Ping pong death machine.”

“Mince Prince and the sliced-up Mutants.” Tip | 22$

“Have to admit this is kind of cool.” Tag | Little bro

Out of Mana now. Almost out of Stamina. There would be no more Blink. Maybe one last Blitz just for fun.

Enoch targeted a crustacean, his favorite type. The red weird thing flew in the air with a silly expression, shell shocked. It splashed on a cavern’s wall. Showered on other mutants with a boom. An unnatural boom.

Pure white light bounced from one monster to the other, crisping holes in them. The victims froze, dead on their feet. The survivors panicked. Looked around. Boom. The white light, Chain Lightning, came back. It killed more.

Far in the back in the lines of the mutants’ convergence, a grunt rose to a reverberating echo, bouncing, stunning, getting closer as its origin rushed to the caravan’s position.

Anton the healer running as fast as he could, pretty slow, surrounded by green energy. When the shining magic touched an enemy, it knocked it back, almost as good as Blitz. Force Bubble.

Darting in and out of the protecting spell, a Golem Swarm harassed the mutants, powered by pink Mana. A dozen of tiny triangles flew around, perfectly coordinated, carved with patterns lost to speed as they spun. Their sharp edges cut from multiple angles, leaving their target dumfounded, bleeding their last Health Points.

Noted for next game. If he made it out with Choo. Well, his prospects had just improved by a wide margin.

The healer tank reached the caravan. His bubble enveloped the survivors. Ally the rogue came out of his shadow, unrolled a long scroll on the floor which instantly summoned Turner the warrior and Tetsuo the mage.

Chain Lightning rained on the mutants, coming out of a new staff, looking even more overpowered than the previous one. The mage’s trench coat flapped dramatically behind him as he smiled maniacally.

A black glaive, artifact grade, sent a sharp wave into the attackers who were quickly switching to victims.

Enoch looked at the chat with a half-smile. Eat this hater. Art Delvers themselves had graced him with their presence.

“Shit just got real.”

“Hope he won’t be all weird around them.”

“Ok, I’m actually impressed.” Tip | 30$

As the professionals carved out a safer space for the NPCs, the most resilient one recovered and joined the fight. The major with one soldier and Tatiana with her oversized crossbow, shooting at short range, exploding multiple mutants with each arrow. Enoch joined in. Sliced a wild dog in half with his blade.

Turner the warrior and Tetsuo the mage noticed the weapon, looked at each other, approved with a synchronized nod.

A few more high-level skills, a few more Chain Lightning and many, many more dead mutants led a to complete, full-on, panicked retreat. The anthropomorphous soldiers left their wounded comrades behind, whimpering as they fled, often dropping their weapon, using all four limbs, or more, for the run.

One by one, Art Delvers joined Enoch. Still on their high, they stood silent, looking at their fleeing foes.

Enoch said, “and with that, we saved a whole kingdom.”

Anton the healer said with a high-pitched voice, winded, “not bad.”

Ally the rogue said, “just another day of work rookie. You ain’t playing right if you’re not causing a worldwide upheaval.”

Enoch didn’t comment, not sure if she was serious. Went on to loot. He patted the closest corpse, emptied its pocket, dumped the content of its bag. Started a pile with the valuable stuff. One done. Hundreds more to go. He sighed. Might as well be picking up cucumbers back at the farm.

Choo found his shield in the giant mess of the battlefield. He fixed it decently, welded two elemental short swords to it. One blade imbued with fire, the other one with poison.

Bladed Thorny Spook Bark Shield | Shield | Rarity 9

Resist 4 | Damage Resist 4 | Damage 6 | Reflect 3 | Fire 2 | Poison 2

Casts Root 1 | Mana vines immobilize the target |

Duration 4 seconds | Refresh 5 minutes

Cost 25 Mana | Range 3 |Charges 10

Art Delvers disappeared for about ten minutes to establish a secured perimeter. They didn’t leave anything to chance. Obviously.

The pile of loot grew. Far too big for the wagons. There would be work tonight for the surviving NPCs. He would help as long as he could, but Haven Square beaconed to him. As a group, the caravan tended to push the waking hours way too long. Blame it on the sunless underground or the chasing mutants. Or both.

Tatiana collapsed on a wall, said “and who might you be, blessed Outsiders?

Anton the healer shrugged. Pointed at Enoch, “he’s our scout.”

“With an Artifact Sword. One of the best one,” said Turner the warrior.

“I managed,” said Enoch, then stayed silent. The mythical group looked at each other with an amused expression. Enoch shook himself, said, “and that’s the survivors of the caravan. Great folks but the game as been hard on them.”

The five outsiders talked with the NPCs, four of them in PR mode.

The major noticed her hand holding an empty bottle, then the dead mutants. She dropped her sword to free her other hand, put it to her neck to check her pulse. She grimaced, shattered the bottle with an intimidating level of violence. “Can’t believe I wasted my emergency drink for nothing.”