《The Ones Not Chosen - A Litrpg Apocalypse》Chapter 24: He Who Fights Monsters.
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Congratulations! Your Class: [Blank] has reached Level 16. +5 Stat Points.
Clover spammed [Mana Bolt] like no tomorrow, tearing through grasshoppers. By this point, most of the others were running out of juice, no longer able to attack with reckless abandon. The long-range magic-based fighters now had to pick their few remaining shots carefully.
Those fighting at short range seemed to be doing better, but they were also running out of stamina - their strikes and reactions slowing. Clover’s small golems had all been destroyed, sacrificed to keep the others safe. However, his two most powerful golems were still in good condition. Currently, they flanked his sides, protecting him from any monsters that drew too close. They were kind of like his bodyguards.
He fired off another pair of [Mana Bolt]s. One landed squarely on the face of a Giant Grasshopper, and the other missed smashing through the front and back windows of a car. At this point, he didn’t even read the message notifying him that [Mana Bolt] had increased in Level. For starters, he had a headache from overusing [Abyssal Perception of a Fragmented Mind] - the thought of having to read something made him nauseous. Secondly, it didn’t matter at the moment. A Christmas ornament filled with green fire and death soared towards him.
He maneuvered his wheelchair, narrowly avoiding the initial impact. However, as the green flame exploded, it touched his skin, singing his arm. He patted his face. Ah, it also took off half of one of his eyebrows. He’d make the monster pay for that.
Ever since he injured the Boss Monster, the Giant Grasshoppers had spent an inordinate amount of effort on killing him. Of course, not all their members had set their focus on hunting him down. There were too many other targets for that. Still, the monsters knew how to hold a grudge, but so did Clover.
He ignored the burning pain and returned to firing off [Mana Bolt]s as fast as possible. Hopefully, he’d get lucky and hit the grasshopper that had taken to sniping at him. From this range, landing a decisive hit on a specific target was difficult, so he had taken toward aiming at clumps of monsters, that way, he was sure to hit something. He could only hope that it wandered into a clump.
Some of his attacks landed, buffeting a smaller Giant Grasshopper, giving a man with a chainsaw an opportunity to finish the monster. It wasn’t his ideal target, but he wasn’t complaining.
Breathing hard, he landed a few more [Mana Bolt]s before he was forced to dodge out of the way of another explosion of fire. This time he dodged without taking more damage.
Congratulations! Your Class: [Blank] has reached Level 17. +5 Stat Points.
Clover put ten points into Magic, boosting the amount of mana he had to work with. He had a high regeneration with his new Skill, but not enough to keep up with this sort of output. The fight had lasted for less than 5 minutes, and already everyone was running on fumes.
Well, everyone except for the doctor. He hadn’t seen him since the battle started. Hopefully, the Boss Monster hadn’t assassinated him like he had Joe. No one deserved to die like that.
As the thought crossed his mind, a lance of blood tore into a Giant Grasshopper. Clover sighed in relief - based on what he had seen in the fight against the Bone Rats at the hospital, Doctor White could handle the rest of the monsters by himself.
The doctor continued his attack, drawing streams of green blood out of the fallen grasshopper, mixing it with what he already had - adding it to his arsenal. However, the process was slower than he had remembered - weaker. Clover glanced over at the Doctor. His eyes were closed, and his face was pale in concentration. A slight tremor ran through his hand as he worked.
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Clover observed the doctor’s Shard in action through his new magical senses as he launched [Mana Bolt]s at clumps of monsters. He immediately noticed two things. First, the glass thread connecting them took on a red tinge, shattering further under the energy flowing through it. None of the energy reached Clover; he wasn’t sure where it was going. After quickly double-checking, he confirmed that no one else on the battlefield was connected by that fleeting glass thread.
Second, he noticed that the aura his soul cast was compressed, smaller than the others. For someone at such a high Level, he expected it to be larger - that was a trend he had noticed: the higher the Level, the farther the soul cast its shadow. But, in its compressed state, it possessed a clarity that all the others lacked. It physically tinged the world red, altering the ambient mana, casting it into recognizable shapes.
A pencil, a knife, and a sheet of paper - they were downright inviting compared to the screams trapped within the howling wind that had been building in Clover’s ears. It seemed [Abyssal Perception of a Fragmented Mind] shared that unfortunate quality with [Meditation]: the longer he observed the ambient mana the more twisted and demonic its apparitions appeared.
It seemed that the apparitions that seemed so fond of haunting him refused to encroach on others. From what he could see, the ambient Mana took on slightly different forms within each person's dome of influence. Though, for most, it did not change past its natural inert and passive state.
A barrage of weapons made of blood slithered forward, hunting through the monster’s ranks. A slew of blue boxes appeared, granting him partial kill Exp. He ignored them for now because out of the corner of his eye, he saw a Giant Grasshopper sneaking up from behind the doctor.
“Behind you,” Clover yelled, his voice straining. Dr. White turned, hearing his warning, but by that time, the monster was already midair, pouncing toward him. A rush of cold swept around Clover and encircled the monster, slowing it down an almost imperceptible amount. That extra fraction of a second allowed the doctor to duck out of the way.
However, due to the urgency of the maneuver, his concentration broke and the blood weapons splattered to the ground, forming disgusting pools of liquid now that they were no longer magically animated.
On instinct, Clover glanced toward the source of the cold as he sent his golems racing over to help.
Behind him, Stav slumped unconscious in the hotel lobby, his arm still outstretched. Splitting his attention, Clover noticed that the aura Stav’s soul cast was similarly compressed, possessing an uncanny level of detail. Clover’s eyes narrowed as he forced his golems to move faster. He needed that type of power. He needed to unlock his Shard - no matter how difficult. Only then could he survive without fear.
Clover returned his full attention to the fight just as his golems reached the doctor. Currently, the man was stuck on the ground, barely avoiding the monster’s slashes. He took full control over his golems, coordinating their movements, and quickly overpowered the monster. Bob the Elephant restrained the monster with its trunk as Mr. Cat finished the fight with its claws.
The Doctor picked himself up off the floor, dusted off his tattered white lab coat, and nodded at him.
“I’ll finish it this time. Your sacrifice won’t be for nothing,” the doctor whispered, not intending for anyone to hear. He raised both hands as if conducting an orchestra. In symphony, tendrils of blood lifted off the ground, forming into deadly weapons.
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Seeing the obviously dangerous attack forming, the Boss Monster ordered its underlinings to charge the doctor with a twitching of its wings.
“Keep the monsters away from him,” Shovel-guy said, hoisting his shovel high in the air, and using the last of his mana to dig trenches into the ground, slowing the Giant Grasshoppers.
Those around him roared in agreement. Clover only felt a small hint of jealousy at the man’s organizational abilities. He shook his head and focused.
Their fate hung in the balance. If another monster was able to interrupt the doctor, they would likely die.
Firing an unholy amount of [Mana Bolt]s at the tide of incoming monsters, Clover grinned. It would not be so easy to land an attack on the doctor this time. He had two golems and a group of angry humans protecting him now.
Congratulations! Your Class: [Blank] has reached Level 18. +5 Stat Points.
Adrenaline surged through his veins as explosions rocked the ground and monster parts went flying in one last desperate clash; Clover had never felt so alive before. Even when fire rained from the sky and a stray attack cut into his cheek, he still smiled. It felt good to win for once. It felt good to be in control. It felt good to have a clear goal: kill everything that moved and was green.
As Clover’s Mana Pool bottomed out, the spinning vortex of blood-weapons Dr. White had created whipped into the monsters, culling them. Between the combined might of the human forces, the Boss Monster could do nothing but pathetically limp away with a broken wing.
It didn’t get far. A bullet blasted into its side, puncturing its organs. Claire lit it on fire, and Dr. White chopped off its head with a scythe, delivering a poetic justice of sorts.
Congratulations! Your Class: [Blank] has reached Level 19. +5 Stat Points.
He ignored the rest of the notifications, too tired to bother - he could read them later. From a glance, they weren't urgently important. Each [Mana Bolt] had left him more exhausted than the last, he felt like he had just run two marathons back to back. Which, for someone who couldn't walk, like him, was quite the effort.
Without their leader, the rest of the monsters were annihilated without much difficulty.
Victory did not come without its costs; the elite group of fighters from the factory had lost two of their members in the short battle. Considering the odds, it was a miracle they only lost that many, but it didn’t feel that way.
Joe and one other that he hadn’t known would never laugh again. Their hopes and dreams were cut short. As a small conciliation, no one from the scavenging group had died. Though, if it wasn’t for Stav’s timely intervention, that would have been different.
Everyone was injured to varying degrees. The worst of which was Dr. White. Immediately after the battle ended, he had bonelessly collapsed, unnaturally pale. The survivors stood around the unconscious doctor.
“What’s wrong with him? He looks like a zombie?” Paul asked.
Ron knelt down and nervously rested his hand against his forehead. “I don’t know, man. I’m not a doctor; I just have healing Skills.”
“Will he live?” Shovel-guy asked, cutting to the heart of the matter.
“His health is low, but it's not dropping. I think he should pull through,” Ron said after a long pause.
The answer did not come with the wave of relief Clover had expected. Instead, the freedom that losing himself in battle granted slipped away, and in its place, the shackles of doubt returned. In truth, it had all felt like a game - one that he had guiltily enjoyed. But, now that it was over, he had to face the results of their actions with a clear mind.
Two men had died, and an innocent group of scavengers had been tricked into risking their lives, but if the threat of the Giant Grasshoppers had been allowed to fester, the results would have been catastrophic. He could only imagine how much more powerful they would have been if they had waited longer to attack.
A preemptive strike was the correct decision.
Without the Doctor, they wouldn’t have been able to beat the Giant Grasshoppers in one go without sustaining heavy casualties - that was a fact he couldn’t deny. More intelligent monsters were out there - growing stronger each day.
Clover sighed and looked away.
The doctor coughed, and his eyes shot open. “Did - did we win?” he asked.
“Of course we did, you idiot. What took you so long to join the fight?” Miguel asked. Clover remembered him; he had been one of the few people to join Dr. White in searching the upper floors of the hospital on the first night of the apocalypse.
The doctor clenched his jaw, not immediately responding. A branch of leaves shook. His jaw relaxed. “Sorry, magically controlling blood weapons isn’t as easy as it looks,” he said with an easy smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
The crowd of survivors laughed. “Don’t worry about it,” Miguel said.
Dr. White forced himself onto unsteady feet, struggling to get up. “We need to burn the bodies.”
“Wow, slow down. You should get some rest,” Ron said as he backed up out of the way.
“No, we need to burn the bodies. All of them. If some other monster group takes advantage of this opportunity, it would be a disaster,” he said as trudged forward, searching for kindling.
There was some token resistance to the idea, but they had all seen firsthand how quickly monsters gained strength when allowed to eat a human corpse - no one wanted to give their opposition a chance to grow even stronger. A grave wouldn’t remain filled for long; some earth-based monster would dig it up before the end of the night.
In short order, they made a roaring bonfire, courtesy of their last bits of Mana. Everyone stood around the fire as some final words were said, and the corpses were lowered into the blaze.
Clover watched with a clenched fist. He couldn’t look away. Flames licked Joe’s headless form, and the other man whose name he did not know rested with his face twisted in surprise, his last expression permanently carved onto his flesh. The small stab wound in his back smoked as it caught fire, erasing the evidence of his suffering.
The fire wasn’t hot enough to turn them to ash. Still, they burned. They deserved a better send-off, but this was the best they could do. Clover could only hope they were in a better place now.
As the flames flickered to embers, plans were already being made to launch an assault on an intelligent bear monster not too far away from here tomorrow.
If they did not face their fears head-on they would surely die - that much Clover had learned today. With this new lesson in mind, he resolved to talk to Dr. White directly. Clover wasn't a master manipulator - he was sure there was some better plan, but he couldn't see or execute on it.
But, he didn’t think this situation needed a genius-level plan. They were both reasonable people - it was still entirely possible that the doctor was unconsciously using a mind-influencing Skill or was under the influence of a rare monster. At least that’s what he hoped. Clover had no way of knowing for sure till he confronted him.
In the aftermath of the battle, groups from the factory came and went, assisting in the clean-up effort, and building a second, larger bonfire for the monsters. Additionally, they looted the monster’s corpses, taking the parts that may be useful and scavenging supplies from areas that previously had been unsafe to enter.
Exhausted, most of the elite fighting force returned to the factory. Only Dr. White and Clover remained, keeping watch.
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