Ominous Tide

For the next three weeks, Chester lived in a relentless cycle of hunting, calibrating, and succumbing to exhaustion. Immersed in the intricate web of different classes, he tirelessly honed his skills, exploring the possibilities of near-nonexistent cooldowns and a myriad of buffs and debuffs across his five reclasses. The Bard path he chose as his latest class, sought to harmonize these abilities. However, the toll of each skill was heavy on his mana and stamina reserves. He sighed, "Perhaps it's this body that sucks at mana management. If I push past the mana limit a bit further, a charged skill might even start to drain my own vitality." And I need to do something about these battles. I can take more damage, but I'm algo getting hit harder, the normal mobs almost kill me in every encounter."

Venturing deeper than ever before, Chester found himself ascending the mountain, when a familiar call echoed in the vicinity. "Perfect, a chance to gauge my progress." After weeks of experimenting with offensive skills, he discovered his weapon of choice—a lacrosse stick. Its staff proficiency combined with the potential to enhance his [Mana Throw] made it ideal. Approaching his target cautiously, Chester loaded a rock into the net of the stick and aimed at the parrot-chicken. Following the well-trodden pathway, he triggered the energy, igniting the small healing core nestled in his abdomen. A brief moment of dizziness washed over him, and the rock soared from the lacrosse stick.

A soft thud reverberated as a small feather floated down from the unsuspecting parrot-chicken perched on a nearby tree. "I'm certain it made contact." Chester prepared to attack with another rock, expending 1/9th of his mana, and hurled it towards the bird. The rock struck the parrot-chicken's beak, causing it to plummet from its perch. The creature crashed to the ground without a single flap of its wings. Approaching cautiously, Chester surveyed the damage. Apart from a slight dent in the beak, the bird seemed unharmed. Upon closer inspection, he noticed that the initial rock had pierced through its ribcage, shattering the energy core within. That, he presumed, led to its demise.

After meticulously dismantling and storing his spoils, Chester decided to hike to the mountain's summit to catch a glimpse of what lay beyond. A peculiar stillness hung in the air, engulfing the forest in an eerie silence. As he ascended to the peak, his gaze descended upon an unsettling sight, a dark fog hovering just above the ground. The sound of flapping wings startled him, prompting him to seek refuge beneath a boulder shielded by the embrace of tree roots.

The creature that emerged had a reptilian body, adorned with bat-like wings, a furry face, and a child-sized gray humanoid riding on its back. "Goblins!" Chester surmised that a goblin camp must be nearby. Stealthily descending the mountain, he carefully maneuvered through the dense foliage, ensuring to remain hidden. After sneaking for 40 minutes, he stumbled upon a sight that sent a chill coursing through his veins—an assembled battalion of at least a thousand goblins, standing in formation.

Just as Chester contemplated a swift retreat, his ears caught the familiar sound of the language spoken by the NPCs in Brave. Instinctively, his muscle memory and acquired linguistic knowledge from playing the game were etched in him. "The cult has no use for those incapable of withstanding the Demonic Qi, those who succumbed to Qi deviation are trash, you have one chance. Lay waste to the wildlife. Prove your worth by bringing back beast cores, and perhaps you'll earn another week of your pitiful existence." The resounding war cry of thousands of goblins pierced the air, gripping Chester's heart. "I must flee!" Determined to avoid a confrontation with the goblins, he retraced his steps toward his cabin, contemplating seeking refuge in the nearby village. "If all else fails, I'll grab a door and reenact Titanic in the river."