Goblin Wave 2

[You are Dead]

The red system screen floated in the air in front of Rivyn as the words seared themselves into his brain: Died. Again. Rivyn was barely able to fathom what happened; his heart was racing, and smoldering muscles were not a help at all. His mind swam in darkness, not being able to break out of this vicious circle.

Rivyn tried to move, but his body didn't move-trapped inside of him, he could only watch the red letters dance before him. The cool panic began welling up in his chest. He wanted to scream, lash out, but before even being able, another message appeared:

Restarting.

A few moments later, Rivyn was back into the white void; his body materialized, like nothing had happened. He looked around, his breathing shallow and uneven. His heart pounded hard, not because of exertion but because of a lingering fear. I just died, he thought. Their memory of attack still rung in his head because his brain remembered the feel of their blades piercing his skin, the burning agony of his life leaving him.

I never want to feel that again, he thought shaking.

He had sought immediately to check on his condition, somehow expecting an improvement-something that would make this nightmare worth it.

[Rivyn - None]

[Level - 0 (Level is only available when you reach F-rank)]

[Strength - 21]

[Agility - 17]

[Defense - 15]

[Mana - 5]

[Unallocated Stats - 0]

Nothing was different. He was no stronger. He knew nothing new. All his attributes were the same: strength, agility, defense-no more and no less. And then, the hopelessness kicked in.

But before he could even consider his situation, a sensation arrived.

A goblin stood in front of him.

Rivyn tensed as the all-too-familiar green figure plunged toward him-the small blade alight with eerie white light. Time for no thought. Only fight.

Rivyn launched himself at the goblin without holding back; his mind finally shut down; he was on automatic now. Aside went the goblin's blade, aside went its lunge, and in went his own sword into the neck. It fell, its body disappearing into the void.

He huffed hard; his heart was still racing hard. That was easier.

No sooner had he caught his breath than two others suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

Rivyn balled his fists as his mind grasped for the pattern of it: It was happening again-for every wave he fought, the next would spawn in stronger and more than the last. He knew what was coming, and yet knowing made it no easier.

A surge of fear overwhelmed him as the two goblins charged at him now, and Rivyn began to shake all over. He had been through this before; the fear of dying again overwhelmed him. He could still feel the sharp pain from the last time, how the goblins tore him apart, and his body instinctively recoiled from the memory.

His grip on the sword loosened; the movement was slower, less sure. The goblins closed the distance more quickly than he'd have thought possible. One sliced across his chest, the pain suddenly raging through him like fire. He barely deflected the second; his defense was too weak. The blade of the goblin cut deep, and before Rivyn might recover—

[You Have Died]

Rivyn was once again within the white void, the old message taunting him:.

He let out a long frustrated scream. Why?! Why did it have to be his life? All he had wanted was to get stronger, survive, make money enough to protect himself, was that too much to ask?

All that frustration had chewed on his mind, being hostage to such an end unreprieved. It just couldn't be real. It just couldn't be happening. But it was. Constantly.

[Reviving...]

Rivyn's breath caught again, materializing in the blank white space once more, his heart wrenched out by frustration, fear, and exhaustion. His fists were balled tightly as he willed himself not to stop, even as every fibre of his being was yelling at him to quit.

Again, there was a goblin in front of him, just like before.

This time Rivyn didn't bother to think. His head was filled with useless thoughts, panic, frustration, fear of the pain. The goblin charged at him and Rivyn's body moved without a conscious thought on his part, but not quick enough. His head wasn't in the fight, and that lethargic reaction cost him dear.

It sliced across his torso, and with a shriek of agony he fell back, his sword raised barely in time. And in that instant, before he could get back onto his feet once more, the goblin struck again - and that blow was deadly.

[You Have Died]

[Reviving...]

Rivyn materialized in space once more, his heart heavy, his mind spilling over with despair. Why am I doing this? he thought, bitter. What's the use?

Every death was agony, every revival placing him right back where he started-no progression, no reward. He wasn't getting stronger, he wasn't earning experience, wasn't learning from his mistakes. There had been death, and then more death, mounting into this pain-and-frustration cycle.

But he couldn't stop; the System wouldn't let him.

Rivyn centered himself again in one conscious act. "Unless I pull it together, I could be here for eternity.".

He fought as if his life depended on it-which, for all reasons and purposes, it did. He had overcome the few first waves, and his hands shook, but the man would go on. Sharp and exact, the movements cut through goblins as his arms could canter all his might onto.

When he reached the wave of ten goblins, his body was sore, but he pressed on. He worked himself hard to find a way to dodge each and then weave around each of the goblins' attacks so he could outsmart them.

It was all just too much.

The goblins were quicker, better coordinated. Rivyn's strength was failing, he couldn't keep this up much longer. From the side came another goblin in striking and slashing at his leg. A third slashed him across the back and Rivyn screamed as he dropped to the dirt.

They mobbed him.

[You Have Died]

[Reviving...]

No matter how fiercely he fought, it would be the same thing: he'd just end up dying again and again, returning every time, weaker and more desperate.

His hands shook as he found himself once more in the void. What am I doing? Rivyn's mind would seem to spiral. I'm not growing stronger, and neither am I learning. I'm dying. No chance to get away, no escaping this vicious circle at all. And thus, he had come seeking strength in the Tower and was thrown upon their wheels of death and resurrection without any stop.

What was the use? Rivyn's chest constricted. What was there to do? The successive couple of waves started to blur together in continuum for him: fight, die, revive, repeat ad nauseam. Pain was an old friend, a constant that was always there to greet him after a battle, an eternal battering of the goblins that broke him bit by bit.

Each time he revived, the weight of his hopelessness grew heavier. His hands shook, his mind fractured. There's no way out of this, he thought, his resolve cracking. I'm never going to escape. With every death, another thread of his lifted off from the fabric of hope, edging a little further down the chasm of despair. He wasn't getting stronger; he wasn't learning. It seemed he was caught within some tortuous cycle simply designed to break him. What to do then? What was to be done? There-lay no other choice for him but to take on and take on till the end against the inevitable.