William stood motionless as arcs of electricity relentlessly assaulted his body. Unlike before, when the electricity would inflict immense damage, causing uncontrollable convulsions, the pain was now sharp and deep, though it had become somewhat manageable. Despite this, he remained immobilized, unable to act. Fortunately, the bandits could not make a move either, as the electricity enveloping him deterred their approach, leaving them to continue pressuring him with the enchanted blade.
As the lightning lashed at William's flesh, more prompts flooded his peripheral vision. However, the excruciating pain coursing through his entire body prevented him from focusing on them.
The forest reeked of burning flesh, and the air was filled with the anguished screams of someone tormented by unrelenting lightning. The horrifying scene caused nearby wildlife to flee and distant adventurers to assume that some monstrous creature was taking sadistic pleasure in tormenting an unfortunate victim.
The two bandits grinned cruelly, savoring William's cries of agony. The lightning illuminated the veins beneath his skin in a vivid blue glow, while the intense heat boiled his blood within his veins.
Meanwhile, the prompts continued to flood his vision, offering no reprieve.
Suddenly, after a final prompt, William felt his immobilization lift and managed to take a single step forward.
This movement caused the bandit wielding the enchanted blade to scowl in frustration. "This one is tough!" he exclaimed, gulping down a strange blue liquid with effects unknown.
As the bandit finished drinking, seemingly revitalized as though injected with boundless energy, the lightning directed at William transformed into serpentine shapes, turning into writhing lightning snakes that surged toward him.
Though now able to move, William found himself unable to evade the incoming electric snakes. They coiled around him, hissing viciously as their shimmering bodies lashed him with intense energy and crushing pressure.
While the blade-wielding bandit continued his relentless assault, his mace-wielding ally retrieved a bow from the ground. Using William's electrified body as a target, he nocked a fresh arrow, aiming low as if intending to inflict pain rather than deliver a fatal shot.
Amidst the chaos, prompts began flooding William's vision, until the one he had been anticipating finally appeared:
Summoning his resolve, William grabbed hold of two of the electric snakes, their writhing forms sending arcs of energy through his arms. Despite the searing pain, he endured it. With all the strength he could muster, he crushed one of the snakes in his grip, breaking it apart into motes of pure lightning elemental energy.
Witnessing this, the man wielding the lightning blade felt an icy chill run down his spine, cold sweat forming as much from the fear of the unknown as from the relentless drain on his Mana as he continued to attack William.
"SHOOT HIM NOW!" he bellowed, desperation and panic heavy in his voice.
In response, the larger bandit, steady and precise, released the arrow from his grasp. It shot toward William with the deadly speed and precision of a missile from the god of death himself.
But before the arrow could reach its target, William acted on pure instinct, hurling the electric snake in his hand directly into the projectile's path. The snake hissed angrily as it launched forward.
CRACKLE!
The arrow collided with the lightning snake, erupting into wooden fragments too small to collect on impact, and the snake continued its furious path toward the archer.
BZZZTZTZTZTZTZZT!
"AHHHHHHHH!"
The larger bandit screamed in unbearable pain as the lightning snake struck him, coiling around his torso like a constricting boa. Its electrified body burned into his flesh, leaving a charred, blackened ring encircling his body before he collapsed in agony.
Seeing his companion collapse onto the ground with the smell of burning flesh emanating from his body, the sword-wielding bandit retracted the lightning in a fit of fright and, using the last drops of his mana, seemed to activate some escape technique
WHOOSH!
As if he were channeling his inner cheetah, he ran into the woods, leaving a plume of dust and dirt as well as his companion behind.
William stood over the defeated bandit, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths, sweat trickling down his face. The acrid scent of scorched flesh hung in the clearing, and the faint groans of the unconscious man were the only indication of life. The chaos of the skirmish had subsided, no flickers of unnatural light, no crackling sparks remained. William stood there, weary yet unyielding.
A dark temptation lingered, whispering insidiously in the recesses of his thoughts. One swift movement, and the bandit would never pose a threat again. His hand inched toward his blade, fingers twitching with the weight of the decision. But with a slow exhale, he silenced the urge. No. This was not the way.
Kneeling, he grabbed the bandit by the collar and began the arduous task of dragging him through the dense forest. Twigs snapped beneath his boots, and the heavy, lifeless burden taxed his already strained muscles. Yet, he pressed on, step by determined step.
Emerging from the treeline at last, he found two guards stationed at the patrol post. Their faces registered shock at the sight before them: William, disheveled and bloodstained, hauling the charred remains of a criminal across the earth.
Without ceremony, he let the bandit's body drop at their feet. "Caught him ambushing travelers. His accomplice escaped. Handle him as you see fit."
The guards exchanged uneasy glances, gratitude flickering in their expressions. One knelt to secure the man in shackles, while the other mumbled, "You've done the town a great service. We'll take it from here."
William offered no response. He turned away, his steps deliberate and burdened by exhaustion, leaving the aftermath in their hands.
The journey back to the Adventurers' Guild was marked by an eerie calm. The forest, once vast and menacing, now felt subdued, its ferocity tempered by the events it had witnessed. Birds cautiously resumed their melodies, reclaiming their dominion. William walked steadily, his gaze fixed ahead, one hand brushing the pouch at his side containing the precious herbs he had secured.
As he stepped into the guildhall, the usual hubbub of laughter, boasts, and clinking mugs dwindled to silence. All eyes turned toward him. His attire, singed at the edges, bore evidence of fire, and his skin was crossed with burns and cuts, yet his expression was composed, a calmness that unnerved those who looked upon him.
He approached the counter and placed the herb-filled pouch before the receptionist. "Request complete," he stated.
The receptionist blinked in surprise but quickly collected herself, hurriedly inspecting the pouch's contents. Her face lit up with relief. "Yes… yes, these are perfect. Thank you, William. Payment will be processed immediately."
She slid a pouch of coins across the counter as well as a small container filled with herbs required for healing potions, a reward given for most jobs involving herb gathering. With a simple nod, William took it and turned to leave. Behind him, murmurs spread rapidly among the adventurers gathered.
"Did he really take down two men by himself?"
"Look at him, not even a limp."
"He's not human… no way."
William paid no attention to the whispers. To him, it was just another task completed. The herbs were delivered, the payment earned. He made his way toward the exit, his steps deliberate and heavy, resolved to rest before facing the next challenge that awaited him.
The following morning, William woke in the small, dimly lit room of the inn he had rented with the coin earned from his latest quest. The bed was uneven, the sheets carried a faint scent of smoke, and the walls were riddled with more cracks than he cared to count. Yet, after days spent in the wilderness, the warmth and shelter of even such modest accommodations felt luxurious.
He perched on the edge of the bed, carefully testing his limbs. The burns inflicted during the lightning battle had healed into pale scars overnight. His rapid recovery, aided by the potent herbs he had obtained, left him feeling almost fully restored. Stretching his shoulders and flexing his fingers, he secured his weapon at his side, ready to move.
Today, there would be no clashes with sword-wielding bandits, no life-threatening encounters with elemental forces. Today, his focus would be on work.
By the time William reentered the Adventurers' Guild, the morning crowd was already in full swing. The air carried a mix of steel oil, parchment, and stale ale. Dozens of adventurers clustered around the job board, vying for postings. Most paid William little mind, though a few cast sidelong glances and murmured as he passed.
"Isn't that the one who hauled a bandit to the guards?"
"They say the other one fled from him screaming. Must've been some kind of monster."
William paid no attention. He made his way to the board and examined the listings. Most bore the label G-Rank Only, straightforward, repetitive tasks. Still, they offered coin and, more importantly, experience.
His gaze settled on the options:
Collect 10 bundles of Scarlet Moss from the Southern Marsh.
Eliminate a nest of Stone Beetles near Farmer Halden's fields.
Deliver medicinal herbs to the apothecary before sundown.
Escort a merchant caravan through the western gate.
He selected the first slip from the board. Herb gathering might be dull, but it was enough to keep him fed.
The marsh was vile, its air thick with the putrid scent of stagnant water. Each step he took was a battle, the muck gripping his boots as if determined to drag him down. Mosquitoes swarmed relentlessly, their high-pitched buzzing filling the air, while small frogs darted out of sight with every movement he made.
William knelt beside a rock where vibrant scarlet moss thrived in dense, spongy patches. With deliberate care, he harvested the plants, placing them meticulously into his satchel.
The faint notifications shimmered across his vision, marking his steady progress. Though the task was laborious, his persistence paid off, and he completed it within the hour. By the time he was done, his boots were encrusted in mud, and his clothes carried the foul stench of the swamp.
Returning to the guild, he presented the moss to the apothecary representative, who scrutinized the collection with a keen eye. After a moment, the man gave a curt nod and handed over a small pouch of coins.
"Efficient work. Most rookies take twice as long. If you maintain this pace, you'll go far, lad."
William gave a silent nod, slipping the pouch into his pocket without a word.
William's next task brought him to the fields of an elderly farmer named Halden, who stood anxiously beside a ruined plot of land. The crops had been devoured down to stumps, and faint clicking sounds echoed ominously from a burrow in the soil.
"Blasted beetles," Halden muttered. "Chitin as tough as iron, jaws sharp enough to shear through wood. The guild said they'd send someone…"
William unsheathed his blade and knelt by the burrow. Moments later, the soil shifted, and a beetle emerged, its shell gleaming like polished obsidian. It hissed, mandibles snapping.
The first strike skidded harmlessly off its armored carapace with a flash of sparks. The second blow, delivered with precision and force, pierced between the plates. The beetle shrieked and convulsed before collapsing lifelessly.
One beetle was only the beginning. Bracing himself, William steadied his stance as three more burst from the ground, their heavy bodies shaking the earth.
The ensuing battle was swift but grueling. William's strikes became more precise, finding the gaps in their natural armor. By the time the dust settled, four beetles lay motionless at his feet, their dark shells cracked and broken. Sweat dripped from his brow, but he stood victorious.
When William returned to Halden with the carcasses, the farmer broke into a wide grin. "By the gods, you've done it! My fields are safe for now. Here, take this. Worth every coin."
This time, the pouch of payment felt heavier, a reward substantial enough to cover several nights of lodging.
As the days went by, William took on every job the guild offered. Whether it was guarding merchants on the western road, clearing out nests of electric rats in the city's depths, gathering herbs, or delivering letters for overly cautious nobles, he accepted them all without complaint.
Individually, these tasks seemed trivial compared to the battle in the woods, but together they forged his endurance, refined his abilities, and ensured he had food to eat. He mapped out routes through the city that cut travel time, identified the fastest-growing herb patches, learned which pests were nocturnal, and discovered which merchants paid better if he projected a commanding presence.
Steadily, the system prompts acknowledged his growth:
Initially, other adventurers ridiculed him for taking on such mundane tasks, calling him "rat killer" or "errand boy." Yet, as his dependability became evident, his reputation flourished. Merchants began requesting him specifically, and farmers spoke of him with respect. Gradually, the tone of the whispers surrounding his name began to shift.
On the seventh day, William returned after escorting a small caravan of traders. The journey had been uneventful, no bandits, just a wolf pack driven away with fire and steel. Nevertheless, the merchants expressed their gratitude by handing him a generous tip.
By the time he entered the guildhall, night had fallen, and the air was heavy with the scent of ale and smoke. The receptionist noticed him and motioned for him to come over.
"William Black," she said, extracting a slip of parchment from beneath the desk. "You've been consistent these past two weeks. No failed jobs, no delays, no complaints. That's more than we can say for most G-rankers."
Her voice carried through the room, drawing the attention of others. William could feel their eyes on him.
"As of this day, the Adventurers' Guild acknowledges your progress. You are hereby promoted from Rank G to Rank F."
She stamped the parchment with a firm seal and pushed it across the counter. A faint cheer echoed through the hall, partly genuine, partly mocking.
William took the slip without a word, though a quiet spark of satisfaction ignited within him.
He turned away from the counter, ignoring the murmurs and glances. For now, this was enough. He had climbed one step higher, laying the groundwork for the future.
Tomorrow, his journey would continue.
But tonight, he allowed himself a brief moment of quiet contentment.
He closed his eyes to return to sleep, not knowing that outside his window, from a distant tree, a man wearing a cloak that seemed tailor-made to hide one's silhouette in the night watched William as he slept, his eyes squinting into narrow slits as he saw his target once more fall into sleep.