It was a sweltering summer day, the kind where the air felt thick enough to chew. My room was a sauna, the fan doing little more than pushing hot air around, but I was locked in. I had one mission: defeating Duke Fishron pre-mech on legendary difficulty. It was a test of endurance, skill, and sheer stubbornness. The battle had been dragging on, and I was deep into my second day of attempts. Each run showed progress, but progress came at a cost. The fight was brutal, unrelenting, and every mistake felt like a punch to the gut.
My loadout was designed around that fight, a product of hours of grinding and testing. I wore Forbidden Armor and Gelatinous Pillion from Queen Slime. My accessories were centered around running movement speed and quick acceleration: Magiluminescence for quick acceleration, a Sorcerer Emblem to amplify my magic damage, the Sweetheart Necklace for its speed increase and honey buff, an Ankh Shield to fend off debuffs, Dunerider Boots for even more speed, Amphibian Boots for higher jump height, jump acceleration increase and speed increase, and a Bundle of Horseshoe Balloons to keep me airborne when needed and prevent fall damage. Every single one was reforged to Menacing, squeezing out every last drop of damage I could muster. My weapons were no less impressive: the Spirit Flame for its consistent hits, the Sanguine Staff as a summon, the Clinger Staff for its debuff, an Explosive Trap Rod and Lightning Aura Rod were centuries of my choice, and the Rod of Discord for those desperate teleports when the Duke cornered me with Cthulnados.
The fight itself was a lot of fun. I could reliably push Duke Fishron into his third phase, but that's where things fell apart. His first dash in that phase was a death sentence that make me stare at deathscreen over and over. Each attempt lasted about three minutes, demanding flawless execution. One slip, and I was down in two hits. I'd tried reforging everything to Warding for extra defense, but it didn't matter—two hits was still two hits, and the grave came just as fast. By the second day, I started using healing potions, but they barely kept me afloat.
Around evening, after yet another soul-crushing failure, I decided to lean into one of Terraria's most broken strategies: the Old One's Army exploit. It was deceptively simple. By farming the Old One's Army event and saving the green crystals in a chest without opening it, I could save the crystals for a boss fight. And by summoning the event again and again, I could stack crystals indefinitely. Each 10 crystal meant another sentry I could place, and with enough sentries, I could turn the battlefield into a death trap for the Duke. I spent about half an hour grinding until I got around 1100 crystals—enough for 110 sentries. I planned to place 40 Lightning Sentries, perfect for countering the Duke's bubble attacks, and the rest as Explosive Sentries for consistent damage. Since I stayed close to the ground during the fight, those sentries, will also deal consistent dmg which will help a lot.
My arena was really good. It spanned three floors, each built from hardened sandstone. I chose that material for three reasons. First, it counted as sand, triggering the Dunerider Boots' passive to boost my running speed to absurd levels. Second, unlike regular sand or its variants, hardened sandstone wasn't affected by gravity. Third, it was easy to get—just buy a ton of beer from the Tavernkeep, shimmer it into glass, then shimmer that into sand to craft hardened sandstone. The arena's design was simple: six sets of placeable buffs flanked each end of every floor, with teleporters linking the levels. I'd also placed dungeon spikes near the buff stations. Those spikes triggered the Sweetheart Necklace's passive, boosting my speed by 50% and granting a seven-second honey buff, but they also inflicted a bleeding debuff that ticked away at my health for 30 seconds. With honey and regeneration buffs, I could outheal the damage, but it slowed my passive life regen to a crawl. That's where the Ankh Shield came in, blocking the bleeding debuff and keeping me in the fight.
By 2 a.m., I was quite exhausted and decided to give it one last shot before the bed. The first phase was a breeze—hitless, as expected. Navigating the arena was second nature by now, my muscle memory guiding me through the Duke's predictable patterns. The second phase was dicier. A shark from one of his Cthulnados clipped me early on, and later, he took a massive bite out of me for 400 damage, leaving me with a measly 15 HP. I thanked my lucky stars I'd chugged a potion after that first hit. When the third phase hit, I'd whittled his health down to 10,000, but a mistimed jump onto a platform ended it all. Before I could react, I was staring at the death screen. But instead of rage, I felt a spark of excitement. The sentries had made the fight feel easier and smoother. I was so close.
I couldn't stop there. "One more try," I muttered, ignoring the clock. The first minute flew by, my movements sharp despite the fatigue. In the second minute, my music cut out, but I was too focused to care. The second phase threw Cthulnados in my path, blocking my usual routes, but I teleported out of danger, heart pounding. By the third phase, I was in the zone, my health full, my rhythm steady. I had room to breathe, to make a mistake. Then the Duke dashed. Normally, he opened with two dashes in this phase, because I was so far away from him. But this time, I was quite close, so when he started he caght me off guard with a single dash. It grazed me, but I recovered, dodging his follow-up and keeping my cool. After a bunch of jumping up and down, Duke Fishron was finally defeated.
My heart raced as I opened his treasure bag, only to find… a Tempest Staff. My excitement deflated. It was one of the, if not the worst summon weapon in game. I sold it to the Golfer who'd just spawned nearby, muttering under my breath. "If I beat him once, I can beat him twice," I told myself, queueing up another fight. I wasn't wrong, but I wasn't ready either. The next attempt ended in a quick loss, my focus slipping. I tried again, and this time, luck was on my side. The Duke dropped the Bubble Gun—my favorite weapon, a beast of a magic gun that shredded enemies and bosses alike. I ditched the Spirit Flame without a second thought, slotting the Bubble Gun into my arsenal. One more fight, I thought, just to test it. The battle was a blur, over in two minutes flat compared to the four-minute slog with the Spirit Flame. The Bubble Gun was excellent, its rapid-fire bubbles tearing through the Duke's health. I opened the treasure bag, expecting the book, but I got another Tempest Staff. I sighed, rubbing my eyes. It was time to sleep.
I crawled into bed, the glow of my monitor still burned into my retinas. Little did I know that when I woke up, I wouldn't be in my room. I'd be somewhere else entirely—a place far, far away…