When the entire world is against you, that is the moment you must be at your coolest! And when your strength alone is not enough, fool yourself! Fool yourself into believing you’re stronger than you are!

  — Will Hunter, Protagonist of The Helldiver.

  ***

  Zayn stood to fight the Treant Captain. Stood was the wrong word, he was being forced to stand there. If it was up to him he would turn tail and run the hell away. But without any options left, he decided he could defeat it.

  Beating a monster twice his size was feasible as long as he was deluded.

  He stood coolly, despite the visible shaking across his body. “You have this,” he told himself, despite clearly not having it. And despite his haywire breaths, he raised his oversized blade too, rising to the challenge.

  Most of the surrounding golems and treants seemed happy with that conclusion, going back to punching each other in the face.

  Others, particularly the treants of the ‘Zayn hunting coalition’ were having the time of their unlife, more interested in watching him turn into noodles than fighting.

  The first strike of the axe came descending down in an arc. Zayn reacted a bit late, stuck in his head inner monologuing. Eyes wide, he raised Hollowfang upwards in an attempt to parry. But a rotten wind struck his face as the descending force from the axe threw him backwards.

  He rolled on the sand multiple times before stabilizing.

  Coughing blood, he stood back up. Vision blurry. Bones rattled. Immediately, the air screamed in danger once more, [WindStrider] warning him of the imminent danger. Bounding sideways, he avoided the strike just in the nick of time.

  Stupid. He already knew treants weren’t the same as the stone golems. Stone golems were dumb, brittle, and rather loveable idiots. On the other hand, the treants were had insane regeneration, and to top it off, were just over the top crazy.

  Laughter and jeering rang out from the surrounding treants as they watched him and the treant fight. He knew what they were laughing at---his massive sword! At nine feet, it looked like Hollowfang was wielding him, instead of the other way around.

  He met its strikes, one after another.

  The effects of [WindStrider] enhanced all sounds. They wormed right into his bleeding ear, disorienting him.

  He stood upright, and breathed in the wind shards that scraped his lungs. He wiped his eyes over the incoming treant for a weak point. Unfortunately for him, this thing had none.

  Not on the surface, at least.

  Its thick red muscles and viper-like extensions cut a menacing figure, particularly because he was seeing two of it, rushing right to it. Thankfully, vibrations told him exactly where the attacks would land. He sidestepped, dodging its incoming slash in time.

  A cheeky sound rang out of its chest, close to a laughter. What was it gloating about? Sure, it had him beat in strength, but Zayn also had an advantage over it—speed.

  At sixteen points, his burst speed could match the likes of Bolt. But what gave him the edge was [Windstrider]. It visualized the weaving of currents, demonstrating the possible trajectories just a fraction of a second earlier. So he could make use of his impressive speed to the limits.

  Perfect dodge performed!

  Bending his body with minimal movements, he dodged one attack after another. That made the treant only madder, chopping down haphazardly, losing its rhythm. The missing attacks slashing its immense ego instead.

  Once it realized all of its attacks had failed to strike him, it let out a wail of displeasure and stepped back. Even the treants in the surrounding had stopped their jeering, shifting to angry screeches. How dare he evade!

  Both him and the treant circled each other, staring at the other with a hint of scorn. He smirked bloodily, and the treant captain completely lost its cool again like an angry toddler. Leaping towards him once more.

  Bending his body, he swung Hollowfang in a blurry arc. The moonstones rolled into place and boomed its velocity. The treant followed, striking its axe down. Sparks flew as the sword met the axe.

  Perfect parry performed!

  With a sickening crack, the degraded axe shattered into two halves, proving no match for his Hollowfang. Zayn stumbled backwards, ribs shuddering, ears ringing from the impact.

  But on his face rose a victorious grin, taunting the treant.

  The treant captain soon turned wrathful, as did its minions in the surrounding. Zayn became cautious again, knowing the fight was far from over.

  Its iron-like claws twisted as it recalled all the vines in its body back inside.

  Zayn ducked and slipped underneath it, in no mood to allow it to do whatever it was doing. But as his blade fell towards it, it stomped, and an immense sense of danger struck him. He leapt back, it was still too late.

  A vine with sprung out of the sand, end shaped like a balde and impaled through his shoulder blade, erupting right out of his back. An immediate, disorienting pain.

  Health under 50%!

  Slashing, he cut the root off. Leapt away with a grunt, creating distance. The treant had no intention of letting Zayn breathe. It stomped its tremendous feet once more, and another vine erupted out.

  He barely cought the vibrations. Not fast enough to predict where it would come from next, but enough to avoid its strike. Just barely.

  The vine’s blade-like edge screeched and went for his head. He saved his head, but his helmet broke in two complete half in the process.

  A red streak cut across his face, blood dripping from his cheek as his face was revealed again. No longer it shielded him from the noise.

  No longer was he the helldiver. He was just weak and loser Zayn, again.

  The cacophony of jeers and cheers stung his ears.

  “What’s so funny?” He shot all the treants a death glare.

  They thought he'd lost. Because he was greatly immobilized. Or was it because they thought he would die bleeding out?

  They would be right.

  Gravefruits didn’t heal bone injuries fast enough, and being in a state of disrepair was…equivalent to death sentence here.

  So what? He just had to win.

  As long as the treant died, he would heal. He would live.

  He pointed Hollowfang towards his disabled shoulder and impaled it with a twist, leaving a huge gash on himself.

  Health under 30%!

  Even the treants went silent, not understanding why he had done that to himself. Was he insane?

  ‘Undying cockroach’ in effect!

  In a mad world, perhaps only the insane were truly sane. The pain reduced. Or rather, his mind became a stable fort of its own, clearing up. A broken fortress he was, but his mind was…clearer than ever.. He noticed everything. Only one of the turtles was still around, while others had leaped away, these frog bastards.

  Yet his plans no longer included running away.

  Raising the blade, he shifted in a blur, dodging one erupting vine after another. His feats synerging with each other to give him the perfect awareness of his environment. And once he was into close quarter range, the treant captain had no option other than to strike him down with its steellike claws.

  Iron met iron, causing sparks to fly off. He deflected one strike after another. But he didn’t plan to get locked in a prolonged battle. He swung down on its leg, shearing it apart. The claws struck him down, leaving bone deep cuts, throwing him back.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  ‘Undying cockroach’ grows stronger!

  He stood once more. His torn jacket fell off, revealing his lone figure drenched in blood. Grinning at the treant that had its legs missing. He spat, “Stomp again. I want to see you stomp once more.”

  Thanks to his provocation, a rotten stem erupted out of it, and flesh took form in an outline of a limb. Zayn pursed his lips and slammed his broken body forward.

  All the noise became a blur to him as he drowned himself in a single minded pursuit—to win the battle. He swung, thrust and swiped, using his smaller frame to his advantage. The claws could barely catch up to him. The vines couldn’t come because he was constantly cutting one of its legs off. And its axe he had long dispatched.

  He had functionally disabled it on all fronts. Problem was, he could do fuck all to it himself. His nine points in strength was not enough damage. Every strike was being healed in real time. He was in a deadlock.

  And soon, Zayn once again felt a sense of danger emanate from it.

  He carefully brushed his eyes across its body, finding the anomaly. Its claws were gaining a black sheen. A black energy was coating its sinous, bony fingers, growing stronger. Was this thing really charging a skill while he was attacking it? On his freakin’ face?

  “Fuck you.” He swung down on the claw, making sparks fly, but they were steel untouchable. Feeling an immense danger he roared, pulling on every single of his fibers to summon all the strength he humanly could.

  Clang!

  The ringing of blade and claws became the sole noise as he battered his curved down, again, again and again with a single minded aim—to break the claws before it used its skill.

  The energy in his abdomen moved unbeknownst to him. Unfurling from the ball to spread to every corner of his body, crushing like waves. Every fiber of his muscles drank it in, all of his existence willing for a single thing in this instant—more strength.

  Strength has increased by 1!

  “Break!”

  His muscles shifted and became thicker, moving like a bundle of shifting wires; calibrating, turning more defined, and stronger with each swing of the sword.

  Strength has increased by 1!

  “Break!!”

  A crack appeared, and the treant finally stopped charging and raised his hands high. Zayn was too busy swinging down to care. He pulled his sword like a baseball bat and swung upwards.

  Strength has increased by 1!

  “BREAK!!!”

  With a swinging slash, he cleaved through its ironlike claws. The catastrophic bundle of energy on its claws found no outlet, and rushed back towards the treant. A phantom claw tore through its own torso, splitting it clean in two.

  Its upper body crashed down with a heavy thud before crumbling into ash, revealing an inside made of fleshly tendrils and one grotesque organ. A single eyeball that was staring at him with fear.

  “Huh?” He spat and put his hands inside through the mucous, ripping the eye free from the tentril. The rest of its body crumbled with that, but Zayn was busy squinting, “You do have eyes.”

  Hate, and rage twisted inside the eyes as it shrieked madly like a cornered rat. And guess what, eyes do fucking speak in this world. He never quite understood the phrase back then. He grinned. “Sorry. Still don’t.”

  With a clench, he burst it like a water balloon.

  Perfect kill performed!

  Level up!

  Liquid and fleshly things dripped off his body as he huffed out hot breaths. Energy stormed in and out of his body, healing his dislocated and torn shoulder, then the claw marks left too, to his surprise.

  This was no longer merely a ten percent heal. Feat [I’m a gamer] had synergized with [Graveborn vitality], giving him a rather unreasonable heal. He was unsure what he felt about that through, because there was only a single use left on [I’m a gamer].

  With the battlelust disappearing, he finally realized how foolish he’d been back there. Why the hell was he trying to cut its claws? He should have fucking ran away until it used the skill and then attacked it.

  [Undying cockroach] was messing with his head!

  Free points available : 2

  “Oh right.” Before he lost the feeling, he moved the ball of energy with great difficulty to put the points in constitution and vitality, bringing them both up to ten. Nice, now all his stats were above the single digit. Except for the bugged one.

  Staring at the silent treants in the surrounding, he pretended to raise his blade, fully knowing his exhaustion was catching up to him. There was no room for any weakness, or the batch of them would attack him at once.

  He had to take them down one by one. He had to make them fear him.

  “Who’s next?”

  The treants screeched back, but no one advanced to meet him. Why would they? He had just killed their boss. These pesky things knew they weren't his match.

  Should he get his class right here? Might need to kill some twenty treants. Not unrealistic as he was surrounded by hundreds of them. But windstider wouldn’t help him if there were a million things to dodge. What class would he get after turning into a human kebab?

  Nah. That would be the worst way to die—

  A sudden noise thrummed out of nowhere—like that of a machine—attracting everyone’s attention. For the first time, all the treants turned back, and looked at the distance. No longer focusing on him.

  Though Zayn was curious, he had bigger concerns—like running the hell out of the encirclement. He was stronger than an average treant…when it was one vs one. Not when he was up against hundreds of them.

  His earlier bravado proved to be a feint as he ran for his life!

  Contrary to what others thought when they heard of his hobbies, he didn’t have a death wish. Instead, he wanted to live more than anyone else. Just not like them—rotting in the office cubicle.

  Despite all his struggles after coming to Eledra, and all the moments where he could have easily died, he felt more alive here than ever. No way he would accept dying so easi—

  “Hop on.” A middle-aged man’s voice interrupted his thoughts, striking a faint cord of nostalgia in him. Just where had he heard that voice? It seemed so familiar, so deeply etched inside his soul, yet he couldn’t put a finger on it.

  He shifted his body unnaturally hard to stare at the source of the voice.

  Raka: Uncommon—Low (Spirit Artefact)

  What?

  He fell down headfirst on the sand. Not caring about the dust, he stared at the motorcycle with his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

  Raka stood in front of him—intact, in one piece. Its sea blue fuel tank glittered like gems under the red moon. Scratches and dents that had once littered its body were as distant as his forgotten memories—nowhere to be seen.

  “Unless you fancy turning into noodles, you ought to get on fast.”

  He got on it without another word. The Treants finally reacted to the anomaly, roaring angrily from all sides. But like a veteran, Raka dodged every attack thrown at the two of them.

  Zayn didn't even notice the thunderous cracks and rustling whistles of the vines. He rubbled the handlebar, still not believing what he was seeing.

  Was he goddamn dreaming again? This better not be another dream, and if it was; he hoped nobody woke him up.

  When his motocycle had broken from the fall, he felt like he’d broken a part of himself. And then the ground swallowed it; he thought he’d lost those parts—forever. But here it was, as beautiful as the day he’d seen it the first time.

  Best of all, it was alive and talking…

  Wait.

  “Why can you talk?”

  “To be honest, I don’t know either. But who am I supposed to ask?” Raka said, voice deep and heavy as it swerved again.

  “I mourned you! I even made you a gravestone! Well, not exactly a gravestone, but…”

  “Apologies, would you rather I go dead again?”

  Zayn snorted. His mind churned at the implications. Whatever in the ground took it breathed life into it? Why? More importantly, were his credit cards going to come to life and ask him for money too?

  God, he hoped not.

  This meant somewhere out there, there were races of transforming machines—all with the capacity to turn into anything—even humanoids. Was Raka going to become that?

  He eerily laughed at the mental image of a grumbling middle-aged robot man.

  “You ought to give up on that idea.” Raka harrumphed, avoiding a stone in the front with a sweeping motion.

  “Wait, can you hear my thoughts?” Zayn asked, puzzled. Even though he treated the bike like family, that thought still made him uncomfortable. Moreover, he’d be worried about Raka if that was the case.

  “Let’s just say…I’ve been exposed to your browser history.”

  “What are you talking about?! I never searched for that kind of stuff! You make it sound weird. Also, what??”

  The round speedometer transformed into a rectangular digital screen. Zayn gaped, recognizing the shape of his phone. He stared at the screen.

  If transformers were real, they could just pee diesel and sell it for cash.

  Could Bikes be installed with AI and nanotech in the future?

  How much would a theoretical batmobile cost to make?

  Why is it illegal to own a baby bear?

  The Art of Manipulation pdf

  Redness flashed on Zayn’s cheeks. Thankfully, the skies were already bleeding red, sparing himself from the embarrassment. He stared away. “Drunk searches! Those are drunk searches!”

  Though, why did the phone and motorcycle merge together? He hadn’t really buried it together with the motorcycle. Rather…he’d forgotten about his phone, entirely.

  Whatever. There were a lot of other, bigger things to worry about.

  The phone screen changed once again, spreading open a grey map. The topology of the desert showed up, full of blue paths and red dots surrounding it.

  “Time for some payback,” Zayn whispered, shooting towards one of the roads with fewer red dots. Rolling Raka’s chains around his fist, the sword in his hand, he readied itself.

  “Is that my chain? Give it back!” Raka growled, twisting its head angrily.

  “Don’t be stingy, Oldie! You’re doing just fine without it.”

  “I was born a few hours ago!”

  “Naw. Do you even hear yourself speak? You are double my age!”

  Not far away from them, he saw another two fighting. He revved the bike hard, moving towards them at a breakneck speed.

  Undead Treant, Lv-09

  Stone golem, LV-11

  Bending Raka, Zayn sent a mighty upward slash and cut down both of them in a flash. Then one more. Again and again.

  Eventually, he just threw hollowfang inside, just enjoying the feel of using his fists to ram through the golems. His hands turned into a mush, but there was too much adrenaline coursing his veins for it to make any difference.

  Over and over, he burst through them until he was there.

  Ding! Level up!

  You’ve reached level 10! Class quest completed.

  By now, nearly every joint of his body threatened to break down. But the grin never left his face. He sped to a quieter edge of the desert, where battles were less frequent.

  Cranking his neck, Zayn stared at the humongous red moon that took up one-fourth of the sky. What happened to the other stars? Did the moon eat them all up?

  At first, he’d thought he had been devoured by the ground while sleeping, and this was the world inside. He had quickly denied it. Even to him, that theory had sounded too outlandish. Thus, he went with his other, more plausible theory; the dungeon had two distinct, separate phases.

  Day and night.

  During the day, the trees were stationary, no different than real trees. They even bore gravefruit…and the stone golems ran the hood. At night, however, the trees lived as undead, rising from the depths of the land. And land itself…that was a whole another issue.

  But why were they all fighting? Was it on instinct, or was it over something more?

  Interesting.

  After a while, he stopped lampooning. Whatever this dungeon was, he’d get to the end of it all. But that could wait for later.

  Class choice available!

  Right now, he had something else to do.