Hidden behind the trunk of a tree, Ragnar watched the five little creatures guarding the den’s entrance. They were goblins, each about one meter tall, all wielding small, sharp weapons.

  The druid moved forward silently when the green creatures got distracted by a fart. They laughed, shoved each other, and pointed fingers in search of the culprit.

  Ragnar stopped twenty meters from the entrance, but the goblins split up, each heading to a different direction. A familiar stench reached his nose, sparking a thought.

  Shitty developers, I bet they recreated the smell of fart just to mess with me.

  The foul smell not only kept tormenting him but also grew stronger. He heard footsteps, followed by muttering in the goblins’ tongue.

  “Bastard!” he cursed, jumping on the farting goblin.

  The green creature staggered back. The shock alone paralyzed him, making him an easy target for the arrow fired by Skiff, hidden in a bush not far away.

  The nearest goblin rushed toward the druid. Ragnar aimed his spear, summoned a Lightning Bolt, and watched hundreds of bluish sparks converge at the tip of the weapon. The accumulated energy erupted, pulverizing the creature's chest, killing it in an instant.

  The four still-living goblins surrounded the druid, some threatening to advance by swinging their weapons.

  Ragnar picked up on the sound of tiny feet brushing through the forest leaves. The sneaky goblin came from the left. The druid spun his body, guiding the spear’s tip close to the ground. The strike sliced through the goblin’s green shins, sending it tumbling forward just as the others charged, their faces twisted in hatred.

  He braced himself, brought the spear to his chest and, slammed it into the ground to summon three roots that sprouted in time to wrap themselves around the goblins' necks.

  With three targets immobilized, Skiff focused, took aim, and peppered them with arrows.

  Ragnar searched for the last goblin using his druid’s enhanced vision, but found no trace of it. Not wanting to waste time, he turned back to the restrained ones. Two of them had their chests pierced with arrows. Only one remained, but when Ragnar moved to finish the job, the roots loosened and withdrew back into the ground.

  The surviving goblin glared at him with bitterness in its beady eyes. In its tiny hands, it held a small sickle, and the loincloth covering its groin swung in rhythm with its mocking dance.

  Ragnar didn’t fall for the provocation. Instead, he took a defensive stance and began channeling another Lightning Bolt. The goblin, brandishing its little sickle, kept dancing.

  Moments before the cast ended, Ragnar heard a grunt coming from behind. He spun around, and the missing goblin jumped out of a bush wielding a knife, but the druid reacted in time, striking with the butt of his spear. The goblin fell backward onto the ground while the other seized the opportunity to advance.

  Ragnar turned again, the energized tip of the spear crackled, and the Lightning Bolt shot forth, hitting the target dead-on. He then approached the one who’d tried to stab him from behind and finished it with a thrust to the heart.

  The goblins were dead, their green, bloody bodies now decorating the entrance to the Serpents’ Den. Thanks to his Vision Beyond Reach talent, Ragnar detected traces of a battle that had taken place before his arrival.

  Judging by the turned earth and the depth of the footprints, a group of three or four people had fought a garrison here. This was likely the group of druids sent to the lair.

  "Ragnar," Skiff called to him. "Look at these flowers." He pointed to a corner of the woods covered in plants with purple leaves.

  The druid was grateful for having already been initiated into Herbalism. He crouched down, equipped the harvesting knife he had bought at the shrine, and cut one of those small plants.

  Orchid Spectrum successfully collected

  He opened the inventory, selected the newly collected plant and read its description.

  Intrigued by the plant's characteristics, he collected all the orchids in the vicinity. It took him almost half an hour to clear the area, totaling 24 units of Orchid Spectrum in his inventory.

  Satisfied with their harvest, Ragnar and Skiff walked to a crack in a wall of greenish rocks.

  "Is this the entrance?" asked the hunter.

  Ragnar nodded and walked in. Skiff followed soon after.

  The opening was tall, but narrow, forcing them to contort themselves to advance a few steps. Even as a druid with Vision Beyond Reach, the lack of light prevented him from adjusting to the shape of the passage in advance.

  It was after advancing more than fifteen meters that he remembered a spell he had recently acquired.

  Squeezed between the rocky walls, Ragnar extended his spear forward and conjured Will-o'-the-Wisp. The tip of the weapon radiated a greenish light that illuminated the narrow path that had been dark before.

  Now confident, they advanced more than a hundred meters until they glimpsed a distant speck of light. Ragnar smiled, for the end of the crossing was near.

  The tunnel opened into a small, circular, roofless chamber, but all their happiness faded when they realized that more darkness awaited them in the next passage.

  Before continuing, they stopped to examine the chamber they were in. Skiff caught a subtle trace of red. He walked over to the wall and confirmed his suspicions. “Strange… It looks like blood.”

  Ragnar scanned the room for more clues, but there was nothing but the floor and the greenish walls. He concentrated, sweeping every inch with his eyes.

  "Bingo!" the druid cheered as he found a small, camouflaged tunnel at ground level. He crouched down and pointed his glowing spear at the entrance, but the light from the Will-o'-the-Wisp didn't illuminate enough to see what lay deep within the small passage.

  “What a waste of time,” Ragnar grumbled, disappointed.

  He stood up, ready to follow them into the lair, but before he could leave the chamber, a rattling sound sent a chill down his spine.

  Looking back, ten red-and-black-striped snakes descended through the opening in the ceiling, while an orange snake emerged from the small tunnel he had discovered.

  The snakes' forked tongues hissed threateningly. Their tails rattled, making a high-pitched, irritating noise that afflicted the adventurers with a debilitating effect.

  They tried to run, but their legs did not respond to the players commands as they should have. The snakes slithered closer.

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  There was no escape for the two of them. For a moment, Ragnar felt that the only way out would be to fight, even though his subconscious screamed that it was over. There was no chance of defeating so many snakes. He put away his spear and closed his eyes, waiting for a miracle.

  The rattles' chirping ceased. The hissing of tongues stopped. And, with all the uncertainty and insecurity in the world, Ragnar opened his eyes and found himself staring at the orange-scaled snake. It was long, half of its body touched the ground while the other half remained erect, facing him.

  Ragnar took a deep breath and tried to think of a way out of this situation, but then he noticed something unusual: there was a third member in the group's window. Besides himself and Skiff, a snake had appeared, identified by its species name: Imperial Crawler.

  “Blessed be the talent, Friend of the Forest!” Ragnar thanked, raising his arms.

  "What happened? Why didn't it attack us?" Skiff wanted to know.

  “It's a talent of my class. It makes animals fight alongside me as members of my group, but I don't understand exactly how it works yet.”

  The two calmed down. The friendly serpent came crawling to the druid's side while the smaller ones returned to the chamber, which provoked the following thought in Ragnar: It's no wonder that the most underrated class in this game has such passionate players.

  He wielded his spear, conjured Will-o'-the-Wisp, and turned to his slithering friend.

  “It's time we descended into the den of your kind.”

  The snake raised its head and hissed its tongue.

  During the walk, Ragnar read the detailed description of the snake accompanying him. The reason it was called the Imperial Crawler was that the species usually led a group of smaller snakes, which explained the subordination of the other serpents to it.

  However, Ragnar was annoyed because all the other snakes did not follow their leader after it joined his group. Instead, they fled and went back the way they came.

  "It would be so cool to walk around with an army of snakes," he dreamed aloud, realizing how broken that would be.

  After ten minutes of wandering, a distant crack reverberated through the cave. Ragnar shivered and pointed his gleaming spear forward. Skiff readied himself for a shot. The snake coiled in preparation for a strike.

  Another crack was heard, followed by a bestial roar.

  “Let’s go, Mr. Plissken!” he urged his hunting companion, whose name he had just come up with.

  The group advanced through the lair. With each step, the cracking and roaring grew louder and more discernible. After making a sharp turn, sunlight streamed in from a corner a little over twelve meters away.

  Ragnar swung his spear, dispelled Will-o'-the-Wisp to save his mana, and proceeded to the exit.

  The sunlight eventually blurred his and Skiff's vision. Mr. Plissken, their friendly snake, stood beside them, flicking its tail and sticking its tongue out at those battling in a circular arena just ahead.

  “You guys, help me!” shouted a knight in plate armor.

  Ragnar raised his spear and prepared to cast Healing Breeze. Seeing that his crawling companion was standing still, he ordered, "Mr. Plissken, attack!" The snake lunged, sinking its fangs into the leg of the giant who was fighting the knight.

  “Evil… Snakey…” lamented the giant with cadaverous features.

  Ragnar's spell was ready, and he aimed it at the knight. The summoned breeze emanated from his hand and crossed the battlefield, hitting the target and healing 8% of his health points.

  “That's it? What kind of lame healing is this?”

  Ragnar slammed the butt of his spear into the ground and stared at him with a weary expression. Five seconds later, the heal restored another 5% of the knight's health. He apologized, “Healing over time… Got it. My bad.”

  The conversation ended when the giant with gray, decaying skin regained his senses and roared furiously, “Enemies of Mergraff, die!”

  "What? What did you do?" Ragnar asked as the knight dodged the giant's club swing.

  “Can't you see we're struggling? How about a hand?”

  "First add me to your group, then I'll help you." Ragnar then whistled to his scaly friend. "Mr. Plissken, come back here!"

  The snake slithered until it returned to its master.

  "Unbelievable. A fucking mercenary druid!" the knight grumbled as he retreated.

  A message arrived for Ragnar.

  Artic invited you to join his group

  “Thank you.” But when he accepted the invitation, he saw that there was another person in the group.

  "Niki, do something!" Artic shouted as the giant came toward him.

  Ragnar swung his spear and began to cast a Lightning Bolt, but before the spell could be completed, a figure climbed all the three meters of the enemy and plunged a dagger into the side of his unprotected neck. The giant staggered back and forth, trying to cover the newly opened hole from which blood started gushing.

  "Lord Plissken, attack!" Ragnar ordered. The snake lunged forward and sank its fangs into the creature's thigh after a bolt of lightning struck its opponent. "Go for it!" he said to both the strangers and Skiff, who stood still, watching.

  Artic, the knight, brought his flail down repeatedly on the face of the giant as he lay on the ground. The assassin climbed up on him again, knelt on his back, and stabbed him again and again.

  Ragnar leaped forward, transforming into a bear, and used his animal strength to tear at the giant's flank with powerful paw strikes.

  The enemy's health reached 20% before rising up and going into a frenzy, furiously striking everything nearby.

  Niki, the assassin hanging from the giant's neck, was thrown backward, landing on her back and taking massive fall damage that left her with 15% health. Artic, however, managed to retreat, suffering only a blow from his opponent's unarmed hand.

  "Knight, you need to heal yourself" Ragnar suggested, annoyed that he was low on mana.

  “I can't, I don't have any more potions” he replied, raising his shield to block an incoming blow.

  The impact produced a loud bang. The block reduced the knight's health to 10% of its total. Meanwhile, the assassin was unable to get close due to the zombie giant's unpredictable movements, which swung its club blindly.

  It was risky to get close. The only member of the group with a long-range weapon was Skiff, but his hands were shaking, causing him to miss half the shots against such a massive enemy.

  "Skiff, you need to calm down," Ragnar said loudly. "Take a deep breath and fire when he finishes one of his strikes."

  But the hunter didn't listen and continued wasting arrows.

  Ragnar could stay back and conjure Lightning Bolts from a safe distance, but that would drain his mana in a short amount of time, preventing him from serving as a healer. Seeing his scaly friend lost on the battlefield, he had an idea.

  “Mr. Plissken, come to me.”

  The snake slithered towards him.

  "Hey, you idiot!" the assassin scolded. "Now is not the time to—" She fell silent as Ragnar rolled the snake up until it resembled a basketball. "What the?" Was all that came out of her mouth.

  "Whatever you're going to do, do it now!" the knight begged as he dodged an attack from the Zombie Giant, who was crying and howling in rage.

  The druid took a deep breath and said, "Mr. Plissken… I'm counting on you. Please, hold on to that giant and show him who's the boss." He then grabbed the snake with both hands, stepped back, and threw it with all his strength.

  The adventurer's gazes followed the snake-ball's trajectory. It slammed into the giant's lower back, falling to the ground, but already coiling around the creature's right leg. As it latched on, the serpent bared its fangs and bit into his right buttock.

  “Ouch … that hurts…” whimpered the Zombie Giant.

  The three couldn't contain their laughter when they saw that the druid's plan had worked. The giant's fury was broken.

  Ragnar took advantage and summoned another Lightning Bolt. The sparks converged at the tip of the spear, and he threw it before the spell ended. Then he transformed into a bear and charged forward.

  The spear struck the giant’s belly, piercing him at the exact moment the lightning spell ended. The enemy’s insides burst, sending hundreds of sparks erupting from the wound. The attack stunned him just in time for Ragnar to arrive and tear him apart with his bear paws.

  Niki and Artic went in for the kill.

  The giant's life was reduced to zero, and a message appeared for the four players:

  Giant Zombie defeated

  “Thirty rubros… not bad,” said Artic.

  “The experience is also good,” Niki added.

  The two stared at the druid, their eyes showing suspicion.

  "You play too well for a level 5. Is this your secondary account?" Artic asked.

  Ragnar crouched down, whistled to the snake, and waited for it to return to his side before answering the question. “No. This isn't an alt account. I'm just a VRMMORPG veteran.”

  “We are too,” Niki snorted.

  “But I don't go around accusing others of playing on an alt account!” Ragnar retorted.

  "Hey!" Artic interjected." If we thought this wasn’t your main account, it was because of the combo: Lightning Bolt + Spear Throw + Animal Transformation."

  “It was more creativity than skill,” Niki suggested.

  “Thank you,” Ragnar said, hiding his resentment at the disparagement.

  He turned to Skiff. “Did something happen?”

  “I kind of… freaked out.” The hunter looked away.

  Ragnar was surprised by the answer. “But you fought well against the tavernkeeper and those goblins at the entrance.”

  “I know, but it’s just…” Skiff scratched his forearm. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

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