Forged Destiny [Book 7: Ch. 12]

The Ranger cursed and reached for his bow, suddenly recalling the last fight. He was still twenty or so feet away, a vast distance by the standards of a man who was struggling to stand, let alone sprint. I fixed my bleary eyes on the Ranger and concentrated.

My Class shifted. My mind cried out in agony.

"P-Piercing Thrust."

My body lunged, even if my legs didn't have the strength for it. They still went through the motions, but more because the body had lunged, and they wanted to keep up. My muscles burned and the wound on my leg tore open, spilling more blood onto the sand.

The hooked sword impacted the Ranger's leather armour and cut through it. In the same motion, the sword broke – too flimsy to hold up to even a single solid My free hand snatched out, latching directly over the Ranger's face. The sword had never been the end here, only a means to close the distance while my body failed me.

"I'm sorry," I whispered as the man's face, skull and brain melted.

His body fell to the floor with a limp flop.

More Exp. Not enough to level, only about half a level. He'd been weaker than me, lower-levelled, seeking the payoff that came from slaying a Hero a higher level than himself. I hated that I could judge that by the Exp gained.

—Forged Destiny [Book 7: Ch. 12]