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The Apocalypse Grinder - Chapter 111
🕑 Added 2025-07-18 01:28:35 +0000 UTC<< Chapter 110 | Index | Chapter 112 >>
An insidious purple glow crept up the shaman’s bone staff, inching towards the black, void-like crystal that sat in the skeletal hand at its tip. Ronan suspected that once the light gathered there, the goblin’s curse would be complete.
He couldn’t let that happen if he was to go on from this battle and complete the rest of stage 4. Not that he wouldn’t be able to try again as many times as necessary until he accomplished that goal, but the gratification of doing it on his first real attempt was something he could only achieve in this iteration.
He noticed his momentum had recovered, but there were barely any gains. It made little sense, unless there was a hidden penalty for not striking the truly intended target.
Without enough stamina to use charge of the juggernaut again, Ronan was forced to return to regular combat. He raised the mace, once he had it under control, and advanced on the shaman.
The elite goblin knew it had the advantage. It backed away, continuing to mutter in its garbled language while preparing its curse.
The staff seemed to come to life as the ominous energy gathered. Ronan swore the fingers at the tip of the staff started to curl tighter around the black crystal.
Putting everything he had into one final burst of speed, Ronan crossed the remaining distance between himself and the shaman, right as the energy reached the crystal. He swung the bonecrusher mace, activating all of his skills.
The crunch of iron against bone rang out at the same moment an arc of purple lightning shot out from the staff. Like a crash-test dummy, the shaman flew into the stone wall, its body plastered against the brick. Guts and blood squelched out on impact, at the same moment as the cursed lightning struck Ronan’s chest.
Inside his body, he felt as though a civil war had erupted. The corruption of the dark mana had spread during the fight, and his skin was a mess of pulsating black veins, necrotic flesh, and now eerie purple scars.
That rot fought against the rejuvenating wave of the level-up restoration, but it was a losing battle for the curse and the darkness. The voodoo of a mere level 29 goblin shaman was far from a match for the almighty power of the system.
However, it was the longest, most painful healing process that Ronan had ever experienced. He relished it.
The pain meant that he was still breathing; that he’d not only won the battle, but emerged ready to fight another.
As the final sting faded from his flesh, Ronan sat down against the wall on the opposite side of the goblin’s corpse. As he watched, it slid down and crumpled against the ground with a wet splat.
Despite it being a horribly gruesome sight, Ronan chuckled. “Fucking goblins,” he muttered to the corridor. Then he glanced towards the depths, beyond where the shaman had been hiding. When he saw nothing except dancing shadows, he let out a sigh of relief.
Inadvertently, he’d let his guard down after defeating the shaman, before checking that it actually was the last of the goblins he needed to defeat in this particular part of the corridor. Thankfully, it had been.
Ronan had no doubt there were more enemies waiting for him up ahead, but for now he was content to let the adrenaline leave his system. He had stat points to spend, and kill notifications to relish in. Perhaps even some juicy loot.
You have killed [Elite Goblin Rogue Lv.25] x2 and [Elite Goblin Shaman Lv.29]!
+790 Copper Credits
+21 [Mace] Mastery
+14 [Stamina II] Mastery
+19 [Momentum I] Mastery
+9 [Health I] Mastery
+7 [Mana II] Mastery
+16 [Anti-Magic] Mastery
+22 [Breath] Mastery
+Rekk’s Spineslicer Lv.25 (Uncommon)
+Bone Charm Lv.29 (Uncommon)
+Goblin Toes (Common) x3
You have leveled up to Lv.27!
You have leveled up to Lv.28!
You have leveled up to Lv.29!
You have been restored x2!
+3 Vitality
+15 Endurance
+6 Resistance
+12 Strength
+12 Tenacity
+6 Free Stat Points
Rekk’s spineslicer turned out to be one of the daggers that the goblin rogues had used. The name, and the savage blade itself, reminded Ronan of thurg’s razorspear—the weapon he’d first used to damage Magriz’al the Crazed.
Flipping it a few times in his hands and testing the weight with a few practice stabs and slashes, he found it was a good fit. However, he would still use the mace as his main weapon until it was no longer feasible.
One, because he wanted to try for the first tier of mace mastery while he still had the opportunity—who knew if it held any benefits that might apply to other weapons—and two, because it was sure to pack a harder punch than the little dagger. Simple maths.
As for his stat points, Ronan split them between agility and dexterity again. He was gaining plenty of strength from his class and he was no longer struggling to swing the mace.
More speed and manoeuvrability were the best options to improve his power immediately. Oddly, he noticed that for the first time ever his stats now had decimal points. The culprit was obvious.
When he’d used mineral skeleton to absorb the material of the system-created walls, the low efficiency of the absorption had resulted in his gains being measured in fractions of stat points. Frankly he’d expected the system to simply rob him blind, round down, and give him the points to the lowest whole digit, but he was glad to see that wasn’t the case.
More than the stats, the all-damage resistance and the energy absorption increases had helped the most in the fight against the rogues and the shaman. The damage resistance had stemmed the corruption of the dark mana, while the energy absorption had allowed him to devour the darkness much faster than he would have been able to otherwise.
Once he’d caught his breath and mentally recovered from the battle, Ronan lifted himself upright and hefted the mace over his shoulder. He was ready to advance, and find out what else the hard difficulty tutorial had in store.
He was cautious as he advanced, and he cursed his lack of foresight. Ronan hadn’t brought a makeshift torch with him this time around, and the tunnel was dark. Not the thick, almost physical darkness of the shaman’s spell, but regular darkness.
The kind that was almost impossible to see in, but left room for the imagination. The shadows shifted slightly every so often, and he could hear his footsteps echoing down the corridor.
His eyes were on a swivel and he kept a firm grip on his mace, just in case more goblins were lying in wait to ambush him. However, he kept walking for around another hundred metres without incident. Then, in the distance, he spotted a faint orange glow from around a corner.
The nearer Ronan drew to the source of the light, the more cautious he became. He was almost certain there would be more goblins waiting for him around the bend.
When he finally reached the edge of the wall on the right side, he glued himself to it, and put the mace back into his inventory for maximum stealth. He stole a glance around the corner, pulling his head back before anything could spot him.
Ronan wasn’t taking chances.
Going in blind wasn’t a bad strategy with his advantages, but he would be a fool to not give himself the best chance of victory possible simply because he didn’t have to win. He frowned as he leaned into the stone, wondering if he’d missed a crucial detail on his first look.
There’d been nothing but a wide, empty room with a single flickering brazier at its centre. It was rectangular in shape, about the size of a banquet hall in one of those old castles in the countryside, and seemed to have a single arched doorway on the opposite wall to him.
What it didn’t have was any goblins, or darkness to shroud them. It was entirely possible there were some hidden in the parts of the room Ronan couldn’t see from his current position, but he could deal with that as he went.
It was safe to go around the corner, and creep right up to the entrance of the room, so he did it. Gluing himself to the wall once more, Ronan quickly poked his head out and checked out the remaining portion of the room. Also bereft of goblins, but not entirely empty.
Ronan considered his options briefly, before realising he would have to keep moving forward if he wanted to complete stage 4 in a timely and efficient manner. This was no time for social anxiety, not that he suffered much from it.
He stepped out into the room, holding his hands halfway up his chest in a friendly and inviting gesture. “Hey there, how’re you doing?” he said with a big smile plastered on his face, startling the man who was standing at the other end of the room so much that he threw something at Ronan.
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Comments
Syll
Was wondering when he’d encounter someone else 😂
