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The Apocalypse Grinder - Chapter 68
🕑 Added 2025-06-26 13:37:53 +0000 UTC<< Chapter 67 | Index | Chapter 69 >>
The introduction with the others went smoothly, as it had done in previous iterations. Ronan had no issue masking his complex emotions upon seeing Terry again. Dana was as flirtatious and terrifying as ever. Jackson… He still liked throwing magic bolts.
Ronan felt more alive than ever as he punched and occasionally kicked his way through the hordes of goblins. He realised the true value of dexterity through the repetitive combat—never before had his movements felt so controlled.
He had yet to use his new class skill, martial meditation, but that was fine. There would be time for cultivation once he had defeated the champion and returned to… Yeah, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to call it Planet 2.48e11E, but it’s no longer Earth.
Actually the naming system of the planets gave away a lot of information about this new system controlled multiverse. It was scientific notation to designate large numbers. Ronan could assume then, that his new planet was just one of over two hundred billion others. Was it two hundred billion words in total, or was that just the E grade ones? Too many unknowns.
He was able to think on these problems without much distraction, even while fighting his way to the final room of the fourth tutorial stage. As he was now, even the elite goblins posed little threat.
Perhaps I should use reverberating path once I get out of the tutorial this time. Exploring the sector is a higher priority than grinding goblins for eternity, he thought to himself. I can always come back if the need arises.
That was the last opportunity he had for his internal debates. The crack of Dana’s whip sounded beside him, carving open an unfortunate goblin shaman’s chest. “Take that, you dirty voodoo bastard,” she said with a devilish smirk.
“Where did you learn to use that whip, I wonder?” Ronan muttered, face paling as he realised he’d spoken aloud.
Dana took it in stride, winking and putting a finger to her lips. “Every woman needs her secrets, big fella,” she giggled.
“You’re right. Everyone, quickly assign your points. I feel like there should be another enemy after this. Maybe the most powerful we’ve ever faced,” Ronan said.
He had been trying to figure out how to best prepare them without revealing his future knowledge. This seemed like a suitable compromise. He then flung open the door, revealing the stone wall behind it and triggering the tremors that signalled Magriz’al’s appearance.
Once he was tucked away in the opposite corner, Ronan pulled up his status and wasted no time in distributing his free points. His decision was the same as it had been right after receiving his new class. Three ways between strength, agility, and dexterity.
The experience multipliers were showing their worth. He was level 34, only a few below the hobgoblin champion. Still, he was nervous.
Last time he’d defeated Magriz’al, Ronan had used Thurg’s Razorspear to carve the monster apart. This time, he had nothing but the strength of his fists.
A fist can be stronger than any weapon in this new world, he mused. All it takes is time and tenacity. I’ve got plenty of both. His heritage gave him seemingly infinite time, yet Ronan could picture his grandmother betting on his tenacity being an even deeper well.
Ronan spared a final glance at his comrades. He’d told all of them to be careful in the fight ahead. He’d made sure to look at Terry as he did so, hoping that his warning along with his physical prowess would keep the man alive this iteration.
He lacked breaking charge, which made his task all the more difficult. Even so, with his agility and strength both above 50, it wouldn’t be impossible.
In fact, his stats dwarfed even those of his previous iteration. Knight was a class for a valiant protector, while martial artist was designed for a man who wished to turn his body into an instrument of graceful destruction.
The floor exploded in a shower of grey rubble and powdered mortar. He heard the cries of his party members readying themselves for battle. Ronan’s stamina began to plummet as he activated the first of his skills.
Vital surge filled him with confidence and power, exceeding the limits imposed by his body.
A malformed green fist struck at the ceiling, delivering Magriz’al’s declaration of dominance to those who dared challenge the hobgoblin champion. Its towering, hideous physique appeared as the cloud of dust dissipated.
Ronan’s legs, coiled like twisted springs and containing far more power than any pre-system athlete could dream of, exploded upwards and forwards. His body shot through the air. His right fist was cocked back, obliques and back muscles storing potential energy in preparation for his opening strike.
As he flew towards the monster, for the briefest of instants, Ronan felt as though his consciousness was longer confined to his mind. Every cell of his body screamed in anticipation.
He unleashed his wound-up muscles, torso twisting as everything came into alignment. A small, unremarkable human fist collided with the thick, armoured hide of the hobgoblin champion.
Ronan had been rather average before the system brought the apocalypse to his world. Better than most of his fellow humans in the brains department, perhaps, but no prodigy.
Yet even the weakest of humans can become something monstrous if they are determined enough. Especially when given the means to do so.
For Ronan, this was only the eighth iteration of the apocalypse. Those seven lives had taught him a lot and even without a weapon, he had changed much.
The thick skin split and peeled as the force of the punch was transferred into it. The thick, twisted spine shook in indignation. The first vertebrae to shatter was the one which held it together. Like dominoes, the rest exploded one by one.
Magriz’al screeched as agonising pain spread through its body like a wildfire. Then it roared in fury, imposing its will on the ant who’d dared to harm it.
Even without a spinal cord, the monster’s body moved. It could not strike the one behind it, but its hateful gaze fell onto another ant that stood up to its prowess. Four of them refused to kneel in its presence.
It pulled all of its strength into its arms and chest. Lacking a spine to stabilise itself, the force of its blow was severely weakened. Even so, it would be enough to kill one of the hateful creatures.
Ronan’s blow had only just begun to deliver its power. He felt a drain on his spirit as magic strike came into effect. A concentrated blast of mana ripped out from his knuckles, liquefying the hobgoblin’s insides within a ten centimetre radius.
Observing his own strike, the mistakes he’d made and the effects of every minute adjustment, Ronan was growing without the influence of the system. Despite the crippling injuries the boss had suffered, it still refused to fall dead.
Red tattoos burst into shape across Magriz’al’s body. They glowed with demonic intent as corrupted energy replaced the lost organs, flesh, and bone. A berserker skill.
Ronan’s strike was not yet finished. Yet in the corner of his eye he saw the monster’s fist descending towards Keith as the man raised his sword in defiance.
He could abandon his blow and divert the strike, but Ronan knew that would be giving up a valuable opportunity to improve. The death of others is not permanent, but can I live with that choice on my conscience? Letting a comrade die to gain some minor insights?
The thoughts flashed through his mind in an instant. He grimaced. He saw Terry move. The big man was going to throw himself between Keith and the hobgoblin’s fist.
Many things flashed through Ronan’s mind as he watched the fist descending towards his allies. Even now, I’m still not strong enough to protect them while killing this goblin bastard. The only way I can change that is to become even stronger. He cursed his own weakness.
He didn’t cancel his strike. Following the eruption of magical power, his stamina dropped at a rapid rate. After the first blow, its twin followed.
Ronan’s fist had shattered the bone, but the boss monster’s berserking skill had replaced it using its demonic scarlet energy. An ethereal fist overlaid his own, striking the same point on Magriz’al’s spine.
The ghostly fist crashed against the boss at the same moment as the boss’ fist struck its target. A loud grunt rang out from beneath the boss. An echoing series of cracks and crunches followed.
He heard the yells of Jackson, Dana, and Keith. A second wave of mana ripped through the hobgoblin champion, eviscerating the last scraps of its resistance.
A notification appeared in Ronan’s vision as he fell to the shattered stone tiles. He had defeated the tutorial for a second time, but the price he had paid was even greater than before.
Fuck goblins, he roared inwardly, spitting on the champion’s corpse. His choice would make him stronger in the long run, but that didn’t mean he could ignore the consequences.
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Comments
Julia Niles
Ronan could assume then, that his new planet was just one of over two hundred billion others. Was it two hundred billion words in total, or was that just the E grade ones? Too many unknowns. Change words to worlds
Julia Niles
Why are these chapters so much shorter than the ones on RR
