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The Apocalypse Grinder - Chapter 37
🕑 Added 2025-06-18 10:43:10 +0000 UTC<< Chapter 36 | Index | Chapter 38 >>
Ronan let out a bestial roar of fury as he plunged the rusty spear into the zombified goblin fleshbeast. The orange tip lacerated the necrotic flesh. Blood, pus, and spurts of acid flowed out.
He was about to put his mana control to the test. He’d never been stupid, but his area of expertise had been numbers. This was magic—how could he know what to expect?
Ronan felt that the best way to kill this gigantic, lumbering monster was to pierce its vitals as quickly as possible. Thus, his idea was to try and make the magic strike turn into a storm of blades!
However, his control was still rudimentary. The mana ripped out from the tip of the spear erratically. A dozen jagged parcels of mana shaped like shards of broken glass tore through the monster’s body.
Unfortunately, most of the mana still burst outwards in a simple pulse. Ronan clutched at his temple, a throbbing migraine making him stagger backwards.
He’d lost focus halfway through his attack. The results were still devastating. Those blades of mana exploded out of the monster’s body, creating a dozen jets of blood and ichor that dissolved the stone where they landed.
The remaining mana tore through the fat and flesh, but did little damage. Even with the devastating blow, the monster continued trudging forwards as if nothing had happened.
Ronan clenched his jaw, forcing himself to ignore the pain in his head. He glanced at his mana.
Mana: 48/100
Plenty left. Good. He didn’t need to hold back.
He prepared to thrust the spear again, but realised he had lost his grip when he fell backwards. The weapon was stuck in the endless rolls of fat.
He rushed forwards to grab it but in the undulating movement of the beast the shaft was crushed and snapped in half. His weapon was gone.
“Shit! Stupid,” he cursed himself. However, there was nothing for it. Even with his fists he could still slaughter the hideous creature.
Ronan still remembered the burning acid that hid within those sacs, buried in its flesh. It was dangerous to go wild, but he had no other choice.
Rushing forwards he began to unleash a wild flurry of punches. The creature’s attention suddenly snapped to him and he saw a bloodshot eye tear open to his left.
A huge mouth peeled apart right above his head. His eyes shot open. What’s it doing?! he exclaimed internally.
This was new. Strange. Not wanting to risk his life, even though he suspected he might come back anyway, Ronan threw himself to the side.
Best not to take chances.
That proved to be the correct decision when that mouth began to hiss insidiously. It blew out a billowing cloud of yellow mist.
Wherever that mist touched, it burnt away matter. Even the stone tiles and bricks formed by the system weren’t safe.
After a few seconds that mouth closed, but the eye remained open. It stared directly at Ronan. It’s pupil flickered to and fro as he moved, tracking him.
Creepy. This goblin zombie was far trickier to deal with than the lower leveled ones. The mist slowly dissipated, but clung to the air like toxic glue, unwilling to depart.
Ronan now had another danger to watch out for while fighting. Getting up close and personal was far riskier than he’d expected. Suddenly he had a flash of inspiration.
“Keith, do you have any weapons in your inventory?” he called out. “Anything will do, just toss it over!”
Keith snapped to attention at his shout. He had been hanging behind Ronan, not acting but not scared witless either.
“I have- one second,” he replied, before freezing on the spot as his eyes darted to and fro. “Here! Take this,” he suddenly shouted, throwing a shortsword towards Ronan.
“Nice one! Haha, just stand there and watch while I carve this ugly fucker apart!” he chuckled back, catching the sword by the handle.
He surprised himself with the ease with which he did it. Had to be the adrenaline in his system heightening his reactions. Probably.
Ronan wasn’t a biology expert. Or a system one. With the sword in hand he felt far more confident.
It didn’t have the reach of a spear but it would let him keep some distance to react if the fleshbeast tried that stinky breath attack again. With a roar of battle he rushed forward once again.
The sword danced in his hands. Downwards thrust. Upwards slash. He carved off chunks of fat and flesh as if he were a master butcher.
Suddenly a huge, swollen arm tore through the air. Ronan deftly danced backwards to evade. When it smashed against the stone, it sent tiny shards flying in every direction.
Ronan grinned and ran forwards. One of the shards whizzed past his face, slicing into his cheek.
After its attacks, the creature was slow to recover. It was pulling its arm back up, but its body was tilted to one side, exposing its thick neck.
Ronan wasn’t sure if it even needed a neck, given its odd biology, but it was as good a target as any. His heart pounded in his chest as he jumped onto the huge arm.
A second leap carried him upwards and onto its shoulder. A third put him right above its head—it’s main head, anyway.
Raising the shortsword in two hands, he let his mana gather in his chest. And he didn’t stop there.
On top of magic strike, Ronan activated his new skill, vital surge. He felt power rushing into every cell of his body as that strange suction drained his health.
The tingling of his mana reached its zenith. “I fucking hate goblins,” he declared as he plunged the blade into the top of its spine.
He heard a sickening crunch. The rusty blade tore through vertebrae like a karate chop through tiles. Blood sprayed up, coating his face and arms.
There was a pulsing crackle as his mana tore outwards. Dozens of jagged blades ripped through the monster’s body. They carved its insides apart as if they were in a meat grinder.
Ronan still lost focus about two thirds of the way through. The rest of the mana formlessly rippled outwards, liquefying the remains of the monster.
A notification pinged in his ears. His mouth split into a bloodstained grin as he tumbled off the creature’s back.
The sword remained buried in its neck like excalibur in the stone, testament to his accomplishment. As he lay on his back, panting like a dog, Ronan began to laugh out loud.
“Fuck that felt good. Keith! I love you dude. Good work on the sword,” he called out breathlessly.
“You’re welcome,” his former manager replied, taken by surprise. He walked over and stood over Ronan. “You look terrifying. Like a horror movie villain. I’m glad you’re on my side,” he chuckled, holding out a hand.
Ronan took it and as Keith helped him to his feet, he gave him an appraising stare. I wonder why he’s so different each time. My actions weren’t so varied, right? he wondered to himself.
Ronan realised he couldn’t let Keith’s past actions dictate their future. Even if the guy had been a spineless coward and a shitty boss, treating him like crap wouldn’t help them fight their way out of the tutorial.
This time, he’d barely changed his actions towards Keith, but even that bit of encouragement and assistance had led to this. Ronan looked into Keith’s eyes as they held hands, palms clasped around each other’s wrist.
“You’re not a bad fighter, Keith. Keep it up and you might lose some of that puppy fat,” he said with a smirk.
“Fuck you Ronan. I’m still your boss,” he replied in a nasal whine. “If you let me die my dad will kick your ass.”
“Pah! Moron,” he replied, chuckling loudly. This felt good.
They weren’t yet friends, but they were perhaps becoming brothers as the fires of battle forged their spirits. Ronan turned his attention to the blinking notifications that demanded his attention.
First, he quickly went through the ones he knew wouldn’t change. The countdown ticked down in a corner, but he ignored it for now.
Congratulations, you have cleared Stage 3 of the tutorial!
+159 Copper Credits
Stage 4 will begin in 1 minute!
Maths was his strong suit. He’d earned more credits this time around too. Calculating how much more was a little hard before, but now he had figured it out.
Six percent.
That was the bonus to his money making, granted by his heritage. A quick look at his status told him that in his last life he’d earned a little over 6 bronze credits.
So, each bronze credit equated to roughly one percent extra earnings in the next life. That wasn’t bad.
Ronan wasn’t looking forward to dying again, but he would at least find out if the bonus was based on his total earned through all his lives or only the last one.
Next up was the kill notification. It wouldn’t be the strongest enemy he’d killed, but it was definitely the most satisfying. His mana control had advanced in leaps and bounds and he couldn’t wait to see that reflected in his gains.
You have killed [Zombified Goblin Fleshbeast Lv.23]!
+74 Copper Credits
+1 [Pugilist I] Mastery
+2 [Spear] Mastery
+12 [Mana] Mastery
+3 [Sword] Mastery
+2 [Stamina] Mastery
+Fleshbeast Pus Sac (Uncommon)
You have leveled up to Lv.10!
You have leveled up to Lv.11!
You have leveled up to Lv.12!
You have leveled up to Lv.13!
You have been restored x4!
+4 Vitality
+4 Endurance
+4 Free Stat Points
Seeing all the level ups made Ronan shake with excitement. This was the moment he’d been waiting for—it was time to select a class once again.
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