Adventuresse
patreon
The Apocalypse Grinder - Chapter 18
🕑 Added 2025-06-18 09:09:56 +0000 UTC<< Chapter 17 | Index | Chapter 19 >>
“Let’s have it you little shits,” Ronan cackled as he swung the bone staff at the first warrior to reach him.
As the heavy, gnarled staff cut down through the air, Ronan focused his intent. Magic strike never specified that his strikes had to be made with his body—it only said that it dealt magic damage based on their physical damage.
That had given him an evil idea that would flip the playing field upside down if it worked the way he thought. The twisted skull that sat at the end of the staff was heavy enough to shatter bone and rend flesh when swung with his raw, physical strength.
And that’s exactly what it would’ve done, if not for the goblin hastily raising its buckler to block Ronan’s blow. Unfortunately for the little monster, a strike heavy enough to rattle its arms and shake its balance wasn’t the only thing it had to contend with.
A devastating explosion of mana cascaded out from the skull. The buckler splintered. The iron cap that held it together crumpled like paper. Bones turned to dust as the magic rippled through them.
The second strike liquefied the lesser goblin’s insides in an instant. Ronan watched as the empty skin sack flopped to the ground, the sword and broken shield clattering beside it.
You have killed [Lesser Goblin Warrior Lv.5]!
+6 Copper Credits
+2 [Staff] Mastery
+1 [Mana] Mastery
+Lesser Goblin Ears (Common)
A savage grin curled at the edges of his blood stained lips. Magic strike didn’t only work with his fists, but any source of physical damage.
Ronan’s punches weren’t that much weaker than striking with the staff—admittedly due to his lack experience with the weapon—but the difference in magic damage was exponential. Even a slight increase in his raw striking power led to a huge amplification of magic devastation.
His masteries were different to the first run, but at the very least they were steadily increasing. Even if the numbers didn’t match up, he still had the muscle memory driving him.
Ronan had to throw himself out of the path of an arrow. A third archer had spawned. The cowardly trio had grown bold as their numbers swelled, but that wouldn’t last long.
The other warrior should’ve attacked him by now. He turned and to his great surprise saw it locked in battle with a struggling Keith.
The man wasn’t a great warrior. Hell, he wasn’t even a shitty warrior—he was barely fending off the goblin’s slashes and bashes.
But Ronan commended him for his bravery. He couldn’t leave him to fall as the final two warriors spawned. He wanted to take down the archers, but they could wait.
Avoiding their shots wasn’t that difficult and there was always the restorative healing of a level up to save him if necessary. All he had to keep in mind was the arrival of the second shaman—even if Keith was in trouble, he’d have to fight that snarling, staff-waving bastard the moment it stepped through the archway.
I’m thinking too much. My body knows what to do. Punch, kick, and smash, he admonished himself. Without another delay, Ronan stomped the ground and charged the newly spawned goblin warrior.
What followed was pure carnage. The third goblin had beelined for Keith. It swung its blade at the unfortunate man’s neck, causing him to stagger backwards and fall onto his arse.
The second warrior lunged, stabbing its sword at Keith’s gut. Then Ronan ploughed through both lesser goblins. He smashed into the first with the force of a speeding truck and the brutal finesse of a rugby tackle.
It was lifted off the ground, squealing. He barely slowed down as he continued into the second.
The goblin screeched and stabbed with its sword. Ronan shifted to the left and it instead pierced its kin.
Goblin blood sprayed across the walls as Ronan pulverised the pair of lesser goblins between his body and the stone bricks. Ribs crunched, guts churned, and shields cracked.
But it hadn’t been a regular charge.
As Ronan slammed into the second goblin warrior, he had used magic strike. His control was lacking and as such it didn’t quite have the effect he desired, but it was enough to end the battle instantly.
You have killed [Lesser Goblin Warrior Lv.6]!
+7 Copper Credits
+2 [Pugilism] Mastery
+Lesser Goblin Ears (Common)
+Goblin Buckler Lv.6 (Common)
Usually the force rippled outwards from the impact zone. Ronan’s control had slipped at the last moment and the mana lanced out of his shoulder erratically.
That had made it more destructive—for the closest goblin. Unfortunately it had dampened the damage to the second. It still lived, clinging to its miserable life by a hair.
He didn’t need mana to finish it. A single, precise punch to its temple was enough. Its bloodshot eyes rolled back in its head and it fell limply against the ground.
You have killed [Lesser Goblin Warrior Lv.7]!
+9 Copper Credits
+1 [Pugilism] Mastery
+Lesser Goblin Ears (Common)
You have leveled up to Lv.6!
You have been restored!
+1 Vitality
+1 Endurance
+1 Free Stat Point
Another level. He would have to be careful about his health from now on. The second shaman would guarantee at least one more, but he couldn’t be sure about the archers.
Also, if he killed the shaman fast enough it wouldn’t get the opportunity to summon that twisted monstrosity which had killed him the last time he was here. Ronan glanced at the glowing staff symbol on the capstone; it was two-thirds full.
Health: 88/90
Stamina: 86/120
Mana: 43/100
His health and stamina were in excellent condition. He hadn’t spent much energy and he’d barely taken damage during the initial clashes.
His mana on the other hand… his excessive experimentation and lack of control had drained it rapidly. Ronan had stat points going spare, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to use them unless it was absolutely necessary—a life or death situation.
Then again, spending them now might prevent such a situation from arising. A dead man had no use for unspent wealth.
While he’d been deliberating, he’d also been avoiding a bevy of arrows that whistled his way. Keith was hastily crawling back to his feet, but one struck him in the arm as he did.
The man screamed in pain and fell down once more. Ronan cursed and rushed over. He grabbed Keith by his shirt collar and hauled him upright. “Stop squealing like one of those damn goblins, Keith! Get your shit together. Wounds mean nothing. Just beat the crap out of these ugly monsters until you get a level,” he roared, hoping that shock and adrenaline might get the man moving better than a gentle hand.
Ronan left Keith in his wake as he rushed at the four lesser goblin archers huddled at the opposite end of the dungeon. Without warriors to guard them or a shaman to empower them, they were sitting ducks for a big brute like him.
He wanted to save at least 20 mana points for the shaman, which gave him two uses of mana strike—perhaps just one if it drained too much. He would open with it and hopefully shock the rest of the goblins into submission.
If not, he would resort to his fists. They’d done a beautiful job thus far. He gave up on dodging arrows when he came within five strides of the gnarled, warty, monsters.
He was sure to level up at least once while killing the four of them, so there wasn’t any need for caution. With two strides to go, he lunged at the toughest of the bunch—a level 9—and pulled on the chaotic threads of mana he felt in his heart.
It hadn’t been long since he earned this skill, but already Ronan was advancing in leaps and bounds. He could faintly feel the mana resting in his chest—not enough to ‘see’ it, but enough that he could stifle the drain, or at least attempt to.
His health plummeted as the goblins peppered him with arrows. The one he approached drew its dagger and sidestepped. Ronan caught it shifting its weight just in time.
He planted his right foot into the tiles. A hairline crack ran out from where it landed. His left arm was weaker, but by no means was it weak.
A searing lance of pain ran down his forearm. The goblin had slashed a savage gash in his flesh. Scarlet blood poured from the wound, but his fist still found its mark.
A gasp. The monster coughed blood, then its stomach burst. The smell was vile. How a creature that dissipated into mana could stink like rotten sewage when carved open was a mystery and an insult to everything Ronan held sacred—mainly the integrity of his sinuses.
You have killed [Lesser Goblin Archer Lv.9]!
+14 Copper Credits
+3 [Pugilism] Mastery
+2 [Mana] Mastery
+Lesser Goblin Ears (Common)
+Goblin Bracers Lv.9 (Common)
Ronan glanced at his resources.
Health: 58/90
Stamina: 74/120
Mana: 34/100
Much better, he thought to himself. Either he was on the right track with manipulating his mana or he simply hadn’t needed as much to take that particular little bastard out.
Given the increase in mana mastery, he suspected the latter. There was no time for debates and numbers, though—three goblins still squealed for his love and care.
Reminiscing on the first time he’d faced these archers, as the fifth and final one emerged confused from the archway, Ronan grinned and pulled the goblin buckler from his inventory.
He would never let it be said that he didn’t fight with flair. Fists were a wonderful weapon, but there was a refined elegance in bashing a goblin’s head in with the rim of a shield—or so he’d come to believe.
<< Chapter 17 | Index | Chapter 19 >>
