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  A large and wide-open space; a chamber that almost appeared as if it were a crystalline arena-field—constructed and styled in its design. Dozens upon dozens of glow-golems littered the ground around, their strange glowing fluids bleeding out as if blood, except more dense and…prevalent. However, many other dozens still remained standing; eighty to ninety in total, all withdrawing from a recent assault, reorganizing into yet another stringent formation.

  Their foe was a combined force of nine full adventurer parties hailing from both Coastfield and the neighboring Oceanfield, numbering forty-five in total; their equipment, armament, and armor were all basic to standard, but nevertheless adequate enough. They predominantly majority Steel-rank, however there were a few Iron-ranks as well as one Bronze-rank, who seemed to have been anointed the circumstantial leader.

  Thirty were melee specialists, making up the majority; however, there were also fourteen ‘rangers’—ranged specialists—armed with bows and crossbows. There was only one single spellcaster, a so-called ‘healer’—a title often given to life-school mages, but this mage was a dual specialist of both life and death magic.

  Tired, panting, battered… Yet, miraculously, none of them had been killed. Even so, however, there many injuries all around, both major and minor… Their sole healer worked tirelessly, using her life magic to alleviate injuries and stimulate swifter healing and her death magic to inhibit pain and sedate; her fatigued ignited eyes were constantly switching between lifely green and deathly grey.

  These combined parties of adventurers had been locked in this bloody feud for a time none of them could count; perhaps an hour; perhaps longer… What had started off as a typical coordinated ambush that was supposed to be quick and easy…had devolved into, well, this… They had made a mistake, perhaps having been too slow… Either way, glow-golems had been rapidly descending upon them in relentless waves.

  Steadfast and stalwart, they had tried to remain firm and unyielding; yet they were now only barely hold on. As the glow-golems’ numbers inflated, their tactics had only become more irritating.

  They would attack…only to fall back, reorganize their mock ‘frontline’, march in a formation, and then assault again…cycling over and over. This had only worsened as more types began to arrive—those skirmishers especially… Indeed, these faceless golems were behaving as if they were not a meagre force numbering less than hundred, but rather as if they were a large army fighting another large army across a wide battleline.

  Having organized an improvised formation in which the melee adventurers formed a loose defensive line, the rangers fired their arrows and bolts through the gaps in between… However, this was to limited effect.

  The golems, in a harmonized fashion, formed a tight ‘turtle-phalanx’ formation; two lines of crystalline shields raised in front of polearm-wielding glow-golems, whose pikes stuck out through the gaps. This strange formation slowly marched with almost perfect synchrony, as if one large organism operating as a single collective.

  The single Bronze-ranked adventurer, armed with a halberd of sorts, looked on as their frontal projectile assault was rendered ineffective… He tsked amidst his panting breaths; “Out of all days to not have a fighting mage…”

  “I… I can’t keep drawing like this!” A ranger so shouted out, exhausted indeed… Although her war-bow packed quite the punch, its draw-weight also sapped quite the stamina. “My…arm is about to give out! And I’m almost out of arrows!”

  The rangers were relentlessly trying to keep at least a modicum of pressure on those glow-golems; however, most of them were not experienced in this sort of combat archery and were slowly giving out. The crossbows, at least, were doing fine…ish, but they were running out of bolts.

  “Pssh! This is nothing!” so shouted in reply…an elf, seemingly—a rarity in the Central Continent these days, at least amongst the realms of ‘man’. One of a forestry sort, clearly from a culture of hunters, ambushers, and rangers; her traditional elven-style long-bow packed quite the powerful punch, her unique elvish focus giving her specially sharp aim and sight… Her arms were likewise evidently…built for sustained fast-paced archery. “Just keep the pressure up! Aim for the gaps in their shield-line!”

  The elven archer aimed for the small gaps in the glow-golems turtle-phalanx through which their pikes were protruding out. She was able to hit a few of them in their formation, her arrows being able to penetrate the golems themselves even if not their shields. However, she too was running out even if she had packed the most.

  The Bronze-ranked lead adventurer so groaned, having realized thus; “No! Just stop your shooting!” he waved at the rangers, shouting in command; “It’s pointless! Save your arrows!”

  The elven ranger sighed with a slight tsk; “Peh… Fine, fine…” she muttered aloud. The other archers, however, exhaled in relief, their arms allowed a momentary rest.

  “Moving slow…” the Bronze-ranked adventurer noticed; indeed, those golems were awfully slow. “Alrightly! Let’s take this chance! Everyone, move back! Move back a bit! Back to the sacks! Back to the sacks! We need distance!”

  They all thus fell back, even the ones who were becoming too fatigued to move. They tired to maintain some semblance of a formation, though it was slobby and hasty. These adventurers were…by no means accustomed to fighting against intelligent ‘mobs’, let alone engaging with…mock warfare tactics. Being Steel-rank, they were largely accustomed to mindlessly bludgeoning mindless monsters, with the most intelligent foe they had encountered hitherto being adolescent goblins.

  Indeed, despite their tenacious spirit, they struggled to not only employ their own tactics, but to also counter the glow-golems’.

  And as soon as those adventures made the call to halt their barrage and fall back, the glow-golems immediately took the chance granted to them. Their shield-wall momentarily split as a few dozen of them ran through and to the front of the formation which quickly retightened; armed in their mannequin hands being, of course, crystallic javelins.

  “Oh…” The leading Bronze-ranked adventurer immediately noticed as he glimpsed back… “OH SHIT! FUCK! TIGHTEN AND SHIELDS UP! EVERYONE ELSE FALL ‘ND FIND COVER!”

  The adventurers, freezing, immediately scrambled to react as a wave of pulsating javelins came lancing their way as if being launched and not thrown. Those with shields raised their shields and tried to hold their ground, javelin striking and getting stuck, though none penetrating through; others managed to find conveniently positioned cover, although several opted to simply drop down and tuck themselves protectively

  However, unlike the other skirmishing assaults proceeding now, this one was different, for these javelins had an awfully more…intense pinkish radiant throbbing to them.

  Poof. Poof. Poof.

  One by two by three, after several seconds, each javelin that had struck shattered in an potent burst, penetrated shields being torn apart, with…even a few hands to go along; scattered about were shards and fragments that also cut and sliced. Screams of pain and panic bounced all around, as few now one-handed adventurers falling to the ground, bleeding and moaning.

  Indeed, the shield adventurers who evaded the volley opted to lunge for cover instead.

  “GODS’ SACRED!” the leading adventurer so shouted, eyeing the scene… “PULL THEM OUT! PULL THEM OUT! MAGE! GET TO THEM!” he frantically commanded, as those able dragged the one-handed adventurers away.

  “Huh?! B-b-but I am still dealing with…” The healer mage so grughed. “F-fine! Fine! Got it!” The mage quickly left the more minor injured and hurried to those now more…seriously wounded.

  However, this lancing attack was only a single volley; the glow-golem skirmishers needed to conjure javelins anew. The rangers immediately began to counter-fire in this moment, some of their arrows and bolts striking and piercing the squishy crystalline golems; though, only a couple actually dropped down for good.

  Under fire, the glow-golem skirmishers quickly retreated behind their slow forward marching shield-phalanx. However, once safely within the comfort of their backline, these javelin-lancing glow-golems were hardly finished; for the javelins they proceeded to conjure were even stranger, being of a more…volatile veiny radiance.

  They tossed these new glowing javelins straight into the air in an arced angle that went well over their mock frontline, pulsating brighter and brighter as they went up and especially when they came falling down.

  “GODS’ SACRED FUCK! HIDE AND COVER! DROP! DROP!” The lead adventurer immediately lunged straight down and onto the ground, arms firmly covering his exposed neck and head.

  Shatter and poof.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Mid-air, these javelins detonated in quite the shattering burst of pinkish glimmer, raining down upon all below…shards and pieces that cut and tore into flesh, tunics, and even armor…before poofing further into even smaller shards, tearing chunks of flesh and metal to those most unfortunate.

  “My arm! Shit! Oh! THATSA BAD! FUCK MY ARM!” An adventure gripped his gashed arm and shoulders.

  “Ah! Ahahaha… My leg, my leg! Wooph… WOW THAT’S A STINGING ONE!” The elven archer’s leg had been struck, which was bleeding dangerously so.

  Such were many shouts that had erupted as many were immediately injured injured by this attack, afflicted with torn and cut flesh. The healer mage, panting and spelling away, attempted to do what she could, however even she had been injured, and her mana was only finite. “Coming! Coming!” Yet she remained tenacious in her duties.

  “Steel-rank MY DEMON RAPED ASSHOLE!” The leading Bronze adventurer so attempted to regrip his bearing and assess the situation, he himself having been hit by dozens of these burst-shards; although, his qualitied armor and tunic managed to take the brunt of the damaging effects. “HOW ARE THESE STEEL-RANK?!”

  However, no respite nor pause were to be granted. For soon after this volley, the glow-golems loosened their formation before they abruptly began to charge the staggered adventurers.

  “SHIT! FUCK!” The leading adventurer, overwhelmed by a surge of adrenaline that suppressed pain and injurious effect, immediately jolted himself back onto his feet. “THEY ARE CHARGING!! HERE THEY COME! READY YOURSELVES! NOW!” Joined by any and all who could so still at least vaguely fight…he thus readied himself.

  Knowing that Fortune’s luck had waned, they were expecting deaths…

  Yet suddenly: Bang, whistle, flash, then boom.

  Ears were pierced as a discharge so banged from somewhere higher up behind, a small-yet-potent boom smashing right into the center of the glow-golem’s formation…as at least ten of them found themselves blown into splattering pieces of limbs and crystalline goop-fluid.

  The glow-golems immediately halted their charge, staggered completely with a few of them even tripping. Confused and bewildered, it was almost as if… Instinctually, they tried to reorganize, only for yet another bang and flashing boom to strike, followed by another…as cluster after cluster were blown asunder.

  The adventurers were speechless, they themselves attempting to ascertain what was even going on. Yet out came sliding down from atop near behind yet afar, was that intervening foreigner who had been watching from that entry crevice for…perhaps longer than she ought have had—she was curious about the golems’ battle tactics.

  Regardless, once on the ground, the foreigner swiftly lanced into action, sliding herself towards a conveniently positioned…crystalline boulder-thing of sorts…for cover. Quickly aiming, she rapidly fired her revolver rifle at the still staggered and disorganized glow-golems, aiming for their spines or even glowing hearts.

  One. Then two… Now three, then suddenly five… They were dropping like flies. Seemingly out of panic or perhaps tactical realization, the disorganized glow-golems began to fall back.

  “…” The lead adventurer remained utterly bamboozled. Nevertheless, they all snapped out of this bewildered awe. “ALRIGHT! NOW’S OUR CHANCE! CUT THEM DOWN! DON’T LET THEM ROUTE! WE NEED THEIR HEARTS! GET THEM! GET THEM!” Clenching his halberd, he thus unfurled a battle crying scream.

  The other adventurers, those able to run and stand, joined him as they too unleashed their own cries of rallying adrenaline, charging down at the retreating glow-golems as the rangers fired their own volleys, albeit…cautiously so—trying not to hit their own in the back.

  “You!” One of these rangers—a crossbow wielder—, however, ran up to the foreigner’s position, having been near and close. “Who… W-who in the Gods’ sacred fuck-toilet are you?!” they shoutingly interrogated, so baffled indeed.

  “Someone.” yet the foreigner only flatly replied, her mask-obscured targeting eyes far too focused; her combat inhibited mind far too fixated.

  She provided her own supportive fire until her repeater’s ten-shot cylinder was empty. Tsking, she immediately drew her revolver and prepared herself to lance up close… Yet by the time she was ready to lance-dash forth, the battle was practically over.

  The glow-golems had routed completely, formation breaking as they tried to scramble off. The charging adventurers, however, began to cut them down completely, with even the wounded joining the messy glow-goopy slaughter.

  Having watched this unfold, the foreigner merely sighed and holstered her revolver. She began to reload her repeater, preparing it for the next time; she needed to clean it at some point, too much soot…

  “That’s quite the gun you’ve got… Guns, I mean… What are you, Gunslinger Two or something?”

  Oh, that denizen was still near her… “Hm.” She largely ignored him. By the time she finished reloading her firearm, the last of the glow-golems were dispatched, with not a single one being allowed to survive.

  With the fighting over, the adventurers’ exhaustion immediately made itself felt, as so many of them fell straight down to the ground, breathing in and out, bodies and minds burning from fatigue. The healer mage continued to provide what support she could despite her reaching her limits…

  So silent, indeed, everything had become so suddenly… It was almost as if the foreigner was disappointed at how fast this had all unfolded, her combat state fading…

  Well, at least they had all…mostly survived. Wrapping the repeater’s strap around her shoulder, she thus turned around with the intention of turning back and climbing out. Yet before she could successfully do so, she was so ambushed by more of those worst of things to deal with…

  “HEY! YOU! WAS THAT ALL YOU?!” A shout hailed from behind, accompanying with it descending steps.

  “Yeah! It was! Haha!” The ranger adventurer nearest to her ‘sold her out’, so to speak, in effect…

  And, indeed, following with this was even more…stepping steps that so rushed their way as if filled with eager glee.

  “GODS’ SACRED TOILET! YOU SAVED OUR ASSES!”

  “Yeah! What she said! What kind of firepower do you even have on you, huh?? Wow!”

  “Hmph. We could’ve handled it ourselves…”

  “NO WE COULD NOT!”

  The foreigner sighed, having not the choice but to turn around and face these…these…denizens who were now so gathering around her making their many noises… Ugh, she hated their noises. “Yes… You are given welcome…” she hollowed replied to those few thanking adventurers.

  Thankfully, it was not all forty-five of them who had descended upon her—such would have been far too many denizens denizening near her. It was only eight or so; the rest were too preoccupied with their whatever doings.

  “One of those masks, huh? Hah! You know, Gunslinger-wannabes eat a lot of shit, but you really are Gunslinger, huh? With that… Is that fucking boom-thrower?!”

  Yet even these few gathering close to her were persistent in wanting to ‘talk’ with her and ‘be friendly’ and…all such things she had no interest in doing. Their commenting voices were like knives that stabbed at her mind; she did not want to hear them.

  “Wait… W-w-w-wait?! YOU’RE JUST A FUCKING COPPER?!” One of them finally noticed her badge…

  ? … ? Oh great, this again?

  “GODS’ SACRED?! WHAT?! WOW!” And just like that, abruptly even more denizen screeches so came her way, voices frustrating in how they could so easily implant themselves into her head, impossible to get out…

  Now even more of them were starting to approach with interest… Thus, no longer just eight or so.

  “Wait, wait, w-wait?? We got saved by a Copper???”

  “Wow… Either we suck or she’s a future Onyx!”

  “I mean… She just has fancy guns and stuff… Pfft, no skill…”

  “Demon-King fuck this shitty crossbow! Where can I get a boom-thrower like that???”

  More of them arrived; more of them wanted to thank and talk to her, curiosity so strong… These ones were not angry for her intervention like they had been; these ones praised and lauded… Their happy voices and smiling expressions would not be disagreeable sights, indeed, even for her…

  However, these days, it was hard to distinguish between praising laughter and tormented cries; between rejoicing shouts and ripping screams. Their voices were too close and too loud, tones and things…far too easily intermixed with memories of old. The more they spoke, the more damnation of echoes bygone flashed within…

  “What’s with that tavern-gal outfit? It’s traditional… It’d look cute if weren’t so messy…”

  “Seriously, woman! I don’t think we can thank you enough! Haha!

  “Wow, that was so… HUFF! I thought we were dead!”

  “Are you…partyless by chance? Copper or not, I wouldn’t mind adding you to us…”

  “We’ll have to leave together anyway, so… Yeah, we can add her to us…”

  “You’re with Coastfield, rightly?”

  Truly, she found it so hard to tolerate these…noises made by denizens and their…mouths. She wanted to get out of here already and not deal with their…whatever noises.

  “Pleasantly received. But I must…” The foreigner was about to abruptly turn around and make way to leave, yet stopped herself as she noticed in the far corner of her visual field, situated so…nicely upon the side of the chamber’s crystalline wall quite close to where she herself had slid down…were quite the many stuffed and filled sacks of glowing crystalline hearts.

  Ah… Suddenly, such an idea so entered her mind.

  “I see…” The foreigner began to walk off from those gathered others, waving away so gently as she approached their filled sacks; “Well, if you are all with the thanks for me, then you would not be bothered by this, no?” She halted before those very sacks, glancing at those gathered adventurers behind.

  Their heads tilted with…dawning confusion as they stared at her, those praising smiles and excited eyes…withering slightly.

  “Ahaha…” One awkwardly chucked… “I mean, w-what do you mean?”

  The answer, however, came not in words but action.

  “Heh?”

  The foreigner immediately picked up the largest of their stuffed sacks and, without any delay or words to be said, departed away, faster than fast.

  “W-w-wait wait…h-hey-hey! What are you doing???” one of the adventurers so shouted as they all just watched, completely dumbfounded…

  The foreigner dashed before rapidly climbing her way back up with only one hand to that entry hole and ledge above, tactically withdrawing through the crystalline halls in a snow-dusty trail of cyanic sparkle, so hard to see.

  “…” All those once delighted souls so stared on with such flattened faces and blank expressions, minds still trying to understand what had just happened…

  “D-did she just…rob us??”

  “She sure fucking did?! What the fuck?!”

  “HEY! GIVE OUR HEARTS BACK!!”

  The Bronze-ranked lead adventurer, himself having been resting, immediately heard the commutation that was happening. “What?! Huh?” he stood himself up, hearing their words and seeing the…evidently missing bag. “WHAT THE SHIT?! WELL, STOP STANDING THERE! AFTER THAT BITCH! NOW! WE’LL HAVE TO DO THIS SHIT AGAIN!!”

  “R-right… Right right! AFTER THAT BAG!” Two rangers, the most agile and mobile of the bunch, immediately sprung themselves up and began to move with haste. They climbed up and into that same entry hole and thus began to give chase and follow.

  However, in the end, they were unable to find that foreigner and their stolen sack. The hearts collected this day were not enough to make up for the loss; condemned they were, indeed, to make up for what had been stolen with more blood and injuries, some of which were rather permanent.

  All necessary sacrifices, of course, for the foreigner’s own victory; for at least she was able to finish this last lingering quest, completing her remaining directives… Such was, after all, everything she was meant to do in this endless existence: to complete directives; to execute objectives thoroughly and fully… Yet for what goals, what purposes… Such had been rendered to dust ages ago.

  Shadows spinning around, chasing their own tail.