Chris Huisjen
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Stormblade C9: E-Rankers (2)
🕑 Added 2025-06-16 13:03:02 +0000 UTC9 - E-Rankers (2)
I scanned the treeline warily, the Stormsteel rapier nothing but a metal bar and hanging by my cheek in a high, longsword guard instead of a fencing one. “Hold on a minute,” I said.
“What’s up?” Javier asked. The big guy had grown more confident after the wolf fights—and after figuring out what his job really was. Neither tank had gotten a taunt skill yet, and so far, no one had used anything I didn’t recognize—with the exception of Ellen. Her shadow magic that sheared off squared-off chunks from the wolves had to be the one she’d used on me in our spar, but I had no idea what her Unique skill was yet.
The whole time my peers had been in portals, leveling, I’d been studying. I’d hated it all through high school; instead of hitting the books, I could be hitting a punching bag—or someone bigger than me. Both of those were better options than knowing the difference between mitosis and meiosis or how Midsummer Night’s Dream ended. But that had changed when my system awakened. I’d turned into a regular bookworm, spending hours in the Governing Council’s archives.
Skills, mostly. I’d pored over every publicly available build and skill. Everything but the city’s S-Ranks—none of them wanted their builds to be known for some reason. Every bit of information on them dried up at C-Rank, like it had been systematically cut from the archives. It had taken a while to find four merged skills that would do exactly what I wanted, and even longer to find a combination of four that’d bind Stormbreak.
But that wasn’t all I’d studied.
I’d spent time reading up on the E and D-Ranks I’d have to clear in order to level skills and get the cores I’d need, and there was an almost eighty percent chance that this meadow was our last safe refuge.
The boss was out there. In the woods. And it was an ambush predator.
I checked my Scripts. Both were about to run out, and with one hundred thirty-nine Mana, I could afford to re-buff. I did so, applying both the deflection and movement-enhancing Scripts, then ripped two more pages out of my notebook. “I’m going out there. When I do, something’s going to jump me,” I said.
“And we’ll be right behind you?” Ellen asked.
“No. You’ll be right here, with the tanks on either side of you and Rob ready to clobber anything that gets close. I’m setting a trap. Two of them, actually.” I looked around, then shrugged off my backpack. Two of my three energy bars were left; I grabbed them both, affixed the lightning trap Bindings to them, and threw them into the tall grass directly in between the team and the woods. “And I’ll be the bait. If something gets snared, hit it hard.”
Then I strode across the field, threading carefully between my energy bar lightning traps, and headed for a gap between two gigantic tree trunks. I’d lied to them. Kind of. Yes, the trap was real. And yes, I was bait. And, of course, if I retreated out of the woods with a massive boss monster hot on my heels, I wanted them to help.
But the battle trance called to me.
I needed to test myself. To push my skills and strength to their limits. To see how far I’d come with just one merged skill and a partial, unlevelled set of component skills. I hadn’t been able to handle a single D-Rank hobgoblin before, but now I was shredding this portal’s wolves. That D-Rank tank had gotten hurt when I’d hit him in training. And that left me wondering…
Could I kill the boss solo?
Almost certainly not. D-Rankers usually couldn’t solo an E-Rank boss.
But could I give it a good fight, and get stronger for the experience?
Absolutely.
I stepped between the trees, out of the meadow, and into the twilit forest. And a stench hit me like a hammer. It smelled like a thousand cats had pissed on every tree in the forest. Like something had died in the air conditioning ducts at the apartment again. Like sour milk left out in the sun.
But at the same time, it didn’t smell exactly like any of that.
I activated the Stormsteel rapier. The crackling lightning illuminated the twilight in a faint circle around my feet.
And four yellow-green, slitted eyes opened in front of me.
Serpentkin Broodwatcher: E-Rank
Four claw-tipped arms, each impossibly thin. A serpentine face. A tongue that lashed the air beneath its too-many eyes. Scales and brown-green skin that blended in with the forest. Hair that writhed across its head like snakes. A breastless, hourglass torso, and a coiled tail.
It hit me faster than I expected, even knowing it was an ambusher.
I barely got my sword up in time as claws flashed out toward my face, driving me down onto one knee. Sparks flew—the monster’s talons were hard as stone. I rolled out of the second swiping set of claws’ path. The sword came up in a ready stance, body turned to present a small target. Not that I intended to defend.
The moment I had my balance, I used Vital Lunge. The sword’s tip rocketed forward as I put my whole weight behind the attack; the blade punched through the monster’s scales, gouging into its stomach.
It screamed.
The scream hit me like a slap from a giant. I jerked back, forcing my body steady with Stamina. I was burning far too much of it, far too early. And worse, the Serpentine Broodwatcher’s wound was already closing. The stink of burning flesh mixed with the piss-and-rot smell of the woods, but what little blood had poured from the boss’s wounds had already slowed to a trickle.
I backstepped, trying to create distance.
Skill Learned: Footwork
Distance and time are kings in combat, and footwork controls both. Close gaps faster, create space against enemies, and reposition safely and quickly in a chaotic battlefield; these are the keys to setting up victory.
Upgrade Effects:
1. Each rank increases balance and speed.
It wasn’t a flashy skill, but my fencing instructor had drilled footwork into our heads until I thought my ears would bleed. And she’d been right. If I stood in the right spot and reacted to my opponents’ moves, I wouldn’t need to dodge. As long as my opponent couldn’t reach me, I might as well be miles away. Against more aggressive enemies, it’d be tougher to stay on my toes, but it was still a critical part of my next skill.
The boss didn’t give it to me. Two more sets of claws sliced the air inches from my face. My sword was already busy parrying a third arm’s attack. I blocked. Stabbed quickly. But not quickly enough; the sword’s blade scraped skin but failed to cut.
Two things happened at the same time. First, I felt fire across my chest. I looked down; there were three bloody gouges in my hoodie, each a hand’s length long. The blood was already pouring out; I had to lean on my Stamina even more, and it dropped below twenty-five percent.
And second, my sword glanced off the boss’s arm. I had a free shot at her face, and I took it. The rapier punched through her leftmost eye; the boss’s scream almost drowned out the hiss of electrically fried eye fluid—but not the stink of exploded eggs. She reeled back from the wound. At the same moment, her scream slapped me away from her.
I rolled with it. If I kept going, I might be able to hit her a couple more times, but it would cost me my Stamina. I had one good play left.
It was time to spring the trap.
But somehow, in the frantic fight, I’d lost track of where I was. In the moment it took me to get my bearings, I realized my mistake.
The only way to the two trees and my ambush was through the boss.
◄▼►
The Serpentkin Broodwatcher and I maneuvered, its three good eyes locked on me and the fourth a white mass of goop that hadn’t yet healed. I needed an opening to get back to the group. It needed an opening to attack.
Whoever moved first would provide that opening.
And, as much as I hated to say it, I’d have to make the first move. I was hurt. I needed to get to my team. And I was low on Stamina.
Stamina: 32/130 Mana: 43/200
The boss’s eye started reforming, the white goop growing a faint yellow-green sheen and the beginnings of a black slit. It blinked.
Snakes didn’t blink, but this boss did.
I readied myself, bringing the sword up into position. I couldn’t commit to a full Vital Lunge with my Stamina this low; I already felt tired, and the exhaustion would only get worse as it plummeted. But the boss didn’t know that.
I waited. The battle trance washed over me as I stepped forward, just barely outside of the Broodwatcher’s reach. It blinked again, and I launched myself forward. Two sets of clawed arms scythed through the air toward me. At the last second, I stopped the lunge, the wind Script for movement churning the fallen leaves around me as I backpedaled and parried.
My sword clacked off two sets of claws. The other two missed by a fraction of an inch. All four were out of position for a quick stab to the shoulder. It cut deep, but not deep enough to disable the monster’s right arms.
That was fine. I just needed the distraction.
A nearby tree offered cover from the boss’s next volley of attacks. They thumped home as bark tore off, and I stabbed around the left side of the tree, then ducked right. It hadn’t expected that, and for just a moment, it was off-balance.
I pressed the attack, aiming for the boss’s eye again. It jerked a hand up to block; I turned the stab into a cutting motion across its neck. Blood gushed from the wound, then slowed. A flurry of claws ripped toward me; I stepped to the right around them, parrying and dodging as much as I could.
Not enough. Wounds on my sword arm. On my side. The gashes burned, but my blood felt cold. I spun to the right and whipped the Stormsteel rapier across the boss’s torso, opening another thin, cauterized cut.
Then I rolled one more time. The two trees I’d ducked through were right there. I took one step back, toward them. Then another.
Then I broke and ran between them.
And the Serpentkin Broodmother screamed and followed.
My chest heaved like a bellows as I erupted from the trees and into the clearing. Both lightning trap scripts were still active; I passed them and cut left. Javier started running toward me, but I held up a hand. “Wait!” I gasped.
The boss slithered through the gap in the trees a moment later. It surged toward me. I spun, whipped my sword into a middle guard, and braced my feet. Twenty feet. Ten. Five.
The boss hit the first lightning trap Binding, and it went off with a flash that almost seared my eyes. It screamed again, but this time, it wasn’t the same crushing scream. This one was pure agony and frustration. It tried to move toward me, but electricity coursed through its body, and its eyes—all four of them—were screwed shut. Tears flowed freely from all four.
“Now!” I shouted. “Kill it!”
And, as the team moved around me, I took my own advice. The blinded, dazed boss was in range for a Vital Lunge. I readied myself and pushed myself forward off my back foot. My knee bent, and the rapier stabbed forward, into the boss’s neck. This time, it didn’t stop; it punched out of the back. Lightning crackled. Smoke and blood poured from the wound. And, as I pulled my sword free, it started to heal.
But not fast enough. It was on its last legs, and the rest of the team was fresh.
I stepped out of the way as Rob’s mace crashed into the boss’s head. A moment later, fire and shadow ripped across its body as both mages, nearly fresh, unleashed all their power onto the Broodmother. Chunks of flesh disappeared, and skin and scales boiled and bubbled as flames ripped across it.
My Stamina was under ten. I could hardly move, the exhaustion had set in so hard. But I couldn’t stop, either. I had to keep fighting. Until the fight was done. I stabbed and stabbed, aiming for the chunks of missing flesh Ellen had dug out of the boss so I could hit deeper and harder. I stabbed again and again until my arm wouldn’t stab again.
Stamina: 1/130, Mana: 17/200
And then, on my last thrust, the boss finally died.
I unsummoned the Stormsteel Core as the rest of the team stood around the Serpentkin Broodmother, relief and uncertainty washing over them. I didn’t feel either. Instead, an intense, piercing exhaustion had set in, broken up only by a feeling of…not quite satisfaction. The fight hadn’t been enough for the battle trance, but it had been close. I’d tested myself.
And this time, I hadn’t been found wanting. Limited, but not wanting.
I did have a dozen wounds. Gashes covered my arm, my chest, and my side, and I’d lost a lot of blood. The whole ‘solo the boss’ idea had been wildly stupid. I’d been blinded by how easily I’d killed the wolves, and a boss like this one could easily have killed me. Even the wounds it had given me would take days to fully heal, and I’d be out of the game while I recovered.
But the battle trance was satisfied, just like it had been when the teachers pulled a bigger, stronger boy off of me and dragged us to the office in middle school. I’d gotten what I needed. Found my limits.
Now, I just hurt. But it was the kind of hurt that a prize-fighter was happy to feel. The pain of victory.
“Anyone have a medkit?” I asked as a timer appeared in my vision.
Portal Collapse In: 59:54
We had an hour to loot as much as we could.
◄▼►
Ellen considered herself pretty competent for an E-Ranker. She’d been in enough portals to know her role, and she knew what she was about. Her goal, ever since her system had awakened, was to be an asset for her team and never get into a position where she owed them anything after a portal. Her Unique skill, Shadow Box, went a long way toward that by itself, and the build she’d envisioned would take her the rest of the way there.
She understood that E-Rank encompassed everything from a stay-at-home dad fresh off the couch whose system had just awakened to a near-Olympic athlete with a full set of merged skills. It was normal for a group clearing an E to be all over the place in power level, and she was ahead of most of the team, even if she hadn’t gotten many chances to shine.
But the guy with the lightning sword was a maniac. He had no business being here; he should be in D-Rank portals, with a mostly D-Ranked team.
As the boss died, Ellen stared at his wounds. He’d taken more damage than any non-tank should, but somehow, he was still standing. If she’d gotten hit even half that much, she’d be out cold—if she was lucky. Sometimes, the world was incredibly unfair, but Ellen couldn’t help feeling envious.
“Anyone have a medkit?” the striker asked as he unsummoned his ridiculous lightning sword.
Ellen stared at her feet for a moment. Then she hesitantly joined Javier next to the injured man, working as the tank’s assistant as they patched up wounds across the striker’s chest and arms. He was covered in old scars that hadn’t healed fully when he’d awakened.
Scars from before he’d awakened.
As she helped pack his injuries, Ellen couldn’t help but wonder just what this guy’s whole thing was. The only thing she knew for sure was that he was a maniac—and that he was probably her best chance at freedom in a long time.
