There had been a few skirmishes, but he had simply dealt with the monsters with ease, shards of the Void blasting them apart, entire sections of moldering bodies disappearing into the hungry maw of the abyss.

  None of the others had been able to fight yet, as there hadn’t really been an opportunity. Instead, they were heading towards a clearing Jonathan had spotted, which would be more conducive towards essence farming. That way, everyone could be brought up to Tier 4.

  The clearing was about fifty feet in width, centered around an especially tall tree, its boughs dripping with moss. That in turn dripped with an odd, gelid substance, the same color as congealed blood. It looked like some sort of slime mold, and it undulated slightly despite the complete lack of wind.

  Jonathan eyed the tree carefully, but there was nothing threatening about it, save its disconcerting appearance. He nodded in satisfaction, and led the others to the center of the clearing.

  “We need to get the rest of you up to the power curve of this realm. This place seems as good as any to do so,” Jonathan declared, clenching one fist. Then a smile spread across his face, invisible under his helmet. “I want to see what you can do without me and…” he looked around. “Let’s say Arkanon as well. He is stronger than the rest of you. We’ll step in if necessary, but hopefully that won’t be needed. Understood?”

  “Yes,” Edgar replied immediately, followed by the rest. Although none of them particularly wanted to face off against a horde of monsters of unknown strength, it was the best possible way to grow. Tier 4 had been out of the sight of everyone there until Jonathan had arrived, and now with the chance of attaining that rank, they would do anything.

  Jonathan flicked a bolt of purple fire into the air, lighting up the forest for miles around, at least compared to the meager illumination already there. Immediately, he was met with a series of howls, and the noise of crackling sticks and undergrowth as monsters approached. Jonathan and Arkanon leaped onto a nearby tree. As the noise from the forest grew and grew, Jonathan shaped a shield of the Void around himself and Arkanon, wanting to keep them out of the fight.

  Through a slightly hazy purple lens, he watched as the first few creatures barreled out of the woods. A trio of decaying beasts that looked vaguely like deer leaped at the fighters below, showcasing speed that put them firmly within the realm of high Tier 3.

  Horns that ended in flaking bone, falling apart even as the monsters moved, were at the forefront of the charge, and although they looked incredibly flimsy, Jonathan could tell that a current of Death was running through them, making them as obdurate and unyielding as the embrace of the grave itself. Edgar raised his arms, and the wind around him picked up, sharpening into long blades of compressed air. With a series of whooshes, the blades sliced into the monsters.

  This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

  Limbs were severed, and moldering flesh was flayed to the yellowing bone, but the monsters kept coming regardless, unable to feel pain or fear.

  Hushar and Bordeg raced forwards, their weapons converging on the neck of one of the deer. The creature jerked its head violently, and their strikes narrowly missed the target, slicing through its back instead. The undead convulsed, streaking forwards, its antlers speeding towards its assailants. The two Uthraki reversed their weapons, and interposed the hilts between themselves and the horns. Rather than pierce through their armor, Hushar and Bordeg were instead pushed backwards by the antlers, their feet digging into the ground.

  Then they set their feet, and pushed back, sending the monster to the ground. One quick slash from Hushar’s sword sliced through its neck, and left the monster lying on the ground in two halves.

  Meanwhile, the other two beasts charged the larger group, met by Hansel and Andovar, the father and son duo working in concert like they had against the leonid undead earlier. Hansel’s hammer slammed into the side of a monster’s delicate leg, sending it crashing to the ground. Andovar’s sword descended, slicing into its neck. Unlike Hushar, he did not have the brute strength to power through the ligaments and bones, and instead was forced to chop again, sending his weapon straight through the neck. Yet another monster lay unmoving on the ground.

  The last beast was carved apart by Edgar’s wind mastery, and Maranta’s elementalism, seared and sliced in equal measure. Tukar and the last of the group, a woman whose name Jonathan had yet to learn, stood by the sides, not having had an opportunity to fight. The woman was a mage, and there were already a plethora of ranged fighters, at least for how few monsters there were.

  Luckily for those two, however, another wave of beasts approached. Flapping through the trees, a flock of bats, their wings filled with holes and rot, approached. Each flap sent waves of air hissing through the forest, stirring up dust and small sticks.

  Immediately, the mages got to work, all of them attacking the flying monsters. Corpses fell to the ground like rain, crashing through the branches.

  Hushar and the others waited until the monsters came closer, and then leaped into the air, each focused on a single beast. Their weapons fell as an iron hail, battering monsters into the forest floor, bones snapping in a symphony of cracks and pops.

  Jonathan found himself nodding approvingly, but when he turned his gaze to Arkanon, the Uthraki warlord’s face was grim. “If they can kill those beasts in one hit, they should be doing so faster. They need to get better at working in a team.”

  “In what way? As far as I can tell, they are, especially Andovar and Hansel.”

  Arkanon waved his hand dismissively. “Those two are related. They had fought together for decades before this. I mean cohesion between everyone in the group.”

  “You mean supporting each other’s abilities?” Jonathan asked.

  “Exactly. The mages could empower their attacks easily. Edgar can fan the flames of Maranta’s elemental attacks.”

  Jonathan looked back at his allies, feeling a little bit less pride, now that Arkanon had provided context. All of them were still trying to fight as individuals, while they were a group. Although their Tier 3 stats allowed them to adapt to each other’s fighting styles, it was far less efficient than if they had been in sync from the beginning.