Minutes and Seconds

Brando followed her gaze and nearly flung Gleaming Thorn away, sword and scabbard together, with a trembling hand.

What kind of situation was this?

Amid the jagged, crisscrossing rocks below the gorge, shrub-like monsters darted about on one side. They followed Lich Kabuka as it climbed upward, like layers of a black tide surging higher. On the other side, a slender figure in his field of vision was struggling up the rugged mountain path. She carried an enormous pack with a sword hanging from it, and her long ponytail rose and fell with the girl as she leaped across the rock face.

Freya?

Brando rubbed his eyes, almost thinking he had seen wrong. But while he might have been mistaken, Romane would not be. The Merchant's Daughter looked tense—that was Freya. But wasn't she supposed to be heading to Dagger Riverbank with Maden? Why was she here? Brando refused to believe she would abandon her Third Militia Squad.

"It's Freya, Brando."

"I see her. Don't make a fuss. I'll think of something!"

"Brando, Freya will be caught. We have to help her, right—?" The Merchant's Daughter turned back and asked eagerly.

"No, Romane. I don't need your help. I'll think of something."

Unfortunately, he did not even dare let himself panic right now. The situation was delicate, but the key to changing it was not in his hands—it depended on whether Lady Martha was in a good mood today. And unfortunately, it did not seem like she was—

The other side was equally perilous. Brando turned back just in time to see the lich unhesitatingly detach its own lower leg bone, causing the Withered Beast gripping it to slide back into the monster horde. Then it turned over and used its skeletal hands to support itself as it climbed the rocks. Its strength of 1.7 Energy Levels was enough to let a not-too-heavy Bone Frame scramble through the jagged rocks like lightning—but when Kabuka made its final reach upward, it froze.

Kabuka looked up. Reflected in the ghostly green flames within its eye sockets was the shocked and furious face of the young human above. At first, it found the Life Ripple somewhat familiar, but that was of no consequence to an undead creature. It had already raised its Bone Staff and swung it at Brando.

Human scum, it thought.

Brando could no longer worry about anything else. With a sharp clang, he drew his sword. Gleaming Thorn radiated a dazzling light in the darkness as he thrust downward, driving it into Kabuka's skull—there was a faint crack, and golden flames shot from the fissure in the lich's forehead, blazing outward in all directions.

"Ka—" Half of Kabuka's cry caught in its throat. Brando's sword had been so fast that it had not even had time to react before feeling its eternal life reach its end.

It had thought it would become a great lich.

It used all its strength to fall backward, but the young man reached down and grabbed its skeletal hand. Kabuka froze, wondering why the other party wanted to save it. But it was an undead servant destined to return to the Calamity Dragon—how could it accept the aid of a lowly human? As Kabuka struggled with this thought, it saw the other party deftly pull the ring off the bone of its index finger.

"Damn it! Human scum, a thief..."

Three experience points.

That was Kabuka's final thought before the Soul Fire in its eyes went out. Yet Brando was surprised that this lich had possessed a rather decent ring—the Web Ring, +0.2 Perception. The pattern was familiar. He had owned one before and had never thrown it away afterward, as a memento.

Perception represented a character's ability to sense the dimension they occupied, refining their understanding of space and matter through hearing, smell, sight, touch, and taste. It was an extremely important Attribute in the game. Back in Brags, there had been a low-level dungeon called "Public Graveyard." Since open flames could not be used inside, and player parties had to keep avoiding a preset high-level monster through its maze-like underground tunnels, equipment with high Perception and high Agility had once been in great demand.

This ring had been a gift from one of Brando's friends. Thinking back, those days had truly been bitter. He had nearly spent everything he owned assembling a set of Perception gear worth 10 Oz, and in the end, he still had not cleared "Public Graveyard."

Mentioning "Public Graveyard" suddenly reminded him of something excellent for warriors inside that dungeon: the Courage Badge, +2 levels of Military Swordsmanship. He slapped his forehead. He had nearly forgotten about that. Back then, he had spared no expense for that badge.

"Brando, Brando!" Romane's voice was full of anxiety.

Brando's heart skipped a beat. The Merchant's Daughter was not usually this anxious. Had something happened to Freya? He hurriedly threw aside the Bone Frame in his hand and looked back, just in time to see a Withered Beast catch up from behind with Freya, who was racing across the pointed rocks. It extended a branch-like claw, hooked the strap of the girl's pack, and yanked her backward.

"Freya, watch out!" The Merchant's Daughter cried out and rose, lifting her skirt as she tried to run down. But Brando grabbed the girl, who had no idea what was going on, and pulled her back. Was she kidding? How could he let her get in the way at a time like this?

"Stay right here!" He casually tossed the Web Ring to Romane and told her to keep it safe.

There were limits to how many magical items a character could equip. Witches believed it was related to the source of a person's magical power, but as far as Brando was concerned, a level 2 mercenary carrying equipment with a combined strength of 40 Oz was already the absolute limit.

"All right, Brando, but..."

Brando glanced around and realized he was not entirely at ease leaving this reckless Merchant's Daughter here either. When he had drawn Gleaming Thorn earlier, its radiance had illuminated the surroundings, making him a target for everyone. Leaving Romane here now would likely draw attacks as well—

If Little Romanee got hurt, he would never be able to forgive himself. But Freya was in danger too. He had long regarded this determined and kind-hearted girl as one of his most precious companions. How could he stand by and do nothing?

This truly left him in a dilemma.

Of course, all these thoughts passed through Brando's mind in an instant. Below in the valley, Freya struggled free of the Withered Beast's claw, staggered two steps forward, then fell again—she had already spotted the two of them, and a sliver of hope appeared in her panicked Eyes.

"Brando—" Before she could finish calling out, she was dragged back again.

"Draw your sword!" Brando shouted.

"It's tangled around my pack! I can't reach it—"

What an idiot! Brando decisively handed Gleaming Thorn to Romane. "This sword can restrain them. Protect yourself!"

"What about you, Brando?"

The young man shook his head to signal that she should not worry, then turned and ran toward Freya. Damn it, it was not as if this was the first time. Lady Martha loved playing tricks on him—fine, let her.

But just like in the game, monsters always liked picking on the weak first—before he had even descended two levels, a humanoid shrub covered in thorny branches blocked his path.

Withered Beast juvenile, level 7 monster. Strength: 2.2 Energy Levels. Constitution: 3 Energy Levels. Agility: 1.2 Energy Levels. Dark Attribute. Weak to fire. Weak to slashing. Half-resistant to piercing. Memories of the past flowed through Brando's mind. One major characteristic of plant-type monsters was their high Constitution, while Agility was often their weakness—not to mention that this one had a dark Attribute, was weak to fire, and weak to slashing. Gleaming Thorn was practically their natural nemesis.

Unfortunately, he did not have it in hand. He could not help gritting his teeth and cursing this damned situation. The only thing he could rely on now was his Agility of 2.1 Energy Levels. He had no intention of getting tangled up with it.

But the juvenile Withered Beast clearly had no intention of reaching an agreement with him. It rustled as it lunged at him. Though Withered Beasts were humanoid, they ran on all fours, looking just like uncivilized savages.

Brando twisted aside to evade its claws. The sharp branch tips swept across his forehead, leaving several bloody cuts—fortunately, it was not undead, or the Corpse Poison in his body would have worsened further.

But before he could celebrate, a line of ghostly green text appeared across his retina:

Emergency Warning: Paralysis Toxin detected.

Damn it! He had actually forgotten about that. Brando nearly cursed aloud. Since he had always been over level twenty in the past, he could usually sneak around areas inhabited by Withered Beasts. He had completely forgotten that their attacks carried poison. Though it was merely the most insignificant Paralysis Toxin, combined with the Corpse Poison already in his body, it was still unbearable.

But cursing aside, he did not dare delay for even a moment. He pressed both hands against the opponent's thorn-covered claws and pushed with the momentum, then locked onto the dark-red Withered Beast beside Freya and activated Charge.

It was actually an adult.

He could not help taking a deep breath. An adult Withered Beast had strength of 4.7 Energy Levels, even greater than a gargoyle's. First-grade strength was no laughing matter. But something was strange—by rights, if there was an adult Withered Beast there, Freya should have been dragged away long ago.

But no matter what, Brando used the force of the young Withered Beast to send himself flying backward. He twisted around in midair, activated Charge, and suddenly accelerated, vaulting over a stretch of jagged, crisscrossing rocks like a Black Shadow darting from stone to stone.

The distance of several dozen meters vanished in an instant—

"Let go of the backpack, Freya!"

But Freya desperately clung to the backpack and shook her head. One hand gripped a sharp rock jutting out beside her, and she was almost unable to hold on any longer. But Brando finally reached her first. "Duck." He barked the order, drew the longsword from Freya's back in one smooth motion, and sliced through the strap of the backpack held by the adult Withered Beast—

The dark red humanoid shrub immediately toppled backward after losing its balance. It tried to grab hold of something to steady itself, but Brando had already planted a kick in its chest, sending it tumbling into a deep fissure behind it.

Withered Beasts were light. That fall definitely would not kill it, but it would not be finding a way back up anytime soon. Only then did Brando finally breathe a sigh of relief. But when he turned back, his tone became unusually stern.

"Do you have a death wish?!"

Freya looked up at him with bright eyes. Perhaps she had not expected him to get so angry. She pressed her lips together and stubbornly turned her head away.

But Brando suddenly noticed that her hand had been scraped raw and covered in blood. He froze for a moment, unable to bring himself to scold her further. Besides, the danger had not yet passed. He sighed, pulled her to her feet, and said, "I have a lot to ask you, but it can wait. Romane is still waiting for us up there."

"Mm."

Unfortunately, just as Brando was about to turn back, he saw two points of golden light flash into his chest and vanish. Two experience points. He looked up in astonishment—Romane was chasing after them, one hand lifting her skirt and the other holding the Elven Treasure Sword. The young Withered Beast from earlier blocked her path—only for her to cautiously pierce its heart with a single thrust, reducing it to a heap of ashes.

The Merchant's Daughter seemed stunned as well, apparently not expecting the sword in her hand to be so powerful!

"Why did you come down too?" Brando suddenly felt an urge to give this girl a beating.

"But I thought about it seriously, Brando, and I feel like I wouldn't be able to protect myself properly."

Brando was left speechless.