08. First Party (4)
Alden braced himself, shield raised high, angled to catch the brunt of incoming strikes. Just behind him, Archie took a few calculated steps backward, redirecting the enemies' natural aggression toward Alden, the one visibly bearing the shield and standing at the front.
The classic tank strategy. Draw aggro. Hold the line.
Crashes echoed from all sides as the Imp swarm descended. Wooden clubs and bone spears hammered against Alden's Bronze Shield with savage force, the impacts reverberating up his arm. His defenses began to buckle almost immediately under the sheer volume of attacks. He wasn't strong enough yet—not at level five, not with these stats—to hold off fifteen enemies simultaneously.
One of their stone weapons slipped past his guard, striking him squarely in the shoulder. The pain was sharp and searing, real in a way that made his previous life's papercuts seem laughable. Another blow landed against his exposed thigh before he managed to duck fully behind his Bronze Shield again, hunching to minimize his profile.
[Health: 460/500]
"Take this!" Archie roared from behind him, driving his blazing spear forward in a powerful thrust. The weapon punched through one Imp's chest, and flames immediately burst from the impact point, exploding outward in a cone. Fire licked out and engulfed four more Imps caught in the area of effect.
The flames didn't dissipate like normal fire. They clung to the creatures, persistent and hungry, burning for a full ten seconds. Long enough to inflict consistent damage over time even as Archie withdrew his spear and repositioned. The Vanguard Lancer's reach was impressive, his damage output substantial.
But the Imps kept advancing from multiple directions, and the sheer pressure forced Alden to struggle beneath their concentrated numbers. His stamina was draining faster than he'd expected from constant blocking.
"Watch out on the right!" Evaron shouted, dropping smoothly to one knee. His hand glowed with brilliant white energy as he drew back his conjured bowstring, an arrow of pure condensed light forming between his fingers. "I've got this side!"
He released. The arrow streaked forward like a comet. Unlike Archie's area attack, Evaron's shot was precision damage—high, concentrated, lethal. The light arrow pierced through one Imp's skull, continued without slowing, punched through a second target's chest, and then detonated in a violent blast of radiant energy. The explosion cleared out five Imps in an instant, their bodies disintegrating into ash and light.
"Move forward, Warrior!" Carius barked, his analytical gaze sweeping across the entire battlefield as enemies continued pouring in from the forest edge. "We need to tighten our formation before they surround us. I'll handle the frontal approach!"
Carius raised his crescent-tipped staff with both hands. The weapon began floating in the air before him, completely unsupported, pulsing with a blend of deep black and violet light. Reality seemed to distort around it, the air shimmering like heat haze.
With a slow motion, Carius extended both hands outward and then brought them gradually together—as if physically folding the fabric of space itself between his palms.
At once, a rift tore open in the air directly in front of the advancing Imp horde. The dimensional tear mirrored his gesture, expanding to the size of a doorway. From within that impossible void, cosmic particles surged forward. Thousands upon thousands of tiny points of starlight, fast and countless and relentless. Like an astral river spilling through a breach in reality itself.
The individual damage from each particle was minuscule—maybe one or two points each. But the sheer number of hits was staggering, dozens impacting every single second in a sustained barrage. More importantly, the cosmic stream slowed the enemies caught in it, their movements becoming sluggish and labored as if time itself had thickened around them like molasses.
It was devastating crowd control combined with death by a thousand cuts.
But even with three powerful damage dealers working in coordination, it still wasn't enough to stem the tide.
One entire side of the battlefield was well-covered by Carius's spell. The other flanks were managed by Evaron's precision shots and Archie's flame attacks. But gaps remained. Weak points in their formation where Imps slipped through, forcing close combat.
Archie could no longer safely hide in Alden's defensive shadow and contribute from relative safety. He had to actively engage, stepping forward into danger.
The Lancer sprang into dynamic action, spinning his spear in a complex flourish behind his back before channeling power into another skill. With a wide, sweeping horizontal slash, a crescent wave of pure fire erupted from his blade, arcing outward in a semicircle. The flame wave consumed the entire frontline of approaching Imps, their screams brief before being silenced by the inferno.
It was enough to clear an immediate path and relieve pressure. But the attack didn't penetrate deep enough to reach the middle ranks of the swarm still pushing forward.
Alden, meanwhile, continued holding his assigned position at the defensive line. His Unique-tier Bronze Shield absorbed blow after blow, each brutal impact chipping away at his stamina bar. But the shield's passive effect was working as intended—after three consecutive blocks, the bonus defense activated, and the stamina cost reduction became noticeable.
He could reposition more quickly across the small battlefield, his movements sharp despite the chaos.
Even so, his Block Absorption stat of only ten percent wasn't nearly strong enough. He still took chip damage with every hit that connected, but they added up quickly into a dangerous cumulative total. When his Circle Slash came off cooldown, Alden used it immediately, the spinning flame attack creating precious breathing room and reinforcing his defense by destroying the closest threats.
[Wave 5]
Time blurred. Waves came and went in a grinding rhythm. The team held their ground through discipline and coordination. Everyone's health bars remained comfortably above fifty percent, their strategy working smoothly.
Everyone except Alden.
His health had been steadily dropping—not catastrophically, but persistently. He was taking more cumulative damage than anyone else by virtue of his role, standing at the front and drawing the most aggression.
[Health: 280/500]
Then disaster struck.
A particularly large Imp—one of the Imp Warriors, distinguishable by its crude iron helmet and superior equipment—slammed a heavy stone mace directly into Alden's shield with tremendous force.
The impact was completely different from the previous attacks, carrying shocking weight behind it. The blow staggered Alden backward, his feet sliding across the stone platform. Worse, the sheer force knocked his shield wide open, his defensive posture completely broken.
Surrounded by a dozen enemies and still reeling from the stunning blow, Alden couldn't dodge in time. Couldn't raise his shield back into position fast enough. He could only brace himself and try to endure the inevitable storm of attacks.
They came from every angle. Sword slashes opened cuts across his arms. Brutal club strikes hammered into his ribs. An upward blow from a bone spear caught him under the chin, snapping his head back violently. The combined force of multiple simultaneous hits actually lifted Alden off his feet and flung him backward.
He hit the ground hard, the impact driving the air from his lungs. As the world spun sickeningly around him, Alden caught a brief glimpse through the chaos of Serina in action. The Crimson Witch, their support, maintaining Archie's health with her blood magic.
And in that crystallizing moment of clarity, as pain radiated through his battered body, Alden understood with terrible certainty: He wasn't truly part of this team. He never had been.
Serina's role was vital. Keeping the damage dealers alive so they could maintain their output. She performed her job flawlessly, her blood manipulation maintaining Archie's health at a comfortable seventy percent or higher.
The mechanics were visible now that Alden was paying attention: each strike an enemy landed on her designated target was partially converted into healing. She, in turn, only received thirty percent of that redirected damage herself.
It was an incredibly efficient support ability. Because Serina stayed in the safest part of their formation, protected by the frontline, she rarely had to worry about being directly attacked. The damage she received from her own ability could be easily self-healed with her other spells.
But what cut deeper than any Imp weapon was this: She had never once chosen Alden as her healing target. Not even as a backup option when Archie was at full health. Not even when Alden's health was visibly critical.
It was as if he simply didn't exist in her strategic calculations.
Abandoned. Left to suffer alone while the rest of the team functioned as a well-oiled machine around him. At this point, with this realization burning in his chest... did it really even matter if he died here?
A towering Imp loomed into view above him. Another Warrior variant, this one wielding a massive two-handed hammer that looked like it had been carved from solid stone. The creature raised its weapon high overhead with both hands, muscles bunching beneath its skin.
The hammer came crashing down toward Alden.
He rolled desperately to the side at the last possible instant, the stone weapon missing his head by inches and slamming into the platform where he'd just been lying. The impact was so forceful it cracked the ancient stone. But even though the direct hit missed, the shockwave from the blow still caught Alden, lifting him and sending him tumbling across the ground.
[Health: 240/500]
Alden lay there for a moment, gasping, blood in his mouth. He looked toward his teammates, hoping for—what? Help? Concern? Acknowledgment?
No one looked his way. Not one of them spared him even a glance. Archie was engaged with a cluster of Imps, his spear spinning. Evaron was firing arrow after arrow with mechanical precision. Carius maintained his cosmic rift spell, eyes closed in concentration. Serina continued her healing rotation, focused on Archie.
It was as if they'd collectively decided to let him die. To sacrifice the expendable tank and finish the mission with four members instead of five.
But if he did die here—what would actually happen to him? Would he respawn? And if he somehow lived, if he endured this betrayal and survived... he would still earn the quest reward. Gain the experience. Claim his share of the loot.
Maybe... maybe that would be enough. Maybe he could finally be free of people like this.
Though every bone ached, though his muscles screamed in protest, Alden forced himself to rise. The shield in his left hand cracked now, its sustain degraded significantly. Sword in his right hand, still reliable.
[Ancient Silver Sword Sustain: 40%]
[Refined Bronze Shield Sustain: 30%]
Drawing a deep, shuddering breath, Alden steadied himself as another wave of Imps began closing in from the forest edge. The final wave, according to the timer counting down in the corner of his vision.
"If no one believes in me," he whispered, his voice hoarse, "then I'll believe in myself. I have to survive. For myself. Not for them."
His grip tightened on his weapons. His stance shifted from defensive to aggressive.
And then Alden charged forward, completely abandoning his assigned defensive position. Defying the team's command to hold the line and be their damage sponge. He ran directly into the Imp horde with his sword raised, ready to take the fight to them on his own terms.
Serina turned, her eyes widening in shock beneath her wide-brimmed hat. "What is that idiot doing?! I knew that Gatekeeper was useless from the start!"
[Final Wave]
[00:59]
Archie glanced sharply at Serina, his expression unreadable. "Now. Do it, Serina."
She didn't hesitate. Her hands moved through complex gestures, dark energy swirling between her fingers. This time, her healing buff wasn't cast on Archie as usual but on Alden, glowing with a sickly red aura that wrapped around his body.
Thanks to the spell, Alden's health began to recover incrementally, bit by bit, with each hit the enemies landed on him. Each strike now converted partially to healing.
But there was a terrible catch that Alden realized too late. The spell also redirected enemy aggression entirely onto the designated target. Every single Imp in the arena—dozens of them—suddenly turned their glowing red eyes toward Alden simultaneously. Their focus shifted from the party as a whole to him specifically.
From every angle, Alden was battered with overwhelming force. His health dropped precipitously despite the healing. Even Serina's ability couldn't keep pace with the sheer volume of incoming damage.
[Health: 180/500]
[Refined Bronze Shield Sustain: 10%]
His defense crumbled under the assault. His Bronze Shield finally shattered, breaking apart into fragments that dissolved into light. His skills were all still on cooldown—Circle Slash wouldn't be available for another four seconds. He had nothing left to defend himself with except his sword and his desperate will to survive.
And his teammates? They just stood there in their safe formation. Watching. Not casting a single skill. Not taking a single step forward to help.
Were they simply waiting for the mission timer to run out, content to let him suffer and die while they collected the reward?
Even Archie, the one who had smiled and clapped him on the shoulder and spoken of partnership and belief, even he showed his true colors now. Standing safely back, spear lowered, making no move to intervene.
Alden understood finally. He was alone. He had always been alone, in both lives. Nothing had changed except the world around him.
[Health: 50/500]
Alden collapsed, his sword slipping from nerveless fingers. He could barely breathe, each shallow gasp sending spikes of pain through his broken ribs. His vision blurred at the edges, darkness creeping in. Sound faded into a high-pitched ringing that drowned out everything else.
It was over. He'd failed again. Trusted the wrong people again. Died alone again.
[00:00]
[All Waves Completed]
[Quest: Clear the Swarm of Imps: Success]
In the encroaching darkness, faint lights flickered at the edges of Alden's fading consciousness. But cutting through the haze of pain and approaching death, a voice spoke. Not Carius. Not Evaron. Not Serina.
Archie.
His voice was different now. Deep, cold, devoid of the friendly warmth it had carried before. Devoid of remorse or guilt or anything resembling human empathy.
"All thanks to you, Warrior," Archie said, and Alden could hear the smile in his voice even without seeing it.
"I've been scouting Firstden for days looking for a newbie just like you. So desperate. So easy to manipulate. So eager to prove yourself worthy, to be accepted."
"Without someone like you to be disposable... we never could've finished this task at our level. The damage requirements are too high."
"This world's nothing but a competition, you see. Survival of the fittest. The strong rise, and the weak… the weak are meant to stay behind. As failures. As NPCs. As nothing."
Footsteps. The sound of the party walking away, their laughter echoing as the dimensional barrier began to dissolve.












