Chương 27

The walk to the northern cliffs was actually incredibly relaxing. The ocean breeze felt great, and the salty air smelled completely real. Rudra kept his hands tucked into the pockets of his heavy brown cloak, humming a terrible, off-key tune to himself as he walked.

"Ten temples," Rudra muttered happily.

"If I clear this one, I get Asterion's Minor Blessing. Plus, Broc said the monsters are grouped up. That means I can farm a mountain of crab meat without having to run around." He was basically heading to a seafood buffet. As he approached the jagged, rocky cliffs, the beach naturally narrowed into a tight chokepoint. Beyond the rocks, he could hear the loud, aggressive clicking of high-level crabs and the splashing of murlocs. But before he could even see the monsters, he saw the players.

A group of about twelve players had set up a makeshift barricade using some driftwood and broken crates. They were all wearing matching beginner iron chest plates, completely blocking the narrow path. On the other side of the barricade, a few of them were carefully luring single crabs away from the massive swarm to farm them safely.

"Halt!" one of the players yelled, pointing a rusty spear at Rudra.

"This hunting zone is currently occupied by the Blood Bastion Guild! Turn around, solo!" Rudra stopped walking. He stared at the guy from behind his dark leather mask.

"You guys already made a guild?" Rudra asked, his voice muffled by the leather.

"The game has literally been out for twelve hours."

"We are highly organized!" a taller player barked, stepping up to the front. He held a basic iron longsword and had a smug grin on his face.

"If you want to hunt here, you have to pay the toll. Five silver coins for two hours of access. Otherwise, get lost." Rudra let out a long, exhausted sigh. Gamers were so predictable. They always tried to monopolize the best grinding spots to bully the solo players. It was exactly the kind of toxic, annoying social interaction he bought the mask to avoid.

"Look, guys," Rudra said politely, keeping his tone calm.

"I don't care about your hunting spot. I just need to get to the ruined altar past the cliffs. I won't even touch your crabs. Excuse me." Rudra stepped forward, trying to casually walk through a gap in the driftwood.

"I said get back!" the leader shouted. Annoyed that a random guy in a ragged brown cloak was ignoring him, the leader swung his iron sword. He didn't aim to kill, just a heavy, flat strike aimed right at Rudra's shoulder to knock him into the sand and teach him a lesson. To a normal Level 5 player, the sword would look dangerously fast. But Rudra was Level 50. His Agility nearing 200 points. To Rudra, the guy looked like he was swinging a pool noodle underwater. It was honestly a little sad to watch.

Rudra didn't step back. He didn't even bother taking his heavy iron-oak staff off his back. He just tilted his upper body slightly to the left. The iron sword completely missed his shoulder, slicing through empty air. Before the leader could even process that he missed, Rudra stepped directly into his personal space. He pulled his right hand out of his cloak pocket, raised it high, and brought it down hard. SMACK! The sharp, echoing crack of an open-handed slap rang out across the beach.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Rudra's 187 Strength flared instantly. The force of the hit spun the leader completely around. The guy's feet left the ground. He flew backward, crashing face-first into the wooden barricade and shattering it into splinters. [Critical Hit!] The leader's health bar instantly plummeted from full to a tiny, blinking red sliver. One more point of damage and he would have been sent straight to the respawn point.

The entire beach went dead silent. The other eleven players froze, their jaws practically hitting the sand. Their leader, who had the best armor in their group, had just been nearly one-shotted by a bare-handed slap. Rudra slowly lowered his hand. He looked at the remaining players, his red eyes glowing faintly from the shadows of his hood.

"Like I said," Rudra muttered, stepping over the groaning leader.

"I'm just passing through." Nobody moved a muscle. They actually scrambled backward, clearing the path completely as Rudra casually walked past them and headed toward the aggressive monster swarm.

"Holy shit," one of the guild members whispered in terror as Rudra faded into the rocks.

"Who the hell is that guy?" …. Rudra stepped past the jagged rocks and into the cove. The beach was absolutely crawling with armored crabs and spear-wielding murlocs. They were snapping and hissing, fighting each other for space on the wet sand.

"Alright," Rudra cracked his neck.

"Let's get to work." He pulled the heavy oak staff from his back. A murloc spotted him and charged, screeching loudly. Rudra didn't even drop into a stance. He just stepped aside, stuck his foot out, and tripped it. As the creature fell face-first into the sand, Rudra casually brought the blunt end of his staff down on its head. Crunch.

"One," he counted. He waded into the swarm. It wasn't a pretty, choreographed fight. It was just a messy, chaotic brawl. He shoved crabs into each other, kicked wet sand into a murloc's eyes, and swung his staff like a baseball bat. He didn't bother using his mana or his skills. He just wanted to clear the beach and stock up his pantry. After twenty minutes of treating the monsters like a buffet line, his inventory was packed with fresh crab claws and murloc meat. He wiped a splash of seawater off his mask.

"That should cover breakfast." He looked around the cleared cove. Tucked inside a dark, shallow sea cave was a crumbling stone archway. Faint blue coral glowed on the pillars. It was the tenth temple of Asterion. Before he could walk over to it, he heard someone swearing loudly.

"Dammit! Hold still, you piece of junk!" An old NPC fisherman was struggling near the rocks. He was trying to tie a small wooden boat to a heavy iron ring, but the incoming waves were crashing hard, yanking the thick rope right out of his blistered hands. Rudra jogged over. He grabbed the slack of the rope, dug his boots into the sand, and pulled hard. The heavy boat slid easily out of the surf and onto the dry rocks. The old man fell back, panting heavily.

"Thank the gods. Bless you, boy."

"No problem," Rudra said, offering a hand to help the man up.

"But why are you out here? Broc the cook told me the beach was too dangerous today." The fisherman let out a dry, hacking cough and pointed a shaky finger at the dark ocean.

"Dangerous is an understatement. It's the Gathering Tide." Rudra tilted his head.

"The what?"

"A massive migration," the old man explained, his eyes wide with fear.

"Every few years, the deep water gets too cold. The beasts swarm the shallows to warm up. Tonight, thousands of them are going to hit the coast." Rudra blinked.

"Thousands?"

"Aye. The Seabreak militia is already barricading the town gates. But we barely have enough men to hold the line." The old man looked closely at Rudra's mask.

"You Immortals... you come back to life when you fall. We don't. A lot of good people are going to die tonight." The fisherman grabbed his net, offered a quick bow, and hurried down the path toward the safety of the town. Rudra stood alone on the beach. Thousands of sea monsters. The arrogant guild guys he just walked past were going to get completely run over. The thousands of Level 1 beginners running around in cloth shirts would be a meat shield for maybe five seconds.

If the monsters broke through the gates, the town was finished. Broc, the nice tailor lady, Gareth... they would all get wiped out permanently.

"Well, that sucks," Rudra sighed, scratching the back of his neck. He looked at the quiet entrance of the tenth temple. The quest could wait. He turned around and jogged straight back toward Seabreak Town. When he reached the main gates, the sun was already starting to set. The local militia soldiers were frantically stacking sandbags and sharpening spears. The atmosphere was completely tense.

Rudra walked a few dozen yards in front of the main gate, standing right in the middle of the dirt road that led to the beach. He stopped and dropped a bundle of firewood onto the ground. He pulled out his iron skillet, a jar of spices, and a massive pile of raw crab meat.

"If I'm going to pull an all-nighter," Rudra muttered to himself, sparking a flint to light the fire, "I am definitely going to need snacks."