The two groups stood facing each other: one with five members, the other with four.
The leader of the smaller group was fuming with anger.
"Birdsoar, you bunch of shameless bastards! Was it really worth kicking us out of the party and killing Skyblade over a lousy bronze-grade bracer?!"
Across from him, a bald man with a red coloured name smirked, casually swinging a massive greatsword that glimmered with a faint white mist.
"Lousy? Really, Slashblade? With that garbage gear of yours, you still dare talk down on a bronze bracer? Let me correct you, though: killing him wasn't just about the bracer. I've had my eyes on his silver-grade greatsword for a long time.
If he hadn't gone red-named, I wouldn't have had the chance!"
Slashblade's face turned beet red with rage.
"He went red because he racked up the most kills while we were fighting over leveling spots! How else do you think we leveled up to 4 so quickly?!"
A mocking laugh erupted from the other side as one of Birdsoar's mages spoke, winking at his teammates.
"Wow, they're dumber than I thought. Of course, we left the weakest members for him to kill so he'd go red! That way, we'd have a chance to make his gear drop. Hahaha!"
The five-man group chatted freely, not even bothering to lower their voices as if Slashblade and his team didn't exist.
"You… you all…" Slashblade stammered, too enraged to form words.
Watching from the shadows, Ethan pieced together the situation. It seemed to be a classic case of betrayal over loot. What caught his attention, however, was the name Birdsoar. He'd just seen it ranked on the leaderboard moments ago and now stumbled upon this scene.
'Wait—did they say the dead guy was Skyblade?'
Ethan's eyes narrowed as he glanced at the corpse on the ground. A cold, menacing air surrounded him.
"Enough of this crap. Get lost already!" the bald man barked. "You trash think we actually wanted you in our party? You were just slowing down our grind!"
"Yeah, don't make us wipe the floor with you. At worst, we'll rack up a couple more red-names and spend a day or two avoiding town," another chimed in smugly.
Slashblade looked at his team, desperation in his eyes.
"We should retreat, Slashblade. We can't win this fight," suggested a nervous mage behind him.
The archer nodded immediately. "Skyblade told us to leave anyway. Forget the gear, it's not worth it. If we all die here, they'll just camp our corpses, and we won't even get a chance to respawn!"
Slashblade's gaze shifted to the team's paladin, who didn't hesitate.
The paladin stepped forward, drawing his massive sword. "Let's go down swinging, Slashblade."
With a heavy heart, Slashblade nodded and glanced at the rogue lingering at the back of their party. But the rogue avoided his gaze, took two steps back, and vanished into stealth.
[System Notice: Leafshade has left your party.]
Slashblade chuckled bitterly. Betrayal at its finest. As the archer and mage also quit the group and fled toward safer territory, Slashblade turned to the paladin beside him.
"Looks like it's just you, me, and Skyblade now. Let's join him, we'll start over if we have to."
The paladin smirked, his grip tightening on his sword. "No big deal. We've never backed down in real life; why should a game be any different? Pull out your best gear. Who knows? We might take a couple of them down with us."
Before the two could make their final stand, chaos erupted on the other side.
"Damn it—we've got a rogue!"
Ethan's approach had almost been perfect. Even with a level advantage, Birdsoar had sensed him the moment he got within two meters.
'So, the guy had perception-boosting gear, huh?'
If not, then this guy was undeniably skilled. Yet in his previous life, Ethan hadn't heard of anyone .
Before Birdsoar could finish his sentence, Ethan pounced.
In a blur, he tackled the rogue behind Birdsoar, the one whose body had just started fading into stealth. The surprise attack broke the rogue's concealment instantly.
The rogue staggered, stunned for five seconds, as blood began to flow steadily from his wounds.
Leaving the immobilized rogue behind, Ethan spun on his heels, lunging at the mage standing nearby.
Grabbing the helmet that fell from the mage's corpse, Ethan bolted straight toward the shield tank.
In less than two seconds, Birdsoar's group had one man dead and another incapacitated.
The rogue, meanwhile, was as good as dead. With no priests in their party, and even if they had one, none at this level would have access to healing spells, there was no saving him.
The Rake effect drained a sixth of his health every second. Even if he survived the stun and chugged the strongest healing potion available, all he'd achieve was delaying the inevitable.
Rake's bleed lasted for 18 seconds.
To their credit, the rest of Birdsoar's team reacted quickly. The warlock ducked behind the shield tank, summoning two imps with a wave of his hand. Then he began channeling Destruction Bolt, while the imps launched their Firebolts.
Birdsoar charged forward, intent on intercepting Ethan.
Ethan glanced at him with disdain.
If he wanted to, Ethan could kill Birdsoar with a single Shred. But where was the satisfaction in that?
No, Birdsoar wouldn't get off that easily. Killing him just once wouldn't suffice as revenge for Skyblade. Hunting him down until he was reduced to Level 0 would take too much time, but…
Torture? That sounded about right.
Ethan's lips curled into a sinister smile.
First, he'd deal with the other players. Once Birdsoar's lackeys were gone, Ethan would finish him off without giving his teammates a chance to pick up his dropped gear.
Birdsoar's greatsword gleamed with a silvery glow, it must have been the one that had dropped from Skyblade.
With a powerful leap, Birdsoar raised the massive weapon high above his head, aiming a crushing downward strike at Ethan.
The blade whistled through the air, closing in on Ethan's panther form.
Just as the sword was about to connect, Ethan's body compressed. His 1.5-meter frame seemed to fold in on itself as his back arched, his paws pulled in tight, and his chest pressed against his belly.
Ethan didn't know Birdsoar's exact attack power, but he doubted it could penetrate his defense. Still, there was no need to reveal too much too soon.
In Ethereal, ranged attacks had auto-tracking mechanics that required either well-timed rolls or obstacles to avoid. Melee strikes, however, could be evaded with precise movement, something martial artists, fighters, or anyone with combat experience had a natural edge in.
For Ethan, who had spent years being hunted in his past life, this kind of attack was child's play. Birdsoar's move was akin to a toddler swinging a wooden sword at him.
The panther's flexibility made such evasive maneuvers almost effortless.
Birdsoar's blade struck nothing but air. He froze for a moment, stunned by the bizarre motion.
'What kind of move was that? How did he dodge that?'
By the time Birdsoar turned around, Ethan was already within three meters of the shield tank.
Birdsoar gritted his teeth and chased after him, unwilling to let Ethan escape.
He wasn't too worried, though. The shield tank was the best-equipped member of their team. Unlike the rogue and mage, the tank wouldn't fall to a sneak attack.
If Ethan engaged the tank head-on, one well-placed shield bash would knock him back.
And the warlock's Destruction Bolt was almost ready to fire. Once that happened, Ethan would be dead for sure.
As Ethan closed the gap to the tank, the two imps fired their Firebolts. Twin projectiles streaked toward him, their fiery trails converging in a deadly crossfire.
Just before impact, Ethan's hind legs kicked off the ground, launching him forward in a burst of speed.
The flames exploded behind him with a deafening roar, sending shockwaves through the air.
"Damn it! Slashblade, let's help him!" shouted the Paladin from behind.