The next day, in the Blood Moor.
Leo's party pressed on with their monotonous grind. Luck was especially bad—rain drizzled from the sky, cutting visibility and slowing their pace, while monsters grew scarce.
They often passed other groups, each more than ten people strong. Safer, yes, but progress would surely be slow.
It looked like they'd have to push farther out. If necessary, they'd spend the night in the wilds. Strength needed to be raised quickly, to seize the advantage in clearing the Den of Evil.
By the time hunger gnawed at them, not a single monster had been found. It must already be noon. They picked a high spot, threw together a simple shelter from the rain, and Gotti busied herself cooking lunch again.
Leo shared his plan to spend the night outside. The camp's surroundings were nearly swept clean of monsters, and no one knew when they'd respawn. Grinding in the wilds was the only way to keep ahead. Maijessie and Gotti both agreed.
After eating, they finally found scattered Fallen, four or five at a time—probably survivors of the earlier sweeps. With his newfound strength, Leo crushed them with ease.
Most of the day was spent trekking. By midafternoon, they had moved beyond their previously explored range.
Not long after, they came across a band of zombies. Leading them was a red-skinned brute with a retinue of minions—clearly a champion.
\[Black Pearl, Level 39, Fire Enchanted.]
Leo's first time facing this kind of foe. In his past life's game, champions always appeared as a golden leader backed by elites. Their odd behavior was well known: attacked from outside their vision, the struck minions would advance, but only so far before retreating. Unless the leader itself was targeted—then the whole pack swarmed. Today Leo wanted to test if Taunt could pull the minions separately.
No matter the outcome, they had stamina potions—an insurance policy.
The trio buffed up and crept to spell range. Gotti cast Taunt on one of the edge zombies. The creature went berserk and charged. The others barely stirred.
While Gotti kept pulling, Leo blocked its retreat with his Gothic Shield.
A resounding crash shook through him. Hard to hold, but manageable. Relieved, Leo retaliated.
His Shield Bash triggered knockback, crushing blow, bleed, and stun. The zombie's arm bent grotesquely. While it reeled, Leo swung The Tooth with Sacrifice, slicing the other arm clean.
Unfazed by pain, the armless thing lunged with its teeth—only to be bashed again, skull bursting under the crushing blow. Blood and brains splattered wide. It collapsed.
The three repeated the tactic, dragging and killing each elite one by one. Experience rained down. They reached level 10, with surplus to spare. Soon, only the golden leader remained.
Leo eyed it. The strongest foe in the Blood Moor.
The party readied themselves. Leo exhaled, switched to javelin, and struck. The leader lumbered forward, thankfully without speed boost.
Leo's Shield Bash landed first, drawing blood and knocking it back. It countered, claws swiping—but the distance spoiled the blow. No stun effect; champions resisted that.
It recovered instantly, surging again. Leo braced and smashed at its claws, praying for a crushing blow.
Luck favored him—triggered! One-fifth of its life gone. But its strength was terrifying; the impact hurled Leo through the air.
The women panicked—Taunt and Psychic Hammer flared, but neither skill worked reliably against such a foe.
Still, Leo had blocked the blow—no damage taken. He rolled like a lazy mule, tumbling under the leader's feet. From the ground, his prone axe attack struck its ankle, Sacrifice enhancing the blow. Another lucky crushing blow—its foot was severed.
The champion, stiff and stupid, flailed uselessly against his rolling tactics. Leo grinned and kept at it, rolling and hacking at its lower body.
Persistence paid off. The other foot came off. The monster toppled with a heavy crash.
Even crawling, it clawed toward them, but its end was near. Leo's javelin finished it, its body swelling and detonating in a fiery blast.
They'd stayed just far enough to avoid the brunt.
But Leo, already covered in black muck, bore the worst. Now drenched in rotting flesh, he stank so foully he ripped off his helm and vomited until bile came up.
Unable to stand it, he dove into a muddy pool, rolling in it for relief—an accidental mud bath.
Maijessie went pale and fled, unwilling to even look.
Gotti alone showed loyalty, stepping forward as if to help, only to realize there was nothing she could do but watch him wallow.
At last Leo cleaned himself off, while Gotti finished looting.
The haul was good: two white items, one blue, and a strange stone. He called the others over to inspect it.
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