The goblin shaman rose from her seat like she had all the time in the world.
Corrin, unfortunately, did not.
He bolted immediately to the springs nearby.
"Okay, okay—priorities."
The herbs were right there. Pale, faintly glowing, and practically begging to be picked. Corin dropped to a knee, yanked a whole cluster free in one savage motion, and stuffed them into his pocket without even checking the condition.
Future Corrin would hate him for that.
But Present Corrin had other priorities, like not dying.
In front of him, the goblin shaman lifted her staff again.
Corrin grinned, already moving.
"Fine," he muttered. "Guess we're doing this the hard way."
He pulled out a rusty dagger as the goblin shaman slammed her staff into the ground.
The spring rippled, and something plopped out of it.
Corrin skidded to a stop just in time to see a translucent blob ooze its way free, wobbling as it stretched upward into a vaguely threatening shape.
"...And there it is."
The slime jiggled once. Corrin was caught by surprise. From this view it even looked a bit…cute?
But the illusion was quickly broken as the creature lunged.
Corrin barely hopped back in time, the thing slamming into the stone with a wet splat that left a sticky residue behind.
The slime recovered and planted itself squarely between him and the shaman, wobbling in place like it was daring him to try something funny. Every time Corrin shifted, it did too, copying him in the most impossibly stubborn way.
Behind it, the shaman raised her staff again.
"Yeah, no," Corrin said. "I'm not doing a 2v1 with a mage."
He darted left.
The slime followed.
He darted right.
The slime followed again, stretching unnaturally to block the angle, absorbing a quick slash from his dagger without so much as flinching.
The blade sank in.
And stayed there.
"…Oh, that's gross."
Corrin yanked his dagger free just as the shaman finished her spell.
A dull green sigil flared beneath his feet.
His legs suddenly felt like they'd been dumped waist-deep into mud.
"Oh come on," he groaned, staggering as his momentum died instantly.
[Movement speed reduced.]
The slime surged forward, slamming into him hard with all its weight. Corrin barely had time to react. With his speed gutted, dodging wasn't happening—
So he crossed his arms and braced.
The impact hit like a freight train.His feet left the ground, breath tearing out of his lungs as he went flying across the chamber.
"—Ggaahh!"
Pain detonated through his back and ribs, stealing the rest of the air from his chest. He slid down the stone, vision blurring as something warm trickled down his skin.
For a terrifying second, his body just… didn't move.
Not because he didn't want it to.
Because it wouldn't.
Corrin coughed, the sound rough and wrong, and forced his arms to work. His fingers scraped against the floor as he dragged himself upright, every breath heavy.
[HP: 72/100]
Okay. Okay.
His HP dropped in a chunk that made his stomach twist.
"…Right," he muttered. "That's—new."
Back when Myth Online was a VRMMORPG, pain had always been optional.
A slider that was meant mostly as a warning buzz for new players.
Even at max immersion, it was never supposed to hurt. Not like this.
Corrin swallowed, forcing himself to breathe slowly as the ache pulsed in time with his heartbeat.
His HP ticked down, but for once, the number felt… secondary.
If this were still just VR, he'd be fine. He'd tank another hit, chug a potion, brute-force his way through like always.
But this?
If he messed up here, really messed up—there was no headset to rip off. No system prompt asking if he wanted to log out.
No respawn.
Game over.
The slime wobbled closer, patient in the way only something stupid and durable could be. Behind it, the goblin shaman stood unmoving, as she concentrated on the debuff.
Corrin looked at them, jaw tightening.
"…Okay," he said quietly.
The word wasn't resignation.
It was acceptance.
This wasn't a VR run anymore. It wasn't a challenge mode. It wasn't even a game.
It was real.
Corrin straightened, rolling his shoulders once despite the protest it earned him. His grip tightened around his dagger, knuckles whitening.
"Guess I'd better lock in," he muttered.
The slime charged again.
But this time, he stayed calm.
The slime was almost on him, its surface already brushing his coat—
It was finally then, that Corrin moved.
He twisted at the last possible 'frame', muscles screaming in protest as the slow debuff dragged at his legs. The slime rushed past him with a wet roar, missing by inches as it smashed into the stone behind him instead.
Corrin didn't look back.
His hand was already moving.
The dagger left his fingers in a clean motion. It spun through the air, straight toward the shaman.
Its eyes widened, as the blade collided with the wood staff, spell breaking instantly.
The backlash forced the shaman to stumble as her concentration snapped.
Corrin felt it instantly.
The weight vanished.
"There we go."
His legs responded immediately, the sluggish drag like a ton of weight had been dropped. Pain still flared along his ribs, but now it was sharp and manageable; something he could work around.
Behind him, the slime surged forward again, stubborn as ever.
Good.
Corrin didn't slow down.
He sprinted straight toward the shaman, boots hammering against stone. Her eyes flicked in panic and fear, exactly what he wanted.
The shaman reacted on instinct, staff swinging as she began another cast, magic flaring outward in a straight beam meant to catch him.
Corrin waited.
Closer, and closer…until he slipped sideways at the last possible moment.
The spell screamed past his shoulder and slammed directly into the slime.
The effect was instant.
The gelatinous mass seized up mid-charge, its body locking as green sigils crawled across its surface. Paralyzed.
Corrin pivoted without breaking stride, snatching his fallen dagger off the stone as he passed.
"Perfect," he muttered.
Corrin drove the blade straight into the center of the immobilized mass.
The resistance vanished all at once.
The core cracked, visible fissures spilling out as the slime collapsed into itself, dissolving into a harmless puddle that soaked into the stone floor.
Corrin straightened slowly, chest heaving as he wiped the blade clean.
"…One down."
Across the room, the goblin shaman took an involuntary step back.
Corrin noticed.
He also noticed the way her eyes flicked to the dissolving puddle on the floor. The way her grip tightened on the staff. The way her confidence wavered, just for a beat.
That was enough.
Corrin let his shoulders sag.
Just a little.
He exhaled loudly, like the fight had finally caught up to him, and staggered half a step before catching himself. One hand pressed to his side, fingers digging in as if the pain there had suddenly become unbearable.
It wasn't a lie.
But it wasn't the truth either.
His gaze dropped briefly to his dagger.
The blade was ruined. Fractures spidered across the edge, the metal dull and rusted.
[Durability: Critical].
"…One hit," he thought. "Gotta make it count."
He lifted his head again, meeting the shaman's gaze.
Corrin stood there, intentionally vulnerable to see what the shaman would do.
And as if she was born yesterday, the goblin took the bait.
Then she raised her staff.
Green light pooled at the tip, thicker than before, heavier.
Poison magic. The kind meant to finish someone who couldn't dodge anymore.
Corrin didn't move.
The spell hit him square in the chest.
Cold flooded his veins, sharp and invasive, and his HP began to tick down in steady, unforgiving drops. Corrin sucked in a breath and let himself drop to one knee, bracing on his dagger as if it were the only thing keeping him upright.
The pain was real, but it had brought him just enough time, and opportunity.
"GUKHAHAHA!" the shaman laugh manically.
She stepped forward, already lifting her staff again, convinced the fight was finally over.
That was until Corrin pushed off the floor.
Pain screamed as he forced his body to obey, poison burning through his system as he vanished from her front in a blur of motion.
Her eyes widened.
Too late.
Corrin was already behind her.
With one hand, he snapped open the system mid-step, the familiar interface blooming into existence without slowing him down.
Unassigned Skill Points: 1
His finger didn't hesitate.
[Thief — Class Skills.]
There it was.
The only good skill that the Thief had, one that was viable in PvP and matched up to even the highest DPS classes.
Backstab.
Corrin confirmed it.
The skill locked in with a soft chime.
He raised his dagger.
And struck.
[Critical Hit!]
The goblin shaman didn't scream.
She didn't have time.
Corrin's blade sank in, and the world seemed to pause for a fraction of a second, then the shaman simply… came apart. Her body dissolved into motes of light, the staff clattering uselessly to the floor before fading with her.
The knife shattered in his hands, but he didn't care.
Corrin staggered immediately.
The adrenaline vanished all at once, leaving only the poison.
His legs buckled and he dropped to one knee, then both, breath coming out in ragged pulls as his vision dimmed at the edges.
HP: 12… 11… 10…
"…Don't stop," he muttered, forcing his hands to move.
He crawled toward the remains of the slime, fingers plunging into the fading residue.
Got you.
He kept it in one hand and lurched toward the spring, barely managing to dip a fresh vial into the glowing water before his arm gave out.
HP: 7… 6…
Corrin slammed his back against the stone, shaking hands already pulling open the crafting interface.
The menu flickered into existence.
Consumables → Health Potion (Minor)
Ingredients detected.
"…Craft," he whispered.
The bar filled.
Slowly.
Pain pulsed through his chest with every beat of his heart, poison burning through his veins as his vision tunneled.
HP: 4… 3…
The potion formed in his hand.
Corrin stared at it.
Not yet.
He watched the number tick down, breath held, every instinct screaming at him to drink early.
HP: 2… 1…
"…Now."
He drank the vial.
HP: 0
And the world went dark.