Standing atop the hillside, Orson swung his starter staff, unleashing a brutal high-ground assault! He chained together a rapid three-shot fireball combo, weaving in basic attacks to cancel out the sluggish start-up of his Touch of the Flame Serpent spell. The sequence flowed seamlessly, almost like a single, unbroken skill.
Boom!
-1557!
-1440!
A flurry of red damage numbers flashed across the screen. With each combo of spells and basic attacks, Orson's damage output surpassed even his passive burn effects.
Orson nodded in satisfaction. Once he reached level 20 and crafted his legendary weapon with the Emerald Gem, his damage would see a dramatic boost. Nearby, Blank, hidden under her mask, couldn't help but gape, a flurry of questions filling her mind.
"Did he just… really pull that off? And… it is kinda long…" she murmured to herself, cheeks reddening before she snapped herself out of it. "Ugh, no! Focus!"
The four NPCs were disoriented, momentarily frozen by the surprise bombardment. Orson's onslaught focused on the two front-line warriors and the mage, leaving the priest for Blank to take down with stealth attacks.
"By the pure and holy light, I beseech thee… heal us all!" The priest NPC began chanting a healing spell.
"Interrupt him!" Orson barked.
Before he could finish, Blank darted in, her dagger piercing the priest with a cold efficiency that halted his spell.
"Not bad; you're pretty sharp," Orson said approvingly.
The NPCs were quick to recover, though, moving with surprising speed and awareness. Orson cursed as a few of his basic attacks whiffed. "It's too dark here. Report their coordinates!"
Blank felt a jolt. "Wait… his range is even farther than the targeting distance?"
"Warrior at 271.122."
"Mage at 258.114!"
…
Blank called out the coordinates, her mind racing. She'd never seen a mage fight like this. She was the one sneaking around in the shadows, yet Orson, perched high above, was orchestrating a perfectly coordinated assault.
"Nice! Now we're in sync," Orson crowed from above, raining down fireballs and basic attacks with pinpoint accuracy. His barrage not only dealt damage but added burn effects, locking the priest in a futile struggle against Blank.
Blank felt an odd mixture of awe and frustration. His skills were beyond anything she'd expected from a mere former pro. The power of his attacks, his sustained blue-shield defenses, his absurd range—everything about this man was ridiculous.
But Blank's frustration quickly turned to horror as she realized the priest NPC was faltering. Blood trickled from his mouth as he collapsed to his knees, turning his tear-filled eyes to Blank. "Please, spare me. If you let me live, I'll reward you handsomely once we return."
Blank hesitated, momentarily dumbstruck by the sight of the priest begging for mercy. He looked so… real. It was as if he were a living person, pleading for his life.
"A soft-hearted assassin, huh?" Orson's voice crackled through the comms, exasperated. "Did I team up with the wrong person?"
Blank's face flushed with embarrassment as her confidence wavered. "What is wrong with me?" she thought. It was a game, after all, and this was just an NPC, nothing more.
"If you don't want a counterattack, finish him off," Orson warned, but Blank remained frozen, her resolve crumbling as she stared at the pleading priest. He even threw a pouch of coins at her feet, trying to buy his life.
Orson shook his head, letting her learn the hard way. Just as he'd anticipated, the NPC's pleading eyes turned cold and murderous, revealing a hidden intent. "Die!"
A blinding cross of holy light surged from the priest's staff, aiming to obliterate Blank in one blow. It leveled the trees around them into splinters. But just as the spell was about to connect, three fireballs came crashing down from the sky, breaking the priest's casting in an explosive burst.
The blast knocked Blank back to her senses, her shock replaced by fury. She lunged forward, landing a deadly sequence of five critical hits, each strike swift and lethal. The priest let out a final, anguished scream, collapsing as a pile of loot spilled from his body—two purple-grade armor pieces and three high-tier skill books.
However, Blank barely glanced at the loot. She stumbled back, breathing heavily, pressing herself against a fallen tree for support.
"It's too real," she whispered, staring at her bloodied hands. "The feel of every hit, the weak spots... it's just like real life. I can't… This is too much."
"Get a grip," Orson's voice called out, jolting her from her thoughts. "If we're working together, don't drag me down."
Blank glared up the hill, fists clenched. Even without her, he was handling the three remaining NPCs without breaking a sweat. His mastery of distance control and timing was beyond anything she'd seen.
Orson's flawless footwork and calculated spell use kept him firmly in control, even as the NPC warriors roared in frustration, unable to land a hit. He shattered the formation of the two tanky warriors, then strategically shifted his attacks to the earth mage, the most annoying of his opponents.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
-290!
-290!
Orson was relentless. Whether at a distance or up close, his movements and timing were impeccable, allowing him to predict and counter every step the NPCs made.
"Good grief, even against three strong NPCs, he's completely unfazed. His playstyle has no weaknesses," Blank thought, feeling the pressure mount. This man was… a true champion.
For once, the prideful Blank felt herself shrinking in the shadow of another.