I FCKING HATE SIMPS!

The Iron Hand camp was about to get absolutely griefed, but first I had some quality time with my new stealth build to enjoy. Shadow Meld was basically creative mode for infiltration—I moved through their perimeter like a ghost with admin privileges, completely invisible to their trash-tier perception stats.

Their camp layout was honestly pretty optimal from a defensive standpoint. Elevated archer positions covered all the main approaches, patrol routes were staggered to prevent gaps in coverage, and they'd positioned their loot storage in the center where it would be hardest to reach. These guys might be morally bankrupt human traffickers, but they weren't complete noobs at base design.

I was systematically working through their archer positions when I found it.

One of the watchtowers had what was obviously the camp's elite guard—better armor, weapons that didn't look like they'd been salvaged from a junkyard, and most importantly, a small leather pouch at his belt that was practically glowing with that unmistakable "rare drop" aura.

"That's not standard bandit loot," Nyx whispered in my mind as I crept closer.

The guard was focused on scanning the tree line where my contractors would be approaching soon. Perfect positioning for a stealth takedown, but I was curious about that pouch first. Using Shadow Step, I teleported directly behind him—the ability was basically a built-in backstab mechanic.

One quick application of Crescent Cleave to his neck, and he dropped without even knowing he'd been engaged. No death scream, no alert to his buddies. Clean elimination.

But when I looted his corpse, my brain absolutely short-circuited.

"Holy fucking shit," I breathed, staring at the contents of the pouch. "Chat, we just hit the absolute jackpot."

Inside was what could only be described as an SSR-tier consumable—a Celestial Manastone about the size of my fist, perfectly cut and radiating enough magical energy to power a small city. This wasn't some common drop you'd find on random mobs. This was the kind of ultra-rare loot that streamers would farm reactions with.

"A Celestial Manastone," Astrid's voice chimed in from my circlet, sounding genuinely impressed. "I haven't seen one of those in decades. That contains enough concentrated lunar energy to—"

"To absolutely break the game," I finished, already understanding the implications. "This could power Starfall, couldn't it?"

"Multiple times over," Selene confirmed from within Moonglaive. "With that level of mana infusion, you could probably chain-cast your ultimate ability."

I stared at the stone, feeling its power thrumming against my palm. This changed everything. I'd been planning a careful infiltration mission, systematic elimination of targets, maybe some light reconnaissance. But with this much raw power at my disposal?

"New plan," I announced to my equipment egos. "We're about to find out what happens when you give endgame consumables to someone who's been min-maxing for three years."

The sound of shouting from the camp's main entrance told me my contractors had started their distraction play right on schedule. Time to crash this party with some premium content.

I crushed the Celestial Manastone in my grip.

The effect was immediate and absolutely insane. Power flooded through my entire system like I'd just chugged the most concentrated energy drink in existence. My small Elflet frame suddenly felt like it was containing enough energy to level a mountain. The transformation from diminutive stealth character to towering High Elf happened automatically—my body couldn't contain this much power in its compressed state.

"Oh fuck yes," I breathed, now standing at my full six-foot height, silver hair flowing with actual magical aura farming effects. "This is what aura maxxing feels like."

The Iron Hand bandits below were in full chaos mode, rushing toward the front gate where Thorek was bellowing challenges and Mira was making aggressive sword-waving gestures. They had no idea their entire backline was about to get deleted by the most overpowered ultimate ability in the game.

I raised Moonglaive above my head, feeling Selene's battle-spirit merge with my consciousness as the Celestial Manastone's energy channeled through the blade. The weapon began to glow with concentrated moonlight, and I could sense the cosmic forces aligning for what was about to be the most spectacular wombo combo this world had ever witnessed.

"Starfall," I whispered, and reality absolutely lost its mind.

The sky above the bandit camp tore open like someone had ripped a hole in the universe's texture files. Pure lunar energy began cascading down in concentrated meteors, each one the size of a small building and moving with the inevitability of divine judgment.

The first meteor impact deleted the central command tent and three surrounding structures in a blast of silver fire that lit up the entire forest. The second took out their weapons cache, sending secondary explosions rippling through half the camp. The third, fourth, and fifth impacts were just showing off at that point—I was basically spawn-camping these guys with cosmic artillery.

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS HAPPENING?" I heard Thorek scream from the front lines, and honestly, valid question.

The surviving bandits were in full panic mode, running in random directions like NPCs whose AI had completely broken. Some were trying to fight meteors with swords, which was about as effective as it sounds. Others had given up entirely and were just lying on the ground in what I could only assume was psychological shock.

"Target-rich environment," Selene purred in my mind. "Shall we clean up the stragglers?"

But as the meteor shower finally subsided and the cosmic light show faded, I realized I might have gotten a little carried away with the power fantasy. The Iron Hand camp wasn't just defeated—it was completely obliterated. There was no base left to infiltrate, no prisoners to interrogate, no intel to gather.

I had basically used a tactical nuke for what was supposed to be a stealth mission.

"Well," Nyx observed dryly, "that was certainly thorough."

The good news was that Gorvok the Slayer was definitely in that camp—I could see his charred corpse next to what used to be the command tent, still wearing his distinctive skull-decorated armor. Mission accomplished, target eliminated.

The bad news was that I'd probably just announced my presence to every major faction within a fifty-mile radius. You don't drop that kind of magical firepower without someone important taking notice.

As I felt the transformation beginning to wear off, my height compressing back to Elflet proportions, I couldn't help but grin. Sure, I'd completely abandoned the stealth approach. But sometimes the best strategy was just having better gear than everyone else.

"Chat," I whispered to the smoldering ruins around me, "your girl just discovered what happens when you use premium consumables. Absolute content."

Time to go collect my contractors and figure out what faction was going to come investigate the magical equivalent of a nuclear explosion that just went off in their backyard.