Mysterious Fog World: Eldritch Nexus

Drake observed the Draconis Kingdom’s outpost from a distance, a cluster of tents and hastily constructed barricades nestled behind the rocky facade of the mountain. The proximity of the enemy encampment to the Aleria Kingdom's border was a stark reminder of how vulnerable the kingdom had become after its recent losses. The setting sun cast long shadows over the encampment, giving it an eerie, foreboding appearance.

"The fact that they're so close... it shows they no longer see the Aleria Kingdom as a threat," Drake mused, his eyes narrowing. The Aleria Kingdom's forces were stretched thin, and their ability to defend every inch of their territory was compromised. This outpost was likely one of many, each serving as a checkpoint for intercepting Aleria forces and efficiently transferring supplies.

The twins had scouted the area thoroughly. Hidden behind the mountain, the outpost was not visible from the main routes, making it an effective ambush point. Ayame and Yumi had moved through the camp like shadows, their superior skills and strength rendering them invisible to the mortal fighters stationed there. The few veterans present were also unaware of the intruders in their midst.

The twins had refrained from destroying the outpost immediately, adhering to Drake’s specific instructions. If they found any outposts with manageable numbers, they were to inform him instead of engaging directly. Drake wanted to test his mettle against enemy fighters personally, having missed the opportunity during the recent monster waves.

Drake decided on a full frontal assault by himself, ordering the girls to observe and only intervene if his life was in grave danger. His companions watched with a mixture of curiosity and concern as he approached the outpost.

The sun was setting, casting long shadows over the rough terrain. The outpost was a hive of activity, with guards patrolling and the occasional murmur of conversation. As Drake walked towards the entrance, the guards on duty noticed him and immediately became alert.

“Stay where you are and don’t come any closer. State your business from there,” one of the guards demanded, his voice tinged with authority and a hint of nervousness. The guards couldn't afford to let just anyone approach, especially without verifying their intentions.

Drake's lips curled into a mild smile as he continued his steady approach, his footsteps crunching softly on the gravel path.

“I said stop. If you take another step, you will be treated like an enemy,” the guard warned, his hand hovering over the hilt of his sword.

Ignoring the guard’s command, Drake walked nonchalantly forward. The guards exchanged worried glances, their unease growing palpable. Realizing that the approaching figure had no intention of complying, one of them pressed the alarm. A shrill sound pierced the air, echoing through the outpost and alerting all patrolling guards to the imminent threat.

All the guards at the entrance unsheathed their swords. Leaving two at the gate, the rest of the four walked cautiously towards Drake. They knew that if someone dared to come to an enemy outpost alone, that person was either a madman or had the strength to ignore their threat.

When they reached him, the guards attacked in unison, their blades slicing through the air. Drake was faster. With one sweep of his sword, he downed two, their bodies crumpling to the ground. Another slash followed, and the remaining guards fell, lifeless.

By that time, the entrance was already crowded with soldiers. The sight of their fallen comrades lying at Drake’s feet spurred them into action, and they charged at him together, their collective roar echoing through the outpost.

Drake walked calmly, his movements fluid and precise. With each step, new bodies would fall. None of them were his match. Despite their experience, they were all beginner swordsmen, their mastery not more than level 10.

In comparison, Drake's intermediate mastery in swordsmanship, perception, unarmed combat, and firearms was like comparing a child to a skilled martial artist.

BANG

A mercenary who was sneaking from behind dropped dead, a bullet hole cleanly marking his forehead. Drake had slightly rotated his body to shoot him, maintaining his calm demeanor. This skilled martial artist also had a gun.

The remaining soldiers at the gate understood the gravity of the situation when they heard the gunshot. Moreover, they had already noticed the Alveria Kingdom insignia on his arm, confirming Drake as an enemy. Their faces twisted with fear and determination as they faced him.

The sharp report of the firearm seemed to freeze the air around them. They pressed the alarm that alerted the entire outpost. An enemy with a gun was more dangerous than one with a sword. But the enemy they faced wielded both with lethal proficiency.

Drake’s mind worked methodically, analyzing the flow of the battle. He noted the positions of the soldiers, the way they hesitated before attacking, their fear evident in their eyes. Each movement he made was calculated, designed to minimize his effort and maximize their panic.

The clang of steel, the thud of bodies hitting the ground, and the acrid smell of gunpowder filled the air. Drake’s companions watched from their vantage point, ready to intervene if necessary, but for now, they marveled at the efficiency with which he dismantled the opposition.

Drake continued his advance, each step a testament to his superiority. The soldiers, despite their numbers, could not halt his progress. They fell like wheat before a scythe, their efforts futile against his skill and power.

As he reached the entrance, the path behind him was littered with bodies—some cut into pieces, others with bullet holes in their heads. Empty magazines and bullet shells clinked underfoot, the remnants of his lethal efficiency. With the wealth of eldritch points he earned from the event, he could afford to splurge on bullets freely. Wielding a sword in his right hand and a semi-automatic pistol in his left, Drake was like the god of death in the outpost. His intermediate firearms mastery not only improved his aim and weapon handling but also significantly sped up his reloading.

Drake entered the gate, effortlessly cutting down enemies in his path. The clash of steel and the sharp cracks of gunfire filled the air. The acrid smell of gunpowder mixed with the metallic scent of blood. Suddenly, he felt a disturbance from his right side. Instincts honed by his perception mastery kicked in. He twisted his body and fired, the bullet finding its mark in the shadows where a veteran assassin had been lurking. The assassin dropped, a look of shock frozen on his face.

The combat around him intensified. Soldiers and mercenaries rushed at him, their movements frantic and uncoordinated. Drake's mind was a whirl of tactical calculations. He moved with precision, his actions a deadly dance of efficiency. Each shot from his pistol was deliberate, each swing of his sword calculated. He dodged a thrust from a spear, his counterattack swift and lethal.

“Get back, everyone!” a veteran soldier, clearly a figure of authority, barked orders at the soldiers and mercenaries. “Archers, fire!”

Drake’s eyes flickered as arrows whizzed towards him. His perception and sword mastery allowed him to dodge the arrows with fluid grace. Those that were too close or impossible to dodge were expertly deflected by his sword, each swing precise and calculated.

As he moved, his sword created a mesmerizing arc of defense, striking down arrows effortlessly. Simultaneously, he fired his pistol, each shot taking down an archer with deadly accuracy. The battlefield was a symphony of chaos, the clash of steel against steel, the thud of arrows hitting the ground, and the sharp crack of gunfire.

When his magazine emptied, Drake executed a seamless reload. He pressed the button on his pistol, letting the empty magazine drop to the ground. With practiced precision, he aligned the gun with a fresh magazine protruding from his belt, snapping it into place. A quick tap against his arm locked the magazine in, and he resumed firing without missing a beat.

As he closed the distance to the archers, the massacre began. Unlike his followers, who were skilled in multiple combat disciplines, these archers were one-trick ponies, barely proficient even in archery. Their fear was palpable, eyes wide with terror as Drake cut through them with ruthless efficiency.

“Fall back! Create distance!” the veteran leader yelled, his voice strained with urgency. The archers scrambled to obey, retreating hastily. “Close combatants, engage!”

Drake’s lips curled into a slight smile. He advanced steadily, meeting the oncoming wave of close combatants head-on. Each swing of his sword was a blur, each shot from his pistol a precise, lethal mark.

The soldiers and mercenaries hesitated, their initial bravado faltering. They were up against a force they hadn’t anticipated. Drake moved like a phantom through their ranks, his movements a deadly ballet. The veteran leader watched, frustration mounting as his men fell one by one.

“Hold the line!” the leader roared, but his voice was drowned out by the sounds of battle.

The cycle of death continued as Drake cut down more than five thousand enemies. The higher-ups in the outpost were growing increasingly desperate. “Captain Mary, what do we do? That person is a killing machine. If this continues, the entire outpost will be wiped out,” one of Mary’s adjutants said, panic clear in his voice.

“Use that,” Mary ordered, her voice steady but filled with urgency.

The adjutant's fear lessened slightly as he heard the captain’s command. Those weapons were strictly regulated and were assigned only for extreme situations, especially against extraordinary threats. Even so, using it meant they would have to justify their actions in a detailed report later.

Meanwhile, Drake was engaged with two veteran swordsmen. Their mastery was impressive, so Drake decided to humor them by fighting solely with his sword, refraining from using his gun.

Despite the challenge, they were no match for him. Drake dodged their attacks effortlessly, his movements fluid and precise. He could easily counter their strikes, and the only reason they were still alive was because he was toying with them.

As he dodged one veteran’s strike while parrying the other, a sudden sense of danger washed over him. His instincts screamed for him to dodge. He followed his instincts and tilted his head back just in time to avoid a bullet that whizzed past, narrowly missing him.

His perception mastery had saved him from certain death. He turned towards the source of the shot and saw a soldier aiming a rifle at him. Despite the close call, Drake smiled brightly at the shooter. But when the soldier saw his smile, she felt a cold shiver of fear.

Drake subtly signaled his companions not to interfere, knowing they were ready to take down the soldier if needed. He relished the thrill of the fight and wanted to handle this new threat on his terms.

Drake shifted his focus back to the veterans in front of him, resuming the fight with a renewed intensity. The soldier with the rifle, bewildered by why Drake hadn’t killed her despite having the opportunity, continued to fire. Her shots missed their mark each time as Drake evaded every bullet while engaging the increasingly frustrated veterans.

He toyed with them for a while, but boredom soon set in. With swift, decisive strikes, he dispatched the veterans. Turning his attention back to the soldiers and mercenaries, he added an extra challenge for himself: dodging the rifle shots while continuing to fight.

Bullets whizzed past him, but Drake dodged them with a dancer's grace. The combined effort of fighting an army while evading gunfire heightened the difficulty, pushing his skills to the limit. Yet, this strenuous situation accelerated the improvement of his perception mastery. He felt it evolving rapidly, and he was certain that by the time he finished at the outpost, his mastery would level up once and reach level 22 in the intermediate stage. This was the reason he allowed the soldier to keep shooting.

The battlefield began to thin out. Less than a hundred fighters remained. Many mercenaries, realizing the futility of their efforts against Drake, chose to flee. Their loyalty was to gold, not the kingdom. Some soldiers also abandoned their posts, unwilling to lose their lives. However, none escaped the sharp eyes and swift blades of Drake’s companions, who were silently ensuring that no deserter lived to tell the tale.

“If you stop right now, I will recommend you to Commander Xander,” Captain Mary called out, her voice steady despite the chaos around her. “I can tell that you are not a soldier of the Aleria Kingdom but a mercenary, so you are doing it only for fame and money. As long as you join us, we will immediately give you a high position in the army and you will be handsomely rewarded for helping our kingdom. I know someone of your strength should be aware of the dire straits the Aleria Kingdom is in. Why waste your talents for a dying kingdom when you can work for us and even become a noble?”

She saw his skills and was very impressed despite the fact he decimated her entire outpost. She knew as long as he accepted her proposal she would be heavily rewarded instead of being punished for losing the entire outpost.

BANG

Mary’s eyes widened in shock as a bullet tore through her skull. She crumpled to the ground, her expression frozen in astonishment.

Enraged by their captain’s death, her subordinates charged at Drake with renewed fury. He met them head-on, his movements a blur of lethal efficiency. Each swing of his sword and pull of the trigger was precise, cutting down the fighters one by one.

As expected, the combat pushed his skills to the limit, and he felt his perception mastery improve, reaching level 22 in the intermediate stage. He moved through the remaining soldiers with calculated brutality, showing no mercy.

The soldier who was shooting him also ran away when less than ten fighters were remaining. She didn't bother to surrender. It was not that the soldiers from the Draconis Kingdom didn’t surrender, but Drake didn’t accept their surrender and killed them all regardless. But she didn’t run far and died with an arrow sticking in her throat.

Drake took a deep breath, trying to calm the adrenaline coursing through his veins after the massacre. He felt the familiar rush of battle slowly subside, leaving him with a sense of grim satisfaction. The girls appeared around him, their presence was a reassuring reminder of his loyal companions.

Yumi approached him, holding out the rifle she had picked up after killing the shooter. Drake accepted it with a nod of thanks.

Drake whistled appreciatively as he inspected the rifle. It was a basic model, using a magazine of five bullets and lacking a scope. He tested its weight and balance, finding it solid but unremarkable. He aimed at a distant point and fired, noting that the rifle had an effective range of about two hundred meters before the bullets lost momentum.

While Drake played with the rifle, the girls spread out, searching the outpost for anything of value. They moved with practiced efficiency, checking every corner and nook. Despite their thorough search, they found little of real worth. There were some military rations and standard weapons, but no significant loot. The outpost had only one gun, and they managed to scrounge up just over twenty bullets.

Drake contemplated the rifle, considering its potential uses. He decided it would be useful for long-range engagements, complementing his existing arsenal. He accessed his system and purchased a suitable scope for the rifle, along with hundreds of bullets to ensure he wouldn’t run out during crucial moments.

Drake packed up the best weapons, which were not many, and put the rest in the game shop to sell to other players.

The unexpected reward of the rifle was more than enough motivation for him to attack more outposts. Despite the eldritch points he had earned from the event, he knew better than to waste them on buying too many guns. The better guns were even more expensive, and even though with his points, he could buy tens or even hundreds of guns depending on the type of gun, that would be a waste. So, he seized the opportunity to acquire many new guns for free.

He sent the twins in different directions to scout for more enemy outposts. If they were far away, the twins would destroy them and bring back the best loot, including any guns they found. If the outposts were nearby, Drake would launch a frontal assault, guns blazing, mowing down any enemy fighters.

After more than twelve hours of fighting and traveling, the group took a well-deserved rest. The twins were on their way back, bringing loot from the last outpost they had destroyed.

A few minutes later, Ayame and Yumi arrived and joined Drake, Aria, and Zara. Ayame approached Drake directly, her expression serious.

"Young master, I found more than a hundred soldiers of the Aleria Kingdom surrounded by over ten thousand enemy soldiers. They’re holding on for now. Do you want to help them?" Ayame asked.