The C.L.A.S.P. bar had leaped forward, which was what mattered.
A roar of triumph swept the Spriggans, snapping Reidar to attention. They were celebrating because of the amount of C.L.A.S.P. points they earned. They towered over his paltry sum.
The system recognized their contribution was low, very low, but the monsters they had just killed were many levels higher than theirs. In truth, Reidar began to understand that this trick was essentially an exploit.
Survivors at level 80 should have never been able to kill monsters at level 260. It was something impossible to imagine.
The System's logic was designed for a world without shepherds. It awarded massive C.L.A.S.P. gains for defeating threats far above a survivor's weight class; it was a brutal but fair evaluation.
If a Level 80 survivor somehow slew a Level 260 beast, the System registered that as an incredible feat of skill, opening the floodgates to boost their attributes.
