The game clearly showed and told players that mobs were exactly 300 goblins per wave but right now what unfolded in front of me was more than 400 so who the hell is to be blamed for this…the devs?
The mobs were nowhere near as weak as a group than they were individually. The numbers of the goblins really gave a true meaning to the "X".
Overpowered or not, this was truly a mob of death.
A normal goblin's strength stat would be 30 but it seems it was doubled by the system because the stats were above 60 which also gave meaning to the "X".
Transcendence Online was truly made to turn one's spirit down.
The death match had begun.
Over four hundred goblins, screaming, gnashing their teeth, and brandishing crude iron weapons, surrounded me in a living tide of green. Their yellow eyes glowed with bloodlust, and their shrill voices created a choir of chaos that made my eardrums rattle.
I clenched my dagger tighter. The system wasn't completely insane—it hadn't thrown me into this death trap without a card up my sleeve. A purple notification shimmered in front of me just as I squared my stance.
[Restriction lifted due to Survival Trial.]
[Authority "Gluttony" has been unlocked.]
A crooked grin spread across my lips. "So that's how it is. Fine… let's see what you taste like."
The first wave of goblins rushed me like a flood. Rusted axes, chipped swords, and jagged spears all came from every direction. I darted forward, blade flashing, cutting down the first two. Blood splattered across my yellow shirt, and the familiar metallic scent invaded my nostrils.
Three goblins leapt at me from above, their crude daggers pointed down like falling guillotines. At the same time, four came from behind, while two more charged from the front.
"Crap."
The word left my lips, not in fear, but in that sarcastic gamer's tone I always used when I knew I was about to do something ridiculous. Instinct told me to retreat, but something in my muscles—no, something in my soul—moved differently.
I shifted into a stance. Not the standard ones from the game. Not the Katana forms drilled into my memory.
This one came out of nowhere. My body bent low, blade angled across my chest, both hands gripping it tightly. My knees coiled like springs, every ounce of weight pushed into my toes. My torso twisted, ready to unleash a strike that defied balance itself.
It looked insane. It felt impossible. It was the stance of someone about to throw his whole life into one cut.
Then—
Fwoooosh!
Purple flames erupted along the blade's edge, roaring like a starving beast. I slashed upward in a wide arc, and the world froze.
Seven goblins fell in that instant. Three from above, cleaved in half midair, four from behind cut cleanly through the waist, and the two in front split open before they even realized what happened.
The system chimed in immediately, voice almost smug.
[Unique action detected.]
[Skill "Monarch Slash" has been acquired.]
[Condition: Acquired by pure luck.]
"Monarch… Slash?" I muttered, staring at the flickering purple flames trailing the blade. I laughed. "You've got to be kidding me. That's how I unlock a move? By breaking physics?"
But there was no time to admire it. More goblins swarmed me. My body moved faster now, sharper. I carved through them in waves, slashing, stabbing, kicking. Each cut was cleaner, each motion smoother, as though my muscles were syncing with Arthur Park's stats.
Blood sprayed across the battlefield. My dagger—pathetic and rusted—looked like a divine weapon in my grip. Still, the tide didn't stop.
The minutes dragged on. Screams, flames, purple flashes. And then, silence.
Corpses piled around me, hundreds of them. My chest heaved, sweat pouring down my face, my hands trembling.
[First Wave Cleared.]
[Next Wave begins in: 10:00]
I collapsed to one knee, wiping my blade on a dead goblin's ragged tunic. Ten minutes. Just ten minutes before another swarm.
A sigh escaped me. "Ten minutes to rest… yeah right. It's time to eat."
I extended my hand. Purple fire ignited, swirling upward, forming a colossal maw in the air. The ground trembled as the Authority awakened fully.
[Activating Gluttony.]
The flaming maw roared and descended on the corpses. One by one, they were devoured. Bones crunched, flesh vaporized, blood burned away. The world smelled of smoke and iron.
Notifications flooded in faster than I could blink.
[You have consumed 400 goblins.]
[Level increased to Lv. 15.]
[Evolve to E–Rank? Y/N]
[All stats increased by +20 due to the massive feast.]
[Class unlocked: All–Wielder.]
[Mana increased by +2000.]
I stood frozen, my body trembling not from fear but from exhilaration. My veins felt like they were on fire, mana coursing through every nerve. My muscles tightened, my vision sharpened, and my breathing became steady as if the chaos of battle had been erased.
"All–Wielder, huh?" I whispered. "A class only a handful ever got by dumb luck… and now it's mine?"
I laughed. A long, delirious laugh that echoed across the empty battlefield.
This was broken. This was insane. This was perfect.
A final message appeared.
[Evolution to E–Rank will commence in 3… 2… 1…]
My body burned. Purple light enveloped me, searing through my flesh, cracking me open and reforging me in raw power.
Bones popped, muscles tightened, my lungs expanded. Mana exploded outward, shaking the very air. It was like every fiber of my existence had leveled up.
And then it was over.
[You have evolved to E–Rank.]
[All stats increased by +10.]
[Level increased by +5.]
[Title gained: Overpowered Gamer.]
I glanced at the text, blinking sweat out of my eyes. "Overpowered Gamer? Seriously? That's my title?"
Despite myself, I smirked. "Oh, looks cool. I like it."
I pulled up the class description briefly, curiosity burning—
[Class: All–Wielder]
A class that transcends weapon limitations. Grants access to all weapon techniques regardless of mastery. Growth rate: exponential. Compatibility: perfect.
[Title: Overpowered Gamer]
The essence of a man who treated life as a game, now given power to break it. Stat bonuses apply passively. Luck greatly increased.
Before I could savor the absurdity of it, the countdown hit zero.
[Next Wave Beginning.]
The ground cracked. The sky darkened. Drums pounded in the distance, the war–beat of goblins echoing like thunder.
I stood taller, my blade dripping with purple fire, my veins pulsing with mana.
"With grown power… this should be easier, right?" I muttered.
The horizon filled with shapes. Another army. Another storm. Another test.
And I grinned.
"Let's play."