The satisfaction was nice. The goblin dissolved, the blue notification box appeared, and the numbers went up. It was the purest feedback loop I had ever experienced. There was no lag, no server maintenance, no other players kill-stealing my mobs. There was just me, my mace, and a target-rich environment.
I melted back into the shadows, the [Stealth] skill hovering around me like a wind current. I spotted my next target: a pair of goblins arguing over a piece of dried meat near a crude watch fire. Taking on two at once was a minor risk, but an acceptable one. I circled around, using the flickering firelight to mask my approach in the shifting shadows.
I was on them before they knew I existed. The mace came down on the first oneâs head. A single, solid crunch. It dropped without a sound. The second goblin turned, its mouth opening in a silent 'o' of surprise. It never got to make a sound. A backswing, fueled by thirty-plus points of Strength, caught it across the jaw. It went down just as fast.
Two blue boxes popped up simultaneously.
[You have killed a Level 3 Goblin.]
[+30 Experience Points.]
[You have killed a Level 4 Goblin Scrapper.]
[+45 Experience Points.]
The XP bar ticked up. My movements were becoming a dance. Activate [Stealth]. Identify target. Analyze patrol route. Approach. Strike. Repeat. It was the same rhythm I had perfected over thousands of hours in front of a screen, but this was a thousand times better. The air was real, the weight of the mace in my hand was real, and the feeling of power surging through me with every level-up was undeniably, intoxicatingly real.
The sun reached its peak, beating down on the quarry. I kept to the shadows, a ghost haunting the edges of the goblin encampment. The blue screens became my constant companions.
[You have killed a Level 3 Goblin.]
[+30 Experience Points.]
[Your skill, Blunt Weapon Mastery, has reached Lv. 8!]
[You have killed a Level 5 Goblin Archer.]
[+60 Experience Points.]
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[LEVEL UP! You are now Level 21!]
[HP and MP fully restored. You have 5 unspent stat points.]
That level-up was like a shot of pure adrenaline. The minor scrapes and bruises from a poorly-blocked attack vanished. The slight fatigue in my muscles evaporated. It was a full reset, a green light to keep going. I dumped the points into Strength and Agility, refining my build.
This wasn't like a game. It was better. In Age of Titans, killing a mob ten thousand times made your character stronger. Here, killing a mob a dozen times made me stronger. I could feel the difference in my body. My swings with the mace were faster, more precise. My steps, even when not using [Stealth], were quieter. My eyes picked up on the subtle movements of the goblin patrols more easily. I wasn't just gaining levels; I was gaining actual, tangible skill.
The afternoon wore on. The pile of invisible goblin corpses grew. My level continued to climb.
[LEVEL UP! You are now Level 22!]
[Your skill, Stealth, has reached Lv. 2!]
The improvement to [Stealth] was immediately noticeable. The feeling of being shrouded deepened. I could move a little faster without breaking the effect, and I could get closer to my targets before they had a chance to notice me. The grind fed itself. More levels meant better stats, which made the killing easier, which meant more levels. It was a beautiful, violent cycle.
By the time the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the quarry, the outer perimeter was eerily quiet. The constant chatter of goblins had been replaced by a tense silence. They knew something was wrong, but they didn't know what. They were being hunted, and the predator was invisible.
[LEVEL UP! You are now Level 25!]
Darkness fell. For the goblins, it was a liability. For me, it was a buff. My [Stealth] skill felt twice as effective in the gloom, the shadows my natural allies. I didn't stop. Grinders don't stop just because the sun goes down. The best farming spots are always open 24/7.
I killed the last two sentries guarding the main cave entrance just as the sliver of a moon rose in the sky. The final notification popped up, a quiet confirmation of a long day's work.
[You have killed a Level 4 Goblin Sentry.]
[+45 Experience Points.]
[Your skill, Stealth, has reached Lv. 3!]
I stood in the darkness, leaning on my mace, and took stock. My leather armor was scuffed and stained, but I was uninjured. My level was 25. I had killed over fifty goblins, maybe closer to sixty. The entire outer layer of the nest, the cannon fodder, was gone.
I looked at the black cave entrance. A foul stench and the distant sound of more guttural voices drifted out from the darkness within. The tutorial area was cleared.
Time for the first real dungeon.