There was an unwritten rule amongst adventurers. If you signed up using your full name, you either had no idea what you were doing, or you were ambitious and declaring to the other adventurers that you wanted them to give you a moniker. It was a fun joke to have the most ambitious adventurers be given the same status as the clueless.

Juniper the Fair Hearted was one of the only Fourthers that had ever earned a moniker before.

The truth was that Juniper Selfin had signed up with her full name because she didn’t have an adventurer’s name prepared. Of course, only her team knew that.

After all, at the age of thirty-six, Juniper had long given up on getting a sponsorship.

In a twist of fate, the Selfin Estate was struck with a lack of talents over the recent years. Somehow, during that desert of talent, Juniper managed to eke out a win against the eighteen year old kid in the in-house tournament. It was truly just luck, the eighteen year old slipped on his own sweat. The second round he was too inexperienced to get his momentum back.

Juniper still remembered the looks of contemplation on the assessor’s face. For perhaps the first time, the Selfin Estate considered giving one of their reserved Trial slots to an outsider. In the end, her parents gave a ruling and the estate followed. They were strict like that. She had won, she deserved it. It was as simple as that.

Juniper had always felt like she had simply been in the right place and at the right time.

Her Trials and meeting her team felt the same way. Things happened, and somehow she was seemingly always… in the right place and right time.

As if proving her thoughts, her Epic had ended up reflecting it. Her family’s analysts had been surprised that she of all people had earned an Epic. Then they were hopeful.

That was until she told them the skill description.

A luck based skill. According to the assessor those kinds of skills were guaranteed to backfire sooner or later. Further, it was estimated that overreliance on luck based skills damaged achievements instead.

In other words, Juniper would likely die or be too weak to ever hit the ninth realm.

Despite the lack of support, she was still eternally grateful to her family. Juniper did everything she did to at least pay them back in some small way. Using her Epic to put herself in the right place and the right time. Often saving other adventurers in a dramatic fashion.

And now they called her Juniper the Fair Hearted.

The ‘strongest’ of the fourthers. A disappointment to her dragonslayer family.

A hilarious combination. A cosmic joke, that was what she was. Sooner or later the hammer would drop and everything would shatter.

Her team knew of all this, of course. They refused to leave her and she didn’t think she could join another team knowing what she did.

Perhaps this is the time my luck runs out.

The Cataclysm Abyss was starting to erupt and Juniper tried to listen in on her skill. Meanwhile, their [Rogue] was trying to quieten down their Unwanted.

“Please Jeksy, listen to me, stay still. We’ll get you out, okay?”

Jeksy was their nickname for the sobbing Unwanted that was struggling against the [Rogue’s] grip. It had been a mess trying to climb back up while the shadowy hands appeared and started trying to trip them up.

She tried to focus on her Epic.

Left, right, down, diagonal right down. Stay still too.

Juniper shook her head. Her skill, [Right Place, Right Time] was pulling her everywhere but also telling her that keeping still was the right option. That was one of the main weaknesses in her Epic. Have too much going on and—

Left.

Juniper raised her shield, blocking a rock thrown by a shadowy hand. Her team member shined a UV light, pointing at it to make it go reeling back. It crawled into a crevice…

Then the scuttering screech of a too-large bullipede echoed forth.

They decided to hurry to another ledge.

Whenever the shadowy hands understood that they weren’t enough to hurt the adventurers, they would go scuttling into dark corners, finding monsters to agitate and drag out into the open. Just so they could find more opportunity to cause adventurer deaths.

The rising of the titan had brought all of the shadowy hands back into the upper layer. They were going everywhere, waking up the monsters and causing havoc wherever they could.

Erupting the Cataclysm Abyss.

“We need to get the fuck out of here! Please Jeksy, stay still. We’ll get you out safely, we promise.”

It was nearly impossible to carry the Unwanted while he was thrashing. Jeksy’s raw strength wasn’t much worse than hers and his hands could warp enchanted metal without even trying.

Similar scenes were happening with the scattered teams in the Abyss. Each and every single one of the mutated elves were having violent reactions. A few of them fleeing into the caves, leaving dumbfounded adventurers uncertain whether they should go chase after the Unwanted or continue to flee from the erupting Abyss.

Juniper’s skill was telling her that there were too many places she could be, she could be everywhere and make a difference. She was desperately trying to figure out where exactly was the most [Right Place, Right Time].

Anywhere but near the Flesh Titan.

It made her heart sink in her chest. The Flesh Titan was climbing on the other side of the Abyss, climbing at a staggeringly quick pace. Unhindered by all the potshots that adventurers had taken.

Juniper had tried to keep as close as her Epic told her was safe. Waiting for any sort of opportunity that might present itself. It had happened before and she was praying to the Manager that it would happen again.

She just didn’t know what else she could do. Multiple fully charged [Fireballs] from Mahjit had barely slowed it down. Any adventurer that tried to get close ended up having a barrage of scrap metal thrown at them. She could still see the faces of the team that had their faces stretched across the titan’s wrist.

There is no difference I can make here. That was what her Epic was telling her.

Juniper had no idea how to stop that thing. She only hoped that Valee could—

A flash of light glinted from above.

A lone [Swordsman] jumping down, armored in light adventurer’s gear. A single blade shining true in the dark, leaving behind a trail of light.

Juniper almost couldn’t believe it. The newbie was out of his mind.

Hundreds of weapons flew from the titan’s smaller appendages. All the limbs throwing their weapons at the mad [Swordsman]. If it was just scrap metal, it would still have been dangerous. Unfortunately, for some reason, every single piece of metal seemed like they were magically enhanced. They’d slice through regular metal and bone like it was butter.

Most of the squirming long limbs were made out of the Unwanted themselves.

While in midair, Zedart’s blade started moving, flowing from one form to another. As if swinging a blade was his craft, his sword the paintbrush, and he the painter.

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Zedart swept the barrage of weapons–one rusted greatsword to the side, one spear spinning alongside his blade, helping deflect countless more weapons.

Juniper had felt it when they had sparred. Zedart could beat her if given enough time. Hell, she would say that he could beat her if he understood how her Epic worked.

While Juniper cheated with her Epic, Zedart was…

A true prodigy.

The [Swordsman] landed on the titan’s hand and started slicing. The shining blade blurred. Cutting, parrying, moving at impossible precision for a fourth realm. All the adventurers paused to watch with bated breaths.

Juniper wondered just how many truly understood what the hell was going on.

This was someone who exceeded the Trial System’s perfect enhancements through pure talent alone.

A shadowy hand managed to barely grasp Zedart’s ankle. The moment it did, the [Swordsman] parried a flying sword, redirecting the point of the blade so that it landed on the inky hand.

Only half an inch away from his ankle.

That was how he kept the shadows away.

It was as if he was using [Continuous Parry]. Only Juniper couldn’t tell if it was a Trial skill or simply Zedart’s swordsmanship. He charged down the arm—impossible to stop. The Flesh Titan realized this and let go of the wall and shook its arm, trying to fling Zedart away.

The [Swordsman] leaped—in the air again, exposed to another round of thrown weapons and scrap metal. He kept parrying. Proving that it wasn’t a Trial skill. Those had cooldowns.

Zedart’s swordsmanship was simply that good. He could endlessly swing his blade at the equivalent of a Rare Trial skill.

A prodigy unlike any other. Less than half her age with not even a year as an adventurer. If Zedart didn’t get offered some sort of Epic rarity [Blademaster] class by the fifth realm, Juniper would eat her own shield.

Zedart landed on the Flesh Titan’s shoulder safely. All of the appendages in the vicinity had thrown their weapons and now they were simply sitting ducks. They were all casually sliced off as he traveled to the exposed neck.

The crazy sonofabitch might make it.

Some part of Juniper started having doubts. If Zedart could have done it, then surely she could have done it too. Juniper had beaten him in their one spar. Or did she not have what it took to block the hail of metal?

But then why did her Epic tell her that up there with Zedart wasn’t the [Right Place, Right Time]?

Perhaps I’ve been relying too much on my Epic. Maybe that was the difference between them.

Zedart finally started to activate his skills. Saving his best for this very moment.

[Desperation Stance: Honed Will] + [Uncanny Parry] + [Brutal Cleave]

An enormous blade extended from his sword. It swung in wide sweeping, flowing strikes. Slower because of the skills, but no less lacking in pure skill.

Juniper could only describe the movement as something that balanced both brute strength and the flow of perfect swordsmanship. A part of her wept at someone so talented combining two merged skills at the same time.

Gouging flowing cuts began to flay away at the skin and sinew of the Flesh Titan.

Zedart took a step further. As if aiming to carve a tunnel through the monster’s giant neck.

Juniper remembered barely getting out of Zedart’s range, trying to wear out the combination with just her sword and shield. It had taken her all to keep up, relying on her Epic more than she would have liked to admit.

Zedart had no problem here, he was not up against someone that knew exactly where to stand and block.

All he had was a thick stationary target.

An enormous shadowy hand was cut up before it could grab his ankle. A shadowy hand that had picked up a thrown spear pulled it from the wall and threw it at his back. It didn’t even get close. The spear was redirected to stab deeply into the titan’s neck.

Zedart took another step. Cutting further into Flesh Titan.

At this point, his cuts were past the halfway point of the monster’s neck.

The scattered adventurers were all beginning to cheer. Even Shadowstrider who was rappelling another adventurer to safety couldn’t help but pause and watch.

Juniper just felt at her Epic.

[Right Place, Right Time]

Still not towards the Flesh Titan. Get off the ledge, move far down. Get the fuck out of the Abyss. Now.

A sinking feeling opened up in her stomach, replacing the hope that she had.

It was like Juniper was seeing things in slow motion as she came to a realization. Zedart had still been cutting and hadn’t made another step forward. The [Swordsman’s] blade was no longer flaying at flesh—rather he was cutting at something inky black instead.

It was getting darker around the [Swordsman]. He was being surrounded by a black mist, the same particle effect that occurred when a shadowy hand was slain.

As the seconds passed, the cheering started to die down. The other adventurers were coming to the same realization she did.

The Flesh Titan raised its left arm, and brought it down on the [Swordsman]. Zedart moved, jumping to the chest of the titan. Zedart sliced off half of a flailing appendage before stepping on it. Using the stump as a platform to jump to the other shoulder.

Juniper paled when she saw what was going on.

Just like when Shadowstrider had blown up the wrist, a continuous chain of shadowy arms had formed, holding each other, keeping the Flesh Titan’s torn neck together.

Zedart hadn’t stepped forward because he couldn’t swing faster than the shadowy hands could form.

Just how many of those inky hands are in the titan? How long has it been storing them inside of it?

Zedart was swinging again. It was harder to see from this angle. All she could see was a flash of steel at the peak of his swings.

Though it was enough. Juniper could see that Zedart was nearing the end of his skill combination. He was finally slowing down, the overexertion of skill showing in his movements.

Zedart had technically cut through both ends of the neck, the entirety of the Flesh Titan’s neck now being held purely by squirming chains of shadowy hands.

Either the shadowy hands could function as more than just muscle…

Or decapitation couldn’t kill the Flesh Titan.

As if it was an obvious weakness placed specifically for foolish adventurers that liked to go for the head.

That was right. If it was that easy, then wouldn’t [Right Place, Right Time] have placed her somewhere with Zedart?

Juniper brought her phone to her mouth, her voice somber.

“Recommendation. Full retreat. Valee destabilizes the ground and we use [Fireballs] to make it trip. Keep it down for as long as we can and repeat until we get the Unwanted out of the leveled zone. Then call for a dragonslayer and bait it out of a leveled zone. Decapitation is not likely to work. Weakness not likely in the head.”

It was the only option she could think of. Juniper just didn’t know if it would be enough. Valee’s skill had limits and if she suffered a backlash it would be over.

Mahjit’s voice came through the comms, somehow his tone was calm despite the contents of the message.

“Valee isn’t in The Realm right now. She’s on Earth. I’ve sent a message already. I’ve got the Unwanted retreating to Gravenmarch… I don’t think she’ll make it back in time.”

Juniper closed her eyes.

A wave of exhaustion hitting her all at once.

Imagine toiling away in the endless abyss, working hard to save as many as you could. That had been her and her team while so many other adventurers had chosen to take a break.

Not that she blamed them.

It was incredibly difficult to be in Sector Four for weeks on end.

…It was just… they had worked so hard.

And now it was all for nothing.

The oppressive, depressing atmosphere of Sector Four finally seeped into her bones. If Juniper listened, she could almost hear what the Unwanted heard. If not the words, then at least the context.

Ruination, struggle, ruination again. There was never any hope to be found here.

Only a lesson to be learned.

As if Jeksy could sense her mood, the Unwanted thrashed harder and broke from their [Rogue’s] grip, then he sprinted towards one of the caves.

A cold embrace it may be, but at least it was familiar.

Juniper reached out trying to grab Jesky—but she was too tired. Her reaction was just a a moment’s delayed. Her Epic had worn away at her mind, overstimulation was another weakness she didn’t like to admit about it.

Or perhaps this was finally the luck backlash they’d talked about. The one she expected.

The hammer coming down.

Up above, Zedart leapt away from a tidal wave of inky hands. He had finally stopped swinging, and the massive chain of inky hands finally realized it could do more than just reform the titan’s neck.

As if both hands and titan were one the titan itself seemed to understand that idea, the Flesh Titan turned its head.

With rudimentary instinct, it opened its mouth.

And spew out a jet of shadowy hands at Zedart. The chain of squirming arms in its neck flowing up and funneling into the mouth, shooting towards the pesky [Swordsman]… while he was in midair.

A wriggling beam of endless inky arms shot like a beam to overwhelm the [Swordsman].

Zedart, with no skills to redirect his body in midair, simply steadied his sword—as if believing he could parry a tidal wave—before getting tackled in midair by a rappelling Shadowstrider.

The beam of crawling arms hit the wall of the Cataclysm Abyss then began to spread out. It was the most concentrated group of inky hands that anyone had ever seen before.

A squirming mass that was spreading out like seeking plague.

A team of adventurers that had been close to where the beam of arms initially landed suddenly found themselves overwhelmed. A flashbang designed for scaring off the shadows did nothing but get snuffed out by the endless tide. The adventurers and the Unwanted were torn apart in seconds, their flesh and gear being carried back, back towards the Flesh Titan.

A neat row of crawling arms were coming right towards them. As if they could detect where Jeksy was.

“INCOMING!”

Juniper stared at the line of hands that was scrabbling towards them. To the cave that Jeksy had run down towards. She put the phone to her mouth once again.

“Seventh realm beam attack that can spawn an endless tide of third realm shadowy hands. Juniper the Fair Hearted requesting any and all realmer crafted relics or inertial guidance missiles on the Flesh Titan. No amount of Fourthers is capable of stopping or slowing this thing.”

The chances were low that the Adventurer’s Guild would be able to mobilize them. Teleportation quotas were too strained to teleport missiles and the City of Defiance didn’t have them, preferring magical defenses crafted by dragonslayers instead.

Vortex bolts didn’t work. They’d need artifacts that weren’t adventurer made that also had the power of a ninth realm throwing out a [Fireball]. Whenever stuff like that was found in Sector Eleven it was always bought out by governments or the dragonslayers.

Now that the Flesh Titan had learned to use its shadowy hands, there was no saving anyone, Valee or not. All the Unwanted were going to die.

The crawling hands were almost upon them.

[Right Place, Right Time] was telling her to ditch the Unwanted Elf and save herself.

Juniper the Fair Hearted.

A stupid little moniker.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep