Reality overload

I crouched over the last goblin’s corpse, chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven bursts. It felt like I’d just sprinted a mile, lungs burning, adrenaline buzzing under my skin like static.

Part of it was the fight. Part of it was the fact that I’d taken down three of them in less than a couple of minutes. My whole body was wired, too worked up, the kind of worked up where even the air felt too loud.

Three down.

Lots more to go…

Somewhere deep in this stench‑filled cave, an overgrown boss waited, a hulking shadow I hadn’t even seen yet, but could feel lurking in the dark. The thought alone made my stomach twist.

I swallowed hard. If I messed this up and attracted his aggro, I was done for. No second chances. No retries.

Local “ice princess” found flattened like a pancake, funeral to be held in the nearest puddle.

Perfect. Exactly the kind of obituary I wanted.

I pressed my back to the wall, forcing myself to stay small, quiet, invisible. I peeked out. Nothing in sight yet, but the cave carried distant, scattered chattering, bouncing off the stone in a way that made it impossible to tell how close anything was. Every echo felt like it was creeping up behind me.

I made my way further down the tunnel, each step a careful test of the ground, doing everything I could not to make a sound. The firelight ahead flickered just enough to carve long, twitching shadows across the stone. I crouched in the darkness just outside the glow, letting my eyes adjust.

And then I saw them.

“Good, they were spread out,” I thought, though the relief barely lasted a heartbeat. Spread out didn’t mean safe. Spread out didn’t mean easy. It just meant I had a chance to get caught.

It was still going to be difficult to pull off. Even spread out, even distracted, even with luck on my side, this was a razor‑thin plan. But if I managed it… the level‑ups should give me enough strength to fight the boss. Barely. Maybe.

Level five…

I needed level five before I could take it on. No exceptions. No shortcuts.

Two little gremlins were hunched near a broken, shattered cart, arguing over some shiny piece of something or other. Two targets, out of view of the rest, too busy bickering to notice me. Their voices were sharp, nasal, bouncing off the stone in a way that made my skin crawl.

“Perfect…” I thought. “Distracted enemies were my favorite kind.”

I let a tiny shard of ice form between my fingers, barely the size of a pebble, cold enough to sting. I shifted into a better position behind them, breath held, heart pounding. The air felt thick, heavy, like the cave itself was holding its breath with me.

Then I flicked the ice pebble.

PLINK.

Both goblins snapped their heads toward the cart.

And without waiting, I moved.

I grabbed the first one from behind, iced hand clamping over its mouth, using the chipped dagger to take it out before it could react. It dissolved. The second turned just in time to see my ice‑encrusted blade flicker across its neck, cutting off any scream it might have made, ending in a soft gurgle. ‘poof.’

+240 XP

+240 XP

Stealth +1

I crouched down behind the cart, forcing myself to stay still, listening so hard my ears hurt, trying to see if any of the others noticed. It seemed like none had.

“Thank Hestia,” I thought, though the tension didn’t leave my shoulders. If anything, it tightened.

The cave felt too quiet now. Too still. Like the darkness was waiting for me to slip.

Mulling it over for a moment, I realized I had no idea how to get close to the other goblins without causing a mess. One wrong move and the whole cave would erupt. The boss would hear. The boss would come. And that would be the end.

“OK, I guess the only thing to do was to put this new class to the test.” My brain felt like it had finally kicked into overdrive.

My pulse quickened as I stood up. There was frostbite…, I could use that. Slow them down. Control the field. Create openings. If I could slow them, I could take out as many as possible before the boss orc noticed.

I’m level three now, just about 50% to level four. From what I’ve seen, there is a 20% increase per level of XP needed to reach the next. And on the other side, there’s a 10% decrease in the XP gained from these level one goblins. Doing some quick math, I need 2400 XP to hit level five, so… about fifteen more!?

“Ugh, that’s too many,” I groaned to myself. Well, not much of a choice if I want to get out of here. Glancing over the cart, counting. Looks like… six in this chamber. With two more chambers I can see from here. Too many. Too loud. Too risky.

But I didn’t have a choice.

“OK.” I pinched my cheeks, hyping myself up. “Let’s do this.”

The air felt colder already, like it knew what I was about to do.

I closed my eyes, focusing as I breathed out—

“FUWWAAAAAA…..”

Ice and mist instantly spread around me, expanding outward like a living, creeping cold, swallowing the air, swallowing me, swallowing every last scrap of hesitation I had left. The mist rolled across the stone floor, curling around rocks, swallowing footprints, stretching toward the goblins like a silent tide.

The cave went still.

Eerily still.

And I stepped forward, bringing the cold I’d created. My eyes glowing like twin points of glacial ice. Frost began to layer. Around my hands and cheeks the. Crackle of flash freezing air, making the ambient temperature plummet.

They didn’t notice at first, too busy bickering, scratching, pacing, doing whatever goblins did when they weren’t actively ruining someone’s day.

Good.

I stayed low, slipping from shadow to shadow, the cold clinging to my skin like a second layer. My breath fogged in front of me, barely visible, barely there. I needed to be fast. Silent. Precise.

Or at least… silent enough.

The first goblin wandered a little too far from the group, kicking a rock like it owed him money. Perfect. I slid behind him, frost gathering on my fingertips, coating the second chipped knife in a sheen of ice crystals. One quick strike, and—

FWIP—poof.

+240XP

The sound was soft. Barely anything. But in this cave, even “barely anything” felt like a thunderclap.

One of the goblins paused, ears twitching.

I froze.

The mist didn’t.

It drifted past his ankles, and he shivered, rubbing his arms. “Grrrhhhhak…” he muttered, turning back toward the others.

I exhaled slowly. Too close.

Five left.

I circled wide, keeping to the darkest edges of the chamber. The mist helped; it blurred shapes, softened footsteps, and made everything feel muffled. But it wasn’t perfect. Every time my boot brushed a loose pebble, my heart jumped into my throat.

Two goblins were closest, sitting on overturned crates, arguing over a bone as if it were a priceless artifact. I crept behind them, letting ice gather in my palm. The air around my hand shimmered faintly.

I struck whipping the knife up.

One—

poof.

Two—

poof.

+240 XP

+216XP

Stealth +1

Nice, anything helps, I smiled silently. The drop in Xp not coming unnoticed and I got a ping

LEVEL UP

Nice level four now, level five here I come. In my excitement. A crate shifted under my foot.

“CRIIIIICK.”

I froze.

Three goblins snapped their heads toward the sound. Their beady yellow eyes locking onto me. Completely surprised by my appearance. From inside the cave.

“Crap—”

I lunged before they could shout. The first rushed me, swinging a rusted blade. I ducked under it, letting frostbite flare across the ground. His feet skidded, slipping on the sudden ice. I took him out before he could recover.

”poof…. Poof”

The other two backed up, eyes wide, chattering in panic. Not loud — but loud enough.

“Shit,” I hissed.

I dashed forward, using the mist as cover. One tried to run. I caught him by the collar, pulling him into the fog.

poof.

The last one stumbled backward, tripping over a rock. I was on him before he could inhale to scream.

poof.

+216 XP

+216 XP

+216 XP

+216 XP

Silence.

Real silence this time.

I crouched low, chest tight, listening for any sign that the boss had heard. Any rumble. Any shift of air. Any heavy footstep.

Nothing.

Just the faint drip of water somewhere deeper in the cave… and the soft hiss of my mist fading.

I swallowed hard, wiping frost from my fingers.

“Six down,” I whispered, finally letting myself relax for a minute, catching my breath.

Two more chambers to go.

And the boss was somewhere beyond them — waiting, breathing, listening.

I forced myself to stand, legs shaking just a little.

“Okay,” I whispered. “Nine more to go.”

The mist curled around my ankles like it agreed.

Turning to look at the two paths, I didn’t know which one to choose.

I stared at the fork in the tunnel, left path yawning into darkness, right path curving away like it had something to hide. No clues. No footprints. No goblin chatter. Just two equally suspicious options.

“Okay… think. Use math. Math is reliable. Math has never betrayed you… except in school.”

I squinted at the left path.

Then at the right.

Then back at the left, as if staring harder would magically reveal enemy density.

“Statistically speaking,” I whispered to myself, “I have absolutely no idea.”

Which meant both paths were, in the most painfully literal sense, equally terrible.

A perfect 50/50 split.

A coin toss.

A gamble with my life as the ante.

I nodded to myself like I’d just delivered a groundbreaking scientific conclusion.

“Yes. Good. Very analytical. Very academic. I am basically a cave‑dwelling mathematician.”

I tried to reason it out anyway, because that’s what smart people do, right? They reason. They hypothesize. They pretend they know things.

“If goblins distribute themselves randomly, which, honestly, seems unlikely because they don’t look like they’ve ever understood the concept of randomness, then the expected number of enemies on each path should be equal.”

I paused.

“Unless goblins have a right‑hand bias. Do goblins have a right‑hand bias? Do I have a left‑hand bias? Is this why I always lose rock‑paper‑scissors?”

I shook my head. “Focus, bad Kris.”

“Okay. New theory. Predators like dark corners. Dark corners are usually on the left. So maybe the left path is worse. Or maybe that’s exactly what the cave wants me to think.”

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“Fantastic. I’ve successfully created two contradictory theories that cancel each other out. Truly, my intellect is unmatched.”

The mist curled around my ankles like it was judging me.

“Fine. Statistically, both paths are equally likely to ruin my day. The only real advantage I have is whichever one doesn’t immediately try to kill me in the first ten seconds.”

I took a breath.

Then another.

Then a third, because two didn’t feel like enough.

“Alright, brain. Let’s go pretend we know what we’re doing.”

And with all the confidence of someone who absolutely did not know what she was doing, I stepped forward.

“Left‑hand bias it is…”