Luna rose from her concealment, studying the distances carefully. The Warrior was perhaps seventy feet from her current position—within range if she used Hunter's Mark. The Shaman was another twenty feet deeper, inside the cave proper, still channeling power into the totem.

  "The Shamans I fought earlier had a range of maybe forty feet for their spells," she said quietly. "Shorter than my arrows even without my Hunter's Mark. If this one is locked to the totem while channeling, he'd be a stationary target, his spells unable to reach me. But I don't know if the totem changes his range."

  Darkpaw's ears flattened with confusion. "You measure distance in your feet? But I would think every one of you furless ones has a different foot size. I would say that Shamans can only attack within four leaps. I'm not sure how that translates to your furless feet, nor how the totem affects their magic. I didn't encounter those before, only heard about them from Astra."

  Luna almost smiled despite the tension. Cultural differences in measurement systems—not something she'd expected to encounter in a life-or-death tactical discussion. She tried to estimate a panther's leap. Maybe ten to twelve feet? That would put the Shaman's normal range at forty to fifty feet. Roughly consistent with her own observations, which was reassuring.

  "Only one way to find out," she said. "I'll take out the Warrior first. When he's down, I can deal with the Shaman from range."

  She activated Hunter's Mark, watching as the green targeting symbol appeared above the Warrior's head. Then she channeled Venomous Shot into her arrow as well, just in case.

  Luna drew back her bowstring, sighted along the shaft, and released.

  The arrow flew true, covering the seventy feet in a heartbeat, trailing the familiar green shimmer. It struck the Warrior in the temple—a perfect headshot that should have ended the fight instantly.

  It didn't.

  The Warrior's Aether Shield flared brilliantly, absorbing the vast majority of the impact. The arrow skidded across his skull, leaving a bleeding scratch but nothing more. She wasn't even sure if the poison had taken effect. The goblin's eyes snapped open, instantly alert, and he was on his feet with his sword drawn before Luna could nock her second arrow.

  Then he charged.

  Luna had seen Roger move—had watched his Rogue-enhanced speed carry him across distances faster than any normal human could manage. This Warrior moved just as fast, maybe even faster, his Level 10 advancement and Iron-rank Class Form propelling him towards her position with terrifying velocity.

  She released her second arrow at forty feet. The Warrior's sword flashed, deflecting the shaft with a precise parry that spoke of real skill, not just System-granted ability.

  Thirty feet now. Twenty. Luna jumped back, buying space, but the Warrior was gaining ground faster than she could retreat while facing him. She could just turn back and run away—she was sure to still be faster than him—but there wasn't much of a point.

  "Darkpaw!"

  The panther burst from the undergrowth to the Warrior's left, a blur of shadow and yellow eyes. He couldn't fight at full strength—his wounds made that impossible—but he didn't need to. He just needed to exist, to present a threat the Warrior couldn't ignore.

  The goblin's charge faltered as he twisted to face this new danger, sword sweeping toward Darkpaw's flank. The panther dodged backward, easily avoiding the strike, and that moment of distraction was all that Luna needed.

  Her third arrow took the Warrior through the neck.

  His Aether Shield flared again, weakening from the attack but holding true. The arrow punched through, not deep enough to kill but deep enough to stagger him. He stumbled, one hand going to his throat, and Luna's fourth arrow caught him in the eye before he could recover.

  The Warrior dropped.

  [Goblin Warrior (Iron) - Level 10 defeated]

  The Shaman had stopped channeling. The goblin caster stood at the cave entrance now, staff raised, green energy gathering at its tip, tinged with an unnatural violet luster as he searched for the threat that had killed his guardian. His eyes found Luna first, then Darkpaw, then swept back to Luna with murder in his gaze.

  "You shouldn't have done this," the Shaman growled as he prepared for the attack.

  "Get back," Luna told the panther. "I'll handle this one."

  Darkpaw didn't argue. He retreated into the treeline, limping but alive, leaving Luna alone to face the Shaman.

  She measured the current distance between them with careful precision. Eighty feet or so—but her effective range had grown since the First Trial. The level-ups had enhanced more than just her raw power; she had felt the connection to her arrows extending further than before when she'd used the Hunter's Mark on the warrior.

  She activated the skill again, this time targeting the Shaman, and released her first arrow.

  The shaft flew true—but the Shaman saw it coming. The goblin thrust its staff toward the totem, drawing on its power, and a wall of dark violet energy materialized between them—the color of corruption itself. Luna's arrow struck the barrier and shattered, fragments scattering harmlessly to the ground.

  The Shaman's lips pulled back in a vicious grin, revealing needle-sharp teeth. He kept one hand extended toward the totem, maintaining the barrier, while the other thrust his its staff toward Luna's position.

  A glob of viscous green poison shot from the staff's tip, trailing noxious fumes as it arced through the air. Luna watched its trajectory with clinical detachment—and didn't move. The projectile fell short by at least fifteen feet, splattering against the forest floor and immediately beginning to dissolve the vegetation it touched.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  Out of range.

  The Shaman snarled in frustration and fired again, pouring more power into the attack. This time the poison glob flew further—but still fell short, landing perhaps ten feet from Luna's position. The totem's enhancement wasn't enough to bridge the gap between them. And even if it had been, Luna realized, she could have dodged easily—the projectiles were far slower than arrows, their trajectories predictable and simple to read.

  Luna nocked another arrow and released it. It shattered against the barrier.

  Another arrow. Another impact against the violet shield.

  The Shaman kept firing, each poison glob falling uselessly short, and Luna kept shooting, each arrow breaking apart before it could reach its target. It became a war of attrition—a test of endurance rather than skill. Would the totem's power run out first, or would Luna exhaust her ammunition?

  She counted her arrows as she fired. Twenty-five remaining. Twenty. Fifteen. The violet barrier showed no signs of weakening, and the Shaman's fruitless attacks kept coming with mechanical regularity. Luna settled into a rhythm, draw and release, draw and release, each shot chipping away at whatever reserves the totem was providing.

  Ten arrows left. The barrier's violet glow seemed slightly dimmer now, or was that wishful thinking? The Shaman no longer tried to attack, fully focused on maintaining his protection.

  The goblin opened his mouth for the first time. "F-foolish human! I only need to endure until my allies return! They left to hunt for the intruder, but they will surround and kill you for attacking me! Give up and run while you can!"

  "First, I'm an elf," Luna clarified. "Second... I doubt that any help is coming for you."

  Seven arrows. The Shaman's movements were becoming sluggish. The goblin was tiring, burning through whatever reserves the rot totem provided, and his own Mana couldn't be high, either.

  "An elf? What nonsense—"

  Five arrows. The barrier flickered visibly when her arrowhead struck it—the first sign of weakness she'd seen.

  Four arrows. Another flicker, longer this time.

  Three arrows remaining in her quiver.

  Luna drew, aimed, and released.

  The barrier shattered.

  Her arrow punched through empty air where the shield had been and buried itself in the Shaman's shoulder. The goblin shrieked—a sound of pain and disbelief—and stumbled backward against the totem. His staff clattered to the ground, the green glow at its tip completely extinguished. The Shaman was spent, barely able to stand, his Mana reserves and the totem's borrowed power exhausted simultaneously, and even his Class Form started to flicker.

  Luna's second-to-last arrow took him through the throat.

  The Shaman collapsed against the totem, clawing weakly at the shaft protruding from his neck, and then went still.

  [Goblin Shaman (Iron) - Level 10 defeated]

  [Level Up! You are now Level 7]

  The warmth of advancement spread through Luna's body, but she didn't feel that much stronger. It seemed that each level only provided a fixed increase, which was becoming less significant with every new level-up. But she didn't pause to examine the sensation and consider the implications. The totem was still standing deep in the cave, and even though it wasn't radiating that dark violet energy anymore, some deep instinct she possessed was still screaming at her to destroy it.

  She approached the structure carefully, Darkpaw limping out of the treeline to join her. The totem was perhaps seven feet tall, carved from dark wood that now looked almost ordinary—whatever dark power had animated it was gone, leaving behind nothing but mundane timber. Symbols had been etched into its surface, but the runes were inert and lifeless.

  "The barrier drained its power source," Darkpaw observed, studying the totem with wary eyes.

  Luna circled the structure until she found what she was looking for—a hollow space carved into the back of the totem, sized to hold something roughly the size of her fist. Inside sat a crystal that must have once glowed with dark violet light, but now appeared dull and cracked.

  Luna reached in and pulled the dead crystal free. It was surprisingly light, and faintly warm to the touch. She turned it over in her hands, studying the cracks that spider-webbed across its surface, and surprisingly the System identified it.

  [Essence Shard (Lesser) - Depleted]

  "An Essence Shard," Darkpaw said, recognition coloring his mental voice. "Those are uncommon. Mere low level goblins shouldn't possess something like this... and having it filled with the Rot Essence is even more unusual. Not like any of it is left, of course."

  Luna stored the crystal in her Space Pouch—it weighed almost nothing, and she'd learned not to discard potentially useful items without understanding their full properties.

  "Are these valuable?" she asked.

  "When charged, extremely so. When spent..." Darkpaw's mental equivalent of a shrug. "I'm not sure. Perhaps Astra would know if there is a way to restore them, but I would not count on it."

  Then Luna turned her attention back to the totem itself. Her Nature's Blessed trait was still recoiling from the structure, though less intensely now that its power source was gone. Even drained of magic, the totem's very existence felt wrong—an abomination crafted to corrupt and destroy. Something deep in her elven heritage responded with instinctive fury.

  She raised her hunting knife and drove it into the totem's heart.

  The corrupted wood cracked beneath the Mana-enhanced blade. Luna twisted the knife and pulled, carving out a chunk of dark timber, then struck again. She worked methodically, cutting the structure apart piece by piece until the weakened frame could no longer support itself. With a final groan of tortured wood, the totem collapsed in on itself.

  Luna felt something release—a pressure she hadn't even consciously registered, a weight that had been pressing against her spirit since she first sensed the corruption. The forest itself seemed to exhale with relief, the wrongness fading like a fever breaking.

  She stood at the cave mouth, breathing steadily, her quiver nearly empty but her Mana reserves still above half. The fight hadn't been particularly draining—most of her arrows had simply shattered against the barrier without requiring additional Mana investment. Behind her, Darkpaw regarded the ruins with deep satisfaction.

  "It is done," he said. "The corruption from this source, at least, has been ended."

  Luna focused on her quiver, channeling Mana to regenerate her spent arrows. The process was familiar now—each shaft materializing in five seconds, costing a hundredth of her reserves. She worked through the replenishment while considering what they'd learned. Organized goblin activity, multiple corruption sources, a coordinated attack on the forest itself. This was bigger than a simple survival Trial—there was a conflict happening here, a war being fought beneath the surface that most participants probably wouldn't even notice.

  "We should keep moving," she said once her quiver was full again. "I want to meet this Astra of yours."

  "Agreed." Darkpaw pushed himself upright with renewed energy, the victory over the totem seeming to have restored some of his spirit even as his body remained wounded. "The Grove isn't far now. And Astra will want to hear about this—an elf appearing in the forest, a Rot Totem destroyed, the goblins' plans disrupted. Much has happened that requires her wisdom to unravel."

  They set off together through the recovering forest, the panther limping ahead while Luna followed with her bow ready. The trees already seemed healthier than before—less withered, the air less acrid, as if the destruction of the totem had lifted a curse from the immediate area.

  "We did something good today, didn't we?" Luna said. She could swear that she felt the forest thanking her for getting rid of the totem and those using it.

  "Yes, we did, Luna of Earth." Darkpaw's mental voice sounded satisfied, but there was a hint of tiredness and something else behind it. "Yes we did."