MISERY

Yes. Yes. Now they were really starting to kick it into high gear. Perhaps a little downtime was what the bees needed to set things straight, because as the boars came in for their next pass against MISERY, both found themselves damaged by the sting of the striped creatures. An opportunity like this one couldn't be put to waste, so MISERY lashed out with his scythe and raked it against the second boar. It, too, suffered bleed damage.

Both affected by thorns. Both affected by bleed. Regen was working. Mitigation was preventing damage. Once again, the set worked to perfection, each enhancement marrying the other in a chain of events that made victory assured. This was what he was built for. This was what was supposed to happen. And as MISERY had discovered, it often wasn't how things played out. But when they did, saying it was cathartic was underselling it. It was glorious.
 

There they were. More helpful victims funneled in to fill the hooves of those dispelled before. The algorithms were working in top form today to churn the cretins out as fast as physically possible, lest MISERY reduce every mob on the floor to cinders faster than it could manage to keep up. They noticed him immediately, and both dashed forward in unison, a different tactic than the herds before them had employed. 

MISERY reacted in kind, brandishing his weapon with zeal before lashing it forward and into one of the charged boars. It squealed in agony and double back to avoid taking any more damage, but the attack had left MISERY wide open for the other to land the perfect strike. Virtually no damage, of course, but no repercussions from thorns either. Yet again, the bees were failing to fulfill their duty. Was it even worth it to continue training such weak and lazy animals?
 

With the mobs out of the way, it was time to inspect his bees and see if any progress had been made. They'd under performed a bit in that last exchange, so MISERY had his doubts that anything had been done to further their cause. He had needed to do most of the work himself, which was no easy feat without the use of any Sword Arts.

As the bee was squashed between his fingers, just as the ones before it, MISERY knew. There was no tangible difference between the last time and now. They had been slacking, perhaps tired with the perpetual combat. But that was the point of all of this. Throughout their lives they would know nothing but combat. This was a sort of preparation for that.

No matter. The next round of boars would be here soon. He would compel the bees to work harder, and overcome their shortcomings from the encounter before. It was the least they could do for hanging him out to dry in the way that they had.
 

The scythe had done its job, tearing open a new wound from which the boars blood would pour. Despite the end being in sight, it still remained frozen in place. It had definitely become glitched. In all his time in Aincrad, MISERY had neither witnessed nor heard of any mob behaving this way. There was no reason for it, but MISERY supposed he appreciate the free loot.

And boy, was it decent loot. Another rare armor to add to his ever growing collection. With each he obtained, his chances of getting something truly unique increased. It was a shame, though, that he had to pay for each identification he commissioned.

The tide was turning, however. He was finally reaching a point where the col he earned on these excursions outweighed the col he lost from the identifications. The reward from the first Arabian Nights quest had carried him this far, but from this point on, he would be carrying himself.

Thanks, Cordelia.
 

Despite having just received a swift thwack upside the noggin, the creature remained steadfast and unmoving. Its beady eyes peered into the holes of MISERY's mask, straight into the crimson pools that swirled within. Once again, MISERY silently inquired as to what it was that was taking place here. Was the boar paralyzed by some unseen force? No, its status bar would have indicated as such. Frozen in fear, perhaps? No, that didn't match up with its behavior before all of this started. Maybe it had become glitched, doomed to stand in place, panicking as its limbs listened not to the commands its feeble mind issued. Watching as its natural predator casually strolled up to it, inspected it, smacked it, then went in for the kill.

It was suffering, and MISERY was all too happy to put it out of its... well, misery. It would have been foolish to not take advantage of such an accommodating target, anyways.

So he sank his scythe into it.
 

Enough of this. It was time to test the waters. MISERY slowly walked toward the boar, which seemed to track his movements but not regard him as a legitimate threat. Curious, MISERY cocked his head at the creature, which cocked its own head right back at him. What exactly was it that was happening here? Had the boar come to perceive him as a hostile mob, much the same as it was? Was it possible that MISERY was a hostile mob that had tricked itself into believing it was a player.

He'd been out here too long. Absolutely none of that made sense, and he knew it. His mind was playing tricks on him again. The same happened anytime there was a particularly maddening and repetitive venture. His mind would wander in ways unbecoming of him.

So he smacked the creature with the blunt side of his scythe to stir it from whatever trance it had put itself into. They weren't the same. They weren't even comparable. And MISERY was more than happy to remind it of that one simple fact.
 

And then, the strangest thing happened. The boar simply stopped in its tracks. Despite the fire it had shown only moments before, it suddenly didn't seem too keen on continuing the battle. It couldn't - or rather, shouldn't have been that it had gotten cold hooves over the whole ordeal. Their last exchange had ended with it not taking any reflected damage. In fact, this mob in particular hadn't taken any thorns damage whatsoever. So why had it suddenly lost interest in the battle?

For some reason, MISERY sensed a trap. Something that would cause him to let his guard down, leaving him open to a brutal retaliation. Which was silly, of course, because it was a basic mob on the first floor. A boar, no less. In what way could a boar possibly hope to sell such a rouse? Once again, MISERY was simply overthinking things.

And despite knowing this, the hairs on the back of his neck still stood at attention. Something wasn't right about the whole situation. He would need to dispatch this mob quickly and select a new location to continue the hunt if he was to shake this foreboding sensation.
 

Ah, there it was. The ferocity he'd so longed to see from this creature. It had been spurred by the recent lashing it had received, and its fight or flight mode had finally kicked in. Perhaps predictably, it went with fight, and rammed into MISERY's side with all of its might.

It barely did anything, of course. But it had managed to emerge from the exchange unscathed. That is, aside from the bleed damage that was still sapping its health away pixel by painstaking pixel. 

Eventually, it seemed as though the affliction had run its course. The status icon faded, and its health ceased plummeting. There was still a decent chunk that remained - just under half. It would take another good hit, or some consistent thorns damage, to bring it down and present the loot it held. Either of those methods, MISERY could oblige. He only hoped he had the creativity to persevere.
 

The first boar attacked again, but this time thorns did it in. With that pest out of the way, there was nothing stopping MISERY from taking a shot at the second. The scythe shot forward, its blade gleaming with light as it carved a fresh gash straight through the creature. The sheer impact from the hit knocked it back several feet, out of range of a counter attack. MISERY stifled a chuckle as it snorted in frustration and slowly rose to its feet, clearly crippled by the bleed that had been inflicted.

That seemed about right, all things considered. This battle was going much the same as the ones before it had. The boars would attack, hurt themselves and die. If they did not attack, MISERY's intensely sharp blade could do the job - even without the use of Sword Arts. MISERY hadn't witnessed his set work so marvelously - and consistently - since he first conceived of it. Where there had once been doubt, there was nothing but the utmost confidence that he was following the correct path.
 

MISERY sized up for his next attack against the second boar, but was blindsided by a blistering attack from the first. It wasn't that it hurt, or even particularly displaced MISERY. It was just enough of an impact to make him miss. Which was disappointing, because that was exactly the purpose of the bees. Had they been properly trained, his attack would have hit its mark. It was because they had not yet been fully trained that they were out here in the first place.

That was a turn squandered. Disappointing, but not the end of the world. The next would find its mark and, with any luck, the first boar would soon do itself in against his thorns. That would leave behind only MISERY and the second boar. Having only a single target to worry about would make things quite a bit easier, and it was only by the grace of Cardinal that such a thing would be permitted in the first place. His set had worked flawlessly at the beginning of the battle, and he had faith it would again toward the end.
 

Things here were on a cycle of sorts. That much, MISERY understood. Just as before, two boars spawned in to replace the ones he'd slaughtered. The difference this time was that MISERY had been waiting for them, and was ready.

Before the shimmer of the mobs spawning had even began to wane, MISERY had his scythe poised, and brought it down on the boar nearest to him. Brought into life, only to find a blade lodged into its spine and its already minuscule health waning as quickly as it had populated. The boar, now spooked, lashed out at MISERY, only to find a collection of bees halting the attack and dishing the damage back. 

The other boar had only just noticed MISERY's presence, and began circling. It seemed as though it thought itself staring down its prey. It hadn't a clue how wrong it was. No matter, it would see the error of that train of thought soon enough.
 

Just as he had before, MISERY fumbled his hand through the interior of his cloak until he held one of the bees in his hand. He held it up to his mask and peered through the holes at it, investigating its tiny body for any notable changes, before applying pressure. Though its exoskeleton eventually gave way and the bug was squashed, the act faced quite a bit more resistance than it had the first time. It was more difficult than before, which meant that they were moving in the right direction. Splendid.

That didn't mean that there work was done, however. MISERY was convinced that they would be forced to face at least one more pack of mobs before they were through. Just to be safe. Just to ensure that, after this was all done, they would be able to protect him. It was what he needed before he moved on from this floor and investigated the remainder of the castle. Going ahead without a trained familiar was a fools errand.
 

It didn't take long before the boar's health value reached zero, and it burst into a cloud of shattered blue confetti. Breaking glass accompanied the display, and before MISERY could watch the fractals dissipate into oblivion, a loot screen populated in front of him. It appeared as though he'd managed to make off with a rare weapon - though, whether or not it would be of any tangible use remained to be seen.

Another pair of boars down. Another stage in the development of the bees fulfilled. Things were going well so far, albeit a tad slow, but MISERY felt confident that it wouldn't be long before they saw the end of this charade. Once the bees had toughened up to the extent that was necessary, MISERY would be able to move on and pursue more engaging endeavors. He couldn't shamble about the fields of the first floor forever. He had to push himself to new heights.
 

Momentum was important when someone got into a stride such as this. MISERY kept the pressure on, dashing in toward the boar and raking his scythe across its hide. Just as before, bleed was inflicted - or, rather, it was refreshed The boar, who was now too weak to fight back, fell to its side and began breathing raggedly. This fight was as good as over. Now all that MISERY had to do was wait for bleed to finish the job.

It was pathetic. The boar was so weak that it wasn't even able to writhe, only occasionally twitching as pangs of pain ripped through its body. It looked at MISERY out of the corner of its eyes, a mixture of ferocious rage and quiet fear playing within them. It knew it was going to die, and there was nothing that either of them could do to stop it Not that MISERY would even attempt to stop it if he were able.
 

Emboldened by the apparent progress of his training, MISERY lurched forward and struck the final remaining boar with his bony scythe. It yelped, then began to bleed, its health bar slowly draining as the status effect began to take hold. It seemed that finally being hit by something had spurred the small animal into action, however, and as though driven purely by instinct, it dashed forward and into MISERY.

Just as before, the bees sprung into action and took the brunt of the attack, dealing damage back as well. For the first time since he had assembled the pieces, his build was working at optimal efficiency. Every piece's effects were flowing together in perfect tandem to generate the ultimate killing machine. Or, at least, the highest caliber for someone of his level without any Sword Arts at his disposal. The bleed sapped the mob's health, as well as the thorns, while his mitigation soaked damage and regen healed off whatever made it through his impregnable defense. For the first time, he saw how powerful his build could be if the conditions were absolutely optimal.
 

Though MISERY had now set his sights on the second boar in their tiny pack, the first boar seemed more frenzied and violent than ever. It charged forward while MISERY wasn't paying attention, but the bees formed a small wall between their master and the attack accosting him to absorb the damage. Their razor sharp stingers inflicted enough damage to smite the creature, and in a flash, it combusted into a cloud of polygonal blue fractals that slowly dissipated into nothingness.

Perfect, MISERY though to himself. It seemed as though, even without his guidance, the bees had come to understand their new role in the world. No longer did they exist simply to stockpile honey and pollinate flora. Now their purpose was the protect the monolithic giant that had conquered their queen. A crooked smile stretched beneath MISERY's mask as the contemplated the implications. They were his now.
 

As though willing to tempt fate, the same boar from before dashed forward and took another pass at MISERY. Just as they had before, his bees stood in the way of the animal's gallant jaunt, absorbing the damage and dealing back a chunk of their own. From the green to the red the health bar plunged, like a flashing Christmas light during the holiday season. Only this one wouldn't be going back to green before it blew completely.

The other boar, of course, stood on like an oblivious mushroom. What was going through its head, MISERY wondered? Nothing important, probably. Not that it mattered - MISERY would be getting to it soon enough. The full and vibrant verdant health bar it sported was just annoying enough to fill MISERY with the desire to snuff it out entirely. 

More trouble than they were worth, if not for the fact that this was a vital part of training his familiar. The loot didn't even excite him anymore.
 

Finally, some headway. Following in line with the strange alternating pattern the boars seemed to be following, the other boar scraped its hooves across the earth before dashing forward. The bees fulfilled their duty, soaking the majority of the damage and stinging their opponent in the process. The boar shrieked, then snorted, then double back. Its health bar now drained to a significant degree, MISERY-s confidence in their ability to dispatch the mobs quickly was restored.

Whether due to a communication algorithm, or just from seeing the other boar take damage, the second boar stood on in bewilderment. Say what you will about the mobs of Aincrad, but when one of their own is damaged, they notice. Call it their aggro code. It seemed to shift their behavior, and make them less predictable. That was all fine and good, so long as they died all the same in the end.
 

Wishful thinking indeed. No, they would just continue getting crits, from the looks of it. As though in an alternating pattern of some sort, the other boar charged forward and rammed its skull into MISERY. He hardly felt a thing, but noticed that, yet again, his bees had failed to reflect any damage back. Frustrated, MISERY lashed out, raking his scythe across one of the boars, which did a negligible amount of damage.

Patience could only carry a man so far. It was becoming more and more obvious that Cardinal was conspiring against him. He knew that his build relied on a certain luck aspect, but he'd played the odds before. Ran the numbers. He had been inordinately unlucky in just about every single battle since he started this whole ordeal. Perhaps it was divine punishment for so willingly adopting the mantle of the orange player. Or, maybe he was just putting too much thought into it.
 

At the very least, it didn't take long for MISERY to make his next encounter against some mobs. Two boars spawned in nearby to replace those who had fallen only minutes before, and they took note of him almost immediately. As though able to smell the blood of their fallen brethen intermixed with the noxious liquid that cloaked MISERY's frame, one dashed forward and smacked its skull into him with all its might. Though it had put up a valiant effort - and avoided taking thorns damage - it was able to do little more than deduct a sliver from MISERY's health bar. 1% of his total health points, at most.

He didn't even bother fighting back. Not this time. He merely observed. These boars seemed much more aggressive than the last pair had been. Perhaps he got lucky, and they would kill themselves quicker on the thorns than those who came before? It was wishful thinking, but one was allowed to hope.
 

MISERY hastily snatched one of the bees buzzing around within his cloak, and held it up to the holes in his mask so he could scrutinize it. He looked it over and, after a moment of deliberation, squashed it between his thumb and index finger. Its puny exoskeleton gave with with little resistance, but MISERY could feel that it held up under the pressure better than it would have at the beginning of all of this.

Perfect. They were toughening up. It seemed that the battle had been a success, despite its needless length. The idea of going through yet another spat filled MISERY with a familiar dread, but he knew that it would be necessary if he were to achieve his goal. And, with any luck, a method such as this would be more effective than other attempts made by those less fortunate. Such as the man who chased around a boar for an entire day. 
 

At long last, he'd done it. The beast charged forward, collided with the stingers of his bees, and disintegrated. The loot it dropped was maddeningly scarce, but MISERY was willing to grit and bear it if it meant the battle was over. Finally, he could move on.

There truly were times he'd wished he would have chosen a Sword Art. He had the weapon to put it to good use. It would have made things so much easier. Then again, easy wasn't the path that MISERY had chosen, was it? No, he'd intentionally chosen the path he knew would be difficult, because he fancied the payoff at the end. Whether or not that would turn out to be true remained to be seen.

He certainly hoped it would. It would be disappointing to find the strategy that he'd worked up to ineffective. But if that was what it came to, so be it.
 

Another turn passed. Another turn squandered. Still the boar stood, despite MISERY's best efforts to eliminate it. He knew that he had to be checking on the status of his bees right about now (or several rotations of attacks prior), but he couldn't very well do that when engaged in combat with one of Aincrad's most stubborn mobs.

That reminded MISERY of another tale he'd once heard. About the very same man who'd spent an entire day training his familiar, no less. Apparently, before the man had acquired his familiar, he'd encountered a particularly ornery boar that chased him to the edge of the fields and back. After he'd finally defeated the beast, just before it dealt the finishing blow against himself, he returned to these fields to capture its spawn and force it into a life of servitude.

MISERY now understood why he would feel compelled to do such a thing.
 

Ah, yes. Here it was. The part of the battle that aggravated MISERY the most. That sinister moment when all of the cards fell in the wrong places, and the futility of the situation was drawn out to excruciating measure. The mob had no hope of defeating MISERY. It knew it. He knew it. Anyone with two brain cells to rub together knew it. And yet, it pushed the length of the battle beyond its logical closure point.

Yes. It had struct MISERY. And avoided the sting of his bees. Worse yet, MISERY had failed to retaliate adequately. A battle that should have ended several rotations ago now persisted for at the very least another. At the worst, many more.

MISERY knew that allowing this to anger him would serve no functional purpose. But it didn't stop that from happening. It was difficult to contain such fiery emotions in the face of stubborn pride.
 

Just as he'd considered before. If they refused to attack, he would attack for the both of them. His scythe reached out and plucked one of them from existence, its shattered polygonal remains scattering along the breeze. The other boar stand motionless, its stubby legs quivering, seemingly contemplating what endless nothingness would be like. Worry not, pig, you'll find out soon enough.

In the meantime, there was the loot to consider. Rare armor. Looked decent, too. MISERY hadn't had any luck with his usual Merchant on his last visit, but he'd head rumors of a hole in the wall on the tenth floor. Quite literally. Perhaps he'd take it there once this was all over and try his like with the violet-haired coward that lived there. A change of pace - and company - was never really a bad thing. And the place was PK accessible to boot. No more sneaking around guards.