Ronan came to, and immediately jerked upright. Then he painfully, and loudly, regretted that decision. His entire body ached as though he'd spent four days in the gym with no breaks.

Considering how painful the absorption process had been, that was quite a relieving sensation in comparison. A message floated in front of his eyes, and once he'd shaken most of the lingering pain from his body, Ronan read through it, eager to see whether his gambit had condemned him, or paid off like hitting green at the roulette table.

[C??m?? ??i???o??] has been absorbed at a 3% efficiency rate!

+4.89 Resistance

+2.88 Endurance

+1.14 Regeneration

+0.54 Wisdom

+3.66 Strength

+2.52 Tenacity

+69.57% Energy absorption efficiency

+217.49% All damage resistance

-1.56 Agility

-2.19 Dexterity

-0.36 Charisma

If negative stats are a thing, that three-percent efficiency just saved my ass. Otherwise, I just lost out big time. Then again, nothing's stopping me from absorbing as much of this overpowered system-brick as possible, he thought to himself.

Ronan wasn't really sure how the energy absorption efficiency would help. Perhaps with cultivation? The all damage resistance and stats would be immediately effective, however, as he was about to throw himself headfirst into one of the toughest fights of his many lives.

Hefting the bonecrusher mace over his shoulder, he then gave it a few practice swings. About a minute later, Ronan felt used to his new stats and the way his body moved. There was a little stiffness, but overall not much had changed. He'd need to take a hit to see the true impact.

With that thought in mind, he raised the mace over his shoulder once more, and then began the steady walk down the dimly lit dungeon corridor. It was time to take down stage 4 of the hard difficulty tutorial.

There was no trepidation in his walk. Ronan almost felt like whistling a merry tune as he approached the cloying darkness that hid his goblin foes.

He paused briefly before entering. This would happen in seconds, but the outcome would decide whether he was able to complete stage 4 this iteration or not.

Mace. It was a perfect weapon for his task. Heavy, and with the levels he'd accumulated, that wasn't a problem. It was a boon.

The many skills that he'd accumulated would let him deliver devastating blows, especially to the relatively unarmoured goblin rogues. Unfortunately he wasn't a hundred percent sure where the rogues would be coming from, or how many there were. He had a rough idea, but not concrete numbers. At least two rogues, and one shaman.

Ronan inhaled. And he took his first step into the dark.

As his vision was consumed, he started cycling his mana. He watched it trickle down, one point at a time, until two-thirds of his mana pool was flowing through his energy channels. He had to keep some in reserve for the battle ahead.

One step. Two.

Ronan kept count each time his feet pressed against the stone tiles. Or whatever the fuck the material was. It was part of him now, for better or worse.

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When he was two steps away from where the first goblin rogue always attacked him, Ronan activated vital surge, and stone grip. His fists tightened around the heavy iron mace.

Then, he began to breathe.

A flash of pain ran through his lungs as the dark mana infected them. Ronan ignored it, and took another step. Immediately, he sensed the difference in how much mana was being absorbed—the energy absorption efficiency increase clearly applied here.

However, it was as much a boon as it was a curse. It meant the corruption spread through his body like a wildfire, but it also cleared the thick darkness at a rapid rate.

Before Ronan's foot even touched the stone on his final step, a roughly circular area with a diameter of about four metres around him had been cleared of the shadowy fog. And it had revealed the nearest rogue, caught off guard by the sudden disappearance of its cover, and the iron mace swinging towards its head.

Ronan was fast, even with the lost agility from his many mineral skeleton integrations. Heavily investing his free stat points into agility and dexterity made up for his deficiencies. Magic strike, sacrificial strike, and double strike were simply icing on the cake.

With a startled screech, the elite rogue attempted to throw itself to one side. A half-second was barely enough time to react. Only its instincts saved it from instant death, as the mace obliterated the right side of its torso.

The crunch echoed through the corridor. Broken bones and mangled flesh flew as the mace carried Ronan in a twirling spin. He almost lost control of the heavy weapon, but the chaotic momentum ended up being beneficial.

As he spun around, he spotted the second rogue rushing at him from the shadows behind. His momentum bar ticked upwards, and rather than having to start from zero, he simply activated charge of the juggernaut.

One moment the rogue was racing to assassinate him, and the next it had turned into a bloody mist. Guts, flesh, and bits of bone splattered onto the ground as Ronan came to a stumbling stop.

He was rapidly gaining momentum, and he kept his eyes on a swivel. Maintaining his mana breathing while fighting was proving challenging, but he had kept it up thus far.

The darkness was almost entirely cleared, and he could now see what had previously been wreathed in shadow. The wounded rogue was staring at him with hate-filled eyes, clutching the bloody hole in its chest with its singular remaining arm.

Then, Ronan saw a green flash of light. Following it back to the source, he found a hunched over, towering figure standing to the side of the corridor about ten metres away. In its gnarled hands, it clutched a twisted staff of bone. At the end of the staff, a skeletal hand clutched a black crystal that seemed to drink in the surrounding light.

Above its head, Ronan saw the words that gave away the game. This was the final enemy he'd been searching for; the one who'd caused him all this frustration.

[Elite Goblin Shaman Lv.29]

The bastard wasn't a much higher level than the two rogues, but he suspected its staff played a large part in its ability to use such powerful voodoo. Even as he watched, the green light covered the wounded elite rogue's body.

Where it passed, the mangled flesh began to heal, knitting itself together at a visible rate. It didn't restore the arm fully—such rejuvenating power was beyond the reach of the shaman—but it left the goblin with a healed chest and a short stump stretching out from its shoulder.

The way it rolled the newly healed joint told him that it had regained most of its mobility, and the raging fire in its eyes let him know he was first on the menu. Unfortunately for the freshly rejuvenated rogue, Ronan wasn't here to play with his food.

A second application of charge of the juggernaut eviscerated the vengeful goblin. The shaman seemed shocked at the swiftness of its comrade's death.

Ronan wasn't leaving anything to chance. He had just enough stamina left to use the skill once more, and he had no desire to be afflicted with any curses.

Although it would help me train anti-magic mastery… The thought was tempting to Ronan, but eventually he decided against it. Far too risky, especially if I want to complete stage 4 in this iteration, or at least give it my best shot.

The shaman roared something unintelligible at him. Ronan didn't care to argue with the ugly git. He simply charged, swung his mace, and activated every skill he had in his arsenal.

To his great shock, the shaman managed to cast one final spell before he plowed into it. The mace smashed against a translucent blue barrier. The impact made the iron tremble, and was transferred into his arm.

A moment later, the barrier shattered and the mace shot forward. Unfortunately the short respite had given the shaman an opportunity to escape death.

Ronan's mace obliterated its left arm, but otherwise it escaped relatively unharmed. Losing an arm was far less crippling for a magic-user compared to the melee fighting rogues.

It was already muttering under its breath as he regained his balance. The mace was unwieldy, and controlling the bounceback when it struck the walls of the dungeon corridor was difficult.

Ronan felt a curse incoming, and knew he had seconds to act before this became a losing battle. He had come so far to earn this victory, and he refused to give it up now.

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