I was clinging to a Level 35 Armored Specter, my B-Rank rapier lodged in its neck seam. The single [CRITICAL HIT] had done minimal damage (-70HP out of 450), but it had bought me the critical commodity: time. The other two Specters were frozen, processing the anomaly clinging to their ally
"Flèche!"
I yanked my rapier free, using the momentum of the pull to execute a [Rapier Arts: Flèche]—a D-Rank dashing attack. I sprang off the Specter's shoulder and dashed toward the far corner of the massive crypt.
The wounded Specter roared, an agonizing sound of tearing mana. The other two immediately resumed their charge, their massive obsidian greatswords scraping the black marble floor.
I didn't try to outrun them. I ran toward the structure of the crypt itself.
'The environment is 80% of any battle,' the System had told me in the tutorial. These Level 35 constructs were designed to be killed by pure magic or overwhelming force—the tools of an Archmage, not my Level 22 speed.
