"Phew. That was some real Lord of the Rings shit."
Ambrose basically dragged himself past the dungeon Rift, a hand behind his neck while the other lazily held onto the raid team's loot backpack.
The Grave Keeper's scythe was back inside the system's storage space, although if an outsider listened closely they would hear the faint howls of the orcs he slew.
His boots crunched softly against the forest ground as he let out a sigh. "These crystals sure feel hefty." He reached back with a hand, fondling the bag slightly. "And I still managed to bring them out in one piece…"
Surely there has to be an extra reward for such a feat, right?
[The rewards are the people you helped along the way—words that would never come out of your mouth.]
'Tch. Right.' Ambrose finally slid his hand off the bag. 'Whatever. At least I got all those cores. Then my new undead army.'
