New Eden: Live to Play, Play to Live

To him, players like Phoenix, or Athena, that had high adaptability in any type of situation were much more dangerous. Athena had already proved she could be resourceful in the past, and he knew she would many times in the future as well.

As for Phoenix, he was well aware of her tactical mind and strategic thinking. Many times, in war, leaders would be rigid about their strategies, and stick to what had been pre-planned.

This would often mean the downfall of a combat force. Phoenix was the opposite of these rigid generals, and her plan of keeping many players mobile during this siege was proof.

A rigid general would have set them at their most \'appropriate\' position and left them there for the entire battle. Phoenix thought otherwise.

Having players already assigned as mobile, meant they could send them anywhere that needed help swiftly. This could mean the difference between getting breached, thus losing, or keeping the troops well re-partitioned throughout the battle and winning.

Readjusting your plan as the battle progressed meant staying flexible enough to keep taking blows without ever breaking. It took a great mind to see far enough to judge what was a good change or a bad one.

It satisfied Astaroth to leave all that thinking to Phoenix. He preferred being covered in blood and guts, in the middle of a never-ending battle.

He relished the feeling of overcoming impossible odds. He would fight in this stone bowl as long as he needed, if it meant keeping the enemies out of the rest of the Bastion.

He knew that was his job for now, and he intended to knock it out of the park.

On the outside of the walls, Khalor was having entirely different thoughts. He didn\'t mind being surrounded by players, since his undead could mostly keep him safe.

But another issue was bothering him.

\'Where is that dang gnome?!\'

Azamus was still nowhere to be seen. He doubted the man was staying safely in a tent somewhere. Even if Azamus was an arrogant bastard, Khalor knew he was also a man of action.

If a battle was going on, he would be there. That only meant he was biding his time somewhere, lining up for the perfect shot.

And that was what worried him. He had been on the receiving end of his sniping, more than once, and he knew Azamus should never be underestimated.

He had also seen Azamus at the peak of New Eden before. He had been the best in the past, and was still trying to reach that again this time.

Azamus was a player that got better the more he felt pressured to achieve greatness. His attitude might be nasty, but his drive was no joke.

That\'s why Khalor couldn\'t commit to fighting with abandon, like Astaroth. He had painted a target on his back, and as long as the first shot wasn\'t taken on Azamus\' side, he had to stay cautious.

But the mental strain to stay on top of his game was quickly tiring out his mind. It was only a matter of time before he started making some mistakes.

Khalor had many high-level undead surrounding him, fighting and pushing away any player that tried reaching their master. But that didn\'t prevent him from having to dodge incoming ranged attacks.

Although he could bat away most projectiles, Khalor wasn\'t omnipotent. Some damage had already started piling on him, as he occasionally got hit by spells or bullets.

He had come prepared, and when his health dipped under certain levels, he would take a health potion to stay close to full. And that was already more than what many players could afford.

Potions, in general, were quite expensive, and right now, Khalor had already drunk a dozen of them to keep his health topped up. It was outrageous to small-time players.

Someone else monitored Khalor\'s behaviour, from not too far away. Killi.

He had been staying close enough to be in range for his bow, but far enough to not get tangled with the stronger undead of Khalor. He was trying to wait for an opportune moment to strike.

And that moment soon came. Having examined Khalor\'s pattern for a while, he knew when the man was about to drink another potion.

And since Khalor would stop moving to do so, that was the perfect moment to hit. As soon as Khalor stopped moving around, Killi pulled out his bow.

He took aim in a single breath, pointing the arrow tip at the Necromancer\'s head. As the bottle reached his lips, Killi released the arrow.

Khalor was almost sipping on his potion when the hair on his nape stood on end. His eye caught something flying at his face rapidly, and he tilted his head backward to dodge it.

The arrow missed his face, but it had another unintended effect.

Khalor\'s eyes widened in horror as the edge of the arrow tip nicked the side of his vial of potion, shattering the glass. The contents of the vial dropped to the ground, getting rapidly absorbed by the disturbed dirt.

His miss disappointed Killi.

\'Dammit! Now he will expect attacks from me. I\'ll never get another chance like this.\'

But as he thought that, Killi received a private message. He glanced at it, and his eyes went wide, as a smile formed on his lips.

Khalor, who had straightened back to look at Killi, saw the lips stretching into a smile.

His heart dropped.

\'Fuck! Where? Where is it going to come from?!\'

The hair on his neck stood again, his body sensing the impending danger.

A loud bang echoed from the forest behind the \'Knights\' guild. Khalor knew it was already too late.

Hearing this bang meant his fate was sealed. He barely saw something gleam before a bullet pierced through his skull.

As his head exploded from the shot, which had immediately emptied his health, all of his undead vanished. Khalor was now standing in a graveyard, inside the Bastion, everything around him grey.

This was a familiar sight for him, since he had died many times in New Eden in the past. But it was the first time in this timeline.

Hatred filled his mind.

"I\'m going to kill you!" he shouted.