The Swamp Leviathan

Ethan knelt over the pile of loot on the ground, rummaging through it casually until his fingers brushed a ring. He inspected it briefly, confirming it was a perception-boosting accessory. No wonder Birdsoar had managed to locate him earlier.

Sliding the ring onto his finger, Ethan tossed the shield from the loot pile to the side.

"Tell Skyblade to switch to a Shield Tank," he said bluntly, his tone leaving no room for debate.

He remembered how, in his previous life, Skyblade had regretted choosing the Weapon Master class. Toward the late game, Skyblade had been envious of Shield Tanks who could stand on the frontline, leading entire raid parties. Unfortunately, the stat allocation system didn't allow for a reset. Even if a player's level dropped back to one, their stat points would slowly revert to the previous build over time.

Ethan glanced at the corpses of Birdsoar and his party, now dissolved into white light. They had likely respawned at the nearest revival point in the city.

Seeing no immediate threats to the rest of Slashblade's group, Ethan activated Stealth and slipped into the shadows, continuing toward his destination.

Meanwhile, Slashblade and the Paladin were left standing amidst the scattered loot, momentarily stunned.

"All he took was a ring?" the Paladin muttered, surprised.

"And he just tossed out a shield, telling Skyblade to switch classes. Is he… advising us?" Slashblade added.

The duo exchanged puzzled glances. Was this person insane? Or just too rich to care about such valuable loot? Either way, his earlier behavior, mercilessly slaughtering Birdsoar's team, hinted at something darker. A lunatic, perhaps.

Whatever the case, Slashblade knew one thing for certain: they had hit the jackpot. Not only could they recover Skyblade's losses, but they could even turn a tidy profit from the surplus gear.

As Slashblade began gathering the scattered items, a thought crossed his mind. The brothers he had to care for, the families of his fallen comrades—they all depended on him. Money wasn't just important; it was everything.

Ethan, on the other hand, was nearing his target coordinates.

He checked the minimap to confirm.

"This is the place."

Standing at the base of a winding mountain trail, Ethan deactivated Stealth and broke into a sprint, his speed pushed to its limit. The trail climbed steeply, zigzagging toward the summit.

It wasn't long before he reached the edge of a cliff. Below lay a vast swamp, with crumbling high-rises draped in vines visible in the distance. This had once been a bustling metropolis, reduced to a decaying wasteland.

The swamp itself had been the city's sewage treatment facility. The mountain he now stood upon was a former landfill site, thrust skyward during the planetary collision that reshaped the world. Ethan recalled learning these details from a map description added in a later update.

As he walked along the cliff's edge, scanning the swamp below, his gaze locked onto a metallic pole resembling a lightning rod. Stopping beneath it, he muttered to himself,

"This is the spot. Last time, I fell here and died."

Shifting into his panther form, Ethan adjusted his stance carefully. He backed up a few steps, measuring the distance before leaping off the edge.

This wasn't a reckless act. Twenty meters below the cliff was a small ledge, just half a meter wide. He had discovered it in his past life when a pursuer's attack sent him tumbling to his death. To his surprise, the ledge overlooked the hunting grounds of a hidden boss. Beneath that ledge lay the hunting grounds of the Swamp Leviathan, the ultimate boss of the starter zone.

The Swamp Leviathan was a Level 20 boss, a treasure trove for new players. It dropped silver-tier weapons usable by any class and with no level restrictions. Despite their low entry requirements, these weapons boasted attributes equivalent to genuine Level 20 silver-tier equipment, making them a dream for early-game players.

Better yet, the Leviathan's loot included weapons with guaranteed fixed damage bonuses, a rarity. Players often wore these weapons well beyond Level 20, as their performance rivaled even Level 80 common iron gear or Level 60 bronze-tier gear.

But there was a catch. The Swamp Leviathan only respawned when the servers rebooted, meaning players had one shot per day to claim its loot. Apart from weapons, it also dropped rare skill books, a treasure trove for anyone lucky enough to land a kill.

In his previous life, the Swamp Leviathan had been one of the most sought-after bosses. Even in the late game, high-level players camped its spawn point, as it was the only silver-tier weapon that could be acquired with relative ease. Many casual players kept these weapons well past Level 100 due to their versatility.

The area around the Leviathan had been a chaotic warzone. Players killed each other relentlessly, leaving the swamp littered with bodies and gear. The situation became so bad that Aeon Corporation had eventually patched the game, barring players over Level 15 from returning to the starter zones.

Even after that, low-level players fought tooth and nail for the Leviathan. Every spawn resulted in dozens of deaths, and the collected loot often surpassed the value of the boss's weapon. Each day, one lucky victor would walk away with a fortune.

But killing the Swamp Leviathan wasn't the hardest part. Nor was fending off competing players.

The real challenge was reaching it.

The swamp below was filled with Level 15 Lesser Crocodiles, passive creatures that posed no immediate threat unless disturbed. However, their sheer numbers were a nightmare. Step on one by accident, and it would let out a roar, alerting every crocodile within a 10x10-meter radius. A single misstep could awaken hundreds of them, resulting in a gruesome and immediate death.

To make matters worse, any player killed in the swamp had their body classified as "destroyed." Resurrection at the nearest graveyard was the only option, which came with a level drop and a debilitating weakened status. It effectively removed them from the competition for the boss.

Ethan's body descended rapidly, his eyes fixed on the narrow outcropping below. As he approached, he switched to his owl form and activated Wingbeat, using it to steady his glide. Pressing himself against the cliff face, he managed to avoid drifting too far off course.

With his heart pounding, Ethan landed on the ledge with a soft thud. He exhaled deeply in relief. If his jump had been even slightly off, he would've plummeted directly onto the Leviathan's back—a guaranteed death sentence.

Finally, his feet touched solid ground. Relief washed over him. The ledge's position was perfect, hidden from view unless someone stood directly on it. From here, he could see the Swamp Leviathan below, slumbering in the shallow swamp.

Ethan's lips curled into a smirk. This discovery had been his alone in his past life. By the time others found it, he'd already profited enough to move on to higher-level zones.

The massive creature lay coiled in its muddy lair, its thick scales glinting faintly. With a health pool of over 40,000, it was no pushover. Ethan checked his spell rotation. With all his available spells, he could deal fixed damage per second, regardless of the target's defense. Combined with Ethereal's guarantee that spells always hit their target, it would take hours to whittle the boss down, but it was doable.

Ethan glanced at the in-game clock. It was just past midnight. Seven hours remained before the server shutdown, more than enough time for the kill.

Ethan cast his first spell, Moonfire, followed by Sunburn. The effects stacked immediately, and he began spamming Lunar Beam.

The Swamp Leviathan roared, its body shaking as it rose, locking its gaze on Ethan. It lunged toward him, massive limbs creating tremors with each step. But the ledge was out of reach. It tried to climb the cliff, standing on its hind legs to roar in frustration. Even at full height, it was still meters below Ethan.

Completely unfazed, Ethan continued casting Lunar Beam repeatedly. He didn't bother keeping track of his balance bar, which shifted between lunar and solar energy. Every cast inflicted at least one point of damage, regardless of alignment, so he saw no need to overthink it.

Minutes passed. Then Ethan noticed something strange—his mana bar had dipped slightly.

"Huh?" He paused mid-cast and switched to Solar Flare. His mana stopped decreasing.

Testing further, Ethan realized the issue: when the Balance Meter tipped toward lunar energy, casting lunar spells consumed mana. But when balanced or leaning solar, they were free.

Understanding dawned. The Balance Meter wasn't just for show; it was a core mechanic for sustain. By keeping both energies equal, he could avoid draining his mana entirely.

Adjusting his rotation, Ethan recalculated his kill time. With Solar Flare taking 1.5 seconds per cast instead of one, he worried he might run out of time. But as long as he kept his balance, he'd make it.