Return of the Woodcutter

Aito jumped down from his camp's wall onto the ground, taking care to avoid falling into the trench he had built, then rapidly made for the first line of defense, the Deep Ditch he called it.

Meanwhile, horrific howls grew louder as they approached his position. Stationed at the passageway between the forest and his camp, a small bridge that granted access to the glade, Aito waited for the first sign of berserkers.

His plan was simple, keep them from surrounding him for a while using the Deep Ditch. There was no way they could jump the Deep Ditch to reach him. It was too wide and… well, too deep.

The only way to him was the bridge.

From what he had heard, berserkers were almost brainless monstrosities whose thoughts were reduced to their basic instincts.

However, he figured that even idiots would understand it was pointless to waste their lives getting impaled at the bottom of a chasm-like defensive trench.

The trees in front of him moved, pushed around by large figures with muscles that would shame bodybuilders. They had bald heads, tall frames, and bulging purple veins that, visible to the naked eye, pumped whatever foul liquid into their bloodstream.

Apart from their disfigured faces that betrayed their previous look as human male or female, there were no traces of humanity left in them.

They were just monsters.

Aito watched as three berserkers walked out of the forest. He looked around his small camp. Nothing. Only these three appeared, but Aito had no doubt more were waiting in the dark. He could feel some of them thanks to his Domain.

ROAR!

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The three berserkers charged madly towards him, stomping the ground beneath their awfully large feet.

Staring deep into the crazed red eyes of a berserker, Aito showed no mercy. Seizing his ax with two hands, his muscles contracted and relaxed with practiced timing as he hurled it with all his strength.

Soulcleaver's blade, coated yellow by Durability, pierced the air to cleave the monster in half from its right shoulder to its left flank. The soul weapon went through like a knife cutting butter, then flew into the dark forest, waiting for its master to call it back.

One berserker tried to jump the Deep Ditch, however, it soon realized its stupidity when it landed on wooden spikes. With its weight and the long fall, the spike went through its hide, impaling it dead.

The last one ran on the bridge at inhuman speed. Aito, who stood at the edge of it, waited patiently for the monster to come to him.

It roared ferociously, lifting its mighty fist high, ready to pummel the puny human so deep into the earth no one would find him.

However…

BAM!

The berserker's internal rage froze for a moment when Aito grabbed his mighty arm with one hand. One hand! It could barely stand this disgrace.

Aito gripped tightly, pulled, closed his available fist while applying Durability and Impact on his gauntlet, then aimed for the berserker's chest.

Red eyes opened wide, the monster's broad chest carved in under Aito's blow. Propelled backward like trash, it spat out purple blood.

Meanwhile, Aito called back his ax. Passing the berserker's body, it separated it in half before nestling itself into its master's hand.

'More blood!' Soulcleaver whispered to Aito.

'Shut up!' Aito replied, although he knew the ax wouldn't listen.

The 1st wave ended with little to no effort. Silence loomed over the glade as Aito kept his guard up. Segolene had told him the Flood was different than the normal quest. To put it simply, instead of taking four days to clear the quest it would take one day. However, it also meant the difficulty increased drastically.

After a short two minutes break, the 2nd wave was launched. Instead of three, four berserkers ran out of the forest, madness in their bloodied eyes. Some fell into the Deep Ditch, the rest fell to his blade.

Another silent two minutes break took place after that second assault, only increasing the stress factor it these horrific monsters put on him.

Soon the 3rd wave came, so did five berserkers. Aito dealt with them as fast as possible, minimizing his moves, maximizing efficiency as to not waste his stamina.

Fourth wave.

Fifth wave.

Sixth wave.

They kept coming at him. He kept killing them all without mercy, keeping one goal in mind: getting to the 8th floor as fast as possible. There was a certain set amount of waves on the 7th floor during the Flood that would generally take half a day for challengers to clear. But he did not aim for a slow clearing.

Seventh wave.

Eighth wave.

Ninth wave.

With each consecutive wave, their numbers grew. Numbering eleven on the ninth wave, three fourth of their numbers fell into the Deep Ditch, never to return. The tenth wave came, and he was ready, massacring them all. Drunk on death, he barely took notice of the influence his own weapon had on his bloodlust.

Eleventh wave.

'Kill.'

Fifteenth wave.

'Kill.'

Twentieth wave.

The twenty-one berserkers tried to take advantage of their numbers to surround him. However, the trench prevented them from doing so. Forced to play in the palm of his hand, they were all butchered without exception.

Thirtieth wave.

'Kill.'

Fortieth wave.

'Kill.'

Fiftieth wave.

Forty-eight berserkers surged from the darkness. Their numbers were still manageable thanks to the Deep Ditch. But Aito noticed something he hadn't taken into account. The trench was being filled with corpses. A few even survived the fall, a few he had to kill if he wanted to activate the next wave.

'I'm starting to run low on stamina,' he thought, catching his breath during the break that changed from 2 minutes to 1 minute. 'Moreover, the trench isn't deep enough to kill them now. Soon there'll be a bridge of corpses they could use to pass the Deep Ditch.'

The next wave, he changed his tactic and attacked them first as soon as they exited the forest instead of waiting for them.

By the Sixtieth wave, berserker corpses filled the part of the Deep Ditch he was defending, forcing him to deal with more than one enemy at a time. As strong as a level 2 challenger, each berserker was strong in their own right. Aito might have higher stats but they had the numerical advantage.

Dawn shone on the horizon. He had been almost fighting for 6 hours straight, maybe longer. Hard to tell with no clock. Using Pneuma and the breaks between waves to rest, he had been able to hold on until now, but... he was reaching his limits. He could feel it.

At first, one additional berserker per wave felt like a trivial amount. Now, with fifty-seven of them during the last wave, he no longer held that thought.

'I need more time to rest. Summoning Krugan is an option. No, better keep him for the next floor which certainly will be more difficult. The 24 hours cooldown will only allow me to call him once during the Floor. Better make this count.'

Around ten seconds remained before the next wave. Aito looked around him, searching for a solution to his problem. He knew he hadn't prepared well enough for this. But time played against him.

Roars suddenly burst out of the forests as he stared at the piles of corpses inside the Deep Ditch. Considering it was a trench surrounding his whole camp, and he's been fighting on the same side all along, only 1/4th of the trench was filled with corpses.

An idea struck him, an idea he did not have time to think through, with a bit less than sixty berserkers coming for his tanned ass.

'Here goes nothing,' he thought as he jumped down the Deep Ditch, landing on a pile of corpses to avoid the wooden spikes.