Raising My Trash Ability into a Broken SSS+ Rank Skill Chapter 6: Cursed Hunter
Previously on Raising My Trash Ability into a Broken SSS+ Rank Skill...
[Survival chance: None]
[Difficulty level: Impossible]
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Vritra gazed at the floating text in sheer shock, his eyes darting from the spectral notification toward the limitless swarm of goblins currently restrained by a shimmering, translucent barrier.
"FUCK!! What the hell is this? An infinite wave? Dammit, why is there a death trap like this on the very first floor?" Backing away, Vritra felt his pulse thundering against his ribs.
He had just been celebrating his survival from the lethal plunge, but it turned out the fall wasn't the actual trap; the true nightmare was only just beginning.
A sense of dread washed over him as additional windows manifested before his vision.
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[Quest: Survive the first wave.]
[Reward: 10 Allocation points and the title: The Cursed Hunter (Level 1)!!]
[Penalty: None]
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"Wow, how kind—no penalty. As if I'd even be breathing if I failed!" Vritra growled, unsheathing his blade and biting his lip until it bled to suppress the rising terror.
The atmosphere was heavy with murderous intent. Every goblin looked feral and lethal, throwing themselves against the invisible barricade with psychotic fury. Despite their diminutive stature, their jagged fangs and grotesque forms made them appear truly monstrous.
'Based on rumors regarding the first floor of the labyrinth, these goblins should range from level one to fifteen, right? I can't be certain. Even if my stats are superior to theirs, their sheer numbers are overwhelming. If I get boxed in, I'm a dead man.
As for my abilities, I doubt they’ll be effective here. At the very least, I’ve got plenty of mana and healing potions...' Vritra analyzed the situation, desperately searching for any edge to improve his odds of staying alive.
These cursed creatures were far more terrifying than anything seen in anime; they moved with a frantic, maddened energy.
Vritra's window for contemplation slammed shut as the invisible barrier shattered. The endless tide of green monsters surged toward him, a scene reminiscent of a zombie apocalypse film from Earth.
Their overwhelming volume was terrifying. Though small, they were tireless, their eyes gleaming with sadistic joy and hideous malice.
The notifications faded.
The wall collapsed.
The horde erupted forward like a broken dam.
A deluge of green flesh rushed at Vritra, their snarling maws caught in the dim radiance of the labyrinth’s pulsing stones. The floor vibrated under the weight of thousands of feet, and their thirsty shrieks merged into a singular, bone-chilling roar that made the cavern walls tremble.
Vritra gripped his hilt so hard his knuckles turned white. For a heartbeat, the suffocating killing intent of impending death paralyzed him. However, he knew that freezing would only hasten his end. Even if the struggle was futile, he refused to die without a fight.
Instead of waiting, Vritra lunged into the fray. He pushed aside his disgust and fear; there was no room for hesitation in the face of slaughter.
Putting his full weight into a swing, he met the incoming monsters. His blade sliced through the skull of the lead goblin as if it were soft fruit, spraying his face with hot blood.
Vritra blinked in momentary shock. He hadn't expected his blow to be so devastating against the green devils.
Reflecting on it, he realized he had always held back in the past to avoid seriously injuring others. Here in the labyrinth, his raw specs were significantly higher than these low-level monsters, who were naturally born with inferior stats.
++++++++++++
[You have killed a Level 3 Goblin.]
[+EXP Earned.]
[You have Levelled Up!]
[All Stats Increased by 1.]
[You have gained 1 Allocation Point.]
++++++++++++
There was no luxury of thought or emotion. As another beast pounced, Vritra delivered a heavy kick to its midsection, launching it back into its companions.
"Shit!" he spat as a rusted dagger opened a shallow wound on his forearm. He clenched his teeth against the stinging numbness, refusing to lose his grip on his weapon.
He ignored the minor injury, focusing his entire consciousness on the sea of demons. He was fortunate to have a skill that dampened his perception of pain.
Still, the sheer volume of enemies made a perfect defense impossible. He could only focus on parrying lethal strikes and protecting his vitals.
Vritra pivoted, channeling strength into his legs to decapitate a goblin with a swift arc. A fountain of gore drenched him as he followed up with a kick that pulverized another creature's head.
++++++++++++
[You have killed a Level 4 Goblin.]
[You have killed a Level 2 Goblin.]
[+EXP Earned.]
[You have Levelled Up!]
[All Stats Increased by 1.]
[You have gained 1 Allocation Point.]
++++++++++++
Vritra became a whirlwind of motion. He disregarded the accumulating scratches on his skin. With every swing and every severed limb, a cold fury began to simmer in his chest—rage directed at the monsters trying to devour him and the people who had abandoned him to this fate.
[Activating Dust Attunement.]
By triggering his skill, Vritra manipulated the surrounding particles with minimal mana cost. While the dust couldn't kill directly, he used it to blind the goblins, leaving them vulnerable to his steel.
His sword moved in a lethal dance—slashing, thrusting, and gutting. He slaughtered them in a state of hyper-focus, adrenaline roaring through his system like a fire. Each kill stripped away his lingering mercy and fear, hardening his soul with every drop of blood spilled.
The sticky, warm spray coated his skin, but he was possessed by the rhythm of the massacre.
The tide was relentless. Dozens became hundreds, then thousands. Pyres of corpses began to rise around him, and the ground became a treacherous mire of blood and entrails. A severed hand remained hooked to his boot as he fought on.
In the midst of the carnage, he noticed the fallen monsters dropping various pieces of gear and weapons. However, they looked like low-quality trash, and he had no time to scavenge while being swarmed from every angle.
Vritra kept pushing forward, realizing that staying in one spot would lead to him being buried under a mountain of bodies. He waded deeper into the green sea, his movements becoming more lethal and efficient with every passing second.
++++++++++++
[You have killed a Level 1 Goblin.]
[You have killed a Level 2 Goblin.]
[You have killed a Level 2 Goblin.]
[+EXP Earned.]
++++++++++++
Vritra was gasping for air, his muscles screaming under the strain. He was shivering from a mix of exhaustion and blood loss, a patchwork of red and green gore.
This was his first time taking a life, but the trauma didn't have time to settle before the next wave hit.
He let out a guttural roar—not of terror, but of pure, unadulterated rage. Looking like a demon himself, he drove his sword through a goblin's throat, watching it twitch and choke before ripping the blade out. He narrowly avoided a side-swipe by rolling through the bloody mud.
He rose, caked in filth. A string of intestines was draped over his leg.
Vritra lashed out with a kick, smashing a goblin's head against the stone wall until the skull shattered.
His grip on his sword was iron-clad.
Swirling dust particles continued to orbit him, blinding any foe that got too close. He realized this "trash" skill was actually his greatest asset.
It acted as a secondary sense, allowing him to feel the displacement of air and the movement of the goblins through the particles, granting him the ability to evade strikes he couldn't even see.
He kept the skill active constantly, yet his mana pool barely depleted. His only path to survival was to keep killing and leveling up his strength before the more powerful monsters arrived in the later stages.
Khrrrkkk—sssssshh
A larger, muscular goblin lunged at him, wielding a heavy staff. Vritra knew a direct hit would be catastrophic. He blasted dust into the beast's eyes and shoved a smaller goblin into its path, watching as the minion was crushed by its own comrade's blind swinging.
As the blinded brute roared in confusion, Vritra lunged, driving his sword into the creature's eye socket with everything he had. However, his focus on the large target left his back exposed; a goblin slashed him with a sharpened bone, leaving a deep, bleeding gash.
"Ahhh!" He grunted, leaping away. Even with his pain resistance, the sting was sharp, and his movements were finally beginning to lag due to his battered state.
++++++++++++
[You have killed a Level 4 Goblin.]
[You have killed a Level 6 Goblin.]
[+EXP Earned.]
[You have Levelled Up!]
[You have levelled up!]
[All Stats Increased by 2.]
[You have gained 2 Allocation Points.]
++++++++++++
With a flick of his wrist, a concentrated cloud of dust hit an approaching attacker. As the goblin shrieked and clawed at its eyes, Vritra cut it in two with a savage horizontal strike.
Time lost all meaning.
One hour passed. Then two. Then three.
His limbs were leaden and his lungs burned, but the stream of goblins only seemed to grow thicker.
Through hours of mechanical slaughter, the constant stream of system level-up notifications provided the only fuel for his body, replenishing his strength just enough to keep the massacre going.
Suddenly, a different prompt appeared.
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[Your skill have Levelled Up]
[Dust Manipulation has advanced to Level 2.]
[Dust Attunement have now transformed into 'Dust Convergence'.]
++++++++++++
Vritra didn't have the breath to read it, but he felt a fundamental shift; his command over the particles had become significantly more acute.
GRRIIIIIIIIK-KAAAAAH
Before he could test the new power, a goblin managed to bury a blade in his side.
Vritra howled, severing the attacker’s arm and then its head in a blur of motion. He collapsed to one knee, holding his side while continuing to swing at the legs of those nearby. He was a vision of gore, a mix of his own lifeblood and the green filth of the horde.
The swarm didn't give him a second to breathe. Vritra scrambled behind a mound of corpses, using the wall of flesh as temporary cover.
With shaking fingers, he retrieved an intermediate healing potion. Keeping his eyes on the enemy, he downed a large portion of the vial before stashing it back in his inventory.
The effects were near-instant. His wounds closed and the heavy fatigue in his muscles evaporated. Though his breath was still ragged, his stamina had expanded through his levels, and he was ready to resume the slaughter.
His swings were no longer elegant, but they were terrifyingly precise. Having never touched a sword before today, his movements now mimicked those of a veteran combatant through sheer repetition and survival instinct.
He marched forward through a rising river of green blood. The area was a graveyard of mangled parts, and the air within the Death Canopy was thick with the stench of the fallen and his own murderous intent.
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