100\% Drop Rate: My Special Ability is Perfect Replication

"Greg!" Zen yelled, retreating behind the giant boy. "You’re turn."

Everyone formed a tight circle. Greg began to glow a calm blue. The purple emanating from the walls and ground of the temple pressed against him. The air popped loudly and grew hot. Greg groaned like he had taken a physical blow. He was shifted back by an invisible weight.

His shield had the ability that allows him to take magical damage for others and convert it to physical damage.

In front of them, the flames cleared up. Faust’s initial fire ball was ineffective. The Kobold Elites walked from it snarling. The shifting blood runes on their brown fur shifted eerily. The monsters drew weapons, well made iron unlike the cruder weapons their kin used.

But before they could charge Faust extended his hand.

Instance Replication!

BOOM!

The air shook. Fire reignited from nothing. In an instant the Kobold Elite were blasted back by roaring flames.

Faust grinned wildly. He replicated the explosion against their shield earlier. But instead of tasting ash on the burning air, he saw them scattered and badly burnt.

They lived. The runes adorning their fur provided them more strength, resilience against magic, and regeneration. And they were already the best of their race before. From what Faust had watched on the streams of course. These guys were tough.

He twirled his dagger, an excited smile lit up his features. The black stone under his feet cracked as he pressed into the ground. But before he could dash forward, a hand grabbed his shoulder.

"That’s not your job," Zen reminded Faust. There was no mirth in his voice. His grip was hard. "I get you wanting to fight, but remember your deal with Gamebreaker. Get to the Gate generator, kill the chief if you can. And if you can’t just set the bomb, so we can get out."

They faced each other for a moment. Zen stood his ground. Faust nodded quickly, his smile returning.

"It’s called a Gap Generator," Faust corrected.

"Asshole." Zen pushed him away and drew back on his bow. An arrow made of water formed. Murmuring under his breath, "trying to scare me like that."

Shadow of the Mind.

[Error. Spatial wards reject your skill.]

Of course they have that. I’ll have to run.

Nirvana pulled closer and whispered, "If you need help against that thing, I’m here."

But Faust shrugged her off and continued. The tunnel was darker and dryer than the main hall. There was nothing, but a straight road for almost ten minutes, but he used Dash, Growth and Instance Replication to make it three.

He saw the Origin Wyrm hiding in the shadows this time with Observe, ducking out of the way as it attacked. The air whistled under the force of its blow. The tentacle smelled like blood and putrid death.

Gagging, he jumped to the side and stretched out a hand.

Fireball!

The room was illuminated in one moment, revealing the dreadful flesh worm hiding in the shadows, and the huge Kobold Chief.

The Wyrm shielded its master with its massive body, allowing the flame to barely even singe its pale flesh. Its resistance to magic was startling. Even worse was its grand size. It was almost ten feet long and six feet wide.

A rattling hiss escaped the beast. It bared its rows of razor sharp teeth at Faust. Tentacles lashed from its body like vines, whipping around violently. Each hit crushed stone. Each roar burnt fear into his heart.

Faust shot forward regardless. The cool trickle of fear was drowned out by the excitement burning in his chest. He laughed as the tentacle came down on him like shadowy whips.

SHING!

CLANG!

He blocked and slashed. Weaved and jumped. Each attack was a blur, but Faust was faster. Severed flesh thumped against the stone, but the tentacles regenerated with terrific speed.

Cracks spread across the walls from the violent battle. Both from the monster’s crushing blows, but also from Faust just moving.

Each of his leaps at full strength crushed the earth beneath him. Each time his cutlass swung, the air screamed from the deadly force.

Dash!

He tore across space in an instance and slashed the Origin Wyrm across the chest. Luminescent blood spurted over him. It was grey with trickles of bright colors.

That’s so disgusting.... But that was my thirteenth strike.

He replicated his dash and got behind it in an instant, dodging a slashing tentacle. He needed to kill the Chief first. The Kobold Chief snarled at him and lunged at him while barking what sounded like an order.

Faust parried the Chief’s Iron Cutlass with his own. On instinct, he used another skill.

Shadow of the Mind!

The Wyrm raised it eyeless head and roared once again. The sound shook the world. The air bent away like a mirage. Reality itself groaned under the monster’s voice. The Kobold Chief blurred in Faust’s eyes. It raised his cutlass and he saw three different flashes of steel.

Dash!

He used his seventy percent Dash to retreat, shaking his head. His back hit the wall. No more backing up. He avoided the pain of the mental attack. But whatever type of Eldritch creature the Origin Wyrm was, had powers that affected the world itself.

The chief’s cutlass clang against stone, but its black eyes followed Faust to his new location. The beast was almost eight feet tall and still fast as hell.

It resembled a bone-thin man covered in brown fur with the head of a dog. Steel armor adorned its body and a helmet carved from the skull of another Kobold covered its face.

The chief before him, probably.

The Wyrm and its master moved at once. Tentacles slithered on the sides, aiming to stop Faust from escaping while the Kobold Chief approached from the front.

The thought of them trapping him was funny. Despite his enjoyment of this battle, Faust had to end this quickly. His nine teammates in the main hall were strong, but against almost twenty Elite Kobolds even giants fell.

He replicated his Dash and slashed his dagger over the Chief’s neck. His body snapped across reality, reaching the chief before it got to him. Combat experience was all that allowed the chief to respond. Faust’s dagger met the chief’s cutlass. The Kobold snarled at him and raised its clawed left.

Fourteen strikes.

Faust slashed the hand back with his cutlass, almost severing it completely. He slammed a knee into the beast’s belly at the same. The kobold gagged, folding down.

Thank god that didn’t count...

"You’re the weak link here," Faust said with a wicked smile.