Salt Golems Don't Give EXP

The honeybee, struck by chopsticks packed with slaughter energy, staggered in midair as if wracked with pain before spewing a massive torrent of flame straight at me.

I took that wide-ranging blast head-on with nowhere left to dodge, yet only a mild heat wave washed over me. Realizing it had missed, I burst out laughing on the spot.

The difference between flame and chopsticks? The flame was broad but a single hit. The chopsticks had missed—then rolled the attack judgment all over again and punched straight through that fifty-percent chance!

I freshly understood that the reality patch meant a missed attack never simply vanished, and I raised slaughter energy into my right hand. Red slaughter energy mimicking spiritual power flickered with an ominous shimmer, following the shape of my hand while writhing as if it wanted nothing more than to kill any living thing right that second. I swung my right hand and flung it at the honeybee.

"What the fuck?"

A grotesque red claw like a demon's grip seized the honeybee in one go and tried to crush it flat—yet no damage registered at all. Only slaughter energy was wasted for nothing.

Even after eating the reality patch, it still showed exactly why it carried that immovable tier-one prefix. I felt the weight of that power all over again and poured out more slaughter energy.

And the words "famous and picky prefix" meant only one thing to a gamer: a target waiting to be solved. It had been fully figured out ages ago.

The counter to the Dazzling prefix was sustained DoT.

Spamming wide-area or single-target skills was pointless when half of them missed and the resistance from a tier-one prefix was sky-high. The proper clear was simply to fry it with continuous damage.

Dozens of hands stretched out from a cloud-like mass of slaughter energy and lunged at the honeybee, trying to tear pieces of its body apart—yet half of those hands only sliced empty air.

Which meant the other half had landed.

In an instant the honeybee's body was a wreck. Heat surged even hotter from it, shifting from simple bright-yellow flame toward something nearly blue. I smiled inwardly and opened my mouth.

"Auto-Battle."

Once more than half its health was gone, even an elite named monster couldn't throw up Meaningless Combat!

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Whoa, purple!"

Epic gear!

And it was an accessory—an earring, no less.

An accessory with a tier-one prefix!

Equipment with the Dazzling prefix raised hit rate on weapons, evasion on armor, and on accessories it granted accuracy—the higher-tier option above hit rate. The exact number was random, of course, but at epic grade the accuracy value was vaguely high. High enough that the rare accessory I was wearing for the HP boost could go straight into the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠inventory. Decent loot by any measure.

"Lucky break."

"Fuck, never mind."

I knew the good rolls had been quiet lately.

Permanent stat loss? It was basically the same as dropping three levels in an instant. And because it wouldn't recover unless a good event eventually showed up, it was even more of a pain in the ass.

"Ugh."

I sighed and spent three full days racing around the map before I could finally visit the places revealed by terrain scouting. Even then I skipped the instance dungeons and the spots so far out on the edge that the route was ridiculous.

I had reached Foundation Establishment, but without a mount or any movement arts my travel speed was still garbage. On top of that the reality patch had made every single map disgustingly huge.

"Not a single movement skill. This is just sad."

Me, a pure walker! A pure walker with zero movement skills!

Being a scrub without a skill window was bad, but being a pure walker with no movement skills was even sadder. Even when I was grinding the ironman achievement of clearing the ending on passives alone, I had still covered movement with artifacts—no, Dharma Treasures.

"The missing skill window really hits hard."

One key-tap flooding the whole screen with flashy ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠effects had been a mod, sure, but if skills had existed at all it would have been insanely convenient. Other functions were locked, unusable, or missing a condition or a screw somewhere, yet you could still tell they existed. Only the skill window had been flatly declared nonexistent.

"Let's see… next maps are…"

"A valley, a cave, and a mountain."

The previous maps had been nothing but three mountains, so this was at least a little more variety. But among the open maps, the only village or castle marker still faintly visible one tile over on the minimap—where NPCs gathered—was still the old Gangso Castle. And if I wanted to go around the previous Stone Mountain map, I would have to circle through a full four maps.

Not that going back would let me enter anyway.

Attacking a neutral NPC had already raised hostility, and after that I had cleared the Samjong Sect map until my evil reputation hit maximum, so hostility had only climbed higher.

"In that case…"

"Ptooey."

The moment I stepped in, the warning window popped and I slammed region transfer again at full power. Whatever was lurking in that mountain, it threw a warning the second I arrived and made a whole scene.

At my level—nearly two hundred—a warning only appeared when the level gap was more than double. That meant something at least Golden Core was sitting in there.

At least Cheonun Valley and Yeomju Cave weren't that far off. Cheonun Valley was a bit lower-level, Yeomju Cave roughly my own range.

"The safe pick would be Cheonun Valley, but…"

Killing things below your level tanked both drop rates and experience gain unless it was a dungeon, so I chose Yeomju Cave, where the levels matched mine.

In the end I still hadn't found a rare lower-body piece for my level and was stuck with magic-grade equipment bonuses. That decided it.

"No region penalty!"

True to the name Yeomju—Salt Pillar—the cave was packed with glittering salt columns, and the air was thick with the briny, fishy reek of the sea.

"Achoo!"

The salt pillars kept the cave bright enough to see clearly and the minimap opened wide. I sneezed and waved a hand at the salt-laden wind, but this worthless spiritual power wearing a slaughter-energy mask was completely useless for defense or convenience.

"Sniff… fuck."

I realized the salt pillars were laced with spiritual power, so even the salt riding the wind acted like a kind of technique—ordinary salt wind that still affected a cultivator's body. The environment was pure garbage and I was ready to leave the region and head for Cheonun Valley instead.

"…?"

I tilted my head hard enough for a question mark to float up, and only then did my eyes catch the minimap in the corner of my vision. A single red dot I had never noticed before was sitting there.

And no matter how I looked at it, that red dot was right on the nearest salt pillar.

That was a mob?

Non-living. A monster that wasn't alive.

No experience.

"Fuck?"

I flinched and tried region transfer again, but once I was on the minimap it had already registered me. More red dots kept multiplying to match the salt pillars in my field of view, and I had no choice but to give up.

Combat state was already active, and you couldn't region-transfer during combat. Looks like I was stuck clearing Yeomju Cave after all.

Salt dolls—golems?—burst out of the pillars and charged me. I clenched my teeth, hauled up slaughter energy, and formed red chopsticks of pure slaughter in both hands.

Auto-Battle on non-living trash that already gave garbage experience would only burn slaughter energy for nothing, so I had to fight them head-on.

"Motherfucker."

I spat curses at the event message that popped like a cheap shot and jammed the slaughter chopsticks into a salt doll, detonating the energy inside until it crumbled.

"Look at that pathetic scrap of experience, for real!"

As a gamer it made my gut twist.

With this much slaughter energy spent, even if I terrain-scouted the entire map the best luck would only keep me even. If a misfortune event hit, the overspend would drop me a level for sure.

"GROOOOAR!"

"Shut up!"

A salt giant rose, bulkier and denser, white salt crystals jutting from its entire body. If these had been constructs made by some other cultivator like the earlier dolls, they might have been easier to kill.

These were natural spirits born from sea wind mixed with salt and spiritual power—something halfway between spirit beasts and monsters.

Monsters with literally no weakness unless you crushed them whole or blasted away the spiritual power that moved the salt.

They weren't living creatures. They had no emotions. Kill them and experience—slaughter energy—was actually consumed instead. A miracle exchange rate of pure bullshit!

"Fuck, I killed an elite and…!"

Slaughter energy had been shredded and only common trash dropped.

In a map that forced this nightmarish consumption I swallowed my tears, wiped every nearby monster marked on the minimap to finish the terrain scouting, and went back to the volcano.

"I lost levels…"

Even dying in a dungeon only cost ten percent experience. Just now, killing a handful of normals and one elite had burned more than thirty percent.

And these weren't even dungeon mobs—they were field trash!

At this point…

"I'm going to Cheonun Valley."