Isabelle Rider
level 0.
Strength: 2
Dexterity: 7
Constitution: 1
Intelligence: 6
Wisdom: 6
Charisma: 8
Titles
2nd to last . . . it’s better than last, trust me
Skills
Basic powered Shot
(This skill needs to be activated.)
Bell blinked at the glowing text floating in front of her, her breath still catching from the effort of the shot. The goblin’s hissing death rattle still echoed in her ears. But it was gone now—nothing left but a smear of black-green goo dissolving into the concrete like it had never existed.
She stared.
“Congratulations, Isabelle Rider…” she read aloud, voice uncertain, “…you are the fourth to kill a Dungeon Defender on planet Earth?”
Tarni whooped beside her, practically vibrating with excitement. “Oi! That means you’re in! Properly in! Look at you, Bell bloody Rider!”
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Zane grinned, stepping forward. “Told you. One kill. That’s all it takes.”
Bell’s eyes scanned the floating screen again, slower this time. “Second to last… it’s better than last, trust me,” she repeated, raising a brow. “That’s a title?”
“It’s a System title,” Tarni said, slapping his thigh. “You’d be amazed how petty it is. Mine’s ‘Well, you were almost first.’ Bloody thing’s got a sense of humour.”
Bell didn’t smile. She looked tired again. Not the bone-deep exhaustion of cancer, but the mental kind—like she'd just walked through something she couldn’t explain and wasn’t sure she wanted to.
Her gaze dropped to the numbers now hovering at the bottom of her vision:
Level 0
Strength: 2
Dexterity: 3
Constitution: 1
Intelligence: 6
Wisdom: 6
Charisma: 8
She made a face. “So… what, I’m smart and charming, but can’t open a jam jar or climb a ladder?”
Zane chuckled. “Pretty much.”
“Oi, don’t knock it,” Tarni said. “My wisdom started at two.”
All three of them stopped and stared at him.
Tarni took a step back, a pout forming on his face as he tried to defend himself. “Well, fu—Goblin snot. It’s five now.”
They all laughed.
After catching her breath, Bell folded her arms, still eyeing the stats. “And ‘Basic Powered Shot.’ That’s my skill?”
“Looks like it,” Zane nodded. “It’ll probably let you charge up ranged attacks. Might work with the spear gun—or anything similar.”
Bell’s gaze drifted toward the fishing spear gun now resting in the dirt, its string still vibrating faintly. “So now what? I get to become some post-apocalyptic sniper?”
“You get to live,” Zane said softly.
That quieted them all for a moment.
Bell reached up and swiped her hand through the lingering screen. It didn’t vanish.
After watching her swipe a few more times, Tarni said, “You’ve just gotta think at the message to move it or close it. For some reason, the only time you can use your hands is when you're spending XP.”
“I still think this is crazy,” she said. “But I’m in now, yeah?”
“You’re in,” Tarni said, grinning wide.
Bell looked at him flatly. “And you’re still swearing.”
Tarni threw his hands up. “I said ‘hairy goblin balls.’ That’s biology, not profanity.”
She arched a brow.
“I’m working on it,” he mumbled.
Bell sat down slowly on the edge of a fallen log, taking it all in—the fading light, the cicadas starting to hum.
“I don’t know what’s next,” she said.
Zane stepped beside her. “None of us do. But we’re figuring it out.”
Bell nodded slowly, her fingers brushing the spear gun beside her. “Then let’s start figuring.”
Before Zane could bring out the Minor health Potion as she sat on the small bench inside the shed, Kai quietly stepped up and rested a hand on his mother’s shoulder.
“Healing Touch,” he murmured.
A faint green glow bloomed around his hand. Bell nearly jumped up from the bench as she felt the warmth spread through her chest and limbs, like the sun chasing out the cold.
She gasped. “What was that?”
Kai smiled. “Just a little something I got for making my first kill.”
Bell blinked again, twice this time. “Bloody hell,” she whispered, voice catching in her throat. “This is real.”
