I Acquire Overpowered Traits Just By Taking Damage

Compared to how the torture had started to how it had progressed, there was an immense reduction in pain. At first, it was overwhelming, suffering of nightmarish level—the sort of misery that would make a person forget himself. The sort of suffering I had now experienced twice.

After the new traits, it went down to familiar levels. With the pain dulled, what looked like a massacre with all the visible blood and injury felt like the regular beatings I got in the manor. That was not to say it had become comfortable. Far from it. I still felt like crying if I could. But I had learned early I didn't have that privilege.

Still, I was now able to think. With my hands still covering my head and my body curled up like a poked centipede, I tried opening my eyes.

I caught sight of the carpet of dried leaves, the few strands of grass poking out, and the many sets of goblin legs. No sign of the sword that escaped my hand as soon as I fell. I looked lower and found it nearer than I thought. I saw the hilt right below me, with a good portion of the blade pinned under the weight of my curled-up legs.

Whack!

As soon as my hand moved away from covering my head to retrieve the sword, I got repeatedly pummeled around the temple. I hissed and instinctively pulled my hand back.

Even though most of the damage had been dulled, it was the sheer volume. I was being pounded by tens of frenzied goblins, confused and likely more infuriated that I was not getting reduced into a lifeless pulp.

I made the more reasonable choice of using the hand beneath my head to retrieve the sword. As soon as it separated from my body, the same hand got targeted, which immediately broke my arm and deformed some fingers.

I let out a groan of pain and frustration.

The sheer volume of hits effectively immobilized me from doing anything other than endure the assault. I doubted they would stop anytime soon. Worse, they might stop hitting and start taking bites out of my flesh. I wondered how my traits would handle bits of me being eaten.

Would [Edgecallous] recognize being bitten by rotten greenskin teeth as a bladed attack? Would [Rapid Clotting] be useless since it wouldn't be just cuts and scrapes but entire portions of flesh being taken out? How would [Adaptive Regeneration] even work if bits of me were inside my attacker's stomach?

The blue sheet of light popped up. At first I thought it merely appeared to answer my questions about the traits. But it wasn't the list that appeared—it was the third trait I had gotten from all the beating.

[Trait Acquired: Kinetic Rebound]

[Condition Met: Sustained blunt or piercing damage to the same area within a short time frame while under immediate attack from multiple attackers]

[Effect: 20% of the physical force taken is instantly redirected outward in the opposite direction of the incoming attack. Works on melee and ranged.]

All the traits I had gotten so far only made me more resilient against damage, while doing nothing to the causes of damage. But this time something new happened.

The strikes from the greenskins rapidly decreased in frequency. I heard the creatures let out surprised squeaks and pained grunts.

With the waning attack, I managed to break out of my defensive curl and rose to my knees. A couple of hits landed to rebuke my attempt. I angrily responded by lifting the sword and wildly swinging it low.

There were so many of them around me that I drew blood. With my own eyes, I saw the sword cleanly cut through a leg, deeply slash another, and chop off two fingers from a greenskin who didn't move its hand fast enough.

They hit me again, and I wildly swung again, this time higher and more confident. I killed my first greenskins—lopping off the entire upper body of the first one hit, slicing shoulder up with the second, before finally decapitating the last victim of the swing.

With the deaths, the greenskins gave me some distance.

After spending what seemed like hours pinned on the ground, I was finally able to rise to my feet.

I hissed through my teeth, both because I'd had enough, and also because my injuries were still healing. My hasty rise from the forest floor flared up some still-mending joints, bones, and muscles.

Surrounding me, a lot quieter now and watching with apprehension—but still in intimidating numbers—were my greenskin attackers. Their aesthetically offensive appearance still disturbed me, but I was past getting afraid.

I had been beaten enough. Time to return the favor.

Even after what they did to me, they were the first to resume hostilities.

A greenskin charged from my left flank holding a rusty short sword at its side. It was easily evadable, but my still-healing knee flared up when I started to move.

The sword hit my side. It didn't go deep, but it was still groan-inducing.

I hadn't read the description of my newest trait, but it had to be the one responsible for the odd thing that happened next.

The blade wobbled upon contact. The creature's grip on the sword immediately weakened, and it slipped from its hands. It was as if it had stabbed against stone.

I grinned.

I pivoted at the disarmed attacker; the lack of knee pain meant the healing had done its work. My blade sliced its head in half as it bent to pick up the sword. Brain matter flew in the air, riding the swing, and drops of pungent warm blood hit my face.

I didn't have the chance to be disgusted.

The rest of the horde swarmed me.

I gritted my teeth and met the wave head-on. I got pierced, stabbed, and slashed again, but this time not without retribution.

I swung away in wild abandon. Sir Roland would probably disapprove of the lack of skill, but the blade was still sharp even in inexperienced hands.

The greenskins had no armor. And unlike me, no healing—and they could die. Every swing killed one or two of the cretins. There was no need to aim, since they were in every direction, feeding themselves to the sword.

The amount of greenskin blood that was getting on me was suffocating. But I was used to being suffocated.

I didn't stop. I stormed through what more pain they could inflict. And soon it was a rhythm. The squeaks and squeals were the notes. The swish and clang of the sword, the beat.

I saw the moment their morale broke. The moment they realized their prey had turned predator.

It began with one greenskin falling to the ground before I nicked it with one of my swings. It stood up again, only to scamper away. Slowly, others followed suit, and soon I had a rout in my hands.

I watched them disappear into the bushes and trees, just as disorganized as when they had charged.

One minute I was in the midst of messy battle, the next, I was alone in the silence of the woods. Hearing the birds and the rustle of leaves again after what had been a while.

I shook my head. I huffed. Then chuckled.

If it weren't for all the blood and the corpses, it would seem like nothing had happened at all.

I walked over to a nearby greenskin corpse, and in a fit of rage, started beating it with my sword. The repetitive slashes to the midsection slowly turned the flesh into a slimy substance of green and red.

"Is this what you want!" I paused to scream at the sky, beyond the canopy of trees. "Do you want to make me suffer, to break me… just for your entertainment?"

The gods must be having a laugh. But why play the jest on me?

I resumed beating the corpse until I saw movement from somewhere.

I promptly halted and looked into the trees. Not a goblin.

It was a man wearing battered armor, carrying a bloody axe and a face dark in utter horror.

"Oh hi, Edmund..." was all I could say.