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Your wounds heal quickly and leave behind no scars. The nature of [Eternity] is not that of an unchanging idol, but rather a system that swiftly returns to homeostasis no matter how severe the disruption. Your blood does not crawl back into your body, nor have you suddenly reproduced by mitosis for having so much of yourself suspended in the water. With your magic at a mere 100, it takes your body near an hour to restore itself fully, though in theory you could have picked yourself back up after mere moments.
In theory.
In practice, your stamina takes much longer to restore than your wounds. With the adrenaline and arousal that kept you fighting swiftly fleeing your system, exhaustion hits you harder than any of the goblins managed to do. Your eyes drift closed into the abyss of sleep so that your body can recover all of the energy that it spent.
>Calculating Experience Gains
>Current Experience: 4,493,830
>Experience to Next Level: 3000
>You are eligible to Level Up!
>Level Up Now?
<span class="mu-s"><span class="mu-r">No.</span></span>
>Current experience is 4,493,830/3000
>You may level up when ready
Experience is derived from the challenge rating calculated by the mechanisms behind the enforcement of Astral Law. Nothing within the Astral Law says that one <span class="mu-i">must</span> level up when they reach the threshold, and if a force of over twenty thousand goblins could not give you the defeat you so very much desire, leveling up now would make that dream even more difficult to reach.
So you postpone the spoils of your victory, and allow yourself to sleep off your weariness rather than benefit from the sudden boost of life and energy that a level up would grant you. You dream of all the torture and degradation those goblins would have inflicted upon you had they been successful in pinning you down with their nigh-insurmountable numbers. The smile you wear in your sleep is absolutely serene.
When you wake up, a blade is pressed against your throat by a man who must be after your own heart.
He glares down at you as if looking at a particularly unpleasant worm. There is no admiration in his eyes for your jade like beauty, nor the smooth curves of your naked body, nor even the flawless perfection of your milk-white skin. It is as though his eyes have pierced through to your true nature, a perverted pig-sow who gained too much power as she pursued her wretched hobbies, her desire to taste the seed of every monster and be degraded by rough beasts. Your heart flutters as his mouth opens, for surely he's about to call you a pig-so-
"What are you?" he growls, pressing the blade tight enough against your throat that your nethers cannot help but get a little excited. "[True Status] calls you Level 1, but there's no way that can be right. A Level 1 doesn't walk into the Marmorton Undercity and survive to see another day... let alone create a pile of goblin corpses that large. Those animals would have just had another breeding slave in their pens."
You look to the side and mutter, "If onl-"
