《The Silver Mana - Book 1: Initiate》 Prologue I felt my right foot slipping down the wet limestone. Desperately, I dug my fingers into a crack in the cliff, trying to keep myself from losing my tenuous hold. Cold sweat started to form on my body as I realized the danger I was in. My left foot was in a slightly awkward position, not offering much support. With my right foot sliding off, most of the weight was supported by my fingers, and I could feel the finger tendons strain to hold my weight. Pressing myself against the face of the cliff, I managed to keep myself from sliding further. But now I was stuck in a precarious balance ¨C any twitch or cramp in my muscles and I was going down. And then it happened. The dirt under my right foot was moving. It was not much, just a few loose stones that had accumulated on top of the tiny ledge over the years. But it was enough, given my shaky hold. I screamed while tumbling from the wall. Flailing around wildly, I approached the ground at incredible speed. Branches whipped my face and body, as I crashed into a tree, and the world disappeared into a haze of red and white and pain. ¡°Fuck,¡± I woke up, covered in cold, clammy sweat, just like the sweat I had experienced that fateful day. Not that I could feel it on the rest of my body¡­ but the sheen of sweat on my face and neck meant that I had soaked through my PJs. Not a new experience either, as I have had these nightmares frequently since my accident four years ago. It was not always the same nightmare, as some of the details had become a bit hazy, but it usually ended the same way ¨C crashing into the ground at high speed and experiencing that incredible pain. I had been nineteen at the time, going to college on a Division I soccer scholarship. Fit, brash, and cocky, as perhaps many college guys are ¨C something about hormones and being the first time out from underneath the parents¡¯ thumbs. After a couple of days of partying, my buddies and I decided on a whim on that ill-fated climbing trip in the Adirondacks, even though they don¡¯t have particularly high cliffs there ¨C mostly you can do bouldering or climb some smallish cliffs. Nothing to write about. But therein was the danger¡­ at least for someone slightly intoxicated - we had filched a couple of beers from a gas station while the attendant was in the restroom. My buddies were bragging about how they could climb any cliff, faster and better than the rest of us. Just a typical stupid-ass pissing contest. And I felt the need to prove myself. Such a fucking idiot. I have never been good with people, and so I always felt the need to impress other people so that they would accept me, want to be my friends and whatnot. And so, I said that I was going to free climb that cliff. ¡°No fucking way,¡± one of my friends had hollered. ¡°You are insane.¡± I still remembered that. Half-way up the cliff, I deeply regretted my bravado. And for the next few years, I would curse myself for the idiot I had been. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. Even though the height of the cliff was nothing to brag about, the fall was enough to break my spine at the neck and leave me completely paralyzed, without any feeling from my neck down. A quadriplegic is what they call it. I remember being conscious when they brought me into the hospital and the grave expression on the faces of the doctors. They told my parents that my chances were slim to none. For survival, that is. They gave me a 0.1 percent chance. Not only did I break my spine, but I also had bones sticking out of various parts of my body, a heavy concussion, internal bleeding, and numerous other injuries. But I have always been a fighter. If someone says, ¡°You won¡¯t make it¡±... I try extra hard. I have always been like that. Stubborn to a fault. If I really care about something I doggedly pursue it until I achieve my goals. That is what got me that far in soccer. They said that I had a great shot at making it to the MLS and perhaps later to one of the big European clubs. The American Pele, perhaps. And I bought all that crap. Hubris, perhaps, but also the result of having too many bad people around me - sycophants, manipulative assholes, and users. But after the accident that was a moot point anyway. It was clear that I was not going to play soccer any time soon. It was all about survival, and I was determined to prove the doctors wrong and survive. And I did. Perhaps I was just lucky, but I think that it was my dogged determination. I endured all the treatments and did whatever the doctors recommended and then some. After numerous surgeries, and many months of treatment, I was finally able to get back home, albeit as a quadriplegic. Before the accident, life had been good, but things changed after I became disabled. First, my girlfriend left me. Saying something like that she was too young to take care of me for the rest of her life and that we had not been that serious anyway. Even though I could rationally understand her decision, it still hurt like a bitch. At the very least, she could have waited a bit before breaking the news. Way to kick someone when they are already down. Some of my so-called friends never even made it to the hospital. Others did stick with me for a while, but gradually lost interest in hanging out. Not that I could blame them really. The first couple of years after the accident, I was often in a foul mood, and no-one likes listening to a whiner. And who wants to push around a dude in a wheelchair for fun? I guess I should have offered to come with them to the bars so that they could pick up chicks¡­ some girls really like a guy that takes care of a person in need. Shows that they are caring guys, prime husband material, or whatever. Then again, my college buddies would probably rather run away than getting into the whole husband material situation. For that matter, most college girls weren¡¯t really into the husband thing either... so probably the entire ¡°plan¡± did not make any sense anyway. Not that I proposed it, because, hey, even though I needed someone to clean my butt a couple of times a day I still had my pride. After a couple of years drifting around and getting more and more depressed, I finally realized that I needed to change something. I used to be focused on mostly physical activities to spend my free time, ranging from soccer to volleyball, basketball, tennis, swimming, hiking, and camping all the way to reenactment, including swordsmanship. Not that I was great in all of them, but I did enjoy them quite a bit. I also liked reading, but mostly for pleasure or for things that were directly related to my hobbies, like historical accounts of medieval battles or weaponry. Now, I decided it was time to study something difficult that not everyone could do and thus prove to myself that I was still worth something. Partially inspired by Stephen Hawking, who had achieved amazing success despite being a quadriplegic as well, albeit due to sickness, I ended up enrolling in college with a major in physics. I also took a minor in history, because, well, history is cool. Pretty useless as a minor in conjunction with physics, perhaps, but I was beyond caring about practical or not at that point. Chances were that I was not going to get a job later anyway. Studying was a challenge, but one I embraced. Of course, many things I could not do on my own. I needed help from professional caregivers - Annie, Debbie, and Sue were the lucky nurses. Annie was easily my favorite because she was caring, funny, and yet a no-nonsense person. She did not take shit from me and was able to dish it out as she got it. Chapter 1 – The Transfer After five straining hours of studying, my eyes were burning, and I had started developing a major headache. I needed to do something different, anything but those damned differential equations¡­ ¡°Annie, can you switch on the news for a bit? I want to see what happened to that place in Texas...¡± Annie, my nurse for the week, walked over to the TV and switched through channels until she found one that discussed current events in the US. As expected, the story of the day was on Sweetwater, a rather unremarkable city of roughly ten thousand people in the middle of Texas. A couple of days earlier, all phone connections to the area had been suddenly disrupted, and satellite images showed a big black blob instead of farmland and the small-sized city. Immediately, conspiracy theories cropped up, ranging from the fantastic to the absolutely ludicrous. Of course, reputable scientists in addition to various federal agencies and hundreds of reporters also investigated the area, coming up with their own theories and speculations, but none dared to enter the roiling cloud of sinister-looking darkness that covered an area of about 2500 square miles. As I watched the live images on TV, I suddenly noticed streaks of green shooting through the cloud, like green lightning, and then the churning of the cloud started to slow down. With apparent apprehension, the camera crews and reporters at the scene began to provide live commentary on what they were seeing. ¡°And it a bit of breaking news, the black cloud that has covered Sweetwater is starting to recede. We are live at the scene, recording for our viewers as things happen,¡± a somewhat scared-looking brunette woman in a dress suit said into the camera while shooting nervous glances at the black cloud behind her. ¡°It seems as if we will finally gain some further insights into what has happened to this town of ten thousand souls, right in the heart of Texas. It seems as if¡­ oh my god, the cloud is gone!¡± The camera view switched from the reporter to a view of the area. And indeed, where there had been a black cloud for the last couple of days, now there was a giant crater. Or perhaps it was not a crater, because instead of an elevated rim around the impact area, there was a 20-yard drop from the edge of where the black cloud used to be, and then perfectly even ground extending horizontally for as far as the eye could see. I blended out the excited jabbering of the reporters and turned to Annie. ¡°I don¡¯t think that they are going to find out more right now. They¡¯ll have to make sure that the ground is stable and that the cloud is not coming back before they will dare to send someone in there. I¡¯d be curious to see satellite images though, but they won¡¯t share those that fast either.¡± ¡°My God, I wonder what happened to those poor people!¡± Annie sighed. ¡°You¡¯re right, though, there¡¯s nothing that we will learn right now so we might as well go for our daily walk, don¡¯t you think?¡± ¡°Aww, do we have to? I hate this area. It is full of mosquitos, and most of the paths are basically useless for someone in a wheelchair. I¡¯m tired of the same old trip around the lake!¡± I was pretty mad at my parents for making me come up to Lake Placid for some ¡®nice¡¯ vacation in the middle of nature. I was sure they meant well, but seriously, what was I supposed to do here? They probably thought I still had friends in town, since we had lived here for a bit. Or maybe they hoped that the beautiful nature would cheer me up and conjure fond memories. Alas, the memories were less than fond, as all it did was remind me of that ill-fated climbing trip in the area. And regarding friends... well, suffice to say that not many people want to hang out with a quadriplegic. Even worse, some of the local guys actually made fun of me when they saw me, despite Annie standing up for me. At least they had not pulled any physical pranks on me, but I didn¡¯t think it was beyond them. To top it all off, there was currently a biker gang in town. Hell¡¯s Devils or some such, clearly a knockoff of the Hell¡¯s Angels. But, knockoff or not, they looked like pretty rough guys. Most of them were huge, shoulders like a bear, long beard, tattoos of snakes, dragons, anchors, and naked women. The whole shebang. And most of them looked dangerous, like a gang member or ghetto-tough ¨C the type that wouldn¡¯t hesitate to stick a knife into a pregnant girl and have a good time doing so.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. The Hell¡¯s Devils were looking for trouble and had already started a few brawls in the local bars, beating up the local ¡®tough¡¯ kids. They also had a few women with them, but it seemed they were mostly the typical biker woman - a bit worn out, sitting behind their ¡®man¡¯ on the bike, laughing too much about their own raunchy jokes in one of those raucous, rasping voices that indicate too much screaming and smoking. Not that I had a prejudice against the bikers, not at all. I mean, perhaps a little bit. I had never liked bikers when I had still been healthy, but now that I was disabled, I felt actually threatened by them. Not like the retirees that ride into the sunset with their buddies type of bikers¡­ I don¡¯t mind those. No, the ones that hoard weapons and cause trouble wherever they go. This group, for instance, displayed many swastikas and when I had passed them the previous day, I could hear a couple of the guys mumble something about putting all the cripples into gas chambers. Annie snorted: ¡°Quit whining, you little sissy. It is great weather outside. It¡¯s going to be good for you and your mood. It really is quite beautiful here.¡± ¡°The weather can kiss my ass,¡± I grumbled, but dutifully allowed her to push me out of the house. The cheerful optimism and positivity were things I really appreciated about Annie, and so, despite my personal misgivings, I allowed her to frequently drag me into social or natural activities, even though I would have rather stayed in the house whining about all the terrible things in the world. The bed and breakfast we stayed in initially had not been wheelchair accessible, so the owner put down a ramp specifically for me so that Annie could easily push my wheelchair in and out of the house. I was just going down that ramp, when suddenly there was a sharp crack, like a thunderclap, scaring the shit out of me. ¡°What the hell happened?¡± I shouted, my voice breaking as I tried to calm down. Before she could say anything, and she was likely going to admonish me for using the word ¡®hell,¡¯ the ground started to shake violently. I could see trees swaying wildly, some of them toppling, and cracks appeared in the houses around us. The ramp suddenly jerked to the side, and my wheelchair started falling over. Suddenly everything went black, weirdly enough before I even felt any pain from face-planting on the concrete. And despite me not seeing anything, I felt quite alert and conscious. What had just happened? This was seriously freaking me out. I was terribly scared of going blind. That would be the last straw. Quadriplegic and blind are a terrible combination. Not that either one individually is great. Before I had the chance to fall into even more panic, a sultry female voice said: ¡°Welcome to Minara! You are now part of the selection process. Before we complete your transfer, we will determine your individual physical and mental specifications.¡± ¡°What the heck is going on? Who are you? What happened to me? Where is Annie? Annie! Can anyone hear me?¡± Alas, there was no response. Suddenly, I was in a room, laying on a flat surface inside of what looked very much like a cat scan machine, only that it was made out of some kind of marble-like stone instead of metal. And instead of a smooth surface, as one would find in a regular hospital, there were runes etched into the ¡®machine.¡¯ After a short moment, the stone started emitting a low humming noise, and the runes began to glow in a bright green light. Initially, the light was contained inside of the runes, but once all the runes were filled with it, a matrix-like pattern started to emerge and separated from the stone, drifting towards my body. I braced myself for pain, but all the light did was seep somehow inside of my body. After perhaps a couple of minutes, the light started to dim and eventually left. Then, a different set of runes around my head started lighting up with a more purple glow, but instead of a blanket of soft light, concentrated rays of purple light shot towards my head and this I definitely could feel. It was as if something was digging around my brain, a feeling that left me nauseated and feeling violated at the same time. At least it finished as fast as it had begun and once the purple rays had disappeared a blue box popped up in front of me. It took me a few moments to recover from the intrusion into my brain and realize that I could actually read what was in the blue box.
Congratulations! We have assessed your physical and mental attributes.
Strength: Error ¨C &$^#* Intuitive Reasoning: 14
Agility: Error ¨C &$^#* Complex Reasoning: 17
Speed: Error ¨C &$^#* Emotional Intelligence: 9
Dexterity: Error ¨C &$^#* Perception: 13
Endurance: 1 Spatial Awareness: 20
Vitality: 5 Willpower: 20
Chapter 2 – Stuck in Limbo What. The. Fuck? I bit my lip. The box was still there. Was this a joke? If so, it was a bad one. The situation reeked a bit of experimental treatments and hospitals, and I had had enough of that for a lifetime. But no, for a joke it was just a bit too elaborate. So perhaps this was just a weird dream. Biting myself had hurt, but I could have dreamt that it was hurting. Or, if not a dream, it might be some hallucinations or brain injury from falling on my head. Given that I vividly remembered the ground coming straight toward my face after falling off that ramp, the idea of having some weird brain stuff going on seemed the most likely. But then again, why would I imagine being in a sort of game-like situation? I mean, those stats did very much remind me of the roleplaying games I had played as a teenager. And the purple scan digging through my brain sure had felt real and not something that I really could have imagined in as many vivid details. Or was I in a medically induced coma and doctors were doing brain surgery on me, which my subconsciousness interpreted as a weird-ass magic-flavored brain scan? If so, there was nothing I could do. And if not¡­ well, not sure what I was supposed to do if this was something different, something real. It was, frankly, too bizarre to consider the implications. Aliens? A parallel universe? A magical veil parting to connect our world to a world of magic? Or my essence being transferred into a video game? That all sounded like a steaming pile of bullshit. As much as I had always loved my fantasy books and games, I was a realist through and through. That said¡­ I had read enough litrpg books and stories in which the hero was transferred to a different world to at least entertain the hypothetical question on what I would do in such a case. Not that there was all that much I could do, stuck in some limbo with a weird scanning machine. But at least I could check out the surrounding, play along for the time being, just in case there was something more to it than hallucinations. Hedging my risks, or whatever. Looking more closely at the stats for the first time, I chuckled a bit when I noticed that one-third of them had error messages. I was not sure how the scan worked, but probably it assessed muscle mass, muscle density, and muscle type, and the nervous system of the body¡­ which in my case all were almost non-existent right now, at least compared to other people. Sitting for four years in a wheelchair and not moving anything below the neck on your own volition will do that for you. Maybe I should have cursed seeing those stats, but I kinda liked how it messed with the system. Whoever had programmed that thing, or magicked it, whichever the case was, probably had never considered encountering someone like me. At least, my mental stats were overall reasonably good, with complex reasoning, spatial awareness, and willpower the clear standouts. Or at least much higher than the physical stats. Since I had no comparison point, I had no idea what a value of twenty represented. Was it like the top one percent? Or the top ten? I felt confident that I was ranking closer to the top five percent, but then again, I had never done a brain scan of other people. How do you measure willpower anyway? Weird stuff. But what was up with the low emotional intelligence? Was I that bad? I mean, I had plenty of friends and all¡­ well, I used to, I guess. Now, almost all my friends were online, like in chat rooms and games like Eve Online ¨C stuff I could play using a special controller. My online buddies were friendly enough, though. Not judgmental and all, like most people in real life. Most people could not take my sometimes-acerbic humor. Fuck, I guess, maybe the score was just about right. But whatever, they could all go to hell for all I cared. Everyone but Annie, I suppose. And Goldie, my goldfish. Stupid name¡­ I could still crack up on that one. I had called the fish that way, just to mess with people a bit. And everyone tried to give me grieve about it, failing to realize that it was precisely what I had wanted to provoke. I turned my head to see if there was anything else around the room that could give me some additional hints of what was going on, but nothing stood out. Weirdly enough, the blue box with the stats followed my eyes as I turned my head. Initially, I had thought that the blue box was some type of hologram, which presumably would make it steady somewhere in space. But, since it was moving, it meant that either it was not a hologram, or it was directly sent into my eyes, by some type of mobile projector. I tried closing my eyes and was startled when I could still see the blue box. So perhaps it was somehow transmitted directly into my head? Suddenly, the sultry female voice from the first few moments spoke again. ¡°Your probability of survival is estimated at .001 percent; transfer procedure is aborted.¡± ¡°What? Wait a moment! What does that mean?¡± I shouted.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Alas, there was no response. In the meantime, the room started to lose shape and became a vortex of colors that was swirling around my head, first slowly, then faster and faster. At first, I could make out some images of the room I had been in, but then those images were replaced by memories from throughout my life. The time I had been building a sandcastle with my best buddy when I was five; my mother crying tears of joy when my father came back from a long trip overseas; going out with my first girlfriend; my accident; and many more. The swirling images made me nauseous. They moved too fast. And they evoked some memories that were better forgotten. First, I screamed, then I shouted for help. In the end, I started to beg. But I was alone. No one was going to rescue me. I was afraid that I was going to be stuck here for eternity, reliving the memories of my twenty-something years of life. Over and over. Talk about a personal hell. And then I could see a giant vortex in the distance. Colors flashed, images flickered in and out. There were random sounds, almost like avant-guard music mixed with noise from a construction site. In between, there was screeching, wailing, and happy laughter. The whirlwind of images that was me slowly approached the giant vortex, and only now, I could appreciate how gigantic this vortex truly was. I was like a pebble compared to the moon. What I considered to be just one giant vortex, was actually a million, no a billion or more, little whirlwinds intersecting each other, dissolving and then reforming, ripping each other apart, joining, separating - a random, chaotic process, without a discernible pattern. Which made me realize that I was not even sure how I could see. I mean, was I here physically? I did not have any arms or hands. All I had were memories, images of happy and sad events, boring, and tragic situations in my life. Yet I was able to perceive my surrounding somehow. It was not without effort though - it required a mental resolve to see what was going on rather than drifting along in the shifting pattern of the movements of the vortex. It felt comparable to being in a crowd of people and keeping tabs on your surrounding and the crowd dynamics. Or being on the soccer pitch, pressured by opponents, yet still able to make out that winger running forward, ready to receive the deadly deep pass. Suddenly a blue box popped up.
You are in the Netherworld, the world of lost souls. Your superior spatial awareness allows you to ¡°see¡± your surrounding. Due to the successful use of your skill in a new and challenging surrounding your spatial awareness increased. Spatial awareness +1
Skill gains? Seriously? This was a gamer¡¯s wet dream come true. Fucking weird. This really started looking like one of those litrpg books that I had been reading on and off. Was this some type of virtual reality then? If so, where was my virtual body? Or was this some sort of avant-garde indie game? And what about a special power, some unique ability that allowed me to blaze through this bizarre world? Spatial awareness my ass! Subconsciousness and the potential of suppressed memories notwithstanding, by now I was pretty sure that I was not dealing with a dream, even though it was sufficiently surreal to be one - it was too real, too personal and detailed to be a dream. All the images of my life ¡­ most of those I had not thought about for fifteen or even twenty years. And if it was not a dream¡­ then I needed to do something about that giant vortex because it looked like seriously bad news. As I got closer to the vortex, images began to shoot across the vast space toward the whirlwind of memories that constituted ¡®me¡¯. And those images showed all kinds of snapshots, or snippets, of weird scenes: Giant frog creatures hopping around in a swamp; antlike creatures in armor and some type of gun; short, humanoid creatures with enormous shoulders and giant hammers on their shoulders; a blazing sun, three times the size of earth¡¯s sun together with a strange star constellation; a little garden gnome-like creature that carefully poured multicolored liquids into various glass containers; a girl closing her eyes and leaning in for a kiss; a child crying; storms; fires; smells. It went on and on. And these images became part of my own memories, making me wonder whether I had experienced those things, even though, clearly, I could not have. It was the most surreal feeling I had ever experienced. I instinctively felt that if I allowed all these images to become part of my memories, I would lose my own identity. My hunch was that this is what was happening in that giant vortex with all the smaller whirlwinds. An endless series of creation and destruction of identities, each with a vast number of disjointed and fragmented memories, presumably of millions, if not billions, of lost souls. Just as lost as I was about to become. Unless I did something about it. I focused my mind on the memories that seemed too foreign and tried to forcefully expel them. I focused first on one of the more bizarre ones in which I was fighting a giant lizard-like creature by swinging a huge ax around. As I reasoned with my subconscious, that this could not possibly have happened to me, the image slowly grew faint and eventually disappeared altogether. Success! Sadly, it was way too slow. In the time it had taken me to eliminate one image from my mind, at least twenty or thirty new images had arrived. This approach was a losing proposition. First, I had to insulate myself against any future intrusion of foreign memories and images. But how? My first attempt was to simply move my identity away from the giant vortex. Increased distance, I reasoned, would reduce the number of memories that would threaten me. And I tried. But how do you do that if you don¡¯t have feet? I imagined some force pushing my little vortex in a different direction, but it is hard to push a spinning object. I could feel that I actually succeeded in exerting some force, but my vortex was too slippery. It would just glide around whatever force I used to push it. I could momentarily move it in a different direction, but then whatever point I was exerting mental pressure on already pointed in the complete opposite direction due to the rapid rotation. My second attempt was to protect my identity with an impenetrable barrier that enveloped me on all sides, a barrier of pure thought, of willpower, determination. The essence of my identity put up as protection against any foreign influence. My desires, wishes, fears. My sense of humor, empathy, hate. My self-perception. My confidence. My weaknesses. My looks, good and bad. All of these went into the barrier that was me - the essential characteristics that made me what and who I was. And it worked. The foreign memories bounced off the barrier without being able to penetrate my core being. And finally, I was able to focus on eliminating the hundreds or thousands of images and memories that felt alien to me. Chapter 3 - Core I It was hard to simultaneously keep the barrier up and destroy the foreign memories - more than once, I briefly lost control over the mental wall, and new images entered my core being. But I quickly reestablished control and doggedly went about eliminating what did not belong to me. In the middle of the process, suddenly a new blue box popped up, momentarily distracting me and leading to another 100 or more memories entering my core.
You have learned the skill Multitasking. While many people believe themselves to be good at multitasking, usually they are fooling themselves and simply do everything worse. You are the rare exception. While not perfect, you can do multiple things at once, without a significant decrease in quality for any one activity, given that the activities don¡¯t require too much cognitive power. Higher levels allow for increased difficulty and number of tasks to be done simultaneously. Multitasking Level 1
That was actually quite useful as a skill. Not sure what the point of the box was, though. I mean, it was kind of obvious that I had just done some successful multitasking. I did not really need anyone telling me about it. Even less in a weird blue box. But I guess it served as a confirmation that I had improved in some way, that this was not just a fluke. After what felt like an eternity, I eliminated the last foreign memory and image. The moment I was done, two blue boxes opened up.
You have learned the skill Mental Fortitude. You have learned to control and focus your mental energy to such a high degree that you now have a chance to detect and eliminate foreign intrusion into your brain. Mental Fortitude Level 1
You have learned the skill Mental Ward. You have learned to use your mental energy to ward your core being from mental intrusion. Mental Ward Level 1
That was nice. But still fucking useless. I was myself again and able to ward off all those alien memories, but still drifting close and closer to that giant vortex. And even if I was, hypothetically, able to ward off memories inside that giant maelstrom, where would I go from there? Drift around in a small bubble of personal memories for eternity? Fuck that, I¡¯d rather die. But I could not even do that. Granted, I could lose myself in all those other memories, but then what? Would I have some type of disjointed, fragmented persona that was everyone and no one at the same time? I shuddered at the thought. Before I could get even more worked up, suddenly a face floated into my vision. It was beautiful, with slightly slanted eyes, high cheekbones, and a perfectly shaped, somewhat aquiline nose. And it was androgynous, which, together with the perfectly white skin, made it look artificial. It floated closer, and I braced my mental ward for impact. However, the impact never happened. The face floated through my ward as if it was not even there. Once inside, it opened the mouth and started speaking to me in a flat, monotonous voice. ¡°Daniel Hollander, you have done what no one else has ever has done before. You gain the title: Mental Bastion. Your new survival chance is estimated at one percent. You will be transferred using surplus soul energy. Choice of core mandatory.¡± ¡°Huh?¡± I eloquently responded. While I understood all the words the face just had said, I was flabbergasted about what was going on. Mental Bastion? What soul energy? Who decided on this? And what about those cores? What was that all about? ¡°Please choose a core,¡± the face said. ¡°What?¡± Was all I managed to ask. ¡°Please choose a core,¡± the face repeated. ¡°What is a core? And what are my choices?¡± I shouted, desperate for some information. ¡°A core aligns your body with a particular type of mana. This allows the body to grow stronger, and you may learn how to use the mana in various internal and external applications. The existing types of cores are White, Yellow, Amber, Red, Green, Blue, Turquoise, Grey, Black, Silver, Gold, where all but Silver and Gold are available for you to choose from.¡± ¡°What do the colors represent?¡± In response, a blue box opened up.
Core Type Base Function/Affinity
White Air
Yellow Electricity
Amber Healing
Red Fire
Green Nature, Earth
Blue Ice
Turquoise Water
PurpleUnauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Psychic, Mental
Grey Stone, Metal
Black Shadow
Silver Synergy
Gold Divine
¡°Transfer procedure initiated. You have 10 seconds to choose your core type. Otherwise, you will be assigned a core randomly. Ten, nine, ¡­¡± With those words, I could see the different types of cores lighten up within the face. It was almost like a self-service kind of cafeteria, only that here, instead of a pastry, I had to choose a core that most likely was going to significantly determine how the rest of my life was going to play out. Assuming that I was not hallucinating or dreaming all of this up. I tried touching the silver and gold core, but there seemed to be a barrier in front of them. As I looked through the options available, I could feel the pressure mounting to make a choice. Many of these were tempting. It was rather unclear of course what they actually would allow you to do. The information on that was rather sparse or cryptic ¨C strengthen your body was straightforward but using mana for internal and external applications¡­ less so. Take fire. Could I light a fire from a one-yard distance? While cute, it did not seem particularly useful. Could I perhaps create a fireball and toss it at monsters 50 yards away? Not particularly valuable for a civilized society, but at least it had the coolness factor going. Based on what I could see, it seemed that amber was a good choice because anything that used the word healing was another chance for me to get out of the wheelchair. But air was not bad either. I mean, maybe it would allow me to fly! Shadow sounded sinister, so I was not sure what to think of that. Divine was really juicy but unfortunately prohibited. I flipped back and forth between the choices, and the countdown reached 1 second. And I decided that I was not going to be denied. Or rather, that I would try to go for it. With the given information, I simply did not have enough of a basis to make a good decision, in which case I might as well get a random core. But the fact that the gold and silver core were prohibited indicated to me that just maybe they were more powerful. Clearly, the word divine implied that much. Synergy was less informative in that sense. I figured that the face was in my personal space, my personal core. So just maybe, I could take what I wanted and hope for the best. I did not have enough time to consider all the pros and cons and the undeniable risks and just followed my gut feeling. I imagined my will to form a massive sledgehammer, and with all my mental power and determination, I slammed the hammer into the barrier that protected the golden core. In the last split second, the face realized what I was trying to do and managed to turn slightly sideways. This caused the hammer to slip off the gold core barrier and slam instead into the barrier to the silver core. At first, nothing happened, and I mentally resigned myself to a random core, but then the barrier cracked and split into hundreds of little shards. I could feel my being dissolved into particles and with a last-ditch effort, I mentally grabbed the silver core and pulled it into myself. The next thing I saw was blackness, only disturbed by the occasional green lightning. Gradually the darkness receded. With a pop, the last part of the gloom disappeared, and I found myself laying facedown and stunned on the concrete floor next to the ramp and my wheelchair. My head was hurting, and, the way it felt, my nose was probably broken. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth as I was trying to find my bearings. -------Annie-------- Annie stumbled and almost fell. She felt a bit nauseous and was still bewildered by what had just happened. What on earth had all that been about? One moment she was preparing to for a nice walk with Daniel, and the next thing she knew, she was in a weird room with¡­ a voice? Annie shook her head, trying to make sense of it all. Only¡­ it just was too bizarre. Characteristic scores for strength, dexterity, and several other things she had already forgotten about? And then that talk about her affinity toward healing and how she was going to have an amber core¡­ That part made even less sense to her, but at least amber was a beautiful color, one of her favorites in fact. For whatever that was worth. Annie chuckled at herself. The most likely explanation was some sort of hallucination. Why she would hallucinate was a bit unclear, but maybe the mushrooms at lunch had been poisonous¡­ there should be some type of reasonable and rational explanation after all. Or Daniel had spiked her drink. Now Annie had to giggle out loud. Daniel was a good guy, unlike those creeps in Hollywood. And, of course, he was physically incapa-. Before she could finish her thoughts, she suddenly remembered the shaking earth and seeing Daniel¡¯s wheelchair tipping over. She whirled around, and there he was, face down on the concrete floor, moaning, with blood slowly pooling around his head. The wheelchair was on its side next to the ramp, one of the wheels still spinning. ¡°Daniel!¡± she shouted frantically. She jumped off the ramp and rushed to him, carefully turning him over. It was unlikely that he had suffered internal injury from a fall like that, but she had seen enough freak accident to exclude that possibility outright. With a sigh of relief, she realized that he seemed mostly unharmed, apart from a busted lip, some bruises, and cuts around the face and what looked like a broken nose. ¡°Daniel, talk to me,¡± she said in an insistent, yet calm voice. ¡°Where are you hurt?¡± Groaning, Daniel mumbled something incoherent. With a concerned look on her face, Annie touched Daniel¡¯s head, feeling for bruises or broken bones. Touching the broken nose, elicited a wince from Daniel and some clarity returned to his eyes. ¡°Seems you are fine,¡± Annie said reassuringly. ¡°No broken skull¡­ your head is harder than the concrete, it seems.¡± ¡°Next time, catch yourself, will you?¡± She chuckled. ¡°Not good for your face.¡± While Daniel sputtered, looking for a response, Annie put the wheelchair upright and then grabbed him under his arms in a tight hug to lift him back into his wheelchair. Immediately, Daniel squealed like a pig, clearly audible, despite her chest pressed against his bloody mouth. Annie instantly released the hold on Daniel and stepped back, with a concerned look in her eyes. ¡°What happened, Daniel? Any pain? Did I touch your nose?¡± ¡°The leg! The fucking leg hurts so badly,¡± Daniel sobbed, lib quivering. ¡°Which leg? What is it? I don¡¯t see anything.¡± Annie bent down and examined his legs, sliding her hand up and down to see if there was any broken bone. Suddenly, Annie looked up. ¡°Wait, how can you even feel anything?¡± Daniel¡¯s face immediately changed from the rictus of pain and suffering to a mischievous grin, only marred by a quick wince when his teeth touched his busted lip. ¡°Never said it was my leg¡­ I just thought that pulling YOUR leg so hard might hurt.¡± Annie stared at Daniel for a few seconds before laughing out loud. ¡°You are quite something, Daniel. You really got me there. Well played. But don¡¯t do that again, ok?¡± ¡°Sure, sure,¡± Daniel responded. ¡°Now lift me up to the wheelchair, will you? I kinda like how you are doing that.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure you do, pervert,¡± Annie immediately retorted while bending down to lift him up. She wiggled her chest around a bit. ¡°You like the feel, huh?¡± ¡°Nah, I just like the artsy red markings all over you,¡± Daniel responded with a deadpan expression, once he was safely sitting in his chair again. ¡°Aww, shit,¡± Annie complained after looking down and noticing the red smears all over her top. ¡°That was my favorite tank top.¡± ¡°You should have taken it off,¡± Daniel offered helpfully. ¡°Right, in your dreams, mister,¡± Annie responded, smiling slightly. Daniel was a nice guy, even if a bit awkward socially sometimes. And he used to be good looking too, based on the pictures she had seen of him from a few years back ¨C about six feet tall, fit, runner¡¯s legs brown hair, warm, green-brown eyes, with a sparkle of amber in them. Obviously, he still had those eyes, and Annie thought they were quite attractive. As was his humor, misplaced as it was at times. You just had to ¡®get¡¯ him. Of course, his body had atrophied over the years, but that was no surprise. Four years in a wheelchair will do that to anyone. Bantering aside, Annie could tell that Daniel was in pain. She knew the expression on his face. Gently, she put her hands on Daniel¡¯s face and tried to somehow stem the bleeding from the nose and make him more comfortable. As she did, she could feel warm energy amassing in her chest, rush down her arms towards her hands, and seep out into Daniel¡¯s face. Annie was absolutely shocked by the unexpected and weird feeling. And then, suddenly, the small gashes in Daniel¡¯s face, including the busted lip, started disappearing. In front of her disbelieving eyes, the skin knitting together until all that was left were a couple of small scabs. Even his broken nose looked a tad better than mere moments ago. Frozen in disbelief, Annie just stood there and stared. Chapter 4 - Beginnings ¡°Thanks, Annie,¡± I mumbled, careful to not further hurt my busted lip. Which was when I realized that they weren¡¯t hurting nearly as much any longer as just a few moments earlier. What the heck? I had always loved the feel when Annie had been touching my face, but this timeit had beendifferent - I had felt a comforting warmth coming from her hands, similar to the warmth radiated by a fireplace on a cold winter night. And within seconds, my head and face had started feeling a lot better, like a bunch of Ibuprofen kicking in - suddenly, all the pain had felt muted and began fading away. ¡°Annie,¡­ what, I mean¡­ how did you do that? That felt amazing!¡± Annie just stared blankly at me and didn¡¯t respond at all. In fact, she looked almost shell-shocked. ¡°Hey, Annie! Are you ok?¡± I shouted. Annie shook herself and then answered in a small and frightened voice: ¡°Daniel, I have no idea what is going on.¡± After a short moment to collect herself, she continued. ¡°Honestly, I¡¯m freaked out. Let me get you inside the house first, and then I see if I can do something about your nose. I also should check to see if other people need my help¡­ there was some type of earthquake, I guess.¡± The bed-and-breakfast didn¡¯t show any apparent signs of earthquake damage, so we felt safe enough going back inside. Annie pushed the wheelchair into the dining area and then looked at me hesitantly. ¡°Daniel, I don¡¯t know what I just did out there. It felt right and exhilarating, like nothing I have ever felt before. But¡­ I¡¯m not sure I can do it again. And, to be honest, I¡¯m not sure I want to do this again. It feels alien to me. Like, that is not really me, you know?¡±. I smiled encouragingly at Annie and responded: ¡°I understand, Annie. But think about what you just did! I mean, whatever it was, you just healed my injuries in what, like five seconds? Can you seriously walk away from that and not even try again?¡± Annie looked at me with an uncertain expression on her face. ¡°Just give it a shot,¡± I continued. ¡°In the worst case, nothing will happen, and we chalk it up to some weird miracle¡­ but if not¡­ think about the good you can do with that type of skill. Just try to remember what you did the first time and replicate that.¡± Reluctantly, Annie stepped toward me and put her hands on my face. This time I tried to watch closely what she was doing. At first, nothing unusual happened, or perhaps I just couldn¡¯t see anything special. I focused harder, willing myself to notice even minute changes in either one of us. And abruptly, a crisp clarity flooded into my eyes, as if I had been suffering from blurry vision, and it all cleared up in an instant. As Annie got a look of intense concentration on her face, I could suddenly see a slightly diffuse amber nimbus, like a soft orange cloud around her arms and hands. It was slowly pulsating, and with every pulse, I could feel my nose slowly straightening. Initially, the process was intensely painful, but then the pain quickly receded, and I felt better than I had in a good long while. The moment Annie took off her hands, the amber light also dissipated. ¡°Holy shit, Annie, you did it again!¡± Annie gave me a reluctant smile. ¡°Daniel, I don¡¯t know¡­ I¡­ what is going on? What am I doi-¡­.¡± Suddenly she stopped talking and just stared at me weirdly. ¡°Daniel? What happened to your eyes?¡± ¡°What do you mean? What is wrong with my eyes?¡± ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m not sure. Just a moment ago they were glowing in an almost silvery light. It is gone now, though. Perhaps I just imagined it¡­?¡± ¡°Sorry, Annie, I¡¯m not sure,¡± I responded. ¡°I didn¡¯t feel anything special. Wait, did you say silver?¡± Annie nodded and smiled weakly at me. ¡°Yeah, probably I just imagined it.¡± Her smile seemed a bit fragile as if she had a hard time coping with the situation. And I understood her. This was¡­ magic. It had to be. Either that or some weird high-tech nano bullshit that resembled magic. Obviously, something had happened to us, perhaps just Annie and me, but it was too soon to tell. The room with the CAT scan, the voice, the listing of stats, and maybe even the images and memories. And Annie had gotten some pretty fantastic ability out of it that made me instantly jealous ¨C I wanted that kind of skill! Just to further underline the weirdness of the situation and our new reality, a blue box suddenly popped up in my view, just like those that I had seen in the Netherworld.
You have learned the spell Mana Vision. Whereas most people can only see the effects of mana and the charge of runes, you can actually see mana itself. The ease with which you can see mana depends on the density of mana you are trying to see, its distance from you, and your level in mana vision. Mana Vision Level 1
After I had read the message, it slowly started fading from view. Could I do that manually as well? What if I was in an emergency and suddenly a box popped up in my vision¡­ could I get rid of it? Perhaps it was as simple as commanding it to go, either verbally or mentally. And how about seeing the message? Could I take another look, or was one peek all I got? ¡®Message,¡¯ I mentally commanded. But nothing happened. So how about being more specific? ¡®Mana vision,¡¯ I mentally requested, imagining a blue box, just as what I had seen a few moments earlier. And, lo and behold, the blue box popped up in my vision, this time containing only a description of the spell. Well, that was useful, even if odd. It was almost as if we were in a big computer in which we could call up files. Or perhaps, not a big computer, but some type of virtual reality. Or a weird-ass fantasy world in which stuff like that happened, just like in the litrpg books I had read. Turning back to Annie, I noticed that she was a bit shaky. More so than I had ever seen her before. She apparently took all the weirdness a lot harder than I did. Which came as no surprise. After all, I had vicariously, and imaginary experienced living in a fantasy world with fantastic skills and magic for many years of my life. During my time as a quadriplegic, reading fantasy books was one of my few outs that I could do mostly independently, thanks to voice-activated e-readers that enabled me to flip pages by myself.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Not knowing what else to do, I tried distracting her. ¡°Annie, I could see the energy moving down your arms into me. That was amazing!¡± Annie looked at me, startled. ¡°You could see that? I couldn¡¯t see anything. I just felt the warmth go down my arms toward you! What exactly did you see?¡± I started describing what I had observed, but Annie interrupted me excitedly when I mentioned the amber color. ¡°This is what the voice mentioned! It said that I had received an amber core and that it would provide me with an affinity for healing! Did something like that happen to you as well? What color do you have? What does it do?¡± ¡°Well, my experience was a bit different,¡± I said and explained to her what had happened to me. Seeing how amazing Annie¡¯s ability was, I felt a bit bummed that I had not taken the amber core. Then a thought struck my mind. ¡°Annie, do you think you can heal me with your ability?¡± Annie looked at me, quizzically. ¡°That is what I just did!¡± ¡°No, I mean, like completely heal me. Make me able to walk again!¡± I clarified. ¡°Oh my god, I didn¡¯t even think about that¡± Annie shouted enthusiastically. ¡°That would be the best thing ever!¡± She immediately put her hands on my neck, and I could see from the corner of my eyes the amber color rushing down her arm and into my body. Warmth suffused my neck and head, giving me the feeling of an endorphin high. Sadly, it was entirely localized and didn¡¯t extend to the lower part of my body, despite wisps of amber mana visibly dancing over the skin of my chest, arms, and legs. I felt deflated. For a moment, I had had my hopes up high, after seeing the incredible power of this skill, but I guess I shouldn¡¯t have. Nerve damage was probably a lot more complicated than minor bruises and cuts and even a broken nose. If things indeed followed some kind of gaming convention, then Annie¡¯s skill for healing was probably at a rather basic level. But the fact that this magical healing was possible in the first place gave me hope for the future. ¡°Don¡¯t sweat it, Annie. Perhaps you will be able to help me at some point, once you have fully mastered your new abilities. Do you have a spell level?¡± ¡°How did you know? I had this weird blue box pop up and tell me that I had level 1 in Lay Hands. I have no idea what that means. Gosh, this is all so bizarre.¡± Annie started to laugh hysterically, and I was worried that she would have some kind of nervous breakdown. Which wouldn¡¯t be surprising. I guess, given the circumstances, one would consider that even a relatively normal reaction. I mean, most people believe that ¡®magic¡¯ is only done by charlatans. To suddenly be able to do it yourself should be a profound shock to the weltanschauung of most people. And some people don¡¯t react well to such shocks. At least Annie didn¡¯t bang her head on the floor or ran away screaming. Eventually, Annie calmed down. So what if she had some weird spells and abilities, and blue boxes popping up in her vision ¨C make the best of it and move on, was her credo. Pragmatic and awesome¡­ that was Annie! While Annie went out to see if she could help some other people, I decided to find out whether I had managed to get the silver core in time, and if so, what its impact was. I really didn¡¯t know what to expect, given the rather general term ¡®synergy¡¯ that was provided to me by that weird talking head. So the question was how to go about figuring out what I could do. Presumably, I couldn¡¯t cast any healing magic, but just to make sure, I tried copying what Annie had done. I focused on my hands and arms and willed them to glow with the amber, diffuse light that I had seen on Annie. Alas, nothing happened. Maybe it was a matter of intent? Or need? After all, Annie had been concerned about my well-being, so perhaps that was instrumental for how this worked. Several minutes later, I had to give up, somewhat frustrated despite not having expected any success in the first place. So the questions remained¡­ what could I do? Or had I messed up and ended up without any abilities at all? Just the thought made me wince. ¡°I wished there was a goddamn wiki or a character sheet,¡± I mumbled despondently, only to barely suppress a startled shout when immediately a blue table popped into my brain.
Name Daniel Hollander Rank Unranked
Title: Mental Bastion
Strength: 0 Intuitive Reasoning: 14 Mana
Agility: 0 Complex Reasoning: 17 Silver 10/10
Speed: 0 Knowledge: 14
Dexterity: 0 Perception: 13
Endurance: 1 Spatial Awareness: 21
Vitality: 5 Willpower: 20
Available characteristic points: 0
Spells
Mana Vision Level 1
Available spell points: 0
Skills
Mental Ward Level 1 Mental Fortitude Level 1
Multitasking Level 1
Available skill points: 0
What. The. Fuck. Seriously? Some weird, talking face, fine. Magic-like abilities¡­ a stretch, but maybe some fancy science or perhaps indeed magic, whatever. But a freaking character sheet? With a numerical value for mana? At least there were no hit points because that would have been even weirder. But then again, I guessed vitality was a type of proxy for that. I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. So much for being able to accept this weird new reality more easily than Annie. I had to chuckle about myself a bit. So what else did I learn from that character sheet? I only had a single, doggone spell! Great! So, to summarize¡­ presumably, some people, perhaps everyone, had magic. And they could do some cool stuff ¨C at least Annie could. Apparently, I had mana¡­ but my only spell allowed me to see mana! How was I supposed to do anything with that? Perhaps no biggie for someone that could do physical stuff, but for me, magic was like the only chance to actually do something amazing with my life. Maybe an impressive list of skills might have consoled me, but I had like a grand-total off three skills, and one spell and they were a bit lackluster if I was honest. What was the point of being able to see mana? Enjoy the show? Play the peeping tom of watching magic currents? Probably I had cast the spell instinctively when Annie had been healing me, and that had caused my eyes to start shining with a silvery light. So at least that explained that mystery. And, admittedly, silver shining eyes were probably kind of badass looking, but this couldn¡¯t be it, right? There had to be a reason why silver mana was prohibited, but so far, I failed to see that reason. In fact, it felt as if I had missed a major opportunity. Not only did I potentially upset a powerful entity by taking a core that was restricted, but also did I not seem to have gained anything valuable out of it. Chapter 5 – Getting Organized After what seemed like an eternity, Annie finally returned and with her came a few other people. Some of them had minor injuries, but, by and large, everyone seemed to be in decent shape. In fact, most of them looked somehow more vibrant than I had previously seen them ¨C they had a visible bounce to their step as if they had too much suppressed energy that needed release. Mike, one of the local guys that regularly frequented the gym, always had seemed a bit lethargic as if exhausted from his frequent workouts or just way too laid-back. But now he almost exuded energy, and his impressive biceps danced up and down his arm. ¡°What happened to you, Mike?¡± I asked. ¡°Did you quaff a few energy drinks? You look rather¡­ energetic!¡± Mike just shrugged and said: ¡°Beats me. I was working out when suddenly, things were shaking. Next thing I knew, I was in this weird room and saw a list of values and such. No idea what that even meant. Almost looked like those stupid D&D games my friends are playing, you know?¡± I nodded encouragingly. ¡°Anyway,¡± Mike continued after hesitating briefly, ¡°at the end, this voice said that I had a physical focus and that they were giving me a green core that would support that. And then I¡¯m back in the gym, ass on the floor. And you know what? I had been exhausted before ¨C I had just done like five sets of twenty full power reps on each machine. But once I got off my butt, I felt like I could do another ten sets on each machine, no problem!¡± ¡°Mike! Quit smoking weed,¡± a slightly older guy said in a rather judgmental voice. ¡°What voice are you talking about? Or are you claiming that it was like the voice of God or the angels?¡± ¡°Shut up, Bruce,¡± Mike said, somewhat defensively. ¡°I didn¡¯t smoke no weed. You know me, I wouldn¡¯t do that, right?¡± He looked imploringly at the others. ¡°I believe you, Mike,¡± one of the women in the group chipped in. ¡°In fact, I had a somewhat similar experience, except that I got a white core instead of green. Since then, I have felt more energetic too. I feel like I could run the mile in under four minutes!¡± Bruce scoffed. ¡°Faster than the world record? Right.¡± ¡°Bruce, why don¡¯t you shov-¡° ¡°Guys, calm down!¡± Annie interrupted the argument before it could get out of hand. ¡°I¡¯m not the problem,¡± Mike mumbled. ¡°He is just a sanctimon-¡° ¡°Mike, stop it!¡± Annie said more forcefully this time. ¡°And you as well, Bruce. ¡± ¡°Who are you?¡± Bruce asked with a somewhat annoyed expression on his face, turning toward Annie. ¡°Did anyone make you the leader? You aren¡¯t even from around here, are you? And you are a woman!¡± ¡°Good observation, Bruce. I¡¯m indeed a woman, well done,¡± Annie responded with a deadpan face. ¡°What gave it away?¡± The rest of the group sniggered at the expense of Bruce, who didn¡¯t take it kindly. With a red face, he turned around and stomped away. And no one looked terribly upset about it either. That is what I loved about Annie. In case, I had not mentioned it before. She was just a tough, no-nonsense lady. Despite having been thrust into a situation that was entirely out of her comfort zone, she had already taken charge of things and got rid of a troublemaker without any real fighting. ¡°So what about the rest of you?¡± Annie asked. ¡°Did anyone else have a similar experience?¡± One after another, the other people shared their experience ¨C and they were eerily similar, apart from people getting different cores. The more I listened to the experiences of the other people, the more unhappy and jealous I got. It was just amazing to see how Bobby could conjure a small flame on top of his hand, and Betsy could create some water out of nowhere to extinguish it. Paul was able to create a little spark of electricity, Mike was stronger, and Amy was faster. And the list just went on. ¡°This is such bullshit,¡± I grumbled to myself, turning my head away. I even got some tears of frustration in my eyes from feeling even more impotent than usual. If only I had picked some different core¡­ And then it suddenly struck me how quiet it was. Sure, people were talking, and there was the wailing of some other people in the distance - according to Annie all children and old people were gone, and clearly, they were missed dearly. I suspected that this happened because they didn¡¯t have sufficient stats to support a transfer, just as it had almost happened in my case.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. But beyond those sounds, there was just none of that usual noise clatter. I looked around and noticed that no cars were moving, no motorcycles, no TVs or radios blaring, not even a cell phone conversation going on in the background. While usually, those noises are somewhat annoying, the sudden complete absence of any was quite surreal and a little bit scary. ¡°Has anyone called police, firefighters or ambulance? Why aren¡¯t any of those around yet?¡± I asked. Mike shrugged and pulled out his cell phone. ¡°My phone is dead,¡± he said. A few of the other people in the group tried as well, but no one could get their cell phones to work ¡ª the same thing for digital watches and whatever other electronic gadgets people had on them. ¡°What is going on?¡± Amy, one of the incredibly fit-looking triathlete girls in the group, said in a trembling voice. ¡°Maybe some type of EMP blast?¡± Mike proposed in a somewhat dubious tone. ¡°That does not explain all those magic-like abilities,¡± I immediately retorted in a somewhat condescending tone, which I regretted right away ¨C I really was not in the position to piss anyone off. ¡°Well, I know¡­ but do you have a better explanation, Mister smarty-pants?¡± Reluctantly, I shook my head. None of what I had studied in my physics classes and the books I had read would explain those weird abilities. People in our group spent the next twenty minutes trying all kinds of things to see what else had changed. It turned out that everything based on electrical power was dead. Moreover, slow chemical reactions, like fires and such, still seemed to work, but anything that involved a more rapid expansion of gases, such as shooting a gun or operating a motor, somehow didn¡¯t function the way it used to. There was still a reaction, but it was slowed down to such a degree that it rendered guns and cars utterly useless. Which may have explained why no messages got in, and there were no airplanes, helicopters, or police coming in to investigate - either they would get stuck entering the area, or they would be in the same boat as our group, if this was a nationwide or global event. While everyone was running around, testing electronics, guns, and various basic laws of physics, I was just sitting in the living room of the bed and breakfast feeling sorry for myself. First, I obviously had picked the wrong mana, and now it turned out that all the conveniences of our modern life were going to go away. I didn''t think most people realized the implications of what was going on. No power meant no cars to get from one place to another. There were no horses around, so the only thing available from now on was bikes, feet, and one stupid wheelchair with me stuck in it. Even worse, there were limited supplies of food and clean water, and once those ran out, from where would we get our meals? We could, of course, start farming, but that would take a while, and it was going to be backbreaking work to get everything going without tractors and harvesters and such. No microwaves or ovens meant we would have to start cooking our meals on fires. While that was doable in the summer, albeit inconvenient, it was going to be a pain in the winter. In the old days, houses were equipped accordingly, but now we¡¯d be lucky if every home even had a fireplace. And that didn¡¯t even consider all the firewood we would need for cooking and warming. There was also the issue of medicine. While the pharmacy would have enough for now, eventually we would run out of basic stuff. Did anyone even know how to do penicillin or other antibiotics? Would healing magic make up for the lack of such medicines? If not, many mostly eradicated diseases might make a comeback, and even generally harmless health issues could become a major problem. And I was¡­ useless - sitting here in my wheelchair, parked and forgotten. Hating myself for my narcissistic attitude, I decided to try and get over it and figure out how I could contribute instead. Which was not all that hard, because pretty much the only thing I could do was think. What was needed was a structured analysis of our priorities to bring some order into the chaos and get people organized. First, we needed to figure out if this was a localized event or not. Someone needed to grab a bike and go along one of the main roads and see if they could catch a cell signal further away from Lake Placid. Second, assuming the worst, i.e., that this was a global and permanent event, we needed to secure essentials before other groups in Lake Placid were going to grab everything. A crisis brings out the worst in people, so it was better to be prepared ¨C food, water, tools, weapons, shelter, in roughly that order. Why did I include weapons in that list? Well, history has taught us that many people will behave opportunistically if given a chance. A world without police, army, and courts might revert to a more feudal system of the rule of the strongest. And while I would always be at the bottom of the strength ranking, I could, at least, help make my group more powerful. Highest priority would have those fancy compound bows and crossbows that packed a mean punch. They would allow our group to hunt and also offer more flexible combat options if it ever came to it. After that axes, due to their utility outside of combat. Was I overly pessimistic? Maybe. But I had studied history, and I knew how people had behaved in the past. Better prepared than sorry. There was also an additional consideration. While humans were my number one worry, I couldn¡¯t disregard the possibility that creatures had been affected by mana as well and might mutate into something dangerous. I had no idea how likely that was, but again, better be prepared for anything. When the others came back to share what they had found out, I was ready to lay out my plan. At first, I had a hard time getting them to listen, but soon enough, my pragmatic and factual analysis of our situation convinced the others. And I think it also gained me some respect, which was quite important for me, both on an emotional level, but also from a survival perspective. I was under no illusion¡­ if this world was going back to the dark ages, then a quadriplegic was worse than useless ¨C I would be a drain on scarce resources. A few hours later, the two people that had gone out on their bikes to find help, or at least an area to get their cell phones to work, came back sweaty and with dire news - a good twenty to thirty miles away the road was suddenly cut off by a domelike barrier of slightly glowing air that prevented them from moving any further. Shockingly, through the barrier they could see a landscape that clearly didn¡¯t belong to the Adirondacks - there were massive fern-like plants and gigantic trees that looked like a mix between a Sequoia and an oak. Needless to say, people didn¡¯t take it well. Chapter 6 – The Reaver Dogs The next morning, we had our next meeting to discuss what to do going forward. By then, our group had increased to forty-two individuals. Most of them were ordinary people without particular skills in combat or survival - some local bankers, a lawyer, some salespeople, a carpenter, a couple of plumbers, and so forth. They seemed like friendly folks, except a few guys that seemed somewhat arrogant and one that gave me the stink eye for some reason. Before I could ponder more about that, Ben clapped in his hands to gather everyone¡¯s attention. ¡°Alright, folks, it seems like we made some progress. Jimmy, Brock, Ben, and Ari got another few shopping carts full of food from Price Chopper. Together with the supplies we got yesterday, we should be set for the time being. Even better, turns out that Tom and Jerry, I¡¯m not kidding people, those are their names, used to hunt game in the area using bows. I didn¡¯t even know that anyone was doing it around here, but there you go. They recovered their bows from their homes and have a couple dozen arrows each, so starting tomorrow they should be able to get some fresh meat for us to barbecue.¡± ¡°Any news about help from outside?¡± A woman shouted from the back of the crowd. ¡°Did Austin find anything?¡± The murmur in the crowd made it quite clear that this was the number one issue on everyone¡¯s mind. Ben waited patiently until people quieted down again. ¡°As most of you know, Austin took his bike and went in the other direction early this morning. It turns out that there is the same type of invisible barrier after roughly twenty-five miles. However, the area on the other side of the barrier looked different from the one yesterday ¨C instead of giant ferns and humongous trees it was an arid landscape, like in the Southern US.¡± ¡°Ben, stop talking about shrubs! Is any help coming?¡± The woman yelled. That was my cue to chip in something. ¡°The fact that there are different landscapes on either side of Lake Placid is quite significant,¡± I said loudly. ¡°First, either we have been teleported somewhere else, or the area around us has been teleported to us. Or, equally likely, there has been some type of time-anomaly that has changed the flora and fauna around us to historical conditions very different from what we encounter today. Since we have all encountered that voice, talking about a transfer, we can safely assume that we have been teleported somehow.¡± Collecting my thoughts for a second, I continued. ¡°Second, because the areas around us are vastly different despite the distance of fewer than sixty miles, we can conclude that at least some of the areas around us have also been teleported to this place. Which may mean that we aren¡¯t alone.¡± ¡°Third, if we aren¡¯t alone and the areas that have been teleported next to Lake Placid don¡¯t resemble anything we might encounter on earth, there is the possibility of a hostile encounter with different people, or even aliens. As long as the barrier is up, we are, perhaps, protected, but we should prepare ourselves for all eventualities.¡± At first, there was silence, and I could see my words sink in. Some people reacted dismissively, others were quite thoughtful, and some seemed afraid. But at least I earned some looks of grudging respect, which was the main reason for me to speak up. More than anything else, I was scared that the people here would consider me useless, a drag on resources¡­ so I had to make sure that I contributed something valuable to the team, in a highly visible way. With an appreciative smile in my direction, Ben started speaking again. ¡°Thank you for those valuable tho-¡° A vicious sounding drawn-out howl filled the air. It was unlike anything I had ever heard. The closest I could think of was the noise cats make when they are fighting, mixed with the howl of a wolfpack. Folks looked at each other, unsure how to react. And then the shouting of panicked people started, and the blood-curling shrieks of individuals caught in the open by whatever had caused that howl. Someone had to act. ¡°Everyone, back in the house! We need to barricade the doors and windows!¡± I shouted. Relieved to get a clear command, everyone started moving. Luckily, Annie didn¡¯t forget to push my wheelchair. Once everyone had piled inside, Mike pushed a massive table to the door, effectively blocking it, and Ben and Ibrahim stacked some chairs on top of breakfast tables to try and barricade the windows. Meanwhile, a few other people scrambled to find something that could be used as a weapon, be that a kitchen knife, a granite ashtray, or a two by four leaning next to the door. Whenever someone looked lost or unsure what to do, I gave them some command, usually veiled as a suggestion and, surprisingly, people didn¡¯t argue but started following my orders.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. A couple of minutes later, the first creatures came skidding around the corner at high speed. They looked like wolves or big dogs but had much longer teeth than usual, a more powerful built, and forelegs with long, razor-sharp claws that slightly dug into the concrete as they were moving. Blood dripping from their jaws, their beady, bloodshot eyes scanned the buildings, quickly homing in on our hastily secured house. And then they slowly walked closer, occasionally sniffing the ground, but mostly just scanning the house predatorily. Looking more closely at them, I noticed that they didn¡¯t have any fur, but a mix of scales, interlaced with tough-looking grey skin, akin to what a shark might have. Combined with smallish ears protected by a bone-arch and a split, serpent-like tongue, the creatures looked decidedly different from a dog or wolf. ¡°Reaver Dogs,¡± Jimmy said quietly. Usually, his comment would have been drowned out by the myriad of background noise common for larger groups, but at the moment it was deadly quiet, everyone holding their breath when the creatures had rounded the corner. ¡°What do you mean, Jimmy?¡± A young woman next to him whispered. ¡°How do you know what they are?¡± ¡°I can see it,¡± Jimmy responded hesitantly. ¡°I guess it is a skill I have!?¡± Before we could get more information from Jimmy, the first three Reaver Dogs moved up to the door and began sniffing around. Suddenly, there was a loud bang, and the door shook in its frame. A good number of people in our group were going pale. The sniffing noise was soon coming from all sides of the house as the Reaver Dogs searched for a way to enter. Everyone clustered to the middle of the room, trying to maximize the distance between any of the outside walls and themselves. And then it happened. Without warning, a huge Reaver Dog crashed through the glass of one of the big dining room windows, scattering the make-shift barrier behind it all over the place. Panting, and covered in a myriad of small cuts the Reaver Dog stared at us, oddly enough not attacking immediately. And rather than taking advantage of the brief respite, all we did was stare back. Perhaps it was fear? While that certainly played a role, the main reason probably was that none of us really knew how to deal with a life-or-death struggle like that ¨C the whole situation was too sudden and too dramatic for us soft city-dwellers. And then it became apparent why the Reaver Dog had stood there unmoving - another two jumped through the shattered window and joined the first one in the living room. Head lowered, growling menacingly, they advanced slowly on us. The people around me started to shrink back, ready to turn around and try to escape ¨C the flight instinct finally kicking in. But running would inevitably lead to disaster. Faced with a pack of dogs or other predators, the worst thing you could do was show fear or turn you back on them¡­ we needed to fight. Immediately, I tried to take charge of the situation. ¡°Mike, push that heavy table and topple it over to box them in. Jimmy and Ben, grab a chair and use it as a shield. Everyone else¡­ throw stuff at them and strike them hard. Anyone with an actual weapon, wait for your chance to finish them off. They are just big, ugly dogs!¡± A couple of the most fearful people kept on retreating, but the others realized that taking concerted action to fight the Reaver Dogs was our best bet. And things worked out mostly the way I had predicted. What I had not realized was how strong some of our people really were. Mike pushed that table over with such ferocity that it slammed into the dogs and caused them to shrink back for a second or two. And then he grabbed one of those huge armchairs and heaved it at them in a stunning display of power. Not to be outdone, Jane and a guy whose name I didn¡¯t know pelted the Reaver Dogs with heavy stone ashtrays with such force that they broke bones on impact. The Reaver Dogs made a strange moaning noise and began to slink back, but the others weren¡¯t having any of that. Brandishing cleavers and makeshift clubs, numerous men and women from our group jumped forward and laid into the dogs with an almost primal fury and ferocity. The ugly dogs had no chance. Quickly they were clubbed down or stabbed to death, with only a few deep scratches and one bite wound on our side, all of which Annie was able to heal quickly. While I was glad that we had won, but I also felt a pang of intense jealousy. Yes, I had been instrumental in the fight in planning a sounds strategy, but I couldn¡¯t participate in any of the execution. And the strength that some of the people had put on display¡­ it was mind-boggling. All those with a green core or a white core had gained an impressive amount of raw physical power or speed. In contrast to that¡­ I had mana vision? So. Fucking. Useless. Out of curiosity, I focused on the Reaver Dogs and immediately noticed a cloud of diffuse green mana evaporating, for lack of a better word, out of their bodies. What came next surprised me, even though, given the roleplaying-like setting, it perhaps shouldn¡¯t have come unexpectedly: The mana slowly split into many small, diffuse floating spheres, and each one drifted to one of the members of our group that had been somehow involved in the fighting. For some, the mana orbs were slightly larger than for others. In my estimation, the size of the orb roughly corresponded to the contribution to the fight. Interestingly, a decent-sized cloud of mana also approached Annie and myself, even though neither she nor I had been directly engaged in the combat action. I figured that this was akin to the experience system in most roleplaying games, only that instead of experience, people got mana. And one could get mana for actions that contributed to the group but weren¡¯t damage based¡­ which was huge, especially for me. I held my breath when the sphere reached the first of our group, but all that happened was that the mana simply got soaked up by the body of the person and disappeared. I was waiting for some indication that the person had noticed what had happened, but none of them showed any sign of discomfort, elation, or, really, any reaction. Clearly, none of them could see what was going on either. When the orb reached me, I observed carefully what was happening, but all I could feel was an almost unnoticeable boost in energy. Chapter 7 – Big Pete I was snapped out of my introspection when I suddenly heard the snarling of more Reaver Dogs outside, and I cursed myself for losing track of the danger we were still in. Same for the others - elation quickly turned to weariness as everyone realized that our victory was just the first skirmish in our fight for survival. ¡°Close off that street over there,¡± a voice suddenly boomed outside. ¡°The rest, fan out and chop, chop!¡± Everyone moved to a window to look at what was going on while I was stuck on my wheelchair in the middle of the room. ¡°It¡¯s those bikers,¡± Mike said in an incredulous voice. ¡°They are attacking the Reaver Dogs!¡± Everyone was just standing there and gawking. ¡°Annie,¡± I said pleadingly. ¡°Would you mind¡­?¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sorry Daniel.¡± She immediately rushed back to me and pushed me toward one of the windows. And there it was¡­ the Hell¡¯s Devils biker gang was rounding up a group of about twenty Reaver Dogs and was beating them to a pulp. It was quite impressive to watch how well the group was able to fight. They mostly had baseball bats, chains, and iron rebars and used them quite proficiently. A few of the guys also brandished swords - it looked anachronistic, but it probably beat using a chain or baseball bat any day. The swords looked like they were from the antique store down the road. They almost assuredly were fake, with too many faux gemstones and such inserted into the hilts, but they still looked like serviceable weapons the way they were cutting into the beasts. I knew my way around swords because I had done some reading on medieval and classic sword-fighting styles and had practiced a bit of HEMA, short for Historical European Martial Arts as part of my reenactment hobby. What the bikers were doing was more like a wild brawl style suitable to large-scale battles, perhaps akin to what the Anglo-Saxons might have been using ¨C mostly overhead chops, crude, yet effective for dealing with beasts. Certainly not the more refined techniques of the Italian or Japanese sword masters of yore. But what the bikers did, worked well, and they reduced the dogs to minced meat in no time. Once the bikers had mopped up all the Reaver Dogs, they casually approached the Bed and Breakfast. ¡°Yo there, you can all come out now and stop pissing yourself. Got them doggies all chopped up,¡± one of the bikers with a sword shouted. Hesitantly, we filed out of the house. I was relieved that the Reaver Dogs had been killed, but I was less than happy about the bikers doing the deed. Not because I begrudged them their shot at glory, frankly, I couldn¡¯t care less about that. In fact, it was not really about the bikers killing the dogs or not, but about the ease with which they had done that ¨C I was a bit worried about how organized and powerful they seemed compared to our rag-tag group of ordinary people. And based on the muttering of the people around me, I was not the only one with that sentiment. Ben exchanged a worried look with Annie, before whispering in a voice just loud enough for the rest of us to hear: ¡°Just about now, I really wished, for once, that there was a bunch of cops around. Those bikers were annoying before, but now they are actually intimidating.¡± Right on cue, a huge guy wearing a dark leather vest with various swastika symbols on it said mockingly: ¡°Look at them pussyfooting!¡± Before we could respond, a smaller guy stepped toward our group and pulled out a handkerchief. ¡°Does anyone need to blow their nose or dry off some tears?¡± The whole group of bikers started laughing raucously. All apart from one guy, that is - a gangly man, with leathery skin, a goatee, and a somewhat sophisticated appearance. He was still dressed in leathers, just like the rest of them, but he looked smart in them. Perhaps it was a better cut. Maybe it was the effect of him wearing glasses. Whatever it was, he was different somehow. And I felt that he was studying us, watching our reaction to the insults, classifying the people in our group. When he looked at me, I involuntarily shuddered, at the ice-cold penetrating stare, the calculating intellect behind those dark eyes, that were devoid of any warmth or empathy. And then he winked at me, a gesture that might have been interpreted as warm, funny, or entertaining by some, like a little sign of normalcy¡­ but with this guy, it provoked the opposite reaction. I felt like a deer caught in the headlights. And then it happened. While Mike, Ben, Jimmy, and all the others were getting agitated by the provocations and ridicule, the smallish guy stepped forward and spread out his arms. ¡°Good people. Please excuse the language of my friends. No harm, no foul, right? Let¡¯s not distract from the significant challenges we are facing. I¡¯m Big Pete,¡± he continued, ¡°and I¡¯m the leader of these stalwart heroes that just risked their lives to defend you. And let me tell you ¨C you are welcome!¡± He stared expectantly at us, obviously waiting for a response. At first, everyone just stared at Big Pete, unsure what just had happened - at first, a bunch of uncultured hooligans had confronted our group, only to then be addressed, out of nowhere, by someone with a sophisticated and clearly educated voice.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. The silence started to be a bit uncomfortable, but Big Pete was just tapping his foot on the ground, still smiling. Finally, a few people in our group started mumbling their thanks. ¡°Let¡¯s give them a round of applause!¡± Big Pete shouted and started clapping his hands. Reluctantly, everyone started following along, because it felt weird not to. Finally, the clapping died down, and Big Pete cleared his voice. ¡°Well, clearly, the dangers that confront us require strong, fearless fighters. And you, my friends, are obviously in need of protection. So, from now on the inner part of Lake Placid will be defended by us. Let¡¯s give another round of applause!¡± This time some people in our group were a bit more enthusiastic in their clapping and even gave each other relieved smiles as if a huge burden had been lifted off their shoulders. But I was getting more and more worried. Big Pete was playing us masterfully. And there was the hook. ¡°If you want to enjoy that protection, all you need to do is provide us with goods and services in exchange. Which is quite fair, isn¡¯t it? After all, you don¡¯t need to risk your life any longer!¡± ¡°That is a fucking protection racket! Do you think we are idiots?¡± Mike shouted immediately. Which, I had to admit, surprised me. Mike was sharper than he looked. ¡°Oh my, that is a harsh accusation, don¡¯t you think?¡± Big Pete responded with a smirk on his face. ¡°So, what if we don¡¯t want your protection?¡± Ben asked. ¡°Everyone can feel free to find a place to stay outside of town,¡± Big Pete calmly replied, looking at all of us. ¡°But in case you decide to stick around,¡­¡± he slowly walked up to Mike who was staring down at him with an angry scowl. ¡°You better learn the consequences of refusing to cooperate with us.¡± There was no warning, no sign of what was to come. One moment Big Pete was talking in a calm and relaxed tone, entirely at ease, and then, the next moment, he pulled in a frighteningly fast and smooth movement two curved and wickedly sharp-looking knives and buried them in Mike¡¯s body. Before anyone registered what had just happened, he turned around without another look and walked back to his fellow biker. Mike gasped in pain, feebly clutching at the knife handles with his hands, and then collapsed to the ground. Everyone in our group was stunned. I had never been exposed to such sudden, seemingly senseless violence, and I suspected that it was the same for most of the others. After a couple of seconds, as if on command, a few people started rushing forward to try help Mike somehow. Some tried to stem the bleeding, while Annie put her hands on Mike¡¯s body and willed forth her power. I could see intense concentration on her face, and the amber energy rushed from her into Mike¡¯s body. More and more energy flowed, but after a short while, the flood of energy subsided to a mere trickle and then completely dissipated. Annie was pale and drenched in sweat and couldn¡¯t even hold herself upright any longer. Utterly exhausted she sank to the ground next to the unmoving Mike, sobbing quietly. It had not been enough. Apparently, there were limits to magical healing. While everyone was trying to help Mike, I did the only thing I could, which was to study the bikers. Most of them were hooting at each other, clearly enjoying the spectacle. Some others seemed to get ready to leave. And Big Pete, the smallest guy in the group, he just stood there and stared at us, calculating, measuring, just as before. And then he looked at me again and did his little wink as if he and I were part of some joke or a play. I was terrified. If someone is driven by emotion, they are easy to manipulate. You cater to their expectations, and while not ideal, you can manage the situation to your own benefit. This guy¡­ he was cold. A killer. Ambitious, charismatic, smart, and ruthless, all at the same time, which made him extremely dangerous. But I have never backed down from a challenge, maybe because I¡¯m stupid or just because I¡¯m stubborn. Afraid or not, I was not going to roll on my back and offer my throat. That just was not me. So I stared back at Big Pete, right into his eyes, concealing my fear and worry and projecting utter self-confidence. And then I winked right back and mouthed: ¡°You will pay for that, asshole!¡± Which was about as boneheaded as it could be. I mean, I was a fucking quadriplegic. What the hell could I do against the bikers? Bite them? Right. But that didn¡¯t change my feelings, and sometimes my mouth just moves before my brain - tough luck. And the momentary narrowing of Big Pete¡¯s eyes was all I needed to make it worthwhile. Unless it would seriously bite my ass later on, but I would deal with that when it came to it. Finally, Big Pete signaled the bikers to leave, and soon only our group and the pile of dead Reaver Dogs was left in the street. Annie took a few more moments to recover, but then came to help me back into the bed and breakfast. Understandably, she was a lot more subdued than usual - none of the quick smiles and cheerful attitude that usually characterized her. And I didn¡¯t blame her - Mike¡¯s face when he had been stabbed replayed in my mind over and over. Eventually, we settled in for the night, and I started dozing off, completely exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster of the day. Suddenly, seemingly after a couple of moments, but probably some hours later, I felt a sack being tossed over my head and a firm hand clamp over my mouth. I couldn¡¯t see anything, but I thought I heard at least two people move around and slowly push the wheelchair out of the room into the night. At first, I was petrified. Then I tried biting the hand that was on top of my mouth, but the sack was too thick for that to have any impact. All I got for my trouble was a few strings of canvas in my mouth. As seconds turned into minutes, Panic started setting in, and I was beginning to hyperventilate. Eventually, perhaps twenty minutes later, a guy with a nasal, high-pitched voice said: ¡°I think we are far enough from the city so that they won¡¯t find him. Just kill him.¡± Another man with a rasping voice responded: ¡°Let¡¯s just dump him into this ravine. Less messy like that. I still think that we should have just killed him in the city¡­ as if those pussies from the town would organize and push back for that boy. Could have saved ourselves the effort of a couple of miles hiking in the dark.¡± ¡°That is why Big Pete is the boss and not you.¡± What do you do if you have quadriplegia in that situation? Do you try to scream? Check. Do you try to toss your head around? Check. Do you try to get your body to move for once? Check. Do you pray to God? Well, I was not really the religious type, but if all other options are exhausted, you give it a shot ¡ª nothing to lose. So pray, I did. Until I felt my body tilt forward and my head took its first painful bounce on the ground. Maybe the prayer worked, because I fell headfirst into a bush that was growing at the edge of the ravine and some branches somehow got stuck in the sack that was still over my head. This jerked my body around so that instead of headfirst I was now feet first pointing down into the ravine, and the sack, which was not tightened up in any way, slipped off my head. However, none of that arrested my fall in a meaningful way. A few yards further down, I hit my head on a rock and was blessedly unaware of the rest of my fall. Chapter 8 - A Silver Lining In the dead of night, Annie got up from her bed to check in on Daniel. Her body was used to this type of rhythm, so she didn¡¯t even need an alarm clock to wake up at the same time every night. But that didn¡¯t mean that she was wide awake. Bleary-eyed, she stumbled over to the bathroom, flipped the switch and cursed when the light didn¡¯t come on. It was not as if Annie had never experienced any power outages, far from it. So it was not as if she had not lived through days without the conveniences provided by the electrical grid. But in all of those cases, she had had flashlights, battery-powered appliances and, in the worst case, a car with which she could drive somewhere that did have power. But there was more to the current situation. While there always was uncertainty when the utility company would be able to fix the grid, everyone knew that it was a matter of hours, perhaps days. There was no such expectation now. Sure, some people still thought that the current situation was temporary, that this was a dream, perhaps an EMP blast, or something else strange, but that things would go back to normal. They had to, right? But Annie felt it in her bones. This was it. There was no going back. They had to deal with this reality or¡­ or die? Annie shivered slightly, despite the stifling heat in her room. And then the remembered Mike, his face frozen in a rictus of pain, bloody wounds on his chest. And while Annie was no stranger to injuries, even bloody ones, she had never experienced first-hand the mindless violence that was all too common in some parts of the world and even in the US. Only, it had not been mindless. Annie was not a rocket scientist, but she could read people, which is why she usually got along well with everyone, at least everyone she wanted to interact with. But Big Pete¡­ he was giving her the shivers. The term ¡®psychopath¡¯ immediately came to mind. She had seen the type before, in mental wards and prisons, and also, sadly, in some of LA¡¯s high society. Not that she was part of that. Her parents had frequented those circles and dragged her along a few times. But she had no interest in the fake smiles, pretentious celebrity-wannabees, and ass-licking that was all too common there. And the backstabbing. That was the worst part. No, she had consciously decided to leave that world behind and help others in need. It was her calling. Her parents had not liked it, so they had cut her off - the black sheep of the family, the pariah. Annie shrugged her shoulders, put on her cheap plastic slippers, and shuffled out on the hallway. Daniel¡¯s room was just a couple of doors down the corridor. Immediately, she noticed that something was off. It was just too quiet. Usually, she would hear Daniel¡¯s snoring at this point or the groaning when he was caught in one of his frequent nightmares. But it was eerily quiet and just felt¡­ abandoned. Suddenly scared, Annie rushed into his room, fearing the worst. But she was not prepared to find nothing. No trace of Daniel. -------------------------------------------------------- My throat felt raw as if I had been screaming, and my head hurt like hell. Probably another nightmare, it wasn¡¯t the first one. But why was it so dark? I always had a night light on¡­ The only thing I could see was a sliver of light somewhere above me. I had no idea what that was, though. Perhaps some streetlight shining through a gap in the shutters onto my bedroom ceiling? ¡°Annie?¡± I croaked. I needed water. And a fucking aspirin, or five. This headache was killing me. I tried to moisten my lips with what little saliva I had. ¡°Annie!¡± I shouted again, this time somewhat louder. But there was no response. In fact, it was eerily quiet ¨C there was neither the humming of the air condition nor the fridge in the kitchen, no ticking of the clock, or scrabbling of the mice in the attic. And there was no traffic noise outside at all. It was as if¡­ and then, with a flash, I recalled everything that had happened ¨C the transfer; the panic and rage I had felt when being abducted; the despair when falling head forward down into the ravine and the pain of hitting my head. So where the fuck was I? Heaven? Too dark for that. Hell was out as well, because there was no fire or heat, even though my headache was spot-on in the pain-department. So what did that leave me with? Either some other form of afterlife, or, and much more likely in my estimation, at the bottom of a deep, twisting canyon, or in a cave. I had been in some deep slot canyons back when I was still able to walk, and some of them only allowed a sliver of light to come all the way down to the ground. But usually, that sliver was more elongated. The spot of light I could see was kind of round. So my money, not that I had any, was on some type of hidden cave and I had crashed right through the ceiling. How I had survived the fall, I had no idea though. Dumb luck, probably. That and the fact that I had been unconscious and was a quadriplegic to boot, and hence as relaxed as possible. Supposedly that reduced the risk of injuries. I almost had to chuckle at the irony of it.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Not that it really mattered, because I was alone in a freaking cave somewhere in the middle of nowhere. In other words, I was screwed, no matter what. As if things weren¡¯t bad enough, I suddenly heard the clacking of something on stone, edging closer. It was a faint noise, only audible because of the complete silence in the cave. And even then, I might have missed it, if it was not such an irregular pattern ¨C a short sequence of the quick tapping sound, followed by complete quiet and then a slow and even fainter noise. I strained my eyes to see something in the dark but could only make out the faint outline of rock illuminated by that tiny window to the sky. Involuntarily, a soft whimper escaped my lips. This was like a nightmare ¨C alone, in the dark, no help around, and something was approaching. And there was nothing I could do. Soon, my worst fears became a reality - a giant fucking spider got briefly illuminated by the sliver of light. At first, my brain didn¡¯t comprehend what my eyes had just seen ¨C which was not that surprising, since it had a dog-sized body, with huge, furry legs that allowed the creature to dash across the rock. Thoughts frantically raced through my brain. ¡®Shit. Ok, keep calm, Daniel. Spiders don¡¯t attack people unless they get scared. And why would they, right? We are too big to be their prey¡­ unless they are the fucking size of a pony! Fuck, fuck, fuck.¡¯ Stay quiet? Or scream? Not sure what was better, I did something in between - more like a groan perhaps. The spider paused for an instant, but then skittered closer again. For a moment, it hovered above my head, seemingly smelling or tasting or feeling vibrations or whatever the fuck spiders do. And then it moved on to my lower body. And I totally freaked out. Ever seen a quadriplegic freak out? Well, it is kind of pathetic. I tossed my head around, screaming as loudly as my raw throat allowed me to, and¡­ well, that was about it. And the spider didn¡¯t seem fazed at all. Somehow, it had figured out that I posed no threat. Well, perhaps if the spider put a leg next to my mouth, I could bite it, but that was all. And the idea of biting into a giant spider leg was almost as scary as whatever my imagination told me the spider was going to do to me. However, it turned out that my imagination was not up to snuff. Rather than wrap me into a cocoon or dissolve parts of my body to eat as I had morbidly imagined, the giant arachnid cut open my arm with its huge chelicerae, lowered its abdomen over the wound and pushed a mass of spider eggs into my body. Once done, the spider rapidly moved away. Holy shit. I needed a plan and quick! I could already imagine little spiderlings hatch in my body and eat their way out. If I didn¡¯t know better, I could have sworn that I felt them already starting to squirm around in my flesh. So, what did I have going for myself? Well, I was still alive. Beyond that¡­ not much. I was tempted to scream for help but knew it would be a futile waste of energy and time. I needed magic, like fucking right away ¨C healing magic like Annie¡¯s or perhaps some type of fire magic to burn those eggs before they could hatch. All I had was mana vision, though. But maybe I had some, yet, undiscovered abilities? I mean, that silver mana had to be good for something, right? I had given it a half-assed attempt before, trying to figure out some of my hoped-for super-powers, but maybe it was time to get serious. My fucking life depended on it, literally. Feverishly, I looked around with my mana vision activated, trying to spot some way out. Alas, all I could see was some faint outline of the rock and an indistinct cloud of dark, pulsing energy in my arm - the spiderlings, I figured. Which raised some questions¡­ if I could see mana in the spiderlings, why did I not see mana in my own body? Perhaps these spiders were different, magic creatures or some shit like that. But maybe I did have that energy in my own body, but just couldn¡¯t see it. Or, I didn¡¯t have any in my body, which then begged the question of why not. Also, how did the mana go and do what people needed it to do? I had observed a flow of energy from Annie¡¯s chest area, to wherever the mana was needed. So could I perhaps nudge that energy from my own chest area to do the same thing? Did I even have any such energy? I couldn¡¯t see my chest, but perhaps I could ¡®feel,¡¯ for lack of a better word, the energy inside of my body. Worth a shot. I tried to get into a meditative state by focusing on every muscle in my body, which, sadly, was restricted to the facial muscles in my case, and slowly relax them, one by one. From what I remembered of those self-improvement videos I had watched, you needed to find complete peace within yourself and ignore all outside stimuli, to achieve another level of self-awareness. Hard to do when you are freaking out about spiders eating you from the inside. God, I hated that yoga hippie crap. Not that I thought it was ineffective ¨C plenty of studies had shown that it worked. It just had never been something for me. Despite my misgivings, I could feel my internal awareness slowly increase. Immediately, I began noticing areas filled with a shimmering silver nimbus - little diffuse clouds behind my eyes, around my face, and in my neck. And then, when I tried to ¡®reach¡¯ further down, I encountered a barrier that my mind couldn¡¯t cross ¨C right at the point where I had broken my neck those four years ago, my mind was abruptly stopped in its track. Furiously, I pushed with all my will against the rubbery barrier, but all that did was to intensify my already pounding headache. The barrier felt like a layer of rubber, absorbing my pressure with ease and then simply bouncing me back. After minutes of ineffectually pushing against the barrier, I had to admit defeat. It was hopeless. Once more, my injury threatened to thwart me, and this time, it would be my end. No. Fucking. Way. Not without a fight. I was not a quitter; never had been, and never would be. But apparently, brute force wouldn¡¯t do. I had to develop a different approach. If pushing didn¡¯t work, maybe I needed to create a tool, some force multiplier or focus. If mana could be molded somehow, perhaps I could shape it into something useful. Looking inside of myself, I imagined the little clouds of what I assumed to be silver mana to gather from all over and pressed it into the formed of a bullet. At first, I struggled to keep the mana in the shape I desired, but eventually, after much cursing and mounting panic, I succeeded. When I pushed the bullet with all my might against the barrier, the bullet burst into mana fragments and the blockade slightly deformed under the impact. My elation was short-lived, however, because the barrier rebounded back to its original position within a split-second. With an angry snarl, I gathered the mana again and formed another bullet, slamming it against the barrier ¨C with exactly the same effect. After another five attempts, I had to admit the futility of my approach. If a bullet wouldn¡¯t work with such a rubbery material, perhaps something with more of an edge would do the trick, something that relied less on impact force and more on sustained pressure focused on a tiny surface, targeting to puncture or cut, rather than rip. This time, I tried forming the mana into a wedge with a sharp point, instead of a bullet and pushed that against the barrier. There still was a bit of a rebound, but at least I felt that I was getting somewhere with this. And indeed, I could see a tiny blemish in the previously pristine barrier. I adjusted the wedge and included little grooves in the surface, mimicking the design of a drill bit. This time, rather than pushing the wedge with all my force against the barrier, I focused on making the mana drill turn rapidly once the tip touched the little blemish from my previous attempt. And indeed, after some harrowing minutes, I felt that the mana drill started digging deeper into the barrier. And then, suddenly, without any warning, the barrier shattered into tiny little shards that rapidly faded out of existence. Instantly, my awareness flooded the rest of my body - I could now see my chest area, the laborious pumping of my heart, the lungs struggling to draw breaths, bruises, and even fractured ribs from the fall. And there, in my right arm, was a pocket of dark energy slowly churning. With a start, I realized that it was not one mass, but that there were lots of tiny circles, each one about the size of the tip of my pinky ¨C almost certainly representing the little spiderling. Chapter 9 – And Now With Feeling Awareness of the rest of my body and the spiderlings residing in it was great, but it didn¡¯t solve my problem. So¡­ shoot the bugs! That seemed the obvious choice. As I had practiced before, I formed a bullet out of my silver mana and then blasted it with as much explosive force as I could muster against the dark spheres of energy. Alas, the effect was underwhelming. All it did was push the tiny black orb a little bit back, which seemed to disperse all the kinetic energy I had been able to impart onto the bullet. A wedge or drill bit turned out similarly ineffective because the spiderlings just shifted slightly to the side or back¨C it was like trying to impale a dumpling in a watery soup using a fork¡­ unless you got the dumpling to the edge of the bowl, there was no way you could get the fork to stick. At least, trying to impale the little freaks had agitated them ¨C it felt as if they were starting to move around a helluva bit more. Or perhaps that was just my imagination¡­ I hoped it was. Fucking spiders. And why did their mana churn around like crazy? Was that a feature of being a spider? Or was that normal for mana? My silver mana did nothing of that sort¡­ it just sat there, doing diddly-squat. So what now? Laying around and admiring the view was not going to get me anywhere, and neither was shooting the spiders, as it had turned out. Time to play around with my mana, and see if I could do anything else with it. A good starting point was to try and make it rotate just like the spiders seemed to be doing. I was clutching at straws and was well aware of it, but I was out of ideas on what else to try. And the clock was ticking. Exerting mental pressure, I pushed mana from my chest area into the shoulder, hoping it would cause the mana there to move elsewhere and thus start some sort of chain reaction. Contrary to my hope, the mana in my shoulder just sat there and didn¡¯t move one jota. All that happened was that the mana accumulated and then slowly dispersed in all directions, including back toward my chest. Which meant that I had to do this the hard way ¨C all the mana in my body had to be moved simultaneously. Easier said than done, though. It took me a few attempts to spread my awareness across my whole body and not only push the mana everywhere but also give it some direction. And then it took some more frustrating and lengthy trial and error to figure out that the mana had to follow some type of path in my body - basically it had to go in a giant figure eight, with the heart forming the fulcrum of the cycle. But trying to get the whole thing to work all simultaneously was challenging, to say the least. After several failed attempts, panic started to set in again. How much time did I have left? Was it minutes? Or was it measured in hours or days? The uncertainty was nerve-wracking. I clenched my jaw and grabbed the silver mana in a mental iron fist, spreading my concentration evenly throughout my body. It was like juggling with five balls, one of which was of a different size. Exceedingly hard. But there was no choice. Even though I didn¡¯t know if this would help me at all, it was the only possible path forward I could see. So I pushed, and struggled, and fought. Whenever my concentration slipped, I would lose control of a part of the mana. Some of it would naturally gravitate back into the figure eight, but some other I had to collect, while not losing control of the rest. Eventually, I could feel that some type of rotation was starting to set in. I had to ¡®cajole¡¯ the rest of the mana to move along, but the process became more natural. And eventually, it became a self-perpetuating movement that went through all of my body, seemingly reaching every cell. The rotation became faster and faster, and I could feel my body temperature rise swiftly. At first, it was only uncomfortably warm, but then it began to be painful as if there were tiny flames all inside of me. Within moments, an excruciating cutting pain set in ¨C like small shards of glass tearing through my body, slowly skinning me from the inside. And then it hit me! I could feel pain in my lower body! Despite the agony, I first started to chuckle and then laugh out loud, before I passed out. -------------------------------------------------------- I woke up, covered in a cold sweat, shivering, and with the worst headache I had ever had. But I couldn¡¯t help myself; I had to smile - I could feel the wet t-shirt cling to my body, the pain of numerous bruises, the itch of the sweat-soaked shorts against my inner thigh¡­ for the first time in four years, I felt something below my neck. ¡­ That itch was quite annoying, though. Funny, how one forgets those little details. Shit, I really needed to scratch there, and no one was here to help. Perhaps feeling the rest of my body was not all that it was made out to be. Unless¡­ hesitantly I tried to move my arm. It twitched! ¡°Fuck yeah!¡± I shouted into the dark, cackling like a maniac. Not the smartest thing to do, perhaps, with, likely, all kinds of creepy things crawling around in this cave. But to hell with that. I needed to get it out. I was still weak as a kitten and had mostly forgotten how to control my muscles, but I could work on that. And then I remembered the spiderlings. I was still in a shitload of trouble. But my chances had definitely improved. Was the change somehow reflected in the status sheet as well? I remembered seeing some blue screens popping up in my brain, but at the time, I had been busy and had just mentally waved them away. Suddenly curious, I called up my character sheet.
Name Daniel Hollander Rank Initiate 1
Titles: Mental Bastion, First Initiate
Strength: 1 [+1]If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Intuitive Reasoning: 14 Mana
Agility: 3 [+3] Complex Reasoning: 17 Silver 10/10
Speed: 1 [+1] Emotional Intelligence: 9
Dexterity: 3 [+3] Perception: 13
Endurance: 1 Spatial Awareness: 21
Vitality: 7 [+2] Willpower: 21 [+1]
Available characteristic points: 5
Spells
Mana Vision Level 2 [+1]
Available spell points: 5
Skills
Mental Ward Level 1 Mental Fortitude Level 1
Multitasking Level 2 [+1] Internal Mana Manipulation Level 1 [+1]
Meditation Level 1 [+1]
Available skill points: 0
Holy shit. That was a lot of changes, especially to the physical stats. I was still pathetically low in all of them, but something was better than nothing. Apparently, I also had somehow ranked up from Unranked to Initiate 1. I was not sure how the ranking worked and hence how much of an increase or change this really implied ¨C something I had to keep an eye on, because I needed to get stronger quickly. If the rank was even connected to getting more powerful¡­ I had to be careful treating my gaming and roleplaying knowledge as the new reality. There was also another title out of a sudden. I remembered getting the Mental Bastion title, but never really had figured out if it had any effect. Was it just like a name? Or did it have any real impact? Curious, I focused on ¡®Mental Bastion¡¯ and a blue box popped up in my vision.
Title: Mental Bastion You are the first ever to resist the mental chaos of the Netherworld. As a reward, your ability to withstand mental intrusions is double of what the score of the respective skill or spell otherwise indicates.
Holy moly. Sweet stuff. Apparently, titles were the real deal. Not that doubling the mental resistance from a low level, as indicated by level 1 for Metal Ward and Mental Fortitude, would rock the world¡­ but for later levels it might be a huge deal, especially if level progression was increasing non-linearly in difficulty. Now eager, I dismissed the blue box and focused on ¡®First Initiate.¡¯ Instantly, another blue box popped up in my vision.
Title: First Initiate You are the first in this pocket dimension to have cycled your mana, which marks you for future greatness. As a reward, your mana recovery rate has doubled.
That was freaking insane! A doubling of my mana recovery rate? Hell yeah, I will take that! Not that I had any idea at this point in how far mana recovery was a bottleneck or not, because I only had ONE FUCKING SPELL! Whatever. It was a free bonus, and it sounded like it might be huge if I lucked out and got more spells down the road. And what about those available characteristic points? That was new as well and perhaps tied to me leveling up. At least that would make sense. So¡­ could I dump points in whatever characteristic I wanted to raise? That sounded too good to be true. I was seriously tempted just to do that but then decided to check out the rest of the stats first to see if I could gain any more insights. Both Mana Vision, a spell, as well as Multitasking, a skill, had leveled up in addition to a one-point increase in willpower, and Internal Mana Manipulation and Meditation were two new skills. While those changes weren¡¯t dramatic per se, it did indicate a couple of important factors to consider. First, maybe willpower had increased due to my leveling, but then the question was why all the physical stats had gone up and only one of the mental stats. That meant that it was more likely that breaking through the barrier and getting the mana cycle going had somehow fixed the nerve damage I had suffered four years ago, which explained the increase in physical stats. And because it had taken an inordinate amount of willpower to get there, willpower had leveled up as well. Which fit nicely with the increase in Mana Vision and Multitasking - I had relied heavily on both of those abilities to achieve my goal, and, therefore, they had leveled up. If all of my reasoning was correct, then there was one more little tidbit to consider¡­ I didn¡¯t feel as if I had gained an addition in level and then been granted improved understanding of mana vision and multitasking. No, it was more that I had practiced those things, had learned by trial and error to figure things out and that then was reflected in the increased stats. So there was no cheat for increased understanding available by just repetitively doing stuff over and over. I actively had to try and understand things and improve. Unless¡­ speculatively, I eyed those spell points. I activated mana vision and took in my surrounding. A soft silver glow covered my body, apart from the ugly black-swirling cloud in my arm. I could also make out a faint trace of energy around me, in the air, and even the stones, that formed a sort of current that allowed me to perceive my surrounding in a weird way, a bit like infrared vision, perhaps, just related to mana instead. And then I mentally added a point into mana vision. Immediately, a deeper understanding of the spell and how it worked flooded my brain. The feeling was bizarre, and unlike anything, I had ever experienced. The closest was probably those ¡®Eureka¡¯ moments when going for a walk, or rather being pushed for a walk, while my subconscious was puzzling over a tough math problem ¨C the sudden insight out of nowhere. And the effect was noticeable - the radius of my vision extended from about four feet to six feet and the details I could perceive increased from rough shapes to a more nuanced awareness of physical features. This was huge! Assuming this applied to other spells as well, having those spell points available would allow for an exponential increase in utility and power without hundreds of hours of training. Perhaps even more critical right now¡­ if I could get rid of the spiderlings in my body, I now actually had a chance of getting out of here. It was pitch black in the cavern apart from that one source of light high overhead, so even if I now was able to move, a freaking miracle by itself, I would have had no idea where to go - spelunking without light was not high on my list of things to do. But now things were different ¨C Mana Vision gave me the ability to perceive my surrounding to a limited degree. And if I could further upgrade that skill¡­ I might actually have a shot. Turning to the characteristic points, I hesitated. While it was tempting to just dump them into the physical attributes that I needed right now, like endurance, strength, perhaps even speed, I was hesitant to do that. If training was the key to increase stats, then it stood to reason that at a lower starting point, the gains would be rapid. If so, then spending points right now seemed like a huge waste of future potential. ¡®Focus on your priorities, Daniel¡¯ I chided myself. If I couldn¡¯t get rid of the spiders, it was a moot point to think about future potential. Postponing further thoughts about an optimal leveling path, I focused my mana vision on my body once more and settled into the state of tranquility that had allowed me to see inside of my own body and manipulate mana. Reaching that state of introspection was still hard to do, but with practice came proficiency. Or something like that. Eventually, I succeeded in seeing the mana streams inside of my own body. And it was a sight of beauty. Whereas before there had been little pockets of diffuse silver clouds of mana distributed all over my body, now the mana flowed steadily throughout my body in a figure eight cycles, with the fulcrum at my steadily beating heart. The silver mana looked like one of those images of a creek where the photographer leaves the lens open for an extended period, and the water appears like a band of silver, fluffy cotton balls. It was not all smooth, though, far from it. There were imperfections, such as jagged pieces, parts where the mana was seeping out of the cycle and slowly diffused into the body, and areas with a sort of whirlpool-like currents. And then there was the black churning mass that was the spiderlings. Chapter 10 – Crush ‘Em I needed to find a way to kill those spiderlings. Now that I could use my arms, I could potentially dig my fingers into the wound and rip out the little creatures, or rather eggs at this point, but for obvious reasons, I was not too keen on that idea. I shuddered at the thought of pushing my finger inside of my body and dig around my raw flesh for little spiderlings. Perhaps a measure of last resort, but certainly not my first choice. I focused my mana vision on the swirling energy around the spiderlings. It was hard to make out details, but it almost looked as if some of the flesh around the area the little spiders were in was starting to absorb some of the black energy. More specifically, there was a cone of darkness, reaching from the spiderlings toward my chest. The stream of silver mana that was running through my body, curved around the affected area, as if pushed away. And as I watched, the black area slowly, almost imperceptibly grew bigger. Bloody Hell. Things looked even worse than I had thought. The black area was like a dead zone that my mind could look in on but couldn¡¯t pierce. Cursing violently, I hammered my will against the darkened area. But to no avail. It was not a barrier like I had encountered in my neck, but just a void that took my mental prodding and simply drained it into nothingness. Now furious, I decided to go after the source ¨C dead area or not, if I couldn¡¯t get rid of the spiderlings, I was doomed. In my previous attempt, I had already learned that shooting the spiderlings or trying to stab them was not going to be successful unless I prevented them from drifting out of the way. The obvious solution was to create a restriction of my own, a barrier that I could tighten to crowd the spiderlings together and then shoot or crush them. After some thought, I drew strings of silver mana out of the mana cycle and started weaving them into a tight lattice around the spiderlings. It was surprisingly tricky because I had to superimpose an image of strings on the diffuse ethereal mana clouds, slowly forcing them to elongate by exerting a ridiculous amount of mental pressure. Hard enough with one or two strings, but I needed a shitload of them. At first, I attempted to create multiple threads and then start weaving them together, but I quickly realized that the cords weren¡¯t stable ¨C the moment I reduced the focus on one of them to create another string, the first one would start dissolving into the mana¡¯s natural form. But it turned out that once I started weaving strings together, forming a structure, the mana held the shape a lot better - it was still deteriorating, but at a much slower pace. Once I was done with my improvised barrier, I started tightening the lattice around the spiderlings, careful to avoid the darkened area. Immediately, the little creatures began to squirm in my net, clearly agitated. I kept on pushing relentlessly, despite the mounting resistance, all the way until the spiderlings were tightly crammed together. Rather than forming a bullet, I decided just to keep pressing down on them. Hard. I wanted the little fuckers to squirm, to feel a bit of the desperation and panic that I had to suffer through. I was going to grind them to dust under the heel of my will. The pressure kept mounting until one of the little spiders suddenly stopped moving and released a tiny cloud of dark energy. Immediately, I ramped up the force on the remaining spiderlings and one after another, like 4th of July crackers, they started spilling their mana. Once all the spiderlings had stopped wiggling around, I slowly released the lattice, and the mana that I had used slowly drifted back into the cycling movement. ¡°Take that, you suckers!¡± I shouted elatedly. But then, startled, I noticed that the black mana that had been released by the spiderlings seeped into the darkened area and drove the cone ever closer to my heart - what had been a somewhat comfortable six inches distance, suddenly had shrunk to only three inches. I had no idea what would happen if, or when the black mana would reach my heart, but I didn¡¯t want to find out. With sudden urgency, I once more created a barrier of silver mana, but this time, I tried to corral the black mana and push it away from my heart. At first, the force of my will pushed the black mana back fairly easily, but it became exponentially harder the further I tried to push it back. And it required me to keep the pressure up permanently, because the moment I relaxed my focus, the black mana rushed back to the area it had occupied previously. At an impasse, I tried figuring out what I could do. And then I noticed my silver mana somehow¡­ binding with the black mana. Or at least interacting in some way. I had not noticed it before, but the mana at the edge of the cone slowly became somewhat dimmer compared to the rest of the silver mana. It was hard to make out, more of a feeling than anything else, but it got me worried. I stared closely at the edge of the cone and noticed that the black mana in the cone somewhat lessened at the same time as my silver mana grew dimmer. So¡­ what did that mean? Was the silver mana reacting chemically, or rather magically, with the black mana? Was there some process that changed both manas? Reluctantly, I put another couple of points into Mana Vision. It felt bad spending all my points on that particular spell, but I would need it anyway to find my way in the dark through this damn cave. And upon reaching level 5 in the spell, it felt as if there was a magnifying glass inserted into my vision, which allowed me to see more closely what was happening with my mana. Rather than the silver mana absorbing the black mana or somehow binding with it, the two seemed to twist around each other, forming something akin to a braid, or perhaps a double spiral.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. And, surprisingly, it was beautiful. The black mana that I had perceived at first as something evil turned out to be stunning in its own right. It had a dark shine to it, and a shadowy consistency, that made it look simultaneously sinister, mysterious, and alive. I wanted it. Badly. From what I could see, the amalgamation of the two types of mana was unstable. Whenever the silver mana would twist around the black mana in a sinuous dance, followed by the same movement of the black mana to form the beautiful structure, inevitably either the black or the silver mana would start fraying or twisting the wrong way, and the whole structure broke down. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? I really was not sure. But my gut feeling told me that if the structure got completed, I would bind the black mana to myself. Which was what I really wanted. There was a risk that it would replace the silver mana or perhaps become a new mix that represented something altogether different¡­ but I was willing to take that chance. Sometimes one must take a gamble in life, and if I wanted to get out of this cave alive, I needed every advantage I could get. With my mind set, I narrowed in on one of the silver strands that just had started its beautiful tango with the black mana and began to subtly guide the twisting and turning strands. Whenever the silver mana moved in a different direction, I would gently push it back, and when the black mana went astray, I forced the silver mana to bend and follow its lead. Slowly the mana structure grew, and, instinctively, I began to guide it into my mana cycle. Immediately, a massive rush of silver mana entered the structure, elongated it and spread it out over my whole body, and, in the process, pulled along the remaining black mana that had not yet been incorporated. The whole process had perhaps taken a couple of hours, but I felt as if I had just completed a few chess matches in a row - I was absolutely drained mentally. At the same time, I was extremely excited to see what the impact of this was. And I felt a bit of dread as well. More than a bit, in fact. After all, I had kind of played some Russian roulette there. If things had gone South, I was as good as dead. I reactivated Mana Vision and looked into my body. And there it was. A beautiful, twisting stream of silver and black mana, organically interacting and flowing through my body. I breathed a deep sigh of relief. My Mana Vision worked just as before, so at least I was going to be able to see something. Now the only question was what the black mana did and how I could use it. Tentatively I pushed a few wisps of black mana from the cycle toward my hand and waited to see if there was any effect. Alas, nothing happened. I then pulled in some more mana, to see if that perhaps would cause some effect, but no such luck. However, I did notice that as I added black mana, my hand, almost imperceptibly started feeling lighter. Gravity magic? That would be amazing but somehow didn¡¯t feel right. For lack of other ideas, I started pushing the black mana into all different body parts, with mostly the same effect ¨C the body parts grew almost imperceptibly lighter. The only difference was that when I put it the eyes, it significantly increased my sensitivity to light. Even the tiny amount of light coming from the overhead hole in the ceiling was enough to sufficiently illuminate the area for this more sensitive vision ¨C a skill that still might come in quite handy, even if it was less than exciting a the moment. All of this testing was good and nice, but it neither got my ass out of danger nor provide food and water, which was going to be an issue rather sooner than later, as my rumbling stomach and parched throat reminded me. And, worse, I still had those spiderling corpses buried in my arm. I didn¡¯t even want to think about it, but if they stayed in there, it was going to get infected and probably kill me anyway. Taking out the bodies with dirty hands would kill me as well if I even could stand the pain of doing so in the first place. So I was on a tight timeline. I focused my energy on getting up or at least into a crawling position. Anything that would allow me to start moving. After a few unsuccessful attempts, I finally stood on my wobbly legs. Despite my unsteady legs and the cramps, I could already feel coming, a huge smile was plastered on my face. Hell yeah! Four years since I had done this the last time. Someone who has not been through what I had been through wouldn¡¯t understand the feeling. Indeed, in my position, most people might have been scared, depressed, or even fatalistic, given the overwhelming odds stacked against my survival. But I was just happy to be walking, of being in command of my own life, regardless of how much in peril I was right now. I sure didn¡¯t want to die¡­ but frankly, if it was to happen, I at least had the pleasure of staring death into its eyes, spitting on the sickle in defiance before it would reap my life, instead of laying on the ground, waiting for the end to come while my bladder slowly released its content, drib by stinking drib. I scanned the surrounding area for anything useful or a clue on how I could get out but was not able to see much of anything. The most direct route would be to climb out the way I had come in¡­ I pulled black mana into my eyes and inspected the rock going down from that little speck of sky that was visible from the bottom of the cave. It turned out that there was a chimney going down, which was, in principle, good news. I had done rock climbing before, so perhaps I could shimmy and wedge my way up there if it was narrow enough. But upon further inspection, it looked as if the walls were rather smooth and slippery, mostly covered with a thin layer of wet moss that was not going to provide sufficient handholds, even if I had been in top shape, which, clearly, I was not. Worse, the chimney only started about ten feet off the ground ¨C way too far to reach, even if I piled up all kinds of debris as an improvised ramp. Disappointed, I cast Mana Vision, which by now extended to about ten feet, and inspected the rest of the cave. It turned out that it was perhaps fifteen yards long and about five yards wide. On the far end of the smaller side, there was a crack in the wall that might lead to a tunnel or a different cave. The ground that I had been laying on was covered by a thick layer of soft earth and plant debris, which was probably what had cushioned my fall enough for me to survive with only a few major bruises. Speaking of those bruises¡­ surprisingly, they felt somewhat better. I figured that my cycling of the mana had something to do with that - healing my whole body to some degree, which explained the reconnected nerve connections in my spine, the decreased pain from the bruises, and the vastly reduced headache. The rest of the cave looked mostly like smooth limestone. There was some organic debris, like twigs and what looked like bones of mostly smaller animals. And poop. Big and loads of it. So that was something to look out for. Apparently, some big creature frequented this cave. Make that plural - big creatures. I bent down and dug through the pile of sticks and branches to see if there was anything that might serve as a weapon to defend myself. After a bit of searching around, I was able to find a solid stick, about two inches across and perhaps a yard long, kind of like a truncheon. It was not ideal, but better than nothing. In addition, I also took a longer, somewhat thinner stick to serve as a cane. Feeling somewhat better equipped, I moved towards the far end of the cave where I had spotted the crack in the wall, hoping that I would be able to squeeze through and that it would lead to somewhere else. Images of me being stuck in some narrow passageway, neither able to move forward, nor able to back out again crossed my mind, but I quickly banished them from my thoughts. Luckily, the crack turned out to be a reasonably spacious passageway that was leading down for a few minutes before leveling out again. Eventually, the tunnel started widening until I couldn¡¯t make out the other side any longer. Chapter 11 – The Cave Even though I had only been walking for a few minutes, my legs already felt like jelly, and I could barely keep myself upright - no wonder after four years of not moving at all. At the same time, I felt terrific. Whereas my first few steps had been extremely awkward and jerky, a bit like a zombie, by the end of my little walk I felt my gait become a lot smoother, the steps less jarring, and my balance infinitely better. The rapid improvement was, in fact, incredible. Usually, people that wake up from a coma after years of inactivity need to relearn how to walk, and I was able to get up and move right away. I would have loved to chalk that down to me being unique, exceptionally gifted or whatnot, but the more likely explanation was that it was somehow connected to the mana circulating in my body. Of course, that was pure speculation at this point, but it best matched my overall experience so far. Contemplating the mysteries of this new world, I leaned against the wall to take some weight off my legs. It was tempting to sit down, but I was sure that once my ass was on the ground, I wouldn¡¯t be able to get up any longer. Suddenly, I saw a fast-moving disturbance in the mana flows in front of me. Before I had time to react, a creature, about the size of a cat, but with enormous leathery wings, slammed into my chest. Immediately, sharp claws and teeth started tearing into my skin as I stumbled back in complete shock. With a shriek of panic, I started hitting the thing with my bare hands, cursing myself for dropping both sticks to the ground. Luckily, the creature was not particularly sturdy, and I could feel bones break under my somewhat feeble strikes. Within seconds, the beast tried to disengage and flee, but I was not having any of that. ¡°No way, you fucker. You are dead!¡± I furiously growled while grabbing one of the wings and breaking the bones like twigs. Oddly enough, the creature didn¡¯t make much in terms of noise, apart from furious clicking sounds. Not that I stood around and listened to it. No, I pummeled the shit out of the thing, until it stopped twitching. Trying to catch my breath, I sank to the floor, utterly exhausted. That fight had taken a lot out of me, and the new set of wounds was not helping. Fiercely burning gashes crisscrossed my chest, leaving my t-shirt in bloody tatters and me worse for the wear. What the fuck was going on? First a giant spider and now a giant¡­ bat? Or, at least, something similar to a bat. Unfortunately, Mana Vision didn¡¯t lend itself to providing a detailed image of what I was dealing with. It gave me a rough outline, but that was about it. And the ten-foot radius was not enough to get sufficient warning against surprise attacks like that. But without any light, that was about as good as it got. That said, four extra feet of vision might mean the difference between life and death¡­ reluctantly, I dumped my final two spell points into Mana Vision, bringing the total up to seven. Immediately, I could feel the radius of my vision expand to about fourteen feet, which felt a lot less claustrophobic already. Given the change I had experienced going from four to five points, I was hoping that perhaps at level ten, Mana Vision might get a further upgrade to the level of detail of what I could see. But to get there, I needed to either level up the spell by using it, at least that is what I assumed how it worked, or somehow get a higher rank than the Initiate 1 I had right now. Since I was flat on my ass and needed the break anyway, I decided to check out the changes in my status.
Name Daniel Hollander Rank Initiate 1
Title: Mental Bastion, First Initiate
Strength: 3 [+2] Intuitive Reasoning: 14 Mana Free Current Potential
Agility: 5 [+2] Complex Reasoning: 17 Silver 0 4 10
Speed: 3 [+2] Emotional Intelligence: 9 Black 2 9 10
Dexterity: 4 [+1] Perception: 13
Endurance: 4 [+3] Spatial Awareness: 21 The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Vitality: 7 Willpower: 21
Available characteristic points: 5
Spells
Mana Vision Level 7 [+5] Twilight Vision Level 1 [+1]
Available spell points: 0 [-5]
Skills
Mental Ward Level 1 Mental Fortitude Level 1
Multitasking Level 2 Internal Mana Manipulation Level 1
Meditation Level 1
Available skill points: 0
Well, that confirmed basically what I had thought ¨C my physical stats had already recovered rather rapidly. In fact, it looked like amazingly fast recovery, but since it was unclear what the numbers exactly represented, it was too early to draw definite conclusions. For instance, did a score of one mean that one was as weak as a baby? Or one of the weakest adults? How did that number compare to the strength of a fly? Was there a score lower than one? Was the progression linear, so a person with a score of two was twice as strong as one with a score of one? To answer these questions, I would have to conduct some real research, which, obviously was not an option at this point. What struck me in this latest status screen was that I had now something called free mana. What was that supposed to be? It was not a lot, but anything might help, especially because using my vision spells did consume the mana somewhat rapidly. I had barely used Mana Vision for an hour and already had depleted half of my available silver mana. That was something I had to keep an eye on, so I was not suddenly stuck in the middle of nowhere, or worse, a fight, and lost my ability to see. Which raised the question¡­ how could I recover my mana? Was that an automatic process? Or something that I had to initiate somehow? Questions over questions and no good answers. Studying the character screen some more, I wondered what Meditation did as a skill and if there was some description available for Twilight Vision. As I focused on Meditation, a blue box popped up.
Meditation: You can find internal balance and tranquility. This allows you to gain a deeper understanding of what goes on inside of your body and speeds up the rate of mana recovery when actively used. The rate of recovery and degree of insights depend on the level of Meditation. Meditation Level 1
Well, that turned out to be useful information. So mana recovered automatically but could be sped up using this skill. Since I was resting anyway, I decided to check how fast the recovery rate was if I did nothing and how that would change if I were to meditate. Switching off my Mana Vision, I slowly and steadily counted how long it would take me to recover one point of mana. A long time, it turned out. I had counted to 150, when, finally, the silver mana count increased by one. So about two and a half minutes for each point of mana. Now I repeated the process while in meditation, which turned out to be somewhat challenging, as counting, looking at the status sheet, and meditating at the same time were somewhat conflicting activities. In the end, it took a bit more than two minutes to recharge one mana, which probably was on the lower end, because I had not been able to effectively get into a state of meditation with the various things, I had to keep track of. So, perhaps, conservatively estimated, meditation sped up the recovery rate by maybe twenty percent on level 1. That was a considerable improvement. I just wondered how fast it would be at higher levels¡­ My little experiment had also just demonstrated how much of a difference-maker that title of ¡®First Initiate¡¯ was ¨C without it, my automatic recovery rate would have been, presumably, around five minutes per point of mana¡­. which seemed like an insanely long time. Turning my mind to Twilight Vision, I was met with another blue box.
Dark Vision: You can see clearly in conditions with minimal to moderate light. How well and how far you can see depends on the level of the spell. Twilight Vision Level 1
Well, no surprises there. For the tunnel or cave, I was currently in, it was not useful, because there was absolutely no light, but I could see how this might come in handy in certain conditions. Perhaps it was time to figure out what to do about that free mana¡­ just the wording indicated there was mana that was not free, so, perhaps, bound. And just maybe that referred to mana that was somehow structured, or integrated. I slipped into a meditative state, which had become a lot easier since I had first achieved that feat. Immediately, I noticed the increased amount of black mana, floating around in a diffuse cloud, a stark contrast to the beautifully intertwined silver and black man cycling through my body. Tentatively, I pushed the cloud of black mana toward the cycling energy. As the mana got closer, it slowly began to drift forward, as if there was some gravitational pull in the cycling mana. The black mana started becoming a bit fuzzy and then separated into two strands, each one going to a different type of mana. With intense curiosity, I waited to see what would happen. Once the black mana reached the two mana streams, the flow accelerated rapidly as the force applied on the free-floating mana seemed to increase exponentially. And then, almost quicker than I could follow, the mana was sucked into the two different types of mana and disappeared. The black mana cycling through my body seemed slightly more substantial as if the energy had increased in potency. The silver mana seemed utterly unchanged. Interestingly enough, on the status, it now said that my black mana had gone from ten to eleven, whereas silver mana remained at ten. Scratching my head, I tried to come up with a good theory on what had just happened. But before I could further dwell on this, I had a foreboding feeling that something bad was going to happen. Maybe a sixth sense, if something like that exists. I snapped out of my thoughts, and instinctively leaned my body to the side, raising my truncheon in the same motion. And then all hell broke loose. Out of a sudden, there were creatures all around me, scratching, biting, and even hitting with leathery wings. Only by leaning out of the way in the last split-second, had I escaped the brunt of the attack as the silently gliding bats had been going right for my face. I quickly activated Mana Vision and saw a mass of shapes clawing all over each other to get at me. With a yelp, I rolled back toward the wall to have my back covered and then started flailing around with my truncheon. Given the density of the bats, it was not hard to hit one with each of my strokes, breaking fragile bones left and right. But they kept on coming in a frenzy. There must have been ten or more of those crazed bastards. And the fight turned out one of the scariest experiences I had ever had. Of course, I was not used to fights to the death against wild creatures. But worse, I was only able to make out the shapes of the bat-like creatures in the mana spectrum, which, together with the near silence of the winged predators, made the whole fight feel rather surreal. Despite swinging my truncheon around with the strength of desperation, more and more bats managed to bite or scratch my body. None of those wounds were individually threatening, but I could feel the sum of them taking a toll. I needed to finish this fight quickly. Looking around, I noticed a small fissure in the wall of the tunnel only a couple of yards away. The little alcove seemed just tall enough for a human to back into. Determined, I smashed my truncheon in a sweeping motion into the winged beasts around me. Immediately, I rushed through the momentary opening and threw myself back first into the recess, holding the truncheon up in a guard position to defend against any bats coming after me. Initially, that didn¡¯t deter the crazed flying rodents, and they kept on coming at me with their claws and teeth. But from my position of relative safety, I could fight back much more effectively with bashes of my truncheon against their snouts, teeth, or even bodies. Even though I only had the strength of a kitten, my bashes were still quite dangerous for the bats due to their fragile bodies, breaking their bones with ease. After I managed to knock down and finish two more bats, the others finally backed away, clicking furiously. One by one, they turned around and silently flew off into the darkness. By then, my arms and legs felt like they were full of lead and I could barely stand upright. I leaned back against the wall for support because I was afraid that otherwise, I might just fall. And then my whole body started shaking. Post-combat stress, I guessed, the aftereffects of the adrenalin rush. I took my time to calm down, before eventually deciding that I couldn¡¯t wait in my little nook forever and would have to brave walking further, despite the potential danger of the giant bats. Just in case they were waiting for me I pretended to move into the open, only to turn around and sprint right back into the alcove. With my heart pounding, I strained to see any movement or hear any noise coming towards me, but thankfully, nothing approached, and I was a bit more confident in moving further into the cave. Chapter 12 – Spelunking Carefully, I moved along one wall of the tunnel, scanning my surrounding for any suspicious disturbance in the streams of energy floating around me. Luckily, everything was calm for the time being. While the energy patterns around me didn¡¯t show anything alarming, there was a subtle change in the dampness of the air and the echo from my walking stick hitting the ground, which made me believe that I had entered a vast cave. Even though it felt comforting to know that I was not necessarily any longer right in the path of anything that was traversing these caverns, a big cave area also brought the possibility of stumbling into the habitat of another scary monster. Right about then, I would have given almost anything for some powerful flashlights and a machine pistol or at least a shotgun. As I moved on, the surrounding slowly changed. Instead of just smooth, barren limestone rock, there were traces of dolomite, marble, and gypsum. And then I noticed a tentacle reaching out from the wall, pulsing with dark, green energy. Screaming in a high-pitched voice, I jumped back and held up the truncheon in a defensive position. Heart thumping wildly in my chest, I waited for the inevitable attack, ready for fight or flight. Alas, somewhat anticlimactically, nothing happened. The tentacle was just reaching out into the dark and, as I noticed now, was not even moving. Carefully, I stepped closer and tentatively touched the thing with my truncheon. No reaction. And now, as I was focusing my sight on the surrounding, I could make out more of those tentacles in the dark - they were all over the place, most just at the very edge of my vision. Curious, I tried to make sense of what I was seeing. A giant tentacle monster that was sleeping on the ground and raised its tentacles in the air? I would have noticed something on the floor then. Similarly, the tentacles didn¡¯t reach up particularly high, the furthest perhaps reaching two yards, so it was not from a monster that was clinging to the ceiling either. Which left¡­ what? A single tentacle as a monster? That would be weird even for this new world. Not out of the question, but just too odd. Then again, snakes were basically long narrow shapes that in the dark might look like a tentacle. But snakes would have surely reacted to me touching them with a truncheon¡­ So¡­ plants? It had to be. Nothing else made any sense. And if this new world didn¡¯t follow at least some sensible rules, then I might as well shoot myself already¡­ if I had a gun, that is. Telling myself to stop being a sissy, I stepped forward and touched the tentacle with the back of my finger. The tentacle had a smooth, solid texture, and was relatively cool to the touch. Feeling braver, I moved my hand along the shaft, and quickly noticed small protrusions on all sides, covered with a sticky substance on top. As I looked more closely, I could see small patches of purple, black, green, and grey energy slowly moving in those sticky patches, making me believe that this was some sort of plant that used glue as a flytrap and then subsumed those organisms, either using acid or perhaps mana. With a sigh of relief, I wiped my hands on my pants and carefully made my way around the weird looking plants. While flesh-eating plants weren¡¯t part of my image of an idyllic surrounding, their diminutive size and small sticky patches made me feel relatively safe. It certainly beat giant bats and spiders! And then new varieties of plants entered the picture. And insects¡­ lots of insects, or small creatures, anyway. In fact, the further away I got from the tunnel, the more the cave was starting to teem with life, which made me somewhat uncomfortable. Not that I was afraid of bugs. Well, not as long as I could squish them. But the idea of being swarmed by those little buggers made me squirm inside. Fuck. A fireball, that is what I needed. Blast this whole cavern empty. Scorch all this crap away and have it nice and clean. Of course, I would die in the process, if not from the blast in a contained space then from asphyxiation. But still. Might be worth it. Apparently, the cave was getting to me. In addition to the bugs, there were mushrooms, parts of which glowed in a nice comforting amber color in my mana vision, whereas other parts had a purple shine to them. If it had been just the amber, I might have stepped closer and investigated, but the purple made me keep my distance ¡ª better safe than sorry or something like that. And them shrooms got bigger by the minute. Whereas the first few were the size of a soda can, they quickly grew to the size of a small child and then to about my height.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Carefully, I navigated my way around them and kept on walking along the wall as best as I could. At least no zombies were shambling around in the dark. Keep fingers crossed for that one. ¡°Brrraaaains!¡¯¡¯ I groaned quietly. At first, I had to chuckle a bit at my stupid joke. But then I got worried. What if¡­ I mean, there was magic¡­ Fuck. Better not to think about it. But by then, it was too late¡­ I vividly imagined rotten corpses stumbling out of the dark chasing after me. As if giant mushrooms, flesh-eating plants, hordes of little bugs and, worse, giant bats and spiders weren¡¯t enough. But my focus on the real issues I was currently facing returned in a hurry when I noticed a huge string of¡­ something, stretch out into the darkness. Another plant? Perhaps, but it was enormous. And somehow it didn¡¯t look like a plant. It was as if it had a different structure somehow, and it was not alive. In the mana spectrum if felt more like a rock, or a piece of wood¡­ a small, yet noticeable difference in the amount of mana and its structure in the object. While in living things it felt somehow organic, twisting, turning, moving, in unliving objects it had more of a crystalline structure to it ¨C precise geometric forms of tiny specs of mana. Tentatively, I touched the ¡®thing¡¯ with my hand. It was soft and slightly yielding. Deep in thought, I tapped against it a few times to see how it responded. There was something this reminded me of¡­ And then it hit me. This was part of a freakishly huge spider web! ¡°Shit,¡± I cursed quietly. I was so toast. Immediately, I turned around and ran back along the wall where I had come from. But it was too late ¨C within seconds I could hear the noise of something large rushing after me. ¡°Shit, shit, shit!¡± I muttered while focusing on getting away as quickly as I could. Did spiders have a weak point? From what I remembered, they had less, if any, armor on their abdomen. And¡­ well, that was about all I knew. Generally, you could stomp spiders with a boot, so it really was not much of an issue usually. But that was not going to work so well, with one that was as big as a huge cat or a dog. The noise behind me was getting louder, and the hairs on my neck were starting to stand up. There is something particularly creepy about the rapid skittering noise interrupted by moments of absolute quiet¡­ apart from my huffing and puffing of course and the sound I made stumbling over the uneven ground. Any moment I expected some giant bug exploding out of the darkness onto my back and devouring me alive. A whimper escaped my lips. Why did it have to be spiders of all things? Fuck. ¡°Focus, Daniel. You can do this. C¡¯mon!¡± I hissed through clenched teeth. I needed some sort of distraction to get to the weak point, or a way to ambush the spider. Vibration! Spiders were finely attuned to that, as far as I knew. So perhaps I could use that to my advantage. Since running away seemed futile, I decided to make a stand behind the tallest mushroom I had seen so far, almost a full head taller than myself. I hefted a large stone in my left hand and readied the truncheon in my right. And, holding my breath, I waited for the spider to get closer. The spider approached slowly, almost cautiously, perhaps trying to sense my location now that I had stopped creating a plethora of vibrations. Patiently I waited for the spider to get closer. For once, my lack of real vision might have been a blessing in disguise - all I could really see was the rough outline of a spider, mostly highlighted by the disturbance in the flow of energy around its body, and the black energy that seemed to pulsate through its body and, to a lesser degree, its legs. Seeing anything more, like the hairy legs, bulbous body, or weird eyes, might have freaked me out and make me lose my nerves. When the spider was just a couple of yards away, I tossed the stone right behind it. Immediately, the spider whipped its body around, raising its forelegs to attack. Using the opportunity, I jumped from behind the mushroom and took a massive overhead swing at the joint of one of its hind legs, hoping to cripple and unbalance it. A long shot, perhaps, but the best I could come up with on the spot. The spider noticed my movement, but despite its terrifying speed it didn¡¯t react fast enough - with a dull thud, by truncheon impacted the leg and I could hear a resounding crack. Miraculously, the leg buckled, and the spider wobbled slightly. But then it managed to turn around entirely and struck back with its pedipalps and fangs. And while the pedipalps were quite weak, the spider used them to try and get me closer to its choppers ¨C fangs that very well might have been coated with venom. I slammed my truncheon against the head of the spider, desperately trying to keep it at bay, but the rapid-fire hits by the pedipalps and the spider scurrying around kept me slightly unbalanced. And then it happened. A particularly quick flurry of strikes hit me on my head, momentarily disorienting me, which the spider used to its full advantage - instead of striking again, it pulled me forward toward its fangs. The feeling of the hairy pedipalps on my arms and back momentarily petrified me. Time seemed to slow down, until, with a jolt, my mind suddenly cleared ¨C I knew that my next move, or lack thereof, would determine whether I was going to die or be able to fight back and perhaps emerge victoriously. Freezing up was a death sentence, as was a purely defensive tactic. I had to face the facts¡­ I was too weak and slow to outlast the spider, so I needed to do something unexpected that might gain me an edge. And then I knew what to do. Instead of resisting the move towards the spider¡¯s fangs, I decided to use the momentum and go for where I knew I needed to go - the abdomen. Using the impetus provided by the spider, I dove forward while stabbing with my truncheon at the face of the spider. Instinctively, the spider moved its head back, which was the chance I needed to get underneath its bulbous body. Trying to ignore my revulsion, I jammed the truncheon underneath the head, while crouching down underneath the chitinous abdomen. With my left hand pressed again the smooth and hard surface I abruptly pushed up with all my available force, flipping the spider on its back. A temporary solution, at best, but the opening I needed. With a ferocity that was fueled by, in equal parts, fear, and disgust, I repeatedly slammed my truncheon into the vulnerable abdomen. Whenever the spider managed to gain some traction with its legs and attempted to get upright, I redoubled my effort, hitting viciously at the same spot over and over. Soon, I could feel cracks developing in the carapace, and I started feeling more optimistic about me making it out of this situation alive. Chapter 13 - Ménage à Quatre Suddenly, I felt a slight breeze touch the hairs on the back of my head. Instinctively, I ducked down the tiniest bit, which probably saved my life - what was meant to be a fatal slash for my neck instead hit the lower back of my head. A massive bat had used the opportunity to attack me from behind¡­ but even though it was painful and bloody, it was not a killing stroke. ¡°Fuck!¡± I screamed and jumped toward the big mushroom for some protection. The spider used the momentary reprieve to get upright and promptly scuttled closer, angrily clicking its fangs. Slowly, I backed away from the spider, holding my truncheon out to keep it at bay, all the while scanning the surrounding for the gargantuan bat. Which turned out to be all the distraction the spider needed ¨C with a sudden burst of speed it lunged right at me. Desperately, and relying more on instinct than anything else, I swept my truncheon across and redirected the fangs toward the mushroom. The soft, fleshy stem of the mushroom offered little resistance, and the oversized teeth slid in most of the way. Sensing an opportunity, I began to slam my truncheon at the base of the spider¡¯s head, driving the fangs even deeper into the stem, feverishly hoping that the bat had flown away. Not that there was another choice, really ¨C I needed to kill the spider or hurt it badly enough; otherwise, it would keep on coming after me. Alas, I was out of luck. Sensing the opening, the bat slammed into me, shredding my back with its razor-sharp claws, while taking a bite out of my neck with its needle-like teeth. I realized that this was probably it. Not that I would give up, Far from it. I would fight until my last breath. But there was no way I could combat both of these creatures at the same time under the current conditions. Raging against the inevitable, I hammered my elbow into the bat, while slamming my truncheon into the partially cracked spot on the spider¡¯s carapace. But my hits lacked the strength to inflict severe damage, due to the awkward angle I found myself in. Blood loss from the wounds inflicted by the bat did its part as well, and I could feel my legs and arms slowly turn lethargic and cold. And then, out of the sudden, I felt weightless and stopped caring. So what if my back was shredded by a freaking bat or a spider the size of a dog was squirming in front of me to get its fangs out of the bloody giant mushroom? Death? Suffering? Oblivion? Those were all meaningless words, lost in the warm glow around me, and the comforting softness cradling me like a baby. Wait. What the fuck? What was I even thinking? Was I like¡­ freaking high? It sure reminded me of that. Before I had become a quadriplegic, I had smoked the occasional joint, and it had given me a similar feeling. Only¡­ I had been at a party, a place to relax and have a good time with friends and all that shit. Not like in the middle of a fight ¨C especially one that I was about to lose. But it was such a nice feeling¡­ it reminded me of the summer days with Jolene, my first love. My parents had dragged me to the beach in South Carolina ¨C beautiful, white sand, the water perfectly clear, and nothing to do. And I mean nothing. As a single child, I always had to find people to do stuff with, which usually meant that I had to form those temporary vacation friendships wherever we traveled to. But this time there was no one around, only retirees or people with small children¡­ until Jolene showed up. Slowly, I slid off the spider onto the ground, remembering how Jolene and I had found that spot in the dunes, protected from the wind, and hidden from sight. It was blissful. Her soft lips on my mouth, her warm thighs, slight goosebumps on her arms and legs, the pain in my neck¡­ Fuck! With a jolt, I regained clarity. I was laying on the floor, face pressed into the abdomen of the spider. I jerked my face back, spitting in disgust. And then I noticed a beautiful cloud of dancing lights all around me. Well, perhaps not dancing, it was more like falling lights. Drifting slowly through the air. Like little crystals, some with a bit of an orange tinge, others more of a purple color. I could also see the bat and the spider, prone bodies on the ground. Just like when Jolene and I had fallen asleep that one time, the warmth of the summer sun and the¡­ shit. What was going on? Why were there fucking crystals floating through the air? That didn¡¯t even make any sense. And then I realized that it was not crystals as I had first thought, but instead something more like spores, some glowing softly with amber, others with purple mana. And as I watched, I saw more spores dislodged from the cap of the mushroom, slowly drifting down toward the three of us. And it didn¡¯t feel as if their drifting was random either¡­. It was as if they were sentient.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. As I watched the spores floating down, my mind slowly became more sluggish again, and I felt myself relax. The spores gently touched down on the bodies of the spider and the bat, and I saw mushrooms grow out of them at an unbelievable pace, digging their roots right into the flesh, and I admired the beauty of their structure and the mama pulsing th-¡­ ¡°Goddammit, Daniel. Focus!¡± I cursed in a slurred voice. With a supreme amount of effort, I focused my attention back on the spores. And finally, I managed to move my body ever so slightly. I knew that I needed to get away from the mushroom, otherwise, sooner or later, I was going to get overwhelmed, not to mention the roots that were probably digging into my own flesh as I was laying there. I pushed my will against the calming effect of the spores, imagining all the most violent and horrifying experiences of my life, in an effort to regain complete faculty over my limbs. Halfway, I noticed a blue box popping open, but with a snarl, I swiped it away. Groaning I got on my knees and started crawling away. I knew that I needed to hurry - the spider had already small mushrooms all over its abdomen and head, and the bat had them sprouting right out of its face. After what felt like a hundred yards, but was only three or four at best, I slumped to the ground. Time to get rid of those roots, before I¡¯d become mushroom fertilizer¡­ Wincing from the pain, I reached with my hand to my neck and could feel a bunch of mushrooms growing there, each at a size of one to four inches. My hand was shaking a bit as I grabbed one of them and pulled hard. The pain was excruciating, and I slumped forward to the ground semi-conscious. Bile rose to my mouth, and I spat weakly. Looking down at my hand, I was able to make out a two-inch mushroom with bloody, partially torn off roots. At least I assumed that the viscous liquid covering the roots was my blood ¨C it was hard to make out with my Mana Vision. As I watched, the roots wiggled around, reaching toward the closest food source, which happened to be my hand. With a scream of revulsion, I tossed the tiny mushroom away from me as far as I could. Cold, clammy sweat covered my whole body, and pulses of pain shot into my brain from my back and neck. Whenever the spikes of pain wracked my body, the muscles in my arms and legs spasmed, causing me to writhe on the ground, while groaning in pain. In between the torturous pain, I attempted to come up with a different strategy, since it was obvious to me that I was never going to be able to tear out all of the mushrooms without dying in the process. For that matter, most likely, I wouldn¡¯t even be able to get a good enough grip on the ones on my back to rip them out. I also had to consider the issue of what would happen with those roots remaining in my body. That couldn¡¯t be good either. Would they keep on growing? Or rot in there? Either one would surely kill me in the long run. But then again¡­ I was already on a clock because of the leftover spiderlings in my arm. Which reminded me of how I had dealt with them¡­ perhaps the same was possible with the mushrooms? After some struggle to even out my breathing, I activated Mana Vision and studied what was going on inside of my body. As before, the silver and black mana cycled through my body in a beautiful figure eight. But on my head, neck, and back, I could also see the mushrooms, or rather the amber mana of the root portions of the mushrooms, which were digging ever deeper into my body - most of the roots were already about the length of my hand, and inching their way closer to my heart. Following the same strategy as with the spiderlings, I created a web of silver mana tightly around one of the roots. And then I pushed with all my might to squeeze the fuck out of the thing. And whereas the spiderlings had been tough nuts to crack, the roots felt almost impossible. But screw ¡®impossible.¡¯ It was ¡®do or die,¡¯ and I refused to be mushroom fodder. But no matter how hard I pressed down on the roots, I didn¡¯t manage to kill them. In a bid of desperation, I added some black mana into the silver net, and immediately I noticed a change ¨C I was not sure what the black mana did, but it somehow made the roots more susceptible to my pressure. At first, the only effect was that the roots felt more agitated, but within a couple of seconds, I noticed bulbous swellings develop alongside the root. Encouraged, I pushed even harder, and soon, the nodes started bursting and released soft glowing amber into the surrounding flesh. ¡°Hell yeah! Take that you darn shrooms!¡± I cackled madly, before turning my energy on the remaining roots. A couple of hours later and at the end of my mental and physical strength, the last of the roots popped its amber load into me. Which sounds quite gross, in hindsight, almost like ejaculating, but at the time it was the best feeling ever. I wanted nothing more than lay down and rest, but I was not done yet. The amber mana suffused a good part of my body and slowly moved toward the fulcrum of my mana cycle¡­ as before, I was not sure what would happen if it reached it, but I was afraid that it would be nothing good. And if my past attempt was any indication, this was a unique opportunity to, perhaps, acquire an additional type of mana. Not a chance I was going to miss, especially because, based on my observation when Annie had healed me, amber mana seemed to be related to healing which would hugely increase my odds of making it out of this alive. Using my Mana Vision, I focused on the interaction of the amber mana and the silver mana, and, as before, noticed that they spiraled around each other, but fraying at the edge. In contrast to earlier, the black mana was now also involved in this structure, forming a complicated-looking triple spiral shape. Experimentally, I pushed the black mana toward the amber mana to try and fuse them or let them interact with each other, but it was as if I was trying to push like poles against each other ¨C there was a strong force of repulsion that only got stronger when I exerted more effort. The moment I added silver mana into the mix, the three mana types easily arranged themselves into their beautiful spiral pattern and all I had to do was prod the silver and black mana to follow the amber mana whenever it deviated from the given path. Soon after, the intertwined mana created an irresistible force that sucked the remaining mana into the enhanced cycle. Chapter 14 - The I’tish League of Cities ¡°The I¡¯tish Academy of Magic has confirmed that the new dungeon has fully developed, and the transfer of our starting area has succeeded. I propose a motion to send in a team,¡± Di¡¯Gordan announced in his sonorous voice. ¡°Do we have any additional information?¡± a skinny man with thinning hair and an aquiline nose asked in a sharp, clipped voice. ¡°Like what, Councilman Ja¡¯Kosin? Do we ever have any additional information?¡± Di¡¯Gordan responded, visibly annoyed. ¡°Well,¡± Ja¡¯Kosin drawled with a condescending smile on his face. ¡°For example, when I was the Minister for Dungeons and Foreign Relations, I had good information about the plans of our allies and enemies out there.¡± ¡°You only had that information, because the council had approved your, if I might stress, substantial request of funding for bribes and spy operations at the time. Which, I might stress again, the council did not approve this time around.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be so defensive, my dear friend,¡± Ja¡¯Kosin said with a slight smile on his face. ¡°We are no friends, as you are well aware,¡± Di¡¯Gordan grumbled. Ja¡¯Kosin spread out his arms and smiled winningly. ¡°I hope you are not holding it against me that I look out for my own interests, just as you look out for yours.¡± ¡°Sure,¡± Di¡¯Gordan sighed. Looking around at the remaining councilmen, he did a quick calculation of who was going to support him and who would likely vote against him. Most of them seemed utterly disinterested in the ongoing discussion and were going to go with whatever their faction leader was proposing. And, sadly, with Councilman Bermaldian away, the vote favored his opponents. ¡°So what do you want, Councilman Ja¡¯Kosin?¡± ¡°That is an unfortunate way to express your desire to work together, Councilman Di¡¯Gordan. We are all working for the best of the I¡¯tisch League of Cities against our many adversaries. And surely, you see the value in expanding our northern border against the Kingdom of Winds, right?¡± ¡°So, you are proposing what?¡± ¡°How about we have one joint vote for sending in your pet support team to secure the dungeon and sending out an expeditionary force against the barbarians of the steppe?¡± Ja¡¯Kosin said with a smirk. ¡°Invading the steppes is foolishness, and you know it!¡± Di¡¯Gordan thundered. Ja¡¯Kosin shrugged his shoulders. ¡°Well, I¡¯m not forcing you to vote for it¡­¡± Di¡¯Gordan glanced once more at the faces around him, but they looked on just about as impassive as before. The sole exception was Belmart, a heavyset man dressed in luxurious robes, who grinned mockingly at Di¡¯Gordan when their eyes met. ¡°Very well, Ja¡¯Kosin, I agree with your proposal, with one stipulation¡­ I will receive ten percent of the gains from the dungeon instead of the usual five percent, and neither support financially nor benefit from the expedition into the steppes. Agreed?¡± For a moment it seemed as if Ja¡¯Kosin wanted to argue, but after exchanging a brief look with Belmart he agreed to the terms. A few hours later, Di¡¯Gordan was in his office, facing a lean, tall man, with short-cropped brown hair and a clean-shaven face. ¡°Chad, how are things going?¡± ¡°They are going well enough, milord,¡± Chad responded politely. ¡°Good, good. Listen, Chad, I called you over because I need you to assemble a team to explore a dungeon for me.¡± ¡°A dungeon? I was not aware of any unexplored dungeons that we still had access too. Wasn¡¯t the dungeon GW 988 finally conquered just last wind season?¡± ¡°That is correct. It has taken more than ten years for the dungeon to finally be completely explored. But I¡¯m talking about a new dungeon. Its existence was confirmed by the mage guild a few hours ago.¡± ¡°I¡¯m honored, my lord. But why me?¡± Smiling winningly, Di¡¯Gordan responded: ¡°Chad, I have known you for many years now, and you are a reliable person, which is something I value highly. The stakes are high because there is some squabbling in the council going on. I won¡¯t bother you with the details, but I have a higher than usual investment in this venture. As usual, the council has approved energy for the transfer of up to five people and five standard boxes of gear and other equipment. From my personal funds, I will sponsor an additional two boxes of gear to ensure the success of the expedition. So tell me, can you do it?¡± ¡°Certainly, milord. It would be my honor.¡± ¡°Excellent. Then tell me, who else do you want to take and what is your rationale?¡± ¡°Well,¡± Chad hesitated for a moment before continuing. ¡°My first choice would be Deklajan; he is the best healer I know and easy to work with. We have been on various expeditions together, and he is very reliable. He keeps a cool head, even in the most stressful situations.¡± ¡°Very good. Who else?¡± ¡°Then I need someone that has a good command on offensive magic, so I would like either Julich or Jak¡¯lo. Julich is the more reliable one, but Jak¡¯lo is much more talented, even if mentally slightly unstable at times. Then¡­ I need a melee fighter or two, for which I would like Golgiat and Bree-Ann. Golgiat is the strongest person I know and a skilled warrior, whereas Bree-Ann is a lightning mage that is also a lethal close combat fighter. If either of them doesn¡¯t work, I wouldn¡¯t mind Pungeat or Allmariana instead. From what I know, they have similar skillsets, but I¡¯m not quite as familiar with them.¡± --------------------------------------------------- Slowly, Chad and his team made their way toward the portal. Despite his prodigious strength and hulking figure, Golgiat struggled to pull the wagon filled to the brim with provisions all by himself, delaying the progress of the team.A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. ¡°Bree-Ann and Deklajan, give him a hand already, will you?¡± Chad grunted while lugging a bag full of weapons. ¡°But Chad, we have a bet going!¡± Bree-Ann protested. ¡°Golgiat claimed that he can do it all by himself if need be¡­¡± ¡°You can bet all you want later on,¡± Chad hissed. ¡°But not at the beginning of our mission, when everyone can watch us! Now get to it!¡± ¡°What is the issue with others seeing it?¡± Bree-Ann asked, confused. ¡°Why would we care what they think?¡± ¡°Let them make fun of us, and I will burn them,¡± Jak¡¯lo cackled from behind, eagerly summoning red mana into his hands. ¡°I just don¡¯t want them to see it, alright?¡± Chad said, clearly annoyed. Bree-Ann and Deklajan looked at each other and rolled their eyes, but obediently stepped behind the card and pushed with a modicum of effort. ¡°You know, Chad, you have to relax a bit. I know this is your first dungeon exploration, but it really is not all that hard,¡± Deklajan shouted from upfront. ¡°Shush,¡± Chad hissed, surreptitiously looking around if anyone had paid attention. In contrast to the others in his group, he was well aware of the importance of appearance. He was of minor nobility and had to keep up an image of dignity and authority. Once inside the dungeon dimension, it would be alright to relax a bit, but not before. Luckily, most people didn¡¯t pay much attention to their little group, as it was a reasonably common occurrence for adventurers to band together to hunt for treasure or kill monsters. And since the I¡¯tisch League of Cities was a large country, at least measured in leagues from South to North and East to West, it was often much more efficient to pay the mage guild for a teleport than to travel for many days over dusty roads and incur the expenses for food and lodging on the way. As they made their way forward, Jak¡¯lo sauntered closer to Deklajan and asked: ¡°Hey, Dek, what are those dungeon worlds like? You have been to one, right?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t call me Dek. The name is Deklajan,¡± Deklajan grunted in response. ¡°Sure thing, Dek,¡± Jak¡¯lo responded agreeably. ¡°So? About the dungeon?¡± ¡°Listen, it is Deklajan. Got it? D-e-k-l-a-j-a-n!¡± ¡°Yup, I got it.¡± ¡°-¡° ¡°So?¡± With a sigh, Deklajan finally relented. ¡°I actually have been to two different ones during the last couple of years. From my personal experience and conversations with various other people, there can be a large variety of peoples one encounters - anything ranging from primitive cave-dwellers to bloodthirsty savages, or highly advanced technocrats.¡± ¡°Exciting! Do they usually attack on sight?¡± Jak¡¯lo asked with an eager smile. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Yeah, I mean, are they usually aggressive? How strong are they?¡± ¡°Sorry, usually those people are overwhelmed with the transition to a world that is completely foreign to them and offer limited resistance. There are only a couple of exceptions that I know about - GW 988 and GW 995.¡± ¡°What happened in those?¡± Jak¡¯lo immediately asked. ¡°Well, we don¡¯t know too much about the outcome from those missions, apart from that they had failed. Based on the limited information available, it seems as if the natives had thrown themselves relentlessly at the team the moment they had entered the dungeon world. Eventually, they managed to overwhelm our people and kill them to the last person.¡± The difference in reaction of the four others was telling ¨C whereas Chad nervously gulped a couple of times, Adam¡¯s apple dancing up and down his throat, Golgiat showed no response at all, apart from a brief grunt that could mean anything. Bree-Ann and Jak¡¯lo, meanwhile, looked almost eager to proceed to the portal. ¡°So, what about the dungeon itself?¡± Jak¡¯lo asked after a moment. Deklajan raised an eyebrow. ¡°What about it?¡± ¡°Are they dangerous?¡± ¡°From what I understand, it is a matter of luck. Some dungeons aren¡¯t much more than a couple of caves with weak monsters and little treasure ¨C first-tier dungeons. Others are multi-tier dungeon system with monsters capable of ripping apart most adventuring groups.¡± ¡°And wh-¡° ¡°Enough now,¡± Chad interrupted any further questions. ¡°Let¡¯s focus on getting into the portal, and we will find whatever we find. The I¡¯tisch League of Cities has expanded a lot of resources to stake a claim to this new dungeon, and we are the ones responsible for providing results.¡± ¡°Especially, because the Doran Mountain Alliance is beating us left and right,¡± Deklajan muttered under his breath. ---------------------------------------------------- The portal consisted of a grey metal arch that was coiled around a core of immaculately smooth black stone. The grey metal was covered in a continuous array of runes that were filled with flickering yellow light. The area between the arch offered a distorted view of the pocket dimension that was their target, like looking at the riverbed of a fast-flowing and choppy river. All they could make out was a few hills and plants that didn¡¯t look entirely different from what one might encounter in the I¡¯tisch League of Cities. ¡°Alright, here we are. Golgiat will go first and protect the exit of the portal. I will go second, followed by Jak¡¯lo. Once we have established a perimeter, Bree-Ann and Deklajan will push through the wagon with our equipment.¡± ¡°Aye boss,¡± Golgiat responded stoically, checked that his weapons were in easy reach, and stepped through the portal. The others didn¡¯t hesitate for long, and, within minutes, all five of them stood atop a grassy hill, taking in their new surroundings. ¡°So this is where we will be for the next few months, in all likelihood,¡± Deklajan murmured. ¡°Could have been worse. Temperate climate it seems. Plantlife that does not look overly dangerous and not very different from what we are used to. Down there is the settlement. It looks interesting. Not like our type of architecture, that is for sure. I wo-¡± ¡°Ok, let¡¯s move down to the settlement and see what we are working with,¡± Chad interrupted Deklajan¡¯s musings. ¡°Everyone be on guard.¡± The five adventurers moved down the hill, leaving their luggage behind for the time being. Soon they arrived at a big road that snaked its way down the rest of the hilly area into the village. ¡°Look at those roads,¡± Deklajan muttered. ¡°They don¡¯t seem to be made out of stone, but some other type of material. Perhaps little pebbles compressed tightly? Either way, this is impressive! Much better than our roads that is for sure.¡± Jak¡¯lo spat a big glob of phlegm onto the road. ¡°So what? That does not mean that they are powerful¡­¡± Deklajan stared at Jak¡¯lo with equal parts fascination and disgust. ¡°Is fighting all you ever think about? This is a marvel of engineering! Just think about how quickly carriages could move over a road like this compared to cobblestone.¡± ¡°Yeah, true¡­ but who is going to travel by carriage anyway?¡± Jak¡¯lo said dismissively. ¡°We can always teleport or fly if it is a larger distance.¡± ¡°Only if you have enough money or the appropriate mana type,¡± Deklajan argued. ¡°Are you two quite done,¡± Bree-Ann interrupted in a bored tone. ¡°Let¡¯s move already.¡± As they continued toward the village proper, Deklajan pointed out all kinds of marvels along the way, from the plethora of glass everywhere, to the neat buildings arrayed along the road, and the almost manicured-looking lawns, with grass all cut to the same length ¨C a sight that one would be hard-pressed to find in any but the richest parts of the I¡¯tisch League of Cities. And then there were some strange things as well, or lack thereof ¨C such as the complete absence of horses, carriages, fortifications and the presence of perfectly smooth metal boxes on the side of the road, each with lots of surprisingly sturdy glass and four wheels. And then they met the first native ¨C a man, similar in height to them, dressed in strange clothes and without any weapons, holding some type of smoking stick in his mouth. Rather than run away screaming or attack them, the fellow just stared at them, with mouth slightly ajar. Chad stepped forward and cleared his voice. ¡°Greetings, we are from the I¡¯tisch League of Cities.¡± ¡°The what?¡± ¡°The I¡¯tisch League of Cities.¡± ¡°Uhm, ok. Lake Placid, I guess.¡± After a moment of hesitation, the guy continued. ¡±Dude, where did you get all those sweet clothes and weapons from?¡± For a moment, Chad just stared at him, but then remembered that the man probably had no idea what was going on. ¡°Golgiat, grab him, and let¡¯s get some information.¡± ¡°Wait, what? No way, man¡­. Hey, get your hands off me, dude!¡± Before he could turn around and run away, Golgiat had grabbed the man with a steel grip around the neck and half pushed half lifted him toward one of the abandoned houses next to the road. Chapter 15 – Entering Lake Placid A couple of hours later, Chad looked up from the sobbing man in front of him. ¡°Let¡¯s get moving. I think we learned everything that we needed to know.¡± ¡°What about this pathetic piece of trash?¡± Bree-Ann asked, letting sparks of electricity run along her arms. ¡°Just leave him be,¡± Chad responded. ¡°If he keeps on smoking this weed stuff, he will end up dead sooner or later from the monsters around here¡­ and if he gets serious about survival, well, we can always use more people.¡± ¡°Hmpf, fine,¡± Bree-Ann reluctantly said, before turning around and stomping out of the house. Moving toward the village, Lake Placid the man had called it, Chad considered the information he had obtained. Apparently, the villagers were still in a kind of shock, but there was peace, as the guy had insisted many times. And things were chill, whatever that was supposed to mean. ¡°So what is the plan, boss?¡± Golgiat asked while watching with a bemused smile how the short-tempered Bree-Ann shot sparks of lightning at random animals around them. ¡°Since the villagers have started organizing already, even if loosely, we should establish dominance over the strongest faction,¡± Chad said. ¡°I believe that the bikers are our target for that, especially because their control is based on suppression and violence.¡± ¡°And how are we going to do that?¡± Jak¡¯lo asked, grinning eagerly. ¡°Well, the easiest would be to somehow challenge them,¡± Chad slowly said. ¡°Ideally, they should come to us, and we just give them a bloody nose. That should settle that.¡± ¡°More than a bloody nose, I hope¡­,¡± Bree-Ann immediately groused. ¡°You¡¯ll get your action, don¡¯t worry,¡± Chad laughed. ¡°If this John was right, they are quite the violent type.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t mind some peaceful solution, for once,¡± Deklajan softly stated from further ahead. ¡°Keep in mind that we need these people to form our fighting forces. We only have a few days, before the areas will join, and other nations may then challenge our grounds.¡± ¡°Or the dungeon attacks¡­,¡± Golgiat added. ¡°What do you mean, the dungeon attacks?¡± Bree-Ann snorted. ¡°Are you telling me the dungeon is sentient?¡± ¡°Well, there are different theories out there... Sage Yalond wrote a treatise in GW 923 that postulates that Dungeons must be sentient because the rewards that adventurers get for completing a dungeon level are unusually well matched to the needs and wants of the group for it to be random. This was further supported by an experiment conducted by the Magi Society in, I think, GW 944. Yet others, argue that the dungeon does not adjust the threat to the adventurers and hence cannot reasonably be assumed to be intelligent.¡± Bree-Ann, Jak¡¯lo, Chad, and Deklajan, stared at Golgiat, slack-jawed. ¡°How do you know about all that dungeon stuff, Golgiat?¡± Bree-Ann asked, her voice breaking in disbelief. ¡°You are supposed to be a fighter!¡± ¡°Just because I¡¯m strong, does not mean I¡¯m stupid, lass,¡± Golgiat replied calmly. ¡°Hah, you got me there, big man. But I¡¯m not your lass. Say that again, and I¡¯m going to shoot lightning up your arse, understood?¡± With a smile, Golgiat nodded and kept on walking. ¡°This guy is starting to get on my nerves,¡± Bree-Ann muttered to herself. Chad chuckled. ¡°What is the matter, Bree-Ann? Can¡¯t handle someone that is not as volatile as you?¡± ¡°It is not that. I mean, he is huge. Look at his biceps¡­ it is as big as my upper thigh. He should be thinking about stomping heads, and that is it! Or use his freaking claymore. Who fights with something like that, anyway?¡± As the group moved further into the town, they started seeing additional locals, most of them with similar clothing to the guy they had interrogated. The style of clothing was less interesting than the ridiculous quality of it, though. At home, some of the wealthy merchants, politicians, or, perhaps, successful adventurers could afford soft fabric like that, but here everyone seemed to have a similar quality, even though there was an enormous variety of colors and cuts. ¡°This is a rich world,¡± Deklajan muttered. ¡°I see plenty of potential for the I¡¯tisch League of Cities to benefit greatly from this expedition...¡± ¡°I care more about us benefiting greatly,¡± Bree-Ann snapped. ¡°I¡¯m sure everyone will get some benefit,¡± Chad said calmly. ¡°But first we have to actually manage to claim this dungeon for our nation, which will be hard enough.¡± ¡°You think so?¡± Golgiat asked in a curious tone. ¡°You know that our group is vastly more powerful, level-wise, than the typical team, right?¡±If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°I do...,¡± Chad admitted reluctantly. ¡°But I have a bad feeling about this one, and I have learned to trust my gut feeling.¡± ¡°Hmpf, gut feeling. I see,¡± Bree-Ann chuckled. ¡°I thought you are an ice mage and rational and all that. Aren¡¯t you supposed to only use facts in your decision making?¡± ¡°True, and the fact is that my gut is telling me to worry,¡± Chad responded deadpan. Bree-Ann rolled her eyes. ¡°So what el-¡± ¡°Shush now,¡± Chad interrupted. ¡°Focus on the task. We are getting to the center of the village.¡± And indeed, the houses had gotten closer to each other, and everywhere along the road they could see those strange carriages ¨C John had called them cars. People were walking around everywhere, shooting them curious looks, but not approaching. ¡°Why are they staring at us?¡± Bree-Ann whispered loudly, which immediately caused most of the people to look away, obviously embarrassed. ¡°I think it is because of our clothing and the weapons,¡± Deklajan responded much more quietly. ¡°Have you noticed that few of the locals have weapons? And if so, it is mostly some sort of club?¡± Chad looked around. ¡°Yes, it is quite primitive, which is striking given how advanced some of their things are. I have not seen a single sword so far...¡± ¡°So how do you want to play this?¡± Bree-Ann asked. Chad nodded toward a group of people loitering in front of a sign that said ¡®Best Western.¡¯ ¡°Based on the description by John, that should be them. Just follow my lead.¡± With quick, and now that the action was on, self-assured steps, Chad approached the group of men dressed in dark leather clothes. As he got closer, he noticed that some of them had fabric tied around their head, others wearing glittering earrings or necklaces, and almost all of them with some kinds of tattoos. ¡°Greetings,¡± Chad shouted. ¡°You are just the group I have been looking for.¡± ¡°Watcha fuckers want?¡± A brute of a man asked in a disinterested voice while spitting a huge glob of phlegm at their feet. Chad¡¯s face distorted in obvious distaste as he stepped around the wet glistening goop on the street. ¡°You, my friend, need some manners.¡± The huge man burst out laughing. ¡°Manners? What the fuck do you want, weirdo? Piss off, or I will piss on ya!¡± ¡°Shit, Manny, that was awesome!¡± A fat man with thin, oily hair hanging down all the way to his shoulders shouted while slapping his thighs. ¡°Piss off, or I will piss on ya,¡± he repeated to himself, chuckling. ¡°I would like to see you try,¡± Chad calmly responded. Immediately, the group of rough-looking men in leathers got serious expressions and, grabbing an assortment of clubs, chains, and even an ax, stood up straight, trying to look intimidating. ¡°What did you just say?¡± Manny asked incredulously. ¡°Are you dumb as well as rude?¡± Chad asked mockingly. ¡°I said that I would like to see you try.¡± With a flicker of uncertainty, Manny looked at his fellow bikers for reassurance, before turning back toward Chad. ¡°Look, just fuck off. This is our place.¡± ¡°Are you perhaps afraid?¡± Chad said in a voice that was much louder than necessary. For a moment, it seemed as if Manny considered his options, unsure in the face of such a blatant challenge, but then he noticed all the people from Lake Placid that had been drawn in by the commotion, watching with apparent interest how things were going to play out. ¡°You have it coming for yourself. I¡¯m gonna make you my little bitch,¡± Manny growled, slapping the metal baseball bat into his meaty hands. With a flick of his wrist, he motioned the rest of his group to fan out. Bree-Ann meanwhile lost her scowl for the first time since coming through the portal and grinned in eager anticipation. Similarly, Jak¡¯lo seemed oddly giddy at the prospect of a violent encounter, cackling softly while watching the inept movements of the so-called bikers. Golgiat and Deklajan, on the other hand, looked entirely disinterested in the looming scuffle and were quietly discussing something about weapons. And Chad.... well, Chad was carefully observing every movement, every detail, storing everything away for future analysis ¨C the type of weapons, the tactics employed, the degree of weapons training displayed, the confidence or lack thereof, and more. Perturbed by the complete lack of worry by the group they were facing, the bikers hesitated for a moment. But then, Manny yelled furiously and, almost as one, the bikers advanced at the group of five individuals. What followed was not much of a fight. Before the bikers had taken more than a step, a blast of lightning shot into Manny, dropping him to the ground like a weirdly animated sack of potatoes ¨C mostly limb, but twitching violently every few split-seconds. Meanwhile, a swirling sphere of red energy appeared between Jak¡¯lo¡¯s hands and, within a second or two, shot out toward the shocked bikers. Intense heat rolled off the sphere, and, almost instinctively, the bikers tried to get out of its way. Before they could disperse, the fireball burst into an inferno of flames that set five of the ten remaining bikers on fire. Screaming, they rolled around on the ground, trying to extinguish the flames, only to be stomped savagely by Golgiat, each kick cracking skulls, or caving in ribcages. Chad calmly drew his longsword, a beautiful blade with shimmering runes that attracted the eyes of all the people watching the spectacle unfold. And then the blade got doused in a bath of blood, as Chad slowly, and methodically waded through the bikers still in fighting shape and killed one after another with contemptuous ease. It was not so much that Chad had overwhelming power, or that he was lighting quick. He was fast, but not that fast. It was more that his movements were economical and calculating. Every little opening was used ruthlessly and efficiently. And soon, all the formerly proud bikers were either dead or laying on the ground moaning, clutching feebly at broken bones or wounds gushing blood. Dispassionately, Chad walked up to the three surviving bikers and said: ¡°Tell Big Pete that I¡¯m the new boss in town.¡± Writhing in pain, none of the bikers responded, but Chad was sure the message would get back to the leader of the bikers. ¡°Now,¡± Chad said loudly, turning to the horrified crowd that had watched the fight, or rather the slaughter, unfold. ¡°We are envoys from the I¡¯tish League of Cities, your new overlords. I¡¯m sure you have no idea what I¡¯m talking about, but it will become clear in time.¡± After a moment to let the first part of his message sink in, Chad continued. ¡°Our task is to explore the local dungeon and earn soul energy for the I¡¯tisch League of Cities. And by ¡®our¡¯ I mean your task as well as the task of my team and me. And before you start thinking that you owe us nothing... I have to tell you that you are, in fact, in our debt. You have received your cores due to the investment of the I¡¯tish League of Cities, and the League expects to achieve a good return on its investment.¡± A murmur spread through the crowd, with most people looking uneasy or even scared, and some obviously hostile. ¡°The details of how we are going to achieve our objective will be shared during the coming days after we will have assessed what we are working with. This building,¡± Chad pointed at the Best Western, ¡°will serve as our headquarters.¡± Chapter 16 – Going down On a whim, I decided to move some amber mana to the area where I had suffered the worst injuries from the previous fights. Maybe it would heal my wounds? I didn¡¯t know how this exactly was supposed to work, but just flooding the area of the injury with the amber mana might already do some good. At least, it was worth a shot. Alas, nothing changed. Perhaps I needed some intent or mental image of what I wanted to happen? So far, the only time I had achieved any effect at all, was when I had forced the mana into a specific shape or provided some intent or purpose to it, so that seemed a reasonable assumption. This time, as I pushed the amber mana into the injured parts of my body, I imagined it closing the open wound and speed up the healing process. And, while we were at it, I imagined the mana removing foreign objects from my flesh, such as the remains of the spiderlings, the roots, and dirt from the claws and teeth of the giant bat. Initially, there was some resistance to the mana flow, but then I could feel a warmth spreading through the injuries on my body and the amber mana rapidly diminished until it was all gone. Maybe it would have been smarter to keep some amber mana back in reserve, but once the healing process had started, I didn¡¯t dare stop in the middle, lest it undid all the healing I had managed to accomplish. Not that the amber mana I had sufficed to close all of my wounds, far from it. But at least it muted the pain, and I could feel a bit of tightness in the injured areas as if there were some newly healed wounds. Unfortunately, the somewhat undirected flow of amber mana didn¡¯t remove any of the foreign substances from my flesh. Which meant¡­ that I had to get that stuff out of there. Somehow. I had some more time now that I had amber mana - whenever the flesh would get inflamed, I could simply remove the infection with my amber mana. I had really lucked out there. But even so, that was not a long-term solution. Eventually, I needed to get rid of the source of the inflammation and rather sooner than later. But first, I needed to rest. My arms and legs were trembling from exertion, and I had a hard time forming coherent thoughts. I would have loved to find a nice hiding spot, but there was no way I could run around and search for one. I was completely spent. And it was not only the physical exertion after four years of being wheel-chair bound¡­ no, forcing the mana into images had been mentally extremely taxing. The only thing I managed was to scoot away from the dead bodies, in case they were going to attract predators or dangerous scavengers before I collapsed with my back against the smooth cave wall. ¡°Just a few moments of sitting,¡± I mumbled to myself in utter exhaustion, waiting for my heart rate to normalize. ¡°Just a minute or two.¡± ---------------------------------------------------- I woke up with a throbbing head, sore throat, and the feeling of bile in my mouth. I tried to spit but couldn¡¯t get enough saliva in the mouth to even do that. Water. I needed water. And food. My muscles were cramping from over-exertion, and I could barely suppress a groan of pain. But I was alive, and none of my injuries seemed life-threatening any longer. So what was some pain in comparison to that? No pain, no gain or something like that. Certainly, amber mana had increased my chance for survival tremendously. Curious to see what changes my body had gone through, I called up the status sheet.
Name Daniel Hollander Rank Initiate 1
Title: Mental Bastion, First Initiate
Strength: 4 [+1] Intuitive Reasoning: 14 Mana Free Current Potential
Agility: 5 Complex Reasoning: 17 Silver 0 10 10
Speed: 3 Emotional Intelligence: 9 Black 5 11 11
Dexterity: 4 Perception: 13 Amber 0Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. 10 10
Endurance: 5 [+1] Spatial Awareness: 21
Vitality: 7 Willpower: 21
Available characteristic points: 5
Spells
Mana Vision Level 8 [+1] Twilight Vision Level 1
Minor Healing Level 1 [+1]
Available spell points: 0
Skills
Mental Ward Level 1 Mental Fortitude Level 3 [+1]
Multitasking Level 2 Internal Mana Manipulation Level 2 [+1]
Meditation Level 1
Available skill points: 0
And there it was¡­ the mana. Of course, I had known that I had amber mana, but to see it in my stats sheet felt somehow sweet. I couldn¡¯t help but grin a bit. I had also gained some additional black mana from killing those bats, but it seemed somehow little. The first bat I had bashed to a pulp had given me two black mana¡­ and I was sure that I had killed at least another four bats, if not five. Did that mean that there were diminishing returns to killing subsequent monsters of the same type? Or a first monster bonus? Or something else at play? If given a chance, I would have to check into the stats immediately after I killed the next bat. That type of information was perhaps of minor relevance right now but would be hugely important in the long run. Thoughts of leveling into some superhuman monster slayer crossed my mind before the next cramp in my legs brought me right back to reality. Shit. I was so fucking dehydrated. Maybe I should drink the blood of the bat or the¡­ no, not the spider. I couldn¡¯t even think about doing that. Gross. But either way, I would need a new giant bat for that. The one from the last fight was probably all filled with spores or some other crap. Trying to take my mind of those revolting thoughts, I quickly scanned the rest of the stats sheet, noticing that I had gained a new spell ¨C Minor Healing. Which was huge, if not unexpected. Time to get up and try to get out of here¡­ the faster I managed that, the less likely that I had to play a vampire and suck some creature¡¯s blood. Wasn¡¯t blood even poisonous for a person, at least in larger quantities? My memory was a bit hazy on that one, but I was not too excited about experimenting with my life on the line. With a groan and plenty of curses, I lifted myself to my legs and slowly stumbled along the walls, direction spider web. I fervently hoped that there had been only one spider there, the one that was now dead. Were spiders solitary? I had no fucking clue. In fantasy stories, they usually came in large nests, so my imagination had the whole cave crawling with them. Thinking about eight-legged shapes flitting around in the darkness, spinning webs to entrap me, caused my heart to thump wildly in my chest. Cold sweat covered my forehead and soaked through my torn t-shirt, and I had to exert all my willpower to keep on moving. I don¡¯t know for how long I struggled through the darkness, jumping at the slightest sound or movement, but it felt like an eternity. All the while, I could feel myself getting weaker. While I had rested earlier and even napped, it had not been a restful sleep, and my injuries were far from fully healed. Near catatonic, I only noticed the hole in the ground the split-second before I fell in. In my defense, I was relying on my Mana Vision spell to see things that were there ¨C a hole is the absence of anything, and it just didn¡¯t register in my tired brain before it was too late. Waving my arms wildly to find any purchase, I slid down a steep slope of dirt, pebbles, and probably batshit. After a few scary seconds, I ended up laying on my back in what looked like a tunnel. I had not passed out, no broken bones, no open wounds, almost anticlimactic. But I took it. Taking a closer look, I realized that what I had assumed to be a tunnel was actually more like a hallway - there were tiles on the floor, and the walls and ceiling were way too even to be natural. Obviously, I couldn¡¯t see any color, but even with Mana Vision, it was clear that there were some patterns or ornamentations on the walls and the floor. Slowly, I pushed myself back to my knees, and from there, holding on to the wall, I managed to get up onto my legs. Slowly, wincing at every other step, I stumbled along the wall in the one direction that was available. After what felt like an eternity, but probably was only a few hundred feet, I came to a 4-way intersection. I looked into each direction, trying to figure out which one to take. Wait, air draft. Wasn¡¯t that what one was supposed to do? Light a flame and see in which direction it would flicker. Good thought, but I had no flame. If I had, I would have eaten glorious bat shashlik already. Plus, I already knew that there was an exit where I had come from, just not one that was usable for me. After staring into each tunnel waiting for inspiration to hit, I finally decided randomly to go to the right. Always go to the right, so you don¡¯t get lost, or whatever. Only that I had no idea where I was in the first place, so it didn¡¯t really matter. I shuffled into the right tunnel and shortly after came to a sharp corner, which was when I first heard the noises. And then I noticed the heavenly smell. Food! Immediately, my stomach started growling. Eagerly, I stumbled around the corner and almost ran face-first into a barrier. At first, my brain couldn¡¯t comprehend what it was facing, but then I realized that I was standing in front of a solid door. A small gap at the bottom let through a tiny sliver of golden light. My first instinct was to bang at the door and call for help. I was desperate for water and food, and a safe place to rest and all that might just be behind that door. But then I thought about the bikers and how they had just dumped me into a ravine in the wilderness ¨C fellow humans, but without a shred of decency and compassion. And there was no guarantee that it would be humans behind that door. This was a different world¡­ maybe there were indeed zombies somewhere. I shivered slightly at the thought. Feeling like a peeping tom, I kneeled and pressed my eye against the huge keyhole. And I was sure glad that I had decided to be cautious. I saw a big room, at least 8 by 8 yards, with boxes and barrels stacked on top of each other on one side, and what looked like a kitchen, replete with pots, knives, and other utensils on the opposite wall. And there was the source of the delicious smell ¨C a couple of giant bats were turning on spits over a fire pit, fat slowly drizzling down into the flames. Involuntarily, I licked my lips as I stared at the deliciously smelling meat. Who knew, that bat meat could have such an aroma¡­ But then a grunting noise distracted me from my singular focus on the food, and I noticed, partially hidden behind the crates, a smallish humanoid creature, albeit with gray skin, mottled with a green tinge and a strangely elongated, pig-like snout. And it turned out that there was more than one. As I a watched, another three or four of them, they were hard to tell apart, appeared from behind the crates to do¡­ something, before returning to their original spot. What the heck? Mutated people with dwarfism? Or perhaps humanoid pigs? Going with fantasy lore, they looked very much like¡­ goblins or kobolds. Different books described them differently, so I was just going to stick to goblins. Goblins¡­ Really? I pinched myself, and then rubbed my eyes, which made me realize that I had seen perfectly fine without Mana Vision. In fact, it was almost as bright as in a well-lit room in a modern American home, despite there being no windows. I took another look through the keyhole and now noticed that there was a massive chandelier hanging from the ceiling, with a bunch of crystals glowing in a soft white light that provided plenty of illumination for the fair-sized room. And the goblins were still there. So it was not a bad dream, after all. But I shouldn¡¯t judge a book by its cover, I reminded myself. Maybe they were nice little goblins¡­ I chuckled quietly at the thought. Fat chance that they were friendly. So far, everything I had encountered in this new world was murderous, even some stinking mushrooms had tried to kill me. And, true to the trend, the goblins confirmed their fantasy reputation quickly ¨C as I watched on, I saw several vicious fights break out without any obvious reason. And it wasn¡¯t just some scuffles either. No, those were fights to the death. Chapter 17 – The Door I was a little bit at a loss on how to proceed. I could just turn around and take a different hallway, maybe avoid the goblins altogether. And I probably would have done just that, if I had had food and water. Alas, I didn¡¯t, and the goblins did. So, I had to take it from them, simple as that. Not that I enjoyed the idea of stealing stuff, but I figured that just asking or begging was plain stupid ¨C based on the goblins¡¯ displayed behavior, they were going to attack on sight. I just needed the right opportunity. Maybe I could have just brazenly moved into the room and grab some meat, but, despite the small size of the goblins, I didn¡¯t trust myself taking them on all at once in a fight. While I was bigger, I was not in any fighting shape, had no weapons, and had no idea how many of those little buggers were out there. And, frankly, I would rather avoid fighting them in the first place. Perhaps my moral compunction of simply killing other sapient beings was stupid, but I was not ready to go out there and snuff them out for some scraps of food. Not yet, at any rate. So I sat down and began to wait. Not one to waste time by just sitting around, I took the opportunity to experiment a little bit with my mana. The first thing I wanted to figure out was what happened if I incorporated mana into my mana cycle. My last experiment had already shown that it did matter where the mana went ¨C black mana going to silver mana didn¡¯t have any impact on my mana pool, whereas black mana going to the black mana cycling through my body translated into a one to one increase in the mana potential in my body. Was this a particular feature of silver mana that it didn¡¯t take on black mana? If so, then putting black mana into the amber cycle was perhaps going to have some type of effect. Slowing my breathing, I started to get into a meditative state and slowly pulled a small portion of the diffuse black mana toward the amber mana rushing through the figure eight in my body. Only with great effort could I get the black mana to do my bidding ¨C it was as if it was some type of living, untamed organism that I needed to bring under my control first before I could do anything with it. Once the black mana touched the amber mana, things suddenly went quickly. Within a split second, the black mana disappeared, wholly assimilated by the amber mana. I stared at the spot for a couple of seconds, waiting to see any effect, but nothing was visible. And then I checked my status screen and noticed that there was absolutely no change in amber mana. I scratched my head. So¡­ what did that mean? Since I only had two mana types, any conclusions were slightly premature, but based on the given evidence¡­ black mana would only go to black mana, but not to other mana. It could be somehow absorbed by the other mana types because it clearly disappeared, but it didn¡¯t do anything, or at least not enough to be noticeable. Perhaps something would change if I used a larger quantity, but I was not ready to risk my limited mana just to find the answer to that question. Of course, I was assuming that putting black mana into the black mana cycle would still gain me a one to one increase in mana potential¡­ at this point, pure conjecture. Immediately, and somewhat worried, I tried the same procedure, but this time attempted to add the free-floating black mana to the black man cycle. Things proceeded somewhat more smoothly, even though there was still substantial resistance I had to overcome for the black mana to do as I wanted. To my relief, once the black mana had been successfully absorbed by the mana cycle, the status screen showed a corresponding increase in mana potential by the remaining four points I had had available. I quickly checked the room if anything had changed, but everything seemed about the same - the goblins were still hanging around, occasionally turning the spits over the fire, and otherwise sitting on their asses grunting at each other in their guttural language, only interrupted by the occasional fight. So what to do with my mana? Seeing stuff was awesome, and kind of a precondition for survival in a dark cave system, but, hopefully, it was not all I could do with silver mana and black mana. Of course, there was healing as well, which was extremely important¡­ but overall I sorely lacked offense and defense. Perhaps I could somehow harden my skin? Or create something that repelled attacks? I drew the silver mana out toward my skin, covering everything in a thin layer. Immediately, my whole body started glowing in an eerie, silver light. Suppressing a curse, I instantly stopped what I was doing ¨C not a good idea to be shining like a Christmas tree in a hostile surrounding. That said¡­ tentatively, I pulled the silver mana once more to my skin, but this time stopped casting Mana Vision ¨C there was no visible glow from my skin any longer.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. I breathed a quiet sigh of relief and started investigating the impact of distributing silver mana in that way. First, I hit myself on the leg, to see if I had gained some type of armor, resistance, or anything of that sort. Alas, there was no noticeable difference, at least none I could tell. It hurt, and that was about it. I took a small splinter from my walking stick and cut and poked myself, at the off chance that it was a shield against cutting or piercing damage, but not blunt trauma. But all I got for my efforts was a few small, bloody wounds. Out of ideas, I let the silver mana slip away and repeated the process with black mana. And now, rather than my skin starting to glow¡­ it felt as if it became strangely mottled, infused with moving shadows. For a moment I got worried that this might actually hurt me somehow, like a hex I had involuntary cast on myself, but I didn¡¯t feel any discomfort or pain and hence decided to repeat the previous sequence of tests. Unfortunately, the black mana left me just as vulnerable and soft as the silver mana ¨C meaning it didn¡¯t do shit. So perhaps instead of a skin enhancement, I should create some sort of shield or a weapon? For either one, the first step would be to get the mana to manifest outside of my body. Somehow. That would be the fundamental building block for any cool magical skill that went beyond enhancing my own body. I mean, that was already plenty cool. Who does not dream of becoming invisible, or creating some type of shadow armor, or making oneself super strong? Well, perhaps not everyone dreams of those things, but I certainly did. I decided to first try with my silver mana because it had been the easiest to handle so far and it ought to do something other than just giving me some fancy 20/20 mana vision, right? I pushed the mana down my arms, into my fingertips, and then tried to make it go outside my body from there. I could feel the mana flowing in the right direction, slowly accumulating in my fingertips, swirling, full of silky energy, but no matter how hard I pushed, the mana was not leaving my body. After a few minutes of cursing quietly and pushing until I got a headache, I gave up and decided to give it a shot with the black and amber mana instead. With the exact same result. After another twenty to thirty minutes of fruitless experimentation with the mana, I heard a commotion from the other side of the door. As I peeked through the keyhole, I saw a somewhat bigger goblin, dressed in boots, a kilt, and a leather armor strut through the room with a scowl on its brutish face. The other goblins in the room were visibly afraid, scurrying out of the way, and making high-pitched whimpering noises rather than their previous guttural shouts. After surveying the room for a moment and, to my annoyance, grabbing one of the spits of succulent giant bat from the fire, the goblin barked an order, turned around and left my field of vision. Immediately, the other goblins started rushing around, some grabbing weapons, while others ran toward the crates, opening them somewhat haphazardly, and rummaging around their contents. It almost looked as if some of them were getting ready to leave, whereas others were responsible for providing provisions¡­ Not exactly what I would have expected from goblins. Frankly, I would have thought them to be just savages without organization at all¡­ but there it was, rudimentary division of labor, specialization, and perhaps more. Or perhaps it was just random actions - it did look rather disorganized. Either way, once the armed goblins would leave, that would be my chance. I would still face odds of one against four perhaps, from the looks of it. But I thought I might be able to handle that, especially if I could get hold of a weapon. And, hopefully, I would have the element of surprise. A couple of minutes later, things quieted down again, and I got ready to make my move. Gently, I pressed down on the door handle, careful to avoid any unnecessary noise. And then I slowly pulled the door. It didn¡¯t move an inch. And pushing didn¡¯t do anything either. Shit, I was so screwed. The door was obviously locked, and there was no way I could break down the sturdy, metal-reinforced door with the tools I had available. I sank down to the floor, resting my back against the door. What now? Maybe I could pick the lock? It was, after all, not like a modern security lock. At most two or three tumblers. So, all I needed to do was plug in some wire or metal pieces, lift those tumblers, and the door would be open. A piece of cake. At least, based on the movies I had seen. The hero usually would plug in a bit of wire, wiggle it around and, voila, a minute later, the door was open. Of course, I didn¡¯t have any wire. Nor did I have any metal pieces at all. All I had were my cane and my truncheon, sneakers, light pants, and a mostly torn t-shirt. After a moment of hesitation, I took off my t-shirt, wrapped it around the cane, and then snapped the stick over my knee. Despite the t-shirt blocking a lot of the noise, the cracking seemed as loud as thunder. With heart hammering like crazy in my chest, I crouched down, ready to run or fight at a moment¡¯s notice. But for once I had lucked out ¨C none of the goblins seemed to have heard the noise and neither did I hear any clicking or clacking noise that might indicate spiders or other giant vermin from further down the corridor. Carefully, I unwrapped my t-shirt and found what I had been hoping for ¨C the wood had not snapped cleanly but had left some jagged pieces that I could break off and hopefully use as makeshift lock picks. Not the best tools, but you gotta play the hand you have been dealt. Hoping for the best, I stuck the pieces into the lock and moved them around, trying to catch something that I could move. Of course, I had no fucking clue how to do that, so the whole exercise was pretty pointless. And I felt that slowly but surely my time was running out. Any minute, the other goblins might come back, and I would be stuck behind this door until I starved to death. Perhaps I was getting a tad melodramatic, but the situation was somewhat dire. Where was the magic key that opened all doors when you really needed it¡­? Wait. Magic. I quietly cursed myself for not thinking about magic sooner. It was not as if I had a magic spell ready to go that would deal with my problems¡­ but both black and silver mana provided some vision so far, and maybe I could tweak that a bit to look at the inside of the lock. Not something I would bet my life on, usually, but I was kind of out of other options. I was only getting weaker, and exploring the rest of the hallways randomly if food and water were known to be behind the door seemed even riskier. No, I needed to get into that room. Chapter 18 - Food Unsure how to start, I tried again to manifest my black mana outside of my body by pushing it into my fingertips and then trying to force it out, somehow. But, as before, the black mana would just accumulate in my fingertips and do diddly squat beyond that. It was vexing, to say the least. ¡°C¡¯mon, please,¡± I pleaded quietly, wiping the sweat off my forehead. All I needed was just a freaking¡­ whatever, like foam or something to push into the lock to ¡®feel¡¯ its contours. ¡°C¡¯mon, you fucker¡­ do something, just a cloud¡­ or anything,¡± I hissed almost inaudibly while pushing with all the will power I could muster. To my surprise this time something happened - I could feel the mana rushing down my arms, into my hand and finger and then pouring out of my body, in dark, inky tendrils that started forming a cloud of shadows in front of me. At least, that is what it looked like with my Mana Vision. ¡°Hell yeah,¡± I whispered, admiring the shifting tendrils of black energy twirling around each other. I was not sure what this thing did, but¡­ for the first time, I had succeeded in forming mana outside of my body! And the key seemed to be the simultaneous exercise of intent and will. Focusing on the cloud of darkness in front of me, I could feel¡­ something, like a faint sense of touch? I was not exactly sure what it was, but maybe it would do the trick. And best of all, I felt that I still had control over the black mana and was able to move it around, even though it was outside of my body. Gently, I prodded it to move into the lock and the moment the first tendrils touched the metal, I could¡­ feel it. It was a strange sensation, to be honest. Like as if my body was there, yet not there. And the sensory feedback I received was extremely detailed. I could perceive the unevenness in the forged metal, the slight indents from a hammer perhaps, and even the granulation of the metal. The moment I pushed the mana inside of the lock, a ridiculous amount of information flooded my brain leading to absolute sensory overload, perhaps comparable to multiple people speaking to me simultaneously, while watching several different movies at once and having hundreds of bugs crawling over my body. Desperately, I tried to control the information entering the brain, like installing some sort of filter. I really didn¡¯t need to know the composition of the metal or every little indent ¨C all I needed was a three-dimensional map of the inside of the lock to identify the position of the tumblers. And while that was hard, it got worse when I started moving the splinters inside the lock to try and lift those pins¡­ talk about hardcore multitasking. The first couple of times I tried, I lost focus, and immediately the cloud of black mana started dissipating. Eventually, though, I managed to somehow compartmentalize my brain so that part of it was controlling the mana cloud and filtered the incoming information, while the rest was dedicated to fiddling around with the stupid little sticks I needed to lift the tumblers. I felt like a freaking multicore computer, each part processing different things. I was no locksmith, so it took me a bit of trial and error, and lots of swearing about the splinters that kept on breaking, to figure out how to actually open the lock, but ultimately, I succeeded ¨C with a soft click, the last tumbler moved, and the door was unlocked. After making sure that no goblin was in sight, I grabbed my trusty, bat-blood covered truncheon, and quietly opened the door. Cautiously, I closed the door and darted behind the crates. Luckily, the guttural sound of the goblins¡¯ arguing masked the noise of my feet shuffling over the floor. Carefully, I peeked through the crates to see what I was dealing with; five goblins, all a bit more runty than the ones that had left, were sitting in a rough circle, taking turns throwing bones on a small table in the middle. Goblins playing a game of dice¡­ what the hell? Maybe they were more human than I had figured. The moment I started humanizing them, two of the goblins began arguing about a particular roll of the bones. Quickly, the argument descended into a solid brawl, with one goblin grabbing the other one around the throat, while the other attempted to gouge out the eyes of its assailant. And it didn¡¯t stop there. A third goblin got tired of the distraction, grabbed an ax, and hacked into the neck of one of the fighting goblins. Blood spurting, the goblin collapsed to the ground and quickly stopped moving. Just watching the scene unfold, I got sick to my stomach ¨C the casual violence, the complete disregard for each other¡¯s life¡­ and then it got worse. The surviving goblin grabbed a dagger and cut off one of the ears of the dead body, only to casually chew on it with a savage grin on its face. Bile rose to my mouth, and I had to suppress the urge to violently throw up. Those little fuckers didn¡¯t deserve to live. Bloody savages. Maybe I was judgmental, no respect for goblin culture or whatever¡­ but fuck that. Making sure that there were no more goblins around, I grabbed my truncheon tightly and rushed soundlessly toward the group of four grey-green manlings. Before they even noticed me coming at them, I bashed my truncheon with all the force I could muster on the head of the goblin with the ax. Its skull caved in, and the goblin collapsed on the spot. For a brief moment, the other goblins stared at me slack eyed, before starting to run screaming all over the place. Cursing, I grabbed the ax from the floor and jumped after the goblin to my left, who had trapped itself against the pile of crates, desperately trying to claw its way through the boxes and barrels. With a shout I brought the ax down on its shoulder, partially cleaving him apart in a shower of blood.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Meanwhile, the remaining two goblins had used the opportunity to run toward the door on the other side of the room and slip out of the room, all the while screeching in utter panic. Shit, that didn¡¯t go as planned. In fact, there had been no real plan¡­ but I had hoped that the goblins would stay and fight. Instead, they immediately ran off and were probably getting reinforcements. For a moment, I considered running after them, but despite their small stature, I didn¡¯t feel that I was their match in terms of speed, considering my still wobbly legs. Instead, I ran over to the fire pit, grabbed some of the giant bat roast and what looked like a gourd of water and made my way over to a weapon rack with a few rusty swords, daggers, and axes. I dropped the ax and instead equipped myself with a sword and a pair of daggers, each coming, luckily, with a fitting sheath. And then I heard the noise - shouting, the clanging of metal on metal or on stone and the trampling of boots on the ground coming this way rapidly. Looking longingly at the crates chock full of useful stuff, I turned around and dashed back to the door I had come through and off into the dark hallway beyond. While running, I drained half of the gourd of water and immediately felt immeasurably better ¨C dehydration is no joke. Tearing into the skewer of giant bat meat, I almost couldn¡¯t suppress the moan of pleasure the fatty meat elicited. It was tender, succulent, and ¡­ just heavenly. Who would have thought that a bat could taste that well? I would have loved nothing better than to just sit down, rest, and slowly eat the rest of the meat while occasionally sipping from the gourd. And sleep. Oh my god, just a good rest after stuffing my face... that sounded so tempting. But I could already hear the door to the corridor bang open, and furious screeching echoing down the hallway. In the distance, I could see the flickering light of torches coming down the corridor into my direction. Cursing, I tried to speed up, but my legs just wouldn¡¯t do it. My body had taken a significant amount of abuse during this past day, and it was a miracle that I was even able to run at all - but my body could only take so much. A couple of seconds later, first one, then a second torch suddenly flew past me and skidded along the ground for a couple of yards, spraying sparks all over and releasing a cloud of thick, oily smoke. Before my exhausted brain could comprehend why the goblins were throwing torches down the hallway, the guttural shouts changed in pitch and suddenly sounded a lot closer. Stumbling on, I looked over my shoulder and saw one of the goblins, barely ten yards away raise its arm to throw a spear at me. Immediately, I threw myself to the side, avoiding the spear by mere inches, at the cost of a bruised knee that further hampered my movement. While the weapon slid over the tiles of the hallway into the dark, another three goblins raised their melee weapons, and, torch in hand, raced closer to me, screaming wildly. I put my head down and ran as fast as I could - overtaxed muscles protesting and partially cramping up, but fear propelling me forward. I might be able to deal with three or four goblins, after all, they were like oversized children in stature¡­ but I was afraid that more would be joining in soon and perhaps even those oversized goblins. The further away I got before I had to engage in a fight, the better my chances. Clearly, the goblins were catching up to me. I could hear their boots and bare feet slapping against the stone and their eager grunting. My shoulder blades started itching, as I was expecting the piercing pain of a spear in my back any moment. I had to change something and fast. When we approached the four-way crossroad I had passed on my way to the kitchen, I spread all my remaining black mana evenly over all of my body, right underneath the skin, just as I had briefly experimented with in front of the door. Would it do anything? I had no fucking clue. But it couldn¡¯t hurt either. Abruptly, I turned to the right and immediately flattened myself against the wall while pulling my sword. Maybe the black mana would give me some type of camouflage, perhaps it wouldn¡¯t ¨C for all I knew, it just made me look funny... but either way, I had to fight; otherwise the goblins would just slaughter me from behind. The goblins skidded around the corner, each one eager to reach me first. Their bloodthirsty expression turned to one of confusion, when they stumbled into the new corridor and, apparently, couldn¡¯t spot me right away. Their eyes darted from left to right, but, somehow, skipped over my body without realizing that I was there, right at the edge of the light of their torches. Rather than wait for them to find me, I jumped forward and stabbed the first goblin in the chest with my sword, while kicking the second one in the groin. Despite their obvious surprise, the two remaining goblins recovered quickly. The shorter of the two dived toward my legs, brandishing a long, wickedly sharp looking dagger, while the other one raised its spear and stabbed at me from a distance. I managed to deflect the tip of the spear to the side but was a little bit too slow to entirely evade the dagger of the smaller goblin ¨C the razor-sharp edge slid along my leg, cutting a long and deep gash into my upper thigh that immediately started to bleed heavily. ¡°You fucking little runt,¡± I cursed while slamming the pommel of my sword on the back of the head of the goblin. With a sickening crack, its skull caved in, and the goblin dropped to the floor like a stone. Distracted by the gory sight, I failed to deflect the second stab of the spear, and I suddenly felt blinding pain from my stomach. With almost detached fascination, I looked down and saw the tip of the spear buried deep inside my gut. With a gleeful cackle, the goblin first twisted and turned the spear inside of my intestines, sending flashes of pain through my whole body, before it slowly pulled the spear out of my flesh, almost as if it was savoring the moment. When the tip of the spear emerged, blood squirted out from the hole that the spear had left behind, quickly drenching the tattered remains of my t-shirt and spilling down on my pants. The pain was unimaginable. My knees buckled, but I refused to go down. I took a step toward the goblin, clenching my jaws and grinding my teeth to distract myself from the pain. The gleeful expression on the face of the goblin partially disappeared, and a look of uncertainty crossed its ugly visage. And then I took another step. Maybe I was going to die¡­ but I was not going to go quietly. The goblin took a step back, its mien showing first traces of fear. Quick as lightning, my hand shot forward and grabbed the spear, immediately jerking it toward me. And the poor goblin, holding on tight, was pulled right along. When the goblin was in reach, I slashed down with my sword, severing its right arm, right at the elbow. With a shriek of pain, the goblin stumbled backward, but I was not going to give it the chance to escape. A sideswipe of the sword cut deep into its thigh, causing the goblin to fall to the ground, whimpering, before a downward chop cut off all noise forever. Panting heavily and barely standing I surveyed the carnage ¨C three goblins dead, and one scarcely conscious, both hands pressed against its groin. Slowly, I made my way over and, with a quick cut of the sword, ended the nasty business. I had triumphed¡­ but at a high cost - two painful injuries, one of which deadly if left untreated. If any more goblins were to show up before I could work some healing mojo, I was in big trouble. Chapter 19 – Kill’Em I sank to the floor, too exhausted and in pain to move further away. I needed some rest, and I had to do some healing. After taking another drink from the rapidly depleting gourd of water, I first attempted to create makeshift bandages. First priority had the stomach wound, which was gushing blood with every heartbeat. It was not exactly a fountain of blood, but I couldn¡¯t afford to lose that much that quickly. Yes, amber mana should allow me to heal some of the damage, hopefully enough to survive, but I needed time for that. And I was not sure if amber mana could replace blood. I ripped apart the sorry remains of my t-shirt and, with a grimace on its dirty appearance, created a few bandages to hold against my wounds. They immediately soaked full of blood, but it was better than nothing. Despite the reduced bleeding, I could feel myself getting lightheaded and weaker by the second. There was no time for subtlety, so I simply pushed the amber mana into the stomach area with the image of healing the gaping wound ¨C it was ad hoc and lacked any detail in the image, so I didn¡¯t expect a considerable improvement. But it had to do. Given the blinding pain and the time pressure, I simply couldn¡¯t afford to dabble around trying to improve the efficiency of the healing. Immediately, the pain lessened substantially, and I leaned back with a sigh of relief. A few minutes later, I took off the bloody rags to peek at the wound and saw with amazement that it was partially closed and crusted over with scab. Shaking my head, I leaned back and took a few deep breaths, trying to ignore the metallic smell of the copious amounts of blood, and the odor of piss and shit coming from the goblin corpses laying uncomfortably close to me. Unable to move, I was just sitting there, trying to regain the energy to start moving again. And there was no way to avoid the sight around me¡­ four dead goblins, illuminated by the flickering light of the torches they had dropped to the ground. Four deaths that I had caused. Sapient beings. And two more in the other room. Just like that, I had ended six lives, snuffed them out like candles. And I had nearly paid with my own life. For what? A skewer of meat and some water? Was that the value of a life? Sure, I could argue that it was them or me, or that they were savage brutes, just as likely to kill each other as dying by my own hands¡­. But the fact was that I had been the executioner. So many deaths since I had come to this world. With a pang, I realized that I had not even thought about my parents at all during these crazy last couple of days. I hoped that they were fine and didn¡¯t grieve too much. Knowing my mom, though, she would be crying her heart out. At least I was glad that they had not been in Lake Placid yet when all of this happened¡­ not sure how they would have handled things. Which made me think of all those people in Lake Placid that had lost loved ones to monsters and the threshold criteria of whatever magic had transported us to this world. I didn¡¯t have kids myself, luckily, so I could only imagine how terrible it might be for those grieving parents. And I strongly suspected that those kiddos were stuck in the netherworld, likely for all eternity. A shiver ran down my spine just thinking about that empty space and the lack of meaning and identity of those souls trapped in there. I had not shared my harrowing experience with anyone but Annie, deeming it none of their business. And, perhaps, it was a blessing of ignorance for those that indeed had lost someone - better to have uncertainty than to know for sure that something terrifying had befallen your loved ones. Fuck those depressing thoughts! Where did all that come from out of the sudden anyway? Killing a few goblins made me melancholic? Those fuckers had it coming for them. Sapience or not¡­ it was them or me. With a groan, I slowly lifted myself off the ground. All told, my muscles felt surprisingly good. Weak, yes, but it almost looked as if my arms and legs were getting some definition, which was ridiculous, since just the previous day they had been all flaccid and flabby. Soon I might be able to flex in front of a mirror again and actually see something move! I had to chuckle at the image in my mind. Of course, that depended on my getting back to civilization at some point¡­ So, I had to get moving. It was just a matter of time before more goblins would show up. So far, I had been lucky. And, of course, that jinxed it. I could hear the door to the kitchen slam against the wall of the hallway and a menacing voice shouting guttural commands. The noise of metal scraping on metal, and many sturdy boots hitting the ground painted a grim picture of my chances for survival. Running was out of the question, with my leg injury and the low energy level. So my only chance was to somehow hide. Based on the reaction of the goblins during the previous fight, pulling the black mana into my skin was a fairly effective way to camouflage myself, at least as long as I was not right next to some light. I grabbed one of the torches and tossed it as far as I could down the third corridor as if I had rushed down that hallway and dropped the light on the way. Hopefully, that would split the group and give me a chance. Then I rolled the bodies of the dead goblins on top of the remaining torches, filling the hallway with the smell of burning flesh and a lot of smoke from singed hair and burned clothes ¨C ideal for me to hide in plain sight. I covered my skin with black mana, and, gagging slightly, draped the bloody and smelly bodies of two of the goblin corpses over my chest and legs. Just in time, it turned out. Not even a second after I stopped moving, the first goblins arrived at the intersection, milling around the area. Thanks to their uncaring nature, something I had counted on with my risky gambit, they mostly ignored the dead bodies of their fellow goblins, which allowed me to remain unseen for the time being.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. The goblins were mostly armed with swords, daggers, or axes, and a few of them even wore a random assortment of ill-fitting pieces of chainmail and boiled leather. After a few seconds, I was getting worried that the goblins would just stick around, but then the largest goblin in the group, about a head taller than the average goblin, with broad shoulders, and a massive sword, at least relative to the goblin¡¯s size, barked several commands in his rough guttural voice and the group of goblins split up in groups of five, each going into a different hallway. Clearly, my attempt at fooling the ugly cretins by throwing a torch down one of the corridors had not worked as well as I hoped. I held my breath when the group of goblins rushed past me, but evidently shouldn¡¯t have been worried ¨C they caused such a racket that it drowned out all other noise and any glance in my direction simply skipped over my body as if I was not there. Luckily, torches are pretty poor sources of light, contrary to common D&D rules or Hollywood movies. And the flickering light actually played into my hand, because it made my camouflage of shifting shadows that much more effective, especially when surrounded by other bodies. Unfortunately, the big goblin had stayed back together with two smaller sidekicks. I had hoped that perhaps I might be able to slink back toward the kitchen and get out through the other exit there, avoiding all the heavily armored goblins, but to do that, I had to get through the big guy and his two cronies. Quietly. Which seemed a long shot. But it was not as if I really had much of a choice. And if I couldn¡¯t do it quietly, I had to do it quickly, instead. Carefully, I wriggled my way out from underneath the goblin corpses and, crouching next to the wall, sneaked slowly toward the intersection. The large goblin stared into each of the hallways, one after another, and periodically cocked his head to the side to listen for any noise. Perhaps he was waiting for a sign of the goblins having found me, maybe it was that he was wary of an attack. But regardless, I was sure I could still get the first attack in, because no matter how prepared he was, if I came jumping out of the dark, at most he¡¯d be able to defend. And I needed to make that first strike count because I absolutely couldn¡¯t afford to have a drawn-out scuffle. Once the big guy was down, I hoped that the smaller ones would be easier pickings, or even run away. My body was shaking slightly, perhaps from nervousness, or maybe the rush of adrenalin, or possibly because I was fucking weak. As I was getting closer, my temple began to throb, and I got a kind of tunnel vision, locking in on the heart of the goblin, trying to will my weapon to cleanly strike a vital spot and end the fight before it would even begin. And then the shit hit the fan. The group of goblins down my passage must have found something because they started shouting in the distance. Immediately, the big goblin grabbed its sword and jogged into the corridor, straight toward where I was, followed by the other two. And I acted like a deer caught in the headlights ¨C I just stood there, frozen in shock. Thoughts raced through my brain, as I was trying to figure out what to do. Hide? Too late. Run away? I would get caught between the goblin and the group further down the passage. And it was only three goblins after all¡­ so I had to fight! And, ultimately, it played into my cards that the goblin was moving ¨C he was going to be slightly less alert and be making noise himself, masking my approach. All of this went through my head within a second. And then it was time to act. I jumped out of the shadows with the sword aiming straight at the goblin¡¯s chest, but he was a lot faster and alert than I had expected. He turned slightly to the side, and, rather than impaling him through the heart, my sword skidded off his metal shoulder pauldrons, leaving only a shallow scratch on his upper arm. Before I could lament my poor execution, his riposte slashed toward my head, and I had to contort my body awkwardly to bend out of the way. The sword whistled a hair¡¯s breadth over my head and smacked into the wall ¨C which was my chance. Instead of lunging at his chest, which he clearly had expected, I rushed past him and slashed my sword down into the back of his poorly protected leg, cutting through ligaments and muscles. While that was not a killing stroke, it would take the goblin out of the fight for the time being, which was all I could really hope for. The goblin grunted in pain, immediately tried to turn around and tackle me, but instead stumbled and fell to the ground when its leg gave out. I didn¡¯t stick around to finish the goblin, but instead turned around and put my sword in a guarding position in front of me. And none too soon. The other two goblins raced down the hallway right at me, screaming wildly and brandishing their weapons, a rusty dagger for one and an ax for the other. More than a head taller, I had the advantage of reach over the two goblins, but that would only help me against one of the two. Before I could decide on a good plan of action, the two goblins were on me. I tried to keep them at bay with the tip of my sword, stabbing at either one coming too close to me. And after I had managed to poke one of them in the chest, causing a thin trickle of blood to run down its shirt, they stayed back, neither one willing to take an injury just so that the other one could get through. We were at an impasse. If I had been in top shape, I was sure I could have taken them without too much difficulty. Alas, I was not, so I struggled to just keep them back. At the moment, the goblins were faster than me, and, it seemed, slightly weaker, but had, obviously, no formal weapon training ¨C their idea of an attack was simply to stab or chop, irrespective of the angle they were at. But there were two of them. Even worse, the sudden movements had opened many of the wounds I had suffered previously, and I could feel blood slowly seeping through what few clothes remained on me, which, at that point, was pretty much my pants and socks. The pain was a distraction, and I could feel the blood loss making me slightly light-headed again. The longer this fight was going to last, the smaller my chances for coming out of this victoriously. So I had to go for it. I fainted high on the goblin with the ax. Predictably, it raised its weapon to deflect the blow. The other goblin saw the opening I had provided and lunged at me with its dagger stretched forward to stab me in the side. Which was what I had expected. In the last moment, before my sword would have clanged uselessly against the shaft of the ax, I whipped it around and cut the attacking dagger-yielding goblin across the side of the neck, causing it to instantly collapse Rather than try to move my sword back en garde, I used a sidekick on the ax-goblin¡¯s unprotected abdomen to give me the precious second I needed to get back in position. At least that is what I tried to do. The moment I was lifting my leg for the roundhouse kick, I felt a body slam against my other leg, throwing me off balance ¨C the big goblin had gotten back into the fight at the worst possible moment. Cursing, I flailed around with my arms to try and keep my balance, but to no avail. At least, I managed to fall on top of the big goblin and slam the pommel of my sword into the back of its head in the process, temporarily dazing it. Before I was able to use the tip of my sword for some real damage, I heard a grunt from the other goblin and saw from the corner of my eye the ax descending rapidly toward my head. I managed to lean back just a tiny bit and, instead of splitting my head, the ax blade carved a deep gash down my cheek, before hitting the big goblin underneath me with almost full force, cleanly separating its spine. This was fucking hilarious. Despite, the wounds, the pain I was in, and the stress of being in a life-and-death situation, I had to laugh. Which probably came out as somewhat deranged, especially with blood pouring down my face. The ax goblin stared at me with bulging eyes and slowly backed away, whimpering. Laughing even louder for the sheer weirdness of it all, I stood up and raised my sword menacingly. With a screech, the goblin dropped its weapon, turned around and ran away as fast as its short, spindly legs could carry it. Chapter 20 – A Look Around Sweetwater, Texas ¡°Trixie, where are you?¡± Alison whispered, eyes frantically scanning the rubble of the building. There was no sign anywhere of her cousin, but she was sure that she had been inside the building when the tornado had hit it. A tornado out of nowhere, seemingly conjured by one of those insect men, or Albarnese as they called themselves. Alison looked around nervously, before dashing to the other side of the pile of debris. ¡°Trixie!¡± she whispered again, as loudly as she dared to, but there was no response¡­ just the chirping of the birds, unconcerned by what had transpired here a few minutes earlier, and the ubiquitous background noise of the cicadas. And the occasional scream in the distance, closer to the center of Sweetwater, where most of the fighting, if one could call it that, took place. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Mertesdorf, Germany Daniela was sitting next to her brother, sobbing quietly. ¡°Peter, hast Du gesehen was die Darkalves mit Thomas gemacht haben? Der hat doch gar nichts angestellt! Nur eine Frage gestellt¡­¡± ¡°Ich weiss, Daniela. Ich weiss,¡± Peter responded soothingly while petting her arm awkwardly. He did not know what else to say. Since the change a couple of days ago, everything had been different. Suddenly, people had mana, and there were monsters, giant apelike creatures that could rip a grown man apart within seconds. And the flying serpents, with their acid glands capable of dissolving even concrete and steel. And then, of course, there were the Darkalves¡­ at first, people had mistaken them for elves, from the stories. They had beautiful features, and tall, lanky bodies. But, contrary to the stories, they were far from friendly. Or fair. Or just. And they liked blood. Fresh. And apparently, human blood was a delicacy. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Unknown area The massive beast ponderously made its way through the marshy terrain, ignoring trees and towering ferns alike as it bulldozed a new path through the dense vegetation. It was colossal, even for its own kind, with a shoulder height of fifteen feet and a length, head to tail of fifty feet. Large, brown-grey scales, hard as steel covered its body, leaving little of it unprotected. Perhaps the tiny eyes were a vulnerability or the slightly softer scales on the abdomen, but it had not encountered anything that seriously could threaten it in its three hundred years of existence. So it was understandable that it did not spare the three-foot-tall, wingless, birdlike creatures a second glance. They were new to the area, an unknown species to the lumbering giant. But so small that they were almost beneath its notice. Until it felt suddenly weaker, feebler than it could remember ever having been. With a roar, the beast turned its head, scanning the area for whatever was assailing it, ready to crush to pulp any challenger to its might. But it was too late. Darkness began to cloud the beast¡¯s mind and just like that the majestic creature perished. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Utterly exhausted, I sank to the ground, trying to regain some of my strength. I knew it was a matter of minutes, if not seconds before I had to start running again, but I desperately needed that break ¨C my legs were like jelly and when I tried holding my arm up to check for injuries, it trembled like leaves in a strong wind. I looked at the carnage I had wrought, feeling revulsion and pride warring within me at the horrible sight. But despite my misgivings about snuffing out so many lives¡­ I did not regret it too much. In fact, I had felt alive during the fights, more alive than¡­ I did not even know¡­ than ever? The adrenalin rush of pitting my skills against some brutish monsters, in a fight to the death, was something I never had quite experienced before. And yes, there was panic, fear, desperation as well¡­ there had been already multiple situations in which I had thought that I was done for. But I had pulled myself out of those tight spots and could credit no one but myself for it. And, frankly, that felt pretty darn good. Well, sure, there was also some luck involved ¨C the goblin with the ax hitting the big goblin just so that it severed the spine, my fall down the ravine with only a few bruises and cracked ribs to show, the intervention of the mushroom that ultimately saved my life¡­ and many more. It was not something I should rely on in the future, because luck is a fickle mistress¡­ all the more reason to get stronger and be able to get out of tight spots without relying on providence. ¡°Alright, Daniel, you can take a nap later,¡± I grunted and got up on my feet. Wincing in pain, I gingerly I touched the cut in my face. I could feel a gash going all the way from my temple down to the side of my mouth¡­ not particularly deep from the feel of it, but bleeding profusely and stinging like a bitch. ¡°Fucking goblins,¡± I grumbled, already imagining the huge scar I was going to have in my face. Unless amber mana healed wounds without leaving a scar¡­ something else I did not know yet. Either way, it was clear that I needed some solid rest to recuperate and recover my amber mana. The sooner I healed all my wounds, the better my chances. And I still had to somehow take care of the roots and spiderling remains¡­ As I was standing there, trying to figure out what to do next, I felt a weird, yet strangely familiar, tingling sensation around my chest area. Curious, I activated Mana Vision and immediately, it became clear what had caused the sensation¡­ a thin stream of red and green mana, originating from the dead goblins all around entered my body.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Mana¡­ just what I needed. The only downside was that it was not amber, which was what I needed the most - and if my hypothesis from before was correct, mana of other colors would not really help in gaining any additional amber. But then again¡­ maybe red and green mana could be transformed into amber. Who the fuck knows. I would have to experiment more when I found the time. And if not¡­ adding green and red mana to my repertoire would perhaps add some useful options. But right then and there it was not the time and place to further speculate on this question. First, I had to get my ass out of here - the last goblin had gotten away and probably was going to bring more of its brethren and then there were those other groups of goblins still roaming around. Right on cue, I could hear the clanging of metal on metal and the stomping of feet getting closer from the other two hallways, leaving only my current corridor or the kitchen as possible escape routes. For a moment, I hesitated over where to go, but then took a firm grip on the handle of my sword, and moved swiftly, at least as much as my physical condition permitted, toward the kitchen. Yes, the escaped goblin had run into that direction and was probably getting reinforcement already, but the alternative was, likely, worse ¨C the group of goblins further off into the darkness had fought something and based on the lack of noise coming from that passageway, they had lost. If I was fast enough, I might make it through the kitchen area before other goblins showed up and manage to hide somewhere¡­ at least that was the hope. Which meant that the quicker I got my ass there, the better my chances. Using a weird shuffling gait, I arrived at the kitchen within a minute, at most. Not far behind, I could hear the shouts of the goblins, probably trying to figure out what had happened after seeing the carnage I had left behind. Any minute they would rush this way¡­ I needed a fucking hiding spot. Frantically, I scanned the kitchen, but there was nothing suitable. In a pinch, I could crawl into the pile of the crates and arrange them around me, but that would take time, and if any of the goblins would get something out of a barrel or box, they would surely notice me. No, I had to move on. The door leading out of the kitchen was open, and I quickly hobbled into the hallway beyond. The passageway seemed to be mostly identical to what I had seen previously, with tiles on the floor and the ceiling, and smooth walls left and right. This time, however, the corridor was brightly lit by what looked like crystals set into the stone walls every few feet. And with the bright light I could make out, for the first time, the detailed artwork covering the tiles on the ceiling, and the intricate patterns of the stone carvings on the walls ¨C something I had thought of as chisel marks, turned out to be some impressive ornamentation. Despite the somewhat faded colors on the tiles and the partially chipped off gold filigree, the place spoke of former grandeur and glory. What was this? Freaking Atlantis buried under the Adirondack mountains? That made no fucking sense. And I was pretty sure that Native Americans had never built anything like this either. And, for that matter, someone should have discovered this kind of structure a long time ago. Either way, I could not afford to twiddle my thumbs, because the goblins were right behind me ¨C apparently, at least some of the goblins had figured that it was best to search the kitchen area for me. With renewed vigor, I slowly jogged down the hallway, barely suppressing groans of pain. I had a few seconds at best to get out of there. Ahead, I could make out the passageway widening to about double the width, with alcoves on both sides, each with what looked like elaborate statues about the size of a human. The corridor ended in huge double doors made out of dark wood, reinforced with bands of black iron. As I approached the end of the hallway, I heard guttural shouts from beyond and a thumping noise that rattled the door, as if something heavy had crashed against it. And then the door began to open. Immediately, I threw myself in the narrow space next to one of the statues and covered my skin with black mana, hoping that I was not too late. Within split seconds, the door fully opened and hit the side of the wall with a resounding bang. And then a group of six heavily armed goblins rushed out, trampling over the poor goblin that I had fought, all the while shouting angrily in their language. And as if that was not enough, I could now see what was beyond the doors¡­ a huge room full of goblins. There had to be thirty or forty of them. I was so screwed. Even in peak physical condition, I¡¯d not be able to take on more than perhaps six goblins at once. Small as they were, they still had weapons, and all it took was one good stab or slash, and that was it for me. And I was far from being in my best condition. With a conscious effort, I calmed myself down ¨C panicking was not going to get me out of this pickle. The goblins had not noticed me yet, so nothing was lost. And as long as my black mana lasted, I could hide behind the statue and figure out a solution to the situation. Trying to get somewhat comfortable, and failing miserably in the tight space, I decided to use the time to try and recover some mana. It was a bit tough to meditate under the given circumstance, but I managed at least a little bit. Before I had even fully recovered my mana, I heard the loud bang of a door slamming shut from the kitchen area and then the noise of many boots hitting the ground and coming closer. Quickly, I made sure that my skin was fully covered in mana and stood stock still, praying that the goblins would again just walk past me. When the goblins got closer, I stared in shock at their condition ¨C every single one was covered in bruises, abrasions, and open wounds from head to toe. That must have been a major scuffle they got into. And, according to my calculation... there had to have been at least sixteen goblins out on that side of the kitchen, but in this group, there were only eight of them, including the six heavily armed goblins I had observed leaving just a few minutes earlier. Maybe the other goblins were still out there, but I doubted it, given the condition these goblins were in. Interestingly, the goblins wore their wounds rather stoically ¨C instead of groaning, wincing, or, at least, whining, they only occasionally grunted at each other in, what seemed annoyance or anger. Somehow, that made them even less human to me than any of their other behavior. And perhaps that was a good thing too because I had to figure out a way to kill another forty or fifty of them to get out of here. Unless they were going to leave any time soon, but I doubted that was going to happen. The brief glances I had gotten through the double door, had given the impression that the goblins were permanently living in that room ¨C filthy beds in a disorganized chaos, crates, haphazardly stacked on top of each other, clothes spread to dry on lines crisscrossing the room and all kinds of other details that indicated permanent living quarters rather than a temporary shelter. Once the goblins had passed my location, with barely a glance directed toward any of the statues, I took a deep breath. Time to figure out a plan. One option was to get back to the cave on the floor above and try to find another exit. But the thought of getting deeper into the cave system, possibly teeming with spiders, quickly shut down that thought. There were also two more corridors to explore, one of which, perhaps both, had some type of monster that had chewed up the goblins pretty badly ¨C not a great option either. Other than that¡­ the venting shaft in the kitchen? Probably that was too small. Or I had to deal with the tribe of goblins on the other side of the doors somehow. Could I perhaps use poison? Or smoke? While tempting, I was not sure how to go about actually doing that. Unless¡­ Carefully, I got out from behind the statue and made my way back to the kitchen area. Once there, I started digging through the crates full of equipment that were haphazardly piled on top of each other, while carefully listening for any noise of approaching goblins. At first, all I could find were random things one might need for a kitchen or dining area, such as pots, and pans, silverware, knives, vases, candles, and a host of other utterly useless garbage. Well, garbage might be an exaggeration. Some of the stuff was actually pretty nice ¨C the vases were intricately crafted, and the silverware was made out of actual silver, it seemed, including some small gemstones in the handles of a select set of them. For a short moment, I was tempted to grab it all and make a run for it¡­ but where would I run? And what would I do with silver forks and spoons? So I tossed the things aside with ever-increasing urgency. I needed instead¡­ and there it was: a pile of sturdy burlap sacks. Fingers slightly shaking in relief, I grabbed them and checked briefly for holes. Not wanting to stretch my luck even more, I hobbled out of the kitchen into the dark hallway setting out to implement my plan ¨C a plan that was either ingenious, despite its simplicity, or was going to get me killed rather quickly. Chapter 21 - Gobshroom A couple of hours later, and covered in scratches, dirt, and even more bruises than before, I stumbled back toward the kitchen, dragging three sacks behind me. It was slow going, mostly because I was utterly exhausted, and the bags were unwieldy like hell. But sometimes one just needs to push through. Luckily there were no goblins in the kitchen area, so I was able to quickly cross right into the wide hallway that led to the room filled with the little savages. Anxiously, I listened to any noise that would indicate the goblins getting ready to move out, ready to bolt at any moment. Not that I would get very far if that happened. I was realistic enough to know that my chances were close to nil if all forty of those savages or even just ten of them came out of that room chasing toward me. Hell, even five might do me in. That said, despite my exhaustion, I felt that my physical stats had improved further, continuing the incredible speed at which I was building up muscle mass and coordination after having been stuck to my wheelchair for four straight years. Once again, as I had done frequently during the last few hours, I raised my arm to just watch it move. Curling the fingers one by one, marveling at the movement of the muscles underneath my flesh. Granted, not that much in terms of muscle, but infinitely more than just a couple of days earlier. Just watching the movement was mesmerizing and gave me a jolt of pleasure. And that positive energy was what allowed me to keep moving. Many times during the last hours, I had been tempted to sit down and take a break, relax for a while, or perhaps even sleep. But I knew that that was likely a death sentence. If not the goblins, then some other monster was probably going to pass by and gobble me up as a nice afternoon snack. Or an evening snack. I had lost track of time a long while ago, and who the fuck cared anyway. Finally, about ten yards from the room with the goblins, I softly dropped the sacks to the ground and arranged them bottom-up next to each other. Slowly, I released the strings that were keeping the bags closed, careful to not leave any openings between the sack and the ground. Sweat started to appear on my forehead as I meticulously prepared my trap. After an endless-seeming five minutes, everything was arranged in a way that I thought would maximize the impact. Slowly, I made my way toward the double door, sword at the ready. Heart pounding, and with a mouth that suddenly was extremely dry, I gently opened the door and peeked through the narrow gap. And there the goblins were. From the looks of it, they were having a feast. A giant bonfire was burning in a fire pit in the middle of the room, and about forty goblins were sitting around, mostly eating or drinking, but some also fornicating or sleeping. And over a spit turning over the fire was their meal. Just one look brought bile up to my throat, and I had a hard time suppressing the urge to throw up. It very much looked as if they had a human as their entr¨¦e. Seeing the nasty gobs roasting a human over the fire like some odd piece of meat, made me realize once more that any mercy or empathy I might have been feeling towards the goblins was surely misplaced. This was a scourge that needed to be removed from the face of¡­ well, from wherever we were now. Probably it was not earth any longer. Perhaps that was speciest, but so what. Now how best to attract the attention of all of them? Kill them. Or at least one of them. I patiently waited until one of the goblins came close to the doors. Once it had turned its back toward me, I quietly open the door wide enough for me to sneak through, and launched a lightning-quick sneak attack from behind. The goblin never knew what hit it. My sword pierced its heart, and without much noise, the goblin fell to the floor and died. I could make out a bit of commotion from the assembly of goblins and suspected that some might have seen me already, but I needed more of an impact. With a quick chop, I separated the head of the goblin from its body, grabbed it by its greasy hair and tossed the disgusting package in a wide, blood-spraying arc into the middle of the bunch of goblins, while screaming loudly that they should go fuck themselves. Not that I expected them to understand me¡­ but style is style. With that, I turned around, jumped into the hallway, and slammed the door shut behind me, before running down the corridor. It felt as if I was slower than a fucking turtle, but it seemed as if it was going to be enough, even if only barely. Seven meters in, the door banged open, and the previously muted blood-curling screams of rage from the goblins suddenly hit me full force. I stumbled for a step, but then the feeling of imminent doom caused a huge adrenalin spike that supercharged my system and made me forget all about my pain and injuries. With a quick couple of steps, I was next to the burlap sacks and tightly grabbed the rough material in my hands. I sharply kicked each bag, and then jumped forward, pulling the sacks along so that the content was revealed. Not waiting for the effect, I ran a few steps further, before I turned about to see the result of my plan¡­ to say I was nervous was an understatement. Either I was going to die a painful death within the next few minutes, or I would deal with most of the goblins with one simple little trap¡­Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Sword in hand, useless as it would be if I ended up having to fight, I watched a cloud of amber, and purple-shining spores billow out from the newly revealed giant mushrooms, filling the width of the hallway with their calming dreams. The cloud was thick enough to almost wholly shield the crazed horde of creatures rushing toward me from my view, so all I could do was watch and wait. And hope. Idly, I wondered what the goblins would be dreaming about. Surely, it was not visions of a romantic outing with a sweet girl, hidden somewhere in the dunes¡­ And then the first goblin stumbled into view. I grabbed my sword tightly, ready for a last stand; prepared for a last hooray of man against abhorrent monsters. As much as I wanted to live, I knew that I was hopelessly outmatched. But I was going to be defiant to the last moment, ready to wet my blade in the blood of a few of the vile creatures, before being overwhelmed. But then I noticed that the goblin was smiling stupidly, its grin splitting its ugly face into a parody of the Joker from Batman. Giggling, it sat down on the floor, picking its nose with one hand, while rubbing its tummy with the other. And then I saw the mushrooms sprouting from its bald head, and out of one of its strangely elongated ears. Soon, another two, then three, then five more goblins joined the first, sitting down without a care in the world. Slowly, I relaxed my death grip on the sword and wiped my sweaty hands on my grimy pants. This had been a tense moment. Facing certain death, only to find out that, after all, the trap had worked as planned ¨C not for the faint of heart. As the spores slowly settled down, I had to chuckle. A huge pile of goblins was bunched right about where I had pulled off the burlap sacks from the giant mushrooms that I had dug out in a painfully slow process during the last two hours. Some of them were moving around feebly, while others were in a catatonic state, trapped in their own mind. I had taken a calculated risk multiple times while preparing and springing the trap. First, when I dug out the mushrooms I assumed that there would be minimal spores when not directly damaging the stem of the mushrooms and the few that might be triggered, I had expected to be able to resist. And it had worked out as I had hoped. A few times, the spores managed to trap me in some type of memories for a brief time, but it was something that I could overcome, thanks for my skills and the title ¡®Mental Bastion,¡¯ I suspected. The next risk had been whether the mushrooms would still trigger those spores, even if not in their cave surrounding, but I had taken a smallish one down first, to try it out and it seemed to work the same way. Lastly, I was not entirely positive whether the spores would be enough to take out the large group of goblins, but it seemed as if should not have worried too much. The goblins were sleeping peacefully, and I could already see roots starting to settle on their bodies. What a lousy way to go. Perhaps¡­ With a few quick chops of the sword, I cut holes into the burlap sacks at my feet so that I could put my arms and head through and cut another one to use as head protection. ¡®Armored¡¯ like that, I moved cautiously closer to the goblins and mushrooms. I needed to take out the mushrooms eventually anyway because otherwise, I wouldn¡¯t be able to pass the hallway later on. And if I was already going to do that, then why not now and take the mana from all those goblins that were laying around like forty-plus little Easter mana eggs. Perhaps a callous attitude, but hey, they were already basically dead. And they were eating humans, so¡­ As I neared the mushrooms, the effect of the mushrooms started setting in. I felt¡­ I felt like that day in Belize, at the beach. Just me, the wind and sun, out there with a kayak, paddling to a remote island. The gentle waves lapping against my boat. Orange, floating roots fall- wait, what? Shit. This stuff was insidious. But by now, I realized much more quickly that something was wrong. So, apparently, I had improved in resisting mental effects. Quickly, I checked my character sheet to see if this was indeed reflected in my stats or just a figment of my imagination. And indeed, there it was¡­ Mental Ward and Mental Fortitude had both increased by one. There were a ton of other changes as well, but I felt this was not the time to stare at a blue box in my head, while roots tried to dig through the canvas into my flesh. That said¡­ as long as I could fend off those visions and keep the roots from using me as fertilizer¡­ this was the perfect training ground for me! If I was serious about getting stronger than I needed to take those opportunities. So with some apprehension, I refrained from chopping down the mushrooms and instead got into a more comfortable position. Soon enough, I was hit by additional memories and dreams but, especially because I knew what to expect, it got easier and easier to resist the influence of those nasty shrooms. Not wanting to wait until the goblins all died due to root-infestation, I eventually got back on my feet and slowly moved from one Goblin to the next, ending each of their lives with a clean stroke of the sword. Truth be told¡­ it did not feel good doing that. It was too mechanical, too cold-blooded somehow to slaughter them when they were utterly defenseless. Not that they would not have killed me without a second thought in a similar situation¡­ but I was not them. Thank goodness for that. But I steeled myself and finished the task, hoping to gain a ginormous amount of red and green mana. Mentally I was already dreaming about throwing huge fucking fireballs all around me, incinerating goblins, spiders, mushrooms and whatever other nasties there might be. And, a green¡­ well, whatever green mana might be useful for. Once I was done with my bloody task, I looked back at the mushrooms, considering my options. I could train a bit more my mental resistances, but I felt that at this point, it was getting too easy to avoid being ensnared by the visions sent by the spores. The effect on my skill leveling was, therefore, going to be limited. But perhaps I could¡­ After a brief hesitation, I let one of the remaining spores land on my arm, and I watched the root slowly dig into my flesh. It was fascinating to see that at the point of burrowing, there was almost no pain¡­ the amber mana seemed to serve as a sort of local anesthesia. Once the root took hold in the flesh though, the pain was excruciating. Quickly, I proceeded to crush the root, just as I had done before and tried to absorb the amber area of influence that had ended up in my body. Unfortunately, that did not work at all this time around. I tried all kinds of different approaches, with varying combinations of mana, pushing and pulling at the mana but to no avail. So apparently, subsuming mana that had become part of my body worked to gain a new core, but not to increase the amount of mana in my body. Which was a bit of a head-scratcher, but good to know anyway. And secretly I was glad that this did not work¡­ otherwise, I would have had to force myself to endure the incredible pain of being stabbed by those roots for hours upon hours, in the hope of increasing my amber mana count significantly. Sometimes it is nice to have fewer options. Life is easier then. Chapter 22 – Pussycat Surveying the battlefield, if one could call it that, I noticed again that mushrooms were sprouting all over the haphazardly scattered goblin corpses. Roots seemed to almost eagerly lap up the spilled blood, and the stipes and caps started growing at a pace visible to the naked eye. Soon the hallway would be one massive mushroom field, and I couldn¡¯t even imagine the density of the spore-cloud this could create. Mental resistance or not, I wouldn¡¯t want to go through that if I could avoid it. Even more, the spores by themselves would be a significant hazard because it was hard to cover myself perfectly from head to toe - I did not fancy the idea of roots digging into my eyes and ears. And then it hit me. I should be able to farm the mushrooms and grind my amber mana up like that. Hell yeah - a renewable mana farm. I was going to shoot through the levels like no-one¡¯s business. Immediately, I approached one of the little mushrooms and chopped it off, right under the cap. Instead of a surge of mana entering my body, I got¡­. nothing. Well, shit. So much for that plan. I activated mana vision to see if mushrooms perhaps had a mana structure similar to inanimate objects instead of creatures, but it was the same cycling mana as I had seen previously, at least for the big shrooms. The smaller mushrooms, however, had no mana to speak of. Sure, there were traces of amber in them, but it was so minuscule that it was almost nonexistent. Which meant that I had to wait for the things to grow to the full adult size¡­ Just to make sure that I was not grasping for straws, I chopped into the stipes of one of the big ones I had brought along. Immediately, a huge cloud of spores entered the space around the cap, some of them glowing with amber mana, whereas others contained a fair amount of purple mana. I could feel the pressure building on my mind, forcing images into my consciousness that had no business being there, but with my increased resistance, I was able to push back hard. Ignoring the spores as best I could, I chopped another two times in quick succession into the same spot, until I finally managed to cut the mushroom in half. Not sure what to expect, I stepped back, outside of the range of the spores, and waited for something to happen. After two minutes had passed, I started to become impatient. Fucking nothing? I refused to believe that there would be no benefit from cutting down those mushrooms. Yeah, if they were like stupid champignons, something you chop off, throw in the pan and eat¡­ I would understand that there was no reward for killing it. But these mushrooms were dangerous ¨C essentially, they had snuffed out forty goblins just like that. And without the benefit of my ¡®Mental Bastion¡¯ title, I probably would have kicked the can during my spelunking as well. But if there was no gain¡­ then I might be better off taking the mushrooms out before they grew into the big baddies chock-full of spores. Easier like that. On the flip side, the mushroom field provided an effective barrier against anyone coming from that side of the hallway, which might allow me to finally get some rest in relative safety. That last point clinched it. I was going to let the shrooms be shrooms and put my ass into the horizontal. Somewhat despondent, I thought about laying down where I was standing, but the strong smell of blood and the pungent odor of decay coming from the mushrooms convinced me that the comfort of the warm and well-lit kitchen room was the better choice. Slowly, I traipsed back to the cooking area, set on finally getting some good rest, and maybe even some shuteye. I desperately needed it. Back in the kitchen, I first locked the doors on both sides with the key that was conveniently hanging from a hook on the wall, and then pulled out a few additional sacks and arranged them in a sort of mattress. I was about to collapse into the improvised bed when I speculatively eyed the lights. Obviously, I had noticed them before, but I had never had the opportunity to look closer at them. Even though I should get some fucking rest, I could not help myself¡­ I climbed on one of the boxes lying around, which allowed me to just reach the chandelier and touch one of the crystals ¨C it was slightly warm to my fingers but otherwise unremarkable. Using the tip of my dagger, I pried the crystal out of its socket to see what would happen. Interestingly, the pinky-sized multifaceted sphere kept on shining brightly, even after being disconnected from the chandelier, which implied that there was power captured inside of the crystal. Or perhaps it was drawing energy out of the air? Only one way to find out. I activated mana vision and was rewarded with the sight of a complex structure of runes layered in an intricate three-dimensional array and powered by a tiny spec of red mana in the center of the vessel. For a few moments, I got lost in the depth of the crystal, studying the beautiful structure that turned red mana into light. Or at least that is what I thought happened. Could I perhaps draw the red mana out of the sphere and into myself? If so, that would be a free source of power, if I could figure out what to do with red mana. But for now, perhaps I should take down a few more of those light crystals ¡­ after all, it was the next best thing to a flashlight, and it gave me a backup option in case I ever ran out of silver mana. I was dead tired and exhausted, but popping out the crystals was kind of relaxing and fun ¨C therapy for the soul, or something like that. It just felt so mundane¡­ like playing bejeweled - stupid and mindless. The chandelier was quite simple, with a chain hanging down from a hook in the ceiling, securing a wooden wheel, in which the crystals were inserted on the bottom. Before I knew it, I had taken off almost all of the crystals and stuffed them into a little sack I had found in one of the crates. Maybe I had gone a bit overboard, because by then the light in the kitchen area had grown substantially dimmer, with most of the remaining illumination stemming from the regular torches set into the side of the wall. Most of them seemed on their last leg, starting to sputter and smoke, so soon there was not going to be much light left. Which¡­ might just be an advantage. After all, I could see in the dark, whereas the goblins couldn¡¯t. At least I thought they couldn¡¯t. So if they somehow managed to thread their way through the mushrooms or, god forbid, come from the other side of the kitchen area, it would substantially increase my chances for survival. On the other hand¡­ I really was fed up with the darkness. And my mana was limited so I could not see indefinitely in the dark. Not that I needed to¡­ after all, I was planning on sleeping. After wavering for a moment, I decided to go ahead and clear out the rest of the crystals. Just when I was about to take out the last of the lights, I noticed with my mana vision that there was a thin thread of mana running down the chain, and, along a metallic-shimmering line inserted into the wood, toward the crystal ¨C small enough to have escaped my notice previously. It looked like some type of energy source¡­ which meant that the mana in the crystals was a finite source? How soon would it run out? Had I just wasted thirty minutes on what was going to be inert crystals within a short while? Grumbling in annoyance, I shrugged my shoulders and put the last crystal into the bag with the nineteen others. Nothing I could do about that either way. And then, finally, I laid down on my makeshift bed. No sooner had I closed my eyes than I heard a soft shuffling noise. Instantly, I was wide awake and scanned the surrounding with my eyes. The flickering flames of the last remaining torches caused shadows to dance over the walls, creating a surreal, almost feverish atmosphere. And there it was again - a barely perceptible tapping noise as if something moved slowly, and deliberately through the room. I froze, not daring to even breathe. What had happened? How had anything managed to get through the doors without making a ton of noise? Even with a key, it should not have been that noiselessly. Shaking in barely suppressed anxiety, I slowly moved my hand down to the side of my improvised bed, trying to locate my dagger and sword. I already berated myself for not leaving them on, when my hand finally touched cold, solid metal. With an internal sigh of relief, I closed my fingers around the handle of the sword but instantly cursed my clumsiness when the scabbard scratched the floor tiles slightly.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. Immediately, I stopped moving, listening into the darkness for any indication that I had been heard. Nothing. No noise. Absolute quiet. I could have heard a pin drop from across the room. My body started to tense up even more. That silence made me even more sure that I had been noticed. Or had I just imagined the earlier noise? Perhaps it had been just a figment of my imagination, born out of the stresses I had faced during these last harrowing hours and days? But no¡­ I was sure there had been something. And it was coming for me. And then I heard the noise again. It was coming from behind the crates ¨C a slight scratching noise, like from claws on stone, and the soft tapping of ¡­ paws? Instantly, images of the Reaver Dogs crossed my mind, but I thought it was unlikely that a Reaver Dog would behave that deliberately. Trying to stay quiet, I first activated Shadowskin and Mana Vision and then slowly got up, while soundlessly drawing my sword. At least, however quietly one can do so. And then I waited for whatever was lurking behind the crates to reveal itself. The seconds stretched impossibly long until I just could not handle it any longer. With a scream, I rushed around the crates, sword ready to slaughter whatever I might find. I wasn¡¯t prepared for what I was facing though ¨C a giant panther, the size of a big pony or, perhaps a more apt comparison, a Bengal Tiger on steroids, with fur dark as midnight and eyes that were shining in a bright red, full of malice and energy. From its shoulders four tentacles with maws on the tip snaked around the air, reaching about two yards each. At my sudden rush, the panther shrank back for a moment, fur raised and growling menacingly, while the tentacles whipped around the air in a crazed frenzy, snapping and hissing, apparently driven by their own, independent will. For a second or two, I stood there, staring at the nightmarish creature, the sight of which chilled the blood in my veins. But then I realized that this might be the best and only shot I¡¯d get. I jumped forward and slashed down with my sword straight at the neck of the cat, putting in every ounce of strength I had. The panther did not wait for me to connect, though, and almost leisurely shrank back, avoiding the blade by mere inches. In the meantime, the tentacles shot forward, mouths spread open, each displaying serrated teeth like a fucking lamprey. I twisted to the side, avoiding the first two tentacles, perhaps with help from my Shadowskin, but the third latched onto my thigh, and the last one went right for my chest. Their sharp teeth buried into my skin and flesh, and I almost fainted from the shock of the sudden pain. Clenching my teeth, I pulled back my sword as fast as I could and chopped down hard, attempting to cut off the tentacles. But the beast, or perhaps the tentacles themselves, must have felt it coming, because they withdrew a split-second before I could hit them, leaving me with a couple of gaping wounds. ¡°Fuck!¡± I screamed as the pain hit me again, even worse now. And then reality set in. This beast was way too fast and powerful. The writing was on the wall unless I could end the fight quickly. It was time for a desperate attack, an everything-or-nothing attempt to end the fight. Utterly focused, blending out the pain, the fear, and my exhaustion, I jumped forward, feinting a stab to the right. The moment, I saw the huge cat beginning to dodge to the side, I changed direction and slashed with all my force to the left, where I expected the beast to move to. And indeed, the panther did precisely what I had expected. I felt elation rise as my blade sped toward the neck of the creature, only to stare in utter disbelief when my sword swished through empty air and clanged in a shower of sparks against the floor. Before I could get over my bewilderment, I suddenly was hit from behind by a massive paw, which tossed me forward, right into the wall. I dropped my sword and fought against sudden vertigo. What the fuck had happened? Wincing in pain, I picked up my sword and put my back against the wall. For a moment, everything was blurry, and I was struggling to keep the bile down. And there it was, the giant cat, standing quietly, watching me, waiting for something. I swallowed hard. What was it waiting for? Did it think I was going to lay down and offer my throat? Let myself be slaughtered like a little lamb? No fucking way! ¡°C''mon you fucker, you want to dance? Let¡¯s dance,¡± I shouted before throwing myself forward. The panther slid smoothly to the side, easily avoiding my clumsy attack and first one, then two tentacles slammed into my side, causing me to topple over. My face smashed into the ground, and the sharp crack and intense pain told me that I had broken my nose. Before I could move, I felt a heavy paw on my back, pressing me down. I tried pushing off the floor or twisting my body around, but I was just too weak. Six hundred pounds of cat will do that. Facing imminent death, I did what I had tried to avoid doing¨C I dumped all my characteristic points into strength. Not that five additional points in strength were going to matter against a creature like that. But it was a do or die situation, so I had to try at least. But reality had different plans. I was unable to put more than one point into strength, and the reason immediately became apparent. Upon making the choice, my body seized up, with hot and cold shivers running down my spine. And then painful spasms set in, contorting my body in all kinds of ways, like a marionette dancing on the strings of a drunk puppeteer, with each muscle contraction leeching more of the little energy I had left. And then the hunger set it ¨C ravenous hunger. And when I could not provide immediate sustenance, I could feel my body taking it from elsewhere, from all the little fat reserves that my body had built up over the last several years. Something similar had happened earlier, when my body had developed at such crazy speeds, changing from an unmoving, limp sack of potatoes to a body capable of jumping around, killing goblins. But this¡­ this was an order of magnitude more intense, more taxing on the scarce resources of my body. I tried moving, but my muscles did not obey me ¨C all I managed was to flop around like a fish on dry land. A fish with a monstrous cat¡¯s paw on its body. After a few seconds of futile attempts to control my body, I just closed my eyes, waiting for the bite to my neck that would end my life. But it never came. Instead, the paw slightly lifted off my back, giving me a tiny bit of space to move. I tried seizing the opportunity, my body picked that moment for a particularly violent spasm that froze my body motionless, eliciting a grunt of pain from between my clenched jaw. And then the paw slammed into my body, tossing me like a rag doll to the side. A split second later, the paw was pressing down on me again, painfully pushing my head into the ground. Before I could recover from the shock, one of the tentacles slammed into me from the other side, cracking a rib. And then the creature used its massive paw again to slap me right back to where I had started from. Only this time, its claws were not fully retracted, leaving bloody gashes along my side. The process continued like that a couple more times before I finally started to get back some control over the muscles in my body. This time, when the paw lifted off my back, I was ready. The moment I was able to move, I whipped the sword around, attempting to cut off the legs of the cat. But, just as before, the panther suddenly disappeared. As fast as I could, I got up from the floor, sword at the ready, eyes flickering around, trying to spot the huge predator. And there it was, just a few yards away, waiting for me to move. It was¡­ it was fucking playing with me. Like a cat might play with a mouse. Fuck. And suddenly, the cat was gone. I whirled around, just quick enough to see the creature emerge from a shadow behind me and launch two of its tentacles right at my face. This time, I managed to get up my sword in time and intercept one of the tentacles, drawing a bloody gash along its side. The other tentacle missed my face by a couple of inches when I managed to dodge matrix style. Rather than improving my situation, it looked as if it made the panther more serious about finishing me off. The moment it had realized that the attack had failed and that I actually had managed to injure it, the beast disappeared in another shadow. Wise to its trick, I did not wait for it to reappear but slashed into the empty space behind my back. The moment the head of the beast reared out of the shadow, my sword was biting into its side. I expected my blade to cut a deep wound, but unfortunately, its fur, or perhaps flesh, was a lot tougher than I had expected ¨C it felt like I was hitting the trunk of a tree. Completely unfazed, the panther growled menacingly and slowly began to stalk around me, watching me for an opening to strike with its tentacles or pounce on me. I turned with it, the sword between the creature and my body, ready to slash at a moment¡¯s notice. And then the panther attacked. It jumped forward, right toward the tip of my sword. But instead of impaling itself on the cold steel, it disappeared a split-second before and suddenly slammed into my body from behind. I tumbled to the ground but managed to hold on to my sword this time around. Rolling over my shoulder, I immediately got back up in a defensive position, trying to predict from which direction the creature would try to hit me next. And there it was, coming out of a shadow to my right, striking at me with its tentacles and disappearing before I could mount a counterattack. A second later, it pounced on me again, this time from behind, only to jump into another shadow before I could even turn around. The same pattern repeated itself, with injuries mounting all over my body. And all I had managed to do so far was deal a couple of minor wounds. I needed a way to pin the creature down. Its ability to jump through the shadows was crazy good and probably what allowed it to get through the door as well, without causing any noise. It could have, probably, taken out all the goblins on its own, if it had wanted to¡­ which begged the question of why it had not. Something must have prevented it from doing just that. And then it dawned on me. The light! When the panther attacked the next time, I did my best to avoid a severe injury by bending out of the way. Instead of attempting to strike back, which I knew was futile anyway, I grabbed the little sack filled to the rim with the light crystals. Praying fervently that my hunch was right, I waited for the moment the creature jumped through the next shadow and then immediately ripped open the bag and tossed the glowing crystals in a wide arc around me. Instantly, the room was flooded with light, positively blinding after the dim illumination of the few remaining torches. I blinked away a few tears and then saw the feline predator stuck between two of the heavy wooden crates on the bottom, in the only shadow in reach, I assumed. Parts of the reinforced container had cut deeply into the panther¡¯s side, and its fur was singed and smoking, filling the air with the pungent smell of burned flesh and hair. The beast was meekly struggling to free itself from its trap, but I didn¡¯t give it the chance to escape. With a shout, I lifted my sword with both hands and hammered it down on the spine of the creature. It felt like I was chopping into a wooden log. How hard was the body of the creature? Its skin was nigh impenetrable to the somewhat dull edge of my blade. But if I couldn¡¯t sever the spine with one slash of the sword, I had to go with persistence instead. I raised my sword again and cut down as hard as I could. And again. It took me at least a minute, but finally, I managed to cut through the nerves and caused the hind legs to collapse. The tentacles on its shoulders weakly moved around, clearly dazed, but still trying to find me. It was easy enough to evade them, though, now that the creature was immobilized, and I managed to cut through them one by one. When most of the danger was neutralized, I climbed up on the crates, and looked down at the previously powerful, regal creature, almost feeling a bit of pity. Almost. I spat a glob of blood to the side and, cackling like a madman, drove the tip of the sword into the base of its skull using the full weight of my body. ¡°Hasta la vista, baby,¡± I managed to croak in my best Arnie imitation, before collapsing on top of the monster in utter exhaustion. Chapter 23 – Smoked mushrooms, anyone? Lake Placid ¡°Annie, do you hear me?¡± Ben asked in a worried tone. After a few seconds, Ben decided to shake her shoulders. ¡°Annie!¡± ¡°What?¡± Annie responded, slightly confused by the urgency in Ben¡¯s voice. ¡°What did you say? I am sorry, I¡­ I kind of spaced out.¡± ¡°Annie, listen to me. I know that you are worried about Daniel, but we¡¯ve searched everywhere. Not a single trace of him.¡± ¡°I know, but how is that possible?¡± Ben looked at Annie with compassion in his eyes. ¡°Well, I hate to say it, but is it possible that the ¡®system¡¯ teleported him away?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know, I mean¡­ why would it do that?¡± Annie asked pleadingly. ¡°After all, the ¡®system¡¯ already brought him over when it left behind all those old people and children¡­ this doesn¡¯t make any sense!¡± After a moment, she added hesitantly, ¡°I think it was the bikers. Just two days ago, they taunted him in the coffee house. And now¡­ there is no police to keep them in check any longer.¡± ¡°I am sorry, Annie, you might be right. But short of questioning them one by one, or forcing our way into their compound, there is no way to find out.¡± Ben said. ¡°I wish I could help you. I just don¡¯t think that we can afford to spend more time searching for Daniel right now. We have to think of everyone else as well, and right now people need some leadership.¡± ¡°And you are the leader that is needed, then?¡± Annie said in a slightly bitter tone. ¡°If not me, then who? Do you see Austin stepping up to the plate? Or Jimmy? Who else is there that¡¯s willing to make decisions? But I can¡¯t do it by myself. I need you as well. People really like you, and you¡¯re the closest thing to a doctor we have in our little group right now.¡± Annie did not respond for a moment, trying to regain her composure. After a few seconds, she focused her usually warm, brown eyes on Ben¡¯s face with renewed determination and focus. ¡°You¡¯re right, Ben. It was perhaps selfish to ignore everything else in my search for Daniel. I feel responsible for him, but many of the others need help as well. I guess you said something about those strangers that came into Lake Placid during the day¡­? I¡¯ll be honest, their talk about being indebted to them doesn¡¯t sit well with me. Personal baggage and all, I guess¡­ it reminds me of my parents, who kept on telling me that I owed them for raising me as if I had a choice in the matter.¡± -------------------------------------------- Sweetwater, Tx ¡°Let me go! You can¡¯t do that to me!¡± De¡¯Andre shouted at the white insect man that held him in an iron grip, overpowering the 6¡¯5¡± linebacker with three of his four hands, despite his desperate attempts to free himself. The next thing he knew, De¡¯Andre was shoved into an already overcrowded and sweltering trailer that the insect men had somehow moved to the center of the town. ¡°All of you are now farmers and will start to till the land tomorrow morning at sunrise. Be ready to move by then,¡± the insect man said in its oddly clipped voice that did not sound like English but nonetheless was understood by everyone in Sweetwater. With that, the creature slammed the door shut and moved away, completely ignoring the desperate pleas for help, water, food, or even a working bathroom. ¡°This is our chance,¡± a balding man with a huge mustache and said quietly. ¡°The creature left. We have to try and escape now!¡± ¡°And go where?¡± A woman in her twenties, with too much make-up on her face, highlighted by the runny eyeliner, responded quizzically. ¡°Are you going to hide in the woods? Or the fields? And then what?¡± ¡°At least they won¡¯t whip or kill me then,¡± the balding man shot back. ¡°Did you see what they did to all those other people?¡± ¡°I did, but they decided to fight the Albarnese. As long as we cooperate, we should be fine.¡± ¡°So you are just going to do whatever they tell you to do?¡± the man asked disbelievingly. ¡°What about the rest of you? No one? Really?¡± Hesitantly, Alison stepped forward. ¡°I am going with you. They killed my cousin. I am not going to stick around until they kill me as well.¡± Quietly, another woman and De¡¯Andre joined the small group, without looking at the rest of the people. ¡°Shit, two wenches, and a fucking college kid,¡± the balding man grumbled. Grabbing a kitchen knife, he made his way to one of the windows of the trailer, checking the outside to see if the area was clear of insect men. ¡°Let¡¯s go then¡­ good luck to the rest of you.¡± A short time later, four shadows scooted stealthily toward the closest residential houses, while the rest of the people in the trailer followed them with their eyes, with a mix of pity, envy, and desperation displayed on their faces. ----------------------------------------------------- Mertesdorf, Germany A heavy blanket of silence was hanging in the air above the once lively town. It was not the solemn silence of a graveyard or the peaceful quiet of a lake far from the bustling of modern societies. No, this was the silence of death, with the metallic scent of blood permeating the air, and the silent echoes of screams faintly reverberating through the narrow streets only felt by those attuned to the mysteries of the spiritual world. And then a dripping sound sundered the quiet. With hungry eyes, the motionless creature stared at the cauldron, watching with eager anticipation as it slowly filled with the red, precious liquid dripping from the headless bodies hanging from the ceiling. Soon. Soon it was time to feast yet again. ---------------------------------------------------- Unknown area The leaves of the giant fern-like vegetation rustled in the wind, and the humid air was laden with the smell of decay and rot from the myriad of plants and dead creatures decomposing in the fetid water. Usually, the chirps of insects, the mating calls of the local species of giant toad-like creatures, or the noise of one of the ubiquitous life-and-death struggles would disturb the quiet, but in the fading evening light there was none of that - not a single living creature, big or small, could be seen or heard. ---------------------------------------------------- A couple of hours after I had collapsed, utterly exhausted, on top of the singed and bloody carcass of the giant cat, the pain of the myriad of wounds covering every inch of my body forced me to change position. With a groan, I got to my knees and tried to find a way to alleviate the pain. I just fucking wanted this to end. This was too much. I needed a safe place. Somewhere I could actually sleep and recover amber mana to heal myself. And the kitchen was not it - where there was one giant cat, there might be more. And even if not, there might be other creatures roaming the dark, creatures that did not have a weakness I could exploit. I had to chuckle a bit at the twists and turns that fate created. It was ironic that the action that had allowed the tentacled cat to get through the door and attack me also had been the key to its downfall. Which just showed that one should never give up. Speaking of the cat¡­ that beast had to have given me a ton of mana, strong as it had been. Suddenly curious, I decided to check out the changes to my character sheet while I waited for my leg muscles to stop cramping up.
Name Daniel Hollander Rank Initiate 1
Title: Mental Bastion; First Initiate; Army of One; Against the Mighty
Strength: 8.4 [+4.4] Intuitive Reasoning: 14 Mana Free Current Potential
Agility: 6 [+1] Complex Reasoning: 17 Silver 0 6Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. 10
Speed: 5 [+2] Emotional Intelligence: 9 Black 30[+30] 15 [+4] 15 [+4]
Dexterity: 5 [+1] Perception: 13 Amber 0 3 10
Endurance: 7 [+2] Spatial Awareness: 21 Green 8 [+8] 0 0
Vitality: 8.4 [+1.4] Willpower: 21 Red 38 [+38] 0 0
Available characteristic points: 4 [-1]
Spells
Mana Vision Level 9 [+1] Twilight Vision Level 1
Minor Healing Level 3 [+2] Shadow Skin Level 2 [+2]
Shadow Sense Level 1 [+1]
Available spell points: 0
Skills
Mental Ward Level 5 [+4] Mental Fortitude Level 7 [+4]
Multitasking Level 2 Internal Mana Manipulation Level 2 [+1]
Meditation Level 1 External Mana Manipulation Level 1 [+1]
Sword Fighting Level 10 [+10]
Available skill points: 0
Not bad. A solid change in the physical stats, continuing at the un-humanly rapid pace I had been experiencing during the last day. Interestingly, I suddenly had decimal numbers appear as well, which was new. Either that was a normal part of the progression, or¡­ my eyes were drawn to the line of titles, and I noticed that I had two new entries. Excited, I focused on ¡®Army of One¡¯ and immediately a blue box popped open in front of my eyes.
Title: Army of One Was it trickery or might of arms? Either way, you have managed to single-handedly fight and defeat more than forty opponents within one level of your own in one fight. You are the first individual in this pocket dimension to have achieved this feat and the 113th in Miranda¡¯s history. As a reward for this astounding accomplishment, your vitality is increased by twenty percent.
Hell yeah. Now we were talking! Those titles were seriously awesome. Not that the gain was huge at the moment, with only an additional 1.4 for vitality, but, assuming that this would apply to future changes as well, this was going to make an enormous difference in the future. So what about ¡®Against the Mighty¡¯? The moment I focused on the last title, the previous blue box was replaced with a new one.
Title: Against the Mighty Defeating a higher leveled foe is possible. But overcoming one that is more than thirty levels higher is a feat worthy of being remembered. Fortune favors the bold, the heroes, the underdogs that succeed against all the odds. As a reward, your strength is increased by twenty percent.
This was seriously game-breaking¡­ only that this was not a game. Somehow, I was collecting titles like squirrels might collect nuts. If this were to continue, I would be ridiculously powerful in no time. Not that it would benefit me in any way if I couldn¡¯t find my way out of the dungeon¡­ Quickly glancing through the rest of my notifications, I noticed the substantial boost to my mana. The thirty black mana had to have come from that high leveled panther. I¡¯d been seriously lucky in defeating that creature. Just thinking of the number of blows it had taken to hack through the spine, made me shudder to think of fighting the beast in a straight-up scuffle. The quantity of red and green mana, on the other hand, was slightly disappointing, as I had figured that it had to be at least one mana per goblin, and I had killed more than fifty goblins in total. This meant that there was some type of modifier in place that implied an ever-reduced experience if one killed just the same kind of monster all the time. Or perhaps bats were more dangerous than goblins, but I had a hard time believing that. With spells and skills, I had also made nice progress, with the most notable changes happening for skills. My training of Mental Fortitude and Mental Ward had really paid dividends, with each skill improving by a massive four points. And then there was the sword skill¡­ which already was at ten, the highest leveled skill I possessed. But that made sense since I had been reasonably good with swords before I got injured those few years back. Which also allowed me to put things into perspective. Back in the day at the HEMA meetings, I had been a middling sword fighter. Neither the best nor the worst. I could hold my own against most people but wasn¡¯t brilliant in any way¡­ just a solid fighter, making excellent use of my naturally high spatial awareness. If ten represented that, then I had still ways to go with all my other skills and the spells. But of course, most of these I had had only for a day, so no wonder that the levels were still quite low. In fact, for the little time I have had them, I had made tremendous progress. I briefly wondered why I did not have other skills listed, such as writing, reading, running, swimming, and so forth, but figured that the system decided on the essential components, the abilities that were actually used, and had implications for what was happening. Pure conjecture, but it fit with what had happened with the sword skill ¨C it had not been listed, but the moment it had become relevant, the system had rated my ability and assigned the according value. Strangely enough, I still was at Initiate Level 1. What the fuck was I supposed to do to level up? I had just defeated like fifty goblins and a freaking monster, and still, there was no change in my level¡­ that felt seriously wrong. Not that I knew whether leveling even was a thing, or what it would do, but it seemed a reasonable conjecture, based on my experience so far. The only noticeable effect of defeating monsters had been the increase in mana, which had led me to believe that leveling happened based on mana in lieu of experience or some other random measure of progress. But I had just gained more than sixty mana and still had not advanced even by one level. Did I need a gazillion mana to level? Gaah, I really needed some Wiki for this crap. Or a fucking fairy companion, like in many of those fantasy stories I had read. Alas, this was not a fairy tale or a fantasy story¡­ this was real. Annoyed by my lack of focus, I slapped myself in the face to get my brain back on track. I needed a plan. First, I needed to get some real rest. Laying down for a minute here or there was not going to cut it. Second, I needed to incorporate the free-floating mana into my mana cycle. Especially the red mana, as I was seriously looking forward to some fire magic. I mean¡­ fucking fireballs? Anyone? It should not take too long, but I first needed to see to point one. Third, I had to figure out more things about what to do with mana. I was kind of winging it most of the time and had managed to get by, but too often, my survival had been on a razor¡¯s edge, and I felt that improved understanding of what was going on would be tremendously helpful. Fourth, there h- I stopped myself short because I had noticed a sudden uptick in my energy level, seemingly out of nowhere. I scanned my surroundings, trying to figure out what might have caused this, but could not determine a likely source. My first suspicion was the glowing crystals, but they were as bright as before, and any energy transfer would have likely dimmed them. Belatedly, I figured that I should check my character sheet to gain some additional information. It only took me a second to determine that I had, in fact, not gained more red mana, but amber mana! So¡­ what the fuck was going on? I was stumped. Was it just a random occurrence? A gift from heaven? Or hell? Unless¡­ unless it was from that mushroom, I had cut. Getting excited again and immediately forgetting about the list of priorities I had just established, I dragged myself with renewed energy toward the mushroom field to check if anything had changed. And things were different indeed. The goblin corpses looked deflated as if something had sucked out their flesh and blood, and the length of the corridor was covered in a veritable forest of mushrooms. In my Mana Vision, the mushrooms had an amber glow to them, most with a tinge of red, but some came instead with a green sheen to their aura. Was this random? I suspected that it was connected to what the mushrooms had been fed before. It was just too much of a coincidence that all the goblins had had either green or red mana, most of them red, and now the mushrooms were sporting the same colors of mana in roughly the same proportion. Even more interesting was that the mushroom that I had cut down was shriveled up and clearly dead. It had lost all of its vibrancy and mana, which, as I remembered now, had not been the case when I cut it first. Which meant that my idea of farming mushrooms might actually have merit! Cackling, I covered every inch of my skin with shreds of stinking goblin cloth and began to hack down the forest of mushrooms, temporarily forgetting my numerous ailments. I was assaulted by visions and memories, causing a maelstrom of emotions, ranging from grief to happiness, fear to comfort, and cold to warmth, to batter my sanity. Stoically, I ignored all the mental intrusions, and went forward, step by step, swinging my sword like a scythe. Mushrooms fell to the floor left and right, releasing massive clouds of spores that settled on my clothes, trying to put roots into the warm body underneath. But the only part of my body that was uncovered was my eyes, and whenever the spores became too thick, I covered even those. I did not need to see to cut down the mushrooms. They were all around. All I had to do was to swing my sword in a wide arc and dream of the riches of amber mana I was going to harvest. A couple of minutes into the wholesale slaughter of shrooms, I suddenly heard guttural shouts in the large room on the other side. Immediately, I stopped moving and waited for the spores around me to settle down a bit. Soon enough, I was able to make out a group of goblins making its way toward my location. Stepping back, I grinned in anticipation and mentally rubbed my hands. That was going to be another solid harvest of goblin corpses! But, in contrast to the previous time, these goblins did not headlong rush into danger. Much more cautiously, they peeked around the door into the hallway, shields, and weapons at the ready. Immediately, I retreated a bit further, partially hiding behind one of the bigger mushrooms, unwilling to give away that I was standing there. I was still hoping that they would get caught in the spore-cloud, but it seemed less likely by the second. These goblins were cautious, and they probably knew about the mushrooms since they were basically indigenous to the area. And indeed, instead of rushing into the mushrooms, like fools, one of the goblins stepped into clear view and started¡­ well, I was not sure what it was doing. But I could see the result of it. Slowly, a roiling sphere of red-glowing mist appeared between the goblin¡¯s hands and, after growing to the size of a large watermelon, slowly moved toward the cloud of spores. I could not believe my eyes. A fucking fireball. It had to be. That was real, fucking magic. Not those parlor tricks I had been able to do or the people in Lake Placid were capable of pulling off. No, this was real, unbridled power. And I was staring at it like an idiot. Suddenly realizing the danger, I was in, I turned around and tried to put distance between myself and the churning mass of fiery mana. But too late. I had barely taken a few steps, when the fireball went off, creating an inferno of flames that filled the hallway at least ten yards in each direction with blistering heat. The deflated corpses of the goblins and their filthy clothes provided ample food for the fire to catch, and soon the corridor was a fiery hell of flames, suffocating smoke, and heat. At least there had been no real blast, just an expanding sphere of flames that washed over me and set my rags ablaze instantly. I tossed myself on the ground, trying to extinguish the flames, and when that failed, ripped off the burning rags from my blistering skin. The pain was excruciating, and I had to use all my willpower from screaming out loud in pain. Clenching my jaw, I dragged myself further away from the heat, tears streaming down my face from the agony. The biggest issue was not the heat though, I was going to survive that, but the smoke. A thick, soot-filled, black billowing cloud was rapidly filling the hallway, making breathing a real challenge. Finally, I arrived in the kitchen, and, hacking violently, closed the door against the smoke. By then, the air in the kitchen was heavy with ash and smoke particles, and visibility, despite my mana vision, was down to a few feet. The vent from the kitchen helped some, but not enough for me to be able to stick around. For that matter, the goblins might have seen me scoot away, and would give chase once the smoke had dissipated, so I could not stay here anyway. Groaning in pain, I grabbed a few things and tossed them into a burlap sack, before making my way out the other side of the kitchen, into the dark, but thankfully smoke-free hallway. Chapter 24 – No more Slowly I dragged myself along the corridor, berating myself for my lack of foresight. Why had I not healed myself, before engaging in my hack-a-thone of the mushrooms? Honestly, I had no idea. Probably my brain was getting addled from lack of sleep. What had it been? Thirty-six hours without sleep? Forty-eight? Well, I had passed out a couple of times, and taken a cat nap here and there¡­ but I was not sure how that counted. But either way, I felt like crap, and my thoughts moved even more sluggishly than my body. Focusing on putting one foot in front of another, I tried to stifle the groans of pain and the urge to cough to clear my lungs from the soot I had breathed in. Where there was one giant monster cat, there surely could be more. Or worse creatures. With a shudder, I imagined all kinds of creeping, slithering nasties prowling through the dark hallways, in search of warm bodies to feast one. Soon, I passed the intersection at which I had previously fought the goblins and kept on going straight, down the hallway I hadn¡¯t yet explored at all. I briefly considered going up to the cave, but in my current state, barely able to move and with bleeding wounds all over, I was just going to be easy food for whatever crawlies would be up there. No, I needed some type of remote room that would allow me to lay down and get some proper rest, heal myself, and explore some of the mysteries of magic. Determined, I kept going. The corridor stretched on, seemingly forever, but that was probably due to my snail-like pace. Eventually, the hallway ended at a closed door. Right before the door, a short corridor went off to the left to another entrance, almost identical to the one I was standing in front of. Worried that it would lead to another room full of goblins, I peeked through the keyhole and listened for any noises. Nothing. The absence of noise or light did not mean, of course, that there was nothing, but given the proclivity of goblins to argue and fight, it made it at least likely that there were none. Even though, come to think about it, I almost preferred having a couple of goblins around, because that made it less probable that something truly nasty was there. Shaking off that worrisome thought, I cautiously pulled the door open and stepped into a wide hallway that ended in a huge set of double doors on the left and went off into the darkness on my right. A tiny sliver of light was visible between the wings of the door, indicating that the room behind was brightly lit. Another kitchen area? Given the width of the hallway I was in, and the massive set of doors I was facing, that seemed unlikely. No, this had to be something important. And important meant potentially dangerous. Readying my sword, I stealthily approached the doors to try and figure out what I was dealing with. Alas, I got nothing - the gap between the doors allowed me to see that there was light, but that was about it. Since there was no keyhole either, I was out of luck. For a moment, I considered going the other direction, following the long, dark hallway to wherever it might lead, but just the thought of another shadow cat jumping out of the dark and tearing me apart, made me shudder and turn my attention back to the door. After trying, without much success, to hear or see anything else through the door, I finally decided to go for it ¨C just standing around wasn¡¯t going to get me anywhere after all. Gently, I took hold of one of the massive handles and pulled. Almost soundlessly, apart from a soft scraping noise, the heavy door started moving, and the gap widened incrementally, just enough to get a clear view of the room on the other side. It was a massive chamber, with columns of black and white marble supporting the high-arching ceiling. The room was basked in bright, almost blinding light, coming from hundreds of light crystals set into a massive central chandelier and at least four smaller chandeliers off to the side. Partially destroyed murals, mosaics, rugs, and statues spoke of the former grandeur and luxury of the vast space but also left a taste of decay and abandonment lingering in the air. The musty smell of rotten wood, mold, and damp earth further added to that impression. Since I could not see any creatures, I opened the doors further until I could squeeze my body through the gap. Heart thumping loudly in my chest, I cautiously proceeded along the wall, continually scanning the surrounding for any sign of movement. At least the blinding light made it a lot less likely that any of those shadow cats was going to be lurking about. Based on my observations during the fight, I assumed that they were light-sensitive and could only teleport, or shadow-walk, short distances, so a big room like this should provide a solid barrier against them. I suspected that the first door I passed on my left was connecting to the little corridor I had noticed earlier. And there were worrisome signs that it was frequently used - whereas most of the floor was covered in broken pieces of furniture, stone chips and a thick layer of dust, there was a clear path leading straight from the little door to the massive double door at the other end of the large chamber. Moving on quickly to get some distance between myself and the door, I made my way to the perpendicular wall and approached the first entrance on that side of the chamber. The thick layer of dust was a good indication that no one had put a foot, or a paw for that matter, at this side of the big hall for a good long while. Carefully, and sword at the ready, I pushed the door open, revealing a dark room about six yards wide and six or seven yards deep. In the middle of the room was an enormous, solid wood table, covered with scraps of papers that, upon closer inspection, turned out to be maps, depicting lands that I had never seen before. Along the opposite wall, I found a couple of chests that were filled with further maps and various pieces of stone, crystal, and metal, which I had no idea what they might be useful for. Beyond that, the room was empty. Soon I moved on, driven by my urgent need to find a good resting spot. The map room might do in a pinch, but it was a bit too open for my taste. The next chamber was also about six yards wide, but a couple of yards into the space, the ceiling had caved in, filling the floor from bottom to top with a massive pile of earth and stones. Water slowly dripped from the edge of the cracked ceiling, falling onto the formerly beautiful, but now cracked tiles on the floor.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. On the left side, the pile of earth and stones did not quite reach the top of the room, leaving a narrow gap. Suddenly filled with renewed energy at the prospect of perhaps finally having found a safe hiding spot, I stepped closer, eyeing the loose mass of earth and stone critically. It seemed stable enough, but, of course, it was still somewhat risky. But what wasn¡¯t? Basically, I could choose between the increased likelihood of discovery by some random creature and the chance of being buried in a cave-in. Since the dust everywhere showed that nothing had moved there for a very long time, I was hopeful that the rampart was stable enough for me to climb and perhaps hide behind. Given the same width of this room as compared to the previous room, there was a good chance that this one had the same overall dimensions, which probably meant that there was some open space on the other side of the pile of stones and dirt, perhaps even enough for me to stretch out and recover in peace and with a minimum amount of comfort. Well, if one could call resting on a damp tile floor comfort. But it was better than roasting on a spit over fire any day. Before trying to climb up and squeeze my way through the tight opening, I quickly dashed, or rather hobbled out of the room once more and made sure to disturb the dust elsewhere in the grand chamber so that there was no clear trace leading to my hoped-for hiding spot. Was I overly optimistic about the prospects of having found my hidey-hole? Maybe. But I did not want to get my shoes all dirty with earth and only then try and erase my tracks. Once done, I dragged myself back into the room, and gingerly made my way up the loose pile of stones and earth. It took several steps for every yard because the pebbles kept on shifting under my foot, but eventually, I reached the top. The gap was narrower than it had looked, but with some wiggling, I made it through just fine. And on the other side¡­ precisely what I had hoped for ¨C an open space of about two by three yards, mostly free of stones apart from the few loose pieces that I was able to move away quickly enough. With a sigh of relief, I sank to the ground, only to wince in pain from my many wounds. I was in pretty bad shape ¨C my body was a solid mass of injuries, with blood soaking through the few scraps of singed clothes that I still had on, and massive blisters and weeping burns and abrasions covering all of the exposed skin. Now that there was no more adrenalin to keep me going, and the overriding urgency had left to keep my shit together, hot and cold flashes raced through my body, causing me to shake uncontrollably as my body began to shut down. Grimacing, I pulled forth my amber mana to sooth the worst of the wounds and help my body cope with the dangerous strain it was under. A warm wave spread through my muscles, expanding out to the skin and taking the edge off the pain, just enough for me to breathe fully for the first time in what felt forever. I needed more. Desperate for additional relief, I checked my amber mana, and what I saw made me pause for a moment ¨C whereas previously all my amber mana had been cycling lazily throughout my system, there now was a substantial quantity spread throughout my body, clustered in small clouds. Where had all that come from? And then it hit me¡­ when the goblin had torched the whole mushroom forest, it had also scorched the mushrooms I had cut down before that, instantly killing them¡­ which meant that I had at least gained a partial contribution to the kills. Given the number of mushrooms I had cut down, it seemed relatively little amber mana, but I was not about to complain at this point. After all, this additional mana might well save my ass. Frantically, I got myself into a meditative frame of mind, hard as that was with everything that was going on. With utter focus and determination, I pulled the amber mana into my cycling mana, quickly increasing the intensity of the amber cycle almost by a factor of two. Maybe an hour or two later, or perhaps just ten minutes, hard to say, I opened my eyes and slowly moved the newly available amber mana to the worst of my wounds. I could not see anything and did not dare to take out one of the glowing crystals for fear of the light potentially seeping out of my little hiding spot, but I felt that two of the bites on my chest from the tentacle panther and some of the burns were the most dangerous wounds, so they had to be healed first. Everything else could wait for the time being. Of course, the amber mana was not quite enough to heal the wounds, but it alleviated the pain and the severity of the injuries sufficiently to be able to find a semi-relaxing position and drift off into a fitful sleep. -------------------------------------------------------- I woke up with a start, momentarily panicked and disoriented when I could not see shit. But then I recalled what had happened, courtesy of the pain from my numerous wounds. Sitting up, I emptied my gourd of water and chewed on the cold piece of giant bat-roast I had filched from the kitchen during my escape while considering my next step. I still felt weak and feverish, with sharp stabs of pain shooting through my body whenever I made a wrong move. So healing was still the top item on the list. As part of that, I really wanted to figure out how to use my mana more efficiently. I couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that what I was doing with my amber mana was wildly inefficient. There had to be more to it. So how exactly did I use mana for all those abilities and effects, and how could I create new effects? My experiment using the amber mana already had taught me that it was not enough to just pour mana into something. It needed some guidance, some structure, and, most importantly, some intent. Otherwise, it was like a simple outpouring of potential energy without any discernible impact. I decided to retry my experiment with the amber mana from many hours earlier and heal one of the various wounds I had on my body. As my test object, I picked one of the bite wounds caused by the stupid cat and willed the amber mana to move there. As before, this did not achieve anything - the mana simply milled around the area and slowly diffused. Instead, I now imagined my arm to be healed while putting the amber mana into the wound. After listening for any noise outside of my hiding spot, I carefully took out one of the noticeably dimmer light-crystals, which enabled me to see how the tissue slowly connected, and the wound gradually closed. This was a success, but at an extremely high cost of mana. The mana was rushing into the wounds and accumulated at the edge of the deep bite-wound, slowly building up flesh and skin tissue, which rapidly consumed the amber mana in the process. I stopped the healing, before all the amber mana in my body was gone, to try one more variation. What if instead of merely picturing the wound closed, I imagined in much more detail how the injury was going to be healed? The bite was on my forearm, so I visualized the structure of the muscles along the radius and ulna bones and how the torn or ripped muscles should reconnect. Recalling those biology books on human anatomy, I envisioned the arteries and veins, ligaments, blood cells, and skin cells growing together, replenishing and healing. I could feel the amber mana drain, but it was a lot slower than before. Yet the healing was an order of magnitude faster. I could see the wound rapidly closing, and after perhaps a minute, it was all gone, without even leaving a scar. Since I had some amber mana left, I kept on going with a few of the other wounds, almost moaning in pleasure when the so treated wounds stopped shooting daggers of agony straight into my brain every few seconds. So it was pretty obvious that the detail with which I could guide the mana, or, in other words, the depth of knowledge of injuries and human anatomy had a huge impact on the efficiency with which I could heal wounds. Which made me conclude that a learned medical doctor or a nurse would be a lot more powerful and effective with amber mana than someone like me, who only remembered some basic lessons from biology class in high school and the random tidbits of information one picks up here and there. Once my amber mana was depleted, I tried using other mana for the same purpose, but without success, which supported the theory that mana had specific functions and could not be used for other things. Settling down for a long and tedious healing process, I resigned myself to meditate to speed up the recovery of my amber mana. Chapter 25 - Experiments With my meditation skill and the title ¡®First Initiate¡¯, it took me about two minutes to recover each amber mana, for a grand total of forty-two minutes to fully recharge my current amount of amber mana. I then promptly used the mana to further heal my battered and bruised body, until the mana was depleted, only to get back into meditation to regain it yet gain. I kept on going until my head was throbbing from exhaustion, and I needed a break. Most of my wounds had been healed, but I still had minor bruises, scrapes, and burns all over that stung fiercely at any wrong move. But compared to a few hours earlier, it was like night and day. Feeling much more optimistic about my chances for survival, I took an inventory of what I was working with while waiting for my amber mana to recover. Nine light crystals that seemed to be on their last leg, some string, a short rope, a mostly empty gourd, some partially chewed bat meat, and some¡­ mittens? Really? Why the fuck had I packed those? In my defense, I had been exhausted and under quite a bit of stress¡­ but still. I had to chuckle a bit at the absurdity of it, but it was not the end of the world. If need be, I might be able to stitch something together with the string, the burlap sack, and the mittens to get myself a sort of mini blanket. Sleeping on the bare ground was neither comfortable nor particularly conducive to a fast recovery. Or perhaps clothes? Running around bare-chested in a dungeon, with pants barely holding together, was not how I had envisioned this sort of thing to go. Which reminded me yet again how amazing it was that I could run around at all. The recovery of my body was nothing short of miraculous. Lifting up my arm, I admired the faint trace of muscles visible underneath the flabby skin. Lots of flabby skin. What the hell? Had I lost that much weight? Come to think, my arms did look a tad skinny. Same as my legs. And after sitting for all those years, I had developed, much to my chagrin, a nice little belly pouch. And within a day, it was all gone. How was that even possible? Had I seriously burned that much, by fighting and running around? Hard to believe¡­ Unless¡­ the only thing that really made sense was that healing took energy from the body. Which was kind of reasonable. Or perhaps the fast recovery of my body used up all the body reserves¡­ a type of healing as well, so if one was a reason, the other probably was too. Which got me to think about what mana actually was¡­ was it energy? Did it exist as particles or waves, or both? Or perhaps it was some tech thing, like nanorobots? Or some type of unknown matter? Right then, I wished it was food. Just thinking about all the fat I had lost made me suddenly realize how ravenous I was. And that tiny bit of bat roast I had left was not going to cut it. And if mana wasn¡¯t going to provide any sustenance, I was in deep shit. I mean, I could start eating goblins, perhaps, but that was way down my list of potential proteins. Despite all their savagery and primitiveness, they were too human-like for that to sit well with me. If anything, perhaps some shadow cat filet¡­ or saut¨¦ed mushrooms? Were they even edible? Fuck, all I could think about was food. Quickly, I ate the pitiful remains of the bat skewer and partially quenched my thirst from water droplets falling down where the ceiling had caved in. The water tasted slightly muddy, but beggars can¡¯t be choosers. I was still hungry and thirsty, but at least I could focus on my next steps rather than daydream about food. Obviously, I needed to find more food, and clean water would be nice too. That had to happen within the next few hours, ideally, but at most by the end of the next day. In principle, my body could handle some more fasting, but with the constant danger I was exposed to, and the recovery process of my body, I¡¯d feel much better with a bit more of a cushion in terms of energy. Which made me think of those available characteristic points¡­ I had spent one during the fight against the cat, and it had been a disaster. With a shudder, I thought back at my predicament at the time¡­ It certainly had had a drastic impact on my body, and I immediately had felt stronger, but also¡­ drained. Which made me believe that the ¡®system¡¯ took a fair portion of the resources for improving my body out of the reserves of my body. That was definitely important to keep in mind, and also implied that I could not willy-nilly dump points into arbitrary stats without proper fat reserves and a safe place. A sudden stray thought crossed my mind. What if I pumped my vitality by four points? Would I die because my body would use up too much of its current scarce energy supply? That would be kind of ironic. Back to business. To get food, I needed to¡­ well, I did not really know what I needed to do. Hunt for grubs? I did notice a few pale worms burrowing through the earth rampart from the cave-in. So in a pinch, I could try those. Supposedly worms and grubs are quite nutritious, I had read somewhere. But then again, a friend of mine had been an ardent believer in the extreme survival stuff and tried to eat some raw worms on one of our camping trips. It did not go down well. Classical case of the mind being willing, but the body weak ¨C it all came up again within seconds, including the cereal bars and chocolate he had indulged in before. But that was the difference. Another day or two and I might be on survival mode, and then my body might override any disgust or gag reflex I might have. Not that I really wanted to try. So stealing from the goblins again seemed the obvious solution. To do that, I needed to figure out where to go and how to deal with them without getting cut to pieces and barbecued. So stealth seemed the way to go. For which I needed to get a better handle on my black mana. At the very least, I wanted to understand some of the limitations of what I had been doing and whether I could improve things somehow. But before that, it was time to finally incorporate all that free-floating mana into my mana cycle. And just maybe I could then create my own fireballs and roast me some goblins¡­ not for food, but for, hmm, fun? Or revenge? Or¡­ well, whatever the reason, I liked the idea. Grinning in anticipation at the thought of massive spheres of fire shooting down gloomy hallways, I got into a meditative state and began to feed the free-floating black mana into my cycle, giving me a substantial boost. I then turned to the red and green mana but immediately hit a snag. How was I supposed to include that in the mana cycle? Could I combine it with the other mana? Unlikely to work, given my past experiments. But worth a shot. Maybe red and green mana were different for some unspecified reasons. Eagerly, I pushed and prodded the red and green mana, but could not even get it to budge in any direction. It felt¡­ alien. Well, alien might even be too much. It felt like¡­ a faint fog or mist, visible but not substantial enough for me to get a hold of. So what now? Create some type of net to capture it? I had done something like that before, after all, even though for a different purpose. I spend a few minutes creating a dome of silvery strings around one of the little globes of red mana drifting around my body aimlessly and then started to tighten it up. Slowly, the silver mana contracted, but instead of compressing the red mana and someone incorporating it into my body, which is what I had hoped for, the silver mana seemed to combine with the red mana and¡­ absorb it? What was going on? As the process continued, the silver mana cycling in my body slowly diminished, as did the red mana that was floating around. Cursing, I stopped the process to reconsider what I was doing. Clearly, silver mana behaved differently then it had when I had woven it together with the black and amber mana ¨C instead of forming a beautiful helix structure with none of the manas diminished, all I got now was less of red mana and less of silver mana. So was this because the mana I was trying to incorporate was red and it followed different rules? With some apprehension, I tried the same process with the green mana and got the exact same result. Which meant that either there was something peculiar about mana coming from goblins, or there was something about this free-floating mana that was different from the black and amber mana that had infested my body. My hunch was that it was the latter. Something about the mana being part of my body, changing the very substance of my flesh to align with its nature must have created a core, or somehow enable me to manipulate the mana and thus forge a core ¨C I was a bit fuzzy about the details, but it fit my experience so far. So the red and green mana was useless then? I refused to believe that. There had to be a way to either create a core or to somehow use the mana differently. Otherwise, this felt¡­ just wrong. But perhaps that was me being biased by roleplaying games and fantasy books where things somehow always had meaning and worked out. At least, I had accidentally stumbled across one further property of silver mana¡­ I could use it to absorb other mana at a ratio of roughly one to one, it seemed. I did not have a direct measure of the relative quantities, because red and green mana came in diffuse clouds¡­ but based on the numbers in my stats sheet, it was about equivalent. While at first glance that property did not seem particularly useful, I could see how this might be utilized as a sort of counterspell if my control of silver mana got to the point that I could shoot it out of my body. Or perhaps something to diffuse a magical rune or dispel a curse¡­ if such a thing existed.Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. Happy about having at least learned something useful about silver mana, I turned to some further experimentation with my black mana. I already knew that the black mana was dealing with shadows. That, of course, was something difficult to wrap my head around, because shadows do not have substance. So, it was hard to really visualize it. But I figured that shadows are merely the partial absence of light, and thus to create shadows, I had to fill a space with black mana and imagine it removing the light that came into the area. At least some of it. Because if I absorbed all the light, it would be darkness, not shadows. Taking out a few of the crystals, which by then only barely provided any light, I moved the black mana to the skin of my arm. To test my theory about the importance of a detailed understanding of the exact process with which the mana was supposed to cause the desired effect, I now imagined the shadow mana to absorb light particles as they approached my skin. Not quite like a black hole that would trap the light using gravity, but more like a sponge that would simply absorb and bind the light. At first, nothing happened, apart from a slight rippling effect close to my skin. After several more attempts and lots of minute adjustments, I could see the effect of my new image. When I had previously flooded my skin with black mana it had darkened somewhat, but it had been more like a dark grey perhaps. Now, my skin almost became pitch black. Basically, I could only see my arm because of the absence of any light. In some sense, my arm had become invisible. Obviously, this would only truly be useful in very dark conditions, because only then would an area of a complete absence of light not raise any suspicion. Another concern was that this type of spell seemed to drain my mana at a prodigious rate. As the dark particles soaked up the light, they appeared to lose darkness and needed to be replenished, which required a constant flow of additional mana. Much more so than Shadow Skin. Perhaps that was because I went beyond the nature of shadows? But either way, I wouldn¡¯t say ¡®no¡¯ to a new spell. It might come in handy. Satisfied, for the time being, with my progress with the black mana, I turned my attention back to the silver mana. So I could absorb mana that was not part of my mana cycle¡­ But what else? There had to be something more that I could do with silver mana! Was it a matter of image? Perhaps part of the problem was that I didn¡¯t really know what silver mana was good for and therefore had no definite vision in mind. I mean, all I knew was that silver mana was somehow connected to synergy. Given the ability of silver mana to coexist with other manas and enabling me to integrate those other types into my body, it stood to reason that it should allow me to use various manas together. So it was time to give it a shot. I gently coaxed black mana toward my hand, covering the skin with black mana. Then, I pulled amber mana forward, trying to add it to the mix, but immediately, the two manas repulsed each other ¨C the more I pushed, the more powerful the opposing force. But then I added silver mana into the mix, drawing a coat of it to serve as a sort of buffer between the two mana types, and suddenly, the amber mana, that just seconds before had been bucking violently against the force of my will, gently, almost tamely, moved into a position right adjacent to the silver and black mana. Proud of my accomplishment, I relaxed for a moment and admired the structure I had created. Truth be told, it was nothing fancy, just three thin layers of the three types of mana, but it was the first time I had managed to, kind of, interact them outside of the mana cycle. But¡­ the mana just sat there and, figuratively, twiddled its thumbs. Was I supposed to push it somehow? There had to be some effect from this, right? I tried various configurations of mana, including different types of structure, but nothing seemed to make a difference. If the past was any indication, I probably needed to provide some intent, some image to what I was doing. But what would a combination of amber and black mana do? Hidden healing? Soothing darkness? Frankly, those sounded ridiculous. After a few more attempts, I gave up on the issue for the time being. I still had to figure out how to get out of this¡­ building? Cave? Dungeon? Whatever it was. And I needed food. Right on cue, my stomach started growling. Before going off in search of some chow, I decided to check out my stats once more to see if I could gain any more insights.
Name Daniel Hollander Rank Initiate 1
Title: Mental Bastion; First Initiate; Army of One; Against the Mighty
Strength: 8.4 Intuitive Reasoning: 14 Mana Free Current Potential
Agility: 6 Complex Reasoning: 17 Silver 0 5 10
Speed: 5 Emotional Intelligence: 9 Black 0 55 [+40] 55 [+40]
Dexterity: 5 Perception: 13 Amber 0 1 21 [+11]
Endurance: 8 [+1] Spatial Awareness: 21 Green 6 0 0
Vitality: 8.4 Willpower: 21 Red 36 0 0
Available characteristic points: 4
Spells
Mana Vision Level 9 Twilight Vision Level 1
Minor Healing Level 7 [+4] Shadow Skin Level 2
Shadow Sense Level 1 Midnight Skin Level 1 [+1]
Available spell points: 0
Skills
Mental Ward Level 5 Mental Fortitude Level 7
Multitasking Level 2 Internal Mana Manipulation Level 3 [+1]
Meditation Level 2 [+1] External Mana Manipulation Level 1
Sword Fighting Level 10
Available skill points: 0
There were no dramatic changes anywhere. In fact, given my meteoric rise in physical attributes earlier, the pace of change now was almost sluggish. And the worst part¡­ I was still level 1. What the fuck? I had hoped that incorporating the free-floating black mana into my mana cycle would elevate me to a different level. But that, obviously, had not panned out. So was leveling a thing? Just to make sure that I had read this right, I took another look at the title Against the Mighty.
Title: Against the Mighty Defeating a higher leveled foe is possible. But overcoming one that is more than thirty levels higher is a feat worthy of being remembered. Fortune favors the bold, the heroes, the underdogs that succeed against all the odds. As a reward, your strength is increased by twenty percent.
And there it was. Black on white. Or rather black on blue. Levels existed. Of course, it might just be that different creatures and human beings came in different levels, and I just happened to have drawn the short straw and ended up on the lowest rung of the badass-ladder. But that seemed unlikely. Therefore¡­ what? Maybe it was not mana after all that mattered. But that flew into the face of my intuition. Unless it was skills that mattered. But no. That made no sense. I had made huge strides with those as well. Or¡­ perhaps it was the minimum amount of mana in any particular color. In which case silver mana was the bottleneck at 10¡­ unless green mana counted, but my hunch was that it would not. Fuck. Too many unknowns. But if silver mana was indeed the holdup, then I was screwed. So far, nothing I had seen around here gave any silver mana, so unless there was a process of transforming green or red mana into silver mana, I was doomed to be stuck at level 1. Shrugging my shoulders, I decided to worry about it later. I had more urgent things to deal with. Just to be on the safe side, I decided to meditate a bit more and replenish the rest of my mana before taking off scavenging for food. It wouldn¡¯t do to get into another life-or-death struggle without the ability to heal myself in a pinch. I had come far, and the additional hour of meditation was not going to make a big difference time-wise but might just be the difference between death and survival. Less than forty minutes later, I had fully replenished my amber and silver mana and was ready to go exploring. I needed either food or, even better, an exit to the surface. I was getting sick and tired of the dark, and it was getting lonely down here. Goblins did not count as a good company, and neither did murderous shadow kitties. Thinking about Lake Placid, I again realized how bizarre it was that there was a ruin in a cave-system underneath the Adirondack mountains. The goblins I could explain with some type of random mutation due to the mana infusion, but what about a system of tiled underground corridors, complete with rooms, a kitchen, a ballroom, statues, and chandeliers with magical light sources? The only reasonable explanation was that the ¡®transfer¡¯ by the system did not only fit different areas horizontally together but also vertically, at least in one layer. Like a giant fucking 3D puzzle. To what purpose? How? Big questions, but probably not overly relevant for my survival right now. Perhaps smarter people than me in Lake Placid had figured something out by now. Fuck. Annie. I had not thought about her since I had been dumped into the cave. Thinking of her face, with the freckles on her cute little nose and her warm, brown eyes made me smile. She was such a cool lady. So, wait, now that I was not in a wheelchair any longer, would she perhaps go out with me? Shit, that would be kind of weird, though¡­ I mean, she had taken care of me for the last three years or so. Had cleaned my body, wiped off the drool from my face, fed me, scolded me, laughed at and with me¡­ Still. If I just kissed her, would she like reciprocate? Melt into my arms? Riding off into the sunset, holding hands? Yeah, right. Sometimes I am a fucking moron. Kiss a girl just like that? I was just as likely to get a slap on the face. Well, not just as likely, almost certainly. Regardless of whether I had a chance with her, I first had to get my ass out of here in one piece. Time to move. Chapter 26 – Big Boss Carefully, I made my way to the door leading to the grand chamber, stopping every few steps to listen for any sound that might indicate a creature in the vicinity. Luckily, everything was quiet apart from the steady dripping noise of the water drops hitting the floor tiles. I cracked open the door and peeked into the big room. No movement. Nothing that would indicate any immediate danger. As confident as I could be, which was not saying much, I opened the door fully and slipped into the wide-open space. After having spent the last few hours in a tiny, secluded room, I felt incredibly exposed - any goblin entering the chamber would spot me immediately, and I¡¯d be right back to fighting for my survival. Mentally berating myself for my carelessness, I cast Shadow Skin. While the spell would not work particularly well in a brightly lit room, it was certainly better than nothing at all and might give me an additional second or two to react to anything happening. And there was enough trash laying around, ranging from chairs and tables to silverware, and even a few skeletons to provide a modicum of hiding opportunities. Nothing that would protect me from an alert enemy¡­ but perhaps enough to evade a distracted goblin running through. So where to go? One option was to go back to the kitchen area since there had been food there before. The downside of that was that I knew that there were plenty of goblins around and the dark corridors also increased the probability of surprise attacks by another shadow cat. If there was another one. The alternative was to explore more on this side of the dungeon and hopefully find some food like that. Or an exit. The thought of being able to see the sun again decided it. I could still go back to the kitchen if my exploration ended up with no success, but I had a little bit of time before it got that urgent. With renewed determination, I began to investigate the rest of the grand chamber. There were three doors on each side of the room, two of which I had explored already. The other four did not turn out to be much more interesting, as they seemed to be a mix of reception areas, strategy rooms, and¡­ well, rooms that I had no idea what purpose they might have served at one point or another. And then there was, of course, the set of big double doors on the other side of the room. The tracks of heavy usage led directly toward those doors, making it abundantly obvious that I was likely to encounter some type of enemy on the other side of that gate. But then again, I was also fairly confident that goblins and other monsters were present throughout the dungeon, so it did not really change all that much. Sword at the ready, I approached the door, each wing of which turned out to be made out of one solid slab of wood. The size of the tree this had to have come from boggled my mind. Not that I hadn¡¯t seen sequoia trees and the like¡­ but to see a slab like that as a fixture was something altogether different. The wood was dark and felt extremely solid and dense to the touch, almost like mahogany. And the whole surface of it was artfully carved with scenes of humans fighting monsters of various ilk, slaying them with magnificent swords, lances, axes, or magic. Running around the edge of the door was writing in golden letters in a language that I did not know. Or perhaps it was not language but runes? Probably those were a thing in this world, judging by the weird room I had been in for the transfer assessment. More importantly, the doors were slightly ajar, and I could make out another brightly lit room on the other side, a place that seemed to be entirely empty, apart from a grand staircase, with what must have formerly been a magnificent rug covering the steps. Not much of it remained, but one could still see the luxurious fabric that had been used and the level of detail incorporated in the weaving. The light came from another one of those stunning chandeliers, similar to the one in the grand chamber, but with small faces engraved in the metal and leaves and fruits arranged in a winding pattern around them. At the beginning and the end of the handrail of the staircase were little pillars with shards on top and to the sides, probably the remainder of vases or perhaps statues. Similarly, along the walls to both sides, there were little alcoves with sculptures that were partially smashed. I could still see that they had, at some point, depicted humans in armor, but it was impossible to make out more detailed features. It seemed as if someone had methodically used a hammer to destroy all the artwork in the room. Nervously, I climbed the stairs, ready to bolt at the slightest sign that someone was coming. But, for once, I was lucky. Everything remained quiet. On top of the staircase, a wide corridor continued straight, its walls covered in vibrant, colorful murals, lit by the occasional oil lamp hanging from crude hooks in the walls. Clearly, those lamps were not part of the original design, since they were far too primitive compared to the rest of the fixtures around. Which meant that something important was ahead, something that caused the goblins, and I had no doubt that it was them, to go to the effort of installing lights along the hallway. Or perhaps it was merely a matter of safety for them. After all, they had to be worried about monsters preying on them as well. And as much as I preferred the bright light of the chandeliers over the gloomy, flickering light conditions in this hallway, the poor visibility made me feel a whole lot safer, especially in conjunction with the Shadow Skin covering my body in everchanging shades of darkness. Every few yards, there were doors on each side of the corridor, and, about twenty yards ahead, I could make out another set of double doors. One of the doors was wide open, allowing me to see what was beyond - a large room, at least ten yards wide, and roughly fifteen yards long. Trusting the camouflage provided by my spell, I crept closer until I could make out more details, just stopping briefly at each side-door to make sure that I was not trapping myself between enemies. The big room had little alcoves on the walls contained statues made out of dark material, perhaps obsidian, depicting heroic figures or kings. On the walls were tattered remains of banners or flags, separated by huge halberds attached to the stone with metal clamps. At least fifty or sixty torches with light crystals instead of flames were placed in regular intervals along the wall, and a magnificent golden chandelier was hanging from the ceiling, bathing the room in blindingly bright light, almost like a miniature sun. A few steps into the room, back turned to me, five huge goblins were standing around wearing the heaviest armor of any goblin I had seen so far. It was not exactly plate mail, but odd pieces of steel armor mixed together with leather armor and some chain mail. The whole thing made them look almost like vagabonds but probably protected them quite well. Certainly, I was not fancying the idea of going up against them without having armor myself. In addition to their armor, they were also bristling with weapons, to an almost comical degree. One of them had knives stashed all over its body, a battle-ax, and a saber. Another one was carrying an enormous halberd that was clearly too big for the goblin¡¯s relatively small frame, and it also had a sword on its back that was almost as tall as the goblin itself. The other three goblins had multiple swords and knives in various belts, and each had a crossbow slung over their back. And while not particularly attentive, they were clearly there to serve as guards. Which, naturally, drew my eyes to who, or what, they were guarding. At the center of the room was a small, raised platform, with a large crystal sphere in its center, that shimmered in a red light coming from deep within. For a second, a burgundy spark danced across the matrix of the crystal, only to disappear in its depth again.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. I stared at the gem, unable to tear my gaze from the mesmerizing view. There was something mysterious, and¡­ powerful about this sphere. And it called to me. Even more, I felt overwhelmed by emotions, ranging from fear to a feeling of safety, from boredom to excitement. And curiosity. I almost took a step forward before I was able to catch myself. Suddenly, the color of the crystal changed to a lush forest-green, only to quickly revert to the bright blue of a glacier¡¯s permanent ice. Immediately, I felt a coldness, the freshness of a winter day with a clear, blue sky, snow flurries dancing through the air. And razor-sharp rationality settled over me, making me analyze every step I had taken during the last few days. And then, the crystal changed to a translucent white, with small white lights racing over its surface. Instantly, I felt the urge to move, to dance to a tune that no one but me could hear. I wanted to run, no matter where it wou- With an act of pure willpower and determination, I tore my gaze from the gem and suddenly felt clarity return to me ¨C not the clarity I had received from the blue crystal, but real awareness and consciousness. Not ready to look at the mysterious sphere again, I shifted my gaze further, and, weirdly enough, only now noticed the giant throne situated on a raised dais behind the pedestal. It was the size of a car, at least, and seemed to be made out of a massive block of marble, with heroic scenes intricately carved into it. And on the throne sat the fattest goblin I had seen so far. It was grossly overweight, with massive roles of fatty tissue bulging around its barrel-like waist, filling the throne like a humongous pudding dumped onto an armchair, oozing into all the available nooks and crannies and beyond. The obese goblin easily weighed more than four or five of the other goblins together, hitting at least seven hundred pounds, if not more. On its head, it carried a golden crown, tastelessly adorned with gemstones and an assortment of ¡­ teeth? At least it looked like teeth from where I was. Perhaps some sort of monster trophies the king, or dungeon boss, or whatever that fat bastard was, had collected in its prime. Fatty did have a huge morning star resting across its lap, a weapon big enough to require a mountain of a man to swing. Or a giant. Certainly, more than a morbidly obese goblin that would have a hard time to even stand, much less swing that monster of a weapon. Maybe it had a special rolling attack and then smothered opponents with its fat rolls¡­ Having inspected the goblin king and finding him wanting, my eyes were invariably drawn to the smaller goblin standing right next to the throne. It was the oldest goblin, by a fair margin, that I had seen so far. Its back was bent, and wisps of white hair cascaded from its head to all sides, partially covering the wrinkly skin of its face. The frail-looking arms and legs did not indicate any great strength, but the goblin did wield a strange looking staff with a skull attached to the top. Based on role-playing games I had played in the past, the set-up was almost comically clich¨¦. The fat dungeon boss, in the throne room, protected by a handful of guards and presumably some type of priest, or shaman or some such. And if this were not my new reality and my life at stake, I would surely have chuckled at the irony of all of this. I clearly did not want to mess with these guys, though. Comical or not, I had fought already too many of the goblins and barely had managed to get out of those scuffles alive. Especially the goblin wizard I had encountered across the mushroom field had scared the bejesus out of me. And that old geezer sure as hell was a magic-user. Heck, I guess everyone might be a magician now since even the goblins all seemed to have some mana inside of them. The question was only whether they could actively use the mana, and for the standard goblin grunt, my gut feeling was that they could not. Or only in non-combat related ways. Perhaps those bigger goblin guys could, though. Thoughtfully, I used Mana Vision to eye the guards in the throne room, trying to figure out if there was anything overtly different about them. But, no matter what type of vision I used, they just looked like big, dumb goblins. Or perhaps hobgoblins, since they were so much larger. None of this helped me to get food either. But, presumably, these goblins needed to eat as well. So either the food had to come from somewhere behind the throne room, through the two little doors I could see on the far side of the room, or it had to go through the hallway I was currently in. Given the well-trodden path through the grand chamber, directly connecting the throne room to the kitchen, I figured that it was the latter. Which meant that I could perhaps ambush the food delivery? But if I did that, I was going to alert all goblins that something fishy was going on. Unless I could shift the blame on one of the cat monsters. And to do that¡­ any fighting would have to happen on the other side of the grand hall, somewhere in the dark. Of course, I could also just steal food from the kitchen, but even there, I would typically encounter goblins, I figured. And I did not want to disrupt the supply of food¡­ I had to think long term. Just ambush the occasional food delivery service and then vanish into the darkness. At least until I had found an exit from this underground shithole. And if I eliminated additional goblins in the process that was just gravy on top. In fact, I wondered how many goblins there were around. After all, I had already killed like fifty of them. Was that just a drop in the bucket, or had I killed a sizeable portion of the goblin horde? I turned around and quietly retreated back toward the grand chamber and the now-familiar corridors on the other side. As I approached the kitchen area, I started hearing the grunting noise and guttural screaming of goblins making their way through the hallway in my direction. The flickering light of torches and even a couple of glowing crystals carried by the goblins lit up the darkness, giving me ample warning of the approaching monsters and a fair idea of what I was dealing with ¨C a group of three gobs, two of them with weapons at the ready, nervously scanning the surrounding darkness, and the last one struggling to carry a heavy basket. And the delicious smell drifting toward me made it quite obvious what was in that basket. Fuck, I was so hungry. But one against three? Certainly doable, but I needed to make sure that I got all of them. I definitely did not want one of them to get away and warn the rest of the gobs that a human was still running through the dungeon, ambushing the food delivery. They might suspect anyway that I was still around, but the less proof they had, the less effort they would put into flushing me out. Since only two of them had weapons at the ready¡­ if I could take them out in a surprise attack, I should be able to chase after the unarmed one and catch him before he warned the others. Maybe. I needed a distraction so that they wouldn¡¯t take off running immediately. Or a trap that would catch them. But to come up with some sort of trap, I needed more time than just a few seconds, and I was unlikely to get a better opportunity for food any time soon. I guessed it would be several hours at the very least until they would bring more. And by that time, I would be hungrier, weaker, and with not that much better prospects than right now, because, frankly, I could not think of a particularly good setup for a trap in these tunnels. The mushroom trap had worked because I had enraged the goblins beyond reason, and, arguably, because I had been facing overwhelming odds, which made the goblins confident enough to rush headlong after me in pursuit. With three goblins¡­ even if I got them angry as hell, they were as likely to run away as to rush at me. But perhaps I could at least distract them for a moment. Quickly, I retreated to the four-tunnel intersection and put light crystals every couple of yards into the corridor leading toward the cave, before hiding in the opposite hallway leading into the darkness. Maybe the light crystals would catch the goblins¡¯ attention or even tempt one of them to go off and investigate, perhaps it wouldn¡¯t. But I had nothing to lose. A few seconds later, the group of goblins had made its way to the intersection. I was close enough by then that the putrid smell of the goblins overpowered the tempting scents coming from the food basket, and I could see dirt crusted hands and filthy clothing of the goblins handling the food. But beggars can¡¯t be choosers. I needed that food, regardless of the lack of hygiene of the cooks. And probably amber mana could deal with food poisoning. At least I hoped so. Just as I had expected, the goblins noticed the trail of glowing crystals and froze in confusion. Or perhaps it was fear. And it was the perfect opportunity to go in and do some damage. Quietly, I approached from behind and chopped into the neck of one of the armed goblins, almost decapitating it. Even before the body dropped to the ground, I flicked off the blood from the blade and lunged at the unprotected back of the next goblin. With a sickening, squelching noise, the blade slid into the lungs of the goblin, causing it to croak briefly, before collapsing to the ground. The last goblins whirled around, with panic written on its face. Immediately, it dropped the basket with food and started racing back toward the kitchen, screeching in fear. Cursing, I sprinted after it, trying to reach it before it could get away. And slow as I still was, the healing and rest had sufficiently increased my physical abilities to catch up within a few seconds, but not before the goblin had reached the door and started banging on the wood in a full-blown panic. And the response was immediate - I could hear guttural shouting and the clanging of weapons from inside the kitchen, and I was sure that within seconds, all hell would break loose. Shit. This whole ambush attempt had turned into a giant cluster fuck in a hurry. Mad at myself for not positioning my attack better and cut off the kitchen as a retreat, I slammed my blade into the back of the disgusting little creature and turned around to rush back to the intersection to grab some of the food. In addition to a few pieces of meat, I took a partially burned mushroom and a couple of strange-looking fruits that smelled quite appetizing. When the door to the kitchen banged against the wall, and the bloodthirsty screams of a dozen or more goblins reached my ears, I picked up the light crystals, put them in my pocket and took off toward my hiding spot as fast as I could. Chapter 27 – Pressure A couple of hours later, I felt a lot better than before. Funny how important a full stomach is to one¡¯s perceived well-being. I am sure I would have been fine even without the food for another day or two, but it would have felt¡­ miserable. The fruits had turned out to be incredibly juicy and sweet, which went nicely with the somewhat bitter taste of the burned mushrooms and the bat skewers that were dripping with fat. I wished I could have taken more, but for a first foray, it had been a success. For a little while, I had been worried that the goblins would swarm the area and conduct a room by room sweep, inevitably flushing me out. But none of that happened. Yes, for a few minutes, I could hear goblins screaming in the grand chamber and, based on the sound of boots and the clanging of weapons, running back and forth, but soon enough the hubbub died down, and I was able to relax a bit ¨C a luxury, lately. For about thirty minutes, if not longer, I just stared into the darkness, listening to the constant dripping noise of the water on the floor, and the few odd sounds coming from beyond my little safe haven. It was almost meditative and was the first time in a while that I had done simply nothing. Sure, when I had been stuck in my wheelchair, there had been many such moments, but that had not been by choice and almost felt like an eternity ago anyway. So I actually enjoyed the peaceful moment. ¡­ At least for a little while. ¡­ ¡­ I was kinda boring, though. ¡­ ¡­ And sitting around was not going to get me out of here either. What I needed was a plan that extended beyond gathering food. On one side of the dungeon was the king with his guards and the shaman. And while the king seemed like easy pickings, fat as he was, the rest were decidedly less so. But perhaps manageable if I was able to surprise them somehow. Maybe even another one of my spore traps would do the trick. The kitchen side of the dungeon was too populated with goblins for my taste, so I had to stay away from there unless I needed to get food. Which left the cave above, and the wide hallway leading into the darkness that I had been reluctant to explore out of fear of another shadow cat. The cave had all kinds of crawlies and bats and such, none of which was particularly dangerous by itself, I felt, but in great numbers and with their stealth posed a significant threat. Not nearly as dangerous as the shadow cat, but I was sure that there were giant bats and spiders up there and had no idea if there was another cat¡­ Fuck. I just did not know. Is that how true adventurers felt? All fucking uncertain and bumbling around in the dark? It sure did not feel like that in the stories and movies. But I still had some time. With all those goblins potentially on high alert, I was not going to risk running around aimlessly and getting myself caught and roasted on a spit. With nothing better to do, I decided to experiment a bit more with my mana. I had a few spells by now and figured that it was a good time to find out the limits of what I could do with those, or if, perhaps, I could evolve them into different versions, just as I had done with Shadow Skin and Midnight Skin. First, I decided to consider once more shadow mana. Back when I had first experimented with it, I had noticed that it seemed to slightly decrease the weight of the limbs in which I accumulated the black mana. And while I was not entirely sure about how useful that might be, I decided to experiment a bit more with that. I began by pooling the black mana into the little finger of my left hand, hoping to see a marked change in the weight. And while my pinky changed to a swirling mass of black in my mana vision, I realized that I had no fucking clue on how to figure out if the weight had changed at all. Even if I had a scale that would not have helped me since I had no intention of cutting off my finger just to weigh it. And holding it up¡­ yeah, it seemed slightly lighter, but who the fuck knows? Hard to tell with a pinky. It is not as if you need like superhuman stamina to keep your little finger up for a while, even if it weighs its usual weight. But if it indeed were lighter, yet covered the same volume, that would imply that it had to be less dense, right? Unless standard physics did not apply because, hey, it¡¯s fucking magic. Less mass would imply less kinetic energy if hitting something at the same speed¡­ so what if I just whipped myself with my little finger. Like a finger whip. That sounded seriously weird. Feeling awkward, I slapped my left hand with the pinky of my right hand to establish a baseline. When I repeated the process with my left pinky, I was amazed at the difference. It was almost as if I had touched my right hand with a soft grass stalk instead of slapping it with my pinky. There was a bit of resistance from my shadow-infused pinky, but otherwise, it just flowed, for lack of better words, past my palm.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Which was freaking me out a bit. Immediately, I withdrew my black mana, hoping that my pinky was fine. A few seconds later, I sighed in relief when I realized that nothing terrible had happened to my finger ¨C as far as I could tell, the transformation was a purely transitory state. Morbidly fascinated by the strange feeling of my finger being there, but not there, I poured black mana back into it. This time, rather than trying to slap something with my little finger, I instead grabbed on to it with my other hand. Or at least I tried to. It was as if I was trying to clutch at¡­ I did not even know what to compare that to. It had a tiny bit of substance, so I could feel that there was something, but it merely drifted out of my way when I tried to grasp it. And even when I managed to get my hand around my finger and squeezed, I could see shadowy bits and pieces of my pinky ooze out on top and the sides, like one of those jelly putty slime thingies the kids so love these days. The sight made me a bit squeezy, but I only felt a mild amount of discomfort, just like someone might when stretching stiff muscles. That feeling, though, intensified when I grasped my pinky closer to the point where the shadowy part turned into a normal, fleshy finger. At that point, the feeling turned into something close to pain, and it got exponentially worse the more pressure I exerted. All of this confirmed that there was still substance, but it was less dense, kind of like a gas. So no walking through walls for me, but maybe drifting through bars or even a keyhole. And I still had feeling in my pinky, but it was like through a cotton wad ¨C any tactile sensation I might usually have was muted to such a degree that I could understand that I was touching something, or something pressed against my little finger, but nothing beyond that. Fucking weird. So did that work with other body parts as well? And what would happen if I infused the middle part of my finger with black mana? Would the tip of the finger just drop to the floor? Or dangle somewhere, attached by a thin smoky thread? And what would happen if I forced a smokey finger or hand through a keyhole and then released the mana? Would the keyhole explode? Or would my hand be squished to fit the size? Or both? Based on what I had seen with the shadow cat, it seemed likely that my body would adjust to the surroundings and not vice versa. Granted, the ability of the shadow cat to jump through shadows was different from what I was experimenting with, but it seemed somewhat related. Sticking to the safer part of my trial and error process, I tried pushing black mana into my foot to see how what would go. Alas, it turned out that I had already completely exhausted my black mana reserves. Using this ability was an absolute mana hog! Filling my pinky twice and doing some experimentation and all mana was gone! Which also severely limited the usefulness of the spell. I had already envisioned changing myself into a diffuse cloud of black mana and drifting through the hallways, happily ignoring any and all creatures that were prowling the dark corridors. No such luck. I would need like fifty times the mana I had right now to make any meaningful inroads toward that. Or seriously level whatever spell might allow me to do that. Or better both. Despite the lack of tangible results, I could not help but smile happily. I wasn¡¯t gonna lie¡­ experimenting with mana was pretty great. Weird. But fun. It seemed like the possibilities were endless. If only I had a fucking clue how this all worked. Then again, I had always been the type of guy that wanted to figure out things for himself. Reading instructions? Nope, plug, and play. But for now, I needed to recover my black mana and then perhaps start exploring the rest of the dungeon. After all, I could experiment all I wanted once I was in safety, not in the middle of a freaking goblin tribe. A couple of hours later, my mana was fully recovered, and I felt a lot more energetic again. And a bit cold. While running around and fighting, the lack of a shirt did not bother me overly much, apart from feeling a tad awkward. But sitting in a damp and moldy, partially caved-in room, it did start to get a bit chilly. Just another item on the list of things I needed to do. And some type of armor would be nice as well. Nothing clunky like plate mail¡­ but some boiled leather or perhaps some ring mail would be great. Really anything to protect me somewhat from the random cut or stab with a dagger or sword. And a grande chai tea latte. With extra foam. Fuck, I¡¯d kill for that. Literally. Daydreaming of a hot cup of Starbucks chai in my hand, I slowly made my way out of my little hideout and into the grand chamber. It was abandoned and quiet, just as it had been for the last two hours. Did that mean that it was more likely that more goblins would show up soon or less likely? I had no idea. But I did know that I could not sit in hiding the whole time. I needed to find a way out of here, and that was only going to happen if I explored. Or if I killed every single goblin. And at this point, I did not overly care about which one of the two. Of course, even if I killed all the gobs, I still would have to explore, so there was that. --------------------------------------------------- A few hours later, I returned to my hiding spot depressed and, I had to admit, somewhat scared. I had followed that wide tunnel into the darkness and had quickly realized that the area I had explored so far was just one small portion of the dungeon ¨C numerous hallways branching off to the left and right indicated a size that was at least a couple of square mile rather than measured in acres, as I had secretly hoped. And while most of it looked and felt abandoned, I saw tracks in the dust and debris on the floor and heard the unmistakable noise of shouting goblins too many times to count. In the hope of finding the entrance to the dungeon, I stuck to the wide hallway, even though I was getting more and more paranoid about encountering and potentially being trapped by random groups of goblins pouring out into the corridor. Luckily no such thing happened, and I ended up finding what I thought to be the entrance ¨C a set of massive gates on the opposite side of a wide-open square. At first, I had been delighted, already envisioning myself stepping out into the sun and leaving this cesspit of violence and stinking goblins behind, but I quickly realized that there was something weird going on. The closer I got to the square, the more I had to fight some kind of resistance. As if there was a stiff breeze pressing against me, only that there was no air movement whatsoever. And that breeze yet non-breeze quickly increased to hurricane strength as I tried stepping into the square. Try as I might, I could not push past it. And laying down on the floor and crawling did not do one damn thing, apart from hurting my dignity. It was not a purely physical resistance either. At least not one that could be explained with a standard natural science cause and effect. The pressure was, with differing degrees, on every part of my body, even, and this felt really weird, inside of me. There is this expression of having a heavy heart¡­ I actually felt a heavy heart at that moment. And it is even less fun than it sounds. I understood that if I tried to push even more, I might actually endanger my life because internal pressure on sensitive organs is no laughing matter. Eventually, I had to turn around, resigned to the fact that I had to find another way out. Chapter 28 - Legolas So the cave it was. Fuck. I hated spiders. Especially the giant version. At least this time around, I¡¯d be in better shape and have a real weapon, rather than a stick that I had generously called a truncheon. So maybe it wouldn¡¯t be all that bad. But spiders¡­ If there were at least light in the cave. Granted, I could take some torches from one of the lit hallways in the dungeon or even a few glowing crystals. But how much would that really help me? Probably it¡¯d just blind me and provide a beacon for every freaking monster to indicate my position. So I resigned myself to stumbling around in the dark, only relying on my Mana Vision. Which, instrumental as it had been to my survival, just did not have the reach to make me feel comfortable. But you¡¯ve got to play the hand you¡¯re dealt. Dejected, I used up my amber mana to heal the numerous bruises, cuts, and other ailments I was still suffering, to get myself into the best possible shape. And while I had lots of obvious wounds all over my body, most of my mana ended up going into my arm because the spider remains had started to cause some inflammation in my flesh¡­ another issue I had to deal with rather sooner than later. Maybe I should just man up and cut into my arm to dig out the stuff. But chances were that I would just faint from the pain and then probably die from blood loss. It was better to wait for some help, at least someone that could do the cutting for me, and bandage the wound until I could pour some amber mana into it. Unwilling to run around without any healing ability, I waited until my mana had recovered before setting out. ------------------------------------------------------------ A couple of days later, I stumbled back into my safe haven, exhausted, dirty, full of bloody scratches and bites, and half-starving. And without anything to show for it. The cave system was a lot bigger than I had suspected, so I was far from done exploring it, especially because some of the little tunnels that led away from the main cave were awfully tight. But the part that I could easily investigate had not given any indication of a natural exit to the surface. Apart from the narrow chimney, I had fallen through. And while that chimney might allow me a path out, I doubted that I could manage that without some real equipment. Perhaps I could stack a few crates on top of each other, and then squeeze my way into the chimney, but the walls were glistening with water and the moss covering the surface made me doubt that I would find sufficient hand- and footholds to manage the climb. Perhaps my subconscious fear of another climbing accident played a role in this assessment, but even knowing about my potential bias did not change my evaluation sufficiently to see this as my way out. If anything, it was a measure of last resort. Which left¡­ what? Some other side tunnel in the dungeon complex? Or perhaps the doors behind the throne. That had to go somewhere. Maybe just some sleeping chambers or some such¡­ but at least there might be some type of secret escape tunnel. Didn¡¯t kings always have something like that in case the shit hit the fan? Or was that just something from the stories again? Either way, I had very few options left, so it was something I had to seriously consider. But first I had to search for some real food and get some good rest. The last two days, I had survived on chewing on bitter roots and various fleshy, weirdly colorless leaves, half of which ended up giving me a stomachache. Sleep had consisted of taking short naps, hidden behind giant mushrooms, and hoping that none of the giant bugs running around the cave would notice me. Needless to say, it had not been restful. Two encounters with giant spiders, both of which would give me nightmares for many days to come, had not made the experience any better. And the numerous fights with giant centipedes, huge cockroaches, skittering every which way in the dark, and the occasional giant bat swooping down toward my head, had not helped either. But now I was back home. Weird how I thought about a hole in the dark as home already. But humans are adaptable if nothing else. At least some are. And I was just fucking glad to still be alive. After an hour of rest, my grumbling stomach made it quite clear that taking care of food had to come first. Thoughts of more of those succulent fruits from my earlier food raid, and perhaps a couple of bat skewers made my mouth salivate as I wormed my way out of my hiding spot. I was just about to go through the door when I suddenly heard something on the other side. It was a very slight noise, but the last days had made me hyper-alert to any change in my surroundings. In the cave, this had often been my only warning ¨C the scrabbling of claws on the ground, the ever so slight movement of air alerting me to approaching bats, and the minute changes in mana flows that indicated obstacles in my path. And there definitely was something on the other side of the door. Immediately, I pressed my body against the wall of the room and covered myself in Shadow Skin. And none too soon. Within seconds, the door began to move, and a ray of light cut into the darkness of the room. And it was not only the light from the grand chamber but also a directed beam that illuminated parts of the room, just like a modern flashlight would. It danced around the caved-in ceiling and briefly lit up the remainder of the room, flickering left and right, in an almost random pattern across the dirty, wet tiles and dank, moldy walls.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. I stood stock-still, only a few feet away from the door, hoping that whoever this was would not come inside to take a closer look. Anything more than a cursory inspection would reveal the dirt tracks I had invariably left while climbing in and out of my hideout, inevitably leading to a more thorough search. And if the light of the lantern, or whatever created that beam of light, were to shine directly on me, Shadow Skin would be next to useless. Luckily, the room was dull enough that it apparently did not warrant further inspection, as the light withdrew after just a few seconds and I could hear soft steps moving away. The lack of shouting, grunting, and stomping on the ground made it quite apparent that this had not been a goblin. Maybe it was a fellow human? Suddenly excited, I threw caution to the wind and moved toward the door. I wasn¡¯t going to run out screaming or anything foolish like that, but I did want to see who or what I was dealing with. I stopped, still covered in the darkness of the shadows cast by the half-open door, and searched the room ahead with my eyes. There was no one. What the fuck? Unless he, if it was a man, had suddenly sprinted away, he couldn¡¯t be more than fifteen feet away. My eyes flickered around the room, trying to make sense of what I saw. Or rather making sense of what I didn¡¯t see. Suddenly, I noticed the dirt about twenty feet to my left shift a tiny bit. It wasn¡¯t much. Just the swirling of dust, and some partially decayed fabric moving a few inches to the side. But it was enough to catch my attention. The moment my eyes focused on the spot, I could suddenly make out a person making its way through the debris toward the next door. And, abruptly, I noticed other minute changes in the environment. Almost magically ¨C or, perhaps, in fact magically ¨C two more people appeared out of nowhere. Each one of them wore dark clothing that somehow made the eye almost skid off of them, like water being repelled by a well-oiled coat. It was as if my eyes tried to tell my brain that there really wasn¡¯t anything there, but my mind insisting that there was a fucking person right in my line of sight. Which definitely felt weird. Eventually, I adjusted to the strange effect and was able to focus reasonably well on them, even though my eyes occasionally twitched, like from a nervous tick. Which was fucking annoying. But at least I could see them now. They were heavily equipped with weapons, leather armor, backpacks, and each had a shielded lamp in their hand. And clearly, they were not from or of the dungeon. Not like the goblins. And given their equipment, they hadn¡¯t fallen into the dungeon by accident. Unlike me. So, obviously, it was a planned expedition. Or at least these people were generally well prepared for such a thing as investigating a dungeon. But who had equipment like that? Was there anyone in Lake Placid that I thought likely to have a high-quality sword and dagger, an archaic-looking type of lamp that in all likelihood worked with magical crystals and, on top of all that, a full set of well-crafted leather armor and ominously black clothing that seemed to repel casual observation? Hell no. Unless things had changed dramatically during the five days I had been stuck down here, there was no way that the people in Lake Placid had suddenly turned into well-equipped, proficient adventurers. And then one of the figures took of its leather cap, and turned a tiny bit to the side, fiddling around with a strap on the back of the cap. And this was just enough that I could see more of its face. Immediately, my jaw almost dropped to the floor - high cheekbones, beautiful lustrous blond hair, aquiline nose, and pointy ears ¨C perfectly symmetric facial features, to the degree that it almost made my eyes hurt. ¡°Legolas,¡± I whispered, completely flabbergasted. While my brain tried to catch up to this incredible sight, desperately trying to form a coherent thought, Legolas put his cap back on and started moving. And immediately, I was struck by the grace that belied his tall, lanky body. It was almost like a dancer moving through a routine, with perfect pose and style. ¡°Elves¡­ they are fucking real!¡± I mumbled to myself. I scrutinized the other figures more closely and saw too many similarities to suspect that these were anything but elves as well. Fucking elves. I still couldn¡¯t believe it. But elves or not, were they friendly? If stories were any indication, the worst that could happen would be that they would be haughty, even arrogant. Or speciest. Well, that last one was kind of bad considering that I wasn¡¯t an elf. That said, it might be worth the risk regardless because I had to admit that I was kind of screwed. There was nowhere for me to go unless I could manage to take out the king and his entourage all by myself. Which seemed like a long shot. Before I could further make up my mind, movement from the double door leading to the throne room made me shrink back into the shadows of my room. A group of three goblins, carrying a, presumably empty, food basked was entering the grand chamber, on their merry way back to the kitchen. They never made it. With efficiency and speed that was hard to believe, the elves drew their swords and then approached, moving almost leisurely, the goblins from three sides. And the goblins never even saw them coming. Until their heads fell off their shoulders, but by then it was too late, obviously. But despite their efficiency, the elves made a crucial mistake - they ignored the door through which the goblins had entered the room. And there was a fourth goblin. And cloak of hiding or not, it was hard to miss three goblins suddenly losing their head. The goblin, even tinier than usual, clearly the runt of the litter, made a whimpering noise and backed away from the grand chamber, before rushing headlong into the hallway, screaming in a high-pitched voice, almost like a child. Immediately, the elves whirled around, and the one closest to the door moved with terrifying speed toward the little goblin to silence it. But the damage was done. From the direction of the throne room, a ferocious scream reverberated through the corridor, full of primal rage and fury. And then the air itself seemed to get heavy, like a thick blanket pressing down on me, and my body began to shake uncontrollably in panic. A fear that was powerful enough to freeze me on the spot, unable to make my legs move despite my desperation to escape. I could feel warm piss dribbling down my leg and snot running from my nose. But still, I could not move. Which gave me the feeling of d¨¦j¨¤ vu from my years in the wheelchair. I HATED feeling helpless, stuck without being able to move, waiting for help for everything and anything. Never again. Furious, I fought the pressure. I was not going to roll over and just give up, just stand there, shaking, waiting for the end. No, I had overcome terrible odds during these last days. I had recovered my body, and I was not going to yield to some mental mindfuckery. And then, slowly, inch by inch, I clawed my way back into control. It wasn¡¯t a physical contest, but it was a battle nonetheless. A struggle against an invisible opponent, a presence that had casually blanketed a whole fucking room in a mental attack. But I was going to resist. After minutes, or perhaps just seconds, my mind slowly cleared up, like a fog receding from the power of the sun, and I was able to think coherently again. Slowly, I shook my head, trying to dispel the last remnants of the oppressive feeling, before wiping the snot from my nose. ¡°What the fucking hell was that?¡± I mumbled to myself, mostly because I needed to hear my own voice. Something to calm me down further. And it was not as if the heaviness in the air was completely gone. It was more that I was able to ignore it, just like¡­ just like with the mushrooms. I now realized the feeling had been similar. This pressure exerted on my mind. Only that with the mushrooms, it had been my own dreams and imaginations and not raw terror as in this case. And, looking into the grand chamber, I could see that it had badly shaken the elves. One of them was cowering on the floor, while the others were staring wide-eyed at the hallway from where the scream had come, frozen in place, weapons dropped to the floor. But I had to give them credit. Only a few seconds after I had broken the effect of that mind attack, they shook off enough of its impact to start moving. And instead of running away, as I thought they would, they positioned themselves along the wall and behind a column next to the entrance area, preparing to ambush whoever, or whatever was going to come through. Brave. But also a bit foolish, in my opinion. Based on the raw power of that mind attack, and the volume of the roar, I suspected that I, for one, was out of my depth. At least in a straight-up encounter. Which, ambush or not, this was going to turn into, I thought. And even though I empathized with the elves, and still felt dazzled by their beauty, pose, and, well, elvish awesomeness, I was not going to get myself slaughtered by rushing out there and trying to help. Not, at least, before I had any idea of what they were facing. Chapter 29 – Royal Rumble And I did not have to wait long to find out. Within a minute, the pounding of feet announced the arrival of the vanguard of whatever was coming. And the reality was decidedly less scary than my imagination had made me believe - it was the comically overburdened goblins from the throne room that stormed like an undisciplined mob through the double doors into the grand chamber. One of them had the presence of mind to have a crossbow at the ready and stayed slightly back. Not that it was going to help the creature in any way, because that made it a prime target to be taken out by a sneak attack from one of the two elves pressed flat against the wall. But at least it showed some tactical understanding of correct positioning for combat, which the other four goblins completely lacked ¨C instead of scouting the room, they just had blundered into it, which made them ready to be picked off by a prepared opponent. And rather than guarding each other¡¯s side or back, they were running around, screaming in their guttural voices. Based on those shouts, it was also quite clear that the dominating roar from earlier had not come from any of those goblins. Which meant that something else was still about to come. My guess was that is was going to be the King of Lard. Of course, there was still the old geezer gob, and, honestly, I was more worried about that one, but it seemed unlikely that such a reverberating scream had come from a wizened little goblin. And this was the second mistake the elves made. Rather than wait for the real threat to arrive, and I had no doubt that the elves could easily take apart those gobs, the elves chose to go for it. The one I had termed Legolas seemed to almost glide into position behind the crossbow goblin and, with a smooth movement, slid his sword into its unprotected armpit. With a gurgling scream, the goblin reflexively shot the crossbow bolt into empty space across the room and then collapsed to the floor. The other elf on the far side of the room, I decided to call him Elrond because of his dark hair, went right for the back of the two goblins in the middle, his attack perfectly synchronized with the strike by Legolas. Rather than go for a killing stroke, he attempted to cripple the opponents, a strategy that I whole-heartedly approved of, considering that the elves were outnumbered. His sword cut through the tendons at the back of the knee of one of the goblins, and, just as the others were turning around he stabbed the second one in the face with the dagger in his off-hand. I guess stabbing in the face did not really qualify as an attempt to cripple. But whatever. It worked. The goblin dropped its weapons and clutched its face with its claws, whimpering in agony. And just like that, a three-against-five situation had effectively turned into a fight of three against two. Without Glorfindel, the last of the three elves, having to even bend a finger. Which was not to say that he stayed out of the fight. Quite the opposite. As the two remaining gobs raised their weapons to attack Elrond, who seemed slightly unbalanced and out of position, Glorfindel stepped away from his cover behind the column and raised his hands. Within split seconds, I saw sparks dancing along his arms and the buzzing of a powerful electrical charge was drowning out all other noise. And before the goblins could react to this latest development, lightning zapped across the room into the two remaining out-of-their depth goblins, causing them to jerk spasmodically, while the stink of ozone and burned flesh filled the air. Before the elves could finish the two injured goblins, the double doors to the grand chamber almost flew out of their frame as the gigantic mass of the goblin king forged through. And while the sight of the jiggling stomach, the humongous man boobs, and the quintuple chin almost made me giggle, the sudden pressure descending on the room made me instead shrink back further into the shadows. And, truth be told, I had always been leery of fat guys. There was just something intimidating about them, because I knew that even though I could run circles around them, or at least used to be able to do so, one of their punches was going to take me out. They had to carry around all that body mass after all, so there had to be some serious muscle underneath that fat. If they could walk, that is. In the case of the goblin king, I would¡¯ve bet anything that he¡¯d be unable to even move. He reminded me very much of the type of person you see in the news, the kind that was stuck in their room because they were too big to get their ass out of bed any longer. But I was dead wrong. Fuck. Bad choice of words. Either way, the Emperor of Blubber wasn¡¯t even teetering. In fact, it was surprisingly agile from what I could tell. And it was swinging the gigantic Morningstar, that I had been ridiculing before, with such ease, that it made it almost look unreal. As if the fucking thing was made out of Styrofoam. Only that it clearly wasn¡¯t. Still, three against one, I liked the elves¡¯ odds. Until the fighting started. When the humongous goblin had entered the chamber, the elves had split apart, forming a rough triangle around their lone opponent. Glorfindel¡­ fuck, I really should have called him something different. Why did I stick to Lord of the Rings anyway? That name sounded just lame to me. But whatever.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Anyway, Glorfindel was dancing around in front of the goblin king, trying to draw him into attacking. The plan was pretty obvious to me and not a bad one¡­ but it hinged on the goblin boss falling for it. Which it decidedly didn¡¯t. Even from a distance, I thought that I could make out the fierce cunning in its eyes, as it assessed the three elves, which it apparently had no trouble seeing, despite their eye-bending cloaks. And rather than falling for the fake attacks by Glorfindel, it instead counter-feinted, by pretending to fall for one of Glorfindel¡¯s tentative strikes. But instead of lunging forward to exploit the fake opening, as its body movement seemed to indicate, it pivoted on its heel, impossibly graceful and swift for someone of its bulk, and swept its massive Morningstar sideways toward Elrond. The heavy weapon was whistling through the air and I closed my eyes in anticipation of it splattering the body of Elrond into bloody pieces. But somehow, someway, Elrond bent his body out of the path of the weapon. Obviously, I missed the moment because I had my fucking eyes closed. But when I opened them again, I saw an unharmed Elrond and Legolas jumping forward and, using the full force of his momentum and body weight, slide the whole length of his sword into the back of the massive gob. Well, fuck. That had been easier than I had thought. Perhaps those elves had done everything right after all, and it had been my hubris to ¡°know¡± better. Either way, I was glad about the outcome, because no matter what, goblins were bad news and elves¡­ well, might be good news. They¡¯d better be. Fucking weirdos, though. They stood silently around the goblin king that had fallen to its knees, waiting for it to¡­ die? Not a sound between the three of them. No talking, not even grunting. It was as if they had been switched on mute. And the goblin boss was not doing so hot. A red nimbus briefly flashed across its body, and it slowly sagged forward, basically resting on its prodigious stomach, rather than the trunk-like legs. Quietly, Glorfindel turned toward the two still living goblin guards, presumably to finish them off. And that was when the goblin king made its move. With frightening speed, it launched itself at Glorfindel, managing to get a hand on his leg, despite the almost superhuman reflexes displayed by the elf. And for the first time since the thunderous roar that started off the showdown with the goblin king, I saw the elves flustered. After a moment of hesitation, Legolas grabbed the sword buried in the back of the goblin king and pulled it out of its flesh. Instead of blood spilling out of the lethal wound, there was only a wet, sucking noise, audible all the way to my location, and a tiny trickle of half-congealed blood, staining the fabric around the wound. And the goblin king hardly reacted at all. That had to hurt like a bitch, but the big mofo didn¡¯t even flinch. Suddenly another red light briefly covered the body of the goblin king, and when it disappeared, the wound was gone. I licked my suddenly dry lips. Fucking regeneration. How do you beat something like that? I am sure the elves had noticed the same thing, but I had to give them credit¡­ rather than getting the hell out of there, they tried their best to get their comrade out of the clutches of the enormous goblin. Legolas was going berserk, slashing and stabbing at the exposed back of the goblin king, leaving bloody gashes all over, with little or no reaction by the massive gob. Elrond focused his efforts on the arm that was holding the struggling Glorfindel, but it almost seemed as if his slashes were¡­ weak? They barely managed to cut into the arm and elicited little to no reaction from the goblin king. The only effect of all the attacks seemed to be that the goblin had to focus just enough attention on its balance and maintaining its grip, that Glorfindel had another few seconds longer to live. At least that is what it looked like from my position. But then Glorfindel raised his arms again, and lighting started to buzz along his wrists and hands. With a massive crack, the electricity discharged into the head of the goblin, frying the skin on its head and a good number of its brain cells, I was sure. But even that did not seem to faze the gob overly much. It merely shook its head, as if trying to get rid of some annoying buzz and then, with a grunt, pulled Glorfindel within reach and slammed its fist right into his head. With a sickening crack, the elf¡¯s skull caved in like an eggshell hit by a hammer, and a pool of blood immediately spread around the corpse. Fuck. That was awful. And I was standing in hiding like a coward, which did not make me feel any better. But frankly, I was not sure what I could have contributed to that fight. The way the elves were hacking and slashing at the goblin to little effect, told me that another melee fighter would not have made much difference. Especially, because it was not only the case that wounds didn¡¯t bother the goblin much, but, apparently, its skin was extremely tough and hard to penetrate even for these well-trained elven fighters. Was that the result of high levels? Or perhaps high vitality and endurance? Or just natural armor of a goblin king? I had experienced the same with the shadow cat, but this seemed on a different level. Meanwhile, Elrond and Legolas did not react kindly to the death of their companion and continued to lay into the goblin with everything they had. And still, they did not make any noise ¨C no screams, shouts, curses¡­ nothing. And me? My brain told me to go and join them, to try and make a difference, demonstrate my helpfulness so that they could help me in turn, but my feet were frozen to the ground. And it was not just fear, even though there was plenty of that. No, I was mesmerized by the unfolding drama, the clash of elegance against brute force, and petrified by the sinking feeling that brute force would end up reigning supreme. Just when I thought that the end of the fight was a foregone conclusion, a blood-red sphere of pulsating light surrounded Legolas, and his sword strokes increased in speed and power by a significant margin. His slashes left deep wounds in the body of the goblin lord, forcing it to back away, slowly but surely. And then Elrond rejoined the fray after having gone through a similar transformation. And despite the astounding ability of the goblin to regenerate all its wounds, the injuries kept on coming more quickly than they could be healed. And the goblin king seemed to¡­ shrink? I could not believe my eyes, but it felt as if the morbidly obese goblin had lost about a third of its body weight. And now that I had noticed, I could see the body shrinking with my naked eye in real-time. Given the connection between healing and nutrition that I already had learned about, it seemed reasonable to assume that the fat in the body of the goblin lord provided the energy to heal, but that fat was ultimately finite. Which meant that all the two elves had to do was to keep laying into the gob. The goblin king was still a dangerous foe, though. When it was backing up, it had done so strategically, returning to the point where it had dropped its Morningstar. And as deadly as its hands had proven to be, the massive Morningstar was a completely different level of threat. And the elves were wary of that as well. Whereas before they had attacked with almost reckless abandon, they were quite a bit more cautious now. Despite all that, after a couple of more minutes, the end was neigh. The goblin king was visibly weakening and by then only a shadow of its former self. Its weapon had become almost useless as a result, because it had barely enough power to swing it properly, much less use it for effective attacks that might surprise the elves. That said, the elves looked worse for wear as well, with the blood-red aura around them having disappeared a little while ago, making them look much more ordinary. But the eventual victor was not in doubt. Chapter 30 – A scavenger? And then everything changed. The shriveled goblin appeared in the doorway and surveyed the carnage in the room with a somewhat displeased expression on its face. Displeased not shocked, or scared, or¡­ or any other reasonable reaction to seeing all the goblin melee fighters hacked to bits and pieces, including the king, which was on its last leg. Legolas had noticed the appearance of the wizened goblin geezer as well and was sliding smoothly toward him, sword raised and ready to slice the old chap into ribbons. My intuition told me that it was not going to happen. And it turned out that my intuition was spot on. Suddenly, the enormous mental pressure from earlier returned, but this time as if on steroids. With a gasp, I sank to my knees, trying desperately to resist the oppressive aura that seemed to blanket the whole area into a suffocating mental quagmire. I knew instinctively that a single slip in my focus, a tiny flaw in my mental defenses, would be the end of me. It felt like there was a bottomless pit waiting, a space full of darkness suffused with streaks of violent red, waiting to snuff out my consciousness and perhaps even my soul. I had never been a real believer in the existence of a soul, and the associated religious tenets of life after death, deities, and any particular purpose in life. But perhaps I had to revise my opinion. Maybe there was something to it. Because I felt something, deep inside of me, that reacted to the mental strain that was put on me. Or maybe it was just those stupid fleshy leaves that I had eaten, giving me a stomach cramp at the most inopportune moment. Faced with the mental pressure, fighting for staying conscious, it was hard to separate things. All other sensations kind of blended together into a sludge of peripheral impressions But whatever it was, a squirming soul or just an ordinary stomach cramp, it felt fucking uncomfortable. And I wanted it to stop. But short of running out there and try to run the old goblin through with my sword, I did not really have many options. And I was not going to do that, no thank you. So I had to endure. Every second it got worse ¨C the pressure kept on ramping up, and I could feel blood starting to drip out of my nose. I faded in and out of consciousness, desperately attempting to stay alert and focused on my mental defense. It bit my lips until I could taste the metallic tang of blood; I dug my fingernails into my legs, trying to ground myself in reality. Nothing helped. In a desperate gamble, I tried to put my body on autopilot, blend out the mental pressure and find an inner haven of tranquility and safety. In short, I attempted to fucking meditate while being pummeled by outside forces that I neither understood nor was able to effectively resist any other way. At first, I went with the tried and true method of imagining waves gently lapping against a shoreline while relaxing one muscle after another. Like in those yoga meditation movies. ¡°Namaste, Om, Prana¡­¡± I mumbled softly, listing the few terms I remembered from the single Yoga class I had ever taken, hoping that something would stick and do something for me. Of course, that didn¡¯t do shit. Slowly, I felt myself spiraling into unconsciousness. With the last shred of awareness and willpower, I decided to try one more thing - I moved all my available silver mana into my brain. And for a moment, the pressure receded, as if a silvery sun was burning away the fog of oblivion that was threatening the core of my being. But then the silvery orb of salvation began to stutter and turn purple, shot through with veins of weakly pulsating silver. And the silver veins kept on receding, and with it, my consciousness finally succumbed. ------------------------------------------------------ When I came to my senses, I found myself lying on the cold tiles on the floor, partially obscured by the shadows cast by the door. At first, I had no idea where I was and why I was on the floor, with a splitting headache to boot, but within seconds the memories returned. How much time had passed? I didn¡¯t have the foggiest. Ever so slowly and carefully, I raised my head, trying to get a good look at where the battle had taken place. From my position on the floor, I was not able to see anyone, but I did hear a crunching noise coming from the location of the fight. So clearly I had missed some time, but something or someone was still there. Or, perhaps, something new had arrived while I had been out. The crunching made me think of some scavengers chewing on bones. A chilling image if there ever was one, because if I was not very mistaken, the elves had been on the losing end of the fight after the goblin shaman had made his appearance. Granted, there had been more goblin corpses than total elves, but seeing dead goblins had become already par for the course. Which was kind of scary in its own way. I knew that humans are good at adjusting to new environments and changed situations and all that. But to see this type of pragmatism when it comes to death and destruction in myself was something else entirely. But, given the world I was in, it probably was helpful. I¡¯d have died several times over if I had shied away from killing goblins ¨C pacifism and humanistic ideals are for those with the luxury of safety and wealth, not for those scrambling to just survive. And now I had a choice to make. One option was to slink back into my hiding spot and later try and find some other exit. Or perhaps give the chimney a shot. The other option was to go out and see where that noise was coming from and scavenge some of the equipment of the dead elves. Those cloaks, the gleaming weapons, and, equally important, the lanterns were pretty compelling reasons not to run away, tail tugged between my legs.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. Maybe they even had some food fit for human consumption. And just maybe the elves had won. After all, if they had one magical item, they might have easily had more that could have turned the tide of battle. Or another special ability like that red mist that had temporarily buffed them like crazy. Mind made up, I carefully got up on my knees, trying to stay covered in the shadows of the door as much as possible. With some delay, I remembered to recast Shadow Skin, increasing my chances of staying hidden and then slowly made my way out into the grand chamber. I¡¯m not gonna lie, stepping out into the brightly lit room made me incredibly nervous, but needs must when the devil drives. I could make out the corpses of the five goblins and, partially hidden behind the column, the body of Glorfindel. All I could make out was his head, and one of his arms. And he was clearly dead as could be with his head caved in, and brain matter splattered all around. But then the crunching noise recurred, and Glorfindel¡¯s body twitched. Fuck. That almost gave me a heart attack. Memories of late-night sessions of ¡®Train to Busan¡¯ and ¡¯28 days later¡¯ briefly resurfaced, instantly making me ready to hightail it out of there ¨C I was not prepared to deal with zombies or ghouls. But Glorfindel had already stopped twitching, while the crunching noise persisted. So unless zombification involved crunching noises, I figured it was unlikely to be that. Much more likely for it to be a scavenger, feasting on the lower part of Glorfindel¡¯s body and thus making the rest twitch around randomly. Simultaneously relieved and revulsed, I grabbed my sword tighter, and carefully sneaked closer, always keeping the column between myself and whatever was chewing on poor Glorfindel. A couple of times, there was a break in the noise, and I could hear some rustling as if something changed position. Both times I froze, anxiously waiting to see if the scavenger had noticed me. But after a moment of silence, the crunching started again and I felt confident in getting closer. Just a few more steps. As I changed my approach path slightly, I was able to catch a first glimpse of the mystery creature, gnawing on dead bodies. It turned out it was not a rabid dog or a pack of giant rats¡­ It was the former King of Flab, now decidedly less massive than his previous self. And he was¡­ I had to look away to avoid throwing up. The savage creature was ripping out the entrails of Glorfindel and stuffing them in his oversized mouth like a kid might slurp down an extra-long spaghetti. Fuck, that was bad. Despite looking away, I could not get rid of the image of the goblin¡¯s bloody visage and the glee with which it was eating the intestines of its vanquished foe. I felt the bile rise in the back of my throat, and I resolved to take out the mofo, no matter the cost. And, truth be told, this was probably going to be my best shot. There was no other goblin around, and the goblin king was utterly focused on its feast. And while it was a far cry from its previous size, I could already see it regaining some of its mass. How that worked, I was not sure. I mean, building up all those fat reserves should take significant time¡­ but there was always magic. As if on cue, I noticed a red flash surrounding the goblin¡¯s body, just like when it had been regenerating from grievous injuries. And, without the distraction of a fast-moving battle, it was quite obvious that the flash had originated from a gold ring, with a huge ruby inserted on top, snugly sitting on one of the gob¡¯s fat fingers. Well, well. That was good to know. Momentarily distracted, I failed to notice a piece of wood on the floor and inadvertently kicked it with my next step. Immediately, I froze, desperately hoping that the goblin had not noticed, praying that it was too absorbed in his gross meal, not paying attention to its surroundings. At first, there was no reaction, and I was suddenly hopeful that I might have dodged a bullet there¡­ but then the goblin king slowly, almost casually turned its head, looking straight at my position. And Shadow Skin or not, it was quite clear that the goblin was able to see me. Slowly, all the while grinning menacingly, it got up from its crouching position, and, with blood and gore dripping off its chin, it grabbed its massive Morningstar and started moving toward me. And I was just fucking standing there, petrified. ¡°Move, Daniel,¡± I shouted mentally at myself, but my body would not obey. Perhaps, seeing the bloody mouth, with bits and pieces of elven flesh stuck between the teeth, froze me. Or, maybe, it was the manic grin on the goblin¡¯s face or the almost palpable aura of violence and mayhem that bore down on me. Whatever the reason, it temporarily took away my ability to move. Until it was almost too late. When the big goblin was about five feet away from me, it started to swing its massive Morningstar and rushed toward me, clearly attempting to end the fight in one, devastating strike. In the last second, I finally was able to overcome my paralysis, much too late to attempt a block or fancy evasive move. So it did the only thing I could¡­ I just let myself drop to the ground. Clearly, under normal circumstances, that was not a prudent move, as it would allow for an easy follow-up attack by my opponent. But frankly, I had no other option remaining. When my body hit the floor, I immediately rolled further to my right, anticipating another strike of the Morningstar. Which saved my life. The spiked metal head obliterated the floor tile, where my chest had been just a split second earlier, sending shards of tile flying in all directions. Not willing to just keep dodging, I swept my sword across the floor, counting on the goblin to be too immobile to evade an attack like that. And, indeed, my counter attack may have surprised the goblin, because I was able to score a solid hit on the back of one of its tree trunk-like legs. My elation quickly turned to fear, though, when I realized that I had hardly even penetrated the skin of the goblin, and the little damage I had caused was immediately healed with another flash of red light, covering the goblin¡¯s body. Even worse, the goblin had mostly ignored my attack in favor of preparing its own attack ¨C another overhead strike with its weapon, going straight for my head. Woefully out of position and balance, all I could do was roll across the floor again, to try and gain some distance between the goblin and me ¨C not the way I would have wanted our fight to begin. This time, I focused on getting up, instead of trying some weak and ineffectual counterattack. Of course, the fat gob did not sit around waiting for me to get in position¡­ it went right after me, with another vicious swing of its Morningstar. At least now, I was a bit more mobile and was able to evade the swing by merely stepping back, giving me an additional moment to catch my bearings. The situation was not good. Despite being a lot skinnier than it used to be, the goblin still packed a mean punch and had plenty of striking speed to go with it. The only weaknesses I could make out so far were its footwork, and the ungainly weapon it was using. While a Morningstar is an excellent weapon in a battle, especially if heavily armored, it is less advantageous in a duel-like setting. And the footwork wasn¡¯t bad, but having to move all that mass around, even if substantially diminished, implied that the goblin was not quite as nimble as it could have been. Or perhaps it was not a lack of footwork, but simple inertia - once the goblin¡¯s mass was moving, it was hard to change direction. The next time the Morningstar was whistling past my head, I jumped forward, stabbing at the prodigious gut of the goblin. An easy target, and, luckily, the tip of my sword had a good deal more penetrating power than the edge, so it actually caused a significant wound. Not that it seemed to bother the goblin overly much. Instead of falling to its knees, or stumbling backward as any normal person, or goblin, would do, it just grunted. And then, with another of its toothy smiles, it swung its heavy weapon right at me, as if nothing had happened. ¡°Fuck,¡± I screamed while letting go of my sword and jumping back just in time to avoid the spiked metalhead. Rationally, the lack of response by the goblin to being impaled should not have come as a surprise, since I had seen just that in its fight with the elves. But it was something altogether different to experience it directly, with my own sword stuck in its gut. Desperately, I looked around, trying to find another weapon, when my eyes fell on a war ax, half-buried underneath one of the goblin corpses. That was exactly what I needed to get through that thick skin and do some real damage. Chapter 31 – Finger Food Instead of weaving my way around my opponent¡¯s powerful attacks, I simply backpedaled to gain some separation and then sprinted toward the goblin corpse to pick up the ax. The solid heft of the weapon and metallic-shimmering wave-pattern of the crescent-shaped blade made my confidence surge. Fighting someone as sturdy as a fucking tree? Fight them using an ax. A simple truism. ¡°Come on, fatty,¡± I taunted the goblin waddling toward me. ¡°Chop, chop!¡± Of course, I had no fucking clue how to fight with an ax. Beyond pretending to be a lumberjack, that is. But, I mean, how difficult could it be to hit something with an ax? Swing sideways using your core strength, step into the strike, and¡­ well, hit the fucking tree. Easier than baseball, I imagined. Obviously, I had no idea how to defend using an ax, but that seemed less relevant anyway because I had no desire to block those massive swings by the goblin lord. Despite the decreased size of the guy, there was still some serious power in those arms, and any direct hit would probably just break my bones if I tried to block with the shaft of my ax. So weaving around and dodging the powerful swings was the plan. And whacking the goblin until it couldn¡¯t move any longer. That plan worked out reasonably well, at least the dodging part. For a few exchanges, I evaded the goblin¡¯s strikes matrix-style and got in a few counterattacks, that left bloody wounds, but otherwise didn¡¯t have much of an impact, it seemed. ¡°You are toast, motherfucker,¡± I cackled, more to pump myself than anything. A little bit of trash talk never hurts. Unless it does. The goblin¡¯s little pig eyes focused on me with sudden burning intensity, and it¡­ smirked. As if it had understood my words and dismissed them as utterly irrelevant. And then it caught me by surprise. Instead of swinging its Morningstar in a wide arc as it had done previously, an attack that was easily evaded by merely taking a step back, this time, the goblin let go for the heavy weapon midswing, hurling it right toward where I was going to inevitably end up. Needless to say, tossing the weapon completely blindsided me. In the last split second, I managed to raise my ax to at least partially deflect the weapon, but it still hit me like a steam train. Even though I only suffered a glancing blow, that was enough to crack a couple of my ribs and tear deep, bloody gashes into my torso. Before I could recover, the goblin bull-rushed me, slamming its shoulders into my chest and toppling me to the ground. Immediately, I tried wiggling my way out from underneath the massive barrel of fat pressing down on me, but the goblin outweighed me by a factor of two or three. Wincing in pain from my injured ribcage, I tried everything I could think of, from slamming the shaft of my ax into the head of the goblin, to pressing my thumb into its little pig-eyes, and even drawing my dagger and stabbing the sweaty, stinking pile of blubber on top of me in the side as quickly as I could. But nothing worked. The goblin simply shrugged off whatever I was doing. With my back pressed against the floor and half-smothered by fat rolls, I simply did not have the angle and leverage to deal significant damage. The goblin¡¯s stinking breath made me gag, and slowly I was losing consciousness. And I knew that this was it. The end of my journey. With a last surge of fear-driven strength, I heaved with all my power, trying to roll out from underneath the stinking body, but all I got, as a result, was sweaty manboobs pressing down on my face, as the goblin reasserted its position. What a fucking ignoble way to go, I thought, while darkness descended on me. ¡­ ¡­ And then suddenly I could breathe again. Air. Fucking. Sweet. Air. After a moment, my vision cleared as consciousness returned. And I realized that the weight on my chest was gone. And then I noticed that something was arresting my arm. I twisted my head around and found myself suddenly face to face with the ugly goblin mofo. ¡°Fuck,¡± I hollered and recoiled, heart thumping wildly in my chest. The goblin held on to my arm and grinned at me toothily. ¡°What the hell do you want from me?¡± I shouted, while desperately trying to free my arm from the vice-like grip of the goblin. ¡°Let me go!¡± All I got in response was a little chuckle. I reached around for a weapon, something to swat the goblin over the head and get my arm out of its clutches, but they were spread around me, just out of reach, tempting me, teasing me. I started hitting the goblin and even kicking it, but it did not even blink in response.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. And then I heard a cracking noise, like a dry twig breaking, and pain shot up my arm. ¡°Fuck,¡± I screamed again, this time watching in horror my little finger sticking out at an unnatural angle. And then the goblin grabbed the ring finger. ¡°Shit, don¡¯t do it. I was just kidding about the motherfucker thing, and the chop, chop. Really, ther¡­¡± With a crack, my second finger broke, this time white bone visible, as splinters cut through the flesh. For a moment, I almost fainted, but then the pain brought me right back to the present. Tears streaming down my face, I just mumbled, ¡°Shit, shit, shit,¡± like a little mantra, all the while rocking back and forth, trying to block out the pain and the desperate situation I was in. The goblin was staring into my face, pig-eyes squinting slightly and its shit-eating grin ever-present. Its teeth were crooked, stained, and still full to bits and pieces from poor Glorfindel¡¯s stomach. And it was waiting for something. Was it looking for some kind of reaction? Maybe it expected full-on panic? Almost there. I desperately yanked my arm away from the goblin, but barely even budged its hold. How was that guy so fucking strong? It wasn¡¯t fair. And that red ring was right there, in front of my face, on the hand that was arresting my arm. But without a weapon, it might as well have been on the other side of the room. And frankly, at the moment, I was more concerned with escaping than the completely unfair regeneration ability of the goblin. The goblin slowly raised my hand, and I resigned myself to it breaking another one of my fingers. I steeled my nerves against the expected pain, but still could not help but swear violently when the sharp flash of agony raced through my body. ¡°I am gonna fucking kill you,¡± I cursed, more so because it helped me stave off full-blown panic than a belief that I would get out of this situation. Apparently, the goblin did not like my more subdued reaction this time. Its smile was replaced by a frown, or perhaps a pout. And then it raised my hand again. For a moment, I thought it was going to break my index finger next, but then it raised the hand to its mouth. ¡°Are you fucking sick? You¡¯re gonna suck my finger, or what?¡± I swore through clenched teeth. But then it chomped down on my pinky, and a red-hot bolt of pain raced through my body. It lowered my hand, now missing the little finger, and proudly chewed on my pinky in front of my shocked eyes. Just to prove a point, I think, the goblin then released my hand, only holding on to my ring finger with his meaty sausage digits pressed down like a fucking clamp. That was the moment when I was losing it. I had been trying to keep my shit together for the off chance that I might escape, but the situation seemed hopeless. I started screaming every vile thing I could think of, struggled with all my might, spat, bit, headbutted,¡­ and the goblin king started laughing. That was precisely what it had wanted, it seemed. And fuck me if I was going to give it the satisfaction. I forced myself to calm down, to not give it what it craved. A small act of defiance, and one I might not be able to sustain, but my pride demanded it. Perhaps this was the greatest threat I had faced yet, but I wasn¡¯t gonna give up that easily. The moment I stopped screaming and thrashing around, the laughter stopped, and the goblin king glared at me. After realizing that I did not intend to beg or scream any longer, it spat part of my fingernail at me, still connected to some bloody tissue. I did not react in the slightest, staring with a stony expression at the goblin. With an angry scowl, the goblin squatted fully on the floor, spreading its legs to the side, like a walrus on land. If walruses had legs, anyway. And then it raised my hand to its mouth, watching my face, clearly waiting for a reaction, expecting fear or even panic. But instead, ice-cold clarity washed through my body, as I realized that I had one tiny chance. And I had to get the timing just right, or I¡¯d be done for. The goblin was still holding my finger with just its thumb and index finger like one might hold a sucker, a tasty morsel to be put into the mouth delicately. Or at least as delicately as two digits, each the size of a cucumber, squeezing my finger with the force of a steam press can be. And when the attention of the goblin shifted to my index finger in eager anticipation of the newest treat, I pushed all the black mana I had accumulated during the previous few seconds into the index finger, before jerking back my hand with all the force I could muster. With a surprised expression on its face, the goblin lord stared at its fingers, its brain clearly trying to figure out why it was unable to keep a grip on my suddenly dark, malleable flesh. And then I was free. Immediately, I rolled over to the war ax, ignoring the sharp stabs of pain from my ribcage and my hand. In one smooth motion, I stood up and swung the ax around with all the force I could muster, hitting the goblin square on the back of its head. And while the ax only marginally penetrated the thick skull of the gob, it caused it to completely lose its balance and fall flat on the stone floor. Coupled with its walrus-like position, this was my chance. I could have run away and try to recover from my wounds, but all I could think of was payback. Tit for tat. And more. I was laying into the gob with all I had. Which wasn¡¯t all that much, to be honest, mainly because I had to swing the ax one-handed, but it was enough to keep the goblin off balance. I kept on chopping into its legs whenever it attempted to get on its feet and picked on the arms when it tried to turn its body around. And I tried taking off the finger with the ruby ring. But the goblin protected that one pretty well, preferring to unbalance itself rather than potentially lose the ring. Soon I settled into a rhythm, slowly working my way through the goblin¡¯s fat reserves. Because that is what it was. A battle of attrition of my endurance versus the goblin¡¯s regeneration. And I could see my progress. Slowly, but surely, the goblin was shrinking, turning from an oversized barrel of lard to a pudgy, tallish goblin, to a skinny runt with vast layers of loose skin draped all around it. Situation under control, I was mostly worried about either the mind-fucking geezer coming back or some random goblin patrol showing up at an inopportune moment before I could finish up. But for once, I lucked out. Maybe the geezer was busy. Or perhaps it was fighting the elves in the throne room. I had no idea. All I cared about was that the goblin king was going to die. Finally, after what felt like hours of heavy chopping, I lifted my arm one last time, aiming a massive chop at the neck of the goblin king. And whereas all the previous chops had failed to deeply cut into the body of the goblin, this last one, finally, severed the spine. Which was not enough to kill the savage creature, but it was enough for me to finally catch a breath. My right arm felt like rubber, and I was barely able to lift the ax any longer. I grabbed my dagger from the floor and slowly trudged over to the vile creature. Rather than prolong its suffering, or god forbid, allow it to recover, I put the dagger against the base of its neck and pushed it inside its brain. A quick death, but after minutes of chopping into the goblin, all my desire for revenge had evaporated. By the end, it was just a matter of finishing the business and tie up loose ends. Once the goblin was finally dead, I slumped to the ground, cradling my throbbing left hand against my chest. This had been a costly fight. And it had been a close call. Again. Eventually, I was going to run out of luck. So I¡¯d better make sure to get stronger quickly to have a fighting chance against a monster like this. Speaking of¡­ the ring. Eagerly, I heaved the goblin¡¯s body over to recover that ruby ring, hoping that it might help me perhaps regenerate my missing finger, or at least deal with the broken ones. In addition to being just an awesome magical gizmo in general. But what I found made me curse yet again¡­ all that was left of the ring was red ruby dust and half molten gold. Chapter 32 – Gramps and the Itch Somewhere around Sweetwater, TX Alison carefully approached the abandoned farm building. At least she thought it was abandoned. There was no light, no movement, and most of the windows were broken. But abandoned did not mean without danger. The worst had been the gigantic cockroaches. Alison shuddered at the memory, but then forced herself to focus on the task. Distractions could mean injury or death. When she reached one of the windows, she paused briefly to listen for any noise that might indicate that the house was not as abandoned as it seemed. Nothing. With a quiet sigh of relief, her shoulders sagged down, and she relaxed a tiny bit. Only now she realized how tense she had been. After she had collected herself, she raised her hand and waved a couple of times, hoping that there was still enough light for the others to see. Darkness was approaching quickly, and it was high time that they found cover for the night because monsters were roaming after sunset. Some of them mutated native creatures, but there were also other¡­ things. Creatures right out of nightmares. A minute later, Hank, De¡¯Andre, and Claire reached Alison, and the four of them made their way into the house, eager for the protection it would provide. De¡¯Andre immediately started moving furniture around to barricade the doors and windows and create a more defensible position, while Hank went into the basement hunting for cans of food or some other edibles left behind by the previous owners. Claire, meanwhile, was sitting on her heels in the corner of the main room, gently rocking back and forth. After a few seconds, Alison cursed and went over to her. ¡°How are you feeling?¡± She whispered quietly. But Claire gave no response at all. Just like it had been for the last few days. She followed along, ran when she was told to run, shat when she was told to shat, but otherwise did not do much at all. ¡°Your mind just snapped, huh?¡± Alison quietly said. ¡°Can¡¯t blame ya. Might be better than this hell. But, you know, the others think that you aren¡¯t pulling your weight and that we should cut you loose. Mind you, not me, but, you know, Hank in particular.¡± Claire didn¡¯t respond. ¡°Hey, Alison, could you help me for a sec with that frame?¡± De¡¯Andre grunted from the kitchen area. ¡°It is a bit unwieldy.¡± With a small pout, Alison got up and helped De¡¯Andre wedge a bed frame into a narrow space between the fridge and the oven, effectively blocking the door to the backyard for anything but smaller critters. ¡°So, De¡¯Andre, I meant to ask you, how do you get along with Hank? He¡¯s a tad condescending, right?¡± ¡°Hmpf, well, yeah, but, you know, he is that type,¡± De¡¯Andre responded distractedly while pushing a mattress behind the frame to stabilize the barrier even further. ¡°Why? Has he said anything to you?¡± ¡°Well, not like directly, but I see how he looks at you and me and Claire. I think we are nothing but baggage to him.¡± ¡°Oh? Well, he didn¡¯t seem exactly enthused when we decided to come along. At least at first. But I think he is alright. A little weird, perhaps,¡± De¡¯Andre responded after hesitating for a moment. ¡°Maybe. But, if, you know¡­ if he gets weird. You will protect me, right?¡± Alison said pleadingly while touching his arm lightly with her hand. De¡¯Andre stared onto her hand, resting on his arm, frozen like a deer caught in the headlights. ¡°Uh, hmm, yeah, of course, Al¡­ Alison. I will, like,¡­ yes.¡± Embarrassed, De¡¯Andre turned around and hustled for more chairs to further protect their little hideout. Suppressing a smile, Alison busied herself with rummaging through the various drawers to see if she could find something useful. She needed a bigger knife. The kitchen knife she had was only about five inches long, which was quite underwhelming when it came to fighting monsters. A short while later, Hank came back up with a couple of boxes filled with all sorts of canned food and even some sweets. ¡°Bingo!¡± He crowed while unloading his treasure. ¡°This should keep us going for a few days, at least. Finally something else than ramen noodles and black beans.¡± ¡°Hank, you are the best,¡± Alison said, smiling radiantly at him. ¡°Do you mind if I take the chocolate? I am dying to eat chocolate! Pretty please?¡± She leaned forward to rummage through the pile of food Hank had provided. ¡°Wait a moment, I think that this should be¡­¡± ¡°Yes?¡± Alison asked, looking up with an innocent expression, all too aware that her low-cut t-shirt was giving Hank quite the spectacular view. ¡°Please?¡± ¡°I¡­ fine. You can have the chocolate,¡± Hank grumbled without taking his eyes away. And then, just like the previous nights, the howling started, and dark shapes approached the house from all directions. -------------------------------------------------- Daniel To be honest, all I wanted to do next was run into my hiding place and recover. My left hand hurt like a bitch, the cracked ribs in my chest sent stabs of blinding pain through my body whenever I moved, and my right arm was almost as useful as a wet noodle after all the hacking and slashing. But¡­ There was only one elven body around, face smashed beyond recognition, and entrails spread all over. So two more elves might be potentially alive. And¡­ fuck, I mean, I wasn¡¯t an altruist or anything, but to leave a person, or an elf, in the hands of these vile creatures rubbed me wrong. If there was anything I could do to save them, I should at least try. Unless the odds were terrible. And it wasn¡¯t all about helping others either. I mean, clearly, I was outmatched in this fucking dungeon, so if I could team up with some cool elves, that would raise my chances exponentially. Plus, I did not have to commit right now. All I had to do was scout the situation and then make up my mind. Maybe the geezer had fallen asleep, and all I needed to do was chop its head off. Yeah, right. Fat chance for that. But before running around helter-skelter, getting into new trouble, I needed to do something about my injuries and salvage some equipment. Quickly, I searched the bodies of the elf and a couple of the goblins and came away with an upgrade to my sword and dagger, each looking as if pattern-welded from different alloys, giving the blade a beautiful appearance and a more flexible feel. A bit like those famous Damascus blades from a few centuries ago. In addition to the magnificent weapons, I grabbed the lantern, its formerly beautiful burnished finish now marred by a couple of big dents, the dark, velvety stealth-cloak, and a blood-soaked shirt that was way too long for me, but better than running around bare-chested. Weirdly enough, the elf did not have any food on it, just a waterskin full of some red liquid. At first, I thought it was wine, but when I took a tentative sip, I immediately had to suppress the urge to vomit when the bitter metallic taste filled my mouth. Shaking my head in disbelief at the vile liquid, I looked around for anything else of use, when my eyes fell on the crown on top of the goblin king¡¯s head. Perhaps crown was too generous of a term¡­ maybe circlet was a more apt description. It consisted of a thin band of metal, probably copper, and attached to it, as if welded, numerous teeth of all ilk. I was no expert on teeth, by any stretch, but a few of the teeth looked like what I thought might be human teeth. The rest¡­ well, some of them seemed quite scary. What struck me was that four of them were still bloody, as if from a very recent kill. And those teeth looked rather scary ¨C long, slightly curved, and wickedly sharp. To top it all off, they seemed to be hollow in the middle, for what purpose was unclear. While I was all for looting, I was not sure if I should pick up that crown. It looked a bit shabby, to be honest. Then again, perhaps it was enchanted? After all, the goblin king surely was some kind of boss monster. Or at least a high leveled monster. After a brief hesitation, I grabbed the circlet with my right hand and pulled it off the goblin¡¯s head. Or I tried to at least. The circlet did not budge. I pulled harder. Finally, when I put even more strength into it, the crown began to move a tiny bit, and then, with a sudden tear, it came loose. Pieces of skin were ripped out of the goblin¡¯s head, which made me realize that the teeth weren¡¯t, as I had thought, purely decorative, but had actually been partially dug into the gobs skull. And the teeth were¡­ moving. Disgusted by the grisly sight, I dropped the revolting crown to the floor and moved a few feet away, keeping my eyes trained on the artifact. There was no telling what kind of magic was imbued in that thing. Maybe I should smash it to smithereens with the ax? But then again, maybe that would lead to a giant explosion or a vengeful spirit or some similar shit¡­ better to just leave it be and forget about it. Instead of wasting even more time, I moved back to my little hiding room to do some healing. Once there, I reluctantly raised my left hand to get a good look at the damage. The pinky was gone, wound still trickling blood. A quick dose of amber mana with healing intent solved the bleeding issue, but, of course, did not return my little finger. If the fat asshole had not eaten it, I might have been able to reattach the digit, but like that, there was nothing left but the fingernail. Could I, perhaps, attach a little finger from the elf or one of the goblins? Could I overcome the rejection from my body? After all, people used cadaverous ligaments routinely, so why not cadaverous limbs? It might be worth a shot, but probably not in the middle of a dungeon, alone, and with time pressing. And it was just the pinky after all. Its absence looked weird to me, and I could almost feel my pinky as if it was still there, but it was not the end of the world. I have never been the prettiest boy out there, and this would not make a world of difference. More important were the two remaining broken fingers. The flesh around them was swollen and red, and they send a throbbing pain through my body, that was uncomfortable when sitting still, and almost unbearable when moving around vigorously.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. The problem was that if I was to heal them with the bones not appropriately aligned, I was afraid that it might permanently cripple me. So there was no helping it, I had to straighten the fingers out. Right hand clammy with apprehension, I grabbed my left index finger and¡­ yanked it forward. ¡°Shit, shit, shit,¡± was all I could mumble, while tears streamed down my face. But I had done it. The finger looked straight. And I knew that waiting would just sap my courage, so I grabbed the middle finger right after and repeated the process. The pain made me clench my teeth and pound my right fist on the tile-floor, but soon the agony receded enough for me to start the healing process. Fifteen minutes later, the swelling was reduced, and the pain had mostly disappeared apart from a dull background ache that served as a good reminder that not all was good. The bone had been set, but, based on the feeling I got from flexing my hand, it was not fully healed. Maybe my healing spell was not powerful enough for that. Or perhaps magic could only do so much. Based on what I had seen, I suspected it was the former. But it made a world of difference. At least I felt ok running around like that, even if not grabbing on to anything with my left hand. Another ten minutes later, I had fully exhausted my amber mana, but my chest felt a lot better as well. Again, not perfect, for that I would have needed more time, but at least I was ready to move around without too much pain. Before moving on, I decided to take a quick peek at any progress I had made with mana, skills, and spells, easily my favorite part of adventuring so far.
Name Daniel Hollander Rank Initiate 1
Title: Mental Bastion; First Initiate; Army of One; Against the Mighty II
Strength: 11.25 [+2] Intuitive Reasoning: 15 [+1] Mana Free Current Potential
Agility: 7 [+1] Complex Reasoning: 17 Silver 0 1 10
Speed: 6 [+1] Emotional Intelligence: 9 Black 11 [+6] 1 55
Dexterity: 6 [+1] Perception: 14 [+1] Amber 2 [+2] 0 21
Endurance: 10 [+2] Spatial Awareness: 21 Green 48 [+42] 0 0
Vitality: 9.6 [+1] Willpower: 21 Red 42 [+6] 0 0
Purple 7 [+7] 0 0
White 5 [+5] 0 0
Available characteristic points: 4
Spells
Mana Vision Level 11 [+2] Twilight Vision Level 1
Minor Healing Level 8 [+1] Shadow Skin Level 4 [+2]
Shadow Sense Level 1 Midnight Skin Level 1
Partial Incorporeality Level 2 [+2]
Available spell points: 0
Skills
Mental Ward Level 8 [+3] Mental Fortitude Level 10 [+3]
Multitasking Level 2 Internal Mana Manipulation Level 7 [+4]
Meditation Level 3 [+1] External Mana Manipulation Level 2 [+1]
Sword Fighting Level 10
Available skill points: 0
I certainly had made some progress. That goblin king had given me an assfull of green mana, it seemed, useless as that was to me. But at least it looked as if my victory had upgraded my title Against the Mighty to level two, which¡­ apparently added another five percent to my strength score. Oh yeah, baby¡­ I was gonna be the Hulk in no time flat. Without the regeneration and the green skin. And the rage. Well, ok, just a really strong dude. Not there yet, of course, with a fairly average 11.25. But that twenty-five percent was going to be huge. Of course, another twenty percent rather than a paltry five percent would have been even better, but I suspected that the ¡®system¡¯ considered my contribution and, in all fairness, I probably did about a quarter of the work. At least it had judged that I had defeated the creature all by myself, which was a bit of a stretch. So, all in all, I couldn¡¯t complain about an extra five percent. No big surprises with the skills and spells. Most things had leveled up nicely with the most notable progress for Internal Mana Manipulation, Mental Ward, and Mental Fortitude. No big surprise there, with my training and the constant barrage of mushroom spores in the cave and the old goblin beating up on my poor brain. As much as I would have loved to map out my further progression towards supremacy, it was time to go searching for the elves. Stepping out into the grand chamber, I was relieved to find that nothing had moved any of the goblins or the dead elf. Not that I had any further plans for those, but at least it indicated that in all likelihood, no one had shown up during the last half hour. Which was good news, because that probably implied that there were no additional reinforcements in the throne room, which was where I was heading next. Not sure how the stealth cloak worked, I simply wrapped it tightly around me while making my way carefully out of the grand chamber and up the staircase. Worst case scenario, it didn¡¯t do anything, but at least would keep me warmer. Ideally, of course, it would give me some camouflage or stealth capability because I was entirely tapped out of black mana, or any mana for that matter. For the time being, I had also decided against wearing the bloody shirt of the elf, because, well, it was still wet and I just couldn¡¯t make myself slip it over my head. As I got closer to the throne room, I heard cackling, followed by some unmelodic humming. It was creepy as hell. Careful to stay hidden behind the partially open doors, I looked into the room beyond. And what I saw made my blood freeze. Elrond was lying on the floor, in the middle of a hexagon or octagon or something similar. The details were hard to make out from a distance. He was lying ramrod straight, pointed toward the pedestal with the weird crystal on top, arms stretched over his head as if in a yoga prayer pose. And he looked¡­ deflated, somehow. As if there was only a husk left of the formerly beautiful person. On the other side of the pedestal, in a smaller rune-circle, or whatever that was, the old goblin was standing with its eyes closed, almost looking ecstatic. Its arms were stretched toward the sphere on top of the podium perfectly aligned with the arms of Elrond as if linking via the crystal. Which probably was exactly what was going on. And the goblin, in contrast to Elrond, seemed to have a jolly good time of it. Its back was arched, eyes rolled back, and its body was trembling from pleasure, while it was humming in a slightly squeaking voice. And while not much was left of Elrond, the old goblin almost palpably exuded vitality. For a moment I thought about rushing in there, and disrupting the ritual, hoping to save Elrond and perhaps have some type of magical backlash injure, if not outright kill the gob. But Elrond looked like a goner, so even if everything worked out the way I imagined, and that was a big if, because I had no fucking clue how all of this worked, Elrond probably was too close to death already anyway. Which left Legolas. I scanned the rest of the room, trying to find a trace of him, but he was not there. Maybe he was already dead. Or he had escaped somehow. Or¡­ well, all kinds of things could have happened. Which got me back to square one. The gob seemed quite distracted, so maybe I should go after him, even if it wasn¡¯t going to save Elrond. It was unlikely that I would find a better opportunity any time soon ¨C no guards, no king, the gob preoccupied... Mind made up, I moved my ass through the doors and stealthily shuffled along the wall, trying to circle behind the old goblin. After a few more steps, I was right behind gramps gob and, sword ready to strike, sneaked closer. Ten steps to go. Five more steps, almost there. I was nervous. For a moment, I felt a slight tickling in my brain, as if an ant was moving inside of my skull. Probably me getting the jitters. ¡®It is just an old, frail, gob. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy, Daniel,¡¯ I thought to myself. I took a deep breath and jumped forward. The sword whistled through the air as it descended on the neck of the goblin and¡­ slid right through its whole body without resistance. What the fuck? I stared at the goblin in front of me. It was completely unharmed. In fact, it had not even changed its position at all or shown any reaction whatsoever. Again, I felt the odd tingling sensation in my brain. An unscratchable itch. Suddenly, dark tentacles began to emerge from the floor, searching around, blindly for something to grab. One of them wrapped around one of the columns and pulled. Plaster began to flake off the column, and the few remaining statues that had been lining the occasional alcove, crumbled to the floor in pieces, raising clouds of dust. More and more of the tentacles emerged from all over the throne room, and it was only a matter of time before they would cover the area I was in. I stumbled back a few steps, desperately trying to avoid the questing shadow arms, staring in shock at the power displayed by the tentacle wrapped around the column. How was I supposed to fight something like that? By now, the stone pillar showed substantial cracks, and seconds later, the lower part came crashing down. The top part of the column was hanging from the ceiling rafters¡­ wait. What? That did not make any sense. Those rafters were supposed to be supported by the column, not vice versa. And, for that matter, a couple of the tentacles just crossed each other in front of me¡­ either they had substance, or they didn¡¯t. Can¡¯t have it both ways. And there hadn¡¯t really been any noise either. Abruptly, the tentacles disappeared, and I was left standing in the same, original throne room, flabbergasted, and hands raised protectively. Which probably looked quite foolish now that the tentacles had vanished. Then I heard cackling from a few steps behind. I whirled around and saw the old goblin stand next to one of the columns, with a smirk on its face. ¡°You are dead, fucker,¡± I growled and jumped forward, sword ready to impale the goblin. Right before I reached the creature, I felt the tickle again, and then the goblin moved to the left. But not far enough. A quick side-step and the sword tip went right for the chest of the goblin¡­ only to meet no resistance whatsoever. ¡°Shit,¡± I cursed. By now, it was obvious that the tickle or tingle in my brain was some type of spell or skill by the goblin that caused hallucinations. Or maybe illusions. But how do you fight that? Obviously, my mental barriers weren¡¯t quite up to snuff to stop that type of attack. More training was needed, I guessed. So¡­ close my eyes? Worth a shot. I stopped moving and just listened for any noise, eyes closed. There, a few steps to my right, a slight shuffling sound. Immediately, I moved forward, slashing with my sword in random patterns around my body. Awkward as fuck, but at least I wasn¡¯t fooled visually any longer. I only had to hope that the goblin could not suddenly come up with illusions of sounds or textures. After stumbling around for a minute or so, swinging my sword around like a fool, I heard the goblin grumbling in an annoyed tone, and suddenly the same bone-crushing, oppressive force that had previously knocked me out was back. This time, though, I felt that there was less pressure. It felt¡­ manageable. Perhaps the goblin was weaker. Or maybe I had gotten used to resisting that type of mental attack. My stats and skills had gone up significantly, after all. I fought back with all I had, wishing fervently to have some reserves of silver mana available. Alas, I only had recovered a tiny amount by then, and, even if I used it all, I was sure that it wasn¡¯t going to make a huge difference. So it was down to grit. I visualized myself as holding a castle, a bastion against the darkness pushing in from all sides, challenging my defenses. A vastly superior foe held at bay by the determination of the defender. Pure grit, repelling attack after attack, driving the aggressor into a futile rage. After a minute of resisting against the pressure, I opened my eyes and glared at the goblin, standing just a few steps away from me. And it gave me immense pleasure to see that I had wiped the smirk off the goblins face. Its brows were narrowed in concentration, and it was groaning slightly as if under immense strain. Not that I was doing any better. The few clothes I still had were soaked in sweat, and I could feel a pounding headache forming behind my eyes. A slow dribble of blood ran down from my nose over my lips, forming small droplets of blood at my scraggly excuse for a beard. And then my arms and legs started cramping up. But through all this, I held fast. After another minute, the goblin seemed to realize that I was a tough nut to crack, and it redoubled its effort. And slowly, but surely, I felt that my mental defenses crumbling. But, apparently not fast enough for the old goblin. With an annoyed huff, it stretched out its right arm toward the crystal in the center of the room, and suddenly, the pressure on me increased exponentially, crushing my mental defenses like cheap tin foil. Darkness descended on me. Chapter 33 – Transformation I came to myself, lying on the floor, a definite feeling of d¨¦j¨¤ vu. Slightly shifting my head around, I realized that I was still in the throne room, but in a different location. And, from the looks of it, I was where poor Elrond used to be. I could make out some silvery lines inserted into the floor around my body, forming a hexagram. At the tip of each of its points was a complicated-looking rune that gave the whole thing a bit more of a professional look than just an amateurish, run of the mill witch-craft circle to scare the average Joe. Before I could figure out what the hell was going on, I heard the goblin chant in a somewhat high-pitched voice, and the lines of the runes started glowing brightly. And suddenly I felt cold. Not cold like outside in the winter, no, this cold was more profound. Much deeper. It was the coldness of desolation, the iciness of an absence of life. And the feeling was originating from my chest. It was as if my life energy was somehow sucked out of my body. Slowly at first, a small trickle. Hardly noticeable. But quickly, it started becoming faster, a torrent of warmth and vigor, leaving my body. In sudden panic, I tried to move but couldn¡¯t even lift my limbs. Nothing, not even one of my nine remaining fingers. The only thing I could move was my head. And it reminded me of the last four years, being stuck in a wheelchair. For a moment, I was unable to see as my thoughts were wiped away by a haze of panic and red, hot rage¡­ I was never going back to that kind of life! I would never again allow myself to be that helpless, that needy, that¡­ dependent ¨C a burden for everyone around me! And that rage gave me the strength to fight back. I was not going to be a pushover, not a wimp to be dominated and discarded like an empty husk. If that goblin wanted to suck me dry, I was going to try and spite it. Even if it cost my life. Or better yet¡­ I¡¯d try and turn the table on it. I activated mana vision with the little bit of silver mana I had recovered by then, trying to find some clues to what was going on and what, if anything, I could do. What I saw was both terrifying and astounding - a veritable vortex of energy swirled chaotically around my body, most of it green or red, but also tiny amounts of black, amber, and silver interspersed in the raging maelstrom. Wisps of energy branched out of the vortex and were drawn along my arms toward the multifaceted crystal on the pedestal. So far, it was mostly the substantial amount of free mana that was drawn out of my body, but I could see that the strands of solidified mana that constituted part of my rotating core were also pulled into the direction of the vortex. The force was not enough yet to tear them apart, but it was going to happen sometime soon if I did not take countermeasures. Scared what losing all that mana would do to me, I tried fighting the pull of the vortex, but it was like trying to prevent water from flowing down a creek with just your hands. Sure, I could redirect some of the mana, and could even slightly slow the flow of it, but there was no way that I could stop the whole shebang. It was just too powerful and the mana too diffuse to really hold on to. The old adage is that attack is the best defense. Not that I necessarily agree to that proverb, at least not in all situations ¨C after all, a strong defensive position can provide significant tactical advantages. But if defense is not an option, attack is, by default, the only option left. Apart from running away, but, obviously, I couldn¡¯t do that either. So I had to try and go after the source of the pulling force, which was either the crystal itself or the goblin. Ideally, I would just whack either one with a sword or ax, but, again, that was not part of my current set of options. Perhaps I could overload either one instead. Just like an EMP can fry electronics, maybe I could shortcircuit something with mana. Worth a shot. Instead of trying to stem the outflow of mana, I actively started pushing. Immediately, the trickle of mana floating toward the crystal changed to a roaring torrent of magical energy. I followed the energy along, mentally, using the connection to my mana to stretch my awareness, curious to see where it went and what happened with it. When the energy reached the sphere, the different types of mana separated and began to spin in a complex cycle, drawing ever closer to the core of the gemstone. The mana condensed in the center into a bright knot of purple color, from which a ray shot out direction old goblin. Instead of leading to any sort of instability within the matrix structure of the crystal or the cycling mana within, the extra mana from my attempt to overload just made the cycles turn into spinning whirlwinds of unbridled power, that fed into the purple core with that much more pressure and speed. And the ray going out increased in width and¡­ substance, by order of magnitude. It was like a raging river feeding into the old goblin on the other side. And rather than triggering any pain or discomfort, it seemed as if it caused pure bliss instead. The goblin¡¯s body was vibrating in pent up energy, and it started to laugh out loud in unmitigated joy. Fuck. So much for trying to pop the gob by cramming magic into it... Since that did not work, stemming the drain was ineffectual, and I could not move¡­ then the only thing left was to fight back aggressively. If I could not prevent the goblin from taking my mana, then I just had to take it back. Focusing on the purple mana, I could still feel a resonance, some familiarity, a connection that clearly indicated that this was mine. Part of my arcane self that had been ripped from the very core of my being. I latched on to this feeling resonance, trying to merge my consciousness with the mana somehow. What was mana? Was it a force? Energy? A wave or particles? Something altogether different? I had no answers to any of those questions. But as I focused all my attention, all my willpower, fear, and desire on the mana, I was able to make out its intricate, mind-bogglingly complex structure. I tried to understand what I was seeing but felt hopelessly outclassed. But suddenly, it was as if I had taken a step back, and the structure crystalized as snaking tunnels of bright light that I could dive through, submerging my awareness into the brightly glowing world of magical energy. Subconsciously, I could feel how I, or a projection of mine, a mental avatar, was moving at lightning speed toward the old goblin, racing through a complex set of runes around the hexagram surrounding it, before entering its core. For a moment, I was stunned by the view. The old goblin¡¯s cycling mana looked nothing like mine. First of all, and not particularly surprising, it was all purple mana. But the structure of its mana cycle was as different from my simple figure-eight gentle flow of mana, as a work of art was from the drawing of a toddler. It wasn¡¯t as if the goblin¡¯s cycle was overly complex, but it had depth, it had cohesion, and it had structure. The exact difference was hard to put into words, but it made me realize how primitive my mana cycle looked in comparison. Pretty or not, sophisticated or primitive, it did not matter. I was going to take back what was mine, and while I was at it, take the goblin¡¯s mana as well. And only part of that was my desperate will for survival. I also wanted to teach the old geezer a lesson that it should not have fucked with me. I was not the strongest being out there, but I was tenacious, and I was resourceful, and anyone going after me would have to watch out. I slammed my will into the goblin¡¯s core and began to shred the cycling mana. I was on a mission to damage, rent the structure apart, and then pick up the pieces. And things went great for a little while, with the mana cycle of the goblin stuttering and strings of purple mana fraying from the tight structure. Within moments, the old goblin stopped laughing and began to growl in a guttural voice. And then a force slammed into my mental projection like a bulldozer. The goblin, and I was sure it was the old geezer, started pommeling my mind viciously. Instead of trying to defend myself or hit back, I focused on tearing the mana cycle apart, ready to take punishment to dole out my own. The mana cycle budged, and twisted, resisting my pull like a bucking stallion. But slowly, I managed to draw a few wisps out of the mana cycle and pull them in my direction. And the goblin began to panic. Rather than continue to beat up my mental avatar, it began to frantically push back the mana into its cycle. But as much as the old geezer had me beat in mana based attacks, it proved no match to me when it came to manipulating the raw essence of mana. I brushed away its feeble attempts at mitigating the damage and methodically ripped apart its remaining mana structure. By then, I had already noticed that the pull on my mana had decreased to almost nothing, which took away the worry that I simply would be too late with my counterattack. And it was time to reverse the flow, get back what was rightfully mine. And then some. I was still tethered to my own body through the thin stream of mana, which by now was moving at a much more sedate, even gentle pace. Rather than cut off the mana flow, which I felt would be much more successful now that I had forced the goblin to defend itself, I gently coaxed the mana already en route to reverse direction. The reason was simple. I was not entirely sure if I could regain mana from the goblin¡¯s body, and every single bit of mana that was still in transition would be valuable in case I could not. I had the feeling that I had lost, potentially permanently, a tremendous amount of mana to this ritual, and I had to really scrape for every single bit. Just the thought of losing the precious bit of silver mana and the life-saving amber mana made me raving mad. Frustrated and angry, I yanked at the mana cycle of the goblin, trying to somehow connect it to the thin stream of my mana that was hovering just outside of its body. And, against my expectation, I was actually able to nudge the mana. Not much, but enough to dent the mana cycle sufficiently to redirect the flow just a tiny bit. And this was different from tearing apart the goblin¡¯s cycle, for which brute force sufficed. No, this was so much more difficult. And the only reason I was able to do so, was because I felt a tiny bit of resonance, a smidgen of familiarity with the mana of the goblin. As if it was, or had been¡­ a part of me. A small, almost insubstantial part, but nonetheless something that my mind recognized and that was aligned with me, for lack of better words. Clearly, those were traces of mana that had previously been part of my own mana cycle.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. And now that was going to cost it dearly. Gleefully, I pulled the goblin¡¯s mana cycle ever closer, trying to solidify the connection and increase the mana flow from a paltry trickle to a more substantial flow. I had to fight the old goblin for every inch, but it almost felt as if it was flailing around in the dark. I could feel its desperate strikes and resistance, but more often than not, it was targeted at the wrong place. Which, at first, I found quite confusing. I mean, yeah, my willpower was pretty good and all that¡­ but this goblin had mad skills at fucking with other people¡¯s minds. And that skill should translate to some degree to its own mind, I would have thought. Unless¡­ the goblin was using a spell to create those illusions and the pressure and had no idea how things actually worked¡­ perhaps it did not have the equivalent of my Mana Vision spell¡­ The more I thought about it, the surer I was. And it gave me an opening. An opportunity that I was going to use, without mercy or regret. Not that it wasn¡¯t hard work anyway, but at least I only had to contend with the occasional mental attack, instead of a constant barrage. The goblin attempted to break out of its hexagon circle as well, but just as I was constrained, apparently, it was as well. Relieved to learn that I had some time, I focused on dragging more and more mana into the tether until I realized that the mana flowed out of the goblin¡¯s body, into the crystal¡­ but never reached me. Suddenly nervous, I allowed my consciousness to flow back toward the crystal. Mana was accumulating at a rapid pace in the center of the crystal, but it was all purple, and it did not go anywhere, just sitting there and rotating at an ever-increasing velocity and potency. Carefully, I analyzed the internal structure of the crystal, trying to understand where the mana was flowing and how I could possibly change it back into the colors I wanted. After all, if it went from any color to purple, the reverse should be possible as well. Hopefully. Not allowing myself to dwell on the thought that I was, just perhaps, going to be stuck with an overwhelming amount of useless purple mana, I tried to understand how this mana transfer and transformation worked. Based on what I had seen previously, it was quite apparent that the mana coming in was routed through the various sub-portions of the crystal that were dedicated to that type of mana - ten different facets, ten kinds of mana, excluding gold and silver mana. Then the mana flowed toward the core of the sphere, only to be caught by some runes inserted in a purple crystal shard and then¡­ my mind blanked for a moment as I tried to understand what was going on. It was as if the mana was there, but not there for a moment. Or perhaps at two separate places simultaneously, kind of like watching a three-dimensional movie without having the appropriate glasses that fooled the brain into thinking that the image had depth. A parallel dimension? A fourth physical dimension? Some weird magical shit messing with my brain? Or just a strange reflection or filtering of light through a purple prism? Whatever it was, it felt as if the mana disappeared, was there, yet not there, and then it came out transformed into purple mana. So if I had to hazard a guess, the crystal with the runes determined the type of mana that would come out of that transformation. The question was how I could change it to something I wanted. So how about¡­ I pulled black mana toward the crystal, trying to insert it into the crystal shard instead of pushing it through, and, suddenly, it changed color, from a deep purple to swirling darkness. I then pushed on the mana in the core, forcing it to leave the sphere toward my prone body. Jackpot! After a moment, the purple mana I drew from the still resisting goblin was turned to black, and the ray of dancing and twisting shadow energy arching toward my body quickly filled my black mana reserve to the rim and beyond. Despite the almost orgasmic feeling this inflow of energy created, I barely paid any attention because as I watched the core transform from purple to black, I had noticed a glint of silver and gold. I squinted closer, trying to find what I had glimpsed briefly. At first, the swirling dark shadows covered everything, making me believe that it had been a trick of light, a mirage of shadows and purple. But then I noticed it again. Gold. There was bloody divine mana in there! Shit, I wanted it. Badly. And then I noticed that I had continued to transform mana to black, overshooting things a bit. Quickly, I switched to silver mana, and amber mana, in turn, trying to keep things level from then on out. Such an amazing feeling - a mana high, coupled with the realization that I had dodged the reaper yet again. Once more, I had danced on a knife¡¯s edge and triumphed against the odds. Fucking addictive. But then the energy slowed to a trickle before stopping altogether. This was it? The goblin was still alive and feebly kicking, utterly different from the deflated Elrond earlier. Perhaps draining the lifeforce was different from draining mana¡­ in which case, I had no idea how to do that. But, frankly, draining life force also seemed, I don¡¯t know, weird, and disgusting. As if I was eating the goblin. Which felt a bit too close to cannibalism, so I was not terribly upset about it not working out. But I did want to have that gold mana in the crystal. I focused my mind once more on the sphere on the pedestal, delving deep into its core to find once more those traces of gold mana. At first, I did not see anything. In fact, the crystal was utterly depleted of mana and more like a lifeless piece of glass than the fascinating microcosm of mana from earlier. As I dug deeper, I noticed a glimpse, a memory of gold, in the very center of the core, not more than a tiny mote of golden light, dancing chaotically through the crystalline structure. And it looked as if¡­ yes, as the golden light moved around, other mana appeared. An infinitely small amount, but it basically was mana arising out of nothing. This was big. Greedily, I stretched my mind to the gold mana and pulled. At first, nothing happened. But as I increased the force, I could feel the gold mana slowly drift toward the tether connecting my mana cycle to the crystal. I was beginning to feel giddy in anticipation of obtaining golden mana. The mana of creation, it seemed. Hence aptly called the divine mana. And once I had access to the tiny mote, I would send it into the transformer crystal and create more of it! Maybe I could not use it, because I did not have a golden core, but that was a bridge I would cross later. Distracted as I was with my dreams of grandeur, I failed to notice the cracks until it was almost too late. As I was forcing the golden mote toward the energy-tether, hairline cracks appeared in the crystal to my left and right, spreading out like branches at the speed of lightning. I could feel the splintering gem cut into my mental avatar. Each hairline crack was cutting into my spirit until I could barely form a cohesive thought. With a last, desperate push, I managed to merge my battered and bruised mind with my body. Fearing the worst, I looked up at the crystal, only to see it briefly light up with a plethora of colors, before a massive explosion sent thousands of shards slicing through the throne room. Sharp, needle-like pieces of crystal pierced my eyes and cut my flesh into hundreds of ribbons. Briefly, I heard a wet, gurgling noise from the goblin, and a thumping of something hitting the floor, briefly thrashing around, and then there was silence, only disrupted by my own moans. And then, out of nowhere, I could hear a clear chime that reverberated through the mana inside of me as well as the air around me. A single note that seemed to stretch on forever but must have lasted only a second or two. It was a timeless sound. Ethereal and eternal. And then it was gone. Not that I cared about a fucking chime at that moment. I could feel how my blood gushing out on the cold, wet floor with each of my heartbeats. Feeling coldness and apathy settling over me with each passing second. And the pain was excruciating. But perhaps that is what saved me. Rather than give in to the apathy, I frantically pulled forth amber mana and flooded the worst of my injuries with the soothing energy, desperately trying to decrease the pain. And yet, despite the screaming pain, I needed to be efficient like never before. I knew that there was just too much broken and destroyed in my body, too many wounds, and almost inevitable death due to nervous shock and plummeting blood pressure. With all my willpower, I forced myself to calm down and focus on an image of pink, healthy skin, moist and supple to replace the bloody, flayed mess of skin that was hanging in loose ribbons off my arms, back, and head. But I could feel that in many places, the damage went deeper. So I also imagined the mana to build a new layer of fibrous connective tissue underneath the epidermis, with sweat glands, blood vessels, and nerves. Which was a lot more crucial for avoiding a nervous shock and plummeting blood pressure. It was a close call there for a while. Another close brush with death, barely dodging the reaper¡¯s sickle. But slowly, I could feel the worst wounds close, increasing my chance for survival drastically. But for all my effort, I had done barely enough to stabilize. With my amber mana spent, all my focus was on breathing. That was pretty much all I could do, and even that, I wasn¡¯t sure how long I could handle. I wasn¡¯t in a good spot. For a moment, I seriously wasn¡¯t sure whether I just wanted to die. To just let it all go, to stop struggling. I felt so tired. The only thing that kept me going was the knowledge that given time I could heal most, if not all, of the wounds over time. If I survived that long, that was. To speed up the mana recovery, I decided to get back into meditation. I focused on relaxing my muscles, blending out the screaming pain, the headache, the piercing pain from my eyes, and allowed my mind to sink deeper and deeper into a detached state. It was far from easy. But finally, I mentally detached from my body and took a sort of third-person perspective. With a slight shift in focus, I was able to see the mana coursing through my body, the silver mana, entwined with black and amber. What had happened to the golden mana? It seemed like there was nothing there, causing me to curse myself for the greed that had driven me to go after that tiny amount of divine mana¡­ but how should I have known that it would blow up the artifact? Just when I was about to further berate myself for my foolish choices, I noticed a faint golden shimmer around my mana cycle, barely perceptible but still there, like a golden halo. Maybe I¡­ no, first, I had to focus on recovery. The gold mana could wait until later. What I really needed was amber mana now. Was there any way that I could speed up the mana recovery? This was the perfect time to find out. I carefully observed the tiny amount of amber mana cycling through my body and saw it ever so slowly increase in potency. Where was the recharging mana coming from? Spreading out my awareness, I was gradually able to discern a trickle of diffuse amber mana drifting from my lungs to the cycling amber mana and slowly replenishing it. It stood to reason then that the mana somehow came through the air I was breathing. Some of the ambient mana I had made use of when using Mana Vision to navigate the caves, I assumed. And if just breathing replenished my mana, I could perhaps increase the rate at which that happened. Meditation was the first step for that. But why would meditation do anything? Was it the mental state I put myself in? Or perhaps it was the lack of movement¡­ after all, if I moved, I¡¯d burn the oxygen that I had just taken in, and maybe that prevented the mana from fully seeping into my body. So, staying still likely was a component of increased effectiveness. And deep and even breaths. To test that part of my, admittedly, ad-hoc theory, I focused on fully inflating my lungs and keeping the air there for a moment before exhaling as thoroughly as I could. And I soon noticed a slight uptick in the amount of mana entering my body. Which also allowed me to observe more clearly how and where exactly this happened. There were tiny spots, for lack of a better word, that looked almost sponge-like and apparently served to attract and bind minuscule amounts of mana from the air. Some of these spots were slightly amber, others were black or silver. Corresponding to the types of mana I had in my mana-cycle. Could I somehow enlarge the amber spots? I tried various approaches, and what ended up working was simply using some of the amber mana that was filtered out of the air in my lungs, and bind it to the sponge-like spots, rather than allow it to drift into the rest of my body. It did not increase the size of the spots by much, but after adding mana for a few minutes, I could sense a noticeable uptick in the mana regeneration speed. The only problem was that the moment I stopped focusing on keeping the extra mana in those spots, it started to dissolve slowly and drift into my body towards the cycling mana. But as long as I meditated, focused on even and deep breaths, and kept the mana attached to the sponges it sped up the mana replenishing by one order of magnitude. So that is what I did. Whenever I had recharged my amber mana, I healed another part of my body, until the mana was exhausted again. After a few hours, I felt that I had dealt with the worst damage to my skin and muscle tissue, a least enough to be minimally mobile and not in immediate danger of dying any longer. Time to turn my attention to my eyes. Unfortunately, I didn¡¯t have a clear idea of how the human eye is built. As such, I could not give my mana specific ¡®instructions¡¯ and had to rely on a more generic healing approach ¨C just flood the eyes with amber mana and hope for the best. I did visualize the end result of me having vision again, hoping that it would suffice to regenerate my eyes. And it worked, however inefficiently. It was a slow process, certainly much more time-consuming than dealing with a similar-sized amount of skin. But after a few minutes, I could feel vision slowly returning. First, I noticed colors and general shapes. Then slowly, things started to come more into focus, albeit still quite blurry. And just when I ran out of amber mana again, I finally felt that my eyes were fully back to normal. Chapter 34 - Sucka Thankfully there was still light in the throne room. But, in contrast to before, it did not come from the magnificent chandelier, but from light crystals scattered all over the floor. Some additional light came from torches that had been mostly protected from the blast by the columns scattered throughout the room. Looking at the destruction, I had no idea why I was even alive. I should have been ripped apart by the explosion, or, if not killed by the blast, the shards should have killed me on the spot. Based on the grooves cut into the stone floor in a burst-like pattern, the shards had had enough force to even mar stone, so certainly enough to carve a flesh-and-blood body into tiny strips. Interestingly, the circle around my body did not have such indentations in the stone, apart from plenty of scratches and crystal dust. So perhaps the hexagram had done more than just provide a conduit for sucking out my mana and had also offered some protection. Either way, I felt lucky to be alive. And given the way the goblin looked despite being in a hexagram as well, it must have been a really close call. That could have easily been me. So what now? I felt famished. All that healing had taken its toll. And looking at my arms and legs further drove home that point ¨C I was all bone and skin, not much left in terms of muscle or fat. It reminded me of those pictures of half-starved people somewhere in a drought area in Africa. So even if I had more amber mana to spent, I should take it easy, lest I consumed my own body. And I had not even thought about it during the healing process¡­ I made a mental note to be more circumspect of the side-effect of extensive healing. Maybe if I got out of this, I should open my own line of weight loss programs. The dungeon fat burner approach to weight loss. Great title. A surefire winner. Given the appearance of my body, I was almost scared to look at my stats sheet. But better to know than to die because of my ignorance¡­
Name Daniel Hollander Rank Initiate 1
Title: Mental Bastion; First Initiate; Army of One; Against the Mighty II
Strength: 6.25 [-4] Intuitive Reasoning: 15 Mana Free Current Potential
Agility: 7 Complex Reasoning: 17 Silver 60 10 10
Speed: 5 [-1] Emotional Intelligence: 9 Black 70 55 55
Dexterity: 6 Perception: 14 Amber 60 0 21
Endurance: 7 [-3] Spatial Awareness: 21 Purple 11 0 0
Vitality: 7.2 [-2] Willpower: 21 Gold 1 0 0
Available characteristic points: 4
Spells
Mana Vision Level 12 [+1] Twilight Vision Level 1
Minor Healing Level 8 Shadow Skin Level 4
Shadow Sense Level 1 Midnight Skin Level 1
Partial Incorporeality Level 2
Available spell points: 0
Skills
Mental Ward Level 8 Mental Fortitude Level 12 [+2]
Multitasking Level 3 [+1] Internal Mana Manipulation Level 8 [+1]
Meditation Level 4 [+1] External Mana Manipulation Level 2
Enhanced Mana Recovery Level 1 [+1] Sword Fighting Level 10
Available skill points: 0
Well, not as bad as I had feared, but not great either. The sizeable drop in strength, endurance, and vitality reinforced the need to be cautious with healing in the future. Too bad that killing the goblin had not given me another title upgrade for Against the Mighty. I had been kinda hoping for that, and it would have alleviated the drop in raw strength, at least. Maybe there were some non-linear requirements for further levels in the title¡­ At least, the change in available mana was a pleasant surprise. A huge upgrade for silver, black, and amber mana¡­ some useless purple, that I probably had absorbed initially, before figuring out how to change to different mana types, and¡­ one gold mana. Fuck yeah! I had done it! It was a paltry one mana, but it was fucking gold mana¡­ Not that I had any idea of what to do with it. But I could experiment later. There was also an annoyingly blinking box at the corner of my vision, indicating that there was some type of notification. Curious, I mentally switched to the message.
Congratulations. By defeating the boss, your group is the first to complete this level of the dungeon. To the victors go the spoils. Would you like to obtain your rewards at this point?
Well, what kind of question was that? Of course, I would¡­ Immediately another two windows opened up. The first one read:
Your group receives ten points for characteristics, spells, and skills to be divided according to contributions. In addition, each member of the group may obtain a core of the mana color of their choice or fifty mana of their choice. Which would you like?
I couldn¡¯t help it, I had to laugh a bit, even though it probably came out slightly deranged. That was a huge power boost! If I had been in a group of five people, the standard setup for dungeon-diving in the litrpg stories, it would have been a paltry two points on average ¨C not bad, but also nothing to write home about. But freaking ten points was a game-changer. And not just in one area, but all three categories on my stats sheet. But I had to make a choice¡­ mana or core? If I understood it right, a mana core came with ten mana. At least, it had been like that so far. So was a core worth more than forty extra mana? Hell yeah. At least for me. I figured that others might not be able to use multiple types of cores at once, due to the lack of silver mana¡­ but luckily, I did not suffer that problem.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°I want a gold core!¡± I said confidently. Nothing happened. ¡°Dungeon, I want a gold core!¡± I repeated. Still no reaction. Well, shit. Not that I was surprised. But it had been worth a shot. So if not golden mana¡­ what core would be good to pick? From what I remembered, white mana was some air stuff, blue was ice, red was fire, yellow lightning,¡­ turquoise, was that water? Something like that. And then¡­ hmm, something about metal and stone, and¡­ oh, green was nature and strength. And purple of course. All of them were tempting in their own way. I could see useful applications for almost all of them. Initially, I had disregarded purple as the weakest of the colors, but fighting that goblin had changed my mind. If anything, I now thought it was one of the stronger ones, at least when fighting something that relied primarily on visual senses. But I felt really drawn toward red mana. There just was something about the ability to create a fireball. Playing roleplaying games I had always started a mage, just to be able to cast that fireball on the third spell level. Most of my groups had never reached that level, with players leaving, dungeon masters changing, or characters dying. But that had never deterred me. But it wasn¡¯t just some immature, hormone-driven wish to throw around fireballs and blow stuff apart¡­ sure there was some of that. But it also offered the strategic addition of ranged attacks, which I sorely lacked so far. So did lightning, of course. But whatever¡­ ¡°I want a red core!¡± I stated into the empty room, feeling a tiny bit foolish about seemingly talking to the air. Immediately, I forgot about any embarrassment, because I could feel something changing inside of me. Nothing monumental, but a slight bit of pressure that quickly eased, and within seconds was unnoticeable. And, lo and behold, when I looked inside of my body with Mana Vision, I could now see a red core sitting smack-dab at the center of my mana cycle, with a bit of red mana milling around, aimlessly. I am sure I was grinning like a fool, but the presence of red mana inside of me just made me unreasonably happy. About ready to start the process of incorporating the red core into my mana cycle, I remembered that there was another message waiting. And while I could not wait to get access to red mana, looking at the notification would only take a few seconds and then I could get to play around with my new mana. Well, that said¡­ I was actually starving, literally. So maybe that had priority over the time-consuming process of dealing with my newest mana-toy. And there was the issue of Legolas, who might still be alive somewhere. Fuck. Somewhat annoyed, I looked at the last message, which quickly dealt with my slightly sour mood.
For having singlehandedly completed the first level of the dungeon, you may choose which of the following titles to be bestowed upon you: ¡¤ Overachiever: Each of your characteristic points is increased by one unless it is at a value of zero. ¡¤ Transformer: You may transform mana into any core-mana type at a rate of five to one instead of the usual rate. ¡¤ Lone Wolf: Whenever you fight alone, your speed and endurance are increased by twenty percent.
Holy shit. Overachiever gave the most immediate benefits but lacked a bit in future potential. But an extra twelve characteristic points was nothing to sneeze at. Transformer¡­ sounded a bit lame at first, but it would allow me to deal with the bottleneck of mana a lot more effectively. Speaking off¡­ the text confirmed that it WAS possible to transform mana. I just had not poured enough into it when I had tested to make it actually happen. Of course, I had no idea what the usual rate was, but given how good the other two titles were, I had to assume that the transformer-rate was pretty darn good. Lone Wolf was sweet as hell. I already envisioned myself zipping through crowds of monsters that almost seemed in slow-motion, killing them left and right¡­ That was a tough one. In the end, I decided to go with Transformer. While Lone Wolf was sweet, I was a bit turned off by the requirement of fighting alone. While I was not necessarily the most social person, I did not intend to be a loner for the rest of my life, or even for more days than I had to. And Overachiever was just too limited in the long run. And, frankly, I felt that magic was the way to go. I couldn¡¯t even imagine how many more cool spells were out there, ready for me to explore and experiment with. If my hunch was right, mana was also the key to leveling up and that, surely, was going to give characteristic points too. So it was decided. ¡°Transformer!¡± When there was no further reaction or feeling of change apart from the new title appearing on my stats sheet, I shrugged my shoulders and began searching the room for loot and edibles. After my experience with the crown, I gave the staff with the skull on top that the dead goblin still was clutching to its shredded chest a wide berth. There was no telling what kind of evil magic was contained in that thing. It did have a couple of twisted-metal rings though that glowed with a faint aura of mana and one little bag made out of supple leather, which looked rather ordinary but was covered in dimly glowing runes when I switched on my Mana Vision. A quick search of the remainder of the throne room, yielded precious little of interest, apart from the deflated and shredded remains of Elrond, which was still equipped with the camouflaging cloak, even more torn than my own, a set of beautiful weapons, similar to the ones I already was carrying, and a few gold coins with dimly shimmering cores. Not sure what they were good for, I decided to pocket them anyway. At the very least, they looked kind of fancy. No elven bread, though, or any other rations for that matter. Just another one of those waterskins, but this one punctured by a myriad of shards. I was getting a bit nervous about more goblins showing up and not having found any way out yet, so when there was nothing of apparent interest left to explore, I turned to the smaller set of double doors behind the throne. One of them was slightly ajar, and I could see flickering light behind. Weary of further surprises, I cast Shadow Skin and stealthily made my way toward the doors. As stealthily as I could be, dragging my feet over the floor. Truth be told, I was utterly exhausted. I needed some rest, food, and water. A recurring theme. So I really hoped that I got a lucky break and there was something here that could help me. Like a fucking exit to this dungeon. And an all-you-can-eat buffet. Of course, I didn¡¯t find either one. Instead, the double doors opened into a smallish room, which looked like an antechamber to another room, with a couple of decrepit benches left and right, some closet-like thing which had mostly fallen apart and another set of doors leading into a much bigger room. And there, right after the second set of doors, was a tall humanoid, with long blonde hair and beautiful features, all tied up lying on the ground ¨C Legolas. Finally. I limped to his prone body fast as I could and cut him loose. ¡°There you go, mate,¡± I said when I finished cutting through the last ropes. Not that I thought he would respond, as he seemed to be out cold. Up close, I realized how pale he looked, and his body was kind of cold as well. But he was still breathing, so I figured that he was probably going to be alright. I didn¡¯t have any amber mana, so there was nothing I could do anyway, even if I wanted. And there was no water either. So I waited. A few minutes later, Legolas stirred and slowly opened his eyes. At first, his vision seemed unfocused, staring at the wall, but then I saw something like awareness return to his beautiful, deep-blue eyes. He blinked a couple of times and then focused his piercing gaze on me. Immediately, I could feel a jolt go through my body, part fear, part¡­ attraction? Well, perhaps not attraction, I mean, he was a dude and I wasn¡¯t really into the gay thing. Not that I had ever tried. Either way, I guess one could say that I felt mesmerized. ¡°Ein Mensch! Wunderbar! Komm her, hilf mir auf,¡± Legolas said. My mind blanked for a moment. Was that¡­ like, fucking German? That just didn¡¯t feel right. I mean, Scandinavian, ok, maybe, or, I don¡¯t know, like French maybe. But German? German elves? What the fuck? And¡­ ¡°What¡¯s up with your teeth, dude? Those look like vicious¡­,¡± I blurted out. For the first time, I noticed that Legolas had huge canines, elongated, wickedly sharp and¡­ hollow, it seemed. Just like in the crown of the goblin king. Legolas looked quizzically at me as if he hadn¡¯t understood a single word. ¡°Do you speak English?¡± I asked, surreptitiously staring at the elf¡¯s teeth. ¡°Sorry, I don¡¯t really speak German¡­ I mean, ¡­ Heil Hitler! Scheisse!, uhm, Weltuntergang, and Schadenfreude! That¡¯s about it¡­¡± I trailed off when I noticed that Legolas was starting to look a bit irritated. Or perhaps it was just a toothy smile. Damn, those teeth made me nervous. Legolas started to get up but clearly was struggling. His legs seemed wobbly and barely able to hold his weight. After he had stabilized a bit, he looked again at me and snarled: ¡°Steh nicht bl?d rum, sondern hilf mir. Ich brauche Nahrung!¡± ¡°Wow, hold your horses there¡­ I am not sure what you just said, but I am here to help you¡­ In fact, I just saved your sorry ass, so I¡¯d appreciate it if you didn¡¯t take that tone with me.¡± I was a bit taken aback by the attitude of the elf. Confusion I could understand, but barking orders at your savior was¡­ a bit strange, I thought. ¡°So clearly we have some communication problems. Let¡¯s start again,¡± I said. ¡°I am Daniel,¡± I continued, pointing at myself. Waving my hand at him, I then asked: ¡°And you?¡± The elf looked at me somewhat annoyed and ready to bark something, but then seemed to reconsider. ¡°Du¡¯Andrazzil.¡± ¡°Du what?¡± I asked, a bit surprised. For whatever reason, I had thought that it would be close to Legolas. Probably because I had been using that name in my mind for the last few hours and so I had come to associate it with the elf in front of me. ¡°Du¡¯Andrazzil, Erstgeborener von Baron Andraz, von Gi¡¯Andorath,¡± the elf repeated, with a bit of exasperation in his expression. ¡°Uhm, ok, Du¡¯Andrazzil. Nice to meet you. So, it seems clear to me that we both need some rest and food and¡­ well, a way out of here, I guess. Any thoughts?¡± ¡°-¡° ¡°Well, right, that was kind of a useless question¡­ you don¡¯t understand any of what I am saying anyway, I guess.¡± Somehow it had never occurred to me that I would meet Legolas, well, Du¡¯Andrazzil, and not be able to talk to him. While I was blabbing, Du¡¯Andrazzil cocked his head slightly, and I could see his ears swivel, like a rabbit. Which was endearing in some way, but also reinforced how alien he was. At first, I thought that it was just some random behavior, but the tense body and absolute concentration in the elf made me think that he had noticed something. ¡°What is it?¡± I whispered. Du¡¯Andrazzil held up his hand, clearly indicating I should keep my trap shut. And then I heard it too. Shouting from down the hallway. Still far away, but coming closer. Goblins. Shit, they had probably found the dead goblin king and the slaughtered guards. It had been only a matter of time, and frankly, I had lucked out that it took them this long, but now the shit was going to hit the fan. Du¡¯Andrazzil and I shared a look and then, almost simultaneously shuffled our way to the double door leading into the big chamber. It was a solidly built door, made out of the same dark hardwood as the other doors, and, most importantly, it had a bigass crossbeam. It was freaking heavy, and I was weak. And exhausted. The elf was not doing much better than me. But together, we managed to secure the door before sinking down to the ground to get a breather. Nothing short of a battering ram was going to get through this door any time soon. Unless the goblins had some magic tricks up their dirty sleeves¡­ A short while later, I could hear grunting right behind the door, and soon after, the goblins started banging their fists and weapons against the door. ¡°Hey, Du¡¯Andrazzil, how long do yo ¨C fuck! What the fucking fuck? Stop doing that, you''re scaring the shit out of me.¡± Turning toward Du¡¯Andrazzil, I suddenly had found myself face to face with Du¡¯Andrazzil, with our noses almost touching. From the corner of my eyes, I noticed that his long canines were partially bared. It took me a few seconds to calm down my rapidly beating heart. ¡°Ever heard of personal space?¡± I grumbled while scooting away. But he just followed, and he was¡­ sniffing. His eyes were partially glazed over and staring at¡­ my cheek? That started to be just seriously creepy. I mean, I had ok cheeks and whatnot, but currently, they were probably a bloody mess from all those cuts and scrapes. Plus I was not used to a guy staring at me like that. Or a girl for that matter. I moved another few inches away, but Du¡¯Andrazzil kept on following me. This was getting worrisome. Surreptitiously, I grabbed my dagger, but it was already too late. With frightening speed, the elf leaned over, and its long fingernails dug into my arm, pinning it to the side. I tried to turn to the side and get some distance away from Du¡¯Andrazzil¡¯s wicked-looking fangs, but his body was half draped over mine. In my weakened state, there was no way I could toss him off me. So I did the only thing I could think of. I closed my eyes and headbutted him right in the face. With a crunch, his beautiful aquiline nose got another kink and started spurting blood all over my face. Instead of pulling back or showing any overt reaction to the pain, he¡­ started licking my face. Disgusted, I slammed my forehead into his nose again and was rewarded with a squelching noise and a big splash of blood and snot, dripping off both of our faces. For good measure, I did it once more¡­ three times is the charm. But then I could feel sharp teeth pierce the skin on the side of my throat and my neck began to feel numb. And then I started feeling strangely relaxed, all the pain and discomfort fading away, and even the pounding at the door behind my back and the uncomfortable proximity of Du¡¯Andrazzil strangely distant, as if perceived through a layer of fluffy cotton balls. I sat there, enjoying the feeling of relaxation for a while, ignoring the tiny voice at the back of my head that was screaming for me to do something, to move, to fight. I didn¡¯t really see the point in any of that. After all, I was finally comfortable, even though it was getting a bit cold, but in a sort of distant, detached way. Not entirely uncomfortable. Even the head to Du¡¯Andrazzil snuggled against mine felt, if not entirely appropriate, then much less intrusive. I mean, a fucking elf cuddling with me. If only he was a she¡­ I wondered if female elves also had huge teeth li- ¡°Fuck,¡± I screamed as I suddenly felt as if waking from a dream. And I felt the weakness permeating all of my body, due to the blood loss. And the cold. I bucked, trying to throw off the elf, but he held on to me with an iron grip, its strength seemingly increased proportionally to the decrease in my own strength. I pulled forth black mana, trying to coat my skin for whatever good that might do, but that didn¡¯t faze the elf one single bit. Silver was probably just as useless, and I was fresh out of amber mana. Desperately I tried grabbing for the red mana, but since I had not yet incorporated it into my cycling mana, it was like trying to pull boots out of knee-deep mud ¨C it was there, I could feel it, and I could grasp it and pull¡­ but it was just not responsive. With a supreme amount of willpower, I finally got a hold of a small quantity and forced it toward my throat and neck, willing it to scorch the mouth of Du¡¯Andrazzil. Quickly, I could feel blistering heat, and the smell of burned flesh rose to my nostrils. I still couldn¡¯t feel anything around my throat, but probably some of that stink came from my own flesh. But so be it¡­ I¡¯d rather burn both of us than meekly let myself be slaughtered. Du¡¯Andrazzil groaned a bit but did not let go of me. If anything, he grabbed me even stronger. And I could feed the last vestiges of my strength ebbing away. ¡°Why? I just wanted to help you¡­,¡± I murmured with a weak voice, still unable to understand what had suddenly happened. But Du¡¯Andrazzil did not react in any way, and soon, I could feel my vision narrow to a long dark tunnel, which was getting narrower every passing second until, finally, the light at the end of the tunnel blinked out. ------------------------------------------------ Du¡¯Andrazzil sucked the last drops of blood from the pale and still corpse in front of him, before leaning back against the door. He felt oddly conflicted. On the one hand, he had finally stilled that overwhelming hunger that had driven him nearly insane, with sweet human blood to boot. On the other hand, the human had done him a great service¡­ no matter whether that was a premediated rescue or a happy accident. Without the puny human, he would have surely perished under that goblin mentalist, just like, he had to assume, Du¡¯Gorath and earlier Dra¡¯Baladine. With a frown, Du¡¯Andrazzil considered the ill-fated mission. As a third born, the loss of Dra¡¯Baladine would have fewer repercussions than the death of Du¡¯Gorath, even more so, because Du¡¯Gorath was the personal favorite of the Panriarch. But it could not be helped. At least he himself had survived and hopefully could salvage something out of this mess. If nothing else, then some information at least. Du¡¯Andrazzil looked speculatively at the dead human next to him. Perhaps he should search the body to see if there was anything valuable on it. Not that he had high hopes, given the poor condition of its clothes and the malnourished body. Going through his pockets, he was shocked to find two magical rings, and, even more astounding, an extra-dimensional bag. The elf¡¯s hands started shaking slightly when he pried the bag out of the grimy and torn pocket. If he gave this to the Panriarch, everything else would be forgiven and forgotten. Even the loss of two priceless Drathi Cloaks would be considered an acceptable cost for that kind of artifact. How had the skinny, emaciated-looking human gotten its hands on that bag? Was he part of the artificers¡¯ faction from Randmere? There had been rumors that they had opted to participate in this dungeon conquest as well, despite their usual internal squabbles and misgivings about the financial viability¡­ But if so, where was the rest of the human¡¯s group? Surely, he hadn¡¯t gotten past the goblin king and the mentalist by himself¡­ those had been challenging, much more so than the typical first level of a dungeon. He had heard the chime, of course. Someone had finished the dungeon, but it was hard to imagine that this Daniel had done it by himself. Unless the rest of his party had perished in the attempt and he was the only survivor. Either way, there was nothing he could do. Regretfully, he hadn¡¯t been able to resist the blood hunger, so the human was gone. And what kind of blood it had been ¨C uncommonly rich in magical energy, enough to provide sustenance for a few days. With a last, almost regretful look at the human, Du¡¯Andrazzil turned around and walked toward the back of the room, where a narrow passage had opened up, leading into a brightly lit chamber. A few seconds later, there was just silence left, only interrupted by the feeble hammering of goblins on the other side of the solid door. ------------------------------------------------ A short while later, easily dismissed in the flickering light of the torches, a faint golden shimmer emanated from Daniel¡¯s body, as the tiny mote of golden mana briefly increased in size only to flicker out of existence. Chapter 35 – Encore (Part 1) Du¡¯Andrazzil stepped through the portal into an alpine landscape. It was a bare mountaintop with gorgeous views of the surrounding heavily forested area. But he didn¡¯t waste a glance at the beautiful nature, too preoccupied with his thoughts. The human had been remarkable. Or rather the blood had been. Clearly, this Daniel had not been a high leveled adventurer¡­ his flesh had been too soft, too easy to pierce. But it had contained a richness of magical energy close to that of an apprentice or even journeyman. Not that there weren¡¯t plenty of journeyman-like sources out there, but the juxtaposition of low levels and high mana was troubling. If he was right about Daniel being a Randmerian, then they perhaps had finally achieved success in one of their experiments. For many decades there had been rumors about Randmere trying to enable a person to control multiple mana types just like the rankers of old, but none of their experiments had come to fruition, as far as Du¡¯Andrazzil was aware. Until now. Perhaps. There were other explanations¡­ such as an artifact, hidden in the flesh somewhere. Or perhaps a spiritual being, a manifestation of mana somehow bound to Daniel. Or he had been too overwhelmed by the blood-hunger and had imagined the mana¡­ Going back and forth between the various explanations, trying to refute any one of them without much success, Du¡¯Andrazzil finally stopped walking. If he was to report to the Panrearch that he had no idea where Daniel was from and how the human had possessed such potent mana, he might as well end his own life right there. While the Panrearch might well forgive Du¡¯Andrazzil for the failed expedition, he would be, without doubt, incensed about his lack of information on this human. At the very least, he should have cut off a hand or some ears from the corpse to have some divination magic confirm his origin. Because if Darkalv was going to get into conflict with Randmere, the Panrearch surely would like to know more about their capabilities. If nothing else, it would strengthen the hand of the Gi¡¯Andorath in their struggle against the isolationists of Cor¡¯Maron¡­ There was no helping it. Sighing, Du¡¯Andrazzil turned around and began to trek back up the mountain. ---------------------------------------------- My head was killing me. This was possibly the worst headache I had ever had ¨C it was like someone was pounding on my skull with a sledgehammer, while glass shards slowly ripped through my brain tissue. And I was cold. Or perhaps it was more that there was a weird absence of warmth. But¡­ I was alive. Probably. I wasn¡¯t able to move more than a finger at a time, or twitch a muscle, but I could kind of see and hear. It was all a bit fuzzy, but at least something, and that implied that I was not dead yet. Which meant I might be able to go after that elf and cut off its fucking head. The thought of running Du¡¯Andrazzil through with my sword actually brought an illusion of warmth to me. I mean, what the fuck? I still couldn¡¯t believe it. If it had been a goblin, I wouldn¡¯t have been surprised¡­ but an elf? And it wasn¡¯t as if he had attacked me on sight¡­ no, we had talked and then worked together to block the door against the goblins. And then he suddenly spaced out and tried to eat me¡­ Speaking of, why the heck was I still alive? I tried raising my arm to touch the incisions at the side of my neck, but I still couldn¡¯t move it by more than an inch or two. I remembered that I had gotten weaker and weaker with the loss of blood, and whatever toxin the elf had injected into my bloodstream. And then there was the stereotypical dark tunnel, that was quickly narrowing until the light at the end had blinked out. I had drifted around in complete darkness for a moment, desperate for something to anchor myself to. And then I suddenly had noticed the golden mote of mana, floating around, just in front of me, yet entirely out of reach. I had grasped for it, I had pleaded, I had begged, but nothing had happened. Eventually, after what might have been hours or perhaps mere minutes, I had accepted my fate and had found inner peace. Looking at the golden mote of mana, I had felt a calmness settle over me, a state of tranquility. Slowly, immersed in this meditative state, I then had begun to make out more details of the intricate inner structure of the mana, of how it created. And then, suddenly, the golden mote had begun to bloom into a blindingly bright flower of pure golden energy that then had burst into mana of all ten different colors, and silver mana to bind it all. The explosion had buffeted me around. And then in a storm of blinding agony, the mana had rushed into my body, forcing its way through my empty, bloodless veins and arteries. The next thing I remembered was when I had come to myself. Stuck leaning against the door, I activated Mana Vision and began to meditate to investigate what had happened with my body, hoping to find a clue for why I was mostly paralyzed and, even more importantly, why I was still alive. What I found scared the heck out of me. My whole body was a maelstrom of power, coursing through every vein, artery, nerves, and bone, millions, or perhaps billions of tiny, microscopic strands covering all of my body in an intricate runic pattern that I could not hope to understand, much less emulate. And it wasn¡¯t just black, amber, or silver mana¡­ no, it was all types of mana, with the sole exception of gold mana. And while I could not hope to understand everything, I did notice a few details that made my head spin with the potential¡­ I saw yellow mana covering nerve ends, perhaps serving as the source for the firing of electric impulses. Red mana was, in low quantities, spread throughout my muscles, and, much more concentrated in the brain, perhaps providing a source of energy, which, due to the lack of blood was not naturally provided for any longer. And the list went on and on. Mana was all over, emulating natural physical functions. Insufficient to allow me to move around, but enough to keep me alive for the time being. But I could see some of the mana bleed out, and the process of mana-loss seemed to accelerate. So it seemed as if yet again I was on a clock. I needed blood, lots of it. At least, I might be able to imitate what I had seen in my body with my red mana, so as long as that mana was not depleting like the rest, I possibly could keep moving and thinking, even without any blood. A weird thought. Like a freaking zombie. Well, zombies don¡¯t think¡­ so perhaps a Lich. I had recovered a fair amount of amber mana, somehow, and it wasn¡¯t really used much in keeping me alive, surprising as that was. Perhaps because nothing was really wrong with my body, apart from the absence of blood. But just maybe I could ¡®convince¡¯ the amber mana otherwise. I visualized blood, replete with water, salt, proteins, red blood cells, white blood cells, and platelets and then forced with all my willpower the amber mana into this image. At first, nothing happened, but then I could see blood slowly forming. But it was not without cost. The strain of fighting the bucking and resisting amber mana caused the intensity of my headache to spike yet again.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. I tried to curse or even just groan, but there was no air in my lungs. I attempted to bite my lips, but the muscles in my cheeks did not have enough energy to do even that. So I simply endured and pushed for more. It was a race against time. But slowly, I made progress. A trickle of blood moved through my veins, reducing the strain on my mana to provide all essential bodily functions. And then I took my first, sweet breath. The air was rasping through my parched mouth and throat, but it felt heavenly all the same. Just when the last traces of the foreign mana in my body disappeared, either because it had been consumed or because it had faded into the surrounding, I succeeded in producing the last few ounces of blood that would ensure my survival. Utterly exhausted, and still suffering from the blinding headache, I leaned against the door, too tired to move. But I could not afford to just sit around and do nothing. At the very least, I could make sure that I incorporated all the mana. Because I swore to myself that I¡¯d never again be caught with my pants down. From now on, I wouldn¡¯t run off into trouble without mana as a backup. Not that my mana would have done too much against that damned elf¡­ But still, it was a matter of principle. I had to stop making hare-brained decisions. This was a different reality, and while it bore a resemblance to fantasy games I had played in the past, it was not a game. And there were differences. I could kick myself for blindly trusting that elf, just because elves were always the good guys in fantasy books didn¡¯t mean that the same held true for this world. So far, there seemed to be really no good guys, apart from, perhaps, some fellow humans. But after having been tossed down a ravine to die, I was not going to be too trusting even with other people. I had to force myself to stop getting all worked up about those bad experiences¡­ it was water under the bridge, and I just had to learn my lessons. Slowly I calmed my breathing and assumed a meditative state. By now, it was like night and day to just a few days earlier. Even when stressed, injured, in pain, beaten up¡­ I could start meditating nearly instantaneously. Almost. Slowly but steadily, I incorporated the loose mana floating around my body into the mana cycle. Just because of the sheer quantity, it took a while, but soon the rotating mana looked a lot more solid than before. Especially the relatively paltry amount of silver and amber mana had swollen to a size comparable, even if not quite equal, to the black mana. And for some reason, the cycling mana was rotating a bit faster too. Was that the result of including more mana? But I had not noticed the same effect when I had added black mana before, so it was either something about the balance of the different manas or¡­ I looked more closely and noticed that the mana had started taking slightly different pathways from before, roughly following some of the major arteries and veins. It was as if¡­ yes, this was about were the maelstrom of mana rushing through my body and blazed a trail. It was as if there were a sort of channel now, that facilitated the faster rotation of the mana. Perhaps I could speed it up even more¡­ I split my awareness to various parts of the cycle, a trick that I still struggled mightily with, and then began to push and prod and pull. At first, the mana reacted quite sluggishly, but soon, I could see a further uptick in rotation speed. Not much else happened, and I wondered if this even had any impact. Somewhat annoyed, I checked my stats sheet.
Name Daniel Hollander Rank Initiate 7
Title: Mental Bastion; First Initiate; Army of One; Against the Mighty II; Transformer
Strength: 6.25 Intuitive Reasoning: 15 Mana Free Current Potential
Agility: 7 Complex Reasoning: 17 Silver 0 70 70 [+60]
Speed: 5 Emotional Intelligence: 9 Black 0 125 125 [+70]
Dexterity: 6 Perception: 14 Amber 0 60 81 [+60]
Endurance: 7 Spatial Awareness: 21 Red 10 * *
Vitality: 6 [-1] Willpower: 21 Purple 11 0 0
Available characteristic points: 26 [+22]
Spells
Mana Vision Level 13 [+1] Twilight Vision Level 1
Minor Healing Level 9 [+1] Shadow Skin Level 4
Shadow Sense Level 1 Midnight Skin Level 1
Partial Incorporeality Level 2
Available spell points: 22 [+22]
Skills
Mental Ward Level 8 Mental Fortitude Level 12
Multitasking Level 4 [+1] Internal Mana Manipulation Level 8
Meditation Level 6 [+2] External Mana Manipulation Level 2
Enhanced Mana Recovery Level 2 [+1] Sword Fighting Level 10
Available skill points: 10 [+10]
Level 7! Finally! So, let¡¯s see. Obviously, no gold mana any longer, but silver mana was at 70, amber at 81 and black at a whopping 125. The lowest was 70, which nicely corresponded to a level of 7, indicating that, possibly, I¡¯d gain a level every ten mana in my lowest score¡­ unless it was way more intricate than that. The only question mark was about the red mana. I had a core in that as well, after all¡­ but perhaps that did not count against the level requirement if it was not cycling. Lots of speculation, but it kind of fitted the observable facts. Only then my eyes wandered down the list, and I saw the massive increase in characteristic points. Twelve fucking points beyond the ten given by the dungeon rewards! If only I wasn¡¯t in such a sad state¡­ I¡¯d love to bump my stats right away. But without food, I was worried that I might kill myself. Actually, I wondered what would happen if I put those points into vitality¡­ would I eat up my body to create vitality, so it would end up being a zero-sum-process? My suspicion was that mana did add something so it probably wasn¡¯t quite a one-for-one. But I¡¯d rather burn some fat reserves or blood sugar than my actual muscles¡­ so bumping up my stats had to wait. Plus, I was back to where I had started from, back to square one, and I already knew how quickly I should be able to raise my stats with proper food and rest. I was about to close the stats window when my eyes drifted lower and I noticed the spell points I had gained. Sweet! Just like when I had formed my first mana cycle, I had gained spell points as well as characteristic points. That was going to be huge, especially when the various spells would inevitably start to plateau. Now was any of that due to me accelerating the mana cycle? I had no idea. After all, I had no comparison point. This was the first I had leveled up, so it was all new territory. When I had gained my first level, I had received five points for each, so arguably, getting only two points per additional level felt like a letdown. But then again, quite possibly there was a bonus from achieving that first rank, or perhaps a reward for becoming an initiate¡­ whatever that was supposed to represent. Would I level up to a master at some point? How many levels would that take? Would that give me different bonuses? Too many questions¡­ I simply didn¡¯t know shit so far. Sighing, I turned back to my mana cycle and began to incorporate the red mana into my cycle. For a moment, I hesitated, because there was a good chance that it would drop me down in levels again, but in the end, I decided to go for it, because for now the stats points were useless to me anyway, and I¡¯d rather get my hands on some sweet red mana to burn my way out of a tight spot. Because I was tired of not having any offensive mana capabilities. And who doesn¡¯t want to burn stuff¡­? It took a bit, but in the end, the red mana drifted along with the rest of the mana, beautifully woven into the existing mana cycle. And luckily, it did not change my level. Which was excellent news for the future, if I ever managed to pick up further cores. I would have hated the idea of having some type of Jojo effect with my physical and mental characteristics, where picking up a new core would make my suddenly real weak and stupid, only to, later on, regain the points to be spent yet again. Either way, time to get my ass off the ground. Chapter 35 – Encore (Part 2) The banging on the door had subsided for a while but then had restarted with a vengeance. It sounded as if one of the goblins finally had figured out that banging against a solid hardwood door with their fists was not going to get them very far and had picked up an ax from somewhere. The door was shaking under the heavy blows, but so far was holding firm. Like an old man, I raised myself off the ground, wincing and huffing and puffing all the way. Once I was on my feet, I experienced some brief vertigo, but then was able to shuffle into the room to see if there was anything useful for my current situation. Like food and water. At least, the elf had left, because I was in no shape to fight that mofo. Oh, how I wished to bash his face in, break those teeth and shove them into his annoyingly mesmerizing eyes. Dreaming of vengeance, I made my way around the room. I quickly realized that this had been, at some point, the bedchamber of the ruler of this place. At least that is what it looked like. And the goblin king, or perhaps the old geezer had taken it as their private residence. All over the room were piles of dirty rags, discarded items, some coins, a poorly crafted dagger here, a sword there, and something that resembled a bed, only that it was made out of an odd mix of fur, some feathers, and dried mushrooms. And then I discovered the basket with half-spoiled food shoved against one side of the room. At the sight of the fruits, the semi-rancid meat, and the gourd of stale water, my mouth started watering, despite feeling revolted. Beggars can¡¯t be choosers. I practically inhaled the first few bites before I was able to control myself. If I ate too fast, I¡¯d simply throw up and waste it all. Slow and steady wins. Judging from the banging coming from the door, I had that much time. But while I was eating, I could, at least, start to think about my next steps. Obviously, Du¡¯Andrazzil had left the room, and, unless there was some secret tunnel, it had been through the ordinary-looking stone-arch at the other side of the room. Since he had not returned¡­ he either was dead, was sleeping, which seemed rather unlikely, or the tunnel beyond led further away, perhaps even outside. Either way, I had to investigate because I sure did not fancy the idea of going back through all of those goblins and then be stuck in the same part of the dungeon that I had already explored previously. That said, I did like the idea of killing more goblins. Especially now that I needed red mana and some of the goblins, roughly fifty percent, in my estimation, contained red mana. If only I was in better physical shape¡­ But, perhaps, if I extinguished all light, hid in the darkness and then sneak attacked the crap out of them? Again one of those harebrained ideas. I mean, it wasn¡¯t undoable, but a risk that I really didn¡¯t need to take. The prudent thing to do was t-. I noise from beyond the stone arch made my thoughts stop cold. Immediately I stuffed the fruit I had been chewing on in my pocket and shuffled over to one of the torches at the side of the room. I had no idea how they were still burning since I had been in the room for a while, but something was feeding them energy. And I needed the light to go. One after another, I quickly pulled out the torches from their sockets and suffocated the flames with one of the filthy rags. Soon the dimly lit room had turned into a chamber full of darkness and shadows, illuminated only by the few remaining torches on the other side of the room. Perfect conditions for the increased sensitivity granted by my underused Twilight Vision spell. When I activated the spell, the obscuring darkness receded rapidly and I could see almost as well as if it was a brightly lit space. I would have loved to extinguish some of the torches on the other side of the room as well, but I simply did not have enough time. Because whatever I had heard, it was coming closer. Quietly, I drew my sword and wrapped the tattered remains of the elven cloak tightly around me, before covering myself in Shadow Skin. Luckily, the hallway was flooded with light, so I could easily make out what or who was approaching. And I couldn¡¯t believe my eyes. Fucking Legolas was back! Weirdly, I felt the urge to talk to him, to reason with him, but I quickly shook off that feeling. I was done talking. Unless it was the type of talking done with a foot of steel, preferably buried deeply in Du¡¯Andrazzil¡¯s body. I only had one shot at this, though, because I didn¡¯t doubt for a second that Du¡¯Andrazzil was much stronger than me. In fact, he looked quite healthy, almost vibrant. A significant difference to his state a little while ago. Either that was some stupidly strong regeneration skill, or my blood was doing the deed. My intuition told me it was the latter. The main question was whether my current strength would suffice to even stab him. That shadow cat and the goblin king had had some motherfucking tough skin. And I wasn¡¯t any stronger now. In fact, the opposite was true. Could I improve my chances somehow? I looked around the room, thoughts going 100 miles per hour. The door. Goblins. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Not really. I¡¯d kill them in a heartbeat too. But they would provide good cannon-fodder. Soften up good ol¡¯ Legolas for me. Quickly, I moved next to the door and waited for Du¡¯Andrazzil to enter the room. He was careful, I had to give him that. Instead of rushing into the room, he was standing there, sword in hand, surveying the dark space in front of him, clearly apprehensive. I was sure that coming from the brightly lit corridor, he wouldn¡¯t be able to make out too much in the gloomy darkness, so I just stood still, waiting for the right time. After a few moments, the elf stepped into the room with a confident stride, quickly reaching the middle. Which was when I pushed the crossbeam to the side, effectively unbarring the door. Luckily I did not have to lift it, because I would not have been able to do that by myself. But pushing¡­ that was well within my capabilities. Immediately, the door flew open, and a throng of goblins piled into the room, howling in bloodlust. There were a lot more than I had suspected. Based on the banging and guttural shouts, I had thought that there might be a dozen, perhaps. But this was closer to twice that number. And luckily, they saw the elf right away, despite the darkness blanketing the whole space. Neither looking left or right, they rushed forward, eager to tear into the pale-skinned Du¡¯Andrazzil. The elf reacted quickly. Instead of being stunned by the sudden turn of events, he drew a dagger with his off-hand and readied himself for the onslaught. The first goblin was stabbed in the chest and fell to the ground with a gurgling noise. Du¡¯Andrazzil turned sideways, freeing his sword in the process and slid between the two following goblins, stabbing one of them with his dagger and slicing a second mouth into the throat of the other.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Before the next goblins could react to this chain of events, one of them was kicked viciously in the crotch, causing it to curl up and whimper, and the other had its skull caved in by the pommel of the elf¡¯s sword. And just like that, five of the two dozen goblins were down. By then, I felt sure glad that I had not attacked Legolas by myself. He was a monster. And then it got even scarier. A dark blue light began to coalesce around his hands, and suddenly hundreds of tiny ice shards shot out in a circle around him, cutting four unfortunate goblins to ribbons. The reach of the ice shards was low, only two yards perhaps, but it was a fearsome weapon in a melee like that. But then the tide turned. While Du¡¯Andrazzil was focusing on skewering the next goblin, a spear came out of the dark and hit him right in the chest. Its force was insufficient to pierce entirely through his clothes and the skin, but it was enough to unbalance him. The goblins sensed the momentary vulnerability and, literally, threw themselves at him. The first couple got stabbed, and a well-placed kick to the side of the face broke the neck of the next one. But the remaining eleven or so goblins quickly buried the elf underneath them. And they were falling into a frenzy, stabbing, biting, kicking, and hacking, really doing whatever they could to do some damage, or restrain the elf. I could see a blue shimmer evolve around Du¡¯Andrazzil¡¯s arms a couple of times, only to be snuffed out immediately when another hit by one of the goblins distracted him. I almost felt bad for the elf. Almost. And I figured it was time to step in and farm some mana while the goblins were still distracted with killing Du¡¯Andrazzil. Sword raised, I moved toward the scuffle. No one seemed to notice me, which was just perfect. The Shadow Skin spell was my best offense and defense at the same time. But then it turned out that I had been too hasty with expecting the imminent demise of Du¡¯Andrazzil. Just as I was about to start picking off the goblins one by one, the elf managed to free his left hand for a brief moment. And instead of trying to pry off the goblins or stab them, I could see him pull a little orange-tinted crystal skull out of a bag attached to his belt and crush it on the floor. Immediately, a semi-translucent dark cloud shot through with streaks of amber rose like a dome around the lying elf. And in front of my disbelieving eyes, the goblins started to writhe in pain, while the wounds of the elf rapidly began to close. A couple of moments later, Du¡¯Andrazzil managed to shake the goblins off his body, got up, and, with a nasty grin on his face, began killing them one after another. Which was when I kinda lost it. ¡°Die, motherfucker!¡±I screamed, jumped into the black cloud, and stabbed my sword right into the elf¡¯s chest, using all my body weight to force it through his skin. And while I had lost a lot of mass during the last days, I was still considerably heavier than the average goblin. Caught by surprise, the elf stumbled backward and fell on its back, allowing me to put my foot on him and push the blade even deeper. I could feel the dark cloud drain my energy at a prodigious rate, but I did not hesitate a single second. The elf had to die and it had to happen right then. But I could see that the sword was not going to be quite enough, even though it was lodged into the elf¡¯s chest. So I used my anger, my fear, and my desperation to grab all the red mana I had available, and I pushed it into the blade. After initial resistance, the red mana flowed smoothly, almost naturally into the cold metal, and within a couple of seconds, the sword began to glow in a cherry red hue. Legolas started to howl in pain as his flesh sizzled and smoked. But even that was not quite enough. So I dug deep and pulled forth all the amber, black, and silver mana I possessed, not holding back a single mana. Dark inky mana billowed out from my fingertips, joined by beautiful cords of amber energy snaking through the shadowy mist. The inherent instability of the combined mana caused the cloud to churn violently, threatening to tear itself apart any second. So I used the silver mana to contain, to guide, trying to provide structure without limiting potential. Slowly the mana formed into an amorphous cloud around me, roughly like the dome I could see and feel around Du¡¯Andrazzil. And then, I willed the construct to drain the lifeforce around me and transfer it to me. At first, nothing happened. There was resistance, a mental barrier. So I pushed harder, with all my willpower focused on that singular effort. And then, suddenly, I could feel it. In the beginning, it was merely a trickle of energy that entered my body, but soon it became a steady stream. Not much, in the grand scheme of things, but it was the difference between life and death, victory and defeat. And then, the cloud around Du¡¯Andrazzil began to fade, and the impact of my cloud became even more noticeable. It was a heady rush of power and potential available at my fingertips. And I wanted more of it. It was almost addictive. Scratch that. It was incredibly addictive. I felt like a little godling. Granted, I was still barely able to fend off the remaining goblins that were meekly swarming around me while keeping the elf contained, who, despite being impaled by a fucking fire-sword, was still struggling, still trying to push me off. The goblins cut me, scratched me, hit me, but I shrugged it all off. I had gone through much worse during the last days, unimaginable pain and suffering, so this was a child¡¯s play. Especially because I was healed continuously, albeit at a fairly slow pace. Then the first goblin died, and I could feel the stream of energy slow down. Soon the second and third goblin faded away, and after another twenty seconds or so, all of them felt like empty husks to my life-draining cloud. And then there was only the elf and me. ¡°Didn¡¯t expect to find me here, motherfucker, huh?¡± I grunted while stared at his face, trying to find a reason to spare Du¡¯Andrazzil. Not that I really wanted to. And what I found didn¡¯t change my mind. There were fear and shock, but also hunger. And that last one made me shudder, reminding me vividly of the horror of being sucked dry by the vampire elf. So I just stood there, keeping him contained and waited for the life to leave the once beautiful elf. It felt sad, yet righteous. And once it was done, I leaned forward, panting hard. But satisfied. This had been a good victory. Not well planned, but well-executed. Developing new spells on the fly wasn¡¯t something I should get used to, but it felt oh so good. And the life drain was a potent spell. Low powered and with a huge mana cost, yes, but if I could maintain that in a melee fight, especially against swarms of smaller creatures¡­ a game-changer. And it was the first time I had actually used the synergy ability of the silver mana. That alone gave me cause to celebrate. Finally, my choice of silver mana, in the beginning, seemed to pay off bigtime dividends. I mean, yeah, silver mana had allowed me to take on different cores, but that by itself was not enough to justify a restricted classification. Combining different mana into more potent spells was. And all because I had seen of Du¡¯Andrazzil¡¯s artifact in action. Otherwise, I would have never known what that kind of spell might look like. Speaking of¡­ I should probably search the bodies and get the hell out of there. I still needed to find the exit if there was one. But first¡­ vampires! With a bit of effort, I broke off one of the posts from the dilapidated bed, sharpened it with my dagger, and then jammed it into Du¡¯Andrazzil¡¯s heart. I had no idea if vampires in this world were the same as in fantasy novels, but I was not going to take the risk. Maybe I should cut off the head as well¡­ but, honestly, that felt a bit too grisly. The stake would have to do. And I did not have any place to bury the fucking head anyway. Once I was done with my precautionary efforts, I searched Du¡¯Andrazzil¡¯s corpse. Which was when I realized that he had actually pilfered the rings and the bag from me when he left me for dead. Just another reason to be mad at the dick. But he had paid for it with his life and got a stake through the heart. So I¡¯d call it even. Of course, it had also cost me that one golden mana¡­ Nothing I could do about it. In addition to my stuff, Du¡¯Andrazzil had an amulet that glowed with some magical energy and a cloak that was in much better condition than my own, so I took all of that. Beyond that, there wasn¡¯t really much of interest on his body or on any of the goblins that were lying scattered around the room. With some effort, I put the crossbeam back into place on the door and settled down to recover my mana. Three hours more or less wasn¡¯t going to make a difference, but having the mana very well might. Once I was done, I made my way over to the brightly lit corridor. Time to find out if there was an escape from this dungeon. The hallway went straight for a good twenty yards before ending in a circular room. On the opposite wall, there was an ominous-looking archway leading into stairs descending into the dark. Just looking at it gave me a creepy, dark vibe, so I decided to keep my distance from that. There was no way I wanted to go down anyway. Up was the direction I really needed. And this might very well lead to the second level of the dungeon, and I was not ready for that. Juicy as the rewards for completing the first level had been, it was not enough for me to be tempted by the deeper levels. I mean, it probably came with worse monsters and I had barely managed what the first level had to offer. No sir. Not now. Perhaps not ever. Which left the other central feature of the room. In the middle of the chamber was an oval-shaped arch, with a shimmering and flickering surface, like a giant TV screen with a really low refreshment rate, spanning the whole area inside the stone frame. The arch was densely covered in runes that were lit by an eerie white light. As I stepped closer, I began to better make out the image visible in the shimmering surface ¨C it looked like a mountaintop in an alpine area, just as one might find on one of the higher peaks in the Adirondacks. Of course, it could be anywhere. But at least I did not see something that indicated that this was going into space or underwater. Just in case this was not, as I suspected, a portal, I threw a coin into the screen. The surface shimmered briefly, and the runes on the arch flared a tiny bit, and then the coin was gone. And, even though it was hard to make out, I thought that I could see the coin roll around a tiny bit on the stone and then come to a stop. So unless this was a really elaborate visual illusion, hellbent on luring a person to step into the screen for some nefarious reason¡­ this was almost certainly a teleporter. Since there was no reasonable alternative option anyway, I shrugged my shoulders, drew my sword, just in case, and stepped through the arch. Chapter 36 – Algonquin Mountain ¡°Stop making so much noise, you oaf,¡± Betsy whispered harshly while scanning the surrounding bushes nervously. ¡°Relax, Betsy, there is no one around,¡± Jimmy responded with a bit of exasperation in his voice. ¡°Chad would not send us to scout the area if there was any real danger.¡± ¡°Oh? And why is that, Mr. Know-it-all?¡± ¡°Haven¡¯t you realized?¡± Jimmy responded with a bit of a smirk. ¡°They need to level us up for some reason. Or did you think that they did all this out of the goodness of their heart?¡± ¡°All this?¡± ¡°Yeah, I mean, like teaching us stuff every day. And giving us equipment, and those mana potions. That must cost a fortune!¡± ¡°Maybe they are just nice¡­,¡± Betsy said weakly. ¡°Yeah, right. Especially Dak¡¯lo, huh?¡± Jimmy chuckled. Betsy shook her head in disgust. ¡°Shit, don¡¯t remind me of that guy. What a creep! I still can¡¯t believe that Amy likes him.¡± ¡°Oh, she does?¡± Jimmy suddenly looked less than happy. Betsy studied his face for a moment before giggling a bit. ¡°Really? Amy? You do know that she is into dominant men, right?¡± ¡°Well, so what?¡± Jimmy shot back defensively. ¡°I can be quite dominant too.¡± Betsy burst out laughing. ¡°Jimmy, not sure how to break that to you, bu-¡° ¡°Shhhh,¡± Jimmy suddenly whispered, motioning urgently to Betsy to quiet down. ¡°There is something out there¡­ did you see those birds over there take off?¡± ¡°Shit, shit, shit,¡± Betsy muttered quietly, sweat forming on here suddenly pale face. ¡°What should we do?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t ask me¡­ you are aqua-woman with a knack for the outdoors¡­ I am a librarian for god sake,¡± Jimmy grumbled while shooting worried glances at the other side of the open field. If something was coming, they would, at least, see it early. Betsy visibly tried to calm herself down. ¡°Ok, maybe it is just a cat¡­ and if not, we¡¯ll deal with it once we know. Let¡¯s get some cover and watch from here. And then we can report to the others.¡± A few moments later, a brutish looking humanoid with grey skin stepped out of the cover of the trees, eyeing the open field and the small creek running through the middle. A few seconds later, it was joined by many more figures, until a veritable army of lightly armored creatures was visible. Soon there were hundreds of them, and more appeared by the minute. Some of the late-arrivals were carrying huge bags on their backs, in some cases bulky enough, and presumably heavy enough as well, that it required two or even three of the heavily muscled creatures to carry them. And soon it became apparent what was in those bags ¨C long sheets of canvas, that, together with the poles carried by others quickly transformed the formerly peaceful field into a poorly organized tent city. ¡°Who¡­ or what are those?¡± Betsy whispered. ¡°According to my skill, they are called gars¡­¡± Jimmy whispered back. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t really tell us much. They look dangerous, though.¡± Betsy stared for another moment at the mass of gars working at a feverish pace to construct some kind of nomad-like village. The tents were big enough to house at least a dozen, if not twenty gars at a time, and there were already fifty or more of them set up on the flat terrain. ¡°Let¡¯s go back and warn the others.¡± ------------------------------------------------ Stepping through the portal had been a weird experience, and not one I necessarily had enjoyed. The glimmering surface had felt a bit like a giant soap bubble, and the surface tension had required a modicum of effort to overcome. And once I had broken through, it was as if I had stepped into a cool mist before suddenly stepping into a completely different surrounding ¨Can early evening Summer day on a bare mountaintop. The slight breeze was like a refreshing kiss on my sun-deprived skin, briefly washing away my weariness. A green-gray salamander, with an oddly shimmering skin, was soaking up the warmth provided by the last rays of the sun, before scuttling off into some crevice when I got closer. I had fucking made it! All that time down in the dungeon, I had forced myself to keep on going, telling myself that it was just a matter of time until I would find an exit. But the constant fighting, slinking around in the shadows, afraid to finally encounter someone or something that would be too strong for me, and all the horrific injuries I had suffered had made me increasingly more doubtful. And now¡­ I couldn¡¯t really believe that I was out in the open, could feel the sun, the wind, smell the earth. My legs started to tremble, and I had to sit down. It was a bit overwhelming to feel the constant worry and stress ebb away. A slight smile played across my lips, and I just took a few deep breaths, enjoying the moment. And there was water! Just some puddles that had formed in the slight depressions of the granite surface¡­ but I wasn¡¯t picky. I needed water. And I had gone through worse than drink something with a little moss in it, or some dirt. Even though the water was lukewarm, it went a long way to soothe my parched throat. Once I had slaked my thirst, I took stock of my surroundings. I wasn¡¯t an expert on the topography of the Adirondacks, but it looked very much like I was on one of the high peaks in that national park. Flora and fauna matched that, as well as the season. And if it was the Adirondacks¡­ then chances were that I was on Algonquin Peak. I wasn¡¯t positive, but there were only a handful of mountains that had bare tops and were much higher than the surrounding mountains. And Algonquin Peak was close to Lake Placid and presumably within the dome of the teleported area that had surrounded the city. If that was correct¡­ all I needed to do was go downhill, find the trailhead and then follow the road to the next settlement, which likely was Lake Placid. And there might be some shelters on the way, or at least some parked cars on the trailhead that would give me a relatively safe place to sleep. I eyed the sun critically, trying to figure out if there was enough time. I certainly did not want to be caught out on the mountain in the dark. Not that seeing was going to be that problematic with my night vision capabilities. But who knew what kind of monsters might be prowling around during the night. Then again¡­ what were my alternatives? I could conceivably go back through the portal if that was even possible, but that came with its own risks. There was no guarantee that nothing would ascend from the second level of the dungeon, or, equally likely, something would break through the barred door to the bedroom. And if that happened, I might be in a worse position. Plus, I really didn¡¯t want to go back there. Or I could camp out on the mountain top. But that made me even more vulnerable. So the best thing was to just get my ass going. I had about two hours before the sun would fully set, I figured, which might just be enough. Before leaving, I just needed to do one more thing¡­ With a quick few steps, I approached the portal. Teleportation magic, or a wormhole¡­ or however this thing worked. It was about the coolest pieces of magic I had seen so far. And if I somehow could copy the effect¡­ I¡¯d be unstoppable. Well, perhaps not unstoppable, that crucially depended on how much time a spell like that would take to cast. But even if it took a while, it would, at the very least, be extremely convenient for travel. As I stepped closer, runes around the outer part of the arch framing the portal started to glow in a sinister red light. Electricity began to arc through the central plane, and the portal exuded an aura of danger and menace.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Shit. To make out any details, I needed to get much closer. From this distance, I could see that the types of mana going into the artifact were white, yellow, red, green, turquoise, purple, and black, but I wasn¡¯t close enough to understand any of the inner workings, or see more of how the mana interacted. I hesitantly took another step, leery of getting shocked now that I finally had escaped the clutches of the dungeon. Luckily, the ominous red pulsing light dimmed almost immediately as I approached. And then the runes turned to a bright white and the almost palpable aura of danger slowly subsided. Perhaps it was some type of defense mechanism so that not just anyone could enter the dungeon through this portal. Just to make sure, I picked up the coin I had tossed through the portal before and threw it back into the dungeon. No electrical discharge, no explosions, no firestorm¡­ just a coin clinking on stone and spinning in a lazy circle on the dark floor of the portal-chamber. Up close, I could see the different types of mana continuously move from one construct to another, never staying the same. It looked as if there was some repetition in there, some pattern, but it would take some serious studying to even establish that much with any certainty. And the constructs¡­ to say that this was way over my head was an understatement. I imagined that this was what quantum mechanics might be to the layperson. Maybe if I knew anything at all about runes, it would be easier. But this was like trying to understand complex mathematical equations without ever having seen math before. Not that it really mattered at this point, because I didn¡¯t have half of the mana that was apparently required to teleport stuff. But maybe in the future¡­. But before that, I needed to get to safety. And then¡­ get some rest and train. I was tired of being weak and slow. Some proper, high protein diet, and plenty of running, lifting, and swimming and I¡¯d be in great shape in no time flat. Determined, I turned around and began to half walk, half slide down the steep trail, occasionally slipping on the loose gravel or stumbling over the stones sticking out from the path. Luckily, there was only one path down the mountaintop, so I didn¡¯t have to worry about getting lost. Overall, the path looked well maintained, and I could even see signs that provided information about individual plants or animals that one presumably could observe on Algonquin Peak, confirming that my initial guess had been spot on. Which came as a big relief. I now had a clear target and was working with known parameters. And truth be told, I was almost enjoying myself. After a week in the dungeon, it was such a pleasure to be out in the open again. And just the fact that I was walking, albeit slowly and unsteadily, drove home how much things had changed for me from just a few days ago. Reminiscing about all the good things and bad things that had happened to me during the last few days, I almost didn¡¯t notice the bodies until I was right on top of them. Mostly it was just bones and pieces of torn clothes, strewn around the path haphazardly. Hikers, based on the equipment. Caught out on the mountain during the transition, I figured, and unlucky enough to run into a monster right away. I had to swallow to keep down the bile. Those poor suckers hadn¡¯t had a chance ¨C caught out in the open, with no weapons, no protection¡­ There was no indication of what had killed them. At least none that I could make out. Perhaps an experienced tracker might have been able to piece things together, but I was a city boy through and through. And this also drove home that I was not out of the woods yet, literally and figuratively. Nervously, I glanced around, slightly paranoid now that there might be monsters all around, just waiting for an opportune moment to attack me. Of course, if there had been¡­. they could have already ambushed me easily. I quickly bent down, rummaging through the few backpacks I could find within easy reach. There was food, mostly trail mixes, cereal bars, and some spoiled sandwiches, bottles with water, and extra clothes - a vest here, a light jacket there. I picked a sturdy backpack and quickly stuffed it with some of the more useful stuff, all the while having a strange prickly sensation between my shoulder blades as if someone, or something, was watching me. Perhaps it was just paranoia. But it made me nervous. Real nervous. I continued rushing down the mountain, nearly falling a few times, but miraculously managed to stay on my feet. My eyes constantly moved around, trying to catch any movement, any sign that I was being followed. But there was nothing. Gradually, I began to relax. Perhaps I had imagined things after all. I slowed down a bit and even took out a cereal bar and greedily started to munch on it. It was so fucking good! Only then I realized how terrible most of the food in the dungeon really had been. Most everything apart from those juicy, delectable fruits had been forgettable. The leaves and roots in the cave probably had been the low point. The high-calorie food immediately provided a noticeable energy boost to my body, visibly brightening my outlook on things. I even was beginning to enjoy the beautiful nature around me again, studiously ignoring the occasional human remains I was passing. Which was, of course, when the feeling of being watched returned. It is a weird thing, how one notices something like that. Science can¡¯t really explain it. Just a weird itch on the brain, something that tickles at the edge of the senses. And in this case, it was an intense feeling. Someone or something was staring at me. And not in a good way either. It raised the hair on my arms and legs and gave me goosebumps. I tried to not let on that I had noticed that I was being stalked and surreptitiously looked around. Alas, I did not see anything apart from trees and scrubs, and stones. Lots of those, providing perfect hiding spots. Nonchalantly, I loosened my sword in its scabbard and swept my eyes from left to right and back, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever or whoever was watching me. And eventually, I did, or at least the shadow of it. It was fairly small, about child-sized, or the size of a large dog. And it did not move very fast, but¡­ it was really hard to see. When I spotted it from the corner of my eye, it almost seemed to fade away into the shadows. Some camouflage ability? Something based on shadow mana, just like my own skills? I activated Mana Vision¡­ and wished for a moment that I had not. Rather than a solitary creature tracking me, I could now easily make out a swarm of them, all around me, hiding in the shadows cast by the many trees, stones, and bushes all around me. There were dozens of them, easily. They had not attacked yet, but they were getting closer. And as the sun was setting, the shadows cast by the trees, bushes, and large boulders were getting longer and darker. Which somehow seemed to solidify those creatures. A shiver ran down my spine, and I started to run. As well as I could, anyway. It probably was more like a fast stumbling, but I tried. I could just feel that these creatures were bad news. There had to be something I could do¡­. light a fire? Maybe. But unless the fire was a raging inferno, it was going to cast its own shadows so perhaps not do all the much against those being. And, even worse, it might also attract all kinds of other unwanted attention. I could also try to get into a lake somewhere¡­ but I was a bit dubious on whether that would do any good. And even if it kept the shades away, the water up here was too cold to be submerged in for a long time. I would die of hypothermia fairly quickly. Plus, I had no fucking clue where to find a lake to jump into. Maybe I was overreacting. Perhaps they weren¡¯t even dangerous. But my gut instinct told me that I didn¡¯t want to be touched by them. So the easiest, and, arguably, least heroic solution was to run away and hope to lose them. Perhaps they were merely territorial, and once I got far enough away, they would lose interest in me. Fear gave me renewed vigor, and I made good progress down the mountain. But the sun was setting faster than I made headway and eventually, it got dark, almost eerily so. Ink-like. And the moment the last sun-rays disappeared, and the world around me descended into a pitch-black maze of trees and bushes, I could feel a freezing-cold touch on my neck. A feeling comparable to leaving an ice-pack left for too long on naked skin. It was painful. And my skin and flesh turned numb. I spun around and saw a dark shade in front of me, a vaguely human-shaped blob of swirling shadows visible to my mana vision, with fingers of darkness stretched out, caressing my body. Almost sensually. And wherever it touched me, I could feel the ice-burn, sapping my warmth and energy. Shivering, I pulled my sword and hacked through the ghost-like being in one fluid motion. It did not even try to dodge my stroke. But instead of the shade disappearing or falling to the ground and dissolve, I felt only the slightest bit of resistance as my sword split the specter from the right shoulder area all the way down to the crotch. And the shadows making up the body of the creature flowed around my blade and merged back together once the sword had passed. As I stared in some consternation at the total lack of effect, more shades approached from all sides, greedy fingers stretched out to feast on my warm body. Fuck! That was not going well. Time to go for my ace. I didn¡¯t have a fire or a flashlight, but I had red mana. And I already had once gotten my sword to burn, so why not again. Surely, a fire-sword cutting right through them would have some impact¡­ No time like the present to try. I grabbed all the red mana I could from my mana cycle and pushed it into the blade, just like I had done before. Right away, I could see the metal in the blade begin to almost ripple as the temperature started to rise rapidly. And then the sword began to shine in a dull red glow. Which was probably as good as it was going to get. I was pretty sure it wasn¡¯t ever going to be shining brightly, like a filament in a light bulb, unless I had a metric ton of mana and didn¡¯t care about ruining the blade. But I was hoping that what I did manage was enough to cause some damage. As I raised the blade in front of me, I could feel the scorching heat emitted by the sword, strangely enough leaving my hand unharmed. The handle of the weapon felt warm, but not enough to be uncomfortable. And the shades seemed to shrink back slightly. Emboldened, I lunged at one of the shades, impaling it with my sword. Immediately, I could see the inky substance that made up the body of the shadow-creature swirl around like crazy, distorting the shape of the shade and causing¡­ discomfort? I wasn¡¯t sure what the impact exactly was, but the shade seemed less mobile or perhaps just weakened. Sadly, it wasn¡¯t enough to kill it. It was just floating in the air, perhaps moving somewhat more sluggishly than before. And a few of the other shades used the opportunity to attack me from behind and the side, causing the burning freeze to spread to more and more parts of my body. Teeth chattering, I realized with trepidation that the shades were all around me, forming an almost solid sphere of drifting black shapes, blotting out whatever little moonlight there was coming through the dense cloud cover. Maybe I could dive through them, insubstantial as they were¡­ but just the thought of putting my head into one of the shades made me shiver. Instead, I turned around rapidly, trying to cover all sides and angles with my softly glowing sword, hacking and slashing like a madman. But I realized quickly that it was not going to be enough. At best, I could hold them at bay, but my stamina just wasn¡¯t there, and there were too many of them. But what if¡­? I activated Shadow Skin. Immediately, black mana poured forth and shrouded my skin in swirling shadows, similar to how the shades appeared in my mana vision. Instantly, the specters lost interest and began to slowly drift away. Relieved, I stumbled away, down the path. And then I began to run. I could maintain the shadow skin for quite a while by now, but not for multiple hours. So it was imperative to get some distance between those things and myself. Chapter 37 – One Down, Nine to Go Soon after, I reached the bottom of the mountain trail and approached a parking lot with a few parked cars around. Just for the off chance that someone had forgotten to lock the car, I checked one door after another. I could have easily broken a window, but the whole point was to find a secure space to hide for the rest of the night. Not that it would be completely safe, but it certainly beats being out in the wild without any protection at all. And I got lucky. It seemed like today was a good day for me, after all. A Toyota Sienna was unlocked, and I was able to fold down the rear seats and create the most comfortable resting spot in a long time. I even found a half-emptied bottle of Coke, lukewarm and flat. But I didn¡¯t care. I quaffed it immediately. And damn it was good. In addition, a few trail-mixes were lying around. Probably for some kids, judging by the chaos on the rear seats. I was quite ravenous, so I devoured those as fast as I could. I urgently needed to bulk up, and I was going to try and stuff myself with any food I could find. Despite the cushions and relative safety, sleep didn¡¯t come easily. I couldn¡¯t stop thinking. A whirlwind of emotions churned through me, doubts, regrets, elation, triumph¡­ my mind replayed the events of the last few days. Frankly, it was almost surreal to be back in civilization, even though it was only a car in a trail-head parking lot. All those comfort things, like packaged food, soft upholstery, and sugary drinks that one takes for granted until they aren¡¯t there any longer. And what would I give to be able to drive this car out of the park, go to a hospital and have someone take care of me¡­ see my parents, feel protected. And forget about all the deaths, pain, and suffering. But then my thoughts returned to my years in the wheelchair and, yet again, I realized that what I was going through was a small price to pay for the ability to walk, to be independent! This at least, was a life worth living. Not that it was all bad being in a wheelchair. But still¡­ Since I couldn¡¯t change what had happened anyway, I just shrugged my shoulders and began to meditate to calm myself down. As I focused my mind on the mana cycle, my mind slowed down, and I gently drifted into a deep sleep. ---------------------------------------------------- Next thing I knew, the sun was shining straight into my eyes, and I had drool running from the corner of my mouth. I wiped my chin with my sleeve, grimacing at the smell that assaulted me. I was positively reeking. The shirt I had pilfered from the first elf had changed its color to rust-red from all the blood and smelled accordingly. Sweat, dirt, and blood, all mixed together, creating an odor comparable to a bloody carcass left to rot in the hot sun for a couple of days. And my breath wasn¡¯t much better. Maybe I could find some toothpaste or, failing that, some mentos. At least I could do something about the smelly shirt right away. I opened my backpack and rummaged around the clothes I had taken from the dead hikers on the mountain and put on some functional wear that fit me reasonably well. Now I just needed some better pants and hiking boots, and I¡¯d feel almost ready to brave the outside world again. Speaking of¡­. it was getting hot in the car. Based on the position of the sun, it had to be late morning already. And I kind of needed to empty my bladder. I was about ready to get out of the car when I noticed movement from the corner of my eyes ¨C a man stumbled out of the bushes onto the parking lot, his jitteriness and frantic eyes betraying his anxiety. And a moment later, the reason became clear ¨C a group of grey-skinned, solidly built humanoids stepped out of the woods, hooting loudly when they spotted the man standing there, frozen in panic. This was not good. Not good at all. ¡®Move!¡¯ I silently urged the man, but by then, it was already too late. The grey-skinned creatures, I dubbed them orcs due to their resemblance to the drawings I had seen in fantasy books, already had surrounded the human and I closed my eyes, expecting his imminent demise. But it got worse. Apparently, the orcs decided that it was time to have some fun. Rather than just kill the man, they began to torture him, laughing out loud whenever they managed to elicit a new scream from the raw throat of their prisoner. And while I had been hardened by the experience of the last few days, it was different when it was a fellow human being that suffered so. I wanted to jump out and kill those fuckers, save the poor chap. But self-preservation prevailed. There was no way I could overwhelm ten orcs all by myself. Each orc was as tall as me and about one and a half times as wide, with thick, solid muscles, and a tough-looking skin. They were wearing what one could generously call leather armor but was, in fact, a random assortment of thick leather covering parts of their body, and a variety of weapons, ranging from spears to axes and swords. None of the weapons was of particularly high quality from what I could tell, but serviceable. Was I a coward, staying hidden while someone suffered a gruesome fate? Perhaps. It certainly didn¡¯t feel good, and the screams would give me nightmares for a long time to come. But I also wasn¡¯t ready to throw my life away just to make a gesture, just to prove to myself that I was prepared to help anyone without considering the risk to myself.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it But I would make those bastards pay. While I wasn¡¯t ready to face them in open fight, I¡¯d harry them from the shadows, picking off stragglers, terrorizing them in the dark. They¡¯d learn the feeling of fear. I wasn¡¯t entirely sure why I felt that strongly about it. Was it the need to prove to myself that I could and would take action, show myself that I was not a wimp, not a coward hiding from the danger? Or was it because there was a feeling of us against them, humanity against the rest? I had encountered now goblins, elves, and orcs, and all of them seemed to prey on humans. So it was time to turn the table and show them that they couldn¡¯t just walk all over us. Whatever the reason, I was gonna kill¡¯em all. --------------------------------------------------- ¡°Sue, there are more of them coming down the road, get your ass up the tree,¡± Ben whispered just loud enough for Sue to be able to hear. ¡°I will go down the road and warn the others. I¡¯ll see you at camp. Stay safe!¡± ¡°Shit, I hope there aren¡¯t too many of them,¡± Sue grumbled as she quickly scaled the oak tree a few yards off the road. The dense foliage made it a prime hiding spot from any of the gars, especially since they were surprisingly careless in scanning the surrounding. It was as if they had no worry in the world about monsters or humans for that matter. Perhaps that was because there were several hundred of them in their bloody camp. At first, Sue and the others had not believed Betsy and Jimmy¡­ another sapient race? Setting up camp in a field off of Algonquin mountain? But then they had found the tracks, and the bloody remains of Bob, hacked apart until he was hardly recognizable. No trace of John, but Sue feared the worst. And, of course, they had started seeing patrols with five to ten gars each, roaming the areas. So far, none of them had discovered their little camp, but it was only a matter of time. Jimmy had pleaded for running away, cutting through the wilderness and getting back to Lake Placid from a different direction, hopefully warning the others before it was too late. But Ben had decided that they first should find out more before taking off into the wilderness. The sheer number of gars implied that they posed a significant risk to Lake Placid if that was their destination. They needed to find out if the gars intended to move again, and if so in what direction. And some information about their habits, gear, and intelligence might come in handy as well. No one had been excited about the decision, but Ben had said that he had read a book about military strategy once¡­ so there was that. Sue wasn¡¯t sure if she agreed with the approach because it put her at risk, but she was willing to trust Ben for now. Which implied that she had to sit in a tree, hugging the trunk and hoping that the gars wouldn¡¯t find her. Sue stopped thinking about the events of the last twelve hours and turned her focus on the road coming from the Algonquin Peak trailhead. And there they were. A group of gars, leisurely walking down the asphalt road, weapons casually resting on their shoulders. Sue couldn¡¯t help but shudder at the sight of the squat brutish creatures. They looked violent and utterly inhuman. And she wished that she could take a rifle and pick them off one by one. Or, better yet, a machine gun. It would be easy. They had no concept of camouflage, of stealth, probably because they didn¡¯t need to. There was strength in numbers after all. The gars passed her tree close enough that she could make out their grunting laughter, and a whiff of their smell drifted up to her position. As luck would have it, one of the gars decided that it needed to relieve itself at the roadside, only five yards from her tree. Sue didn¡¯t dare to make any noise. With clammy fingers, she grabbed the tree trunk, willing herself to disappear, or failing that, become one with the tree. ¡®Please, don¡¯t look up,¡¯ she mentally prayed to herself, like a little mantra, again and again. It seemingly took forever, and the more time passed, the more nervous Sue got. All it took was one look up into the tree at the right spot. Or her having to sneeze¡­ Just when the gar was about done, a shadowy figure quickly slid closer from behind and a dark, blurry looking weapon darted forward, drawing a line across the throat of the unsuspecting gar. Gurgling, it briefly flailed around, clawing at his throat in apparent panic, only to drop to its knees and then fall face first into its own piss. Sue stared down at the gar almost at the base of her tree, not believing her eyes. What had just happened? And then the air flickered briefly, and the blurry figure came into focus as if shadows were peeling off his body, one after another in quick succession. It was a scrawny, painfully thin guy, early twenties from the looks of him, wearing a somewhat strange assortment of clothing, with partially torn shoes and pants, newish-looking functional wear on top, and a coat, utterly unbefitting the hot temperatures over his shoulders. And his eyes¡­ from the brief glimpse she got, it looked as if they were golden, with a hue of green, and brown. Or perhaps changing color? The short look she got was not enough to establish one or the other¡­ but they certainly were mesmerizing. Just when Sue was about to get her act together and call out to the guy, to warn him about the other gars and perhaps invite him to the safety, temporary as that might be, of their camp, he turned around and hurried after the remaining nine gars trotting down the road toward their massive tent-city. -------------------------------------------------- One down, nine to go. I couldn¡¯t believe my luck when one of those orcs had foolishly stayed behind to take a piss. I mean, weren¡¯t they concerned at all about predators? Either way, I wasn¡¯t going to let myself be asked twice. I had sneaked up to the distracted orc and slit the damn creature¡¯s throat. Seeing the orc writhe on the ground, desperately trying to breathe, I felt¡­ nothing. And that kind of worried me. Was I becoming a stone-cold killer? A butcher without empathy and remorse? But I had felt plenty of emotions when those orcs had tortured the human, so perhaps I shouldn¡¯t be too worried. It was us against them. Or perhaps just me against them. Briefly, I worried about what had happened to Lake Placid. If orcs were running around this area, they might have already overrun the town. Annie! Fuck. I hadn¡¯t really thought about her for the last couple of days. And now I was worried that something might have happened to her. But that wasn¡¯t something I had control over. Unlike the fate of those orcs. They were dead without knowing it. With a last glance at the orc slowly suffocating in front of me, I turned around and hurried after the other orcs. Once I got closer, I activated Shadow Skin once more and moved parallel to the street under the cover of some trees. It wasn¡¯t perfect, but as long as the orcs didn¡¯t know I was there, I figured that I had a good chance of escaping detection. Soon enough, the group of orcs apparently realized that their comrade wasn¡¯t coming back, and two of them split from the rest to check on their companion. Or they had a sudden urge to retrace their steps. I didn¡¯t fucking care what the reason was, but it meant I had another opportunity beckoning. Ambushing two at once wasn¡¯t going to be as easy as a sneak attack on one, but it should be doable. After all, they had no inkling that I was around. Keeping to the shadows, I kept pace with the two slow-moving orcs, careful to minimize the amount of noise I was causing. I wasn¡¯t a woods person, so I probably left a rather obvious trail, but at least I avoided breaking too many twigs under my feet. What worked in my favor was that the orcs paid very little attention to their surrounding, grunting animatedly at each other, farting loudly, and burping. Which, frankly, boggled my mind. I mean, one orc doesn¡¯t show up, even though it should¡­ wouldn¡¯t you think that something is wrong? That, just maybe, there is something dangerous out there? But I wasn¡¯t going to complain. Chapter 38 – Sue Despite their slow pace, it took the orcs only about six minutes to get back to the place where I had had my first kill. The moment they noticed the body, they changed from bumbling, carefree fools, to lethal warriors, ready for imminent action. I could see them tense up, muscles bulging as they scanned the area. All the while, their tiny ears were twitching, betraying their alertness and, perhaps, a certain degree of nervousness. The spear-wielding, bigger orc held its weapon at the ready and motioned the other orc to step forward to investigate. With apparent apprehension, the second orc cautiously moved closer and kicked the prone body with its foot, clearly looking for some reaction either from the body or from the surrounding bushes. After a tense moment, in which both orcs were clearly ready to explode into action, the orc bent down, and, with a grunt, flipped the corpse around, revealing the bloody gash across its throat and the mix of piss and dust on its face. I wasn¡¯t an expert on orc facial features, or on how to read their emotions, but the twitching nose, the downturn of their lips and their narrowed eyes indicated equal measures of disgust and consternation, as they stared at the body. Perhaps they had expected some monster to have killed their comrade or a random act of nature, not the kiss of a cold steel blade through the throat¡­ Either way, this was my opportunity. Moving as quietly as possible, I stepped out on the road and then rushed toward the back of the spear-wielding orc. At the last moment, the orc somehow noticed me coming and turned sideways, almost negating my attack with one easy move. Luckily, I had aimed for the middle of its back and therefore ended up at least cutting deeply into its side ¨C a painful but not debilitating wound. The orc grunted in pain and staggered back a step, but then immediately whipped its spear around, aiming for my head. An aggressive move. And a bad mistake. The orc had a weapon with a longer reach, and it wasn¡¯t alone. All it really had to do was to keep me occupied for a few seconds, and I would have had to flee. Its overly powerful attack instead unbalanced it and gave me an opening. I simply ducked under the sweeping headshot, and with that one easy evasion-move managed to keep the orc within reach of my sword and, at the same time, its excellent defensive weapon wildly out of position. And I didn¡¯t wait for another invitation. I stabbed the tip of my sword under the chin of the orc and pushed hard. For a fraction of a second, I was worried that I was too weak to pierce the orc¡¯s skin, too weak to deal significant damage, just like it almost had been the case with the goblin king and the shadow cat, but then the blade slid forward, straight into the orc¡¯s brain Just in time too. The other orc rushed toward me, screaming furiously and swinging its ax in a glittering arc toward my unprotected side. Instead of trying to pull out my sword and attempt to block the heavy ax, a strategy that was bound to fail given my current lack of strength and the difference in weapons, I simply dropped my blade and stepped to the side, just outside the reach of the orc¡¯s weapon. And while the weapon swooshed past my face, mere inches from dealing a lethal wound, I activated Midnight Skin, turning into a figure of absolute darkness. Suddenly there was fear in the orc¡¯s eyes - a slight twitch of the eyes, the tense body, and the fact that it was shrinking back a half-step, all indicating its sudden apprehension. ¡°I¡¯m the dark reaper, the collector of souls, feasting on your fears,¡± I cackled somewhat melodramatically, delighted by the effect. The Midnight Skin was meant to create some confusion, to momentarily distract the orc, but it felt good to be able to instill terror in these vile creatures. I had managed the same with the goblins, but they were just so pathetic that it felt like a hollow accomplishment. This, however, was a powerful creature, at a guess physically at least three times stronger than me, so it was meaningful. And intoxicating. I could live with that kind of persona - a dark shade, prowling the night, picking off orcs, until they¡¯d be sitting in their camp, gibbering in fear. But either way, fear didn¡¯t mean that the fight was over. Far from it. The orc already had gotten its wits together and readied itself for a powerful backswing. Just like the first orc, it overextended, though, relying too much on its overwhelming force. With a swift motion, I drew my dagger, crouched low, and then lunged forward underneath the swing. I almost didn¡¯t make it, as that moment my leg decided to go wimpy on me, lacking the force to propel me forward. But in the end, I managed to, at least, nick the orc¡¯s leg. Not a lethal wound, but enough to give me an edge, I hoped. Right then, I noticed someone approaching from behind the orc. For a moment, I got panicked, thinking that there had been a third orc that I had somehow missed, but then there was a dull thud and the orc staggered as if drunk, before collapsing to the ground, its skull half caved-in. Wearily, I stepped back, unsure, at first, of who or what had approached and assisted with the fight. As it turned out, it had been a twentysomething-year-old woman, perhaps 5¡¯5¡±, blonde, short hair, well-toned from the looks of it with a broken baseball bat in her hand. And she was looking pale. Even sick. ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m sorry, I¡­,¡± was all she managed to say before she rushed off to the bushes to noisily throw up. Somewhat bemused, I picked up my weapons and briefly searched the bodies of the two orcs for anything valuable. Not that I had high hopes for good loot. And, indeed, there was nothing that made sense to take, unless I wanted to try and put together those disparate pieces of hardboiled leather into an armor that would actually fit me. And despite my complete lack of armor that was somewhat low on my list of priorities right then ¨C I had no idea how to craft armor and was too weak to lug around much additional weight during a fight. My strength was my stealth ability, not fighting in a melee. Speaking of melee¡­ that girl had to have some serious muscle to smush in the orc¡¯s skull like that. I was no expert, but it looked to me as if the orcs had really thick bones around their brain that should have provided solid protection. And breaking a baseball bat like that¡­ it wasn¡¯t the skinny part of the bat either that had broken, but the wider top part. Impatiently, I waited for the gal to get her act together. While I could understand some reaction to the violence, I was a tad surprised that it was bad enough that she had to throw up. By then, I had seen so much death that I kinda had gotten used to it. Sure, there was a difference between doing the deed yourself rather than just watch the end-result as a passive observer. But I had seen what these creatures had done, same as the goblins before and even the elves. None of them had deserved any mercy, and I didn¡¯t really feel bad snuffing them out. Usually anyway. I had my own demons to fight when it came to cold-blooded killing. About a minute later, the girl emerged, wiping her chin with the sleeve of her t-shirt. ¡°Sorry ¡®bout that,¡± she said self-consciously. ¡°The noise of the bat caving in that skull, and the blood¡­ I just, I don¡¯t know. I couldn¡¯t¡¯ handle it.¡± ¡°That¡¯s ok,¡± I responded. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. In fact, I hardly registered what she was saying. My eyes were glued on her. I hadn¡¯t realized at first how stunning she looked. ¡°Hello, anyone there?¡± ¡°Wh¡­ what?¡± I hadn¡¯t even realized that there had been an awkward pause and that I had been staring at her, fairly obviously too, I guessed. I mean, what the fuck? The first person I encounter after the dungeon turns out to be a cute woman that even assists me in a fight, perhaps saving my ass, and I just space out staring at her. So. Fucking. Me. ¡°I said that I am Sue, and asked what are you doing out here by yourself, attacking gars,¡± Sue repeated impatiently. ¡°Are you suicidal or just stupid?¡± ¡°Aren¡¯t you a bit quick to judge?¡± I asked, slightly upset. ¡°You are out here as well, and as you can see, I did just fine killing two of these creatures, and I think I would have gotten the last one as well if you hadn¡¯t done it yourself.¡± ¡°Sorry, maybe you are right. I shouldn¡¯t have said that. But I saw you sneaking up on those creatures and,¡± Sue looked up and down my body, ¡°you hardly seem to be able to swing a sword with those skinny arms, so you have no business taking on those brutes, even if you succeeded killing these ones. You have some pretty nifty sneaking skills there. What is that?¡± ¡°Well, thanks for the vote of confidence there in my strength. I appreciate it. And that skill is based on black mana. But, not that I want to be rude or anything¡­ I¡¯d rather move away from this spot before a random monster smells the blood and comes here, or other orcs investigate and find us out in the open.¡± ¡°Orcs?¡± ¡°Yeah, I mean, these guys here. I call them orcs,¡± I said while moving off into the bushes at the side of the road. ¡°They are actually gars, not orcs,¡± Sue said. ¡°And where are you going? Do you have a place somewhere? What is your name anyway? Or should I call you,¡± she paused for a moment before switching to a deeper voice, ¡°Dark Reaper, the Collector of Souls?¡± When she was done with her little spiel, she broke out in a burst of pearling laughter. I could feel the blood rush to my skin, turning me red like a tomato, I was sure. And for a moment, I almost began to regret meeting another person. It just made life more complicated. Perhaps I had gotten used to just be by myself, the quiet, my own pace, and not having to explain things. And no one making fun of me. But then I remembered how lonely I had felt these last days. And a bit of ribbing was just part of that sometimes. With a sigh, I turned around. ¡°Sorry, I¡¯m Daniel.¡± ¡°And yeah, that must have sounded a bit cheesy, I guess,¡± I added with a self-deprecating smile. ¡°Way to rub it in, though.¡± ¡°In terms of where I am going¡­ I¡¯m getting off the street so that I¡¯m a bit safer, and I don¡¯t really have a place to go to. Probably I will camp tonight behind some bushes and then later tomorrow head out to Lake Placid. And don¡¯t you want to pick up some better weapon?¡± I pointedly looked at the ax and spear that the two orcs, gars, whatever, had dropped and the sword next to the first corpse. ¡°Uhm, maybe?¡± Sue sheepishly responded. ¡°I don¡¯t really know how to use those weapons. But I guess if I can hit something with a baseball bat, I should be able to hit it with an ax, right?¡± I only grunted in response, busy trying to figure out whether it made sense to chase after the other gars right away, or if I should wait for the night. If none of the three gars returned within the next twenty minutes or so, the other gars would surely be alarmed and much more careful. And while Sue¡¯s statement that I looked like a weakling was painful, it wasn¡¯t exactly far from the truth. Without some overpowered ranged attack, I was not going to take on seven gars at once all by myself. That said¡­ ¡°So, Sue, what are you doing out here?¡± ¡°Me, oh, you know, I¡¯m on one of the training missions!¡± I stared at her for a moment. ¡°The what?¡± ¡°The training missions.¡± I looked at her blankly. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you haven¡¯t heard about them¡­ Oh my gosh, really? Under which stone have you been hiding? Everyone knows about them!¡± Sue said in utter disbelief. ¡°Well, apparently not,¡± I grumbled in response. ¡°I wasn¡¯t exactly around much lately.¡± Sue looked curiously at me. ¡°So where have you been then? Out here, roughing it in the wilderness? No, that can¡¯t be, you¡¯d be dead all by yourself¡­ some remote house somewhere? A cabin in the woods?¡± ¡°I¡¯d be happy to tell you the story of my life later, but for now, I¡¯d say we get a move on. What I wanted to ask you, though¡­ are you alone?¡± Sue looked at me with a somewhat weird expression on her face and turned sideways, eyeing the weapons while inching away from me. Damn. I had done it again. I raised my hands while stepping back. ¡°Oh, sorry, that¡­ might be interpreted weirdly. I am really harmless.¡± Sue¡¯s eyes darted toward the three dead gars on the ground. ¡°Uhm, like apart from being able to kill things¡­¡± my voice petered out as I realized that I was just digging myself an ever-deeper hole. ¡°Look, I¡¯m hunting those gars, which is why I killed those three fuckers. Well, two of them, I guess. I am really not interested in you¡­ I mean, in hurting you. I¡­ shit, so, the point is that I might need help with hunting the rest of the group I¡¯m following. There are seven of them left, and that is probably too much for me without some support. And while I appreciated your help here, I think that a bigger group would be better.¡± Sue studied my face for a bit and then suddenly grinned: ¡°You really have a way with words, huh? If you weren¡¯t so weird in so many ways, I¡¯d have run away or smacked you in the face with something heavy a few times already. And those gars¡­ I am not sure about killing them, not that I mind if you do¡­ The point is, though, they are kinda huge and, in fact, there are hundreds of them, not just seven. But, I think I can at least bring you to the others, and maybe someone has some other thoughts¡­¡± She grabbed the ax from the ground, still keeping an eye on me, and then after a brief hesitation, also took the spear and the sword. ¡°Why don¡¯t we go to our camp? Unless you prefer being on your own¡­?¡± Based on her tone, she wasn¡¯t as eager any longer to have me come along. Great job, Daniel. Way to go. If it was true that there were hundreds of those creatures out there, then I probably had to drop the idea of going after the gars for now, so getting back to Lake Placid was the new priority. And while going by myself would allow me to sneak more easily, I still had to sleep at some point and only had one pair of eyes¡­ there was some safety in numbers. And I really did miss company, despite me being a bumbling idiot sometimes. And they might have real food! That last one clinched it. I mean, trail mixes are alright, but their taste gets a bit overbearing quickly. ¡°Sure, lead the way then,¡± I said, eager to finally start moving. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind, you go ahead, and I will walk behind you,¡± Sue responded almost apologetically. ¡°Over there, toward that tall hill. We are camped on the other side, inside a canyon.¡± ¡°Ok, no worries. It is good to be cautious,¡± I responded, forcing a smile. ¡°Like that, I cannot sneak up on you from behind.¡± ¡°Uhm,¡± Sue responded, stepping a bit further away from me. I rolled my eyes. ¡°Relax, that was just a joke. I am not going to do anything weird.¡± I pushed my way through the bushes, changing direction every now and then when prompted by Sue. It took about fifteen minutes to reach the top of the hill, and I was winded. ¡°Sorry, I need to take a quick break,¡± I wheezed, plopping my butt down on a log. ¡°This is kind of exhausting.¡± ¡°Seriously?¡± Sue asked in a disbelieving tone, and apparently utterly unaffected by our strenuous hike up the hillside. ¡°How did you ever survive in the wilderness like that? Or did you hide in a trailer somewhere and not move for the last few days, apart from your current suicide mission? You actually kinda look like that, to be honest. All bones and skin.¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah, I got it the first time already. Skin and bones. No need to harp on it more.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t mean to be insulting, but I just¡­ don¡¯t get it,¡± Sue said, almost apologetically. ¡°Look, I had a couple of close brushes with death, including an actual death during this last week. That kinda left me a bit more frail than usual.¡± ¡°Stop screwing around with me, Daniel, if you don¡¯t wanna tell me that you are a geek or a loner-nerd that had been hiding somewhere, that is fine. No need to try and impress me with some weird stories.¡± ¡°Whatever!¡± I grumbled before forcing myself back on my feet and making my way down the hill on the other side. I could have argued, told her about all my gruesome experiences¡­ but what was the point? ¡°So, how are things in Lake Placid?¡± I asked over my shoulder. ¡°Well, as of a day ago¡­ calm, I guess. Training is going well for most, and there has been progress on setting up some basic fortifications. A few attacks by reaver dogs, scatbears, and a couple of swarms of lucors¡­ but nothing that we, with the occasional help of Chad and his team, couldn¡¯t deal with.¡± ¡°Chad?¡± ¡°Yeah, you know, the I¡¯tisch League of Cities?¡± ¡­ ¡°You don¡¯t know, I take it. Why am I not surprised?¡± Sue said. ¡°Have you been to Lake Placid at all since the transition?¡± ¡°Actually, yes, the first day,¡± I responded somewhat reluctantly. I wasn¡¯t entirely sure how much information to withhold about myself. With my current appearance, I could probably get away with pretending to be a different person and fool anyone but Annie. Unfortunately, I had already told Sue that my name was Daniel, so it would make it easier for people to draw that connection. And if it did come out that I had been that Daniel, the one previously in a wheelchair, then questions would arise on why I had been lying through my teeth the entire time¡­ not a great way to build trust. And none of these people had done anything wrong to me. I really only had a beef with the bikers. And I hadn¡¯t really figured out what to do about them either. I mean, make them pay, obviously. But did that mean that I was going to injure them? Or kill them? And if so, who? All of them? Or just Big Pete and his two henchmen that did the actual deed? Lots of questions and few answers so far. Just a quick comment on the previous chapter So instead of responding to the individual comments I decided to just publish a new chapter that I will delete later... 1. Daniel has an emotional intelligence below average. 2. This was pointed out in the beginning of the story... that he is awkward around people sometimes and all that. Yes, he used to be moderately handsome, succesful, had a gf and all that... but never was a "jock". 3. The criticism is/was fair... I think I overdid it a bit, especially with the some of the sexual tone. 4. I rewrote some portions of the chapter, take a look if you wantEnjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. 5. There is still awkwardness, somewhat weird reactions, but that is partially because Sue is like that, and because Daniel, see point 1/2 is awkward at times. And he has been in isolation for a week, in a dungeon, that is bound to screw with your mind a bit... I just took out a few things, changed some others, and toned it down. So hopefully that is something that works better with the flow of the story. 6. I appreciate the constructive criticism helping to make the story better 7. I don''t appreciate the uncontructive criticism. If you don''t like it and want to express it... take a moment to write a few words on how I can improve. I am not a native speaker, not a natural writer it seems, so I put a ton of work into this, more than I should really; so I consider it a matter of respect to put in a minute to write something constructive. Chapter 39 – The Camp For now, I decided to just keep my answers about my own background short and vague, and reveal as little as possible without appearing to be actively obfuscating anything. ¡°I experienced the first Reaver Dog attack in Lake Placid, and that was about it,¡± I continued, volunteering some additional information in the hope of getting her to talk more about what had happened afterward. And what she shared with me while we made the trek down into the canyon was stunning ¨C a group of foreign adventurers had come in and taken over Lake Placid. Just like that. At first, no one had taken them too seriously, even though they had slaughtered that first group of bikers. But it soon had become apparent that they were the real deal. Their combat capabilities were through the roof, and they also had plenty of skills useful for more civil settings. And instead of hoarding those to secure their position of power and control, they were freely sharing them, teaching people how to cycle their mana, how to cast spells, fight, build fortifications, and all kinds of other things. ¡°So, what is in it for them?¡± I asked, somewhat suspicious of so much generosity. ¡°There has to be a hook, no?¡± ¡°That, Daniel, is the big question. Supposedly it is some weird competition against other nations. Don¡¯t ask me the details as it went right over my head. But, apparently, there are lots of nations on Miranda that war against each other for supremacy, or for survival, or¡­ well, one reason or another. And these nations can expand by conquering other nations¡¯ territories using good oldfashioned military campaigns, or they can participate in dungeon sweepstakes, winner takes all.¡± ¡°What is that supposed to mean? Dungeon sweepstakes?¡± ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know if you were aware, probably not, but there is supposed to be dungeon around here somewhere. And nations that want to add the dungeon to their territory can participate in a contest. But to do so, they have to invest resources, basically an ante. Which is us, it turns out. Or rather the magical energies they invested in a teleport of a semi-random populated region from one of the multiverses. The more nations or groups compete, the bigger the pot.¡± That sounded insane. But I had been to the dungeon already and had encountered some weird shit there¡­ so maybe? But¡­ ¡°And so, how is that connected to the teaching part?¡± ¡°Well, there is some sort of ranking involved in this competition, so that probably plays into that. Chad has not been very forthcoming on this issue. Dungeon exploration seems to play a role as well, but I¡¯m unclear on how much.¡± ¡°Seem like you don¡¯t know much about what is going on,¡± I quipped. ¡°Ignorance is bliss?¡± ¡°Screw you, Mr. Skinny Legs,¡± Sue shot back good-naturedly. ¡°At least, I know more than you.¡± ¡°Great accomplishment,¡± I responded. ¡°Since I¡¯ve never even met Chad or any of the others¡­¡± ¡°Speaking of¡­ how come you can do magic if you never met them?¡± Sue asked nose scrunched up as the seeming inconsistency suddenly occurred to her. ¡°Well, I experimented and figured it out,¡± I said slowly. ¡°You mentioned that they taught you¡­ what exactly did they teach you? What kind of spells can you do?¡± Sue looked quizzically at me for a moment before responding. ¡°I won¡¯t just tell you all the spells that I know¡­ but they taught us some basic exercises to increase control and gave us a few starter spells to work on.¡± ¡°Gave you spells, what does that mean?¡± I asked curiously. ¡°So, once you display enough proficiency with mana manipulation in your type of mana, they have this little ritual they do.. and then, bang, knowledge of a new spell enters your brain. Well, your blood, as I understand it, but you kinda know how to cast it, almost instinctively.¡± ¡°What the fuck! Really?¡± I was almost outraged at how easy it was. I had worked my butt off, experimenting, struggling to push the mana into this or that application, only to end up with a few paltry spells, and people in Lake Placid got their spells handed to them on a silver platter? ¡°Can you show me one of your spells?¡± I asked. Sue looked questioningly at me. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Just because¡­, well, I basically just want to see if it looks any different from when I do my own spells.¡± Instead of responding, Sue stretched her arm toward me. Almost immediately, I saw runes, lit up in a white light, race along Sue¡¯s arms toward her outstretched hand, and a split second later, the air began to move. Just in time, I switched on my Mana Vision to see twisting strands of white mana rush all around me, buffeting me with a gust of wind, strong enough to push me back a half-step. That was definitely different from what it looked like when I did magic. For one, I didn¡¯t have any runes run down my arm, at least none that I had ever noticed. And secondly, this had been freaking fast. Activating Shadow Skin was relatively fast by now, after all that practice I had put into it, but it did not activate nearly as quickly unless I had previously prepared for it and then just triggered the spell. And having a spell go off that quickly¡­ that offered fantastic opportunities. Like that wind gust¡­ by itself, it was not too powerful, but if one could cast that in the middle of a fight with a flick of the wrist to unbalance the opponent, it was potentially quite useful.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. ¡°There. Happy now?¡± Sue asked, interrupting my musings. ¡°By the way, what¡¯s up with your eyes? Are they like magic or something?¡± ¡°Why do you ask? Anything wrong with them?¡± ¡°Well, apart from them just turning silver when I cast my spell and them changing colors every few seconds¡­ nothing major,¡± Sue deadpanned. ¡°So?¡± ¡°Uhm, I really have no idea,¡± I responded contemplatively, ¡°I wasn¡¯t even aware of it. Apart from the silver¡­ that is one of my spells.¡± ¡°Oh, what does it do?¡± ¡°It allows me to see mana,¡± I said absentmindedly, while still trying to figure out why my eyes might be changing colors. I needed a damn mirror. Sue whistled appreciatively. ¡°Oh, that is so cool! What does it look like? Is it like an x-ray or something?¡± ¡°Well, not quite,¡± I replied. And then I described to her, to the best of my ability, what the view was like, while we made our way down into the canyon. And even though I was distracted by the conversation, I was struck by how beautiful the gorge was. Red-streaked beige-brown and near-vertical walls seemingly reached up to the sky, only disrupted, here and there, by the small trees clinging desperately to the few outcroppings along the steep cliff. At the bottom, the limestone was polished smooth over the eons, parts of it covered with slick moss and algae. Occasionally, the walls closed in on both sides, creating passageways barely wide enough room to squeeze through. And the small lively creek running through the canyon intermittently tumbled down small waterfalls into deep pools of frigid water. A few times, there was no way to avoid wading through the cold water. Soon my teeth started chattering, and I was glad for the warm rays of the sun still reaching the other side of the canyon, at least in the broader portions of it. Could I use the red mana to warm myself? That should be possible, right? I had to experiment with that, like urgently. But I didn¡¯t want to do it in front of Sue for a couple of reasons - there was no need to reveal that I had red mana, and I also couldn¡¯t ignore the possibility that experimenting with red mana would burn stuff around me, including my clothes. At least, all the talking and hiking together had reduced Sue¡¯s anxiety about me being some type of dangerous weirdo. Toward the end, she was walking right next to me, where possible, and sometimes in front where it was not. Finally, after perhaps half an hour of slogging through the winding and twisting gorge, the canyon opened up into a somewhat more open space, and I could see a few dark-green tents set up on the slightly elevated, rocky bank, next to the creek. Backpacks were leaning against boulders next to the tents, and I could see a few clothes left out to dry in the fading sun. But no people. Before I could turn around and ask Sue where everyone was, a man stepped from behind a big boulder. He was fairly unremarkable, with average height, average built, and an average face. Altogether forgettable really, if it wasn¡¯t for the sword in his hand, which was a gaudy affair with gemstones set into the crossbar, golden filigree inserted into the handle and a large pearl as the pommel. It looked ridiculous. Clearly, it was a showpiece from an antique store, not a serious, practical blade. Was that one of the foreigners Sue had mentioned? But the appearance and weapon did not match her description of them as experienced and lethal fighters. Just then, an easy, warm smile lit up his face, and I finally recognized him. It was Ben, the guy who had been the unofficial leader of our group that first day. He looked different now. Back then, he had some extra wobble to his cheeks and chin, some baby fat, even though he was in his early thirties. Now¡­ I wouldn¡¯t call him square-chinned or tough-looking, but he had lost some of that extra pudginess, and he looked, well, average. Which was an improvement. ¡°Sue, you made it back!¡± He said with noticeable relief. ¡°I sure did, Ben, and put that toothpick away before you accidentally stab someone,¡± Sue responded cheerfully. ¡°And Tom, why don¡¯t you lower your bow, will ya? I wouldn¡¯t want your hand to slip and get hit by one of those arrows¡­¡± Only now did I notice the guy standing on top of one of the big boulders that were framing the entrance to this area. And I recognized him too. It was Tom of the Tom and Jerry pair of hunters that had used to go bow hunting before the change. He had picked a good spot, hard to see when entering, and offering a commanding position. He¡¯d be able to pepper anyone approaching the open area, or his boulder, with a few arrows before they could ever get into melee range. ¡°So who is this friend of yours,¡± Ben asked as he put away his sword. He scrutinized me carefully but not overly judgemental, which I liked. ¡°This is Daniel,¡± Sue responded. ¡°He was hanging out at the road, trying to hitch a ride for the last six days, but no cars came by. That is why he is so skinny.¡± ¡°Oh c¡¯mon, Sue¡­¡± I groaned. ¡°Stop it already.¡± Turning to Ben, I said: ¡°I was going after a couple of gars next to Sue¡¯s hiding spot, and so I met her. Serendipity, I guess, only that I am slowly beginning to regret it.¡± Ben chuckled, and I heard a few guffaws from behind the boulder, quickly revealing another two people in hiding. ¡°I hear you, Daniel. Sue is a special kind of girl. She grows on you, though. Just give it some time. Like a year or two,¡± Ben continued. ¡°I am Ben, as she already told you, I guess.¡± I shook his hand. ¡°Pleasure to meet you.¡± ¡°So, Daniel, you look familiar. Have we met before?¡± Ben asked, inspecting me once more. ¡°We have indeed,¡± I responded. ¡°First day of the change.¡± ¡°Ah, yeah, that was a turbulent time¡­ not that it¡¯s that much better now. But those first few hours were quite scary. I don¡¯t recall much of those moments, it¡¯s all one big blur by now. But, be that as it may, welcome to our humble camp and have some food. Despite Sue¡¯s occasionally strange sense of humor, she got this one right, you indeed look quite starved.¡± The rest of the evening was one of the most relaxing I had had in a long while. And there was food. Not like great food, mostly cans of beans, corn, beef jerky, pickles, and other stuff that was easy to carry and wouldn¡¯t spoil, and could be eaten without cooking. But for me, it was heaven on earth. I would have stuffed myself even more if I wouldn¡¯t have felt bad about eating all their supplies. And as I was eating, I told them an abridged version of my experience, basically claiming that I had fallen into a cave, and it had taken me a while to get out. I kept it light on details, deflecting their questions to things that I was more comfortable talking about, such as my Mana Vision, the Shadow Skin, and some of my background before the change, leaving out for now, that I had been that Daniel in the wheelchair. I didn¡¯t outright lie, just withheld some information, and redirected their curiosity at other times. And then I told them about the gars torturing the man, about my guilt, and anger, and the decision to hunt them down and the fortuitous meeting with Sue. As I had already suspected, the man had been part of their group, and they were quite emotional about his painful demise. Chapter 40 – Campfire Blues For a while, the others talked about John in hushed voices, their grief evident. I felt a bit like an outsider, that had intruded on something¡­ intimate, personal. And it was made worse by the fact that I had been the harbinger of the bad news. But they didn¡¯t blame me. Even better, they seemed to appreciate knowing - it gave them certainty and closure. In the end, Betsy said a quick prayer for John, and everyone mumbled their amen. And just like that, the group seemed to have come to terms with the death and was ready to move on. At first, I found that a bit strange. I mean, this had been, if not their friend, then at least their group member. Someone they knew and apparently had liked. But I also realized that while I had been stuck by myself in the depth of the dungeon, life had not stopped for other people. They had seen men and women, friends, perhaps even family struggle, die, or just vanish. And while a week doesn¡¯t seem like much time to adjust to all of this, it might, at least, make people numb to it. Surely, there was a lot of subconscious shit going on, grieving, doubts, blaming others and themselves... and it would take time to work through all of these issues, perhaps requiring professional help at some point, but, at least superficially, life just went on for the time being. And there probably was some selection bias as well¡­ those that couldn¡¯t adjust to the changes in this world, couldn¡¯t accept that violent death was a daily part of this new life would not be part of one of these training groups, getting ready to fight, explore, and brave deadly monsters. As the conversation turned back to life in general, the ins and outs of the situation in Lake Placid, and their progress in developing new skills, I was able to get a better picture of where I was in comparison to my fellow Americans. Most people that took part in the training offered by Chad and his group had achieved a solid mana cycle and trained up some of their attributes. A group of about one hundred people had managed to level up as well, with the highest apparently at level ten, sitting right beneath the threshold of reaching the next rank. Which confirmed my theory that there indeed was something beyond the novice rank. ¡°So, what are like, I don¡¯t know, normal attribute points then?¡± I asked out of curiosity. Ben stapled his fingers for a moment and then responded. ¡°So, the average score of people was roughly eleven or twelve right after the transition, with some of the athletes having physical scores substantially better.¡± He cleared his voice and then continued. ¡°I think the high score was right around,¡± he turned to the others for confirmation. ¡°A twenty or twenty-one for endurance for one of the triathletes, right?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Sue responded somewhat grudgingly. ¡°Nancy. She is a bit of a bitch, though.¡± ¡°Right,¡± Ben said without commenting further. ¡°Anyway, since then, many of us have trained like crazy and leveled up by fighting some monsters.¡± ¡°Or got handed free mana,¡± Sue complained sourly. ¡°Or that,¡± Ben acknowledged, slightly irritated by the interruptions. ¡°Where was I¡­ well, so obviously, training doesn¡¯t get you that far within a week, but people have been investing their points to push those scores significantly higher.¡± ¡°Those points¡­ like from leveling up?¡± ¡°Exactly ¨C anywhere between three and seven points for starting the mana cycle, and, for some, another one or two points for each subsequent level.¡± ¡°So, what is the normal rate there?¡± I asked, eager to put my own gains in perspective. I kinda hoped that I wasn¡¯t somehow at the bottom of the pecking order in terms of bonus points. ¡°It is not as if there are official statistics¡­,¡± Ben said slowly, looking at the others for help. ¡°In fact, most people don¡¯t really share their stats with others.¡± Jimmy cleared his voice and then said: ¡°Based on the cases I do know about, I¡¯d think about thirty percent gain no points, and the other people get one point for each level, with the exception, perhaps, of the members of the elite fighting unit, or EFU as they call themselves.¡± ¡°Pretentious jerks, the whole lot of them,¡± Sue grumbled, and even Betsy frowned a bit, clearly not enamored with the group either. ¡°Yes, yes, Sue, we all know your thoughts about them,¡± Ben said in an exasperated voice. ¡°You should talk it out with Nancy and Avinash sometime, you know? Like adults?¡± ¡°Yeah, fat chance,¡± Sue muttered. ¡°They can shoot, well stab themselves, for all I care. And that cunt Liz as well.¡± For the first time, Tom got involved in the conversation, having sat on the side for most of the discussion, idly poking a stick into the fire. ¡°Sue, stop using that filthy language.¡± ¡°What? Cunt? ¡®Cun¡¯t¡¯ stand cunt? Should I use pussy instead? Pussy Liz? You like that better? You know, Tom, that just doesn¡¯t sound right. And I can¡¯t call her a dick¡­ so cunt it is! And fuck off, will ya? I just hate that bitch.¡± Tom¡¯s only reaction was to roll his eyes and continue poking the glowing amber. Jimmy, meanwhile, coughed into his fist, in a way that sounded suspiciously like suppressed laughter. ¡°So, Daniel, I am sure you have already figured out that Sue has a history with some of the members of the EFU.¡± ¡°More like all of them,¡± Sue said snappishly. ¡°We,¡± Jimmy waved his hand, indicating Ben, Tom, and Betsy, ¡°think that the reason is that she almost made it into the group, but then failed one of the tests. So¡­ in other words, it is unmitigated jealousy!¡± ¡°Fuck jealousy,¡± Sue growled. ¡°I just¡­ don¡¯t like them, alright? They didn¡¯t have to laugh about me the way they did.¡± ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± Jimmy said, smiling. ¡°That was quite mean of them. Kind of immature, right?¡± ¡°Fuck you as well, Jimmy,¡± Sue snorted, but then had to grin as well. ¡°Well, screw them. We¡¯re gonna overtake them real soon anyway, special treatment or not. And then we¡¯ll see who is laughing.¡± For a while, no one said anything, instead quietly munching on their cold food. It wasn¡¯t an awkward pause, Sue¡¯s outburst notwithstanding, but more one of contemplation. At least for me. The world used to have a structure, a certain order to it, where those with money tended to rule. Now¡­ all that money bought you exactly nothing. No one cared about the once-mighty greenback, how many houses you had somewhere in California, or what your stock market portfolio looked like. No, your social standing in this new world was determined by¡­ well, by what? Martial prowess? Skills in magic? Leadership ability? Or, perhaps, who your friends where? Schmoozing with those foreigners seemed a good way to climb the social ladder unless it meant that people resented you for it. Soon everyone was done eating, and Ben decided that it was safe enough to light a fire since the smoke was not going to be visible any longer in the dark. We settled comfortably around the mesmerizing flames before Ben turned toward me. ¡°So, Daniel, what is your plan going forward?¡± I didn¡¯t answer immediately. What was I going to do? This new world was¡­ well, a new world. Limited and limitless at the same time. It was clear that I needed to get stronger, independent. But beyond that? Surviving as a long-term goal seemed somewhat¡­ uninspired. There had to be more. Exploration? There was a whole new world out there, and without planes and cars, one could probably spend a lifetime just traveling. Unless portals were ubiquitous. But even then, how big was this Miranda? As big as Earth? And then there was Annie¡­ I wasn¡¯t entirely sure what to think about her, how much to trust my current emotions. For that, I probably had to meet her in person and figure out what was what. As little as I had thought about her while stuck in the dungeon, maybe I wasn¡¯t as much into her as I had thought. But probably Ben wasn¡¯t even asking about long-term plans¡­ ¡°Well, if you don¡¯t mind¡­ I would like to get some rest here tonight. It would be nice to have the safety of additional people around me. Beyond that¡­ originally, I wanted to hunt those gars, but it now seems that there are simply too many around to effectively go after them by myself. So instead, I¡¯ll get back to Lake Placid, recover a bit and do some training.¡± I pointed at my legs and arms. ¡°As you can see, and as Sue has pointed out frequently,¡± I glared at her, ¡°I¡¯m not in the best physical shape right now. But I know for a fact that this can be trained very quickly since the advent of the system.¡± ¡°Yeah, we have been told that this happens when you start cycling mana,¡± Jimmy said from the side while inspecting the sword Sue had brought back to the group. ¡°Oh? So this is a well-established fact? Why does it happen?¡± I asked curiously. Jimmy stepped back and did a practice swing with the sword, using a technique that more resembled swinging a baseball bat than anything else. ¡°Well, from what Deklajan has said, it has something to do with the imprint of the body-image of our mind on the mana.¡± ¡°And what is that supposed to mean? I understand the relevance of image for mana effects¡­ but how does that matter?¡± ¡°So, the way I understood it,¡± Jimmy responded, watching with rapt attention how the blade swished through the air while reflecting the dancing flames from the little campfire, ¡°we have this subconscious image of our body, and the mana works to reestablish that state if there is a mismatch between the image and reality.¡± ¡°Huh, interesting,¡± I muttered. ¡°So then¡­ if you believe you are ugly and your nose is too big, it will actually happen?¡±Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°If your mind really perceives it that way¡­ then yes, I suppose. But I think it doesn¡¯t deviate too much from the objective image that we have seen of ourselves in the mirror. So, it isn¡¯t as if everyone suddenly turns ugly as hell if they have self-esteem issues. But it does have the effect that we heal wounds much more quickly than usual and if you lose a lot of body fat, or muscle tissue, due to some sickness or accident, but your mind doesn¡¯t quite see you like that you can achieve a faster return to your mind-consistent self.¡± ¡°Hmm, I see. That matches well with my experience,¡± I said. ¡°Have you been wounded?¡± Betsy asked curiously from the side. ¡°A few times, yes,¡± I responded carefully. ¡°And I have built muscle quite quickly, doubling my strength within a couple of days, which now makes more sense.¡± Sue burst out laughing. ¡°You doubled your strength? Oh my fucking god, how skinny have you been before? But then again¡­,¡± she smirked, ¡°it is easy to double if there isn¡¯t anything to start with.¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah, Miss Cutie-Pie, I got it¡­ I am skinny, ugly, and weak. Something new?¡± Jimmy began to guffaw. ¡°Cutie-pie! I love it! And you are in serious trouble now, Daniel.¡± ¡°Shut up, Jimmy,¡± Sue grumbled. ¡°And you, Daniel, no more cutie anythings, got it? Otherwise, I am going to punch you.¡± ¡°Whoa,¡± I raised my hands, taking a step back. ¡°So that is your trigger, huh? Good to know, cu-...¡± I trailed off when I saw her glare at me. ¡°You are living dangerously!¡± Sue snarled. ¡°Don¡¯t think I¡¯m not gonna punch you.¡± ¡°Is she always like that?¡± I whispered to Ben before turning to Sue. ¡°Relax,¡± I said in a calming voice. ¡°I was just teasing you¡­ ¡° And, to be honest, I was a bit worried. Sure, she did obviously exaggerate her reaction, but there was a core of true emotion in there. Her whole grousing about the EFU had seemed a bit overblown, as was this reaction to my teasing. Did she genuinely have anger issues? She sure looked a bit annoyed, and, perhaps, pretended to be even madder so¡­ that no one understood that she was actually angry? Like, reverse psychology or something? Or did she have underlying insecurity issues? I just couldn¡¯t get a good read on her, and that made her behavior slightly disconcerting. ¡°Sue, quit it already, will you?¡± Ben snorted, trying to suppress his laughter, but only partially succeeding. ¡°Daniel, as I am sure you¡¯ve already figured out, Sue is kinda mercurial. But you get used to her mood switches and learn about her triggers. Usually, she is quite sweet, and she is a good friend, so try not to provoke her, alright?¡± ¡°Sure thi-¡° I stopped talking when I heard a noise, somewhere down the canyon. Perhaps it had just been a loose stone dropping from the rim of the canyon after years of balancing precariously on the edge. But just maybe it had been something different. Something more worrisome. And I realized that we had been awfully noisy, lured into complacency by the homy feeling of the canyon walls around us, and the warmth and crackling of the campfire. It was a remote location, far from where anyone would live, but we should have remembered that there might be monsters around, and gars¡­ The others had heard it too, and immediately grabbed their weapons, the gaudy showpiece sword for Ben, Tom with his aluminum and fiberglass modern-era bow, and the newly acquired weapons from the dead gars in the hands of Betsy, Sue, and Jimmy. After a brief hesitation, Tom took a handful of arrows and climbed back up the boulder next to the entrance. In the meantime, Ben shoved some sand into the fire, and Betsy conjured water out of nothing, drenching the sand and still glowing ambers until no more light was visible, apart from the bright moonlight, which doused the whole area in a silvery dreamlike light. By then, Sue and Jimmy had already melted into the darkness, finding hiding spots behind a bush and one of the boulders close by. Instead of hanging back somewhere, I activated Midnight Skin and moved closer to the entrance area, hoping to catch a glimpse of what we were dealing with, if anything. Not that I could see beyond the next bend of the canyon¡­ but at least I would have some advance warning rather than none. After a minute without noise, I began to relax, figuring that indeed it must have been a stone dropping from a crumbling cliff or, perhaps, a nocturnal animal prowling the night, causing a rock to tumble down. But then I heard more noises. And this time, it was clear, this was not just a stone randomly falling. In fact, I now could make out the sound of metal clanging against stone, and the noise of rocks shifting and grinding against the soft limestone at the bottom of the canyon as if someone was moving through the winding gorge without too much worrying about masking their presence. And there was a noise that sent shivers down my spine ¨C sniffing and high-pitched wines, claws clicking against the stone ground, interspersed by an almost subvocal growl, reverberating through the stale air inside the canyon. Before I could relay the new information to the others, I saw a light suddenly appear around the bend of the canyon, illuminating the ochre-colored stone of the narrow gorge and causing shadows to appear in a macabre twisting dance as if foreshadowing our doom. And then the ugly, square-shaped, half reptilian head of a reaver dog appeared around the corner, straining hard against a wickedly barbed collar as its claws scrabbled for purchase on the smooth rock. A second later, another reaver dog appeared, similarly constrained from taking off, only to be followed by their two gar handlers and another four heavily armed henchmen. Immediately, I shrunk back into the shadows behind the boulder, readying my sword. We could have tried to make a run for it, but I didn¡¯t like our chances. A few of us might make it out, but I was almost positive that they would catch someone. And that someone just might be me. While the Midnight Skin gave me unmatched camouflage capabilities, those would hardly be useful in the narrow canyon, especially against creatures operating on smell rather than vision, like those reaver dogs. And given my low fitness, there was no way I could keep ahead of the gars, and even less the reaver dogs if it came to a chase. Sure, my ability to see in the dark, gave me an edge if we could kill the hounds, but I figured that just might not be enough. Especially with a full moon lighting the area that brightly. No, best to use our advantage of position and ambush them when they did not suspect anything. That was, of course, assuming that they didn¡¯t know exactly where we were. Clearly, they were weary. Perhaps they had heard us earlier. Or someone had seen the little camp from the rim of the canyon. Or they picked up on the excitement of the reaver dogs¡­ But, chances were that we could still surprise them somewhat. Either way, those dogs needed to go first because they negated my advantage of being able to hide in the shadows. I moved back a few steps, keeping to the edge of the huge boulder and waited for my chance. Moments later, the first reaver dog, straining on its leash and with saliva dripping down its vicious-looking maw, came around the corner, shortly followed by the second one. I was still considering my odds of success if attacking them straight on when I heard an arrow whistle through the night, hitting one of the reaver dogs right in the neck, paralyzing it immediately. The other hound howled in sudden alarm, only to be cut short when the tip of my sword pierced its ribcage. With something that sounded in between a whimper and a vicious snarl, it bit down on the blade, trying to tear it out of its body, but only managed to injure itself further. And then the gars rushed through the narrow passage into our campsite, screaming furiously. The first gar was greeted by another arrow in the face and dropped to the ground without a sound, but the other five simply trampled over the body in their rush to get into the campsite. I scrambled backward to get out of the way, but not quickly enough. Despite my Midnight Skin, one of the gars had clearly noticed me and jumped right after me, ax ready to smash into my frail body. The other four gars spilled into the open area, looking for other people to attack. And luckily, Ben jumped out of cover because otherwise, they might have all turned on me. Out of nowhere, a gale-force wind appeared, propelling Ben toward the gar in the lead with frightening speed. Despite the sudden attack, the gar was able to turn sideways and bring up his weapon to defend itself. Swords clanging against each other, they were soon engaged in a frantic exchange of rapid sword-strikes, with speed clearly favoring Ben, but fighting skill and strength on the side of the gar. The remaining three gars were about to help their comrade against Ben when Betsy and Sue stormed out of their hiding spots and attacked them from behind. Instead of getting involved in the fight, Jimmy was standing a bit off to the side, looking uncertain what to do with the sword in his hand, or perhaps not sure where to move. But then I had to focus all of my attention on just staying alive. The gar coming after me slashed its ax in short, controlled arcs, each strike powerful enough to maim or outright kill me, but not exposing the gar to an easy counterattack. Clearly, the gar was a skilled fighter, with plenty of experience on how to fight against someone with a sword. It was only due to Midnight Skin that I managed to survive those first few exchanges. While it did not outright hide me from the gar, it made it much harder for it to fight me effectively. Sadly, I wasn¡¯t able to really take advantage of that, apart from managing to not get killed. Which was, of course, pretty important. But the outcome of this fight seemed inevitable if it kept going like this - I could already feel my arm tremble slightly, and my reaction became more sluggish. I needed to end the fight quickly. Running out of time, I pulled my dagger with my left hand while sidestepping the next attack and tossed it with an underhanded throw at the face of the gar. Ordinarily, that was an almost useless attack given my lack of strength and pathetic left-hand dexterity, but the glittering dagger suddenly materializing out of the darkness, going straight for its face momentarily caused the gar to flinch back and focus on evading the surprise attack. And that was the opportunity I needed. I lunged forward and rammed my sword into the gut of the gar, causing it to double over in pain. It feebly clutched at the blade with its fingers, trying without real strength in his fingers to dislodge the weapon. But I wasn¡¯t having any of that and instead pushed the blade even further, straining against the tough flesh of my adversary. Once I was sure that the gar was out of the fight, I stepped back and quickly surveyed the battlefield. Just as I was looking, Betsy managed to stab the tip of the spear into the leg of one of the gars, making it lower its weapon as it flinched in pain. The perfect opportunity for Sue to finish the creature off. And indeed, she swung her ax with frightening speed at its head, only to swerve last second and instead cut a superficial wound across its chest. Shit. She got the jitters. Or perhaps some untimely bout of empathy. What was wrong with that girl? At least, Betsy didn¡¯t freeze and pulled her spear back, ready to stab again. And while the two girls were trying to bring down their opponent, Ben was dancing around the remaining gars, not making much progress in killing them but managing to keep their attention on trying to take him out. Intermittently, I heard the twang of Tom¡¯s bow as he tried to support Ben or the girls, but he obviously had a hard time finding a clear target. And Jimmy¡­ he still hadn¡¯t entered the fight. Just as I was about to shout angrily at him to get his butt into the action, he raised his hands, and I saw ice crystals shimmer into existence in the air in front of him. A split second later, I heard something that sounded like hundreds of little crystal chimes rushing past me, followed by a wave of freezing air. One of the gars going after Ben grunted in pain as its back was peppered by dozens of sharp icicles, causing blood to freely run down its skin. But it wasn¡¯t enough to take the gar out of the fight. And then it happened. Ben was momentarily distracted by the magic show and failed to notice the sword of the second gar until it was almost too late. In the last split-second, Ben managed to somehow twist his sword around to block the heavy blow, but the force and angle were such that his cheap showpiece-sword broke in the middle, and the strike continued to cut a deep wound across his right leg. With a shout of pain, Ben stumbled backward, and when his injured leg buckled under his weight, he went down in a heap. With a scream of rage mixed with panic, Sue jumped forward, slashing her ax horizontally at such speed that it disappeared in a silvery blur before hitting the gar in the middle of the back, cleanly cutting through its spine. But that left Betsy alone against the gar. And it was clear that she would need some help. Immediately, I moved closer, attempting to sneak up from behind and finish the gar before it noticed me coming. As I covered the few yards, the gar pressured Betsy with a series of powerful strikes of its ax, forcing her backward until she was with the back to the canyon wall. The panic in her eyes was obvious, as was her resolve to keep on fighting, to defend herself as best as she could. She raised her spear defiantly, daring the gar to come and finish her. But before that could happen, the tip of my sword pierced through its ragtag armor with the full force of my body behind. Which was just enough power to push the blade far enough to be lethal. The last gar still standing, bloodied by crystals and all, realized the overwhelming odds it was facing, turned around, and rushed off toward where they had come from. ¡°Tom, shoot him,¡± I shouted, worried that the gar might alert others of our presence. The twang of the bow was clearly audible, as was the pained grunt from the gar, but that didn¡¯t stop it from running, and soon it disappeared around the bend of the canyon. Chapter 41 – Weyrs ¡°Fuck,¡± I cursed, wondering how long we had until more gars would show up. How had the idyllic evening turned into such a shit-show in a heartbeat? And with Ben¡¯s leg injured, we¡¯d have trouble getting around the gar to make it back to Lake Placid. Unless I struck out by myself¡­ But no. I wasn¡¯t ready to give up the company of this group just yet. They seemed nice people and had been quite welcoming overall, Sue¡¯s ribbing notwithstanding, so I just felt it wasn¡¯t right to leave them to die. And I was almost positive that that is what would happen if I left them. It wasn¡¯t that I assumed that I was so much better than them at surviving, at beating the odds, even though I did have a history of doing just that¡­ No, more importantly, Sue, Betsy, and Jimmy didn¡¯t look like the type that would abandon Ben, and that would inevitably lead to them being run down by the gars. The only one I wasn¡¯t as sure about was Tom. A rather taciturn dude, with a perpetual frown on his face. Nice enough so far, but there hadn¡¯t been as many visible signs of affection or loyalty from him as from the others. So he might take off if things got too hot. If I wanted to save them¡­ then the first thing was probably to see how bad the injury of Ben was and then figure out if I could, perhaps, use amber mana to heal the wound. I had never used it on anyone else, but I figured that it should be possible. After all, Annie had done so on her very first try. Without wasting time, I approached Ben and kneeled down next to him. ¡°How are you doing, Ben?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been better,¡± Ben responded through clenched teeth. ¡°I have never really experienced pain like that.¡± ¡°Well, this is just a clean cut,¡± I chuckled. ¡°It shouldn¡¯t be too bad, no? ¡°What the fuck, dude? Not funny!¡± Ben cursed. Groaning, he continued: ¡°Damn gar. Shit. One fucking second. Had to get me like that. Damn, damn, damn. I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m really not feeling so well.¡± And indeed, Ben was getting chalk white in the face, which I frankly found somewhat humorous. If something like that had knocked me out, I would have never escaped the dungeon alive. Sue was standing on the other side of Ben, wringing her hands in distress. ¡°Fuck, fuck, fuck, c¡¯mon Ben. We need you.¡± As she was talking, her voice got shriller and shriller. ¡°Look at all that blood! We need to¡­ what do you do with that? A tourniquet? Fuck, I am gonna get some belt or something.¡± She rushed off, searching frantically for something suitable, which was my chance to see what I could actually do about that wound, without the distraction of her blabbing almost incoherently. The cut was bleeding profusely, so I had to hurry up if the threat of an army of gars descending on us wasn¡¯t motivation enough. Sue¡¯s idea about a tourniquet wasn¡¯t a bad one¡­ but I didn''t intend to just stop the bleeding and then leave it at that. I had amber mana after all. What I really needed was some type of cover that allowed me to work some healing without it being super obvious. Quickly, I pulled a shirt from my backpack and cut it into a couple of makeshift bandages. ¡°Alright, Ben, I¡¯m going to try and bandage this thing and hopefully that will make you feel better, alright?¡± As I wrapped the strips of fabric around his leg, I surreptitiously pulled amber mana from my core and pushed it into Ben¡¯s wounds, willing the muscles, veins, and arteries to reconnect but leaving a superficial cut on the deeper skin level. I wanted Ben to be able to walk just fine, but not grow too suspicious when his wounds suddenly disappeared. Was I too paranoid? Perhaps. But my experience had told me that it is usually better to be underestimated, and I certainly wasn¡¯t ready to share all my aces, especially my healing skills, with a group of mostly strangers, even though I liked them so far. It was easy enough to pull out the mana, but when it came to pushing it into Ben, it was as if I had to fight against a barrier, some layer of protection that prevented me from interfering with his body. Obviously, this was not something that I had ever encountered, but I supposed that it made sense to some degree. There had to be some natural resistance, a sacrosanct area inviolate or at least better protected against foreign influence. Otherwise, I could just put red mana insight the body of another human and fry their brains with minimal effort. While there was no particular reason why that shouldn¡¯t be possible, I would have thought that mana users, including monsters, would have figured that out long ago, making fights pretty pointless. I mean, even with water magic, you could otherwise just flood the brain or the lungs with water and white mana could put a bubble of air in one of the main arteries and kill the person very quickly like that. This wasn¡¯t proof of anything, obviously, but it nonetheless was a reasonable working hypothesis. In the end, it came back to intention. As I struggled to push my mana past the boundary into his flesh, I tried to harmonize it with the ebb and flow of energy in Ben¡¯s body. And then I provided the intent to help, to heal, to make things better. And that somehow flipped a switch, allowing my mana to freely enter Ben¡¯s body and flood his deep wound with a healthy dose or amber mana. I took my time with adjusting the bandages and making it look neat and tidy so that I could work my healing mojo¡­ neither too much nor too little, which turned out surprisingly tricky. But in the end, I thought I had achieved exactly what I wanted ¨C a long cut that was still bleeding freely, turning the bandages rust-red, but no significant damage to the muscle tissue underneath. When I raised my head, I realized with a start that Jimmy and the girls were standing around me, curiously, and with a fair degree of apprehension, watching what I was doing. I gave a brief nod to them as I got up from my knees. ¡°I think he should be fine to go in a few minutes. It looked worse than it actually is.¡± ¡°How do you know that much about wounds,¡± asked Betsy curiously. ¡°I thought you were a physics student¡­¡± Before I had to come up with a reasonable explanation, the howling started. ¡°Reaver dogs,¡± Jimmy cursed, lips pressed tightly together. ¡°We need to go. Now!¡± Ben scrambled to his feet, wincing in anticipation of the agony, only to look completely baffled when his wound didn¡¯t give him nearly as much trouble as he had expected. Meanwhile, the others milled around the campsite, trying to stuff their gear into their huge backpacks. At least Tom had used the time that I had spent on healing productively to retrieve his arrows and pilfer a couple of weapons from the dead gars. ¡°Move, move, move,¡± I cursed, trying to will everyone to get their act together and get out. ¡°We don¡¯t have time for your gear. Grab some water, a few snacks, and your weapons and let¡¯s go!¡± ¡°Shit, this tent cost me almost two grand, just a few weeks ago¡­,¡± Betsy complained but seemed to realize that however expensive her tent had been, it wasn¡¯t worth her life. Good thing too, because I had enough. ¡°I am leaving,¡± I said, before resolutely turning around and stepping into the meandering canyon. When Sue and I had hiked toward the camp, I had noticed a couple of spots where I thought it might be possible to scale the steep walls and get out. Which pretty much was my grand plan at this point. The canyon had become a death trap that we needed to escape. Granted, the reaver dogs were a huge headache, able to pick up our scent and track us¡­ but at least in the open country, we could move around, perhaps find a creek to mask our scent, or reach Lake Placid before they caught us. Anything was better than getting boxed in. After a few steps, I heard the noise of the others hurriedly catching up to me. Good for them. I had been afraid that they¡¯d let themselves be distracted by their material concerns or that they¡¯d fail to realize the urgency of the situation. Quietly, we rushed through the narrow gorge as fast as we could. In the moonlight, the canyon looked very different from just a few hours earlier, the diffuse light creating long deep shadows along the narrow passage, turning the warm colors of the day into a cold and distant dreamland during the night. In a different setting, I might have enjoyed the beauty of it, the wild, untamed nature¡­ but now every twist, every turn made me scowl, because it cost additional time, a resource we did not have. And then we finally came upon the first area I had remembered on our way in ¨C a place where the cliff had tumbled down some long time ago, changing the near-vertical walls of the canyon into a steep ramp, filled with loose rubble, tenuously stabilized by a few plants that had etched out their living on the bare rock over the years. One by one we arduously made our way up the steep incline. For every two steps forward, we slid back one, making the climb take a lot longer than I would have liked. And it was difficult, especially for me. Even Ben managed much better, grunting in pain occasionally, when he put too much pressure on his injured leg, but managing the climb just fine. For me¡­ it was a close call. The fight and subsequent rush through the canyon had taken a lot out of me, and the healing effort hadn¡¯t helped either. Even though it was just ¡®magic,¡¯ it did require intense focus and concentration, which had left me feeling somewhat drained afterward. When I teetered near the top of the ramp, Sue unceremoniously grabbed me and heaved me up, grunting a bit with the effort, but handling the weight just fine. Which was seriously impressive. How fucking strong was she? I mean, I was all skin and bones right now, but still. Together with my backpack, I had to weigh something like 150 pounds, maybe? That wasn¡¯t nothing. Initially, I had thought that she was all about speed since she had a white core. And speed could generate some serious kinetic energy, which explained, I thought, the smashed baseball bat and the lightning-fast speed of her ax. But apparently, it wasn¡¯t just that¡­ how many points had she invested in strength? She didn¡¯t look that strong, but apparently, spending points did not change the outward experience by quite as much¡­ according to what Ben had said, they mostly changed the composition rather than the size ¨C muscles grew denser, fast-twitch muscles improved, the number of neuron connections increased, and so forth. Which made an evaluation of the physical prowess of other people tricky business. Something I had to keep in mind moving forward. And while my fighting skills and camouflage ability were clearly superior to whatever the rest possessed, all of them were in way better physical shape than me; embarrassingly, that even included the injured Ben. I was already breathing heavily, arms and legs burning from the exhaustion, while the others had barely broken a sweat. So I should probably get off my high horse when thinking about survival. This was going to be a group effort. While I was still catching my breath, Tom pulled out a map that showed the area. After a moment, he pointed at a spot right between two hills about a couple of miles off the next road. ¡°We are right here. The gars are about here,¡± he continued while pointing at an area one and a half miles to the North from our current location. ¡°I propose to circle around Heart Lake, follow Indian Pass Brook and then take Lost Bridge Way back to Lake Placid. That should give us enough of a distance from the gars to sneak past them and get us to safety by the end of the day tomorrow.¡± ¡°What about Heart Lake Road?¡± Ben asked, staring with some consternation at the map. ¡°Your proposed route is going to take a lot longer.¡± ¡°That is true, but Heart Lake Road passes the gars too close for comfort,¡± Tom responded. Ben didn¡¯t look too convinced, but the next howl of the gars decided it, as it came from straight North. And not nearly from as far as I would have wished. We quickly made our way up the hill, heading West on the route proposed by Tom. And what followed was a nightmarish race through the darkness, sticking to asphalt roads where we could to speed up our movement, and then wading for hours through the cold water, following Indian Pass Brook, to mask our scent from the reaver dogs, for the off chance that this wasn¡¯t just another movie trope. The bright silvery moonlight cast spooky shadows over the wooded terrain, making me flinch from countless strange-looking shapes. This was made even worse by the rustling noise of the leaves caused by the light breeze, and the background noise of howling reaver dogs. Never before had I felt hunted for so long, felt paranoid about the slightest movement from the corner of my eyes. Just as we were about to enter a clearing, I noticed an odd insect sitting on one of the branches across the creek we were wading through. ¡°What the fuck is that?¡± I asked, partially because I was curious, but partly also because I really needed a break. I was winded. And the bug was huge, about four inches long, with silvery wings tilted forward, flush with its blue-silvery shimmering carapace. The rear-end looked a bit like a scorpion tail, with a stinger, only that it was not a smooth needle, but something with a spiral of grooves instead. It was beautiful in an alien way, but also looked¡­ dangerous. ¡°What did you spot, Daniel?¡± Jimmy whispered. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I responded while staring at the insect. ¡°I just have never seen an insect just like it.¡± ¡°An insect?¡± Sue muttered incredulously. ¡°The gars are getting closer, and you are talking about a damn insect? I can¡¯t f-¡±This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°Hush,¡± Jimmy whispered urgently. ¡°It is a weyr¡­ back off. Slowly. Don¡¯t startle it.¡± Jimmy¡¯s voice was tight with worry as he ever so carefully walked backward, not taking his eyes off the bug. ¡°It¡¯s just a big bug,¡± I said slowly. ¡°I could just squash it with my foot¡­ why are you so worried?¡± ¡°Just a big bug he is saying,¡± Sue muttered, backing off slowly while shaking her head in disbelief. ¡°Trust me, Daniel, you don¡¯t wanna mess with these¡­ and where there is one, there are usually another few hundred around.¡± A bit more worried now, I looked past the branch into the clearing, trying to make out movement in the moon-touched open. At first, I couldn¡¯t see anything out of the ordinary, just a wide-open, peaceful clearing, perhaps a couple of acres overall. But even with my enhanced night vision, I had trouble making out details - the usual crisp outline of the grass stalks and of the wildflowers so common in these areas was unusually fuzzy somehow and instead of standing tall, or swaying gently in the slight breeze, everything seemed deflated, pressed to the ground. And then I realized what I was seeing - thousands, no millions of bugs were covering the ground, unmoving as of yet, but ready to descend on any threat like a lethal swarm of locusts. A shudder ran down my spine, and I could almost feel the stare of millions of cold, emotionless insect eyes on me. ¡°Fuck, fuck, fuck,¡± I mumbled while carefully retreating. ¡°Those aren¡¯t just a few hundred bugs¡­¡± ¡°What did you see,¡± Jimmy asked quietly, keeping a worried eye onto the clearing. ¡°There are fucking millions of them!¡± Just then, Tom, who had scouted the area while we were stumbling along the creek, appeared out of the shadows between the trees. ¡°We need to get away quickly. A large group of gars with reaver dogs is coming this way. It seems like they might have found our trail. Move!¡° ¡°We can¡¯t go this way,¡± Ben said before Tom could rush ahead. ¡°There is a huge weyr swarm. We need to go back.¡± ¡°No time,¡± Tom cursed, scanning the area for a way out. ¡°Can we get around it? How big is it?¡± ¡°Too risky,¡± Ben immediately responded. ¡°Daniel thinks there are millions of them¡­ we need to get out of this valley.¡± ¡°Shit! Let¡¯s move then. If we are fast enough,¡± he glanced at me with a worried look, ¡°we might just make it before the gars get too close.¡± Just then, a reaver dog was howling, and it sounded a lot too close for comfort. With the snail-like speed at which I was moving, we were never going to make it. Swallowing hard, I raised my head. ¡°You guys run ahead. I am just slowing you down.¡± ¡°Hell no,¡± Sue growled. ¡°We are not leaving anyone behind. In the worst case, we fight those gars. We have done it once and we can do it again.¡± Tom shook his head. ¡°Not this time, Sue. There are at least twenty of them and reaver dogs. They will slaughter us.¡± ¡°There has to be a different solution,¡± Ben said, wringing his hands. ¡°We c-¡° ¡°It is alright, guys,¡± I interrupted. ¡°I can hide pretty well. I think my chances are a lot better that way.¡± I wasn¡¯t convinced that was entirely true since the reaver dogs could just smell me. But I didn¡¯t gain anything from having the others get killed and being alone gave me at least some flexibility. And just perhaps, the gars would follow the bigger group¡­ either way, it was the choice between certain death of being hunted down or a chance to survive, however slim it was. I just wish I had a few of those mushrooms from the dungeon with me. But if not that, could I perhaps¡­? ¡°Get moving!¡± I urged the others. I needed them all to be gone as fast as possible. ¡°Shit, Daniel, I¡­ if you make it out of this, come and see us in Lake Placid!¡± Ben briefly clasped my hand before turning away with an unhappy frown. Before I could come up with a good response, Tom slapped me on my back and murmured: ¡°Good luck!¡± and then moved quietly into the woods ahead. Sue, Betsy, and Jimmy mumbled similar words of encouragement, and with a few last pitying looks took off at a run. Clearly, they thought I was a dead man standing. That I was doomed, stuck between an anvil and a hammer. But I had other ideas. I crept closer to the clearing and then waited in the shadows for the gars to appear. Despite the imminent danger, the real possibility of dying a messy, horrible death just in a few moments, I felt the excitement bubble in my veins. This was life. Running away wasn¡¯t it, of that I was certain. I much preferred being the hunter than the hunted, the predator rather than the prey. I wanted to become the apex predator, powerful enough that even the monsters of this new world were going to be cowed. Until I achieved that, I was going to use my wits. When the first gars appeared from out of the darkness, holding the leashes of furiously growling reaver dogs in their massive fists, I made my move. With a shout, I tossed a fist-sized rock at the first gar, turned around, and dashed toward the clearing with the weyr swarm. For a moment, I thought that I had miscalculated, that somehow those bugs were not what the others had thought. I could hear the gars and reaver dogs closing in, breaking through the bushes in their pursuit of me. It was a matter of seconds before they would be on me. And then, finally, the weyr swarm began to move. At first, it was a sound like the humming of a massive bumblebee. But quickly, it turned into a deafening cacophony of humming and buzzing, that drowned out all other noise. All around me, gigantic bugs began to rise into the air and I frantically slashed my arms around to keep them away from my face. It felt like a nightmare, even worse than with the giant spider ¨C bugs were flying all around me highly agitated, with hard, chitinous bodies bumping into me from all sides. And then the first weyrs began to attack. I could see one bug shoot toward the closest reaver dog. In the last split second, it folded in its wings, turned around, and began to rotate at high speeds. And then it hit the scaled hound in the snout and its sharp rear began to drill into the flesh of the whimpering dog. A strike of the reaver dog''s clawed paw tore the insect apart, but already a dozen more were buzzing toward the suddenly scared creature. Not eager to share in its fate, I activated Midnight Skin to hide from the bugs. That was the plan anyway. Granted, not the best plan ever, but I gave it decent odds of succeeding. Heart hammering in my chest, I stood still, hoping that the insects would just ignore me, would just go after the prey they could clearly see. And indeed, a vast cloud of insects was swirling around, aggressively attacking the gars and reaver dogs on the clearing and in the trees beyond. And none was attacking me. Until the queen showed up. Or perhaps it was just a freaking giant mutation. Whatever it was, it looked the same as the other bugs, only that it wasn¡¯t. There was something about it, an aura, that none of the other bugs seemed to have. Looking at it made my legs tremble slightly, despite my best attempt to stay calm. Even just the sound of its wings was of a different quality. It was deep, like a powerful bass, reverberating through the air, almost shaking me physically. And it went unerringly toward me, multifaceted eyes glinting in the silver moonlight. It clearly was able to see me. And as it got closer, the behavior of the bugs around me changed - whereas before they were flying through the space I was occupying as if they didn¡¯t notice me at all, bumping into me like bugs would sometimes fly against windows, they suddenly¡­ stopped. Or rather, it was as if they were assessing. A sudden change in intelligence brought about by the queen? Or was it perception? Either way, it spelled trouble. Not ready to wait for the bugs to attack, I began to construct the same cloud of life drain as I had done once previously in the fight with Du¡¯Andrazzil and the goblins. If I couldn¡¯t hide, I¡¯d fight. It was hard to hold on to midnight skin, move away from the queen and build the spell simultaneously. But it had to be done. I could not stand still when the queen clearly was aware of me. And the life-draining cloud would take a while to construct. I wasn¡¯t fast, but at least I moved, and for a few moments, I was hopeful that I¡¯d have enough time. But then the queen suddenly shot toward me, and I desperately slashed at its body with my sword. The bug was fast, but my sword was faster. But it felt like I was hitting a rock, as my sword simply bounced off the massive layer of chitin of the three-foot-long body of the bug, not even chipping its carapace. At least, it slightly altered the trajectory of the huge weyr, so I was able to dodge the attack. And then, finally, my spell was online. A dome of black began to surround me, shot through with streaks of amber. The spell was an absolute mana hog, so I wasn¡¯t gonna be able to hold it for long. I figured I had about a minute, perhaps a bit more, before I¡¯d be out of mana. So I had to make that count. Immediately, the dark dome showed its power. In a two-yard radius around me, it started raining bugs. It didn¡¯t take long for them, only about a second a pop, to be drained of their life. Which was a good thing, because they began to attack me in earnest. Bugs shot toward me, drill turning at high speeds, and some managed to hit me, causing bloody wounds, before they would inevitably expire. Soon, there was a layer of insect bodies all around me, growing higher by the second. Hundreds of bugs died each second, but there were always more. It felt like a macabre dance, in which the bugs tried to get to me with single-minded determination, tried to drill into me and tear me apart, and even succeeded, as the rivers of blood streaming down my body gave testament to, only to fuel my regeneration with their very life. Or perhaps it wasn¡¯t a dance, but more of a yoyo effect, where the constant swarm of bugs brought down my life perilously, only to be denied their victory by the freakish rate of regeneration that fixed my skin and restored by blood just as quickly as they could harm it. I would have laughed if not for the pain. And there was still the queen, lurking at the outside of the range of my spell. She was waiting. Those glittering multi-faceted eyes seemed to be studying me, to analyze, all the while throwing away the lives of thousands of her children in that mindless and ultimately futile assault. We were at an impasse. At least as long as the queen didn¡¯t attack herself. But, frankly, I¡¯d almost rather that she did. Because if she just waited, I would eventually run out of mana, and then she could send her bugs in to tear me apart. The problem was that I wasn¡¯t powerful enough to pierce the queen¡¯s chitin armor. Just another indication that I needed to up my strength get some more ¡®oomph¡¯. Which left me woefully short of viable options right now. About fifteen seconds had already passed, which seemed just a moment in some sense, but also had felt like an eternity. I was losing a mana a second of both, amber and black mana, and silver at a slightly lower rate¡­ which meant that I needed to do something. I could run, but the weyrs were all too willing to branch out and follow their victims, as evident by the ongoing massacre of the gars and reaver dogs in the surrounding woods. Perhaps there was a limit to how far they were going to range¡­ but I couldn¡¯t rely on that. No, something needed to be done about the queen because if I took her out, I might be able to hide with my Midnight Skin... Which meant that I had to take the initiative. I grabbed my sword tightly and dashed toward the weyr queen, hoping to catch her by surprise. The bodies of countless bugs crunched under my feet as I made my way closer, waiting for the queen to make a move. But she didn¡¯t. She was just sitting there, staring at me. Or perhaps staring at the gars dying around us. I wasn¡¯t entirely sure. Bug eyes are not that obvious. Fucking creepy really. I didn¡¯t question my luck and smashed my sword right at her body. At the last moment, she suddenly moved backward, neatly evading my stroke. All I got for my effort was a blade covered in mud, as my sword hit the ground with a dull thud right where the queen had just been. The way the queen had backed away in the last second, seemingly knowing exactly when and where I was going to strike, reminded me of trying to catch a fly with my bare hand. But there is a strategy there¡­ one can predict the movement because flies will always do the same thing. And I bet the queen was doing the same. So I needed to hit not where she was, but where she was going to be. And I needed to make that hit count. Thirty-five seconds left. I drew red mana into the blade, pushing as hard as I could to speed things up. The red mana felt viscous, slow, pondering as it made its way into the sword. Why did this fucking take so long? All the while, dead weyrs were raining around me, pelting me with their stingers or hard bodies, doing their darnedest to distract me. But I blended it all out. The constant barrage of attacks, bleeding wounds, dead bugs became part of the background, white noise, something that I clearly noticed, but that ceased to be relevant. All my focus was on drawing red mana into the blade and catching the queen with the one shot I was going to have, while simultaneously keeping the dome of life-drain going. And then the blade began to glow in a deep red, the heat quite noticeable, even as I held the scorching hot weapon away from my body. I could feel a splitting headache setting in from pushing too hard, but what counted was that it was done. I wasn¡¯t sure it was going to be enough, but it was my only shot. If I couldn¡¯t hack through the creature¡¯s body, maybe I could melt the wings, or fuse some limbs with the heat emitted by the sword. A desperate measure for sure, but I didn¡¯t have much in terms of choice. Now I regretted that I hadn¡¯t tried to make a run for it. Maybe I would have had a better chance? Too late to worry about it. About ten seconds left. I needed to make my move. The weyr queen had edged back out of reach of my life drain and just stood there, almost like she was mocking me. She knew I was coming for her. And she fucking didn¡¯t care. Convinced in her invulnerability probably. Just on a hunch, I activated mana vision. Immediately, I could see a prodigious amount of yellow mana course through her body, a particularly large quantity accumulating at her antennae. That fucking bitch was just baiting me¡­ if I had earlier only suspected that the weyr queen was intelligent, I now was absolutely convinced. All that waiting was just a little trap, a fun ploy for a bored sapient insect. The moment I was gonna get close this time, she was going to electrocute me like a giant bug zapper in reverse. With no time left to reconsider, I decided to spring the trap and make things work somehow. In fact, it might just give me an out, where my situation had seemed hopeless¡­ As I got closer, little sparks began to fly between the antennae, and I could see the build-up of the deadly power. Any moment, she was going to let go and fry me to death. I needed to time this perfectly. The moment the mana began to rise out of the antennae, I lunged forward, sword stretched out as far as I could while drawing all my remaining silver mana down into my arm. I knew that it meant that my life-drain was going to stop, but I needed something to stop the lightning. And I had learned earlier, in the dungeon, that silver mana could neutralize magical power. So I was putting everything on this one bet. I coated my hand with the silver mana and touched the weyr queen right before the giant lightning exploded out of her antennae. And instead of racing into my body, rendering me a spasmodic, smoking ruin, the lightning hit the sword and coursed into everything that touched the metal. The force was such that it overpowered my silver mana barrier, causing my arm to cramp, and my body to shake. But the bulk of it, an amount of energy like from a high-voltage power line, went the path of least resistance¡­ which was along the glowing blade and straight into the body of the giant bug. The effect was spectacular. Lightning danced all over its carapace, shooting down its legs into the ground. Its eyes literally exploded into hundreds of little fragments, and smoke began to curl up from its fried chitin body. For a moment, there was quiet. The buzzing had completely died down. But then, it was as if a hurricane of noise slammed into my ears. Millions of bugs fell into a frenzy, attacking everything around them, including each other. And I was in the fucking middle of it. Immediately, I dropped myself to the ground, next to the burned body of the queen, and covered myself in Midnight Skin. I just had to survive somehow until the bugs calmed down. Maybe, I could then make my way out of this. Mostly, the weyrs ignored me, clearly unable to see me, and not smart enough to figure out that I had to be there. But some bounced into me by accident, and others seemed to somehow become aware of me through different senses, perhaps smell, or maybe they perceived my breathing, through the noise, or the moisture... But I was able to hack them to pieces or stomp on them before they could seriously wound me. Quasi-invisibility was a massive boon for that. And then, finally, the hubbub died down. The weyrs settled onto the ground, all around me, blanketing the area in a solid layer of bugs. Despite having killed maybe forty or fifty thousand of them, and another hundred thousand had died in the brief frenzy that had hit them after the death of the queen, it felt like that had been a drop in the bucket. Most of the weyrs were standing still, resting, or just doing whatever it is that bug might do if they don¡¯t move. But not too far from me, a few hundred of them were milling around, climbing on top of each other, burrowing down, or just wiggling their bodies in an ever-faster frequency. And more joined - soon it was a thousand or more weyrs. And then, somehow, they began to fuse. Instead of hundreds, no thousands of separate bodies, it became¡­ one. Shit! I had a bad feeling about this. Slowly, I pushed my way through the bugs, careful to not disturb them overly much and draw attention to myself. It was inevitable that I smushed a few under my foot, but since the other bugs couldn¡¯t see me, it didn¡¯t cause more than a stir. A good thing, too, because I seriously needed to get away. I had no idea what those bugs were doing there, but it surely wasn¡¯t anything good. My hunch was that this is how they formed their queens. And I sure as hell, didn¡¯t want to face another one. Plus, I was slowly running out of mana. I had already completely drained my silver, red, and amber mana reserves and was getting low on black mana as well. And once that happened, I was truly fucked. At least, I was able to make my way direction Lake Placid, not back to where the gars had come from. Small blessings. Chapter 42 – Campground ¡°Did you hear that?¡± Betsy whispered. ¡°The weyr swarm,¡± Jimmy responded with a grim expression on his face. ¡°It sounds huge.¡± For a moment, all five of them trudged along, heads slightly lowered. It was subconscious, a little remembrance for one of theirs. A new companion, only recently met and already lost. ¡°At least it was fast,¡± Ben finally said, without much conviction in his voice. ¡°Better the weyrs than the gars, I think.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Sue just asked, and everyone knew that it wasn¡¯t connected to Ben¡¯s statement. It wasn¡¯t asking about an explanation of why weyrs might be better than gars or vice versa. No, it was a general question, a philosophical one. Why indeed? Why was this new world so violent, so brutal? Not that earth didn¡¯t have its share of atrocities, but this was a nice, remote little area in the US that hardly ever saw violence, beyond a brawl in a bar, or perhaps a hunting accident. But there was no good answer. Tom just grunted and shrugged his shoulders, before motioning the others to pick up their pace. They weren¡¯t out of this. Not by a long shot. If the weyr swarm was moving this way, they were dead. Another gar patrol would do the trick as well. And then there were monsters prowling the night. They had to stay focused. --------------------------------------------------- I only had mana left for another minute or so of midnight skin. And I needed to cover another hundred feet. Too far to remain cautious. I needed to pick it up a notch. I lengthened my stride, not worrying too much any longer about disturbing the weyrs. If I was inside the swarm by the time I¡¯d run out of black mana, I was done for anyway. I just had to deal with whatever disturbances I caused when it came to it. Every time I took another step, the crunching noise of my worn-out sneakers on the weyr and the squishing sound of their inerts being squeezed out of their cracked chitin armor made me wince. But, somehow, the weyrs seemed distracted - the way they had repositioned themselves, all of them turned toward where that freaky mutation took place, the complete lack of movement, apart from the quiet humming of their wings, which slowly rose in intensity. And then their tails began to wiggle, rhythmically, first slowly, then ever faster, perfectly synchronized so that every pair of weyrs beat their tails against each other. I hadn¡¯t thought that things could get even freakier, but they did. Was this a dance? Some mating ritual? Or a fucking magic ritual? My bet was on the last one because I could feel something in the air, a static tension that began to raise the hair on my arms and legs and caused my skin to tingle uncomfortably. Add to that the rhythmic sound of a million tails of chitin slapping against each other multiple times a second, and you got a nice background for a horror bug movie. And it was loud, getting louder by the second, almost deafening already. If cicadas can get noisy, it wasn¡¯t hard to see where this was going with a hundred thousand times the number of bugs. And each one of them huge. Sometimes I am slow in understanding stuff, but this time the signs were pretty clear to me¡­ I was legging it. I didn¡¯t care any longer about the Midnight Skin or any other camouflage or protection. I just wanted to get out of there as fast as I could. Sprinting through a field covered in up to four inches of bugs, in the middle of the night, with only moonlight to illuminate the area was not high on my list of most-favorite things to do. It was just praying that I didn¡¯t trip and faceplant into the bugs. At least, the weyrs entirely and utterly ignored me. I was almost tempted to make a bushfire and just burn the whole lot of them while they were distracted, but I realized that I shouldn¡¯t tempt fate. Also, the grass was kinda wet, so I didn¡¯t think I¡¯d have any luck with starting a fire anyway. So I just sprinted as fast and as far as I could. Which admittedly was neither far nor fast. But at least I got some distance between myself and the freakish weyr swarm. Much too soon, I needed a breather, as my side was hurting like a bitch, and I was desperately gasping for air. I pushed on for another few steps, more stumbling than running before I leaned against the trunk of a tree to regain some strength. Afraid of what I would see but not able to resist, I looked back at the weyr swarm, and the sight made my heart stand still for a second. Where I had been just a few seconds earlier, a giant milky-white dome had risen, completely engulfing the clearing and everything within. Lightning was arching through the cloudy atmosphere, and the smell of ozone was clearly noticeable even from where I was at. The message was clear¡­ I needed to get the fuck away from this. Forcing my overtaxed muscles to move, I shuffled further away, trying to gain some distance. How fucked up was that? First, a giant tribe of gars with those ghastly reaver dogs as their pet hounds decided to camp out around Algonquin Mountain. Then a big-ass swarm of giant insects conducts magic rituals to create an uber bug, or perhaps more than one. Or maybe they summoned an insect god. What the fuck did I know? This was just way over my head. But at least I had just killed, directly or indirectly, about a hundred fifty thousand of the bugs. That felt pretty good, even though I¡¯d hardly made a dent in their numbers. I wondered how much mana I had received from that¡­ But it wasn¡¯t time yet to take stock of my personal gains. There was an opportunity for that later when I was somewhere safe. Or at least somewhere safer. I stumbled on, prioritizing haste over stealth. Soon the clearing was entirely out of sight, as was the dome of pale light. Apart from the faint sheen visible from a distance. And, of course, the strobe light caused by the lightning, like a disco ball, that illuminated everything around me faintly multiple times each second. Which didn¡¯t make walking any easier. But a few minutes later, the light suddenly stopped, and everything was doused in darkness and the soft silver light of the moon as if nothing had ever happened. And it was quiet. Quieter than when I had walked with the others ¨C no breaking twigs, heavy breathing, muttered curses, or the squelching of soaked boots in the mud of the river bed. Now¡­ it was almost eerily silent. And open, exposed. The dungeon had been different. Worse in some ways, but also more confined. There were walls around me, hallways, apparent sources of danger. Predictable in some way. Here¡­ it was nature, wild and raw. I thought about stopping, but I didn¡¯t feel safe. I needed a place to hide, perhaps a car or some random abandoned house somewhere. Something with walls that gave me, at least, the illusion of safety. A few years back, I had been backpacking in the wilderness a couple of times. Back then, it had felt exciting, a bit nervewracking too, but the worst my imagination had conjured back then was a black bear going through my backpack. Now that was almost laughable. Who cared about a black bear? While I still wouldn¡¯t necessarily wrestle with one, I¡¯d chase it off quickly enough with a sword or some magic effect. No, now I was worried about mutated black bears, or gars, or giant spiders, and mega bugs. Things that wouldn¡¯t care about the trail mix in my backpack, but instead were after me. I definitely needed a place to hide in. So I kept putting one foot in front of the other, making my way toward Lake Placid. Or at least I hoped that I was going there. Keeping track of directions in the darkness wasn¡¯t exactly easy. Eventually, the morning sun chased away the darkness, only to disappear in a dense fog that was covering the ground in a suffocating blanket. It dampened the sounds, which should have made me feel safer, but ended up doing just the opposite. I feared that any minute I might run into a gar-patrol without even knowing it, or the weyr swarm would descend on me like a vengeful god. When I finally hit Lost Bridge Way, I was drenched in sweat and could barely move any longer. The constant worry and physical exertion had taken its toll. So the sight of a campground with RVs was about the best view I could have hoped for. There weren¡¯t any fancy campers, with the latest gadgets and whatnot¡­ but reliable, traditional, American brands. Right at the edge to Lost Bridge Way was a Thor Freedom Elite, something my parents had used for a couple of years back when camping was still part of what they enjoyed doing. With a pang, I remembered those days when we still had been a little happy family. Kind of happy. I had resented being dragged to all those activities with my parents¡­ it just wasn¡¯t very cool. But thinking back, I mostly had fond memories. Especially in hindsight, because the next four years, with me in the wheelchair, had been less kind to me. My parents had done their best. But the constant struggle, the self-blame, however stupid it was, and the disagreements on how to handle things had put some friction into their relationship. Something that hadn¡¯t been the case earlier. Or at least I hadn¡¯t been aware of it. I missed my parents. And I hoped that they were coping well with my disappearance. Knowing my father, he would get drunk a few more times than usual. Perhaps start smoking again. He had done that for a few months after my accident. My mother¡­ she might engage in some shopping therapy. And start helping at the community center, soup kitchens and such. Mostly to distract herself. Or to show god that he was wrong taking away her darling, that she deserved better. She was weird like that. She had done that the last time, right after it became clear that I was going to be disabled permanently. I had told them that it had been my own fault, that I had been a bloody idiot, that there was nothing that they could have done differently. But I guess that is what being a parent is like¡­ you can¡¯t help it. Granted, there are good parents, and there are bad parents, some take the blame on themselves, others micromanage everything, and some¡­ well, some just don¡¯t take part in their children¡¯s life. My parents hadn¡¯t been like that. After the accident, things had changed a bit. I think my parents couldn¡¯t stand seeing me in the wheelchair. It made them think about their own failures, their shortcomings, or something. So they poured money at the problem - hired caretakers, send me on trips, got me back into college, and bought whatever support I needed there. And they even joined occasionally, like they were going to do in Lake Placid. But I had always felt that it was a bit more an alibi, something that allowed them to think that they were still really close to me, good parents, and all. But despite my misgivings on how they had handled some things, I still loved them. And I wasn¡¯t going to see them again. Feeling sad, I trudged slowly toward the Thor Freedom Elite. I needed to rest and recover some mana, and that camper just looked perfect for that, despite the bittersweet memories it conjured. Some of the other RVs on the campground showed signs of struggle, with windows broken, doors or siding ripped out, and shredded clothing, but the Thor seemed to be untouched. It turned out that the camper was locked, but one of the windows had been partially open, so it was easy enough to get inside. Some water had come in through the opening, soaking the small red curtain, with its little flower pattern and the ugly cream-colored seat next to it, but otherwise, the camper looked relatively clean and comfortable. It was tidy, with only a few clothes here and there, and an unwashed coffee mug on the little table. Based on the less-than-fashionable cream and grey-colored garments, with their diamond pattern in red stitching, someone older had been living here and probably hadn¡¯t made it through the transition. Pictures on the walls showed little children, perhaps their grandkids, and a brown-tinged wedding picture from the 40ies or 50ies, showing a short, pretty woman with a Bouffant hairstyle and a sharp-looking man with a military cut. They looked like friendly people, and I felt terrible for just snooping through their stuff and making myself at home. But it was a decent place to stay, and I couldn¡¯t afford running around, searching for another hour for another camper that was more suitable. For that matter¡­ everything here had been owned by someone, had a story to tell about a sad fate. And the fact was, no corpses, no stink of decaying and rotting flesh, no spoiled food, grimy floors, and beds was a win in my book. And the locked door was a big plus. Of course, monsters could make their way in through the windows or force their way through the metal siding of the walls if they were powerful enough¡­ but that was just something I¡¯d have to deal with if it was to happen. Resting wasn¡¯t optional after all, and this was about as good as it got in the middle of a damn hiking area. I dragged myself to the queen bed at the rear, and almost immediately passed out on the unbelievably comfortable mattress. A few hours later, I woke up, more well-rested than at any time in recent memory. Funny how a comfy bed and perceived, or imagined, safety, changed the quality of rest. After munching on some trail mix and a couple of cans of beans and corn I had found inside the little kitchen cabinet of the trailer, I opened my character sheet to finally investigate my gains from the last couple of days.
Name Daniel Hollander Rank Initiate 7
Title: Mental Bastion; First Initiate; Army of One; Against the Mighty II; Transformer; Droghul¡¯s Disciple
Strength: 7.5 [+1] Intuitive Reasoning: 15 Mana Free Current Potential
Agility: 8 [+1] Complex Reasoning: 17 Silver 0 24 70
Speed: 6 [+1] Emotional Intelligence: 9 Black 0 24 125
Dexterity: 7 [+1] Perception: 14 Amber 0 24 81
Endurance: 9 [+2] Spatial Awareness: 21 Red 7 [+7] 10 10
Vitality: 8.4 [+2] Willpower: 21 Purple 11 0 0
Yellow 528 [+528] 0 0
Green 9 [+9] 0 0
Grey 5 [+5] 0 0
Blue 21 [+21] 0 0
Available characteristic points: 26
Spells
Mana Vision Level 14 [+1] Twilight Vision Level 2 [+1]
Minor Healing Level 10 [+1] Shadow Skin Level 5 [+1]
Shadow Sense Level 1 Midnight Skin Level 3 [+2]
Partial Incorporeality Level 2 Aura of Droghul Level 3 [+3]
Higrom¡¯s Touch Level 3 [+3]
Available spell points: 22
Skills
Mental Ward Level 8 Mental FortitudeThis book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. Level 12
Multitasking Level 6 [+2] Internal Mana Manipulation Level 8
Meditation Level 6 External Mana Manipulation Level 4 [+2]
Enhanced Mana Recovery Level 2 Sword Fighting Level 10
Available skill points: 10
That was a lot of stuff to take in¡­ First off, I had earned another title. Unable to restrain myself, I immediately focused on the name, trying to learn more about its impact.
Droghul¡¯s Disciple: Not even an apprentice yet, you have suffered more than a thousand attacks in a single fight that should have killed you more than fifty times over, but you survived. Moreover, every creature attacking you has died, feeding your recovery. You are following in the footsteps of giants. From now on, every time you kill a creature, you gain a small part of its lifeforce to heal yourself.
Damn, that was awesome. Just like my life-drain spell, but without being a spell. Well, not quite as good, as it didn¡¯t do any damage, but it would either allow me to double-dip on the life-drain or focus on other things while still being able to slowly heal myself. And it wouldn¡¯t kill my allies, which definitely was an advantage. Of course, there was no mention of how much exactly I would gain for each kill, but any amount was better than none and would be hugely helpful in drawn-out fights. So now I only have to increase my endurance and vitality, get some type of real armor, and I¡¯d be a tank. Well, I needed to work on my offense as well, but still. I did have a huge number of stats points to spend once I had some rest and food, so I was sure that I could get myself a good deal more powerful in no time flat. The only pity was that it was not particularly synergistic with my stealth skills. But that only meant that I wasn¡¯t going to be a one-trick pony for much longer. As much as I liked the idea of being the reaper from the shadows¡­ there was something about running into melee and laying about with a sword or ax. Just a different type of adrenalin kick. So how about the rest of the changes¡­? The big one was the 528 yellow mana I had gained in addition to a smattering in other colors. That was a huge amount. At the same time¡­ I had killed about forty or fifty thousand of the damn bugs and their queen. That translated into¡­ well, about one mana for every one hundred weyrs, if the queen was perhaps worth twenty-eight mana. And that seemed like a pretty small amount given how dangerous they were. Certainly, I¡¯d much rather face any day a single goblin than a swarm of one hundred weyrs. But that reminded me of the time I had killed that vast number of goblins¡­ or, before, several bats in a row. There seemed to be some type of algorithm that determined the amount of mana one was going to get from a kill¡­a combination of levels, compared to the monster, and¡­ how many I had already killed? So, without a calculator or a computer, this was tough¡­ but like one divided by the count that I had already killed? Or the natural logarithm of the number already killed? Something in between probably. The math was just beyond me in my head, or even on a piece of paper. Ultimately, it didn¡¯t matter. It just meant that I couldn¡¯t just go out and ¡®farm¡¯ goblins or weyrs to grind levels. Then again, 528 mana was already plenty of power leveling. In fact, I needed to figure out what to do with the mana. It was tempting to hope for a yellow core at some point, and then just blast through the levels¡­ but there was no guarantee that I was going to get that any time soon, and I really needed to increase my red mana count to at least equal the others. And, frankly, I just needed more mana that I could use in general, especially with mana intensive spells like the Aura of Droghul. So as much as I wanted to hoard my mana, I had to make sure that I was going to survive first. And the more powerful I got, the faster I could harvest additional mana. A giant fireball into the middle of the weyr swarm might have killed fifty thousand in one go¡­ That last thought clinched it. Not that I had any fucking clue on how to cast a fireball. But I was sure I could figure it out with some practice, or perhaps some guidance from this Chad and his group. I wasn¡¯t sure yet whether I was going to introduce myself to them, but that was something to decide later anyway. For now¡­ I decided to transform my yellow mana and the other extraneous colors into the types that I actually needed. At first, I had no idea how to actually do that. I mean, there is no magic keyword that I could shout, or at least I didn¡¯t know of any. So it came down to trial and error. After a few unsuccessful tries, I finally figured out that all I had to do was visualize the particular mana type I wanted to transform and will it into a different kind. It wasn¡¯t quite as easy as that, as the visualization process proved to be somewhat involved, but eventually, I figured it out. And now to the numbers¡­ I grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil and scribbled down the math to see what I was working with. I had a grand total of 574 floating mana. And now my transformer title was finally going to shine. At a rate of 5 to 1, I could get a total of 114 mana of any color I wanted. After incorporating the free-floating red mana, I¡¯d be at seventeen red mana. Currently, my lowest mana count outside of red was silver mana at seventy. So, first, I needed to lift red mana to at least that level and then spread it evenly between those two. Seventy minus seventeen was fifty-three, which left me with additional sixty-one mana to distribute. Eleven each into silver and red mana, got them to the level of amber mana, at eighty-one, and I had another thirty-nine left. Split three ways, that was thirteen mana each. That was looking good. The only thing¡­ I wanted more! That was the greedy little gamer inside of me. Of course, the math was just that. I still needed to do it. And, to boot, I needed to recover all the mana that I had spent yesterday. One downside of having that much magical energy was that recovering it took longer and longer. I had no idea how someone with thousands of mana, if such a person existed, was even able to use that much without spending all their time sitting around meditating. But perhaps that was precisely what they were doing¡­ Even using enhanced mana recovery, I was sitting there for a long time, only taking a break in between to eat and piss and for a brief nap in the later afternoon. By the evening, I had finally gotten it all sorted out. Of course, now the sun was slowly setting, and I wasn¡¯t keen on taking another hike in the dark. Maybe I should have done all of this in Lake Placid instead? But there was no telling what kind of dangers I might have encountered on the road. And this little tin can of a camper felt good. Hot, yes, even stifling. But also secluded, safe. And after all these days and nights living it rough, I cherished the quiet time, the ability to finally sort things out, and figure where I was at. Which reminded me¡­ I still had that sack with the runes on it and those two rings. Now was as good a time as any to figure out what was up with those. I pulled out the sack from the bottom of my backpack, and while I was at it also my last set of fresh clothes, ill-fitting as they were. Those weyr attacks had literally riddled my last shirt with holes, and everything was stiff with dried blood - the sheer quantity of blood that had soaked into those rags was mind-boggling. The sack was obviously high quality, made out of a smooth, luxurious fabric that felt extremely tough, yet pleasingly warm and soft to the touch. Thoughtfully, I turned it over in my hands, studying the runes to see if I could gain any insights into what they were all about. Of course, without any success. It was just like a reading Chinese for me - a bunch of fancy symbols that meant diddly squat to me. Shaking the sack didn¡¯t provide any clue to content or magical features, and neither did weight. In fact, it felt light enough to be empty. But to be sure, I needed to check inside. The question was¡­ should I put my hand in and see what was in there? Ordinarily, I would have said yes, I mean, why not? After all, it was a sack that had been used by someone, even if that someone had been a goblin. So it was unlikely to be trapped. But it was magical, and so I was a bit leery of risking my fingers. In the end, I took a ladle, loosened the drawstrings, and poked the wooden handle into the opening of the sack. Nothing happened. Like at all. I don¡¯t know what I had expected, but it was more than that. I moved the handle around a bit, to the left, then right, poking for something in there, be that a trap or some items. But nothing. And then I noticed that I had pushed the ladle in all the way, even though the sack was only about six or seven inches tall. And the handle of the dipper was surely longer than that. Just to be sure, I pulled out the wooden spoon and held it next to the sack. And indeed, it was longer than the sack was tall. What the fuck? Unless¡­ a bag of holding? I mean, every other fantasy story had one of those, sometimes as ordinary items, sometimes as unique magical artifacts. I had no idea what it would be here, but I also didn¡¯t give a damn. Either way, a bag of holding would be pure, fucking, gold. And if it was¡­ how did it work? I mean, obviously some spatial magic, which I would really like to get my hands on. But, on a more practical level, how do you use one of those? Do you just toss stuff in? The ladle had not been sucked in, so it wasn¡¯t as if there was a cone of magic power that suddenly pulled stuff inside. Thank goodness, because then I would have been apprehensive about holding my hand above it. So¡­ did I have to push in items all the way and then let go? No time like the present to try. I pushed the ladle in until the top of it was just barely visible, and then I let go. The wooden spoon just stood there, a tiny sliver of it visible above the opening of the sack. Alright, so just releasing it would not make it disappear, at least as long as it wasn¡¯t all the way in. And when I grabbed it, the ladle came out without any trouble, which was somewhat reassuring. Next, I tried with putting my fingers inside just a tiny bit. I figured that if something was to happen to my fingertips, it wouldn¡¯t be the end of the world, given my healing ability. But instead of searing pain or just the feel of the wooden ladle, the moment my fingers actually entered into the interior of the sack, I could suddenly feel an open space filled with¡­ stuff. I couldn¡¯t exactly see things, but somehow I was aware of things. It was as if I could just stretch my fingers, with only a thought, and touch everything that was inside the space, turn it, move it, and pull it. With a feeling of wonder, I let my senses move through the space and inspect everything that was in there. The first thing I noticed was a pile of gold and silver coins, each shimmering in a pale light. There had to be a few hundred of them, based on a rough estimation. Curious, I tried to pull one of them toward me, and suddenly I could feel the edge of a hard metal coin dig into the palm of my hand. With a small yelp of surprise, I let go of the ladle, closed my first, and pulled my hand out of the sack. And there it was, a coin with smooth, sharp edges, as if straight out of mint, shimmering with a dim light that was hard to make out in the waning daylight, but still noticeable. When I looked closer with my Mana Vision, I could see a tiny blob of mana, circulating slowly inside of the coin, within a circle of runes that seemed to prevent the mana from dissipating. As I held the coin, I could almost feel the mana ¨C a warm, potent energy just at the tips of my fingers. Curious to see what would happen, I pulled. And as I did so, the energy from the coin slowly flowed into my hand and melted together with the rest of my mana, only to leave a dull piece of metal in my hand, that almost felt flaky and ready to crumble. That was incredible. A mana battery? Or perhaps truly valuable money that had extrinsic value in what really mattered in this new world ¨C magical power? But who would put mana into a coin? That seemed¡­ a huge sacrifice. Unless there was something that I did not know, which seemed a likely scenario. Or maybe this wasn¡¯t ordinary money and, instead, a real and unique treasure¡­ My excitement abated a bit when I noticed that the mana I had received didn¡¯t even register in my overall mana count. I was sure there had been an impact, but probably it was just too little to be noticeable. In which case, I might be better off holding on to the gold coins for now and see what they could be used for. Putting the depleted coin to the side, I reached back into the sack to investigate what else I might be able to find in there. First, I noticed a bunch of stones of various sizes and colors. After a moment of excitement, thinking that these might be gemstones or somesuch, I realized that they were just ordinary rocks one might find anywhere in the dungeon, or at least at one of the caved-in places. There were also lots of random little knickknack things, like wooden toys, some rotten wooden planks, rusted kitchen utensils, and the odd few pieces of bat meat, mushrooms, and dungeon-fruits. Interestingly, all the edibles were in perfect condition, not spoiled at all, and the meat even was warm to the touch. So there was some preservation effect going on, which might turn out to be incredibly useful. Beyond that¡­ there really wasn¡¯t all that much in there. A whole bunch of swords, spears, and daggers, all of them of inferior quality the way they looked like. Certainly not something that could compete with the weapons I currently possessed. But it might be useful for equipping people in Lake Placid. If the weapons of Sue and her group before taking the stuff from the dead gars were any indication, this kind of equipment was sorely needed. Overall, I was a tad disappointed after the initial excitement. When I had realized what I was dealing with, I had hoped for a secret hoard of treasure, magical artifacts, or perhaps some books that could teach me how to do magic. Instead, I got a bunch of rubble, some crappy weapons, and, well, admittedly, there was a pile of coins with mana. So maybe that was still a pretty good haul. And a bag of holding was seriously awesome no matter how you spun it. I wondered how much I could fit in there¡­ suddenly curious, I dumped everything out on the ground in front of the camper, went to the little pond next to the campground, and submerged the sack, waiting for it to fill up. It ended up taking quite a while because the opening of the sack was only so wide, but finally, it was full. I then strolled over to a big plastic garbage bin, emptied it on the ground, and began to fill it with water. I estimated the bin to be about a cubic yard and managed to fill it about ten times¡­ ten cubic yards or about 270 cubic feet. That was some serious size, especially given that the space seemed to be flexible in its dimension, so I did not have to worry about fitting things neatly together. I could just dump stuff in there and not worry about it. And the weight was basically zero. Which was huge. Suddenly conscious that I was standing around in the open, experimenting with water and a sack and not paying any attention at all to my surrounding, I quickly scuttled back to the camper and my weapons and threw everything that I wanted to keep from the pile of stuff back into the sack. One last issue was¡­ how about bigger items. Somehow, people in those books I had been reading had always been able to just throw things in there, like shields, armor, chairs, tables, and so forth. I eyed the small opening of the sack dubiously but decided to give it a shot. Using one of the camping chairs as the experimental object, I tried fitting it into the opening of the sack. One of the legs went in just fine, but I didn¡¯t get much further than that. No magic suction force. Nothing. Just a good-ole camping chair awkwardly stuck on top of a sack. Well, that wasn¡¯t going anywhere. So as long as I wasn¡¯t widening the opening to the sack, which, for sure, I wouldn¡¯t risk doing, this was it. I shrugged my shoulders and attached the sack tightly to my belt, before pulling out the two rings. They looked artsy, with their twisted metal shining brightly in the last rays of the evening sun. Runes were inserted in a continuous sequence, but I couldn¡¯t make heads or tails of them. One looked remotely similar to one of the runes in the throne-room, but that was about it. Not particularly helpful. I traced the metal with my finger, hoping against reason that touching the metal would give me some insight, some idea on what kind of magic those rings had. Or course, nothing happened. Should I slide it on? What about cursed rings? Was there such a thing? So far, I had not encountered anything that I would have considered ¡®good¡¯ or ¡®evil¡¯ per se. Just like weapons weren¡¯t evil¡­ they were only tools, and what mattered was how you used them. But, as usual, I had no fucking clue. After all, I had been at it for a bit more than a week¡­ so I certainly wasn¡¯t an expert on what was or wasn¡¯t possible. Perhaps the type of mana would give me some idea of its effects? I activated Mana Vision and saw that one of the rings was filled with grey mana, slowly circulating through the twisted bands comprising the ring. The other ring looked a lot more spectacular, with white, yellow, red, green, turquoise, purple, and black mana churning around each other with evident potency. It was a beautiful sight, and it looked¡­ somewhat familiar. I had seen this before, or rather something similar to this¡­ The portal! Which meant that this was¡­ what? Some spatial magic? Speaking of, if this indeed was spatial magic, then the bag of holding had to have those mana types as well. Curious, I checked, and indeed, all the same mana types were present, with grey mana besides. So it was a pretty safe bet that this ring was somehow connected to some dimensional effect. The only question was¡­ what? If we excluded the possibility of a ring as a trap or bait, then it had to be something useful. So it wasn¡¯t going to suck the owner into a dimensional trap or something. At least, I didn¡¯t think it would¡­ why go into all that trouble? There were easier ways to kill or capture someone. So, if not that¡­ then either it would open some dimensional space, or it would be some teleportation or portal type of effect. Since there was no grey mana, I bet on the latter. Should I risk it? I hesitated for a moment, studying the ring again, looking for any type of clue. I just didn¡¯t think it would be something dangerous. But just in case, I used the same ladle as earlier, my new high-tech instrument for experimenting, and stuck the ring on the wooden handle. It just sat there, sliding up and down, as I shifted the angle of the handle. No searing flames, no splintering of the wood, or sudden disappearance of a portion of it. There were times to be paranoid, but one could overdo it. Resolutely, I slid the ring onto my ring finger and waited for something to happen. Alas, nothing changed at all. Interestingly, though, the ring fitted me perfectly, as if it had been custom designed for me. So, what now? Perhaps I needed to provide intent? That seemed to be a common theme with mana. I looked around and decided to teleport just a few steps away onto the asphalt road ¨C a clear open space, with nothing to kill me if I teleported into it. I looked at the spot and willed myself to be there. Nothing. I could feel the mana in the ring brushing against the edge of my awareness. It was there, a featherlight touch. Not something I could take for myself, I was sure¡­ but perhaps something I could nudge. Slightly jittery with excitement, I pushed the mana, and I could feel something move inside of the ring. There was a flow of power, a potency building. And then, suddenly, the power contained in the metal band demanded release, demanded to be channeled. The pressure was rising, a giant wave of wild, untamed force pushing to be formed, guided. But despite the potency, it didn¡¯t feel dangerous. It wasn¡¯t threatening to overwhelm me, or subjugate me somehow. And I did not feel as if the next moment I was going to be sucked into a different dimension¡­ it was more like feeling a giant machine with 5k horsepower at my command, ready to do my bidding. Unbridled power at my fingertips. For a moment, I was lost on what to do next, but then I remembered about intent. I directed my gaze toward the spot on the road that I had made out previously and willed myself there. And suddenly, I felt everything become blurry to a split second, and the next instance, I was standing on top of the asphalt, just where I had wanted to go. And I felt like shit - bile was rising in my throat, and I was retching uncontrollably as my body tried to adjust to the sudden shift in perspective and location. It took me a full minute of heaving before my stomach finally calmed down. But then I was sitting there, on the warm surface of the road, smiling at the incredible feeling of just having teleported my skinny ass from the camper onto a road that was at least ten yards away. Not exactly world-shattering as a distance, but oh the potential¡­ If I could control that feeling of nausea, I could blink across a battlefield and just stab monsters out of nowhere, only to teleport away in an instant, deftly evading their retaliation. Sighing, I realized that it just meant that I had to teleport often enough to desensitize myself¡­ After a moment of hesitation, I set my sight on another patch of the road just a few yards off and focused my will on the ring. Nothing. What the fuck? I took off the ring to inspect if anything had changed. At first, I didn¡¯t notice anything - the runes were still there, and the metal had not been altered in any obvious way. But then I realized that the ring was utterly devoid of mana. Well, so much for that plan of blinking around and backstabbing my opponents¡­ the question now was how long the recharge would take. Or was it a one-time use? That would be seriously deflating. I activated Mana Vision once more and carefully observed the ring and the mana streams around it. The chaotic fluctuations right around the metal made it hard to see details, but I got the impression that there was some mana trickling into the ring. So not all hope was lost. But at the glacial speed of mana recovery, and given the sheer quantity of mana needed to teleport, it would, likely, require several days of mana recovery at the very least. Still, it was a remarkable artifact that could get me out of tight spots. But I¡¯d have to put a lot of thought into when and where to use it. Turning to the other ring, I narrowed my eyes in focus as I went through the runes and the mana churning inside. Grey mana¡­ so something that had to do with stone or metal, perhaps. A shield of sorts? Or maybe a type of armor? Or perhaps it would transform into a blade? Or, maybe, it would give me a sense to feel metal? Or¡­ the options were endless. I just had no good way of predicting the effect. Just as before, I thought the chance was really high that it would be something beneficial. There was some risk, yes, but there was also a risk of not experimenting, not learning about the effect of magical items I possessed ¨C they could well save my life if I knew what to do with them. After doing another ladle test without any adverse effect, I slid on the ring without further second-guessing myself. I can¡¯t claim that I wasn¡¯t apprehensive. Tempting luck twice in a row sure did make me nervous. But I was still convinced that it was the right course of action. The ring fitted my ring finger perfectly, even though it had seemed a lot bigger than even the teleportation ring. As before, nothing else happened. Only now did I realize that I had been holding my breath. ¡°Alright, Daniel, let¡¯s do this,¡± I murmured and pushed the mana of the ring into the runes. And there it was again, the potency, the pressure of mana, waiting to be released. Much less pronounced than with the teleportation ring, but quite noticeable nonetheless. One by one, I went through the applications I had thought about, trying to imprint my intent onto the mana to guide the release of the pent-up energy. The moment I thought about armor, about being physically protected, I felt a tingling sensation as energy rushed out of the ring. Heart pounding, I waited for something to happen. Alas, there was nothing. No armor popped up around me; no shield appeared in from of me¡­ nada. Confused, I poked the air around me, to see if there was perhaps a transparent screen or something, which was when I noticed that my skin had taken on a greyish tinge. What the heck? I held my hand in front of my eyes, studying the change that had overcome my skin. I wasn¡¯t quite freaked out. Yet. Presumably, this was part of the effect of the ring¡­ and it wasn¡¯t going to be permanent. Right? With Mana Vision, I could see a current of grey mana course through my skin, seemingly changing the structure of it, or¡­ well, something. I wasn¡¯t entirely clear on what was going on there. But it was an active process, and it used mana. Which kind of relieved me, because that meant that once the mana ran out, it would stop and¡­ well, that didn¡¯t necessarily mean that it would revert back to what it was prior. Shit. Nothing I could do at this point, though. Experimentally, I poked my hand with my finger, and I could feel a surface that was much harder than normal skin, somewhat rough to the touch as if it was a sort of stone or coarse wood. Interestingly, it was still flexible, albeit less so. When I pressed harder with my finger, it did leave an indent, but a much smaller one than usual. Eager to find out more, I drew my dagger and poked myself with it. To my amazement, the tip of the dagger did not manage to pierce the skin at all. At least not with the amount of pressure I was exerting. So it gave me resistance to piercing. How about blunt damage? I picked up a stone and hit my arm somewhat tentatively. Usually, that would have been enough to bruise me, but with the new skin, the effect was dampened significantly. In fact, I hardly noticed it. The energy clearly was still there - I could feel the hit. But somehow, the force dissipated along the skin of the arm rather than bruise the flesh inside. I repeated the experiment with more power, and now I could feel some pain, so it wasn¡¯t going to protect me against being hit by a sledgehammer¡­ but at least it would reduce the effect, and it might serve me well against sling-shots, exploding shards, and other smaller projectiles with limited kinetic energy. What if I pushed harder with the dagger? How much pressure could it take? I put my arm on the ground, placed the dagger on top, and pushed. But even when using my full weight, or at least as much bodyweight as I could bring to bear given the awkward position, I could hardly pierce the skin. The tip went into the flesh, but just far enough to draw a little bit of blood, not more. Right about then, roughly forty seconds into the effect, the tingling in my skin suddenly faded away, and slowly my skin turned back to its normal color. I breathed a sigh of relief. While the magical effect was quite impressive, I didn¡¯t fancy the idea of having gray skin for the rest of my life. The ring, it turned out, was devoid of mana by now and, just like the teleportation ring, slowly seemed to refill its energy storage by drawing from the ambient mana. If I had grey mana¡­ could I speed up the process? That was a good question. Of course, if I had grey mana, I might be able to duplicate the effect and not need a ring any longer. That said, it was always good to have some backup in case one ran out of mana. Not that it mattered, since I didn¡¯t have any grey mana. Or all the mana needed to refill the teleportation ring. I did have some of what was required for that, but I was leery of messing with the balance of mana, lest I destroyed something. Patience was a virtue in this case. One that I had preciously little of, all too often. Finally done with my experimentation, I returned to the camper to eat something. I needed to get into the habit of stuffing myself at every opportunity I got. Weighing 130 or 140 pounds at a height of six feet was severely underweight, and I just needed to get all the calories I could. Especially because I was planning to engage in some hardcore training, once I was back at Lake Placid. And there was the consideration of having the fat reserves to activate my healing ability¡­ The only problem was that I already began to dread my meals, even though I had been elated to get any food just a day ago. I mean, stuffing myself with corn was alright, I liked it cold almost as much as warm, but black beans, for instance, were kinda gross unless heated up. Less than excited, I considered my options in addition to cans of corn and beans ¨C Beef Ravioli, Cambell¡¯s Chunky Grilled Chicken Pasta, or Dinty Moor Beef Stew. None of which sounded particularly appealing cold either. If only I could make a fire¡­ but I didn¡¯t want to risk any smoke coming out from the campground. The smell of the food would be bad enough, but something I was willing to risk and couldn¡¯t really prevent anyway, because cold or hot, animals and perhaps monsters were going to smell it. But smoke, that at least I could avoid. I did have Higrom¡¯s Touch, though¡­ suddenly hopeful, I opened the can of beef stew, ripped off the labels on the outside, and put it on the little camp stove the previous owners had used. I then touched the can with my hand and pushed red mana into the metal until it began to take on a reddish sheen of superheated metal. And then I waited. Soon enough, the water inside of the can began to simmer, releasing the enticing smell of a hearty stew, precisely what I needed at this point. A minute later, I had enough of waiting and began to stuff myself with the first lukewarm meal in ages. Satisfyingly filled and feeling almost content despite the various ailments I was still suffering from, I laid down on the mattress and took another look at my stats sheet.
Name Daniel Hollander Rank Initiate 9
Title: Mental Bastion; First Initiate; Army of One; Against the Mighty II; Transformer; Droghul¡¯s Disciple
Strength: 7.5 Intuitive Reasoning: 15 Mana Free Current Potential
Agility: 8 Complex Reasoning: 17 Silver 0 94 94
Speed: 6 Emotional Intelligence: 9 Black 0 125 125
Dexterity: 7 Perception: 14 Amber 0 94 94
Endurance: 9 Spatial Awareness: 21 Red 0 94 94
Vitality: 8.4 Willpower: 21 Yellow 4 0 0
Available characteristic points: 30 [+4]
Spells
Mana Vision Level 14 Twilight Vision Level 2
Minor Healing Level 10 Shadow Skin Level 5
Shadow Sense Level 1 Midnight Skin Level 3
Partial Incorporeality Level 2 Aura of Droghul Level 3
Higrom¡¯s Touch Level 3
Available spell points: 26 [+4]
Skills
Mental Ward Level 8 Mental Fortitude Level 12
Multitasking Level 6 Internal Mana Manipulation Level 8
Meditation Level 6 External Mana Manipulation Level 4
Enhanced Mana Recovery Level 2 Sword Fighting Level 10
Available skill points: 10
Things were looking good. Real good. Based on what Jimmy had told me, Initiate had ten levels in increments of ten mana. So one hundred mana was level ten and then another ten mana, perhaps, to get to Apprentice. Of course, that was assuming that it followed the same progression in terms of mana requirements. Jimmy hadn¡¯t been sure about that because no one in Lake Placid had yet achieved getting to the Apprentice levels. I guessed that I¡¯d find out soon enough. Satisfied, I closed my eyes and soon drifted off into deep sleep. Chapter 43 - Return to Lake Placid I ¡°Alright, everyone, we made it back. I¡¯ll head over to Chad and report what we have found. If anyone wants to join, you are welcome. Otherwise, I¡¯d propose we meet up at the community center later on to determine our next steps.¡± ¡°Sounds good, Ben,¡± Betsy said, before continuing with a sigh. ¡°I¡¯ll head over to the morgue and let them know to put John and Bob on the list, and, I guess, Daniel as well. Did anyone catch his last name?¡± None of them did, so the first name was going to be it. Not that it mattered, ultimately. If anyone had known him, they surely would have assumed already that he was dead a while ago. The first couple of days, survivors had trickled into town, but after the third day, that had completely dried up. No one survived for a whole week in the wilderness, all by themselves. No none until they had met Daniel, that is. ¡°I¡¯ll come along if you¡¯d like.¡± ¡°Up to you, Sue. It really isn¡¯t necessary, though.¡± ¡°Of course, but¡­ I don¡¯t know, I kinda feel like I owe it to Daniel. A sign of respect, you know? He did a selfless thing there, to stay behind so as not to slow us down. I¡¯m not sure I could or would have done the same if I had been in his shoes.¡± ¡°We all feel the same, I think,¡± Betsy said. ¡°A good guy, despite being a bit quirky. Come along, then, if you¡¯d like to.¡± --------------------------------------- ¡°Hey, Liz, we just returned. How are things going?¡± ¡°Good to see you back in one piece, Ben,¡± Elizabeth responded with a coy smile on her face. Her eyes widened in alarm when she noticed the bloody and torn pants he was sporting. ¡°Even though it seemed to have been a close call this time around¡­. What happened?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll fill you in later, Liz. I need to talk to the head honcho first.¡° Disappointed, Elizabeth pouted her lips slightly but then said: ¡°Let me see if he¡¯s around. Give me a sec,¡± before turning around and moving toward the back-office swaying her hips more than strictly necessary. A couple of minutes later, she led Ben to the former hotel office, where they found Chad sitting behind a large desk filled with a map of the area and a few books, some of which looked archaic. ¡°Yes? Ben, was it?¡± ¡°Yes, Sir,¡± Ben responded politely. ¡°Elizabeth said that you had something important to report? Out with it then.¡± ¡°A couple of days ago, we set out with a group of seven people on one of the training missions, scouting the Algonquin Mountain area.¡± ¡°Ah, yes. One of those. Sorry, I don¡¯t keep track of all the training missions¡­ Golgiat manages that mostly. So, what did you find?¡± ¡°Well, there is a large tribe of gars out there, and we found a huge weyr swarm. We lost two of our group in the process, and one more unaffiliated person was killed as well.¡± ¡°Uhm, sorry for your loss¡­ but what numbers are we talking about? A hundred gars? Two hundred? And how big is the weyr swarm?¡± ¡°We are not entirely certain, but based on a rough estimate, about one thousand gars are camping out at the base of the mountain, close to the lodge. And the weyr swarm is, well, it covered a whole clearing. It was hard to make out in the dark, but at a minimum, it was maybe 300k, and it easily might have been a million or more.¡± While Ben was talking, he carefully watched Chad¡¯s face for a reaction. Was this huge news? Was this an existential threat? If he hadn¡¯t kept a close eye on him, he might have missed the twitch in his cheek, the brief frown that went through his stony face. And that reaction scared Ben because Chad never ever showed a reaction unless he was around his own people. -------------------------------------------------------- I woke up in the early morning hours from a fucking cramp in my right calf, about the worst way to finish the night. Immediately, I forced myself to relax the cramping muscle, trying to counteract the natural inclination to contract the leg instead of keeping it straight. ¡°Shitty, fucking hell,¡± I cursed through clenched teeth while I slowly massaged my leg and tried to relax the muscles. Apparently, I had some vitamin or mineral deficiency. No wonder, given my rather unbalanced diet during the last few days. By the time the cramp had subsided entirely, I was wide awake and decided to get up rather than lie around and wait for¡­ well, nothing really. Nothing was going to happen if I just stayed in bed for another hour or even five. And no one was waiting for me. I was all alone in this camper, and as far as I knew, the only one in the whole campground. In Lake Placid, there wasn¡¯t anyone waiting for me either. Annie probably thought I was long dead, and I couldn¡¯t even blame her for it. And beyond her¡­ well, Sue and the others were nice, but I wouldn¡¯t say that they were friends. Sure, shared hardship connects and all that, but it took a bit more to form a real bond. So to some degree, I felt¡­ aimless, lost. Up until now, my desire to feel safe, to find a secure place to recover, train, get stronger had driven me to keep on moving. But now that I had had a relaxing day at the campground and a good night of sleep, albeit with a cramp waking me up¡­ I felt, I don¡¯t know, sluggish and unmotivated. I stumbled around the camper, eyes bleary and full of eye boogers, slowly picking out stuff I wanted to take along. And yes, I was still going to Lake Placid. Despite no one really waiting there for me, it had people, someone to be around. And it probably was a whole lot safer than a remote campground in the middle of nowhere, close to a known weyr swarm and a tribe of gars with reaver dogs as fucking pets. But instead of rushing toward Lake Placid, I was going to be slow and methodical. Presumably, people were going to be congregating in Lake Placid. Where was the food going to come from? Initially, people would just take from the few stores in the village of Lake Placid. But once that food was running out¡­ what then? There would be competition for food, and I was not planning on wasting time in the foreseeable future, trying to scrounge for food somewhere in the wilderness. I didn¡¯t even have the faintest idea of how to go about that anyway. I had never hunted, only once had fished when I was like seven, and had no idea how to lay traps. And who was prepared to stay somewhere without running to the grocery every couple of days? Campers! Coupled with the fact that I had a fucking bag of holding, it was clear what I had to do¡­ go around every camper and take everything edible. It would take me a few hours but would pay huge dividends down the road. A few fruits might have survived the eight or nine days too, and once they were in the bag, they would stay fresh. And that was something that we wouldn¡¯t have for a good long while, if ever again.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. In fact, I should have done that already the previous day¡­ but there was no point in beating myself up over it. I chowed down a quick breakfast, focusing on anything that I thought might have some protein, and then went through the rest of the campground, one camper after another. And it wasn¡¯t merely food that I picked up. I also looked for clothes, knives, some blankets, books about hunting, herbs, and edible plants, and other useful knickknacks that I thought would be helpful down the road. Most of the stuff wouldn¡¯t just disappear if I didn¡¯t pick it up now, but there was a risk that someone else might get there first, or that the gars would go on a rampage through the campers. And there might be other sapient races out there that wouldn¡¯t mind loading up on some modern utensils. No, best to take everything right now, especially because I had space in my bag of holding, and it wouldn¡¯t weigh me down. The best finds where a huge cache of food in one of the more permanent campers, including a whole crate of liquor, a modern hunting bow, just like what Tom was using, including a vast number of carbon fiber arrows, and a bin of non-power operated tools, likely from a medieval crafting aficionado. I had no idea what most of those tools were for, but I was sure I could find some type of manual somewhere in the Lake Placid library. Or perhaps figure it out as I was doing stuff. Not that I was planning to go down the crafting route¡­ but it was good to be able to do stuff if I needed to. The bow was a piece of beauty, sleek, lethal-looking, with military camouflage. I slowly drew my hand along its smooth frame and pulled back the strings a bit to test for the draw weight. Not that I had the faintest idea of how to measure that. I had shot some children¡¯s bows a few times in a summer camp here and there, but that was the extent of my knowledge. Soon, I had most of the space in the bag filled out, even though ten cubic feet had sounded extremely generous earlier. But once you put in a metric ton of spaghetti, various pasta sauces, ketchup, soups galore, alcohol, flour, and all kinds of other bulky stuff, it fills up space rather quickly. Not to speak of all the clothes I picked up and even some shoes that I somehow managed to push through the opening of the sack. Satisfied with my preparation, I finally took off from the campground, without looking back. It was already early afternoon by then, and hot and humid. Not the ideal time to be outside, but I didn¡¯t want to wait longer. Luckily, I had found a nice mountain bike, with a lock that wasn¡¯t too hard to break with all the tools in my possession, so getting to Lake Placid wasn¡¯t going to take too long. Riding a bike had its pros and cons. For one, I wasn¡¯t going to be near as mobile while riding the bike - if something managed to ambush me, I was going to be screwed. On the other hand, on the bike, I had a chance to outpace some creatures that might be after me. Probably not the weyr swarm or the reaver dogs, but I was almost positive that I could at least get away from a patrol of gars. On balance and combined with the fact that instead of walking for three or four hours, I could be there within one hour, it was a pretty clear-cut call. Luckily one doesn¡¯t forget how to ride a bike. It had been four years, after all, that I had sat on one. But after a few shaky yards, I began to feel comfortable and almost enjoyed myself. Not having to lug around a massive amount of stuff in my backpack helped. I still had the backpack, just in case I¡¯d find some bulky items, too big for the bag of holding. I also wanted to have it as a sort of decoy - if I didn¡¯t want to reveal my bag of holding, I could pretend to pull items out of there instead. I made good progress on the bike, mainly because the road was downward sloping. I didn¡¯t even have to work hard to keep going at a decent speed. Soon enough, I hit NY 73, the biggest road in the area, leading straight to Lake Placid. I wouldn¡¯t call the remainder of the trip a pleasure ride, but it was more comfortable. There was more space on the road, so I wasn¡¯t quite as worried about something jumping out of the bushes at me before I¡¯d have time to react. Abandoned cars all along the road, some in the ditches on either side, some simply standing right in the middle, gave testament to the sudden transition to this new world. And the occasional skeleton showed what had happened to some of the previous owners. Most had made it, presumably, but some might have tried to get their car running for too long, or just waited for someone to come, something to return power to their cell phones, and they got caught with their pants down, figuratively speaking. It hadn¡¯t taken the reaver dogs long to get to Lake Placid, and they might have shown up along this road shortly after the change. I shuddered as I biked past those visible reminders of the cruel fates many people had met. How many of these people would have flourished in this new world and just got unlucky? We¡¯d never know. Whenever I passed a house on the way, I briefly stopped and explored it for something useful. More food, a few additional axes, nails¡­ these were things you couldn¡¯t have enough of. Frankly, I was surprised to still find any useful stuff along this big road. I would have thought that the people in Lake Placid would have scavenged things by now, at least the axes. Thinking back at Sue with her baseball bat, I could only shake my head. Not that a baseball bat couldn¡¯t be used to beat someone up¡­ but it wasn¡¯t nearly as versatile and durable as a solid ax, even if it was only an ax to chop wood, not a real war ax. Almost anticlimactically, I reached the outskirts of Lake Placid by the late afternoon without any further incidents. Not that I was going to complain about it. What I needed was food, rest, and training. In that order. And then I needed to figure out what to do about the bikers and the gars, and those I¡¯tisch League of Cities people, and Annie, and¡­ shit. Too long of a list. First things first. And perhaps I should hook up with Sue and the others, assuming that they had made it. Since I didn¡¯t know anybody, and they, at least, were nice, it would be great to have the company until I managed to figure things out. They had mentioned that they were staying at the High Peaks Resort on Sara-Placid Road. Which was pretty much in the center. Going there, I¡¯d pass the bed and breakfast where I had stayed with Annie, so I could make a quick stop and see what the situation was like. It was a weird feeling to walk along the main street, see lots of people walk around, some of them very determined-looking, whereas others seemed to amble around almost aimlessly. It was almost¡­ normal. As if nothing had happened. At least as long as one ignored that there were no cars, no lights, and none of the constant background noise that usually penetrates every facet of modern life. These people looked well-fed, civilized, and¡­ utterly unprepared for the dangers and rigors that I had experienced during this last week. Most people didn¡¯t even have any weapons with them, and the ones that did¡­ safe to say, the weapons were mostly makeshift, with crude spears, golf clubs, and baseball bats the most common sight. Shaking off those thoughts, I focused on what I was going to do. Should I go in and shout Annie¡¯s name? Get some flowers? How would she react to seeing me? Would she smile? Or jump into my arms and kiss me? For a moment, I imagined her warm lips pressed against mine, her petite body tight against my chest, and the salty taste of her tears as she was crying in happiness to see me. I had to chuckle at those enticing, but entirely unrealistic thoughts. Probably she would just scold me for leaving like that, not that it had been my fault. Even more likely, she wasn¡¯t even going to recognize me at first. I hadn¡¯t realized how different I looked until I had seen my reflection in the small mirror in the bathroom of the camper ¡­ I was gaunt as hell, stubbly beard, weird clothes, some too small, some too big, and eyes that looked somewhat disconcerting, to say the least. But Ben had thought I looked familiar, and he had known me for a grand total of half a day before I had met him again. Annie¡­ well, she had taken care of me like a mom would take care of a baby for the better part of four years. So that was different. Surely, she was going to recognize me. ¡­ ¡­ But what if not? Was I going to¡­ just tell her, ¡®Hey, I am Daniel!¡¯ Or¡­ Fuck. I had no clue what to do, really. Inexplicably, I felt more nervous than when dealing with the goblins all by myself or staying behind facing the gars and weyr swarm. Perhaps I should have asked Sue for advice. But then again, from what I could tell, she was a complete nut-job more often than not, so probably that wouldn¡¯t have been helpful either. Steeling my nerves, I went up the little ramp and into the bed and breakfast. The common room looked exactly the same as when I had left, with furniture strewn all over from the fight against the reaver dogs, glass fragments on the floor, and a few blood stains where the reaver dogs had died. And no people. Shit. I had never even considered that people would have left. After all, the windows here were destroyed, and there were plenty of houses and hotels around that stood empty. So what now? One option was to find a room somewhere, hunker down, and then figure out my next steps. The other possibility was to go to Ben and co. and stay at their place for the time being. For a moment, I was torn because I did value the independence and privacy of my own place. But I had been alone for too long, and it was safer to be around other people, especially ones that I already knew a little bit and, for the most part, trusted. And maybe they knew about Annie. I had never considered asking them about her, for fear of revealing who I was¡­ but at some point, I had to trust some people. Chapter 43 - Return to Lake Placid II Somewhat despondent and deep in thought, I made my way down Main Street, pushing the bike next to me, when I suddenly was shoved forcefully to the side. Completely unprepared, I lost my balance, stumbled over the bike, and crashed into a car that was parked at the side of the road. It hurt. Not like being cut by a sword or torn to shreds by a giant shadow cat¡­ but it was still painful, and the raucous laughter didn¡¯t help. Slowly, I picked myself up from the ground and turned around to see who had just attacked me like that, out of nowhere, without any provocation whatsoever. Turned out, it was one of the bikers. A huge fellow, with shoulder-length hair and a leather vest that was almost bursting at the seams from the strain of containing his enormous, bulging muscles. He must have been close to seven feet, and his overall bulk made him quite intimidating. Like Gregor Clegane on steroids. And I immediately hated his guts. Not that I needed another justification to hate those guys, but frankly, I hadn¡¯t really thought all that much about the bikers during the last few days. Those feelings now came back with a vengeance. He wasn¡¯t alone, either. To his right was a bored-looking chick that seemed almost normal, but was completely disinterested in the ongoings, instead opting to clean her teeth with a toothpick while waiting. And then there was another biker guy, this one more sleek-looking, like a snake somehow, with sinuous, lightning-quick movements. ¡°Don¡¯t get in my way, cretin,¡± the big biker barked at me, once he had stopped laughing. ¡°Or what? You gonna shove me again?¡± I asked, not willing to just back down. You give some asshat an inch, they will take a yard. Not with me. If he was trying that again, he would meet a few inches of steel instead of my skinny bones, that was for sure. ¡°I might,¡± the giant said, utterly oblivious to my attempt of standing up to him. Somehow this reminded me of some of those Calvin and Hobbes comics where Moe, the bully, was too stupid to get the smartassery of Calvin. Not that I had tried to be facetious. But I was almost sure that it would have been lost on the big fella anyway. ¡°And the next time might be more painful, little ogre,¡± the biker continued before turning around and continuing to walk down the wide street. Little ogre? What the fuck was he talking about? That didn¡¯t even make sense. The way he had said that it was supposed to be a belittling insult. Did the guy even know what an ogre was? I was about to shout something flippant at the back of the guy when I heard a whisper next to me. ¡°Don¡¯t do it.¡± ¡°Fucking hell,¡± I cursed while whirling around. Twice in a row, I had not noticed anyone approaching me. I was getting really sloppy. Spatial awareness my ass¡­ In the dungeon, that would have easily cost me my life. Luckily, it was just a skinny guy, with a few too many piercings and some tattoos, that, instead of making him look tough, somehow managed to make him feel geeky. ¡°Who are you? And what the fuck do you care?¡± ¡°Whoa, hey, chill down. I am just trying to help ya here. Peace, dude!¡± I glanced back at the disappearing group of three and took a deep breath. Probably the guy was right. There was no point in picking a fight at this point. I¡¯d deal with the bikers when the time was right, I swore to myself, and not before. ¡°Sorry, I just got a bit freaked out by you appearing practically next to my ear,¡± I said, turning back to the guy. ¡°Nifty, huh?¡± The guy smiled. ¡°It is called ¡®Ghost Step,¡¯ bro.¡± ¡°Ghost Step? Like you turn into a ghost or something?¡± I asked, suddenly curious. That would be pretty close to my incorporeality spell. And if some random person could control that type of magic¡­ I might have to revise my opinion about the power level of the average Placidian. ¡°Na, that would be wicked. It¡¯s more like, ya know, making ya real quiet and sneaky-like.¡± ¡°Ah, I see¡­ what mana type is that?¡± ¡°It¡¯s like white mana, my man. The best mana type, by a lot!¡± ¡°For sure,¡± I agreed, not seeing the need to argue the point. There were some more important questions, I needed to inquire about. ¡°So what¡¯s up with those people? I mean, are they just walking through the street shoving people around all day long?¡± ¡°Nope. Just sometimes. How come ya don¡¯t know them? Have ya smoked like weed the whole time?¡± the guy almost looked hopeful at me. ¡°Nope, I haven¡¯t. I just was out and about most of the time. Soooo¡­?¡± ¡°Oh, well, the big guy is Lil¡¯Pope, stupid as a log. He has a bit of a temper. He likes pushing people around, it improves his mood¡­ Just don¡¯t cross him, at least not to his face. He is seriously strong. Like for real.¡± ¡°How strong is that? Like strongest-man-competition type strong?¡± ¡°Well, dude, I don¡¯t have the faintest. But I heard rumors of a strength of like twenty-five. I have seen him shove a car to the side. Just like that. So, I¡¯d say¡­ don¡¯t get into a shoving match with him,¡± the guy grinned. ¡°What about the others? The chick and the snake-guy?¡± ¡°Bad news, them. Bad news, I say.¡± ¡°Like in what sense,¡± I asked, interested in finding out more about my potential adversaries. ¡°Well, like the dude is called Cobra. The first one to make it into the EFU, if ya know what I mean.¡± ¡°The what?¡± ¡°Dude, the EFU! Elite Fighting Unit. Seriously? Man, you¡¯re so chill¡­¡± I wasn¡¯t sure how to respond to that and how to even interpret that. Was it a compliment? Or criticism? And, of course, I had remembered about the EFU, but I wanted this guy to tell me a bit more. ¡°Sooo¡­?¡± ¡°Yeah, like the best fighters¡­ elite fighting unit, best fighters¡­ makes sense? Anyhoo, he got in first. Fast, mean, smart. Don¡¯t mess with him, seriously. The right-hand man of Big Pete.¡± Ah, that was useful information. So Big Pete was still around. And he still was on top of the pecking order. Which would make it all the sweeter when I¡¯d take him out. ¡°The hoe is Wendy. She¡¯s been around if ya take my drift. But she is deadly too. More the sneaky type. I have heard that she disappears sometimes, and the next thing you know, she has a knife on your throat. I¡¯d know¡­¡± the guy was nervously touching a thin scar on his throat, before continuing. ¡°Shadow mana, based on the rumors. Nasty, nasty little bitch. She is really fast too.¡±This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°So, no one opposes them?¡± ¡°Dude, no one dares to, for real. Some people did, but they disappeared. I remember that chick¡­ damn, she was cute. She told them what was what, and next thing ya knew she was gone. Never seen her again.¡± ¡°What about the rest of the EFU? I mean, there should be others that are equally strong, right? This cannot be it!¡± ¡°Uh, there are others, alright. But they just don¡¯t care. Or they only care about their friends, ya know what I mean? No, the best thing is to stay out of their way, keep your distance.¡± ¡°Hmpf, well, I can¡¯t say I like that¡­ so how come you prevented me from getting killed? Are you like an altruist or something? A good Samaritan?¡± ¡°Duuude, I am like, seeing this skinny guy, all bones and whatnot, amble down the street, walking straight into Lil¡¯Pope, and I was like, respect, no fear, nothing. And then I saw ya fly into the cars, and you know, I felt with ya. I have been there, ya know? And we bottom dwellers have to stick together!¡± ¡°Uhm, ok. That makes sense,¡± I managed to respond with a straight face. Bottom dweller¡­ that was a new one. But whatever. The guy had actually been helpful, and he was nice enough, if in a slightly weird way. ¡°Thanks, man. I am Daniel,¡± I said, holding out my hand. ¡°Dude, no worries. I am John,¡± the guy responded, shaking my hand vigorously as if his life depended on it. ¡°The John!¡± ¡°The John?¡± ¡°Yeah, like the John-of-first-encounter with Chad.¡± ¡°The what?¡± ¡°Duuude, so, ya don¡¯t know? I HAVE to tell ya. So, I was just strolling down the street, ya know, just like ya did now, not a worry in my mind, thinking about the next smoke I was gonna have. The sun was shining, and the cicidas, no cicadaes, like, those insect things, they were like chirping all over, ya know, all peaceful and whatnot. Like real chill. And then there are those people walking toward me, all geared up fancy and full of weapons and stuff. And I am like, dude, those are so cool. Like reenactment people, for real. And so, I am like, hey, what¡¯s up, yo? Do you have a smoke for me? And they were like-¡° ¡°John, that sounds totally fascinating, but I actually have to get somewhere¡­¡± I said, trying to extricate myself from the tale before John got even more animated and engaged. ¡°You can tell me next time. It sounds awesome, though.¡± ¡°Sure, Dan, sounds like a plan. But hey, if ya wanna hang out sometime, I ha-¡° ¡°Yeah, John, we¡¯ll do that soon. Take care for now. Uhm, peace!¡± I made a peace sign while moving backward out of the immediate range of John, and then hurriedly walked away, down Main Street. ¡°See ya soon then,¡± John shouted, sounding almost hopeful. Shit, after that barrage of words, I was almost ready to leave Lake Placid behind. I liked having company, but¡­ it could get a bit too much if I had to deal with people like John. Luckily, Ben and the others weren¡¯t like that. At least not out in the wild. But, as annoying as John might turn out to be, he also had given me some good initial intel. I was sure that I could have obtained the same from other people. But the more I could spread the information gathering around, the less I¡¯d reveal my ignorance. Not that Sue and the others would be worried about that since I had already told them that I had only been here the very first days. But other people didn¡¯t know, and I wasn¡¯t going to volunteer that information either. Soon enough, I reached the High Peaks Resort. The hotel and that is what it was, despite the fancy name, had a swimming pool upfront, somewhat dirty by now, and a set of glass doors leading into the lobby. At least, it wasn¡¯t one of those cheap-ass motels that had small rooms accessible from the outside - to reach the rooms you had to cross the lobby and then follow the hallways spreading out from there, or climb up the stairs. It made the whole thing much more defensible, which, since the transition, had become a significant consideration. Tentatively, I made my way inside, somewhat worried that I would be perceived as an intruder. The air in the lobby was stale and hot. At least, the building was made out of concrete, which kept things relatively cool compared to the wooden houses that made up most of Lake Placid. But there was almost no way to create a nice draft through the lobby because none of the windows could be opened. If it had been me, I would have already broken a couple of them just to get the air to circulate, but since I wasn¡¯t in charge here, I wasn¡¯t going to take the initiative¡­ I just hoped that the rooms were a bit less stifling than this. The entrance area of the hotel was still in reasonably good condition, but I could see dirt starting to accumulate on the carpet and some discarded items that would have been cleaned away just a couple of weeks earlier. Luckily, no one was there, saving me from the awkwardness of having to explain myself to a stranger. Then again¡­ I had no idea where to go from here. I mean, there were about fifty rooms, and I didn¡¯t fancy the idea of going through one after another to try and find Sue and the others. Assuming that they were even in. Waffling for a moment on what to do, I finally resolved myself to sit down in the lobby and wait for them to come around, or at least for someone to show up that I could ask. If nothing happened for a couple of hours, I could still go around knocking on doors. And I wasn¡¯t going to get bored either. First off, I needed to stuff myself yet again. I had eaten some cereal bars almost continuously. Still, I needed to have a substantial meal every few hours, ideally with some meat. While I was munching away, I began to think about my training. I needed to get more robust, faster, more agile¡­ you name it. I could feel that my body had yet again regained some physical attributes across the board, continuing the crazy recovery speed since the change. I wasn¡¯t anywhere close to where I wanted to be, but the much-improved food, at least in terms of calories and proteins, coupled with much better rest and no injuries, had done wonders for my physical development. Well, not quite wonders¡­ but the change was noticeable. As I mechanically chewed on my food, I decided to take a look at the changes to my body. Not in terms of stats and whatnot, but internally. Where did the muscles come from? Was the energy drawn from my fat reserves? Or the blood sugar? I focused on the ebb and flow of the energy in the muscles in my arm. At first, I didn¡¯t see much at all ¨C there was the flow of silver, amber, black, and red mana, as was the case with any other part of my body. But there was something else as well¡­ I wasn¡¯t sure what it was, but I could see things change that shouldn¡¯t change. My arm was resting on my lap, completely still. Yet, the muscles seemed to transform, ever so slightly. And there was a wisp of mana that I could see with my peripheral vision. Whenever I focused on it, I wasn¡¯t able to notice anything unusual, but then, the moment I looked elsewhere, I could¡­ feel something change. It was an aggravating feeling not to be able to see what was going on, to be able to analyze what was happening inside of me. Did I need more perception? That was probably a wise investment anyway because it would not only allow me to notice useful stuff, but also react better in combat. Somewhat reluctantly, but also almost unreasonably excited, I decided to go ahead. I¡¯d put one point in perception and see what would happen. After all, it wasn¡¯t as if there was an easy way to train perception. For that matter, investing a point with its immediate impact on the body might also make the process of how these mana-driven physical changes happened a lot more visible. Assuming, of course, that a standard recovery, albeit sped up, would work the same way as changing physical or mental features using characteristic points. Time to find out. Immediately after spending the point, I felt something change in my brain. Suddenly, I had a blinding headache out of nowhere that made me want to bang my head against the floor, just to escape. And then it got worse. It felt like an army of ants marching inside my mind, biting and tickling me all over - and there was nothing I could do to get them out. I scratched my head hard enough to draw blood, curling up in a tight ball on the faux leather seats in the front lobby. I started moaning and rocking back and forth in a futile effort to manage the discomfort. When that didn¡¯t do diddly-squat, I tried to distract myself by checking whether there were any visible changes going on, some type of process that I could observe. After all, that had been part of my initial intention. And there was. The area inside my skull was a hive of activity. Obviously, I couldn¡¯t see it, per se, but with my meditation skill, I could perceive it like a third-person observer floating around my body. Multiple types of energy were churning around each other, dominated by green mana, which partially was drawn in from outside my body, but the bulk of it came from¡­ my stomach area! That was good news because it implied that the energy did not actually have to come from built-in fat reserves. Just having enough organic fuel in the stomach would allow me to use those characteristic points. Granted, changes in the brain were probably going to require much less supplementary physical substance¡­ like a few more neuron connections perhaps, slight alterations in the brain structure, the nervous system, maybe a few glands. I had no idea what exactly could make someone more intelligent or perceptive, but surely it was some combination of those things. This meant that the energy required was probably relatively low, compared to creating denser muscles, increased muscle mass, or revamp and strengthen the whole body to increase vitality. So perhaps putting food in the stomach would work just fine for the mental stats, but I was less sure about changes in physical stats. At least via points invested. I could see that a somewhat slower buildup through exercises might be perhaps supported by drawing in ambient mana and whatever was in the stomach at the time. Chapter 43 - Return to Lake Placid III So what if I put another point into perception? Would it continue to be fueled by that one meal that I had eaten? That was useful information to have, so I could plan the timing of my point expenditures as efficiently as possible. The sheer quantity of points I possessed made that a necessity unless I wanted to sit around and twiddle my thumbs most of the time. But should I really do it? That itch¡­ Fuck it. I just needed to man up and get through it. Itch or not¡­ it was a useful skill, presumably, and no matter what, there would be discomfort. Even just working out was painful. Not that I wouldn¡¯t prefer that type of pain any day over the godawful itch from changing perception. Shrugging my shoulders, I invested another point. And immediately, the headache and the itch doubled in intensity. I lost all reason and was just hanging over the side of the armchair, groaning, and barely coherent. And the whole process wasn¡¯t exactly short either. It went on and on, seemingly forever. At some point, I felt a cool hand on my forehead, but I was so out of it that I couldn¡¯t even open my eyes. Thank goodness that I had not tried this in the dungeon. Even a single rat could have killed me during an episode like that. I heard voices, somewhat muffled as if coming through a thick layer of cotton. And then someone lifted me up and carried me like a baby somewhere slightly cooler and dark. And I forced myself to relax as much as I could. I woke up lying on a soft mattress in a standard if somewhat nicer hotel room. There was the queen-sized bed, beige-colored walls, the usual assortment of furniture, and the obligatory flatscreen TV as the centerpiece of the room. My hand shot down to the belt, checking for the bag of holding, my rings, and the weapons - everything was still with me, which made me breathe a sigh of relief. So far, so good. With a groan, I lifted myself out of bed and walked toward the heavy, dark red curtains, next to the now-defunct air conditioner. I immediately realized that I noticed¡­ details, small things that I would not have paid attention to before ¨C the stain on the duvet cover, likely some blood, the hole in the carpet, where someone had dropped a cigarette at some point, the botched carpenter-job with the baseboards, leaving an ugly opening in the corner instead of a smooth finish. And more. It was eerie, comparable to switching from a low-resolution video to high definition. But in real life. The stream of new sensory information almost overwhelmed me for a moment, but then, like flipping a switch, my brain adjusted to the new reality. This was fucking ridiculous. And all the result of a meager two additional points in perception, slightly more than a ten percent improvement. For a moment, I wondered what would happen if I dumped another five or ten points into perception. I¡¯d be like a walking detector. The changes also made me excited about the implications for my fighting abilities. After all, melee combat is a lot about spatial awareness and anticipating opponents. And while I possessed the former in spades, the latter had been lacking. What looks like lightning reflexes in fencers and duelists, was mostly just their superior ability to read their adversary. Small twitches in muscles, subtle changes in the footwork, angle, and positioning all could possibly give away the next move. And this might enable a perceptive fighter to lean back instead of jump out of the way of a weapon, duck a few inches, rather than drop to the floor ¨C all of which would allow that person to overcome a physically much more impressive opponent. Not that two additional points in perception would make me an Olympic-ranked fighter. But if my increased ability to notice details in my surroundings was any indication, it was going to make a difference. Outside, it was dark, but it felt as if the sun had just set - there was still that faint illumination on the horizon that indicated that it hadn¡¯t been long. Which meant that I had been out of it for a couple of hours, perhaps. Not great, but also not terrible. Something to keep an eye on, though, and definitely not a process I should be starting in dangerous surroundings. Unless I could get somehow used to the process¡­ but I didn¡¯t have high hopes for that. What about nourishment? Based on a rough estimation, most, if not all, of the energy needed for the transformation had come from the food I had taken in previously. Of course, I couldn¡¯t know for sure, since I could not exactly see the amount of food that was left in the stomach or my intestines. Still, the rumbling and slight discomfort of an empty stomach gave a strong indication that my fairly substantial meal was already fully used up. Coupled with no apparent loss in my scant muscle mass¡­ I thought it was a useful benchmark, at least. The view outside also confirmed that I was still in the same hotel. The only question remaining was who had taken me to bed. That sounded so weird. Like a baby. But I guess I had been pretty helpless. Was it a random Samaritan? My bet was on Ben and company. Gingerly, and still slightly freaked out about the change in perception, I made my way outside of the room and into the archetypical hotel hallway ¨C long, dark, carpet covered corridors just without the usual illumination. There was some faint noise coming from the room right across, the door barely visible in the sliver of light coming from the darkening sky. After a moment of hesitation, I decided to knock. It was a surreal feeling to be so¡­ civilized. Instinctively, my hands had reached for my sword and dagger, preparing myself for an ambush, a fight to the death, or at the very least, a tense stand-off. But there was nothing to be really afraid of here. This was the US. And a few days weren¡¯t going to change things that much. Unless it was the bikers, but that would be plain weird. I had to chuckle at the image of Lil¡¯Pope carrying me like a baby, and Cobra tucking me into the bed. But any remaining worry I might have had was alleviated when I heard the unmistakable sound of Sue¡¯s chipper voice.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. ¡°Come in!¡± Since the electronic lock had stopped working, I was able to simply push the door open and step into the room. Instead of the usual arrangement with two queen-sized or one king-sized bed, there was a nice open space, with a few armchairs and some tables. And there they were, all five of them, Ben, Sue, Betsy, Jimmy, and Tom. ¡°There he is!¡± Ben shouted happily while Sue ran over and hugged me. For a moment, I was stunned, didn¡¯t know how to react. ¡°Relax, Daniel,¡± Sue laughed while stepping back. ¡°It was only a hug. I am not going to bite you or anything.¡± ¡°I, ¡­ sorry, I am not really used t-¡° Luckily, the others stepped in, clapping me on the shoulders and shaking my hands, which allowed me to just move on from my somewhat weird reaction without having to explain things. It felt strange to be in the middle of a pile of people, all clapping my shoulders, smiling at me, and generally being all too close for comfort. It wasn¡¯t that I was afraid of physical contact, but¡­ I just wasn¡¯t used to it any longer, at least not in a friendship-like way. There had been plenty of physical contact with my caretakers, but that wasn¡¯t¡­ personal. Not really, anyway. It had been business, with the sole exception of Annie, who I had formed a much closer connection to. But soon enough, everyone calmed down and sat back into their comfortable armchairs. ¡°So, Daniel, tell us, what happened after we left you?¡± Ben asked. ¡°I¡¯m going to be honest; I didn¡¯t think we would see you again.¡± ¡°Well, it is much less impressive than you might think,¡± I said, playing down my experience. ¡°You already know my ability to hide, and that worked pretty well against the weyrs. I was a tad worried that their primary sense was something other than visual, but, obviously, it wasn¡¯t.¡± ¡°So that was it?¡± Ben asked incredulously. ¡°That easy?¡± Soon the others peppered me with questions, trying to find our more. I spun a little story that was close enough to the truth but left out that I had killed close to fifty thousand bugs and the weyr queen. I figured that revealing those little tidbits would cause lots of unwanted questions about my abilities. Instead, I told them that I had used the weyr swarm to kill the gars, and, more importantly, the reaver dogs, and then had been hiding from the bugs until I could get away. But it wasn¡¯t just me talking. Ben also told me, with more or less helpful comments by the others, about their harrowing experience, making their own getaway. They had run into a small group of gars and the occasional monster on the way, barely escaping with their lives a few times. ¡°So, you leveled up?¡± Ben asked after we had settled into a comfortable silence. ¡°What makes you think so?¡± I responded, somewhat surprised by the question. ¡°When we came in, you seemed to be in the middle of a point adjustment process¡­ good thing we knew about the usual effect of such things, otherwise we might have freaked out finding you completely out of it,¡± Jimmy replied. ¡°So that is normal?¡± I asked. ¡°It was the worst!¡± ¡°Well, normal¡­ everyone is different as far as we know,¡± Jimmy explained. ¡°There is also a significant difference between changing mental stats and physical stats. Mental stats are much more uncomfortable, from what I heard, but changing physical stats is incomparably more taxing physically.¡± ¡°Just out of curiosity, what did you change?¡± For a moment, I almost panicked. I felt cornered. Why would he ask me that? It felt kind of intrusive. But then I chided myself for getting too paranoid. These were nice people, and there wasn¡¯t really any big secret about what kind of skills I might have changed. Especially because it was already quite obvious, that I had leveled up and used points to change some of my underlying stats. ¡°I increased perception,¡± I responded after a short moment. ¡°Perception?¡± Sue burst out laughing. ¡°Are you kidding me, Daniel? You need to work on your physical stats, not some fancy perception bullshit. I mean, look at you, all skin and bones!¡± ¡°Well, it is actually really useful,¡± I began to say, trying to defend myself. Before I could continue, Jimmy jumped in and said: ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Daniel. I don¡¯t think there is a right or wrong here. I can see where Sue is coming from, but she apparently forgot,¡± he glanced at her with a frown, ¡°that you expect to make a physical recovery rather quickly, and then it makes perfect sense to hold off on spending points on physical stats. If anything, the concern might be that you are spending it on mental stats, even though, arguably, the physical stats give you the greatest edge for surviving.¡± ¡°Speaking off,¡± he continued after giving me a quizzical look, ¡°you seem already in much better physical shape than just a couple of days ago.¡± ¡°He is right,¡± Sue shouted. ¡°Oh my god, how did I not see it before? Daniel, you are almost bursting out of your clothes with all your muscles!¡± And then she started laughing in her pearly, silvery voice until tears were streaming down her cheeks and she had to hold her hurting stomach. And even though it wasn¡¯t particularly funny, everybody just had to laugh along at her antics, and how hilarious she apparently thought her statement had been. The rest of the evening, we spent talking about some of our experiences, sharing stories of bloody fights and tight spots we had found ourselves in. I was sure that they embellished a lot, but so did I. There was some bragging here and there, but mostly it was just a fun little story-night among friends. And the more time I spent with them, the more I actually felt like there might be a budding friendship. And then Ben pulled out a guitar and started playing some popular tunes, while Betsy accompanied him softly with the lyrics in a beautiful alto. The rest of us just sat there, listening, while the light from the candles slowly diminished, as one after another burned down to the last tiny bit of wick and then flickered out. As the shadows lengthened and became deeper, I let my mind drift, more relaxed than in a very long time. There was something about the soft music, the warm, if faint light provided by the scant few remaining candles and the company of people that just were¡­ normal, nice people. There was a sense of belonging, of community. And even if it was only for those few hours, I cherished the feeling. I wanted this moment to last longer, for us to be shielded against the outside world, hidden in a pocket of darkness, somewhere. Protected from the dangers of this new world, the struggle, suffering, and strife it would bring. There was energy in the surrounding, everywhere. I had been aware of that since I had started using Mana Vision. But now I could feel it as well. A dark current of power that was flowing around us. Some of it was just a faint resonance, like a whisper echoing through a long tunnel. But some of it was right there, almost at my fingertips. It felt¡­ malleable. Not mine, but something I could nudge, shape to my will. And it was growing stronger, as the candlelight became less steady, less bright. The shadows around us beckoned me. They almost seemed to dance around me, playfully, only to withdraw the moment I tried to touch, or even just look at them. Like a skittish animal, playful, yet afraid. I reached out, trying to grasp the shadows, feel their substance, their nature. But there was nothing there, just a faint memory of the potency that resided in the momentary darkness that danced all around us. But then Ben stopped playing the guitar. The sudden silence felt jarring. ¡°Guys, what is this?¡± Ben whispered softly. Tom, who hadn¡¯t said much all evening, slowly got up from his comfortable armchair and grabbed a little ax from the small table next to him. ¡°Let¡¯s get into the hallway. Jimmy, can you tell us anything about this?¡± Jimmy stared apprehensively at the churning shadows that had formed a sort of dome around us. Every few seconds, wisps of darkness were shooting out of the mass of shadows, almost playfully, only to fade away a moment later. ¡°No clue,¡± Jimmy responded. ¡°But it somehow doesn¡¯t feel dangerous¡­ Look, it moves away when I approach.¡± ¡°Uhm, sorry, guys, I think that might have been me,¡± I said after a moment of hesitation. I couldn¡¯t tell how I knew or why I felt that way, but somehow I was sure that those shadows were connected to me, to my wishes and desires. ¡°Not sure what is going on¡­ but I feel like¡­ fuck, I have no idea how to describe this. There is like¡­ a connection, a bond?¡± As the others stared at me, I slowly petered out with my hopeless attempt at explaining what was going on. But rather than incomprehension, my gaze met incredulity. Chapter 43 - Return to Lake Placid IV ¡°Oh my fucking goodness,¡± Sue shouted. ¡°That must be one of those affinity revelations that Deklajan keeps on talking about. What the fuck, Daniel? You have been holding out on us! What level are you? Six? Seven? Or even higher than that?¡± ¡°Well, uhm, nine?¡± I responded hesitantly. It wasn¡¯t information that I had necessarily wanted to divulge, but obviously, these affinity revelations were supposed to happen at a higher level. And despite my misgivings at spilling the beans on my skills and levels, I realized that I was even more afraid of losing the trust of these people. I had met them only a couple of days ago and spent even less time with them than that, but I felt¡­ close to them. Trusted them. And I needed that. It was weird for me to feel that needy, that insecure. But with Annie god knows where I had no one else. There was no one to call, to text, no Facebook postings to share experiences vicariously. So unless I wanted to be a hermit or the lone wolf hero that rejects all human interaction as a weakness, I needed this. And being caught hiding too much about myself, or outright lying to the others was the quickest way to destroy this budding relationship. ¡°What?¡± Sue shouted, sounding almost outraged. ¡°You are at a higher level than all of us? That¡¯s just not fair!¡± ¡°What she is trying to say,¡± Ben said with a smile, ¡°is that we are quite impressed by your accomplishments. I think only a couple of the EFU members are higher level than you. And, of course, Chad and his group. Well done!¡± ¡°Now it also makes more sense that you managed to evade that weyr swarm and the gars,¡± Jimmy added. ¡°There was no way that a level one or level two person would have enough mana to keep their camouflage up sufficiently long. We don¡¯t have too many shadow mana users in Lake Placid, but I do know that much.¡± ¡°Well, I say that he is a liar!¡± Sue insisted with a pout on her lips. ¡°He tried to fool me into thinking that he is a weakling.¡± ¡°Wait, what? I didn¡¯t do anything of the sort,¡± I said somewhat defensively. ¡°No worries, Daniel. That is just Sue¡¯s jealousy speaking,¡± Betsy chuckled. ¡°She always wants to be on top.¡± ¡°No, that¡¯s not true,¡± Sue immediately countered. ¡°Yes, it is!¡± ¡°No, it¡¯s not!¡± As things were descending into a childish squabble, I managed to relax. The reaction to my high level had been much more muted than I had been afraid of, except Sue¡¯s outburst. Still, even that seemed more like a momentary outrage about me out-leveling her, than a permanent grudge. For the next few minutes, I tried to explain to the others without much success what the affinity revelation had felt like. Eventually, I had to accept, though, that there simply was no good way for me to explain it. It had to be experienced. And, frankly, I wasn¡¯t entirely sure what had happened or what impact it might have on me. Maybe it somehow affected my shadow mana spells? Curious, I activated Shadow Skin for a brief moment. The black mana surged to my skin in something closer to a wave rather than the trickle I usually experienced and, it was hard to tell, but it felt as if the mana consumption of the spell had slightly decreased as well. So this affinity stuff was some type of meta ability? Something like internal or external mana manipulation? What was the difference between those, though? Perhaps shadow affinity was only for shadow mana spells then? Easy enough to test. I pulled amber mana to a scrape on my skin and encountered about the same level of effort and time, as had been the case previously. So it stood to reason that mana manipulation was a general skill that allowed the user to perform ever more complex spells. Affinity then, perhaps, represented the ease with which one could manipulate a particular type of mana. The level of the individual spell was the narrowest gauge of proficiency, as it only targeted one specific magical effect. I quickly checked my stats and confirmed that shadow affinity had appeared and currently sat at a level of 1. And, more importantly, it was a skill, not a spell. Down the road, when I was going to spend my skill points, it was going to be an interesting question on whether they should go into affinity or one of the mana manipulation skills. Generally, it seemed easier to level a manipulation skill by just train the heck out of it. Affinity, on the other hand,¡­ how would you train something like that? That said, affinity was much more specialized, which wasn¡¯t a concern for someone with only one core, but I had four of them and needed to balance things. Something to think more about in the future. I looked up from my musing and suddenly realized that the others were staring at me. ¡°Hello, Daniel? Anyone at home?¡± Sue asked somewhat sarcastically. ¡°Sorry, I was just lost in my thoughts, trying to figure out what affinity did and how that would affect my training.¡± ¡°You are such a nerd,¡± Sue groused. ¡°Who thinks about training after such a breakthrough? We need to party! I wish we had some booze. I can¡¯t believe that someone cleaned out all the fucking stores before I thought about it.¡± ¡°I have a couple of cans of beer left,¡± Tom said quietly. ¡°I¡¯m happy to share for such an occasion.¡± ¡°You have some booze?¡± Sue almost shouted again. ¡°Tom, I fucking love you! Did I ever tell you that? Even if you¡¯ve been holding out on us as well, you son of a gun! Now bring the beer, and let¡¯s party!¡± ¡°Wait,¡± I raised my hand, ¡°I actually have something better. Let me go get it. I¡­ uhm,¡­¡± Shit, I wanted to say that I had some booze in my room, but the others had carried me up there, including my backpack, and they would have surely noticed the clinking of bottles. And didn¡¯t want to really disclose that I had a bag of holding¡­ that was one of the aces I needed to keep back, just in case. Desperately, I tried to come up with something reasonable, but my mind completely blanked. In the end, I said somewhat lamely: ¡°I hid a couple of bottles down in the lobby before trying to level up my stats.¡± ¡°Hah, why the fuck would you hide the bottles in the lobby, Daniel?¡± Sue laughed. ¡°You¡¯re such a weirdo¡­ but no matter, go, get them! I want to get drunk asap! And a couple of cans of beer just won¡¯t do that. No sir, not even close.¡± Sometimes there are benefits to being considered somewhat strange, I supposed. A few minutes later, we were all sitting companionably in the dark room, slowly sipping whiskey on the rocks, with ice generously created by a flash of blue mana from Jimmy. Now that was a useful skill, I mused. Shooting icicles at opponents was nice, but being able to create ice for cooling was even better, in my opinion. For one, it was a comfort thing, being able to cool down drinks, but the other aspect, much more important, was that it would allow for some cold storage. I hadn¡¯t really thought about it yet, but in the long term, we were going to run out of cans and other preserved food, and then we needed to figure out a way to keep food from spoiling. I had no idea how people had done that in the past¡­ something about placing water in a way that it evaporated and cold night temperatures. Luckily, we didn¡¯t have to revert back to that with people like Jimmy around. Now I only needed to get my hands on some coke. Whiskey was¡­. overrated, I thought. Granted, it gave a good kick and a hot rush extending from the throat to the rest of the body. But I had expected a bit more. ¡°Why is everyone raving about whiskey?¡± I grumbled into my glass.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Sue asked after happily downing a shot in one go. ¡°Whiskey is the best¡­ mind you, I do like wine as well, vodka, cocktails, beer. But whiskey has this special something.¡± ¡°I like Baileys or Irish cream,¡± Betsy confessed, slightly wheezing from the hard liquor. ¡°Really? Baileys? C¡¯mon Betsy, that is such a girly drink!¡± Sue chortled. ¡°I like it too,¡± Sam said in an effort to defend Betsy. ¡°Too soft, too creamy,¡± Tom commented from the side, his rough face softly illuminated by the dim light of the stars and the moon. ¡°Well, I¡¯d prefer Coke or Pepsi, to be honest,¡± I muttered. ¡°What the heck? Really?¡± Sue asked disbelievingly. ¡°How old are you anyway, Daniel? Are you even legal drinking age? Can¡¯t tell with your skinny appearance¡­ you might be sixteen or thirty-five for all I know.¡± ¡°I am twenty-three!¡± ¡°Twenty fucking three, and you prefer coke?¡± Sue laughed. ¡°When I was your age, I was drunk every weekend and sometimes during the week.¡± ¡°When I was your age?¡± Tom snorted. ¡°That sounds as if you are old. Sue, I hate to break it to you, but you are only twenty-eight, hardly an old woman.¡± ¡°Fuck you, Tom,¡± Sue groused good-naturedly. ¡°At least I am older than this skinny dude in our midst.¡± ¡°Midst? Who uses that word these days?¡± Jimmy chortled. ¡°Are you trying to sound sophisticated? I have even more bad news for you, Sue¡­ that train departed a long time ago. Right about when you first opened your mouth to ask the rest of us to group up.¡± ¡°Fuck you as well, Jimmy.¡± After a minute of silence in which everyone was sipping on their drinks, Ben asked: ¡°So, Daniel, you don¡¯t like Whiskey¡­ what alcohol do you like, if any?¡± ¡°Frankly¡­ I don¡¯t really know much about alcohol. I drank a few beers several years ago, but that is about it. Since then, I haven¡¯t touched the stuff.¡± ¡°How come? You don¡¯t like it?¡± ¡°Well, after I drank those beers, I tried climbing a cliff without a safety harness or ropes, and that didn¡¯t end so well. Lesson learned, I guess.¡± ¡°Ouch, so I am guessing you fell¡­?¡± ¡°Right you are. I was in a wheelchair for the next four years. Hardly in the position to enjoy booze.¡± ¡°The perfect reason to get wasted, in my opinion,¡± Sue threw in. ¡°But to each their own, I suppose. How did they fix you after four years? Some new medical advances?¡± ¡°Magic,¡± I responded without further elaborating. ¡°Magic?¡± ¡°Yup.¡± ¡°C¡¯mon, Daniel, you can¡¯t just dangle those juicy bits in front of our faces¡­¡± ¡°Wait,¡± Ben suddenly said. ¡°No fucking way¡­ don¡¯t tell me¡­ are you that Daniel? The one in the wheelchair? Of course, you are. Shit, I knew that you looked familiar. Why didn¡¯t I recognize you before?¡± ¡°Yeah, that¡¯s me. And I guess I look quite different. The healing took a lot out of me.¡± ¡°So, you didn¡¯t screw with me when you said you had been to Lake Placid in the beginning, huh?¡± Sue said thoughtfully. ¡°Well, I am glad to hear that things worked out. And it must be a great feeling to be walking again, after all those years!¡± Sue raised her cup in the air. ¡°Here is to magic healing!¡± She said, before quaffing her next shot. ¡°Magic can sure do some amazing things, right?¡± Ben wistfully said. ¡°I just wish we would have had mana before.¡± For a few moments, it was quiet, as everyone was contemplating that particular truth, and then Ben began to speak. ¡°I guess I never told you guys about myself... I was driving through Lake Placid, deciding on a whim to make a stop, take a look at the town, and show my kids and wife the Olympic Ski Jumping Complex.¡± Ben chuckled sadly before continuing. ¡°She had cancer, stage four. It was¡­¡± he stopped talking for a moment, and I could hear him swallowing hard. ¡°It was a bit of a goodbye tour if you know what I mean. She had decided to stop the treatment just a couple of weeks earlier. There was no point, she argued, claimed that it just made her feel bad and that she just wanted to spend quality time with the kids and me.¡± Ben began to choke up a bit but continued. ¡°They are, were, ten and eight, respectively. Sarah was the fierce one, always climbing on stuff, running around, screaming like a banshee for no good reason beyond her wanting to scream. John, he was quiet. Always came to hug his mom and me. They were so sweet and innocent, so full of life, so¡­ fuck. I¡­ sorry, I can¡¯t.¡± No one knew what to say, how to react to that kind of tragedy. Everyone had their story, their problems, but this was worse. Finally, as the silence stretched out, becoming uncomfortable, Tom reached over, patted Ben on his leg, and filled his glass with whiskey. ¡°It doesn¡¯t make the pain go away¡­ but it helps for a bit,¡± he said with a rough, gravely voice. ¡°I should know.¡± After a moment, he continued quietly, almost thoughtfully. ¡°I can¡¯t say that my experience compares to yours¡­ but the love of my life, my high school sweetheart, my wife for twenty years, left me for another guy. Some bloke with a fancy car and too much money to fucking care about anyone. And she just¡­ packed up and left, from one day to the next. It came out of fucking left field for me. About three weeks ago, I signed the divorce papers¡­ I quit my job and decided to get out, be by myself somewhere in the wilderness. Just me and my bow. Get back my balance, or¡­ or just, you know, end things. I hadn¡¯t really decided one way or another.¡± Sue leaned over and gave Tom a quick hug. ¡°I am glad that you are here with us. And fuck that bitch!¡± ¡°Don¡¯t call her a bitch,¡± Tom responded, sounding slightly upset. ¡°Fine,¡± Sue said. ¡°Then she is a cunt. That is no way to treat you, Tom. You should stop longing for her. She treated you like shit, as far as I can tell.¡± Tom sighed. ¡°I know. But still, I can¡¯t help it. Maybe you haven¡¯t been in love yet, Sue. Not that love is a matter of age¡­ but once you have found your love, you can¡¯t just pack up and move on, you know?¡± Sue harrumphed. ¡°Fuck love, is what I say. Get some good-looking hunks for booty calls and live life to the fullest. That is my motto.¡± ¡°Nah, I disagree, Sue,¡± Betsy chimed in. ¡°I want more than just sex. I am just off my latest Tinder hook-up, and, predictably, it was another disaster. He was just another guy that was too full of himself, not able to listen, to share, or empathize. He was merely gunning for my tits, I guess. So annoying. He is an academic and once he heard that my father is a hard-working blue-collar, with a nine-to-five job at an assembly line, and my mother runs a cleaning business, he was all arrogant and snobbish, despite me having an engineering degree which probably pays twice what he is earning.¡± ¡°Hah, which just proves my point,¡± Sue shouted. ¡°Guys are useless!¡± ¡°Sue, you do know that four guys are sitting around you, right?¡± Jimmy chuckled. ¡°And?¡± ¡°Well, I mean,¡± Jimmy seemed to flounder for a moment at the blas¨¦ discounting of the men in the room. ¡°Are we all that bad?¡± ¡°Oh, Jimmy¡­¡± Sue said with a giggle. ¡°You are a sweet guy, but not exactly manly, you know?¡± ¡°What is that supposed to mean?¡± Jimmy responded, almost sounding a bit hurt. ¡°And even if your opinion about me is that low, what about the rest?¡± ¡°Ben? Sweet guy, just too¡­ normal, I guess. Like, you know, a forty-year-old white suburban man. Nothing exciting. Too solid, really, to be interesting. A slight stomach pouch, receding hairline. Not a bad catch overall, but I am like twenty-eight.¡± ¡°Thanks for the glowing assessment,¡± Ben responded dryly while patting his tummy thoughtfully. ¡°What about Daniel and Tom,¡± Jimmy said exasperated. ¡°Hey, leave me out of that,¡± I protested, not interested in being eviscerated like that in front of the whole group. I knew my shortcomings and didn¡¯t need to hear them pointed out by that nutty girl. Totally ignoring me, Sue continued. ¡°Daniel¡­ too skinny, somewhat weird, awkward. Magnetic eyes, though. And I like that sinister, mysterious shadow aspect. But, if I was humping him, he would probably just die. So, no. And Tom, well, I Iike Tom. But as we just heard, he is totally mooning over his lost love. Did you know that he didn¡¯t even once stare at my tits? What kind of guy doesn¡¯t at least look?¡± ¡°Well, I like all of you,¡± Betsy chirped. ¡°Really?¡± Jimmy¡¯s voice turned hopeful. ¡°So, -¡° ¡°No.¡± ¡°Ok, I¡­ I mean, I wasn¡¯t going to really ask,¡± Jimmy said with a deflated voice. ¡°Jimmy, just because a woman likes you doesn¡¯t mean that she wants to date you.¡± I had to chuckle at all the, mostly, good-natured ribbing and back and forth. These people were clearly comfortable with each other, and Sue did obviously care about the rest, despite her crass language and rather frank assessment. It was certainly refreshing compared to most other people, who would hide their opinions, only to badmouth others behind their back. Perhaps I felt oddly cheerful because Sue hadn¡¯t outright shredded me. I could live with being somewhat awkward or weird, and the skinny part I would work on soon enough. Not that I necessarily wanted to shag her¡­ well, honestly, I guess I did. Which reminded me of Annie. ¡°So, Ben. I assume that you remember Annie¡­ do you happen to know where she is? I stopped by the bed and breakfast, and there was no sign of anyone having been over there for a few days. Did she move to a different place?¡± ¡°Oh, Annie.¡± There was a pause as Ben seemingly needed to collect his thoughts. ¡°She¡­ searched for you. A lot. She was quite frantic, to be honest. Running around the whole town, talking to people. She even went into the surrounding woods. And then, two days after you had disappeared, she went to Big Pete. She was going to ask about you. And¡­ we never saw her again. We tried looking for her, even went to the bikers. But they claimed that she had never shown up. Eventually, we had to abandon the search, focus on our own survival. People were still disappearing all the time, random monsters and such, you know?¡± I suddenly felt cold inside. It had to have been the bikers. They had done something to her. Maybe imprisoned her. Or worse. I suddenly remembered what John had told me about the woman that had argued with the bikers and then had disappeared. At the time, I had mostly ignored it, treated it as just another side story of an overly loquacious guy. But my gut feeling now told me that the woman had been Annie. I softly put down the glass with whiskey, got up, and moved toward my room without another word, while the rest of the group looked on in quiet commiseration. Chapter 44 - The Ladder I I was devastated. All this time, I had been sure that Annie was somewhere safe, running the show, whipping other people into shape. That was just her - she was a beacon of positivity and a natural leader. But that wasn¡¯t always going to be enough. These were dangerous times. I feared the worst. But as long as I didn¡¯t know for sure one way or another, I was going to assume that she was alive somewhere. And she had always been there for me, so I was going to be there for her. Nothing really changed in my plans overall, but it put some new urgency into the situation. It was time to stop fucking around and go after those bikers. I pulled out a bunch of food and started to mechanically devour as much as I could handle. Whenever I felt that I was getting full, I put, one after another, a point into complex reasoning, spatial awareness, willpower, and two more into perception. I endured the accompanying pain and discomfort stoically, even when I nearly blackened out. No matter what, I was completely and utterly focused on advancing my mental abilities as quickly as possible. After each point invested, I would get up and do squats, crunches, sit-ups, push-ups, and whatever other exercises I could think of doing in the seclusion of my hotel room to push along the recovery of my physical stats as well. Later that night, I finally laid down on the soft mattress, too tired to keep working out, but not able to fall asleep either. Lying on my back, I stared at the blank ceiling, remembering the last few years, my dependency, and the bright, cheery presence of Annie in my life. Had I done enough? Was it too late now? At least, I had made some progress this evening, but this was only the start. Eventually, I managed to relax and finally fell asleep. Early the next morning, I was woken up by the sun shining through the window right into my eyes. At first, I was disoriented, thinking that I was back at the bed and breakfast, that the last two weeks just had been a bad dream, but then the reality came crashing back. And it wasn¡¯t really that everything was terrible. Overall, I enjoyed myself a lot more now than when I had been stuck in my wheelchair, the excitement and thrill of fighting monsters, overcoming the odds again and again was positively addicting. But there was a cost to all of this, and for me, that cost was Annie. If something had happened to her, I didn¡¯t know if I could be happy again. Perhaps that sounded melodramatic, and it probably was, after all, Ben had gone through worse, arguably, and was doing surprisingly fine. But that didn¡¯t change how I felt at the moment. It didn¡¯t help that my head hurt like a bitch from jamming down all those mental points and that the muscles in my body, especially my abs, chest, and ass were screaming in pain. But I clamped down on all the discomfort with an iron fist, determined to push myself as much as humanly possible to become stronger. With a groan, I got up from the bed, and, after a brief trip to the hot and smelly bathroom, stuffed myself with as much food as I could fit into my stomach. I washed down the last crumbs with a half-gallon of water and was ready to start my day. I stepped out into the hallway, careful to not make too much noise. If there was anything I wanted to avoid at this point, it was being bogged down by unnecessary social interaction, making small talk, or having to explain myself. I was on a mission and didn¡¯t want to delay any more than necessary. Outside the morning air was pleasantly fresh, the perfect condition for going for a run. Immediately, I started jogging down the road, breaking into sprints about every hundred yards. After twenty or thirty minutes of doing that, I stopped for a break to do push-ups, squats, lunges, and a few other exercises, before going back to the running routine. Soon, my legs were burning like hell, and every step was becoming pure torture. But I forced myself to keep going. This was something I had to go through if I wanted to become stronger. No pain, no gain! Occasionally, I met a few people, some aimlessly wandering around, others moving with a purpose. But to my surprise, few of them spared me as much as a glance. I mean, there I was, running up and down Main Street like a maniac, and not even dressed in sports clothes. But then I saw the reason for the lack of interest. Up ahead, there was a large group of people doing exactly the same thing as me. Or at least a variation of what I was doing. Not that it looked all that similar ¨C where I was laboring hard to squeeze another sprint out of my exhausted body, these people seemed to be flying almost effortlessly across the asphalt, as if running was part of their DNA. And their speed was mindboggling. Of course, there was the occasional lumbering ox among them as well, but all in all, this looked like a group of people that took working out quite seriously. Curious, I continued forward to take a closer look. Every single one of the people in that group sported some serious muscle, some with bodies that would make any bodybuilder proud, others leaner and faster, like an Olympic sprinter or one of those Kenyan distance runners. The presence of Cobra and Lil¡¯Pope among them made it fairly obvious who I was dealing with ¨C the EFU. Fucking acronyms. But whatever. And these guys, and girls, did look like elite physical specimen. I had no idea how well they could fight, but there was no doubt in my mind that every single one of them was extremely fit. For the most part, the group simply ignored me, barring the occasional glance in my direction when I lingered right outside their area, watching what they were doing. Not that there was anything fancy about it ¨C they were just doing a simple, yet effective workout, with suicide sprints, push-ups and the whole nine yards of strength and speed exercises one might think of. From what I could tell, Lil¡¯Pope was the strongest of the bunch, but it wasn¡¯t by a huge margin. There were another couple of men that were quite close to him in strength and seemed slightly more mobile than the big biker. Cobra, however¡­ he kind of stuck out. There was an elegance to his moves, a sinuous deadliness, that none of the others seemed to be able to match. And while most people exchanged a few words or smiles with others, there was a bubble around Cobra, that none dared, or cared, to burst. Everything about the guy gave the impression of a lone wolf, a killer. I shuddered while leaning against the wall of the Starbucks at the intersection of Main Street and Darcy Street. If, or better, when I was going after the bikers, this guy had to go first. Because I wasn¡¯t going to be able to sleep calmly while he was alive. That was one man who wouldn¡¯t even blink twice before cutting my throat in my sleep. And he could easily pull that off too, the way he looked. Just as I was staring thoughtfully at him, Cobra raised his head, as if he had felt me staring. His searching gaze found me immediately, and his grey eyes seemed to pierce right into me, causing a shiver to run down my spine. He didn¡¯t smile, he didn¡¯t smirk¡­ he didn¡¯t really show any emotion. And that, perhaps, was the scariest part. There was just an empty void where others would display some feeling, be it disdain, dismissal, or elation. No wonder he was the right-hand man of Big Pete ¨C two peas in a pod. Slowly, I did my next set of strength exercises, lost in thought on what to do about the bikers. Until I heard the snickering. I looked up and saw that the whole group of EFU jerks was standing there, looking at me huffing and puffing to do my set of twenty pushups. Some were smirking, others openly laughing. Granted, some of them seemed somewhat indifferent, a couple of them even encouraging. I¡¯d remember those. But the rest seemed just a whole bunch of arrogant assholes. But I didn¡¯t care. Let them think whatever they wanted. I wasn¡¯t here to show off or to impress. I was here to get back into shape. And if anything, their disdain pushed me on. That said, I flipped the finger at them. Just a small act of defiance, because, well, I just couldn¡¯t help it. There was a risk that they would come and beat me up, but whatever. Well worth it. I didn¡¯t have to be worried about it, though, because the only reaction I got was some hooting and laughter, and then the group turned back to its own training, completely ignoring me. The way they reacted even gave me the impression that my small act of defiance had garnered some measure of respect. I could only shake my head. It had been barely two weeks since the transition, and people already had lost some of their basic decency and dignity, acting all arrogant if they had power and subservient and meek if they were weak. Might makes right, or something to that nature. Which was a scary prospect for the future. But then again, maybe this had always been there, just beneath the surface. It wasn¡¯t from nowhere that bullying had become such a big problem in modern society. And trolling. The moment people feel safe from reprisal, they live out their most base instincts - it made them show their true, often callous nature. And the same was true now. Not that everyone was bad. But the way the bikers had taken over initially, with at least tacit permission from the majority of people, and how powerful individuals now seemed to be able to just get their way by using force¡­ that did not bode well for the future. Which made it all the more critical that someone stepped up and put some limits on them. I hoped that it wasn¡¯t me that had to do that. What we needed was a leader, and I wasn¡¯t that. I was more of a loner all in all. Not that I didn¡¯t want to have social interaction¡­ but I couldn¡¯t deal with people-problems that well. So, no. I¡¯d support someone like Ben, though, or Annie. Which turned my focus back on what I had to do. I did another set of suicide sprints, followed by squats and then slowly made my way around town, shaking out my legs. I needed to find the place the bikers used as their base. Obviously, I could have asked someone for directions, but if the bikers started disappearing one after another, I didn¡¯t want any trace pointing my way.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. It took me perhaps another thirty minutes of jogging, with periods of stretching in between, to finally find what I had been looking for ¨C a few bikers standing guard in front of the Holiday Inn further up on Main Street. It was odd to see people with swords just hang around, lazily lounging on some beaten up armchairs they had pulled out of the main lobby of the hotel. As guards, they did a terrible job, utterly oblivious to what was going on. But then again, they didn¡¯t really have to be overly alert. It was in the middle of Lake Placid, a sunny day, and no one was going to challenge them on their home turf. Not that I was going to complain about their lack of zeal. It would make taking out a few of the bikers easier. I spent a few minutes stretching my legs, and back, surreptitiously studying the layout of the hotel and the coming and goings of the bikers. There seemed to be a fair number of them, even more than I recalled having seen before. Probably they had recruited new members into their gang during the last days. Again, more opportunistic behavior. Not that I was surprised. Power was attractive. I also noticed that there was a guard on top of the building that I hadn¡¯t seen before. And that guy was a bit more alert than the others, it seemed. I could feel his eyes drift over me a couple of times, not yet suspicious, but undoubtedly aware of my presence. Of course, one biker on top of a hotel wasn¡¯t going to be able to cover all the approaches to the building. But nonetheless, it added a bit more of a challenge than the fools upfront. Deep in thought, I fingered the teleportation ring on my left ring finger. By now, it seemed to be about fifty percent full, so it might be another day or two until I could use it again. That would be one option to get in there¡­ but the problem was that it wouldn¡¯t get me out again. Not wanting to attract undue attention, I finally began jogging again, trying to get a feel for the rest of the town. Of course, Annie had pushed my wheelchair around town quite a bit, but we mostly had stuck to the main roads, with the shops, businesses, and, well, stuff to see. Obviously, Lake Placid was more than that. But I quickly realized that the inhabited part of Lake Placid was actually relatively small. Most of the more outlying parts of the town had been abandoned, it seemed, and the population had begun to concentrate in the city center. Astoundingly, there was the beginning of a city wall, replete with a walkway behind the parapet, that already blocked off some of the streets. This was a massive change. Was it really that bad? But then again, I could understand. From what Ben had said, there were nightly monster attacks, and people wanted to feel safe, me included. And a proper wall would go a long way toward that goal. But who was building that? And why would they do that? Was there like some type of payment system in place? Otherwise, it seemed unfair that some people got to train their stats and become stronger, whereas others labored in the heat to build walls¡­ Just another thing to figure out. Slowly, I made my way back to the hotel, all the while thinking about ways on how to get inside of the compound of the bikers. It wasn¡¯t enough to pick off bikers in dark alleys one after another, assuming I¡¯d be even able to pull that off¡­ I had to find Annie first and foremost. And I still wasn¡¯t entirely certain that I wanted to just kill all the bikers. Some were real asshats, and I didn¡¯t have too much compunction taking them out. And some were really dangerous, like this Cobra guy. Just going and killing them, though, seemed... extreme, but we lived in a different world now, and I had to face the reality that normal moral constraints were hopelessly outdated. I was aware that I sounded a bit like a hypocrite. One moment, I was complaining about how horrible it was that people behaved opportunistically or used their personal power to get ahead. And then, a few minutes later, I turned around and planned on snuffing out the lives of a bunch of bikers because¡­ because I didn¡¯t like them? Or because I felt threatened and could? Or revenge? It sure sounded petty. And callous. But so what? It wasn¡¯t that I was picking on the weaker. I was taking on a whole fucking gang because they had wronged me, because they had probably taken Annie, and because they were just pushing their weight around making everyone¡¯s life miserable. It was late morning by the time I got back to the High Peaks Resort, and the others were sitting around in the lobby, reading books, or just dozing off in the warm air that drifted into the building. ¡°Hey Daniel, what¡¯s happening?¡± Ben asked as I came in. ¡°Eww, you are drenched in sweat,¡± Sue complained the moment she saw me, speaking almost at the same time as Ben. ¡°Well, I was working out, instead of chilling,¡± I shot back defensively. Somehow, Sue knew how to hit my buttons. I didn¡¯t know how or why¡­ but I felt defensive all the time around her. Yet, I was oddly attracted too, which made for a somewhat awkward balancing act in my reactions. ¡°Some of us, Jimmy excepted, have plenty of muscles, Daniel. So, unlike you, we can afford to relax a bit and read a fantastic book,¡± Sue responded, widely grinning while flashing the cover of a cheap romance novel, which showed a muscled, half-naked hunk of a guy holding a skinny, lightly clad woman in his arms. Before I could come up with a suitable response, Ben got up from his chair and said: ¡°Either way, perfect timing, Daniel. It is almost noon, I figure, so we should go to the Best Western for the contributions.¡± ¡°The what?¡± ¡°The contributions¡­ you didn¡¯t think that people just worked their hearts out or hunt monsters because of the goodness of their heart, right?¡± ¡°Well¡­ I wa-,¡± I began to say when Sue barged into the conversation. ¡°He fucking did! I knew it!¡± ¡°No, I-.¡± ¡°It¡¯s ok, Daniel,¡± Sue said in a condescending tone that grated on my nerves more than anything else she had done before. ¡°Of course, you would think that everyone is altruistic.¡± She walked out the front door, pearling laughter trailing after her, as I was left sputtering in outrage. Jimmy clapped me on my shoulders as he walked out. ¡°Get used to it.¡± Shaking my head, I followed the others down the street, curious to see what this was all about. Clearly, it was some type of reward system, but I did wonder how this could be operationalized. Would people just state their accomplishments and then get rewards based on that? Was there some lie detector that prevented cheating? Or did people have to bring some trophies back as proof of what they had done? Labor was easy enough to measure, at least as long as it wasn¡¯t effort that was evaluated but output. And even effort¡­ one could measure hours of work put in or something like that. As we got closer, I could see a massive crowd of people milling around the Best Western Motel, many chatting excitedly with other folks, some standing quietly, waiting for¡­ something. And what they had been waiting for became clear soon enough. A man dressed in well-made armor stepped out from the Best Western with a large purple crystal in his right hand, and a blue crystal in his left hand. Right behind him was a man that dwarfed even the giant Lil¡¯Pope. He was fucking ginormous ¨C eight feet, arms the size of my waist, and weighing in at around six or seven hundred pounds at a guess. And he carried a heavy table as if it was a child¡¯s toy, with a box balanced on top of it. Once the giant had put down the desk, the other guy placed the crystals on top, took a step back and raised his hands. As if he had cast a magic spell, the crowd around the parking lot immediately turned quiet, waiting for the man to speak. ¡°Greetings, Placidians. Another week has passed, and it is time to assess contributions. By now, you all know the procedure. Crafters, workers, hunters, and guards put your hands on the purple crystal and state your contributions in hours of work or results achieved. Let¡¯s avoid the unpleasantries of lying. Those of you who have risked their lives killing monsters or otherwise accumulated mana, transfer your contributions to the I¡¯tisch League of Cities and then place your hands on the blue crystal.¡± Right after the man was done, he stepped back behind the table and motioned for people to line up. People jostled a bit for position, but overall, people were surprisingly well behaved. Perhaps the reason was the giant who glared at anyone who started to make trouble, which shut them down instantly. Even the bikers didn¡¯t cause a scene and took up position in the line just like everyone else. ¡°Jimmy, what does it mean to transfer your contribution points?¡± I whispered as we entered the line relatively far at the back. ¡°You call up the ladder and will your contribution toward the faction that you are supporting¡­¡± Jimmy said matter of fact as if this was the most normal thing in the world. ¡°Uhm, like how and what is that ladder you are talking about?¡± ¡°Ladder, like in ranking¡­ and you just think ¡®ladder¡¯ and think of, well, the ladder¡­ and then it should appear in your vision. Same as with the character screen and explanations of skills and such,¡± Jimmy explained patiently as we shuffled closer to the crystals. Well, fuck, that would have been nice to know. Not that it would have benefited me a whole lot. But still. I wondered if the elves were on there too. What about the gars and weyrs¡­ were they a faction? And¡­ ¡°Jimmy, so¡­ what does that do?¡± ¡°What do you mean by ¡®that¡¯?¡± ¡°Like, the contributions, ladder position and all that,¡± I explained, my voice probably reflecting my confusion. ¡°So, remember how I mentioned that all of this was just one giant competition to see who would get control of the new land and the dungeon? Well, this is it. Whoever ends up in the top spot of the ladder position at some point, wins the race. When that is, and how many points we are talking, I have no idea.¡± ¡°So how do contribution points factor in, and what are they?¡± I asked. ¡°Basically, the mana you have accumulated,¡± Jimmy explained. I was horrified. ¡°You mean, you are giving up your mana.¡± Jimmy only chuckled. ¡°Oh no, no one would be going for that¡­ but it is a fair worry, I had the same fear the first time. You keep the mana. All the system does is give credit to some faction on how much you have achieved. One for one with the mana you have collected. And that is important. It isn¡¯t how much mana you have incorporated into your cycle, but how much raw mana you have obtained. I¡¯m sure you are familiar with the horrible conversion rate of mana if it isn¡¯t the color of your core.¡± ¡°Hell yes, I fucking hate it,¡± I groused, before focusing my mind on the ladder screen. I had to see it for myself. Now that I knew that such a thing existed, it was easy enough to call it up.
Faction Ranking
The Brood 1
Darkalves 2
Gormod 3
Azkeron 4
Albar 5
Mountain Alliance 6
I¡¯tisch League of Cities 7
The Ovgard Conglomerate 8
Havenoord 9
Troll4Love 10
2BR8 11
The John! 12
Reach4the*s 13
Now, that was interesting. A larger than expected number of factions and the I¡¯tisch League of Cities ranked closer to the bottom than to the top. And then there were those four at the bottom¡­ ¡°Jimmy, what is up with those last four factions?¡± ¡°Hah, some people thought it was funny to declare their own faction. Quite pointless, but I suppose that doesn¡¯t matter to the trolls.¡± ¡°So, the second to last, is that¡­?¡± ¡°Yup, our very own John. Everyone knows him. I take it you have run across him already?¡± I just nodded while my thoughts churned around my head. This might be a way forward. From what the others had said, the I¡¯tisch League of Cities wasn¡¯t half bad, but it still was an overlord that was going to tell us what to do. Supposedly one could earn citizenship years down the road, but until then, if one of the full citizens said to jump, you¡¯d better be ready to do so. And I wasn¡¯t really keen on being on such a tight leash. ¡°Jimmy, what is in it for us? Why do people contribute points? Why work and declare their contributions?¡± Jimmy pointed toward the table. ¡°Well, it¡¯s getting started, so you can see for yourself. Chad is about ready to announce the first results.¡± Chapter 44 - The Ladder II And indeed, the first person, a man in sturdy clothes, carrying a solid ax, stepped up to the table and put his hands first on the purple crystal and then on the blue crystal, before stepping back, grinning in anticipation. The man that had brought the crystals, apparently that was Chad, took a look at the gems and then announced in a carrying voice: ¡°Blue ten; Purple ten. Four silver coins.¡± He then took out a few softly glowing coins from the box on the table and handed them to the man at the head of the line, before motioning for the next person to step up. A woman with a tightly pinched face and a perpetual-looking frown moved to the table and put her slender hands on the purple crystal only. After a moment, Chad announced: ¡°Blue 0; Purple 13. Two silver coins and 6 copper coins.¡± Doing some quick math in my head, it seemed as if things followed the standard roleplaying rules of copper coins as a lower denomination, and silver above that. I presumed that gold was the next one above that. Each point, which in the case of the blue crystal, was likely the number of mana, translated into two copper coins, with ten copper coins equivalent to one silver coin. Which meant that the coins I had found in my bag of holding were a fortune. Unless Chad severely underpaid everyone for their labor. Which was a possibility, but I had no way to find out at this point. And, at least compared to everyone else in Lake Placid, I had no real need to donate points to the I¡¯tisch League of Cities for money¡­ ¡°Jimmy, what can you use these coins for?¡± ¡°Like to buy stuff? Duh. No one accepts dollars any longer. Most things are managed centrally by Chad¡­ so if people hunt or harvest stuff, they deliver what they get to the Best Western. And they have spells for sale too¡­ which really is what everyone is gunning for. Food is still freely available from the various abandoned houses around Lake Placid, the same for clothes. But weapons and spells, that is what we are all saving up for.¡± ¡°And how much is a sword, for example?¡± ¡°About five to eight silver for a crude one and several gold coins for something fancy.¡± I scratched my head at those numbers. So the first two people I had seen would have to work for roughly two weeks to afford a simple sword. That seemed like a lot. From what I recalled, an average sword could be forged in a couple of days, perhaps three, assuming that the metal was available. However, the smith presumably was more specialized and trained than some random forager and needed to be compensated for that¡­ plus there was the material costs of the raw material and the required forging equipment. Considering all that, perhaps five silver wasn¡¯t really all that much. As the line moved ahead, I saw that most people received right about four or five silver coins for the week, but there were some clear outliers. A few people only got one silver coin or even less, and they were clearly unhappy about it, based on the glares they shot at Chad and his giant companion. And then there were some who received a full gold coin or even more, indicating that they had earned at least fifty mana during the last seven days ¨C a respectable number. And then the EFU showed up. Instead of waiting in line, like the rest of us, they pushed their way through to the front. And no one even blinked twice. What the fuck? I looked at the others around me, and while I saw a few people scowling, no one made a move to protest. I couldn¡¯t believe it. I thought this was the United Fucking States of America! Where people stand up against that type of shit. But I guess I shouldn¡¯t have been that surprised. Back when the bikers had killed Mike, no one had really lifted a finger either. Pragmatism over principles, I supposed. And I got it. I probably should keep my mouth shut too. ¡°Hey, asshats. The end of the line is over there!¡± I shouted. Immediately, every movement stopped, and plenty of heads turned my direction, staring at the moron that had dared to raise his voice. ¡°Shit, Daniel, what the heck? Let¡¯s go,¡± Jimmy whispered urgently from my side, trying to pull me away from the line, clearly intending to escape. I wasn¡¯t having any of that. ¡°I am not going to have some wannabe elitist pricks walk all over me,¡± I said loudly enough for everyone to hear my words. ¡°Guys, it¡¯s the skinny loser from this morning,¡± one of the guys in the EFU cackled. ¡°You¡¯ve gotta give him credit¡­ he has balls, even though his brain is sadly underdeveloped.¡± ¡°Hey, you, Jimmy, right? You better get him away from here, before one of us uses him as a punching bag,¡± a smirking girl in a tight pink and brown sports-outfit said. I was about to shout something snarky when Sue raised her voice. ¡°Fuck off, Nancy,¡± she snarled while stepping protectively in front of me. ¡°He belongs to us, and if you try to rough him up, you¡¯ll have to deal with us first. He has twice the balls of any of your fucking EFU boys.¡± ¡°Sue, just keep qu-.¡± ¡°Shut up, Jimmy. I meant what I said. If they try to mess with Daniel, I¡¯m going to bust their asses.¡± ¡°Sue, you are such a stupid bitch,¡± Nancy laughed. ¡°Are you still upset about not being good enough for making the EFU? Let me try to recall¡­ oh, yes, you weren¡¯t able to actually hit that monster, right? Too weak. All talk and bluster, no action.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll show you action, alright,¡± Sue growled as she moved forward. Immediately, a good half of the EFU stepped closer to Nancy, some of them fingering the hilts of their weapons as they stared warily at us. They seemed ready to escalate things at any moment. What the fuck had happened? Where people like brainwashed? This was unbelievable¡­ at least the other half of the EFU looked uncomfortable as they witnessed the rapid deterioration of the situation. The glances they shared, indicated that they clearly weren¡¯t ready to jump in and duke it out with their fellow Placidians over skipping a line. Kudos to them. At least there was some decency left there. On Sue¡¯s side, Tom, Ben, and Betsy stepped forward, somewhat resigned, but without hesitation. A moment later, Jimmy cursed, let go of my sleeve, and stepped up as well. Which left me behind them, somewhat befuddled over what had happened so quickly. Was my comment going to lead to bloodshed? For the moment, each side stared at the other, trying to project confidence and resolve. Only that the EFU did a better job at it. We just didn¡¯t have the impressive muscle on our side, or anyone exuding the dangerous vibe of someone like Cobra. We were a group of ordinary folks, mostly, with some flab on our bodies, a mix of scavenged gear, and much less of a swagger. The EFU¡­ model athletes every single one of them. Not that they were all pretty¡­ but they were lean, with sculpted muscles, some bulky, some endurance, or speed based. A far cry from what we sported. And then Nancy decided to make another snark comment. ¡°Look at how they are protecting that skinny wuss hiding behind their backs.¡± ¡°That¡¯s it, bitch,¡± Sue snarled, and immediately exploded into action. Supported by a strong gust of wind, she rushed forward at incredible speed and rammed her fist into Nancy¡¯s openly flaunted abs. The impact was audible several steps back, as was the woosh of Nancy losing her breath as she bent over and dropped to her knees. The reaction was immediate and violent. All around, people rushed forward, screaming, ready to pound each other to a pulp. Luckily, no drawn weapons yet, but I thought it was just a matter of time. While jumping to the side to avoid one guy running at me like a speed train, I glanced around, trying to gauge the reaction of people around us. Was there anyone that would give us a hand? Anyone ready to stand up for what was right? Of course, by now it was questionable who was in the right¡­ I had called them out for skipping the line, but Sue had escalated from words to physical action. Fuck. And then I was double-teamed by two guys trying to hit and kick me. And despite the stressful situation, I had to almost cackle in delight at feeling the improvement in my perception do some serious work. I knew where and how they were going to kick or punch. And with my spatial awareness, I was always on top of things, ready to twist and turn slightly to deflect their strikes. So while not exactly easy to keep them back, I mostly held my own, doling out more than I was receiving. It might have been a different story with real weapons and their superior strength, speed, and agility, but just with fists, a few glancing strikes here or there weren¡¯t going to take me out. But it was just a matter of time before I would run out of steam. And the rest of my group didn¡¯t fare nearly as well as I did. Tom had managed to head-butt one guy in the face, breaking his nose, but someone else had used the opportunity to tackle him to the ground, and now both guys piled onto him. Betsy was fighting against one girl, but she was weaker, slower, less agile¡­ all around inferior. She tried pelting her opponent with some water constructs, but that was woefully ineffective. Sue, meanwhile, was on top of Nancy, engaged in a real catfight. Both of them pulling hair, biting, scratching, having seemingly entirely forgotten that they were much stronger now than they had ever been before. Which made for a pretty spectacular yet odd-looking fight. Lastly, Ben and Jimmy were each attacked by two EFU members and looked pretty bloodied and bruised already, even after only a minute of fighting. Things were just about to get nasty when suddenly the temperature dropped precipitously, and we were pelted with hundreds of little ice crystals that were painful but didn¡¯t cause any injuries. For a brief moment, all of the action ceased, and then the giant that had accompanied Chad walked into the middle of the fight. One by one, he grabbed the combatants and tossed them like rag dolls out of the fighting areas, the EFU toward their remaining members that had not participated in the fight and our group in the other direction.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. The first one to be so tossed was Sue, and she was almost comically squeaking when she was airborne, before grunting in pain as she slammed on the concrete. In quick succession, it hit Tom, Betsy, and Ben as well, by which time everyone remaining had seen the writing on the wall and backed away voluntarily. How the fuck was this guy so strong? And it wasn¡¯t just strength¡­ he was quick too. My musings were interrupted by Chad clearing his voice. ¡°So well, that was entertaining, but I¡¯m not looking forward to standing around forever. ¡°You,¡± he turned toward us, ¡°are expelled from the proceedings until further notice. Don¡¯t bother to come back next week, either.¡± ¡°The rest of you¡­ get back in line, and let¡¯s get this shitshow over with.¡± With a sidelong glance at me, he added, ¡°EFU has priority as befitting their station. If you don¡¯t like it, become a part of the EFU and set your own rules.¡± Well, shit. I had done it. Kind of. I mean, Sue had escalated things, but I had instigated the situation. And now everyone in the group had suffered the consequences. And by their hanging heads, they didn¡¯t take it too well. And I got it. Having access to better equipment and spells was going to make a massive difference in the upcoming fights. Personally¡­ I hadn¡¯t planned on donating my contribution points to anyone else anyway. What the fuck did I care if the I¡¯tisch League of Cities won the competition or not? Granted, they were probably better than those fucking elves. But surely, some of the other factions were equally good, or bad, as the I¡¯tisch League of Cities. So fuck them all. Let them duke it out between each other. Mutely and dejectedly, we trotted back to the hotel, the mood utterly destroyed. I tried to come up with something to say, but I drew a blank. Apologizing seemed wrong, mainly because I didn¡¯t really feel like what I had done was wrong. Granted, the outcome had not been what I had wished, but that was at least as much Sue¡¯s fault as it was mine. But what if¡­ I called up the ladder again and then thought about adding a name to the list. What should I call it? Daniel¡¯s faction? No, probably not. I didn¡¯t fancy the idea of being that easily identifiable. Plus that sounded plain stupid. So something a bit more heroic perhaps? The Avengers? Justice League? Not bad, even though it sounded a bit like a copycat. And probably off-putting for some people. United States of Earth? That sounded better. But why not then United Nations of Earth? Then again, both sounded like a democracy, which I wasn¡¯t sure if it was the right way to move forward. As much as I liked democracy as a concept, it depended on the right people in the population and the need for fast and immediate action. So far¡­ it almost seemed as having a non-elected leadership, perhaps a meritocracy was the way to go. Or Emperor Daniel! Well, no. Not really my interest. So¡­ just Earth. Short, concise, somewhat lame, but easily identifiable for other people from Earth that might have been transferred here and understood some basic English. Or perhaps The Earth Alliance? Not sure about an alliance with whom, but it had a better ring to it. As I focused my thoughts on the words and envisioned it part of the ladder, I could feel something. I wasn¡¯t sure what exactly. It was kind of like¡­ a tether? A featherlight connection? A moment later, the name The Earth Alliance appeared on the screen at the very bottom of the table.
Faction Ranking
The Brood 1
Darkalves 2
Gormod 3
Azkeron 4
Albar 5
Mountain Alliance 6
I¡¯tisch League of Cities 7
The Ovgard Conglomerate 8
Havenoord 9
Troll4Love 10
2BR8 11
The John! 12
Reach4the*s 13
The Earth Alliance 14
I allowed a brief smile on my face. The Earth Alliance was dead last, but that would change in a few moments. I had no idea how many points these factions were able to put into their ladder standing, but on an individual basis, I thought it was highly unlikely that it could compete with my tally for the last couple of weeks. And maybe I could entice others to join in and try to compete for a higher position up the ladder. I wasn¡¯t sure it was realistic to try and win the whole thing, but if we didn¡¯t even try, we¡¯d for sure lose our independence. And I wouldn¡¯t be able to look into a mirror if I didn¡¯t at least attempt to secure an independent future. More pragmatically, I thought that there might be some advantages from a higher ranking on the ladder, perhaps some benefits that were going to be doled out on a weekly basis or maybe just at the very end. To start off¡­ I could help out the others for this week. I had plenty of money and felt that they had stood up for me against the EFU, something that perhaps had backfired spectacularly, but was appreciated, nonetheless. ¡°Guys, how about this¡­ I¡¯m going to pay you what you would have earned¡­,¡± I said into the silence that was covering the group like a heavy blanket in the lobby of the hotel. ¡°Just forget it, Daniel. No need to cheer us up. We did what was right,¡± Ben said quietly. ¡°And greenbacks are worth shit by now, so you wouldn¡¯t be able to give us any meaningful money anyway.¡± I reached into my bag of holding and summoned a bunch of silver coins. ¡°There you¡¯re wrong, my friend,¡± I said while dumping the coins onto the table in the middle. ¡°Five mana equals a silver coin, correct? Just give The Earth Alliance credit, and you¡¯ll get the money.¡± When I saw the expression on their faces, I burst out laughing. ¡°You see? Things aren¡¯t all that bad.¡± ¡°What the heck, Daniel, how do you have so much money?¡± Ben asked after having recovered his ability to speak. ¡°This is a fortune!¡± Betsy stared at the coins and then at me. ¡°You would just give that to us? Why?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll take it,¡± Sue barged in, reaching for some of the coins. ¡°I have twenty-two mana¡­ so that is four silver and four copper. Since you don¡¯t have copper coins, I¡¯ll take another silver and return the change to you later.¡± Before Sue could just take the money, I put my hand on top of the coins. ¡°You have to transfer those points, though.¡± ¡°Sure, sure, no worries. I was going to do it in a sec. What faction did you say? Earth Alliance? I don¡¯t think I have seen that one before.¡± ¡°No wonder, I just created it,¡± I responded while taking my hands off the coins. ¡°But why?¡± Betsy repeated her question. I struggled for a moment to come up with a good response. Because, honestly, there were multiple dimensions to my answer, and I wasn¡¯t sure if I was ready to share all of them. There was the fact that I wanted to help out my new friends, but not with a gift, more like a transaction that was beneficial for them. I didn¡¯t believe in handouts, I wanted to earn my rewards. And I thought they might think the same way. But there was also the idea of perhaps pushing The Earth Alliance higher up in the ranking and eclipsing the I¡¯tisch League of Cities and some of the others¡­ for whatever it was worth. And lastly, less logical, and more emotional, I wanted to make a statement, wanted to demonstrate that people from the US, and more generally from Earth were not just pushovers, that we would stand up for ourselves and fight, even if, perhaps, it was a losing battle. In the end, I just said: ¡°I felt bad for causing you all to lose your earnings because of me not being able to keep my trap shut. And I think there might be benefits to being higher up on the ladder. Just a hunch. In the worst case, I am giving some coins to people I like¡­ and in the best case, I am actually gaining some benefit from that.¡± Tom shook his head, but went ahead and grabbed a few coins, equivalent to about thirty mana, and then one after another, the rest followed suit. ¡°Excellent,¡± I said while rubbing my hands. ¡°Now, I just have to put in my own points, and we¡¯ll see where that gets us.¡± ¡°Well,¡± Jimmy said with a grin, ¡°so far you managed to eclipse a whole four others, namely The John, Troll4Love, 2BR8, and Reach4the*s. Well done!¡± I ignored Jimmy as I focused my attention on the ladder. As I thought about contributing, I didn¡¯t see, but¡­ felt the precise amount of contribution points I could add. I had collected a grand total of 870 mana over the last week. A huge number, but not nearly everything, because, to my surprise, there was also a huge bonus for being the first to complete the first level of the dungeon, amounting to another one thousand points. Holy shit. That was probably as much as Placidians as a whole had collected this past week! Eagerly, but also with some trepidation, wondering if I just was making a huge mistake, I dumped all my points into The Earth Alliance faction. And the results were immediate.
Faction Ranking
The Brood 1
Gormod 2
Azkeron 3
Darkalves 4
Albar 5
I¡¯tisch League of Cities 6
Mountain Alliance 7
The Earth Alliance 8
The Ovgard Conglomerate 9
Havenoord 10
Troll4Love 11
2BR8 12
The John! 13
Reach4the*s 14
The Earth Alliance had moved up from dead last a few minutes ago to 8th place. Not earth-shattering, especially considering that the last four positions were basically fake factions, but I had almost single-handedly overtaken two real factions with my huge contribution. During the last hour, a few other changes had taken place as well, such as the Darkalves dropping a couple of spots, and the Mountain Alliance falling further down, so factions weren¡¯t apart by huge margins, and there was hope for catching someone else. Then again, I had received a considerable leg-up from completing the first level of the dungeon first, so that was not something I could count on again. And chances were that without that, I would still be sitting on the 10th spot, instead of 8th. ¡°What¡­ what just happened?¡± Jimmy asked incredulously, staring into empty space, clearly looking at a screen that was invisible to all but himself. ¡°Why, what is going on?¡± Ben asked, suddenly tense. Betsy, Sue, and Tom leaned forward, worried that something had gone wrong. ¡°The Earth Alliance, just¡­ I can¡¯t believe this. It just went from 10th place to 8th place. This is incredible. And look,¡± Jim pointed into the air straight ahead, ¡°There is a new entry in the individual ladder contributions, right underneath the Brood Mother.¡± ¡°Jimmy, we can¡¯t see any of that, so quit fucking gesticulating like that,¡± Sue grumbled distractedly while apparently pulling up her own screen to check on things herself. ¡°It just shows a bunch of random symbols. What the heck?¡± Ben turned to me. ¡°Daniel, do you have allies somewhere that contributed points? How is this possible? This must have been¡­ at least a thousand points. And who is that person on the individual ladder? Someone you have met in the wilderness? Another foreigner, perhaps?¡± Shit, I had never considered that there might be another ladder out there. I quickly looked at it and saw that there indeed was Brood Mother on 1st position and then a bunch of symbols on 2nd place¡­ and I felt the same tether that I had felt going to the ladder also connected me to that name. But to my disappointment, nothing much beyond that happened. No sudden riches were dropping into my lap, no surge in mana, nothing. Ah, well, it had been worth a shot. And, then again¡­ it was like two in the afternoon. Perhaps the cutoff was at midnight? So maybe good things were still to come. In the meantime, I decided to fess up about finishing the dungeon first. At least, it was a credible explanation for the number of points, so I didn¡¯t have to divulge more details on my experience with the weyr swarm. At first, the others thought I was trying to mess with them. But once I changed the name on the individual ladder, at the insistence of Sue, to ¡®SkinnyDude,¡¯ they were finally convinced. While the others started arguing about the implications of this for the future, I excused myself to get back to what I really needed to do ¨C push my body to its physical limits to build up my physical stats as quickly as possible. I hadn¡¯t forgotten my short-term goal of dealing with the bikers and finding Annie but just had added some long-term aspirations to my to-do list. The rest of the day passed in a blur, with physical workout, stretching, and stuffing myself all blending together into a hell of pain and suffering. But I could feel changes taking place in my body. The adjustment was almost real-time, and I couldn¡¯t wait to see what I¡¯d have accomplished by the end of the day. Chapter 45 - Parkour ¡°So, what do you think, Deklajan?¡± Chad asked. ¡°We are getting there,¡± the brown-haired, tanned looking man, with a tonsure-like haircut answered slowly. ¡°As expected, The Brood is still on top, but should soon be slowing down significantly, since it will have consumed all of its resources. The same for the Darkalves, only that there we already see a drop-off. Somewhat surprisingly, really¡­ some calamity must have befallen their expedition members. Otherwise, I cannot explain this sudden drop. Or¡­¡± ¡°Or what?¡± ¡°Did you check on the individual ladder?¡± Chad quickly pulled up the screen to check for himself and then cursed. ¡°So that explains it¡­ I still don¡¯t understand why Du¡¯Andrazzil would declare its own faction, especially one called ¡®The Earth Alliance.¡¯¡± Golgiat cleared his throat. ¡°Is it possible that it is siding with a transferred earth realm?¡± ¡°It¡¯s possible,¡± Chad admitted. ¡°But I don¡¯t really see the point. There must be some internal politics going on that we don¡¯t know about. Maybe there is some shift in policy in the Gi¡¯Andorath faction¡­ Either way, clearly, Du¡¯Andrazzil has found the dungeon and completed the first level; otherwise, there is no way it could have collected that many points. The second rank, just behind the Brood Mother and, from what I remember, Du¡¯Andrazzil is not even an expert yet¡­¡± After a moment, Chad continued. ¡°Perhaps this is a power play to establish its own realm without taking out the Panriarch¡­ but why so early? No, something is going on that we don¡¯t know about. How about the rest, Deklajan?¡± ¡°Gormod is doing its thing. I expect them to slow down, once their aggressive approach takes its toll. It all depends on how much the Gorma decided to invest in this realm. Based on historical evidence, it probably isn¡¯t that much.¡± ¡°But that hasn¡¯t always been true,¡± Golgiat added from the side. ¡°During the drought of 945 GW, the Gorma provided the expedition with tremendous resources.¡± ¡°True, it¡¯s possible that this is the case here as well,¡± Deklajan admitted. ¡°But those were special times. There is no drought now, and from everything that I have heard Gormod has entered another fragmented phase¡­ no, the country I am most concerned about right now is Azkeron. If they have managed to subjugate the population of their shard, they will be a force to be reckoned with.¡± Chad turned toward the somewhat disinterested-looking Bree-Ann and Jak¡¯lo. ¡°Have we found any sign of their location so far?¡± ¡°What?¡± Bree-Ann looked up, surprised at being put on the spot. Jak¡¯lo giggled a bit in his high-pitched voice, before responding. ¡°Don¡¯t ask the meathead, she is reveling in the memories of how she fried that Gharstbear¡¯s brain this morning. But the answer is no. We have seen traces of ¡®The Brood¡¯, and the Albarnese, but nothing of the others so far. That said, we haven¡¯t explored too widely either, so far.¡± ¡°What?¡± Chad almost shouted, while the temperature in the small room suddenly plummeted. ¡°We are next to ¡®The Brood,¡¯ and you didn¡¯t think to tell me right away? What kind of moron are you?¡± ¡°Relax,¡± Jak¡¯lo smirked, while at the same time letting flames dance around his body to stave off the cold. ¡°We only saw a trace, and it moved toward another shard. ¡®The Brood¡¯ will be busy over there for a while, and we can prepare some surprises for them in the meantime.¡± Chad had to visibly control himself but knew by now that nothing was to be gained by losing patience with Jak¡¯lo, or Bree-Ann for that matter. They were both battle-hungry, and, more often than not, batshit crazy. Chad circulated a small dose of ice-cold mana through his blood to calm himself down and turned toward Golgiat. ¡°So what about the altercation today.¡± ¡°Not bad. I was waiting for someone to stand up to the top group. So far, the rest has been rather spineless. I haven¡¯t seen the runt before, but he has spirit at least.¡± ¡°How about the fight? What do you think?¡± ¡°Well, mostly inept,¡± Golgiat grunted somewhat dismissively. ¡°It was a bit disconcerting that the EFU, as they call themselves,¡± Golgiat chuckled for a moment, ¡°had so much trouble with that group while having twice the people.¡± ¡°Anyone stick out?¡± ¡°The usual suspects. Cobra, didn¡¯t engage in the fight, but he was ready to move in and stab someone, which is why I broke things up right there. Lil¡¯Pope is strong but can¡¯t hit shit. The real surprise, though, was that skinny guy.¡± ¡°You noticed it too?¡± Chad asked with a smile. ¡°I was wondering if I was just imagining things.¡± ¡°No, he was good. Not so much with his fists. There he was pathetic. But his vision, and ability to read what his opponents were going to do was excellent. He has been in fights, even though he didn¡¯t look the part,¡± Golgiat confirmed. ¡°Let¡¯s keep an eye on him,¡± Chad confirmed before wrapping things up. ¡°Let¡¯s speed up the construction of the wall. I¡¯ve heard reports about a large tribe of Gars in the area, and if ¡®The Brood¡¯ is close by, I don¡¯t want to take any risks. Also, keep an eye out for a weyr super swarm.¡± ------------------------------------------------------- Finally! I was done. The sun was beginning to set, and that was the sign for me to stop torturing myself. Slowly, I made my way back to the hotel. And I had thought that changing my mental stats was painful. Right now, I figured that I¡¯d rather sit on a comfy armchair and have ants crawl through my brain than move my legs for another foot. But that is how it usually is¡­ the current pain is always worse ¨C psychology 101. And there was no way to avoid it either. At one point during the day, I had the smart idea of healing myself, but I quickly realized that doing so was counterproductive. Sure, I could fix a host of little muscle tears, but all I did was negate the effort of the previous one or two hours of pushing myself. When I had realized what I had done, I had cursed violently for several minutes, before calming down enough to restart my workout program. And no matter what I had achieved today, it wasn¡¯t nearly where I wanted to be. I had not even attempted to work on my agility and dexterity yet, not to speak of skills and spells. With a sigh, I dragged myself up the stairs to my room, slightly wincing whenever I had to lift my feet. Tomorrow¡­ tomorrow I¡¯d focus on those other things and give my muscles time to recover. Neither looking left nor right, I went straight to my room, barely managing to undress before falling into the bed. I was fucking exhausted. With the last shreds of energy, I called up the status screen to see what I had achieved by torturing myself for twelve hours straight.
Name Daniel Hollander Rank Initiate 9
Title: Mental Bastion (Mental Defense x2) First Initiate (Mana Recovery x2) Army of One (V +20%) Against the Mighty II (St +25%) Transformer (1:5) Droghul¡¯s Disciple (+Healing/Kill)
Strength: 11.25 [+3] Intuitive Reasoning: 15 Mana Free Current Potential
Agility: 8 Complex Reasoning: 18 [+1] Silver 0 94 94
Speed: 8 [+2] Emotional Intelligence: 9 Black 0 125 125
Dexterity: 7 Perception: 18 [+4] Amber 0 94 94
Endurance: 11 [+2] Spatial Awareness: 22 [+1] Red 0 94 94
Vitality: 10.8 [+2] Willpower: 22 [+1] Yellow 4 0 0
Available characteristic points: 23 [-7]
Spells
Mana Vision Level 14 Twilight Vision Level 2
Minor Healing Level 10 Shadow Skin Level 5
Shadow Sense Level 1 Midnight Skin Level 3
Partial Incorporeality Level 2 Aura of Droghul Level 3
Higrom¡¯s Touch Level 3
Available spell points: 26
Skills
Mental Ward Level 8 Mental Fortitude Level 12
Multitasking Level 6 Internal Mana Manipulation Level 8
Meditation Level 6 External Mana Manipulation Level 4
Enhanced Mana Recovery Level 2 Sword Fighting Level 10
Available skill points: 10
A grand total of +9 in physical stats plus some additional bonuses from my titles for a long day of work. Not bad. That said¡­ I had achieved similar results from just walking around right after I had just recovered from being paralyzed. But that only gave credence to my suspicion that initial gains were easier to come by. The more significant the discrepancy between the image of my body and my current state, the faster the magical retransformation. Before calling it a day, I also decided to take another look at the leaderboard, or ladder, just to make sure that I hadn¡¯t been overtaken during the last ten hours by some freak.
Name Rank
Brood Mother 1
Du¡¯AndrazzilYou could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. 2
Borghost 3
Ro¡¯amash 4
Simurania 5
Azania 6
Izt¡¯Kocruxian 7
And¡¯amash 8
Bron¡¯amash 9
Jak¡¯lo 10
Luckily, I was still there, second place, even though it felt somewhat disconcerting to see Du¡¯Andrazzil¡¯s name instead of something closer related to me. But I had figured that SkinnyDude, funny as it was for Sue, was not the most inconspicuous term. Not that there weren¡¯t many skinny dudes around, but I didn¡¯t have to provide more information than strictly needed. The Earth Alliance was telling enough. And if I could mislead some people into going after one of those elves, dead as he was, even better for me and everyone else. No one needed freaking vampires around. I briefly wondered what kind of powerhouse the Brood Mother was to take the first spot even though I had more than doubled my already excessive points for the week by completing the first level of the dungeon. You had to kill like¡­ I don¡¯t know, one hundred strong monsters each day? That was fucking insane. But whatever, I wasn¡¯t going to mess with anyone like that for the time being, perhaps ever. Even just seeing Golgiat move into the little scuffle we had had earlier made me again realize how much of a difference there was between high-powered individuals and bottom feeders like us. That said¡­ I had a ton of flexibility that few others could match if anyone. So maybe I shouldn¡¯t undersell myself. On those positive thoughts, I closed my eyes and drifted into a deep sleep. Only to be woken up by an annoying little jolt that jerked me upright for a moment. What the fuck? Immediately, I scanned the room for any danger, with my hand taking hold of the dagger on the nightstand. Had I, subconsciously heard something or someone move? No, this was¡­ something different. Not sure what it was, but it was¡­ inside of me. Before I could further think about what that might be, I suddenly felt as if I was on fire. Every fiber inside my body began to burn and melt as if there was lava pulsing through my veins. I tried to control the pain, attempted to stay in control of my body, but even my prodigious willpower was not enough. My muscles seized up, and I began to scream. Within seconds, Ben and the others stormed into my room, weapons drawn, but they couldn¡¯t figure out what to do, not that I blamed them. After all, there was no apparent danger, just a guy in underwear on his bed, screaming his throat raw. And then, just as quickly as it had begun, it stopped. From one moment to the next, I felt weak and tired, as if I had had just had another twelve hours of intense workout, instead of the screaming agony, I had experienced mere moments earlier. The others peppered me with questions, but I didn¡¯t even have enough strength to respond. Instead, I just closed my eyes and focused on every fiber of my body, anxious to see if there was any damage. None that I could see¡­ there were changes and inflamed, raw flesh. But it felt¡­ right. As if this was a natural state of a body and not something to be fixed. Not the inflamed tissue, obviously, but the underlying changes of the body. Only then, I realized that there was some type of notification flickering annoyingly in the background. As I focused on it, I saw a blue box open up.
Individual Ladder Reward: 2nd place. You have beaten the competition. Most of it anyway. The top is not far away! For your accomplishments, you are awarded a Bronze Level upgrade to your mana channels.
Well, so that was that. But there was another notification that I hadn¡¯t noticed at first¡­ it was as if it was tacked onto the first one, somehow, or tethered to it.
Individual Ladder Reward correction: 2nd place; alternate reward The pre-existence of Gold Level mana channels changes your reward to Diamond Level mana channels instead.
I had no idea what to think of that. Partially because I had no fucking clue what mana channels were good for. If bronze was the first level, or perhaps second, if there was iron or something like that, then gold was probably two levels higher. And diamond was then another one level higher? Or two? Was this a good reward? Or crap? I had no clue. Again. Fuck, what I would give for Wikipedia on mana issues. Or a fucking internet to read up stuff on. Was there such a thing as divination? Or a higher being that one could ask for advice? I needed to figure that out as quickly as possible because I was fucking tired of stumbling around like a bumbling fool, not knowing how any of this stuff worked. Perhaps, reluctant as I was, I needed to approach this Chad or one of his companions to get some much-needed intel¡­ At least, it indeed seemed to be some type of reward, so I could safely assume that despite the ridiculous pain, it wasn¡¯t going to cause harm to my body. Maybe. Fuck, who knew if the system was benevolent. Perhaps it had some dark sense of humor¡­ so far, my body felt fine, though, so the working hypothesis was that this was somehow a good thing. And what about the Gold Level Mana channels? How the fuck had that happened? Perhaps when I had that golden mana, it had done more to me than I had thought. Just a hunch, because of name-association - gold mana and gold channel¡­ whatever. Not that it really mattered at this point. I mentally shrugged and decided that I really needed the rest, so I shut out all other noise from Ben and co. and drifted off into a deep sleep. A few hours later, the early morning sun flooded the room with its warm, red light, and I stretched out my body, trying to savor the comforting feeling of the soft bed just for a few minutes longer. Until I heard the loud snoring coming from my left, that is. Confused, I raised my head and rubbed my bleary eyes, only to see Sue resting on the armchair, legs, and arms splayed out in a rather unflattering way. Her head was bent backward, resting on the top of the backrest, mouth wide open and drool running down the side of her cheek. I had to chuckle at the sight and fought hard to resist the temptation to throw something into her wide-open mouth. I managed. Barely. After all, she had been sitting there, presumably guarding me all night long. Even if that sacrifice was slightly diminished by her drifting off into sleep herself. Trying to limit the noise, I moved to the bathroom to brush teeth and relieve myself before sitting on the bed, stuffing myself with another sumptuous breakfast while looking at Sue. She was a weird one, and I didn¡¯t know what to think about her. Annoying as heck, but fiercely loyal. Cute as hell, but gross at other times. What do you make of someone like that? Was I attracted to her? Kind of, but not really. Especially because whenever my thoughts were going down that road, I either thought of Annie, or Sue did something that like totally pissed me off. With a helpless shrug, I finally got up and left the room, not willing to sit around until Sue would wake up. I preferred doing my training by myself anyway so that I didn¡¯t give in to the temptation to slowing down just for the company of others. I needed to focus on what I needed to do. Terribly sore from the previous day¡¯s exercise, I set out for a morning jog past the Holiday Inn to loosen up my stiff muscles and to scout the bikers a bit more. There was still the guard on top, but at the moment, a group of four bikers was lingering at the entrance area. Beyond that, I could spot movement behind a few of the windows, but all that told me was that some of the rooms were occupied. What I needed was some intel on empty rooms, so that I could perhaps try to get in there or a least use them as a safe space in case I managed to enter elsewhere. When I noticed the guards looking at my direction, I decided to move on. I wasn¡¯t ready yet to go in anyway, so there was no point pushing things too far. Instead of going for more strength and speed exercises, I spent the morning working on agility drills and dexterity. I started off with simple dot drills, and, once I was tired of those, drew a hopscotch pattern on the street to work on my footwork. I was in the middle of my fiftieth or so run-through when I suddenly heard Sue laughing. ¡°So that is where you are at! Playing a jumping game! And there I thought you are working out hard to build some muscle!¡± ¡°Fuck you, Sue!¡± I grumbled while finishing my set. ¡°Care to join me in some parkour?¡± ¡°Parkour? What the hell is that? Something to do with a park?¡± ¡°Something like that, yeah,¡± I laughed. ¡°Well, I wasn¡¯t ready for a romantic walk in the park with you¡­ but sure. We already spent a night together, after all,¡± she chuckled. ¡°Yeah, thanks, by the way,¡± I said sincerely. ¡°It wasn¡¯t really necessary for you guys to rush over, but I appreciated waking up to your snoring.¡± ¡°What?¡± Sue shouted, mock-outraged. ¡°Mister, a lady doesn¡¯t snore!¡± ¡°I know!¡± I responded deadpan. ¡°Which is why I wasn¡¯t too surprised.¡± ¡°Hah, fuck you as well, Daniel! Next time I will just pour some water over your head when you pull a stunt like last night. What the fuck happened to you, anyway?¡± ¡°Well, not sure, something with the ladder, I think. I¡¯ll find out at some point, I suppose.¡± ¡°Hmpf, fine, be cryptic. So anyway, are we going or what?¡± With Sue looking on in apparent confusion, I quickly made out a sequence of cars, fences, a couple of mailboxes and garbage bins, and some other random obstacles that I could easily enough move together to build a challenging obstacle course. But she understood the concept soon enough when I did a couple of practice runs. For the next few hours, we were running through the course, to the amusement and bewilderment of the people passing by. And I got it. Two adults, jumping like teenagers from trashcan to car and over some fences¡­ that is not a sight one sees every day. But I didn¡¯t care, and neither did Sue. At first, she was a lot faster than me, but I could feel my body adjusting as we kept on running through the obstacles. Every few minutes, I took a break to stuff a cereal bar into myself or some half-mushed banana, and then continued with renewed enthusiasm. And slowly, but steadily, I gained on Sue. And she noticed it too. At first, she just pushed herself harder, but eventually, I realized that there was a suspicious amount of wind blowing around us, always in my face, no matter which direction I turned while chasing after her. Which, granted, was a good exercise too, but nonetheless annoyed the heck out of me. ¡°Stop cheating,¡± I finally shouted, when a particularly strong gust of wind blew dust into my face. All I got in response was some pearly laughter as Sue finished the obstacle course once more well ahead of me. When I finally came to the finish line, Sue was waiting with a big smile on her face. ¡°If you can¡¯t keep up, buster, you should stop racing!¡± ¡°I like you too, Sue,¡± I responded sarcastically before sitting down to eat another snack and guzzle a bottle of water. ¡°So, tell me about magic.¡± A sudden fierce gust blew some more dust into my face. ¡°What do you want to know?¡± ¡°Stop that shit,¡± I groused while spitting out some sand, before taking a long drink from another water bottle. ¡°I want to learn a bit more about spells. Where do you get them from? And how do you actually learn them?¡± ¡°Well, you just go to Jak¡¯lo¡­ and buy them. And then, well, you go through the process of attunement they call it.¡± ¡°Jak¡¯lo, that is this fire mage, right?¡± ¡°Yup, a real nut. But he knows his stuff. He even ended up on the ladder for this week, did you notice?¡± ¡°Yeah¡­ so he¡¯s at the Best Western?¡± I asked. ¡°Yup. Wanna go there? I¡¯ll tag along if you don¡¯t mind.¡± I didn¡¯t really want her along but wasn¡¯t sure how to say that without offending her badly, so I just shrugged my shoulders and slowly made my way toward the Motel with her to see if I could find some interesting spells to add to my repertoire. For the last one and a half days, I had been focusing almost exclusively on the recovery of my physical stats, and I felt it was time to engage in some magical practice as well. Not that I didn¡¯t need to do even more physical training¡­ but there just wasn¡¯t enough time to do it all. And if I could buy spells instead of developing them from scratch¡­ so much for the better. I had money after all, and I was lacking time. When we walked into the lobby, I was stunned to see the crowd of people gathered there, waiting for their turn to approach a skinny looking guy, with brown, shoulder-length hair, olive skin, and piercing, somewhat manic-looking eyes. A long tattoo of a Japanese-style dragon stretched along his right arm from his wrist all the way up to his biceps. Its sinuous form almost seemed alive as Jak¡¯lo flexed his arm muscles in obvious annoyance while looking at one of the members of the EFU that was standing in front of him. ¡°Do I look like a charity to you? Or perhaps Gundaran the Giver?¡± Jak¡¯lo barked at the man on the other side of the table. ¡°One gold is one gold and not eight silver. Either you have it, or you don¡¯t. Stop wasting my time.¡± ¡°But,-¡° ¡°No ¡®but.¡¯ Piss off, bub!¡± ¡°What the fuck is wrong with you? You arrogant-,¡± the man slowly trailed off as he noticed the almost-smile spreading across Jak¡¯lo¡¯s face. ¡°Yes? You were saying?¡± Jak¡¯lo encourage the man to finish his sentence, leaning forward almost eagerly. All I could do was stare at the scene, utterly fascinated. That smile¡­ it sent small shivers of fear down my spine, even though I was several yards away and not the target of the cheerful, yet oddly ominous expression. And I wasn¡¯t the only one that felt that way. All across the room, people involuntarily backed away a few steps, ready to bolt at a moment¡¯s notice. The target of Jak¡¯lo¡¯s ire paled, raised his hands, and said: ¡°I¡¯m sorry, I¡­ I will come back next week then,¡± before turning around and leaving the lobby as quickly as possible while avoiding the eyes of the other people in the room. --------------------------------------------- Jak¡¯lo eyed the remaining people in the room with a sigh. Another fifteen hopefuls, at least. And according to his experience, half of them wouldn¡¯t have enough money to get a spell, while the other half would dither around choosing a spell until he¡¯d be ready to burn them just to get rid of them. Why¡­? Why had Chad assigned this task to him? He should have put Deklajan in his place. Or Bree-Ann, or¡­ really anyone but him. He¡¯d much rather be out there burning something then be stuck in this stuffy room with all too many people. Perhaps¡­ Jak¡¯lo surreptitiously activated Aura of Heliot and slowly fueled it with red mana. Immediately, tendrils of red mana began to radiate out from his body into the surrounding area and began to heat up the air. Jak¡¯lo then activated a modified version of Heliod¡¯s Shield to keep things temperate around his own body, while he watched with an amused smirk how the people around him began to fidget more and more, and wipe off the beads of sweat accumulating on their foreheads. ¡®There, that should get them out of here rather quickly,¡¯ he thought smugly, satisfied with his little scheme. And indeed, soon, people began to stumble out of the room with their clothes drenched in sweat. All the while, Jak¡¯lo pretended to be studying a document in front of him, to discourage people from sticking around or, Xantis forbid, approach him. Soon enough, there was only one young man and one woman left in the room. The woman he had seen before, Sue was her name as far as he recalled. But he had not seen the guy before. Moderate height, brown hair, some muscles, but not overly trained, from the looks of it. He wore functional wear, as the locals called that strange type of fiber, most of it dirty and soaked with sweat, but in good repair. The most striking feature was his eyes, which, noticeable even from a distance, seemed to change color. A rather odd phenomenon, to be sure, especially for such a non-magic and inept population as these locals. As Jak¡¯lo studied him, the man raised his head and stared right back, as if analyzing him as well. Which was a marked change to how the other locals interacted with him. By now, he had a reputation, and most people avoided making eye contact with him, which amused Jak¡¯lo no end and was something he actively encouraged. Not taking his eyes off the man, Jak¡¯lo further amped the mana input into his aura, making it truly uncomfortable, perhaps even dangerous to be in the room. For a moment, the guy¡¯s eyes turned a fascinating silver, and a thoughtful expression crossed his face. And then, rather than starting to sweat worse, or leave, the guy almost began to relax. Jak¡¯lo would have questioned the effect of his spell if it wasn¡¯t for Sue looking like she was about to die of heatstroke. Did the man have some type of spell that protected him? But he had been selling spells from the beginning, and had a reasonably good idea of what everyone had in their repertoire¡­ and he had never sold a simple heat protection spell before, of that he was sure. So, could it be¡­? ¡°Hey, you there!¡± Jak¡¯lo shouted. ¡°Come here!¡± ¡°Sue, why don¡¯t you wait outside where it is a bit cooler,¡± the guy said to the gal and then slowly approached, with a guarded expression on his face. As the fellow got closer, Jak¡¯lo could see a sheen of sweat on his skin, but otherwise no visible sign of discomfort. ¡°How are you doing that?¡± Jak¡¯lo asked suspiciously. ¡°Doing what?¡± the man asked with an innocent expression on his face. Jak¡¯lo glared at him. ¡°You are resisting my spell. How?¡± ¡°Oh, you are casting a spell? I didn¡¯t know¡­¡± ¡°Stop screwing around. You know a spell that allows you to resist heat. I want to know where you learned it. Are you from Randmere? The Mountain Alliance?¡± Jak¡¯lo poured mana into his left hand, ready to incinerate the fool on the spot if it turned out that it was indeed a spy. ¡°Give me a reason not to burn you to crisps.¡± ¡°Fascinating,¡± the man said while staring at Jak¡¯lo¡¯s hand filled with mana. Intriguingly, his eyes had turned a silver color again, as he seemed to scrutinize the spell Jak¡¯lo was about to let loose. ¡°But, before you set everything on fire, let me explain.¡± With a flick of his right hand, Jak¡¯lo encouraged the guy to continue. ¡°I noticed that you were increasing the temperature, obviously, and I¡­ have the limited ability to manipulate mana. So, I have been cobbling together a sort of protection.¡± The man slid the back of his hand across his forehead and flicked off some sweat. ¡°As you can see, my ability is indeed limited, so I am still suffering from the heat, just not nearly as much as everyone else.¡± Jak¡¯lo stared at the man, stunned for a moment. Mana manipulation. It had to be. That was a skill that was truly worth having. And to find that among the bunch of inept morons that seemed to populate this town was like a miracle. But he wasn¡¯t ready to trust his words so quickly. ¡°Interesting¡­ so then you can create a flame sphere on your hand as well?¡± ¡°Uhm, I am not sure. I haven¡¯t tried that yet.¡± ¡°Well, why don¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Like right now? I kind of came here to buy a spell, not to create flaming spheres.¡± ¡°Humor me.¡± ¡°And if not?¡± Jak¡¯lo looked at his left hand and willed a ball of fire to turn visible. ¡°What do you think?¡± With a resigned frown, the man sat down on a chair and looked at his hand with some consternation. ¡°Can you at least show me what it should look like?¡± With an annoyed huff, Jak¡¯lo extinguished the ball of fire and pulled forth red mana to shape it into a flame, hovering above his palm. Just as before, the man¡¯s eyes turned oddly silver as he raptly watched what Jak¡¯lo was doing. And then a look of intense concentration crossed his face, as he apparently attempted to replicate what he had seen. The first minute passed, and nothing happened. Then another few minutes went by, and Jak¡¯lo was getting impatient. It shouldn¡¯t be that hard, right? He had mastered this within a day of obtaining external mana manipulation. And that had been the first thing he had tried, which obviously wasn¡¯t the case for this man. But then, finally, a misshapen half-flame, half-spherical red construct flickered into place above the palm of the guy¡¯s hand. ¡°Fascinating¡­,¡± Jak¡¯lo whispered, oddly reassured by the imperfect result. He was quite confident that no spell would create something that ugly as a result. And a foreign agent, pretending to be a local¡­ wouldn¡¯t produce such a terrible construct either. Well, perhaps they would actually because it allowed them to claim to just having learned the skill¡­ But he could inquire a bit later on the guy, asking some of the locals if they knew about him. Undoubtedly, that would uncover any machinations by a foreign faction. And if it truly was a local¡­ finally someone worthwhile dealing with. All those morons that just purchased spells and crammed them into their tiny, stupid brains never really thought about the beauty of magic, its power and limitations, and how to adjust it to one¡¯s needs, how to truly master it. And as a result, all of them would forever be mired in pitiful mediocrity. ----------------------------------------- Well, shit. That gleam in Jak¡¯lo¡¯s eyes was worrisome. What had I gotten myself into? At first, I had just wanted to keep myself a bit more comfortable, a perfectly reasonable thing to do given the random bullying by Jak¡¯lo. I hadn¡¯t really expected everyone else to give up so quickly, though, and then, worse had not left with them. I didn¡¯t want to stick out in any way, but on the other hand, I didn¡¯t fancy the idea of coming back another day only to have the same thing repeat itself. Sue had already told me on the way that Jak¡¯lo had a somewhat volatile personality and could be set off by small things. And it was an almost daily occurrence that he set something, or even someone, on fire. And I needed to get more powerful quickly, and spells seemed an easy way to achieve that goal. So I had stayed. And then it was too late, and I had to somehow explain myself. Not that revealing my mana manipulation skills were such a big thing. At least, that is what I had thought until I saw Jak¡¯lo¡¯s expression. Perhaps I had to revise my opinion on that¡­ But perhaps it wasn¡¯t such a bad thing after all, because I really needed knowledge. And secrecy was good and all, but if it held me back too much, it could be detrimental as well. From all I had heard and could see, Jak¡¯lo was truly adept at fire magic. The ease with which he cast his spells, the speed, as well as the fine control he exhibited, had left quite the impression on me. And in contrast to the others that I had observed using mana around town, Jak¡¯lo¡¯s spells had an¡­ improvised component to them that I hadn¡¯t noticed anywhere else. It was as if he was able to modify spells to some degree, or perhaps enhance them. I wasn¡¯t sure yet if that was true, but if so¡­ I wanted it. ¡°So,¡­spells?¡± I asked tentatively, as Jak¡¯lo stared at me as someone might stare at a fascinating insect. ¡°Oh, yes,¡­ do you have at least one gold?¡± Jak¡¯lo asked, suddenly suspicious. ¡°I do,¡± I responded, briefly flashing three gold pieces and some silver. ¡°Good, good¡­ follow me,¡± Jak¡¯lo mumbled while almost dragging me into a little office space behind his desk. There, arrayed on shelves all around the room were hundreds of little boxes with runic inscriptions on them. ¡°So, let¡¯s see,¡± Jak¡¯lo muttered. ¡°Red mana spells, obviously, something interesting¡­ perhaps Rognar¡¯s Firestorm? Or Meteor Shower? Or Heliod¡¯s Wrath¡­ oh, I like that one¡­¡± ¡°Uhm, Jak¡¯lo?¡± I asked, eager to get my hands on my first spell, but not sure if Jak¡¯lo was going in the right direction. ¡°Yes?¡± Jak¡¯lo asked distractedly, while he was searching through the shelves on the right side of the room, pulling out boxes to briefly scan the runes inscribed on top, only to push them back with obvious disdain - apart from the small, yet growing pile of boxes that had met with his approval. ¡°I¡­ I really just want a simple spell for now... something to try this out.¡± ¡°A simple spell?¡± Jak¡¯lo almost sounded outraged. ¡°Why, by Xantis, would you want a simple spell? Are you a moron? And what do you mean by trying out? Are you daft?¡± ¡°Well, trying out¡­ because I have never learned a spell in this way¡­ !?¡± Jak¡¯lo whirled around, staring at my face in obvious surprise. ¡°What? What an outrageous claim¡­ so tell me, how did you learn your spells then?¡± ¡°Well¡­ to be honest, I only have one spell¡­ I can heat stuff that I touch!¡± Jak¡¯lo stared at me for a moment, before starting to guffaw. ¡°What would you do with that kind of spell? It is completely and utterly useless! Every time you use that, you¡¯d burn yourself!¡± ¡°Well, I guess¡­ I am not sure how, but it doesn¡¯t really burn me.¡± ¡°Hah, you see? That is already a second-degree spell. Two effects combined. Not so simple after all. And the runes involved¡­ well, there is no force there, but thermal power in two directions, combined in¡­¡± I leaned forward, trying to capture the rest of what he was saying, but Jak¡¯lo¡¯s mumbling became too quiet for me to make out what he was talking about. But the few things I had heard made me almost unreasonably excited. It almost sounded as if there was a system of concepts from physics, or at least a close equivalent to that, which made up the composition of spells. I had been somewhat aware of that, obviously, from my tinkering with magic, but to hear it spelled out was big news. Same with the degree, or level, of the spell being determined by the number of different components that went into the spell. So did that mean¡­ ¡°So, Jak¡¯lo, a fireball spell, would that be three effects combined? Thermal, a force for shooting, and another force for the explosion?¡± ¡°Hah, close. Seems like you are not as stupid as you look! Excellent deduction! You might even have some potential beyond your mana manipulation skills.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± I said dryly, but couldn¡¯t stop myself from cracking a smile. Despite the condescending and even insulting tone, Jak¡¯lo¡¯s excitement was almost infectious. ¡°So¡­? Maybe I should try something not too complex anyway? How about a fireball then?¡± ¡°So mundane¡­¡± Jak¡¯lo grumbled while going back to the shelve to grab a spell that he had previously discarded. ¡°Everyone wants a fireball for some reason. It really isn¡¯t the best spell out there, but it is flashy, I suppose.¡± Greedily, I looked at the box with the spell. Finally! Chapter 46 – Fired Up I ¡°So¡­ what now?¡± I asked, eager to get my hands on a real freaking fireball. ¡°Well, first you¡¯ve got to give me the money,¡± Jak¡¯lo responded, holding out his hand expectantly. ¡°A fireball is tier 3, so that would be four gold.¡± ¡°Hmm, so the cost is related to tiers? Why not three then?¡± ¡°Well, yes, the cost depends on tiers, but also on a couple of other factors. And it doesn¡¯t increase linearly with tiers but exponential. Mostly.¡± Secretly, I was impressed with Jak¡¯lo. Somehow, I had assumed that someone coming from a society with magic, with people swinging medieval weapons, and, from what I had heard, dragging a wagon by hand into town would be ignorant of math¡­ but obviously, that wasn¡¯t the case with Jak¡¯lo. Grumbling to keep up appearances, I fished out another gold and handed it to Jak¡¯lo, studiously ignoring his raised eyebrow at being able to cough up four gold just like that. When I thought a bit about it, being able to pay that much without blinking might seem a tad suspicious. Perhaps one or two people from the EFU had obtained four gold by this time, but not more. But, luckily, he didn¡¯t dig deeper and just took my coins, in exchange for the little container. Grinning widely, I opened the box, expecting to see some sort of scroll in there that would make me learn the spell in an instant. Instead, I was looking at a small three-dimensional construct made out of a shiny metal-like material that felt surprisingly heavy in my hand for its tiny size. I pulled it out of the box to inspect it closer, before turning toward Jak¡¯lo. ¡°So,¡­ what do I do with this? It¡¯s like a bunch of¡­ runes? Welded together into some sort of structure?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what welding is, but yes, essentially. Grafters use mirror-steel to assemble these, following standard parameters for, in this case, fireballs. See, here,¡± he pointed at a tiny ring-structure made out of runes, ¡°this determines the size of the fireball. Which then,¡± he traced his finger along a string of runes connected to the initial ring-structure, ¡±is connected to a structure that specifies the kind of motion that can be imbued into the sphere of fire.¡± It almost looked like code language, just with runes and in three dimensions. If that was true, and spells could all be determined by the combination of runes¡­ the potential was enormous. It was basically just a secret language that needed to be learned and, once mastered, I¡¯d be able to create and modify any spell out there¡­ Unless there was something else to it. ¡°So, what do I need to do to learn the spell then?¡± I repeated my earlier question. ¡°Well, here is the bowl of ultimate wizardry¡­¡± Jak¡¯lo cackled as he pushed forward a little bowl that had runes inscribed all over it. ¡°Fill it with blood and then dump your spell in there.¡± ¡°Uhm, what? My blood?¡± Suddenly, I was suspicious. This wasn¡¯t going to be another repeat of my experience with Du¡¯Andrazzil, I hoped¡­ ¡°Why would you need my blood in there?¡± ¡°It shows your dedication to the goddess Xantis, the creator of magic!¡± ¡°Uhm¡­. Ok!?¡± I kind of mumbled, not sure how to respond to some religious shit. Especially if it was dedicated to some weird pagan goddess that¡­ wait. Maybe gods were real in this world! Fuck. If so¡­ I had to reevaluate my behavior and perspective on magic. Suddenly, Jak¡¯lo began to cackle madly in his high-pitched voice, while slapping his thighs. ¡°I¡¯m just pulling a wixom out of you, young man. By Xantis, your face was hilarious. It almost made up for having to sit around all day long, handing out spells to ignorant fools.¡± I wasn¡¯t sure how to respond to that. And I had no idea what a wixom was. But before I could figure out what to say, Jak¡¯lo continued: ¡°More seriously, the blood is needed, because the spell gets attuned to it. Once that has happened, the blood will be reentered into your veins, and that is that.¡± ¡°Hmm, so why would the spell need to get attuned like that?¡± I asked, eyeing the bowl suspiciously. It wasn¡¯t exactly huge¡­ but that still looked like a fair amount of blood I had to put in there. Jak¡¯lo cackled once more. ¡°Are we afraid of losing some blood?¡± ¡°No, but¡­ I kinda want to learn more about how all this magic works, before I spill a gallon of blood onto some runes.¡± With a suffering sigh, Jak¡¯lo responded. ¡°Look, kid, I don¡¯t want to spend all day telling you stuff. That is not part of my job. If you want me to teach you magic theory, you¡¯ve got to make it worthwhile for me.¡± ¡°Oh yeah? I see¡­ so what do you want?¡± Jak¡¯lo¡¯s gaze slowly moved down from my face to my chest and then to my crotch, before shooting up to my face again. When he saw my stony face, he started giggling. ¡°You are just way too easy to fool, man! Give me five gold, and I¡¯ll answer a few questions.¡± ¡°Are you fucking kidding me?¡± I exploded. ¡°Five gold for a few questions? Fuck you! I¡¯ll give you five silver for that.¡± ¡°Hah, I am not the one who is desperate to learn more about magic. And guess what, need drives price!¡± ¡°That is price gouging¡­ how about one gold?¡± Jak¡¯lo just stared at me, smirking. Fuck. What a prick. And while I did have the five gold, I really didn¡¯t want to just throw them out there for a few questions. That seemed ridiculous. On the other hand,¡­ where else would I get my answers from? Shit. After some more hesitation, I finally reached into my pockets and pulled out another five gold. ¡°Here you go. I hope it¡¯s fucking worth it.¡± Jak¡¯lo grabbed the coins and grinned at me. ¡°Man, I should have asked for ten instead. Do you always cave so easily?¡± I didn¡¯t respond to that, beyond giving him another stony glare. This guy was Sue on steroids. And much less cute. Maybe I needed to up my emotional intelligence after all. If I could get a better read on people, I¡¯d end up less often with the short stick in situations like that. Well, whatever. At least, I¡¯d get some useful information. And if not¡­ I already imagined sneaking up on Jak¡¯lo with my Shadow Skin and giving him a bit of a whupping. Not that I¡¯d actually do it. After all, I had heard too many stories about him being a crazy-ass killer. And his position on the ladder indicated that he was good at snuffing out lives. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. ¡°So, what do you want to know? I¡¯ll explain to the best of my knowledge. But,¡± Jak¡¯lo raised his fingers, ¡°I don¡¯t know everything. In fact, no one does. Magic is an art that is as of yet incompletely understood. But I will fill in my personal theories where needed.¡± I tried to organize my thoughts for a moment. ¡°Ok. So, let¡¯s step away from specific spells for a moment¡­ what is needed to get to the Apprentice level?¡± For a moment, Jak¡¯lo looked disappointed. ¡°I thought you¡¯d ask me some interesting questions about magic theory¡­ but whatever. To answer your question¡­ you have to reach level 10 on Initiate and then gain twenty more mana to reach level one on Apprentice level. But,¡± and here Jak¡¯lo raised his finger in an admonishing pose, ¡°you cannot just accumulate mana and wait for that to happen automatically. You have to redesign your mana cycle to achieve the upgrade in level. To go to the Apprentice level, you need to make your mana cycle denser and more compact.¡± ¡°What happens if someone doesn¡¯t do that?¡± ¡°They won¡¯t earn any more mana starting from a certain point. And any mana beyond those extra twenty is lost when reaching Apprentice level¡­ so most consider it a huge waste.¡± Shit, that meant I had already wasted five black mana. Good thing I had asked that question now¡­ A few questions later, I had a fair idea about the leveling system, which required ever-increasing mana counts for higher tiers of levels, and a different improvement in the mana cycle each time. Apparently, the quality of the improvement was a key determinant of how many characteristic, spell, and, in rare cases, skill points one might obtain on subsequent levels. Interestingly, this was somewhat influenced by the quality of one¡¯s mana channels as well. ¡°So what are those mana channels good for, and how can one improve them?¡± I asked after hearing Jak¡¯lo mention them. ¡°Well, so, you¡¯ll have an iron channel, I suspect, which is what everyone starts off with,¡± Jak¡¯lo responded. ¡°As I already said, the channel gives you a bonus when leveling. But equally important, or perhaps more important, depending on who you ask, it determines the amount of mana you can send through your channels to power your spells. At an iron rank channel, the conversion of mana into power declines extremely rapidly as you reach the designed power ranking for your spell.¡± Jak¡¯lo waved dismissively at the fireball. ¡°See, this fireball, for instance, has a standard charge of forty red mana. The amount of mana you pour into the spell is one of the base-determinants of the effective power of the spell. If you put in less than the forty mana, you can still get a sphere of flames, but it will be sorely underwhelming. If you pump in more mana than the forty, you can overpower the spell for a bigger bang, but the additional damage per added mana decreases at a rapidly increasing rate.¡± ¡°So how do higher channels change that equation?¡± ¡°Every increased level of mana channel, copper, silver, gold, diamond, adamant, and¡­ well, no one has ever gotten to higher levels than that anyway, but, so, they all increase efficiency. And, more importantly, perhaps, starting from gold they also increase the speed at which you can channel your mana, giving you a distinct advantage in fights.¡± ¡°So then¡­ the whole point of having higher-ranked spells is that you can pour more mana into them and therefore make them more powerful, even if you are on iron rank channels?¡± ¡°That is one reason, but¡­ higher ranked spells also offer additional dimensions. Often the spell is more intricate and therefore offers a better power conversion than lower-ranked spells. See, Heliod¡¯s Wrath, for instance, is a 6th level spell and works like a swarm of fireballs. It requires at least two hundred mana to work, but the damage output is significantly higher than from say five fireballs.¡± ¡°So wait, you wanted me to take that spell before¡­ are you out of your mind? How would I have two hundred mana at this point?¡± I almost shouted at Jak¡¯lo. ¡°Huh, well, I guess I hadn¡¯t really thought about that. And¡­ not sure about your intelligence either, now that I think about it.¡± ¡°What?¡± The more I interacted with Jak¡¯lo, the more pissed off I got. ¡°You need¡­ let¡¯s see, level 1 spells are free, level 2 spells require intelligence of 10, ¡­¡± Jak¡¯lo began to mumble as he apparently tried to do some complicated math in his head. ¡°So, an intelligence of about 22 is needed for you to be able to cast that spell. And you need, hmm, a similar amount of willpower to pull it off with any kind of efficiency.¡± What the fuck? ¡°Wait, why do you have to be smart if you have those runic patterns in your blood?¡± ¡°Well, this is not entirely understood,¡± Jak¡¯lo explained, ¡°My theory is, and there is some solid evidence for it, that the runes provide your brain, and channels, a blueprint to be used, but still require conscious processing power to cast.¡± ¡°How would you come to that conclusion? What kind of evidence are we talking about?¡± I asked suspiciously. This was important because it would determine what kind of characteristics I would have to level. Jah¡¯lo raised a finger. ¡°For one, it is an established fact that those with low intelligence cannot cast higher-tiered spells. Two,¡± Jak¡¯lo raised a second finger, like a professor providing a list of facts to a room full of semi-attentive students, ¡°You feel mentally exhausted when you cast spells, so it must involve the brain somewhere. And three, people don¡¯t cast spells when they are dreaming.¡± Well, that did sound convincing. ¡°So, ok, back to the blood and runes¡­ why?¡± ¡°Hmm, again, there is no definite proof¡­ and there are some different schools of thought. But the theory that I personally favor argues that the runes get copied into tiny little particles in the blood that then get spread throughout the whole body in a semi-biological, semi-magical process. This then allows mana to be accessed immediately and at high speed, because the blueprint on how to do this is everywhere. If you didn¡¯t do this,¡± Jak¡¯lo again raised his bony finger, apparently his signature move, ¡±and say, instead put the rune into your flesh somewhere, the spell could only access mana from that particular spot. And that would provide only a pathetic quantity, not useful for anything more than lighting a candle, perhaps. Furthermore, the process also attunes your body to that particular mana, which allows for increased efficiency.¡± It took my mind a moment to catch up to the last sentence. ¡°Wait, what? What did you just say?¡± ¡°It attunes your body. Basically, your blood becomes a more specialized conduit for red mana, in your case.¡± Well, fuck. The process sounded like a virus, or perhaps gene manipulation. And more specialized probably meant that every other type of casting would be more difficult. I needed to find out. ¡°So, what if someone took a spell based on red mana and another one based on white mana, say that wind-gust spell?¡± Jak¡¯lo began to giggle. ¡°What are you talking about? How would you do that? You can¡¯t use red mana to create a wind-effect. Unless you do it naturally, by heating up air causing it to rise¡­ red mana has, mainly, thermal heat and force as components. White mana, on the other hand, is mostly transmutation, alteration, and force.¡± After a moment, Jak¡¯lo continued. ¡°That said, I have heard of people having more than one core, but it usually ends rather poorly for them. Mana ends up clashing inside their body, so it is a terrible idea to do that.¡± ¡°But hypothetically¡­?¡± ¡°Hmm, hypothetically¡­ one could, maybe. But whatever spell one picks last would determine the attunement of the blood. Or perhaps the highest tier would determine that... or the average number of spells¡­¡± Jak¡¯lo began to mumble as he was thinking through the ramifications. ¡°But certainly, if one could cast spells with different mana, it would vastly decrease the speed and efficacy of all other spells.¡± Shit. So much for gaining access to a fireball spell by dropping a few gold coins on a counter. ¡°Can I return the spell?¡± Jak¡¯lo stared at me for a moment, utterly flabbergasted. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Yeah, I want to return the spell. I¡­ I don¡¯t like the idea of putting my blood into the bowl and then some runes spreading throughout my body.¡± I wasn¡¯t really concerned about those things, well, in fact, the virus-like feature of the process did have me freaked out a bit, but I needed a credible reason to not wanting to use the fireball spell any longer. A reason other than me being able to handle multiple mana types. If Sue and Jak¡¯lo ever got to talk about me, the cat would be out of the sack, but until then, I might be able to keep things a secret. After a moment, Jak¡¯lo shrugged his shoulders and said: ¡°Sure, I can give you two gold for it.¡± ¡°What?¡± I shouted in outrage. ¡°I just paid four gold for it a moment ago, and I didn¡¯t use it!¡± ¡°Well, take it or leave it,¡± Jak¡¯lo responded with a smug expression on his face. ¡°You know what? Fuck you,¡± I growled, snatching back the set of runes. ¡°I¡¯ll just keep it then.¡± Jak¡¯lo just smirked. ¡°Suit yourself.¡± I swallowed a few choice words and instead focused on what I needed to know. ¡°Alright, then show me how a fireball works.¡± ¡°Why would I do that?¡± Jak¡¯lo asked with raised eyebrows. ¡°Because I fucking paid you five gold?¡± ¡°I think,¡± Jak¡¯lo said slowly, ¡°that I have provided you with some unique knowledge that no one else in this shard has access to! That is worth more than five gold, for sure!¡± ¡°You fucking, greedy, scumbag!¡± I shouted and began to advance at him. Danger or not, he was gonna get a black eye. Only to be stopped short, when Jak¡¯lo started his somewhat manic giggle again and raised his hands in a mollifying gesture. ¡°Fine, fine. I just wanted to see how much I can push you around. At least you have some balls. Watch closely now. I am going to do it once with the help of runes and once without. You¡¯ll see a noticeable difference.¡± Chapter 46 - Fired Up II When I activated Mana Vision, I could see red mana rush through Jak¡¯lo¡¯s arms into a red sphere that was floating between his two hands. At first glance, the mana looked like a diffuse substance, comparable to stringy foam rushing down a river. But when I looked closer, I could make out a system of complicated runes that danced around each other in an eye-contorting pattern, too fast, really, for me to understand. But I got the gist of what was going on. The runes floating in the blood, lighting up like a whole bunch of firecrackers, served as mana collectors. Channels made out of strings of runes were then guiding the mana toward its destination. And the fact that the mana was cycling in the sphere kept the construct stable, even while ever more energy was fed into it from all over the body. Then, a few runes on one side of the ball of fire lit up, and the sphere began to speed toward the other side of the room, only to explode in a relatively small globe of flames, which caused a wave of heat to wash over us. Jak¡¯lo chuckled while looking at the smoldering carpet. ¡°Oops.¡± ¡°Maybe the other one outside?¡± I asked hesitantly while wiping some sweat off my forehead. But Jak¡¯lo already had begun to cast a second fireball, so I just stepped a couple of steps back, while carefully watching what he was doing. And indeed, the process was a lot less¡­ refined. If I looked carefully, there were runes there as well, but they were much less structured, and the difference in the effectiveness was noticeable. The process took a lot longer, and the amount of energy guided into the sphere seemed smaller, even though the sheer quantity of mana used was comparable, resulting in a much tinier explosion of flames than in the previous case. If either one could be called an explosion. Frankly, I was a bit underwhelmed by the impact of the fireball. Did it have flames? Check. Heat? Check. Explosion? Not so much. I mean, the flames spread out, but it was more like the fireball expanded for a moment, and then the effect was gone. So it probably was good for lighting stuff on fire, but less so for blowing things up. Before I could express my disappointment, Jak¡¯lo looked at me with a grin and said: ¡°So there you have it. Not sure if you could make out the difference, but the second fireball was slower and weaker than the rune-driven one. And that will happen for every single spell unless you have like monstrous skills and spell levels.¡± That was interesting¡­ ¡°How so?¡± ¡°Well,¡± Jak¡¯lo said. ¡°You saw the power difference between the two. And I have the fireball spell in the low teens, high intelligence and willpower, external mana manipulation in the thirties, fire affinity at level 2, and a silver level mana channel.¡± ¡°Pretty good levels overall, I¡¯d say,¡± he grinned proudly at me, clearly expecting me to be impressed. Fuck him. ¡°That¡¯s not half bad,¡± I said in a somewhat condescending tone. ¡°But how come your affinity level is so low and the mana channel is only silver? Don¡¯t you, like, live for magic?¡± Jak¡¯lo obviously had not expected that type of response, as his face grew slightly red. ¡°You ignorant little shit. Get out of here, before I burn your hair off.¡± It was my turn to cackle. Until I realized that Jak¡¯lo actually seemed to be serious about it. And when Jak¡¯lo created a little sphere of red mana in his hand that radiated palpable heat, I decided that it was an excellent time to beat a hasty retreat. I wasn¡¯t sure if he was going to follow through with his threat¡­ but he did seem rather volatile. As I exited the building, I heard him giggle again and almost turned around to confront him. But then I figured that I had gotten enough out of the exchange to give me some food for thoughts, and, more importantly, a good idea on how to create my own fireball, without relying on those prefabricated runes. Based on Jak¡¯lo¡¯s stats, I wasn¡¯t like way behind, it seemed, and I¡¯d be able to get some serious firepower if I put my mind to it, especially since I had a lot of unspent spell and skill points available. And the money¡­ well, that was a lot of gold for not that much in return. But, in the worst case, I¡¯d sneak into the Best Western at some point with Shadow Skin, and steal some of it back. The way Jak¡¯lo had treated me, I had no compunction of trying to get even that way. See who¡¯d laugh then. But the exchange had still left a sour taste in my mouth, and I needed to get rid of some of that negative emotion. I decided that this evening it was time to make a move on some of the bikers, sow some fear into them. Or, at least, pick off an easy target or two. Until then¡­ more physical training? Or try my hands on the fireball? Either one might pay dividends soon¡­ but given the nature of the fireball with its impact mostly restricted to heat and fire, rather than explosive force, I figured that for now, it was more important to further raise my physical stats so that I could start spending those extra points I had. And probably, I should also take the opportunity to further increase my mental stats in between. Talking to Jak¡¯lo had made it clear that some of those were also relevant for spell casting, so I certainly shouldn¡¯t neglect them. Munching on another few cereal bars, I went to the local gym to find some dumbbells and machines for heavy compound exercises. The previous day I had worked more on leg muscles, chest, and abs. Today was the time to work on shoulders and arms. Needless to say, it was grueling. I don¡¯t know how many times I longed to just call it a day¡­ but I pushed through the urge. If I wanted to have results, I needed to overcome those mental barriers, needed to go to my limits and beyond. Which wasn¡¯t to say that I didn¡¯t take breaks. I did. I still had to eat as much as I could to fuel the changes taking place in my body, and I also needed to take some time in between to put a couple more points into my mental stats. Hours later, when the sun began to set, I did my last set of deadlifts, and then made my way to the motel of the bikers. I wasn¡¯t sure yet what I was going to do¡­ but I wanted to do at least something. Even if it was only for psychological reasons. The shadows got longer as I walked along the deserted street, and the light slowly disappeared. Soon, it was going to be the ideal time to camouflage myself in shadows and approach the biker compound unseen. When I was just a couple of blocks away, I pulled forth black mana and activated Shadow Skin.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. And it turned out, just in time. As I walked around the corner, I saw a group of four bikers walk toward me. Seconds before they surely would have noticed me, I slid into the shadow of a parked car and waited for them to pass. This was it. The opportunity I had been looking for - a small group of bikers isolated from the rest, in the dark, unaware of my presence. I just had to follow them for a bit, to make sure that the inevitable screams wouldn¡¯t be noticed by the rest of the bikers in the hotel. The bikers wore the obligatory black leather vest, adorned with a combination of skulls, crosses, roses, and guns. And naked girls, of course, albeit silhouetted. One guy was at least 6¡¯5¡± but real skinny. Another one, much shorter, but shoulders like a bull, had a nasty scar at the side of the face, that looked as if it had healed only very recently. The other two almost looked like twins, with huge bushy beards and bulbous noses, and both puffing on a spliff that they shared between each other. Lanky had a baseball bat as a weapon, whereas the twins sported iron rebars, and scarface carried a wooden club with sawed-off nails as spikes. None of it looked professional, but I was sure it got the job done when paired with brute force. With some difficulty, I pulled my sword out of the narrow opening of the bag of holding, and then followed them slowly, keeping to the shadows at the side of the road. And as I sneaked closer, I was beginning to be able to make out their conversation. ¡°¡­ the boss? You heard him, right?¡± Lanky was saying as I got close enough. ¡°Yeah, not sure. I mean, have you seen Golgiat? That dude is crazy strong,¡± Twin one responded while taking another deep pull from his spliff. Lanky chuckled with a nasal voice that I found profoundly unpleasant. ¡°That¡¯s not gonna help him if he has a knife through his heart.¡± ¡°True,¡± Twin two said. ¡°But personally, I¡¯d rather take on Jak¡¯lo than Golgiat¡­¡± ¡°Dude, if I could pick, I¡¯d take Bree-Ann,¡± Twin one dreamily said while taking another puff from his spliff. ¡°She is hot. And with a knife against her throat, she wouldn¡¯t be able to say no to what I want either.¡± ¡°Man, you are kinda sick, you know?¡± Squat said with a sleazy grin on his face. ¡°Speaking of¡­ what are my tired eyes seeing over there?¡± Lanky pointed with his chin down the road. ¡°Is that¡­ nooo, can¡¯t be true¡­ a girl? Walking around after dark? Bad choice, bad choice.¡± ¡°Eddie, you know how Cobr-,¡° Squat guy began to argue. ¡°Andy, listen, she has to learn that she shouldn¡¯t do that. Don¡¯t you think? And I know just how to teach her¡­¡± The lanky guy, Eddie, grinned unpleasantly and sped up his steps, quickly approaching the girl who had just become aware of the men approaching and was cowering in a doorway. I silently prayed that she would turn around and start running away, but she seemed petrified, like a deer caught in the headlights. And before she could snap out of it, Eddie was right on top of her, with twin one and twin two fanned out to cut off the escape routes. Fuck. I had hoped for some type of distraction, but this wasn¡¯t what I had had in mind. Just watching the smirking guy lean over the hapless girl was making me sick to my stomach. And the eager grins of the twins, barely visible through their bushy beards, didn¡¯t help. ¡°Well, hello there, darling,¡± Eddie crooned while bending down and putting a hand on the girls back. ¡°You know that you shouldn¡¯t be out at night, you know that, right? There are monsters around¡­ who knows what might happen?¡± ¡°I¡­ I know. I just needed to get some food, my dad and mom, they,-¡° ¡°Now, now,¡± Eddie interrupted her explanation. ¡°The problem is that your dad and ma aren¡¯t here, right? So I think that you need some help.¡± ¡°No,¡­ I am fine, I-¡° ¡°No, you do! And my friends and I, we will make sure that nothing happens to you, but, you know, you gotta help us too.¡± ¡°Eddie, if this comes out ¡­,¡± Andy said as he finally caught up to the other three, face slightly red from the exertion. Based on how he had been waddling over there, he certainly wasn¡¯t a runner, and it had been easy enough for me to overtake him at the side of the road, always sticking to shadows and trusting the girl to occupy their attention. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you, Andy? How would he find out?¡± Eddie grunted while he was trying with shaking hands to unzip his pants in front of the cowering girl. Slowly, I raised my sword and got myself ready to make a move. I needed to take out Andy first and hope that Eddie and the twins would stay fixated on the girl for a few extra seconds. Twin one might be easier to handle because he seemed somewhat high. That should slow his reactions down a bit. So he¡¯d get to live the longest. Eddie¡­ I had to wait until his pants were down. That would give me a precious, extra, few seconds. So, Andy first, then Twin two and afterward play it by ear. Shit, I just hoped that my sore muscles wouldn¡¯t slow me down too much. I was totally beat. Not a good situation to get into a fight to the death. As I was dithering, Andy stepped forward and put his meaty hand on Eddie¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Eddie, just leave it! You don¡¯t want to cross Cobra or,¡± he shuddered, ¡°Big Pete!¡± ¡°Get your fucking hands off me, Andy, or I¡¯ll cut them off,¡± Eddie snarled, while he grabbed the girl by her hair to prevent her from scooting off. ¡°I¡¯m gonna fuck the girl, whether you join in or not. I guess I should have known that you¡¯d just bitch about it. Now fuck off.¡± With a shrug, Andy stepped back. ¡°Alright, do what you have to, but I¡¯ll have no part in it. But¡­ better make sure that she doesn¡¯t blab later if you know what I mean.¡± Eddie just cackled while tossing the petrified girl to the ground, and then lowered his pants. And finally, the girl snapped out of it. With a terrified scream, she began to flail around with her arms and managed to land a lucky punch right into Eddie¡¯s crotch. Groaning, Eddie bent over, cursing violently, while Twin two jumped in and smacked the girl with full force into her face. With all the attention focused on the girl, it was time to make my move before things could escalate even more. I dashed forward and rammed my sword into the back of Andy. With a chocked scream, he dropped his improvised morning star, fell to his knees, and pressed his hands at the gaping wound in his chest, trying futilely to stop the bleeding. In the meantime, I was already moving toward Eddie, who was still on the ground, writhing and moaning while clutching his balls, and utterly oblivious of what just had happened. ¡°You should have listened to Andy,¡± I hissed as I was slashing a vicious cut through his side and back, at which point the twins finally realized that something was going on. ¡°Who, the fuck, are you?¡± Twin one snarled as his drug-addled mind tried to catch up to what had happened. And then he continued in a classic, almost comical, villain fashion: ¡°Do you know who you are dealing with?¡± Meanwhile, Twin two was swirling his rebar atop of his head in a poor imitation of some type of samurai bo-movement, before jumping straight at me, screaming gutturally. Almost instinctively, I activated Mana Vision and saw that green runes flared around his whole body, leading to¡­ something. Not sure what. It seemed to be focused around the muscles, so perhaps some strengthening effect. Instead of waiting for the strike to hit me, or, god forbid, block it with my sword, I simply sidestepped and sliced the razor-sharp edge of my sword along his arm, cutting him up badly. Twin one finally realized that he was in a fight to the death and, screaming like a berserk, attempted to bring up his own rebar. But by then, it was too late. I lunged forward and stabbed the tip of my sword right into his throat, which shut him up quite effectively. Twin two attempted to use my momentary distraction to attack me from behind with a one-handed swing of his weapon, but he was telegraphing it so much, that I was ready for the strike before it even happened. Instead of ducking out of the way, which would have gotten us back to square one, I stepped back, right inside his swing, and used the pommel of my sword to break his nose with an audible crunch. Screaming like a little bitch, Twin two dropped his rebar, and, clutching his nose with his hand, stumbled away from me. But there was no way I would let him escape. Before he could recover his wits, I jumped forward and buried my sword to the hilt in his barrel-chest, and then stepped back, scanning the area for any other dangers. The road was quiet, apart from the whimpering Eddie, and the gurgling noise and futile thrashing of Twin one. But I heard a few shouts in the distance. Clearly, people had heard the screaming and were getting ready to investigate. I looked at Eddie, who was jerking around on the asphalt, like a fish on dry land. After a moment, I bent down, grabbed his greasy hair, and pulled up his head. ¡°You little piece of shit, you think you can just do whatever you want?¡± But his eyes were glassy, and the moaning seemed mostly incoherent. I wasn¡¯t going to get any response from him any longer. Which was too bad, because I had wanted to ask him about Annie. But unless I was willing to deal with other people, some of which might be more bikers, I needed to get out of here within the next couple of minutes. And then there was the girl. Chapter 46 - Fired Up III Julianne had had about the worst day of her life. Like for real. First, her mom had forced her to clean the house. Like, the apocalypse had happened, and she still had to clean the house? For real? Then, to top it off, her dad had asked her to run to the store and scavenge for some more food! She didn¡¯t want to do it, but her parents had pointed out, again!, that this was a different world and that she was supposed to chip in. It was as if she didn¡¯t have stuff to do herself. Like practice magic. Instead, it was ¡®do this,¡¯ ¡®do that,¡¯ all day long. She hated it! But in the end, she had relented and gone to the store down the road. It had taken her a lot longer than usual, too, because she had met Bethany, Josh, and Avindash, the only other teenagers left in town, at the plaza. Normally, she wouldn¡¯t have lingered that much, but with Avindash telling another one of his hilarious tales, she had totally forgotten about the time. When she had realized that darkness was setting in, she had quickly said goodbye and then had hurried toward the two-story house that her family owned, close to the center of the town. And she had been almost home, too, when she had noticed the group of four bikers approaching her. And that was when things had gotten terrible, really fast. She had known that she should have run, try to get away. But no matter how much her mind had kept on telling her to move, she just hadn¡¯t been able to get her body to respond. She had just cowered there, hoping that none of that was real, that somehow all bad things would just pass by. But of course, she had heard tales of the bikers and even seen them do bad stuff. And then that creep had grabbed her, and she had known that she was in big trouble. The next few seconds had passed in a blur. She remembered flailing around, hitting the creep with a solid punch in his nuts; her stinging face and nausea when one of the thugs had slapped her full force in the face. And then, a shadowy figure sprinting out of the dark, like in one of those Marvel comics. Suddenly, a few inches of cold, shadow covered steel had shot out of scarface¡¯s chest, causing him to collapse in a moaning heap. And then there had been some quick, brutal back and forth between the shadow figure and the remaining bikers, too fast for her to follow along. What she remembered the most was how a couple of times the eyes of her savior had lit up in a bright silver color, only to fade back into the mysterious shadow-shrouded darkness. Within seconds all four bikers had been dead, or soon-to-be-dead, on the ground, and the shadowy man stood there, surveying the area. When his silvery eyes briefly focused on her, Julianne felt a shiver run down her spine ¨C it was as if the man could look inside of her, deep into the core of her very being. And then, suddenly, the shock of the whole situation threatened to overwhelm her. The delayed adrenalin rush left her shaking on the ground, crying. ----------------------------------------- ¡®Well done, Daniel, you scared the shit out of her!¡¯ I chided myself while staring at the sobbing girl. I mean, I got it. A few guys were about to gang-rape her, and here is another guy. Guilty by association or something. Obviously, she was going to be afraid of me. Plus, I had just killed a few men without any hesitation. Heck, shrouded in the Shadow Skin, she might even think that I was a monster¡­ So what to do? Go and comfort? Talk to her? What was I going to say? ¡®Everything is going to be alright¡¯? Like in the fucking movies? Yeah, not sure about that one. Sounded too cheesy, to be honest. It was a fucked-up world right now, and I was positive that NOT everything was going to be alright¡­ Hug her? That would feel like really awkward. She was a teen, maybe sixteen. Too old to be hugged like that by someone my age. Frankly, I was at a loss. And I still needed to deal with Eddie and get out of there before other people might show up. But what to do with the piece of shit? Let him be? Or kill him in cold blood? The gentleman thing to do was to let him go, but looking at the sobbing girl¡¯s bruised face once more, I felt pure rage coursing through my body. ¡®You reap what you sow,¡¯ I thought, got up, and stabbed the motherfucker through his heart. Turning to the girl, I just told her gruffly to run back home and not be outside in the dark any longer. Which¡­ sounded weird coming out of my mouth. It sounded too mature, too adult, much more so than I felt I was. But hopefully, she was smart enough to get back home straight away anyway. I didn¡¯t wait for her to follow my advice, because I figured that I had done my part. The rest was up to her. I wasn¡¯t going to be holding the hand of some teenage girl if she wanted to be stupid¡­ As I was moving down the dark road, I thought some more about the fight. I had felt stronger. A lot stronger than just a few days ago, and that was despite me having pumped irons for half of the day. Same for my speed and agility. The training I had gone through, even if only for a couple of days had already paid huge dividends. Not to talk about the gains to perception. If I was honest, it had felt as if I had fought against a bunch of oversized children. The way they had moved was¡­ slow and clumsy. There was power there, but they had clearly focused their fighting style, and stat gains on pure strength, neglecting speed and finesse. Granted, I had had the element of surprise, and even afterward, I had been shrouded in darkness, making it much harder for them to see me. But they had magic too, so that should have evened the battlefield. The other thing that had struck me was that I had gained mana¡­ it wasn¡¯t much, about on par with killing one of the gars for each person, but it was there. And I wasn¡¯t sure how I felt about that. Were others aware of that? If so¡­ it might lead to a few people, those with questionable morals, take advantage of that as an easy leveling opportunity. I didn¡¯t want to imagine the implications¡­ Lastly, there was the effect of my newest title, Droghul¡¯s Disciple. When I had finished the bikers, I had received a small jolt of soothing energy that had reinvigorated part of my body, probably by repairing, and negating, some of the effects of my workout. I wasn¡¯t too worried about it, because clearly it had been a very minor effect, but it was odd to think that I had benefited from the death of fellow humans in two different ways. I felt slightly sullied by it, to be honest. But that was something I had to accept. There were consequences for going after the bikers, and I¡¯d better be willing to bear those. Back in the hotel, I used the bucket with water to scrub off the blood I had invariably gotten all over myself. Fighting was gross business. And without a laundry machine and hours at hand to hand-clean stuff, I was going through clothes like no-one¡¯s business. Luckily, my bag of holding had a whole bunch of outfits, some of which even fit reasonably well.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. Afterward, I was sitting on the armchair in my room, trying to figure out how to proceed from here. Should I go on a rampage and kill every single one of the bikers? Surely, there were some good guys among them or at least some bikers that simply liked¡­ well, bikes, and leather jackets and whatnot and slid into this whole shebang with the gang, unable to get out at this point. But how the hell was I supposed to figure out who was a good guy and who was a bad guy among the bikers? There was no good answer. All I could do for now was keep on training hard, and scout more on the bikers. In the end, it might come down to the question whether I thought everyone was better off without any of the bikers, including the few good guys, or with all of them alive, apart from a few bad apples that I could remove surgically, like, say, Cobra, Lil¡¯Pope, Big Pete, and Wendy. Mulling over the situation, I eventually drifted off into an unrestful sleep, with images of bloody corpses and the wet, slurping noise of my blade sliding into human flesh, haunting my dreams. The next morning, I woke up with the taste of bile in my mouth that even rigorous scrubbing with toothpaste didn¡¯t altogether remove. I hadn¡¯t really expected that killing those bikers would hit me that hard. After all, most of them were real scumbags. But there was a big difference between killing humans and goblins or gars. Yes, both were sapient, but the bikers¡­ where real people. Then again, I tried telling myself, they had no more morals than the gars I had seen, so the difference was somewhat artificial. And now that there were other races to consider, like vampiric elves and who knows what other types of beings, I should get away from feeling attached to the notion of humans being somehow different, being somehow more deserving to live. But sometimes cold reason doesn¡¯t sound convincing in the face of overwhelming emotions. Not that I wouldn¡¯t do the same thing again in a heartbeat. They had deserved to die. But I didn¡¯t have to like it. This was, perhaps, a good thing, too, because the moment that I enjoyed killing people for the sake of killing, I was half-way down to hell myself. Eventually, I forcefully stopped myself from mulling over the events of the previous day and instead got started with my training. Time was precious, and that hadn¡¯t changed overnight. Just the thought of spending another day in a crummy gym, almost made me cry, so I decided that I needed to take some time to work on my magic skills, instead. And it wasn¡¯t all just me being weak¡­ getting into prime physical shape was all good, but I had seen time and again how powerful magic was, even though I only had a handful of useful abilities. It was time to expand on those and make them more effective. Since I didn¡¯t want to be observed by anyone, I took my bike and went a bit out of town, down one of the hiking paths that crisscrossed the area. I didn¡¯t go far enough to be in the real wilderness but followed the trail until I thought that it would be unlikely that I¡¯d encounter random people or have people observe what I was doing just by happenstance. I ended up stopping at a bench that was situated next to the lake, providing a beautiful view of the serene water, with the lasts wisps of the morning fog clearing away rapidly. The sunlight glittering on the mirror-like surface of the lake helped me forget the grim images of the corpses of the bikers I had killed the previous evening, and all the second-guessing I was going through. And I realized that I felt oddly giddy at the prospect of learning more magic. While gaining serious muscle mass in no time flat was exhilarating in its own way, it still paled to the feeling of mana rushing through my veins and changing the world around me in weird and astonishing ways. It had been more than two weeks by now, but I still couldn¡¯t quite get used to it. Shadow magic had been my VIP skillset so far, with Shadow Skin the most used spell I had. But instead of working on further variations of that, or figuring out new shadow spells, I first wanted to try and develop the fireball spell. It was a fucking fireball after all, even though my excitement had been dampened somewhat after observing the lackluster explosion of the red sphere during Jak¡¯lo¡¯s demonstration. But, at least, I had a fair idea of how it was supposed to work. Of course, the devil was in the detail, and I expected that it would take me a few hours to figure it all out. At least. And a fireball would add a much-needed offensive component to my spell arsenal, so it would be totally worth it. After that¡­ well, perhaps I should play around with silver mana and various combinations of other mana types a bit to see if I could come up with more synergies. If I wasn¡¯t going to buy spells and specialize in any one color,¡­ then I needed to make the most of my unique skill set. And looking at Aura of Droghul and how effective it was, I didn¡¯t doubt that combining different mana types would lead to some exciting and powerful new options. I just had to find them. Which was easier said than done without knowing much of anything. Instead of getting upset about that again, I just shrugged my shoulders, figuratively rolled up my sleeves and got to work. The first thing I needed to do was to get the red mana outside of my body and form a sphere. At least, I had some inkling on how to do that, based on my attempt to summon a flame. And while that hadn¡¯t gone particularly well, I had, at least, managed to conjure red mana outside of my body. What was left was to somehow form it into the shape I wanted. The first thing I noticed was that conjured mana didn¡¯t stay stable. It just, sort of, dissipated. Which caused me a bit of a headache, trying to grasp at the fleeting wisps of immaterial mana until I realized that I had shaped external mana before, with minor healing, at least when used on other people, and Aura of Droghul. In both situations, I had acted mostly instinctual and under high pressure, so that wasn¡¯t particularly helpful for right now. But after I thought some more about the differences and similarities to my current situation, I realized that in those cases, I had a clear image in mind of what I wanted to achieve. The same was true when I had tried to create a flame at the request of Jak¡¯lo, only that the result had been less than perfect. With that in mind, I imagined what I had seen Jak¡¯lo do ¨C streams of red mana cycling around each other in an intricate pattern that seemed to give the mana structure and stability. And slowly, but surely, the mana converged more and more closely to the image I had in mind. More often than I¡¯d like to admit, my focus wandered, and the whole thing fell apart, but I just started from the beginning yet again. After a couple of hours, I finally had something that resembled the fireball I had seen in Jak¡¯lo¡¯s hands, albeit a lot less smooth and even. But the most crucial part¡­ it was relatively stable. I only needed a smidgen of focus to keep the ball floating between my hands, which was essential if I ever wanted to use this in the middle of a big battle. As I inspected the construct floating in front of me, I could faintly make out a complex runic structure, that, as I understood it, represented what I had formed. It seemed less¡­ elegant and refined than what I had seen when Jak¡¯lo had used the spell, but the foundation was there. Now, I only needed to get the darn thing to move. Which turned out to be rather tricky, because I had no real good idea on how to go about that. Eventually, I figured out that I somehow needed to push, while at the same time providing extra red mana to ¡®fuel¡¯ the movement. The problem was that I wasn¡¯t able yet to hold on to the sphere while creating enough force to move the thing at the same time. So what if I focused on something more simple instead for the time being? Just as a proof of concept, I dissolved the sphere and instead just imagined red, fiery mana gushing forth from my outstretched hands, like a flamethrower. And this turned out to be much easier, indeed. Not that it was easy. But I didn¡¯t have to focus on maintaining a complex runic construct while also trying to figure out how to make it move where I wanted. A flamethrower was simple. Hold your hands where you want things to go¡­ and push. Kind of. It wasn¡¯t as if there was anything particular about hands that made red mana more likely to gush out of them. I could, presumably, have the red mana come out of my eyes instead, or the nose, both of which, frankly, would be looking seriously badass. But having it come out of the hands seemed the most natural location and the one making it the easiest to direct the mana flow. All I had to do was to make sure that I channeled the mana with sufficient pressure to the tips of my fingers and have it shoot out straight. The reach wasn¡¯t overly impressive, perhaps a couple of yards before the flames petered out, but It was also just the beginning of my experimentation, so maybe this could be improved down the road. The nice added benefit was that by having the flames come out of my fingers, I could spread my fingers and create a wide cone, or align my fingers next to each other to have a more focused beam. Chapter 46 - Fired Up IV What if pushed the red mana through one finger only? The flaming finger of death!? It turned out that it was indeed possible, which allowed me to exert more pressure and hence reach further, achieving a maximum of six yards, with my first two attempts. That was about three times the length compared to using ten fingers, at the cost of using about one-sixth of the mana perhaps. So the damage was going to be significantly smaller than using ten fingers, at the gain of more reach. Using more than one finger gave results somewhere in between. The main obstacle preventing me from pushing even more mana into a single finger was the limited capacity of my mana channel and the limits of my will power. I could literally feel, how my will pushed the mana, and how I was running into a barrier at some point, where my brain could not provide any more ¡®push.¡¯ And that was despite my diamond level channels and ridiculous willpower. Which made me wonder how much less others would be able to do¡­ At some point, I¡¯d have to compare. I had observed Jak¡¯lo, of course, but he wasn¡¯t the best comparison point after all, given his likely high levels and oodles of experience. Either way, I liked this spell. While I had never been a big fan of spells like ¡®flame cone¡¯ or ¡®burning hands¡¯ in pen and paper, or computer roleplaying games I had played¡­ this flamethrower effect was seriously impressive in reality. Just being able to continuously hose down stuff around me was not bad at all. The ability was a bit of a mana hog, with about ten red mana a second with the standard strength. But based on how the trees around me burst into flames when I scorched them for a couple of seconds, it had some oomph to it. And I could always overload them a bit, even though I could readily feel the extra effort and loss in efficiency that implied. I kept on working on the spell for another couple of hours and could feel a robust increase in control, stability, and speed of casting. And I kept on pushing, refining, practicing, completely ignoring my mental exhaustion, until, at some point, I felt as if things suddenly snapped into place. Eagerly, I checked my stats to see if I had learned a new spell.
Name Daniel Hollander Rank Initiate 9
Title: Mental Bastion (Mental Defense x2) First Initiate (Mana Recovery x2) Army of One (V +20%) Against the Mighty II (St +25%) Transformer (1:5) Droghul¡¯s Disciple (+Healing/Kill)
Strength: 12.5 [+1] Intuitive Reasoning: 15 Mana Free Current Potential
Agility: 10 [+2] Complex Reasoning: 19 [+1] Silver 0 94 94
Speed: 9 [+1] Emotional Intelligence: 9 Black 0 125 125
Dexterity: 9 [+2] Perception: 19 [+1] Amber 0 94 94
Endurance: 12 [+1] Spatial Awareness: 22 Red 2 5 94
Vitality: 12 [+1] Willpower: 23 [+1] Yellow 4 0 0
Green 2 0 0
Grey 2 0 0
Available characteristic points: 20 [-3]
Spells
Mana Vision Level 14 Twilight Vision Level 2Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
Minor Healing Level 10 Shadow Skin Level 6 [+1]
Shadow Sense Level 1 Midnight Skin Level 3
Partial Incorporeality Level 2 Aura of Droghul Level 3
Higrom¡¯s Touch Level 3 Heliod¡¯s Minor Heat Shield Level 0 [+0]
Scorching Flames Level 1 [+1]
Available spell points: 26
Skills
Mental Ward Level 8 Mental Fortitude Level 12
Multitasking Level 6 Internal Mana Manipulation Level 8
Meditation Level 6 External Mana Manipulation Level 7 [+3]
Enhanced Mana Recovery Level 2 Sword Fighting Level 10
Shadow Affinity Level 1
Available skill points: 10
And there it was. Scorching Flames. And due to my interaction with Jak¡¯lo I had also learned Heliod¡¯s Minor Heat Shield, even if only had level 0. I wasn¡¯t exactly sure what that meant, but my guess was that it implied that I had some basic understanding of the concept, perhaps had put together a working prototype, but it hadn¡¯t ¡®snapped into place¡¯ like the Scorching Flames spell. Beyond that, I could see the results of the previous day¡¯s workout. There were substantial changes across the board, even if, as I had noticed already earlier, at a much slower pace than before. And, of course, the three points I had spent into mental stats. And there was a significant jump in external mana manipulation, probably due to my extensive spell training today. Three additional points for a single day of fiddling around with mana weren¡¯t half bad and reinforced the belief that I shouldn¡¯t just dump skill points into these abilities at such an early stage. Even though I was delighted about having learned a new spell, I did want to experiment a bit more with combining two different mana types, perhaps find a new combination that would yield a powerful effect. But before embarking on that, I made the two free red mana part of my mana cycle and got another red mana from transforming five of the remaining free mana, so that I ended up with a grand total of ninety-seven. Every point counted, since practicing with the red mana and running the spell for a few seconds on full tilt had almost completely emptied me. Thinking how to go about combining two different mana types for some unique new effect, I realized that the main problem I was facing was that I had no clear image in mind. What had helped me tremendously in the dungeon was to see the artifact by Du¡¯Andrazzil at work and merely copying its effect. Not that getting a life-draining ability out of a combination of amber and black mana was that farfetched. But what about amber and red mana? Or red and black mana? I had no real idea of what to work on. Without any guidance on how to proceed, I decided to take a look at the rune structure of one of the simpler spells I possessed ¨C Minor Healing. I called forth amber mana and formed spell. Instead of executing it, I left it floating in front of my mind, and then began the mind-numbing work of trying to figure out what the components of the rune structure were for. I went through innumerable iterations of the same thing. First, I used my dagger to make a small, lightly bleeding cut into my arm and then recast the spell, this time with a target and I tried comparing the two rune-structures, to see if there was any added area or altered component. After doing and redoing the same thing for about twenty times, inflicting cuts all over my body, I finally identified an area that seemed to undergo a significant change with the target specified. And that area stayed the same, independently of what body part I was trying to heal, albeit with other changes in the structure. Afterward, I changed the mana levels I poured in, the type of wound I tried healing, the specific body component I wanted to heal, and on and on. It was exhausting work, but I felt I was gaining a rudimentary understanding of the make-up of the healing spell, one spell out of eleven spells¡­ and a basic one at that. Subsequently, I turned toward my other spells and kept on casting and recasting them in an effort to identify components of the rune-structure. After another two hours of working through innumerable iterations, I finally decided to postpone my studies, since I wasn¡¯t going to be able to develop a new spell any time soon. And whether I wanted to or not, I also needed to do a bit more of physical training. With a groan, I jumped back on my bike and pedaled back into town. In some way, training those spells had been relaxing and even fun, but I needed to keep in mind my ultimate goal. As I got into town, I noticed that people were unusually jumpy somehow, as if something had put a real scare into them. And many more people were carrying weapons now, compared to just a couple of days earlier. At the hotel, Ben and the others were lounging around the entrance. Well, lounging wasn¡¯t quite the right word ¨C for once they were actually working on stuff, Ben and Jimmy on magic, Sue and Betsy did some mock fighting, and Tom, well, Tom was carving something, which perhaps wasn¡¯t really some sort of training. Then again¡­ as I was watching, I noticed that Tom was not really carving the piece of wood, but¡­ shaping it with his hands. Which looked freaky and awesome at the same time. Either way, I was relieved to see that the group was actually trying to make progress and not rest on their laurels. ¡°Hey Daniel, what have you been up to?¡± Ben asked when I came in, dismissing a small whirlwind dancing on top of his hand with a flick of his wrist. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen you for like two days!¡± ¡°Yeah, I have been working on stuff,¡± I responded, as I walked into the lobby, and plopped myself heavily onto a chair. ¡°I see you are exercising as well?¡± ¡°We figured that we had to. This morning a bunch of gormlocks came into town attacking a few people. And yesterday evening, apparently someone, or something, killed four bikers within seconds!¡± ¡°Gormlocks?¡± ¡°Yeah, little coyote-like creatures, with fire-based abilities. They can shoot tiny fireballs at you. One by itself is not a huge problem, but when they come in a pack, it can get dicey real quick. From what I heard, they caught a couple of people out in the open, and it didn¡¯t end well for them.¡± ¡°The people or the gormlocks?¡± ¡°Duh, the people,¡± Ben snorted. ¡°All they found was charred, partially eaten bodies. A few people eventually chased them off, but they are still somewhere in the area. So, everyone is nervous.¡± ¡°And what about those bikers? What do people know?¡± ¡°So, there was a witness. A girl, Julianne, was running home in the dark for whatever reason and came across those bikers. Her story is a bit confusing, but she said that the bikers assaulted her and then suddenly someone shrouded in darkness, with silver-shining eyes came and saved her. It sure sounds like some adolescent fantasy, but there is no doubt that four bikers ended up dead, all of them killed with a sword.¡± ¡°Hmm, I see,¡± I responded, noncommittally. From the corner of my eyes, I could see all five of them stare at me, probably waiting for some type of further reaction. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t know anything about that, would you, Daniel?¡± Sue finally asked when I didn¡¯t respond further. ¡°Me? Why would you think so?¡± ¡°Well, I really don¡¯t know,¡± Sue drawled. ¡°Shadows, silver eyes¡­ just a hunch.¡± ¡°Oh, I see,¡± was all I said. ¡°Daniel, I¡¯d l-,¡± Ben started to say but was interrupted by Tom. ¡°Leave him be. I don¡¯t think anyone here cries about fewer assholes in the world, right?¡± ¡°Well, no, but-¡° ¡°No ¡®buts¡¯,¡± Tom said, more forcefully this time. ¡°Whoever it was, he did a good thing for all of us. I mean, they were going after Julianne¡­ she is, what, 15?¡± ¡°Fine,¡± Ben sighed, leaning back into his armchair before his eyes fixed on my face again. ¡°Another reason for our training is that we are going to go on another mission soon, some more scouting from what Golgariat has mentioned.¡± He briefly glanced at the others before continuing. ¡°And, well, I guess we were wondering if you¡¯d like to come along.¡± Hmm. That was a surprise. Somehow¡­ I thought that we were going to stay around here. But it made sense, now that I thought about it. I mean, everyone needed to chip in and do something to ensure our survival. And people needed to earn money too. But that begged the question of whether I wanted to join in on that. After all, it wasn¡¯t really part of my immediate plans. ¡°When do you need to leave?¡± I finally asked. ¡°The day after tomorrow,¡± Ben responded. ¡°We¡¯ll be out in the wilderness for a couple of days at least.¡± ¡°Wow, that is kind of short notice,¡± I said, deep in thought. ¡°Hah, yeah, because we¡¯re all super busy, right?¡± Sue cackled. ¡°I actually am,¡± I responded, almost defensively. ¡°I am training my magic and my physical and mental stats. I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever been as busy in my life.¡± Sue started laughing. ¡°Daniel, Daniel, Daniel. Why the rush? We have food, we live in a fucking hotel for free, we have,¡± she shot a gust of wind at my face, ¡±magic. What are you pushing yourself so hard for?¡± ¡°I, for one, would like to survive my next tough fight. As I see it, things are going to get harder soon. And I¡¯d rather be able to protect myself than beg someone else to do it for me, like the EFU,¡± I said, glaring at Sue. ¡°Ouch,¡± Betsy giggled from the side. ¡°Eat that, Sue!¡± ¡°Fuck you, Betsy,¡± Sue groused. ¡°And what are you training on, Daniel, that you can¡¯t work on while going on some mission with us? You do know that practicing skills under pressure is a lot more conducive to leveling, right?¡± Fuck, I actually hadn¡¯t known that. But I supposed it made sense, given the tremendous advances I had made in some of my skills and spells while in the dungeon. And I still didn¡¯t understand how I had managed to come up with some of my spells on the fly¡­ perhaps it was the pressure situation, or the ¡®system,¡¯ if there was such a thing, giving a helpful hand. Or maybe something altogether different. But none of that really changed the issue at hand¡­ I needed to level my physical stats, and there was no better way to do that than a dedicated workout regime. Real action was good, but it wasn¡¯t as effective per hour spent. And the real reason why I was in such a rush, was that I still had hope that Annie was somewhere imprisoned in the biker motel. Of course, if she was still alive by now, there was no reason to believe that she wouldn¡¯t be a few days down the road ¡­ but still, I felt that each day counted. Just thinking of what she might be going through... a shiver ran down my spine as I imagined a creep like Eddie taking advantage of a helpless Annie. But there wasn¡¯t really any reason why I couldn¡¯t tell the others about my plans either. After all, they seemed to already strongly suspect that I had killed those bikers and hadn¡¯t really given me any grief about it. Well, maybe Ben wasn¡¯t exactly happy, based on his reaction, but there seemed to be a tacit understanding that the bikers were bad dudes and that it was better for everyone if some, or all, disappeared. After a brief hesitation, I finally blurted out: ¡°So, frankly, the reason I am pushing myself really hard, is because I am hoping that Annie is somewhere in the biker compound and I am going to go in and save her.¡± So, there it was. I had said it. They looked at each other as if silently communicating. For a moment, no one said anything until Tom broke the silence. ¡°Good.¡± ¡°Good?¡± I was befuddled for a moment. That was all the reaction? I had expected some incredulity or outrage, perhaps some advice to be cautious, to take it easy, or even get some help from other people. Or even some counseling on the futility of my hope or some shit like that. But all I got was ¡®good.¡¯ Granted, that was Tom. So, perhaps, I shouldn¡¯t have expected a whole lot more from him. ¡°What he is trying to say,¡± Ben said as a way of explanation, ¡°is that we all had thought that she might be imprisoned in there, but no one had the guts to go in and save her, or even make sure that she was truly there. So we respect your resolve. But,¡± he continued, ¡°I think that it is way too dangerous for a single person to just go in there.¡± ¡°So, what do you suggest?¡± I asked with a bit of scorn in my voice. ¡°That I wait for another fifty people to get brave enough to confront those scumbags? Sorry to break the news¡­ but if it hasn¡¯t happened in two weeks, it won¡¯t ever happen.¡± ¡°Well, I agree,¡± Ben said. ¡°It is unlikely that you will find another fifty people. But there has been some grumbling, and the playing field is a lot more level than just a week or two earlier. The bikers are well organized, but other people are now getting training in weapons and magic and are much better able to hold their own. I can¡¯t promise they will be ready for a confrontation, but,¡± he looked at the others for a second, ¡±we¡¯re ready to help you.¡± Chapter 46 - Fired Up V The offer to help had caught me completely off guard. There I had thought that I was on my own. A one-man vigilante team, trying to save the world, or, at the very least, Annie. Only to realize that, in fact, I wasn¡¯t alone, that there were other people around that cared. Good people. For a little while, I was quite emotional, sitting in my chair, unable to talk coherently. And then we talked about what to do, how to move forward. I was still planning on doing most of the dangerous stuff on my own, simply because I felt I was the person for the job, with my stealth skills, and my more extensive fighting experience, not to mention the willingness to be ruthless if needed. But it was nice to see that I had support, that someone was going to have my back. And they¡¯d chip in with trying to gather information about the bikers and help me train if needed. And they were ready to provide some back-up when I was going to go in, just in case things went South. For the remainder of the day, I decided that I needed to work on my physical stats some more. To my surprise, Sue decided to join me, which I was actually quite happy about, despite her being sometimes aggravating. It just might give me that extra jolt of motivation that I needed¡­ I felt that I was close to reaching my pre-accident physical levels, which would enable me to finally spend all those characteristic points I had accumulated over the last couple of weeks and realize my full potential. Throughout the afternoon, I could feel Sue¡¯s eyes on me, measuring, evaluating. And it pushed me harder than ever. And, not that it should have mattered, but it was immensely satisfying to see how I was getting closer to Sue¡¯s level of fitness every minute. And she noticed it too, which pushed her to work harder as well, just to try to stay ahead. It became a bit of a race, which was exactly what I needed. After about five hours, I was absolutely beat and decided to take a break. Sue was sitting next to me, drenched in sweat and with a heaving chest from the set of suicide sprints she had just finished a moment earlier. To be honest, it was a bit distracting, especially because she hadn¡¯t done too much to piss me off for the last few hours¡­ in fact, now that I thought about it, she had been uncharacteristically quiet. But overall, this had been a great session. I just wished that I could somehow invigorate myself by using mana, without hindering my progress¡­ As I had already determined, amber mana couldn¡¯t help, because lactic acid wasn¡¯t an injury, and healing the tears in the muscles would simply undo all the work I had put in previously. My mind was mulling over the problem as I was mechanically chewing through yet another cereal bar. There was something there, at the back of my mind. Why did people eat cereal bars or brown bananas at sports? Energy¡­ So¡­ how about circumventing the process of eating to obtain energy and, instead, providing the power directly? And of all the mana types I had experience with so far, red mana seemed the one that was most directly aligned with energy. Could I then, perhaps, use red mana to invigorate muscles? I remembered that when I had almost died in the dungeon, my body, or perhaps divine intervention, had operated essential organs with energy provided by red mana. So, in principle, it should be possible for me to replicate that. In fact, that should be more effective than removing lactic acid anyway. After all, I wasn¡¯t so much worried about the pain or discomfort of the lactic acid. What mattered was my ability to keep pushing, for which I needed reinvigorated muscles. For that matter, from what I remembered, lactic acid was a byproduct of breaking down glucose for energy if there isn¡¯t enough oxygen. If instead of burning glucose, I burned red mana, I¡¯d avoid creating lactic acid in the first place. Suddenly excited, I jumped up from the floor, causing Sue to shoot me an alarmed look. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± ¡°Nothing, sorry, I just had an idea about mana¡­,¡± I said while pacing around deep in thought. How the heck did the body transform food into energy? How did that actually work? If I wanted to experiment with fire inside of my body, I had to make darn sure that I got it right. I needed to get my hands on some biology books. ¡°Sue, I think we are done for now¡­ I need to read up on something for a little bit. Will you be alright getting back to the hotel on your own?¡± Sue breathed a deep sigh of relief. ¡°About fucking time! I thought you¡¯d keep torturing me for the rest of the evening!¡± ¡°Hey, I didn¡¯t force you to do anything,¡± I protested, before continuing with a smirk. ¡°But if you can¡¯t keep up¡­ I can understand. Must be tough.¡± ¡°Fuck you, Daniel!¡± Sue grumbled, before lifting herself off the floor with a grimace. ¡°I can still kick your ass, you know?¡± I just laughed and shrugged my shoulders. ¡°I am sure. I¡¯ll see all of you then later at the hotel.¡± Sue just grunted, before leaving the gym in her sweat-soaked clothes. Shaking my head, I changed into a fresh, oversized t-shirt and made my way over to the local library. The building felt abandoned and somewhat eerie without any lights inside and no librarians busily shelving books or checking things out. A few minutes later, I sat down at a table with a small stack of books about human biology. It took me a while to find the correct pages, but eventually, I found a section that provided a reasonably detailed explanation of the process of how the body used the energy obtained from food intake. The way I understood it, breaking down glucose into water and carbon dioxide released energy that then was used to bond inorganic phosphate to adenosine diphosphate to form adenosine triphosphate, kind of like charging a battery. Breaking this bond later released the stored energy, which then was used by the muscles. So, if I was able to provide energy, then the best place to set in was to replace the role of glucose and directly fuel the bonding of phosphate to adenosine diphosphate. And if I could manage that¡­ this had huge implications. Not only could I extend any workout indefinitely, or at least as long as my red mana lasted, and all without the side effect of lactic acid, but this also implied that I¡¯d be much less reliant on oxygen in the future and food, for that matter. I still needed some of that for vitamins and other stuff, but at least I could, in a pinch, jump in with red mana and fuel my body for brief periods. Giddy with excitement, I fell into a meditative trance, trying to trace those microscopic processes. It took a long while for my mind to be able to focus sufficiently to go down to that level. Still, eventually, I became aware of the cell-level processes ¨C a truly alien world, that caused me to gaze around in wonder and amazement. Focusing again on the task at hand, I flexed my biceps and carefully observed what was going on. And while reality looked much different from the abstract models I could see in the textbook, I was, ultimately, able to track down the actual process, not on the molecular level, but close enough to be able to direct my red mana meaningfully. Slightly shaking with a sudden bout of nervousness, I infused some energy into a tiny area, willing it to charge the inert phosphate molecules and then nudged them with some additional red mana toward the adenosine diphosphate molecules. Almost immediately, I could¡­ not precisely see, but feel a bloom of energy that burned the surrounding tissue, melting cells in the process. It was on the microscopic level, but I could still feel a tiny prick of pain shoot through my body. Fuck. Too much. Holding my breath, I redid the experiment with a lot less energy, but this time there was no movement whatsoever. It took a few more attempts before I got it right. But finally, I managed to link a bunch of the two molecules, creating new structures that felt, to my inexperienced eye, more energy-rich, and hopefully were adenosine triphosphate molecules. Success! Now to replicate this process¡­ I spread my awareness and willed the red mana to copy the steps I had taken previously to multiple molecules at once. I had a clear, incredibly detailed image in my mind, I had the intent, and the willpower to push. For a moment, there was an almost sluggish resistance, as if there was some inertia that I had to overcome. But I paid no heed and just pushed through. And then things were suddenly moving. A flood of red mana rushed into the muscle I was targeting, and in front of my eyes, millions of molecules began to rearrange themselves. For a split second, I got scared, fearing that maybe, the spell had gone haywire and was going to burn me from the inside out. But when nothing bad happened for a few moments, I began to relax. Curious, I cast Mana Vision and observed the spell at work inside the muscle. A complex structure of runes raced through the blood, guiding the mana to where it was supposed to go. And, at a glance, it seemed that there were some similarities to the Minor Healing Spell that I had studied earlier¡­ something that might be quite useful for learning more about how spells worked. But what about this spell¡­ did it have the results I was hoping for? Time to try it out. I bent down, grabbed one of the heavy chairs the library was using and proceeded to do a few biceps curls. And the change was nothing short of miraculous. Where I had felt exhausted and weak before, I was almost vibrating with energy. At least in my biceps. The rest of the muscles felt still weak and protested loudly against the additional abuse, but that was something that I could change quickly. Grinning like an idiot, I repeated the spell for the rest of my body and was almost shaking with the amount of energy I suddenly had available. Ready for some more reps, I sprinted back to the gym like a man possessed, causing bemusement in some people I passed, whereas others clearly were alarmed. Once I was back there, I packed the workout of half a day into two highly intense hours of punishing strength and speed exercises. And I still didn¡¯t feel exhausted! But I slowly was running out of red mana. While each usage of the spell wasn¡¯t too mana intensive, I had to use the spell more and more frequently, and the effect seemed to be diminishing after each application. So other things were at play. But overall, this had been an enormous success. Flush with the feeling of accomplishment, I made my way back to the hotel through streets painted red by the magnificent sunset. As I entered the hotel, the five others were sitting around in their armchairs, sipping on some iced drinks. With an exhausted grunt, I plopped myself into one of the empty chairs and reached for a can of coke, only to find that it was lukewarm. With a snort of disgust, I handed the can to Jimmy. ¡°Ice, please!¡± ¡°What? Am I your servant now?¡± Jimmy complained, but then put his hands around the can for a few seconds, before handing it back. It was cold, covered in condensation, and absolutely mind-numbingly delicious.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. And unhealthy as hell, but who cared about that. Soon enough, there wasn¡¯t going to be any more coke, ever. I had to savor it while I could. Luckily, I had never really gotten into coffee or hot chocolate or any of that stuff, so I wasn¡¯t going to miss those drinks. But coke¡­ yeah, it would be a sad day when we ran out of it. ¡°So, Daniel, how did the day go?¡± Ben asked. ¡°Sue mentioned that you worked out like a maniac¡­ Did you get any results from all that?¡± ¡°It went alright, I guess,¡± I said and moved up my sleeves to flex my biceps. ¡°At least, I am starting to see some definition now.¡± ¡°Holy hell,¡± Jimmy burst out. ¡°How the heck have you gotten so ripped in like three days?¡± ¡°Ripped?¡± Sue chortled. ¡°Perhaps ripped in comparison to you, Jimmy. But I give you that he is not the skinny dude from a few days ago any longer.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± I mused. ¡°I have never been the bodybuilder type. But that means I am close to reaching my pre-accident levels.¡± ¡°And then what?¡± Betsy asked. ¡°Will you just continue to keep working out? What is the end-goal?¡± ¡°Not sure¡­ I haven¡¯t really thought about it to be honest. The main objective was to reach my previous level because that is fairly low-hanging fruit. And then I am going to spend points on¡­ well, some of my stats. Not sure yet which. I have to figure out what I will need the most.¡± ¡°Strength,¡± Sue said. ¡°Na, agility,¡± Betsy argued. ¡°How strong do you have to be to stick a sword into something? What you need is agility for evasion and to actually manage to position yourself.¡± ¡°I think, speed and intelligence,¡± Jimmy said after a moment. ¡°And why is that, Jimmy boy?¡± Sue demanded in her infuriatingly, condescending tone. ¡°Well, speed to run away and intelligence to know when to run!¡± Jimmy stated matter of fact. ¡°Ah, but intelligence isn¡¯t really that good for that, right?¡± Betsy argued. ¡°That¡¯d be more wisdom, which isn¡¯t something the system assesses.¡± ¡°Well, you might be right on that,¡± Jimmy had to admit. ¡°But still, I like intelligence. It¡¯s good to be able to understand this new world. We¡¯ll need to uncover the laws guiding things.¡± That was my keyword. ¡°Speaking of¡­ I¡¯d like to request your help during the coming days on something. I¡¯m trying to understand how spells work by comparing the differences in spell structure across mana types and spells.¡± ¡°Sure thing, buster,¡± Sue said while leaning back into her chair with her eyes closed. The others just nodded their heads, not even bothering to respond further and, instead, enjoyed the calm evening. ------------------------------------------- After an uneventful night, I tried to get up early in the morning, but was barely able to even lift my legs, not to speak of my arms, or really any part of my body - I had the most intense muscle pain I could have ever imagined. In some sense, that was a good pain, because it showed that I had really done my workout right. But it was too much. I really wanted to just stay in bed and do nothing. Until Sue waltzed into my room and shouted: ¡°Rise and shine, sleepyhead!¡± ¡°What the fuck, Sue,¡± I shouted, trying desperately to pull a bedsheet over myself. ¡°Look at that,¡± Sue whistled. ¡°You really put on some muscle in the last few days! Maybe I should reconsider things!¡± ¡°Uhm,¡± was all I managed to say at first, too embarrassed by her rather blatant staring and the veiled reference. But then I realized that she had absolutely no intention of leaving. ¡°Do you mind, like fucking getting out of the room?¡± Sue pouted her lips. ¡°But why? I like what I am seeing.¡± ¡°Sue! Get. The. Fuck. Out.¡± With her trademark pearly laughter, she finally turned around and walked out of the room, but not without giving me another wink. ¡°What a bitch,¡± I grumbled to myself. If she were really attracted to me, it¡¯d be a different story, then I might even like the attention. But I was sure that she was toying with me, and that annoyed the heck out of me. At least, it had gotten me to move, so there was something good about it. Without her coming in, I might have just stayed in bed for another hour or two. Walking like a robot, with stiff arms and legs, I wolfed down a quick breakfast, mostly consisting of some crackers with jam, and dry cereal, before heading off to the gym once more. I was getting fucking sick of that place. But this was the last visit, for the time being, I swore to myself. And the prospect of finally getting done even gave a little hop to my steps. A few hours of a red-mana-fueled, intense workout later, I felt that I had achieved what I could. I wasn¡¯t exactly buff, but I felt strong. Certainly, stronger than my looks, which was probably due to the strength-enhancing title. I looked like a reasonably athletic guy with some muscle, but nothing huge. Just in line with your average college kid that is seriously engaged in a sport. And then, somehow, the system made my effective strength a lot higher. Which also begged the question of where I should put my points. Strength gave me the most bang for the buck because of the twenty-five percent bonus. It was a given that I¡¯d put a few points in there just because I had already experienced first-hand how hard it was to injure high-leveled creatures without some serious strength behind the strikes. That said, with the power behind some of my potential adversaries, a good defense was paramount as well, which included the ability to tank a few hits or to dodge the strikes in the first place. I was already good at anticipating attacks, but I lacked the agility to get away from what I saw coming¡­ Fuck, this was hard. Slowly, I made my way back to the hotel, greeted the others briefly in the foyer, and then locked myself into my room to finally spend some points. First, I took another look at my current stats. I could see solid but unspectacular gains for most physical stats, just as I had expected, with strength, agility, and speed increasing by two points each and endurance and vitality by one. There was no change in dexterity, which wasn¡¯t surprising because I hadn¡¯t worked on that all that much. Given the sheer intensity of the workout, the modest increase also reinforced my belief that it was time to spend a few points. In the end, I decided to put three points into strength, agility, and vitality each and bringing perception up by two points as well. The remaining points I wanted to preserve for the time being, until I could figure out how important intelligence, for instance, was in comparison to even higher physical stats. Needless to say, the process was torture. My body was wracked by spasms and cramps, and at times all I could do was to stuff a rag into my mouth to prevent myself from screaming myself hoarse. But eventually, many hours later, it was over, and I felt absolutely ravenous. Quickly, I grabbed a huge pile of food from my bag of holding and began to stuff myself while looking at my new stats.
Name Daniel Hollander Rank Initiate 9
Title: Mental Bastion (Mental Defense x2) First Initiate (Mana Recovery x2) Army of One (V +20%) Against the Mighty II (St +25%) Transformer (1:5) Droghul¡¯s Disciple (+Healing/Kill)
Strength: 18.75 [+5] Intuitive Reasoning: 15 Mana Free Current Potential
Agility: 15 [+5] Complex Reasoning: 19 Silver 0 94 94
Speed: 11 [+2] Emotional Intelligence: 9 Black 0 125 125
Dexterity: 9 Perception: 21 [+2] Amber 0 94 94
Endurance: 13 [+1] Spatial Awareness: 22 Red 0 50 97
Vitality: 16.8 [+4] Willpower: 23 Yellow 3 0 0
Available characteristic points: 9 [-11]
Spells
Mana Vision Level 14 Twilight Vision Level 2
Minor Healing Level 10 Shadow Skin Level 6
Shadow Sense Level 1 Midnight Skin Level 3
Partial Incorporeality Level 2 Aura of Droghul Level 3
Higrom¡¯s Touch Level 3 Heliod¡¯s Minor Heat Shield Level 0
Scorching Flames Level 1 Rush of Energy Level 1 [+1]
Available spell points: 26
Skills
Mental Ward Level 8 Mental Fortitude Level 12
Multitasking Level 6 Internal Mana Manipulation Level 10 [+2]
Meditation Level 7 [+1] External Mana Manipulation Level 7
Enhanced Mana Recovery Level 2 Sword Fighting Level 10
Shadow Affinity Level 1
Available skill points: 10
It looked good. And I felt the changes. Looking at my arms, I could see corded muscles, a striking change in comparison to the previous moderate definition. It wasn¡¯t bodybuilder-like, but I looked sharp, and healthy ¨C with nice, unblemished skin, clear nasal passages, and a body that practically vibrated with energy. It was time to bring some pain to the bikers. ---------------------------------------------- ¡°What is he doing for that long,¡± Sue asked no one in particular while chewing on her nails. ¡°He should have been done hours ago!¡± Ben looked up from his book. ¡°Relax, Sue, maybe he took a nap afterward. It is an exhausting process, as you remember.¡± ¡°Yeah, I know. But still. He is level 9¡­ so he should have had around nine points. And he said before that he already had spent a few on mental stats. So, it could be at most¡­ what, five points? Maybe six?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll see soon enough,¡± Betsy said from the side. ¡°Unless he ended up putting it into intelligence, as I proposed,¡± Jimmy added. ¡°I sure hope that he didn¡¯t,¡± Sue groused. ¡°He is already plenty smart. Did you know that he was studying physics?¡± Jimmy scrutinized Sue¡¯s face for a moment. ¡°Guys, you know what I think? Sue actually likes Daniel!¡± Sue glared at him. ¡°Shut up, Jimmy! You kno-¡± ¡°He is coming down,¡± Tom interrupted her. And, indeed, Daniel was stepping down the stairs, moving gingerly, as if he was somewhat unsure of his body. ¡°Hey, guys, I am done for now. I¡¯ll go and scout the bikers a bit more. Anyone care to join?¡± Jimmy handed a cold coke to Daniel. ¡°Congratulations, Daniel. It seems like things worked out well. You are looking good. What did you end up boosting, if you don¡¯t mind me asking?¡± ¡°Not at all. I boosted strength, agility, vitality, and perception. I figured those were the most essential ones for the short term.¡± ¡°Are you sure that spreading things out that much is the best strategy? A single point more or less doesn¡¯t make a huge difference for any one stat.¡± ¡°I thought about it¡­ but since I was able to spend more than one point into each, I figured it was worthwhile to improve my overall capabilities. No glass cannon approach for me!¡± ¡°I can¡¯t believe it¡­¡± Sue grumbled. ¡°How many points did you spent?¡± ¡°Eleven points.¡± Sue couldn¡¯t believe her ears. That was a huge number. How the fuck did he do that? He had come out of nowhere, a skinny, weak dude, slightly awkward. And days later¡­ Sue couldn¡¯t take her eyes off the way his t-shirt stretched over his chest and the shredded physique. But then she had to chuckle. He was still awkward, though. Chapter 47 – One-on-one with Betsy Surreptitiously, I checked my t-shirt and pants. For some reason, Sue was staring at me, which made me feel a bit insecure. Was it the stain right above the stomach? Or the pants that were way too tight, especially after I had gained all that extra muscle? But none of the others made any indication that I looked weird, so I chalked it off to one of her weird quirks. She did seem to be a bit spaced out¡­ ¡°Anyway,¡± I said after a moment of silence. ¡°I am off to walk around a bit and check on the bikers. I need to get used to¡­ all those physical changes.¡± It was slightly unsettling to experience the result of the massive changes that my body had gone through. My balance was somewhat off, my timing, coordination. Everything felt¡­ wrong. When regaining those stats through training, my brain apparently had sufficient time to adjust, even if the changes happened extremely fast compared to the world I had been used to. But spending points¡­ that was a different story. Which raised a good point¡­ ¡°Uhm, Jimmy, I just realized¡­ you said that it is well-known that the body adjusts to pre-injury status quickly, based on a self-image one has¡­ but what happens if I use points and suddenly am stronger than I have ever been? Will I revert back?¡± Jimmy chuckled while shaking his head. ¡°Maybe you should have asked that question first, before dumping all those points in there. I thought you were smart!¡± Chagrined, I shrugged my shoulders. ¡°Well, it¡¯s not unheard of that I forget some important details.¡± ¡°Well, in this case, it didn¡¯t cause any harm,¡± Jimmy said to my relief. ¡°The ¡®system¡¯ alters your brain accordingly. It is not instantaneous, but fast enough so that your body won¡¯t work against you. But, if you were to increase your muscle mass using mana, something that green mana can do, for example, then that will disappear soon after.¡± Dodged a bullet there. But then again, the evidence so far had been relatively clear that points used to bolster characteristics were there to stay. After all, people like Golgiat and Jak¡¯lo had spent their points a long while ago, and unless Jak¡¯lo was an absolute freak, he¡¯d not have intelligence in the mid-twenties naturally. Still, it was nice to hear confirmation from the resident expert. But enough of lollygagging. ¡°Thanks, Jimmy. Time for a midnight stroll for me!¡± ¡°I¡¯ll join you,¡± Betsy said before I had taken more than a step. Which came as a big surprise. So far, Betsy had been kind of reserved. Not like cold, but also not really part of the friendly ribbing and all that. Perhaps she was just the quiet type. But whereas Sue was always up for doing stuff, talking smack, and challenging me wherever she could, Betsy had been¡­ well, doing her own thing, and more oriented toward the rest of her group instead of me. And if anyone, I would have thought Sue to volunteer, but she had stayed oddly quiet the whole time. But either way, I was glad for the company. I wasn¡¯t likely to be going into the bikers¡¯ compound this night anyway, so having her around wasn¡¯t going to be a liability. And perhaps it was a good opportunity to get to know her a bit better. As we made our way along Main Street, I realized again how quiet everything was. It wasn¡¯t as if Lake Placid had every been a noisy town.. but you¡¯d hear the humming of the air conditioners, a dog barking somewhere, maybe even a few people coming home from whatever party they had been attending. Usually, I liked the silence, but somehow, this night, it felt oppressive. As if something terrible was going to happen, the stillness a portent of disaster, like the quiet before the storm. Subconsciously, I clutched my sword harder, ready to react at a moment¡¯s notice. I strained my ears, to hear something, but to no avail - the only noise was coming from our soft footsteps on the asphalt and our breathing. ¡°Daniel,¡± Betsy whispered. ¡°Are you sure it is a good idea to be out here?¡± ¡°I really don¡¯t know,¡± I responded quietly. ¡°But I need to go there. If you want, you can head back, though.¡± For a moment, Betsy seemed to be wavering, but then she shook her head resolutely, and motioned me to continue walking. She was a gutsy lady, for sure. Where Sue had flinched from killing a gar, Betsy had not hesitated even once. Despite the ominous feeling of impending doom, nothing noteworthy happened. There were some noises in the distance, like a yapping sound, but that quickly subsided, and then it was quiet again. Soon after, we arrived at the hotel of the bikers, careful to stand hidden in the deep shadows of the oak trees planted in the little park adjacent to the compound. Not surprisingly, there were no lights in any of the windows. But, of course, the bikers guarding the lobby either had no idea how to guard properly, or they just didn¡¯t care. Which was in line with what I had observed previously. Instead of remaining hidden, somewhere behind the doors, or at least in some easily fortifiable location, they were lounging on armchairs. And rather than staying quiet, they were talking animatedly with each other, even if with muted voices, and smoking cigarettes. The glimmering points on their smokes were clearly giving away their location. The guard on the roof did a better job of hiding his presence. But after a few minutes of quiet observation, we were able to see some movement there as well. ¡°So what¡¯s the plan,¡± Betsy whispered in my ear, which caused me to twitch slightly. That was¡­ way too close for comfort, even if it was oddly¡­ tingling. Focus, Daniel. You have never even looked twice at Betsy before¡­ ¡°Let¡¯s just stay and watch for a bit, I want to see if they change guards and if there is movement behind any of the windows. It is hard to imagine that they¡¯re all sleeping already.¡± ¡°Perhaps we should go to¡­ maybe one of those buildings across the street? I think they are mostly empty.¡± At first, I wanted to brush off her suggestion, but then I figured that there wasn¡¯t really a good reason to do so. Yes, it reduced the number of exits we had for an escape, but on the other hand, it provided even better cover and felt¡­ safer. A few minutes later, we approached one of the houses from the backyard. Luckily, someone had smashed one of the French doors leading into the house at some point, presumably to loot the property, so it was easy enough for us to get inside and find our way to a second-level room with a window pointing at the hotel. The room turned out to be for a little kid, based on the blue theme probably a boy, with toys spread all over the floor, and lots of stars, little spaceships, and moon stickers covering the ceiling over the bunk bed. It was a grim reminder of the toll the transition to this new world had taken ¨C a cost that those without kids or elderly parents were more prone to forget about. Betsy¡¯s face looked grim as she made her way to the window. Even though she didn¡¯t say it, it was clear that she had thought as well about the human suffering and the tragedies many people had experienced during these last couple of weeks. Similar to me, she had been in the enviable position of not having a family or a lover with her that had simply disappeared, like it had been the case for Ben. But even if there was no spouse or kids, most of us had parents that we might never see again. Shaking off the sad feelings, I joined Betsy at the window and started watching what happened on the other side of the street. As it turned out, not much occurred. As we settled in for a lengthy wait, I turned to Betsy. ¡°So what drives you, Betsy?¡± ¡°Hmm?¡± She responded distractedly. ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Like, you train, you go on missions, you¡­ try to get stronger¡­ why?¡± ¡°Well, what are the alternatives?¡± Betsy asked. ¡°Sit around and do nothing? That is not me. I am¡­ driven. Always have been.¡± ¡°But driven by what?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­ just master new skills? That is how I picked up engineering. When I was younger, my dad would give me those building sets - Lego, first. Then Lego Technic. Soon I moved on to models; I always enjoyed building stuff. And when my girlfriends would go and study languages, or business, or whatever struck their fancy¡­ I went on to engineering, even though I was only one of three girls in a cohort of two hundred.¡± ¡°So, how was that?¡± ¡°Awkward. Hundreds of college guys, constantly trying to impress the only three girls in their classes. At least, it was easy to find people for group work.¡±If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. I had to chuckle at that. ¡°I guess guys are like that.¡± Betsy rolled her eyes. ¡°Oh, man, you have no idea.¡± ¡°But so, going back to what drives you¡­ what is mastery? Is that all that there is for you? Do you even get satisfaction from mastering something?¡± ¡°Well¡­ good question,¡± Betsy admitted. ¡°When I got my engineering degree, I was happy, but then there was the next challenge of proving men in the business that a woman could do things just as well as they did, or even better. So I guess¡­ yes, I get satisfaction, but it is fleeting.¡± After a moment, she continued. ¡°And mastery¡­ so I have been working on water magic, and I like to get good at it. It is just so amazing, the feeling of mana flowing through my body, the ability to form water in shapes defying all laws of physics that we are familiar with. And I know that sounds a bit like hubris¡­ but I want to become the best at it. Many people say that water magic is perhaps the most useless of the mana abilities, but I think it has immense potential if you just get good enough at it. And so that is what I want to do. And it is nice that the system provides us with a quantifiable measure of our ability. So I try to push that, see how high I can get.¡± ¡°Is there a highest possible level?¡± ¡°Jak¡¯lo said that the theoretical limit is level 100.¡± ¡°Level 100, huh? I guess I still have ways to go,¡± I mumbled. ¡°Yeah, right?¡± Betsy chuckled. ¡°My highest spell is at level 22, and it seems like progression gets more and more difficult with every level.¡± ¡°But what about beyond learning magic and getting better at skills?¡± I asked, curious if she was just two dimensional, someone who only had a single, well-defined goal in life, and was going after it with blinders for everything else left and right. Somehow, I hadn¡¯t had that impression of her. Betsy giggled. ¡°This sounds like talking to a shrink. But to answer your question¡­ I am really not sure. I am a bit aimless right now, with everything kind of turning crazy. Once things settle down, though¡­ well, I wouldn¡¯t mind finding a nice guy too, you know, have like a family, I suppose.¡± ¡°So, you¡¯d like to have kids?¡± I asked, somehow surprised. ¡°Yeah, I think I¡¯d like that. I always liked kids. They are so adorable when small, and I¡¯d like to teach them things, you know? You don¡¯t want any kids?¡± ¡°Hell no,¡± I blurted out. ¡°Kids are like way too much work. And they are annoying little brats, more often than not.¡± Again, Betsy chuckled, as if I just had something funny. ¡°I see. How about a girlfriend?¡± Fuck, was Betsy hitting on me? I mean, she was nice and all¡­ but she was like 33. Cute for her age, but¡­ well, still freaking old! ¡°Uhm, I ¡­, haven¡¯t, I mean¡­¡± I stammered. ¡°Sooo¡­. you haven¡¯t thought about it?¡± Betsy asked, teasingly. ¡°Is there anyone you like?¡± ¡°I¡­ well¡­¡± Dammit, Daniel, think! There had to be a way out of this without offending her. ¡°Sue?¡± Betsy continued to probe. ¡°What? Sue?¡± That had come out of the left field. Why would I be interested in Sue? I mean, she was cute as heck¡­ but also kind of old. Even though¡­ 28 wasn¡¯t that much older if I thought about it. But she was also annoying the heck out of me, more often than not. Then again, she was cool and fun in other ways. But I didn¡¯t think that she was interested in me, and, of course, there was also Annie¡­. What a mess. Before I could form a coherent response, I suddenly spotted movement on the roof of the hotel of the bikers. And even though I could barely make out the figure, the suddenness of the movement, spoke of a certain degree of surprise or alarm. ¡°Betsy, something is happening.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t see anything,¡± Betsy said, scanning the darkness. ¡°No, wait, there is something there¡­ someone is coming.¡± And then we could hear panicked screams in the distance. Someone, or something, was attacking Lake Placid. And the screams seemed to come from all over. When the first of the squat creatures approached the hotel of the bikers, it became clear who was causing the panic ¨C gars, armed to the teeth, with their terrifying reaver dogs on long leashes. Moments after we could make out the hulking figures, the biker on the rooftop was screaming the alarm and began to pepper the gars with arrows. And he wasn¡¯t a bad shot either. In the first few seconds, I could already see a couple of his arrows finding their mark in the mass of gars rushing toward the building. The guards at the entrance didn¡¯t do quite as well. Inattentive as they were, the gars sprinting toward them had caught them completely flat-footed, and before they could mount any sort of effectual resistance, they were overwhelmed and slaughtered. Luckily for the rest of the bikers, there was someone else just inside the foyer that had had those precious few extra seconds to get himself ready and was in a better defensive position to delay the gars until there could be reinforcement by the remaining bikers. But the way I saw it¡­ this fight wasn¡¯t going to go well for the Hell¡¯s Devils. Which put me in a bit of a quandary. On the one hand, I¡¯d be happy to let the gars do the work for me. It¡¯d be way safer for me like that, and I couldn¡¯t even be blamed for going on a killing rampage of fellow humans afterward. On the other hand¡­ arguably the gars were a lot worse than the bikers, and when it came down to it, I should perhaps support fellow humans against those vile creatures, just to increase the odds of any of us surviving this night and the coming days and weeks. And that didn¡¯t even take into consideration that Annie was, perhaps, in that building, in some dank and dark basement room, and would be slaughtered with the rest of the bikers if they got overrun. ¡°I need to give them a hand, I think,¡± I whispered to Betsy. At first, she thought I was crazy, but when I explained my reasoning to her in a few quick words, she readily agreed to help out as well. Careful to not make any noise, we made our way down and opened the front door. Just across the street and the little parking lot in front of the motel, we could see dark figures milling around and heard the clash of weapons, interspersed with grunting, and screaming, an indication of the life and death struggle taking place just a short distance from us. Suddenly, a massive flaming sphere appeared in the hands of one of the gars and shot toward one of the open windows on the second level. Seconds after it burst, flames began to shoot out of the room, and thick, dark smoke was billowing into the night sky. Fuck. Things suddenly had gotten a lot worse. ¡°Daniel, I¡¯ll try to deal with the fire, if you can keep them off my back,¡± Betsy grunted before dashing off into the darkness, toward the side of the building with the fire. Keep them off her back, she was saying¡­ as if that was easy. There had to be like a hundred gars out there. And some of them even were adept at magic, something I hadn¡¯t encountered so far. But Betsy was relying on me. Cursing, I cast Shadow Skin and made my way closer to the fighting. A few gars were lingering further back, weapons at the ready, clearly ready to pounce on anyone trying to make a run for it. And then there was that fire mage¡­ he had to go first. I circled around, and when I noticed that he was casting another spell, I pounced on him from behind, stabbing him right in the back. With a guttural scream, he dropped to his knees, and the red mana disappeared from between his hands. Immediately, the gars close by turned around and tried to understand what had happened. Not that it was that hard, Shadow Skin or not, to figure out, with me, holding a bloody sword in my hand, standing right on top of the corpse of the fire caster. Unfortunately, I had expected the red mana gar to be the only active caster, which turned out to be an almost fatal misperception. Instead of rushing toward me, the gars were, weirdly enough, holding back, positioning themselves right next to two of the creatures that were dressed slightly differently. And the reason became apparent within mere moments. One of the gars suddenly had a fiery orb floating above his hands, while sparks of electricity arced between the hands of the other. And then, before my brain could really catch up to this new development, a lightning bolt arced across the short distance, hitting my sword and racing down my arm into my body. The bright light completely shot my night-vision, and my body convulsed from the electrical shock. With my high vitality, it wasn¡¯t a lethal strike, but it certainly took me a second or two to recover. Which was almost enough to get me fried by the fireball. The moment I regained full control over my body, I tossed myself to the ground, anticipating the fireball to go right toward where my body had been mere moments earlier. And indeed, the instance I slammed into the asphalt, there was a whoosh of scorching flames that licked across my body, but didn¡¯t fully engulf me, thanks to my quick reaction. I rolled over the ground, trying to extinguish any flames that might have caught hold on my clothes and got up into a crouch. Unfortunately, I had dropped my sword on the ground when I had been hit by the lightning, so I was facing the gars without any weapons and just a few smoldering scraps of clothing left on my body. In other words¡­ I was in deep shit. Five gars stomped toward me, four of them with spears and one with a fucking greatsword that was almost as long as me. In a split-second, I assessed my options. Running was possible, but I wasn¡¯t confident that I¡¯d be able to get away, especially since they had some reaver dogs around. I also didn¡¯t like the idea of leaving Betsy alone in her fight. It was too late to activate Aura of Droghul, with its long casting time. And, for that matter, it only had a relatively minor immediate impact on more powerful opponents, which would make it ineffective for my current predicament anyway. Other than that¡­ all I had was Scorching Flames, my newest and hitherto untested spells. But beggars can''t be choosers. The problem was that even for that spell, the casting time was going to be more than two seconds. Then again, I might just have the thing to pull it off with¡­ I pulled red mana into my arms at a frenetic pace. I knew it was going to be too late to avoid the gars from laying into me, but I needed to focus on getting my spell online as quickly as I could. A split-second before the gars were there, I activated my grey-mana-based ring and felt my skin hardening immediately. The ring had finally completely recharged this afternoon, just before I had leveled up my stats. And I was really thankful for the auspicious timing. The next moment, four spear-tips slammed into my chest. To the consternation and surprise of the gars, they failed to do more than poke holes into my clothes and cause some superficial cuts and scrapes. I sure felt the impact, but it wasn¡¯t anything I couldn¡¯t handle, especially now with my improved physique. The only weapon I really had to worry about for the moment was that gigantic greatsword that was whistling straight toward my head. But with my improved agility and perception, it was easy enough to sidestep the attack, and the next one as well, while still concentrating on getting my spell online. I could have simply teleported away instead, but then I would have had abandoned Betsy, and that didn¡¯t sit right with me. It also would have depleted my teleportation ring for another five days, which I¡¯d rather wanted to avoid. Still, an option as a last resort, if the shit truly hit the fan. But by now, I could feel the red mana churning violently in my arms, seemingly demanding to be released as if it was a rabid beast. And there was nothing I wanted to do more. With a howl-like sound, the red mana screamed out of my fingers in a wide arc that engulfed all five of the gars attacking me. Howling in pain, they stumbled out of the flames, clothes, and hair on fire. But I followed right after them, flames at maximum pressure. I had a couple of seconds at best before the spell-slinging gars would try to take another shot at me, so I had to make use of the time I had. Less than two seconds later, I focused the energy into one finger only and directed it toward the magic casters. My legs and arms were still tingling weirdly from that lightning, and I sure as hell didn¡¯t want to be hit by another one. And fire wasn¡¯t much higher on my list. So I needed to distract them. And my finger of death worked perfectly for that, because seeing a screaming cone of flame coming right at them, even if not reaching them, made them lose focus for long enough that I could rush right in and close the distance. And once they had flames licking all over their body, their confident smirks were wiped out by the burning kiss of fiery hell I had brought to them. Hiatus Well, so here it is. I have been holding out hope that I''d get another chapter done soon. I started writing, didn''t like it, and deleted about 10k words, started again... got hit by a few unfortunate/nasty messages, dealing with being stuck at home, dealing with stuff... and, well, realized that I am currently happier without the pressure of having to deliver a weekly, monthly or whatever chapter. I still write a bit here and there, a few words on this book, but also following on another idea that I had... but much more leisurely and at my own pace, which is kinda slow overall. Maybe this webnovel stuff isn''t for me after all... maybe it is. I am torn. I have really enjoyed the positive interaction, feedback from many of you, and delivering content to people that enjoy it. I don''t enjoy delivering content to people that don''t enjoy it and let me know that they don''t in words or ratings.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Sorry to let everybody down, especially if you followed along on the rewrite. I am sure that you hoped for grand new adventures BEYOND what I had written the first time around. And I did too. I had/have plenty of (good?) ideas. Of course, the rewrite took a lot longer than initially planned, because I basically rewrote everything. Much better too, in my opinion, but apparently that sentiment isn''t shared by lots of people. I have a good number of followers, and I was/am happy about that, but... well, I just don''t have it in me right now. Really sorry. I feel like I am letting people down. But... if I kept on working on it right now, I think it won''t benefit anyone because the product will be bad. Maybe I will pick this up later again, maybe not. It depends on when/if I rediscover my muse and excitement for this book.