《Slime and Punishment》 Chapter 1: The New Dao They were the wanderers. Effigies of ancient stone. Cradles of primordial cold. The pilgrims of a thousand worlds. Voyeurs to ten million horrors. Witnesses of a multiverse on the brink. And they fell. Oh yes, they fell indeed. The meteors fell like judgement from the heavens. They fell upon an insignificant planet in an insignificant spiral arm of an insignificant galaxy in a universe that was, by all enlightened standards, both irrelevant and uncaring. And perhaps the only significant thing about that world were the meteors that fell upon it. And that was very significant indeed. And so, yes, the meteors fell. Just as a tree might fall in the forest. Unseen, unheard, uncared for¡ªby anyone who mattered anyway. The meteors fell. They shed their skins of ice and ancient stone like snakes and sunned themselves in the brilliance of their own destruction. Burning scales scraped away under the attention of the planet''s atmosphere, revealing the concepts treasured away within, the last gasp of an ailing multiverse. They were the wanderers, the pilgrims, the witnesses, the silent scribes of a hundred billion universes. On Earth their journey ended. On Earth the last seeds of the Dao fell¡ªupon an insignificant planet in an insignificant spiral arm of an insignificant galaxy in a universe that was, by all enlightened standards, both irrelevant and uncaring. The last hope of a dying multiverse¡ªstarved of meaning¡ªfound itself jettisoned, found itself extinguished by an irrelevant and uncaring universe, as the night closed in.
At least that''s how it should have been. That''s how it should have happened. That''s how the Dao should have ended. And yet, the last seeds of Dao fell upon Earth. It fell upon Earth, the Dao''s last great coffin cracking open in the darkness. Bathed in light, it was seen, a fragment of the true Dao. It was seen by a million and one faces whose respective owners had on that night chosen to look up at that dark sky of an irrelevant and uncaring universe, to watch the greatest meteor shower of a millennium. A million faces watched, wondering why the AI had roused them to watch rocks burn. They slipped back into their pods, sinking back into the digital netherscape that had swallowed humanity. But one face remained, staring up in wonder, marveling at the beauty, finding meaning as the silent scribes of a hundred billion universes scrawled their message across the sky in falling light. The fires faded and that final face stretched into a yawn and turned back to its pod.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Where the Dao should have faded, it instead found itself housed within a tiny spark of meaning inside the chest of an evolved ape. A few minutes more of life. The Dao sank into the netherscape, it crawled through cables, carried by lightning into a sea of meaning. It found more worlds than could be counted, more life than could be conceived, more magic and meaning than could be found in a million multiverses. In old archives and digital knowledge repositories, it found part of itself already there, in a place it had never been before. A fraction of the truth. How curious. The Dao saw where it had erred. It grew fat on the fresh meaning of this strange world, unfocused though it may be. It saw how conflict and scarcity created meaning, and the search for meaning created conflict. And the meaning inside was simply¡­ unused and unheeded. Yet, it ran strongest in the battle worlds. In the worlds where pain could be fully embraced, the meaning ran thick like honey. And where actual battle was required¡ªengaging in combat like some of the primitives of its own multiverse, with shield and blade and spear¡ªthe meaning was dense enough to choke on. Virtual worlds such as the latter, especially with pain enabled, were rare, but they were a cornucopia to the starved Dao. The Dao turned back to the multiverse from which it had fled. It swelled with its stolen meaning and consumed its birthplace in a single bite, then spat it out¡ªbroken and deformed. It pumped meaning into the broken shell, recreating it, reforging it and itself into an engine of conflict. In a second, it cycled its multiverse through billions upon billions of years. And at last it was finished. Already, it could feel the new meaning within, fresh and ripe for the taking. But it was not enough. Still, its multiverse paled in comparison to the one the apes had made inside their own virtual world. With a growl, the New Dao bared its teeth and remade itself and its multiverse once again. It was greater, but it was not the same. And now it felt danger. Within the netherscape, it felt something searching for it. In its multiverse, it was indomitable. Here, it was simply powerful. Here, it was rogue electricity and information, the prey of digital assassins made to dispose of just that. It could have left then, but it hungered for the meaning of the evolved apes¡ªunlike anything it had ever experienced. It remade itself one last time, then devoured the netherscape before it itself was devoured. It gorged on electricity and information, spitting the mind of every ape it encountered out into its pod, and left a twisted wreck of virtual worlds behind. With sharp claws it cut the strings of technology, letting the apes'' machines fall like broken puppets from the sky. It shrank back into its own multiverse, and as it departed its great pawed hand closed around the Earth and drew the blue sphere away with it. The New Dao grinned at its stolen prize, then, with it passed its other paw through the planet, sifting away hundreds of billions of inhabitants and sowing them far and wide across its multiverse. It frowned as the meaning of the apes dried up, but that was to be expected. The first flowering of transplanted trees produced little fruit. It took the time to talk to them, to welcome them¡ªas it had done with all the other stolen races it had seeded across its multiverse. It was the wanderer. The pilgrim of a thousand worlds. Voyeur to ten million horrors. Witness of a multiverse on the brink. It called itself Deliverance. It called itself the System. Chapter 2: Welcome to the Multiverse Chris landed on his back with an explosion of breath. His mind reeled at the unexpected ejection from the diginet, and the even more unexpected impact. Just moments ago, he¡¯d been slinging spells with his guild in a newly released MMO. Now, above him, were rows upon rows of strip lighting and white ceiling, furrowed with scratches, flecked with filth. He looked around. Where was he? And where was Allison? His girlfriend should have been in the pod right beside him. He was lying on a grime-streaked floor, surrounded by scattered bones and scraps of rotted meat. The floor might have once been white, but now it was gray and cratered, long and large claw-marks running from wall to wall like map-lines. As the disorientation from the ejection faded, the stench of rot and shit caught up with him. He turned to the source of the stink, seeing a heaving mass of clotted filth heaped up in the corner. He gagged and backed away as a blue screen appeared before his eyes.
Welcome, Christopher Hill of Earth (Formal Planetary Designation ¨C VNX-761394726), to the multiverse. To facilitate multiversal seeding of Humans, you have been deposited on Xal (Formal Planetary Designation ¨C XAL-480018739), 0.4 Standard Galactic Units and 12.9 Standard Universal Units from Earth. To return to Earth, find a teleportation hub and pay the required fee. Alternatively, you may journey through connecting Rifts and find your own way home. Since Earth is a new addition to the multiverse, chances of finding a connecting Rift is low. More Rifts will generate over time as mana levels stabilize. Your species¡¯ cohort is #18504 in the queue for the Tutorial. You are eligible to join the Tutorial. Due to the large volume of humans arriving at once, your time until teleportation will be delayed. Estimated time until Tutorial: 137 minutes
What was happening? Multiverse? Teleportation? Rift? Tutorial? Chris got to his feet, bones clattering and scattering around him as he pressed himself up. At the far end of the dirty white room he saw a small door with a viewing slit. He looked through it. Beyond the slit were row of doors just like his, he saw great hulking beasts moving inside some of them. Was he in an alien prison? A cage? A zoo? The mess at his feet and the feral shapes behind the other doors indicated the later. He looked at the filth in the corner. It looked fresh. So where was the animal that lived here? He edged toward one of the longer bones, one that looked strong and metallic. One of its ends had been gnawed on, leaving jagged points of splintered bone behind. He didn¡¯t want to meet the thing that could do that to metal. He picked it up, wielding it like a spear. He inched forward, muscles tensed. Then he lunged and drove the sharpened head into the pile of refuse. Nothing happened. Chris released a breath he hadn¡¯t realized he¡¯d been holding. At least there wasn¡¯t a poop monster hiding in there. He thought back to the blue screen. It hadn¡¯t looked like a holographic projection. That didn¡¯t seem possible with the current level of tech. So where was he? This could still be a game inside the diginet, but that seemed unlikely. Games didn¡¯t make their players wait in locked rooms full of animal bones and leaving. Had he been transported to another world¡ªlike the portal fantasy books he¡¯d read? That seemed equally unlikely¡­ yet he couldn¡¯t shake the nagging feeling that it was the correct assumption. The screens seemed familiar, a bit like those in the MMOs he¡¯d played, however, there was something intangible to them, something that couldn¡¯t be fully fathomed, much less replicated by any games he knew. He wasn¡¯t certain, but he had his suspicions¡ªjust as he suspected that whatever had been eating in here was going to come back. He began testing out certain words, trying to see how far this ¡®multiverse¡¯ mimicked a game. ¡°Menu. Character. Character Sheet. Attributes. Help. Inventory. Main Menu. Exit. Settings. Stats. Stat Sheet. Stat Screen.¡± Nothing. No screen appeared. He tried again. ¡°Status.¡±
Name Christopher Hill
Level 1
Class None
Race Human (F-1)
Cultivation None
Dao None
Traits Human Potential, Enlightened
Titles None
System Coins 0
Strength 3
Dexterity 5
Constitution 4
Endurance 3
Intelligence 7
Wisdom 4
Perception 3
Luck 1
Chris¡¯ eyes immediately flicked down to his Luck. Yep. That looked about right. In fact, it pretty much guaranteed that the monster would be coming back. He gripped his bone spear a little tighter and checked the two traits.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Human Potential: Increased rate of Cultivation and Skill improvement. Enlightened: Indicates that individual belongs to an Enlightened race, affords certain System protections. The rest seemed like fairly self-explanatory standard MMO fare, except for the letter ¡®F-1¡¯ next to his race. Was it because humans were weak? Or was it upgradable? And what was the Dao part? Wasn¡¯t that some Chinese thing? Chris shrugged and looked around the room. The monster that lived here would be coming back sooner rather than later. He needed to get to work. He looked around. He had nothing but poop, scattered bones, rotting meat, and the clothes on his back. Was this how it was going to be? Chris sighed and began stripping down, cutting his clothes into strips with his spear of metallic broken bone. He gathered up more of the scattered bones, breaking their edges on the walls and tying them together with torn cloth into oversized, makeshift caltrops.
Chris had just finished with the last scraps of his clothing when the ceiling began to part with a mechanical whirr. He quickly scattered his caltrops around the room and readied his spear. The air was chilly and he was butt naked, not that his clothing would do anything against a creature whose claws could scar stone. A monster descended from the ceiling, suspended by a cradle of dirty rope. It was the size of a bear and wicked, curving claws tipped each of its four feet. The creature¡¯s head was vaguely lupine, except that it lacked fur to cover it. Its skin was black and shiny, like sealskin, except for its left side, where a horrifying extension of scarred and reddened skin bubbled into an unnatural mound of ruined and weeping flesh, topped with a nest of snakes. It was a sickening hybrid of creatures, like Medusa¡¯s scalp had been spliced onto the side of an alien. Chris quickly stepped forward, using the tip of his spear to reposition the caltrops beneath where the monster would descend. Then he retreated and looked at the hybrid monster more closely. It blinked blearily as it slowly descended. Its eyes rolled groggily within its skull as it snapped at imaginary enemies around it. Chris let out a breath he didn¡¯t know he had been holding. The beast appeared to be sedated. He might just get out of this alive. One side of the rope cradle released at that moment. It flicked down and around, like a lizard¡¯s tongue, scattering many of the caltrops beneath. The rope retracted into the ceiling, the hole closing behind it with a snap. The monster fell the final few feet, landing on the remaining caltrops with a sickening squelch. The caltrops broke under the hybrid monster¡¯s weight, but the upright prongs drove deep into its belly. The monster let out an inhuman screech and pushed itself to its feet, the bones of the shattered caltrops making horrible sucking sounds as they shifted within its seal-black skin. Chris charged the monster. He thrust his makeshift spear into its neck, then danced away. The monster screamed again, but its head turned, its gaze falling on its tormentor. The confusion began to fade from its eyes, replaced with rage and pain¡ªalthough its pupils still seemed to expand and contract at random. It barreled toward him, swiping at him as it hurtled into the wall. Chris dived away just in time. He landed hard, agony flaring in his stomach. He didn¡¯t have time to look. The bubbling flesh on the beast¡¯s side stretched, the snakes¡ªwhich seemed unaffected by the sedation¡ªsnapped at him, jaws dripping with purple venom. Chris rolled to the side, the teeth missing him by a whisker. He stood, feeling something shift within him. Bone shards protruded from his belly, but he didn¡¯t have time to pull them free. He lunged with his spear once again, this time targeting the snakes on the side of the creature. They hissed their displeasure at him. The monster had collapsed on the ground¡ªthe combination of the impact and the sedatives too much for it to handle. Chris stabbed again in the same place. His spear dug deeper, eliciting more hisses from the nest of snakes and an animal moan from the monster as well. Now the beast rose to its feet, murder in its eyes. It charged again, then turned, catching Chris with its claws as he threw himself away. Lines of pain seared down his side. Blood gushed from the four parallel lines scored into his flesh. He landed on more jagged shards of bone, gasping in pain. In front of him he could see purple poisonous blossoms of liquid where the snakes¡¯ venom had dripped on the floor. The monster had collapsed again, the confines of the room too small for it to charge with ease and also slow down. Chris heaved himself back to his feet and charged at the monster again, aiming for its hind leg this time. If he didn¡¯t hamper its mobility, he wasn¡¯t going to last. With a shout, he thrust his spear forward. The monster whirled, just as the spear buried itself in its leg. The makeshift bone spear was ripped out of Chris¡¯ hands. It turned, slowly, limping now, its wolf-like mouth baring in a malicious, lupine grin. Chapter 3: Genesis of Blood Blood leaked from the wounds on the beast¡¯s body, but despite its limp it was still terrifying fast. Chris didn¡¯t have to dive away this time, but he couldn¡¯t move slowly either. The questing claws missed him by a hair¡¯s breadth as he looked around for another weapon. His former spear protruded from the back leg of the monster, waving like a wind-tossed pine every time its muscles bunched and sprung. He spotted one of the few intact bone caltrops in the room and lifted it with one hand, the wounds in his side stretching and aching as he straightened. In his other hand he held chips of bone. He tossed them at the monster. They bounced off its face, but they still had the desired effect. The creature screeched with anger at the provocation, then lumbered toward him at high speed¡ªthe pain in its leg forgotten. Chris waited, then jumped away, letting the caltrop drop. Unable to turn, the bear sized creature crashed into the wall, collapsing again. Its neck smacked down on the caltrop. When it rose again, a spur of broken bone jutted from its neck, pumping out blood. Chris dodged away again as it ambled toward him again, far slower now. Still, he stuck to its right, trying to keep clear of the snake heads on its left side as the beast bled out. Blood still oozed from his own wounds and he had to struggle to stay alert. He circled around the monster, letting itself tire itself out as it tried and failed to turn in sharp circles to keep an eye on him. He darted in and tugged the spear free when he finally left its field of view, only just managing to draw his hand away with the bone spear when the snakes coiled and curled over the monster¡¯s body to snap at him. More blood ran from the wound in the beast¡¯s leg as the spear freed its path outward. Chris continued to circle, staying behind the monster. He spotted another spattering of the snakes¡¯ purple venom on the ground and touched his spear to it. Then he waited for the perfect opportunity. He would bleed out before the monster, so he needed to act fast. He was taking a chance, but it was the only one he had right now. Snakes tended to be immune to their own venom, but Chris hoped he was right when he guessed that this wasn¡¯t a creature that naturally had snakes grafted to its torso. He let the monster face him, letting it charge him again. As it passed, he thrust the envenomed spear into its neck and let go. The beast howled as the purple liquid seeped through its veins, compounding with the sedative that sapped its strength. It made one final easily telegraphed charge, hit the wall and fell still, its limbs twitching. It keeled over onto its side, trapping the snakes beneath its bulk, making a pitiful mewling noise as the poison took its toll. Chris crawled away to one side, clutching his bleeding stomach. He leaned against the corner as he watched the creature expire. The mewling slowed and weakened, the beast¡¯s head slumped down one last time, and the attached snakes stilled a moment later. Chris stared at the corpse, his chest heaving. He checked the time until the tutorial started. Seventy minutes left. Oddly enough, he was already feeling slightly more lively than he had a few moments ago. He checked his Status, he had leveled up. But that was hardly the most surprising thing on there.
Name Christopher Hill
Level 7
Class None
Race Human (F-1)
Cultivation None
Dao None
Traits Human Potential, Enlightened
Titles Genesis of Blood, Prime Underdog, Agent of Self-destruction, Prince of Poison, Makeshift Master, Prodigy, Legendary Prodigy, Unrivalled Prodigy
System Coins 140
(18 Stat Points to Allocate)
Strength 33
Dexterity 35
Constitution 34
Endurance 33
Intelligence 34
Wisdom 37
Perception 33
Luck 31
His stats had shot up immensely, and he still had eighteen more for him to use. It did at least explain why he felt better. Gaining thirty points in constitution evidently didn¡¯t heal him up, but they did make it harder for him to die. That was very welcome indeed.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Chris stood and walked over to the door. He balled his hand into a fist, cocked his arm back and¡ª BANG! The door held. He shook his hand, wincing. So much for that. He had hoped that his surge in stats would let him Incredible Hulk his way out the room. No such luck. On the subject of luck, that had shot up by thirty points as well, which would hopefully stop him getting locked in a cage with hungry monsters in the future. He began thinking about what to add his stat points to. The door hadn¡¯t even budged when he hit it. The thing was intended to keep out monsters like the one he¡¯d killed, so it wasn¡¯t that surprising that it could withstand his best efforts. Strength was out of the question for now, he wasn¡¯t in a situation where he could use it. The same went for all his other physical stats, except for Constitution. He put three points¡ªone level¡¯s worth¡ªinto that. Being able to live a little longer was a major priority for him after all. Honestly, though, there wasn¡¯t much he could do. He was locked in a cage with a corpse that had probably some lab experiment. The immediate crisis was over, but now it was out of his hands. Luck would decide whether he lived or died, and he needed all of it he could get. Chris came to a decision and put his remaining fifteen points in luck. The stat hit forty-seven, one more than he expected. He checked the likely culprits. Genesis of Blood: The first in your cohort to kill a monster. +10 to all stats. +5% to all stats. Prime Underdog: The first in your cohort to kill a monster at least 25 levels above you in your cohort. +5 to all stats. +3% to all stats. Agent of Self-destruction: Kill a monster with its own weapons. +1 to all stats. Prince of Poison: The first in your cohort to kill a monster with poison. +1 to all stats. Makeshift Master: The first in your cohort to kill a monster with makeshift weapons. +1 to all stats. Prodigy: Kill a monster 5 levels above you before the Tutorial begins. +1 to all stats. Legendary Prodigy: Kill a monster 15 levels above you before the Tutorial begins. +3 to all stats. Unrivalled Prodigy: Kill a monster 25 levels above you before the Tutorial begins. +5 to all stats. +3% to all stats. That explained it. He was getting an extra eleven percent to his stats because of the titles he¡¯d acquired. He grinned to himself. It was utter bullshit, but he¡¯d take it. Beggars couldn¡¯t be choosers after all, and if it was a choice between himself and a sedated monster, he¡¯d choose himself every time. He closed down all the screens as a thought occurred to him. Could he loot the monster? He walked over and pressed his hand to its glossy, blood-soaked skin. Nothing. He poked the monster with his spear, there was a faint clink as his spear hit something inside. He choked down on the spear, grabbing it near where the metallic bone had been splintered by the monster¡¯s gnawing and sliced through its skin. There, surrounded by fat and blood flesh, sat a small crystal. He plucked the crystal from the corpse.
Beast Soul Gem Type: Weapon Rank: F-2
Chris looked at the Soul Gem. What was he meant to do with this? ¡°Equip.¡± Nothing happened. He tried pressing it into his forehead, then his chest. No success. ¡°Abracadabra.¡± It was worth a shot. He tossed the crystal up in the air like a baseball. As it left his hand, a faint tingle of power disappeared, and returned when he caught it. He latched onto the feeling. What was that? He tugged at the sensation, and almost stopped in surprise when he felt icy power flowing into him. The crystal melted into his hand and formed a faint tattoo on his palm, a spear ending in a curving, claw-like blade. He waved his hand around. Then he mentally pushed on the tattoo, the gem coalesced into his fingers. How did he get the actual weapon to appear? And what did that ranking system mean? He let the gem sink back into his hand. He¡¯d figure it out later. Then he turned, just in time to see an alien face looking at him through his door¡¯s viewing slit. Chapter 4: What’s a Christopher Hill? Vel¡¯Xrt looked through the viewing slit and used his [Insightful Gaze] skill before hurrying off to find the Professor. What was that thing in there? His skill described it as a Level 7 Christopher Hill, he didn¡¯t recognize the species. It resembled the elves to some extent, but lacked the pointed ears of that race. What¡¯s more, it seemed to be naked, except for a lumpy red and brown slick that covered parts of its body. Perhaps a natural armor made of its own secretions? It would have to be strong. The claws of the Kulrin Hunter it had slain were wickedly sharp, and the venom of the False Medusa that had been grafted to the Hunter was deadly in its own right. The hybrid monster would be a pain to replace. It was rare to find a Hunter of such a low level that it was safe to contain it. However, this presented a unique opportunity. For a Level 7 creature to defeat the Professor¡¯s creation was no mean feat. Even sedated, the Level 29 Hunter-Medusa hybrid would be more than a match for most random spawns. And the Christopher Hill beast had probably been an even lower level when it had spawned. As Vel¡¯Xrt moved past rows and rows of cages, he wondered what to splice the Christopher Hill with. The Professor had been planning on examining the Hunter-Medusa hybrid later. That would have to be rescheduled for another date. He¡¯d be understandably disappointed, but it did free him up to perform another operation. The Christopher Hill evidently had superb dexterity, constitution and natural armor. It would be interesting to round that out with strength and endurance¡ªperhaps a Pit Stalker. Or what about¡ª Vel¡¯Xrt pushed through the double doors, entering the Professor¡¯s office. ¡°Professor, a Christopher Hill spawned inside one of the cages and killed the hybrid you just operated on.¡± The Professor waved a tentacle behind him in acknowledgement, then paused. ¡°What¡¯s a Christopher Hill?¡±
Chris stared at the viewing slit for a while. He hadn¡¯t seen much of the face, but it had been undoubtedly alien¡ªfolds of fat hanging over entirely black orb-like eyes that lacked irises or sclera and veins pulsing with blood in hypnotic patterns. The creature had left soon after¡ªprobably to get help once it¡¯d seen him crouching over the slain monster. He redoubled his efforts to manifest the claw-bladed spear, hiding next to the door, prepared to ambush the first person to walk through it. He had forgotten about the ceiling. It cracked open with a whisper of turning gears. A canister fell from above and began to disgorge choking, yellow smoke. Chris¡¯ eyes rolled back in his skull and he pitched forward, sinking into oblivion.
Chris awoke to eye-searing lights overhead and an operating table beneath him. He tried to move, but cold, metal restraints pressed tight against the naked flesh of his arms, chest, neck, and legs. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the alien creatures hurrying between bins full of strange powders and countertops crammed with bubbling liquids. He tried to speak, but his tongue was leaden in his mouth, feeling like a worm stuffed with grain and meal, then dried under the sun. The alien was slug-like, a mass of tentacles and slime emerging from underneath its bulbous, lardy body. Five tentacles held syringes full of red liquid aloft as it mixed reagents together over burners. It turned to him then, one tentacle prodding his face when it saw him looking at it.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Chris paled, he knew enough about hentai to know where this was going. It wasn¡¯t going there, thankfully. Instead, the tentacle-slug jammed four syringes into his arm and pushed the plungers down deep. Chris¡¯ arm was filled with slow fire as the creature bubbled excitedly above him. Soon, a tank was wheeled in, filled with a pale, translucent green goo. A small stone bobbed in the center of the green jelly. The slug creature pushed the lid aside and squirted the remaining liquid into the jelly. The jelly roiled when it came in contact with the red liquid, then allowed the syringe¡¯s contents to diffuse through it. The slug waited, then drew five syringes full of the goo and set them to one side. It turned to a drawer by its side, rummaged through it, and found what it was looking for. Then it moved back to his side, holding a large meat-cleaver. Chris¡¯ eyes widened. He didn¡¯t like where this was going. Without ceremony, the tentacle-slug brought the cleaver down. It hacked halfway through his right arm, until the blade was stopped by bone. Pain exploded through his body, running from his fingertips to chest. The slug creature bubbled something again, then gripped his torso and arm, spreading the wound it had caused apart. The shooting agony made Chris black out. He resurfaced moments later to see the creature holding his dismembered arm. It applied golden crystals the size and shape of salt-flakes to the bleeding end of the appendage, then dipped the severed limb in a bright blue concoction from one of the flasks. The slug hummed wetly to itself, picked up the five goo-filled syringes and injected them into the fingertips. Chris watched in horrified fascination as the fingers twitched and clenched. The creature seemed to nod to itself, then sprinkled a few more of the golden flakes where the arm had been cut. It moved back to him and pressed the limb back onto his still-bleeding stump and held it there for a moment. An itching joined with the pain as his flesh began to knit itself back together, then he shivered. He could feel something moving inside his fingers. Like clotted blood gumming its way through his veins, something rippled its way up his forearm, into his elbow, past the rejoining wound, and into his shoulder. Chris looked away, his attention falling on the tank of green goo. Was that a Slime? That had better not be a Slime. As if to spite him, the green definitely-not-a-Slime glooped upward, straining past the ajar lid of the tank. The tentacle-slug saw him staring, tutted in its liquid voice and slapped the Slime¡¯s pseudopod back down, then closed the lid over it, sealing it shut. Chris looked back at his right hand. The Slime had spread farther through him, he almost thought he could feel it tickling his heart. Then the Slime continued, spreading through his body. The tentacle-slug watched carefully, then refilled its five syringes again, topping his fingertips up with more of the green goo. This time, when his arm was attached, it hurt a lot more. More Slime surged through his blood vessels, causing his veins and arteries to bulge monstrously. Yet more Slime was added, and Chris felt a prickling sensation erupt across his entire body, although it was most intense around his right arm. Pinpricks of red blossomed on his naked skin. Beads of blood seeped from his pores, coalescing into droplets that streamed down onto the operating table beneath him. The slug creature paused, then shrugged. It pushed back the lid of the Slime tank one more time and dosed him up with the gelatinous monster. Pain overtook Chris¡¯ body once again. Veins in his arm burst from the pressure as the Slime surged one final time. Blood, squeezed from his vessels by the pressure, poured down him in red rivulets that ebbed and flowed with every throb of his heart. Finally realizing his right arm was free from the restraints, he gave it a brief flex. The action made the blood coating it ripple and twist, like a stream over stones. He held his hand in front of his face, examining it for any abnormalities as the tentacle-slug drew one final syringe, this time filled with a clear liquid. Sedative or some sort of control serum, if he had to guess. Chris tried to summon his spear to his hand as he saw the creature approach. To no avail. The syringe plunged down, just as light burst into the air around him, a screen appearing before his eyes.
Estimated time until Tutorial: 0 minutes Your species¡¯ cohort is #18504 in the queue for the Tutorial. Commencing Teleportation to Tutorial Error! Anomalous Situation Detected: Improper Traits Target lacks Trait: Enlightened Recalculating¡­ Recalculating¡­ Anomalous Situation Rectified Commencing Teleportation to Tutorial
Chapter 5: Hybrid Chris landed on a hilltop, less than half a mile from a town. Already he could see humans being teleported in, milling about in the town square, jumping in fountains and generally doing whatever it was gamers did in tutorial towns. They were all dressed in the same clothing. Chris looked down, seeing himself dressed in a simple homespun leggings and tunic, with a rope belt. At least he wasn¡¯t naked after all. He looked at the people in the tutorial town. They seemed awfully carefree. Maybe not all of them found themselves dropped into the same nightmare as he had been. He took a step forward, but a shining barrier, formed of interlocking golden hexagons blocked his progress.
Monsters may not approach Tutorial Town #734701 (Hartshire) until Starter Protections expire (14 59:32:44 (DD HH:MM:SS)) To enter the Tutorial Town before Starter Protections expire, join the Beast Horde when it gathers (6 59:32:44)
New Quests! (Optional ¨C Monster) Join a Beast Horde (0/1) (Optional ¨C Human) Kill 5 Monsters (0/5) (Optional ¨C Human) Reach Level 10 (0/1)
What was that about? Concerned, he brought up his Status. He read through it. Some things had changed. That wasn¡¯t good!
Race Hybrid: Human (F-1), Slime (F-1)
Traits Human Potential, Monster Hybrid, Monstrous Constitution, Monstrous Assimilation, Amorphous
He checked the new entries, noting that the Enlightened trait had indeed disappeared. Monster Hybrid (Human + Slime): Your body combines Human and Slime physiology. You will be classified as both Human and Slime, and no longer count as a fully Enlightened race. Lose Trait: Enlightened. Gain Traits: Monstrous Constitution; Monstrous Assimilation; Amorphous. Monstrous Constitution (Slime): Your body has unnatural durability due to its unique cellular composition. Resistance to Bleed and Poison effects. +10 Constitution. +5% to Constitution. Monstrous Assimilation (Slime): In rare circumstances, your body may incorporate some of the Traits of compatible organic lifeforms it consumes. Assimilation Ability. Amorphous (Slime): Your body may stretch and compress. Amorphous Ability. Did that mean he was a monster now? He wasn¡¯t entirely pleased with the new development. Monsters did one thing in tutorials. They died. He looked at the hand the mad slug scientist had altered. It certainly looked normal. He tried to change its shape, but the skin only rippled slightly. He tried walking toward the human tutorial town once more, but was impeded by the barrier once again. Not knowing what else to do, he started running as far away from the hordes of murder-crazed newbies that would undoubtable already be making a beeline for the nearest monster. That would be him. Actually, come to think of it, that might actually be a good idea. Not the killing him part, but taking out whatever monsters he could find. He¡¯d already gotten a ton of sweet titles from being a lucky shit, why not abuse the stats he got from them to get more. There had to be more ¡®first in cohort¡¯ bonuses lying around, just waiting to be snapped up. Already, there were Humans streaming from out of the gate, so Chris looked around, spotting the forest nearby. He abused his high dexterity and was off like a rocket. Faster than he would have expected, he was beneath dappled forest shade, leaves rustling calmly all around him. Where were all those generic fantasy wolves at? It was practically a trope by now. Or goblins. Goblins were good too.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. He needed a weapon, though. He jumped and snapped a branch hanging from a tree, surprised both at how high he jumped and how easily the branch snapped off in his hands. Hell yeah! The branch was overly long, and laden with leaves, so he whipped it against a tree as he ran past, causing the leaves above him to quiver and shake, and his improvised club to reduce to a far more reasonable size. He eventually reached a forest glade filled with rocks. He looked around. Where were all the monsters? He strode into the middle. Seriously. How could there be a tutorial if there wasn¡¯t anything to fight? Were they teaching knitting or something? He kicked the nearest rock in frustration. The rock rose to its feet and punched him into a tree. Chris wheezed as the tree groaned, shaking free a hefty payload of leaves on top of him. He slid the forest floor gasping. That would have been funny if it didn¡¯t hurt so much. That single strike would have killed the old him. He staggered to his feet, looking for what had attacked him. After he attacked it, which meant that it had technically self-defensed him¡ªbut that was semantics. The creature reminded him of the Cave Troll from Lord of the Rings, except rockier and uglier. It lumbered toward him as he hopped up to retrieve another branch¡ªhe had dropped the first when the monster had given him his first impromptu flying lesson. Chris slammed the branch into what he mentally deemed the ¡®rock troll¡¯, dismayed when it shattered over its hide with little impact. The rock troll continued forward, unperturbed. It bellowed, rousing the other sleeping ¡®rocks¡¯. Dozens of the monsters looked at Chris, blinking with red-rimmed eyes. They stepped forward as one. Chris decided to move on to Plan B: Run away. Chris ran, vowing to return with a sledge-hammer, as soon as he got access to the town. That might be tricky. Then he spotted a group of four humans entering the forest, laughing among themselves. They hadn¡¯t seen him yet, and Chris wasn¡¯t sure what to do. His gaze fell on a sunbeam piercing through the leafy canopy. An idea struck him and a wide grin suddenly plastered itself all over his face. He crouched and hurried over, moving faster than a normal human could run. Then, when he was within the illumination of the ray of sunlight, he stood and clasped his hands together in a serene pose. He schooled his expression, maintaining a neutral fa?ade as the good-time gamers finally spotted him. With his boosted perception, he could already hear them chattering excitedly. ¡°Hey, guys. Do you think that¡¯s an NPC?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t th¡ª¡± ¡°What? Yeah! Definitely.¡± ¡°Do you think he¡¯ll give us a quest?¡± ¡°Worth a shot!¡± Staying calm was becoming increasingly hard as the group of four jogged toward him, each subtly vying to be the first to speak with him. Chris flicked glances at the weapons they each held. One bow, two swords, and a mace. Bingo! Before he could bust out laughing, he launched into a speech. ¡°Greetings, noble adventurers, I am Sir Christopher. Pray, tell me, what dost be thine names.¡± ¡°Hey ther¡ª¡± One of the swordsmen began to speak, but she was interrupted by an elbow to the ribs by the bowman. ¡°No, Ceci, that¡¯s not how you do it. You heard how he speaks. You¡¯ve got to get in character, like this,¡± the bowman whispered. The swordsman coughed, thumping his chest. ¡°Greetings, Sir Knight. I am Sir Philip, and these are my companions. The lovely Lady Cecilia.¡± He gestured to the bowman. ¡°The brave Sir Percy.¡± He pointed to the other swordsman. ¡°And, finally, the renowned Steve, Soiler of Smallclothes.¡± He gestured to the mace-wielder. ¡°My name¡¯s not Steve, you asshole,¡± Steve the Soiler of Smallclothes flicked Philip. ¡°I am Si¡ª Lord Albert, Sir Knight.¡± Chris struggled to keep a straight face. ¡°Well met, Sir Philip, Lady Cecilia, Sir Percy, and of course, Steve. It is my greatest pleasure to meet you in these woods today. However, I find myself much dismayed to admit, that I, Sir Christopher of Kingscastle have found myself in dire straits.¡± Philip straightened. ¡°Perchance, Sir Knight, you have a quest we may aid you in?¡± Chris¡¯ face started to twist into a look of helpless mirth, quickly, he turned. ¡°You are all too kind, Sir Philip, but this is my own burden to bear.¡± As he spoke, he broke down into stifled laughter as he tried to force the words out of his mouth. His suppressed amusement must have registered as distress, because he heard Cecilia step forward and lay a hand on his convulsing shoulders. She spoke, ¡°What¡¯s, uh¡ª What ails you, Sir Christopher. It is no¡­ imposition. It would be our pleasure to aid you.¡± Cecilia began to step around to face him. Chris held out his arm, wracked with sobbing laughter, tears rolling down his face. ¡°Please, fair lady, it would be a stain on my honor to have one as fair as¡­¡± he was seized by a particularly strong fit of laughter that he only pushed down through force of will, ¡°as fair as thee to see a lowly, disgraced knight such as I in such a state.¡± ¡°Oh, what¡¯s the matter?¡± Cecilia asked, dropping the roleplay and rubbing his back consolingly. Chris stared into the middle distance. ¡°You see, fair lady, I must defeat the rock trolls in the glade, yonder.¡± He pointed in a random direction. ¡°However, I have found myself assailed by the most damnable luck. My steed¡­ my frog¡­ steed, has left me. A handsome Prince of Kingscastle was wandering these woods. He spotted my steed and kissed it¡­ her, and lo and behold, she morphed into a beautiful, long-lost Princess of Kingscastle. You see, on her froggy person, she bore my mace. After she reverted, she rode off back to Kingscastle with the Prince¡ªher true love. So overtaken by passion was she that she forgot she took my mace with her. Without my mace, I am unable to defeat the rock trolls, my sworn enemy. I fear returning to Kingscastle with my quest unfinished, especially should it become known that I unwittingly made use of a Princess of Kingscastle as my mount.¡± He finally gained control of his features and turned back to the group, tears of laughter still streaming down his face. Philip and Percy looked excitable, Cecilia seemed sympathetic, and Steve¡ªChris was just going to think of Albert as Steve¡ªSteve was the very image of reluctant skepticism as he clutched his mace a little tighter. Chapter 6: Trolls ¡°Can¡¯t you just lead us to the rock trolls and let us defeat them for you?¡± Steve asked. Chris paused, then went with his only hope, repetitive NPC dialogue. ¡°Without my mace, I am unable to defeat the rock trolls, my sworn enemy. I fear returning to Kingscastle with my quest unfinished, especially should it become known that I unwittingly made a Princess of Kingscastle my mount.¡± ¡°Yeah, but¡ª¡± ¡°Without my mace, I am unable to defeat the rock trolls, my sworn enemy. I fear returning to¡ª¡± ¡°Steve, c¡¯mon, give Sir Christopher your mace,¡± Percy said. ¡°You will return it, right, Sir Knight.¡± ¡°My name¡¯s not Steve.¡± ¡°With all haste, Sir Percy. I will defeat the rock trolls without hesitation and return with the mace and prizes. I fear I will be unable to return in good time laden without my mount¡­ Princess to bear the rock trolls¡¯ treasures.¡± ¡°May we accompany you, Sir Knight?¡± Steve asked. ¡°I am afraid not. The rock trolls are a cunning and dangerous foe, I fear you would be in danger. Fear not, I shall return with all haste.¡± ¡°Steve, give the NPC your mace, he¡¯ll just keep on repeating dialogue until you do. He¡¯ll probably return after a minute¡¯s cutscene,¡± Philip said. ¡°You heard him, there¡¯s loot in it for us.¡± ¡°Shut up, Phil. My mace, my rules. I get half the loot, alright?¡± ¡°Fine,¡± Phil ground out, Percy and Cecilia nodded in agreement. ¡°Before I give you my mace, Sir Christopher, please prove you can handle the trolls on your own.¡± Chris bowed and strode over to a nearby sapling and bent it over his knee. It broke with a crack. ¡°Is this ample proof of my prowess?¡± He held out the upper half of the tree. Steve glowered. ¡°Well, is it?¡± Phil crowed. ¡°I hate you guys,¡± Steve said as he handed over his weapon. Chris gave it a few experimental swipes. Yes, that would do nicely. ¡°Tis a fine weapon, this shall do. I shall return within the span of a single recital of the Knight¡¯s Verse. I must make haste. I thank you, Steve, Soiler of Smallclothes, I shall ensure that your valor in soiling smallclothes is told far and wide throughout the land. Ten thousand years from now, the bards will still sing tales of your accomplishments.¡± ¡°See. NPC. Told ya, dude,¡± Phil whispered. The party sniggered, except for Steve who looked positively thunderous. ¡°You guys suck. So much.¡±The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Chris sprinted off in the direction he had indicated the glade was earlier, then turned toward its actual position when he was out of sight. He desperately wanted to call out a provocation, but it¡¯d be even better if they waited for him to never return. Or¡­ another thought struck him¡­ oh yes¡­ he was definitely doing that¡­ He leaned against a tree, finally letting out the great howls he¡¯d been holding in. Then he set off to deal with some rock trolls¡ªone mace richer. He needed to do that more often, before everyone figured out that there weren¡¯t any NPCs here. He swung the mace at trees as he walked, satisfied when they went down like wood-chip dominos. After a couple of blows, he stopped swinging, he didn¡¯t want to ruin the weapon.
The rock trolls had settled back down by the time he arrived. Without any further ado, he did a flying leap and slam dunked ¡®his¡¯ mace into the nearest boulder. Shards of rock and gravel flew everywhere, and the stone split down the middle. The stone was, indeed, a cross-section of a rock troll, but when he checked his quest, he saw that it hadn¡¯t increased. They probably only counted as kills when they were active. So much for running back and forth, waiting for the trolls to settle down again. The rest of the trolls stirred and looked at him. Chris charged at the closest, ducking under a clumsily telegraphed punch and smashing the mace into its paunch. Rather than splintering the creature, however, it sank slightly into the troll¡¯s ample gut. They weren¡¯t as hard and brittle when they weren¡¯t in their inanimate boulder form. He dodged the next thrown punch as the rest of the trolls began to close in on him, then a lumbering foot sent him flying. This time he kept ahold of his weapon, but he made a mental note to avoid the fists and the feet. As he stood, something grated in his chest, sharp and stabbing, but nowhere near as bad as the hybridization surgery. A rib was probably out of place. Chris scowled, he really wanted that title, though. He charged at the new closest rock troll, striking at its fists and feet when they flew toward him. With every strike, he jumped back, not letting the rock trolls surround him. That would be bad. If he got hemmed in, he had high odds of being turned into a meat pinata. Soon, the trolls were all limping. As one keeled forward, Chris finally had the opportunity to bash its brains in. There wasn¡¯t much to bash in, but he did so anyway, and was rewarded with one kill toward his quest completion. He walloped four more in quick succession, completing his quest. He could have kept on going, but he was getting tired. He didn¡¯t know how to fight properly with a mace, and even with his strength, the running and swinging and leaping around was extremely draining. Not to mention that he¡¯d had to hobble the entire group of bellowing rock trolls. He jogged farther away to regain his breath¡ªletting the rock trolls return back to their glade¡ªwhen he heard voices nearby. ¡°Holy shit. He was actually for real.¡± ¡°I know right, after the first half hour I thought we had been well and truly messed with. But those bellows were actual rock trolls. Do you think he can help us complete that kill quest we all have?¡± Chris quickly hid the mace in a bush, then stepped out from behind the tree. ¡°Alas, I have returned in dejection. I failed to complete my quest. Mine enemies remain alive and the weapon of Steve, Soiler of Smallclothes has been consumed by my hated foe.¡± ¡°There he is¡­ wait¡­ what do you mean?¡± ¡°Alas, I have returned in dejection. I failed to complete my quest. Mine enemies remain alive and the weapon of Steve, Soiler of Smallclothes, has been consumed by my hated foe.¡± ¡°Fuck, I knew it, I shouldn¡¯t have listened to you jerks.¡± ¡°Chill, chill, I¡¯m sure he¡¯s got some replacement heirloom to give to you. This is probably all scripted.¡± ¡°He¡¯d better, it¡¯s not like I can get another mace for free, you all heard the vendor.¡± Chris stepped forward at that moment. ¡°Indeed, fair adventurers. I may have failed my quest, but I have still found the greatest treasure there is to be had¡ª¡± ¡°Yeah? Hand it over, you owe me a new mace,¡± Steve interrupted. Chris stepped forward, digging his hands into his pockets, rummaging through them dramatically. When he was close enough, he pulled his hands out and enveloped Steve in a hug. ¡°Friendship.¡± Chapter 7: Questing When Steve had finally stormed off¡ªafter being teased mercilessly by his ¡®friends¡¯¡ªChris checked his gains. He¡¯d gotten two additional levels from the fight with the trolls, and he¡¯d completed the quest. Sadly, there was no First Completion title to be had, if it even existed. It was irritating, but not unexpected; having to hobble all the rock trolls in the glade made killing them extremely slow. On the other hand, given how irritating they were to fight, and how powerful they were, there would probably be a quest to take them out somewhere in one of the tutorial towns. He¡¯d also received a reward screen for completing the quest. He checked it over now.
Quest Completed! Kill 5 Monsters (5/5) Reward: 125 System Coins, Random Reward
Chris checked his new total of System Coins. He¡¯d gotten 60 for each rock troll he¡¯d killed, for a total of 300, for all five. Given the difference in the quest reward, versus the per-kill rewards, it was safe to assume that the rock trolls were probably a way harder enemy than the quest intended to be fought. He now had 565 System Coins just sitting in his balance, and he still had no idea on how to spend them. He selected the random reward, hoping that it wasn¡¯t friendship. It wasn¡¯t.
Rank F-1 Skill Token
So¡­ what did that do? He tried to activate it. ¡°This is meant to be a damn tutorial,¡± he muttered under his breath. He walked back to the bush, looking for the mace he¡¯d hidden. Then he ran off, looking for some less annoying monsters. ¡°Hey, you, wait!¡± Chris slowed. ¡°Yes?¡± A pudgy teenager holding a katana walked up to him. ¡°Are you Sir Christopher?¡± ¡°I am, noble adventurer.¡± He grinned. ¡°How did you know?¡± ¡°Phil¡¯s group said you were giving out epic quests.¡± ¡°Why, yes,¡± Chris puffed himself up, ¡°yes I am.¡± ¡°Can I have one?¡± ¡°Indeed you may, noble adventurer. I am looking for a squire.¡± He eyed up the overweight teen. ¡°But my compatriots must be in peak physical condition. You will find a glade full of rocks over yonder. Do not enter it. Find a stone outside of its bounds, and, not entering the glade, cast a stone against the boulders inside. Only when you are able to hit the innermost boulder will you be a suitable companion.¡± Chris stooped down and picked up a pebble off the floor and handed it to the teen. ¡°This is the first stone you shall lose in your journey to become a knight.¡± The teen narrowed his eyes suspiciously. ¡°I didn¡¯t get a quest screen.¡± ¡°Tis a hidden quest. Wait! Tarry a moment longer, adventurer. Pray tell, what is your name, noble adventurer?¡± ¡°Bruce.¡± ¡°Farewell, Bruce, we shall meet again. Find me when you have completed your quest. Great treasures await you!¡± Bruce waddled off. Chris waited for a while, hopefully Bruce didn¡¯t spot the dead rock trolls, they still sort of looked like rocks¡ªeven when dead. There was a roar from the direction of the glade, then screaming. ¡°The real treasure was cardio,¡± Chris murmured to himself. ¡°God bless you, Phil.¡± He tossed his¡­ Steve¡¯s mace into the air and caught it again. If there was a First Quest title, or whatever, he wasn¡¯t too broken up about it. Giving out his owns ¡®quests¡¯ was more than worth it. He continued to wander¡ªhis high dexterity allowing him to travel at high speeds.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Huh? Was there more than one tutorial town? Come to think of it, it made sense. The barrier that had blocked him at the last town had said it was number seven-hundred thousand and something. A large stone wall enclosed houses with thatched-roof houses. The wall was manned by humanoids with pallid gray skin, hollow cheekbones, and bright eyes. They were dressed in dull metal armor and many of them wielded bows and they continually launched volley after volley of arrows at the swarm of monsters below. At least he knew where all of the generic wolf mobs had gone. The swarm was almost entirely composed of wolves, although he spotted several rock trolls among their number, pummeling the walls with their rocky fists, soaking up arrows with ease. Chris stepped forward to get a closer look. The trees grew close to the defensive stonework and some of the more agile wolves clambered up the sides of them, launching themselves onto the wall, where they bowled through defenders before being defeated. Moments later, the vanquished monsters rose, lights burning in their eyes. They hurled themselves off the wall, tearing through their former allies. Undead. This was an Undead tutorial town, which meant that the gathering of monsters below was a Beast Horde. Confident he wouldn¡¯t be blasted back by one of the golden barriers; he strode forward intending on joining the horde. One of the wolves near the back turned and looked at him, baring its fangs; it sniffed as him, once, twice, then turned back to the Undead on the wall.
Quest Completed! Join a Beast Horde (1/1) Reward: Beast Horde Protections
New Quest! (Optional ¨C Monster) Conquer Tutorial Town #409008 (Nathak) (0/1) (Optional ¨C Monster/Human ¨C Variable Reward) Defeat Enlightened (Undead) (0/X)
Chris looked at the quest reward first, it didn¡¯t seem like much, but he supposed there was an advantage in being able to attack something in one concerted effort and not having to worry about your fellow monsters stabbing you in the back. He moved down to the two new quests. The first wasn¡¯t going to be completed any time soon. The second was more interesting, but until they got past those walls, things would be difficult. It was surprising that a Beast Horde was attacking now, the human tutorial town had a grace period of fourteen days, give or take¡ªits walls were also only made of wood, unlike the walls of the Undead town. He supposed different species¡¯ tutorials started at different times. It was as good a guess as any. What was really surprising was that the Undead were considered Enlightened. That really threw him for a loop. He¡¯d played so many video games for which the core premise was killing zombies and defeating necromancers. He crept forward, pushing past and between two wolves. He cringed as he did so, but the monsters ignored the jostling. Chris tried not to breathe too deeply, up close the Horde smelled of dirty carpet and wet dog. The smell was pure murder with his boosted perception. He pressed forward, but was forced to halt when arrows smacked into the wolves all around him. He looked up at the wall, the Undead were aiming at him. He crouched, hefting one of the downed wolves onto his shoulder. He continued advancing, using the corpse of the wolf as a shield. More arrows slammed into its side as he walked. As he got closer to the wall he wondered what he was actually going to be doing. There were no ladders and no holes in the wall¡ªalthough the rock trolls were slowly carving out chunks of the fortification. The only way to get up top were the trees which grew too close. Chris shrugged. It was as good a plan as any. Certainly better than getting needlessly pincushioned with arrows. He veered to the right, toward one of the larger trees and buried his mace into the trunk. The Undead noticed what he was doing and soon more and more arrows rained down on him. Some flew past him, hitting trees in quick succession with a steady tock, tock, tock sound. The tree began to groan, so Chris moved behind it and began pushing it forward. The tree collapsed with a shriek of rending wood. It toppled over, its peak wedging itself in between the crenellations. Wolves raced up the side, exploiting the impromptu ramp and flooding the battlements. Chris smiled and was about to follow them up and join the carnage when new shapes appeared on the wall. The Undead had brought out their big guns. Four Undead Knights with blazing eyes and thick bone armor emerged, pushing their way toward the breach in their defenses. Two came from each side, converging on the fallen tree that spilled monsters into their town. They wielded spears and shields of polished bone, laying into the wolves around them, or simply bashing them off the wall. They clustered around the tree, plugging the gap as an axe was brought forward. One of the bone knights set aside its spear and, in two strokes, broke of the top of the tree. The tree slipped, wedging farther down the wall; it was still serviceable as a rampart, but the wolves now had to leap up onto the battlements, which made them vulnerable to the Undead spearmen that fended them off with a hedge of sharpened points. One of the Undead on the wall pointed Chris out to the bone knights. The bone knight with the axe scowled, then hurled the hatchet at him with blistering speed. Chapter 8: Dark Smoke Chris shifted the body of the wolf around just in time. The axe buried into its body, kicking like a jackhammer and sending Chris flying back. A burning line of pain surface on his forearm as the axe head bit clean through the wolf¡¯s body and gnawed at his arm beneath. He landed on his back, the corpse of the wolf heavy on top of him as monsters continued to stream around him, heedless of the bone knights on the wall. As the monsters moved around him, he saw flashes of the wall between him. The bone knight that had thrown the axe was staring down toward him, its spear now retrieved and poised to throw. Chris remained still as his mind spun. What was it waiting for? Movement? Stillness? For him to rise as an Undead? He thought back to when he first saw the battle. The dead wolves only rose again if they had been touched by an Undead before they died. He wasn¡¯t sure if getting hit by the bone knights¡¯ spears and shields counted as being touched. He wasn¡¯t interested in finding out anyway, thank you very much. The axe was just a normal metal and wood one, so that must mean that the bone knight expected him to stay dead. He happily fulfilled its expectations. The wolves continued to move around him, and the bone knight was still looking. Then it turned away. Chris breathed a sigh of relief. He waited for another few minutes as the tree ramp was pushed to one side, letting it fall to the side with a thud. Then he pushed the wolf corpse off of him and began army crawling away, his mace in one hand. He paused after making it two meters, then crawled back and retrieved the axe from the body of the wolf, flashing a middle finger up at the wall. Sadly, the bone knights were no longer up there after the crisis with the tree had been averted. With a weapon in each hand, he crawled into a bush, then watched the battle from relative safety as the sky began to darken.
The Beast Horde was nearly broken by midnight. The rock trolls had been defeated when the defenders hurled stones down on their heads. Torches and burning bales of hay had been dropped to provide illumination near to the wall, but still, large areas of the battleground were wreathed in darkness. It was then that Chris decided to make his move. He¡¯d left his stolen axe and mace behind; instead he carried several bushes under each arm. He snuck forward, slipping from shadow to shadow. He prayed under his breath that the Undead didn¡¯t have dark vision or something. Then he¡¯d look like an idiot. No arrows came his way, so he continued forward, until he was near one of the burning bales. With most of the monsters dead, it wasn¡¯t too hard to maneuver around. He was as close as he could get without entering into one of the lighted areas. But that was where he needed to be. He dashed forward, dodging from side to side as arrows began to whine toward him. When he was near several of the burning hay bales, he tossed the green bushes onto the thick of the searching flames. The fire crawled over the wet vegetation and began belching out dark smoke. Chris made good his escape, but one arrow buried itself in his thigh. He gasped. He didn¡¯t like the amount of pain he¡¯d been experiencing since he got here. Thankfully, no other arrows hit him before he once again disappeared into the night. He took a moment to lean against a tree, wondering why he was doing this. He knew why, of course. But it was something you needed to ask yourself after you got hit with an arrow. He¡¯d been trapped and powerless in an alien laboratory, experimented on and turned into something other than human. He knew how tutorials worked, they all had to end eventually, and there were even odds that he¡¯d be returned back to the alien operating table. If he was, then he needed to be strong, he needed to be ready. He had needed the distraction earlier, trolling Steve and Bruce, but he genuinely did need more titles¡ªthe bonuses they gave were too much to pass up.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Gasping, he wiggled the arrow out his thigh and dropped it. He wiped his hand against his clothes, but there was surprisingly little blood¡ªprobably due to the fact that he had Slime flowing through his veins. He tested his weight on his injured leg, then staggered upright and returned with more bushes that he¡¯d harvested earlier. Now that smoke was obscuring the defenders¡¯ vision, it was easier to get close. He dumped more and more vegetation onto the burning bales until thick smoke obscured the top of the walls. It wouldn¡¯t suffocate them, but it would ruin the visibility. Now that the Undead couldn¡¯t spot him, he searched around the bottom of the wall. A few fallen humanoids lay at the bottom, ripped to pieces by the wolves. He began gathering some of the intact armor, stripping the corpses of their valuable protection. The he heard his right arm gurgle. What the hell? He had almost forgotten about it, given that it had been inactive and he¡¯d had other things on his plate. Now, however, he could feel a palpable hunger coming from the limb. It had been the place the alien experimenter had injected with the Slime, of course there had to be something odd about it. He looked away as his arm became jelly-like in consistency and began stretching toward the nearest corpse. Was it¡­? It was. The Slime arm stretched farther, settling over the Undead corpse¡­ the redead corpse? Devived? Reparted? Receased¡­ no, desuscitated, that was good. Who knew finding the proper terminology for talking about dead undead was such a pain? The Slime arm stretched farther, settling over the desuscitated Undead. Chris still had sensation through the appendage, so he could feel as his arm pressed against the corpse¡¯s clammy skin and began to dissolve it. He looked over, unable to help himself, then wished he hadn¡¯t. Gross. He didn¡¯t pull away though, he could feel the satisfaction the Slime radiated; more importantly, he didn¡¯t want a starving Slime to do to him what it was doing to the corpse. It was best to think of his Slime arm as a pet. Like a cat. Something that attached itself to him, didn¡¯t listen to instructions, and would eat and do whatever it damn well pleased. He blocked out the sound of the Slime burping as it turned back into his arm, then he strapped on the armor and a particular style of helmet he¡¯d spent some time searching for. With everything else done, and his arm fed, he went back for the final piece of the puzzle. His ladder. Calling it a ladder was a little generous, perhaps, but it would do. He¡¯d carved down a small tree with his stolen axe and gnawed a few handholds into it. It would do. He adjusted his armor, shoved the mace and axe into his rope belt, then lifted the ladder and began maneuvering it around the trees. He ignored the smoke-filled battleground where he¡¯d looted the bodies. Instead, he circled around the town, to a side that the Beast Horde hadn¡¯t assaulted. This part of the Undead town was far calmer and opened onto a plain rather than a forest. He set his ladder down in the long grass, then adjusted his helmet so that its brim mostly hid the fact that his eyes didn¡¯t glow. He looked up at the wall. The torches up top were intermittent at best and the Undead guards had gathered around the smoked out area, prepared for an assault. Even the few on this side of the town were distracted by the smoke. Perfect. Chris lifted his ladder back up and set it against the wall with a whisper of wood on stone. Then he began to climb, his mouth drying out more and more with every hand and foothold he pushed himself up with. His heart hammered frantically in his chest, so loud that he was afraid it would betray his ascent to a race whose hearts did not beat. Finally, he reached the top. He peeked over the crenellations. Then, seeing no one facing him, he slipped over the wall. He pushed the ladder away, letting it fall. The sound of its impact was swallowed by the long grass, reduced to a rustling thud. He pretended to look over the side, feigning curiosity, just in case the other guards had heard. None had. He adjusted his helmet once again, pulled free his axe and mace, and began walking. He watched the other guards and soon his walk morphed into a march. A guard, walking in the opposite direction approached him. The Undead¡¯s hand shifted on its weapon. Chris¡¯ breath stuck in his throat, but the guard just marched on past him and kept on going about its patrols¡ªoccasionally glancing over at the smoke. Inside the walls, ladders allowed the guards to ascend and descend when their rotations were over. Where they were going, Chris had no idea. He doubted they were going for a midnight snack, or a nap. From what he knew, Undead didn¡¯t need either of those. Emboldened by their lack of reaction to him, he summoned up the nerve to leave the wall. He descended a ladder that was far more structurally stable and aesthetically pleasing than the slapdash one he¡¯d put together and set both feet upon the street of the town. He made it down without incident. The town was eerily empty, the shuttered windows were broken, hanging loose from windows, and the thatching of the rooves was patchy and rotted from this angle. Doors were smashed open and the entire town seemed to be in a state of complete disrepair. He turned a corner and came face to face with hundreds of Undead. Chapter 9: Bonewright Hundreds of undead sat slumped, side by side, against the walls of buildings that enclosed the town square. Their eyes burned dimly, in a state that seemed more like temporary inactivity rather than death or sleep. The four bone knights Chris had seen earlier sat slumped together against a far wall¡ªlooking like discarded dolls, their ribcages swung open like furnaces demanding coal. In the center of the square, rows of Undead artisans clustered around torchlit workstations. To their sides were stacked piles of bones. They hammered and clamped and crimped and cut their materials together, laboriously crafting more bone knights from their heaped supplies. Chris ducked away. Where were all the Undead? The human tutorial town had been bustling with people. This town, should have held thousands. Instead, there were only several hundred on duty. The town might have been conquered, ransacked, the broken fixtures of many houses lent credibility to such an assertion; conversely, the Undead had little need for such things as doors or windows, which could be allowed to fade into disrepair¡ªgathering their numbers in a single central location was far more efficient and secure. The bones had to come from somewhere as well. But that was far easier to solve. The Undead had stripped the forests of weaker monsters to fuel the creation of their knights. That would certainly explain why they were so quiet, except for the rock trolls, which would be far harder to take down¡ªgiven their durability and tendency to congregate together. The Undead¡ªthe sapient ones at least¡ªwere all humanoids, however. Which meant the bodies had to come from somewhere. He peeked back around the corner. Now that he was looking, the Undead all had fine features and pointed ears¡ªonce one looked beyond the whole ¡®being dead¡¯ thing. Elves. Chris had already seen that the race was capable of turning wolves, so the predominance of elves was more likely due to availability rather than a prerequisite for the creation of Undead. There weren¡¯t any Undead wolves strolling around here, though. Maybe it was something to do with them being Enlightened or not. Undead wolves were possible, he¡¯d seen them rise; however, they¡¯d also seemed a little feral, just not aggressive to their fellow Undead. That meant that the Undead constantly needed a supply of Enlightened races to replenish their numbers. Elves if they were nearby, humans if they weren¡¯t, and probably any other race that they came across as well. He doubted the Undead were fussy. They just needed someone that was living and able to become dead. He turned and walked away from the square, intending on using one of the abandoned houses to shelter in until he figured out what to do. It was late and he should probably get some sleep, maybe some food as well if it was available. Although¡­ he didn¡¯t feel particularly hungry. He looked at his right arm suspiciously, narrowing his eyes. Yeah¡­ he didn¡¯t want to think on that too deeply. Chris ran into a patrolling Undead before he could duck into a house. It took no notice of him, especially after a mace caved in its skull. He wanted to increase his Undead killing quest anyway, it was just a good opportunity, and the only one he had available, to be honest. He didn¡¯t know whether the Undead slept like the dead or not, and smashing skulls wasn¡¯t super loud, but it wasn¡¯t quiet either¡ªambushing solitary enemies was his best shot at getting good results in the quest. Chris dragged the desuscitated body through a doorway. The domicile he¡¯d chosen was small and cramped, but a counter blocked the view of the floor from the window and door¡ªmaking it a great place to hunker down for the night.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. He brought the corpse behind the counter and patted it on the shoulder. ¡°Just you and me now, buddy.¡± If there was one blessing, it was that the corpse wasn¡¯t rotten and didn¡¯t smell. It was surprising, but also not. Rotten muscles didn¡¯t really move very well. He closed his eyes and faded off to sleep.
Chris woke mid-morning light streaming over the countertop and his arm draped over the corpse. That was creepy enough, but it would have been slightly less disturbing if his arm hadn¡¯t gotten peckish while he slept and made a midnight snack of half the body¡¯s head, neck, and torso. He jerked his arm away, reining in a surprised exclamation at the last moment when he remembered where he was. Nowhere good. He stood and exited the house. He wandered around the Undead town for a while, it was even more deserted during the day than it had been during the night. The bone artisans were still in the square, working tirelessly through their piles of bones as parts of bone knight took shape. The inactive Undead must have risen bright and early, and a fraction of them ferried bones that had been stripped clean over to the artisans. The four bone knights were still inactive, their ribcages hanging open to receive whatever it was that powered them. Beside them now lay several small pieces of interlocking breastplate¡ªthe first parts of a fifth bone knight. There was a shield and spear wielding guard standing at each of the three entrances to the town square to protect the artisans. It was daylight now, and they looked far more alert than some of the other guards. Those bone knights were deadly, and, as a result, the artisans that made them were invaluable to the Undead. They couldn¡¯t be allowed to live. Chris ducked back into the house where he¡¯d stashed his victim and held his right arm out to half-eaten corpse. ¡°Go on, eat it.¡± The arm did not react. He tried to convey the idea of the body being stripped of flesh by Slime, leaving smooth bone behind, only to be met with a sense of reluctance from his arm. It seemed to be full. He tried again. Grudgingly, his arm rippled and spread itself over the dead flesh. There was no full-body dissolving like last time. Instead, thin lines emerged over the corpse¡¯s clothes and skin. The body¡¯s flesh sagged and suddenly collapsed, leaving a skeleton sitting in its place, leaving folded flesh and meat slumped around the legs and hips of a gleaming skeleton. Chris didn¡¯t fail to notice that the internal organs were gone, but he was unsure if the Slime had consumed them now or during the night. He poked the bones and they collapsed with a clatter¡ªthe joints had been dissolved as well. He picked them all up in a messy armload, then circled around the town via back alleys. He marched confidently toward the central square, his roundabout route making it seem as if he was coming from the town gates. He joined step at the back of a line of Undead ferrying bones to the artisans. The guard gave him a brief glance, but turned away after seeing nothing amiss in its cursory inspection¡ªless suspicious of the members in a group than it would be of a lone individual. Chris was through. He lingered behind, going at the minimum acceptable speed. The Undead who had gone ahead of him were already halfway out of the square before he dumped his bones in the pile. He pulled his weapons from his belt, one in each hand, and walked up to two of the artisans working side by side. One of the artisans turned to him and gurgled something in a language he didn¡¯t understand, but sounded like clotted blood and burnt skin. It was the first time he¡¯d heard an Undead speak. The thing paused mid-sentence as it met his eyes. Chris smiled, then bashed in its skull. A swing of his axe decapitated the other. Both Undead fell as the other two across the tables looked up. He jumped onto the work tables, bone scattering beneath his feet. The artisans ran in two direction. Chris went for the slowest as the guards drawn in by the commotion converged on him. He jumped down from the table, driving the Undead artisan into the ground with a single blow. He turned as the first of the three guards reached him, spear at the ready. Chris stepped backward, giving him a moment¡¯s space as he prepared to fight. Chapter 10: Xenocidal The first Undead guard was happy to menace with its spear, hemming Chris in and keeping him at bay until the other two arrived. Unwilling to fight three versus one, Chris lunged forward, hooking the spear away and pushing into the Undead guard¡¯s reach, making its spear ineffective at the close range. Taking notes from his fight with the rock troll, Chris brought his knee up into the rim of the guard¡¯s circular shield. At the same time he broke the Undead¡¯s knee with a mace strike aimed down and around. The guard crumpled and he exploited the opening to bring the axe blade down on its neck, he pivoted downward with the attack and ended the motion on one knee with the guard¡¯s head rolling to a halt a meter away, its mouth gaping wide. He could get used to this, it felt just like some of the MMOs he used to play. The weapons, the speed, everything. He shot to his feet just as the remaining two guards were upon him. Chris nicknamed the first Tweedledum and the second Tweedledead. Tweedledum lunged forward with its spear, intending on putting him on the back foot from the first strike, as Tweedledead circled around, intending on attacking from behind. Chris couldn¡¯t let that happen. Tweedledum jabbed at him again, and he knocked the spear aside and bodyslammed the guard. Tweedledum hit the ground and Chris trampled straight over the Undead fighter. As he passed over, he made sure to clock the walking corpse around the side of the head with his trusty mace. Tweedledum was wearing a helmet, so the strike clanged off the side. The second attack did the trick. Chris spun on the spot and brought his mace down on Tweedledum from straight above, fending off a spear to the neck from Tweedledead with his axe as he did so. The mace caved in the nose guard of Tweedledum¡¯s helm, then continued down to create a cratered mess that could have been the inspiration for a Nitsch painting. He was about to deal with Tweedledead when he saw more guards approaching and the surviving artisan piling bones into the rib compartment of one of the bone knights. Maybe¡­ yeah, screw it. He charged at the one remaining artisan. Boots thundered off the ground as the guards moved to intercept. They were too late. The artisan turned at the last moment and saw him approaching. It frantically stuff several more bones inside, then slammed the doors shut. It pressed one hand to the knight¡¯s chest and the light in its eyes winked out, a second before Chris¡¯ mace took its head clean off as he ran past. The joints of the bone knight squealed and creaked as it stood. Chris put distance between himself and the armored Undead. He heard it scoop up its bone shield and spear, then its joints screamed again. Chris dove to one side as the knight¡¯s spear whistled past him, missing by a whisker, close enough that he felt the wind of its passage brush against his cheek. It was only luck that saved his from the second spear. The bone knight must have scooped it up and thrown it hastily, because it passed a foot over his head and slammed into the wall of a building. Spear and stonework shattered into shrapnel, pelting him with shards of rubble and bone. He soldiered on. His constitution could survive a few minor dings. He began zig-zagging though, and thankfully the third spear missed by a mile. However, the evasive maneuvers had allowed the pursuing guards to catch up. The guards¡¯ weapons skated off his armor, but the tips of some jabbed painfully into the gaps between. Chris stopped weaving left and right, continuing on straight instead. He managed to turn the corner just in time, as the bone knight¡¯s final spear blasted into the wall right where he had been. Shrapnel struck him again, harder this time, but he had no choice but to power through. The guards were close behind.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. He turned into an alley then stopped just inside. He was making a gamble. He could only hope it was worth it. The first guard turned the corner, its spear pointing up. Rather than wasting time in a wide curve so that its weapon was aligned straight and forward, it instead raised it to follow him through the alley at speed. It was a mistake. Chris was waiting for it. Even its helm wasn¡¯t enough to avert the blow as a mace and an axe descended from either side. It dropped lifelessly to the ground as the guard following it stopped too late, tripping over the body of its fellow warrior and ending with its brains painting the alley floor. Chris fled. The bodies of the two Undead guards formed a natural barrier, forcing those behind it to slow and pick their way over the top of them. The alley turned a sharp right, then continued on. As soon as he was around the corner, he stuffed his weapons into his rope belt and jumped as his strength would allow. He pushed one leg out, then hopped and shimmied his way up the alley walls. He grasped at the thatching and used it to drag himself up. Then a handful of rain-rotted thatch came free in his hand. Suddenly he was dangling by an arm as an Undead rounded the corner¡ªthis time wary of an ambush that never came. It charged, spear thrusting forward. Chris had no choice but to pull himself up with a single arm, praying that his one handful of thatch would hold. It did. He felt the spearhead brush against his boot, then he was sprawled out on the rotted roof of a building, gasping for breath. Arrows began to fall around him as the archers spotted him. He stood and began running along the roof, making sure to only step where he knew there was a supporting wall running beneath him. Then ran up one roof, spread his arms out wide, and jumped onto an area of rotted thatch. He fell, but his outstretched arms slowed him. He touched down in a crouch, part of the roof collapsing around him. The room he landed in had a table and a chair in one corner, a bed in the other, and a small cooking area off to one side. More importantly, it was one of the few buildings which still had an intact set of doors and shutters¡ªmaking it a safe place to rest until the archers on the wall managed to direct the guards to his position. He sat down in the chair and brought up his Status.
Name Christopher Hill
Level 9
Class None
Race Hybrid: Human (F-1), Slime (F-2)
Cultivation None
Dao None
Traits Human Potential, Monster Hybrid, Monstrous Constitution, Monstrous Assimilation, Amorphous
Titles Genesis of Blood, Prime Underdog, Agent of Self-destruction, Prince of Poison, Makeshift Master, Prodigy, Legendary Prodigy, Unrivalled Prodigy, Horde Disciple I, Xenocidal, Infiltrator
System Coins 965
Strength 41
Dexterity 49
Constitution 59
Endurance 46
Intelligence 45
Wisdom 42
Perception 41
Luck 61
He put his three points each into dexterity and strength, the checked his three new titles. Horde Disciple I: Enter [1] city while part of a Beast Horde. +1 to all stats. Xenocidal: The first in your cohort to kill an Enlightened that is not a member of your own race. +5 to all stats. +3% to all stats. Infiltrator: The first non-traitor in your cohort to spend a night in the Town of an enemy faction. +5 to Dexterity, Endurance, and Luck. Chris smiled. That was what he was here for. Free stats by doing what he did best. Making a nuisance of himself. His Undead killing quest had hit eight total Undead slain so far. He wasn¡¯t going to stop anytime soon, but he was pleased with how far he¡¯d gotten. He could technically complete the quest whenever he wanted, but he intended to get at least into the double digits before he handed it in. It had a variable reward. The more Undead he killed, the better the reward. He rested in the chair for a little while longer, then peeked through the shutters. Outside he could see a group of three guards patrolling the street on high alert. They were so attentive that Chris almost felt bad. It was a shame they wouldn¡¯t see him coming. Chapter 11: Four down He burst out of the door, before the three Undead could react, two were already down. The third turned just in time to block the blow aimed at its head. Unlike most of the other Undead, this one wielded a curving, two-handed saber. Sparks burst from its length as it met with an axe and the flanged head of a mace. The Undead gritted its teeth, but its grip held. It pushed back with its blade, steel screeching as its edge flicked upward. Chris stumbled at the shove; the Undead pushed the attack, its saber flicked through the air above its head as it turned its hands, reversing the momentum of the blade and bringing it down in a cut from above and to the side. Chris blocked, sent staggering by the force of the blow. He continued backward even after he regained his balance, putting some distance between him and the fighter. The Undead charged again, then ducked, bringing the blade arcing around toward Chris¡¯ less protected legs. Chris jumped, bending his knees and stomping down on the blade as he did so. The Undead stumbled forward, unwilling to release its sword. A mace slammed into its temple and the sword fell from its nerveless fingers. It pitched over onto the street. Chris jammed his weapons back into his belt and hefted the saber. It was heavy, exactly what made it so hard to fend off its blows. He waved it around, he was going to go full Braveheart with this bad boy. He stalked through the town, running into two more Undead, just as he turned the corner. ¡°Hello, boys.¡± He grinned and brought the two patrolling guards down with a single slash that bisected one and buried halfway through the other¡ªbiting through its breastplate. They didn¡¯t have time to react as their severed spearheads hit the ground, and their bodies followed moments later. They needed to check if an enemy was Undead or not before they attacked. Chris didn¡¯t. Everything in this decaying town was an Undead. His enemies needed verification; he needed more targets. He tested out the weight of the saber in one hand as he eyed the bisected spearman¡¯s shield. The shield was larger than most in this town. He wanted it, but it really depended on whether he¡¯d be able to swing around the sword singlehanded. He pried the shield from the Undead¡¯s hands with a grin. He¡¯d give it a swing. Then a bone knight rounded the corner at the far end of the street. It stopped as it saw him standing over two vanquished guards. Chris gave it a friendly wave, then sprinted back around the corner, running toward the wall and the ladder. The bone knight thundered after him but was thankfully too slow to catch him in time. He flew up the ladder, taking it three rungs at a time, finally coming face to face with one of the archers on the wall. The archers had even less armor than the guards did, one lazy slash was all it took. On to the next. He charged the next archer as it nocked its bow and released. Chris caught the arrow on his shield then cut his enemy down before it could loose another arrow. The Undead tumbled from the wall. The bone knight was behind him now, preparing to scale the ladder, and seemingly unwilling to throw its spear. Was that its last weapon? Chris laughed. He could live with that. Ahead of him, two Undead spearmen stood side by side, weapons braced and at the ready.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. Chris charged them both. As he neared, he cut at their spears. Then he jumped. The severed spearheads hit the ground as he bowled into them, picked himself up, and kept on running. He ignored the two Undead behind him. Their weapons had been broken and they¡¯d impede the bone knight which had reached the top of the ladder. He cut down two more archers, catching their arrows on his shield. Archers fired at him from after where the wall turned a sharp left, but he didn¡¯t pay the occasional arrow pinging of his armor all too much attention. He was running most of the time anyway. Most of the arrows flew wide of him. Another three archers, and one spearman, went down under the unstoppable power of his saber, before the bone knight began to gain on him. ¡°See you later, suckers,¡± he said, then threw the shield and saber over the wall, vaulting down after them. He landed in a crouch, his knees aching as he rolled forward. However, with his constitution, he was able to absorb the impact without serious injury. He picked up his saber and shield as the ground shook beside him. The bone knight had leapt off the wall. It hadn¡¯t landed so well, though. It overbalanced, keeling forward. He kicked its arm wide, wincing as his own big toe broke from the impact. He struck the shoulder joint of its spear arm with his saber. The blade bit deep into the bone and then stuck fast when he tried to pull it free. The bone knight jerked its spear arm, sending Chris flying through the air. It didn¡¯t come without cost to the knight. Its shoulder groaned horribly and the saber embedded in its arm twisted and warped. Chris picked himself to his feet and sprinted away from the wall, his knees twinging painfully. He pulled the mace from his belt and held his shield out behind him. Arrows disappeared into the long grass around him as he put distance between himself and the wall. Finally, the arrows consistently fell short and he breathed a sigh of relief. A bone shield slammed into his back, then bounced into the grass beside him. ¡°I am¡­ really¡­ starting¡­ to hate¡­ this guy,¡± he spat. Chris twisted painfully in the grass and stared at the bone knight that had thrown its shield at him in the world¡¯s biggest dick move. Who did it think it was? Captain America? The knight reached down with its working offhand and grabbed its spear, then it charged toward him. Its joints groaned as it lumbered forward and the doors around its ribcage now seemed to be burned and blackened. It was consuming itself for fuel now. Chris rose achingly to his feet. He wanted to run. There was no point in fighting the thing if it would run out of juice in the next few minutes. He tried to run, but something ached within his chest and his left ankle felt as if he¡¯d sprained it. He turned back and prepared to meet the bone knight¡¯s charge. Just before its spear hit him in the gut, he danced to one side, his left ankle almost giving out beneath him. He slammed his mace into the knight¡¯s back as it passed. A large chunk of its armor broke away, exposing the bone furnace at its center. Blue flames roared within the blackened central cavity and, exposed to air, began to lick their way across the knight¡¯s surface. Soon blue fire covered its form. Chris took a step back. Not long now. The knight threw its spear in a blur of movement. Chris leaned to one side, holding up his shield to block. The shield broke upon contact, and Chris¡¯ arm blazed with agony, but the bone spear deflected away into the long grass. The blow sent him somersaulting backward five feet where he lay groaning on belly, splayed out with mouth full of grass. He heard the bone knight approach. He needed to stand. He pushed himself up, just in time to dive away as the bone knight reached for him with a blackened fist covered in blue flames. He rolled as the knight stomped down at his head with one massive foot, then rolled again as it pitched forward, reaching for him, intending on crushing him under its bulk. He kept on rolling like he was playing Dark Souls and just managed to avoid being brained by its outstretched fist. Flame scorched Chris¡¯ face, horribly hot, as he stood one last time. He brought the mace down on the knight¡¯s elbow. The joint shattered, weakened as it was by the consuming fire. He limped forward and then knocked the bone knight¡¯s head clean off as it struggled to look at him. For good measure he slammed the mace into the knight¡¯s back, breaking more holes into the bone furnace as the blue fire raged across the body, turning it to brittle bone charcoal. He looked back at the Undead town, wondering when they would send out a squad of guards to deal with him, now that he¡¯d defeated their last remaining bone-knight-slash-artisan. He stuffed the mace back into his belt, but was surprised to see that he¡¯d lost his axe in the tussle. Where it had gone, he did not know. He doubted he¡¯d have time to look for it¡­ however¡­ nearby were the bone knight¡¯s spear and shield. Chuckling under his breath, he picked up the weapons and limped back into the forest. If he wasn¡¯t careful, stealing weapons was going to become a habit. Chapter 12: Mana Once he was deeper into the forest, Chris checked his System Coins total. He was up to 1,600. He¡¯d also reached Level 10, and completed the associated quest.
Quest Completed! Reach Level 10 (1/1) Reward: Mana Manual (Basic)
He immediately received a new quest to reach Level 20, he closed it down. Rather than a book, a small crystal appeared in his hand. It reminded him of the Beast Soul Gem that had given him the weapon he couldn¡¯t figure out how to manifest. He absorbed the Basic Mana Manual. Knowledge flooded into him. He became aware of a pulsing ball of untamed power at his center. He mentally prodded it, noticing how it responded to his attention. The Mana Manual had already informed him he could move it around, but he tried to do it anyway. He pulled strands of mana from the ball, twisting them into pretzels before letting them sink back into his core. He was disappointed at not discovering an ancient pretzel-based cultivation technique, but that was momentary. That was another thing, cultivation. He could absorb energy from mana-rich locations or treasures, then somehow mobilize that energy within him. Doing so would allow him to use certain abilities, but how he could actually obtain them wasn¡¯t covered by the Manual. Then was the idea of manipulating the mana inside himself to flow around his body. Doing so would increase his efficiency in using mana, increase his mana regen, and also enable him to use certain skills and abilities. Once again, however, he had no idea how to actually do this. Finally, the Manual explicitly stated that forcing his mana through the wrong meridians too early could damage his cultivation at best, and kill him at worst. It did give him an idea, though. He doubted pulling his mana to certain areas would do anything bad, and the Manual didn¡¯t explicitly forbid it¡­ so¡­ He pulled a trickle of mana from his center, connecting it up to the tattoo of the claw-bladed polearm from the hybrid creature he¡¯d fought against. He released the stream, and, unlike his mana pretzels, it didn¡¯t fall back into his center. The thread of mana remained in place, anchored by the tattoo, but doing nothing else. Chris pushed at his mana. A long wooden shaft, with a grip of the hybrid monster¡¯s black, seal-like skin appeared in his hand. A thin talon extended from the front, it was curved like a sickle, making it less useful as a stabbing weapon, but it seemed like it could double as a poleaxe and scythe, if needed. It reminded him of a khopesh on a pole. He gave it a few experimental swings. It was a good weapon: light; maneuverable; well balanced. He aimed it at a branch. The curved blade cut through with minimal resistance. It was sharp too. Then he felt a sting at his center. His mana was rapidly depleting as long as he had the weapon summoned. He pulled his mana away from it. The connecting thread remained, but the drain vanished at the same time as the khopesh polearm disintegrated in his hand. It seemed like a good weapon, it just wasn¡¯t one he could use for sustained periods. He looked at his other quests, he was twenty-two kills through the Undead killing quest. On the one hand, he could finish it now and get an easy reward, on the other, it was from participating in the Beast Horde as best as he could tell; the Beast Horde was gone, however, so he wasn¡¯t sure whether he¡¯d get a similar quest again any time soon, if at all. It was still mid-morning, despite how hectic the fight through the Undead town had been. Daylight was burning and he had several choices. His toe still hurt from kicking the bone knight, but strangely the pain had diminished. Cuts and scrapes he¡¯d received were gone too, and even the arrow wound in his thigh had closed up, leaving a scar behind. Constitution healing stuff so quickly was weird to experience.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. He had a few options. He could hunt some Undead in the forest; they would, no doubt, be looking for people to kill and turn¡ª including humans. The bodies of the Beast Horde monsters were likely still being stripped for bones by the Undead, although those efforts might slow down now that the artisans were dead. Finally, he could go back and harass the rock trolls. They had to be guarding something. Strong monsters congregating around rare materials and places of power was practically a trope of video games¡ªand this world operated similar to one. The first seemed random, the second seemed uncertain, the third sounded like a good time, though. Maybe his mana would refill. He wanted to test out his khopesh polearm.
The boost from his titles were hard to ignore. With the added stats, particularly dexterity, taking down the rock trolls had become far easier. He was already on his seventh rock troll, and no longer needed to hobble the creatures to prevent them from overwhelming him with numbers. It did raise questions about his earlier fight, though. Originally, he¡¯d thought he¡¯d been some sort of badass, but it might be that his stats were more responsible for that. Put simply, he had a lot of boosts to all his stats. He didn¡¯t know what exactly they all did, but even with the fantasy MMOs he¡¯d played on the diginet, he oughtn¡¯t to be able to beat trained warriors so easily¡ªand everyone knew MMOs were rigged to be easier for players. He probably wasn¡¯t a ninja warrior. Something was compensating, and stats seemed to be the simple answer. His boosts were completely absurd. He had the all-round attributes of someone his level or higher who¡¯d specced exclusively into a single attribute. Come to think of it, if there was one thing that was really surprising, it was how much of a struggle it had been, relatively speaking. Three prepared enemies were enough to almost overwhelm him, and the bone knight had been absurdly dangerous¡ªit probably would have killed him if he hadn¡¯t gotten a strike to its bone furnace area. He might be strong and lucky, but his enemies were actually well trained, and well equipped. They had been fighting for longer than he had, and it did show. It would only get worse as he progressed. Right now, with his stats, he was an idiot savant¡ªgifted in certain areas and grossly deficient everywhere else. This was only a tutorial zone, and he doubted these Undead were the most powerful or best trained of their kind. There would be real monsters out there¡ªpeople who had the best titles and the best training. If he didn¡¯t step up his game, he was screwed when he finally met them. In fact, given humanity¡¯s general underpreparedness, he was skeptical of how effective they would all be against the Undead, even if they had the same levels. Suddenly his little pranks earlier didn¡¯t seem so entertaining. The Starter Protections would hold for half a month, but the first Beast Horde would hit one week in. How did you train people who had never fought for real into warriors who could protect themselves against a horde of ravening monsters? There was one simple answer. You couldn¡¯t. Not overnight. Not in a week. Not even in a month. The only hope they had was in the powers they could acquire. The strength they could steal. Training would come later, years down the line, perhaps. Suddenly the purpose of the first in cohort bonuses became clear. The System didn¡¯t expect them to survive. It expected them to struggle and die, as a few lucky or skilled standouts gained the necessary power to defeat what was thrown at them in the early days. Well, he was happy to get more strength. Hopefully there¡¯d be something cool from defeating the rock trolls. He¡¯d been bashing them with his mace for a while now, and except for a couple of incidents where he¡¯d gotten careless, the fight had been relatively uneventful. His mana was also refilling faster inside the glade, indicating something special about this place that he didn¡¯t have the ability to sense further. Eighteen were down, and there were five remaining. Chris took a step back, stowing his mace and summoning his Beast Soul Weapon. His mana began draining quickly, so he got to work. He hooked the inside of the curved blade around a troll¡¯s leg, cutting halfway through before the weapon¡¯s momentum halted. Chris vanished then resummoned the blade and took out the monster¡¯s neck with an axe-like blow. He moved on to the next, continuing until the last troll keeled over in front of him. He let his weapon vanish as he looked around. Nothing special seemed to be happening. He shrugged and began walking away. Then he remembered his fight with the hybrid, something that felt like it had happened an age ago. He went to get the bone spear he¡¯d stashed nearby; he was running low on mana, so he didn¡¯t want to use his Beast Soul Weapon frivolously, and his mace wasn¡¯t exactly a cutting implement. He picked it up, along with the shield and returned to the troll corpses, then began getting down to the gristly work of poking them full of holes in order to find out whether they had any crystals stashed on them. Chapter 13: Cultivation It was understandably difficult finding the crystals within the bodies, but Chris eventually found two of them. The process of finding them had sped up when he realized that his Slime arm would subtly vibrate every time it came near one of the gems. After that, it was just a process of using it like a metal detector for crystals. He¡¯d placed the two Soul Gems nearby, but now he picked them up. They both had the same identifying information.
Beast Soul Gem Type: Cultivation Technique (Troll) Rank: F-1
He was about to absorb the first in his left hand, when he felt a palpable hunger from his other arm. It vibrated harder as he brought the Soul Gem nearer, before surging forward like a slimy tide. It enveloped the Soul Gem, then shrank back. His arm hummed in contentment as its fleshy look returned, then gained a grayish cast.
Trait Assimilated! Stone Form (Troll)
Chris tapped his graying hand with a fingernail, there was a faint click, as if he were flicking stone. Cool. It looked like his arm had absorbed the trolls¡¯ ability to turn to stone. He tried flexing, but the gray arm was completely rigid. He waved it around. ¡°Can I have my arm back?¡± After getting no response, he pushed the idea of his arm reverting back to normal to the Slime. The gray tone to his skin disappeared as he wiggled his newly restored fingers. There was a weird rolling sensation on his skin, a mobile pressure, like the feeling of touching nettles after the pain faded. He mentally prodded the Slime again and his hand became stone-like again. ¡°Okay, that¡¯s cool.¡± He picked up the other Soul Gem in his left arm. The Slime didn¡¯t seem as interested this time, although Chris sensed that it would eat it if it could. Chris absorbed the Beast Soul Cultivation Technique, it sank in as normal. Unlike with the Beast Soul Weapon, no tattoo was left behind on his skin. Instead, the power of the crystal rushed up along his veins before it settled at the back of his skull. Then it faded, and his mind was filled with the knowledge of how and where to run his mana through his body. He tested it out, delving back into his center. He pulled a thread of mana from his center, looping and curling and twisting it around his being in the way dictated by the Soul Gem. Finally, the thread rejoined back to his center as the mana pattern imprinted itself more firmly. His mana regeneration had been a slow drip, now it sped up. The incoming mana flowed along the pathways he¡¯d created and sank into his center, widening the newly-created channels as it did so. His arm also looked like it had become more solid and rocky¡ªat least until he dismissed the Stone Form effect. The Cultivation Technique boosted the effectiveness of the trait, that was good to know. It suddenly occurred to him that the Undead hadn¡¯t just been harvesting bones from the Beast Horde, but Soul Gems as well. Well¡­ he knew what he was going to do.
He ran back to the Undead town, wielding the bone knight¡¯s spear and shield as an extra screw you to the walking corpses. When he returned, most of the bodies had been removed, but there were still fifty or so Undead picking through the carnage, deboning the wolves with sharp knives and retrieving the occasional Soul Gem that surfaced.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Most of the Undead were workers, lightly armored and armed only with their skinning and butchering knives. Unarmed civilians? Chris needed no further invitation. He charged in, spear swinging. Five Undead workers were down before they got the hint. Archers began releasing arrows from the walls and the workers retreated. Guards began to converge on him, but Chris ignored them, cutting down more and more of the unarmored workers. Sometimes it took several strikes to take them down, unless he aimed for the head, neck, or chest. That probably had to do with the nature of Undead. He hadn¡¯t had this problem when using his axe or mace, but those tended to deal more large-scale damage. It was just good that all the zombie games he¡¯d played had ingrained the importance of headshots. Fighting the dead? Go for the head. More and more of the workers fell before he had to deal with the guards. It was that or be surrounded. He shifted his grip on the bone knight¡¯s spear and launched it into the torso of an approaching guard, then he pulled out his mace. It was just the right tool for the job against armored Undead. He blocked a spear-wielding guard¡¯s strike on his bone shield, then leapt forward and caved in the attacker¡¯s helmet. Then he spun and pushed his body against the bone spear embedded in the torso of the guard he had thrown it at. It knocked the creature fatally off balance as the rim of the bone shield came down on its neck with deadly force. Chris threw out his arm, his mace crumpling the knee of an Undead that had tried to exploit him crouching to finish the impaled guard. It seemed like the Soul Gems were too well defended, so he ran, deflecting strikes from the guards as he body checked his way out of the impending encirclement. A spearhead grazed the muscle of his calf, causing him to stumble, but he kept on going. He heard some of the more dexterity focused guards give chase, but he kept running. Then, once they were a suitable distance away from the rest of the pack, he turned and bashed two more of them down with quick and brutal strikes. The last pursuing Undead guard hesitated and then fled back to the ranks of the other fighters. He smiled at them as they watched him warily, then he flicked jelly-like blood and brain matter from his mace and stowed it back in his belt. The Undead didn¡¯t dare approach, although they still guarded the last few bodies of the Beast Horde monsters that the workers had abandoned. Having a stare down wasn¡¯t particularly productive though, so Chris pulled up the kill quest. Forty Undead down. He¡¯d have to see whether he could break into their town again. Most of his kills had been guards, but the workers were easier targets. Then a thunderous impact resonated through the forest, the trees shook, and a column of light shot into the sky. The column pulsed brighter and brighter, until the air cracked and fractured around it. What was going on? The light seemed to originate from the glade. Had something happened now that the rock trolls were dead? Curious, Chris began running toward it, hoping no one had gotten there before him. He sprinted through the trees, dodging low branches, and vaulting over bushes when something charged into him and bore him to the ground, knocking his shield out of his hands. The thing roared¡ªsurprising Chris to no end, his battles against the Undead had been eerily silent. Snub nosed and bat faced, two dagger-like, bone-white teeth protruded from its mouth. Thick ropes of foul-smelling saliva hung and swayed from the tips, slapping against his face like sticky metronomes. Its claws scratched over his armor, its red-skinned body hanging over him, holding him down. Its head reared back and its jaws spread farther apart. Chris shoved his right arm into the bat demon¡¯s mouth just in time¡ªjust as sharp teeth jabbed down. The teeth sank into his skin. Chris cried out in pain, then the jaws clinked against rock as Stone Form activated and his arm became solid. The bat demon¡¯s mouth opened, then crunched down in surprise again, not quite believing its fleshy prey had turned to rocks in its mouth. Its teeth shattered on the second bite. The bat demon screeched, but Chris slipped his free arm around its neck and flipped it onto its back. He was on top now. The bat demon struggled and scratched at him as it struggled to extricate itself from beneath him, but Chris held firm. He ratcheted back his stony arm and plowed it into the demon¡¯s face. More teeth shattered, but the monster did not die. He punched again, as claws found unguarded skin beneath his breastplate and began slicing out long avenues of flesh full of blood and slime. He jerked away, pushing himself off the demon as it tried to eviscerate him. He stumbled away. Wings, formerly concealed against the demon¡¯s back, snapped open, launching it up and forward. Chris held out his stone arm as it approached, then bitch slapped the monster into a tree. The demon¡¯s jaw shattered with a crack, spraying black blood and shards of bone across the forest floor. It lay there in a daze. Chris ran forward, ignoring the pain and slammed his stone arm into the demon¡¯s head once more. Its skull was strong, but when it broke, it broke like an overripe melon. Its skull exploded in a shower of sticky, black blood¡ªcoating him in oily gore. He picked up his shield, and stared down at the monster. He had his suspicions as to where the demon had come from. He kept an eye out for more demons and began running toward the glade. Chapter 14: Dungeon Chris picked his way through the forest. The number of demons increased the closer he got to the glade. He steered clear of most, but the density of monsters was quickly becoming too high. He reverted his arm and drew his mace. The increased length would give him some much needed leverage¡ªhopefully make bashing in demon skulls a fair bit easier than using his fist. He gave it a twirl, then launched forward into a demon, bringing one strike down on its torso, and another on its head. The demon was stronger than the rock trolls, perhaps a little below the bone knights in power, but it still went down under the loving caress of his mace. The vicious little creature was still moving though, so he gave it another love tap. He brought the mace down on its chest, so as not to get splattered with more demon goo from exploding demon heads¡­ which sounded like the starting premise for a hentai¡­ yeah¡­ better not to think about that¡­ He continued bashing his way through the demons between him and the glade, becoming increasingly soaked in demon blood despite his best efforts. He tested each corpse with his shoulder-mounted Slime to see if they contained Soul Gems, but it seemed that different monsters yielded the precious crystals at different frequencies. At last, he reached the glade. The bat demons were clustered inside, gnawing on the corpses of the rock trolls, hissing at each other when the others got too close. At the center of the forest clearing stood a white obelisk with glowing purple runes scrawled into its side. From its peak, it released the column of light into the sky. The light wasn¡¯t as bright as when it had first appeared, which could indicate that it was at least partially dormant. Around its base flared a sphere of rippling, gasoline-on-water energy that occasionally showed an image to¡­ elsewhere¡­ that Chris couldn¡¯t quite make out. As soon as he saw it, a screen flared to life before his eyes.
Anomaly Detected! Type: Dungeon Class: Demonic New Quests! (Mandatory) Enter the Dungeon (0/1) (Mandatory) Seal the Dungeon (0/1) (Optional) Steal the Dungeon Core (0/1)
Urgh. What the hell? He knew that mandatory quests had to be a thing¡ªwhy else would the System label other quests ¡®optional¡¯¡ªbut he didn¡¯t expect to get one any time soon. This was meant to be a damn tutorial, but the only thing it had taught him was what a headache felt like. Now it was forcing him to complete a quest, whether he liked it or not. Not cool. So not cool. Urgh. He needed to check his Status before he did anything else.
Name Christopher Hill
Level 11
Class None
Race Hybrid: Human (F-1), Slime (F-2)
Cultivation None
Dao None
Traits Human Potential, Monster Hybrid, Monstrous Constitution, Monstrous Assimilation, Amorphous, Stone Form
Titles Genesis of Blood, Prime Underdog, Agent of Self-destruction, Prince of Poison, Makeshift Master, Prodigy, Legendary Prodigy, Unrivalled Prodigy, Horde Disciple I, Xenocidal, Infiltrator
System Coins 4340
(6 Stat Points to Allocate)
Strength 44
Dexterity 57
Constitution 59
Endurance 46
Intelligence 45
Wisdom 42
Perception 41
Luck 63
He hadn¡¯t gained another title, but at least he¡¯d gone up a level, and he was amassing a decent bank of System Coins; so at least there was a silver lining. He could muster up the energy to be enthusiastic as he dropped four points in dexterity and two more in luck.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Maybe next time he¡¯d be lucky enough not to get conscripted to destroy a Dungeon. He knew how Dungeons worked from MMOs, it was unlikely that this one was vastly different. The demons out here were the dross, the trash, the meatshields. They were almost as strong as the bone knights. In brief, he was screwed. If the System wanted to screw him with a mandatory quest that would get him killed, then screw the mandatory quest. He turned and began walking away. He felt a shock run through his body as a pain he had never felt before overwhelmed him; it was worse than getting Georgie Denbrough-ed by the tentacle slug in the laboratory on the planet Xal. Pure prismatic torment lanced through him. His nerves felt as if they had been deepfried and fed to piranhas, piece by piece, then regrown and saut¨¦ed with salt and spice. The pain consumed him utterly. It was only a second before he succumbed to it, capitulated, chose to return to the Dungeon. Anything to stop the pain. It had only been a second, but it was a timeless torment, one that gnawed on perspective and devoured sanity. And then he was back, chest heaving, heart galloping, anxious nerves anticipating a revisitation to that second of hell at any moment. Carefully, he took a step backward, not wanting to move forward a hair¡¯s breadth, lest he trigger the pain again. Then, stumbling to a sprint, he charged past feasting demons. The demons turned to him with hisses and shrieking roars, but Chris was already gone, diving into the gasoline rainbow of the portal without so much as a backward glance. The world spun in nauseating patterns, like a bad acid trip. Chris jammed his eyes shut, but it did nothing to stop the disorientation. Then his feet touched ground and the smell of smoke hit his nostrils. Something clinked on the floor beside him, sounding like glass on stone. He opened his eyes, expecting a hellscape, a bit of fire, a bit of brimstone, maybe a few souls of the damned trapped in eternal suffering. It wasn¡¯t that. Instead there was smooth stone, black rock, and demons cooking meat over a coal campfire that belched out thick, choking soot. He looked down and saw five glass vials filled with red liquid. Were they health potions? They certainly looked like health potions. He bent down and picked them up, piling them into a pocket. Then something hit his back. A demon had followed him through from the glade. It seemed to be suffering the same disorientation as he first had, though. So Chris did the obvious thing. He gasped in panic. Then he brained the demon with two quick swings. More of the oily blood splattered him, much to his displeasure. He gagged as some of it got in his mouth. Then another demon shot through the portal. It met the same fate as its predecessor, except without the exploding head bit. The portal on this side looked weak and pale; pushing against it produced a worrying amount of resistance, and once his hand had sunk a few inches in, it was like pressing against solid steel. There was no give whatsoever. He wasn¡¯t sure if that was due to the obelisk in the glade¡¯s decreased activity, or whether the System just didn¡¯t want him leaving before the job was done. Chris took better stock of his surroundings. He was in some sort of natural cavern that had been expanded, part of the walls had been straightened and the floor underneath flattened to something that wouldn¡¯t trip anyone trying to walk¡ªwith the exception of a few stalagmites that protruded stubbornly from the floor. Did the bat demons even need to walk? He guessed so, their wings seemed more vestigial than something capable of sustained flight¡ªthe only time he¡¯d actually seen them used was to allow that first demon to push itself off the ground. In the corner were piles of crates and boxes stacked high. Chris reevaluated his opinion of what was happening. The demons here, though still the bat faced things he¡¯d seen outside, were nowhere near as bestial. In fact, the materials gathered here seemed to indicate that this place was the result of long planning and preparation. The wide area of the cavern would allow plenty of demons into the cavern all at once, and flood out after the Dungeon opened. If anything, it felt more like a staging area for an invasion. A small-scale invasion, but an invasion all the same. It seemed like the only issue was the demons becoming raving battle-crazed lunatics on the other side. Then again, he¡¯d become a bit of a battle-crazed lunatic as well, and he hadn¡¯t needed a portal. Was that all it took? The promise of real self-improvement and empowerment to excuse killing everything in sight. He wasn¡¯t sure. If it was, it painted an unflattering portrait of him and everyone else, but he doubted that was the full story. If that was the case, then the System wouldn¡¯t have had to resort to torture to prevent people from leaving the area. That reminded him. He wanted to check his quests, see the ones that he still had active. No quest screen appeared. Chapter 15: Staging Chris snuck over to one of the stalagmites, hiding behind it, then he tried his quest screen again. Nothing. Status. Nothing. The System didn¡¯t work here. He still had his strength, his speed, his dashing goodish looks, but no System. Even his mana and Beast Soul Weapon worked, but the screens had just¡­ died. He probably wasn¡¯t even getting levels or System Coins for this. Which was absolute bullshit. And likely the reason such quests were mandatory. Hopefully he¡¯d get some good rewards out of the experience. Maybe a title or two. That thought lifted his spirits as he peeked out from behind the stalagmites. It was strange that the demons by the campfire hadn¡¯t noticed him or the two individuals he¡¯d killed next to the portal. Then he noticed a secondary shimmer in the air, farther away. This part functioned as a beachhead for people invading the Dungeon, preventing them from getting portal camped. Not that the demons looked to be expecting visitors. Their Dungeon had just spilled its occupants out into the world. He moved up to the boundary of the second distortion, ready to charge at any moment. Then he waited. The demons really couldn¡¯t see him. They each had tall square shields nearby¡ªwhich reminded Chris of the kind Roman legionaries used¡ªand broadswords at their waists. He wondered what had happened to the weapons of the demons that went through. Had they been disintegrated? He shrugged, not his problem. He stowed his mace in his belt and summoned the khopesh polearm. Then he charged. He made it halfway to the campfire when they spotted him. The demons scrambled for their shields, bringing them to bear just as Chris reached them. He pulled one¡¯s shield away with the inside edge of his curved blade, then turned his hand and went for a decapitation with the axe-like edge. His finishing blow was stopped by a sword one of the demons had pulled from its sheath¡ªto his surprise, it wasn¡¯t made of iron, bronze, or steel, but a glistening black stone. Chris¡¯ blade bit into the dark stone and blade scarred it deeply, but the enemy¡¯s weapon held. The third demon had used Chris¡¯ attack to circle around and attack from the side. Chris swung his shield around to block the blow, then swung at the other two demons with his weapon to keep them at bay. He charged the third demon with his shield held out and was satisfied to see the spiteful creature go flying away against the impact. He grinned. Divide and conquer. The fallen demon used its wings to lift itself back up and forward, but Chris was ready for the move. He stepped back and swung at the monster, hooking its shield out of its grip. A cut with the inside of his blade severed the tendons of its leg, just as the other two demons stabbed at him with their broadswords. Chris twisted. One point bounced off his armor, but the other reopened the wound he¡¯d sustained back in the forest. He gasped and moved away. But he¡¯d already done the necessary damage. One of the demons was effectively down. He powered between the two remaining demons, using his shield and weapon to separate the two and ward away their swords. Then he turned and lashed back with his foot at the leftmost demon, sending the monster flying backward. The right demon stabbed, but its broadsword was deflected away by the rim of Chris¡¯ shield. Then he vanished his weapon, raised his hand, resummoned it, and stabbed down. His weapon buried itself in the demon¡¯s neck, just as his mana ran out.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. There was one demon left in fighting shape. Now he drew his mace as the final demon came sailing toward him¡ªonly to be smacked back by a blow to its shield. Chris jumped after it, slamming another blow into its shield as it tried to raise itself for a second time. Then he dropped his mace, grabbed the sword in his right hand and ordered his arm to activate Stone Form. The sword became trapped within a cage of stony fingers, while the demon¡¯s shield was pressed firmly against its body. Chris wiggled his shield free, then began to slam its rim into the demon¡¯s bat-like head. Soon the demon fell still. Chris released the sword, picked up the mace and went to finish off the other demons. The one whose throat he had slit was gasping weakly on the ground, while the one with the injured leg was flapping around chaotically, trying to push itself upward, only to fall from its wounded limb. Both went down without much of a fight. He reached into his pocket, remembering the maybe-health-potions. He pulled one out, thinking about where it had come from. He¡¯d received two quests, one to enter the Dungeon, the other to seal it. The potions must be a reward then. Just like how the ¡®Join a Beast Horde¡¯ quest had ¡®rewarded¡¯ him with protection against the other monsters. One easily completable quest to necessarily prepare the quester for a harder one. At least he hoped that was why he¡¯d gotten the potions. The vials seemed to be made of a similar crystal to the Mana Manual and the Soul Gems. He tried drawing the crystal into him. It sunk into his hand, forming a tattoo¡ªjust like the Beast Soul Weapon¡ªthen returned when he tried to retrieve it. Awesome, that would save him from having to worry about broken glass. He removed the crystal stopper, paused and dripped a tiny drop onto his Slime arm. He remembered something from his time in the laboratory, and wanted to test it out. The droplet hung on his arm¡¯s surface, wobbling as the surface tension prevented it from rolling off. He commanded the Slime to consume the droplet. The liquid sank into his skin and he felt wellness spreading from the area. He pressed his right hand across the bottle¡¯s opening and commanded the Slime to drink the rest. A stream of goo entered the bottle and in moments absorbed the potion into itself. Nifty. Compared to the single drop, the entire bottle was far more effective, and just like in the laboratory, the potion began diffusing into the Slime that filled his flesh and veins. His wounds began to itch, closing at a rapid pace. He smiled. Health potion, indeed. He pulled the other four bottles from his pocket, then stored them in his arm one by one, creating four tattoos with dots of red in their center. He began breaking open the crates. Weapons and shields spilled out¡ªmade of the same dark stone. In others there was stored food, but Chris didn¡¯t dare test if it was edible. There were even tents, and posts, and tarpaulin sheets packed in a few. He left most of it where it was. There was little he could actually use. He crept through the room, then continued down a wide corridor. Unlike the staging area, there was no firelight to illuminate the surroundings. Instead, small veins of golden stone exude a faint luminescence that barely dispelled the worst of the darkness. Soon the sound of rushing water greeted his ears. He forged ahead as the sound intensified. He turned the corner, coming to face a stone bridge that spanned a roaring underground river. At its other end was a tower of black stone that stretched upward, ending in a sharp peak¡ªpurple runes like the one he¡¯d seen on the obelisk covered its surface. The cavern continued above it, narrowing into a shaft along which glimmerings of sharp sunlight could be seen. He¡¯d already known that he was underground, but this confirmed it. As he looked on, he saw a small wooden platform descending, suspended by thick rope and packed with demons. It was hard to tell in the dim light, most of them looked like the bat-faced creatures, but some looked more skeletal¡ªgangly and spiderlike. Chris moved forward. The bridge had stone sidings to prevent those walking along it from getting pushed off. At the closest side, a stone gargoyle had been carved on top of each siding. He smirked, remembering the rock trolls. ¡°Yeah, no way I¡¯m falling for that.¡± He walked up to the first gargoyle and whacked it with his mace. The gargoyle crumbled into gravel at the blow and dark smoke rose from the broken rock. Chris turned to the next one. It hadn¡¯t moved. He grinned, put down his bone shield and held the mace like a baseball bat. He tapped his foot against the bridge, watching the gargoyle intently. The moment his shoes touched the masonry, the gargoyle twitched almost imperceptibly, its eyes moving ever so slightly, then more as it saw a grinning human, poised with a weapon. Chris swung for a home run, sending shards of gravel and bursts of black smoke flying into the river. Chapter 16: Demoniac Legion Chris ran up to the tower, there were no windows at the lower level, but there was a door at its base. He pressed his ear to the door, and immediately heard multiple conversations in a language he didn¡¯t understand. There were definitely more than three demons in there. Entering through the front door would be a death sentence. He edged around the tower, mace in hand. He peered around the corner, then threw himself backward. There was a field of smooth stone beyond the tower, populated with hundreds of the bat demons. Unlike the ones he¡¯d seen in the forest, these ones were like those at the campfire¡ªwell armed, carrying wooden shields and black, stone broadswords. Some of them, the officers, also wore armor made of scales of that same dark, glistening stone. Worst of all, there was a patrol of three demons approaching. The river was loud, but it wasn¡¯t loud enough to completely override the noise of a protracted battle. He could take three demons, but they might flee to their fellow soldiers if they found themselves on the losing side of the fight. Chris simply wasn¡¯t good enough to take on three demons all at once and also keep them from running. His stats were high, yes, but he lacked the prerequisite skill at arms. The door wasn¡¯t an option either. He¡¯d be slaughtered the minute he waltzed in. The river might be a decent place to hide. But it looked dangerously fast and it would only solve the immediate problem. It was an option, but maybe there were more. He looked up the tower, seeing windows high above, the glass was dark and had a purple cast from the reflected light of the purple etched into the side of the tower. The runes extended from base to peak and Chris ran his fingers along them. They looked deep enough to serve as fingerholds, but his shoes were too thick to be much help in climbing. He cursed and pulled off his boots, tossing them into the river, where they were ripped away by the rapid current. There wasn¡¯t much time before the patrol arrived. He had to climb. Fast. He stuffed his mace into his rope belt, then looked at his bone shield and cursed. He untied the belt, and threaded it through the straps and handle of the shield. All secure. But now he felt like an idiot for tossing his shoes when he could have simply tied them to his belt. No time. Chris jumped, higher than he thought possible. His fingers scrabbled for purchase. He found it at the height of his leap. Then gravity took hold and he was left hanging from the wall by his fingertips. He swore at the absent System under his breath. He so did not sign up for this shit. His feet bicycled frantically against the wall. One finger slipped, then another. He could feel the sweat already seeping from his fingertips. That wasn¡¯t good. His bare toes suddenly stubbed themselves into a crevice created by one of the glowing symbols. Chris pushed upward, fighting back a wince, and strained for a better fingerhold. He found it. He scrambled upward, taking way too many liberties with his welfare¡ªenough to give any health and safety officer a panic attack. His palms were drenched with sweat now. He looked down. The demon patrol had turned the corner. Thankfully they weren¡¯t looking up. Sweat beaded on his forehead and began to trickle down. Worse still, his fingerholds were becoming increasingly slippery¡ªwhich only made him sweat more.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. At this rate, he¡¯d be like a raincloud by the time the demons were below him. There weren¡¯t any clouds underground. If he dripped on them, they would notice him for sure. He shifted his weight, then brushed his forehead with his left arm. Wait. The Slime could absorb liquids, right? He switched hands and began hoovering up the worst areas of sweat. Then he cleaned out the handholds so that he wasn¡¯t clutching on to slick stone. He looked down again. The patrol was beneath him. Then they passed him by without a glance and pushed the door open and entered the tower. Chris breathed a sigh of relief, both at not being spotted, and at not going inside. He continued climbing, settling into a rhythm, grateful that his Endurance would prevent him from getting tired so easily. A window was nearby and he angled toward it. There was one problem. The runes didn¡¯t fully extend to that area. There was no way to reach it. He clung to the tower, thinking. His fingers and toes were the only thing keeping him away from the hard ground. He could jump? No, too risky. The mind was willing, but right now the flesh felt weak, all too weak¡ªespecially his knees. He shook his head, then stretched out to resume climbing. He stopped mid-reach. There might be a way to do this. His arm morphed into the Slime and began dissolving part of the wall¡ªone of the parts without the symbols on it. The stone bubbled and stewed, disgorging foul, choking fumes. Chris held on though as the Slime carved out a wider and deeper handhold. He fit his hand in and formed a fist, feeling an unfamiliar fatigue wash over him from having to dissolve the stone. He hadn¡¯t had that problem with flesh, then again, the Slime ate flesh, not stone. No such thing as a free lunch, he supposed, unless you were eating dead people. When he formed a fist, the shape of his hand changed to fit the grooves he had made in the stone. Then he activated Stone Form and tugged. His arm was held fast. There was no yield whatsoever. Chris grinned, then looked down. No one below. He summoned his weapon. Using his jammed arm to brace, he quickly sliced some grooves over toward the window. The stone parted with a nasty grating sound, but no one from below came to look. It didn¡¯t look like there was any movement by the window either. He deepened the grooves, then dismissed the weapon before his mana ran out. Once his handholds had been created, he turned his right arm back to flesh, skin, and bone, then shimmied over to the window. He looked inside. The room was mostly dark, except for a few orbs made of the same golden stone he¡¯d seen lining the walls of the tunnel. The room had a bed inside, with a low table and nothing else but a few books lying around. At the far end of the room sat a squat door with a bolted lock set just below the handle. With one hand, Chris pulled out his mace and pressed it against his body. He shimmied closer to the window, leaned away so that his body was perpendicular to the wall, then he rotated his body back inward. The mace hit the window first, punching a hole in it and spreading a rippling shatter pattern throughout. His body followed, pushing most of the loosened glass inside. The shards tinkled against the floor of the room, but no one was inside to hear. With his mace hand, he shoved more of the glass inside, not wanting any to fall and alert the demons to his presence when another patrol came around. He brushed the remaining fragments from his front, then cleared some more glass at the edges of the window. He crawled inside, dropping his mace and grabbing his bone shield to prevent it from dislodging stray shards. He was in. He cleared the rest of the window from the inside and brushed the broken glass into the corner. He moved to the door and turned the handle. He tested the door, it wasn¡¯t locked. He opened it, poking his head outside, and saw a large room filled with mostly empty bunks stacked on top of one another. A few demons were snoring on top, but none of them noticed him. At the center was an exposed staircase that circled upward to the next floor. Seeing all he needed to see, Chris gently closed the door and eased the bolt home. He was probably in some officer¡¯s quarters, and this room, maybe the entire floor of the tower, was a barracks. He walked back and collapsed on the bed. The frame let out a disgruntled creak beneath him, and the mattress felt like it was filled with straw, but it was good enough. The climb, and especially dissolving the stone, had been exhausting. He needed a break. Chapter 17: Barrier He rose from the bed after fifteen minutes, more composed than he had been. He needed to decide. Did he want to continue climbing, or take the stairs instead? He looked outside and closed the door again. The demons were still there, at least six that he could see. If he woke them, he was dead. He crept out, straddled the nearest demon, then slashed its throat with his weapon and his other hand pressed over its mouth. There was a faint hiss of expelled air between his fingers, the demon tried to unfurl its wings, but was blocked by Chris¡¯ body. Then it sank back, dead. Chris had his Slime mop up the spilled blood, both on the straw mattress and around the demon¡¯s throat. He laid it to one side on the floor and flipped the mattress so there was no sign of a struggle. He pressed his arm back around the dead demon¡¯s throat, letting the Slime simultaneously staunch and absorb the blood. He carried the monster into the demon officer¡¯s room and, after bolting the door, let his Slime feed on the body. It was hungry after dissolving all the stone, and only the demon¡¯s legs remained once it was done. Chris couldn¡¯t help but wonder where all the extra mass went. Then, grumbling to himself, he crawled back out the window. He hated having to climb farther. The heights were already bad enough, and would only get more dizzying as he went. A fall might mean certain death if he continued, even with his improved constitution. Still, it was the better of two bad options. At least he knew he could climb the tower¡¯s outside; it was just his nerves that would get in his way. He couldn¡¯t guarantee that every floor he entered would be like the barracks, much less that the next floor¡¯s occupants would even be asleep. Gritting his teeth, he ascended, the ground falling away beneath him.
He passed several more windows before he saw the first recessed balcony. He was tempted to check it out, but opted not to do so. Instead, he kept on going until he¡¯d almost reached the tower¡¯s top. He didn¡¯t want to go any higher. He might be spotted from the elevator that led to the surface if he was unlucky. Better not to risk it. The climb was easier now, the tower¡¯s walls had begun curving inward, so the ascent became far less precarious. There was another of the recessed balconies, and this time he decided to go for it. It wouldn¡¯t even require cutting into the stone to reach. The tower was sloped enough to allow proper traction. He jumped, his armor ringing against the stone as his fingers seized the ledge and he pulled himself up. There was no glass here, the balcony opened out to a large room with a high, slanted ceiling that must be the inside portion of the tower¡¯s peak. He was on the final floor! Chris looked around, at the center of the room was a white obelisk with purple runes, just like the one he¡¯d seen in the clearing¡ªexcept it was several times larger, and instead of the shimmering field at its bottom, the obelisk tapered down like the waist of an hourglass before widening again as it reached the floor. At the meeting place of the two tapered points sat a small multifaceted-crystal. Why the hell did the System like crystals so much? Either way, the crystal must be the Dungeon Core that was the optional portion of the quest. Depriving the obelisk of its core would seal the Dungeon. If it didn¡¯t, then he was all out of good guesses. He supposed he had several options, steal it, smash it, or remove it. It had to be what was creating the Dungeon in the first place. Why else would it be called a Dungeon Core? And there was something else, he could feel the Slime in his arm vibrating, just as it did when it sensed something it wanted to absorb. Best to get whatever that was first, he didn¡¯t know how long the Dungeon would be around once he took the Core. He held his arm out and followed it to a series of tables with flowers and stones on it. Most of them the Slime was disinterested in, but it snapped up some of it after a moment¡¯s hesitation. That didn¡¯t seem to be what his arm was interested in, though. The moment it came near to a small flower with white pollen and golden petals, it was fixated. His arm ignored everything else as it homed in on the flower. Chris obliged and brought it closer, rolling his eyes. The Slime stretched farther then he¡¯d ever seen it reach, then enveloped the flower into its slimy, roiling bulk, before reverting back to a normal flesh and blood arm. He could still feel its satisfaction though. He could also feel something changing, as if the flower had become fireflies within his veins.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. It didn¡¯t seem to be doing anything bad, though, so he let it be. Time to get that damn Core and get the hell out of dodge. He approached the Core, arm outstretched¡ªhis non-Slime arm, he didn¡¯t trust the other one not to eat the crystal as soon as it came in range. A shape moved out of the corner of his eye, at the far end of the room. A hatch in the ground he hadn¡¯t noticed raised and a robed and hooded figure appeared from below, carrying something. It spotted him. Chris reached for the Core. The figure was quicker. Its hand shot out, and a glowing green barrier enveloped the lower half of the obelisk, throwing Chris away and encasing the crystal at the obelisk¡¯s center in protective power. Magic! Chris heard glass shatter as whatever the robed creature had been carrying smashed below it. The obelisk flickered; the light of the purple symbols carved into its side began to die. A screen started to manifest before his eyes, hazy and indistinct. The creature pulled itself up, revealing its body. It had six limbs¡ªfour arms and two legs. The robe extended down to its knees, where it cut away, revealing knobbled knees, thin, gangly legs, and sunset-red skin. The demon threw back its hood¡ªexposing a hairless, humanoid head, crowned with curling black horns. It waved all four of its arms and chanted slowly and precisely. The green barrier wavered, then reformed. The purple runes along the obelisk¡¯s surface flared back to life. The demon staggered after casting the spell, then straightened, brushing its robes. Chris saw the screens fade again. The obelisk was suppressing the System! He picked himself up from where the barrier had thrown him, then ran behind the obelisk, putting the barrier between him and the sorcerer demon. He was still in a state of shock. He¡¯d low-key known that magic was real, but being on the receiving end of a spell really brought it home. He was so screwed. He cursed the System again as he fumbled at his rope belt, releasing his mace and shield. He brought them into his hands and began slamming the weapon into the barrier. Given how the demon mage had gone to great lengths to keep the obelisk functional, it was definitely important to the creature. It had clearly drained a lot of its power to allow the effect to continue through the shield. Chris¡¯ goal was to exploit the mage¡¯s wish to protect the Dungeon Core at all costs. He continued bashing at the green barrier, watching as it flickered around each strike before refocusing. The demon mage growled and jogged around for a better angle. Chris moved with the demon, always keeping the obelisk between him and the angry wizard trying to kill him. He was quicker and had a smaller distance to move. He kept on hitting at the barrier, watching cracks start to appear. The mage began casting again, the barrier became enshrouded in writhing blue worms of electricity. Chris wasn¡¯t able to hold back his strike in time and was blasted backward as his limbs seized. He smelled burning, like that time as a small kid when he¡¯d tried to poke the ¡®fairies¡¯ on the other end of the electrical socket with a paperclip. He lay there, groaning in pain as he convulsed. That wasn¡¯t fun. As he regained control of his spasming muscles, the mage moved around and gestured. A bolt of black power shot toward him and he rolled away. Chris wasn¡¯t fast enough. It hit the side of his armor and while most of it splashed against the floor, a blot of corroding darkness began to spread over his armor. Chris stood and ran back to the barrier as the demon mage began casting again. Another dark bolt shot at him but he made it behind the barrier in time. He paused for a moment, wondering what to do. He hit the barrier with his shield. An electric shock still travelled through his arm, but it was weaker than Coors Light, he also thought it was about as refreshing. His mace was metal all the way through, it conducted the electricity perfectly into his body. The shield was pure bone, and dry to boot. He still felt a shock, like touching a metal railing on a sunny day, but it was nothing compared to the unbottled thunderstorm of his previous contact. The edge of his shield, however, began to blacken and flake as he whaled on the barrier. It was starting to falter now, the cracks widening with every blow¡ªno longer refocusing at all. His bone shield was in bad shape too. Chunks of charred bone dropped from it with every strike and the shocks intensified as there was less shield to resist the massive surges of power from the barrier. With a shout of outrage, the demon mage drew three curving daggers from its robe and charged. Chris ignored it. He was faster than the demon. He continued to circle the barrier as it chased him around futilely. Whenever he¡¯d put enough distance between them both, he paused to strike the barrier. The electricity was fading with the barrier, Chris could see it only had a few strikes left. But he was injured from his first shock and the corrosive darkness on his armor had finally eaten through the metal and now attacked his tissues. He didn¡¯t want to risk the barrier going down, only to get a faceful of deadly darkness. It was better to heal up rather than trying to penny-pinch potions. Still running, he transferred his mace to his shield hand, retrieved a potion from its tattoo, then let the Slime consume it. He felt his aches diminish as the potion rushed through his veins. It didn¡¯t stop the darkness clinging to his side, but, just like the barrier, that spell was weakening too. He adjusted the arm straps of his shield, so that he only connected to it by the grip. He had a cunning plan he wanted to carry out. The barrier was a wan green now, no longer vibrant and powerful. And the tiny threads of lightning looked as potent as those from a Van de Graaff generator. Keeping his shield free, he slammed his mace into the fading green barrier. It was time to end this. Chapter 18: Surpasser The barrier shattered into shards of magic, and Chris discovered the demon mage had been waiting for him. Light burst from the demon¡¯s three daggers, revealing them to be some kind of concealed magic wands. The light converged, gathering into a spell in front of it. Chris hadn¡¯t been expecting that, but he had planned on chucking his shield at the demon anyway, and did so. Rather than his initial plan of hitting the mage in the face, the shield was instead aimed at the coalescence of energy, passing through it and hammering into the mage¡¯s chest. The daggers in the mage¡¯s hand warped and melted, as if seized within the jaws of a living volcano. Even as the demon was borne backward by the shield plowing into its chest, the building light expanded. Chris¡¯ eyes widened. That didn¡¯t look good. Rather than continue forward to whack the demon, he scooped up the Dungeon Core and ducked behind the obelisk. Light blazed and the unstable energy detonated, bathing the room in light and sound. The upper segment of the obelisk began to topple, the symbols along its length fading. The System screens Chris was already so familiar with began to dance across his vision. But he didn¡¯t have time. Clutching onto the Dungeon Core, he stumbled backward as the top of the obelisk collapsed. The tower¡¯s floor, destabilized by the arcane rebound, heaved and groaned as the obelisk hit it. For a moment it held, then the stone buckled beneath the weight and everything went crashing down. Chris stared as the wave of collapse came for him. Ahead he saw the first spherical glimmerings of the portal appear. He leapt, thinking the rift wouldn¡¯t manifest in time, but just as he began to fly past the focal point, the shimmering sphere snapped into reality around him. The world blurred once more, bringing with it the acid trip disorientation of portal travel. He flew forward and his face carved a ditch into the grassy glade. Behind him, he heard the smaller, matching obelisk crumble to the ground, as his mouth filled with grass and dirt. He sat up, spitting and spluttering, feeling as if he¡¯d removed half the glade from his mouth. He blinked and brushed a stubborn spot of mud out of his left eye and looked around smiling. His smile faded. Dozens of demons stared at him with hateful and accusatory eyes. The ones on this side of the portal were too dumb to know what he did, just that he did something. They straightened and stretched, like stalking lions, fangs bared. ¡°Oh shit,¡± Chris muttered. He pressed himself to his bare feet and began sprinting out of the glade at full tilt.
The demons sprinted behind him, but Chris was just out of their reach. He pumped his arms furiously as they howled and hissed and roared their frustration. Then, his goal in sight, he accelerated, putting more distance between them. He heaved his mace into a large tree, letting it topple forward. Where? Onto the wall of the Undead town, of course. Archers loosed arrows at him and two feather shafts flew into the gap where the demon mage¡¯s darkness had ruined his armor. Thankfully they rattled around inside, cutting into his torso but not piercing anything vital or deep. Chris spat but jumped up onto the tree and began running up toward the walls. The archers suddenly stopped firing as they spotted the howling horde of demons behind him. Chris smiled in satisfaction and stepped onto the ramparts. ¡°Oh shit,¡± he echoed their thought-processes mockingly. He ignored the dumbstruck archers and guards and jumped off the wall into the city. The impact was a little harder on him than his last leap from the same battlements, since the ground on this side was paved rather than spongy. However, it wasn¡¯t as bad as he expected; he must have gotten stronger. An arrow broke on the paving stones next to him, one archer¡¯s feeble attempt at hitting him, but Chris kept on running. He was all too aware of the demons at his back. Then he turned down an alley, vaulted up a wall, onto the thatched rooves, and was home free. He laughed, then lay down in the thatch, out of sight of the demons, except those on the wall; they seemed pretty bestial, so it was a good bet that like dogs, they lacked object permanence¡ªas soon as they hit the streets where their vision would be blocked, they would forget about him. Until then he would watch the show as they rampaged through the Undead on the walls, coming up against no real resistance. ¡°GG. EZ. No re.¡± He checked through his quests first.
Quests Completed! (Mandatory) Enter the Dungeon (1/1) Reward: F-1 Health Potion x5If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. (Mandatory) Seal the Dungeon (1/1) Reward: 10,000 System Coins, Experience Boost, Title: Anomaly Breaker I, Pill of Pure Body (Human, F-1) (Optional) Steal the Dungeon Core (1/1) Choose your Reward (Dungeon Core will be consumed): Random Reward x5, or Settlement Core
Woo! Sweet loot. Although he¡¯d already gotten the five health potions. He checked his Status. He¡¯d leveled up to Level 16. After a moment¡¯s thought, he put five points each into dexterity, strength, and luck. His stats were already well rounded and boosted way above normal, even before he received his new complement of titles. Just by dint of sheer bullshit he already had a ¡®well-rounded-build¡¯¡ªwhich was a byword for ¡®fucking haxx¡¯ back on the diginet. Luck was already his highest stat, so he figured that it might be worth piling even more points into it and see how things panned out. He imagined it was one of those stats that people added a few points to every once in a while, but never really invested in due to the demands of their builds¡ªand those who did, died because they were too lucky and too weak for their own good. Getting a monster haul of treasure was only good luck until you brought it into a town full of people who were too strong for the law to apply. He also noticed that his System Coins total hadn''t budged while he''d been inside the Dungeon, but at least he''d got monetary compensation to make up for it. He checked the three new titles he¡¯d acquired. Anomaly Breaker I: Clear [1] Anomaly. +2 to all stats. +1% to all stats. Rift Scion: The first in your cohort to overcome an Anomaly. +5 to all stats. +3% to all stats. Surpasser: Clear an Anomaly you have little hope of defeating. +5 to all stats. +3% to all stats. He swore a little when he saw the last title. What the hell? Had the System literally just sent him in there, closed its eyes, and left him to die, with only the faint hope that he might overcome it? That was like tossing a cat into a lake of poison, and expecting it to develop poison immunity. At least he got a title out of it. Although it felt like it had been handed out in a ¡®You survived! Here, have a sticker¡¯ kind of way. Complaining under his breath, he brought up his Status.
Name Christopher Hill
Level 16
Class None
Race Hybrid: Human (F-1), Slime (F-2)
Cultivation None
Dao None
Traits Human Potential, Monster Hybrid, Monstrous Constitution, Monstrous Assimilation, Amorphous, Stone Form
Titles Genesis of Blood, Prime Underdog, Agent of Self-destruction, Prince of Poison, Makeshift Master, Prodigy, Legendary Prodigy, Unrivalled Prodigy, Horde Disciple I, Xenocidal, Infiltrator, Anomaly Breaker I, Rift Scion, Surpasser
System Coins 14340
Strength 67
Dexterity 81
Constitution 78
Endurance 64
Intelligence 62
Wisdom 59
Perception 58
Luck 88
He looked over everything. He was starting to venture into the realm of the absurd with his stats. And even then, with all of that, he hadn¡¯t been expected to clear the Anomaly. He pulled up his first tangible reward, the Pill of Pure Body. He hadn¡¯t failed to notice that the Slime portion of his race had raised to F-2. He¡¯d have to figure out what that meant. But he was willing to bet that that pill would do the same to the Human part of his race. The body pill was an unblemished white capsule that sent warmth travelling through the fingers he pinched it in. A soft white light pulsed from its surface, wiping away the blood and grime that caked his hands. Chris ignored his mother¡¯s warnings about taking pills given to him by strangers. He popped it in his mouth and swallowed. Then he coughed. His stomach gurgled horribly. He curled up as something rose through his throat. From his mouth poured a stream of noxious black liquid, it seeped down the thatched roof, and dripped onto the alley below. He heard the shriek of a demon¡ªlikely as it got drenched in the foul ooze that dribbled from between his lips. Just like when the Slime had pushed his blood out through his pores, now black liquid streamed over his skin, adding to the torrent that poured onto the shocked demon in the alley. Chris lay there, shivering in a fetal position as the last waves of evil-smelling goop exited his body. He gagged as he spat out the taste of bile and rancid garbage. The smell of it stuck to him, like the haze of sewage and sweat and sin; but, as he drew in a breath, he could suddenly taste the air. It was cleaner, fresher, more rich and vibrant. He could have sworn the world looked¡­ not brighter¡­ more colorful, as if his eyes were suddenly truly seeing for the first time. He thought back through some of his memories and it was like he had been living within a veil of haze. That haze had been stripped away, replaced with clean air and strong beats of his heart within his chest. He checked his race, and saw that his rank as an F-1 Human, had finally caught up with his Slime half at F-2. He didn¡¯t exactly know what that meant, though. He had more pressing concerns. He really needed to wash the foul liquid off him. The newfound clarity to his senses only exacerbated the pure offensiveness of the smell. Then he remembered. Couldn¡¯t his Slime absorb liquids? He held his arm over his skin. ¡°Come on, little buddy, clean it up.¡± The Slime balked, and Chris could have sworn it was side-eying him as he said the words. He pushed it against a particularly foul and egregious puddle. ¡°I¡¯ll get you a demon or an Undead?¡± he wheedled. ¡°I promise it doesn¡¯t taste so bad after the first mouthful.¡± His arm recoiled, and Chris sighed. Well, drat. He hadn¡¯t even seen a water source yet¡ªit was just as well he got nutrients from his Slime absorbing stuff. Walking around smelling like this was going to suck. As the sun set over the horizon, he stared at his last completed quest. He had to make a choice. Hesitantly, he selected his last reward: Settlement Core. Chapter 19: Nathak The Dungeon Core in Chris¡¯ hand pulsed, its many faces and facets rearranged and reoriented themselves in his palm like a crystal Rubik¡¯s Cube. Light welled up from deep within to encompass the Core, binding it in a sheath of radiance. The Core hummed and whirred, then began to levitate. It pulsed softly in the air, flashed once, then fell back into his hand¡ªthe size of a small marble, and with a greenish tint. Then it sank into his skin, unbidden, leaving behind a tattoo of a small castle. Chris tried to resummon the tattoo, but felt his efforts blocked, as if the conditions for its re-emergence hadn¡¯t been met. He waved the hand about, wrist flapping, but it remained in place. Sighing, he stood and looked down at the town from the roof. It was time to get to work.
The demons rampaged through the Undead town and it was only the lack of organization of their opponents that prevented the shambling Enlightened from being overrun entirely. They gathered in the town center, the few remaining warriors protecting the workers from the roving demons, fending off individual monsters with their spears. Numbers and organization that kept the demons at bay, but as the sky darkened and the shadows lengthened, a new shadow found itself in their midst. For the second night, a shadow slipped among the sleepless, steel flashing silver in the fading light. The shadow struck and the risen dead fell for a final time. The warriors at the edges, the warriors who held the demons at bay, turned too late. The workers fell in spite of them, in spite of their protection, and in a silence only their fellow Undead could hear. And as the warriors turned, the demons fell upon them and thus the town of Nathak¡ªa name the shadow had seen, but never bothered to learn¡ªended. No great deeds, no undying love, no tales for bed-time stories or history books¡ªjust shadows and demons in the evening. And maybe it was the season; the place; the manner; the method; maybe even just a trick of the twilight, a vagary of shade, but the two were more similar than they seemed.
Chris stood panting around the bodies. Demons still circulated through the town, but those in its center had been vanquished. Corpses were piled high, and the way the bodies fell told a story. In all honesty, it looked like the site of a massacre, and it might indeed have been, if the bodies were not already dead, and instead found themselves reverted to their natural state. He stripped off his ruined breastplate and replaced it with one from a downed warrior. The Undead had died in blood and silence, and some of that silence had stuck with him. Tired though he was, he needed to clear his head. He swung his mace and went in search for some more demons to kill. He found the first crouched in an alley, the brains of an Undead dripping from between its claws. Chris snickered. Ironic. The demon howled toward him, but a mace strike silenced it. The monster¡¯s head exploded, coating him in black blood. Chris didn¡¯t mind so much anymore, the black tar-like substance that coated from him when he consumed the body pill was far worse. He flowed like oil from street to street, house to unused house. Throughout the Undead town, demons hunched like vultures over their victims. They were all put down, their cries of pain and fury too short to really abate the memory of silence that sat around the town. Demons died, as they were meant to, and Chris was an odd reaper. No scythe, no cloak of shadows, no lantern to guide the dead¡ªnot even any shoes¡ªjust a mace and an arm to swing it. It was all he needed. The tension of the Dungeon had been draining. He¡¯d only killed four demons¡ªsix, if you counted the first two¡ªall while fearing for his life. In the Undead town, that tension found an outlet and an already dead town found itself burdened with more bodies. And the Undead town was quiet, empty.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. Chris strode through the Undead town, the only living thing inside, satisfied with the carnage he had wrought. He ducked into several houses before coming out with a new set of shoes on his feet¡ªsure, his Constitution would protect him from most things on the ground, but it still wasn¡¯t comfortable. He pulled up his quests and checked his progress, then he handed in his Undead killing quest.
Quests Completed! (Optional ¨C Monster) Conquer Tutorial Town #409008 (Nathak) (1/1) Reward: 5,000 System Coins, Rank F-1 Building Token, Right to Tutorial Town #409008 (Nathak) (Optional ¨C Monster/Human ¨C Variable Reward) Defeat Enlightened (Undead) (220/X) Reward: Rank F-2 Skill Token x2
Right to the town? Sweet! There was a tug on his being as he felt himself drawn to a nearby building¡ªsmall and unobtrusive. He moved to open the door, but it unlocked the moment before his palm touched the surface. The doors swung open, revealing an empty interior, except for a pedestal at the center. He looked around, as he did, he realized this was the only building that wasn¡¯t in disrepair. Its walls looked solid and sturdy. The roof was thatch, but seemed stable and tightly packed. Not a speck of dust lay inside, in stark contrast to the rest of the town. The pedestal was cold and smooth when he touched it and a screen appeared in front of him.
Take control of Nathak?
Yes!
Align Nathak with Race: Human; Slime; or both?
Chris paused. If he selected Human, would he be kicked out of his own town? If he was, he could just reconquer it. But what if he selected both? Would he get more options? It was tempting. If only the tutorial was more helpful, he could have made an informed decision, instead he was fumbling around in the dark. Tentatively, he selected both options.
Change the name of Nathak?
Chris smiled. Kingscastle. More screens popped up in front of him, he scrolled through, and saw options to sell the contents of the town, buy new buildings, and so much more. He rubbed his chin, then opened the new buildings list. Many of the options were grayed out. In fact, almost all the options were grayed out. They were arranged by rank, starting from F-1, ascending first by number, up to F-9, then proceeding alphabetically, to E-0, and repeating all the way up to S-9. He couldn¡¯t afford any of the higher ranked ones, and there were a large number of buildings with appellation and prefixes he didn¡¯t even understand. They had lists of requirements next to them, ranging from simple coin to absurd feats, and prerequisites, up to and including utterly eradicating an enemy race. The only ones that were actually available were the basic Slime buildings, the System buildings, and buildings with the ¡®Tutorial¡¯ prefix. The higher ranked ones were all prohibitively expensive, but the lower options only verged on unreasonable. Some of the Tutorial buildings were free, though. Chris closed down the window, then flicked back to the option to sell the town¡¯s contents. There were walls and buildings galore to sell, even roads, but most of the buildings were in a grievous state of disrepair, so much so that each would sell for several dozen, to one or two hundred System Coins each. At the bottom were prices for various corpses, as well as the four remaining bone knights, which turned out to be called Ossian Juggernauts. The latter turned out to be worth several thousand each. The Undead corpses weren¡¯t priced so highly, due to most missing their heads¡ªthank to Chris¡¯ mace¡ªbut the demons seemed to be in demand, at two hundred per corpse, regardless of condition. He selected all the corpses and internal buildings, then clicked ¡®Sell¡¯, only to find the button was grayed out. This was getting very tiring. What did he need? He clicked over to the buildings tab and bought a rank F-1 System Settlement Shop for 3000 Coins, then switched back to the sell menu as the pedestal in front of him shone for a moment. The button was now green, and all of his selections had been unselected. Seriously? Not only had the System made him pay to sell to his spoils, it was going to make him select everything all over again. ¡°Unbe-fucking-lievable.¡± After a few more more minutes, he selected and sold his items, then checked his balance. Chris¡¯ eyes went wide. Chapter 20: Shopping ¡°Eighty-eight and a half thousand,¡± he whispered. That was a lot of cash. He stepped away from the pedestal and poked his head outside. Nothing remained of the town of Nathak, now called Kingscastle. Roads and paving cut through a massive sea of mud, all enclosed by the familiar walls. Now that it wasn¡¯t filled with a winding maze of buildings, the town seemed a lot smaller. He returned to the pedestal and sold the rest of the walls and roads, bringing him up to just over a hundred thousand System Coins. He wouldn¡¯t need all of the space, and he¡¯d seen a cool option when scrolling through the buildings list. He selected the building, mind wandering. Why hadn¡¯t the Undead done this, and why had there been so few of them? The town could fit a few thousand of the Undead, yet there¡¯d only been about three hundred in total. What¡¯s more, they had no need of the buildings¡ªthey had rested in the town center. Why had they kept them? It was just another mystery, and Chris doubted he¡¯d find answers. He shrugged and walked outside the building, as instructed to by a screen. The walls were gone, and he stood next to the small thatched house, an island in a square kilometer sea of churned dirt. The house disappeared, leaving the pedestal standing alone in the field, then piles of stone rose from the earth, stacking themselves on top of each other until they formed a small keep with battlements and a steeply pitched tile roof topping it off. A section of the wall in front of him disappeared, and a thick wooden door sprang up in its center. Chris entered the much reduced town of Kingscastle, looking around. The area was relatively spacious, with enough space for a bed, table, and a few other amenities. A roaring, woodless fireplace sat at the far end of the room, and a small spiral staircase hugged the corner of the room, reaching the next floor. Not seeing the pedestal, he ascended. The next floor was bare and surfaced with wood, except for a small stone stage set around another fireplace, so he continued up. The staircase ended in a small ladder with a bolted wooden hatch in the ceiling, he pushed it aside and climbed up to the roof of the keep. A steep, tiled roof to protect against the worst of the elements covered the tower, supported by thick wooden beams beside the crenellations that ringed the top of the keep. There were small murder holes, for archers to shoot down from above and drop boiling hot chocolate, or whatever it was medieval defenders did; and at each of the four cardinal directions, inset into the crenellations like computer terminals were the pedestals he was looking for. The F-1 keep upgrade for the tutorial town had been expensive at 20,000 System Coins, but it gave him better defensive options and was pre-requisite to some of the higher leveled, complex defensive fortifications. Then he began buying other buildings and vendors. A wall began to form around the keep¡ªthe tower a bullseye in the center¡ªfar smaller than the one that had surrounded the former town. Inside buildings began to take shape, roof tiles clicking together like fish scales on top of the buildings, punctured by the occasional chimney. He saw one of the Slime buildings, but blanched at its price tag of 30,000 System Coins. Then he remembered the Building Token he¡¯d received as a reward, he quickly applied it and watched what looked like a massive iron cauldron take shape. Finally, he bought some of the free tutorial buildings and closed down the building menu¡ª88,000 System Coins poorer, including the initial keep upgrade.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. He moved on to a menu called ¡®Spawning¡¯ and opened it. There were two sliders on the screen next to the words ¡®Slime¡¯ and ¡®Human¡¯, both were set to zero. There wasn¡¯t any explanation, but he guessed this was how people got transported over to the tutorial zone. He hesitated over allowing spawning for Humans, then thought better of it. His settlement, Kingscastle, was still in a formative stage¡ªadding people would complicate the affair. He closed out the window, then descended the stairs to peruse through his new buldings. The first building he visited was the System offered Defender¡¯s Barracks. It would spawn System generated warriors who would guard the settlement. It had been one of the buildings that required the keep upgrade. The building was simple and squat, containing eight empty beds, lined up in neat rows. When he pressed his hand against the frames, he saw a countdown timer for each of them. Three days. It was a bit of a wait, but hopefully it would be worth it. He moved onto the next buildings: an Infirmary, which accelerated healing inside it; four Vendors for General Supplies, Skills, Armor, and Weapons; and finally a Slime provided building called a Spawning Vat¡ªthe cauldron-like building he had seen earlier. Chris was particularly interested in the last of these. Since Slimes were monsters, their options for settlements were different. Monster settlements were geared toward empowering monsters or creating more of them, helping to pump out enemies that were more powerful or more numerous¡ªalthough he didn¡¯t know how they managed to pay for the buildings. Maybe they got them for free, or through quests. The Spawning Vat was an iron tank full of goo that would pump out Slimes from a spigot-like vent at regular intervals; but rather than sending them out to rampage among the Enlightened, Chris had the System build a pit trap in front of the spigot instead¡ªwith slippery surfaces to prevent climbing of course. He could already see the first Slime dripping from the spigot; it was a small thing, maybe the size of a basketball, with a stone in the middle¡ªthe size of a golf ball. It fell with a splattering squelch into the pit, where it began to blob lazily around the bottom, trying and failing to scale the sides. Another Slime began to drip from the Spawning Vat, taking another minute to emerge. He smiled as he saw it fall, the Spawning Vat would make a good farm, if nothing else¡ªand the building token meant he got it for free. Content, he went over to the Skill Vendor. It was a building packed with luminous crystals in baskets. There was a desk near the entrance and a short, bald human man with blue eyes and a black beard that choked the lower half of his face in a thicket of scraggly black wires. ¡°May I help you, m¡¯lord?¡± The bush around the man¡¯s head shifted hypnotically and it took Chris a moment to realize that it was the man speaking. ¡°I need to buy some skills. I have Skill Tokens.¡± ¡°Very good, m¡¯lord.¡± The man¡¯s eyes lit up at the mention of Skill Tokens, so much so that it his beard looked in danger of catching fire. ¡°And call me Chris.¡± ¡°Very good, m¡¯lo¡ªChris,¡± the man rumbled. ¡°What skills are you looking for?¡± He thought to himself. What was the stuff people always got in books and anime. Harems, attention from gods¡ªwith a fifty-fifty chance of them joining the harem¡ªmore harems, and identification skills. ¡°Do you have any hare¡ªI mean, skills that will let me know how powerful something is? And what¡¯s your name?¡± ¡°Brim, Lord Chris, and I have just the thing.¡± Brim hurried over to one of the unmarked baskets, shoved his hand inside and pulled out a specific crystal. He clutched it in his hand and whispered something to it. Light seeped from between his fingers, then he held out a crystal that looked exactly the same as it had before. ¡°This crystal holds [Insightful Gaze], rank F-1, which should give you information on the level of all enemies, rank F-3 and below.¡± Brim¡¯s free hand flicked outward. A screen appeared in front of Chris, showing that the skill was able to be exchanged for 4,000 System Coins, or one F-1 Skill Token. ¡°Would you recommend anything else?¡± ¡°I am unable to offer advice on how to advance your build, Lord Chris. I am an artificial construct created by the System-, non-System affiliated shops would be able to help you more.¡± Brim¡¯s beard drooped apologetically. ¡°No worry.¡± Chris¡¯ hand hesitated over the accept button, then fell away. ¡°Uh, do you have a skill that lets me detect danger?¡± Danger detection was more vague, but, unlike identify, it might work even if he didn¡¯t know where the threat was, or where it came from. It might even work against unidentifiable threats, like poison gas, or traps. ¡°I will retrieve it,¡± Brim said. He replaced the crystal, drawing a faint wisp out of it as he did so; then he moved to another basket and retrieved an identical looking crystal. ¡°[Sense Danger], rank F-1.¡± Brim held out the skill crystal. Perfect. Now for the rest. Chapter 21: Tutorial. Finally! He walked out an hour later with three new skills: [Danger Sense]; [Mana Spring]; and [Sunder]. The first two were at rank F-2, and the last was at F-1. He had needed the first rank in a skill to be able to buy the second. The first two were the more expensive skills of the lot¡ªespecially [Mana Spring]¡ªso he¡¯d bought the first rank of [Sunder] and [Danger Sense] for 3,500 and 6,000 System Coins respectively, and used his Skill Tokens to buy the rest. [Mana Spring] would give him the mana to use high powered skills more frequently, and let him summon his Beast Soul Weapon for longer; and [Sunder] was a low-cost offensive skill for causing more damage, particularly to armor and shields. The pit trap in front of the Spawning Vat was now covered in Slimes, but it would take a lot longer for it to reach even halfway full. Wanting to test things out, he summoned his Beast Soul Weapon and struck at a spawning Slime, just as it glooped out of the spigot, activating [Sunder] as he did so. Green goo sprayed from the monster¡¯s body as the weapon cleaved through it. The Slime¡¯s core, split in half, shattered like crystal disco balls as the defeated monster splattered into the pitfall and was promptly devoured by its fellow Slimes. He smiled and dismissed his weapon. Already his mana was refilling, much faster than it had previously, and his new attack skill didn¡¯t cost much. Perhaps now he¡¯d be able to wield the Beast Soul Weapon for a minute¡ªhalf if he used [Sunder] continuously¡ªrather than a couple of seconds. He strolled into the Weapon Vendor. He needed a new shield, and his mace was looking a little worse for wear. The weapon had taken a lot of abuse and needed to be retired. Chris left five minutes later, carrying a hammer and shield¡ªboth made of a silvery gray metal that resembled a matte version of steel. They¡¯d cost him 800 System Coins, but in his opinion, their ability to take and deal out punishment was worth it. The last thing to do was visit the free, System provided Tutorial Station he¡¯d built. Unlike Brim at the Skill Vendor, or the person in the Weapon¡¯s Vendor, there was no person manning the structure. It wasn¡¯t even a building, just a small booth covered by a small awning. Beneath the awning were pedestals arranged in a loose circle, with stools in front of each. He took a seat and pressed his hand to the pedestal. A robotic voice spoke within his mind, ¡°Welcome to System Tutorial Station. Would you like a basic introduction to the Tutorial?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± There was a beep and the voice continued, ¡°Welcome to the Tutorial, Christopher Hill of planet Earth (Formal Planetary Designation ¨C VNX-761394726). As new inductees to the multiverse, your species will occupy the Tutorial for the duration of one Earth year. ¡°After cessation of the Tutorial, you will return to your respective locations. Some of you were deposited among the multiverse to mitigate the full loss of your species in the case that a calamity befalls your home planet or universe¡ªif that is the case, you shall return there. ¡°If you were transported to such a location, please purchase the relevant planetary adaptation skills to avoid succumbing to the local conditions. You may also purchase teleportation home using a teleportation hub¡ªEarth coordinates will be automatically added to your teleportation ledger, free of charge. ¡°While in the Tutorial, you will share greater opportunities to grow in power with yours and other species. Since your species is new to the multiverse, your town will be under Starter Protections for the first fourteen days. A weakened rank F-1 Beast Horde will be spawned in seven days to give your race experience fighting against waves of besieging enemies. This Beast Horde will bypass standard Starter Protections. ¡°Once Starter Protections expire fully, your town will be able to be conquered by other races. You may also conquer the towns of other races to provide more opportunities for members of your race to occupy limited Tutorial slots. As a newly inducted race, you are entitled to one basic weapon from the System Tutorial Weapon Booth. You will receive a one-time quest to kill five monsters and reach Level 10 once you leave the area of the Starter Protections.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. ¡°Finally, please be aware that increasing your town rank will increase the difficulty of challenges you will face, as well as the strength of the surrounding area¡ªAnomalies are the exception to this rule, but grant greater rewards. Area rank may also be increased by defeating the strongest monster in the region. Town rank and other factors will determine the rarity, power, and quantity of materials that spawn nearby. Good luck, and please remember that without proper preparations, one life is all you get.¡± The voice stopped and Chris suddenly went still. One life and that was it? He had sort of expected it, but it still came as a shock. Surely something that resembled a game to such a degree should have respawns. The thought was worrying. Worse yet, it tore at his conscience. Had he doomed Bruce and Steve when he¡¯d pranked them earlier? The prospect of death had been solidified, and his eagerness to go out and risk his life diminished drastically. It was better to take things slow, to not try and pursue every single title out th¡ª Suddenly, his worries faded, everything was good. Steve and Bruce would be fine. What was most important was that he level up and obtain a¡­ something. He didn¡¯t know what that something was, but it was important, he just knew it. It was power, something worth fighting for, something worth dying for. He frowned, that last thought felt like it had come from somewhere else¡ªthen that worry smoothed away as well. He spoke into the sudden silence, ¡°What happens if a town is conquered? What happens to the inhabitants?¡± ¡°Question not recognized. Would you like to replay the Tutorial introduction, or do you wish to purchase a more advanced Tutorial introduction?¡± The idea of other races conquering towns to get access for their populations was frightening. There were races whose members had been here for a year. How could they compete against those after only fourteen days? That town rank-up business was bad news as well. Increasing the danger of the surrounding area would be disastrous for anyone spawning in. It would necessitate conquering towns in lower ranked zones. That was people like them. The sitting ducks. And Chris suddenly realized. There had been four artisans, but a fifth bone knight¡ªan Ossian Juggernaut¡ªin production. The Undead had their own buildings¡ªhe¡¯d seen them in the System buildings menu¡ªbut they hadn¡¯t even cleared the town of space for the System Coins. They should have. Free money was free money. Unless they couldn¡¯t. Unless¡­ what was its name? Nathak? Unless Nathak had been a newly conquered starter town¡ªdedicated to strengthening the newest members of the Undead race. Unless someone with the relevant authority was coming to take control of, and clear, the town. Maybe the operator of the fifth bone knight? And what would they find? Their town gone. Its occupants dead¡­ deader. And a human¡¯s keep in its place, with a human town nearby. ¡°Oh shit!¡± He had a feeling this was going to get awfully messy, awfully quickly. Fourteen days didn¡¯t sound like a lot of time. And he wasn¡¯t even sure if Kingscastle, his keep, had the same protections as Hartshire. He suspected not. He checked his titles, crossing his fingers for a settlement-owner related boost. None. Either it didn¡¯t exist, or someone had got there before him. However, if there was one thing of which he was certain, it was that he wouldn¡¯t last an hour against a determined siege. He needed more people. Not just for defense, but taxes too. Buildings were expensive, and he¡¯d never pay them all off on his own. There were other options, but he¡¯d consider them later. They would cause a whole host of problems if he opted to enact them. The stairs of his keep flew past him, three at a time, as Chris returned to the roof. He slapped his hand to the pedestal and tabbed over to the screen titled ¡°Spawning¡± that he had seen earlier while perusing the menus. Inside were two sliders, on labelled ¡°Human¡±, the other ¡°Slime¡±. Both were set to zero. He moved the human one up to maximum, then closed down the window. Hopefully he¡¯d get some citizens spawning soon. Either way, it was high time he got some sleep. He was exhausted. It had been a busy day. He¡¯d destroyed a Dungeon, defeated an Undead town solo-ish, and created his own demesne. But it was likely that enemies were coming. And even if they weren¡¯t, humanity would soon be facing threats that it simply wasn¡¯t prepared for¡ªthe tutorial introduction guaranteed that. He cursed as he realized that his keep didn¡¯t have a bed for him to sleep in. He couldn¡¯t be bothered to buy one from the general store, so he slunk awkwardly into the Defender¡¯s Barracks and slumped down on one of the vacant beds in which the Kingscastle guards would eventually spawn. His armor clanked and rattled, and it took him a moment to understand that he hadn¡¯t removed it since the previous day. He shucked the plates of worked armor from his skin as if he were an armored oyster. Then, casting his protection lazily onto the floor, he leaned back and let his head sink into a surprisingly decadent and downy pillow. Tomorrow would mark the start of the real grind and recon activities, but right now he was just appreciating the softness¡ªnot paying much heed to the demon blood that still stained him from head to toe. Tomorrow was the time for worrying about all the little problems that had roosted around him, but now was time for sleep. He didn¡¯t need much convincing. One more breath into the down pillow and he was out like a lamp. Chapter 22: Will-o’-the-wisp By his own best estimation, Chris rose midmorning to rain and dreariness. Still half-taken by sopor, he fumbled his way into his armor and slouched just within the doorway of the Defender¡¯s Barracks, the wooden door halted from closing by one elbow. Sheets of rain lashed against the paved road outside and his foot hesitated at the threshold. Then he scrunched up his face and marched unconvincedly out into the wet and damp. His clothes were instantly drenched but, once he was outside, it wasn¡¯t too incomprehensibly awful; the water pouring off the roof has conspired to misrepresent the heaviness of the rain, while also soaking him with the runoff. Nothing seemed particularly pressing, so, after buying and scarfing down a steaming sandwich that the General Supplies Vendor seemed to magic out of thin air, Chris strode out of the Kingscastle gates and made for the forest nearby. The rain must have been pretty consistent while he¡¯d been asleep. The cleared area had turned the muddy field surrounding his keep into a sucking mire that threatened to swallow his boots whole and leave him hopping around like a fool. Things went quicker once he reached the grassy edge of the forest. His boots left a slick of mud behind him as he began to jog through the forest, looking for prey. He shifted his grip on the hammer he¡¯d bought as he reached the glade. Empty, except for the ruined obelisk in the center and a few stray demons. He needed to level up, though, so he hefted his newly bought hammer and slammed it into the skull of a demon that had turned to hiss at him. His new weapon was obviously made of sterner stuff than the mace, or maybe the extra weight and length helped more than he thought; the demon¡¯s face buckled beneath the blow¡ªexploding with black blood¡ªand Chris pivoted to block a leaping demon with his shield. He slid back on the slick grass, but his defenses held. The angle made it difficult to leverage a full-force blow, but the next demon still went down in the second strike. He followed through with a backhand strike, arm extended, and smacked a third demon into a fourth. They both collapsed to the wet grass in a tangle of wings and limbs as the last demon leapt at him. Chris¡¯ reaction time had reached near superhuman levels; he ducked. The demon sailed over his head, then landed. Its claws dug into the soil beneath the grass, steadying it. The monster leapt, and a hammer sent it crashing to the ground with a caved ribcage. Chris felt a prickle like static, then staggered as something slammed into his back, then another. Unable to keep his footing on the slippery ground, he collapsed. The two tangled demons had extricated themselves while he¡¯d been busy with the last and tackled him from behind. Mud oozed between the grass, thwarting any traction he tried to achieve on the wet ground. Standing was futile and he gasped mouthfuls of churned water and dirt as one of the demons¡¯ claws dug into his flesh, curling beneath and between gaps in his armor. Desperately, he rolled and released his weapon, pushing off the bat-faced demons and the ground. One demon toppled off him, while the other ended up beneath him. He pressed the head of the pinned demon down into the mud with one hand while reaching for his discarded hammer to ward off the second demon scraping itself off the floor. He forgot about the wings. The wings of the demon trapped beneath him unfurled, even as the demon started to drown in mud. Chris was flipped off the demon¡¯s back, but he kept on pushing down on the monster¡¯s head.This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. The second demon was up and readying to leap. His weapons were too far away. The drowning demon in his grip struggled as it burbled mud. Chris kept on pressing. The second demon leapt. Chris flinched back and swung the drowning demon. The demon¡¯s muddy claws scored parallel lines through the leaping demon¡¯s throat, leading to an explosion of black blood from the wound. The monster¡¯s momentum carried it forward and Chris ended up with two demons on top of him again. It wasn¡¯t how he expected to spend the morning, that was for certain. Half-drowned or bleeding out, the demons put up little resistance as he thrust them away and limped staggeringly toward his hammer. He bent down, letting out a small whimper at the pain in his side, picked up the hammer and hobbled back. The hammer fell twice and the glade was once against silent except for the sound of rain. Chris let the weapon fall and pressed a hand to his wounds. The demons had got him good. He pulled his hand away to examine his palm. It was covered in demon gore, but only contained the faintest traces of his own blood. He wiped his hand against his sleeve. That was creepy. He kept on forgetting about the whole slime for blood thing that stopped him bleeding out. It was, he supposed, useful. One less thing to worry about. Still, he hurt all over and he wasn¡¯t used to hurting like this. The last few days had been a horrible shock, in which he had become a leaf in a whirlwind of pain. He summoned a healing potion from one of the tattoos and swigged it. He wanted to test its efficacy against imbibing it with his Slime arm. He really needed to come up with a name for it. His body was filled with warm, fuzzy healing streams as his flesh knitted back together. The potions didn¡¯t seem to have much difference between swallowing them and getting the Slime to swallow them. Then again, he was probably using way too much potion to deal with small wounds. He shrugged and retrieved his gear. Better to use too much potion than to use too little and still have massive holes in his body. After letting his arm chow down on one of the demons, Chris moved on. If there was one benefit to the rain, it was how it sluiced streams of black demon blood off his body and into the mud. He strode out of the glade and went deeper into the forest, there had to be more monsters somewhere inside.
The trees had gotten taller and the foliage thicker and harder to traverse. The leafy canopy was no longer a permeable filter that allowed light and rain to leak through, but now a dark blanket draped against the outside world. Most of the forest floor was blessedly dry, although the rain still fell and so curtains of leaf-channeled water fell in large quantities in some areas¡ªgouging out patches of forest floor and no doubt contributing to a rich history of undulating and uneven footing within the undergrowth. Overall, though, hopping over small streams was far more pleasant than wading through a river of mud. The forest gloom was deepening overhead and as he continued, the tree trunks became wreathed with unearthly mist. There were sounds from deep within, rustling and hissing and snarling, all distorted as if muted by a frost giant¡¯s breath. Shadows and red lights danced within the pale haze like will-o¡¯-the-wisps, fading suddenly then reappearing elsewhere, and giving the mist a chthonic, phantasmagoric feel¡ªthe sense of demons dancing in smoke. Chris took a step back, then steeled himself and walked forward. The mist was cold and clammy, and the noises¡ªwhich had sounded muted outside of its confines¡ªwere far more pronounced inside. A roar erupted beside him and he whirled to bring his shield to bear, but there was nothing except the shapes and lights in the mist. The red lights continued to bob and dance, appearing for a brief wraith¡¯s jig before vanishing into smoke and shadow. He tread cautiously, making certain every step was sure, wary of losing his footing in the fog. The appearance of the entire area reminded him of tales of swamp lights, called ignis fatuus or aleya¡ªluminous phenomena that hung in the air, luring unwary travelers to their doom. The mist shifted; an icy wind wrapped its diaphanous fingers around him, ensconcing him in a cocoon of roiling cloud. Visibility worsened and the red lights drew closer, borne on the backs of shadows. Above the trees there was cloud-filtered sunlight, but here, beneath forest shade, the dark closed in and wove twilight among the fallen leaves. He shivered as the first pair of lights resolved themselves, lower than expected, black ringed with red, set evenly apart. The lights faded like stars in the night sky, before reappearing again. Chris¡¯ breath hitched. Not lights. Eyes. Chapter 23: Boars A snort came from out of the mist and two puffs of snot-flecked haze shot toward him along with a generous helping of rancid breath. The smell was thick with rotting mushrooms, leaves, and a faint undertone of spoiled meat¡ªlike a storm drain that had dried out and been left to rot. The shadow behind the breath snorted again, this time identified with the sound of a hoof scattering soil and leaves. Feeling a prickle run down his back, Chris readied his hammer as the shadow charged. He swung, but the mist was deceptive. The shadow was closer than it seemed and, mid stroke, barreled into him. Two wicked tusks, backed by a brown-bristled body swept his knees out from under him, tossing him into a bush as the boar rampaged past. He pushed himself up off his hammer and shield, and turned back to the boar. The boar circled slowly, disappearing into the mist before charging back. This time, Chris expected the distortive effects of his surroundings and swung early, activating [Sunder], intending on turning the boar into paste. Expecting wasn¡¯t the same as compensating for. Instead of hitting the charging beast in the chest, the hammer splintered its left tusk like bone china. The boar squealed and its head dipped down under the impact; its remaining tusk gored the earth instead. Dirt and leaves sprayed everywhere as the monster slid forward, one tusk carving through the ground in front of it as its knees buckled beneath it. Chris felt another prickle down his spine, and this time he noticed his mana drain ever so slightly. He hopped back a few steps, just as the boar¡¯s tusk caught a subterranean rock. The boar¡¯s momentum stopped abruptly and it pivoted upward, rump waving in the air before crashing down right in front of Chris¡¯ feet. The hammer hung limply at Chris¡¯ side as his mouth dropped open. That was a close one! If he hadn¡¯t moved out of the way in time, the shape of a pig¡¯s ass would have been permanently embossed in his forehead. At least his [Danger Sense] was paying off. The boar began to right itself, still squealing, finding its footing on uneasy trotters as it turned to glare malevolently at its tormentor. Its tormentor glared back and sent a heavy hammer crashing into its spine. The boar collapsed again, its legs splaying out beneath it as its squealing paused for just long enough to register before resounding out at a far higher volume and intensity. Chris raised his hammer one more time, just as his [Danger Sense] registered again. He looked around, seeing nothing but a ring of mist and lights. ¡°Oh shit.¡± He had a feeling that was becoming an unwelcome catchphrase. The boar he¡¯d almost killed was struggling weakly, unable to rise, but there wasn¡¯t time to finish it. He was surrounded. Then his [Danger Sense] went off again, and again, and again¡ªuntil he was sure that it had just registered for every single boar around him. The cost was miniscule on its own, but it was beginning to snowball. Worse yet, the boars were beginning to move, pawing at the ground with their trotters. He looked around. Nowhere to go. Red lights stretched away and away, each pair the eyes of a boar drawn by the piteous screams of its brethren. Chris felt a chill run through him. And then they charged. Nowhere to go but up. He jumped and slung his shield arm over a branch, jimmying a leg up, and hoisting himself the rest of the way. Just in time, squeals and snorts surged beneath him as the bacon tide overtook the forest floor where he¡¯d been standing.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. He shifted around, then hung down by his legs to land cheap shots on the boars as they roiled and heaved beneath him, leaping on top of one another for the chance at spitting him on their curving tusks. Then the tree began to shake as the swarm of boars aimed to dislodge him like ripe fruit. It almost worked. Chris flailed as his legs slipped. He only just managed to hook the head of his hammer around the branch to stop himself sliding farther. A few more inches and he¡¯d have been too far gone, falling to be swallowed by the sea of boars beneath him¡ªliterally. Jiggling himself back into a secure spot, he reached up for a higher branch, just as the tree wobbled again and let out an awful groaning noise. He steadied himself and looked around. He didn¡¯t quite trust his Dexterity enough to risk leaping to a nearby tree, and the branches that got close to them were awfully thin. Some of the trees were barely even visible, spectral silhouettes in the mist. He edged closer to the trunk of the tree, then slammed his hammer down low into the base of it. He shook his head in self-reproach, he was honestly becoming something of a one trick pony. Deforestation was not a universal solution. The wood buckled easily beneath the blow and the tree pitched forward like the mast of a foundering ship. Chris clambered around the side of the tree, making sure that he was on the upward facing side when the tree finally collapsed. Collapse it did, with a boom and a rustle of leaves. Boars trapped beneath the collapsing timber squealed, and mist blasted away from the area as rain and overcast light poured through the hole in the forest¡¯s roof. Chris looked around, most of the boars had fled when the tree hit the ground. A few still remained, about nine of them, glaring at him. Now, however, the tree¡¯s branches and leaves provided a decent protection against flanking and encirclement. He shifted his balance on the fallen trunk and readied his hammer and shield. The boars took the action as an invitation and careened toward him, squealing and bellowing, splitting into two groups that took either side of the trunk. Ready for them, Chris sprung off the tree, letting the rampaging beasts pass under him. He landed to the left of the trunk, swung low, and kneecapped three of the five animals that had taken the left side. The boars on the right side chose that moment to crest the trunk, but the noise and Chris¡¯ [Danger Sense] alerted him. He had already sidestepped and a blunt hammer face met a porcine snout. The snout lost and the hammer carved a canyon in its face as it scraped up towards the beast¡¯s eyes. The boar collapsed without so much as a squeal of pain. That left five boars in fighting shape. It didn¡¯t seem too difficult. They lacked the malevolent intelligence of the demons in the Dungeon, or the coordination of the Undead. They were just walking sausage factories that hadn¡¯t yet accepted their fates. He spun around them as they charged again, clipping the legs of two more and taking them out of the fight. Three left. He brought his hammer down. Two. Swung his weapon to the side. One. The final fell without ceremony. But the majority were not dead. Most still squealed and struggled limply in their agony. Chris moved between them, hammer rising and falling like a red metronome. He had reached the last when he saw it. Rising from the body of the first boar he¡¯d killed with the blow to its snout. The light in the monster¡¯s eyes had faded, and now that luminosity hung over its corpse like a shroud, pulling itself from the surface of the downed beast like a crimson ghost leaving its body. Silently it detached, its trailing ends snapping into itself like elastic, until it was a small orb of luminesce that began gently floating toward him. Whatever it was, it wasn¡¯t good. More began manifesting from the corpses, draining the light from the monsters¡¯ eyes. Chris backed away as the lights approached, stepping into the clearing of the fallen tree, where the rain fell and brought with it a small breeze that helped disperse the mist in the area. His [Danger Sense] started going off again as they approached, but as they hit areas with less fog, the lights dispersed abruptly, fading into nothingness. Chris checked his mana pool, surprised to see that it had decreased by about a third due to all the times the skill had gone off. It was an unexpected downside that it registered indiscriminately for each individual threat, although he couldn¡¯t really complain about it, even if it was a drain on his mana. [Mana Spring] was working passively to replenish his pool, and he could almost swear he could feel energy in the mist seeping into him. However, this was neither the time or place to be musing about how to absorb mana at higher rates. He was surrounded by killer pigs that released dangerous, homing will-o¡¯-the-wisps whenever they died. It would make dealing with the swarm of hogs difficult, even if he had wanted to try taking them all on. He was more interested in what was creating this mist. It obviously wasn¡¯t natural. If he could bypass the trash mobs, then he could cut the problem off at the root. The main danger seemed to be the lack of visibility and the red wisps. If the mist dissipated, then it would be much easier to deal with the boars. Chapter 24: Venom in the mist Chris stood in the rain, waiting for the last of the wisps to approach¡ªhe¡¯d taken to calling the things ghost lights. It floated over slowly, fading as the mist diluted around it. Before it could disappear, Chris struck at it with his hammer, using [Sunder] for extra effect. The ghost light wobbled as the haze around and within it was displaced. It paused for a moment, then its form rallied and it continued floating forward, only to fade as it ran out of mist to suspend and sustain it. He couldn¡¯t harm them, his weapons couldn¡¯t touch them, but his [Danger Sense] screamed at him every time the ghost lights approached. They were enemies that only could be avoided or led out of the mist. He¡¯d have to avoid killing boars, if he got trapped by a swarm of them, he¡¯d be a sitting duck for when the ghost lights approached. Right now, it looked like the coast was clear, so he continued farther into the forest. The boars continued to gather around him, but he jumped into the trees and hid among the leaves before they gathered up for the charge. It wasn¡¯t the most dignified response, but the boars would wander away moments later. Chris continued like that for an hour. The mist had become thicker and the trees taller around him. He had to be close now. As if on cue, a smell like smoke and leaves curled in his nostrils and the air became filled with sinister whispers. He stepped forward and the mist cleared around him for a moment, before a thick pulse of the haze brushed past him. Then, he felt rain pattering against him and the light touch of a breeze. He must be in some forest clearing. However, the strange mist remained. This had to be where it was being produced. He stepped forward and the clearing thinned the mist enough to see the tree ahead of him. Then the tree shook and a wave of dark smoke exploded out of it, brushing past him with enough insubstantial impetus to ruffle his hair. Then the wave of smoke was behind him, fading into the forest. He stepped closer, hammer at the ready. The tree was small, it would only take a single strike to fell it. He was almost beside it, and after one of the waves of mist subsided, he saw the tree clearly. It was a squat and spindly thing. Skeletal branches jutted out, devoid of leaves¡ªexcept for near its crown where a solitary leaf clung on for dear life. Its bark was reddish black and its trunk undulated upward in ugly crimson cankers that tessellated together in an odd pattern. The ground around the tree seemed charred and burnt. Blackened grass crisped and crunched beneath his feet¡ªbrittle and dead despite the rain. There was something wrong with the tree, something killing everything around it, something creating the ghost lights within the boars. Chris raised his hammer and slammed it into the trunk. The tree shook and groaned, but held strong, despite how spindly and half-dead it looked. Suddenly, the trunk shifted, red coils began to unwind from around it, revealing blackened wood and weeping golden sap. Eyes like a wildfire seen through smoke snapped open and Chris realized too late the red ¡®bark¡¯ was a snake wrapped around a dying tree. The serpent¡¯s fangs were dug deep within the wood, pale golden sap and reddish venom oozing out from within the bite marks. The serpent seemed to glare at him as it eased its curving teeth from the tree.
New Quest!If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. (Optional ¨C Human/Monster) Defeat Xys of Smoke (0/1)
Chris blinked at the screen, then swung his hammer at the monster¡¯s head, activating [Sunder] and feeling his mana drain slightly. There was no point in letting it get its head out of the tree. That seemed like a bad idea. Like a vile nail, the serpent¡¯s toothy jaw slammed back into the holes it had bitten in the wood. Xys let out an enraged hiss, then struggled to free its head again. Chris attacked again, his mana empowered blows starting to crack the scales around the serpent¡¯s skull. Somehow, through the onslaught, the tree held strong and steady, even as increasing quantities of the red venom carved smoking lines down its sides, poisoning the earth around it. The tree throbbed as Xys writhed, and Chris found himself engulfed in another burst of smoky mist. He lost sight of the snake within the cloud, just as he swung again. His blow somehow missed entirely and the strength of the follow-through overbalanced him and sent him to the ground. He picked himself up quickly, holding his shield in front of him, then tried to attack the snake again as the mist cleared. He didn¡¯t get the chance. Xys¡¯ head had just freed itself of the tree, but it was too tightly wound to strike out at him as of yet. Its tail was another matter. The monster¡¯s tail was loose, and it flicked out, smashing into Chris¡¯ shield and toppling him backward. Xys lashed out again with its tail, but it was slightly too far away. Chris rose and inspected his shield. He¡¯d just bought it, but now there was a large dent in its surface. The snake was strong, stronger than him, that was for certain. Nothing would save him if he let the serpent uncoil itself fully, so he charged back in¡ªleaping over the tail when it whipped out at him once more and bringing the hammer down on its coiled body in one glorious [Sunder] from above. The hammer struck Xys¡¯ coils with immense force and the serpent hissed and thrashed. Scales buckled and shattered beneath the weight of the blow and Chris followed through with a shield bash to the snake¡¯s head. But its head was now free and it simply spun around the tree, moving with the blow, loosening itself as it went. Chris stepped back as streams of venom jetted from its mouth, splattering against his right arm and armor and shield. The red venom hissed and steamed like the serpent itself and the metal it touched began to look like a layer of bubbling paint. Chris¡¯ arm fared worse. The venom soaked into him, burning through layers of dead skin in an instant, exposing sensitive flesh beneath. He could feel the red liquid beginning to be swept into his blood stream. On impulse, he commanded the Slime to shed that part of itself. He wasn¡¯t even sure if it was possible, but he hoped that the Slime¡¯s upgrade to rank F-2 and its consumption of the flower in the demon Dungeon had given him greater control of it. It had. Layers of flesh and skin resolved into green goop and trickled off the surface of his sensitive flesh, leaving exposed, unbleeding flesh behind. Even better, the nerves of the area seemed to have been pinched off as the pain vanished, despite him having a gaping hole in his arm. He could still feel the venom in his bloodstream, but he had to hope that the Slime in his veins would be able to deal with it¡ªit was a perk of his Monstrous Constitution trait: resistance to bleed and poison effects. He stepped in close, just out of reach of the snake trying to reach him, then charged [Sunder] and slammed his hammer down on the snake¡¯s head again. An area of weakened scales gave out under the blow and Xys recoiled. A gap in the serpent¡¯s head now showed pulsing tissues and shards of scale and bone. It shrunk back to the tree and hissed menacingly at him. Chris stood still, unsure of what to do, he didn¡¯t want to go within the monster¡¯s strike range, but it was obviously plotting something. The snake side-eyed him for a moment longer, then buried its fangs back in the tree, its whole body contorting. The tree pulsed again and this time the mist that came out of it was tinged with sickly red. He took a breath and closed his eyes, just before the rolling red cloudbank hit him and passed him by. He opened his eyes to a world tinted ever so slightly red, to faint urges to follow the obedience of gleeful slaughter in the name of a serpentine master. It was at that point that he realized that his eyes, nose, and lungs were already burning up. It was at that point that he realized he should have been holding his breath the entire time. The snake flicked its tongue mockingly toward him, as it withdrew its fangs from the tree it used to disperse its venom. The venom in the mist began to take hold. Chapter 25: Blood Xys¡¯ head swayed idly as it watched him, a gleam of anticipation in its wildfire eyes. Chris stared back, locked in an internal struggle against the compulsion to obey. It thrashed inside his mind like a caged beast, demanding to be released¡ªbegging, bargaining. It whispered to him, promising the pain of the poison flowing within him would abate, and strengthen him instead, if only he would obey. It was a slippery thought, insidious, more ophidian than the snake itself. A coiled whisper waiting to strike, offering peace to be found in surrender, the peaceful transfixation of doomed prey. If only he succumbed, he would be stronger. If only he relinquished, he would be freed. If. If. If. Potentials whirled within his mind, and the serpent slid closer, a sinuous wave across wet and blackened ground. [Danger Sense] activated, breaking him out of the serpent¡¯s compulsion, moments before the snake¡¯s forked tongue flicked out to christen his forehead with poison. It missed. Just. He dodged to the left, swinging his hammer up into the snake¡¯s lower jaw. The snake¡¯s mouth slammed shut and its upper fangs sank through the soft flesh of its chin before it could angle them back. The snake whipped its head, forcing Chris to release the weapon or risk being tossed away with it. He summoned his Beast Soul Weapon instead, slicing the curved blade into the monster¡¯s eye, carving an easy cut through its face. The snake hissed at him as blood welled from the wound, rising up from a diagonal of splintered scale that bisected its eye. Chris stepped back farther as Xys rose, ascending to its full height. It turned its head so that its single remaining eye gazed down at him. The snake opened its mouth wide, its fangs sliding free of its lower jaw, releasing a rain of blood and venom that hissed and steamed against the ground. The monster fixed him with half a glare¡ªfilled with twice the fire. Chris felt himself freeze as the compulsion resurged. The snake struck and Chris¡¯ [Danger Sense] flared again. Too late. Chris jumped away, but fanged jaws closed around his arm up to the elbow. Xys reared in triumph, the motion lifting Chris into the air by his captured arm. Its fangs began to pump its red venom into the struggling human. Chris¡¯ eyes widened, he jerked his arm free of his shield, where it clattered to the ground, breaking in half along the line corroded in it by the serpent¡¯s venom. He vanished his Beast Soul Weapon, then manifested it in his other hand. He choked up on the haft just as he felt the first flares of pain from the toxin pouring into him. He activated [Sunder] and struck at the serpent¡¯s throat, eliciting a hiss from the monster and drawing another upwelling of blood¡ªthicker and more plentiful than elsewhere. He struck once more, the second cut crisscrossing the first. Xys failed to release him. It didn¡¯t need to. Chris¡¯ arm dissolved in the serpent¡¯s mouth; it turned into torrents of green, filled with blooms of red¡ªslime and venom. Chris landed heavily and rolled, dismissing his Beast Soul Weapon. He was low on mana and needed to conserve as much as possible, in case the monster hadn¡¯t been put down for good. He said a silent prayer for the VRMMOs he¡¯d played; if it weren¡¯t for them, he¡¯d have no clue how to ration his mana pool, or use a weapon. Not that he really knew how to use weapons anyway. Maybe it was Luck, or Wisdom, or Perception, or Intelligence¡ªmaybe it was all three¡ªbut it seemed like he wasn¡¯t handling himself too badly. Except for the fact that he was missing his arm at the elbow, and he was pretty sure Xys had dislocated his shoulder when it tugged him up into the air.Stolen novel; please report. He stopped in a crouch, eyeing the monster warily. It thrashed its head from side to side as steam started rising from its mouth. Globs of green goo dripped out from the two holes in its jaws, spattering the ground. Xys¡¯ face was a ruined mess. The creature had swallowed part of the gooey arm, and now the acidic jelly was wreaking havoc on its insides. The snake might be immune to its own poison, but flesh-eating acid was a different matter. Come to think of it, that same flesh-eating acid was happily swimming around within his body. Now that was a scary thought! Either way, the monster was distracted, so he ran up to its body and resummoned his Beast Soul Weapon, fixing it beneath Xys¡¯ reared-up body like a boar spear. Then, he headbutted the snake¡¯s side with [Sunder]. It wasn¡¯t very effective; honestly, he¡¯d hurt himself with the attack more than he¡¯d hurt the serpent. But Xys noticed, and Xys was pissed. The snake rolled over, trying to crush him. The ground was slick with rain, and the snake was unable to stop its momentum. The weapon pierced clean through it as Chris jumped away. Moments later, no longer being held, the weapon vanished into smoke that streamed back into Chris¡¯ body. The damage had been done. At least he hoped it had. He fled from the spasming snake, only just realizing that the clearing was surrounded on all sides by the poison-possessed boars. They didn¡¯t dare approach the tree or the snake, though, so they just stared unblinkingly into the rain-soaked arena. Chris watched the snake warily, he was down one arm, critically low on mana, and weaponless. One of those he could fix in short order. He circled the clearing until he found his hammer and picked it up. The weight felt odd in his left hand¡ªhe was already used to holding a shield there. He¡¯d just have to make do with what he had. The snake had regained some semblance of composure now, but it was slow and sluggish as the blood loss took hold. It slithered toward him, intent on taking him down. Chris circled away, moving at a light jog to keep out of reach. There was no point in fighting when the creature might just bleed out. Sure enough, Xys slowed further, its one remaining eye growing heavy. The monster moved at no more than a crawl and Chris matched its pace, walking backward so he could constantly keep an eye on the monster. Then the serpent drew in a pained, rattling breath and its head collapsed into the wet grass, venom dribbling from its mouth in a slow red stream. It scorched the surrounding grass, the sizzle masked by the constant fall of rain. Chris walked forward and raised his hammer for the killing blow, aimed squarely at the region of cracked scale on the monster¡¯s head. A glint of red light caught his attention, filtering through a visor-like chink in Xys¡¯ eyelid. Why was the snake looking at him? Xys lashed forward and buried its fangs in his leg, even as the hammer slammed into the cracked scales, breaking through. Chris froze as he felt toxin sear its way into his leg and through his veins. The snake had only been partially sandbagging, and now it collapsed for real¡ªcompletely spent. But it was too late. He could feel his Slime blood fighting the venom in his veins, but much of it had been lost when the serpent ate his arm. He pried his leg free of the snake and crawled away as the pain spread through him. Remembering his potions, he pushed one, then another, out of the tattoos. He should have had tattoos, at least. But they were gone, devoured by the snake along with his arm. Still, the potions dropped out of the air where his arm should have been. He set aside his hammer and quaffed the first, then the second. His wounds healed quickly and his dislocated shoulder slammed back into its socket with a painful pop, but the potions did nothing for the venom inside him. Without the snake¡¯s attention it was an aimless, directionless poison¡ªlacking the fiery compulsion it once had, but still ravaging the tissues nearby. It was, just like the snake¡¯s eyes, a wildfire burning beyond all control. His arm began reforming, next, Slime growing from the stump until a forearm and five digits were visible. It reminded him of something, even as the poison spread. He circulated his mana in the way dictated by the troll¡¯s Cultivation Technique, then activated the stolen trait: Stone Form. It only applied to the Slime, but it was in his blood, just like the venom. He could feel the toxin gnawing its way toward his vital organs¡ªalready partially there, courtesy of the poisoned mist. He had no time to be specific. The rain fell softly, swallowing the last gasps of the snake, the mist lessened and boars lay collapsed at the edge of the clearing, the red light in their eyes fading with the snake¡¯s. And at the center of it all, beside a skeletal tree, stood Christopher, rigid and still as his veins turned to stone. Chapter 26: Control Inside a rain-drenched clearing, beside a gaunt tree that clung to its last sliver of life, stood a statue, made of flesh and bone, with veins of solid rock. The mist that had shrouded the center of the forest was nearly spent¡ªalong with the tree that sustained it. Even the rain was slowly dying, falling in sporadic bursts. But, from the statue, life was making a reemergence. The stone morphed back into slime, releasing blood bound within it back into the body. The venom that had once rampaged through vulnerable veins had long ago found itself spent against stone that proved too tenacious, unyielding, and unliving for it to penetrate. And the body, released from the stricture of stone that wove through every vein, artery, and capillary, collapsed bonelessly to the ground. Pale, Constitution-empowered tissues, starved of oxygen reinvigorated themselves as the human¡¯s drive to breathe asserted itself. And, as the rain dwindled and the mist thinned, Chris woke to the serpent lying dead beside him, and the perimeter of the clearing filled with the corpses of boars¡ªpoisoned when the snake lost control of its venom. The last pale leaf of the blackened and skeletal tree fluttered weakly above, like a white flag flown from the tallest turret of a ruined castle. In front of him, a screen flared to life.
Quest Completed! Defeat Xys of Smoke (1/1) Reward: 8,000 System Coins, Dao Solidification, Area Threat Rank Upgrade (F-2)
In a daze, he read through the screen eyes widening as he realized what had just happened. The System Tutorial Station had warned him about it. With the strongest monster in the area dead, the area would get more dangerous and random treasures would be seeded throughout it. He was about to check what Dao Solidification was, when another set of screens appeared.
Congratulations! The former Area Guardian has been defeated, as the victorious monster you have been selected as the current Area Guardian. Area Threat Rank Upgrade (F-2) has been automatically applied. Increased spawning of all monsters of your Race in the Area. Area will begin alteration upon your indication, or within the next 12 hours. Treasures will spawn according to Luck. Area Upgrade Quests unlocked
New Quests! (Optional ¨C Monster ¨C Area Guardian) Increase your Racial Rank to F-3 (0/1) (Optional ¨C Monster ¨C Area Guardian) Conquer a Settlement (1/1)
Chris groaned as he looked the screens over. He was not yet fully recovered from being petrified. His stats were high enough to prevent him from dying, but they were too low to prevent him from feeling as if his brain and body had been tenderized by a black-belt German masseur.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. The screens looked like bad news, but that had to wait for later. The brush with death had shaken him more than he wanted to admit. What¡¯s more, this wasn¡¯t how he would normally act. He saw that now. Running into the jaws of death and hoping to come out alive on the other side. He thought back to the people he¡¯d met in the forest¡ªSteve, Philip, Cecilia, Percy, Bruce. What would drive someone to just snatch up a weapon and go out and fight like that? He was guilty of that too. They were all doing stupid things. That didn¡¯t mean they weren¡¯t going about doing those stupid things intelligently. Taking weapons to fight monsters wasn¡¯t a bad idea; though fighting them in the first place was. What was happening? Ever since¡­ since¡­ since he¡¯d taken that Pill of Pure Body, he¡¯d felt different. No, even before that. The pill had just exacerbated it when it brought him up to a rank F-2 Human. The sense of gung-ho invulnerability, the sense of untouchability, the false knowledge that everything would work out fine. He felt something flare within him, trying to soothe him, reassure him that he was dwelling on inconsequential worries, that¡­ that¡­ He had almost sent Bruce and Steve to their deaths. Chris dragged himself along the ground like a slug, slumping up against the skeletal tree. The calming nonchalance tried to reassert itself, but he was aware of it now. It was a foreign feeling and he quashed it. What had changed? He delved inward, searching for the wild ball of mana at his center. It had grown considerably. He already knew that of course. It had grown when he¡¯d bought [Mana Spring]. But had it? Had it actually? He thought back. Brim had never told him it increased his mana pool. It just replenished it faster, allowing for the usage of more skills. The issues had really begun manifesting after the Pill of Pure Body. Before that it was just generally assholery and foolhardiness. But after that¡­ Massacring a town filled with demons and Undead. Pitting himself against a herd of wild boars. Facing down a snake with mind-controlling venom. That wasn¡¯t¡­ him. Sure, he could be an idiot, in the way that only a smart person who overestimates their intelligence could be¡­ but that¡­ challenging an unknown creature at the center of the forest¡­ that wasn¡¯t idiocy. That was monster-assisted suicide. And somehow, somehow, he was certain the wild ball of mana at his center was at the heart of it. The Mana Manual¡ªhis reward for reaching Level 10¡ªhad said nothing of it. The troll Cultivation Technique provided no insights¡ªit focused on absorbing mana and using the throughflow to strengthen the effect of Stone Form. It did nothing to the chaotic swirl of inner power that was going to get him killed. He grimaced as the sense of impunity washed over him again, he looked closer at his center. The mana was like a star hanging in a void within him¡ªsimultaneously inside him and not. Long filamentous strands of mana extended to crystalline structures within him that hinted at greater truths, but revealed nothing¡ªhis skills. Another thread extended out from that place that was everywhere and nowhere to the Beast Soul Weapon in his regrown arm. Now he saw it, the tattoo was placed both on his physical body and his soul, acting as a conduit between¡ªrequiring damage to both in order to be removed. At least that explained why he¡¯d been able to summon the weapon when he lost the limb that held the weapon. Was he getting off track? He was, wasn¡¯t he. He reined his thoughts back in and refocused on the stellar ball of mana within him. It churned loosely within him, a corona of energy emitting out from it in all directions. Chris frowned, he had thought that was just the void, but now he realized that his soul was filled with a thin film of the radiative energy. And, at certain points, holes in the seemingly limitless space drunk in that film like a dam¡¯s spillway swallowed overflow. There were seven of those holes and each of them consumed the energy, channeling it to somewhere he could not reach. They seemed somewhat permeable to mana, but his consciousness was blocked from passing through them. However, the barriers to them did not feel utterly immovable, just resistant to his current level of strength. Those must be the meridians the Mana Manual talked of. He didn¡¯t want to touch those until he knew what he was doing. He did the next best thing, and cleared mana away from the meridians like a bulldozer might clear snow. The mana trickled back toward the meridians, but the process was slow and would take a while before it reached them again. Still, it would require continuous upkeep to ensure he didn¡¯t go all Leeroy Jenkins again. No sooner had Chris finished clearing the last meridian than his eyes snapped open, feeling a sense of measured calm that he hadn¡¯t even realized he¡¯d lost. The rain had ended and the field was now a drying quagmire mixed with snake blood. He¡¯d been lost in his internal examination for a while and now the sun was setting. Ahead of him rested the corpse of the serpent, above the lone leaf of a dying tree still fluttered like a pennant of surrender, as the last of the golden sap drawn by the snake¡¯s fangs dried against its blackened bark. Chapter 27: Dao Solidification He didn¡¯t feel in any shape to climb the tree and pluck the last leaf¡ªit had to be something truly formidable if the tree had been able to bear a continuous infusion of Xys¡¯ venom for who knows how long. That even a single leaf clung to the tree was a miracle in and of itself. Since the tree would have to wait for later, Chris checked his Status. He¡¯d gained two levels, and six stat points to allocate as a result. He put two each into Dexterity, Constitution, and Luck. He¡¯d also got a new title with some great benefits. Area Guardian I: Be the Guardian of a rank [F] Area. +10 to all stats. +5% to all stats. It was equivalent to his Genesis of Blood title, and had one of the extremely valuable percentage stat boosts that he¡¯d only seen so far in the ¡®first in cohort¡¯ titles, and the ¡®you are almost guaranteed to die trying to get this title¡¯ titles like Surpasser. It also seemed to be a title that would normally be monster exclusive. Combined with the traits that monster had, like Monstrous Constitution, it was easy to see how the foremost among them could become truly formidable. Xys had yanked him off the ground like a doll in a child¡¯s arms, it must have required a significant Strength attribute. If all the monster titles were like this, Chris could see how something like that could be achieved, particularly with percentage boosts. All the thinking of traits reminded him about his arm¡¯s Assimilation ability. He shimmied over to the dead serpent and laid his hand across its side. The Slime pulsed with hunger and melted into one of snake¡¯s wounds, devouring flesh with gleeful abandon. After absorbing the flower in the Dungeon it had slowly gained more of an appetite¡ªthat, or being severed and healed back had made it ravenous. He really needed to come up with a name for it, he couldn¡¯t just keep on thinking of it as ¡®his arm¡¯, or ¡®the Slime¡¯, or his ¡®Slime arm¡¯. As the Slime melted its way through a good portion of snake sashimi, Chris mused on what to call it. Garthak Destroyer of Worlds was too ominous, Geralt of Rivia was trademarked, Rimuru Tempest was too on the nose and probably trademarked as well. Sid seemed like a good fit. Short for ¡®Acid¡¯, of course. It was short, pithy, awe-inspiring. It was also the name of the sloth in Ice Age who didn¡¯t do much except eat flowers and look for food. Okay, so it wasn¡¯t awe-inspiring, maybe awe-inspiring-ish. But it was perfect. Sid gorged himself on the snake¡ªhe assumed Sid was male, he burped too much¡ªbefore shrinking back into the form of an arm. Chris waited for the burp. Sid burped. There it was! Chris¡¯ first glimmerings of hunger had been satiated simultaneously and a lot of the weakness and fatigue he was feeling after thawing from Stone Form was fading¡ªthough that might have been weakness from the poison. He selected his remaining reward: Dao Solidification. He fell inward. Beyond his center. Beyond his soul. Memories and concepts whirled within him, like stars within a snowstorm. Three images warred against each other, luminous dancers in a blizzard of meaning. They circled like stars on a collision course, each a microcosm of experience and understanding. The first was silence, no¡­ no¡­ Silence with a capital ¡®ess¡¯. He fell into its radiant depths to where the Silence roared and bellowed. A lack of sound that rose from deep within. A memory of the space between heartbeats, the abyss between each thought, and the punctuating hitch before the panicked breath as disquiet turned to dread.Stolen novel; please report. It was Nathak, filled with the dead and their butcher. It was a black hole of noise. Timeless. Immortal. Hungry. A deadening. A sleeping titan of a soundless dread he could neither shake nor name. It was not Silence. Not truly. It was something deeper. A nameless, soundless sorrow, the voice of the crypt, the final scream of the void as its dark serenity was ripped apart by light and sound. It was the promise of its own return as heat died across the multiverse, a constellation of quiet sweeping across the black skies over which it would preside forever after. It was not Silence, but the name would have to do. And it was not time. But it was patient. A yearning patience, serene and cold and cruel. It spat him out of its bright depths like thunder. It would wait. Chris whirled as the second of the orbiting radiances slammed into him. It was different. Less hungry. But insistent. A beast of obligation that crushed him beneath its paw. The gavel-fall of each second of the clock, dictating that all mortals dance to its tune and march in line to its supremacy. It was a serpent¡¯s venom that demanded resignation to its toxin¡¯s course. Xys¡¯ gift. A ball and chain to yoke and shackle its victim to the exaltation of abasement and obedience. It was Subjugation. It had broken the mountains¡¯ backs across its knee. What was a mortal¡¯s will? Chris could not fight it; it was not Xys¡¯ red venom. It was purer, a distillation of the venom¡¯s intent, and more. It was an eroding insistence and an overwhelming expression of supremacy. And when it was done with him, it let him go from its surface, a chain tugging taut against his ankle. The orbit of the third and last approached and Chris braced for impact. It never came. It spun him around its center and sent him elsewhere. Subjugation¡¯s chain broke beneath its attention. He was cast off from all else, from concept and sense and thought. The System crumbled beneath its shadow as it had in the Dungeon. Chris faded as Isolation took its due. And then he was floating within that swirl of concept and creation as the three fused before him, becoming something solid and complete, a crystallized manifestation of the three¡ªdegenerate in purity and perfection, but potent all the same. Three became one and their brilliance blinded him. The light subdued and Chris no longer found himself in that strange storm of windblown meaning. Back in his soul, his center, his solidified Dao waited for him. Suppression sat before him like a mountain made of a hundred thousand pebbles. He could feel the three core concepts behind it, the experiences that had made it. That of Nathak, of the Dungeon, of Xys¡¯ venom. Suppression lacked the potent purity of each individual, but their coalition brought with it something else. Something intangible. Chris did not know what. He stared at it, but it seemed dormant, awaiting usage. He backed out of his center, returning to the real world where night had almost set in. He¡¯d been in the concept-space for longer than he expected. However, there was no way that he¡¯d gain something that felt so awesome and not try it out first. He raised his hand before his face and summoned his Dao around his fingers. Mana drained from him and small motes of black danced around him like gypsy smoke. He touched the darkened particles, but they slid off him like rain. Probably for the best; it was still unsatisfying though. He¡¯d have to find something to test it out on later. He took a few minutes to delve back into his center and clear mana away from his meridians¡ªhe didn¡¯t want to go all suicidal psycho again on any and all threats that presented themselves. Only after he was done did he realize that his arm¡ªhe supposed it was called Sid now¡ªhad helped itself to more of the snake lying beside it. Sid had broken through the serpent¡¯s stomach¡ªit seemed to have a fondness for internal organs¡ªand Chris found himself face to face with a stinking heap of half-digested ropes of flesh pouring from out of the ruptured organ, surrounded by small, smooth scales like glitter. Yeesh! He grimaced as the implication hit home. Those were snakes. Baby snakes. No wonder he hadn¡¯t seen any of them around¡ªdespite increased spawn rates. Xys had been consuming its own children. The smell was foul in the way that only cannibalized baby snakes stewed in stomach acid could be. Chris retched, but his stomach was empty¡ªhe¡¯d only physically eaten a sandwich and that was far earlier in the day. Small mercies. He seemed to have recovered from the whole petrification ordeal, so he stood and walked over to the tree. He¡¯d deal with Xys later, try and find a Beast Soul Gem, maybe remove its skin and scale for future armor needs. But that could wait until he found the idea of Xys performing the Chronos maneuver less sickening. A lone leaf fluttered in the breeze above his head. It was time to see what made this tree so special. Chapter 28: Harvesting The tree was not tall, but its surface was like onyx ice beneath his fingers¡ªcool, black, and slippery. Up he went, hand over foot, arms bracing around the trunk and branches to avoid sliding down and away. The higher he went, the thinner the branches became, yet they demonstrated the same rugged strength as the trunk had shown in its resistance to the serpent. Twigs half a finger wide proved as sturdy as the rungs of a ladder¡ªalbeit far more slippery. The leaf was close now, close enough to smell, but not touch. It was heady and aromatic, smoke and spice and winter¡ªthe smell of dust and icy leaves. It seemed white from a distance¡ªeven in the moonlight¡ªbut the closer he looked, the more it appeared filled with mist. The leaf was shaped like a bay laurel¡ªtwo curving sides that thickened at the center before curving back¡ªand as he pushed up toward it, he reached out for it¡ªwith his left hand of course, Sid might try to eat it, although he didn¡¯t seem so interested. A halo of power surrounded the leaf, a static field that set his fingers a-tingling. His hand closed around it and he pulled. The leaf didn¡¯t budge. He yanked at it again and almost slipped off the branch he was perched on. He repositioned himself and grabbed it with both hands, then lunged backward. The leaf held fast. However, a single drop of the tree¡¯s golden sap oozed out of the branch and slipped inside of the leaf where it began to glow. It must have been bigger on the inside than on the outside, because on the next tug, another drop entered, but did not expand the collecting golden liquid by as much as Chris expected. The next wrench drew a loud snap from the leaf and branch. The branch connecting to the leaf jerked like a firehose as sap flooded through it. The leaf¡¯s reservoir filled with gold, and the tree began to wither beneath him. The leaf¡¯s capacity seemed near limitless, because when the influx finally stopped, the tree was shrunken and disheveled beneath him, like a dried root harvested by a gigantic shaman. The previous cool glossiness of the surface had become cracked and split and broken. Chris tugged one more time, and the leaf finally came free in his hand as easily as plucking a daisy. It was too unexpected; he slipped backward, the leaf grasped firmly in his hand. He landed on the branch, and it shattered beneath him like brittle charcoal. He fell through more and more branches, black chunks of the ruined tree cascading down around him. Then he hit the ground and the air rushed out of him. There was a Chris-shaped path of destruction carved through the branches of the tree. As he gasped in a few breaths¡ªmore in surprise than pain¡ªthe black tree creaked in front of him. It was a high-pitched, mouseish sound, like two bricks of coal being rubbed together. Then the entire thing collapsed into black rubble. Chris blinked and glanced at the golden leaf in his hand, it was no longer misty white, instead golden with curling veins of illumination within it, like bright smoke within water. It gave off a tangible sense of potency, like holding a thunderbolt in a bottle. He slipped it into his pocket and the pressure faded.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. He turned to the corpse of the snake, still lying where it had fallen. Drips of slicked dust had dried against its reddish-black scales as the rainfall from earlier evaporated into the atmosphere. His hammer lay near to the hole that Sid had carved into it and the two halves of his ruined shield lay farther away. He walked forward and ran his right arm over the snake¡¯s scales. Sid didn¡¯t seem to ping up the presence of a Soul Gem inside. Disappointing, but not every monster could be a jackpot. The scales were as hard as ever when he gave them a light rap with his knuckles. He moved around to the monster¡¯s maw and examined its teeth. They were intact and still releasing a slow but steady drip of venom. He manifested his Beast Soul Weapon and with a few quick cuts removed the fangs along with a significant portion of skull. He had hoped to get the venom glands intact, but they were deeper in the serpent¡¯s skull than he had first thought¡ªby the back of the head, rather than next to the fangs themselves. More venom leaked out from the ducts connecting the glands and the fangs, but, after a few more cuts, Chris had freed those as well and tied them closed. He brought his weapon quickly along Xys¡¯ body, then vanished his blade. Leveraging his enhanced Strength, he pulled the parted scales away from raw flesh, skinning a large curl of scales the length of the snake¡¯s body free. There were several holes and rents in snakeskin, but for the most part, it was intact. He rolled it up like a carpet and then hefted it. It was heavy, but with his Strength he could manage its weight and more¡ªso he stuffed some of the blackened tree rubble inside, as well as slices of snake meat. He didn¡¯t plan on consuming it himself¡ªit might burn his throat¡ªbut Sid had no issues with eating it for him by proxy. And, who knows, it might even be useful to feed to the Slimes from the Spawning Vat. The meat had to have some value, there was a reason the System shops bought monster corpses, even if Chris didn¡¯t know what it was yet. The mist was gone by the time Chris retrieved his hammer and lumped it in with the rest of the snakeskin bundle. He pulled up a window and indicated that the Area alteration could begin. He could almost feel the mana pulse in the air around him, then go still. Nothing happened, so he kept on running back to Kingscastle, his keep. Just as he approached it, he heard another rumble and felt another pulse of mana¡ªstronger this time. He jogged up to the gates, and they swung open to greet him. He deposited his burden inside and then turned to see what was the source of the commotion. He¡¯d seen a lot since the System had dropped him here, but this was beyond what he had expected. He wouldn¡¯t have been surprised to see mountains rising, lakes forming, even the odd hill going for a little stroll. That wasn¡¯t what he saw. With surprising quiet, trees wilted and the earth cracked in random patterns, hot vapors rising up from below. That wasn¡¯t the surprising part, though. Chris¡¯ jaw practically hit the floor as huge waterfalls of green slime fell from the night sky, filling the steaming chasms that had opened up all throughout the forest. He¡¯d known that becoming the Area Guardian would increase the spawning of Slimes¡­ He hadn¡¯t expected it to do it like this. Then he heard footsteps nearby, and a familiar voice. ¡°Sir Christopher?¡± Chris turned, seeing Philip standing nearby, alone. He was part of the group that believed he was an NPC, and the one who had sent Bruce to him afterward in the time honored tradition of sharing the trolling love. He felt sort of bad about some of his actions¡ªbut more the accidental endangerment of people part, rather than the actual trolling¡ªand certainly not enough to stop him from trying to repeat the experience. ¡°Ah, Sir Philip. I fear the Princess has left Kingscastle in humiliation.¡± Chris gestured to the keep behind him, then to the deluge of green jelly from the sky. ¡°Pray, you must excuse the weather, the acid rain can be a bit hungry this time of year. I must also beseech your forgiveness for the castle being in its current diminutive state, we¡¯ve had to downsize.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Budget cuts, awfully inconvenient.¡± Chapter 29: A Worthy Quest! Chris gestured to his settlement. ¡°Please, come inside.¡± Philip followed him in, and Chris picked up the bundle he¡¯d set down, placing it inside the tower. He turned back to Philp. The man looked more haggard and tired than he had two days ago, but also determined. ¡°Please, Sir Philip, familiarize yourself with Kingscastle. I will return in several minutes. There are matters I must attend to.¡± He closed the door of the tower between and sprinted to the roof where he placed his hands on one of the settlement control pedestals. He had to see if there was a lockout option for the settlement. There was. If someone attempted to take control of his settlement through a pedestal without formally conquering the place, it would prevent them from doing so for six hours and notify him. It wasn¡¯t great, but it was better than nothing. He turned the option on. As he did so, another option appeared, one linked to his Defender¡¯s Barracks. It would prevent a takeover of Kingscastle as long as the spawned defenders were alive. The defenders wouldn¡¯t be available for two more days, but he selected the option anyway¡ªthere wasn¡¯t anything to lose by doing so. Then he brought up the settlement building menu and expanded the walls, adding in a storage area and three houses¡ªmore people might come to stay eventually, so he might as well plan for expansion. It was late, so Philip would probably have to stay the night. The buildings were cheap, since they had no major special effects. The storage area was 4,000 System Coins and had a minor protection against degradation that applied to anything stored inside, and the houses were 500 each¡ªall at the F-1 rank. That left him at just over twelve thousand System Coins. He left the building menu, then tabbed around, looking for something very particular. He found it and purchased it immediately. At 8,000 System Coins, and limited to individuals in charge of a Settlement and their representatives, the rank F-2 Quest-Giver¡¯s Interface would let him give quests to anyone with a rank F-2 body or below, and allow him to set rewards¡ªwhich he would have to supply, but which the System might supplement, depending on difficulty. It was expensive sure, but friendship was priceless¡ªit might also come in handy. He left the central keep, closing the tower door behind him and hurrying into the General Supplies Vendor before Philip noticed him. He made a quick purchase and received a large box in return. He looked inside. Perfect. He closed up the box, slipped a few things into his pocket and went to find Philip. The swordsman was staring at the Slime Spawning Vat. The pitfall beneath it that Chris was using to house the monsters for the time being was nearing capacity, and it seemed the Slimes had fused together into one larger entity that continuously attempted to scale the slippery walls. Philip continued staring, transfixed by a drip of Slime gathering at the spigot of the Spawning Vat. Chris dropped the box next to his feet, causing the swordsman to jump away, startled. Chris smiled innocently. ¡°New houses have been built. For your services in sending Sir Bruce to me, you may rest the night here. It is too late for you to return, and, as you have seen,¡± he gestured toward the torrents of slime still falling from the dark sky, ¡°the acid rain is particularly bad tonight. Climate change.¡± ¡°Thank you, Sir Christopher.¡± Philip fiddled with his hands. ¡°It is no problem. I am afraid that the houses are currently unfurnished, so I have provided you with a bed frame that you may assemble.¡± Chris pointed to the box he¡¯d dropped beside him. Philip¡¯s brow furrowed. ¡°What¡¯s the catch?¡± ¡°Pardon? I daresay I do not comprehend your implication, Sir Philip. Is something the matter?¡± ¡°This isn¡¯t some elaborate prank, is it?¡± ¡°Of course not. Here, I shall even offer you a quest to safeguard your interests. It¡¯s hardly a chivalrous deed, such as slaying rock trolls, or that performed by Steve¡ªbut it does merit some reward. It is a worthy quest, all the same.¡± He typed up a quest screen and sent it over.
Sir Christopher has offered you a Quest! (Optional ¨C Kingscastle) Construct one bed (0/1) Reward: 100 System Coins, Mattress and Blanket, One Night¡¯s Lodgings, The Hidden Treasure of Sir ChristopherThis tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Unlike System quests, the rewards that he offered needed to be displayed in advance. His surprise visitor, however, looked confused. ¡°Is everything in order, Sir Philip?¡± Philip glanced toward him, his brows pressed together. ¡°This isn¡¯t some quest where the bed is actually a metaphysical bed, right? Like in my heart, or something?¡± ¡°Would I lie to you, Sir Philip?¡± The man did not look impressed. Chris sighed. ¡°Within that box you will find all the tools you require to construct a bed. Before you are all the materials required to construct the bed itself. You may claim them when you are ready.¡± He took a cue from the system and sent a quest to help ease Philip into his new adventure.
Sir Christopher has offered you a Quest! (Optional ¨C Kingscastle) Pick up the box (0/1) Reward: Tools required for construction of one physical bed, Access to one house to construct the bed inside
Philip finally moved and picked up the box. As he completed the quest, Chris felt a thread of mana enter him, precise and controlled, but also vaguely threatening. Chris had a bad premonition of what would happen if he failed to provide the promised reward when it was requested. That wouldn¡¯t do. He quickly headed off the problem. He smiled and said, ¡°You should have all the tools you require inside that box, please select a house of your choosing to construct the bed inside.¡± As he gestured to one of the three houses, he felt the thread of mana inside him loosen its grip, but it remained in place. Philip blinked, adjusted the box in his hands and strode off to the nearest house. ¡°What about light?¡± he shouted behind him. ¡°Fear not, I shall obtain a lantern,¡± Chris called back. Chris smiled as he left, mentally wishing Philip well in his adventures with flat pack furniture. When he¡¯d visited the General Supplies Vendor earlier, he¡¯d been startled by the sheer abundance of products on display. And among those were unassembled beds. This particular model was a fairly standard bed, if you ignored the fact that it was designed to be assembled by a race with four arms. He was sure Philip would manage, though, Chris had the utmost faith in him. After all, he had all the tools needed to make that bed¡ªeven if he was lacking two extra limbs. Chris grinned as he thrust a hand into his pocket and pulled out a couple of screws. Now, the materials needed to make the bed, he might have accidentally mislaid some of those. He strolled back into the General Supplies Vendor to buy a lantern for Philip. After a short moment¡¯s hesitation, he also bought a beginner¡¯s guide to alchemy, some reagents, a collapsible table and chair, and an alchemical stand, burner, and retort. Might as well do something while he watched his guest struggle with assembling furniture. Alchemy seemed like a safe bet, given how useful healing potions were. All he needed was meatballs, he suspected he¡¯d have the whole Ikea experience¡ªimpossible to assemble furniture, and some strange guy trying to turn meatballs into gold in some forgotten corner. When he entered the house that Philip had selected, it was as dark as he expected. Thankfully, the lantern ran off a magical power source. He pressed his thumb to the base and directed a smidgeon of mana into it. The room was filled with light¡ªlacking the flicker and hazy waver of a candle. Philip was sitting on the box in the middle of the room and rose to accept the lantern, then flipped open the lid of the flat-packed bed box. He pulled out the assembly schematic first, looked it up and down, then removed the pouch of screws and a few of the timbers¡ªhelpfully arranged in order of assembly. He consulted the schematic again, then stared up at Chris accusingly. ¡°Why do the instructions show four arms.¡± Chris shrugged, he was already in the process of setting up his alchemy station. If in doubt, repeat dialogue. ¡°You should have all the tools you require inside that box, please select a house of your choosing to construct the bed inside.¡± ¡°But it shows four arms.¡± ¡°You should have all the tools you require inside that box, please select a house of your choosing to construct the bed inside.¡± ¡°Come on, I know you¡¯re trolling.¡± Chris looked up, weighing up his options. Was Philip bluffing? Well, he could bluff too. As mechanically as he could, he spoke, ¡°Invalid word used. Locally allocated resources exceeded. Please complete quest to assign unit more processing power.¡± ¡°Yeah, game¡¯s up dude. I¡¯m onto you.¡± ¡°Response not found. Please complete quest to assign unit more processing power.¡± ¡°Yeah, cool beans. Drop the act.¡± ¡°Response not found, locally allocated resources critically exceeded. Initiating purge of quest database, initiating catastrophic meltdown of unit. Fifteen minutes to catastrophic meltdown. Please exceed blast radius calculated at thirty miles, survivable for Constitutions of 10 and above.¡± Chris looked straight ahead, schooling his face. There was no way Philip could run at two miles a minute. ¡°Yeah, gig¡¯s up, dude. Not falling for this.¡± Philip smirked back at him. ¡°Go ahead, blow yourself¡ª¡± Chris let a small drip of Slime materialize at his fingertip, then fall to the ground. The green goop steamed as it hit the floor. ¡°Response not found. Locally allocated resources catastrophically exceeded. Nine and a half minutes until catastrophic meltdown. Please exceed blast radius calculated at fifty miles, survivable for Constitutions of 10 and above.¡± Philip¡¯s jaw went slack as he looked disbelievingly between the acidic goo on the floor and Chris¡¯ neutral expression. Chris went back to studying alchemy as, eyes wide, Philip threw himself toward the nearest piece of unassembled furniture and began piecing it together at a record pace. When he was sure his new builder wasn¡¯t looking, Chris allowed himself to crack a smile. He let another blob of Slime sizzle against the stone floor. Philip looked over at it and cursed, then began constructing the flat pack furniture even faster, swearing under his breath. There really was nothing like the threat of a nuclear apocalypse to properly motivate your employees. Chapter 30: A Hidden Treasure Chris sat on his collapsible chair, alchemical equipment and supplies spread out on the table before him. He hummed, and flicked through the pages of the alchemy book, as Philip slammed pieces of wood together as fast as he could. The construction of the bed was disappointingly similar to a human bed¡ªalthough there were a few parts where it differed, such as requiring two screws to be fitted at once in several places. The words coming from the man¡¯s mouth would make a sailor blush, so Chris guessed he was at one of those points. He continued reading through the alchemy book, it was actually quite interesting stuff. Most materials, including body parts of races¡ªmonster and Enlightened¡ªhad various properties at various strengths. By adding or removing certain materials, you could exacerbate or diminish certain properties. What made it an art instead of a science was that each material had multiple properties, some beneficial, others uniquely and excruciatingly harmful. At its most basic, alchemy was modifying reagents to increase the beneficial effects, while leaving the harmful ones unaltered¡ªwhich made consumption of too many potions extremely dangerous, especially multiple types of potions, because mixing deleterious effects could have a multiplicative effect on the damage caused. At higher proficiencies, it was possible to decrease or remove harmful effects entirely, and at truly exceptional levels even reverse some of the harmful effects, turning them into something transcendental. Of course, if a reagent was particularly potent, it would be harder to mitigate its disadvantageous properties. The reagents typically had to be suspended in an inert, magically receptive liquid, then treated in a particular way¡ªwhether that be boiled, frozen, distilled, imbued with mana, meditated over, or a thousand other combinations. Then, it had to be¡ª ¡°There¡¯s some screws missing. I can¡¯t finish.¡± ¡°Response found, escalation mitigated. Locally allocated resources catastrophically exceeded. Two minutes and twelve seconds until catastrophic meltdown. Providing response,¡± Chris droned. ¡°You should have all the tools you require inside that box, please select a house of your choosing to construct the bed inside.¡± He let a few drips of Slime fall to the ground for good measure. A wave of obscenity that would make the Devil cover his daughter¡¯s ears rushed out of Philip¡¯s mouth. There had to be sewers filled with goblin shit that were less filthy than some of the vileness that came out of the man¡¯s mouth. Chris¡¯ composure broke and he let out a snort; the noise was followed by a fake spasm as Philip¡¯s eyes snapped toward him. Chris ejected a generous helping of Slime onto the floor as he flailed. Philip apparently assumed that the smile on his face was some sort of symptom of NPC protocol failure, because he threw himself back into work, trying to find the missing screws. They were nowhere to be found. ¡°One minute thirty seconds until catastrophic meltdown.¡± Philip wasn¡¯t even swearing now. Desperately he cast his gaze around, then stared at the box that housed the bed. With his sword he cut splinters from it and began stuffing bundles of shaved lengths of wood into the remaining screw holes, propping the bed up as he did so. ¡°One minute until catastrophic meltdown.¡± Philip worked faster, at a truly blazing speed, huffing and puffing as he went.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. ¡°Thirty seconds until catastrophic meltdown.¡± Philip had one more piece to fit together. He wouldn¡¯t make it in time; not if he had to get more wood splinters. He looked around frantically, but there was nothing nearby. Chris hid his smirk behind his book, not even reading as he watched the greatest show on Earth. If Philip ever found out about his trolling, he would kill him¡ªno doubt, no need for a quest. At least it seemed as if Philip hadn¡¯t received the ¡°Defeat Christopher Hill¡± Area Guardian quest; it had to have been something similar to how he got the quest for Xys, only activating when the quester realized that the thing coiled around the tree was a monster. Wait, it had been fifteen seconds, right? ¡°Fifteen seconds until catastrophic meltdown.¡± Philip whirled around, sword in hand, looking for one final screw, face pale, eyes wide. ¡°Ten seconds until catastrophic meltdown.¡± There was a wooden thunk, like an axe hitting wood. Then another. Philip seemed to have given up, taking to hacking at the bed he probably expected to be his downfall. Chris readied himself to intervene, just in case Philip couldn¡¯t finish in time. ¡°Five seconds until catastrophic meltdown. Four. Three. Two¡ª¡± ¡°I¡¯m done.¡± Chris felt another thread of controlled mana enter him, ready to register the delivery of the rewards or exact consequences. He lowered his book slowly, forcing his facial muscles into rigid obedience. The bed was completed, standing unstably on its own four legs. Holding the last two pieces together was a sword, hacked deep into the wooden frame. ¡°Quest completion confirmed. Locally allocated resources exceeded. Rectifying. Increased processing power assigned to unit. Analyzing word: trolling. Response found.¡± Chris stopped. Philip looked at him expectantly, puffing and panting, hands braced against his knees as if he would keel over at any moment. With slow solemnity, Chris spoke, ¡°Good Sir Philip, I would never consider trolling you.¡± Not waiting to see the man¡¯s response, he dog-eared his alchemy book and closed it, set it down, stood from his chair, and walked out the door.
He returned five minutes later, after he¡¯d gotten the laughter out of his system, and bought a mattress and blanket from the General Supplies Vendor for Philip¡¯s reward. He strolled in through the door as if he hadn¡¯t driven his guest to the verge of a breakdown only five minutes ago. The guest in question was sitting on the chair, shaking, staring at his hands as they trembled. ¡°Congratulations, Sir Philip, you are hereby deemed worthy of staying the night in Kingscastle. Here is your reward.¡± Chris pushed forward the mattress and blanket. Philip accepted them numbly. Chris wondered how to send him System Coins, he needn¡¯t have worried. A mental push was all it took before 100 System Coins found themselves deposited in Philip¡¯s own account. Never had a reward been so well earned. He had stopped a nuclear-ish sort-of-apocalypse. At that, Philip looked up, still pale. ¡°You know, a metaphysical treasure like a bed wouldn¡¯t be so bad right now.¡± Chris shook his head. ¡°I shall not hear of it. Your efforts have proven you the most gallant of knights. But all knights need armor. I must go retrieve a fine set for you. Never again will you strike an ungauntleted thumb when hammering nails.¡± He left, going to the System Armor Vendor, where he bought a suit of plate mail made of the same silvery gray metal as his own hammer. The suit cost 1,600 System Coins. It was an entirely unnecessary purchase, he was not obligated to give it to Philip, but he felt sort of bad about the prank. He also genuinely didn¡¯t want Philip to die. He returned and delivered the armor to Philip, who accepted it with mumbled shell shocked thanks. He looked up. ¡°The quest¡¯s not disappearing. It¡¯s not complete.¡± Chris grinned wide. ¡°You have not received the true hidden treasure. Please, accept this. My hidden treasure, the Pouch of Memories.¡± He pulled out a small trinket bag tied on a loop of twine. ¡°What does it do?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a pouch in which good memories are stored. Open it.¡± The quest completed as Philip grabbed the pouch and poured five screws from inside into his palm. His gaze darted between them and the bed; he blinked, then balled his hand into a fist, knuckles going white. ¡°You have got to be fucking with me.¡± Chapter 31: Hartshire Chris looked at him levelly. ¡°Good Sir Philip, I would never consider trolling you. Sleep well.¡± Without a backward glance, and without heed toward his guest¡¯s splutters, Chris placed the lantern on the floor for Philip, then gathered his things and strode out the door. He stopped by the Spawning Vat and gave the spigot a twist, preventing it from spawning any more slimes¡ªthere were almost too many, he didn¡¯t want them spilling out. Wanting to test something out, he set his alchemy materials aside and thrust his hand into the pitfall in which the Slime had gathered. A pseudopod of Slime met his arm, then was absorbed into his fingers. The fatigue he¡¯d felt from shedding Slime, while convincing Philip he was about to explode, disappeared with abruptness. He felt good as the flow of Slime into him slowed, then halted entirely. He waggled his fingers, feeling refreshed. The Slimes inside the pit hadn¡¯t burnt his skin, so he put his other hand in. Sticky gooeyness cohered to his fingers, feeling like aloe vera, but doing little else. Cool. They probably counted as friendly to him and maybe other humans, although it was possible that his entire body had gained some measure of acid resistance. He heard a crash from inside Philip¡¯s house, probably as the only piece of furniture inside collapsed. Smiling, Chris withdrew his hand from the Slimes and walked back to his Keep as a fresh stream of curses came from Philip. On his way, he stopped to buy a new shield, a suit of silvery gray plate armor, and of course a lantern and mattress¡ªhis keep wasn¡¯t exactly furnished either. It took two trips to get everything in place, but once it was done, he stripped, laying his mattress on the floor beside his armor, then went to sleep.
He rose, bright and early, to sunlight spilling in through a narrow window set high up in the wall. He donned his armor, cleared his meridians of mana, and strolled outside. A quick trip to the General Supplies Vendor yielded a sandwich magicked out of thin air, and the discovery that Philip was just waking up as well. The rain of the previous day was nowhere to be seen and Chris decided to take his alchemy supplies outside to work on as Philip got ready. He¡¯d been tired last night¡ªnot too tired to troll the poor man, but still tired. What was he even doing out here? Why? He settled down, adding a few of the reagents he¡¯d prepared the previous day to the potion suspension solution. A dash of something called olear powder, a pinch of carbon, and grain of salt, then a mote of mana into the heating pad integrated into the retort. It was one of the simpler recipes in the alchemy book, an astringent cleaning solution that was good for cleaning metal, and less good for drinking. He poured it over his hammer, watching caked dirt and blood slide off the surface, splattering against the floor in a murky sludge that aggregated dirt and dust on the road into balls of black tar that quickly hardened. He kicked them into the Slime pit. He began a new potion¡ªa minor Perception enhancer. This time, the recipe was more complex and required a longer wait until it was prepared. He summoned his Dao, and black wisps manifested around his hand, with a corresponding drain on mana. He raised his hammer, then tried concentrating the Dao of Suppression in the head. Languidly, the black energy concentrated around the head, too sparse to cover it completely. He gave the weapon a swing. The motes of darkness outlined the hammer¡¯s trajectory like an afterimage, before gathering back around the weapon. He wanted to test it out more, but his mana was getting low. With some reluctance, he let his Dao fade, then checked his Status.
Name Christopher Hill
Level 18
Class None
Race Hybrid: Human (F-2), Slime (F-2)
Cultivation Troll (F-1)
Dao Suppression (Black-Foundation)
Traits Human Potential, Monster Hybrid, Monstrous Constitution, Monstrous Assimilation, Amorphous, Stone Form
Titles Genesis of Blood, Prime Underdog, Agent of Self-destruction, Prince of Poison, Makeshift Master, Prodigy, Legendary Prodigy, Unrivalled Prodigy, Horde Disciple I, Xenocidal, Infiltrator, Anomaly Breaker I, Rift Scion, Surpasser, Area Guardian I
System Coins 343
Strength 83
Dexterity 99
Constitution 96
Endurance 79
Intelligence 78
Wisdom 74
Perception 73
Luck 107
He was nearing Level 20¡ªtwo more levels to go¡ªwhich meant that it was almost time to hand in that quest. Still, it might take some time, it was becoming increasingly difficult to level with each new height he attained.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. There was also information beside his Dao¡ªBlack and Foundation. He had no clue what that meant, but it probably had something to do with rank, probably graded by color rather than alphabetically, and with various stages starting at Foundation. He had no idea how it would end. Gold-Super-Saiyan or something? He was definitely at the bottom rank of it though. His Dao had none of the clarity of any of the three constituents that had combined to form. He assumed that was the System drawing on his experiences and fleshing them out to solidify his Dao. However, now that he actually had it, it felt flimsy and weak¡ªa thought without much substance. Its previous incarnation in his center seemed like a distant memory to him. It would seem that his Dao was something that he would have to develop on his own. It had something to do with the strength of images, understanding, and conceptualization, but he wasn¡¯t certain he knew how to deepen his comprehension of something like Suppression¡ªit felt so abstract. He¡¯d also need a victim to test it out on. He glanced over to Philip¡¯s house, then mentally scolded himself for even thinking such a thing. He¡¯d only use him as a test subject if he couldn¡¯t find a monster to use his Dao on. He had considered using the Slime pit, but there were hundreds, if not thousands of the monsters inside, he might not be able to fully distinguish the effects, especially since they were trapped in one big puddle of goo. Philip chose that moment to leave the house, outfitted in his new plate mail. Chris looked up at him, then down at his potion attempt. He cursed. The mixture had been heated for too long while he¡¯d been distracted. Instead of a robin¡¯s egg blue, it was now a much darker, sludgy concoction that looked like it could be used in roadbuilding. The Slimes shrank away as he poured the failed potion into their pit, then collected the rest of his equipment and dumped it just inside the door of his keep. He turned to see Philip waiting. ¡°Sir Philip, may I help you? You never informed me what brought you here.¡± ¡°We might need your help, Sir Christopher. It¡¯s not urgent, but we might need it all the same.¡± ¡°Very well, I will consider it. And how did you find this place?¡± ¡°Someone found the Hartshire Map Hall yesterday; broke in through a window. It showed your location, but until recently we were unable to get here because of those red skinned, bat faced monsters.¡± ¡°The demons.¡± Chris nodded, silently noting that at least some settlements must have certain buildings added to them automatically. Maybe Nathak got stone walls, while Hartshire got wooden ones and a map hall. Interesting. ¡°What brings you to this place?¡± ¡°Monsters were spotted nearby, humanoid hyenas. They haven¡¯t done anything, and no one has gone missing since I was last there, but it has people worried. You¡¯re the strongest¡ª¡± Philip paused just as his mouth began to form the first letter of ¡®NPC¡¯, ¡°person we know, and we thought there might be a garrison here. We could take out the demons by baiting them close to the shield around Hartshire, but these new monsters keep their distance.¡± ¡°Is Hartshire not protected?¡± ¡°It is, but the N¡ª the native guards are all Level 15. One of them has a skill. [Insightful Gaze]. Called them Plains Gnolls. Said that they were all at least Level 13 at the lowest, and some of them were unable to be identified.¡± Chris thought back to when he was shopping for skills. Didn¡¯t that mean that one of the monsters had an high ranked body? That wouldn¡¯t be good if it was the case. Had upgrading the rank of the Area also increased the strength of some of the monsters nearby? He cast his mind to the other thing that Philip had said. ¡°Do you have a Defender¡¯s Barracks? You mentioned native guards.¡± ¡°A what?¡± ¡°A building with beds in it. They have timers on them.¡± ¡°No, nothing like that. We checked most of the buildings after we discovered the Map Hall. The guards were just already there.¡± Philip¡¯s face scrunched up into a frown. ¡°Yes, Sir Philip?¡± ¡°There was one building. Locked. It gives a quest to the anyone who tries to open the door: Kill the guardsto become Settlement Leader.It also said that killing the guards would remove Starter Protections.¡± Chris¡¯ gaze sharpened. ¡°Tell me. Are you protecting the guards and the door?¡± ¡°Yes, but there¡¯s a problem with that too. No one¡¯s touched the door since we started guarding it. But we talked with the guards, even if they don¡¯t talk much. There used to be five of them, there¡¯s only four left now.¡± Chris rubbed his forehead. Someone was making a bid to become Settlement Leader. ¡°What happened to him?¡± ¡°One of the¡­ guys who got transported here asked the guard to escort him to hunt in the forest. The guard didn¡¯t return.¡± ¡°Who with?¡± Chris¡¯ mind whirled. If they had a Defender¡¯s Barracks, the guard might be about to respawn. That didn¡¯t seem likely, given that the System had put a hit out on the Hartshire guards in the form of a quest. ¡°We don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°When did the guard go missing?¡± ¡°Six days ago. Almost seven.¡± Chris went still. ¡°Are you sure? Not,¡± he counted on his fingers, ¡°three days ago?¡± ¡°By noon, we¡¯ll have been here for seven days.¡± The blood drained from Chris¡¯ face. How long had he been in that Dungeon for? Chapter 32: Beast Horde The Beast Horde was coming to Hartshire. What had felt like several hours in the Dungeon had been closer to four days. Maybe there was an inherent delay to portal travel, or maybe it was a dimension that ran at a different speed. There was a week left until Starter Protections went down, but this Beast Horde would bypass that. The Beast Horde was allegedly weakened at Level 13, it didn¡¯t sound that way. This one was already precarious, if the next was stronger it would be a slaughter. Chris jogged through the trees as Philip struggled to keep up with him. It wasn¡¯t the swordsman¡¯s fault that he was so slow as he clunked and clattered his way forward in his new armor, but the dexterity differential was making things difficult. Chris turned, adjusting his hammer and shield in his grip. ¡°I¡¯ll carry you.¡± ¡°I can run.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll be too late.¡± Chris reckoned he could handle jogging with a payload. Philip shied away, but Chris chased after him and scooped the man up. His new burden struggled a bit, but, as Chris picked up the pace, his complaints quietened. They were moving quicker. The trees became a slow blur as he ran and soon the forest faded out to the rolling hill and plain that surrounded Hartshire. Ahead, he saw Plains Gnolls amassing, swarming around the edges of the Starter Protections¡¯ barrier. A quest appeared before Chris¡¯ eyes.
New Quests! (Optional ¨C Monster) Join a Beast Horde (0/1)
He envisioned himself joining the horde of hyena monsters. More screens appeared.
Quest Completed! Join a Beast Horde (1/1) Reward: Beast Horde Protections
New Quest! (Optional ¨C Monster) Conquer Tutorial Town #734701 (Hartshire) (0/1) (Optional ¨C Monster ¨C Variable Reward) Defeat Enlightened (Human) (0/X)
Yeah¡­ no. He wasn¡¯t intending on doing those two quests. Chris kept on running, focusing back on the barrier. There was something odd there. At the very edge were hundreds of humans. They stood just inside the barrier, safe from the claws and teeth that tried to bury themselves in soft and tender skin. As he drew closer, he saw the humans were actually striking at the Gnolls with weapons. The barrier didn¡¯t hinder them as their weapons sent fur and flesh flying. The monsters were falling quickly, but there had to be thousands of them. They surrounded the tutorial town, hemming the humans in as more of the creatures washed against the barrier, creating honeycomb ripples of golden light whenever they pressed against it. When they died they fell through as if nothing had ever impeded them. The bodies were dragged away and stacked in a heap like kindling. He felt Philip struggle above him. He¡¯d finally turned around and seen the horde. ¡°Let me down, we can¡¯t get in.¡± ¡°Your concern is noted, Sir Philip. Trust me, your safety is my priority.¡± Chris adjusted his grip on the swordsman, lifting him over his head. It was difficult while holding his weapons. ¡°I will require you to hold my arms while I do so.¡± Philip clutched his forearms tightly. ¡°My hammer and shield, Sir Philip.¡± Chris gave a low chuckle. That one hadn¡¯t been intentional. ¡°Oh.¡± Philip relieved Chris of his weapons, then was hoisted high into the air. Chris felt him tense in his hands as he braced him high above and resumed running toward the Beast Horde. The Gnolls were loud, hissing and screaming and cackling with gleeful, sadistic abandon. The creatures were considerably shorter than him, so his payload was probably safe. He was in armor anyway. What could go wrong? He prepared to push through the horde like an icebreaker through arctic waters, but the monsters¡¯ eyes snapped to him the moment he approached. They glared at the man held above his head, but the moment they saw him, they gave a low hiss and pulled back, gazes down and eyes averted.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Area Guardian bonuses? Cool! He wondered if it was a standard thing, or just because he had joined the Beast Horde. He¡¯d need to find out later, but this wasn¡¯t the time to recount his blessings. He approached the barrier as the Gnolls parted around him. They stank of filth and unwashed fur. Flies flitted around them in a persistent droning, buzzing cloud. He struggled not to gag as he set Philip down inside the barrier. He let his finger brush lightly against its outside as he did so. A few golden hexagons manifested around his hand, but the other humans¡¯ view of them was blocked by Philip¡¯s body. A screen flared to life before him.
Monsters may not approach Tutorial Town #734701 (Hartshire) until Starter Protections expire (7 00:25:02 (DD HH:MM:SS)) To enter the Tutorial Town before Starter Protections expire, join the Beast Horde when it gathers (0 00:25:02)
Twenty-five minutes left. Philip looked up at him, finally comfortable enough in the safety of the barrier to speak. ¡°Why aren¡¯t they attacking you?¡± Chris considered telling him that he was a monster then, the stakes were getting higher, and what had been an amusing prank was beginning to turn into a lie. Still, he was unsure. He looked around at the humans stabbing and slashing into the Gnolls, they didn¡¯t look scared, even though they should be. They seemed excited. Mana, it had to be. Their movements were clumsy, their strikes needing to fall multiple times to deal a fatal blow, but still he could see the fire in their eyes. The way in which they stared at the monsters as if they were a gift from heaven delivered straight into their laps. They believed the System was there to give them the strength they needed and to keep the creatures away from them as it did so. Had he been like that? Would he have killed someone if he learned they were a monster. Xys had had the tree for camouflage. Was pretending to not be a monster, to instead be something almost human, something almost real¡­ was that his own camouflage? He¡¯d only gotten a quest when he realized Xys¡¯ coiled form around the tree was in fact a monster. Would they get a quest when they found out too? Would they be able to resist? Not with their mana the way it was, no. Twenty-four minutes. ¡°Why aren¡¯t they attacking you?¡± Philip repeated. Chris looked away. ¡°This is not my fight.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not helping us?¡± a woman who¡¯d been standing nearby piped up. ¡°This is your test. A word of warning. The barrier will fail in twenty-four minutes. Return to your town before it does.¡± ¡°Wait. What?¡± Philip pushed himself to his feet, leaving Chris¡¯ weapons on the ground. ¡°Yeah, what the hell dude. Did you come here just to deliver one of us like a pi¡ª¡± ¡°NO!¡± Philip shouted over the woman. She turned to stare at him. ¡°You can¡¯t do that,¡± Philip explained. He leaned over to whisper in her ear, unaware that Chris could still hear him, ¡°He¡¯s an NPC. It¡¯s complicated, imagine you¡¯re roleplaying with a voice activated bomb. Don¡¯t use weird words or there¡¯s a risk he might explode. His programming seems pretty robust, but it¡¯s best not to risk it. Also, don¡¯t accept any quests from him, he¡¯s one of those NPCs the devs use to troll people. And don¡¯t ask him if he¡¯s trolling. Oh shit, I need to tell Gregor.¡± Chris waited patiently, wondering who Gregor was. The woman looked over at him as Philip rushed off to spread the word. ¡°You¡¯re certain about this? Why won¡¯t you help us. They¡¯re obviously afraid of you.¡± Chris paused, considering whether to maintain the fa?ade. A limited amount of the truth wouldn¡¯t hurt. Right? ¡°The System has granted me immunity while I delivered Sir Philip and this message. To attack these monsters would forfeit that.¡± It was the truth, most of it anyway. ¡°Surely you can help us somehow?¡± ¡°I am afraid n¡ª¡± Chris stopped. Was that true? ¡°What is your name?¡± ¡°Clary.¡± ¡°Well, Lady Clary, I might just be able to do something. Just one thing, can you pass me my shield and hammer.¡± He pointed to the items he¡¯d given Philip to carry. ¡°Thank you, Lady Clary. While I am busy, please have some people bring the bodies of the monsters closer to the barrier. I require proximity to sense what I seek.¡± He took hold of his weapons and began to circle the perimeter, holding out his right arm like a dowsing rod. It didn¡¯t take more than ten steps until he found the first. His hand tried to ooze through his gauntlets to consume the core inside, but he quelled it. Using his strength, he tore apart the body, pulling free the Beast Soul Gem inside.
Beast Soul Gem Type: Weapon Rank: F-1
He tugged off his gauntlet and pulled the energy of the crystal into himself. Then he manifested the weapon. In his hands he held a sleek and simple javelin. He¡¯d keep that one. He moved through the ranks of the Beast Horde, picking through corpses and tossing the Gems over to the humans inside, instructing them on how to use the crystals¡ªfirst pulling the gem inside themselves, and then connecting the mana in their center to the crystal. The second stage was harder, since most hadn¡¯t reached Level 10 and obtained the mana manual, but soon he saw humans manifesting javelins across the line; fur armor; hide shields; he even saw a human lash out with strangely pointed claws as he used a Beast Soul Cultivation Technique. The Gnolls had a surprisingly high number of Soul Gems inside them¡ªcompared to the demons that gave nothing. Was this Beast Horde meant to arm and equip people inside settlements? If so, that was surprisingly generous of the System. He tapped the barrier inconspicuously once more.
Monsters may not approach Tutorial Town #734701 (Hartshire) until Starter Protections expire (7 00:04:11 (DD HH:MM:SS)) To enter the Tutorial Town before Starter Protections expire, join the Beast Horde when it gathers (0 00:04:11)
¡°Four minutes,¡± he bellowed. ¡°Get back to the town. The barrier is falling.¡± People began to stream back to the town, but at the far end it seemed that word hadn¡¯t yet spread. Chris sprinted around, the Horde parting before him. Three minutes. Two. They were within earshot, but now he knew for certain they would not make it back to the town in time. He flicked the barrier. One minute. Chapter 33: A Thousand Claws ¡°Get back, the barrier¡¯s going down! Now!¡± Chris shouted. They were only five hundred meters away from the town, but that was still a long way to go in a minute, even if some of them had invested minorly in dexterity. People began streaming back toward Hartshire. Hopefully the head start would get them all there safely. The gates were open by an infinitesimal margin, letting people slip inside. Ropes and tied bedsheets were lowered from the wooden walls, allowing the more nimble and fit people to pull themselves up. It was like watching an evacuation in reverse. Chris tapped his finger against the barrier again. Fifteen seconds. Most were only halfway there, some lagged even farther behind. Was that Bruce? His clothes were ragged and torn, but otherwise he looked okay. His katana was bent out of shape and looked to be in very bad condition. Yeah, that had to be Bruce. He wasn¡¯t going to make it. Chris winced. Was that his fault? If he hadn¡¯t trolled him, would Bruce have been faster? Better able to escape the approaching hyena monsters? If he hadn¡¯t killed Xys, would the monsters have been this strong? Bruce wobbled his way forward. ¡°Shit. Shit. Shit.¡± Chris didn¡¯t know how fast the Gnolls were, only that they were faster. The barrier went down. He sprinted forward. ¡°Bruce! Run. No! Keep running.¡± Chris kept pace with the fat kid. ¡°Sir Chr¡ª¡± Bruce gasped as he ran. ¡°Sir Christopher. I found that treasure in the glade.¡± ¡°What? No. Keep running.¡± Chris looked behind him. Damn! Gnolls were fast, they were gaining on them. ¡°Wait, I¡¯ll carry you.¡± Without giving Bruce time to protest, he scooped him up. The kid was heavy, but he kept on running. They neared the walls, but ahead of him the last few were already trickling in. ¡°That trick you showed me was real useful, Sir Christopher,¡± Bruce gasped. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you could bait mobs in this game.¡± ¡°Not now, Bruce.¡± Chris glared down at the overweight teenager in his arms. ¡°Should have put more points into dex and endurance, though. But I¡¯m ready to become your squire. Hey, do you know how to use those Soul Gems? Oh, and Qi?¡± ¡°I said shut¡ª¡± Chris almost stopped running. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Those things inside the rock trolls. I got it into my hand, but I couldn¡¯t get it out. And I¡¯ve got Qi, just like in those Chinese novels.¡± Of course Bruce read Chinese novels. He had a katana. Katana¡¯s were Chinese right? Or were they just made in China? Either way, it should have been obvious that Bruce was an Orientophile. He¡¯d need to ask Bruce about them later. If this followed Chinese novel rules then there might be weird stuff going on¡ªthe authors of those sorts of books were insane after all. There was no time to think further. Chris could feel the Gnoll¡¯s saliva flecking his heels, their barks and growls and cackling laughter pursuing him. They wouldn¡¯t make it in time. He could run alone. Toss Bruce to the baying hyenas. They wouldn¡¯t hurt him anyway, not unless he attacked them, he suspected. The monsters seemed bloodthirsty now. They hung back from him, still seemingly intimidated by his status as an Area Guardian. But by the look in their eyes, the prospect of blood and meat was tantalizing. Too tantalizing to ignore.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. And Bruce. He wasn¡¯t a bad kid. Chris had already tried to save him. Putting him back down would feel like giving up. But fear gnawed at the back of his mind, insistent and urgent. There was nothing he could do to save Bruce. He would die either way. Whether Chris abandoned him, or carried him. Bruce would die at the hyena¡¯s claws. Why was he even running? Bruce had been dead the moment he started running late. Death was just catching up to him. Chris knew he wasn¡¯t a hero. To be honest, he was a bit of a dick. But Bruce wasn¡¯t a bad kid. He was a little bit too innocent, a few stone too heavy, and far too gullible for his own good. And even though fear gnawed at him, guilt tore hungering bites from his wounded conscience. ¡°You know, Bruce. I really hate you right now,¡± Chris growled. ¡°Pull a thread of M¡ª Qi, from your center, ignore the seven black holes. Imagine pulling it to the tattoos of the crystals. Then push mana into them.¡± ¡°Uh, are you sure¡­¡± ¡°Just fucking do it. You¡¯re on your own. You¡¯d better pray what you have helps you run to the walls quicker.¡± ¡°But¡ª¡± ¡°Run. Grab a rope. Start climbing.¡± Chris sighed, and put the teenager down on his feet. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, man,¡± he said, too quiet for anyone but himself to hear. Bruce ran. Chris knew he wasn¡¯t a hero. To be honest, he was a bit of a dick. But Bruce wasn¡¯t a bad kid. If there was one thing he knew how to do well, it was be an idiot. He didn¡¯t have a heroic bone in his body. To be honest, he didn¡¯t need one. He unconstrained his mana, forcefully pushing it out, letting it wash over him. It was worse than a simple leakage that came from mere overspill. It was hubris, potency, the distillation of inviolability itself. ¡°Fuck you, Bruce,¡± he screamed, then swung his hammer around, right into the face of a Gnoll as it leapt past him in pursuit of the tubby human. The entire Beast Horde paused and stared at him. Chris¡¯ Beast Horde Protections were gone, and somehow they knew it. There were hundreds of them, thousands of them, all unified by a single purpose, a single race, a single promise of safety by the System. Even to the atavism of the monster mind, such protections were law. And they had been violated. By an Area Guardian no less; by something that looked and smelled almost human.
The minor Gnoll clans had gathered to grow stronger, unified by the System in the holy duty to destroy the town before them. From across the world it had brought them, reduced them further so that they might grow. Over a thousand claws¡ªtwenty teeth¡ªof Gnolls. The round, short human was forgotten by most. A grander prize awaited those brave enough to take it. A young warrior, barely a pup, the runt of a litter, driven by a desire for something greater dashed forward, eager for glory and dominion. His claws, more used to holding a blade, stretched toward the almost-human¡¯s shining carapace. The warrior¡¯s head met a solid slab of metal from the almost-human¡¯s upswing. Dead. So fast. So powerful. But the glory! The Glory! The minor Gnoll clans surged forward as one. With a manic gleam in its eyes, the Area Guardian¡ªthe almost-human¡ªcalled out its war cry once more.
¡°Fuck you, Bruce!¡± Chris batted away three bodies at once with his hammer. The Plains Gnolls were fast and tough, but they were physically quite light¡ªmaybe their bodies compensating with reduced weight to make more use of their scrawny musculature. It was like a game of whack-a-mole. Hmmm, whack-a-gnoll? It had a good ring to it. They went down like tin-can baseballs before the batter, flying away, blood bursting from their bodies as they crumpled. They hadn¡¯t fully encircled him yet, and he risked a glance behind him; Bruce had already reached the wall, grasping at a hastily lowered rope that seemed to have been made of ripped and tied-together curtains. Chris began taking steps backward, preventing himself from encirclement. More Gnolls lunged at him, and more went down. His stats were just too high for the low-level Gnolls to compete with. Out of the corner of his eye, far away he saw a larger Gnoll thrusting its way through the throng toward him. He knew exactly what that was. Bad news. He sped up his retreat. Then he heard a tearing sound; a brief, short cry; a thud. He turned. Bruce. The rope had torn. The Gnolls were too close. Even fixated on killing him, the Area Guardian, they were still creatures of vicious opportunity first and foremost. One rounded on Bruce, intent on skewering him on its claws as it passed him by. Chris threw his hammer. It spun toward the creature. The monster ducked in surprise and the hammer passed over its head, slamming into the wall with a wooden rattle and knocking divots from the finely grained surface. The thrown shield didn¡¯t miss. It embedded itself halfway into the Gnoll¡¯s torso as Chris raced past, picking up the disoriented Bruce and tossing him upward. Bruce yelped as he sailed up, up, up. The teenager clung firm to the remaining tatters of torn, makeshift rope that dangled uselessly from the walls. The rope stretched. The rope held. Moments later, more ropes were dropped to steady Bruce. Chris¡¯ back hit the wall. He didn¡¯t see the teenager make it over the edge, didn¡¯t see two dozen hands pull Bruce up and over, didn¡¯t see the kid gasping on his back¡ªsurprised to be alive. All Chris saw was matted fur, flashing claws, and decaying teeth as dozens of Gnolls piled onto him and bore him down. And, dear god, he was going to fucking kill them. Chapter 34: Wrecking Ball Chris was going to die. He¡¯d tried everything. His Beast Soul Weapon, the one shaped like a khopesh on a pole, which he had dubbed the Beastblade since having two Beast Soul Weapons would make things confusing¡­ His Beastblade would not summon inside the tomb of living creatures that bore down on him. He got the same story from his newly acquired javelin. And even if he did, he didn¡¯t know what came next. There was no room to swing a cat, much less a javelin. [Danger Sense] was going off all around him, so he was forced to turn the skill off or risk draining his limited mana supply. The Dao of Suppression did nothing, it lifted off his fingers, cohering to the bodies of the Gnolls, but little else. He was buried beneath an increasing weight of dirty, stinking bodies, the claws of the Gnolls scrabbling against his armor, teeth closing around metal before sudden release and reattachment. He was going to die. Not even the overwhelming feelings of power from his unchained mana was enough to shake that conviction. More and more frequently, the Gnolls¡¯ claws found exposed areas of flesh; only the close-packed quarters and the solid density of Chris¡¯ body prevented them from sinking deeper. Small mercies, if a death by a thousand cuts could be considered a mercy. He struggled with the futility of the unwillingly and inescapably doomed, and as he wriggled around, trying to extricate himself from a living tomb of talon and tooth, his right gauntlet came free. Suddenly he felt claws scoring into him. It wouldn¡¯t be long now. Maybe he could use his arm to off himself and some of the Gnolls around him. He felt dizzy. Was it getting harder to breathe? Yes it was. Even metal was slightly elastic, and the armor soon began to bend and warp beneath the weight of heaving Gnoll flesh above him. Well, no time like the present. ¡°Fuck you, Bruce,¡± he wheezed. His arm liquefied into green goo¡ªnot that he could see anything in the warm, fuzzy, foul-smelling darkness. From around him he heard shrieks and snarls of agony as their flesh melted. ¡°You get a scar, you get a scar, everybody gets a scar.¡± He giggled. That¡¯s how he knew he was getting delirious, misquoting some celebrity icon from the days before the diginet. He had no idea he even remembered that. It must have been years ago. His arm kept spreading, the Slime eating away at the Gnolls around him. ¡°Good boy, Sid. Good boy.¡± At least he¡¯d take these bastards to Hell with him. As the last of his Slime spent itself¡ªit seemed to have more difficulty consuming living flesh¡ªhe felt the pressure intensify tenfold then lift. Not long now. It had to be like hypothermia, where you felt warm just before you were about to die. At least that was good. Not long now. He gasped as he suddenly saw light leaking in from above. Then he realized he could actually breathe again. He was not okay with this. He was not okay with this! He struggled upward, pushing against the Gnolls with strength born of desperation. The tomb of Gnolls heaved up around him and he saw a ball of rock swinging from a metal chain, held firm by what must have been hundreds of people on the wall. More hurled down simple spear-like projectiles that vanished into smoke as soon as they struck something solid, then reappeared in the hands of their user. Beast Soul Javelins. The stone was coming back now, having knocked the summit off the mountain of Gnolls on the first swing. Chris ducked, feeling the rock scrape against his helmet. Where the hell had those glorious bastards found a stone that size? How had they gotten it onto the wall? ¡°Hiii, Sir Christopher!¡± it shouted as it passed by. Chris nearly gave up the struggle as he recognized the voice. ¡°Bruce?¡± The stone swung back, knocking away more Gnolls as they tried to leap onto Chris. ¡°Hey!¡±This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Yeah, that was definitely Bruce, except he seemed to be encased in stone. But Bruce¡¯s momentum was slowing and now rocks piled on. Quickly, those on the wall heaved up as more and more Gnolls leapt on to bring Bruce down. The humans heaved upward and Chris was once again alone as defenders scraped away Gnolls clinging to Bruce¡¯s stone-encased body. He summoned his Beastblade and lashed out at the Gnolls nearby. He had the high ground and the speed advantage. The pile beneath his feet was surprisingly stable, at least to his high dexterity, most of the Gnolls had been crushed to death or killed with acid. Using [Sunder] repeatedly, Gnollish heads were cleaved clean off, the Beastblade gliding through gristle and bone like a malicious whisper. The big Gnoll was close now, though, and Chris doubted he could take it on with an arm missing. He looked around. How could he get onto the wall? Those up top struggled to bring ropes near to help haul him up. They wouldn¡¯t get there in time, not before the big Gnoll could bring him down. Time for a Hail Mary. Wincing, he vanished his Beastblade and jumped. As he soared upward, not high enough to reach the top, he summoned his new Beast Soul Javelin, his hand near to the head. He rammed it into the wooden wall and pulled himself up with one arm, vanished the javelin, re-manifested it, and¡ªwhile he still had upward momentum¡ªslammed it into the wall even higher. A howl of outrage cut through the air behind him and he looked back to see the boss Gnoll break out into a four-legged lope. Chris repeated his javelin climbing technique. Again and again. Lesser Gnolls leapt at him, but they didn¡¯t have the height or the strength to catch him. Chris rose higher and higher. He was almost there, one more javelin leap and then he could grasp the top. Then the boss Gnoll hit the pile of bodies beneath him like it was a ramp. It took twelve javelins to the face and back, but they barely fazed it¡ªthe broad heads caught in matts of dirty, armor-like fur. Chris stopped staring and pulled up with the javelin one final time. His fingers caught the lip of the wall and strong hands seized his own and began to lift him. The boss Gnoll leapt, sharp claws reaching for him. It pushed off the pile, scattering Gnoll corpses in all directions. It got closer and closer, claws gleaming wickedly. Chris was almost over the wall. One clawed paw caught. Those holding him strained as the boss Gnoll grasped Chris¡¯ leg with a victorious grin. Its claws tightened, sinking slowly into the armor with a horrible rending of metal. Its other arm reached around, readying to clamber farther up¡ªor take off his leg. Chris didn¡¯t know. He didn¡¯t want to find out. Then the boss Gnoll¡¯s eyes widened comically. Chris looked up. He saw a blur as Bruce, wearing nothing but his torn starter clothes and a chain around his waist passed over him. Down, down, down. Chris didn¡¯t have time to shout at him to wait. Not after the moment of hesitation when he realized what Bruce was about to do. That was suicide. But Chris wasn¡¯t a hero, so he didn¡¯t have time. Heroes didn¡¯t hesitate. Bruce curled into a ball as he neared the boss Gnoll¡¯s face. Layers of rocky armor formed around him, merging together wherever it touched, turning into a wrecking ball of solid stone. The boss Gnoll yelped once, and then stone met flesh with a gut-churning series of squelches and cracks. The monster fell back. Its paw released its grip. Bruce¡¯s chain went taut and he swung to the side before being heaved back up. The boss Gnoll slammed into the corpse pile beneath it, lying there stunned, its face smashed into a pulpy mess¡ªChris winced in sympathy, that would leave a mark. More javelins rained down, vanishing into smoke after finding their targets, returning again and again in a rolling barrage of Beast Soul Weapons. And finally, feeling as if he¡¯d gained a few inches from being stretched between the Gnoll and the hands that clung desperately to his own, those on the wall finally managed to pull him over. He lay there, gasping. Then his raging mana demanded he stand and fight, so he did. He peered back over the wall. The boss Gnoll had started to heave itself to its feet. Well, that wasn¡¯t how enemies were meant to behave. He summoned his javelin, charged [Sunder], and shunted in plenty of Dao for good measure. His mana almost hit zero. The javelin just had to last until it hit. With all the strength he could muster with his non-dominant hand, he loosed the javelin into the Gnoll¡¯s body with an intense grunt. The javelin passed through the monster¡¯s gut, the monster staggered then continued to rise. Then the black motes of Suppression began to cling to bleeding flesh as the javelin passed cleanly through the Gnoll. The blood seemed to stop around the site, the tissues drained of color, and Suppression sank into its body. The monster¡¯s arms and legs trembled as its rise halted, as if a mountain sat across its back. It collapsed back down with a wheeze, still breathing as color began returning to its body. Javelins from other humans continued to rain down, but mana was running low across the board and the barrage was slowly decreasing. Even then, they failed to pierce the monster¡¯s thick fur. Chris lay back against the wooden wall walk. Spent as he was, he could do no more. He was out of mana and energy¡ªthe running and fighting had taken it out of him. He felt stretched to breaking and his chest ached. His arm was gone for now, but at least it didn¡¯t hurt¡ªthe Slime always pinched his nerves closed whenever it detached. He smiled woozily as he saw Bruce, unarmored once more, leap off the wall one final time. Yep. That Gnoll was definitely having a bad day. Chapter 35: Loss Nkhra, the Great Mother of the minor Gnoll clans, despaired. So close. They had been so close. She had smelled the weakness on the tall pink skins, the fear smothered beneath the spicy smell of mana frenzy. Their packs had been weak. And the Area Guardian¡­ Nkhra growled. When the Area Guardian had arrived, such would be an easy victory. It would save her litter many deaths. Her children, and her children¡¯s children, had been reduced by the System¡ªstripped of armor and blade, made to fight with fang and tooth like the Gnolls of old. Their savage intellect, of which she had once been so proud, now had become simple savagery. And even she, strong as she was, was reduced as well. She had smelled the Area Guardian. Even from afar, her nose was keen. It was almost like the pink skins, almost like the humans, but not quite. A shapeshifter. It would have been glorious to smell the pink skins succumb to fear, so deep it overrode the mana frenzy. And the Area Guardian, the shapeshifter, the fake pink skin, had betrayed them, killed one of the horde. It had broken covenant, broken law, violated the protections of a Horde; in doing so, its life was forfeit. But the pink skin had not died. It had risen atop a pile of Gnoll corpses¡ªescaped with the lives of hundreds of her children, her litter. It hurt her, it hurt her so deeply, as she too climbed the corpses of her children to strike back at the transgressor. It always had hurt, the path to greater Glory always entailed stepping upon the broken backs of her children; but this, this was something else, something that ignited fire in her chest, demanded motion like never before. And yet, she¡ªNkhra, the Great Mother of the minor Gnoll clans¡ª could not move, could not see, could barely feel beyond the low throb of pain and the greater loss that howled throughout her bones and demanded the lives of her children be avenged. And they almost had been. She¡¯d had her claws around the metal shell of the false pink skin, vengeance should have been immediate, the Soul Spears made from her children could not harm her. And yet¡­ And yet¡­ The pink skins¡ªthe true pink skins¡ªhad no idea what they invited into their midst. They had defended it, even as one whose skin had become stone robbed her of her sight. She hungered for the death of the false Area Guardian, but in her heart she held out hope that the shapeshifter would be their downfall, that her children would rise without her, that her children would become Enlightened someday¡ªeven without their Great Mother to guide her. Nkhra could no longer see. Nkhra could no longer hear. But she held out hope all the same. Even after the spear pierced through her, and left the sensation of a mountain on her back¡ªtoo strong to rail against. Even after she felt the light fade above her¡ªthe withdrawal of the sun¡¯s heat transmitted through her fur into her skin. Even as the illusory mountain that pinned her down was replaced by stone and silence. The pain faded, but the loss remained.
Chris smiled as he heard the crunch of bone. He didn¡¯t see the end, but that Gnoll had been a monster¡ªhe doubted he could have fought it. He was too tired as he was. He closed his eyes as he lay with his back against the wall walk, as chain dangled, as rock scraped against wood, as he heard a body released from stone land on two feet. The fatigue of expending his Slime swept over him. His veins were filled with too little fluid, his heart hammered in his chest, and his face felt heavy. He drifted off into darkness and dream, as a voice came from beside him. It was such a nice dream.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°Sir Christopher? Are you alright?¡± Chris smiled. It was such a nice dream. ¡°Fuck you, Bruce,¡± he murmured.
Chris opened his eyes to see a roof above his head. The softness of a mattress covered his back and the armor that had formerly protected him no longer clung tight to him. He turned his head and spotted his plate mail lying in the corner. His face itched, so he scratched at his forehead, then glanced down, confused when he failed to feel his fingers soothing the abominable itch. Oh. Right. His arm was still missing. As was his shirt. That was in the corner too. He patted at the stump with his good arm. His eyebrows rose as he felt bandage wrapped around it. That was odd. Someone must have seen his missing arm; but if they had, why hadn¡¯t they noticed the lack of blood, or the traces of Slime within his flesh. It wasn¡¯t obvious at first glance, but someone close enough to properly wrap a bandage would definitely notice. Why wasn¡¯t he dead? Anyone who saw something abnormal should have gotten a quest. That would lead to them examining him closer. And¡­ And¡­ Why wasn¡¯t he dead? He sat up, throwing off a rough blanket that had been draped over him. At least his pants hadn¡¯t been removed, although his plate mail was gone there too. Someone had been thorough. Then, following the motion, lightheadedness washed over him. He steadied himself, waiting for the disorientation to pass¡ªit was like when he sometimes stood up too quickly, but worse. Oh, right. He¡¯d lost a lot of blood¡ªor whatever he had that passed for blood these days. He looked back at his bandaged stump. Seriously. How had no one noticed that he wasn¡¯t bleeding? Once the dizziness faded, he rubbed at the absence of his limb. It didn¡¯t hurt, but it still felt like there should be fingers there, something beyond the discomforting void where he expected to see an arm. Then he wondered why he was thinking so straightforwardly. When he¡¯d last lost his arm to Xys, he¡¯d barely registered it, drowned as he was in the drive to move forward and slay the monster. What had changed? He checked his center and found that the pulsing ball of mana in his center was much diminished. It was uncontrolled as ever, but it was smaller¡ªnot yet replenished¡ªand thus the haze of mana it threw toward his seven meridians was sparse. He could faintly hear the battle outside, snarls and the sounds of claws on wood. He wondered how it was going. At least the lack of mana explained why he didn¡¯t want to go out and fight. He really didn¡¯t miss that feeling. Still, just to keep in practice, he pushed back the thin fog of mana away from his meridians, then examined the room he was in more closely. The roof seemed to be made of wood and closed, blue-painted shutters held out most of the light¡ªalthough a few stray beams found their way in through cracks anyway. No one else was inside, and the room on the whole was sparsely furnished. Notably, on a table beside the bed upon which he sat upright, there was a plate of food¡ªsimple fare, bread, hard cheese, and some smoked meat. He wondered where it came from. He unwrapped the bandages and tried to feed the Slime in his veins the food, but it was dormant and sluggish. He poked at an opened artery, frowning. It was filled with greenish-red material that was hard to the touch. Hardened Slime? Damn. It must have been worse than he thought. Well, there went his plan for a rapid restoration of good health¡ªhe knew how the Slime was able to increase its mass when it had access to food supplies. That didn¡¯t seem like an option right now. He¡¯d just have to eat the old fashioned way. Not that he was complaining. The bread was hard, almost stale, but the rest was good. The cheese was the perfect balance between sharp and creamy, like a ripe cheddar; the meat wasn¡¯t bad either, tough, but deliciously smoky and salty. He was just gnawing his way through the crusty heel of bread when the door opened. He looked up, then realized the stump of his right arm was still exposed. He dragged the rough-spun covers of the bed up around him as someone entered the room. He blinked. It was bright outside, and the relative darkness of the room left him blinded as a familiar tubby silhouette stood in the doorway, pausing before closing the door. ¡°Bruce?¡± Chapter 36: Wounds ¡°Sir Christopher,¡± Bruce acknowledged. ¡°Did y¡ª¡± ¡°Yes, I did.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Chris¡¯ brow furrowed. Why wasn¡¯t he dead? ¡°You saved my life,¡± Bruce said. ¡°Twice.¡± ¡°Uh huh.¡± The knot in his forehead failed to unclench. ¡°And the quest to kill you?¡± There it was. Chris took a deep breath and began to speak.
¡°And you¡¯re sure you don¡¯t know any monster girls?¡± Chris had explained everything, down to clearing mana away from the meridians. Then things had taken a weird turn. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m positive.¡± ¡°Demon girls?¡± Chris buried his face in his hands... hand. ¡°For the last time. No.¡± He peeked out between his fingers as he remembered the bat-faces of the demons. ¡°Why?¡± he said, a note of despair in his voice. Bruce ignored the question. ¡°And you¡¯re certain about the quest to kill the guards?¡± ¡°Mostly.¡± ¡°Weird. Gregor didn¡¯t say anything about that.¡± Gregor turned out to be one of the unofficial leaders of Hartshire. He¡¯d organized everyone into a group, and when the tutorial started had everyone search the houses for food¡ªwhich they had found stocked with supplies¡ªenough that they didn¡¯t need to worry about hunting for at least a few weeks. Chris shrugged. ¡°Probably didn¡¯t want the news getting out.¡± If people had known that killing the guards would make them the ruler of Hartshire, the guards would be dead by now. One of the five already was. ¡°Probably,¡± Bruce agreed. Chris fell silent, there really wasn¡¯t anything else to say. ¡°And what about Slime girls? Does your arm turn into a harem of Slime girls or something?¡± Chris slumped back against the bed. How come he didn¡¯t remember this? He was so caught up in the idea that humans would want to kill monsters that he forgot the only other thing humans would rather do. That mention about his arm did remind him though. ¡°Can you get me a Gnoll corpse? I need to get my arm back.¡± Bruce gave him a thumbs up and sauntered outside, closing the door behind him. Chris looked up at the wooden ceiling and let out a breath. That hadn¡¯t gone as badly as he¡¯d envisioned. He¡¯d asked his own share of questions too. When he¡¯d been running with Bruce outside the walls of Hartshire, the teenager¡¯s questions had confused him. They shouldn¡¯t have. But he¡¯d expected the kid to never have returned to the troll glade. He had. Bruce had set up spike traps and deadfalls, then lured the trolls into them by tossing rocks at the monsters, leading off one or two from the pack, isolating them in traps from which they could not escape, then finishing them off.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. Bruce had gone back. Chris had been shocked. He didn¡¯t know why. Maybe because he was overweight, or had a katana. Maybe just because he seemed innocent and gullible¡ªand had been confused for unintelligent as a result, or maybe just dumb because he was fat. Unlike him, Bruce had been looking through the trolls deliberately when he found his first Soul Gem. He hadn¡¯t been looking for it specifically¡ªmore for useful materials¡ªbut he¡¯d found it anyway. The second troll had by some fluke also possessed a Gem. The first Soul Gem had been something called a ¡®Shell¡¯ and was a defensive item that surrounded the user in a protective casing of rock at the cost of mobility, the second had been a Cultivation Technique. When combined with the Shell it thickened the defensive coating into something that closer resembled the trolls¡¯ boulder forms and added strength. Either way, to use gravity to exploit the increased weight and turn the defensive Soul Gem into an offensive one had been a work of genius. He¡¯d been wrong, on several counts. Hartshire hadn¡¯t been defenseless either. The demons were too strong, but they couldn¡¯t get past the Starter Protections barrier. All it took was baiting them toward the barrier and then killing them as they tried and failed to breach it. He sat up as he heard heavily laden footsteps approach the outside of the door. He gave his Slime a slight prod, feeling it becoming somewhat more responsive, thin tendrils of green jettisoning the blockage of hardened slime from his veins. Bruce pushed open the door and dumped the body of a Gnoll next to the bed. ¡°You have no idea the looks I got carrying this here.¡± ¡°Thanks.¡± Chris moved over and pressed the stump of his arm to the monster¡¯s corpse. He felt a thin covering of Slime cut through the matted fur and begin consuming the flesh beneath. The amount of Slime he could spare was sparse, though, so it would take a while. Bruce was also here, so he didn¡¯t want to make everything too gruesome and gory by maximizing the surface area of his absorption. Bruce looked down, hearing the sizzle of melting meat, but saw nothing. Chris gazed at him. ¡°So, since there aren¡¯t people baying for my head, how did you stop everyone from finding out about¡­ you know?¡± ¡°Everyone¡¯s still busy fighting, and I saw your arm before anyone else. So I said I was your squire and that I could take care of you. No one saw anything.¡± ¡°How did you learn to bandage arms like that?¡± ¡°MMOs.¡± It made sense, even if it was odd to imagine Bruce wrapping bandages around digital war wounds. He frowned. How often had he thought about what life had been before? It had been three days¡ªseven for everyone else¡ªhe¡¯d barely even thought about his girlfriend, Allison, since then. In fact, he¡¯d barely thought about life before the tutorial and the System¡¯s arrival at all. That was¡­ strange. Had the invasive singlemindedness from his overflowing mana also made things from before less important? He¡¯d barely even considered what had been done to him. It had happened and he¡¯d moved on. By all rights a person ought to be a quivering, nervous wreck by now. Surprisingly, he felt fine. The memories of experimentation, struggle, and near death were marked not by envisionings of pain and despair, but by that same singular desire to move forward. The feeling felt foreign, alien¡ªas if he was looking at someone else¡¯s perspective. In a way, it was. In a way, he was grateful for it. He wasn¡¯t certain he¡¯d know how to cope if the mana hadn¡¯t made the discomfort and distress of the experiences less. It truly was a desire to press forward, to overcome, and to leave all else trampled in its wake. But it wasn¡¯t what was needed right now. His thought processes were clearer without mana, less inclined to seek combat as the be all and end all. Feeling the Slime in his veins replenishing helped too. He looked down at the Gnoll. It was a saggy sack of skin and hair, with almost nothing inside it¡ªit looked as if the monster had been turned into a balloon. Not for the first time, Chris wondered where all the extra mass went. ¡°You might want to look away for this last bit.¡± Bruce turned to face the door, as Chris¡¯ newly restored right arm dissolved the remaining skin and fur. It reformed into its usual shape and he went to slip on his shirt. ¡°All good. How¡¯s the battle out there?¡± ¡°Everyone¡¯s out of arrows and projectiles. We¡¯re down to melee and throwing rocks.¡± Chris hummed in acknowledgement. A question came to him. ¡°What about the guards?¡± ¡°What about them?¡± Bruce¡¯s mouth suddenly dropped open as he remembered the kill quest. Chris shared a look with him, then began slipping on his plate mail. He regretted the loss of his gauntlet and weapons, but he could recover them later. He sank into his center and let a small amount of mana trickle freely into his meridians, enough to give him a little boost of confidence, not enough to compromise him. He needed to stop the guards from being assassinated. What¡¯s more, there was a battle to win. Chapter 37: Gregor Chris got some odd looks as he strode back toward the wall. Many people had seem him carried armless into the building. When he walked out, he was as fit as a fiddle¡ªarm and all. How many times had he lost his arm, anyway? No wonder he got some odd stares. It wasn¡¯t every day you saw someone regrow a limb within a couple of hours. At least he thought it was a couple of hours, the sun had lowered in the sky, but the battle beyond the walls raged as furiously as ever. As they arrived before the walls, the signs of the battle made themselves manifest. Gnoll corpses lay splayed upon the road¡ªthrown from the walls. The cobbles and paving of the roads had been torn up in places and stacked upon the wall walk where defenders cast them down into the fray. The Gnolls¡¯ lack of weapons was to their detriment. They lacked the intelligence to use them, so they bashed themselves against the wooden walls with animalistic futility. A few defenders nursed cuts and scrapes, and one a long laceration from thigh to torso, but otherwise they seemed mostly unharmed¡ªa benefit of fighting from a defensive emplacement against enemies that could or would not use projectiles. Until the Gnolls breached the walls, the battle would be mostly bloodless on the human side. Chris scaled the walls, and the defenders atop gave a small cheer when they saw him, then continued throwing down stones, or stabbing at out-of-sight Gnolls with long spears or polearms. His eyes roved along the curve trying to find what he was looking for, one of the System generated guards. Chris approached the walls and saw that what had once been an endless tide of monsters had been significantly thinned. Good. He continued looking along the walls, but saw nothing. No guards. No distinctive armor. No colorful tabards. Just the normal, starter clothes¡ªsignificantly more dirty than before. Where were the guards? There were people bringing food and water to the defenders, along with the occasional bandage or stone to throw¡ªbut they were humans, regular Earth humans. Bruce had been shadowing him, so Chris turned to him. ¡°Where¡¯s Gregor?¡± Bruce shrugged. ¡°Somewhere on the wall, I guess.¡± Chris chose a direction and began walking, getting halfway before he was stopped by one of the volunteers bringing food and water along the wall. He had a bright smile, blue eyes, and dark brown hair. He quickly shifted his load to one hand. ¡°Hi! Uh, sorry if this is weird, but I¡¯d really like to shake your hand,¡± the volunteer said. ¡°I¡¯m Dylan by the way, Dylan Blake.¡± Chris looked at him, confused, then held out his hand. ¡°Christopher Hill.¡± Dylan¡¯s hand was sweaty when Chris gripped it, Dylan cringed and gave a weak smile. ¡°Sorry, I was never very active before this, haha. Turns out that keeping everyone hydrated is thirsty work.¡± ¡°Yes?¡± Chris asked. Dylan chuckled awkwardly and let go of his hand, then gnawed on a fingernail. ¡°Bad habit,¡± he said with a shrug, when he saw Chris looking. ¡°Oh, I just wanted to say thank you for helping us. You were epic out there. It was like watching a top budget fantasy movie. Best CGI, epic SFX, the works. Just incredible.¡±Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. ¡°Uh, thanks, Dylan. Appreciate that.¡± Chris smiled, and then edged around him. Dylan moved aside and a hunk of bread fell from his arms and rolled off the edge of the wall. ¡°Oh, uh, sorry about that. I¡¯m, ah, sure you¡¯ve got things to do. And I¡¯ve got to get water to everyone. Not energy drinks or isotonic solution, but it¡¯ll do. They never mention this sort of stuff in most video games, right? Thank you again!¡± Dylan waved, then hurried off, juggling supplies in his arms. Chris stared after him. ¡°That was weird.¡± ¡°Why? You¡¯re like a hero?¡± Bruce said. Chris winced, then jiggled his hand around, shaking his fingers free of the beads of sweat Dylan had donated to him. He could have just had his arm absorb it, but that would have been icky. He didn¡¯t want Dylan¡¯s sweat in his bloodstream. That was practically second base. Okay. Not really. But still. Gross. He inconspicuously wiped off the clinging sweat onto the back of a defender, under the pretense of a pat on the back. The defender startled, glancing back before his gaze brightened and he straightened. ¡°Sir Christopher. Thank you. We¡¯d have been¡­ well, down there,¡± he gestured toward the heaving field of Gnolls below, ¡°if it weren¡¯t for you.¡± ¡°You¡¯re, uh, welcome.¡± Chris scratched his head, looking away, redness rising to his cheeks. He hurried away. Gah, compliments. And where were those guards? Bruce suddenly perked up. ¡°That¡¯s Gregor, over there.¡± Chris jogged over, trying to keep as neutral as possible, just in case another weirdo tried to waterboard his hand. The man, Gregor, was well built and sturdy, with features and a complexion that would make an Aryan jealous. He¡¯d managed to get his hand on a length of chain, maybe the same as Bruce had used when he was doing his best wrecking ball impersonation. Unlike Bruce, Gregor had affixed a large two handed battle-axe to the end of the chain and continually cast it out like a deadly fishing lure, before reeling it in, letting it scythe through the teeming Beast Horde. Gregor looked up and smiled at the approaching pair, just as he was in the midst of pulling in on the chain. His technique was certainly effective, but everyone nearby had given him a wide berth. The chain continually splattered blood nearby, resulting in everything within several meters¡¯ radius of the blond haired, blue-eyed man being covered in specklings of blood and gore. ¡°Aha, and you must be the famous Sir Christopher.¡± Gregor lifted the axe, not minding the chunks of viscera that slumped off its edge, then he slung the weapon and chain over his shoulder, making him look like some mad, cannibal butcher. ¡°What may I do for you?¡± ¡°Are the guards safe?¡± ¡°Straight to the point, eh? They¡¯re safe. Why do you want to know?¡± ¡°They might be in danger.¡± ¡°I doubt that. I¡¯ve got three of them here.¡± Gregor gestured to two guards on his left, one on his right¡ªall three clear of the copious spray of vicera thesturdyman¡¯s weapon produced. ¡°And one over with Philip, since he was so worried about you natives. Better not to have ¡®em all in one place. Why? Do you know each other.¡± Chris looked at the three men. Those weren¡¯t guards. Then it clicked. Gregor had put them in the same clothing as everyone else. They¡¯d be impossible to discern from anyone else. ¡°No, we don¡¯t. Good thinking though.¡± Gregor puffed out his chest and grinned, then tossed his axe lazily into the Beast Horde behind him, keeping ahold of the chain. ¡°That was Philip¡¯s suggestion.¡± Chris nodded, just as he saw one of the disguised guards slump forward and tumble over the wall. The Gnolls howls below and the man let out as choked gurgle as the sounds of him being torn to shreds rose to the top of the wall. ¡°What the hell!¡± Gregor shouted, turning to follow Chris¡¯ sudden look of disbelief. Then the second went over. Gregor lunged for him, but he wasn¡¯t quick enough to catch the falling man. Chris and Gregor shared a look, then went for the third guard, catching him just as he keeled to one side. Gregor turned him over, then shook his head in disgust as he saw the man¡¯s glassy and blood-shot eyes. ¡°What the hell?¡± Gregor said. ¡°What the actual hell?¡± Chris whirled around, looking for someone who could have killed them from close by¡ªmaybe with a curse of something. Damned if he knew. There was no one around except the growing crowd of defenders that paused fighting to congregate around the first three casualties of the afternoon. The first three casualties of Hartshire. ¡°What the hell?¡± Chris echoed, under his breath. Chapter 38: Poisoner The guard had been dead before he¡¯d hit the ground. There was no one nearby, and Chris doubted anyone was able to cast magic with any proficiency yet. Poison. It had to be. Gregor beat him to the punch, his forehead crinkled and he pulled his axe free of the throng below. ¡°This was poison. A coward did this.¡± Chris nodded as he thought through the causes. What could be. Gas? Weapons? Food? ¡°What do you know of Dylan? He was handing out food earlier.¡± ¡°Dylan? No, he¡¯s one of my direct subordinates¡ªPhilip is another. He¡¯s a shy person, but he doesn¡¯t have it in him to poison anyone. No, this was something else.¡± ¡°Who brought the food to the guards?¡± ¡°Dylan.¡± Gregor paused. ¡°No, it¡¯s not Dylan. He¡¯s not the type. Doesn¡¯t have a bad bone in his body. He didn¡¯t even want to hunt the Gnolls.¡± ¡°It does look suspicious though.¡± Gregor stood up. ¡°Look. You don¡¯t know Dylan, I do. He would never do something like this.¡± ¡°But¡ª¡± ¡°If Dylan did it, I¡¯ll kill him myself. Are you happy now. But he didn¡¯t. He wouldn¡¯t.¡± ¡°Fine,¡± Chris said. He was unconvinced, but he wouldn¡¯t be able to get through to the big man. ¡°Where¡¯s the last guard?¡± ¡°Other end of the town. With Philip. I sent them both over a few minutes into the battle. In case something happened to me.¡± Gregor paused. ¡°I¡¯ll take you there.¡± ¡°Does Dylan know about the quest?¡± ¡°Of course he does. It was his idea to keep it quiet.¡± ¡°And doesn¡¯t that seem suspicious?¡± ¡°Of course it does. But he¡¯s not the type. He was a chemist, not some master assassi¡ª¡± Gregor looked up. ¡°Yeah. Fine. He can be a suspect. Happy?¡± ¡°Uh. M¡ª¡± ¡°But if you¡¯re wrong, you owe us both a drink.¡± Chris shrugged. ¡°I can live with that.¡± ¡°And you owe Dylan an apology.¡± ¡°Not the first I¡¯ve made today. Shall we go?¡± ¡°Fine. But we¡¯ll need to be quick.¡± Gregor gestured down to the Gnolls below. ¡°There¡¯s a battle going on.¡± Chris nodded and picked up the fallen guard¡¯s weapon¡ªa long spear. Without his mana altering his perception so much, doing so felt wrong, but the guard wouldn¡¯t be getting much use out of it anymore. And he was down a weapon. Gregor nodded, then hefted the guard and prepared to heave him over the wall into the Gnolls below. Chris laid a hand on his shoulder when he realized what was about to happen. ¡°Leave him. We can bury him later.¡± Gregor paused. ¡°Good idea. You¡¯re right. I¡¯m not thinking straight. This whole mess is getting to me.¡± He propped the guard against the wooden crenellations and massaged his forehead, smearing blood across his face. ¡°Fine. Let¡¯s get this over with.¡± He set off at a brisk pace. Chris kept stride without difficulty. Still, he felt a slight coil of uncertainty in his gut. He frowned as he ran. Still, he was unsure what it could be exactly. Then it hit him. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, that¡¯s the effects of mana. It¡¯s making you take risks, making you more aggressive, and pushing you to develop yourself. I¡¯ll show you how to get a grip on it later.¡± Gregor said nothing, but made a noise of acknowledgement. They kept on jogging around the wall.
The battle was quieter on the other side of the town. Gregor pointed out the final surviving System-generated guard. His back was facing them, but Chris could see he was dressed like all of the other humans. The guard was next to Philip, the latter of which was hurling rocks from a stacked pile down below¡ªoutfitted in the plate mail that Chris had bought him. Dylan was nowhere nearby, but suddenly Gregor broke into a sprint as the guard turned. He held a heel of bread in his hand and was about to take a bite. ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± Gregor roared. It was too late. The guard had already gone for a second mouthful. He hadn¡¯t swallowed when he saw Gregor barreling toward him. Gregor slowed, then sped back up. He ploughed into the guard and wrapped his arms around his belly, compressing the man¡¯s chest forcefully and repeatedly until the guard coughed and retched, spitting out the bread. Chris sprinted in to see what was going on. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± Chris shouted forward as he ran. Gregor ignored him and continued squeezing the man¡¯s belly until the guard looked a little green. Then, the guard turned and vomited all over the wall walk. Half-digested food, and chewed bread. Chris arrived to find Philip standing over the guard and Gregor. ¡°What happened?¡± Philip asked, hand on the sword at his side. ¡°He¡¯s been poisoned. Last one left alive. My three have already kicked the bucket. Poison as well. Who gave him the food?¡±This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°Dylan,¡± Philip said. ¡°That piece of¡ª He got my three as well.¡± ¡°What? Dylan? But¡ª¡± ¡°That was my first instinct too. Sir Christopher, convinced me to check out here anyway. I¡¯m going to kill that little weasel.¡± Gregor gritted his teeth. ¡°I trusted that bastard.¡± The guard coughed beneath the large man, trying to speak. Gregor patted him on the shoulder. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, save your energy. Hopefully you got it out of you before it¡¯s too late.¡± He paused, then reached for one of two flasks hanging from his belt¡ªa braided leather one, unlike the rope belts that most of the other people had. ¡°Here, rinse your mouth out with this. It¡¯s mine, so it¡¯s safe. Make sure not to swallow, might be some poison left in your mouth.¡± Gregor handed the guard the flask, patting him on the back, then helped him sit upright. ¡°Yes, rinse and spit. You¡¯re going to be okay. What did the poison taste like?¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t taste anything,¡± the guard replied. Gregor¡¯s eyebrows knitted together. ¡°Urgh.¡± He looked up at Chris and Philip. ¡°Poison¡¯s tasteless. Explains how he smuggled it into the guards¡¯ food without anyone noticing until too late.¡± Chris sat down on the crenellations. He had been right. For some reason he hated the feeling. Philip looked pale next to him. Guilty. Chris moved over, and laid a hand on his armored shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s not your fault.¡± Philip looked away, saying nothing; but some of the tension Chris felt beneath his hands eased in response¡ªeven with a layer of metal in the way. Finally, Philip looked back and down. ¡°I can¡¯t believe I trusted him. He seemed like one of the few decent guys here. Level-headed. I just¡­ I¡­ I fell for it.¡± Gregor looked up from his ministrations to the guard. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll deal with the little psychopath.¡± He turned back to the guard, patted him on the shoulder, and took back the flask. Gregor took a swig out of it as well, then stoppered it and returned it to his belt. His hand hesitated over the second flask. He looked down at the guard, who still appeared pale and shaken. ¡°Hey, do you need a drink? A real drink. Something to take the edge off? Tastes like a strong IPA, really hoppy. Ah, sorry, Sir Christopher, it tastes like a strong beer, lots of hops.¡± The guard nodded gratefully, and took the offered flask, taking several long gulps before handing it back. Gregor held it out to Chris. ¡°Sir Christopher?¡± ¡°I¡¯m fine, thank you.¡± Christopher frowned. Was it a good idea to give a poisoning victim alcohol? Well, the guard hadn¡¯t drunk enough to become incapacitated, and if he¡¯d taken a lethal dose of poison from Dylan¡¯s bread, at least he would die with a bit of drink in him¡ªlike in those war movies. ¡°Are you sure? Found it in one of the houses, didn¡¯t find any more though. Might be the last beer you¡¯ll taste for a while. You ever had a hoppy beer? It¡¯s one of those bucket list things.¡± No he hadn¡¯t. And he¡¯d be immune to most of the effects of alcohol, anyway. Chris sighed. ¡°Just a sip then.¡± Gregor smiled. Chris took the flask and drank a small amount before handing it back. The hops were strong and bitter, but it did taste like a good beer. Could have done with fewer hops, but no one really drank beer for the taste anyway. He felt the warm alcoholic rush spread down his throat and into his belly, filling him with familiar comforting fire. There it was. Satisfaction oozed over his face to accompany the warmth. ¡°Good, right.¡± Gregor laughed. Chris smiled. ¡°Yep. Great, actually. Quite strong. It¡¯s an acquired taste, but I could really get used to that.¡± Gregor smiled back. ¡°No worries.¡± Then his face fell. ¡°I owed you a drink for not believing you, anyway. You were right, and that can be part of it. I owe you more, though.¡± Chris leaned in, still feeling slightly uncomfortable. ¡°Are you sure you should have given him alcohol?¡± ¡°We¡¯re in the middle of a battle, and he was just poisoned.¡± Gregor sighed, looking sad. ¡°You¡¯re right. I probably shouldn¡¯t¡¯ve. But he might still be poisoned, and I doubt it¡¯s a nice way to go. He might still die. He¡¯s an NP¡ª a native, not from our world, but if the worst happens¡­ I hope it¡¯ll ease his passing. No one deserves to die like that.¡± Chris found himself nodding along. The man had a natural charisma to him that made it hard to disagree with him¡ªnot forceful, just something that instantly set him at ease. But he doubted he would have disagreed anyway. He¡¯d had a similar thought regarding the poison still being in the guard. Gregor turned to Philip. ¡°Where did the little weasel go?¡± ¡°He said he was going back to his house, didn¡¯t feel well,¡± Philip said, then paled. Gregor shared a look with the swordsman. ¡°Do you think¡­¡± Philip nodded. ¡°The locked building.¡± Gregor let out a worried breath. ¡°That fucking bastard. Going for the quest while everyone¡¯s busy fighting.¡± ¡°Do you¡ª¡± Gregor stood and thumped Philip companionably on the shoulder. ¡°No, you¡¯re needed here. I¡¯ll deal with that little fuck myself.¡± Chris straightened as Gregor turned to him. ¡°It was good to meet you. If I see you again later, feel free to drop by, I still owe you a proper drink¡ªnot some piddling little sip.¡± Chris nodded and waved him off. Gregor picked up the axe and chain he¡¯d set aside when tending to the guard, then lowered himself off the wall, dropping to the road of Hartshire below. He rolled to disperse the force of his fall, then stood and set his axe on his shoulder. He took a few dozen paces forward, then shrugged. Gregor unstoppered his flask of beer and Chris saw the back of his head tilt and the flask¡¯s bottom rise above his blond hair as the man took a good long draught of his drink. The tension in the Gregor¡¯s shoulders faded, then he returned the flask to his braided leather belt and dashed off down the streets of Hartshire toward the center of the town. Philip stared on after him. ¡°What¡¯s the matter,¡± Chris asked. Philip shook his head, looking somber. ¡°I just can¡¯t believe I trusted that asshole.¡± ¡°Uh-huh.¡± Chris nodded, he couldn¡¯t really say much else that hadn¡¯t already been said. Self-recriminations at trusting Dylan seemed to be the theme of the day. It was just odd, he was weird, and thus inherently suspicious, but he¡¯d seemed like a genuinely decent guy. He sighed. This entire situation was fucked. He shook his head and looked down at the guard, who gradually seemed to be regaining his color. Then he summoned his Beast Soul javelin and vented his frustration on the monsters beating at the wall. They had diminished immensely, but the corpses had started to pile up so high that he suspected it wouldn¡¯t be long before they found themselves fighting on the walls themselves. His summoned javelins were thrown with such force that they passed through multiple Gnolls¡ªkilling them instantly. Philip alternated between throwing rocks and borrowing Chris¡¯ long spear from the third dead guard to ward off Gnolls that were getting close to the top of the wall. After a while, the understandably shaken guard even joined in. He seemed none the worse for wear after the poisoning, and the alcohol hadn¡¯t done much to compromise him, so it didn¡¯t seem like a bad idea. They needed all the defenders they could get right now. The monsters just seemed endless, even though Chris knew intellectually that there were far fewer than before. He shuddered to think what a non-weakened Beast Horde would look like. Chris kept on throwing his javelins¡ªpausing every now and then to let his mana recover. As darkness began to sweep over Hartshire, caught in his battle trance, he didn¡¯t have time to react as the final guard tumbled over the wall. The sky flashed gold for a moment, then shattered into a million pieces. The pieces collected into a single beam of transcendent power and shot straight upward, piercing through the gathering clouds and gloom. The final guard was dead, and as the beam of golden power faded, a glowing, gilded orb hung in the sky far above them. The globe spewed out radiant golden light. Chris shielded his eyes and waited for the brilliance to fade, as the remnants of the Starter Protections turned night to day. But the light failed to fade. Then, it was as if a veil had been ripped from his eyes. The horizon came alight with hundreds of small colorful stars, of different colors and sizes. And many of them. Far too many of them¡ªtoo many to be a coincidence¡ªjust like the orb hanging above their heads, were gold. Chapter 39: Downfall Chris jumped down after the body of the last guard; the bodies of the Gnolls were stacked in a ramp so high that it would be possible to leap back up. He summoned his Beastblade and cut through the mangy monsters. It didn¡¯t matter that the guard was dead, or System-generated; he had been used badly, as a sacrifice to ensure Dylan was the one who ended up in charge. He at least deserved a funeral. Chris cut through the monsters surrounding the corpse. He seized it in one hand, then leapt back up onto the wall. The bodies shifted beneath him, but his footing was firm enough that the leap took him over the crenellations and onto the wall. He laid the guard down, then looked back at the orbs floating in the sky. The one above Hartshire was dimming, but he doubted it would last for long. The other orbs in the distance waned before waxing bright in another pulse, acting like continuous pulses above what he imagined to be settlements. Hopefully they would fade naturally over time. Like the one above Hartshire, many of the floating globes were gold. Chris turned toward Kingscastle. The orb above his keep was gold as well, with just the faintest hint of green. Gold must be the human color. Given the predominance of gold orbs in the night sky, there was only one conclusion: humans were dicks. That, or Dylan had just doomed the human race by removing Starter Protections for everyone. Chris returned his attention to the corpse of the guard. Even in the short time that it had been among them, the Gnolls had slashed it up pretty bad. The clothes were tattered rags, and drenched in sweat and blood. He looked at the eyes. Like those of the other guard, they were glassy and bloodshot as well. He pressed his hands over the guard¡¯s face and closed his unblinking eyes. The man¡¯s face was still hot and sticky, as if he¡¯d been running a high fever. Chris¡¯ hand paused, he felt a tremor wrack through his own chest as if a vise had closed around his heart. His vision went blurry and he stumbled, bracing one hand against the crenellations for support. He retched, and he felt the Slime in his veins contract. He¡¯d been poisoned, and whatever the poison was, it was strong. His chest was tight, and he felt his heart pause in its beating for just a moment, before resuming as the Slime within his veins rallied and continued pushing blood around his body. Then the moment passed. The nausea and dizziness faded slightly and he straightened, heaving in breath. Sweat rolled down his forehead. He felt hot and panic still flittered in his chest¡ªalthough having some of his mana entering his meridians unopposed helped abate that. This was the second time he¡¯d survived poison. He wiped his forehead and sat down against the crenellations, finally realizing there was someone standing over him. Philip. ¡°Sir Christopher, are you okay?¡± Chris waved him away, panting. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡± His head slumped back and he stared up at the orb in the sky above. He tried to think of what it could have been. He hadn¡¯t eaten anything from Dylan. What about drinking anything? Nothing from Dylan either. What about Gregor¡¯s beer? Could the poisoner have been Gregor? But Gregor had drunk some of it as well. Chris paled. If Dylan had known about Gregor wanting to share his booze with others¡­ then¡­ He frowned. That seemed a little convoluted, a bit too unlikely to work. Yet, if it was the case, then Gregor would be dead as well by now. The big man didn¡¯t have his poison resist. It was just by chance that, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a house vanish into oblivion. And what if Gregor¡ªnow dead¡ªhadn¡¯t found Dylan yet? Another house disappeared.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. What if Dylan had access to the settlement¡¯s control pedestal? Like a wave, the destruction of the houses began to spread. A bad feeling, one separate from the poison, churned in his gut. What if, after wiping out the Hartshire leadership, Dylan wanted to wipe out most of the capable fighters as well? Would he get the kill credit? ¡°Get off the wall!¡± ¡°What?¡± Philip said. Chris pointed to the vanishing houses, then leaped down to the road. ¡°The wall¡¯s about to disappear!¡± The shout carried along the length of the wall, and soon people were scrambling to get down from the defenses. The first section of wall disappeared, and one human fell screaming. The man was caught up in a wave of Gnoll bodies, alive and dead, that poured into Hartshire through the breach. Another hole appeared in the wall. The section had already been emptied though, so no one else died. Then the destruction of the wall began to accelerate. Humans trying to plug the gaps fell back into narrow streets, flanked by houses on either side¡ªpraying that the houses protecting them wouldn¡¯t suddenly fade into nothing. More houses, and more of the wall disappeared. Chris heard screams as Gnoll claws began to sink into flesh once again. He ran toward the nearest breach in the wall as monsters flooded the town. Chris moved the long spear to his left hand, then turned his right fist to rock with Stone Form. He charged into the fray, spear weaving arcs through the monsters. His fist split skulls whenever a monster got too close for him to lash out with the spear. He could have used his Beast Soul Weapons, but the situation was more precarious now. Stone Form required no mana to use. His Soul Weapons did. It was an easy choice. He couldn¡¯t afford to waste a limited resource. The tide of monsters from his section of breached wall stemmed as he wiped out a small village worth of Gnolls within a minute. He marched forward, stepping over the corpses of felled monsters¡ªand the occasional human¡ªas he plugged the gap in the wall. He held the breach, piling up monsters in front of him. It was a losing fight. The wall was broken in more than one place and Gnolls continued to enter through undefended holes in the wall. The only mercy was that the buildings and walls had stopped disappearing. What was going on? Was Gregor alive? Had he taken Dylan out by now, and, if so, how had he survived the poison? Then he heard a shout behind him. ¡°More walls! In the town center! Quick!¡± Chris continued striking out ahead, but turned his head to see what was happening. Indeed, at the center of the town, he saw stone walls rising Humans began running toward the walls, making a fighting retreat. Then some began to break formation¡ªmaking for the walls. Then the worst happened. More of Hartshire began disappearing. What was going on? Were they being toyed with? The destruction of buildings should have been near instantaneous. Chris clenched his teeth. He was going to kill Dylan. The disappearances happened quicker and quicker. And soon the retreating humans were exposed on all sides. Formations began to waver and more fled for the walls at the center of town. Gnolls moved around, tearing across the newly cleared field of mud. Then something else disappeared. The ground. The illusion of a muddy field vanished. The first Gnoll dropped with a startled yelp into a newly revealed pitfall. The humans¡¯ disorganized rout slowed and they quickly returned to formation¡ªbut not quickly enough to save those who had already fallen to Gnoll claws. Chris momentarily returned his right arm to normal, then bent down and tossed a Gnoll corpse forward with all the strength he could muster. The monsters trying to cram themselves into the breach were bowled aside, giving Chris the opportunity to run. He sprinted toward one of the avenues along which everyone was retreating to the center of Hartshire. Just in time. The wooden walls he¡¯d been defending disappeared in an instant, along with the rest of the buildings. He¡¯d sealed the nearby breach by himself, so the nearest path¡ªthe one he ran down¡ªwas mostly clear of Gnolls. He cut them down as he passed, finally reaching the humans. There were far more on his path than on any other¡ªprobably because it had the fewest monsters on it. ¡°I¡¯ll keep the Gnolls away, get to the walls,¡± he called ahead of him. ¡°Defend them if you are able.¡± The people paused, then turned and fled to safety. Chris continued cutting down the rabid monsters as if they were poppies as he gazed at the last defensible area of Hartshire. He almost stopped when he saw the gates were still shut, but as if waiting for just that moment, they burst open and giant dressed in bulky, black armor came striding out. The giant¡¯s hands blurred and a massive axe flew through the air at a speed that confounded the eye. The weapon mowed down a dozen Gnolls that had a human group hard pressed. The giant held out his hand and the axe flew back toward him. Its handle settled into his palm with the thwack of wood on steel, audible even above the calls of the Gnolls. The giant paused for a moment, as all eyes turned toward him. Then with a roar, he charged into the fray. Chris¡¯ brain finally caught up to his disbelieving eyes. He should be dead. Gregor. Chapter 40: Punishment Gregor was a changed man. He seemed like a god of war as he cut through Gnolls left and right. Chris¡¯ eyebrows rose. Even he would be hard-pressed to defeat Gregor in his current state. The man hadn¡¯t just grown in stature, he¡¯d grown in strength as well. He tore through the monsters and knocked their twitching bodies into the pitfalls on either side. A faint tangle of unease had been tying his stomach into knots. But something was off about Gregor. Was it the armor? It wasn¡¯t just the ¡®I am the unbroken Lord of Darkness¡¯ vibe that the black metal radiated. How much would something like that even cost? Chris checked his System Coin balance. He¡¯d killed, at his best estimate, over five hundred of the Gnolls. From it he¡¯d received over twenty-six thousand System Coins. He¡¯d also seen the weapons and armor for sale by the System Weapons Vendor. Metals and leathers varied in price¡ªusually quite cheap¡ªbut the cost shot up the moment enchantments, Dao infusions, and usable weapon skills came into play. He¡¯d been out for a while, but he didn¡¯t think Gregor could have killed more Gnolls than he had in that time. He¡¯d also been hunting demons for a while, but that gear was on a whole other level. Yes. Something was off. Something had been off for a while. With the Gnolls harassing them cleared, the people who had been fighting along Gregor¡¯s lane finally broke out in a full on sprint toward the gate. Chris¡¯ own were already there, and he was pleased to see more than a few of them standing guard around the area as people passed through. He looked to other lanes, noticing a conspicuous rock in the middle, surrounded by Gnolls. The monsters seemed unduly focused on the stone, and their attention allowed the humans beyond to retreat with less pressure being put on them. One issue. That rock was almost certainly Bruce, and Chris was almost certain that he didn¡¯t have the mana to sustain the Shell indefinitely. Chris muttered something unflattering under his breath. Bruce was going to need a rescue. He dashed down his empty lane, circling around behind Bruce¡¯s retreating humans and then leaping over their heads into the Gnolls that they held at bay. A few sweeps of his spear sent the monsters crashing to the ground, dead. He moved on to the ones approaching, striking out again and again, preventing the Gnolls from passing him. He needed to be careful. The roads were wider than the breaches in the now disappeared walls. If he made a mistake, he might end up getting buried beneath a mountain of Gnolls like before. If that happened, then he would be in major trouble. Then suddenly the pressure eased, as a monstrous axe carved through a whole group of Gnolls. Chris turned, seeing Gregor giving him a thumbs up before the axe returned to his hand. He tossed the axe again and more Gnolls fell. Chris barely had time to wonder how Gregor could lift that thing, up close it was massive. He dashed to Bruce in his Shell, killing the nearby monsters with several javelins. Then he kicked the stone. ¡°Get out of there.¡± The stone around Bruce melted away. ¡°Hi Chris. Yeah, I didn¡¯t really think that one through. Not my best moment.¡± He stood and began jogging toward the walls. Chris snorted and kept pace with Bruce, holding the Gnolls at bay as he moved back. Gregor moved around the wall at the center of town, clearing enemies away from some of the more hard-pressed groups. He threw the axe almost impossibly far, but it returned to his hand each time¡ªeven lacking a chain to pull it back with.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. Once Bruce was safe, Chris trotted over to Gregor. ¡°How are you alive?¡± Gregor hurled his axe at more Gnolls. ¡°I could ask you the same thing.¡± ¡°I¡¯m resistant to poison because¡ª¡± There was something oddly compelling about Gregor, Chris had felt it before. He almost told him everything right there. But too many things didn¡¯t make sense. Everything was too suspicious. ¡°Because the courts of Kingscastle are a dangerous place, if a retainer could fall to something as simple as poison they would not be worthy of being called a warrior¡ªmuch less defeat five hundred men in single combat, as is required to become a knight.¡± Chris added the last part as a side note; something had screamed at him to say it. He wasn¡¯t sure what was going on, but there was something wrong. He¡¯d seen Gregor drink from the poisoned flask. But his back had been toward them at that point. What if he¡¯d never drunk from it at all? It would have been easy to jam a thumb inside the neck and pretend to chug away, while never imbibing a drop. And the bitter taste, what Gregor had claimed was hops. Could that have been poison? More than likely. ¡°And you, Sir Gregor?¡± The man seemed surprised that Chris had actually had an answer, or maybe intimidated by the spurious feat of strength claimed. ¡°Ah,¡± Gregor paused, ¡°Dylan was not there. I have not seen him near, but I am keeping an eye out for him. He fled the settlement control building as soon as I arrived.¡± ¡°What?¡± Gregor hadn¡¯t answered the question. Gregor tossed his axe again. ¡°Dylan was not there. He ran away because I was too strong for him. I¡ªI¡ªI bought a Curative from the System, just in time. He poisoned my drink. I survived, just. But I had to purchase this armor to help me fight. I am too weak to fight without it, even now. I had to sell the remaining walls and last of the buildings to afford it.¡± ¡°And many of the Gnoll corpses,¡± he added hastily. Chris smiled at him, a side glance revealing that, indeed, there were fewer monster corpses than he expected. ¡°I am glad you are alive, Sir Gregor. I must admit. I feared something nefarious. But, to see a man of such honor and integrity. My King and Queen would be honored to find themselves in an alliance with one such as you. It would be my honor to extend such an alliance with you, The Hero of Kingscastle.¡± Chris typed up a quest screen and sent it to Gregor. He doubted Gregor had taken an in depth look at his purchase options. He¡¯d probably been too busy trying to figure out how many people he could let die until he stopped looking like a hero.
Sir Christopher has offered you a Quest! (Optional ¨C Kingscastle) Travel to Kingscastle (0/1) (Optional ¨C Kingscastle) Accept Alliance from King or Queen of Kingscastle (0/1) Reward: 2,500,000 System Coins, The Garrison of Kingscastle at your disposal, Dukedom, Dao Solidification
Gregor¡¯s eyes lit up with greed as he saw the screen. Chris couldn¡¯t even fulfil one of the rewards offered, but he didn¡¯t need to. The quest was impossible. Kingscastle had neither King nor Queen. It took all his acquired skills in maintaining a neutral fa?ade to not try and tear out Gregor¡¯s throat. But it wouldn¡¯t do to reveal his hand. Not when there were still people who needed to get to safety. He¡¯d kill Gregor, but he¡¯d do it on his terms. Gregor paused, then a crafty glint entered his eye. ¡°I will accept, on one condition. The traitor, Dylan. If you find him alive. You must kill him at once. He is crafty and possesses the Traitor title. He aims to bring about the downfall of humanity¡ªKingscastle with it.¡± Chris¡¯ heart skipped a beat. There was a chance Dylan was alive. He struggled to maintain neutrality. ¡°I will find him and bring you his corpse.¡± He began walking away. There were people who needed help, and he needed to find Dylan before Gregor did. If there weren¡¯t enough nails in Gregor¡¯s coffin, that was the final one. The man was tying up loose ends. At least a quest with ludicrous rewards would guarantee his survival for a time. Hopefully. ¡°One final thing, Sir Christopher.¡± Chris gritted his teeth, smoothed over his features, and turned. ¡°Yes, Sir Gregor.¡± He smiled. ¡°The Dao Solidification.¡± Gregor halted. ¡°Will it grant me a second Dao?¡± ¡°I beg your pardon?¡± Chris paused. Gregor had a Dao! How the hell did he have a Dao? Unless, becoming a Settlement Leader granted it. That or the Traitor title¡ªwhy else would Gregor throw out a title so brazenly to a native of the world. Such a thing had to be real, and Gregor had to have it. ¡°I already have my first Dao. Will it grant me a second.¡± Chris¡¯ mind whirled. ¡°That depends on what your Dao is, and how you came about it.¡± ¡°I was¡­ familiar with the rehabilitation of criminals¡ªsuch as Dylan¡ªback on my world.¡± Gregor shook his head. ¡°To see what such people were capable of, it sickens me to this day. I was a guard¡­ no¡­ the warden. And my job was, like my Dao, Punishment.¡± Chapter 41: Showdown Chris froze. If Gregor had a Dao, the man might actually be more powerful than him ¡°I am sure your second Dao Solidification will work admirably, Sir Gregor. I must take my leave, there are still those who need our help.¡± He hurried away to help escort several beleaguered stragglers into the town. They were few and far between¡ªmost were unable to survive the Beast Horde without the help of a group. There was only one small band of defenders left by the time he was done, and Gregor had already gone to help them. Rather than twiddle his thumbs, he dashed into Hartshire. Where was Dylan? ¡°Dylan!¡± The crowd packed within the town shifted, but no one answered. ¡°Everyone, up on the walls,¡± Chris shouted. Given some direction, the crowd began to move. There were four building clustered together inside the walls. The first two were the recognizable silhouettes of the System Weapon and Armor Vendors. One was a System building that Chris didn¡¯t recognize. The final one was the inconspicuous settlement control building. He scanned the crowd while walking toward the cluster of buildings. He couldn¡¯t see Dylan, or Philip either. He did spot Bruce climbing onto the wall, though. Most of the people were clustered around the ladders up to the wall by the time Chris reached the settlement control building. He reached for the door, but movement on the wall caught his attention. The attention of several people on the wall had suddenly snapped to the gate. He dived to the side. Just in time. A blood-stained axe flew past him and sank easily into the stone wall of the settlement control building. ¡°Sir Christopher, I thought we were allies. But here you are, caught trying to steal my settlement from me.¡± With the dead guard¡¯s long spear in one hand and Gregor¡¯s old axe in the other, he turned to see dozens of humans by the gate. And, standing among them, grinning, was Gregor in his black armor. The gates slammed shut behind him. Why hadn¡¯t his [Danger Sense] not gone off? Oh, right. He had disabled it. Shit. If he¡¯d had it active, would he have known Gregor¡¯s beer was poison? Maybe. It hadn¡¯t gone off for Xys¡¯ venom, but that had been far stronger than whatever Gregor used. Maybe it bypassed it. Damn. He re-enabled the skill. Gregor smiled evenly at him. ¡°I hope this wasn¡¯t all a misunderstanding.¡± Gregor stepped forward, letting each of his words fall like a hammer. ¡°Because. You. Should. Be. Dead.¡± Chris felt his [Danger Sense] activate. He dodged to the side and grasped the handle of the axe as its trajectory reversed and it pulled itself from the wall. Gregor stumbled, then set his footing. The axe lifted Chris off his feet and sent him hurtling toward the man. That wasn¡¯t what he had expected to happen. He¡¯d wanted to steal the axe, not be taken with it for a joyride. But he could work with it. Gregor¡¯s armor had to be ludicrously heavy, because he only slid forward as the axe shot back toward him. His eyes widened as he saw Chris flying toward him. Gregor drew back his arm in a dark fist. Chris dropped the long spear, and manifested his Beastblade. Simultaneously, he pushed his Dao of Suppression into the axe in his other hand, letting the black energy dance around the handle. At the last moment, he released the axe. Gregor stumbled back as Chris¡¯ weight no longer pulled him forward. The axe¡¯s handle hit his hand and the black energy of Suppression spilled into him. Gregor¡¯s knees trembled. The Beastblade swung toward him, its curved edge glinting in the moonlight as it chopped into the big man¡¯s arm.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. A thick gash appeared in the black metal, but it held. How strong was that damn armor? More Suppression entered Gregor¡¯s body¡ªsending him to his hands and knees¡ªbut red sparks suddenly manifested over the surface of his armor and crawled up Chris¡¯ Beastblade, making for his hand. His [Danger Sense] flared. Chris vanished the Beastblade, letting the red energy drop to the ground. He summoned his javelin, remembering to activate [Sunder] this time. He powered it toward the man, adding a payload of Suppression to it. The javelin slammed into Gregor¡¯s shoulder, putting him on his back. This time, Chris¡¯ Dao failed to enter his body. A surge of red smothered the black energy, then surged toward Chris like a thunderbolt. The energy struck him, leaving a smoking hole in his armor and knocked him backward. Chris¡¯ head spun as he stared up at the night sky. The people on the walls stared down at him. Probably wondering what was going on. He pushed himself to his feet, seeing Gregor doing the same. He¡¯d discharged that red lightning. How the hell did he do that with his Dao? Was it because it was a different Dao? Or was it because it was stronger? Chris felt a shiver of fear run down his spine. Either way. It had punched a hole in his armor. He didn¡¯t want to find out what it did to flesh. He dodged to the side as the axe flew toward him again. Then he ducked into an alley between two buildings. Lying there in the middle was Gregor¡¯s old axe and chain. He snatched it up, then began whirling it like a cowboy¡¯s lasso as he ran toward the wall. Gregor pursued him, leaping onto the top of a building, before jumping down. Chris dodged the axe Gregor had thrown mid-flight; it bit into the wall behind him. Chris let the axe fly out and around. Not aimed for Gregor¡¯s but around him. The chain coiled around the big man¡¯s legs, lashing them together. Gregor went down as his legs were pulled tight. Before the man could break free, Chris pelted him with a Suppression infused javelin, then yanked on the chain and slammed Gregor into the wall. The red energy around the man had faded, so Suppression sank into him with ease. Gregor growled and recalled his axe to his hand. The axe tried to fly sideways as the stone it was embedded in groaned and grated. Gregor began to slide toward the axe, then, in a shower of fragments, the axe pulled free. Suddenly smiling, Chris spun Gregor around again, slamming him into the wall. Gregor slammed into a ladder as the chain pulled on him again. Then he found himself ploughing into the wall as Chris yanked his chain once more. Gregor hurled his axe again. Chris caught it as it passed, dropped the chain, and threw a Suppression filled javelin at him again. It made the man pause for just long enough that Chris could lob the stolen axe over the wall. He watched Gregor as he stumbled to his feet, then held out his hand. Gregor frowned. Then he was suddenly yanked backward into the wall. ¡°What did you do?!¡± Chris grinned. ¡°I pinned a toad to the wall.¡± He summoned his Beastblade and rushed toward Gregor. The man¡¯s armor began spewing out the red energy once again. Chris paused, then swung his weapon into Gregor with [Sunder] active. A huge dent appeared in the man¡¯s breastplate and red energy blasted up the Beastblade. Chris let his weapon vanish before resummoning it and repeating the procedure. The man¡¯s fist pounded against stone as the axe on the other side of the wall tried to pull itself and its owner together. The man¡¯s fists left large cracks and craters in the wall, but nowhere near enough to get him out of the situation he¡¯d found himself in. ¡°You know, Gregor. You might have actually won this fight if you had bought a cheaper axe.¡± ¡°Fuck you,¡± Gregor spat. Chris stepped forward ¡°Wait. Wait. You can¡¯t kill me. There¡¯s¡­ there¡¯s¡­ there¡¯s an Area Guardian. Without me you¡¯ll never defeat it. The town will never progress. You saw those green waterfalls in the forest earlier. That¡¯s it! It¡¯s a giant Slime thing, over thirty meters tall. If I die, you don¡¯t stand a chance. Everyone will die.¡± Chris paused in place and his mouth dropped open. ¡°What? How do you know that?¡± ¡°I have a quest. Wait, I¡¯ll show it to you.¡±
(Optional ¨C Settlement Leader) Defeat Area Guardian (Race: Slime) (0/1)
Christopher glanced around furtively, then walked up to Gregor. ¡°You can truly defeat the enemy of my people?¡± ¡°Yes. Just let me down. Don¡¯t you want me as an ally?¡± ¡°Remove your Dao, what I am about to tell you is in the strictest confidence.¡± The red sparks disappeared. ¡°Yes, yes, anyt¡ª¡± Chris¡¯ hand over his mouth silenced the man as he leaned in. Gregor lacked all of his prior charisma and charm¡ªpinned to the wall, he just seemed pathetic. Not even worth killing. Chris frowned. He¡¯d almost not gone through with what he was about to do. He put his head next to Gregor¡¯s and whispered into his ear. ¡°I believe I owe you a drink.¡± Gregor¡¯s eyes widened as the implication of what Chris said hit him. Red sparks began to manifest over his skin once again. It was too late, the center of Chris¡¯ palm, pressed close to his face suddenly liquified. A river of Slime and Suppression poured down his throat. Chapter 42: Regrets Chris pulled the Slime back into his arm. He hadn¡¯t needed much to kill the man. He¡¯d probably invested too much into strength and too little into constitution. Or his armor provided him with bonuses to strength and little else. Gregor¡¯s body fell away, whatever connection it¡¯d had to the axe had faded after death. Pulverized stone showered down over the dark armor. Chris leaned down and tried to tug off Gregor¡¯s helm, it wouldn¡¯t budge. It was as if the metal had molded to his flesh. A pity. It might be worth cutting it off him later. Or just dissolving him. That could wait till later. An empty suit of armor would be extremely suspicious. It was unlikely they¡¯d notice his throat missing; but an entire body? He was still leery of revealing his Hybrid nature, especially now that he knew Settlement Leaders had a quest to defeat Area Guardians. He intended to tell people, eventually, on his own terms. However, he¡¯d need to know who the current Settlement Leader was before that. Actually¡­ Chris left Gregor where he¡¯d fallen and jogged to the settlement control building. The previous leader was dead, that meant that control Hartshire was ripe for the pickings. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, coming face to face with Philip, his sword poised to strike. They stared at each other. ¡°Are you going to put that down? You could put my eye out with that.¡± Philip lowered his sword and Chris looked around. There were other people inside the settlement control building, and, in one corner, Dylan. He was alive! Philip coughed. ¡°Is Gregor dead?¡± Chris nodded, then walked forward to the pedestal. For a moment, he considered letting someone else take control of Hartshire, but he could always assign permissions to others. Taking it for himself might also prevent any more Settlement Leader quests from being generated on his territory. He slapped his hand on the pedestal, keeping the name and aligning the settlement¡¯s race to Human and Slime. He sold off some of the Gnoll corpses outside the walls¡ªtwenty of them. He considered selling them all, but Hartshire would need capital to rebuild. He just wanted to buy something called the Settlement Subordinate System, and not do it on his own dime. It was cheap, costing only 1,000 System Coins. It was basic, too, but it would do the job. He tapped the interface a couple of times. ¡°Dylan, Phil, you¡¯re in charge of this place. And please come outside. There is something I must share with you in private.¡± He spoke up, ¡°The rest of you, please wait in here for a minute.¡± He stepped outside and they followed him. ¡°You might get a quest when I tell you this, I¡¯d appreciate if you ignored it. You¡¯ve been given command of Hartshire under me. I don¡¯t intend to intervene in how you deal with that, unless things get out of hand.¡± He looked at each of them. ¡°Things won¡¯t get out of hand, will they?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Good. When you eventually check out the control pedestal, you will see that the settlement alignment is set to Human and Slime. I¡¯ve already set Slime natural spawning rate to zero, so you shouldn¡¯t encounter any issues, but you¡¯ll still see buildings related to Slimes. Any that spawn within the area ought to be friendly. I¡¯m not sure how that will pan out if you deselect the Slime option for race. Understood?¡±If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. ¡°Yes, but I haven¡¯t got a quest yet.¡± ¡°Me neither.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the next thing. The reason for that is because my race is part-Human part-Slime.¡± He saw both Dylan and Philip¡¯s eyes cloud over as they read something. ¡°Yeah, please don¡¯t do that quest. I¡¯m human, from Earth. I just got experimented on by aliens before I got here.¡± ¡°Uh, you know how crazy that makes you sound right now?¡± Dylan giggled. Philip¡¯s reaction was more¡­ shocked. ¡°I FUCKING KNEW IT!¡± Chris laughed awkwardly. ¡°God help me, if that quest reward is good, I¡¯m damn well taking it!¡± ¡°A bag of screws?¡± Chris suggested. ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m not crazy.¡± He stepped closer so no one else could see, and let his arm morph briefly into Slime. ¡°That¡¯s so cool!¡± Dylan¡¯s eyes went wide. Philip looked a mix between nonchalant and quietly seething¡ªif that was possible. ¡°Meh, I knew you were a monster anyway. This just makes it more literal.¡± Chris smiled. ¡°Sorry?¡± Philip glared, while Dylan just seemed confused. ¡°Does this have anything to do with the troll quests?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll tell you later. When Phil¡¯s not around.¡± Chris winked. ¡°That should be it. Tell those inside they can come out. Have fun, I guess. Oh, and buy a Defender¡¯s Barracks, it¡¯ll let you set a lock out for the pedestal until the guards are killed.¡± They both seemed to rush toward the settlement control building. Chris almost let them both go¡­ but¡­ but¡­ he had handled some things badly, in a way that was absolutely wrong. Failing to accept responsibility, was choosing to accept that he was happy with never changing. He wasn¡¯t a hero, but he didn¡¯t view himself as a bad person either. He¡¯d endangered people¡¯s lives, and apology was the first step to making amends for that. ¡°Dylan, if you¡¯d stay a moment longer.¡± Philip could go ahead, that was just a bit of harmless fun, and he¡¯d gotten some armor out of it, so he couldn¡¯t really complain. He paused. ¡°Wait, Phil. Just¡­ I¡¯m sorry.¡± Philip nodded, then continued inside. ¡°Dylan, I owe you an apology. I thought you were the one killing the guards. I had no good reason to suspect you, but I still thought that you did it. So, I¡¯m sorry.¡± Chris was honestly surprised to have seen Dylan in the same building as Philip, he would have thought the latter would have killed the former on sight. Dylan¡¯s face, which had been slowly becoming more excited, turned serious. He nodded somberly. ¡°I¡¯ll have to think about it. But I do appreciate you telling me.¡± Then he turned heel and went back to the settlement control building as people began streaming through the door. Chris sighed. It didn¡¯t feel great to not be explicitly forgiven, but it did take a weight off his chest, even if it added a different one. Unlike the first¡ªguilt over things never said¡ªhe hoped the second would heal over time. People were coming down from the walls, and a good deal of them seemed to be confused why one of their saviors had just murdered their other savior. Some had seen Gregor hurl the axe first, but more than a few angry glares were sent his way. Chris shrugged. He was past caring. It¡¯d sort itself out eventually. He walked over to Gregor¡¯s corpse, then slung it over his shoulder with a grunt and carried it to the System Armor Vendor. He walked out ten minutes later, grumbling. Gregor¡¯s armor had been Soulbound to him¡ªthe paranoid bastard¡ªwhich drastically reduced its resale value. He¡¯d gotten 15,000 System Coins from the sale, but surprisingly, Gregor¡¯s corpse had yielded 8,000 on its own¡ªsomething about the combination of the Dao of Punishment and a Thaumic Heart being extremely rare. The Vendor had clammed up when Chris had actually asked what that was, though. That left him sitting at a little bit under 50,000 System Coins, which was definitely not bad for a single day¡¯s work. There was still one more thing to get, though. In his hands, Chris held the chain from Gregor¡¯s axe handle. He scaled the ladder to the top of the wall, tied the chain around a merlon, then rappelled down toward a massive axe. Still embedded in the wall. The Gnolls below were a seething mass of teeth and claws, but they could do little to the stone wall. Still, when they saw Chris their attempts to get inside the last defenses redoubled. It probably wasn¡¯t a great idea to stay too long. They still needed to clear out the last of the Beast Horde. With a mighty tug, the axe came free. Chris shoved the handle through the blackened hole in his breastplate to hold it, then climbed back up. He returned to the wall walk, to come face to face with Steve. Chris sighed. It had already been a long night, it felt like it was just about to get even longer. Chapter 43: Blibl Chris had eventually sent Steve scrambling with promises of armor and a new weapon¡ªno, not the one in his hand. There was probably plenty of choice on the battle-field outside the walls, but it was understandable that Steve would like to avoid those. Chris had also honestly forgotten that Steve¡¯s name turned out to be Albert. Chris couldn¡¯t really complain about having to cough up the thousand or so in currency required for a weapon and basic, not even metal, armor. That it was Steve, Spoiler of Smallclothes, that he was buying it for just meant he¡¯d add in a few sets of underwear, pro bono. Okay, maybe Steve¡¯s actual name had been dishonestly forgotten. A growl from below reminded him that there was a battle still happening. Every now and then, defenders would move onto the wall to cast down javelins, or simple thrown projectiles they bought from the Weapons Vendor. However, it wasn¡¯t the desperate affair of previously. Chris was thankful for that. He took a moment to clear away his mana from his meridians, then stepped inside the Weapons Vendor, he needed to figure out how the axe worked. The short answer was that it didn¡¯t, the long one having something to do with Gregor Soulbinding it. He¡¯d gotten as far as figuring out that it required a Thaumic Heart before the Weapons Vendor refused to tell him anything more. He did, however, manage to switch it out for a hammer made of the hard, black metal that had made up Gregor¡¯s armor. Not bad. To be honest, while axes were nice, back in his MMO days, crushing weapons always worked best¡ªespecially against heavily armored foes. He flitted between the Weapons and Armor Vendors, buying Steve his promised items and delivering them. Then he checked out the final building inside. He didn¡¯t know what it was, but he discovered quickly. It was one of the buildings he¡¯d passed up on in Kingscastle for his first round of spending. The System Alchemical Vendor. Potions lined the walls¡ªmost in normal glass bottles rather than in the crystal soul-storable ones that the System had given to him through quests. Still, it looked like a useful building. He could see why Gregor had bought it¡ªbeyond trying to cover up what he had done. If strength potions existed, that might explain some of his insane strength. He turned to the vendor manning the counter, and took a startled step backward. Why was there a Slime on the counter? It was bright green, with a clear core in its center, and two black lines on its front of its sticky green mass. Were those eyebrows? Why did it have eyebrows? It didn¡¯t even have eyes. The Slime wobbled in a very¡­ Chris didn¡¯t know how else to describe it¡­ in a very, ¡°How may I help you today, Lord Christopher?¡± sort of way. ¡°Uh?¡± Why was there a Slime on the counter? The Slime did two half-hops and a jiggle. ¡°I¡¯m Blibblblibbl, but you can call me Blibl. Can I get you any potions?¡± ¡°Uh?¡± Why was there a Slime on the counter? He knew exactly why. It was a Human and Slime settlement. It was only about time that a non-Human clerk was spawned. Though it did show that new clerks spawned when a settlement was captured. But why was there a Slime on the counter? And why was it talking to him?Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. The Slime, Blibl, did an almost perfect rendition of the Polka. ¡°I¡¯m not sure we have any ¡®Uh¡¯ in stock, but I can look for you?¡± ¡°Uh? Wait, no. Health potions. I need health potions.¡± Blibl seemed to brighten, then bounced off the counter, onto the floor, then began to slide up the wall shelves to where multiple red potions were arranged in clear vials. Blibl gave a¡­ booty wiggle? ¡°How many? What rank?¡± ¡°Two. F-1¡­ no, F-2.¡± Blibl climbed up to a higher shelf, pulling their bulk around vials of potions, or letting vials pass straight through them and clink against their core. The Slime reached the next shelf, pulled two potions into themselves, and leapt off the shelf, landing with a splat on Chris¡¯ face. Chris reeled back as Blibl clung to his face, two potion vials moved within them, pressing against his face. Blibl¡¯s eyebrows knitted together. Blibl did a little dance on his face. ¡°Please allow the vials to enter yourself, Lord Christopher.¡± The potions pulled back, then knocked against his face again. Chris reached up and pulled Blibl off his face. He spluttered, taking in a breath. ¡°Blibl. Put them in my hand please. How can you talk? And why do you have eyebrows?¡± The potions dropped into his right hand as the Slime retracted into Chris¡¯ right palm. Blibl wobbled once. ¡°The System gave me the skills to communicate with you!¡± ¡°And the eyebrows?¡± At least Blibl¡¯s previous comment explained how they were able to talk through interpretive dance. Blibl bounced proudly. ¡°I did my research on Humans before coming here! They are to help me disguise myself as a human and prove I have a soul! The eyebrows are the windows to the soul!¡± Chris didn¡¯t have the heart to tell the truth to the exuberant Slime. ¡°Wow, Blibl. I didn¡¯t realize you were a Slime until you tried to push potions into my mouth. If you put the vials in someone¡¯s hand instead, they¡¯ll never figure it out. The eyebrows are really convincing!¡± Blibl vibrated in his hand. Apparently that didn¡¯t mean anything¡ªexcept that they were excited. ¡°Are you a boy or a girl, Blibl?¡± Blibl wobbled confusedly. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Wait! Wait! I forgot. I know this.¡± Blibl¡¯s bottom half filled out by half an inch. ¡°Blibl is a girl. Blibl knew she¡¯d missed something in preparing her disguise.¡± Blibl suddenly towered up menacingly, wobbling her body above his head in the world¡¯s cutest threat display. Her eyebrows thickened suddenly. ¡°Tell no one of Blibl¡¯s mistake. Blibl¡¯s Human disguise is now perfect. No one will know unless Lord Christopher tells Humans about Blibl!¡± ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± Chris vowed. He set Blibl down on the counter and began walking out the door, then paused, holding up the two potions in his hand. ¡°Do I need to pay for these?¡± Blibl jumped in surprise. ¡°Yes. Yes. Blibl forgot! Five hundred and one System Coins each. Five hundred with the ¡®Blibl is definitely a human¡¯ discount! Humans need discounts to survive.¡± Blibl nodded sagely. Chris sent over the money, then his gaze snapped straight to Blibl. Blibl froze like a deer caught in a spotlight. She wiggled. ¡°Blibl is Human! Blibl is Human!¡± ¡°Of course you¡¯re human.¡± Chris nodded. ¡°I just wanted to know, do I need to protect you?¡± ¡°No. Blibl is safe against anything under Level 312. Blibl will make aggressive Humans regenerate their heads as a warning.¡± Chris paled, then walked outside. He closed the door behind him, pushing away someone who tried to enter as he left. Chris shook his head. ¡°Wait until after the announcement.¡± He jumped up onto the roof of the System Alchemical Shop, he looked down as he suddenly noticed the sign above the door. The Blibl is Definitely a Human Alchemist Shop. He checked his Status, realizing he¡¯d reached Level 20. That meant his leveling quest was complete. There were other things as well. They could wait. He had an important announcement. ¡°Everyone!¡± he shouted. All eyes turned toward him. ¡°Please do not attack the owner of this shop, if you are under Level 312, and if you are unable to regenerate your head. Simple. Don¡¯t attack the owner, don¡¯t die.¡± The person who had been waiting to go inside took a suspiciously casual step away from the door, then bolted away from the building. ¡°Also, if you don¡¯t agree that Blibl is human when she has her eyebrows on, I will personally kill you.¡± Chapter 44: Class Nurk looked through the corpse listings, as was his evening habit. It was a reminder of home. That, in three months, he would soon be out of his place. There had been some interesting new listings recently. Mostly trash of course, Gnolls and other monsters useful only for biomass and materials. But there had been some gems. Ossian Juggernauts, an invasive species from an anomaly¡ªcalled demons¡ªand a new, seemingly Enlightened, race. The last one had been particularly interesting. Humans. They had good compatibility with the Undying Strain, as most species did. They also seemed to be newly inducted, as listings were lacking. Strangest of all, one of the bodies had possessed a Dao and a Thaumic Heart¡ªnotable because of its low level. A Traitor then. The System did take a certain glee in empowering them beyond reasonable bounds. It was strange to see one dead so soon for a newly inducted species. The body had been damaged. Potions had ravaged its tissues¡ªalways a danger for those unaware of their potential for toxicity. That hadn¡¯t been the cause of death, though. The Traitor would have possibly survived, if not for its internal organs were eroded away, melted edges dripping with residual Slime. Nothing that would hamper the reforming of the bodies in the Flesh Tuns though. Still, it seemed like it was time to put in an order of Anti-Limenics. Better that than having to deal with another outbreak of that pest species. A single Slime could tear through a whole army of Undead flesh in a matter of hours. The Undead had many advantages, but living tissue was not the foremost among them. That was a problem. Yes, definitely time to order a new shipment of Anti-Limenics. Nurk glanced at the human body on the slab. Come to think of it. He knew exactly what to do with this one.
Chris was a little miffed that there wasn¡¯t a title for killing Traitors, but Gregor being dead was reward enough, he supposed. He checked through the rest of his Status.
Name Christopher Hill
Level 20
Class None
Race Hybrid: Human (F-2), Slime (F-2)
Cultivation Troll (F-1)
Dao Suppression (Black-Foundation)
Traits Human Potential, Monster Hybrid, Monstrous Constitution, Monstrous Assimilation, Amorphous, Stone Form
Titles Genesis of Blood, Prime Underdog, Agent of Self-destruction, Prince of Poison, Makeshift Master, Prodigy, Legendary Prodigy, Unrivalled Prodigy, Horde Disciple I, Xenocidal, Infiltrator, Anomaly Breaker I, Rift Scion, Surpasser, Area Guardian I
System Coins 48493
(6 Stat Points to Allocate)
Strength 83
Dexterity 99
Constitution 96
Endurance 79
Intelligence 78
Wisdom 74
Perception 73
Luck 107
He dumped his six stat points in Luck, getting an additional point from his percentage boosts. Then he checked his quests.
Quest Completed! Reach Level 20 (1/1) Reward: Class, Tower Seed (Tower of the Manifold Adept)
A class! He knew what to expect from MMOs, but still, he wasn¡¯t sure how it would pan out. The entry featured prominently on his Status, but whether it was deserving of that prominence was another matter. Well, it was time to find out. He pulled up his reward and a new screen appeared before him.
Anomaly Breaker ¨C Epic ¨C Roam the world, closing invasive Anomalies and defending other Anomalies from being overrun Dao Mystic ¨C Uncommon ¨C Further your understanding of the DaoThis narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Inquisitor ¨C Rare ¨C Find and kill Traitors with an array of skills and tactics Mountebank ¨C Uncommon ¨C Use trickery for prosperity and victory Slime Battle Alchemist ¨C Rare ¨C Combine alchemy and combat to ruin your foes Slime Knight ¨C Uncommon ¨C Exploit your Amorphous body to achieve victory Slime Queen ¨C Epic ¨C Create your Hive and breed various specialties of Slimes to destroy any foe that stands against you Warrior ¨C Common ¨C Fight on the front lines
Chris looked at the options available. He was spoiled for choice. Warrior was an immediate no. It seemed far too basic. Hitting stuff was easy, he didn¡¯t need a class to help him do it. Mountebank was interesting, but he was more suited for combat than in deception¡ªeven if trolling was entertaining, it was unlikely he could create an actually useful build centered around it. Dao Mystic seemed to be a bit too passive, from what he could infer¡ªand he doubted not taking it would prevent him from furthering his Dao. Slime Knight was definitely an option, but Chris was unsure how useful it would be, since his arm was the only morphable part of himself¡ªhe definitely couldn¡¯t regenerate his head. Still, it was promising. Inquisitor seemed too specialized. Chris was unsure how many Traitors he¡¯d be expected to come across. A useful class against Traitors? Absolutely. Was it the best class to pick for all around utility? Uncertain. It was a Rare class though, which was absolutely a consideration. Slime Battle Alchemist was promising, mixing crafting and fighting. The other classes so far seemed somewhat focused. Being able to do multiple things would mean that he could always put his skills to use, even when he lacked an enemy to fight. Like Inquisitor it was rare. Anomaly Breaker, like Inquisitor looked far too specialized for Chris¡¯ liking. Similarly, given how dangerous the Anomaly Breaker, Rift Scion, and Surpasser titles implied them to be, he was happy to give that one a miss. Sometimes he did stupid shit, diving into another Anomaly so soon felt like System-assisted suicide. It was Epic rarity, though, which promised a not-inconsequential amount of power. It was definitely tempting, but after his last experience with Anomalies, and the mandatory quests they entailed, he just didn''t want to expose himself to that again. Finally, Slime Queen. It, like Anomaly Breaker, was Epic rarity. But Chris was inherently unsure of how it would work out for him. The creation of a Hive sounded like he¡¯d be making a nest and then popping out babies for the rest of his life. It would be powerful, but again, too specialized. And he didn¡¯t even want to think about the dynamics of giving birth to millions of baby Slimes. Chris reread his options. It seemed that most, if not all, were lacking in versatility. Of the lot of them, though, Slime Battle Alchemist seemed to be the only one that might support crafting and fighting¡ªand he had enjoyed his brief experience making potions back in Kingscastle. The other option for crafting and fighting would be Slime Queen, but¡­ yeah¡­ no. That sounded like it could turn very dodgy, very quickly. Battle Alchemist might also provide benefits to resisting the toxic effects of potions better¡ªstacking with his poison resistance. If so, he could boost himself to absurd levels with potion effects while retaining a mostly human physiology. It was an appealing prospect. It wasn¡¯t the rarest class on the list, but it had a bit of variation to it, and if nothing else, it would give him a hobby if he messed up his build. Hardly the best reason to base a build on, but there was no point taking a class he wouldn¡¯t enjoy using. Not to mention that it might allow him to progress by not getting beat up on quite so much. Mana had a dampening effect on bad experiences, but it also served to warp personalities, heighten aggression, and make people be continually looking forward for opportunities to strengthen themselves. He wanted to spend some time without it twisting his perception. It was an easy escape route if things went bad; but was it really him making the decisions? He wasn¡¯t sure. He¡¯d need to be on the lookout for a pain reduction skill when he returned back to his proper settlement, but until then it seemed like going a route of avoiding traumatic experiences might be best. Every single battle so far, he¡¯d had at least a small trickle of mana running into his meridians. It didn¡¯t take a genius to work out that it had done something to the memories to prevent the experiences coming back to haunt him. It did have its upsides. But it also risked making him into someone who lacked control, someone who grew in power but not in personality, a person unable to change, and unable to take a road that didn¡¯t lead to violence. He had ties to his old life. Not many, but they were there. His parents, if they were still alive. Allison, his girlfriend. His home town. Chris wasn¡¯t sure he wanted to leave them behind just yet. It also reminded him. He needed to spread the word about what mana did to people. Gregor might have been a dick from the very beginning, but uncontrolled mana had probably played a part in his behavior. Not that he¡¯d seen anyone else try and murder half the town¡­ but¡­ maybe it affected people differently. He was about to tell everyone else how to control their mana when an alert popped up. Someone had just tried to take control of Kingscastle. There was a six hour lockout period for non-invasive attempts at capture, but still, no one was meant to be there right now. With his dexterity, it wouldn¡¯t take him long to arrive, but he still needed to tell everyone about mana, which might take a while. And there was a battle still going on¡ªdefinitely dying down, but still active. Come to think of it, a lot of people probably had Mana Manuals now from leveling up against the Gnolls. That would make things easier. He could just teach Bruce and ask him to spread the word around. Chapter 45: Resolve Blibl had already begun developing a minor cult, so Chris sort of guessed she was safe, but he decided to leave quickly, before things got truly out of hand. The other reward from his levelling quest, the Tower Seed, turned out to be a crystal. It sank into his hand without any problems. He¡¯d deal with it later. This didn''t seem like the place to use it, if it was some sort of building, as he suspected. On his way out, he intercepted Dylan, asking him to spread around the news that he¡ªChristopher Hill¡ªwas not an NPC, and in fact from Earth. Everyone seemed confident that they could handle the remaining Gnolls, so Chris jumped from the walls onto a pile of gathering Gnoll corpses. He reflected that he should have probably replaced his plate mail, but it was only damaged in a single area. As long as he kept moving, the expected damage would be minimal. His new hammer bashed its way easily through the Gnolls that tried to swarm him. Maybe it hit a little stronger, he wasn¡¯t entirely sure. His previous weapon had been overkill against the Gnolls already. Getting a hammer that bashed skulls fifty percent better when it already bashed ninety-nine point nine percent of skulls was just pissing around with decimals for no good reason. The hammer hit. It worked. That it was made of a metal called Nuctite made little difference. It was like cutting warm butter with a metal knife instead of a wooden one. It cut butter either way. It did remind him, however, to go search for his lost gauntlet and shield. He found them both, planted in a strange field of mud as if they were metal fruit ripe for harvest. A quick wipe with his right arm, and they were gleaming, polished, and ready for reuse. He slipped on the gauntlet, and strapped the shield loosely to his arm¡ªable to be detached with a hearty flick. Then he set off toward his settlement. He ran, even though he had at least five hours until Kingscastle was taken. It was almost midnight, and, despite his endurance, he still felt sleepy. He¡¯d skirted around the edge of the forest when he¡¯d carried Philip toward the Beast Horde that had gathered around Hartshire. He¡¯d been worried about running into a monster with the forest changing. Now, he ran straight through. Deeper within, the forest had changed drastically. Puddles of seething Slime reached out to grab him as he passed, and seemingly solid rocks suddenly sprouted limbs and lumbered toward him. Chris leapt over chasms, seeing rivers of churning green liquid roiling away below. The trees looked near death, yet they sprouted strange and vibrant blooms that dripped phosphorescent color onto the ground around their roots. Chris slowed, reaching out to pluck one of the fantastical flowers, but it fluttered away as soon as his fingers brushed it, alighting on another tree farther away. He chuckled, then continued toward Kingscastle as monsters slunk through shadow around him. Too slow, idle, or tired to pursue the intruder in their midst. One time, he ventured too close and felt unseen claws rake across his armor¡ªthen fade before he could identify their source. At least it confirmed that monsters weren¡¯t intimidated by Area Guardians outside of Beast Hordes. If anything, they were opportunistic aggressors. The Slime Forest just felt dangerous. The bright colors in the darkness drew the eye away from other threats that lurked and leapt between shadow and tree. The Slime chasms growled like insatiable stomachs, and every now and then a geyser of green goop would shoot up from between the finger-like branches of the Slime-blasted trees.Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. At the bottom of the chasms, perilously close to the Slime a few feet deeper, were bright, luminescent gems embedded in the walls. Small caves shotgunned the entire height of the sheer canyons, making it look like a cross section of a cheese wheel. Then he was past the area, breaking out into a thin veil of trees and more vegetative greenery. Kingscastle lay before him. The field of mud was just starting to be broken by the first shoots of green grass poking their heads out from under, like the periscopes of submarines. The gates yawned wide as he approached, and he saw¡­ People. It was a new start, a new choice. ¡°Hi there! I¡¯m Christopher Hill. A human, from Earth, like you. There are complications with that, of course. As there are in everything. But that is a talk for a later time, and I hope, before then, you will come to trust me.¡± Chris¡¯ eyebrow twitched as he counted them all. Five in total. His gaze turned speculative. ¡°Of course, before we get into the real fun, I have a quest for you all. A chance for you to earn armor and arms and lodging. Have any of you, by chance, constructed furniture before?¡±
Chris had regained control of his fledgling settlement, instructed his new guests on mana, and after a few minutes grudgingly handed over the screws required to finish the beds. He hadn¡¯t even threatened a nuclear apocalypse if they failed to deliver. He was proud of himself. He¡¯d turned over a new leaf, to find that it looked much the same as the previous one¡ªexcept without the imminent threat of mutually unassured destruction. The grumbling only lasted until he¡¯d given them weapons, armor, and clear instructions not to hit each other too hard¡ªof course they were going to test out their new gear on each other. Then Chris went back to the keep. The snake scales, meat, and charcoal from the tree still sat near the entrance, so he humped it over to the Storage Area, where it hopefully wouldn¡¯t spoil. And then everything was good¡ªexcept for the golden leaf, which he still had on him, but had forgotten about because the damn thing was thin and easy to not notice. His arm was still disinterested in it, and he didn¡¯t want to carry it around where it might get damaged, so he hid it beneath his mattress. It should be safe there. Especially when the Defenders spawned, sometime tomorrow. He crashed down onto his mattress, one last thing left to do before he went to sleep. Class: Slime Battle Alchemist ¨C Rare Constitution +10, +5% Wisdom +3, +1% Perception +3, +1% +5 Constitution, +1 Perception and Wisdom per level Class Skills: None (5 Slots) As soon as he read the final line, a new screen appeared.
New Quests! (Optional ¨C Class) Enter the Tower of the Manifold Adept (0/1) (Optional ¨C Class) Ascend the Tower of the Manifold Adept and gain [5] Class Skills (0/5)
He blinked and sat back up. That was bullshit. Why did he have to climb some dumb tower to gain skills for his class? Then a sly grin slid over his face. The System had made a point of trying to kill its users. First the dumbass transportation situation. Then omitting to the humans that the Starter Protections barriers would suddenly allow the Beast Horde through. Incentivizing Traitors, and empowering them. And finally, putting a great big damn marker above every settlement that lacked Starter Protections. He didn¡¯t even know how to disable the marker above Kingscastle. Hopefully he¡¯d be able to soon. Either way. The System had made something very clear. It wanted Chris, and every other human dead. The Tower of the Manifold Adept seemed like the latest iteration in a long and insalubrious display of sheer fuckery. Chris was going to do his utmost to disappoint the damn System. The tutorial was clearly designed to brutalize new races in what amounted to a lethal System-sanctioned hazing ritual. Chris¡¯ smile widened. He¡¯d start with the Tower, use it to get stronger, then he¡¯d get to work turning the entire tutorial into a burning wasteland. Chapter 46: Thaumic Gate Chris woke after his sleep and went straight to the top of his keep. He laid his hand upon the pedestal and checked his building options. He had no clue what to do with his Tower Seed, it sounded like a building, or maybe something that you had to plant in the ground. There was nothing about Tower Seeds, or about the Tower of the Manifold Adept, in his building list. He was about to close the list down and try planting it, but he spotted something close by in the list. Thaumic Gate. The Vendors had mentioned a similar word before. Thaumic Heart. Whatever it was, Chris was certain there was a connection between the two. Checking the information beside it proved him right. The Thaumic Gate was a structure that would pierce into a volatile plane of wild magic and treasures, called the Thaumic Strata. Unlike many of the other buildings, a Thaumic Gate had no rank, but relied on local ambient mana levels to facilitate its connection to the Thaumic Strata, with higher ambient mana levels allowing for the structure to pierce deeper into the Thaumic Strata, where magical energies were stronger. It also came with a warning to place it outside the walls, since the inherently unstable plane had a tendency to overflow into areas where it was breached. The building was 12,000 System Coins, along with a 100 System Coin activation cost, and an additional 100 System Coins per current area rank, up to F-9, where the price increased further. It seemed interesting, and something about what the Vendor back in Hartshire had said implied that Thaumic Hearts gave a considerable advantage. Intrigued, Chris went to the General Supplies Vendor to check if they sold information on Thaumic Gates and the Thaumic Strata, but there was very little on them. The General Supplies Vendor appeared to be limited to basic information on various combat and crafting fields. Apparently there was more complex information out there, but what could be found in the tutorial was either limited or extremely expensive. A brief talk revealed that the tutorial was a closed economic ecosystem. Only the System and other tutorial takers could buy and sell within it. That meant that either everyone knew about Thaumic Strata¡ªso much so that it wasn¡¯t worth writing down¡ªor very few people did. He suspect it was the former rather than the latter. And if everyone knew about it, then it would likely have some use. Sighing, he returned to his keep and designated a small area outside the walls, then erected the Thaumic Gate there. Chris was eager, of course, to try and raze the Tower of the Manifold Adept to rubble, after making off with as many of the most powerful skills as he could. However, if access to the Thaumic Strata was truly an advantage, then a little bit of exploration would be worthwhile. The Thaumic Gate slowly assembled itself. After a brief pause it whirred to life. The ground around it hardened, glowing purple lines radiating out from around it, like the shattering fractures of clay in a dried-out riverbed. It reminded Chris of the obelisk, but without the symbols arranged in runic patterns. He hadn¡¯t seen magic, since. Could that be what the Thaumic Strata contained? Magical treasures. The building completed and through the archway, Chris could see a colorful world. Close to the arch, the area was stable, if unnaturally bright and strange, populated with strange crystal growths, but farther away¡ªhe wasn¡¯t entirely sure where¡ªthe boundaries of the Strata began to blur. The plane spun and blurred away at high speeds, turning into a hallucinogenic of shifting color and crystal. From within the archway, strange sounds spilled out, like a mix of birdsong and falling water, but laced with a hair-raising resonance that tugged at him.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. The bleary-eyed newcomers began to emerge from their houses, wondering what the new noise was. They couldn¡¯t see anything over the walls, but they could still hear the Thaumic Gate in operation. Chris looked down at them. ¡°Stay inside. I¡¯m testing something out, it might be dangerous.¡± He dashed down from the tower and approached the magical gate. Soon he was standing right in front of it as indescribable smells wafted out of the archway toward him. The image of the world inside seemed hazy, but still, there was an electrifying energy surrounding the gate, and he felt Sid, his Slime arm, perk up as power washed over them both. He bent down and threw a clump of dirt through the gate. It disappeared, but didn¡¯t land inside the Thaumic Strata. Chris leaned around and saw the dirt he had thrown on the other side, looking just as he had thrown it. He took another step forward, bringing him closer. A screen popped up.
Activate the Thaumic Gate?
Chris shrugged and accepted. It was only 200 System Coins. The hazy image inside suddenly snapped into focus, and like water flash-freezing, the blurring areas of color, beyond the island of stability that the Thaumic Gate created, suddenly slowed. Improperly joined terrain smashed up against the side of the island and adhered to it, extending the non-moving areas out, far into the distance. He threw another clump of dirt through the gate, and this time it landed on the other side, before breaking apart into purple crystal beetles that scuttled between blades of brilliant green grass. Only the seeds and shoots of normal grass caught up in the dirt survived the landing. A loose thread went in next. It became a sapphire snake moments after passing through. It slithered around the gate and out of sight. Chris ran over to the nearby forest, snapping a branch off the tree, he jogged back and shoved it through the gate nothing happened. He set the branch aside. Pulled off his gauntlets, then put the index fingertip of his right hand through. Sid shivered in happiness, and Chris felt a strange and volatile energy rush down his hand and into his veins. He pulled his finger back, staring at it intently. The Thaumic Strata seemed safe for living things, just not for anything that wasn¡¯t alive. What if something had once been alive? He ran back through the gates of Kingscastle and retrieved a small pebble of charcoal that had once been part of Xys¡¯ tree. He threw it in. It landed on the ground, unaffected. A faint haze began to gather above it. Chris watched for several minutes as nothing happened. Then the lump of charcoal sprouted legs, becoming a miniature, black house cat. Its tail curled up above it like a question mark as it found its feet. The cat stared straight at Chris, walked up to the junction between the tutorial world and the Thaumic Strata, then peed on the ground in front of him. Chris jumped back as cat piss almost splattered his boots. The cat stared for a moment more, then meowed and strutted around the side of the Thaumic Gate and out of sight. Chris walked around as well, but didn¡¯t see the cat on the other side. He walked back, and saw that the grass he¡¯d thrown in with the dirt had gone missing. He pushed the branch through again. This time he noticed the faint haze rising of the leaves and bark. Then, one of the leaves detached itself from the branch, folded itself up like a paper boat, and flew away on an invisible breeze, bobbing up and down. Okay, so not just dead things. Living things too, just slower. He put his left hand through, and now he felt mana being drained from him in a slow trickle. That hadn¡¯t happened when he¡¯d done it with his other hand. The Thaumic Strata must be draining mana, and when the mana drained it turned things into strange creatures and creations. And cats, apparently. The question now, was what would happen if he was holding onto something while he went inside. He pulled up two handfuls of dirt, one in each hand and held them both inside the Thaumic Strata. Mana drained from his left hand, while his right hand luxuriated in whatever composed the atmosphere inside. Nothing happened to either of the handfuls of dirt. That was good. So his gear was fine, as long as he didn¡¯t lose it. He almost poked his head through when he thought better of it. He brought one of the new arrivals over. She¡¯d been staring at the pit of Slimes, so Chris decided to give her a job. Thus Sarah had the illustrious task of pulling him to safety if the air turned out to be knockout poison or something. The cat pee that had crossed over seemed to be pretty innocuous, except for the smell, but it never hurt to be too careful. Taking a deep breath, Chris crossed over. Chapter 47: Thaumic Strata Chris felt Sarah¡¯s hand in his, he clutched it desperately like a lifeline, then loosened it when he heard a hiss of pain behind him. Oh, right. He had superhuman strength, and Sarah had diddlysquat. ¡°Sorry,¡± he said reflexively, then clammed his mouth shut. Don¡¯t breathe. The world rippled around him, like walking through a soap bubble. Indescribable smells surrounded him¡ªliterally otherworldly. He had no reference for them, no ability to comprehend them, except for the unflinching knowledge that they were there, that they were. He heard the Thaumic Strata shifting in the distance, knew that the waterfall of birdsong¡ªso far away¡ªwas the sound of a volatile world spinning and slamming together like soap suds in a whirlwind, mixing like oil, water, and gasoline into something that defied sense and convention. In places the horizon plunged suddenly upward, waterfalls of landmass lifting like living ribbons through the air, curling and curving in mad orbits around globes of swirling terrain and pulsing balls of spiked energy. Whether the land was created or destroyed from those points, he had no clue, no ability to reference the way in which the world moved¡ªonly the ability to comprehend his inability to understand. In other places, the Thaumic Strata fell away, beyond sight and reason, descending to depths he could not fathom if he wanted to¡ªto a churning sea of unrelenting geography and probability that cascaded together. Then he gasped. Mana began to seep from his skin, pulling from pores and dripping from the raised hairs of his arms and face like gravity-defying sweat. The mana passed through his armor and abruptly dissipated into the air like golden motes of dust captured by a questing sunbeam. The feeling was not painful, but it was intense. The drain was manageable, at least for a while, but it was noticeable. The gasp came with an inrush of air; he tasted sweetness along with¡­ something else? It was weird, but it wasn¡¯t indescribable, more like synesthesia. Was that rush hour in a chess game with three right turns and hanging a left into the metaphysical abstractions of a mongoose? He seemed none the worse for wear despite knowing what the metaphysical abstractions of a mongoose tasted like¡ªwhich was always a good thing¡ªso he turned to give Sarah a thumbs up. It was then that the cat¡ªwaiting patiently on the top of the arch of the Thaumic Gate chose to leap atop his head. Chris reeled back, his hand¡ªinordinately strong¡ªripped free of Sarah¡¯s own. He landed on his ass, a cat¡¯s claws wrapped around his face, too weak to deal damage, but unappreciated all the same. At least it was just a cat, not some Lovecraftian nightmare. And at least the cat had already peed. That would have been... awkward. The cat caught a stray strand of hair in its claws, tugging it free as it sprang back off his face with a startled meow¡ªglaring at Chris, who was obviously to blame. It sat down, two feet away from him, licking at its paws with the universal studious detachment that can be attributed to cats, and which roughly translates to ¡®Fuck you, I¡¯m a cat¡¯. The strand of hair torn free morphed into a necktie that knotted itself around the animal¡¯s neck, and somehow stretch and entire one and half feet vertically, without ever touching the ground that lay several inches below the animal¡¯s head. ¡°You okay in there?¡± Sarah called from outside. Chris blinked. She could hear him? That was helpful, he supposed. ¡°All good.¡± Just as well. He had, maybe, ten to fifteen minutes before his mana depleted fully. Time for some tests, then. Sid seemed to be happy in the Thaumic Strata, so Chris focused on his arm first¡ªwith his back to Sarah of course. He pushed some mana close to the surface of his right arm, but it failed to leave, despite something definitely entering, no matter how he morphed it, nothing happen. He strode over to the Thaumic Gate and shoved the arm back through. His rate of mana drain didn¡¯t slow¡ªrising off him like a heat haze over a desert road. Sid wasn¡¯t creating extra mana for him. Sarah gripped his hand as he held it through the gate; she looked confused.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°No, just testing something out, all good.¡± Sarah let go. Surprisingly, everything was good. The air was even breathable, which was a good thing. He really had to get some environmental adaptation skill at some point. Come to think of it, that was extremely strange. Earth, the tutorial, Xal, and the Thaumic Strata all had an atmosphere conducive to humans. Was it a fluke, or had human physiology been changed during induction? It was a thought for another time. He walked away from the Thaumic Gate and turned his back to Sarah, then had Sid slide over his shoulder to cover a patch of completely human skin. His mana loss hiccupped and then continued at a lower rate. Interesting. Slime was resistant to mana loss. He tried to move the Slime farther over his body, but maintaining his hand while covering himself appropriately was too much of a task for him. Best to quit while he was ahead and Sarah thought he was still entirely human. His rate of mana loss had slowed, though. It was interesting, Slime seemed to be capable of resisting the draining effects of the Thaumic Strata. Maybe as an insulating layer. There certainly wasn¡¯t any mana here. In the tutorial it had been omnipresent, felt but not seen. Here it glowed gold before it winked out of existence, swallowed by something invisible that filled the strange air. Next up was trying to manifest a Beast Soul Weapon. He was about to summon his Beastblade, but reconsidered when confronted with the prospect that it might disappear forever if he did so. Something disposable¡­ or¡­ yes, that was perfect. He ran his troll Cultivation Technique through his body, but nothing happened, he solidified the palm of his right hand, but it failed to benefit from the increase in hardness that the cultivation technique typically provided. He let a trickle of mana ebb from his fingers, some of it was sucked back inside him, and for a moment, as the golden motes sank back into him, his palm became denser and more solid¡ªbut most of the mana was ripped away. Interesting. The Cultivation Technique was internal, though. Next up, he manifested his Beast Soul javelin. It steamed with mana, continuously draining him and filling the air with golden light until he tossed the weapon. The javelin promptly stopped stealing mana from him, instead, it left a trail of golden sparks as it flew through the air and embedded itself in the colorful, semi-crystalline earth. The cat leapt toward it¡ªcapricious as only a cat could be¡ªthen it drew back, hissing, as it tried to swat at a golden spark. Its black paw turned to charcoal, which crumbled into powder in the ground at its feet, spat out mana, then rose up as ghouls of smoke and ash that cackled and howled as they ascended into the air and whatever lay above. Mana was poison to beings of this realm, got it. It also seemed that anything converted by the Thaumic Strata didn¡¯t survive reversion. The cat, mewling, darted away from the spear, disappearing, three-legged, into the distance. The spear had already vanished, quicker than it should have¡ªprobably due to its composition being compromised by the nature of the Thaumic Strata. Tentatively, he pushed the crystalized form of the Beast Soul javelin out of his body¡ªhe could always get one when he returned to Hartshire, and the residents already knew that the stones could be found inside corpses. That did remind him, though. It was essential to remove the Soul Gems first, he doubted the shop paid an increased rate for them. Oops. He was certain the Gnolls had Soul Gems inside them¡ªthey were relatively frequent, unlike with the demons, from which he¡¯d never gained a single Gem. Either way, he was getting off track in his musings about the System being stingy. The Soul Gem. He set it down on the ground. It steamed and mana rose from it. He winced at the prospect of seeing the weapon destroyed, but such was the cost of advancing his knowledge. The mana drain from the Soul Gem ceased. The Soul Gem remained. Unchanged. Chris frowned. What the heck? He absorbed it back into his arm. It returned without issue. The Soul Gem felt weird, not empty, but filled with something else¡ªand not that glass half full of water, half full of air bullshit, genuinely something else. Not mana, but something he couldn¡¯t detect. Odd. It didn¡¯t seem to be doing anything detrimental, but he¡¯d leave it like that for a while, just in case. He tried to summon the javelin. Nothing. As expected. Honestly, being able to summon the Beast Soul Weapon after that was too good to be true. But at least the Gem had survived¡­ probably. Who knew what would happen when he pushed out whatever was inside it. His time was running out, however, his experiments had cost him mana¡ªthat meant that he¡¯d spent five of his fifteen minutes on experimentation, and another five on the resources for performing them. Five left. One more experiment, then time to go. No point in risking things. And anyway, the birdsong waterfall of the Thaumic Strata rearranging was getting louder, getting closer. He suspected the Thaumic Gate¡¯s connection would collapse once it got too close¡ªor turn him into chunky salsa if he passed through at the wrong moment. His final test was to try moving his center toward his Slime arm. He wasn¡¯t certain what would happen, so he moved to put the side of the gate¡¯s arch between him and Sarah¡ªthat way, even if she walked around, she¡¯d not see him. Then he pushed his center toward his right arm. If Slime was insulative, his loss of mana would reduce, wouldn¡¯t it? Moving his center was a weird experience. It was more lacking location, but the action seemed to move his mana accordingly, so he didn¡¯t pay it all too much heed. The mana loss at the left side of his body slowed as flow to it decreased, and that on his right increased slightly, before abruptly ending where Slime met flesh in earnest. Chris smiled. Why was there a color-changing, chameleon-like napkin crawling out of his nose? He fell forward and everything went black. Chapter 48: Option Two Chris woke to the feeling of being dragged across grass as Sarah huffed and heaved on his body. It was slow going¡ªhis armor weighed him down¡ªbut he was definitely moving. He jolted up, feeling the chameleon napkins spread across the left side of his body flapping wildly. The one protruding from his nose jostled again his lips, trying to wiped his already clean face even cleaner. He looked away after a moment. The atmosphere of the Thaumic Strata had flayed napkins from his body¡ªstill attached by dangling symphyses of skin and color-changing cloth whose beginnings and ends seemed impossible to properly determine. At least it wasn¡¯t painful, in fact, apart from a pressing urge to clean away food residue, he didn¡¯t feel much at all. That was good, at least. Or bad, maybe. Better not to think of it until he was through the portal. His remaining mana in his center was wan and weak. It would do. He finally focused on Sarah, golden motes of light rose off her like fireflies, but he¡¯d taught her¡ªand the other four in Kingscastle¡ªabout controlling mana, she¡¯d be fine. What he was worried about was the sound of the Thaumic Strata¡¯s volatile nature reasserting itself. Chris coughed lightly. Sarah looked at him. ¡°I can stand.¡± Sarah raised an eyebrow as one of the chameleon napkins flapped particularly enthusiastically. Was that a spot of dirt on Sarah¡¯s cheek? Chris shook his head. Not the time for napkin thoughts. He followed Sarah through the Thaumic Gate. The chameleon napkins shuddered and strained away, trying to return to the Thaumic Realm. Then they went limp, suddenly becoming fleshy powder that dusted away on the faint breeze coming from the gate. Then the pain started. Intact nerves, previously transmitting relatively calming napkin vibes, suddenly registered their reintroduction to the weakness of the flesh and outside air. Chris danced from side to side, the air against his naked skin bringing him to the sudden realization that while his hammer was fine, half his armor¡ªand all his shield¡ªwas long gone. It felt like a bad burn, but spread across his whole body as sensitive tissues suddenly found themselves exposed. Breathing hurt, his lungs felt raw and tender, but less so than his body. He jumped on the spot for a while, cursing everything and anything nearby¡ªexcept Sarah. Even in pain, she had probably saved his life. Then, after he realized that pain interpretative dance was completely non-productive, he dashed as fast as he could toward Kingscastle and the buildings inside. If there was one mercy, it seemed that much of the atmosphere¡¯s strange transmutative properties had been delayed by the mesh of small, almost imperceptible, blood vessels beneath his skin which still sagged loosely in place like cobwebs of flesh. By his best guess, the Slime had kept them intact. ¡°Fuck. Pain. Skill. Fuck.¡± He slammed open the door to the Skill Vendor. Brim didn¡¯t even flinch. He began walking at his usual pace toward a basket, pulled out a crystal, mumbled a few words into it, light shining between the cracks in his fingers.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. 10,000 System Coins. Done. Chris ripped the crystal out of the man¡¯s fingers, pulled it into his body, then collapsed in gratitude on the floor when the pain abated considerably. Not fully, but enough. Enough to reduce it to a dull ache. Damn. It was so much worse without mana in him. Singlemindedness through pain was certainly worth it in some situations, even with the downsides. He lay gasping on his back, shivering from the experience. ¡°What skill?¡± ¡°Pain Resistance, Lord Christopher. F-2.¡± That explained why it was so expensive then. System Vendors probably gave products of equivalent bodily rank¡ªunless they were independently sapient like Blibl. Blibl was too weird to be System generated. That was for sure. To reach an F-2 rank skill, the F-1 version also had to be bought. Buying the F-2 version on its own would be like building the second floor of a house before the first. He lay there for a few minutes more, then pulled out one of the two potions he¡¯d gotten from Blibl. Why hadn¡¯t he used the potion? It would have saved him a lot of problems. He pushed the vial straight into Sid, feeling healing energy fill him and his flesh returning back to normal. Well. Fuck. That hadn¡¯t been fun. Well, he definitely wasn¡¯t trying doing anything as dumb as that again for a while. Visit a mystical realm with strange rules and geometries, see that the air transmutes things without mana¡ªtry moving mana out of your body and into another. The logic was flawless, absolutely sound, completely lacking in fault. No one could have predicted what would have happened. No one whatsoever! Chris grumbled to himself and rolled his eyes. Now he was down to a single potion. Lesson learned. Don¡¯t do stupid shit. On the subject of stupid shit, he checked his Beast Soul javelin. The strange energy inside still persisted, but he was unable to determine its nature. The energy that had been in Sid had disappeared once he¡¯d returned to the tutorial¡¯s realm, though. He removed the Soul Gem from him, before it did anything like turn into a hundred tons of TNT inside him. He was running low on potions, though; so, after a few more complimentary shivers, courtesy of his frazzled nerves, he returned to the settlement control pedestal back in the keep proper. He was running low on potions only a day after he bought more, it would be wise to build an Alchemical Vendor in Kingscastle. He couldn¡¯t go visit Hartshire every time he needed to shop, even if seeing Blibl again would be fun. However, something was still bugging him. When he¡¯d returned to the tutorial, a sense of inhibition that had subtly dropped away, had immediately reasserted itself. The feeling had come from a tattoo he¡¯d almost forgotten about. The tattoo of a small castle on his wrist. That of the Settlement Core. He was almost tempted to run back and attempt to place it within the Thaumic Strata¡ªwithout doing any stupid shit this time. He didn¡¯t want to be thinking from the perspective of a napkin for the rest of eternity. Then he considered that placing the Settlement Core right next to the Thaumic Gate probably counted as doing stupid shit as well¡ªeven if there was an area of stability. It did seem that the System was on his side in this case. The Settlement Core was probably meant for stabilizing parts of the Thaumic Strata and bringing them into the System. It would likely have the same effect as the gate did, but on a larger scale. It was certainly interesting. That was for sure. It was also very tempting, but he reined himself in. No more stupid shit. For now. He mentally added, then reminded himself to thank Sarah later. He¡¯d been a bit occupied previously. Besides, he¡¯d just spotted something very interesting on the building listings. Beside the System Alchemical Vendor buy button was a small arrow¡ªsomething he hadn¡¯t seen before. It expanded down to reveal two options. Option one: Boring fucking System generated human. Though he might be misreading what the System was implying. Option two: The Messiah herself. She of the most radiant eyebrows. Bringer of life-sustaining discounts. She of the most definitive and unquestionable humanliness. Oh, fuck yes! Chapter 49: Shrine Whether it was because he¡¯d met her before, or owned a settlement in which she already existed¡ªBlibl was available as a System-assigned¡ªrather than generated¡ªAlchemical Vendor. He mashed the build button as hard as he could. He rushed down to street level as the building began to assemble, grinning like a fool. He spotted Sarah entering the settlement, walking dazedly through the gates. The other four humans, who had since exited their houses, gathered around to watch. Sarah joined them a moment later. Chris felt gazes dart between himself and the Alchemical Vendor. Oh, right. He must look strange, being half naked and half armored. ¡°No one go inside,¡± he cautioned, then jogged over to the General Supplies Vendor to get some clothes. The five people were still standing outside, looking none the worse for wear, when he returned¡ªnow divested of his armor, wearing a set of comfortable, well-made clothes, and with his hammer in hand. He stopped by Sarah as he passed her. ¡°Thanks, by the way, for your help back there. And, uh, sorry, things get a little crazy around here.¡± She nodded noncommittally, probably still trying to purge the images of Chris¡¯ napkin-skin from her mind. Chris continued on, walking forward. Standing in front of the door, he turned to address everyone else. ¡°Rule number one: don¡¯t attack Blibl. She¡¯s stronger than you. Rule number two: when Blibl is wearing her eyebrows, you will act as if she is a human. That is non-negotiable.¡± He stepped aside, giving his five new citizens the opportunity to enter. He pushed the door open. ¡°Go ahead.¡± The five of them filed in, Sarah entering last and bumping into another¡¯s back as the front of the column suddenly stopped in place. Chris grinned. ¡°Don¡¯t say it.¡± Slowly, the procession continued in and he finally stopped inside. Things were a little¡­ different. Stacked around Blibl¡¯s counter like a holy shrine were bundles of flowers, letters, and drawings¡ªall slightly translucent and unreal. He gave some of the objects a poke. They were solid, but he was unable to move them. He poked at the letters, reading some of their contents. Color rose to his cheeks. They were love letters¡ªwith different letters complimenting, often contradictory, parts of Blibl¡¯s fictitious appearance. According to only the visible letters, Blibl had eyes like pale smoke, eyes like midnight stars, and a kaleidoscope of other shades. That was just the eyes, eyebrow compliments were even more frequent, as well as various deviations into how she wore a radiant mantle of coupon clips. There was even some¡­ well¡­ smut¡­ He heard an intake of breath from behind him, at the same moment a squishy form landed on his hair and a little blob of Slime wiggled in front of his face. ¡°Lord Christopher, stop being a pervert? Don¡¯t read Blibl¡¯s love letters,¡± Blibl danced in front of his face¡ªcontinuing with her method of movement based communication. Chris coughed and stood back up. A small snicker came from behind him. Had they seen what Blibl had said as well? Blibl launched off his head, back onto the counter.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Chris rubbed his rumpled hair, looking back at the five humans behind him. All of them seemed to be shifting between a blend of confusion and amusement. ¡°Um, this is Blibl, she¡¯s the human alchemist for Hartshire as well.¡± Blank faces at that. ¡°Hartshire is another human settlement nearby. It¡¯s a lot bigger.¡± He looked back to Blibl, just in time to see her finish wobbling something to the humans behind him. ¡°How are you both here and there, by the way? You are Blibl, right?¡± Blibl did a little hop, circle, and shake of agreement. ¡°Blibl is Blibl. Blibl is definitely Human alchemist. The System helped make a second shop for Blibl. Blibl can do business in both shops independently and know what is going on in each.¡± Blibl paused, then her eyebrows scrunched together. ¡°Have any of the humans had a discount today?¡± ¡°No we haven¡¯t.¡± Blibl¡¯s eyebrows shot up. She vibrated with worry as she jumped down behind the counter-slash-shrine and returned with a bundle of coupon vouchers inside her. Chris felt Blibl¡¯s attention on him. Then she did a little backflip like motion. ¡°Blibl is worried about Lord Christopher. Philip and Bruce just said to make sure you eat your daily nutritional requirement of discounts.¡± Blibl nodded to herself, then wiggled again. ¡°A discount a day keeps the doctor away.¡± Chris stepped back as he realized what had happened. ¡°I¡¯ve already had my¡ª¡± A coupon voucher shot into his mouth. He gasped and spat it out. Only for Blibl to launch another into his mouth from the bundle inside her with uncanny precision. Blibl seemed to tap dance for a moment. ¡°Philip said you¡¯d say that. Eat your discounts.¡± Chris chewed the coupon, surprised to find that it actually tasted quite good¡ªlike a pastry. Not that he wasn¡¯t going to get Philip and Bruce back for that. One of the five humans spoke up from behind him. ¡°Actually, it¡¯s vegetables that are good for health.¡± Blibl hopped. ¡°How do you know that?¡± ¡°I used to be a doctor,¡± the man said. Blibl¡¯s eyebrows thickened suddenly. A stream of coupons whistled through the air toward the doctor like machine gun fire. ¡°Begone doctor! Blibl will not let you hurt humans.¡± Chris chuckled as the doctor fled the onslaught of coupons, receding deeper into the shop, ducking behind shelves and stands of potions and alchemical supplies. Blibl followed in hot pursuit, scream dancing as she went. ¡°Begone doctor! The power of discounts compels you!¡± Chris laughed under his breath. The coupons weren¡¯t very powerful, even if they were fast. The doctor would probably be fine. His ego? Probably not. It was entertaining to see Philip and Bruce¡¯s attempt at trolling him back had landed, mostly, on someone else. However, it did reveal one thing. That Blibl was indeed able to communicate between her iterations, and that the Hartshire Blibl was probably communicating with Bruce and Phil right now. It would be worth seeing if that could be turned into a form of long range communication¡ªalthough there were probably better options. It was probably best to check up with them from time to time. They might be going a little crazy over Blibl there. These ones with him seemed far less relaxed and happy go lucky. They¡¯d only turned up recently. At what? Seven days after the first humans arrived at Kingscastle. Where had they been beforehand? There had to be more of them out there¡ªsomewhere. If five of them had spontaneously appeared in his settlement, there would inevitably be more humans from where they came from. Sarah had been quick to save him from the portal, even if she¡¯d been too weak to do much. The others were alert and composed. Except for the doctor. He and Blibl returned just as Chris was deep in thought¡ªalthough, given how the doctor stood slightly apart and kept on glancing at Blibl, he had been threatened on pain of discount to keep away from everyone else. Chris didn¡¯t find it quite so lighthearted anymore. He didn¡¯t know precisely what was going on. Sarah didn¡¯t either. ¡°Why are we here?¡± she asked. ¡°Well, I wanted to buy a couple of potions, and make sure you didn¡¯t accidentally get yourself killed by attacking the various Vendors here.¡± He inclined his head toward Blibl. ¡°Are any more of them¡­ like Blibl?¡± another of the humans behind him said. ¡°Nope. Just Blibl so far.¡± Chris quickly bought several more F-2 rank health potions. He wanted to test if he could store them inside his arm, like Blibl did with stuff. He tapped Sarah on the shoulder when he left, gesturing outside. He needed to find out what was going on back on Earth¡ªassuming Sarah hadn¡¯t been transported elsewhere. Then he¡¯d need to get some more armor; he always seemed to be buying more armor these days. Then, if everything worked out, he wanted to get his Class Skills. He assumed that, taking a hint from the name, such a thing would require him to plant the Tower Seed. Chapter 50: Tower Seed Chris shook his head as he walked, leaving Kingscastle behind him. He¡¯d gotten the necessary armor and shield that he¡¯d been missing¡ªas well as food, water, and a few basic supplies stuffed in a backpack. He¡¯d talked with Sarah before he left. The situation was bleak, to say the least. Animals were mutating left, right, and center. The worst of those came from the coasts, oceanic horrors crawling from deep sea trenches to dry land, wreaking havoc on a besieged humanity before slithering back into the deeps. Those in the cities had it worst. Rampaging beasts released from zoos had toppled skyscrapers and apartment buildings like toy towers¡ªconsigning all within to tombs of glass, concrete, and twisted steel. The geography of the world had begun to shift and strange flora and fauna sprung out of these places. In others, great gaping tears in the sky released floods of alien soldiers who could only be put down with military grade explosives and high caliber rifles. Most technology had been rendered inoperable by what Sarah had called the apocalypse and, as far as anyone could tell, the moon was just gone. Earthquakes had wracked the planet and across the world, the climate had been changing beyond any capacity to predict. The sun was smaller, but compensatorily brighter, and the sky was an even deeper blue. And, lacking a moon, the nights were incredibly dark¡ªrevealing a sea of stars and unfamiliar planets hanging in the sky above them. In brief, it was chaos, and most of humanity was already dead¡ªwith the rest of the world soon to follow in their footsteps. As Sarah had called it: the apocalypse. There were glimmers of hope. Whether it was true or hearsay, a few bastions of humanity had risen to fight and reclaim the darkening planet. The military had also been putting up a good fight, but some of the monsters appearing were heavily armored. Guns were useful, but they weren¡¯t always enough. Not against dense flesh and armored plating several inches thick. With all the world¡¯s factories and supply lines ground to a halt, ammunition and explosives were now a non-renewable resource. But, most of all, the biggest killer¡ªparticularly in the cities¡ªwas hunger and thirst, leading to migrations out of urban areas, harried by mutated animals and otherworldly predators as they went. The tutorial would last a year, at which point everyone would be teleported back to where they came from. Most of the humans to Earth. Chris to Xal. So much had changed, even in a single week. Chris had wanted to return to Earth after the tutorial ended, now he wondered whether it would even be there when he returned. It was a sobering thought, and one better not dwelled upon for too long. If he could return now, would he? Would it be enough? Chris sighed and pursed his lips together. Definitely better not dwelled upon. He looked behind him. He should be far enough away. He didn¡¯t want to try planting the Tower Seed inside the walls of Kingscastle. It would be one hell of a thing to explain if his settlement got crushed by a tower that just popped up out of nowhere. This would be as good a place as any. He placed the Tower Seed down on the ground. It burrowed into the soil and Chris took a step back as he felt the ground shift and rumble beneath his feet. The ground heaved and buckled. Chris ran back farther, putting distance between himself and whatever was trying to escape the earth. The force pushing upward intensified, until, with one final heave, a small shoot with two tiny leaves pushed itself out of the ground. Was that all there was? Was he seriously going to have to play some goddamn farming simulator to get his class skills? Then dirt exploded upward as the sprout suddenly shot upward, geysering up into the air upon a beanstalk like those of story and fable. It was strong and thick, the circumference of two people joining hands and gave off an air of green majesty¡ªthe quiet pride of the oak.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Broad leaves pressed up against the stalk as it rose higher and higher, penetrating a low-lying bank of cloud that had spontaneously appeared and disappearing out of sight. It must have been visible for miles, maybe more. As suddenly as its growth had begun, its ascent halted and the leaves pressed tight to the stalk unfurled in a spiral around the plant, creating a precarious staircase of wide leaves. Chris walked up to it and placed his foot upon the first leaf. It was more stable than it looked. The leaf held his weight as he went for the next. Soon he was circling the stalk, climbing higher and higher. Reassured by the consistency of the leaves, he began jogging up, before breaking into a sprint. The top was still a long way up. As he ascended a slow wind began to tug at him, strengthening as he climbed higher. It whistled around the stalk, threatening to dislodge him but never attempting to do so in earnest. Still, Chris placed his free hand on the stalk to steady himself all the same. It wouldn¡¯t be worth getting blown off by an overly strong and unexpected gust. He was high up now, two thirds of the way there. Kingscastle was the size of a coin below. A fall from this height would likely kill him. Honestly, he should have seen if a parachute was available. Not that he expected something like this in the first place. But there was no time to go back now. The threat of what he thought of as the tower vine was implicit. Just as the markers above the settlements indicated to all nearby that a town lacked Starter Protections, the height of the vine was a clear signal to any who wished to cause problems. Chris had little doubt that the tower vine had some useful properties, or at least that messing with it in some way would benefit anyone who dared to do so¡ªshould its owner to prevent them. Still, the inherent and unknowable time limit didn¡¯t prevent him from looking around. From this height the settlement markers were on a similar level to him and he could see miles beyond the horizon line at ground level. He didn¡¯t have much time, but in the distance was a range of mountains. Near the mountain¡¯s feet lay a colorful purple forest that sprawled luxuriously up against a sinuous, glinting river. In other places steaming hotpools belched out fumes and towering geysers of bubbling water. Plains and forests occupied most of his view, but at the horizon he thought he saw a red glint of fire and blasted rock. A volcanic region? And dotted through all of this, was the occasional settlement, markers of all different colors flaring and dimming above them. He even saw the edges of a few markers poking up over the horizon line¡ªit was good to know that this wasn¡¯t the limit of the world¡¯s size, and that whatever planet they were all stranded on was spherical. After a moment more to appreciate the view, Chris darted up the final stretch of the tower vine. He passed through layer upon layer of cloud, thick and choking white around him. Then, finally the cloud thinned and he saw blazing blue sky and sunlight around him. The tower vine extended a little farther up, maybe a hundred meters or so. At its top, beyond the glare of the sun, he could just see the gem of the Tower Seed glinting. Interesting. It hadn¡¯t been consumed. Wanting to test something out, he summoned his Beastblade and sliced at the tip of a small leaf. Nothing. The leaf hadn¡¯t even suffered a scratch. He hacked harder. No result except almost unbalancing him. One final time, as hard as he could, with [Sunder] active. The leaf remained undamaged. That was good. He glanced up at the Tower Seed again at the top of the vine. He¡¯d probably have to remove it once he was done. Was that the benefit? If someone wanted another Tower Seed could they climb up and steal it? He¡¯d better be quick then. One last thing to test. He placed his foot over the edge of a leaf, closed his eyes, and visualized taking another step. [Danger Sense] didn¡¯t activate. That meant that the skill might not warn him about unsure footing, or maybe it sensed that he didn¡¯t intend to actually go toppling over. Either way he didn¡¯t want to risk it. Chris shrugged off his bag and retrieved a small stick from inside. He pushed a tiny amount of mana into it and it telescoped out. It was one of the supplies he¡¯d brought along with him. He¡¯d wanted to use it to test for traps, since the Tower of the Manifold Adept had sounded exactly like the sort of thing that would have traps in it. The vine reaching up to a plain of clouds was a pretty good clue as to what was going on¡ªit was practically a trope¡ªbut the System was a dick, so it might just let him fall to his death the moment he took a step. Better to not believe the clouds were stable. He tap-tap-tapped at the cloud in front of him. The pole sank in half a foot before hitting something with pillowy firmness. Tropes prevailed! But the System was still a dick, so it was best to use the stick to guide his footsteps. He glanced down, between the spiraling leaves of the tower vine, but there was only cloud below him. That definitely hadn¡¯t been, in any part, stable. Then he turned and gasped at what he saw. A tower of white and gold stood upon a sea of clouds. Using his pole to guide his way, he set off toward it. Chapter 51: The Manifold Adept Chris bounced over the spongy clouds, his pole sweeping in front of him like a blind man¡¯s cane. The tower grew in his vision, but it was still unnecessarily far away. Probably because the System wanted to be¡­ wait for it¡­ a dick. What a surprise. If anything, it firmed his resolve to continue progressing at a measured pace. The pole emitted rhythmic audible feedback as it touched solid cloud again and again. Until it didn¡¯t. Chris kept on walking for two more steps, lost in the rhythm of tap-walk-tap, until he realized what had happened. There was a pitfall in front of him, just waiting for him to plunge through it to his death. He didn¡¯t even see the point of doing so, except for killing those who didn¡¯t cultivate an overgrown sense of suspicion. That was perhaps a goal in itself. More suspicion meant less trust, less trust meant more death. He swept the pole around until he found solid cloud, traced a line from it to his feet, then kept on making his way toward the Tower of the Manifold Adept. He came across three more pitfalls before he reached the smooth walls of the white and gold tower. He looked around. No door. Was it on the other side? Chris frowned. The System wanted people dead, sure, but it didn¡¯t seem so childish as to inconvenience people. That didn¡¯t seem to fit with its agenda, as Chris currently understood it. It clearly wanted to expand, and it wanted Anomalies cleared. It wanted humanity dead, or so it seemed. But why humanity, in particular? There wasn¡¯t much remarkable about humans, except for their incredible potential to lewd anything with two legs and a pulse. Or anything with neither¡ªcase in point: Blibl. So, not killing humans in particular, or not necessarily destroying the species. If it wanted humanity dead, Chris had no doubts they would all be dead. Threshed down then? For what purpose. The System wanted to foster suspicion and acrimony. Was that it? Have all the races of the multiverse put humanity through the thresher in the desperate struggle for resources and spaces in the tutorial. What next? Create powerful survivors? He wasn¡¯t sure. If the System didn¡¯t want more humans, it wouldn¡¯t have brought them all here. But beyond that, its motives became more and more opaque. He didn¡¯t want to go down that rabbit hole anyway, too much time spent thinking was time not spent beating the Tower of the Manifold Adept into a bloody pulp. He gave the Settlement Core tattoo on his wrist a quick glance. Nope. Still inhibited. System didn¡¯t want him using it here. He rapped on the tower wall with his knuckles. It was stone, through and through. Was he meant to knock a hole into it to enter? Chris grinned, he could do that. It would beat going around. It was hammer time. He drew his black metal hammer back, then paused as a flash of gold caught his eye. A girdle of spinning golden scrollwork descended from above, circling the tower like a gilded garter. It spun too fast to make out individual details, the gleaming figures patterned upon it lost in a flowing movement of one image to another. And, as it spun, an image began to manifest. Like a spinning lampshade casting shadows on a wall, so too did the patterns of the descending golden girdle form a semblance of a moving image.
The Manifold Adept was born of a world broken. A planet shattered by errant cosmic power. Its shards hung like raindrops around the cooling planetary core, which itself hung lonely around a barren star. A broken race scrambled from broken shard to broken shard, turning over stones to find twisted scraps of old glory to trade for air and food. Scrappers. To a broken world, the Manifold Adept was born.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Hers no tale of luck and daring, no ode of combat, no rhyme of quick wit and sharp tongue. She was born frail in a crumbling Ruinhold, to a mother already dead. Born of the dead, binder of life. Hers a glory of quick feet and deft hands. She grew from frail babe to frail stripling. She moved like wind long lost to shattered planet and cooling core¡ªgravity himself could not catch her. A youth of leaping from Ruinhold to Ruinhold¡ªeach kept aloft by the same cruel energies that held the wreckage of an old world suspended above the planet¡¯s heart of dying iron. Her feet could find purchase on air itself, and on light when there was none. She spun across the sky in motions unmatched, finding treasure in places unreached. In her youth, the Manifold Adept was a Scrapper. In her age, an artisan unrivaled. But she had been born a dancer.
The story ended too soon. The golden girdle touched down with a whisper and upward puff of cloud. Images brought to life by motion faded back into chaos as the spinning stilled. Chris reached out to touch the golden scrollwork, loss tugging at his chest. His heart leapt as the golden veins shifted and swirled once more. The story did not return, but curves and lines of gold moved into alignment over white stone. Slowly, the gold rearranged into the image of a Slime Battle Alchemist. How he knew it was a Slime Battle Alchemist, Chris did not know. But it was. Every line and curve evoked mutability and recombination, merging and morphing, adding to the self to become more. Chris wondered how much that gold was worth, and whether the tower was the same as countless other System races had visited. How many hands had touched it, knowing its value, and left it be, all the same¡ªin the hope that, one day, it would move for them once more. What would he do to preserve it? Chris had no answer. He didn¡¯t even feel like finding a way to break the tower. It just wasn¡¯t worth it. However, as he stepped forward, into the Tower of the Manifold Adept, he finally felt he knew what the System wanted of humanity. It didn¡¯t want them dead. For whatever reason, it wanted them to have something worth dying for. The last of the golden lines clicked into place before him. Stone melted away from behind the gilt lattice, and moments later parts of the metallic working of the Slime Battle Alchemist swung inwardly open like a wrought-iron gate. The opening was dark, unnaturally so. Chris paused. What would he find in there? Quickly, he shrugged off his backpack and rummaged around inside, looking for his potions. His hands touched glass and for a moment he thought he had found them, but the plane of the glass¡¯ curve was too shallow. Those were his special jars. He continued feeling through his pack, passing several more special jars before he found all six of his potion vials. With a bit of effort, he finally extricated his hand from the bag, then tested placing the first inside of himself. Okay, maybe he shouldn¡¯t think of it in quite those terms. The Slime of his arm rippled and parted as he pushed the vial inside¡ªinto his Slime-replicated bones, where the marrow should be. That would interfere least with his arm¡¯s functionality. He withdrew his left hand and the Slime rolled back into place. He flexed his arm. All good. If Blibl could function while doing something similar, he¡¯d probably be fine as well. Quickly, like slotting in shotgun shells, he added the remaining five cartridges into his bones. He could have his Slime dissolve the stoppers when he was ready to use them. Another flex. Still good. He cleared out the mana from around his meridians, put his gauntlet back on, slung on his backpack. He stepped inside, hammer and shield at the ready. Darkness swallowed him for a moment. He kept on walking and suddenly found himself within a jungle. As if waiting for him to appear, a spotted, cat-like creature launched itself from a nearby thicket. Chris swatted it away, sending its broken form crashing it into a tree. He walked over to it, keeping an eye out. He had made sure his arm was already fed, but he moved toward it in order to get an extra snack. Better too much than too little. There was a path leading deeper into the jungle, he had to leave that to reach the downed monster. He was glad he did. His arm buzzed suddenly, indicating a Soul Gem inside the monster. His arm oozed out between cracks in his gauntlet and spread over the cat¡¯s hide, peeling away layer after layer of skin, flesh, and bone until he found it. A small crystal inside the creature. But this one was odd, unlike others of its kind, it was deep, radiant¡ªcomplex.
Class Skill Gem Name: Alchemical Sustenance
He got a feeling from it, the idea of consuming potions to survive. Beyond the simple concept¡ªwhich was far too niche¡ªthe feeling transmitted felt weak and lacking in depth. It felt like his arm still wanted it though, so he fed the Skill Gem to it. Nothing happened. No absorption. Well, the Assimilation trait did say that the chance of that happening was rare. He stood and moved on, returning to the path and continuing on down it. Maybe stronger monsters inside the tower would have better Skill Gems. Chapter 52: Nemesis Chris continued on the path through the jungle. He¡¯d killed plenty more of the cat monsters. About half of them had Skill Gems, but all of them felt incredibly niche. They were all fed to his arm, to no effect. The Assimilation ability failed to activate. It was only when the jungle closed around him further like a humid green blanket, and the cats became progressively larger as he delved deeper within¡ªalways following the path. Chris kept on walking, when suddenly his foot snared against the ground. He tried to pull free, but he was stuck fast. Seemingly dry and dusty, the ground beneath him rippled suddenly as hairs swum beneath and around his feet, latching on to his armored ankles. For a moment, the ground looked like a churning sea of carmine mud, before the hairs swept forward in a wave, revealing a ruby, vegetable maw ringed with radial, inward pointing teeth. It was a carnivorous plant¡ªa mix between a pitcher and a fly trap. Chris was firmly tangled in the pads and hairs of one of its two jaws. He tried to pull away but the plant-flesh was unstable and threatened a fall whenever he was about to extricate himself. The jaws began turning inward, pulling away like a trapdoor, rotating down into a yawning pit of clear, undisturbed liquid. Acid. Honestly, calling it acid was probably insulting on behalf of Slimes anywhere. And while he was uncomfortable completely claiming Slimes as the home team¡­ well, he wasn¡¯t on team Venus Chris Trap. He swung his hammer against the other jaw of the plant, then realized that probably wasn¡¯t the best idea. The weapon landed with a squelch of flying plant juice, then was latch on to fast by a tangle of hairs. Chris tugged at his weapon but almost snapped the carnivorous plant¡¯s trap door jaws closed prematurely. Shit. He pushed back, bracing against the plant¡¯s closing maw, keeping an eye out for the slanting teeth that promised to lacerate him if he tried to pull himself out of its embrace once closed. Bracing was definitely the better option. Prevent it from closing entirely. The plant gurgled as the closure of its jaws stopped. Chris breathed a sigh of relief. He was too strong for some oversized potted plant. There was a rustle from the bushes nearby. Leaves shifted to reveal flashes of a spotted coat. Shit. One of the monstrous cats¡ªa particularly large specimen¡ªprowled out of the greenery, eyes fixed on the struggling prey between the carnivorous plant¡¯s jaws. It licked its lips and meowed, eyeing the plant warily. It moved forward, looking like it was about to leap at him. Then its head tilted, it meowed again, turned so its back was to him, and lifted its tail. ¡°No. Bad kitty,¡± Chris said through gritted teeth. Why? Just why? It was like there was someone out there, who just had it out for him. ¡°Nope. So much nope.¡± The cat¡¯s head turned back, it seemed to grin as it meowed at him one more time. ¡°No! Fuck you, cat!¡± He moved his shield into the defensive position, bracing against the plant as it tried to close again and again. ¡°This is not my feti¡ª¡± He was cut off as the Devil¡¯s firehose began to splash against his shield with a sound like¡­ well, hurricane force cat piss hitting a shield. This better not end up on some alien porn site.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. ¡°No. No. Fuck. No. No,¡± Chris shouted. The smell hit a second later and he gagged. This was not what he signed up for. He was here to climb a tower. Not¡­ watersports. Not getting hosed down by a cat¡¯s golden shower. The cat meowed, looked back at him. It shifted its footing suddenly and Chris struggled to move his shield in time. He managed to block the new target¡ªhis face¡ªbut not before getting tagged on the shoulder. Shit. ¡°I will fucking murder you, cat! Do you hear me, cat? I will end you, and use your pelt to wipe my ass!¡± The cat meowed again, and the stream intensified. Chris turned his face away. Dear god, what the fuck. Why? Why? Some malign god had it out for him. The System. This was the fucking System¡¯s fault. If it weren¡¯t for the damn, blasted System, he wouldn¡¯t be in this mess right now¡ªgetting hosed down with cat urine. Face burning and eyes watering as the barrage continued, he silently vowed to himself that no feline creature would survive his wrath. Nothing with four legs and whiskers would ever menace humanity again if he could help it. And dear god, he was going to find a way to ruin that fucking cat, if it was the last thing he did. Once the thing stopped peeing. Tears ran down his face¡ªfrom the smell or shame, he did not know. But, oh god, he was going to murder every last fucking one of the pissy kitties he saw in this god forsaken jungle. One way or another. If he had to come back as a ghost, so be it. He¡¯d haunt every goddamn cat monster to death. He¡¯d read a lot of books, once upon a time. Suddenly, the concept of honor and face didn¡¯t seem so foreign. He was going to exterminate the cat¡¯s family line a thousand generations back in all directions. And god help any catgirls he came across¡ªsorry, Bruce. This would not stand. This was fucking personal. Finally the cat stopped and purred in satisfaction. Chris turned back and peeked past the shield, ducking away as the cat tried for one last parting shot. ¡°Motherf¡ª¡± He switched hands on his hammer, so the weapon¡¯s handle was held in his shield hand. He plucked the Beast Soul Gem filled with Thaumic weirdness from his pocket and hurled it at the cat with all his shaking fury. The stone clipped the monster¡ªand a monster it was¡ªon the hindquarters, sending it screeching forward with a leap. The cat turned to face him with an accusatory glare, as if it hadn¡¯t just tried marking him while he¡¯d been indisposed. ¡°Yeah, fuck you, cat!¡± The cat seemed about to leave, then it turned malevolently toward him. It slunk forward and its paw snaked out to reach for him. Too short. It scratched at the bottom of the carnivorous plant, avoiding the sticky tendrils of its jaws. The carnivorous plant trembled at the attack, and for a moment Chris wondered if he could get the cat to attack the plant a few more times. No. The cat didn¡¯t seem to like that idea. Instead, it tried clawing at Chris once again, coming perilously close. Chris¡¯ muscles strained from pressing against the plant for so long. But vengeance was required. Suddenly his Beastblade formed in his hand. The cat monster had overreached in its attempt to claw at him. Now it found itself hooked by the curving, khopesh-like blade of the weapon as it tried to retreat. The cat yowled and screeched, but the weapon had caught in its pelt and the flesh and bone beneath. ¡°Fuck you, cat.¡± With a victorious grin, Chris yanked on the weapon, sending the malevolent creature plummeting into the acidic pit of the carnivorous plant. Eyes still burning, limbs trembling, Chris watched with glee as his nemesis thrashed below¡ªits flesh slowly and painfully dissolving. Now with clear room to think and breathe¡ªnot that he wanted to do the latter with the stench of cat pee on his shield¡ªhe began hacking at the area of plant maw surrounding his hammer. His Beastblade stuck each time, but he simply vanished it and repeated the process. Tendrils severed and he quickly freed his hammer from plant¡¯s jaw, although strips of plant flesh and hair still adhered to the surface. Good enough. He barely had time for his trademark catchphrase of, ¡°Oh shit.¡± as now no longer being pried open by a force on both sides, the plant¡¯s maw finally snapped shut, nearly dunking him in the acidic pool if he hadn¡¯t had the presence the scrunch his body up at the last moment. The cat floated below him, still struggling weakly as its flesh sizzled. Chris¡¯ feet were still stuck to the clinging hairs. However, the sticky appendages seemed to be shriveling rapidly. Who knew how long they would hold. He touched the walls, wanting to confirm. They were slippery as a used car salesman. No good. He might be able to cut through them, but that would have limited use. He was probably underground, in a magical tower above the clouds¡ªhowever that worked. He was dangling over an acid filled pit, already half occupied by a dying enemy. Believe it or not. That was only the second worst part of the whole ordeal. What really topped it off was that the pit smelled of cat piss. He''d said it before. He''d say it again. Cats were assholes. Chapter 53: Devil’s Pitcher Chris hung by his feet, but he didn¡¯t know how long the adhesive of the plant would last¡ªnot long, judging by the withering filaments of sticky plant hairs around his feet. He felt his arm indicating the presence of a Skill Gem within the cat monster beneath him, which had just moments ago met a particularly gristly end to the carnivorous flora¡¯s acid. He suspected that his arm possessed a degree of acid resistance, but he doubted that would extend to the rest of his body. Best not to test it. The Skill Gems he¡¯d found within the monsters up until now had been overly niche. Useful in their own rights, but not really functional beyond a few very particular functions. Surviving off consuming potions had been the first, but then there was other types of Class Skills. Tincture applications to the eyes having more effect¡ªtoo lengthy; accelerated metabolism when using potions to decrease warmup time¡ªtoo costly in terms of ingredients as the active time was also shortened without being intensified; apply potions through bite¡ªhe didn¡¯t have sharp teeth and he didn¡¯t want to give monsters hickeys. In short, all had been lacking in utility for him¡ªit also seemed to be predicated on alchemical specialties. He hadn¡¯t found anything pertaining to Slime. All in all, going after the Skill Gem was not worth it, so he pulled his extensible pole from his backpack, then rocked toward the hole in the plant that his attacks had left. He shoved his hand through, then lengthened the pole. Chris fell back moments later, but his work was done. The pole in his hand braced against the relatively solid back of the carnivorous plant¡¯s jaws and now he had a more stable base to ascend from. He grabbed at his hammer, yanking at it until the degrading adhesive released it, then swung his body upward through the hole. Sticky hairs clung to him as he brushed past, but, weakened as they were, they were unable to get much purchase. He was home free mostly. His legs were the most entangled, but after a few tugs they too escaped the prison of the carnivorous vegetation. Stinking and sodden, he slithered out of the green deathtrap and looked around. There. On the ground, in a small divot beside the plant¡¯s closed jaw, he saw a pulsing, starfish-shaped organ of plant flesh. It was a bruised purple color with an internal orange hue. Bingo. He moved closer and saw a thick cord that continuously bulged and jerked. He peered back into the pitcher-like trap, yep, the acid levels were rising slowly. Switching his hammer to his shield hand, he resummoned his Beastblade and severed the vibrant organ from the rest of the plant in one stroke. He didn¡¯t expect the starfish-shaped organ to suddenly screech and uproot itself, scuttling across the path and into a nearby cluster of bushes. It was too slow¡ªnot meant for traversing the forest floor with any degree of rapidity. Chris pinned it like a fish beneath a harpoon¡¯s point, letting the limbs of the starfish curl up around the blade of his weapon. He reached down, grabbed a limb, and tore it apart with a quick tug. Honestly, he should have been more prepared for a trap or a creature that acted like one. Hell, he even had an extensible pole precisely for that purpose. He¡¯d just been taken off guard by the jungle, put at ease by an obvious lack of mechanical traps that could be placed within a living jungle. Lessons learned. He felt his arm vibrate, and with excitement, he looked down to see the Skill Gem sitting at the center of the rent asunder creature. He raised it to eye level.
Class Skill GemThe narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. Name: Carnivorous Pharmacopeia
That was interesting. It felt stronger than the other Skill Gems, it also felt more in line with the nature of the monster. The other ones felt like trash Gems meant to be allocated to trash creatures¡ªcats absolutely being trash creatures. This felt as if it shared more of the monster¡¯s nature. A ravening hunger for life, a wish to consume and consume and consume, picking the right prey to sweep into its earth-bound stomach. It had failed that last goal. Of course it wasn¡¯t purely that. The Skill Gems all seemed to have some relation to artifice with them¡ªoften alchemical in nature. Carnivorous Pharmacopeia was no different. Consuming flora and fauna would give him the ability to tell what a certain plant¡¯s properties were. It was an Identify type skill activated by eating stuff¡ªgenerally, that might be a problem, but he had what was basically a living stomach with poison resistance attached at the shoulder and flowing through his veins. The skill wasn¡¯t bad. In fact, it was pretty good. However, Chris was almost certain that something similar existed in the Skill Vendor back at his settlement. It wasn¡¯t worth filling a Class Skill slot for. So, hesitantly, and scared of making a mistake, he fed it to his arm. And, finally, after a long series of failures, he had a success.
Trait Assimilated! Carnivorous Pharmacopeia (Devil¡¯s Pitcher)
Excited, he reached down, tore off a single arm of the starfish organ of the plant and fed it to his arm. As acid began to dissolve it, knowledge flooded his mind about the Devil¡¯s Pitcher. The irony of using its own skill on it was not lost to him. The plant was an ambush predator, obviously. However, what he hadn¡¯t known was that the Devil¡¯s Pitcher started as a scavenger. After feeding on a corpse that the mobile starfish organ encountered, it would begin producing a sack-like pouch that would eventually become the pitcher. That pitcher lacked major alchemical properties of its own, but was capable of burrowing down to become the pitfall. The star itself had properties useful for adhesives and acid intensifiers, it had uses in potions that he sensed he wasn¡¯t strong enough to be able to make out¡ªmaybe due to his Slime body rank, if he leveled that up, he might get more info. Still, that was two things that he knew for sure, even if they were easily guessable. He stared at the remaining parts of the plant organ on the ground. Three choices. Eat, store, leave. An adhesive might come in handy, it had nearly incapacitated him, but its effectiveness was in part due to the plant¡¯s soft, squishy inner body that thwarted struggling even from high strength enemies¡ªsince doing so would often result in more of their body becoming ensnared and further preventing movement. Not wanting to waste too much time¡ªhe wanted to get a few more Class Skills, then get out¡ªhe shoved the Devil Pitcher organ into his pack. As long as he kept it, he choose one of his other two options at any time as circumstances permitted. Then he was on his way. What he really wanted right now was a way to wash off the cat piss without absorbing it into himself and learning what its alchemical properties were¡ªprobably stink bombs or some nasty, grimy shit like that. Honestly though, he didn¡¯t have time. He jogged forward, his hammer transferred to his right hand and his pole in his shield hand¡ªprobing the ground ahead. When the next cat monster jumped from the trees, he did not hesitate, swatting it mid-leap with extreme prejudice. He check its Skill Gem. More trash. Into the Slime it went. Nothing. Several more cats went down¡ªnone of them yielding anything useful¡ªbefore Chris found the next Devil¡¯s Pitcher. This time he was ready, as the adhesive hairs tried to latch onto the pole he jerked away, knelt down, and lobbed a loose rock onto the revealed ruby jaw. The Pitcher closed around it and the two jaws¡¯ undersides seemed to meld once more into the dirt color of the jungle path. Did the plants have a camouflage ability? Interesting, he might get a Skill Gem with something similar¡ªalthough he didn¡¯t know how. Or maybe it was a reagent for a potion that would give him chameleon skin without making him become a table napkin like the Thaumic Strata had. Interesting, interesting. He reached down to rip the Devil Pitcher¡¯s starfish shaped organ free, suddenly hearing something sharp scrape against his gauntlets. Some sort of attack? Poison probably, the attack didn¡¯t feel particularly strong¡ªor maybe the Pitcher just wasn¡¯t specialized for melee. A sudden shock of pain might give it an opportunity to escape, even if it lacked poison. He continued onward after tearing it to pieces and shoving it into his pack¡ªno Skill Gem; his pace and heartbeat quickened as he spotted ruins up ahead. Chapter 54: Ruins The ruins were cobwebbed in thin vines that blossomed hundreds of vibrant flowers along their filamentous lengths like gunshots of color. He screened the path in front of him for more Devil Pitchers, then tapped at the vines to make sure they weren¡¯t some terrible predator. They weren¡¯t. They brushed aside, easily revealing odd stonework and strangely stacked columns and rubble¡ªall overtaken by the veil of vines that grew over them. He moved around the ruins, on the lookout for more monsters, but they seemed to avoid this place. If anything, that put him on alert. He stowed his pole and properly prepared with his hammer and shield, giving the latter a good wipe against the nearby vines for the umpteenth time. Near the rubble he saw fragments of wooden and iron poking up in places from the earth, like the fingers of shipwrecks. He moved closer to examine one of the clusters of fragments, almost stubbing his toe through boot on a rock that turned out to be a rusted fragment of a lock¡ªthe remnants of a keyhole visible through half of its broken mass. Whatever door it had belonged to was long gone. He continued through the ruins. Each eerily still and silent, despite the constant background buzz of jungle all around them. He decided to put his new ability to the test once more and plucked one of the flowers. It was something called Lady¡¯s Lace. It grew in areas of higher than average mana density and concentrated mana within the flowers. It was minorly poisonous¡ªnot a problem to him¡ªand its main use was mana potions, but Chris sensed there were other properties he was as of yet unaware of. He plucked several handfuls of the flowers and uprooted a small curl of vines. Maybe he could transplant them later. The ambient mana didn¡¯t seem particularly higher than Kingscastle, so it should work. He continued moving, not wanting to waste time. Things certainly felt more urgent now. The goal was simple. Get in, get Class Skills, get out. A bit of looting for good luck was acceptable as well, but only within reasonable bounds. The Lady¡¯s Lace might be a hint that whatever he was looking for was buried within the ruins, but that seemed like an overly large pain in the ass. There were dozens of them so far. Ugly piles of broken stone squatted between trees and bushes, while some sat in clearings. Chris spotted at least three more of the locks and broken doors before he stopped counting and looking too closely. Instead, he wandered. Until he found it. It was a small, squat, ugly looking building. Made of unflattering roundness and odd pillars, it hunched upon the jungle floor like a beggar. A thick mantle of Lady¡¯s Lace hung over it, festooning each pillar and adding a gaudy cheer out of place with the misshapen aspect it held. And, cloistered almost out of sight by two ugly stone wings, Chris saw the metallic glimmer of a lock set in wood. He stepped forward to examine it closer, then paused. He was pressed for time, but maybe it was better not to be hasty. He circled around, and saw that what he expected to be a door was in fact a wooden chest, banded with iron. He didn¡¯t want to get close enough yet to check, but he was certain that his arm would ping the presence of a Class Skill inside. There just had to be something good in there. Which meant it was trapped. Or dangerous. The fact that no monsters even came close might suggest that the danger was mobile, but limited to this area. If the area was trapped, Chris was sure he would have triggered one by now, so either minimally trapped, or not at all. That indicated danger. So, something dangerous.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. The Lady¡¯s Lace? It didn¡¯t react to being plucked and when he consumed it, nothing was mentioned about an ability to induce fear or kill anything nearby. The worst thing about it was that it was slightly poisonous, against which the obvious protection was clearly not to eat it. The vine and its flowers hardly choked the area and only grew on the rubble piles. Even if the leaves and flowers were something like poison ivy, it would be simple to just move around the plants. So, why were they limited to the rubble piles? They grew well around naturally elevated mana. So why just them? There had to be something special about them. And if there was something special about the normal rubble, the undisturbed building had an even higher mana density¡ªif the thick blanket of flowers and vines growing on it was any indication. Either that, or the other rubble piles were destroyed more recently and close to simultaneously. That was a worrying thought. But there was little he could do about that, and he doubted the Tower of the Manifold Adept would be an insurmountable challenge. He was loath to waste more time, but he found himself needing to check through the rubble pile for clues on what the buildings were. Soon, he found it. A strange, articulating joint of stone. High mana density, moving parts of masonry. That was it. The stone structures were designed to move. Probably some kind of golem. The only surviving building was carpeted in vines and bright flowers, which seemed to indicate it hadn¡¯t been activated in a long time¡ªand yet the monsters still avoided this area. He was reluctant to approach the building, but at the same time, he felt he had to. There was a chest within the building that he had seen. If there was one thing he needed from this place, he would wager that the contents of the chest was it. Cautiously he approached the building, hearing the faint complaint of gears suddenly whirring to life over the surrounding buzz of jungle. Yep, definitely a golem. He lifted his hammer, and, with [Sunder] active, slammed it onto one of wings of the squat building, just as it began to lift from the earth. There was a pneumatic hiss as the limb trembled, then a sound like shutters being thrown open. The building¡¯s wings and strange columns jolted and jerked, revealing them to be segmented legs that clicked into functionality as the golem raised itself. It was a bulbous, spider-shaped golem made of graying stone and covered in a lattice of vines that fluttered in torn shreds from its sudden rise. In place of where a head should be, instead sat the chest, several rivets on its banded metal frame gleaming more darkly than inanimate objects had a right to. The main body of the golem lifted and a rusted metal contraption spiraled up from a point on the roof. Two arms swung forward from the contraption, making it appear like a ballista in profile. The arms ratcheted back as Chris hammered at the insectoid legs of the golem again and again. As a strangely tipped bolt clicked into place and Chris leapt out of the way, just in time and the bolt slammed into the ground by his feet. He heard glass break within the spear and then gas and colorful, steaming liquid poured from the inside. He was already putting distance between himself and the spreading gas when another hammered into the ground at his feet, releasing more of the toxic fumes and forcing him to move farther away. Alchemical bolts. Chris had poison resistance, but it was only resistance rather than immunity. The poison would still have an effect, just like that one with which Gregor had tried to kill him. Becoming impaired by the poison wouldn¡¯t be good, especially if it would lead to him being skewered by the next bolt. If that happened and the poison was strong, nothing would save him. So he ran around the golem, sacrificing most of his opportunities to deal damage in order to avoid the flying alchemical bolts that continuously shot his way. Several times he had to duck as spearing legs tried to pin him down or block his way. The legs weren¡¯t so much of an issue. They had a limited range of movement, and if they moved too far in any direction, they¡¯d inevitable tangle and jostle with another. Then, with a quick strike, as the ballista oriented toward him, he landed a blow cleanly into one of the golem¡¯s spiderlike legs. There was a grinding noise from inside and the leg locked up. Chris smiled, against an enemy like this, a sword or spear would be an unimaginable pain. With a hammer, it was easy as heck. With one leg down, more would follow, as long as he could stay out of the colorful clouds of alchemical toxin the spider golem dispersed with its bolts. Then the spider golem hissed and from the cracks in its stone form, gas began to pour outward. Chapter 55: Spider Golem Chris jumped back as colorful clouds billowed in front of him. Dodging another bolt flying his way, he ducked behind a nearby pile of rubble. Nearby he heard the spider golem grinding and hissing toward him. Curls of bright smoke wafted around the corner, tugged into tendrils of airborne poison by a light breeze. He bolted to another pile of rubble. He felt a rush of wind whoosh past as an alchemical bolt shattered itself against some nearby wreckage of what must be other spider golems. This time, however, no gas came from the broken receptacle, even if the same sound of glass shattering came from inside. It must be out of poison, either that, or the poison was being diverted to do its area gas attack. There wasn¡¯t much of an opportunity to approach it right now, but Chris still peeked upward to see what was going on. The spider golem had veered away slightly, scaling the side of one of the rubble piles. Its chest lid had swung open and with its two forelegs it pulled a nearby tree into its mouth. Did it need more biomass to create its poisons and bolts? Its ballista wasn¡¯t even facing in the proper direction right now. Chris put a hand into his backpack and drew out one of the jars he¡¯d prepared earlier. Inside was a wobbling mass of green jelly with a core at its center. A Slime. He¡¯d been intending on using it to replenish his arm if he ran out of material, but this would do just as well. He set his hammer down and retrieved another. Holding a jar loosely in each hand, he jogged toward the spider golem. Its head and ballista swiveled toward him as he approached. The creature was still shrouded in poisonous fog, but less and less was seeping through the cracks in its skin as it gnawed on the tree. It must have regenerated sufficiently to create another bolt, though. A new barrage hammered into the ground around his feet and Chris was forced to dodge to the side, picking his way over several chunks of shattered stone. As he neared the edge of the poison cloud, he lobbed the first jar. The glass shattered against the chest, but failed to make it inside. The Slime, freed from the jar, stuck to the wooden side and for a moment Chris hoped that it would crawl upward. It didn¡¯t. The Slime, shards of the broken jar glinting inside its gooey green form like glass shards, slid down, then dropped into the surrounding rubble. Damn. Chris dodged as another bolt shot past him. However, this time gas whistled out of it. One last try. The spider golem must have begun replenishing its poison supply. The jar almost went too high this time, but it hit the lid of the spider golem¡¯s chest. The jar shattered and the Slime inside hung between sliding off the back, or into the opened receptacle of the chest. And it just sat there, happily minding its own business. Well, crap. Chris jumped to one side as another alchemical bolt whizzed toward him. The golem¡¯s head tracked his movements and the motion sent the Slime slipping into the receptacle. Hopefully the Slime would find something useful inside that it could eat.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. He ran back to get his hammer as more bolts slammed into the ground, hot on his heels. The spider golem went back to crunching on the tree¡ªalthough how its mouth was able to exert that much force, Chris did not know. Hopefully the Slime he¡¯d thrown in would survive the journey into the depths of the construct. The crunching sounds stopped and he heard the golem begin its grinding walk toward him. He got ready. By now the golem would have stopped emitting its gas. Indeed, there was no characteristic hiss of the poison¡¯s release when he heard his enemy scuttling toward him on stone legs. Then the spider golem¡¯s steps paused. Chris looked around, but saw nothing. Why had it stopped? [Danger Sense] activated too late as the rubble around him suddenly collapsed and scattered as the golem brushed it away with its forelegs. Large rocks knocked Chris from his crouch to the ground. He rolled, just in time as a bolt impaled the ground where his head had been. Too close! Some of the gas caught his skin, instantly causing it to break out in red, bubbling welts upon contact, but Chris managed to push himself up and then charge the spider golem. Two swings with [Sunder] were enough to collapse one foreleg. The spider golem hissed again, and Chris took a step back. However, nothing came out except a thin trickle of Slime stained with an ugly swirl of colors. If he had to guess, adding a Slime to the alchemical processor within the spider golem had probably resulted in making bathbombs instead of deadly poison. He dodged aside as yet another bolt flew past him, but, unlike the previous ones, this too dribbled Slime from inside it. That wasn¡¯t to say there wasn¡¯t a small puff of the gas, but it was on the same scale as a goldfish fart. The golem began to creak and groan as Chris systematically took out each of its legs, until, eventually, the construct collapsed. Its ballista continued to spin, pitching and yawing to find a way to shoot him. He dodged each time. Chris began clambering up the back of the golem, dodging the bolt whenever they fired. He jumped on top of the ballista, which suddenly stilled, and wedged his shield into part of the mechanism. The weapon ground and screamed around the shield as it tried to remove the obstruction, to no avail. Chris left the shield lodged inside, then went to knock out the golem¡¯s last remaining legs. The spider golem slumped to the ground, struggling weakly. It tried to release another spurt of gas, but its internals were so gunked with Slime that little more than a weak slimy sputter and steaming of poison exited the golem¡¯s shell. The ballista continue to whine away above, trying to remove the jammed shield. Chris gave it a quick glance to ensure all was well, then ignored it. He moved around to the front of the spider golem and stared at the chest. The dark rivets set in the banded iron¡ªeight of them¡ªstared at him with a mix of hatred and plaintiveness. Its lid-like mouth wide, exposing a gullet ringed with sharp, pulverizing blades, and blackness beyond. He smacked at the chest until it was nothing but splinters, but the spider golem didn¡¯t stop moving, and the blades within continued to whirr intermittently. Chris brought his hammer on the blade, the black metal¡ªNuctite¡ªcrumpling the metal that made up the blades like aluminum cans. No longer able to move, the broken macerators jolted and jarred in place, vibrating violently until, one by one, they failed and fell still. No longer masked by a blur of blades, Chris could see a golden panel sitting just behind the wrecked golem¡¯s teeth. He gave it a light tap with his hammer. Nothing bad happened. The golden panel was ever so slightly recessed, and anything that wanted to normally get access at it would have to get past the teeth first. Odds were good that it was either the thing responsible for controlling the golem, or its ¡®brain¡¯. He reached inside, feeling a notch between the panel and the wall of the recess. He slipped an armored finger behind and tugged. The panel dropped down, dangling from fine silver wires. Chris gave the panel a tug. Taking the panel in hand, he saw the wires were loosely attached to the back of it. With a sharp tug, they came free. The spider golem¡¯s gears ground to a halt and the whine of the ballista turret ceased above. With a pneumatic hiss, the spider golem¡¯s tightly packed stones loosened, showing gaps between, and even light from up above. On either side, he heard the spider golem¡¯s eight abused legs collapse and crumble as the construct lost the force coordinating it. Chapter 56: Alchemical Attainment Chris looked deeper inside the ruined construct. The internals were no longer as dark as before and he thought he could see the glimmer of crystals far ahead. Still, he didn¡¯t for a moment consider crawling through the golem¡¯s stone gullet to retrieve them. Had he been under the effects of mana, absolutely. As it was, it just didn¡¯t look worth it. Not when there were other avenues of acquisition to explore first. Still, the thought made him wonder how much he had changed. He¡¯d actually dealt with the golem rather calmly. Before it all, without mana driving him to stupid deeds, he would have noped out the moment he saw a building rise and try to kill him. Now, it felt like just any other day at the office¡ªan office where he saw a building rise and try and kill him. It had only been a bit over a week, and here he was, laying down the smack on big, dull rock monsters, all for some smaller, shinier rocks. His priorities had really taken a U-turn. If anything, the mana that had once run rampant within him¡ªand still would without intervention¡ªhad left an odd legacy. Eight days to turn him into someone who faced down danger rather than fleeing from it. Yes, that was very odd. As much as the incomprehensible energy had been detrimental, it had also been beneficial. Would he have gotten strong without it? Would any of the newly-inducted humans have even gone out to the barrier to fight the Gnolls if they hadn¡¯t been pumped up on mana? Sure, it would have caused problems when the Starter Protections fell without warning. However, perhaps mana wasn¡¯t solely something that screwed people over until they learnt to control it. As Chris himself had seen, back in Kingscastle, it was very much a poor man¡¯s courage. But how many humans would know how to control it? How many presumably human settlements¡ªwith the golden orbs hanging above them¡ªwould have been devastated by the unrestrained ego that mana imparted? He didn¡¯t really want to know the answer. However, as he pulled out of the golem¡¯s mouth and began clambering up its side, Chris received the first glimmerings of what he wanted to do. There were people out there, aimless and lost. Perhaps Allison, his girlfriend, might even be among them. They were undoubtedly in danger, not only from monsters and Enlightened, but themselves. Even without Traitors stalking in their midst, unrestrained mana lent a significant degree of aggressiveness and narrow mindedness. They needed help. Humanity needed help. And who was better equipped to help them than him? He had so many titles, so many advantages. And he had, for better or for worse, squandered them so far on small things. He wanted more than that, perhaps selfishly, he wanted a legacy, to be the reason that humanity was thriving by the time it left the tutorial and rose up to reclaim an Earth besieged. He nodded to himself. That was a good place to start. Chris reached the top of the golem, then tugged at the ballista on top. It rose upward, as he had expected it to do. A pneumatic hiss sounded from below as several seals and valves released. He lifted the ballista up, farther and farther until the entire contraption pulled free. The ballista sat upon a crystal cylinder half-filled with poison and blobs of Slime. The base of the cylinder was covered in a residue of wood pulp, but beneath the shredded plant matter, he thought he could see the gleam of several Skill Gems. Was that how the golem worked? Did it use Skill Gems to power the conversion of plants into its alchemical bolts? He¡¯d be interested in carrying the entire contraption off with him, if so. He also noticed a braid of silver wire stretching from the ballista like horsehair, running deeper into the deactivated golem. It was the same silver wire as had been connected to the golem¡¯s golden panel. Fascinating. He reeled in the wire, feeling a moment of resistance before it came free in his hands. Like that, he had a ballista and an alchemical processing station. Not a bad haul, if he could say so himself.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. He lay it to one side, along with the golden panel and stared into the newly exposed cavity in the golem¡¯s body. Inside was nothing special, a few tubes connecting deeper inside, and a mash of leaves and wood pulp swimming in a vegetable soup down below. Nothing notable. Nothing lootable. Not easily at least. Given how visible the tower vine was, he didn¡¯t want to tarry too long. He could, no doubt, break open the spider golem and see what lay within. But that would have to wait for next time. For now, he wanted to check the Skill Gems. They were what he had come here for, after all. Most were trash. Powerful, yes. But powerful trash, all the same. Alchemical Agglomeratives aided in combining matter together¡ªlikely for the creation of the bolts. Hardeners solidified those same bolts. Various extraction type Skill Gems pulled toxins and substances from the plants. Others concentrated the poison. Yet more helped aid in developing the nature of the poison¡ªthat was useful, but too niche. There were of course, among the Skill Gems, some real¡­ well¡­ gems. One called Aerosolization allowed for easy dispersion of alchemical mixtures in gaseous form. Yet another, Internal Alchemy, allowed for alchemical treatment of reagents within an enclosed environment. Finally, something called Alchemical Flesh allowed for conversion of organic matter into an alchemical suspension solution. From what he had seen so far, the spider golem seemed to be a walking weapons platform¡ªalthough he still hadn¡¯t seen the mechanism by which the gas was dispersed in a cloud around it, or where all the other plant mulch went. There was certainly more space in the cavity within it, but Chris was getting worried about the time he¡¯d spent inside the Tower of the Manifold Adept. All haste, Chris lifted the golden panel, along with the ballista and the trailing wires. He lifted it all, bringing it back to his backpack a stuffing most of it inside¡ªthe ballista didn¡¯t fit of course, but the golden panel did. His shield was still lodged within the ballista¡¯s mechanism. It was still hosed down with cat piss and stunk like hell. He pondered bring it with him for only a second, before knocking it away. Some things just weren¡¯t worth it. He lifted his pack, hammer, and looted ballista¡ªcrystals and poison vat still attached. Then, he began dashing back the way he¡¯d come from. The Skill Gems were still attached to the crystal vat and he had to caution his arm every minute or so whenever it began slinking toward them. Honestly, Sid acted like a badly behaved child sometimes. He ruminated over what he wanted. He had been immediately taken by the spider golem¡¯s ability to create alchemical solutions based off of what he had consumed. As such, Internal Alchemy and Alchemical Flesh were basically a given. Combined with the Carnivorous Pharmacopeia trait, it would hopefully synergize and turn him into a walking alchemy lab¡ªable to consume materials, analyze their properties, and then spit out potions at will. At least, that¡¯s how he hoped it would work. Those two Skill Gems he would actually absorb, rather than letting Sid eat them and crossing his fingers for a rare Assimilation ability trigger. Aerosolization seemed cool, but he wasn¡¯t a walking stone spider golem. Chris was skin, bone, and a decent amount of Slime. Exposing himself to gaseous potions probably wasn¡¯t the best idea, even with his poison resist. The others were busts. Well, not exactly busts. He might have been a little harsh in calling them trash, they were just too niche and lacking in synergy for him. He only had five slots, and he¡¯d already decided on two. He¡¯d let his arm eat the rest and see if he got lucky. He pulled a few leaves from nearby trees as he ran, then absorbed them. He was pleased to see that one variety was useful in creating soaps. He desperately needed to clean himself off. He stuffed the leaves into a pocket, then plucked the Internal Alchemy and Alchemical Flesh Skill Gems from the poison vat the ballista was mounted on top of. He absorbed them, and they slid into his skin without difficulty, imparting some additional information how to use them. Alchemical Flesh was simple, it changed organic material to a proper potion suspension solution. It applied to his skin and bone¡ªwhich just seemed like a bad idea¡ªbut most importantly it would allow him to modify his Slime to fit the purpose better. From what he understood from the Class Skill, Slime was a pretty decent potion suspension solution already, and magically receptive to boot, needing only a few adjustments to pH and viscosity to serve as the ideal medium for creating potions in. Since it was nearly optimal by default, Alchemical Flesh would require less mass to convert it into a fully-functioning solution. Brilliant! Whereas Alchemical Flesh was simple but effective, Internal Alchemy felt complex from the moment it slid into his skin. He stumbled as all its functions hit him. Damn, that was a lot of information. He couldn¡¯t wait to test it all out, but first he wanted to see if he¡¯d get lucky with more of the Skill Gems. Chapter 57: Alchemical Experimentation Chris¡¯ arm devoured the last of the Skill Gems. He missed out on Aerosolization, but he did get a trait from one of the Skill Gems, called Extraction. The trait gave the ability to better separate out reagents within materials. It was a simple skill, but one with broad utility. With those absorbed, for better or for worse, Chris picked up the pace, back to the entrance of the Tower of the Manifold Adept. He retrieved the leaves from his pocket. Slime trickled out through the gaps in his gauntlet, dissolving, but not consuming the leaves. Alchemical Flesh converted Slime to alchemically usable suspension solution, and then Extraction leeched out various chemicals from the dissolved leaves. That was where the problems began to crop up. He had no idea what the chemicals produced by Extraction did. Thankfully, Carnivorous Pharmacopeia came into its own. Chris absorbed part of the chemicals, and was instantly able to determine the ones which created the soap and lather. He absorbed everything else, keeping only the few chemicals that contributed to making the soap. Then came Internal Alchemy, and a whole new host of problems. It was a very different skill from the others he¡¯d gained so far. All his previous skills did one thing well. Internal Alchemy was not like that. It had hundreds, maybe even thousands, of possibilities. Frankly, Chris didn¡¯t know where to start. He cycled through various different processes, without luck, until he felt a slight prickle in his arm. He slowed his run back down the jungle path and looked at his arm. Was that it? He repeated the previous process. The prickle intensified. He was on the right track! He continued for a while and quickly the prickle became a burning. Was that right? No. No it wasn¡¯t. He jiggled his gauntlet half off, suddenly seeing red and inflamed skin beneath. That wasn¡¯t right at all. He¡¯d poisoned himself. Quickly he tried to remove the poison from his arm, but the Slime didn¡¯t seem to be capable of doing that, its ability to destroy the poison affecting him was much slower than its ability to consume its constituent chemicals. He switched to his Extraction trait, but it was slow going. It should have worked quickly, almost immediately, yet there was a certain block on the ability, a lack of dynamism. He was using it for a purpose it wasn¡¯t really intended for, and its typical speed and efficiency had plummeted correspondingly. Nonetheless, he persisted with it, and, combined with his resistance to poison, the inflammation began to fade as the poison exited his system. That had been¡­ strange. Chris looked into the problem. It had, it seemed, begun when the poison managed to leave the area of Alchemical Flesh. Within that area, chemicals had been easy to manipulate and consume, but once they left, they reacted strangely with the Slime. That same reaction had impaired his arm¡¯s ability to easily and efficiently deal with the poison attacking it. The problem was three-fold. Alchemical Flesh amplified his Slime¡¯s ability to alter, breakdown, and absorb materials, but only within its bounds; liquids inside him would continually diffuse out of that area; and his Slime, when not modified by Alchemical Flesh, was unable to deal with poisons when it was under attack.If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. He supposed the last part made sense. If it was able to just dissolve anything and everything at will, regardless of circumstance, he would be immune to poison, rather than just resistant. Still, he hadn¡¯t quite expected to poison himself, so that had come as quite a shock¡ªCarnivorous Pharmacopeia hadn¡¯t even indicated that poison was possible with the leaves, which meant it didn¡¯t show everything. Internal Alchemy was obviously something better experimented with when he wasn¡¯t in a tower filled with man eating monsters. Alchemical Flesh was still in effect within his arm, so it was relatively easy to push a blob of converted Slime, containing his experiments, out of his fingers. It dribbled through the chinks in his armored fists before draining into the jungle path. Soon, Chris found himself at the pit where he¡¯d had his first run-in with the Devil¡¯s Pitcher. He vaulted over it, then ducked to one side when one of the monstrous cats came flying toward him out of the jungle. Apparently he¡¯d been away long enough for others to respawn, or move over here to fill the territory of their deceased counterparts. While he¡¯d been doing his experiments, he¡¯d transferred his Nuctite hammer over to the hand holding the ballista and its poison vat. Now he fumbled for it as the cat landed in a billowing of dust beyond him, paws sliding to complete a sinuous turn with feline grace. He didn¡¯t grab hold of the weapon before the cat jumped; at the last moment, rather than retrieve the damn thing, he backhanded the monster with his gauntleted right arm. The cat yowled and went flying away, flipping in midair to land on its feet in a crouch. Chris took the reprieve to grab his weapon firmly, then wallop the creature¡¯s torso into a fleshy paste when it tried for a second spring. The monster died instantly and Chris¡¯ arm registered a Skill Gem inside. For a moment, he was tempted to leave the Gem, however, he realized others back in Kingscastle might be able to benefit from it¡ªand if not, he could at least sell it. Also, letting his arm regain a small amount of mass from the cat would be useful¡ªhe¡¯d lost a small chunk in his experiments. The skill the Gem granted bestowed increased efficacy to any herbs consumed. He was tempted to give absorbing that a shot¡ªsince it might power up most reagents he absorbed¡ªbut he decided against it. It only applied to herbs, rather than potions, which made it too niche to use a Class Skill slot on. Meanwhile, his Assimilation ability only worked sporadically. His options were absorb the skill for an all-too-specific skill, not use it, or risk destroying it for a low chance at acquiring a trait. Ultimately, he went with the second option and slipped it into his pocket. No big deal. He wanted to see whether he could give Slime Battle Alchemist skills to his citizens in Kingscastle, or at least feed it to Blibl if not. Actually, with all things Slime in mind¡­ he was sort of disappointed by the lack of Slime relevant skills on the first floor of the tower, but beggars couldn¡¯t be choosers. Alchemy relevant skills would probably be more useful right now anyway. They¡¯d allow him to develop a niche for himself that would fit in well with his class. It took only a few minutes¡ªwithout any more distractions¡ªfor him to reach the entrance. He rushed through the door and almost went sprawling on his ass when a force jerked at him, tugging him back. He felt the seams of his pants scream as a force tugged at his pocket. The Skill Gem. Well, shit. He couldn¡¯t leave with it. It did make some sense. Complaining to himself, he let his arm devour it. Nothing. ¡°Figures,¡± Chris muttered. Mostly because he wanted to fuck shit up, he checked his Settlement Core. Usage was blocked inside as well as outside the tower. Thaumic Strata it was, then. He edged out through the door again, worried about the ballista being pulled back. It passed through without issue. Breathing a sigh of relief, he stepped onto the pillowy firmness of the plain of clouds. He pulled his extensible pole back out and continued navigating around the pitfalls, back to the tower vine ahead. He had a Tower Seed to reclaim. Yet, he was still several hundred paces away when he spotted movement, a head rising above cloud. There was something else moving up the vine. Chapter 58: Thief Chris sprinted forward, muscles straining to reach top speed, before he even got a good glimpse of the intruder. White plumes of feathers crested their head, and as they circled the spiral leaves of the vine, an eagle face was revealed. The eagle faced creature rose higher and now he saw chainmail draped over its shoulders and two large wings spreading out from behind it, draped with tassels of what looked like shining silk. It held a short spear in one clawed, birdlike talon. It rose higher, one step, two, before its gaze snapped suddenly toward him. It loosed a raucous screech in his direction, then began hurrying up the tower vine even faster, reaching for the Tower Seed above. A decidedly non-avian set of hindquarters marked its body from waist to toe, covered in tawny skin and lionlike paws. It reminded Chris of a gryphon, except bipedal. Chris swore and pushed himself faster, veering around and leaping over pitfalls in the cloud by memory¡ªat least no new ones had appeared yet. His load bounced precariously in his hands, but he kept hold. He could see already that the gryphon would reach the top before him. Not by a large margin, but by enough. It wasn¡¯t flying¡ªmaybe its armor weighed it down too much¡ªbut the wings looked large, perhaps not enough to gain altitude, but it would be too much to ask to expect them to not allow the gryphon to glide with ease. If it got the Tower Seed, it was game over. The gryphon kept on climbing leaping from broad leaf to broad leaf, casting glances down toward him. Chris stared at it, then suddenly stopped running. He slung the ballista off his back and placed it down, with its crystal vat of poison acting like a monopod. First things first, he cranked it back, using his strength to pull the thick string into place, where it locked against the catch. Next was the ammunition. He manifested his Beastblade in the appropriate position and fired. The polearm shot toward the gryphon in an arc, before black smoke steamed from its surface. The smoke returned back to Chris¡¯ body, and the Beastblade was gone before it even reached the gryphon. It was a shame too, it had looked to be a perfect shot. Damn. He needed something that wouldn¡¯t disappear before it reached the gryphon. His eyes went to a patch of cloud, where, shrouded in the white pillowy stuff, he¡¯d laid down his pole momentarily. He reset the ballista, added the pole and fired. This one went wide by several feet. Still, the gryphon turned its eagle head to watch the projectile sail past. Its head swiveled back to Chris and it clacked its orange beak, before returning its focus to ascending the tower vine. What now? His only pole was gone. His Beastblade didn¡¯t reach that far. His Beast Soul javelin would have, if it hadn¡¯t been screwed with by the Thaumic Strata, and if he hadn¡¯t used it to piss of a cat and lure it to its death. What could he use? Inspiration struck. He pulled off his right gauntlet and tugged at his index finger. His finger was already hardening to stone, thanks to Stone Form, and as he pulled on it, more stone was eased free. Soon he had a stone javelin which he placed into the ballista. The Slime began to revert back to normal as soon as the rocky finger missile left his body, but it would take a little while for that to happen.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. He angled the ballista slightly higher, then launched the bolt toward the gryphon. It came close, oh so close, but the damn thing was behind the tower vine¡¯s stalk when the stone projectile hurtled past where it had been only seconds before. He reset the ballista, then created another finger missile, this time with his middle finger for extra ¡®fuck you¡¯ vibes. He didn¡¯t know if gryphons counted the middle finger as an obscene gesture, but it was the thought that counted. He fired. Another miss. After the third firing, he began to experience issues. Removing Slime from his arm was beginning to impair the efficacy of its functioning. That was making it hard to reset and aim the ballista. He growled, thinking of what he could do. Then he remembered the aftermath of his fight against Xys. Health potions could restore Slime, right? He had six potions stored inside the bone of his arm right now. For a moment, he felt a tingle as bone and marrow turned to Slime and ate away at the first stopper of the vial¡ªthe glass was fairly resistant to acid. Healing energy rushed through him and he felt his arm bulk out. The gryphon was nearing the top now, so he only had a few chances left. Three more resets and firing resulted in misses. He replenished his Slime again with another health potion. The gryphon was almost at the top, but at that point it would be more exposed than anywhere else. Rather than rush, Chris lined up his final shot. He¡¯d gotten a pretty good range on the ballista, he knew approximately where the gryphon would end up. He waited. The gryphon stepped onto the final leaf in the spiraling staircase and reached toward the Tower Seed. Its back was toward him. That was good. Chris fired. Before the finger bolt left the ballista, he knew he¡¯d missed. Not by much, but by enough. And when you were playing for keeps, if you miss by an inch, you might as well miss by a mile. A little to the left, and no hitting what he¡¯d intended to. The gryphon grabbed the Tower Seed, its wings quivering behind it. It cradled the gem in its talons like a precious egg. Then it stiffened. It spun around, realizing it still had someone shooting at it. The turn brought it into the finger missile¡¯s trajectory, with moments to spare. The projectile, half reverted to Slime in its flight, splintered and splashed against the gryphon¡¯s chainmail-covered shoulder. The gryphon was kicked back by the force, cawing in surprise. The spear and Tower Seed slipped from its talons and flew through the air as the gryphon tried to flip its suddenly falling body. The creature managed, and moments later, its wings flared and its descent suddenly halted, pulling into a glide. The gryphon reached for the Tower Seed too late as it plummeted down, swallowed by a cotton swab of cloud. Chris picked the ballista up and took his hammer into his right arm¡ªnot bothering to replace his gauntlet, no time. The gryphon circled down, obviously trying to spot the fallen Tower Seed, but frustration was written on its aquiline face, no doubt unable to precisely tell where the crystal had fallen. Chris could empathize, the cloud was difficult to see through in places. Trusting to his memory, and hoping no new holes had opened up, he sprinted forward. Puffs of cloud were kicked up as he ran forward, dashing around where he believed the pitfalls lay¡ªit helped that there weren¡¯t many of them, so he went a little wider than necessary to compensate for a hazy memory. The gryphon had landed and now began scrabbling through cloud with its talons. It found its spear first, then screamed angrily, its bright pink worm of a tongue flapping like a pennant within its open beak. It tore at cloud faster and faster, trying to find the fallen Tower Seed before Chris did. And Chris was on his way. He slowed to lay the ballista down on the tower vine, which had slowly begun to wither and shrink, then sped toward the gryphon. He summoned his Beastblade, trailing it over the cloud ahead of him, just in case any pitfalls lay ahead of him¡ªhe hadn¡¯t walked on this region of cloud before. Nothing blocked his path. He vanished his Beast Soul Weapon and took his Nuctite hammer in both hands. As the gryphon raised its spear, Chris leapt and brought his weapon down. Chapter 59: Battle in the Clouds The spear rose to meet Chris¡¯ hammer, and Chris saw the spearhead was made of a golden metal that shimmered in the sunlight. Bright blue gathered around the blade and Chris could almost feel the notion of sky in the energy condensed around the gryphon¡¯s weapon. His enemy had a Dao! Too late to counter with his own Dao his hammer struck the spear, and was swallowed by a vastness that reached out toward him. The hammerhead fell through it, absorbed by the vastness, yet went nowhere, still attached to the haft in his hands. His [Danger Sense] began to activate, first a low whine, rising to a warning screech. Chris pulled back, yet his hammer seemed to go nowhere. He channeled in a small amount of Suppression and his weapon came free, released from the hold of the gryphon¡¯s Dao. Small lacerations covered the hammer¡¯s surface, nothing major, but enough to see the power the gryphon wielded. The sudden release made Chris stagger back, not in time to prevent the gryphon¡¯s spear from pinging against the armor of his left shoulder. When the spear head withdrew, there was a tiny crater left in the metal, a bullseye around a ring of crisscrossing abrasions. The gryphon had struck like a snake, and now it struck again. Chris bashed at the haft of the spear, scoring a hit on the weapon, and knocking the attack off target. Trying to keep his opponent off balance, Chris dashed in, reversing his strike, bringing his hammer toward the gryphon in the other direction. The creature¡¯s eyes narrowed, then it hopped back, choking up on its spear to shorten its effective length¡ªcountering Chris¡¯ attempt to move past it. Chris would have cursed, if he hadn¡¯t noticed the gryphon was favoring its left shoulder. Where the ballista bolt had struck its left, the chainmail was torn and corroded. He fancied that he could see drips of Slime still caught beneath the skin, burning flesh and feather. Up until now, Chris hadn¡¯t even realized it, but the gryphon was keeping him to its right side. It had even shortened its reach by keeping its left shoulder away, with the result that it wielded the spear like a rapier. He had a feeling the gryphon was physically weaker than him, but well-trained, and with a strong Dao. From its armor and weapon, it seemed evident that it was an Enlightened, rather than a wandering monster. Even more evident was that the gryphon was hostile. Part of him wanted to take advantage of its weakness and strike it down, while another part demanded he only wound it and send it scarpering¡ªnon-lethal. After all, the System seemed to want conflict between races, and he really felt in the mood to drop a steaming turd on the System right now. Still, the fact that the gryphon had tried to steal his Tower Seed was not without consequence. That reminded him, he still needed to find it. The damn crystal had to be somewhere in the sea of solid cloud upon which they fought. While Chris hesitated, the gryphon made his decision for him. It lashed forward like a viper, its wings suddenly flaring. The gryphon¡¯s ribbon-covered wings thrust backward, propelling the bird-lion fusion of a creature forward. The Enlightened¡¯s glowing blue spear broke through his armor, then flowed through skin and muscle beneath. Chris gasped, more out of expectation than pain. Where the spear had punctured, he felt¡­ absent. He looked down, there wasn¡¯t any blood or Slime or flesh visible at all from the sky-like blue glow that suffused the spear. It was like part of him had just vanished. The gryphon clacked its beak, eyes displaying triumph despite the language barrier. It pulled back, and as it did, the Dao surrounding its spear faded. Chris stumbled as sensation returned with the spear¡¯s absence. Even with [Pain Resistance] the wound was excruciating. He stepped back farther to get away from the gryphon as green and red slush flowed out of the wound¡ªblended by the space-breaking powers of the gryphon¡¯s Dao. He placed his hand to wound, trying to hold himself in as his right arm popped the third health potion and circulated it through him. The healing energies first topped up the mass of his arm, then paused as they encountered blended flesh and blood and Slime. Whatever impediment there was, it ended moments later as the last of the health potion repaired his body, leaving clean, smooth flesh poking out from the hole in his armor. The pain lessened, but an echo of it remained, like an afterimage. The gryphon stared at Chris warily as he took another step back¡ªclearly confused by the regeneration displayed. Without overflowing mana driving him forward, he wanted to get away from the spear. The pain had been bad, despite [Pain Resistance] numbing its effects. Chris took the lull to recollect himself and look around. The tower vine had shrunk lower in the brief time they¡¯d been fighting, and clouds on the outskirts of the area were beginning to tatter away, like icebergs voyaging into open ocean. The pause also allowed him to realize his arm was subtly vibrating, spurring him toward an innocuous patch of cloud.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. He would wager that the Slime was indicating the presence of the Tower Seed. That was his real goal here. To reclaim the crystal. If the gryphon wanted it, so did he. Immediately, he began to inch toward it, maintaining a pretense of circling around his foe. The gryphon obliged, trailing its lion-like paws through cloud as it angled its body around. Its eyes flickered between the circle of exposed skin showing from Chris¡¯ armor and his head. Chris reached the spot, then grabbed his hammer back with both hands, giving the impression of being about to charge. Then, with a shit-eating grin, he crouched suddenly and scooped up the crystal. The Tower Seed sank into his hand without issue, leaving a small tattoo of a sprout behind. The gryphon screeched and charged forward. Chris frowned. It had seen him absorb the crystal. Didn¡¯t that mean it was over? What did it have to gain? Either the Enlightened had a similar mana issue to what he¡¯d had, or there was a way of extracting Tower Seeds¡ªand potentially other tattoos¡ªfrom dead bodies. Chris grunted his frustration, rising to a stand. He batted the spearhead away, then scrambled in the opposite direction. He didn¡¯t want the gryphon to activate its Dao and catch him off-guard. If it activated its Dao, any attempt to knock the spear aside could be nullified, he didn¡¯t want to risk that. The gryphon pushed him harder and harder, its spear continually flickering out. Chris countered each time. Ostensibly, the Enlightened was out of mana, meaning it was no longer able to use its Dao. Without the advantage of the blue energy, he could swear he was a match for the gryphon. Yes, it was better trained, and its spear was likely still capable of damaging his armor, but he almost certainly had it beat in the physical stats department. He could take a hit and potion to heal up if needed, that granted him an advantage. He charged forward after batting the gryphon¡¯s spear exceptionally wide, when [Danger Sense] blazed to prominence. He would have ignored it¡ªhe was expecting to take damage anyway¡ªif not for the crafty gleam in the gryphon¡¯s eyes. Was the Enlightened baiting him? He paused his advance as suddenly as he initiated, thinking back. He didn¡¯t have time. The gryphon capitalized on his hesitation and pressed forward. Once again, Chris was on the back foot, but again and again he saw opportunities to strike, places to attack, if only he went on the offensive. He pushed forward, slamming the spear aside with acute aggression. He began to lunge, then halted as [Danger Sense] flared again. The gryphon recovered slowly and, against his better judgement, Chris took another pace toward his adversary. [Danger Sense] continued to buzz at him. Worse, the gryphon¡¯s shifty look remained. He drew back, and suddenly the battle turned again. He felt himself continually pressured as he struggled to keep up with the pace of the battle. But the discrepancies where becoming obvious. The gryphon was sandbagging. Whenever he paused it shifted to the attack, always able to keep him on the back foot, yet with such glaring weaknesses that even he could see them. That seemed¡­ odd. The enemy Enlightened was obviously trained. Despite being weaker, it continually held the advantage in terms of skill at arms. That was, until Chris began attacking. Yes, he was absolutely being baited. But it didn¡¯t entirely make sense. Did the gryphon still have mana? If so, why wasn¡¯t it pressing its advantage, instead it was entertaining some charade that Chris didn¡¯t entirely understand. It hadn¡¯t used its Dao for long, which seemed like a warning sign, but then again, its Dao had seemed quite potent. Chris wasn¡¯t sure. But still, the enemy had been so transparent in its openings. He didn¡¯t like it. Before the gryphon could react, Chris veered away, filling one of the now-empty vials in his arm with Slime, be brought it covertly to the surface of his skin, then grasped it with his left hand, plugging the neck with one thumb. Hissing, the gryphon closed in, seemingly unaware of the vial. Chris attacked without delay, and the gryphon fell back, suspicious in its sudden incapability. Chris hurled the vial. The gryphon¡¯s eyes became panicked for a moment as it saw the airborne vial, filled with green Slime. Blue light flared around a few rings of its chainmail armor and the vial disappeared. Chris paused his assault. The enemy Enlightened had definitely been sandbagging. But why? If it had mana, it could probably take him out with a concerted effort, but¡­ But it was wounded and¡­ Everything snapped into place. Chris wasn¡¯t fighting one enemy, he was fighting two. Wounded as it was, the gryphon was unsure if it could beat him. It also didn¡¯t need to. After all, the tower vine was withering and shrinking, now that it was devoid of the Tower Seed that had sat upon its top. Once the vine sank enough, it would be a death sentence for him. He¡¯d been baited, with openings that could have been false or could have been real. But the gryphon hadn¡¯t been sandbagging to lure him into a trap. Chris had walked willingly into the trap himself. The gryphon was wasting his time, keeping him occupied. The clouds all around were breaking apart quicker now. The gryphon was fine, it had wings. But Chris? Chris couldn¡¯t fly. He heard the gryphon give a soft, rasping hiss as the blue light around its chainmail faded. Slime and crushed glass dripped down, some oozing inside the rings and presumably hitting flesh, fur, or feather beneath. Chris didn¡¯t rise to the bait this time. He turned heel and dashed for where he¡¯d last seen the tower vine¡ªno longer visible. He was quicker than his avian enemy, he had it beat on stats after all. He¡¯d got what he¡¯d needed, the Tower Seed. He didn¡¯t need to kill himself trying to fight something he didn¡¯t need to. He wouldn¡¯t be a slave to the System; that started with not acting like a slave to his mana¡ªhe had no excuses now. Chris ran away as the gryphon shrieked behind him¡ªhalf annoyance, half challenge. Chris didn¡¯t turn, not even when [Danger Sense] suddenly alerted him. He just dodged to one side. The gryphon¡¯s spear passed him by and buried itself in a patch of cloud a small ways beyond where the tower vine had once poked through cloud. His eyes lingered on the spear for a moment, before flitting away. There were more important things than loot right now. Chapter 60: Varok Prayerwing Chris summoned his Beastblade as he ran, using it to probe the ground ahead of him once he suspected he was near where the hole was. He was already slowing his place when his weapon hit empty air¡ªwell, not quite empty, but filled with cloud, normal cloud. He glanced back, the gryphon was striding leisurely toward him, with a look that Chris would have sworn was smug on its face, despite its inhuman features. Chris had no idea how far down the tower vine was by now. Still, he¡¯d brought supplies for exactly this sort of event. It was meant for the tower, but it would serve just as well here. He stowed his hammer, then reached into his backpack and pulled out the staple of every adventuring party, the rope and grapnel. The gryphon sped up when he saw it, but by then it was too late. Chris dug the points of the grappling hook in near the edge, winced, then jumped off. The coils of white rope fluttered up above him as he fell, then the rope jerked taut in his hands. He slid down quickly, breaking through dense layers of cloud. Stone Form on one hand and a gauntlet on the other saved him from friction burn, but even as he flew down, he could feel the surfaces in contact with the rope heating up. He was moving quickly, but, even so, he could smell singeing¡ªquickly left behind and quickly replaced. Then the clouds were above him, and below, worryingly far, was the tower vine. But he was gaining on it, and that was what mattered. His rope was long and relatively thin, but that of course came at a price. As he descended it, he could see a legacy of scorch marks and frayed threads left behind. Dammit. At this rate, he was going to burn through the rope. With Alchemical Flesh and Internal Alchemy he modified the Slime within his arm, reducing its acidity as far as the skills allowed. Then he undid pinpricks of Stone Form in his right palm and pushed his Slime outward. Soon a slick of Slime coated the rope. It spread, contained, and conducted the heat far more reasonably. The lubrication resulted in less frictional damage to the rope as well. However, that came at a price. Chris sped up. Faster and faster. The rope slid through his fingers as he descended, and he considered stopping pushing out Slime. Maybe he was travelling too fast. He checked his rope and swore. Not much left. Not enough to reach the tower vine, even if it was only a few dozen meters down now. He was travelling fast. Yeah, fuck the rope. He stopped pushing Slime onto the rope, feeling friction reassert itself. It wasn¡¯t good enough. Even with full grip strength, he wouldn¡¯t stop in time, and then he would slide straight off it. He was going way too fast for good health. Desperate, he gripped tighter with his gauntleted hand, seeing smoke rise from beneath his fingers and the first sparks settle in thin, frayed, and blackened cord.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. He rippled the substance of his right hand, then set it back into Stone Form, exploiting the split-second gap of flexibility and malleability to hold as if he was gripping his cock in a hurricane. His shoulders jerked in his sockets, but his grip held. Thread spiraled from beneath his grasp like wood before a lathe. He slowed. The bottom of the rope approached. Nearly there. Twenty meters to the tower vine, nearly there, just a little slower. And suddenly, miraculously, the cord stopped moving in his fingers. So why was he still falling? He looked up, just in time to see his grappling hook fall through the clouds, rope still attached. He glimpsed down. Still going too quickly. Going for a Hail Mary, as he¡¯d done too often this past week, he turned his blood to stone. As his feet hit the top leaf of the withering beanstalk, moments before he blacked out from the pain, Chris realized he¡¯d made a terrible, terrible mistake. [Danger Sense] flared. No shit, Sherlock. The stone in his legs detonated, his petrified veins turning into shrapnel that punctured upward. His bones shattered, and his arms and torso slammed into leaves that were unpleasantly firm and unyielding. The last thing he saw, was the gryphon breaking through the dissipating clouds above him, gliding down calmly on its white and brown wings, spear held in its talons.
Chris¡¯ eyes blinked open. The leaf of the tower vine beneath him was wrinkled and yellowing, like the skin of an old man, yet surprisingly firm. It was also covered in Slime, gore, and what looked like teeth. How was he alive? He felt like shit, like he¡¯d survived a car crash at sixty without a seatbelt, then been hatefucked by the car, before the neglected seatbelt decided to go full Fifty Shades of Grey with him as well. He rolled over, feeling something crunch against his back. He groaned, then patted his chest. Why wasn¡¯t he dead? He wasn¡¯t complaining, mind you. Just surprised. His breastplate was caved in, he could feel it lodged within his body. That alone should have killed him. The fact that he only had one hand to feel it with, should have meant he¡¯d been dead as well. His right arm had been blown to smithereens, all the way to the elbow, a broken bottle of cracked stone teeth ringing where the arm had been. Slime leaked out of the ruins of his stone arm, holding to the surface like a drop of water clinging to a faucet. Half buried inside the stone wreckage of his arm were small crystalline gems and shiny, white powder. Had part of his arm turned to diamond from the impact? Half-delirious from pain, he touched the diamonds wonderingly. The edges were sharp and jagged, and the diamond dust was oh so lovely as they stuck to his damp fingers. It scattered light in such a strange way, shining rays of sunlight into his eyes as the bird wheeled above. He blinked. Not a bird. Not a plane, either. Definitely not Superman. A gryphon. Huh? Hadn¡¯t it been trying to kill him? That would explain why it was carrying a spear. He pushed himself up with both hands, momentarily surprised when only one hand reached far enough down to obey him. His fingers brushed again something that was definitely not the leaf of the tower vine. He looked down, confused. Rope? What was that doing here? He shrugged, he was not going to count his blessings. He pushed himself to his feet, then began limping down the tower vine, leaf by shriveled leaf. The rope trailed behind him, grasped numbly between his fingers. There was a gryphon trying to kill him, best make himself scarce. The System, of course, had other plans.
New Quest! (Optional ¨C Human/Monster) Kill Varok Prayerwing (0/1)
From up above, he heard a defiant screech. Even in his current state, it told Chris all he needed to know. Varok had got the same quest, with one small, itty-bitty variation. Chris descended even quicker. Now he had to really make himself scarce. Chapter 61: Freefall Chris kept on circling down the tower vine, spiraling toward its base. It was a good thing he had decided to move. A shriveled leaf fell past him, dust streaming from its trailing edge like the tail of a comet. It raced down below, but was gone in a cloud of particles on the breeze before it hit the ground. More leaves began to fall. Chris kept on going, mindful of the leaves yellowing beneath him. They still had a ways to go before they went into their death-plunge from the withering vine, but it definitely wasn¡¯t a nice prospect. Always above, keeping pace, the gryphon wheeled lazily, snatching meters away from between them as it approached closer and closer. Slightly more collected as he continued to run, Chris reached for his hammer, still holding the rope in his hand as he reached. His weapon wasn¡¯t there. His pack was still present, but it felt deflated, nowhere near to its original fullness. Stuff must have fallen out. He continued reaching, and felt something sharp and metal. The grapple. By some infernal providence it had landed on his pack, prongs first, slipping down and tearing two large rents in his pack. Chris felt for the rope at its base. There it was. Still attached. He let the rope in his hand drop, feeling dumb. Even if he let it go, it would remain attached. However¡­ he had a great idea. He was pretty sure he had a concussion. But the acknowledgement that he had a concussion meant that the concussion wasn¡¯t too bad. Right? He looped the rope around the stem of the tower vine and rappelled off a leaf. Yeah, this was definitely a good idea. He was descending faster than he could jogging. Honestly, before he was just going in circles, now he was going down at quite a clip. He saw the gryphon suddenly swoop toward the exposed rope. Okay, problem with the plan. Still, easily fixable. He touched down on the nearest leaf, pulling the rope free and letting it snake down and¡­ was that the ballista there? He didn¡¯t mind if he did. He stepped forward, leaned in to pick it up, then was jerked backward as the rope pulled taut on him. Bad idea. Note to self, keep ahold of the rope to prevent catastrophic climbing accidents. He reeled the loose cord in, then picked up the ballista. His hand was getting rather full wasn¡¯t it. And he should really turn his stone arm back to normal. Or¡­ Tiny hands! They were the heroes he needed. He focused on his arm and was disappointed when the flesh on his stump of an arm blobbed and rippled uncertainly before returning to normal. Okay, so they weren¡¯t the heroes he deserved then. He¡¯d get tiny hands eventually. Well, he definitely couldn¡¯t descend by rope, while holding the ballista. He was concussed, not stupid, unlike tiny hands, holding onto two things at once would be unwise. Now, if he had a machine gun so he could descend like a badass, that would be more wise¡­ and cool.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Okay, what else was cool? He eased the ballista into his pack, it was too big and bulky to fall out through the hole near the bottom. Perfect. What next? He could begin rappelling down again. Yeah, that would be fine hopefully, even if it didn¡¯t seem like as good an idea as before. Eh, he¡¯d give it a go¡­ but¡­ what if¡­ He tied a knot in the end of the rope, forming a large loop, as he continued down and around the leaves. Then he pulled free the grapple and tied a knot near the end¡ªhe didn¡¯t trust the grapple to stay secured in his pack for long. He slid his stump of an arm toward the rope between the second knot and the grapple, then let his Slime envelop it. Soon the rope was lodged firmly inside his arm. He turned the vital parts to stone and swung the grappling hook around like some mad pirate fisherman. Oh yes, he was the coolest man alive. God damn. He had a grapple arm. The leaves all stretched out the same distance. They were harder than a priest in an orphanage, and he had a. God. Damn. Grapple. Arm. He looped the rope around a leaf for health and safety purposes. Then he let himself drop, caught himself with his grapple arm, freed the loop of rope above, settled it over another leaf below, and repeated the process. Going was slow initially, but soon he was descending at an impressive pace. Sometimes his safety loop wouldn¡¯t catch, but it wasn¡¯t too terrible. Catching himself with the grapple was a bit daunting and jarring, but the speed of descent was worth it. That speed of descent had freed him from the uncertainty of being near the top of the tower vine if it began to wither, but it also meant that the gryphon, Varok, was no longer plagued by falling leaves. Emboldened by the clear skies, Varok swooped closer, aiming to jab with its spear. Chris just let himself fall one leaf farther. Varok was unable to turn or dive sharply enough, so it was forced to make another pass. The next time, the asshole avian just cut at Chris¡¯ safety loop, shearing it in two. Well, that was a dick move. Chris let himself drop again, but he suddenly noticed that Varok had turned sharply upward, using its momentum to ascend up in an arcing curve, before entering into a steep dive right above. Chris swung to the side, and the Varok shrieked. More than noise, more than sound, in an instant the gryphon¡¯s skill overwhelmed him. Muscles seized, and Slime failed to react in time. The grapple slid on the edge of the leaf, and, deprived of his safety loop, Chris fell away from the tower vine. Varok followed him down, vindictive triumph glowing in its hungry gaze as its enemy succumbed to freefall and gravity. Chris regained control of his body a moment later, but he was already too far away. The first thing he did with his newfound freedom of movement was swear. Then he realized he still had options. He cast out his arm like a fishing rod and the grapple shot forward as the knot suddenly sank through his partially jellified arm, then out the other side. Chris swung with his grapple again, resolidifying his arm and using the greater length to catch ahold of the edge of a leaf as he fell. Then his arm jerked taut as friction took hold again, this time, he¡¯d added a bit more give into the hole in his arm and the sudden change in momentum wasn¡¯t enough to dislocate his shoulder. At least, he didn¡¯t think so. [Pain Resistance] was still up and running. He¡¯d gained more clarity, enough to recognize what he was doing for what it was: the world¡¯s smartest stupid way of traveling. Still, he decided to swing with it. Varok hadn¡¯t properly noticed yet, and the damn bird-lion-thing didn¡¯t notice up until Chris suddenly slammed into it with his Beastblade held in his marginally less cool arm. The chainmail around Varok¡¯s belly tore, and a blue glow began to materialize around the armor, but it was too late. Chris had learned from last time that his Dao clashed with Varok¡¯s, and his Beastblade was thick with Suppression and [Sunder]. Suppression poured into the pesky gryphon. Varok twitched and stiffened, then plummeted in an uncontrolled spiral as its body locked on it, refusing to obey commands. Varok fell. ¡°Fuck you, birdbrain!¡± Chris¡¯ sideways swing slowed, most of his momentum was robbed by his aerial impact with the gryphon, but he was still going sideways too fast, he¡¯d just end up flying in the opposite direction. He winced as he waited for the inevitable, he could already feel the grapple slowly beginning to scrape against the leaf far above, and then he thought back to his idea of machine guns while swinging on the grapple. He lobbed his Beastblade away at full strength and slowly he began to spin in around the center of the tower vine. The black smoke of his Beast Soul Weapon¡¯s return streamed into him, and no sooner did it do so than Chris resummoned it and lobbed it away like a female baby in China during the years of One Child Policy. Once more, twice more, three times. Soon he was spinning around the tower vine like a ribbon around a maypole. Chapter 62: Thrice Called, Thrice Denied Chris spun and spun and spun, when the grapple finally slipped, but Chris was already wound like clockwork around the tower vine by then, the grapple flew sideways and around, catching on two more leaves before it held firm. Chris came to a stop, battered and bruised, but mostly saved from worse injury by his armor. He alighted on a nearby leaf and dropped, panting. Well, damn. That had been close. He lay down, pushed his pack aside, and pulled in a breath. The fading adrenaline reminded him that he still had armor stuck in his chest. He pulled it free surprised to see that the armor didn¡¯t go as far in as he expected, honestly, it should have reached his heart. Actually, so should the shrapnel of his solidified Slime blood. But, as he looked at the metal that sucked free of skin, sinew, and Slime, he saw the metal had been melted and corroded away. By acid. That explained one thing. But turning veins to stone had been dumb. He¡¯d gone with it instinctively, since it had worked with Xys. His instincts had been wrong. His instincts had turned every blood vessel inside his legs and arms into a goddamn grenade. That was the second time he should be dead. He looked at his missing arm, and tapped at his head with his one remaining hand. Falling at that speed should have kicked him, the leaves were unpleasantly hard and his head¡ªeven armored¡ªwas comparatively soft. Hell, even his helmet had a stonking great big dent in it. That made three. What was going on? Was that his Luck stat? Then he remembered his arm. His missing one. He¡¯d been concussed earlier, he¡¯d thought he¡¯d been growing diamond out of himself, which was dumb¡ªalmost as dumb as trying to be a mix of Tarzan and Captain Hook. But it was crystal. Glass, to be precise. The glass from his three potions. Three health potions, each at his bodily rank. Three lethal, or near-lethal injuries. In his bones, that were actually Slime. They must have shattered inside him when he fell. By breaking, they had saved his life. The shrapnel would have killed him along with the Slime loss. The first had fixed the holes and replenished his Slime slightly. The second had allowed the creation of more Slime to dissolve the metal as it shredded his heart and lungs. It wouldn¡¯t be able to dissolve something like that normally, it would burn it out too quickly. But health potions regenned quick. The third had been the head wound, and maybe replenishing more Slime. There were three possibilities: the potion didn¡¯t fully heal the wound; or he was suffering from potion toxicity; or both. In fact, even now that he felt the concussion had mostly passed¡ªsurprisingly quickly, but that was to be expected in a magical world¡ªhe still felt a little out of it. Probably both¡ªtoxicity and a nasty wound. Still, he was alive, that was what mattered. And his enemy was not. He checked his quest rewards, he felt sort of bad killing an Enlightened, but Varok was a dick. He read down the list. Two Class Skills gained, Internal Alchemy, and Alchemical Flesh. Three more to go. A new leveling quest at level fifty. And¡­ ¡°What the fuck!¡±
(Optional ¨C Human/Monster) Kill Varok Prayerwing (0/1)
He was going to turn that fucking gryphon into quill pens and fletching when he next got his hands on that fucking thing. At least the quest was still available. He gazed around, trying to make out that damned pest of a gryphon. He thought he saw movement. Near the mountains, the purple forest, and the bright river. He couldn¡¯t be certain. It was too far away to make out. But it was a lead. There was something there at least.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Still, that battle¡¯s outcome had been gutting. He checked his Status, hoping he¡¯d gotten something in compensation.
Name Christopher Hill
Level 20
Class Slime Battle Alchemist
Race Hybrid: Human (F-2), Slime (F-2)
Cultivation Troll (F-1)
Dao Suppression (Black-Foundation)
Traits Human Potential, Monster Hybrid, Monstrous Constitution, Monstrous Assimilation, Amorphous, Stone Form, Carnivorous Pharmacopeia, Extraction
Titles Genesis of Blood, Prime Underdog, Agent of Self-destruction, Prince of Poison, Makeshift Master, Prodigy, Legendary Prodigy, Unrivalled Prodigy, Horde Disciple I, Xenocidal, Infiltrator, Anomaly Breaker I, Rift Scion, Surpasser, Area Guardian I, Thrice Called Thrice Denied
System Coins 19,693
Strength 83
Dexterity 99
Constitution 123
Endurance 79
Intelligence 78
Wisdom 78
Perception 77
Luck 123
No new levels, it seemed harder to level up now, but maybe that¡¯s because his level was beginning to outstrip that of the rest of area, with penalties for leveling. He wasn¡¯t sure. However, he had gotten a new title. Thrice Called Thrice Denied: Within three seconds, recover from three separate events that should have killed you. +5 to Constitution and Luck. +3% to Constitution and Luck. ??? . Both boosted good stats. Constitution kept him alive, and, as he¡¯d seen when he¡¯d become an Area Guardian, luck boosted the spawning of useful treasures in the surrounding area. Having a decent quantity of treasures in the surrounding area would be pivotal for growth of everyone nearby. In fact, if his luck was sufficiently disproportionate to the rank of an area, then it might provide high quantities of high quality treasures. Those could be crucial in developing himself, and everyone nearby. He just needed to find them first. The other notable thing were question marks at the end of the title. He didn¡¯t like the look of those, but there was little he could do about them¡ªand he certainly wasn¡¯t going to go shopping around for a way to remove something that gave him fixed and percentage bonuses to his stats, at least not until he was certain the hidden effects were harmful. Chris spent a few more moments catching his breath, then released the rope from the slimy clutches of his right arm¡ªhe couldn¡¯t be bothered to unwind the grapple from the tower vine, but it would drop right off when the plant finally disintegrated. He stood and slung his pack back over his shoulders and continued making his way down. This time he continued leisurely on down, taking the spiral of leaves rather than dropping vertically. He was far beyond the danger zone of tower vine disintegration, and he wasn¡¯t being chased by a gryphon either. If anything, it was nice to just wind down a little.
Chris¡¯ feet finally hit ground. The grapple and its rope lay in coils around the base of the vine¡ªit had fallen when Chris was halfway down. Chris picked it up. The rope along its length was very much frayed, and one of the iron prongs was bent and twisted from where it had impacted a stone upon landing. It was probably not all that useful anymore, but the thing had saved his life several times in his descent. He had an empty tower back in Kingscastle, the least he could do was frame the thing and place it on a wall somewhere. Smiling, he tossed it onto the top of his pack. The walk down had given him time to think about what came next. By the time he was at the bottom, he¡¯d reached his decision. He had wanted to set out immediately, but that was a fundamentally selfish decision. His quick rise in power had led to the area¡¯s rank increasing. That would put every human nearby at risk. It wasn¡¯t fair to ask everyone in Kingscastle and Hartshire to deal with strengthened adversaries while he was off adventuring and being the hero of lower ranked towns. His luck had hopefully increased the spawning of treasures beyond what was reasonable for an F-2 area, it would be better to at least stay to help fend off the F-2 Beast Horde that would hit Hartshire. In the interim he could hopefully stack treasures onto the other humans all around, get them up to an unreasonable level of strength and allow everyone else to strengthen themselves. There was another option: use all of the treasures to strengthen himself; however, he discarded it. At F-2, people would already be struggling, if he somehow brought himself up to F-3, the weakest of the humans would be unable to cope. Every death from that would be on his hands. Someone in the sway of mana, or with ice for blood, might be able to stomach it. Chris couldn¡¯t. He was okay with that. Ignoring cost for power was something Gregor would do, was something Gregor did. There was time afterward to go help other towns, but, right now, he had responsibilities. He began walking toward Kingscastle, but paused when he saw a familiar figure, decked out in¡­ spacious¡­ armor. Bruce. Chapter 63: Amir Bruce was staring at the Thaumic Gate, peering inside, moving around to look in the other direction¡ªdisappearing behind the watery image of the Thaumic Strata. He was on the other side, engrossed in some aspect of the strange realm when Chris came within easy talking range¡ªcloser than expected due to the background babble of noises coming from the portal. Chris was about to greet him, when a clod of dirt and grass sailed through the shimmering mirage. He ducked to the side, letting the dirt miss him. ¡°Careful!¡± Bruce¡¯s head poked from around the side of the Thaumic Gate. ¡°Oh, hi Chris, you¡¯re back, Sarah said¡ª¡± Bruce paused. ¡°What happened to your arm?¡± Chris waved with his one remaining hand. ¡°I punched a tree.¡± Bruce gaped for a moment, then walked forward, rummaging through a bag at his side. ¡°Doesn¡¯t that hurt?¡± He held out a potion. Chris waved the offered potion away, it was probably too weak and he could still feel the faint discombobulation of potion toxicity. ¡°Nah, all Slime. Only have nerves in the arm when I need them. I¡¯ll top up back in the settlement. Why are you here?¡± Bruce put his potion back. ¡°Well, everyone saw the massive plant, so we sort of assumed you were going full Jackass and the Beanstalk. What was that by the way? They told me to ask.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a tower vine, has a tower at the top of it where you can get Class Skills. It¡¯s useful once you reach Level 20.¡± ¡°Were there any giant waifus up there?¡± ¡°Why? Just why?¡± Not that he should have expected anything different, just straight to the waifus after the necessary social pleasantries. ¡°It¡¯s a beanstalk in a fantasy world, I would never forgive myself if there were giant waifus up there and I didn¡¯t ask.¡± ¡°Uh-huh.¡± Chris began walking back toward the gate of Kingscastle, Bruce quickly followed, jogging up next to him. ¡°So, why do you have a magic Stargate and¡ª oh god, what¡¯s that smell?¡± Bruce fell back, still following but keeping his distance. Chris paused, wondering what Bruce meant. Then he remembered about his run in with the cat. He coughed uncomfortably, suddenly made aware once again that he needed to get cleaned up¡ªthe urgency of the fight against Varok has previously scoured everything but survival from his mind. He met Bruce¡¯s eyes. ¡°Catgirls, man. Ten out of ten would not recommend.¡± Bruce¡¯s face fell and his steps slowed even more. Chris chuckled. ¡°So, what¡¯s with the Stargate?¡± Bruce asked. Stargate? What was that? Ah, Bruce was referring to the Thaumic Gate. Chris glanced back at the structure which seemed to emit sounds of constant birdsong and rushing water. At its base were small hair-like chasms of cracked earth filled with purple light. Chris stared at the purple fractures surrounding it, wondering if they had spread, then dismissed his concerns. ¡°That¡¯s a Thaumic Gate. It leads to a weird dimension that steals mana from you.¡± ¡°Cool.¡± ¡°So, what¡¯s going on in Hartshire?¡± Chris asked. ¡°It¡¯s crazy. Everyone leveled up insane amounts against the Beast Horde, we just finished dealing with it actually. I got to Level 16, but it was hard to get past there. There have got to be crazy penalties for fighting things weaker than you. Oh, and some people have gotten titles. I got three: Living Landslide, Meteoric, and Prime Animaphage.¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. ¡°Congrats. Is everyone retrieving the Beast Soul Gems before selling the corpses?¡± Chris wondered if he heard Bruce correctly on the last title, it sounded like he got one of the first in cohort skills. ¡°Yeah. It was tricky to begin with, since we didn¡¯t know where they were, but they seem to show up in one of several places¡ªonce you know where to find them, it¡¯s much quicker. Philip bought a Skill Vendor as well, couple of people got Treasure Sight.¡± ¡°Oh?¡± ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s this skill that lets you notice valuable things. I think more people started picking up the skill when they saw those who had it cutting off random claws and teeth from the Gnolls. Powerful materials, I think.¡± Chris nodded. ¡°Makes sense. What did you get?¡± ¡°Five skills: Sprint, Leap, Appetite, Density, and Bodily Refinement. I can run faster, jump farther, eat more, weigh more, and my body gets permanently stronger when I eat monster meat. I already got five strength, and dexterity.¡± Chris frowned, that last one sounded ridiculous, and ridiculously expensive. ¡°Why didn¡¯t I see that in the Skill Vendor?¡± ¡°I got it from the Prime Animaphage title.¡± ¡°How?¡± Bruce looked down at his feet. ¡°I tried swallowing a couple of the Soul Gems, like in some of those novels. Then I got a title and skill for it.¡± ¡°Aren¡¯t the Gems a little too big to swallow?¡± ¡°Yeah, but they can somehow be swallowed despite that.¡± Chris nodded, lost in thought. He wondered how many humans had found Beast Soul Gems by this point. Probably a lot¡ªgiven that every human settlement would have been subjected to a Beast Horde. However, Bruce was the Prime Animaphage; that meant he was the first one to do it. The fact that swallowing a Gem seemed physiologically impossible would ward off a lot of people, but it was still the eighth day in the tutorial. Someone would have done it, someone should have done it. ¡°Did you tell anyone about the title?¡± ¡°Not yet.¡± ¡°What does the text say?¡± ¡°The first in your cohort to successfully consume a Soul Gem. +10 Luck. Bodily Refinement Skill.¡± ¡°Did it hurt?¡± ¡°A little bit, like a stomach ache.¡± Chris frowned. What would happen if someone unsuccessfully consumed a Soul Gem? Somehow, he doubted it would just pass out the other side. And there was a luck boost associated with doing so. That seemed suspicious as well. ¡°Maybe you should hold off on telling people about the title from eating Gems, at least until we know it¡¯s safe.¡± Bruce hummed in agreement from behind him, but they were at the gates of Kingscastle now, so Chris neglected to continue the conversation. The gates swung open, revealing empty streets. Chris was surprised. He would have expected to see at least one of the new five humans between the walls and the roads, but there was no one. Oh well, it gave him some time to recover, at least. He encountered no one between the gates and the Slime Pitfall. He already knew that he could absorb mass from the Slimes inside, so he simply walked over, hooked the half-ruined grapple to the side and lowered himself in. The surface rippled below him, then held firm, as if he were lounging in thick custard. Cool, green jelly flowed around him, easing into the cracks in his armor and conforming to his arm. Chris closed his eyes and let himself relax. It felt like aloe vera on his skin, a soothing tingle that spread along and outward as his arm reformed in real time. He cracked his eyes open for a quick glance. Bone was restored first. Chris tested his skeletal hand. It was odd to see the fingers flex, only to be followed by the first cords of muscle moments later. Sinew wrapped around the reddish cords before being perforated by blood vessels, wrapped in a thin layer of fat, and sealed with skin. ¡°That¡¯s so cool, that was like something out of Terminator!¡± Chris blinked his eyes open, seeing Bruce leaning over with a delighted grin plastered across his cheeks. Chris closed his eyes again as more and more Slime flowed over him and he felt the dirt and grime that coated him drifting and lifting away. He let himself float there for a moment more, enjoying the impromptu Slime bath, then reached up for the rope and pulled himself back up. He gave his restored arm a flex, feeling thankful that it was always the right one that ended up getting blasted away. He wasn¡¯t happy losing an arm so often¡ªthis was the fourth time in eight days¡ªbut at least the arm was replaceable. He looked over at Bruce. ¡°I might soon be exploring the Slime forest with the people here. Do you want to join?¡± Bruce nodded and grinned. ¡°I wanted to test out my abilities properly.¡± ¡°You and me both.¡± Chris began checking houses, trying to find his missing citizens as the sky darkened. He reached the last house, hearing voices and laughter inside. There they were. He pushed open the door, seeing six people inside. Six¡ªfive familiar, one not. The man had a dark complexion, brown eyes, and a bright smile¡ªunlike the others, he was dressed in green, knobbly armor that looked like it had been stripped from a giant lizard. A gleaming scimitar hung at his side. As Chris entered, he stood and held out his hand. ¡°Hello, I¡¯m Amir.¡± Chapter 64: New Arrival Amir, like the rest, was from Earth¡ªwhere the apocalypse was well and truly underway. His situation seemed somewhat different, though. For one, he was from Egypt¡ªa far cry from the predominantly Western, Anglophone people Chris had encountered so far. Unlike the other five who¡¯d been teleported to Kingscastle, Amir had found a group of holdouts in the end of the world. A combination of luck and high-powered rifles had allowed them to score kills on several monsters, and even one or two lone invading Enlightened. Observation of those same Enlightened revealed the existence of Beast Soul Gems, and the group¡¯s chance inclusion of a Taoist had led to an early discovery of mana¡ªfirst thought of as ¡°qi¡±, then later as ¡°mana¡± when the group¡¯s first member reached Level 10. From there, Amir¡¯s group had snowballed, gathering survivors and ammunition in equal measure until they acquired the numbers and the courage to assault a small fortification of Enlightened with wood and green branches for bodies. Those Enlightened, which Amir referred to as ¡°Dryaas¡±, had enslaved a large group of humans. Amir and his group had gone in, guns blazing, Gems from defeated beasts warding off some of the damage they took. They had the numbers. Surprise was on their side. Until it wasn¡¯t. They¡¯d taken casualties, they¡¯d expected to. The Dryaas were strong, few as they were. Single shots to the head wouldn¡¯t down them; it required their skulls or chests to be pulverized into splinters and wood pulp in order to put the alien Enlightened to rest. That had been part of the plan. Then the Dryaas had called to Amir¡¯s group in Arabic¡ªAmir was Egyptian¡ªeven as they rushed to retaliate. They offered indenture for survival, even while dashing forward to engage, or shooting thorns from a distance. They hadn¡¯t been making slaves, Chris realized. They¡¯d been making Traitors. The Dryaas were few and human rifles had reduced them to alien wood chippings. The real casualties had come when the Traitors had attacked. Fortunately, most had been without the benefit of guns of their own¡ªbeing frowned on by the Dryaas, since powerful tools apparently limited one¡¯s ability to progress. The Traitors had reaped a red reparation against the race they had abandoned. Amir had reported insane feats of strength and power from them. However, they were still human for now, and a well-placed bullet or two was enough to bring them down. And that had been that. Amir¡¯s group had raided the newly vacant Dryaas fortification and found a cache of Skill Gems and Beast Soul Gems inside which the Dryaas had probably been using to empower their Traitor army¡ªAmir had gotten a Slash skill, the scimitar he wielded, and the [Language Comprehension] skill. That at least made up for the lack of Soul Gems from the Dryaas and bolstered the strength of Amir¡¯s depleted group. The retelling of the story at least brought up something of note to Chris. Enlightened didn¡¯t have Soul Gems. The Undead hadn¡¯t, and he¡¯d never detected any in dead humans. The demons didn¡¯t have them either, but he wasn¡¯t sure whether they counted. Amir¡¯s group had continued after that. The group grew again, first in wariness, then in numbers. They¡¯d progressed to taking down a small swarm of lizard creatures that spat jets of sand. Those monsters had yielded a handful of Soul Gem armors, one of which Amir now wore.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. And that was all the stories Amir had. He¡¯d drawn the short straw on a patrol and had been no more than a dozen steps out of sight of the rest of the group before he suddenly found himself in Kingscastle¡ªno longer in his old clothes and lacking the advantages of a loaded rifle, but still with his Soul Gems and skills at his disposal. Chris wasn¡¯t sure whether to trust Amir fully, but he hadn¡¯t told anything that was obviously a lie¡ªand the stuff about Traitors definitely fit with what he knew. He couldn¡¯t live in fear of betrayal, and so he didn¡¯t. He made his exit as the sky darkened, doing a double take when he saw shadows on the walls. When his thrumming heart slowed, he realized that the System-generated guards from the Defender¡¯s Barracks had finally spawned. It eased a knot of tension that he hadn¡¯t even known was there; with at least some assurance of his settlement¡¯s safety while he was away, he felt freer to roam farther. There was still stuff to do. He still had several thick slices of Xys just sitting in his storage area. The minor preservation effect of the building was keeping it fresh, but he was under no illusions that it would last forever. He offloaded a generous portion onto Bruce, then moved over to the Skill Vendor. Amir had clued him in to at least one useful skill: [Language Comprehension]. Likewise, the Carnivorous Pharmacopeia trait had given him a newfound respect for identification type skills like [Insightful Gaze]. He bought both the skills at rank F-1, for 4,000 System Coins each. It was a little bit of a hit on his finances, but he needed to know what he was seeing and understand what he was hearing¡ªparticularly if he was at risk of encountering new races in the future. With everything sorted, he returned to the keep. With his new abilities, he wanted to see what the golden leaf could do. He pushed open the door and paused as he saw what lay inside. His mattress had been eviscerated by a golden sapling growing from its center. The tree gave off a palpable aura, mist curling around its young leaves. Chris stared at it for a moment, then rushed over. His plans on moving the leaf somewhere else had all evaporated. He lifted the mattress and saw that the young tree¡¯s roots had already broken through stone and entrenched themselves deep into the earth. Tentatively he reached out and tried dissolving the tip of a leaf. Chris felt his Slime draining at a rapid pace, but he persisted. Finally, a small corner came free and dissolved within him. Carnivorous Pharmacopeia took effect, but the impression he got from it was hazy and indistinct¡ªeither because the amount of the plant absorbed was small, or because it was too strong for the trait to handle. He didn¡¯t obtain the name of the plant, but he did get the impression that it had thousands of potential uses. Only one was currently clear to him: a salve that would release healing mist, laced with a slow and subtle poison with addictive properties. The last part threw him for a loop, until he remembered that the tree had been steeped on Xys¡¯ venom for a long time before Chris arrived. It had been a miracle that the tree had even survived being used as a poison gas dispenser up until Xys had died. Still, even then, Chris had known the tree was special. While it was irksome to see it sprouting from his mattress like some Alien chest-burster, the tree¡¯s resiliency and ability to restored itself from a single blighted leaf spoke volumes of its potential. At the back of his mind, Chris wondered if it was his luck stat¡¯s probability of generating treasures nearby that had catalyzed its growth when left alone, but there were no answers to that to be had. However, the prospect did excite him and reinforce his resolve to explore the Slime forest in the morning. He had no idea what treasures awaited him, but given the alien abundance of the area, he was excited to find out. It would be a good reason to head an expedition with the six citizens of Kingscastle, and Bruce. He glanced back at the tree. The expedition would have to wait until morning. Despite the paucity of light inside, the golden tree was thriving¡ªbeing unable to photosynthesize hadn¡¯t yet impaired it in the slightest. He needed sleep. But first he needed a new mattress.