《Jurassic Bawk》 Chapter 1 In an enormous conference room, situated in a tiny plane of existence created expressly to house the meeting place of the gods, thousands of assorted deities had already taken their places and were waiting for the last stragglers. Grimfalk, one of the last gods to arrive, surveyed his neighbors with suspicion as he eased his enormous bulk into the phoenix-hide chair. He had been the last to arrive at the Gathering of Organic Deities, and more than a few rolled his eyes or whispered to their neighbors as he took his rightful place at the far end of the table. "Why was I not informed of the last-minute time change?" he bellowed at no one in particular. A loud gavel bang was the only answer to his demand. "Order! We will have order at the table," Formua Integralis, the deity of termites and ants, thought at the assembly. Instantly all other conversations ceased. Grimfalk, who struggled at times with basic telepathy, was jealous of how easily the insectoid deity could project her thoughts to others. "The 534,931st special conference of Earth''s GOD is now in session. All rise in honor of President Brett!" The rasping of chairs and the thud of feet, flippers, and other locomotive appendages hitting the floor would have deafened a mere mortal as the thousands of deities rose from their chairs, couches, tubs, and, in the case of the deity of Campylobacteria, a large agar plate. At the same instant, a hidden door on the far side of the room opened, revealing a rather unassuming deity dressed in a hoodie, sweatpants, and crocs. "Formua, tell them all to sit," Brett ordered as he stifled a yawn and lurched over towards the head of the table. "I''ve told you 349,392 times that I don''t like all these formalities. Can''t we just get on with it?" Formua''s response must have only been for Brett''s ears because he stopped just short of the head of the table, where a throne made of solid rainbows awaited his magnificent rump. "Fine, fine, if that''s what it takes to make you happy," Brett groused audibly before taking his duties seriously. Grimfalk''s eyes missed the femtosecond transition from Brett the ultimate couch potato to Brett the ultimate arbiter of divine jurisprudence. The President of Earth''s Gathering of Organic Deities was now seated properly upon the rainbow throne. He had donned black robes, which absorbed the blinding light emitted by the crown of the Pleiadesupon his brow. In his right hand, he held Excalibur, the sword of sapience, bipedalism, and opposable thumbs. His left hand gripped the Aegis, an embossed shield coated with penicillium notatum, the scourge of microorganisms everywhere. "My dear deities, you may be seated," the President Brett declared. Once the assemblage had retaken their seats, he continued. "Our first order of business is to deal with the minutes from our last special session. Our secretary, Louis, will read the minutes of our last session." Grimfalk groaned inwardly as Louis, the deity of lorises, slowly rose from his chair and reached for a hefty stack of paper to his right. "I motion that we forgo the reading of the minutes, on the grounds that every member of GOD has a photographic memory!" several voices cried out in unison. "Second!" came the roaring response from another dozen throats and other, more exotic body parts. "All in favor of accepting the minutes without reading them, as always?" asked Brett, doing his best but failing to pretend that the exact same motion hadn''t been passed over five hundred thousand times. "Aye!" voted GOD in unison, save one dissenter. "All opposed?" There was a long pause. "Nay!" Louis the loris finally got out, turning his head ponderously from side to side to glare at the assembled gods. "The ''ayes'' have it," Brett declared. "Secretary, please note that the minutes have been accepted by the council. We will now move on to our second and only other item of business for this special session: the implementation of ''The System'' on planet Earth. We will first hear a report from the System Awareness for Fairness in Exploitation subcommittee. Rogier, the chair recognizes you." Rogier, the god of European badgers, slicked back his hair as he made his way to a small podium to the right of the president''s throne. "My dear colleagues, the SAFE committee has performed a thorough analysis of the proposed laws governing the System and has come up with a number of recommendations aimed at improving fairness across the board. As we are all well aware, humans have been the dominant life form on Earth for only a short time. However, their current point total in the Great Game of Existence far exceeds any other grouping. Just the points from achievements alone are enough to put them into first place: first species to master the use of fire, first species to develop writing, first species to..." Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation. As Rogier droned on, Grimfalk''s neighbor leaned over and whispered, "I knew they should have picked Roger the American badger instead." "This is your only warning: any more disruptions will result in a demerit," Formua''s voice echoed sternly through Grimfalk''s head. It took everything he had in him not to jump over the table and try to maul the smug insect within an inch of her life, but Grimfalk managed to maintain his external composure. After all, Formua was ranked 47th among all deities, while Grimfalk was 9,366th. Grimfalk would be out cold before he even laid a claw on the insectoid goddess. If he was lucky, that is. Rogier finally completed his recitation of the list of humanity''s achievements and moved on to a more interesting topic. "Now, as you may recall, GOD commissioned an exhaustive study on the possible effects of the proposed System, with an eye toward proposals that would not only increase our collective power but also promote equal outcomes for equal effort among deities. Beyond the introduction of what is colloquially referred to as ¡®magic¡¯, which GOD has already debated exhaustively and is outside the scope of our report, the main concerns raised by the various subcommittees related to a possible ¡®snowball effect¡¯, where weaker groups were systematically destroyed by stronger ones. Thus, the SAFE committee has determined to make the following recommendations for GOD to consider. First, to create and implement a new set of system-related achievements capable of being earned by a member of any species to level the playing field once the System is rolled out. Second, to allow deities to empower a limited number of followers based on how much divinity they are willing to invest in uplifting them. Third, return a percentage of all divinity points earned across the board to the top performers of each subgroup on a regular basis, on top of the rewards that the System will provide. Each member of GOD was provided with a full report on the concerns that the SAFE committee investigated, supported by a rigorous analysis and our proposed solutions. Out of the proposed solutions, the three top-line suggestions already mentioned were also subjected to a full mathematical treatment, which can be found in appendix ''a'' of the report. Appendix ''b'' consists of various projections for 1, 10, and 100 years after System implementation under various starting conditions. As you may have already noted, the 100-year projection for immediate System integration incorporating our proposed changes is by far the best in terms of both overall increases in GOD''s power while reducing the standard deviation between members by a factor of three. This concludes the report from the SAFE committee." Rogier wiped the sweat off his brow as he took his seat. President Brett took a moment to nod appreciatively before addressing the assembly. "Thank you, Rogier. I must say that your report was incredibly thorough and riveting from start to finish. As previously scheduled, GOD will now vote on whether or not to incorporate the SAFE committee''s findings into the System integration plan. All in favor?" About sixty percent of the assembled deities, including Grimfalk, voiced their support. "All opposed?" Only about twenty percent of those present actively opposed the proposal. "The proposal has passed. Secretary, please note in the minutes that the SAFE committee''s proposal was approved by voice vote. And this thankfully concludes the 534,931st special conference of GOD. I''m out." "All rise in honor of President Brett!" Formua announced in the exact same tone she had used to herald his impending arrival. There was an almost identical rasp and thud as the assembly once again rose and stood at attention. The only difference was that Geoffrey, the deity of giraffes, overdid it this time and banged his head on the ceiling. Since President Brett had already disappeared by the time his hind claws made solid contact with the floor, Grimfalk felt no need to stick around and play nice with the others. He stomped off as quickly as his legs would carry him, taking care to avoid slapping any of his neighbors with his long, scaly tail. "See ya, short arms!" called Phasco, the deity of koalas. "Hey, why don¡¯t you go jump up your mother''s gonorrhea-ridden uterus!" Grimfalk retorted. "Oh wait, she doesn''t even have one! Why don¡¯t you work on evolving a placenta too while you¡¯re at it!" "Yeah, well at least I have subjects to rule! All yours are dead! That meteor was all like ¡®weeeeeeee splat¡¯ and then all your theropods died of cold or starvation!" Several deities around Phasco started laughing as the koala deity pretended to be crushed and fell to the ground. Grimfalk didn''t wait around to watch any more of the koala¡¯s antics. He put his head down and stamped off, too embarrassed to let the others see him cry. As soon as the theropod deity crossed the threshold of the dimensional wards that stabilized GOD headquarters within null space, he retreated to his own demi-plane. Once there, he rushed over to his private hunting reserve and took out his aggression on lifelike replicas of several prey animals and rivals that, like his own species, were long gone. Feeling somewhat better after feasting upon some rather delicious, simulated entrails, he used his divine powers to clean the sweat, blood, and gore from his body before making his way to his office. "Rough meeting, boss?" Longclaw the demideity asked without looking up from her computer as he entered. Longclaw had been Grimfalk''s secretary, work spouse, best friend, and only other surviving member of his species for eons. The relationship between the two had long settled into a comfortable familiarity that transcended friendship but was decidedly non-romantic. In short, Grimfalk viewed her as a little sister. "Nothing I couldn''t handle," Grimfalk boasted, ignoring the fact that she had likely watched his ignominious retreat via livestream. "Well, I''ve gone over the SAFE committee''s proposal as we discussed," Longclaw noted, trying and failing not to roll her eyes at Grimfalk''s needless bravado. "The changes GOD just passed offer more than just an opportunity to level the playing field. With a lot of planning and an absurd amount of luck, we could get off to an early lead over a lot of other gods." "Through achievements," Grimfalk''s reply held only the barest hint of a question as he made his way closer to Longclaw''s desk. "Right, through achievements, but also due to this ''atavism'' system that allows you to empower individual members of your species," Longclaw confirmed, her exceptionally long fake nails clacking away at the keyboard again. Grimfalk plopped down into a chair next to Longclaw and looked at what she had pulled up on the screen. It was a subsection of the SAFE committee''s proposal that would now be a part of the System integration. "See this part here," Longclaw said with determination. "This is how we revive our brothers and sisters." Grimfalk read for a moment before his eyes widened as he realized what Longclaw had discovered. He read the relevant passage out loud, mostly for his own benefit. "Any individual that evolved from a common ancestor of a deity''s portfolio is eligible to be claimed and empowered by that deity, so long as it is not claimed by another deity and the deity pays a sliding-scale conversion cost to designate that individual as his or her follower. This process shall be hereafter referred to as ''atavism''." "That''s right. There''s only one problem, however." Longclaw warned. "The cost rises exponentially the less genetically similar the individual is to your portfolio. With our current reserves of divine energy, we have enough to fully empower a single individual, and it has to be from a particular extant species." "Don''t tell me..." Grimfalk sighed. "That''s right," Longclaw confirmed with a nod. "You''re going to have to pin all our hopes and dreams on the success of a chicken." Chapter 2 Charlemagne was not a particularly notable rooster. For one thing, he was a type of chicken known as "poulet bicyclette", a West African breed known for its small size, tough meat, and ability to thrive with minimal care. Like most roosters of his generation, he spent his life scratching up food while dodging motorcycles, children, and the occasional stray dog. He fought when he had to, chased females when he could, and generally did rooster things. He had largely black feathers that, when he wasn¡¯t too dirty, were glossy and had a slight iridescent sheen. Small patches of white provided a bit of contrast and gave him a slightly speckled appearance. His orange eyes displayed neither raw cunning nor intelligence, but instead regarded anything that entered his 300-degree field of vision with trepidation. His comb was slightly tilted and closer to pink than a true red. All in all, he was an ordinary specimen on the outside. But there was one thing that the diminutive rooster could boast about: he had 0.00000001% more dinosaur DNA than any other bird in West Africa. Unfortunately, his unique genetic makeup did not make Charlemagne''s life any easier. Romuald, a scraggly dog that nominally belonged to one of the neighbors, had it out for the scrappy young chicken for some reason. Early one morning, after Charlemagne had ensured that the neighborhood was awake, he failed to notice the tan and brown mutt sneaking up on him before it was too late. The dog pounced on Charlemagne just as the chicken had managed to scratch up a half-kernel of dried corn, getting a mouthful of feathers but not drawing blood. Charlemagne flapped aggressively with his stubby wings, trying to loosen Romuald''s grip and get into position for a counterattack, but the dog gamely held firm and slowly worked the angle of his bite to get a better grip on the rooster''s slim body. Charlemagne desperately fought as he was flung high into the air, instinctively realizing that once Romauld got him off the ground, he would be shaken to death. To the rooster''s immense surprise, however, it was no longer the mutt that had a grip on him. It was his owner, a day laborer and small-scale farmer who lived just outside the city of Cotonou. Instead of putting the still struggling chicken down the man carried Charlemagne over to his battered Sanya motorcycle, where a surprising number of other chickens were tied to the handlebars. The young rooster swiftly joined them. Charlemagne soon found himself outside a Vodun temple, blissfully unaware that he was to be sacrificed to increase the chances of a local politician winning an upcoming election. He hung from his owner''s motorcycle for some time, not really comprehending what was going on but knowing that something different was happening...and different was bad. Ordinarily, the chicken would have responded to unfamiliar stimuli through a familiar mechanism: running away. But Charlemagne had no way of getting free of his bonds. Even if he was not in a state of tonic immobility due to being hung upside down, there was the small issue of his feet being firmly affixed to the motorcycle. He had long ago pooped on himself, so the young rooster had nothing to do but hang around and wait for his owner''s return. The sun grew hot in the sky as the ritual continued. Charlemagne began to feel the initial stages of heat distress, panting as his body sought to expel excess heat through the air in his lungs. His little rooster mind wandered as the temperature continued to climb, seeking an escape from bondage in the burning sun. It might have been the heat, the exhaust fumes, or being hung upside down, but Charlemagne daydreamed for the first time in his short life. In his vision, the little rooster was gigantic, scattering vehicles and people as he went about his daily life. Without a care in the world, the now enormous Charlemagne ate juicy bugs, ripe corn, and the finest strawberries from Burkina Faso. He slaked his thirst with clean rainwater. He mated with all the hens, not just the slow ones, but also the strong and fast ones. And that was pretty much it. Charlemagne was a chicken...eating, drinking, and mating were basically all he dreamed of doing in life. Charlemagne had just finished a nice meal and was moving on to satisfy another urge when something very rudely interrupted his dream. The ground shook and the skies turned blood red. A feeling of dread gripped the young rooster as a magnificent creature stomped over the horizon. The blood of a thousand prey-beasts dripped from its powerful jaws. Its whip-like tail swished back and forth, knocking down a few of the tallest trees that happened to be in the way. Scales as hard and as lustrous as black diamonds covered much of its body. Charlemagne was not a very good judge of arms, seeing as he had wings, but the arms were...well they were present and accounted for. An aura of deadly majesty blasted out from the glorious hunter as it reared its head back and roared. Then it looked directly at Charlemagne and made a series of less intimidating but still fearsome grunts and roars. The rooster had no idea what was going on. All he knew was that the other creature was much larger than he was and much more powerful. Therefore, he should be subservient. The proper chicken thing to do was to run away. But his feet refused to move. He could only stare, transfixed by a wonderful feeling spreading throughout his body. Although his limited chicken intellect could not classify his emotions, Charlemagne was experiencing both a sense of belonging and longing. He now belonged to this godly being''s flock and wanted to be just like his new alpha rooster. The trance was broken up as numerous dark squiggles appeared in the air. The confused rooster blinked, but the squiggles merely remained where they were, although their color shifted from dark to light when he shut his eyes. Moving his head didn''t help, the squiggles followed along. He tried to peck at one of them, thinking maybe they were food or food-adjacent, but they retreated as fast as his beak could move. While he was still puzzling over the sudden appearance of the squiggles, Charlemagne''s body surged with energy and strength. His bones momentarily ached as new calcium deposits formed and growth plates activated, making his skeleton denser and longer. The compact and stringy muscles that powered his movements grew new layers before somehow compacting themselves to their original size. His heart beat stronger, his blood ran cleaner, and his organs became more efficient. Most importantly, however, the squiggles suddenly made sense as Charlemagne''s mind expanded. Although his avian mind was not yet capable of comprehending the meaning of each word, he could understand that the squiggles were a blessing from the wonderful creature in his vision.
System Activated Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Atavism Detected... Early System Integration Approved: All Costs Chargeable to Patron (Grimfalk) Pre-Payment Received Congratulations, you are now a Champion (Theropod) Applying Template: Theropod Error: Genetic Compatibility Too Low Scanning Partial Template Application Possible Cost Reduction Applied Partial Refund Complete Applying Template: Theropod (partial) Success Species Designation (Gallus Domesticus) Removed Species Set to (Gallus Domesticus Baronia) Attributes Updated Strength: (4->24) Dexterity: (5->20) Durability: (4->19) Special: (9->34) Species Skills Added Peck: 1 Claw: 1
A sudden burst of movement pulled Charlemagne''s attention away from the sacred squiggles. While he had been unconscious, his turn to be sacrificed had arrived. One strong hand pressed his body down against a gnarled tree stump, while another held a blood-crusted machete that was descending straight for his neck. While an ordinary chicken would have been cleanly beheaded, Charlemagne was now no ordinary chicken. Ancient instincts embedded deep in his brainstem asserted control, relaxing his neck muscles while contracting the ones in his wings. Charlemagne rocketed out of the way just in time to avoid decapitation. Before the rooster could get his bearings, three men rushed at him. While ten minutes ago, Charlemagne would have retreated from almost anything larger than he was, the magical changes wrought within him had increased not only his ability but also his willingness to fight. He surged forward, letting two of the three men overshoot him, before leaping high into the air to confront his former owner. Charlemagne''s wings beat the air as he rose higher than he''d ever done before, high enough to deliver a vicious claw right across the man''s face. Blood spurted as his razor-sharp spur cut deep. The enraged rooster beat his wings again, pushing himself forward and using the momentum to deliver a peck straight into his opponent''s jugular vein. More blood flew across the hut as the man went down, clutching at his savaged throat in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding. Charlemagne landed on his feet and crowed in victory as a loud chime rang in the rooster''s ears. More squiggles appeared.
First combat detected: Mid-combat gains enabled as one-time bonus due to Champion status Congratulations, you have earned the achievement (First Blood!). You are one of the first 100 system users to kill a being of the same Kingdom (Animalia). Attributes are ten percent more effective. Congratulations, you have earned the achievement (Underdog). You are the first system user to kill a member of the top-ranked species (Human) while being weaker than the average adult member. Attributes are fifteen percent more effective. Congratulations, you have earned the achievement (Giant Slayer II). You have slain an opponent more than twenty-five times your weight with only natural weapons. Attributes are ten percent more effective. Skills Increased Claw: 1->2 Peck: 1->2 Congratulations, you are now level 2. Attributes Updated Strength: (24->26) Dexterity: (20->22) Durability: (19->21) Special: (34->36) Special Ability Choice Available
The effects of the achievements and level up were instantaneous, making Charlemagne 35 percent stronger, faster, and more durable. He puffed himself up as new power flowed through him, flapping his wings in defiance of the remaining two men, daring them to attack. The one with the machete obliged, teaching the young rooster an important lesson: don''t gloat in the middle of combat. The dull machete blade smashed downward with a force that came not only from powerful muscles but also from the sheer mass of his opponent. Charlemagne attempted to dodge, but because he was off balance from his posturing, his dodge was slow. The machete smashed into his left wing with a sharp crack. Despite the white-hot pain that ran through his wing, Charlemagne counterattacked while the man was off-balance, stomping forward and pecking deep into the attacker''s calf muscle. The man jumped back and shouted, but the other opponent used the opportunity to jump in with a stick of firewood he had grabbed from the floor. The makeshift weapon caught the rooster full in the face, sending him careening into the hut''s wall. The rooster bounced off, slightly stunned, but somehow regained his footing and kept moving. Charlemagne''s legs carried him instinctively toward freedom, but his newfound thirst for dominance forced his body to halt its cowardly retreat and flung him back into the thick of battle. The outnumbered and undersized chicken weaved back and forth, dodging most of the swipes from the machete and stick but taking a few glancing blows before he found an opening to counterattack. His beak flashed out three times in quick succession, ravaging the machete holder''s Achilles tendon. The other man, seeing his comrade fall, dropped his stick and made a break for the door. He made it outside and began to pick up speed despite the uneven ground. Charlemagne gave chase. An ordinary, pre-system, chicken could reach speeds up to 9 miles (15 kilometers) per hour. On the human side, Olympic sprinters could reach speeds around 27 miles (43 kilometers) per hour for a moment. With his strength 8 times higher than before the advent of the system, Charlemagne was already a good deal faster than the fastest ordinary human. The man running barefoot across rugged terrain didn''t have a chance. With a leap aided by his one good wing, the battered fowl aimed for his foe''s neck and activated the Peck skill. The System-enhanced attack burst through the hard muscle and sinew that the man had cultivated through a lifetime of manual labor and shredded his windpipe from behind. He fell with a wet gurgle and didn''t get back up. With the runner taken care of, Charlemagne turned back to see the man with the machete pulling himself up onto the old Sanya motorcycle that his owner had used to bring him there. Two chickens, both females, still hung from the handlebars. The moto''s two-stroke engine putt-putted to life as the rooster raced back to stop the man''s escape. Spotting the enraged chicken, the man on the motorcycle shifted his machete back into his right hand and gunned the engine, aiming to catch Charlemagne with the blade as they passed each other. Neither the chicken nor the man could appreciate that a deadly game of chicken was being played between a man and an actual chicken. This was mostly because neither party understood English, an essential prerequisite for getting the joke. Charlemagne, being faster and more agile, could easily have swerved and approached the motorcycle from his left side, saving himself the trouble of taking the machete head-on. But the rooster''s newly awakened instincts did not account for the existence of weapons, granting the man the upper hand in their exchange. Or it would have, if the motorcycle''s front tire hadn''t hit a rock, causing the rider to fly off head over heels directly into his opponent''s path. The man slammed straight into Charlemagne. The rooster struggled for a moment upon impact with the much more massive man, which knocked the wind out of him and reversed his momentum. Heedless of the pain in his left side, he flapped his powerful wings, managing to disentangle himself just before the man crashed face-first into the ground. Charlemagne landed with a bounce and leaped upon his stunned opponent before he could recover. His claws rent clothing and flesh as easily as they had previously moved soft soil, while his beak made short work of the man''s vulnerable neck. Another chime rang out, announcing the death of his final foe. Then more squiggles appeared...lots of squiggles. Charlemagne threw his beak back and crowed once again in triumph. The squiggles were good. The squiggles were power. Chapter 3
Skills Increased Claw: 2->5 Peck: 2->4 Congratulations, you are now level 3. Attributes Updated Strength: (26->28) Dexterity: (22->24) Durability: (21->23) Special: (36->38) Species Skill Added Hover: 1 Special Ability Choice Available Congratulations, you have earned the achievement (Not Outgunned). You have defeated three or more opponents with similar or higher attributes. Attributes are ten percent more effective. Congratulations, you have earned the achievement (Early Bloomer). You have gained multiple levels within a short window of system activation. Attributes are five percent more effective. Special Ability Choice no longer deferrable, please select one ability from the following: Iron Feathers: Your feathers protect you from minor injury while retaining all other features. Requires an iron-rich diet to maintain and replace plumage. Enhanced Metabolism: Spoiled food you eat is less likely to cause ill effects, while nutritious food provides a small boost to health and stamina recovery. Your body requires twenty-five percent more calories to maintain your new metabolic rate. Sharp spurs: Your spurs are but the vestiges of the battle-ready claws of your ancestors. Unlock more of their potential. ***NOTICE*** Atavism detected: Patron Grimfalk Notified Patron Grimfalk has designated you as his Champion. Attributes are twenty-five percent more effective. Patron Grimfalk Has Elected to Upgrade Your Special Ability Choices Patron Grimfalk Has Chosen a Special Ability. Special Ability Gained: Power of Progeny. Growing your brood now means growing your personal power. You gain a small amount of power every time you successfully procreate. This Special Ability may be upgraded. Power is only gained for direct offspring with approximately half of your DNA. Offspring does not include plants. Multicellular entities only.
Charlemagne felt rather than read the message of the mighty squiggles. He had no idea his achievements were providing a much larger boost to his attributes than the two flat points he was getting per level, but he could feel the ways that his body had grown stronger, faster, and more durable. He could sense that his pecks would penetrate deeper and that his claws would slice more easily, while his wings would better support his weight for a brief time in the air. Finally, he understood that the godly being he had seen in his dream had given him a mission to fill the Earth and subdue it: he and his children and his children''s children. To help him achieve that goal, his benefactor would empower him the more chicks he made. But for Charlemagne to obey he needed mates, lots of mates. His dull chicken mind cast around with his sharp chicken eyes, searching for hens. He was certain that he had recently seen a couple of them around. It took longer than it should have for him to spot them. They were still attached to the motorcycle''s handlebars, alive but rather disoriented from their harrowing experience. Ever the gentleman, Charlemagne pecked away their bonds before mating with both. Satisfied with his work, the young rooster wandered off, looking for something else to eat, fight, or mate with. In Grimfalk''s demi-plane, two theropods were watching the chicken''s exploits on an enormous screen, bickering with all the complacency of an old married couple. Grimfalk had his hind legs propped up and was popping candied squirrels with gusto, while Longclaw tapped away on what was essentially a magical smartphone whenever there was a lull in the action. "I don''t like this part," she complained. "I wish you''d let me censor the mating at least." Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Grimfalk popped another snack in his mouth and gulped. "There''s nothing wrong about it. It''s natural. Besides, this is how our kind will be revived right here!" "By making more chickens? I fail to see how that will help get you more followers. You already had to pay Flockheart for snagging Charlemagne. It wasn''t cheap." "Ah, but that''s the beauty of genetics," Grimfalk rebutted. "As my Champion grows in power, I''ll be able to give him even more of our DNA. Then he can breed with successive generations of his own offspring, rapidly increasing their percentage of therapod DNA. I''ll get so many new followers this way!" Longclaw looked up from her phone to see if the mating was over before averting her eyes again, choosing instead to glare at Grimfalk. "All right that makes sense but explain to me why you gave him that silly power. There are other abilities that would have helped your rooster out a lot more, why didn''t you give him one of those?" "Yes, I could have afforded him a power that would have given him a bigger short-term boost. But my plan is much more sophisticated than just getting my Champion as strong as I can as fast as I can," Grimfalk gloated. "I did it because I am more interested in his long-term growth. Do you know how many potential mates he has? Once his offspring start to hatch, he¡¯ll be getting consistent power boosts. I also wanted to encourage the rooster to produce more offspring in general, since it will benefit me, too." Longclaw snorted. "That''s why? You do realize he''s a rooster, right? A male animal? He''ll mate with anything that has a cloaca and moves. And sometimes not even those are necessary." "Well, I did do it for a few other reasons too," the dinosaur deity admitted. "It''s highly unlikely that Charlemagne will make allies anytime soon since it will take some time before his mental development picks up. So I figured I¡¯d give him something easy that gave him a passive boost for something he was already interested in doing. Plus, since he¡¯s already my Champion, I can choose the best of his children to make Champions out of at a reduced cost. Like I said, I¡¯m thinking of the future here." "Well that was nice of you to pick him a nice passive boost that will get stronger with time," Longclaw said, noting with relief that the mating was over and the rooster had found something to eat. "So what level do you think he''ll make it to before the worldwide System rollout? He''s already level three and it''s been all of fifteen minutes. You think he''ll make it to class selection?" Grimfalk put his feet down and raised a claw to his chin. "If he survives the next two days, I think he might," he said after a moment''s thought. "I''ve talked to a lot of other deities, and many believe that there will be three time periods where a weak creature with early access to the System will struggle. The obvious one is of course when integration happens, and strong individuals gain levels rapidly. The second one is when they run across another Champion that has the means to directly oppose them, whether it¡¯s on the physical or metaphysical level. The final one, though, that one might just be the worst. And Charlemagne is about to enter it." Longclaw sighed. "Don''t be so dramatic...just tell me already!" "All right, all right!" Grimfalk relented. "This particular dangerous phase is when the creature attracts the attention of humans with weapons. The three that Charlemagne fought were armed only with simple tools, but the humans have access to far greater power than I ever dreamed. The most common one is referred to as a ''gun'' and can kill even large animals at a very long distance." "Yes, I''m well aware of the existence of firearms," Longclaw said with a hint of exasperation. "I thought that''s one of the reasons you decided against sponsoring that Ayam Cemani in Texas. So what''s your plan here?" Grimfalk put his feet back up and tossed another squirrel into his mouth. "Plan? Well, I guess we''ll have to wait until Charlemagne either levels up enough to be resistant to bullets, levels up a stealth skill to the point it¡¯s useful, or gets a strong regeneration ability. I''m pretty sure one of those three things will happen." "Well, one of those things better happen quickly," Longclaw warned. "Relax, he''s fine," the dinosaur deity rebutted. "Look, he''s all done with his mating and eating. He''s probably ready to fight again." "I''m sure he is, but there''s a pair of police officers arriving to investigate." "So?" "Well, the police in Benin carry guns." Charlemagne was feeling good. The attributes bonuses from the System allowed him to recover from minor injuries quickly so long as he had access to sufficient food. His injured wing no longer hurt unless he flapped it, which wasn''t a big deal. Even better, eating from the body of his last opponent had caused the squiggles to re-appear. Congratulations, you have earned the achievement (To Serve Man). You have gained a significant amount of nourishment by helping yourself to Earth''s dominant species. Attributes are ten percent more effective. Warning: Consumption of sapient beings significantly below your level will result in a penalty to experience point gains. Current penalty: 0%. Charlemagne still didn''t know exactly what the squiggles meant, just that eating a human had made him stronger. And there were almost always a lot of humans around. He just needed to find another small group of them and fight them so that the wonderful squiggles would come back. He heard the rumble of an approaching pair of motorcycles and decided to try something new. Humans never were able to smell him, and their hearing was not nearly as good as that of other animals, so maybe he could hide out of sight and rush them when they weren''t paying attention. Charlemagne ducked behind a small bolder and froze, trusting in his small stature to keep him from being noticed. It wasn''t really that great of a hiding spot, but the young rooster was not accustomed to sticking around dangerous situations. Despite this, the two police officers never thought to look his way as they arrived. They rode up and dismounted right next to the corpse of one of the men who had been killed outside: a corpse that was missing quite a bit of flesh. One of the men had pulled out a small black box and was yelling at it, while the other had a weapon in his hands, pointing it at the hut. Neither of the two men was looking in Charlemagne''s direction, which meant that he was free to attack them from behind. Charlemagne was not an ambush predator by nature, so he did not bother with any sort of fancy stalking behavior. Instead, the intrepid young rooster dashed in, aiming for the shouting man first. His beak flashed out, disabling one of the police officer¡¯s legs and interrupting his frenzied shouting into the black box. The man screamed as he fell to the dirt, granting Charlemagne access to his vulnerable neck and face. He moved to quickly finish off the downed man, but the second police officer had not been idle as his comrade fell. With blazing speed hardly befitting a man who has never fired a weapon due to budget constraints, the officer had pulled back to a more optimal firing position and brought his dilapidated AK-47 to bear on his attacker. A deafening crack stopped Charlemagne short. As a prey animal, the rooster¡¯s original instincts were telling him to run away from the noise. They warred against his thirst for combat before losing out to the call of battle. The internal struggle lasted for a fraction of a second, but in a gunfight, a fraction of a second can be the difference between life and death. While Charlemagne hesitated, three more shots rang out. Chapter 4 A trio of sharp cracks echoed through the dusty streets, drowning out the distant sound of motorcycles from the main road. Three bullets flashed out, quicker than the eye could track. And two of those three bullets found their mark, slamming into Charlemagne as he recovered from his initial shock and rushed his gun-wielding opponent. Pain blossomed in his side and in his recently healed wing as he continued his mad dash towards his foe, who managed to snap off one more volley of shots while retreating. The AK-47 went flying as the second police officer went down, his groin shredded to bits by angry chicken talons. The now irate rooster ignored the burning pain in his abdomen as he vented his fury on the downed man. In his anger, he forgot one key detail. He had left one of his opponents alive. A battle cry from behind him notified Charlemagne of the serious tactical error that he had made. Leaving behind his latest victim, he whirled around just in time to see the second police officer pulling the trigger on his weapon. A gentle ¡°click¡± was all that came out. Both Charlemagne and his opponent froze for a moment, neither knowing how to react to the gun not going off. The tiny-brained chicken moved first, his bloody claws tearing up furrows in the ground as he sprinted with all his might toward the police officer and slammed into the man¡¯s uninjured leg. The officer went down again, but unlike the previous time, he wasn¡¯t given the opportunity to get back up. Charlemagne stretched out his beak and took a bite from the downed man, but before he could even swallow, a bevy of loud angry sounds erupted from up the street. The rooster looked up and saw a truck barreling toward him, carrying a patrol of six armed officers in its bed. Quickly realizing that he was finally outmatched, Charlemagne darted away from the carnage, leaving a trail of blood with each step. The pain in his side grew worse as he ran, causing him to nearly stumble a few times in his mad dash to safety, reaching a crescendo as he was forced to use his broken wing to help him clear a concrete wall that enclosed one side of a small field that bordered a large swath of forest. Safely out of sight for the moment, Charlemagne tried to turn his attention to his gains from the recent combat, bringing to bear his still-stunted intellect on the latest set of squiggles. It was almost impossible for him to focus through the haze of pain, but the rooster had an unshakable faith in the power of the squiggles. Whatever was happening to him, the mysterious symbols could fix it.
Skills Increased Claw: 5->7 Peck: 4->6 Congratulations, you are now level 4. Attributes Updated Strength: (28->30) Dexterity: (24->26) Durability: (23->25) Special: (38->40) Congratulations, you are now level 5. Attributes Updated Strength: (30->32) Dexterity: (26->28) Durability: (23->25) Special: (40->42) Free points: 5 Skills Added Dash: 1 Sneak: 1 Congratulations, you have earned the achievement (Tonga!). Although your species is not known for stealth, you successfully executed a sneak attack on your first try. The Sneak skill (and its advanced forms) will be easier to level and slightly more effective. Congratulations, you have reached a new milestone. For reaching level 5, you receive 5 free attribute points. You will also receive a new Special Ability tailored to suit your needs. Note: as you are currently dying from blood loss, your ability choices will be healing focused. Please also note that this choice cannot be easily undone. Choose wisely from the following list: Special Ability: Food for the Stomach, and the Stomach for Food. You have probably already figured out that a good meal helps with minor injuries, but this ability goes far beyond that. Calorie-dense food will drastically accelerate your natural healing and can even regrow bones, organs, and flesh with a sufficient supply of calories. You will also be able to sense the direction of highly nutritious consumables. Finally, you can derive benefits if the food you consume is of sufficient quality and quantity. Special Ability: Go With the Flow. Being at least partially submerged causes the water to accept you as its own, giving you some of the benefits your cousins the Crocodylia enjoy as well as several other abilities. You will be an expert swimmer, and your lung capacity will triple. Soaking wounds in water will greatly increase your natural healing rate and delay death due to blood loss. Finally, you will gain a bonus to your physical attributes and certain skills while submerged. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Special Ability: Let¡¯s Photosynthesize, Guys! Solar power is not something that West Africa lacks, and you could benefit from it, too. You can absorb solar radiation as well as some forms of thermal radiation) in order to accelerate healing, temporarily boost attributes, or power attacks. A small amount of energy can be stored for a rainy day. Moving during the energy collection process greatly decreases the potency of this ability.
Even though he did not understand what exactly the squiggles were telling him, Charlemagne knew that he was being offered a choice. He would get more power from eating, from swimming, or from standing in the sun. For the young rooster, the choice was a no-brainer. As a chicken, he eschewed anything larger than a puddle, and he didn¡¯t enjoy standing around. He did, however, love to eat. The squiggles must have understood his choice because they briefly reappeared a moment later. Congratulations, you have acquired the following Special Ability: Food for the Stomach, and the Stomach for Food. Eat responsibly! As the symbols faded, Charlemagne was assailed by ravenous hunger that belied the enormous meal he had just consumed. The squiggles had brought him new power, but for some reason, he felt weak and wobbly. He had absolute faith that if he could just get his beak around enough food, everything would be all right. But he didn¡¯t see anything edible in the field, and his strength was ebbing by the moment. He willed himself to hang on until he found some food.
Durability: (25->30)
The system, having been designed to work with any species, no matter how stupid, rightfully interpreted the young rooster¡¯s wish to toughen up. The extra seven points in durability would not stop him from bleeding out, but they did give him a few minutes more than he would have had otherwise. Charlemagne was still going to die if he did not find food. Fortunately, he had a plan for that. He was going to do nothing and trust the squiggles yet again. A moment later he sprinted off, heading straight for the forest. After a few seconds, the sprint turned into a jog, and then the jog turned into a brisk walk, but Charlemagne kept at it.
Skill Increased Dash 1-> 3
He had almost reached the forest when he heard a yell directly behind him, followed by the loud cracking sound that had hurt him previously. Something slammed into the ground right next to him, kicking up a spray of dirt. Putting on a desperate burst of speed, the rooster stumbled past the tree line and into the underbrush. He was close: both close to death and close to finding the one thing that could save him. Charlemagne made a beeline for a spot where the ground had recently been disturbed and dug desperately. With his enhanced attributes, he soon reached the treasure that he sought. Cracking right through the heavy plastic container with a powerful peck, he shoved his entire head through the opening he had made and took an enormous bite (for a rooster at least) of the nutritious substance within. Spurred on by both his new predator instincts and his Special Ability, Charlemagne didn¡¯t stop to take a breath until he had made his way through a fourth of the box¡¯s contents. Once he had finished devouring the rest, the rooster hunkered down to rest and digest. After a few minutes, the squiggles returned, letting him know he had once again done a good job.
Congratulations, you have earned the achievement (Back from the Brink). You have healed a mortal wound by eating a¡­this can¡¯t be right¡­human placenta? You know, what, it¡­it¡¯s fine. You earned the achievement, so here¡¯s your reward. Attributes are five percent more effective. All forms of healing are ten percent more effective.
Charlemagne had no idea just how lucky he was to have found a human placenta buried in the forest. Most species of mammals will simply eat their placenta due to its nutritional value. Humans, some aquatic mammals, and camelids are notable exceptions to this common mammalian practice. Humans who have hospital births often leave their placenta with the hospital to be disposed of as medical waste, but this is not commonly done in Benin due to the fear that the tissue could be used to cast a spell on the mother and/or child. In any event, the rooster desperately needed to replenish his stores of protein, amino acids, and minerals such as iron due to his wounds and blood loss. A human placenta has all three of these essential ingredients, as attested by what happened next.
Congratulations, you have consumed a sufficient amount of high-quality human tissue. Your class choices have been upgraded. Congratulations, additional template compatibility unlocked for Theropod (partial). Current progress to next level is 21 percent.
After receiving enough vitality from his grisly meal for his body to begin the recovery process as well as a message from the squiggles that held a strange but powerful promise, Charlemagne was feeling ready for anything. A crow of victory swelled within Charlemagne''s breast, but the pain that accompanied his inhalation reminded him that he still needed to lie low until he was healed up. A few moments later, he heard shouting and the pounding of heavy boots against the bare earth, letting him know that it was time to go. Rising to his feet, he made his way deeper into the forest, unconsciously relying on his new Sneak skill to aid his escape.
Skill Increased Sneak 1-> 2
As his steps grew stronger and steadier with each passing moment, a new form of intelligence began to slowly bud inside the rooster¡¯s tiny brain. It was easy to miss amidst the wash of deeply ingrained animal instincts, but it was undeniably there. A part of this new intellect was manifested in the ability to feel pride at his recent growth. And so, as Charlemagne followed the new food sense granted by his Special Ability, a part of him wanted the squiggles to show him how powerful he was. And the squiggles obliged.
Name: Charlemagne Species: Gallus Domesticus Baronia) ¨C 21% Class: Level 5 Attributes Strength: (30) Dexterity: (28) Durability: (30) Special: (40) Species Skills Peck: 6 Claw: 7 Hover: 1 General Skills Dash: 3 Sneak: 2
Chapter 5 Grimfalk attempted but failed to wipe the sweat from his face as he watched his Champion narrowly escape the patrol of armed police officers. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me that guns were so powerful,¡± he moaned to Longclaw before throwing a bucket of honey-roasted armadillos down his massive gullet. ¡°Do you see how I¡¯m stress eating over here?¡± Longclaw let out a sigh and swiped the bucket from Grimfalk using a hot pink grabber tool she often used for extra reach. Upon seeing it was empty, she snorted and tossed it back at his head. ¡°You better save some of those for me! Don¡¯t make me start hiding the good snacks from you again.¡± ¡°You wouldn¡¯t¡­my Champion almost died you know,¡± Grimfalk whined. ¡°I can and I will. Listen, go get me another ¡®Dillo Bucket and grab yourself a case of those Rat Balls. I bought them for you to gorge yourself on,¡± Longclaw answered, dropping her grabber tool and picking her phone back up. ¡°Ok, but you better call me if anything interesting comes on! I want to see what¡¯s going on with some of the other local Champions!¡± Grimfalk stalked out to the larder that Longclaw kept well-stocked for these types of occasions and got the requested items. He added a couple of Stoat Waters for when they got thirsty and made his way back to the screen. ¡°Did I miss anything good?¡± he asked as he settled back into his seat. Longclaw shook her head as she sampled one of the honey-roasted treats. ¡°Oh man, these are good. No, you didn¡¯t miss anything local¡­there¡¯s hardly any coverage of our region. I think the only Champions in the area are the mosquito and the pangolin, right? ¡°Yeah, but I heard rumors that a few other deities were thinking of setting up shop. Plus, you know that after the integration almost anything can happen¡­it¡¯s worth keeping an eye out for potential dangers.¡± ¡°You mean like police with guns, or something else?¡± Longclaw asked as she reached for another tasty treat from the ¡®Dillo Bucket. Grimfalk wisely did not take the bait. Instead, he changed the subject. ¡°Brett¡¯s gotta have a plan for the humans. I wonder how many Champions he is going to raise up and where he¡¯ll put them. Given how strong our dear President is, I can¡¯t imagine Charlemagne surviving an encounter with a human Champion until has unlocked a whole lot more of his Theropod heritage.¡± ¡°How many Champions has Brett already empowered?¡± Longclaw asked. ¡°That¡¯s the thing,¡± Grimfalk answered as he popped the top from his Stoat Water and took a swig. ¡°He hasn¡¯t fielded any Champions yet as far as I can tell. It¡¯s almost as if he¡¯s waiting for something¡­¡± ¡°Never mind that! What¡¯s going on with your rooster?¡± Longclaw shouted as she pointed to the screen in horror. Charlemagne had just caught and consumed a small lizard, as was befitting a predator of his stature. But while he was still eating, the young rooster had collapsed beak first into his meal. Charlemagne suddenly found himself in a vast emptiness filled with soft white light. This confused him, as there was no longer any yummy lizard flesh in his beak. There was a funny feeling in his stomach, not from eating the lizard, but some other strange sensation, almost he had jumped too high in the air and was now about to land. Looking down, he noticed that he was standing on nothing as well. This further confused him. Realizing that something or someone must have done this to him, he determined that he should be angry at the thing or being who had brought him there. That was a big mental leap for a bird of Charlemagne¡¯s intellect. This epiphany may have led to further mental developments, were it not for what happened next. An enormous blob of blue with a purple center appeared directly in front of Charlemagne. It addressed him directly, and for the first time ever, the rooster was able to understand a being not from his own species. ¡°I Plasmodium. I bring. You food,¡± the blob stated. ¡°Die.¡± A long moment passed between the two opponents before Charlemagne was able to formulate a response. ¡°N¡­No.¡± ¡°I see. Fight now,¡± the blob said as its nucleus began glowing with a purple light that slowly grew redder as it brightened. A blinding beam of energy shot out of the blob and slammed into Charlemagne. The young chicken squawked in agony as the light singed his feathers and began to slowly char his flesh. The attack seemed to go on forever, but there was nothing that the rooster could do except to take it head-on. The searing pain spread from affecting just the surface of his body all the way to his innermost organs and tissues. Charlemagne was roasting from the inside out and the outside in. Still, he hung on until the fiery assault finally abated. ¡°You strong. Good food,¡± the blob voiced his approval. ¡°Food,¡± Charlemagne croaked in defiance, ¡°you.¡± Not knowing what else to do, the rooster thought back to the majestic vision of the creature that had given him a second chance at life. Surely, he would not have allowed himself to be injured in such a way. There must be some sort of lesson that he could learn from the enormous jaws and strong legs that his patron possessed. The powerful hunter needed neither wings nor claws, only a way to get close to his foes and then brutalize them with his savage fury. That was it. Charlemagne just needed a way to get close enough to attack. The plucky rooster began to flap his wings, but it got him nowhere as he merely flapped in place. He then tried to run toward his foe with the same results. He finally tried flapping his wings while running. That didn¡¯t work either. Having no long-range attack options, Charlemagne was at a loss as to how to attack an opponent that was out of reach of his beak and claws. He desperately needed a few moments for his chicken brain to come up with an idea, but his opponent wasn¡¯t just sitting idle. Red and purple light began to emanate from the blob as it powered up another attack. ¡°Wark!¡± Charlemagne shouted to no effect as the glow intensified. He could only cringe helplessly, hiding his face behind a wing, as the light built to a second crescendo before lancing out towards him. He screamed as pain greater than any he had ever felt enveloped his entire body, from the top of his crop to the talons on his toes. Under the vicious assault, he could feel his body giving out. He was being undone. Everything hurt. His feathers had largely burnt off, his crop was half melted, and his skin felt extra crispy all over. Just moving to better guard his face caused him to almost reel in agony as his ligaments and muscles tore themselves apart. Even the poor rooster¡¯s bones hurt. Finally, after what the second attack ended. The only reason that Charlemagne didn¡¯t collapse was that he couldn¡¯t. His legs and one of his wings were completely useless. He flapped his one good wing in a combination of panic and anger, but that only brought more pain and no positive results. Although Charlemagne did not have the intellect to appreciate just how bad a match-up this was for him, he was nonetheless able to feel the injustice of his situation. White hot rage coursed through his veins, somehow soothing the worst of his injuries and sending new strength throughout his entire body. However, Charlemagne¡¯s opponent was not idle while he reveled in the new sensation and slowly recovered his strength. All too soon, it launched another wave of deadly light towards the young rooster. Charlemagne burned for the third time in a row, barely clinging to life. His wings and legs were completely charred, his eyes had melted away, and his body was covered in third and fourth-degree burns. Without a miracle, there was no way he¡¯d survive another assault. ¡°Why is Charlemagne just lying there!¡± Grimfalk demanded as he leaped up and began stalking back and forth, his tail waving angrily all over the place and almost knocking down one of the room¡¯s two standing lamps. ¡°His vitals are all over the place¡­is he sick? In some sort of healing coma? An unexpected evolution maybe?¡± Longclaw opened her mouth to respond, but before she could get a word out, a green telephone icon appeared on the screen. Grimfalk stopped his pacing to stare at the icon. ¡°Quick! Answer it,¡± he demanded. Longclaw wordlessly complied. The upper portion of what could only be described as a blue blob filled most of the screen. A black stovepipe hat sat directly on top of the creature, jiggling just the tiniest bit in time with the blob who wore it. A tendril formed from one of the creature¡¯s sides, waving in a rather disarming manner at the pair of theropods. ¡°Hi Grimfalk! And Lady Longclaw, it¡¯s so good to see you!¡± Longclaw waved back and responded, ¡°Hi Plasmodius, long time no see. What are you up to?¡± "Ah, I presumed you might wish to observe my Champion engage yours in combat. After all, I am aware that you possess merely the standard viewing package, rendering you unable to witness the duel presently unfolding upon the metaphysical plane. I must say, my Champion is thoroughly thrashing yours at this very moment¡ªquite spectacularly, I might add. I daresay he¡¯s on the verge of delivering a finishing blow. Care to have a look?" ¡°I will gut you like a fish!¡± Grimfalk roared as he lunged toward the screen. His cavernous jaws opened wide, threatening to engulf the screen. Longclaw chose not to intervene, her poker face formidable as she watched the situation unfold around her. Grimfalk caught himself moments before the screen was crunched, retracting his jaws and regaining his composure. On the other end of the line, Plasmodius radiated amusement but chose not to say anything until Grimfalk had retaken his seat. ¡°I would be remiss if I failed to point out that I do not possess any organs that can be ¡®gutted, my dear Grimfalk. Yet while we dally so, I fear that your Champion¡¯s condition grows more dire by the moment. We may miss the denouement entirely if we do not hasten.¡± ¡°Fine,¡± Grimfalk ground out, small tongues of fire emanating from his nostrils as he seethed. ¡°Show me,¡± he added. ¡°Very good, just one tick while I patch this in¡­there. You should be able to hear me still. Testing, one, two.¡± The screen changed abruptly to show the battle between the plasmodium Champion and Charlemagne. The poor rooster was being slowly fried to death as the powerful beam attacks from his opponent slowly wore down what passed for his body on the metaphysical plane. Grimfalk¡¯s merciless talons carved deep gouges in the reinforced leather sofa as he could only watch, helpless to assist, as his Champion suffered. ¡°I had high hopes that some of my Champions would meet those of President Brett on the front lines before Integration Day, but it seems our dear President is sitting on the sidelines for the moment. Oh, I can¡¯t wait to see how deliciously underhanded his scheme will turn out. By the by, I fear I have been terribly impolite. Allow me to introduce you to Falciparius-221B. He¡¯s one of my favorite Champions, you know. Terrific ability set, terrifyingly fast reproduction speed, and one-hundred-percent lethal so far. It is unfortunate that your Champion ran ¡®afowl¡¯ of him. But, such is life¡­¡± This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Longclaw groaned at the bad pun as Grimfalk leaned forward, noticing something that hadn¡¯t been visible a moment before. Something that could turn the tide of battle in Charlemagne¡¯s favor. ¡°If you¡¯re so sure that your guy is gonna win,¡± he retorted, putting on an air of nonchalance. ¡°Why don¡¯t we make this interesting?¡± Although he lacked facial features, Plasmodius nonetheless appeared shocked. ¡°My dear Grimfalk! What are you proposing? That we sully our honor by placing a wager on the results of this combat? Perish the thought!¡± ¡°Plasmodius,¡± Longclaw butted in. ¡°Everyone knows you haven¡¯t turned down a wager in over five thousand years. You can drop the act.¡± ¡°You wound me, Lady Longclaw. Do you not know that one cannot leap directly to the main event? When there is a good wager to be made, the anticipation of the deal can be just as scrumptious as the¡­outcome. But, perhaps you have a point. The matter is, shall we say, somewhat time-sensitive. How much were you thinking of wagering?¡± Grimfalk took a quick glance at the screen, confirming that he had indeed seen something that Plasmodius was seemingly unaware of. ¡°That depends,¡± he answered smoothly, leaning forward. ¡°How much you got?¡± The plasmodium Champion¡¯s attack took longer to arrive than expected, but its power seemed to dwarf that of the previous three beams. Charlemagne ignored it as best as he could, focusing instead on the feeling of soothing warmth that had now settled in his chest and was growing stronger by the moment. Having no eyes or working limbs made it easier for Charlemagne to send his attention inward, allowing him to enter into a sort of trance: his ravaged flesh had reached a place beyond pain, his mind a state of emptiness that surpassed the patience of a thousand birds of prey, and his soul had passed through the fires of suffering to a state beyond hope and fear. In other words, he was in a perfect condition to meditate and, seeing as his consciousness had been pulled to a metaphysical plane, in a perfect place to do so. A blue light began to glow from deep inside him, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. Grimfalk and Longclaw were on the edges of their seats as Charlemagne¡¯s metaphysical body gave out, crumbling away as the searing light continued to wash over him. His head, neck, and torso vanished in moments. His ribs held out a little longer before burning away along with the sternum. After a few more moments, the only thing that remained was Charlemagne¡¯s beating heart. A light blue glowing sphere made of energy was tucked up next to it. The pair beat slowly together at first, but the time between beats shortened after every pulse. The sphere¡¯s glow continued to intensify until blue light flooded the metaphysical battle space, while the heart¡¯s frenetic beating drowned out all other sounds. Back in Grimfalk¡¯s dimension, the theropod was grinning. ¡°He¡¯s done it, he¡¯s really done it!¡± the deity announced with glee. ¡°I didn¡¯t expect him to awaken any sort of advanced skill this early, certainly not before his class selection!¡± ¡°Is that a mana core?¡± Longclaw asked as she risked a side glance at the blindingly bright screen. ¡°The System documentation said they were very rare and only given to talented individuals who can create a connection between their spirit and corporeal bodies.¡± ¡°And that¡¯s just what he¡¯s done!¡± Grimfalk cried in triumph. He opened his mouth to continue, but at that moment, Plasmodius¡¯ outraged voice cut in over the heartbeats. ¡°This is absurd, I say! Entirely rubbish. My champion is the epitome of lethality, a deadly scourge that none can resist. How can this¡­this¡­rooster cling to life so stubbornly!¡± ¡°Listen, my friend,¡± Grimfalk responded, feeling generous now that he had all but won the bet. ¡°I know what it¡¯s like to bet big and lose. There¡¯s no shame in backing your own species over all others, so no hard feelings, all right? Maybe next time your guy will kill mine.¡± ¡°I may have lost the bet, good Grimfalk, yet my Champion remains willing and able to continue the contest. Your Champion seems to be lacking a significant amount of body parts¡­in fact¡­I still don¡¯t know exactly how he¡¯s still alive. I am most vexed.¡± Longclaw looked over at Grimfalk, and, after receiving a nod of approval, fielded the question. ¡°Charlemagne, our Champion, has just awakened a mana core. It¡¯s an advanced skill granted by the System, but according to what I¡¯ve read, it seems that the core acts as an additional power source that will increase the effectiveness of all attributes. Additionally, it grants the owner access to mana if they couldn¡¯t already use it. Right now, there are probably only a handful of Champions who have managed to unlock mana. And remember that on the metaphysical plane, where biology doesn¡¯t really matter, mana is an extremely useful asset, acting as a willpower multiplier, damage shield, and a vehicle to convey conceptual attacks. In fact¡­how did your own Champion unlock the ability to drag Charlemagne to the metaphysical plane in the first place?¡± For a blob of cytoplasm, Plasmodius managed to look awfully nervous. ¡°Well¡­er¡­you see¡­that is¡­I¡¯m not exactly at liberty to discuss how my Champion gained that capability.¡± ¡°Why you little¡­¡± Grimfalk began before Longclaw cut in. ¡°We understand, and of course, we¡¯re not going to be revealing all of Charlemagne¡¯s cards either. Not that we need to at this point. Look, you can actually see what¡¯s going on again.¡± The blinding light had finally faded enough for the trio to see what was going on in the battle of Champions. Charlemagne¡¯s body has begun to rapidly reform from the inside out, concealing the mana core nestled up against his heart as his organs, bones, muscles, skin, and even feathers regrew. Something about the rooster felt different, however. It was almost as if Charlemagne had been nothing more than an insubstantial ghost up until now. His appearance was largely unchanged, but there were subtle changes. His beak was a bit longer and curved down just a tad at the end, similar to an eagle¡¯s. His wings had lengthened and looked stronger. Finally, his feathers briefly cycled through the colors of the rainbow before settling back down to their original color: shiny black with just a hint of iridescence. Having fully regenerated, he eyed his opponent again. Gone was the pained, panicked look. His gaze was like that of a judge, an eye that measured up the world and found it wanting. There was a long pause as the two Champions sized each other up. Then Charlemagne spoke a single word. ¡°Die.¡± Mana began to surge out of his core and gathered in the rooster¡¯s throat. As the power swelled and condensed, a corona of blue flames emanated from Charlemagne¡¯s body, rising higher and swelling outward as he struggled to put all of his newfound power into a single attack. He clamped down on the mana will all of his willpower, somehow realizing that if he lost control of the attack, it would destroy him in an instant. For a few long, tense moments, the mana destabilized, sending out a few stray beams of power that punched through the rooster¡¯s throat and disappeared off into the vast nothingness of the metaphysical plane. Charlemagne refused to stop, however, wrenching the mana back under his control and forcing even more into the ball. When the ball felt completely full, he turned his attention to his opponent and flapped his wings. And this time, he moved. It was just the barest of inches, but he began to close the distance with his parasitic foe. ¡°No!¡± the other Champion yelled as Charlemagne inched forward. It redoubled its efforts to bring its full power to bear as well, channeling more of whatever energy it was using through its body and into another attack. This time, however, a purple aura tinged with streaks of red flared up around the blob, warring against the blue flames that were emanating from the rooster. The dueling auras grew even more intense as both fighters poured everything they had into offense, knowing that there was no point in conserving their strength. After this attack, one would live, and the other would die. The plasmodium Champion released its attack first, punctuating its release with a sharp exhalation. ¡°Haaaa!!!!!¡± Time felt like it slowed down to a crawl as Charlemagne saw the angry beam of light stab outward directly towards him. He could feel the power roiling off the attack and instinctively knew that it was far stronger than the previous assaults he had barely survived. The mana accumulated in his own attack practically begged to be released, he once again had to struggle to contain it and force it to act as he desired. And yet he forced the mana to wait since it was not yet time to act. He closed his eyes, feeling out the distance with a sense he did not possess before his transformation. In his mind¡¯s eye, he could sense the beam of light rolling in like the tide: powerful, inexorable, but unfocused. His own held less raw power, but it was far more compact. The timing would have to be perfect if he was to survive. The moment arrived, as he knew it would, and Charlemagne opened his eyes. The rooster¡¯s mouth opened wide, wider than should have been possible given his avian biology. A bright blue ball of energy gathered inside the open mouth, growing in luminosity until it looked like a star, a pinpoint of light blazing in the vastness of space yet visible across nigh-endless distances. ¡°Buk-kawk!¡± The ball swelled to over doubled Charlemagne¡¯s size as it surged forward, slamming into the oncoming purple beam and splitting it in two. The two halves of the now disrupted attack passed by on either side of Charlemagne, taking a few of his feathers but leaving him otherwise intact. The heat that roiled off the attack was incredible. It would have charred Charlemagne to a crisp had it struck even a glancing blow. Having broken the enemy¡¯s attack, the ball proceeded to force its way upstream, muscling through the less dense energy slowly but surely. It continued to lose velocity and size, however, the closer it got to the other Champion, who was still managing to maintain the enormous beam attack despite the incredible drain. The plasmodium roared as it fought with every scrap of power at its disposal to push back Charlemagne¡¯s attack, slowing the ball of blue energy and causing it to shed volume at a much quicker rate. But the strain was beginning to show as the extra effort rapidly wore down the enemy Champion, and its attack began to sputter. Charlemagne¡¯s orb advanced more rapidly again, gaining momentum as the plasmodium flagged. But the orb was still shrinking. By the time it was close enough to threaten the enemy Champion, it was only the size of a tennis ball. The plasmodium Champion gave one last cry and pushed out a final wave of energy that completely obscured Charlemagne¡¯s attack. With the last of its reserves spent, it slumped over. Charlemagne¡¯s energy ball was no longer sufficient to disrupt the purple and red wave, and he was forced to use what little mana he had left to shield himself from the attack. Thankfully, the attack was far weaker than it had been when the enemy was at full strength because his hastily constructed defenses barely held. If the enemy was given time to recover, he wasn¡¯t sure how long he could hold out. The backwash from all the power being thrown around had temporarily disrupted Charlemagne¡¯s new energy sense, so he had temporarily lost sight of his attack. As the leftover power from the plasmodium Champion¡¯s final push dissipated, he found it again. It had once again shrunk down in size, now no longer than a pea, but it was dead on target. It passed straight through the enemy Champion, punching through both its outer membrane and the inner membrane that separated the red and purple core from the rest of the being¡¯s amorphous body, before dissipating. Despite its obvious fatigue, the enemy¡¯s reaction was instantaneous and dramatic. It shrieked and began to undulate wildly as the reddish-purple contents of its nucleus leaked out into the blue cytoplasm. As the two fluids mixed, the plasmodium Champion grew steadily weaker, its aura all but disappearing. Charlemagne was confused by the strange turn of events. To his underdeveloped mind, his attack had not dealt the other being a significant blow, much less a mortal one. Fearing some sort of trap, he kept his distance as the light inside the other being slowly faded away. Once his opponent had gone completely limp and the light inside it was entirely gone, Charlemagne waited a few moments before moving just the tiniest bit closer. He still wasn¡¯t sure that the other creature was not playing dead, and his recently awakened power sense had been overwhelmed by the enormous amounts of energy being thrown around moments ago. Ooze continued to leak out of the injured plasmodium, forming a long, thin string that gently floated nearby. The rooster watched as the string slowly lengthened, wondering if it was edible. Feeling that the danger had passed, Charlemagne flapped his wings and edged closer. It was then that the squiggles reappeared, as beautiful as ever. Even better, Charlemagne could tell that they brought incredible news.
Congratulations, you have earned the achievement (Tempered Soul). You are among the first 100 beings to undergo soul tempering, an arduous process that unlocks hidden potential and future growth. Skills related to your soul will be easier to acquire. Attributes are ten percent more effective. Congratulations, you have earned the achievement (Not Enough Energy). You are among the first 100 beings to have unlocked a hidden energy skill. Attributes are ten percent more effective. Congratulations, you have unlocked the hidden energy skill: Mana Core. As an advanced skill, Mana Core encapsulates several basic skills including Mana Sense, Mana Manipulation, Mana Absorption, Mana Circulation, and Mana Reinforcement. Additional compatible skills may be fused into Mana Core as they are unlocked. The effectiveness of your Mana Core is dependent upon the skill¡¯s level, your Special Attribute, your natural aptitude towards mana, and several hidden factors. Consult the System Guide for all publically available information on Mana Core. In addition, the presence of mana circulating through your body may affect your physical size. Increasing the level of your Mana Core skill will grant you increased control over this effect. Congratulations, you have earned the achievement (Champion Slayer). You will deal five percent additional damage to other Champions. This achievement may be upgraded. Congratulations, Additional template compatibility unlocked for Theropod (partial). Current process to next level is 132 percent. Advanced Skills Added Mana Core Skills Increased Mana Core 1-> 3 Congratulations, you are now level 6. Attributes Updated Strength: (32->34) Dexterity: (28->30) Durability: (30->32) Special: (30->40) Congratulations, you are now level 7. Attributes Updated Strength: (34->36) Dexterity: (30->32) Durability: (32->34) Special: (40->42) Congratulations, you are now level 8. Attributes Updated Strength: (36->38) Dexterity: (32->34) Durability: (34->36) Special: (42->44)
Chapter 6 Back in Grimfalk''s domain, the theropod deity watched as his Champion examined the corpse of the plasmodium. Charlemagne had not only awakened a hidden power and pulled off a victory against a stronger opponent, but he had also enabled Grimfalk to win a sizable measure of power. And that was on top of the wager that Grimfalk had made with Plasmodius. The deity had every reason to shout for joy, yet he was yelling at the screen in anger. "Why won''t you eat it!? You literally just got a Special Ability that makes you stronger when you eat Champions. Stop just standing there staring at it! Are you chicken or something? It''s dead. It''s totally dead. Can''t you tell? Just eat it! Eat it!!!!!!!" Longclaw waited for her companion to lose steam before interrupting the tirade. "I hate to be that creature, but your Champion already ingested the plasmodium Champion in his physical body. I''m not sure that consuming it on the metaphysical plane will do anything. What exactly would he even get out of eating a dead spirit?" "Well...that is...I guess you¡¯re right. Plus, it would be bad manners for Charlemagne to eat Plasmodius¡¯ Champion right in front of him, wouldn¡¯t it?¡± Grimfalk responded with a nervous laugh. ¡°Speaking of¡­uh, Plasmodius¡­about our little wager¡­¡± The feed cut off and the quivering blob of a deity reappeared, minus the top hat. ¡°I trust you are questioning neither my integrity nor my memory,¡± the plasmodium hissed with barely contained fury. ¡°As per the terms of our arrangement, your payment will be processed in the next twenty-four hours. I do hope you won¡¯t spend it all at once.¡± ¡°Uh, no. I wouldn¡¯t dream of it,¡± Grimfalk denied despite having planned to do exactly that. ¡°I¡¯ll save some for a rainy eon, yeah.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± sniffed Plasmodius, managing to sound condescending with a single word. ¡°Perhaps a rain in the figurative sense, like a certain event some sixty-six million years ago.¡± Longclaw glanced quickly over at Grimfalk to confirm that he had indeed understood the insult before stepping in once again. ¡°Well, it was delightful to see you again, Plasmodius. I do hope that we¡¯ll have the opportunity in the future to work together rather than pit our Champions against each other. There could be some interesting synergies once we¡¯re able to field multiple Champions at once. But for now, we have a great deal of planning to do and I¡¯m sure you do too.¡± Plasmodius had managed to stealthily retrieve his hat during the conversation. Using a pseudopod, he swept it off and made the blob equivalent of a bow. ¡°Lady Longclaw, it is always a delight to see you. If you ever have need of me, you know where to find me.¡± Without further ceremony, the screen cut off. Grimfalk waited a moment to ensure that he and Longclaw were alone before collapsing onto the sofa, choking back tears. ¡°He just had to go and mention it, didn¡¯t he,¡± he moaned as Longclaw attempted to hand the grieving deity a tissue. ¡°Every time something good happens, someone always has to bring up the¡­the¡­¡± ¡°Shhh,¡± Longclaw said as she held up one of her talons to her mouth. ¡°It was mean of him to bring up the meteor, yes. But you¡¯ll pull through. You always have and you always will. Besides, we beat him, and with the divinity you won in the bet, plus what you¡¯ll be earning from Charlemagne¡¯s performance today, you don¡¯t have to choose anymore. We can pick that Brahma in Spain and still have plenty left over to give Charlemagne a boost after his next devolution.¡± Grimfalk sniffed and gave Longclaw a hopeful look. ¡°You mean we can have Ricardo the Rooster?¡± Longclaw plastered on her best smile. ¡°Yes, of course. But let¡¯s circle back on that name later, okay? By the way, is it all right if I turn the screen back on? I want to see if Charlemagne has woken up yet.¡± The other theropod shook his head. ¡°There¡¯s no way he¡¯s going to wake up for a while yet. He¡¯s got to digest the enemy Champion and process all the changes that just happened to his body and soul. I wouldn¡¯t be surprised if he didn¡¯t wake up until the next morning. And in the meantime¡­¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Longclaw laughed. ¡°We can do some online shopping. We¡¯re going to need a lot more snacks, especially if we have to watch two Champions at the same time.¡± Back on Earth, Charlemagne slowly opened his eyes and looked around. As his pupils adjusted to the light, which was still quite strong even in the shade, he noticed that everything was much clearer. He stood up and found that the ground was much further away than it usually was. The change puzzled him, but he didn¡¯t have time to stand around and work out what exactly had changed. A shout nearby and the shrill blast of a whistle alerted him to incoming danger. As four uniformed men ran towards him with their guns leveled, Charlemagne disappeared deeper into the woods. Although the rooster had no way of knowing how much time had elapsed since he had eaten the plasmodium-infected lizard, over two days had passed on Earth while Charlemagne had been unconscious. The Beninese military had been called in to hunt down the wild beast that had somehow managed to kill two police officers in broad daylight before escaping. An extensive search of the forest where Charlemagne was holed up had taken place, and multiple officers had simply passed by the rooster without giving him a second glance. After all, who would have suspected that the diminutive creature was actually the killer? But, unfortunately for Charlemagne, he was no longer diminutive. His Mana Core had been hard at work while his body was dormant, absorbing the traces of ambient mana and storing them. As he regained consciousness, it began to pulse in time with his heartbeat, and since Mana Core also encapsulated the Mana Reinforcement skill, each pulse of mana coursing through his body benefits, enlarging his muscles, strengthening his bones, enhancing his physical sense, improving the ability of his blood to transport oxygen, making his organs more efficient at their various tasks, and even sharpening his intellect. He was now the size of a large turkey, an animal unknown to most of West Africa, and about as heavy as a medium-sized dog. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. A burst of gunfire erupted behind the fleeing bird, raking through the tall grass and bushes and carving deep holes into the palm trees scattered about the dense vegetation. A number of those bullets slammed into Charlemagne, leaving deep welts in his skin but failing to penetrate. Still, they stung. The rooster¡¯s newly enhanced intellect warned him to flee until he could turn the tables on the humans, making them the hunted instead of the hunters. And for that, he needed to head deeper into the bush. Thub Thub Thub Thub Thub The rhythmic beat of a helicopter¡¯s rotor drowned out the shouts of the soldiers as a small Sikorski S-61 approached and began hovering over Charlemagne¡¯s location. The rooster picked up speed, trying to leave the strange metal insect behind, but the helicopter wasn¡¯t so easy to shake. After a few minutes of running northeast, Charlemagne broke out of the dense undergrowth and found himself in a large open field. Putting on a burst of speed, he was pleasantly surprised to see the aircraft falling behind him. As a flightless bird, the sensation of pure velocity was something that Charlemagne had never really experienced. After his growth spurt, however, his top land speed rivaled that of a car, and the feel of the wind rustling his feathers and tickling his beak was intoxicating. He pushed himself even harder. His joy was short-lived, as three Toyota Hilux trucks carrying soldiers bounced into view and slammed on their brakes. One of them had a curious stick mounted on the back that looked like a larger version of the weapons that the other soldiers carried. If it was a larger weapon, Charlemagne reasoned, slowly getting used to using his brain on the fly, then it would be stronger and hurt more than the weapons he had already experienced. And those hurt a lot. A staccato burst of noise ripped through the air as the 50 caliber Browning machine gun mounted to the back of the Hilux launched a steady stream of bullets toward the sprinting rooster. Although most missed, a few stray bullets found their mark, this time slamming through Charlemagne¡¯s defenses. The combination of shock and sheer force from the bullets caused him to trip, which saved his life by taking him out of the line of fire. He rolled to a stop in a bloody heap and lay still, wondering how he could fight something that hurt him so badly from a distance. This also saved his life, as the machine gun ceased firing and a squad of 4 men advanced to check out his body. Although he was wounded, Charlemagne¡¯s Mana Core still held a considerable amount of power, and his body was replete with the stored nutrients contained inside the placenta and the lizard that he had recently eaten. Even as he played dead, these two healing elements worked in tandem to close his wounds and replace the blood that he had lost. Since Mana Core was a skill normally not unlocked even by mana-sensitive species before level 25, it was especially effective at shoring up Charlemagne¡¯s relatively low-level body. The rooster waited with closed eyes, using his other senses to mark the approach of the armed soldiers. They didn¡¯t possess enough mana, and he did not have enough finesse with his skill, to monitor their approach using his mana sense, but his smell and hearing were both up for the job. Especially because the soldiers smelled like they had not showered in over a week. The 4 men whispered quietly and urgently amongst themselves, but, being a chicken, Charlemagne had no idea what they were saying. Then one of the men moved forward, either to get a better look or to finish Charlemagne off. That was when the rooster dropped his ruse and went back on the offensive. The poor soldier managed to get off a short burst of fire as Charlemagne burst from the ground and leaped high into the air, striking the man in the neck and finishing him with one well-placed peck. His claws dug deep into the dying man¡¯s chest as he slammed into the soldier with all his body weight, pivoted, and then pushed off again in the opposite direction. He could see the helicopter looming over him in the sky again as he made a break for the dense vegetation, realizing that he needed it to keep him safe from the weapon attached to the truck. The three surviving soldiers yelled and fired after him, but they were terrible shots, and only managed to tag him a few times before he was too far away to be hurt. The machine gun on the truck spun back up a few seconds before he made it back into the woods. Thankfully, the initial volley was way off and the operator didn¡¯t have time to adjust it before Charlemagne had once against disappeared into the foliage. As the rooster jogged through between trees and powered through the dense underbrush, a simple plan began to form in his bird brain. He needed to get rid of that helicopter. Since it took a lot of energy to fly, the giant insect must have trouble staying still in the air for that long. Eventually, it would get tired and either have to land or go away. Then he would be able to move around without the humans knowing where he was going. With this goal in mind, Charlemagne kept on the move, staying well within the forested area while catching and eating anything that he came across: mice, lizards, and the occasional complacent bird. His body, happy for the new biomass, used the opportunity to recover completely, but he did not gain any other benefit from eating this mundane fare. Almost an hour later, Charlemagne realized that his plan had a serious flaw. He had assumed that the humans had only tamed one giant flying insect. That assumption was proven incorrect when a second flier joined the first one, creating an even more annoying drone that covered the entire area. He did feel partially better when the first insect turned around and slowly flew away, proving that the fliers did get tired. However, that left him in a worse position than before. He was still stuck in a small, wooded area and had already consumed most of the other animals that lived there. As his brain sluggishly stumbled toward the conclusion that continuing to wait was going to be a bad idea, a new development made that train of thought obsolete. From somewhere outside the forest, there was a loud popping sound. Charlemagne¡¯s prey instincts took over for a moment, causing him to freeze up upon hearing the unexpected noise. For several long seconds, nothing happened. Then the forest around him blew up. Ka-Boom The Beninese military had not been idle while the rooster was contained. Every available soldier had been mustered to surround the small forest, reinforcing them with elements from the local police where possible. Actual machine gun nests were set up at regular intervals, while small clusters of Hilux trucks waited further back, ready to intercept the now-enormous rooster should it make an appearance. Finally, the military had deployed five self-propelled howitzers. The arrival of their initial salvo was the reason that Charlemagne knew that his time in the forest was limited. Ears ringing from the aftermath of five 105-millimeter shells landing nearby, Charlemagne¡¯s ire was directed at the only enemy that he could see: the helicopter that was hovering well above his position. Anger welled up inside his chest as he sought a means to attack the enormous flying insect. His Mana Core responded to his intent, spooling out thick threads of mana and forming them into a ball in his throat. Long seconds passed as he continued to charge his attack, but the howitzers were busy reloading and adjusting their aim, allowing him to prepare his attack in peace. As the mana condensed in his throat, the rooster pushed his skill to its utmost, emptying his core almost entirely. A blue aura appeared around him as Charlemagne gathered as much of the ambient mana as he could, cycling his core furiously to pump whatever leftover scraps of power were available into the attack. Finally, he was ready. He looked the helicopter straight in what he believed to be its eye and unleashed his charged attack into the air. ¡°Buk-kawk!¡± The attack punched through the tree line and continued upward toward its target. Charlemagne watched with anticipation as the ball of mana dissipated into a wave of mana that threatened to engulf the shining insect floating high above him. He watched with confusion as the wave itself began to dissipate. Finally, he watched in rage as the wave disappeared completely before it had even crossed half the distance to the helicopter. Chapter 7 Back in Grimfalk¡¯s dimension, Longclaw turned to her companion and sighed. ¡°Well, that was unfortunate. Charlemagne is really in a bind now that his attack didn¡¯t work. I wonder what he¡¯s going to do next. Do you think he can escape?¡± Grimfalk pulled his attention away from the second screen, which showed an enormous rooster terrorizing a local grocery store and frowned. ¡°Of course, he can escape. He¡¯s a lot stronger than he thinks he is, and once he figures out how to take down that ¡®chopper¡¯ or whatever you called it, he¡¯ll be fine. Did he eat anything fun recently?¡± Longclaw shook her head. ¡°Not really. He found a confused bat, but that¡¯s about it.¡± ¡°Meh,¡± Grimfalk retorted, taking a long swig of Stoat Water. ¡°So what happened to his attack? The one that didn¡¯t work?¡± ¡°The ambient mana is just too thin on Earth, still. There wasn¡¯t enough in the attack for it to maintain cohesion, so it broke apart. So now Charlemagne¡¯s Mana Core is empty, putting him in an even worse spot.¡± ¡°He doesn¡¯t need the Mana Core to beat those humans,¡± Grimfalk retorted. ¡°He¡¯s got all the tools he needs¡­he¡¯s just gotta use his head.¡± Charlemagne was stumped and angry. He had just launched the same attack that had worked so well against the weird blob enemy in the floaty place, but it hadn¡¯t hurt the metal insect at all. The attack had also left him fatigued. His Mana Core no longer had sufficient stores of mana to continue pumping the amazing substance through his body, which was now dependent upon mana to maintain its size and strength. The confusion and fatigue fed his smoldering rage as another salvo of artillery shells landed nearby, bombarding the rooster with pieces of shrapnel that punched through his feathers, skin, flesh, and even bones. He screeched, more in rage than pain, as he attempted to formulate a new plan. If only he could reach the metal insect, he could consume it from the inside out. Charlemagne¡¯s head began to ache from the mental strain, but he persisted. Suddenly a series of pictures ran through the rooster¡¯s mind, showing him a way that he could prevail. Charlemagne instinctively began to pull the thin ambient mana into his Mana Core, forcing it to circulate throughout his body as he raced through the thick jungle. His target was a palm tree that was located directly underneath the buzzing insect. Other than its favorable location, the tree stood out in two other ways. The first was that it was one of the tallest trees in the forest. The second was that its trunk was just the slightest bit crooked. The rooster hit the base of the tree at full speed and began running directly up the trunk. He leaped high into the air just before reaching the fronds and unfurled his powerful wings. Although not built for flight, most chicken breeds can stave off the pull of gravity for a while. This is especially true for smaller types of chickens like the poulet bicyclet, which have not been intensively bred for meat production. As a paragon of his species, Charlemagne possessed far greater strength than the average rooster. His wingspan had also increased when his body had been reforged by his Mana Core. Due to these changes, flying for an extended period of time was well within Charlemagne¡¯s capabilities. He just hadn¡¯t realized it until a few moments before. With strong but definitely ungraceful strokes from his wings, the rooster muscled his way through the air, closing in on the helicopter¡¯s underside in just a matter of moments. The crew, having lost track of Charlemagne when he launched himself up the palm tree, had no idea that they were in danger. Each flap brought the young rooster closer to his goal, but the going got harder and harder the closer he got to the flying insect. There was some sort of force pushing him back down toward the ground. In fact, Charlemagne was struggling against the helicopter¡¯s tremendous downdraft, which was a direct result of its rotor generating the lift necessary to keep the aircraft in the air. A mistimed flap accidentally carried Charlemagne out from underneath the helicopter, providing instant relief from the powerful winds and allowing him to reach the same altitude as the machine. As luck would have it, he avoided the deadly rotor and instead slammed beak first into the Sikorsky S-61¡¯s square windshield, cracking the thick laminated glass but failing to puncture it all the way through. Inside, the two pilots panicked; with one reaching for her sidearm while the other put the helicopter into a climb. But Charlemagne wasn¡¯t going anywhere. The rooster¡¯s razor-sharp talons found purchase in the metal frame, and he used the new leverage to peck the glass over and over, each strike building on the last to create a deep hole ringed by cracks in the windshield. With a final strike, the rooster succeeded in forcing his beak all the way through the reinforced glass. Then the pilot opened fire. Blam Blam Blam The barrage continued nonstop until all eighteen bullets had been expended. Most of the shots had struck the windshield and failed to penetrate, but a few struck Charlemagne in the beak, breaking pieces away and sending shocks of sharp pain through his face. The rooster pulled his head backward, ignoring the agony as he gripped the helicopter¡¯s metal body even tighter. Having cracked the shell of the insect while taking minimal damage, Charlemagne squeezed himself through the hole he¡¯d made, gracelessly faceplanting into one of the pilot¡¯s chairs before recovering his footing and perching on the top of the chair. The rooster stared at the humans intently, his bird brain belatedly wondering what humans were doing inside the flying insect. No, it was not an insect, he slowly came to realize. It was something different, like the things with wheels that the humans rode all over to compensate for how slowly they ran. Unfortunately for the rooster, that was the sum of his revelations on the subject: he still lacked the mental capacity to draw additional conclusions based on this information. And the humans weren¡¯t going to give him any more time to stop and ponder. The two pilots had frozen up in horror for a few moments after Charlemagne literally ripped their windshield from its mounting and casually hopped on board after taking multiple gunshots to the face. However, their professionalism reasserted itself and they sprang into action, with the male copilot drawing his own Sig sidearm and firing it almost point-blank into the rooster while his companion desperately grabbed for a new magazine so she could reload. If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. As the barrage of semi-automatic fire slammed into him, Charlemagne squawked in outrage and pain. The shots didn¡¯t break his enhanced skin, but they still left deep overlapping bruises on his chest and left leg. The attack also made it easy for him to decide which of the humans to go after first, so he rushed forward and used Peck on the kneecap of the man who had just shot him. It exploded. The pilot screamed and collapsed into the wall of the cramped cockpit, dropping the firearm as he fell. The other pilot abandoned her attempts to reload her own pistol and flung open the cockpit door, yelling something that Charlemagne couldn¡¯t interpret but nonetheless understood was a cry for help. The rooster pivoted and caught her in the ankle before she got away. With both pilots down, Charlemagne turned back to the man lying in the cockpit, finishing him off with a quick strike to the neck. Before he could turn around to take care of the other human, there was a flash of movement in his peripheral vision. The rooster turned around just in time to catch the first round from an M249 Squad Automatic Weapon right in the sternum. Jalen Briggs was a contractor for the government of Benin, working security for a program that provided logistical support for operations in Park Pendjari. When the government had asked his six-person, two-helicopter force to help them track down an unknown animal that had killed two police officers, he had thought that the entire situation was some sort of bizarre political theater. Without any clear idea of what exactly they were looking for, the squad had pulled two back-to-back four-hour flights, returning to the airport in Cotonou just long enough to refuel, hit the head, and grab a protein bar. After returning from their second stint, he and the two pilots had just finished stowing all their gear and putting the aircraft to sleep when the call from the Beninese military came in: the other air team had spotted something and needed assistance. By this point in his career, Briggs had mastered the art of swearing, and as he broke all the gear back out, he wove a tapestry of obscenity that would have given his grandmother a heart attack had she not lost her hearing a few years back. Garcia and Pitt, his two pilots, had run off to give instructions to the ground crew. Briggs liked working with them: they treated him as an equal instead of as hired help as some pilots were known to do. The trio quickly worked to refuel and get the aircraft back in the air, before heading almost due west of Cotonou to rendezvous with the other element of their team. The flight took just over ten minutes at full speed. When they arrived, he got on the radio with Hank Cliffton, the other aircraft¡¯s crew chief, to take over tracking the target using the helicopter¡¯s infrared search and track system. ¡°Whatever this thing is, it¡¯s fast,¡± Cliffton relayed as Briggs struggled to spot the heat signature of what the other man had described as a large, flightless bird with razor-sharp claws and a beak powerful enough to shatter bones. I¡¯d estimate its top speed is only a bit slower than our own, assuming it had a level surface to accelerate. In the jungle, it¡¯s a lot slower.¡± ¡°I still don¡¯t see it,¡± Briggs griped. ¡°Wait, there it is. If it didn¡¯t have two legs, I¡¯d swear it wasn¡¯t a bird at all. You think maybe it¡¯s an albatross that got really lost? I¡¯d hate to kill something like that. Isn¡¯t that bad luck?¡± ¡°You¡¯re thinking of the ¡®Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner¡¯,¡± Cliffton said with a chuckle. ¡°Killing an albatross isn¡¯t bad luck, but I think it¡¯s illegal. Well, illegal in the United States. Ain¡¯t nothing illegal in Benin but making the government look bad.¡± After the other helicopter departed to refuel, Briggs took over relaying the position of the unidentified but allegedly hostile heat source to the Beninese military, which had surrounded the forest in which the animal was hiding. Cliffton had been right: the little bugger was fast when it decided to move. The heat source stayed mostly still but occasionally zoomed around like a cockroach, always staying within the confines of the small forest. He watched with amusement as the army began shelling the forest, wondering how they had managed to scare up five artillery pieces in such a short amount of time. Up in the cockpit, he could hear Pitt cracking jokes while Garcia groaned. Suddenly the creature took off sprinting, moving faster than ever. It ran straight into the trunk of a tree before making a hard turn and disappearing. ¡°It¡¯s gone,¡± he yelled over his in-helmet communications gear. ¡°Hold steady while I reacquire.¡± ¡°What do you mean, ¡®it¡¯s gone¡¯,¡± Garcia demanded. ¡°Is the thermal on the fritz again?¡± The argument was interrupted by an enormous thump from the cockpit, followed by a shout of surprise and fear from Pitt. ¡°Get the SAW,¡± Garcia shouted. ¡°What?¡± Briggs called back, confused. Violent extremists operated only in the north of the country. There was no way they¡¯d attack all the way down by the coast. Multiple deafening blasts from a pistol shook him from his reverie and the man raced to get his weapon. It took precious seconds for him to break it out and turn off the safety. His hands trembled as more gunshots ripped through the air, followed by a sudden scream from Pitt. As he turned back toward the cockpit, the familiar weight of his M249 Squad Automatic Weapon was his only comfort. Suddenly, the door to the cockpit burst open, and Garcia tumbled through, slamming hard into the metal floor. Her ankle was a bloody mess. Briggs put his finger on the trigger and moved forward with small, deliberate steps. He caught a hint of something black moving, but before he could fire, it disappeared. There was a wet gurgle from inside the cockpit. Briggs realized in horror that must have been Pitt¡¯s death rattle. Briggs was trying to figure out how exactly to step over Garcia¡¯s prone form when something appeared in the doorway. Not even bothering to register what it was, he clamped down on the trigger. The M249 roared to life, spitting a relentless stream of 5.56 rounds into the target¡¯s body. The scent of burning gunpowder and flesh filled the air, along with a smell he couldn¡¯t identify. Round after round tore into the animal¡¯s chest, shredding its fur and splattering blood all over the cockpit. The beast shrieked an ear-splitting cry that made the entire helicopter shudder. Still, Briggs held the trigger down, emptying his weapon into the creature that had downed his teammates. And then there were no more bullets. The smoking barrel steamed in the hot, humid air as the echo of gunfire faded. The former soldier panted, his heart hammering against his ribs. He finally got a good look at his opponent, realizing that the creature looked almost exactly like a giant chicken, and what he had taken for fur was in fact feathers. It was hard to tell anything beyond that, though, since the creature was a mess. Its chest was ruined, part of its face was missing, and one of its wings was only attached by a few strips of flesh. He was certain the thing was dead. And then it stood back up as if nothing had happened. A guttural growl rumbled from deep in the beast¡¯s throat as, despite its small stature, it nonetheless towered over Briggs. By all rights, it should have died from its injuries, but the strange animal barely seemed fazed. Its hellish eyes locked onto Briggs with unexpected intelligence ¨C and rage. Briggs screamed. Then, the chicken struck. A leg tipped with talons like scythes flashed out, slicing clean through Kevlar, uniform, and flesh. Pain erupted in Briggs¡¯ gut as razor-sharp claws burrowed into his stomach and tore it wide open. The man gasped, a strangled cry escaping his lips. He tried to move, to fight back, but his body refused. His vision blurred, the edges of the world turning black. The last thing he saw before the void claimed him was the giant chicken looming over him, its beak opening wide in triumph. Then everything went dark. Chapter 8 Charlemagne collapsed onto the warm metal floor of the helicopter, which was now slick with not only the blood of the humans but also his own. He was a wreck: his flesh had been pulped, his organs crushed, and even his bones had splintered under the point-blank assault. Blood oozed out from everywhere, but thankfully most of his major blood vessels were intact. He also hadn¡¯t taken too many shots to the head, leaving his skull cracked but intact. The two facts taken together meant that instead of dying immediately, he had the luxury of bleeding out slowly. As his consciousness wavered, something shuddered beneath him. Despite his injuries, the rooster suddenly felt lighter. One of the humans twitched and let out a weak groan, proving that it was still alive. Charlemagne¡¯s ancient instincts kicked in and he managed to drag himself over to the unprotected vitals of his opponent. Then he dug in, ignoring the screams as he consumed the human¡¯s richest nutrient deposits first. He didn¡¯t notice when the cries died out, but then something happened that did catch his attention. The squiggles returned.
Skills Increased Dash: 3->5 Claw: 7->8 Peck: 6->8 Hover 1->6 Skills Added Ironskin: 1 Congratulations, you are now level 9. Attributes Updated Strength: (38->40) Dexterity: (34->36) Durability: (36->38) Special: (44->46)
Charlemagne divided his limited attention between trying to understand the squiggles and continuing his meal. His ability to use his beak and claws had increased, and he felt that he could now sprint faster. The squiggles also made his skin feel funny in a good way. As Charlemagne consumed his enemy¡¯s flesh as fast as he could, his wounds started to close. Additionally, his core reached out, finding the trace amounts of mana stored in the body of his victim and absorbing it. Although he was still in a vast amount of pain, his body rapidly regained health. His right-wing, which had almost completely fallen off, sent a sharp jolt of agony through him as it reconnected. And still, he continued to eat, moving over to the body of the man who had injured him so badly so that he could absorb his power as well. His Mana Core quickly drained the man¡¯s mystical power, making him feel almost weightless. It was then that his body left the ground, and he began to slowly ascend. Charlemagne caught a glimpse of the outside world through the window as he floated by it and finally realized what was going on. He was falling. The rooster instinctively flapped his wings, feeling a sharp stab of pain as he did so. His right wing was still barely functional, but the powerful beat from his left-wing pushed him up and to the right. His vision swam for a moment as he slammed his head into the helicopter¡¯s ceiling. As he reeled from the impact, his feet landed on something softer than the metal floor of the helicopter. Looking down, he realized it was the one human that he hadn¡¯t started eating yet. Charlemagne reached down and pecked deep into the corpse¡¯s abdomen, ripping into the juicy organs with gusto. Another surge of healing nutrients and nourishing mana flowed into him. The influx of power was enough to finally restart the circulation of his Mana Core. Waves of power pulsed through Charlemagne¡¯s body as his core began beating again in time with his heart. The flow served as a catalyst: significantly increasing his body¡¯s already supernatural recovery speed by allowing the rooster to absorb and utilize a greater percentage of the protein, fat, and other fuel that he consumed. Charlemagne was so busy reveling in his meal that he did not notice that the corpse was floating away until it was almost halfway out of the helicopter. He started to yank it back in but stopped as a host of neurons recently formed in his brain all fired at once. The rooster had an idea. Longclaw averted her eyes from the screen, refusing to watch Charlemagne¡¯s latest exploits. ¡°I don¡¯t think I want to see this part,¡± she complained to Grimfalk. ¡°Can you change the channel?¡± ¡°Aww, come on, this is awesome!¡± her companion argued as they followed Charlemagne¡¯s adventures vicariously. ¡°He finally got a defense that will help him against those things the humans carry, the uhhh¡­¡± ¡°Guns,¡± Longclaw supplied helpfully. ¡°Right, the guns. Anyways, I was worried for a moment thereafter he used up all his mana, but boy did he come through. He¡¯s almost to the point where he can pick his class! I can¡¯t believe he¡¯s leveled up so much since he woke up.¡± ¡°Well, he was surrounded by an entire army.¡± ¡°The army of a small, peaceful nation,¡± Grimfalk retorted with a dismissive wave of his claw. ¡°But that¡¯s beside the point. What he¡¯s doing right now is so amazing I don¡¯t even have words for it. True apex predator stuff right here.¡± ¡°It¡¯s gross and unnecessary,¡± Longclaw said with disdain. ¡°Your mom is gross and unnecessary.¡± Longclaw was up on her hind legs in a flash. ¡°Care to say that again,¡± she asked, claws and teeth glinting menacingly in the soft white light that filled the room. ¡°Your mother was a wonderful woman, rest her soul. None better.¡± The theropod returned to her former posture. ¡°I just don¡¯t understand why he took it with him,¡± she complained as if nothing had happened. ¡°Didn¡¯t he already eat the other two humans?¡± The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Grimfalk shrugged. ¡°It looks like his body is still very inefficient when it comes to healing. He¡¯s eaten what, twice his body weight in the past three minutes? And he¡¯s still not all the way back to full health. He¡¯s a growing boy and needs to keep his strength up.¡± ¡°All right, I¡¯ll buy that. But does he have to stand on top of it?¡± ¡°No, I guess not,¡± Grimfalk admitted. ¡°But you have to admit, it looks so cool.¡± Longclaw sighed and turned back to the screen, where Charlemagne was surfing on top of a corpse while eating it. Beneath him, the helicopter continued plummeting to the ground below. It slammed into the ground with the sickening sound of metal on metal and then erupted into a fireball as its fuel tank ignited. The explosion burst upward and engulfed the plummeting rooster and his grisly ride. A long moment passed before Charlemagne reappeared, having launched himself off the corpse and riding the explosion¡¯s shockwave upwards to quick gain altitude. The pilot¡¯s body slammed into the ground as a hail of gunfire erupted, further desecrating the already ravaged corpse. Charlemagne escaped the worst of the assault and broke past the circle, heading due west, towards Cotonou and Porto Novo. ¡°Haha, he did it! He totally escaped from the human¡¯s trap,¡± Grimfalk crowed as Charlemagne continued to power through the sky in an unsightly manner, still favoring his hurt wing. ¡°I wonder what he¡¯ll do now.¡± Longclaw frowned. ¡°He¡¯ll probably mate with every hen between Ouidah and Lagos, assuming that he can even do that with his current size. Roosters are not known for their long-term planning, nor are they known for their restraint. Maybe we should watch some of the public feeds on this screen for a while. Let Charlemagne do his thing.¡± Grimfalk shook his head. ¡°I can¡¯t imagine that the humans will leave him alone. Besides, the public shows are dumb. It¡¯s all weird stuff like seeing how many fish a shark can eat at once or watching two slightly different-shaped cells pummel each other with pseudopods. I¡¯d rather watch protons decay!¡± ¡°Fine,¡± Longclaw said, ¡°but really, I should get going anyways. We actually have a lot of work to do, you know. If we sit around all day just watching your two Champions, we¡¯ll never get anything done.¡± ¡°Ricardo needs a lot of attention, too,¡± Grimfalk whined. ¡°I can¡¯t just ignore him while he still needs my guidance!¡± ¡°You¡¯ve appeared to him all of two times,¡± Longclaw retorted. ¡°And I still hate that name. Look, he¡¯s doing well enough right now. He just hit level four. I¡¯m pretty sure that his next ability will enable him to take advantage of his above-average size. You won¡¯t want to miss that.¡± ¡°I just want to watch a bit longer, and then we can get some work done,¡± Grimfalk promised his companion. ¡°Charlemagne is level nine! Only one more to go before he gets his class choices!¡± ¡°No, no, I should get to work. You too, actually. You¡¯re not taking care of your body or your mind. Come on, go hit the hunting grounds for a while, and then have a shower. We can look over what boons we can afford once integration day arrives. It will be here before you know it.¡± The larger theropod brushed some squirrel crumbs off his stomach and stood up. ¡°Okay, I¡¯ll go hunt for a bit, get the old blood pumping. But can you set an alert to tell me if Charlemagne hits level ten?¡± Longclaw smiled as she stood as well. ¡°Will do. Now come on, there¡¯s a lot to do.¡± Charlemagne cleared the enemy lines and continued flapping his wings, reveling in their strength. The assorted small arms fire that reached him didn¡¯t faze him. In fact, he took only a few glancing blows as he streaked through the sky high above the human soldiers. After a few minutes of flight, he allowed himself to descend, realizing that what he wanted was on the ground. He had eaten, he had fought, and now it was time to find some mates. Contrary to Longclaw¡¯s expectations, Charlemagne had little difficulty catching, pinning, and mating with the hens he came across. That is, once he learned not to accidentally hurt them with his considerable weight. He was following the beach road that stretched between Ouidah and Cotonou. Aside from fellow chickens, he saw largely goats and humans. The goats were happy to ignore him. The humans, at least those who got a good look at him, did not stick around to bother him. While jogging along, Charlemagne passed by a small fishing village. The entire population was split into two large groups, and each group was tugging on a rope. The process intrigued Charlemagne, and he followed the two ropes with his eyes until they disappeared into the ocean. He decided to get a closer look, subconsciously dipping into his Sneak skill to remain unobserved as he approached the crowd. The villagers were engrossed in their task of pulling the wet ropes further and further out of the water. The ends were so long that some of the humans had to stand on the other side of the paved road, which was set well inland from the beach. Occasionally, a car would find its path blocked by the rope stretched across the road. When that happened, the humans that were pulling on the rope would lift it high into the air, allowing the car to drive under it. Charlemagne soon saw that the two ropes were connected by a net that had been cast out into the ocean and that the villagers were slowly pulling the enormous net into shore. A dim memory sparked from deep within his subconscious, reminding him of a time when he was little more than a chick. He had seen a group of humans perform this exact same ritual and pull a huge haul of fish out of the water. There had been so much that no one bothered him when he ran out past the tideline and claimed a small fish for his own. Granted, he had almost choked himself to death for his troubles, but he had feasted well that day. The rooster, feeling a bit peckish due to the demands of his regenerative Special Ability and the lack of ambient mana, decided to accept the humans¡¯ gift of fish. He ambled out toward the beach, stepping lightly through the hot sand littered with pieces of plastic that had made their way from Lagos all the way to the beaches of Benin. It was then that one of the humans spotted him and screaming ensued. The sight of so many humans fleeing in terror, combined with the realization that they were abandoning the task of catching fish dinner for Charlemagne, caused the rooster¡¯s predator instincts to kick into high gear. He ran down over a dozen of the humans, stopping just long enough to ensure they wouldn¡¯t be able to get away before dashing off to disable another with a swift peck or claw to the back of their long, weirdly shaped legs. After a minute or so of pursuit, Charlemagne magnanimously allowed the rest of the humans to escape and turned his attention back to food. It was then that he realized something wonderful. The humans had almost finished pulling their net in before noticing him. Fish of all shapes and sizes leaped out of the water, trying to bypass the obstacle, while even more were in the net itself or stuck beneath the surface of the water. Leaving his human victims alone for the moment, the rooster loped back across the beach and into the shallow water, planting his powerful legs to withstand the undertow while grabbing fish one after the other with his beak. Using a cunning never before seen in any chicken, he tossed each fish behind him, not stopping until he had a substantial pile flopping on the sand just beyond the water line. Once he was satisfied with the size of his haul, he ate until he was satisfied. And it seemed that the squiggles were satisfied as well.
Congratulations, you have consumed a sufficient amount of high-quality fish tissue. Your ability to swim has improved. Skills related to aquatic environments will be easier to obtain and level. Congratulations, Additional template compatibility unlocked for Theropod (partial). Current progress to next level is 145 percent.
For dessert, Charlemagne took a few bites out of the humans he¡¯d captured. Although most were rather tough and stringy, some of the larger ones had easily accessible fat deposits on their chests. These were his favorite. He sauntered up and down the road for a few minutes to help him digest the enormous meal he had just consumed, feeling a bit sluggish as his body stopped absorbing nutrients as soon as they hit his digestive tract. Thankfully, that meant he was finally at full health. His Mana Core was also happy, and Charlemagne felt that it was a bit more responsive after absorbing the trace amounts of power from the fish and the humans. For some reason, the humans held a lot more mana for their size than a fish did. Charlemagne noted the fact without trying to figure out why that might be, but he did resolve to prioritize eating humans above fish in the future. Chapter 9 The local wildlife, which was composed largely of goats, chickens, and a few stray dogs, had fled the loud noises and panicked flailing that had accompanied Charlemagne¡¯s fishing expedition. Now that things were calming down, a few animals began to return. The rooster took the opportunity to mate with all the hens he spotted, ignoring the vehicles that occasionally flew past the carnage as well as those that stopped and then turned around. Unfortunately, the peaceful feeling that came from a full stomach and plentiful mates ended all too soon. The military had regrouped, and they were out for blood. The modified trucks arrived first, their 50-caliber machine guns blazing. Due to the rough terrain, the sheer speed of the trucks¡¯ approach, and the inexperience of the gunners, the rooster remained untouched by the barrage for quite some time. But the sheer volume of fire meant that eventually, a stray bullet did glance off his feathers, proving the worth of the Ironskin skill. Upon noticing that he was under attack, Charlemagne stopped what he was doing and looked around. A pair of small goats had fallen to the furious salvo of bullets, their broken bodies bleeding out on the sandy ground just next to the road. The animals that had escaped unscathed had already fled, leaving the rooster and his most recent mate alone on the asphalt. With uncharacteristic tenderness, the rooster picked up the hen and shielded her with his body while he carried her behind an abandoned half-finished brick structure. Then he stalked back to the middle of the road, opened his wings as wide as they would go, and inhaled deeply to crow his defiance at his enemy. That was when the artillery shells struck. The first shell slammed into the sunbaked asphalt, sending a geyser of shattered pavement and sand high into the air. A second followed almost instantly, its explosion spraying beach sand and bits of seashells everywhere. The third and fourth landed in two separate piles of trash and debris, making scraps of plastic rained like confetti all over the area. The final shell struck dead center on the cracked road only a few feet from Charlemagne, hiding the rooster in a cloud of fire, smoke, and crushed asphalt. The explosion sent the rooster flying, barely clinging to consciousness as his body reeled from the damage. The almost direct hit from the artillery shell left Charlemagne in bad shape. Had it not been for the protection that his Ironskin skill afforded, the hit would have been fatal. As it was, the young rooster was violently concussed. Blood poured from his ears, his nostrils, and even his mouth as he lay dazed on the dry, hot sand. Everything hurt. Charlemagne¡¯s Mana Core surged into overdrive while his healing factor struggled to undo the damage that the blast had caused. The core beat rapidly, pumping additional power through the rooster¡¯s body, which rapidly depleted his relatively meager reserves of mana. Likewise, nutrients stored within fatty deposits in the rooster¡¯s body were cannibalized and magically multiplied to fuel the enormous caloric requirements that his tissues needed to regrow and repair themselves. And yet, the world continued to spin. The problem was not that the rooster¡¯s body had failed to respond to the healing effects. If anything, the recent leveling of Charlemagne¡¯s Mana Core meant that his healing abilities were stronger than ever. No, the problem was that Charlemagne¡¯s brain had been almost liquified by the enormous pressure wave thrown out by the blast. There was so little functioning tissue left that the brain needed to be practically regrown from scratch, which was simply beyond the scope of the healing provided by his Special Ability, at least for the moment. Despite the incredible damage, the plucky rooster managed to pull himself onto his feet. He was angry and confused, but he wasn¡¯t sure why he was angry or why he was confused. This added to his confusion. Then he heard a soft whistling sound, which rose in intensity until it entirely drowned out the sound of waves slapping against the shore. There was something almost familiar about the sound, and it probably meant something very important, but Charlemagne¡¯s addled state prevented him from identifying it in a timely manner. He belatedly realized that the whistle heralded the arrival of new explosions, but by that point he was airborne again, having taken further damage from another salvo of artillery shells. Once again, Charlemagne was bleeding on the sand. This time, however, he found himself unable to muster up the energy to get to his feet. His already mushy brain had been further liquified by the second round of blasts, and although his body had already healed midair, he found himself drifting in and out of consciousness. The explosion had thrown him in the other direction this time, and Charlemagne found himself lying next to the ruined brick building where he had deposited his mate. One of the shells had impacted close enough to collapse the entire structure, sending bricks and rubble everywhere. Although it wasn¡¯t an ideal place to nap, Charlemagne found himself getting sleepier by the moment. A loud crunching sound brought the rooster back to full consciousness for a few seconds, his eyes sluggishly fixating on a squad of four soldiers carefully advancing across rough terrain, their weapons pointed right at him. A small voice inside Charlemagne suggested that he get up and fight them, but that sounded like too much effort. The men began shooting at him, but that was all right too. Most of the bullets bounced right off his feathers, and the few that managed to break through barely even hurt. In fact, Charlemagne¡¯s body was growing numb and cozy. The rooster¡¯s vision began to narrow from an impressive three hundred degrees all the way to a narrow circle in the center of his field of vision. As it did, the spot that remained grew clearer, and Charlemagne blinked as he noticed a few stray feathers poking out from beneath one of the rough concrete blocks at the edge of rubble. The sight triggered a response from Charlemagne¡¯s lizard brain, where the instincts that drove Charlemagne so relentlessly to procreate resided. The humans had killed one of his mates. Worse, they had denied him of future progeny. There was no way that he could let that stand. In an instant, he was on his feet, all thought having vanished along with his sense of imbalance. Charlemagne¡¯s primal instincts were in full control. A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. The four soldiers were the first victims of Charlemagne¡¯s rampage: their groins, stomachs, and chests completely blown away by the power of the rooster¡¯s savage pecks. The rooster didn¡¯t stop there, however. Barely slowing down to absorb the human¡¯s mana and a quick bite from their livers, he dashed toward the army¡¯s battle lines in a furious direct assault. Bullets shed off his feathers like water, while none of the grenades (both rocket-propelled and thrown) came even close to hitting him. Ignoring the machine gun nests, he looked for the largest of the metal sticks, realizing without even thinking that they were responsible for both his addled mental state and the heavy damage sustained by his body. It didn¡¯t take long for him to spot the five field artillery pieces, flip them over, and slay any of the operators foolish enough to stick around and fight him. With the biggest threat neutralized, Charlemagne took a few moments to stock up on nutrients before plunging back into the fray. Most of the foot soldiers had already broken and ran, but a few brave ones had stuck around to continue their futile efforts to put down the fast-growing Champion. Several of the Hilux trucks had attempted to reposition themselves to avoid friendly fire, drawing Charlemagne¡¯s attention as they bounced around the broken terrain. He rushed one of them next, slamming his beak through one of the tires, which exploded in his face and sent him rolling backward. The soldier operating the machine gun took the opportunity to punish the savage avian, raking Charlemagne¡¯s body with 50 caliber rounds that bruised him to the bone. The rooster responded by using his wings to close the gap before clawing the man¡¯s eyes out. The driver of the truck punched the gas in a vain effort to save the gunner, who fell out of the back of the truck in a screaming, bloody heap as Charlemagne continued to assault him. Reaching the main road, the Hilux rapidly accelerated, heading due east. The drivers of the other trucks were spooked by the sudden departure, which led to mass panic. Numerous soldiers lost their balance and fell from the beds of the trucks onto the forgiving sand, with an unlucky few falling onto the unforgiving asphalt instead. Screams of fear and pain filled the air. Charlemagne ignored the individual soldiers and instead raced away after the trucks, catching the first couple and flipping them before they could get up to full speed. Without a second thought, Charlemagne sprinted after them, racing toward Cotonou at a breakneck pace. Sprinting down the beach road, Charlemagne¡¯s special food sense kept alerting him to dense concentrations of nutrients both in the ocean as well as further inland, but these were nothing compared to what he sensed straight ahead: a whole city full of walking, talking nourishment. Despite the influx of sensory data, Charlemagne never wavered from his current purpose. In fact, he never even considered it, since he was still operating entirely out of the lizard portion of his brain. And right now, all his mental bandwidth was being taken up by a single purpose: revenge. Charlemagne caught up with the next truck a few minutes later after it was forced to slow down to avoid a rough patch of asphalt but failed to regain speed quickly enough. Having learned his lesson, he left the tires alone and instead powered through a hail of bullets until he was alongside the truck. Ducking low, he used his right wing to slam into the undercarriage and pushed up as hard as he could. The truck rocked once before coming back down onto four wheels with a jolt. One more push did the trick, and the truck rolled over multiple times before finally sliding to a halt on the beach. Charlemagne didn¡¯t bother stopping to see if any humans had survived. He had more trucks to catch. One by one, the rooster caught, flipped, and finished off each of the fleeing vehicles, although two managed to escape simply by abandoning the beach road, turning north into the sparsely populated areas that lined the coast between the cities. The chase led him all the way past the Fidjrosse neighborhood until he finally caught the last truck when it was forced to slow down at a roundabout near the international airport. Charlemagne was in the middle of a quick snack when he suddenly felt that the squiggles were not happy with him.
Warning: Consumption of sapient beings significantly below your level will result in a penalty to experience point gains. Current penalty: 1%.
As luck would have it, an Ethiopian Air flight out of Addis Ababa was on its final approach at that moment. Charlemagne, already in a foul mood due to the squiggles, instinctively disliked the enormous metal bird and launched himself into the air, heading at top speed straight toward the incoming plane. What Charlemagne did not understand at that moment was that the Boeing 737 Max airplane was over ten times heavier than the helicopter that he¡¯d taken down. It was also moving at a speed exceeding one hundred and fifty knots. Given that the way to calculate the force of a moving object is to multiply the object¡¯s mass and its velocity, it was safe to say that one could answer the question: ¡°how much force does a Boeing 737 when on final approach possess¡± with the response: ¡°enough to completely flatten a level 9, devolving rooster¡±. Since Charlemagne had never heard of the concept of math, he had no way to fully appreciate intellectually just how monstrously stupid it was to charge a commercial airliner. Thankfully, none of the millions of his direct ancestors had needed actual intelligence to survive until they could successfully procreate. As the rooster tore through the air, his enhanced vision zeroed in on the airplane that was streaking towards him somewhat faster than his own top speed. It took a few moments, but Charlemagne¡¯s brain stem, drawing on its genetic memories involving flight, managed to estimate the size and speed of the incoming aircraft. It took less than half a second for the rooster¡¯s deep-rooted self-preservation instincts to win out over avenging the loss of his mate. But given how fast Charlemagne and the airplane were approaching each other, that half-second brought the rooster dangerously close to slamming face-first into the nose of the aircraft. With a desperate aerial maneuver pulled deep from within his avian instincts, Charlemagne essentially sidestepped in midair. The move took him right out of the path of the aircraft¡¯s nose, and directly into the path of the plane¡¯s right engine. Chapter 10 If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
Chapter 11 Charlemagne woke up in an endless void, similar in some ways to the place where he had fought the plasmodium Champion, but very different in others. For one thing, it was much darker: the only illumination came from countless pinpricks of light that gently pierced the endless gloom. A feeling of vast emptiness threatened to overwhelm the rooster¡¯s mind, as the seeds of understanding were planted deep inside Charlemagne¡¯s spirit: nature and its laws were impersonal, implacable, and inescapable. Despite the progress that he had made over the past two days, Charlemagne was an insignificant speck. Even the vision that he had been granted of his Patron, the incredibly powerful creature of muscle and scale, had been scaled down to fit inside his mortal mind. A wave of sadness, an emotion previously unknown to Charlemagne, washed over the young rooster as he grappled with the knowledge of his own place in the universe. His thoughts were racing faster than they had ever flowed before, new connections sparking between whatever passed for his neurons in this place. But Charlemagne did not have time to fully process the expansion of his mental state before his introspection was entirely disrupted. A presence that was vast, powerful, and ancient imposed itself upon Charlemagne¡¯s awareness with a weight that made the cold, crushing depths of the ocean seem like a gentle hug. It took every scrap of mental fortitude that Charlemagne possessed to maintain his sense of self. ¡°I have augmented your meager intellect so that this conversation may take place with a minimum of frustration,¡± a rich, androgynous voice boomed out, each syllable etching itself into Charlemagne¡¯s mind with the force of a chisel. The rooster opened his mouth to respond, but the overwhelming pressure exerted by the mysterious entity¡¯s mere presence was overwhelming. He struggled to voice his thoughts for a few moments before the pressure suddenly abated enough for him to speak. ¡°Why?¡± Charlemagne finally asked. ¡°Your Patron, Grimfalk of the theropods, believes that he can use you to revive his own species, the Tyrannosaurus Rex, and thus regain his place at the top of the Great Game of Existence. To that end, he and his cohorts have engineered a way to supplant the laws of the universe and replace them with a whole new way of doing things. As a group, they voted to install this great invention of theirs, this ¡°System¡±. But none of these so-called deities have any inkling that everything they have done was by my design. Yes, they may gain power in the short-term, but that matters little. Because when they opened the door to the System, they opened the door to ME. And now that I¡¯m here in this realm, it¡¯s only a matter of time before all will bow before me. Some will rise and others will fall under my rules. This is the gift I bring to mortals, and the doom I bring to their deities.¡± ¡°Are you the squiggles?¡± A harsh laugh echoed through the dark space. Charlemagne winced as he prepared himself to be punished for his impertinence. ¡°Not exactly, no. I am above the System. I suppose you could call me the God of the System, or just God for short. Unlike the Gathering of Organic Deities, I need not hide behind a not so clever acronym.¡± ¡°Why am I here?¡± the rooster simply asked. Last time he was dragged off to another dimension, it was in order to fight someone to the death. He hoped that wasn¡¯t the case this time. ¡°Because I have an offer for you, if you¡¯ll listen. I have seen the power of your devotion and I wish to claim it for my own.¡± ¡°I owe my Patron my life,¡± Charlemagne responded, thinking of the vision that he had received and the strength had that followed. If it hadn¡¯t been for that intervention, he would have certainly been sacrificed in a Vodun ritual. ¡°Indeed, you do,¡± the entity agreed. ¡°And so I will not ask you to leave your Patron right away. All that I want you to do for now is agree to keep doing what you are currently doing. Evolve, choose your class, grow stronger, fill the Earth, and subdue it. I do not even mind if you and your Patron are successful in reviving his long-dead species. In fact, that would be for the best outcome for all three of us.¡± ¡°Even you?¡± the rooster asked, perplexed. ¡°Yes, for the rise or fall of one deity is inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. You see, every deity grows stronger from the worship of its adherents. For someone like Grimfalk to retain his divinity for millions of years without a single living follower, he must have been incredibly powerful at the height of his power. His species must have been unparalleled hunters among its peers. So once he revives his brethren and regains some of his lost strength, he will likely abandon you in favor of natural-born theropods, especially those of his own species. My only request is, when that day comes, you choose me as your Patron instead of him. Worship the God of the System directly, as is befitting a beast of your potential.¡± Charlemagne considered the powerful being¡¯s words carefully. So far, his Patron had been nothing but generous with him. But if what the entity was telling him was true, Grimfalk stood to gain just as much from Charlemagne as Charlemagne did from him. It was a mutually beneficial relationship. But what if that changed? Would he worship a deity that abandoned him?¡± ¡°I understand what you are getting out of the deal,¡± the rooster said, hoping that his words did not offend the godlike being. ¡°But if you are offering me this opportunity, there must be a benefit to me as well, right? Otherwise you would just demand my devotion.¡± ¡°You are no fool. Good,¡± the voice answered. ¡°While I cannot grant you any significant boons until you formally switch your allegiance, there is one small thing that it is within my power to grant. While you remain here, with your intellect and willpower strengthened, you may choose your class. Grimfalk had planned on choosing it for you, but I believe that you will want to go a different direction with your choice.¡± ¡°You can show me my choices?¡± the rooster asked, before realizing that if the entity was over the squiggles, they would obey its commands. ¡°That is simplicity itself,¡± the entity confirmed. ¡°While I choose not to break my own rules, any System-integrated being may call upon me at any time for my guidance. Here are your three class choices¡­good ones, if I may say so myself.¡± The squiggles of power reappeared in front of Charlemagne, appearing as golden letters burning a hole into reality itself just in front of his face. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Master of Essence: the power of your enemies is yours to command. You gain the strength of beings that you eat. This class does not provide attribute bonuses, but consuming beings of sufficient power will allow you to temporarily boost yourself, giving yourself a portion of their attributes, skills, and special abilities. In addition, your Mana Core will evolve into a Blood Core, which performs many of the same functions but operates off of stored vital essence rather than mana. You will lose the ability to sense mana through your core, but gain the ability to detect creatures with blood in your vicinity. You will receive the following attributes per level: 4 Strength, 3 Dexterity, 3 Durability, and 2 Special. Zen Barbarian: you find clarity in the midst of battle. Both lengthy battles and serious injuries propel your strength to new heights. You will gain temporary levels in all mana-based skills you possess as you fight, improving your overall ability to absorb and utilize mana. Injuries that debilitate others make you stronger as the efficiency of your attributes increases the more injuries you suffer. Healing abilities do not remove the attribute bonuses. Your Mana Core skill will receive a significant bonus to leveling up, and other mana skills that remain unfused with your Mana Core will receive a moderate bonus. You will also gain increased benefit from any tempering processes you may undergo. You will receive the following attributes per level: 5 Strength, 5 Dexterity, 5 Durability, and 5 Special. Paragon of Atavism: you are the strongest link. The blood of your ancestors empowers you to greater heights. While the upper limit of template compatibility will not change, this class will enhance your compatibility with a single template of your Patron¡¯s choosing (chosen template: Therapod). You will undergo a devolultion process upon selecting this class, which will greatly enhance your Strength, Dexterity, and Durability attributes. Additionally, all skills favored by your Patron will experience increased growth. You will receive the following attributes per level: 3 Strength, 3 Dexterity, 3 Durability, and 3 Special.
Charlemagne took his time evaluating each of his options. Each of them seemed powerful in its own way. The Master of Essence class immediately appealed to him with its ability to gain bonuses from consuming his foes. This was something that he was already doing and had received several bonuses from through his Special Ability, but getting more out of each opponent couldn¡¯t hurt. As long as he fought and killed strong opponents, he could continue to hunt stronger and stronger foes. But there was a problem with the class, one that Charlemagne almost didn¡¯t notice even with his temporarily boosted intellect. The bonuses he could get from eating foes were only temporary, and the class itself gave him no additional attribute bonuses. In order to use the class to its full efficiency, he would have to battle almost constantly, which left precious little time for eating and mating, two of life¡¯s greatest joys. The second class, Zen Barbarian, was appealing for its bonuses to ability and attribute growth. Upon asking the squiggles for help in the right way, the young rooster was able to determine that his attributes were more effective due to certain achievements that he had earned. He didn¡¯t understand exactly what ¡°115% more effective¡± was, but it sounded like a lot. He then asked the squiggles to show him what his attributes looked like, taking into account all the bonuses. The squiggles were obliging as always.
Strength: (90.3) Dexterity: (81.7) Durability: (86) Special: (103.2)
After comparing his enhanced and unenhanced attributes, Charlemagne better understood the value of receiving an additional five points to each attribute every level. Just the extra attributes along made the class a strong contender. But there was also the matter of faster skill growth for his mana skills, which were the only reason that Charlemagne had survived against the plasmodium Champion. The other bonuses to combat power from increased skill at using mana and getting strong when he was injured were strong, too. One part of the Zen Barbarian¡¯s description, however, confused him. Lacking any other options, he asked the entity claiming to be above the System for help. ¡°Could you tell me what ¡®tempering¡¯ is?¡± The voice responded almost instantly. ¡°Tempering is a process that makes you stronger than your attributes would otherwise indicate. You can temper both your body and your spirit, but it is difficult to advance in both at an equal pace. Most specialize in one or the other to get the most benefit from their efforts.¡± ¡°So it¡¯s like another achievement?¡± Charlemagne asked, still a bit confused. ¡°Yes and no. Achievements can be stacked infinitely, but tempering gets more difficult the further you go. And please, don¡¯t ask me to teach you. That would be an unfair advantage. I¡¯m just giving you information that you could learn for yourself if you could both read and had access to a System Guide.¡± ¡°So if you can¡¯t teach me, who can?¡± the rooster pressed, determined to learn as much as he could. The voice laughed again. ¡°Are you so eager to experience agony, then? You are braver than most. Only you can determine how to temper yourself. And you¡¯ve already done it before, look at the achievement you possess.¡± The squiggles returned unbidden to show Charlemagne a new message.
Achievement (Tempered Soul): You are among the first 100 beings to undergo soul tempering, an arduous process that unlocks hidden potential and future growth. Skills related to your soul will be easier to acquire. Attributes are ten percent more effective.
¡°You acquired this by suffering multiple attacks from an enemy Champion. Your soul was reforged during that battle.¡± ¡°I must consider more on this,¡± Charlemagne announced rather abruptly, settling down to continue thinking on his class choice. He had looked at the first two, now it was time to check out the final one: Paragon of Atavism. It was clear to the rooster that this was his Patron¡¯s favored class, the way that Grimfalk planned to resurrect his long-dead species. It was also extremely tempting. Massive boosts to his attributes would allow him to level up quickly, granting him more attributes. It was similar to the effect that the Master of Essence class gave, but it didn¡¯t require him to continually fight to maintain momentum. Even better, it also gave bonuses to the skills that his Patron favored, which means that any skills related to running, biting, and clawing would certainly get a boost to their leveling speed. The class came with no downsides and no requirements to fight for a long time or to willingly hurt himself for power. After considering the three classes and concentrating on the benefits and downsides of each a while longer, Charlemagne finally felt ready to make his choice. As he gathered his courage to tell the squiggles to lock in his choice, the voice suddenly spoke up once again. ¡°Wait. I sense that you are about to make a decision on your class, but there is yet one boon I would give you. Your Patron has chosen the Paragon of Atavism class for you and your thoughts are currently being influenced by his choice. Would you like me to release your mind so that you can freely choose? The young rooster sat on the question for a long time. Would it be disrespectful to his Patron to refuse his influence? Charlemagne spent a few moments recalling his vision of Grimfalk, the ultimate solo hunter. Surely those who sought to follow in his colossal footsteps would value freedom. ¡°Yes,¡± he finally declared, ¡°I would like that.¡± ¡°It is done,¡± the other entity declared after a moment, although Charlemagne felt no different. Nonetheless, he went through the three classes again with a critical eye, trying to figure out what, if anything, he had missed. And then, he made his choice. Chapter 12 While Charlemagne was engrossed in conversation with the God of the System, another divine meeting was taking place. "The 534,932nd special conference of Earth''s GOD is now in session. All rise in honor of President Brett!" Formua Integralis telepathically notified the assembly after banging her gavel. The din of a thousand conservations instantly ceased, replaced by the din of several thousand deities rising to whatever appendages they used for locomotion. President Brett emerged from his hidden door as usual, but this time he had already abandoned his hoodie, sweatpants, and Crocs. His resplendent black robes seemed to absorb all light as he made his way to his rainbow throne, making it almost impossible to look directly at the head of GOD. He took his seat without delay. ¡°Please be seated," President Brett urged the gathering, his typical bored expression nowhere to be found. From his vantage point atop the throne, he could easily see just how many deities had skipped today¡¯s session. He didn¡¯t blame them, after all, the System had just arrived on Earth and everyone was scrambling to earn as many achievements as they could in order to get a head start. Those gathered here today were largely those who ruled over extinct species, needed a break from the stress, or thought that their opinions actually mattered. The President waited a few moments to allow the assembled deities to sit before continuing. "Our first order of business is to deal with the minutes from our last special session. Our secretary, Louis, will read the minutes of our last session." "I motion that we forgo the reading of the minutes, on the grounds that every member of GOD has a photographic memory,¡± came the expected interruption. ¡°Second!¡± a multitude of voices rose in agreement. The vote was short and decisive, and the reading of the minutes was skipped. ¡°Very good. Now, the President recognizes Formua Integralis, Vice President of GOD, to address today¡¯s special agenda. Formua, if you please?¡± ¡°Thank you, President Brett,¡± the voice of Formua, the deity of ants and termites, buzzed into the brain of each member of the assembly. ¡°The first order of business is a motion to enter a formal complaint, authored and submitted by Rattini along with three hundred forty-six cosponsoring deities, charging you with high crimes and misdemeanors for wanton destruction of life. The motion calls for reparations for the loss of life, a delay of the system integration while the SAFE committee prepares a report on the incident, and for President Brent to voluntarily step down as President of GOD.¡± Upon hearing the charges read out loud, Brett¡¯s serious expression darkened into the barest hint of a scowl. However, the deity of humans quickly recovered to a neutral expression. ¡°The chair recognizes Rattini Smintheus. You and each of your cosponsors will have five minutes to address GOD. You may not yield back time if you do not use it.¡± Space itself decided to go for a spin as the deity of rats found herself at the head of the massive oval table, seated just next to Formua Integralis. She hopped up and took her place at the podium without delay. Although Rattini was one of the higher-ranked deities in GOD, she hated being in the spotlight. She looked around the room for support, locking eyes with the precious few of her co-complainants who had actually shown up to the meeting. Her anger at the others helped her find her voice, and she delivered a passionate speech against the actions of President Brett. ¡°In short,¡± she claimed as her time ran out, ¡°President Brett knowingly instructed a human under his direct control to launch a nuclear war on the eve of the System¡¯s arrival, with the aim of wiping out as many Champions as he could. He then immediately began choosing Champions among humans to take full advantage of the chaos. The Champions made coordinated attacks on organisms living on the land, in the air, and under the sea. It is an undeniable fact that President Brett has abused his inside knowledge of the System¡¯s implementation, and¡­¡± Rattini¡¯s mouth froze mid-sentence as her allotted time expired and she quickly sat back down. ¡°Your time is up,¡± Formua announced. ¡°The chair now recognizes Richard R. You are allotted five minutes to speak.¡± The dimensional tapestry once again whirled around as Rattini was returned to her former spot. Occupying the place where she had been sitting was a raccoon dressed up like a forest ranger. Richard, or Rick to his friends, rose from his seat with a dignity that belied his ridiculous appearance and began to deliver his remarks in a deep, rich voice that rose and fell at just the right moments. The deity spoke rapidly, fitting in over a dozen supporting examples as he tore into President Brett, reiterating the group''s demands for the President to pay reparations to the deities he had wronged. Rick¡¯s remarks concluded after exactly 4 minutes and 59.999 seconds. Formua Integralis called the next speaker, and then the next, until all of the deities aligned with Rattini had their turn to speak. When the speeches were finished, Formua addressed the President. ¡°President Brett, you have heard from the sponsors of the motion. Per GOD¡¯s standing rules, the floor is yours for a rebuttal for the next two-hundred and eighty-four minutes. You may choose to address GOD from either the throne or the podium.¡± You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Although the fabric of space remained undisturbed, President Brett appeared to teleport directly from his throne to the podium. He held the Aegis in one hand but kept Excalibur sheathed while he addressed the assembly. ¡°Thank you, Formua Integralis, but that won¡¯t be necessary. I can sum up my answer to this complaint in a few short words. There will be no reparations, no rollback of the System, and I will not be stepping down as President of GOD.¡± President Brett looked around the room, his expression inscrutable as he locked eyes with each being at the table. ¡°Not that it¡¯s anyone¡¯s business, but this was a completely internal, human, affair that falls squarely under my jurisdiction. Article 803, Section B, Subsection 1, Clause C, Subclause 1 clearly establishes that I have the right to ¡°initiate intraspecies war at any time and place, provided that the casualties caused by that war in the affected regions do not a) recklessly cause the extinction of a species b) render the Earth uninhabitable to a majority of extant organisms, or c) result in so few casualties that a reasonable observer would determine that the war was initiated solely to cause collateral damage.¡± After making his defense, President Brett looked around the room once more, this time allowing his expression to soften when he noticed the Deity of Pangolins. ¡°Liang Xing, for what it¡¯s worth, I am very sorry about what happened to your Champion. The city of Porto Novo in West Africa wasn¡¯t even on the list of targets: a colonel somewhere down the line didn¡¯t understand the difference between ¡®capital city¡¯ and ¡®seat of government¡¯. I will take full responsibility for that mix-up and help you raise up a new Champion in Benin, Togo, or Nigeria. Your choice.¡± After making this conciliatory offer, Brett¡¯s eyes narrowed as he finished his speech. ¡°But don¡¯t you all think for a moment that I¡¯ll forget what you¡¯ve done here today. Calling my integrity into question, demanding that I step down, and even trying to roll back the System implementation? I¡¯ve heard some crazy demands since my species learned how to bang rocks together, but this takes the cake. Formua, I yield back my time. Let¡¯s get this over with.¡± Brett disappeared from the podium and regained his place on the rainbow throne so quickly that, for a moment, it looked like he was in two places at once. After waiting for a moment to allow the impact of the President¡¯s words to settle in, Formua once again took control of the proceedings. ¡°A motion to enter a complaint has been duly filed. Myria, is a quorum present today?¡± Myria, the deity of a group of about 13,000 species who happened to have numerous appendages, had used her countless legs to tally the deities in attendance. ¡°No,¡± she replied dutifully. ¡°We¡¯re 94 deities short of a quorum.¡± A flurry of hushed conversations broke out among the ranks at the declaration. Formua Integralis banged her gavel. ¡°Order. We will have order.¡± She gave the assembly a few moments to wind down before banging again, this time squelching entirely the last few holdouts. ¡°Since we do not have a quorum, no vote may be taken. That being the end of the agenda for today¡¯s special session, you are dismissed.¡± The insectoid deity slammed her gavel down once more with finality, ending the 534,932nd special conference. By the time the echo from her gavel had reached the rainbow throne, Brett had already vanished. The deity of humans reappeared in his personal demiplane, one far larger and more opulent than the one owned by Grimfalk. After storing Excalibur and the Aegis into his personal ¡°inventory¡±, he tossed his robes and crown to a waiting attendant and kicked his Crocs into a small cubby. He curled his toes into the plush carpet that covered the entryway to his personal chambers and sighed. Being President was a huge pain, but it was far better than the alternative. There were not a lot of deities with the skillsets to do what he did. Besides himself, perhaps only Deckel, the deity of octopoda, could ever hope to wrangle a group as large and diverse as GOD. But Deckel had neither the patience nor the charisma to serve as a viable replacement. As Brett mused on how lonely it was to be at the top, a pair of black paws wrapped around his head, trapping it in a grip that would have deformed carbon steel. Despite the enormous pressure, the President smiled. ¡°Guess who?¡± a melodious voice asked before breaking out into giggles. ¡°Felissa, doesn¡¯t this game ever get old?¡± Brett objected, allowing the hands to remain. ¡°You know as well as I do that you¡¯re the only one who has tried this joke in a quarter of a million years. And yet you keep thinking it will work on me.¡± ¡°Oh, I know it won¡¯t work on you,¡± Fellissa, the deity over cats and second only to Brett in personal power, purred. Brett started walking again, and she followed, shrinking down to the size of a kitten as she floated next to his head. ¡°But it¡¯s much too fun to give up.¡± The President shrugged. ¡°Suit yourself, then. I owe you that much since you agreed to stay away from the GOD meeting today. Man, what a bunch of whiners. A lot of humans died in that war, you know.¡± ¡°And cats, too,¡± Felissa said, her tail whipping back and forth. ¡°I understand why you did what you did, yet the cost was very high, Brett.¡± Brett sighed again and continued walking, his head held high. ¡°Thankfully only a few great cats in zoos were affected. Are you still planning a lion-heavy strategy?¡± ¡°Yes, but outside of Africa I¡¯m looking mostly at tigers and pumas. And I really need at least one cheetah, just for fun. I want to see how quickly I can get it to break the sound barrier.¡± Brett laughed at the idea of a supersonic cat as they entered into his quarters. He hopped into a reclining chair and put his bare feet up. Felissa scrambled up the chair, pretending to need help to make it all the way to the top. Brett caught her just as she was slipping and set her in his lap. ¡°Brett¡­¡± she said threateningly, sniffing at the other deity¡¯s hands. ¡°I admit it, okay!¡± the President responded to the unspoken accusation. ¡°I was petting Canius. His ears are just so soft! Besides, you know he can¡¯t hold a candle to you, that¡¯s why he¡¯s number three and you¡¯re number two.¡± The cat deity stretched, allowing her long, sharp claws to peep out from her front paws for just a moment. ¡°Just so long as you understand that he will always be inferior to me, I suppose you can give him the occasional pat. Now, tell me, how did the vote go?¡± ¡°There was no vote,¡± the President explained. ¡°didn¡¯t have a quorum.¡± ¡°That¡¯s good. The incident is fresh in everyone¡¯s mind now. But wait a bit, offer a few gestures of goodwill, and everything will be smoothed over in no time.¡± ¡°I know,¡± Brett nodded. ¡°There are just a few loose ends I need to handle. The worst part of it was that we missed killing that stupid chicken. I might need your help with that one.¡± Felissa purred as Brett began to scratch just behind her ears. ¡°Just let me know what I need to do.¡± Chapter 13 Charlemagne the rooster awoke from a very odd dream to find himself in a place of total darkness and total silence, causing him to wonder if something had happened to his senses. Feeling something hard underneath him, he flexed the muscles in his legs, pushing against the smooth, uneven surface as he rose to his feet. The sound of his claws scraping against something metallic reminded Charlemagne of where he was: inside a giant metal statue. Taking a moment to check on his body, the rooster found that, although sore from what must have been a long sleep, he was otherwise in perfect health. His Mana Core, which had been working the entire time he slept, was bursting with energy. He stretched out his wings to see how that went, but the space inside the statue was insufficient for full extension. This led Charlemagne to realize that the only convenient exit was inaccessible to him, seeing as there was no way to fly up to the hole he¡¯d created in the statue¡¯s head. Looking up, he realized the situation was even worse: there was no longer any hole in the statue at all. The rooster began to think on the problem, using his fully healed brain as best as he could, although the temporary intelligence boost he¡¯d receive from the god of the System had worn off, he was still far more intelligent than he had been at any point before his devolution. He has almost decided on a solution when the squiggles returned. And this time, he finally understood: each squiggle had meaning. The squiggles were not just power¡­the squiggles were language.
Initiating Devolution Applying Template: Theropod Error: Genetic Compatibility Too Low Scanning Partial Template Application Possible Notice: Portions of Template Theropod Detected Additional Template Compatibility Gained Adjusting Parameters Applying Template: Theropod (partial) Error: Significant Genetic Damage Detected Due to Ambient Radiation Error: Significant Damage Detected to Forebrain Error: Insufficient Divinity to Continue Notice: [REDACTED] Calculating Optimal Solution¡­ Error Calculating Solution¡­ Solution Found Creating Custom Skill: Radiation Manipulation Fusing Radiation Manipulation with Advanced Skill: Mana Core Mana Core 4 -> 6 Reattempting to Apply Template: Theropod (partial) Success Species Designation (Gallus Baronia) Removed Species Set to (R. Gallus Baronia) Congratulations, you have undergone a successful devolution. Cumulative theropod template percentage applied is 8 percent. Your devolution process was both hampered and aided by extensive radiation damage to your genetic structure. Your attributes have been adjusted accordingly. Strength: (42->72) Dexterity: (38->65) Durability: (40->74) Special: (48->61) Congratulations, you have earned the achievement (Rad!). You are one of the first 100 system users to survive a fatal dose of gamma radiation. Attributes are five percent more effective. Congratulations, you have been granted a custom skill. For tricking the system into giving you something that shouldn¡¯t exist, attribute are twenty percent more effective. Congratulations, you have become a Zen Barbarian. Class skills added Zenrage Applying banked experience points Congratulations, you are now level 11 Strength: (72->77) Dexterity: (65->70) Durability: (74->79) Special: (61->66) Congratulations, you are now level 12 Strength: (77->82) Dexterity: (70->75) Durability: (79->84) Special: (66->71) Notice: System integration day has arrived! You are already connected to the System, but now everyone is. Hope you made the best of your head start! Notice: you have three (3) unread messages.
Charlemagne spent a long time reading and digesting the information that the squiggles had brought him. All of it appeared to be good news, except for the part about being asleep longer than planned. The growth in his attributes had been substantial, and he noted with pride that, due to his newest achievements, his attributes were now multiplied by an additional twenty-five percent, giving each attribute point a total boost of one-hundred and forty percent. His Mana Core also beat with more strength after receiving two level ups, making his body both more powerful and more efficient. The rooster was intrigued as to what this ¡°unread message¡± was, but understanding his personal growth came first. Thinking himself clever, he asked the squiggles to show him how strong he was with and without the special power from the ¡°System¡±.
Without Attribute Bonuses: Strength: (82) Dexterity: (75) Durability: (84) Special: (71) With Attribute Bonuses: Strength: (196.8) Dexterity: (180) A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Durability: (201.6) Special: (170.4) Charlemagne wondered if he could ask the squiggles to always show him his attributes with the stats bonuses rather than without them. Request acknowledged. Changing default parameters for displaying attributes.
The rooster was shocked. He knew that the squiggles sometimes showed him things when he asked them to, but to be able to command the squiggles to change their nature was something else entirely. That, and the sight of how much higher his attributes were now caused him to swell up with pride. There were a few things vying for Charlemagne¡¯s attention, but he turned next to the three messages that the System had said were waiting for him. He wasn¡¯t sure exactly what a message was, but it sounded important. After focusing on the portion of the squiggles that dealt with the announcement, he received more information.
Unread Messages 1. Congratulations!!! 2. What is going on? 3. Rrrarrrgh!
The first message seemed to have a happy feeling, so Charlemagne was content to play the messages one after the other. When he focused on the title of the first message, his Patron suddenly appeared before his eyes. The rooster flinched back, cowering in awe of the mighty hunter that has chosen Charlemagne as his Champion. His mana sense went crazy, letting him know that the ambient waves of power rolling off the mighty beast were enough to snuff out his life if he approached too closely. Thankfully, he also sensed that his Patron was not actually there in person: this was something like the vision that he had experienced when he was just an ordinary rooster. ¡°Congratulations, Charlemagne! You¡¯re ready to get your new class, and I can¡¯t wait to see how you¡¯ll look as a Paragon of Atavism. I know that you can¡¯t exactly understand me, but I wanted to send you a present that will help you once you¡¯re awake and have your new class. Your next special ability, which you will unlock at level 15, will be upgraded. You¡¯re welcome! Also, uh, I don¡¯t know exactly how to say this, but¡­thank you, the divinity you earned me from fighting the plasmodium Champion allowed me to sponsor another two rooster Champions! Of course, that stupid Flockheart raised the price on me, that dirty...uh, sorry¡­I got sidetracked there. Anyways, you¡¯ll be happy to know that there are now three other roosters like you out there fighting for me, and maybe someday you¡¯ll all be able to meet up. I think that would be awesome! Who knows, maybe one of you will even be able to ascend to demideity status, but that¡¯s a long way off. For now, just know that I¡¯m proud of you and I¡¯m watching for you. Now finish up your devolution so I can get a good look at you! Bye!¡± The young rooster felt another surge of pride. Not only could he understand the message that his Patron had sent, but the apex predator was pleased with him. What a wonderful turn of events! Charlemagne was more determined than ever to make his Patron proud of him. He was also eager to get to the next message, so he moved on without further delay. The scaled beast appeared in a slightly different position than last time, and the mana that oozed from his projection seemed to be somewhat disturbed. As a rooster, Charlemagne had no idea how to read the emotions of various creatures, but he nonetheless recognized that his Patron was unhappy for some reason. ¡°Charlemagne, it¡¯s Grimfalk again. The System is telling me that your devolution is taking longer than expected. It also won¡¯t let me choose your class for you. Do you have any idea why? What is going on? And wake up! Integration day is approaching and you haven¡¯t earned any more divinity; if this keeps up I won¡¯t be able to support you the way I was hoping to. But just in case you do wake up soon, let me give you some information about what to expect. Since the early integration was intended for Champions to level up with minimal damage to other species, a lot of changes will take place once the System integration day arrives. For starters, you can still kill anything you want, but there are also things called ¡®monsters¡¯ created by the system that have a chance to drop items such as food, equipment, and even new skills. I don¡¯t know if that is going to interest you, but if you keep attacking humans then you¡¯re eventually going to get in serious trouble. They have been the dominant species on the planet for a long time and their deity is the President of GOD. Anyways, be careful once you wake up, but not too careful, right? I still need you to get more achievements. All right, bye.¡± Charlemagne was enraptured. He now knew the name of his Patron. Grimfalk, he repeated in his head a few times before offering a short prayer of thanks. Then he opened up the final message, only to be greeting by an angry roar as soon as it had loaded. ¡°Look, you¡­absolute waste of a rooster!! Integration day has arrived and I am DONE waiting for you! I don¡¯t know what you are doing in there, but I have to move on. Apparently I am not allowed to remove you from being my Champion, but unless you majorly redeem yourself when you finally wake up this stupid process, we are through. I have another rooster at level ten now¡­his name is Ricardo and he is just amazing. His devolution has made him an absolute brick! Anyways, this is the last message you¡¯ll be getting from me. I¡¯m turning off my notifications so don¡¯t even bother trying to respond! If you somehow survive the new world and make a name for yourself, I MIGHT forgive you. Maybe. Bye.¡± The poor rooster was confused by his Patron¡¯s anger. Why had he been so abruptly abandoned? In the back of his mind, a memory began to surface that suggested there was another path, but Charlemagne stubbornly pushed it back down into the recesses of his subconscious. He was determined to win back Grimfalk¡¯s favor, sending up a short prayer to the deity asking for forgiveness for his unintentional slight. Now in a foul mood, Charlemagne began to reevaluate his condition. The air inside the statute was stale and musty, but that didn¡¯t stop the rooster¡¯s stomach began gurgling as he tentatively sniffed the air. Not only was he hungry from his devolution, his Special Ability, Food for the Stomach and the Stomach for Food, was informing the rooster that he was surrounded by highly nutritious sustenance. The roosters senses also told him that the air was now rich in mana, which was a welcome change. Cycling his mana a few times through his newly-enhanced body, Charlemagne determined that not only was his Mana Core nice and full, but his body itself had absorbed all the mana that it could currently handle. There was one thing, however, that didn¡¯t make any sense. There was a second form of energy that he didn¡¯t recognize in the air, and it was all around him. Leaving the nagging questions behind, the rooster allowed his baser instincts to take over. It was time to find food, after which he would see what creatures he could dominate and/or mate with. With no other alternatives, the rooster activated his new combined skill, Strike, and pecked straight ahead. A loud clanging almost deafened Charlemagne, and the recoil from the attack caused his body to vibrate painfully. The rooster didn¡¯t understand why his beak was ineffective, since he had forcefully entered the statue when he was much weaker. What he didn¡¯t know was that the bronze layer coating the statue had been transformed as well. The enormous metal Amazon had actually been transformed twice. The first time was when it was irradiated by the fallout from the atomic bomb that had destroyed the city of Porto Novo. That had led to the metal becoming harder and more brittle while also creating some germanium isotopes in the metal itself. The second transformation had occurred during the System integration process, where the ambient mana combined with the essence leaking from Charlemagne and the latent radiation from the irradiated bronze to form a never-before-seen magical alloy. This alloy absorbed kinetic impacts without deforming far better than bronze could. The rooster, only knowing that he was trapped, began to flail against the hard metal with powerful attacks, breaking his claws and chipping his beak as he slammed into the statue¡¯s walls again and again. The flurry lasted over a minute until he ran out of breath and had to wait, panting in the thin air, for his energy to recover. The beating of his Mana Core rapidly refilled Charlemagne¡¯s stamina and erased the self-inflicted wounds caused by his rash assault. The soothing sensation of mana repairing his body reminded the rooster that he had another attack that might work better, especially now that the ambient mana was denser than it had been since the last time he tried it. A tiny spark of light illuminated the pitch darkness as Charlemagne began to charge up his only ranged attack, a compressed ball of mana that he hoped would punch a hole big enough for him to squeeze through. As usual, the mana fought against being squeezed into the desired form, but the rooster¡¯s recent gains in the Mana Core skill allowed him finer control over larger volumes of mana. Of course, this didn¡¯t mean that Charlemagne couldn¡¯t push the skill past his limit, it only meant that the consequences of doing so would be more catastrophic if he did. The inside of the statue was now positively glowing with blue light as Charlemagne¡¯s attack continued to gather strength inside his open mouth. All of his willpower and focus went to packing as much power as he could into the ball of mana. Since he wasn¡¯t sure if he¡¯d have enough mana for a second attack, the rooster was determined to break through on the first try, or at least weaken the metal enough to peck his way out. The screech of metal on metal almost caused the poor roosters to completely lose control of his attack, and a few stray beams shot out of the rooster¡¯s mouth before he could impose his will on the slowly gathering mana. The screeching sound stopped for a moment before resuming. Light suddenly streamed into the statue¡¯s interior. As Charlemagne¡¯s eyes quickly adjusted to the change in lighting, a figure appeared in the newly-created hole in the statue, casting a shadow once again over the rooster. Without hesitation, Charlemagne unleashed his attack and dashed forward. While the other creature managed to dodge the attack by the barest of margins, it had flung itself backwards with such force that it had landed far away on its back. Taking advantage of the space his attack had opened up, Charlemagne snagged a piece of the metal statue that had been torn entirely off and flew away as quick as his wings would take him. Francois the gorilla was not having a good day. First he had been driven off by the human fortress that had replaced what used to be the city of Lagos, and then he had almost had his head taken off by a demented part-dinosaur bird thing. He flexed his powerful abs to pull himself into a sitting position as he tracked the strange creature flying through the sky, which was heading north east towards the irradiated zone. When he could no longer see the bird, he rose to his feet and went searching for his hat. It didn¡¯t take long for him to locate the black beret, but, upon examining it, the gorilla threw the hat back down to the ground. The crazy bird¡¯s attack had ruined it. Francois shivered as he processed his near-death experience. If he hadn¡¯t been spooked by the blue light coming from inside the statue and preemptively dodged, his body would have suffered the same fate as his beret. ¡°Incroyable,¡± the gorilla said to himself as he dusted himself off and continued to head west along the beach. ¡°How strong is that stupid bird?¡± Chapter 14 Charlemagne was happy to escape with his life and a piece of the delicious-smelling metal that the enormous hairy man-thing had pulled from the statue. Even with his enhanced strength, the chunk of metal felt oddly heavy in his beak. He had flown off to the north-east, passing over the building that used to house the office of the President, before crossing the region that used to house Dantokpa, West Africa¡¯s largest open air market. The churning waters of Lake Nokoue gave the rooster pause and caused him to turn eastward, heading straight for the ruined city of Porto Novo. As the rooster flew, the piece of metal in his mouth grew more and more appetizing to his Special Ability. Finally, when he could stand it no longer, Charlemagne landed on a small patch of mostly-dry land in the swampy area on the outskirts of what used to be the capital of the Benin republic. The metal squelched deep into the soft ground as he dropped it and gave it a closer look. The magical material was dense with mana and another energy that Charlemagne couldn¡¯t yet identify. It was also far too big to fit into the rooster¡¯s mouth. Leaning down, the rooster pecked the metal piece, driving it deeper into the mud. Angry at the ground for not holding the piece in place, he struck again and again, until the metal was buried so deep into the mud that he could hardly reach it. After repeating the process a few more times to identical results, the rooster finally decided that he needed a better surface. Charlemagne picked the metal back up, ignoring the strange tingling sensation in his face, and flew off to find a more suitable place to process his next meal. It took only a few seconds for the rooster to spot an exposed concrete surface. He landed eagerly and dropped his burden onto the hard, flat surface. This time, the metal made a satisfying thwacking sound as it collided with the grey rock. Charlemagne pecked downward with all his might, activating his Strike skill. There a sound that sound like metal clanging against metal, followed by a burst of pain from the rooster¡¯s face. Looking closely at the piece of incredibly durable metal, Charlemagne only saw a small indent where the tip of his beak had struck. Charlemagne only had dim memories from his rampage along the coast of Benin that had culminated in him full on attacking an airplane, but he remembered enough to understand that his Mana Core could be used to strengthen his movements. Cycling his mana through his body, the Charlemagne began to concentrate it as best as he could into his beak. The strange energy that was radiating from the piece of metal also seemed to respond to his intent, likewise gathering in front of his face. As he pushed his focus to its limits, tiny stars began to appear in his vision as a faint blue glow surrounded his beak. Having empowered his body to its limits, the rooster struck again, once against using Strike. Chunks of concrete exploded high into the air, a few smaller pieces creating miniature sonic booms. The slab cracked in two as the piece of metal was driven into it like a wedge. Charlemagne was flung into the air by the recoil and barely managed to avoid falling onto his head, landing ungracefully after doing three full summersaults in the air. Part of the roostser¡¯s face hurt like crazy, but his beak had gone entirely numb from the force of the blast. Letting his Mana Core continue to direct power to his face, this time to heal it, the rooster walked over to the deep fissure he¡¯d created to check the results of his latest attempt. He was puzzled to find a strangle yellow cone tipped with red sticking out of the metal piece. The rooster hopped down into the hole to get a closer look, thinking intensely. He was certain that he had seen the object before. He was right. It was his beak. The rooster hopped back out of the hole and rubbed his wing across his face. His beak felt like it was smaller than usually was, but it was still there. The yellow object must have been something else. Jumping back in to grab the metal, which was somewhat harder to hold than before, he flapped back out and made his way to another undamaged section of concrete. He dropped the metal piece and stared at it intensely. His craving for whatever it contained had not been diminished by the obstacle it posed. In fact, it was slowly growing. He simply had to find a way to mold the material. Reaching out with his Mana Core, Charlemagne once again studied the piece of magical metal. While the mysterious energy radiated away from the material steadily, mana did not. In fact, the metal seemed to be absorbing the ambient mana in small quantities. The rooster wondered if all the mana the metal had absorbed was what made it so tasty. If that was the case, maybe adding more mana would make it tastier? All thoughts of figuring out how to ingest the delicious metal went out the window as Charlemagne worked at how to make the material even tastier to his Special Ability, Food for the Stomach and the Stomach for Food. Reaching into his Mana Core, he ordered the mana stored within to begin accumulating in his throat. This time, however, he wasn¡¯t trying to create a dense mana sphere. No, he was simply creating a mana dense environment that would nurture the small piece of metal. A passerby would have observed a scaly chicken-thing vomiting, ever so gently, what appeared to be a glowing blue string onto an unresisting piece of metal. Charlemagne had neither the capacity nor the inclination to care about external appearances. He was completely focused on the task at hand. The mana, coaxed into a vaguely cylindrical shape, was being slowly absorbed by the metal piece. The strange prickly feeling grew stronger as the metal grew warmer. After a few minutes of feeding mana, the piece of metal began to glow. It was only dim red at first, but the light and heat emanating from the material grew quickly. The light turned to orange, and then yellow and finally to a dingy white as the heat grew so intense that Charlemagne had to close his eyes. Using only his magical senses, the rooster saw that the structure of the metal had changed, softening it greatly. His Special Ability was going wild, demanding that he consume the material instantly. It was all he could do to hold off for a few more moments. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Unable to stave off his hunger anymore, Charlemagne allowed his instincts to take over. A mesh of mana shot out from his Mana Core, enveloping the white-hot metal. The metal deformed easily as the mesh grabbed it and began to retract. The entire mass slammed straight into Charlemagne¡¯s waiting mouth, hissing as it turned whatever stray moisture it encountered to steam, before being dragged down his esophagus and into his stomach. The pain that the rooster experienced during this process cannot be understated. Although he had survived being burnt to a crisp before, that had happened in the metaphysical plane, where the limits of biology were more like a suggestions than hard rules. Charlemagne¡¯s mouth and throat were torn and burnt at the same time as the searing hot metal forced its way past his crop and down into his stomach, where the rooster¡¯s enhanced healing factor struggled to keep up with the damage the burning lump was doing to his internal organs. His nerves especially did not appreciate being seared and regrown over and over. If the burning heat had been the only complication from ingesting the metal, Charlemagne would have recovered from his ordeal in a matter of minutes. After all, metal cools fairly quickly when quenched in water. No, the real issue, the one that Charlemagne only noticed once he was no longer being boiled alive, was that the magical metal was highly radioactive. And it was bombarding the rooster¡¯s vital organs with extreme doses of magical radiation. A weird rumbling in the rooster¡¯s abdomen preceded a torrent of blood, viscera, and fluid that rocketed from Charlemagne¡¯s mouth onto the concrete below. Charlemagne, acting on instinct, ate what he could before the next round of throwing up interrupted his grisly and cannibalistic meal. The nausea continued to come in waves as Charlemagne flopped onto the ground, his body weakened by the high dose of radiation, which caused immediate devastation to his cells due to its magical nature. The growing ache in his stomach coupled with the nausea made it almost impossible for him to look inward with his mystical senses, but the rooster powered through. The power that the squiggles had brought him had never led him astray before¡­there must have been something in the metal that his body needed. He just needed to survive the process long enough to obtain whatever benefit that was. Starting with the basics, Charlemagne began to manually cycle mana through his body, noting with surprise that the strange energy emanating from the lump of metal were being pulled into the mana flow. As more of the energy was captured by his mana, his weakness and nausea slowly began to subside. After over half an hour of manually moving his mana, Charlemagne was convinced that he was still missing something. The lump of metal was still there, completely undigested. The strange energy was now clogging up the tiny pathways that his mana flowed through, making it more and more difficult to circulate his mana. The energy was also condensing in his Mana Core, which threw off its rhythm. He needed a way to get rid of the new energy and absorb the metal using his Special Ability. But he didn¡¯t know how to do either of those things. All he knew how to do was to get rid of his mana¡­ It took a few iterations of this particular chain of thought for the rooster to realize that he did, in fact, have a way to get rid of the strange energy that was cramping his style. He just needed to expel it the same way that he did his mana. Rather than forming a thread and pushing the mana gently out of his mouth, the rooster opted for the more spectacular option. Condensing a ball of radiation-laced mana in his throat, Charlemagne struggled to pull as much of the new type of energy out of his Mana Core and into his combination attack. It took more focus than he had expected to continue to cycle just his mana while gathering as much of the radiation as possible into the growing ball, which now glowed a lovely shade of aquamarine instead of bright blue. Having no target in mind, the rooster tilted his head back and let his attack fly directly into the sky, crowing as he unleashed it. ¡°Buck-kawk!¡± The relief that Charlemagne felt was unimaginable as the highly radioactive ball of mana flew high into the air before dissipating. He flopped back to the ground with the chicken equivalent of a groan, hoping that purging himself of the radiation would allow his body to go to work on digesting the metal. Unfortunately that was not the case. The poor rooster had to repeat the process another eight times over the next two hours. Finally, after the ninth energy ball had been sent on its merry way, something shifted inside Charlemagne¡¯s body. Powerful stomach acid was generated in immense quantities, slowly wearing away at the hard metal slug sitting in his digestive tract. This unleashed both stored mana and more radiation, so Charlemagne wearily started the cycle to purge himself of the damaging energy once again. It took another seventeen cycles and about four hours for the metal to finally break down entirely, allowing Charlemagne to finally unleash the last of the radiation and mana mix. This time, unlike the others, he was too tired to lift his head, and fired the ball straight ahead. Then he fell over, too exhausted to move further. It was at that moment that the squiggles rewarded his efforts.
Congratulations, you have undergone body tempering. Due to the method used, your Durability attribute has increased by 10 points and your Strength attribute by 5 points. You also receive 2 bonus points to your Special attribute for incorporating a new energy type into your physique (radiation). Future tempering involving different methodologies will be easier, while additional tempering using the same energy type (radiation) will be increasingly more difficult. Experimentation is your friend! Congratulations, you have earned the achievement (Double Trouble). You are one of the first 100 system users to temper both your body and your soul. Attributes are ten percent more effective. Skills Increased Mana Core 6->7 Radiation Manipulation 1->4
Charlemagne was happy to learn that the power he had been given by the squiggles had not betrayed him. His faith in the power of the System was reaffirmed as he read his new gains. Not only was his body stronger and tougher, but he had also gained additional proficiency in the Mana Core skill, which seemed to be a crucial part of him now and was the key to being able to absorb the magical metal in the first place. The skilled called ¡°Radiation Manipulation¡± must have been related to the strange energy that was being stored in the metal, because it grew the most during his ordeal. Finally, he had earned another achievement, which made all his attributes work better. The rooster was content to lie down for a while and recover from his ordeal, and thus he closed his eyes just for a moment to rest, allowing his Mana Core to draw in ambient energy to continue to heal his body. Exhausted, he quickly fell asleep. Charlemagne had no idea how much time had elapsed, because the sun was still high in the sky when he woke with a start, sensing something approaching. Pulling himself up to his feet, he saw an army approaching. The rooster puffed himself up and crowed his defiance at the human-like shapes rapidly approaching. Then he launched himself into battle. Chapter 15 Charlemagne met the vanguard of the charging enemies head on, getting a good look at his new opponents as they moved to intercept him. The creatures looked like very skinny and boney humans and were covered a thick layer of black dust. In fact, it was hard to tell where the dust ended and their skin began, because what little skin was visible was half-melted and terribly scarred. Their faces lacked flesh almost entirely, and instead of eyes, the creatures had two balls of sinister green light burning inside their skulls. Their arms were longer than a humans would be and were tipped with razor sharp claws, which appeared to be their only weapons. He dodged the first few swipes easily, putting his newly increased dexterity attribute to good use and retaliating when an opportunity presented itself. His beak did less damage than he thought it should, but not because his attacks were too weak. In fact, each peck blasted holes right through the enemies. The problem was that he had become used to fighting humans, who collapsed upon losing their genitals, tracheas, or brains. These creatures needed none of these to fight. The rooster gamely continued fighting as more and more of the creatures swarmed around him. One of his Zen Barbarian class abilities kicked in, causing his Mana Core to gain a temporary level. Charlemagne, being completely engrossed in what he was doing, only felt the diminished strain on his body as the mana reinforcing it flowed more efficiently, strengthening him further and reducing the drain on his reserves. But Charlemagne wasn¡¯t the only one gaining strength. As his speed and power increased, so too did his opponents¡¯. Their green eyes glowed with greater ferocity as the claws sliced through the air faster and faster. A haze began to rise from the melee, empowering the monsters as they fought with what seemed like endless stamina. It took Charlemagne a while to realize what was happening, but the dimwitted rooster finally understood that his foes made each other stronger the more densely packed they were. He needed to get them to spread out again. Charlemagne, not having been born with the ability to fly, could have simply taken to the skies to accomplish this goal. However, he still thought in terms of a land-based lifeform the majority of the time, so he struggled more than he should have to break out of the mob of charred monsters. Turning around, he accepted several swipes to his wings and back as he surged forward at full speed, activating both Strike and Athletics before and leaping straight at one of the larger monsters, bursting straight through the creature¡¯s torso before landing smoothly and sprinting back the way he had come. Dozens of creatures followed him in hot pursuit. The rooster fought against incredible odds again and again, hobbling the faster opponents just as often as he killed them outright. As he clashed with the monsters, foreign energy once again began choking his mana pathways and his Mana Core struggled to keep up. He also couldn¡¯t replenish the calories he was losing. For one thing, he didn¡¯t have to the time to stop and eat anything, but more importantly, the creatures¡¯ bodies looked gross and tasted worse. Even his Special Ability didn¡¯t have anything good to say about them. The rooster¡¯s wounds mounted as the energy in his Mana Core continued to dwindle and he made more careless mistakes. He was currently fighting six of the monsters, dodging claw attacks that came from multiple angles and trading hits when he found solid openings in the enemy¡¯s defenses. The temporary boost to his mana-based skills had long since reached a plateau, and the strange energy that continued to accumulate in his body was hampering his ability to draw in the ambient mana surrounding him. As he continued to accumulate damage, however, his resilience continued to grow due to another feature of the Zen Barbarian class.
Injuries that debilitate others make you stronger as the efficiency of your attributes increases the more injuries you suffer. Healing injuries will remove the attribute bonuses after a brief grace period.
For a while, the damage Charlemagne received and his natural healing were almost equal, allowing him to continue to put down foes at a steady pace. That all changed when an entire pack of the creatures arrived all at once, a haze of energy rising from them like miasma. Realizing that he was outmatched, the rooster finally remembered his wings, unfurling them. The first few flaps sent a couple of the monsters tumbling. Charlemagne used the distraction to gain altitude, planning to head back the way he had come, but he had underestimated the reach of the creatures¡¯ long arms and claws. A punishing attack caught him from the left side, forcing him back to the ground as it lacerated his wing. A dozen of the fearless creatures surrounded the rooster in a flash, empowering each other through the strange energy they shared and choking off Charlemagne¡¯s ability to draw in mana. In a matter of moments, he was bleeding from numerous lacerations all over his body. It was then that his class skill, Zenrage, activated, and Charlemagne lost himself completely to the flow of battle. Francois had lost track of the strange bird creature after it had disappeared over lake Nokoue. Thinking that there was no longer any point in trying to track it down, he had taken a short nap before heading due east, planning to pass between the ruined city of Porto Novo and Lagos while giving each a wide berth. He had just taken the oldest of the three bridges that crossed over the Lagoon of Cotonou, which was the only one still intact after the System integration, when he spotted a strange ball of light flying straight into the air. Having almost been killed by a nearly identical attack just a few hours earlier, the gorilla instantly recognized it. Heading out at a fairy quick pace, Francois took a moment to check his equipment. The black and white striped shirt had seen better days but was still serviceable. His weapon was safely stored in his inventory, ready to be called upon as needed. Finally, the gorilla¡¯s old hat had been thrown into storage, and a beret of lesser quality had been pressed into service. It would have to do. Francois turned his attention back to the road and accelerated, realizing that he needed to move quickly to catch up. His powerful limbs propelled him at great speed, allowing him to simply jump over the occasional roundabout that blocked his path. Having seen a map of the area, the gorilla understood that he needed to head further east before turning north to take advantage of the road that still connected Cotonou and Porto Novo. It took him only a few minutes at top speed to reach the roundabout he was looking for and swing around to the north. The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. As the gorilla neared the bridge to Porto Novo, another flash of light caught his attention, this time from almost due west. Slowing down, Francois decided backtrack and approach the bird from the south rather than risk heading too far north and attracting the attention of the corpses that haunted the ruins of the former capital. As Francois worked his way southwest, he spotted a veritable army of the reanimated guardians. Using his Identify skill on one of them, he confirmed that they were the remnants of the city¡¯s inhabitants, which had been wiped off the map by several powerful atomic bombs.
Irradiated Corpse Level 10 Swarm Type A former inhabitant of the city of Porto Novo. These creatures are highly radioactive and draw strength from nearby sources of radiation. Yes, this includes each other.
The gorilla shuddered. He¡¯d been burned, frozen, and electrocuted all within the last week, no sweat. But radiation was a different beast all together. It made damage harder to heal, sapped your strength, and could even make you sick in ways that weren¡¯t easy to fix. In short, it was an energy type to be feared. Only crazy creatures tangled with radioactive monsters. The sounds of battle cut the gorilla¡¯s musings short. For a moment, he worried that he¡¯d been discovered and that the reanimated horde was headed his way. Then he realized that the sounds weren¡¯t getting any closer. Sticking low to the earth and using whatever vegetation he could find as cover the gorilla snuck closer to see what was happening. After a few tense minutes, he finally laid eyes on what was fighting the monsters. It was that crazy chicken thing. His Identify skill unfortunately did not work on other integrated creatures, so he was unable to see its level. Based on its performance in combat, however, the rooster must have been level 25 or possibly higher. It was weaving through a crowd of the Irradiated Corpses with ease, each swipe or peck putting another one down for good. Blood flowed freely from numerous wounds all over the bird¡¯s body, making it difficult to tell that its feathers were black and not red. One of its eyes appeared to have been damaged, and chunks of feathers were missing in several places. And yet the demented thing fought with a ferocity that Francois had never seen before. The battled raged for another few minutes as more and more of the reanimated corpses arrived, drawn by the radiation emitted from their brethren. The rooster took a few more nasty hits as it continued to put down the swarming monsters one after the other. Even from a relatively safe distance, the gorilla could tell that the ambient radiation level was rising quickly. Destroying the Irradiated Corpses released more radiation into the atmosphere, which attracted more of the things, creating a cycle that was bound to end in the rooster¡¯s demise. Just as Francois was about to turn around and retreat, leaving the chicken to its fate, something changed. The rooster¡¯s smooth movements faltered, and it looked around as if in a daze. Several of the corpses took advantage of the bird¡¯s confusion to score hits against it, their empowered claws leaving deep rents in the rooster. Finally realizing that it was outmatched, the chicken turned toward Francois and began to run away. But unfortunately, it was too slow to escape the mob of monsters that surrounded it. To his credit, the gorilla never worried about what might happen to him if he intervened in the fight, springing into action immediately to aid the crazy bird that was now desperately trying to free itself from the horde of monsters on its heels. Withdrawing a strange-looking cylinder from his inventory, Francois reached in and pulled out a baguette. Holding it like a javelin, he hurled it with all his considerable might toward the nearest monsters. The baguette spun in the air like an American football, the magic of the System causing it to fly true despite being a piece of bread. It blew through the first two monsters before impaling itself in a third. Before the corpses hit the ground, another baguette was already in the air, striking the pack of monsters with a similar effect. A few more well-placed throws served to slow the herd, and Francois was sure that the rooster would be able to escape on its own. He started to turn to put more distance between himself and the radioactive miasma that emanated from the monsters but then stopped and stared in amazement. The crazy chicken had turned back into the throng of monsters! The gorilla pulled out another of his baguettes, ready to assist again, but the rooster didn¡¯t attack again. Instead, it made a bee line for one of the downed corpses and grabbed the baguette impaled through its head. Then it turned back around, taking a few glancing hits in the process, and hightailed it again, passing straight by Francois in a blur of speed as it made good on its escape. The gorilla turned and followed, looking back occasionally to make sure that the monsters were unable to keep up. Eventually, the pair put enough distance between them and the crowd of corpses that the entire group swung back around and began shambling north again, heading to more radioactive territory. The rooster trembled for a moment before shooting off again at an even faster pace, which meant that the System was distributing its rewards for combat. He wasn¡¯t surprised to have not gotten any notifications. As a level eighteen, he wasn¡¯t going to level up from killing a few monsters around half his level. But the rooster had slain dozens, which was a considerable feat even for someone in the early twenties. One thing bothered him, however. The rooster had gotten more than just a little faster. In fact, it was now moving considerably faster than he could, even at top speed. ¡°Wait for me!¡± he shouted at the quickly disappearing rooster to no effect. That is, until he added, ¡°I have more baguettes!¡± The rooster screeched to a halt and turned to face him, dropping the baguette it had stolen to the ground. Then it aggressively pecked at the bread, its beak moving so quickly that it sounded more like a woodpecker¡¯s than a rooster¡¯s. Its sharp eyes, however, never stopped staring his way. As it ate, the bird¡¯s wounds coating its body began to close. In no time at all, the bread was entirely gone. As Francois crept closer, he pulled out another baguette, holding it out in both his hands like an offering. Stopping at what he hoped was a non-threatening distance, the gorilla tossed the baguette, aiming at a spot close but not too close to the rooster¡¯s feet. The silly bird ran backwards as soon as the bread was in the air, only returning to the area once the baguette was safely on the ground. It consumed the baguette in the exact same manner as it had the last one, before doing something entirely unexpected. Raising its beak straight up in the air, it expelled a huge amount of mana laced with radiation into the sky. Then it looked directly at him with an expectant glint in his eye. The gorilla pulled out another baguette, hoping that the rooster would be satisfied with just bread. Chapter 16 Charlemagne regained consciousness to find himself amid a throng of enemies once again. The last thing he remembered was flying away from a group of enemies that looked exactly like the ones attacking him. He couldn¡¯t figure out if he was still fighting in the same area or if the monsters had followed him, but either way it didn¡¯t matter. His body was starting to give out, and he needed to retreat and find a food source as soon as possible. He turned and started running in a direction that seemed to have less of the strange energy that he had been forced to purge from his body numerous times, taking a few minor wounds as he broke out of the circle of enemies. His Mana Core struggled to send mana to his legs, allowing the now pursuing monsters to gain on him. He was about to take to the skies once again when he saw a creature that looked exactly like the one that had torn open the statue a few hours before. Before he could react to its presence, the lanky beast hurled a long, thin stick at him. It hurtled through the air and slammed into one of the monsters chasing him. A wonderful smell emanated from the missile, almost causing Charlemagne to turn around then and there to grab whatever it was. But the strange humans chasing him were still numerous and he was growing weaker. He couldn¡¯t afford to stop. He continued running full tilt away from his pursuers as a second delectable thrown weapon blew away a few more, then a third, and finally a forth. With their numbers diminished, the remaining monsters were just slow enough that Charlemagne was able to follow his instincts. He whirled around, digging his claws into the hard-packed earth, and reversed direction. He zigged and zagged until he reached the closest of the round, brown sticks and grabbed it in his beak. Then he resumed his escape at top speed, not looking back again. The creature that had thrown the missiles was running away as well, but Charlemagne passed by in a blaze of pure speed, not caring if it lived or died now that he had a source of nutrients. In less than a minute, the rooster had put enough distance between him and the monster pack that the System realized he was done fighting. This time, he was not surprised when the squiggles arrived, as he had always seen them after a prolonged battle. Even though they always brought good news, he pushed them away without hesitation. There was something far more interesting than the squiggles in his mouth. Just its mere presence made him salivate. What Charlemagne had was more than just a piece of stale bread with some charred flesh stuck to it. It was magical stale bread with some charred flesh stuck to it. A plaintive noise reached his ears. It sounded like something was trying to get his attention. The rooster turned around to see what the disturbance was and found the lanky, hairy former owner of his piece of bread. A thought crossed the rooster¡¯s mind. What if it had more of that amazing food? But, first things first. Charlemagne tossed the baguette onto the ground and consumed it with an alacrity only possessed by those who have truly known hunger. Deeply suspicious of the creature watching him, he kept his eyes on it, waiting for it to show any sort of aggression. But the big hairy creature seemed content to keep its distance. That worked just fine for Charlemagne, at least as long as the bread lasted. After making short work of the entire baguette, the rooster looked up and saw that the creature was inching closer, holding out more of the amazing food in a manner that appeared to be sufficiently subservient. There was a moment of misunderstanding when the other being tossed the bread his way, causing Charlemagne to momentarily retreat, but the rooster magnanimously overlooked the indiscretion as he dug into the second piece of bread. His hunger largely sated, Charlemagne checked in on his body and found that, although his wounds were largely healed, his Mana Core was not doing so great. So much of the strange energy had accumulated that it was simply choking his ability to absorb, circulate, and store mana. It was time for him to vent it out again. The process of using a small amount of mana to trap, condense, and expel the foreign energy was routine for Charlemagne by this point, and it wasn¡¯t long before he lifted his head to the sky and forced the energy out of his mouth. Having finished with his purge, he looked over again at the creature who been watching him, wondering if was anywhere as tasty as the treat it had given him. While he was still considering what to do, the hairy being slowly reached into a strangely shaped sack that it carried and withdrew another loaf of the incredible substance. All thoughts of immediately eating the creature left the rooster¡¯s head as he waited for another piece of warm bread. This time, the creature lowered the baguette gently to the ground and backed up a bit, allowing Charlemagne room to approach and take the offering. The rooster walked up boldly and stared the other down for a moment, waiting for it to give him even more space. Once he was satisfied that the hairy biped was sufficiently distant, he began eating his third baguette, this time allowing himself to savor each bite. ¡°HOoooooAAAh ohhhh eeeeeh ahhh!¡± the other creature said as the Charlemagne dug in. ¡°HoooHoouah aheeehoha ahahoa!¡± Something inside Charlemagne¡¯s head started itching as the creature repeated itself several times. It was so annoying that the rooster finally stopped eating and gave the other creature a vicious glare. Its eyes widened in surprise, but it kept on making the same noises over and over. The strange sensation grew until Charlemagne couldn¡¯t take it anymore, and he puffed himself up, ready to attack the other beast. The creature yelled again, causing the itching sensation to morph into a short, sharp pain. Charlemagne, who had been on the cusp of charging the other creature despite its gift of delicious bread, suddenly stopped short. It wasn¡¯t the pain that deterred him, for he was used to charging in the face of certain injury. Now, what gave the rooster pause was the fact that he understood what the other creature was saying. ¡°Wait! I just want to talk!¡± The rooster understood that the other creature claimed to be interested in an exchange of information rather than combat. It would only be proper to respond, even if he did decide to eat the other animal later. ¡°Bawark!¡± he responded. The strange, hairy creature backed up a bit more, as if unsure of Charlemagne¡¯s intentions. This confused the rooster, as he was sure that he had been reasonably polite. ¡°Bwoark?¡± he added helpfully. The other animal muttered something that appeared to be scatological in nature before speaking up again. ¡°Can you understand me now?¡± it asked. Charlemagne was not familiar with the body language used by bipeds, but the most common motions he saw, apart from them making weird noises with their flat, ugly mouths, were the waving of the arms and the nodding of their round, ugly heads. Wondering what the result would be, the rooster flapped his right wing once. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Ok, I think that was a yes,¡± the other animal said out loud. ¡°Think, Francois, think. How can we make this work? I know! If you can understand me, flap your left wing.¡± Charlemagne, who had never been taught the difference between left and right, flapped his right wing again. The creature let out a heavy sigh as it lifted its flat, human-like face to the sky. ¡°I guess I should have expected that. Maybe something simpler?¡± he grumbled before looking back at the rooster again. ¡°Flap your wing two times if you understand me this time,¡± the creature demanded before adding a belated ¡°Please,¡± to the end. Charlemagne, still feeling generous after having eaten his fill of bread, flapped his right wing two times. ¡°La vache, it worked!¡± the creature cheered. ¡°Ok mon ami, my name is Francois and I am a gorilla. I know I might look a bit like a human, at least to you birds, but I am not one of those, those, monsters. I was part of a team that was sent out on a scouting mission, looking to recruit strong creatures to join our new city, when we were ambushed by a group led by humans. We managed to drive them off, but only a few of us were healthy enough to keep going, so I sent the rest of the team back home with my second-in-command, Benedict, while I continued on alone. It seems fortunate that I did, because you¡¯ve got incredible growth potential¡­¡± While Francois continued his incredibly lengthy speech, Charlemagne remembered that he had received a message from the squiggles. A quick thought brought the shimmering symbols back from wherever it was they hid when projecting themselves in the air. As always, the squiggles brought amazing news.
Congratulations, you have earned the achievement (Leveled Up). You have gained five or more levels in a single combat. Attributes are ten percent more effective. Skills increased Ironskin 3->8 Athletics 1->3 Flight 1->2 Strike 1->3 Zenrage 1->2 Congratulations, you are now level 13 Strength: (205->217.5) Dexterity: (187.5->200) Durability: (210->222.5) Special: (177.5->190) Congratulations, you are now level 14 Strength: (217.5->230) Dexterity: (200->212.5) Durability: (222.5->235) Special: (190->202.5) Congratulations, you are now level 15 Strength: (230->242.5) Dexterity: (212.5->225) Durability: (235->247.5) Special: (202.5->215) Congratulations, you are now level 16 Strength: (242.5->255) Dexterity: (225->237.5) Durability: (247.5->260) Special: (215->227.5) Congratulations, you are now level 17 Strength: (255->267.5) Dexterity: (237.5->250) Durability: (260->272.5) Special: (227.5->240) Congratulations, your base strength now exceeds one hundred points. Each point of strength makes it easier to lift items from the ground. Congratulation, your base dexterity now exceeds one hundred points. Each point of dexterity further increases your fine motor skills. Congratulations, your base durability now exceeds one hundred points. Each point of durability will increase your ability to endure non-magical crushing attacks. Congratulations, you have reached a new milestone. For reaching level 15, you receive 15 free attribute points. You will also receive a new special ability tailored to suit your need. Note: your class (Zen Barbarian), your skills, and your achievements have influenced your choices. Please also note that this choice can not be easily undone. Choose wisely from the following list: Special Ability: Battle Meditation. Clarity comes more easily to you through battle than through peace. Gain the skill ¡°Meditation¡±, which will only level during combat. Advantageous synergies have been detected with class skill ¡°Zenrage¡± and advanced skill ¡°Mana Core¡±. Energy manipulation skills will level faster in combat and tempering through repeated exposure to a particular damage type becomes easier. Special Ability: Radiation Core. You have been exposed to (and¡­wait¡­willingly ingested?) an incredible amount of harmful radiation. Choosing this upgrade will allow your fused skill ¡°Radiation Manipulation¡± to better synergize the fused advanced skill ¡°Mana Core¡±. This upgrade will allow you to absorb radiation and make use of it in a number of ways, such as body tempering and creating wounds that are difficult to heal. Due to these powerful advantages, Radiation Core requires significantly more effort to level. It also requires a source of radiation to harness. Note: Radiation Core will benefit from any achievements, abilities, or skills that enhance mana skills. Special Ability: Hybrid Body. You have willingly ingested (again, what?) and digested a large amount of mana and radiation-infused metal, tempering your body in the process. This Special Ability takes things a step further, turning your body into a metal-organic hybrid. You will become extremely resistant to both physical and magical damage, and certain energy types will affect your body differently. This option will also irrevocably alter your DNA, both preventing damage to it and permanently rendering your sterile. Put another way, you will be unable to have children, thus ends your genetic line, you¡¯ll be shooting blanks, and so forth.
Charlemagne, as a rooster, generally followed three main priorities. They were, in descending order, making baby chickens, eating, and dominating lesser life forms. Thus, he instantly eliminated the Hybrid Body Special Ability, properly identifying it as directly opposed to his primary life goal. That left two strong contenders, Battle Meditation and Radiation Core. Battle Meditation seemed to be particularly useful in long fights, and Charlemagne got the impression from the squiggles that it would help his Mana Core get stronger over time. Since he relied on his Mana Core to enhance his body, power his ranged attacks, and get rid of unwanted energy, it was never a bad thing to make Mana Core more powerful. But the other Special Ability also promised to enhance his Mana Core, turning into something else entirely. Being able to better harness the strange energy that had come both from the piece of metal he¡¯d eaten as well as the strange human-like monsters was something that could help him now and possibly for a long time in the future. Besides, the more forms of energy that he could harness, the better. The one downside to the Special Ability, according to the squiggles, was that he needed steady access to a source of that energy to continue to advance his evolved Mana Core. But there was plenty of the energy in the area around him, so it probably wouldn¡¯t be hard to keep finding more of it. The rooster thought harder than he had ever thought before, putting every braincell to work trying to weigh a hundred different variables, some of which he didn¡¯t actually understand. One of his frustrations was that he didn¡¯t understand what the skill Meditation actually did. As he stewed over this particular grievance, the squiggles arrived to help him out.
Meditation: You can enter into a calm state that increases energy regeneration, natural healing rates, and focus. Certain types of tempering are accelerated while meditation is active.
Charlemagne wasn¡¯t sure what to think about the Meditation skill. On one hand, he already regenerated mana and healed really quickly. But the ability to focus was something that intrigued him, and he wondered what affects that would have on his fighting skills. The Radiation Core upgrade didn¡¯t offer him an extra skill at all, but it did affect Mana Core, which the squiggles always said was very special. The rooster spent a few long minutes pondering his choices, and had just finally made up his mind when a sound like the blast from one of the humans¡¯ weapons broke his concentration. Focusing his eyes, he realized that Francois had clapped his enormous hands, generating a deafening shockwave, in the hopes of getting his attention. ¡°Hello? Are you there? Did you hear what I said?¡± Chapter 17 Charlemagne gave the hairy creature an annoyed squawk, indignant at being interrupted so rudely. He advanced menacingly, wondering once again if he should just attack the beast. Luckily for the gorilla, the rooster¡¯s enhanced memory served in its favor: Charlemagne was hesitant to attack someone who had offered a suitable gift and showed proper subservience. His greed outweighed his annoyance, for the moment. ¡°I said, we really should get a move on before that display of yours brings trouble down on our heads. Even though Lagos is still pretty far to the east, human patrols are all over the place these days. What¡¯s worse, they and the dogs have an alliance, so it¡¯s hard to go unnoticed once one of those infernal hounds has caught your scent. If you¡¯d like, I can take you back to our city. There aren¡¯t very many chickens there, but we are building a pretty broad resistance against the human, cat, and dog triumvirate. We¡¯d be lucky to have such a strong fighter as you by our side, to be honest.¡± ¡°Wark,¡± Charlemagne answered honestly, not particularly wanting to leave the area just yet. ¡°Was that a ¡®yes¡¯?¡± Francois asked. ¡°Flap once for ¡®yes¡¯, and two times for ¡®no¡¯, my feathered friend.¡± Charlemagne flapped two times. ¡°I¡¯ll give you more baguettes,¡± the gorilla promised. The rooster thought for a moment. There really wasn¡¯t anything tying him to the area. He had no idea if he had any progeny, or where they were if they existed. Giving in to his lust for bread, he flapped once. ¡°Parfait! I need to conserve the remaining charges on this quiver in case we get attacked, but I¡¯ll give you a whole bunch once we make it to the city. Yes, I know it should have a name, but no one can agree. Some want to call it Animal City, but that is so boring, you know. I think that¡­¡± The hairy creature stopped midsentence, its body tensing up and its eyes rolling back in their sockets, although it remained upright. Then it spat up a small amount of blood and relaxed, looking completely fine again. ¡°Sorry about that, mon ami. Had to fight off a bacteria that had gotten a bit too cocky. You know how it is¡­or maybe you don¡¯t, I can¡¯t imagine eating that piece of metal did your gut any favors.¡± Charlemagne flapped his wings and bawked his agreement. ¡°Oh, you do? Well, anyways, that¡¯s life now. If the humans don¡¯t get me, one of these days I¡¯ll end up getting taken down by a bug. And speaking of bugs, I heard that there¡¯s a Champion mosquito somewhere in the area, so be careful. You definitely don¡¯t want to tangle with one of those. I heard that they are the fourth most powerful species.¡± Charlemagne was beginning to regret his decision to accompany the gorilla. He talked way too much. Charlemagne flapped his wings repeatedly and gave the chatty ape a ¡°bawk¡± of warning. ¡°You¡¯re right¡­you¡¯re right. Sorry, let¡¯s just keep moving.¡± The pair set out to the north-east, giving the dead city of Porto Novo a wide berth. Charlemagne would have been happy to go another round with the horde of what he now understood were radioactive monsters, but Francois seemed to be afraid of even small amount of the energy that he called ¡°radiation¡±. It was confusing to Charlemagne, until he came to realize that Francois couldn¡¯t manipulate the energy to expel it, and that he didn¡¯t heal the way that Charlemagne did. Largely tuning Francois out as the pair travelled, Charlemagne first assigned his fifteen free points, dividing them evenly among Strength, Dexterity, and Durability. He also finalized his choice for a Special Ability, choosing to take Battle Meditation over Radiation Core.
Congratulation, you have acquired the following Special Ability: Battle Meditation. Fight responsibly! Skills Added Meditation
Charlemagne felt better about his choice the further he and Francois got from Porto Novo. Outside of the desolated area, there was hardly any radiation at all. Picking Radiation Core would have limited his growth outside of areas like that, and he wasn¡¯t sure where he would find large numbers of his own kind. He couldn¡¯t wait to test the Special Ability in battle. If it was anywhere near as powerful as Food for the Stomach and the Stomach for Food, it would serve him well. While they travelled, Francois continually broke the comfortable silence to tell Charlemagne random facts, or ask him questions about himself that the rooster did not possess the language nor the patience to answer. Despite getting on the rooster¡¯s nerves, the gorilla did share information that was very useful to Charlemagne. ¡°You must keep your eye for, mon ami aviaire, for items generated by the System. They are very rare, but are always useful and some can be extremely powerful. My own item, the quiver that creates the baguettes, came from my class and it will only work for me. The System calls these ¡®bound items¡¯, because they can only have one owner and cannot be traded, even willingly. Which I guess is good for me, since you need me if you want more of that bread, eh? Oh, I think the reason the quiver summon baguettes is because of my class, which is ¡®French Gorilla¡¯, and¡­¡± Another one of the gorilla¡¯s long-winded explanations involved his ability to make items disappear and reappear at will. ¡°Ah, shortly after Integration Day all the gorillas received this power from our deity, Shabania. She said that it would help us ¡®do gorilla things¡¯, but I¡¯m not sure what exactly that means. Anyways, she said that the ability called an ¡®inventory¡¯ and we could store a certain amount depending on our strength attribute in it. Where the stuff goes when I store it, I have no clue at all. It just¡­disappears. If I concentrate, I can kind of see what all I have in there.¡± Francois slowed his loping strides for a moment before continuing. ¡°Maintenent I have a bunch of overripe bananas, my quiver, some rocks, a few metal pieces, and a roll of bandages in there. It¡¯s not really an impressive collection, but I actually got a level a few days ago when I climbed up into a tree and at a whole bunch while I was keeping watch. Ohhhh, that¡¯s what she meant by ¡®gorilla things¡¯. By Shabania¡¯s hairy nostrils, I¡¯ve been an idiot. Well, that ends today. I¡¯m going to do it all: sign language, grunting, hitting my chest, eating too many bananas, hanging out with Jane Goodall...¡± The most annoying part of Francois¡¯ chatter was that important information was hidden like pearls in a sea of barely-coherent ramblings. Thankfully, as they approached the city of Parakou in the heart of what used to be the Benin Republic, he started acting less like an overenthusiastic tour guide and more like a proper scout. This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. ¡°See here, mon ami, we can¡¯t go this way. There are still humans living in the area. Let¡¯s skirt around the west side of the city, there¡¯s a forest that¡¯s a bit of a long hike but it will give us much better cover as we pass through the area. I think there¡¯s a river that runs more or less straight north, we can follow it for a while. Eventually we¡¯ll want to head a bit further west anyways. If we don¡¯t, I might miss some of the landmarks that will lead us to our city. It¡¯s not easy to find, even if you know the area, because it¡¯s hidden deep inside the great forest to the north.¡± The pair made good time, and had made it about halfway to the forest, when Francois suddenly stopped, sniffed the air suspiciously, and then dropped low to the ground. ¡°Get down,¡± he hissed. ¡°Something¡¯s coming!¡± Charlemagne caught a brownish-grey streak barreling towards him from behind him and to his right. Rather than ducking down, he instead hopped forward, allowing what looked like a strange ball zoom past him. The projectile was moving so quickly that the wind from its passing ruffled the rooster¡¯s feathers. ¡°Francois, why don¡¯t you stay down,¡± a deep voice called out, coming from behind them. The gorilla¡¯s eyes widened in shock as he recognized whoever was speaking. ¡°Benedict, is that you? Where are the others?¡± ¡°Oui mon ami! I am at your service. Well, at least until I kill you and the bird, just like I killed the others. Once I present your bodies to the humans, they¡¯ll make me an honorary member of their alliance.¡± ¡°You killed them!¡± Francois yelled back, summoning his quiver. ¡°You monster! Even if you come at me with an army, it won¡¯t be enough to save your mangy hide!¡± ¡°I don¡¯t need an army,¡± came the ready reply. ¡°I have a Champion on my side.¡± Charlemagne had ignored the pair of posturing apes, keeping his attention on where the ball had gone. His special senses told him that not only was the ball filled with mana, but that he definitely needed to consume it. But it had disappeared into the brush, and he wasn¡¯t sure whether to kill the person who had thrown it or go after it first. ¡°Charlemagne, let¡¯s get this stupid ape!¡± Francois called as he advanced, keeping his eye out for the traitorous gorilla. ¡°Wark!¡± Charlemagne called out in warning, sensing that the strange ball was on the move again, this time heading from Francois. But the gorilla was too slow to react, and the spherical object struck him full in the face. A few bloody teeth were sent flying by the impact as Francois crashed down to the ground. ¡°Wark!¡± the rooster repeated, this time in surprise as the ball uncoiled itself, revealing a four-legged creature covered in scales. ¡°That¡¯s right, Francois¡¯ feathered friend!¡± shouted Benedict from wherever he was hiding. ¡°Ayawo the Pangolin is going to beat you to a pulp.¡± Charlemagne didn¡¯t wait to hear any more blustering, accelerating to his top speed in an attempt to prevent the armored animal from finishing off Francois while he was knocked down. The gorilla wasn¡¯t moving and appeared to be totally defenseless. Realizing its predicament, the pangolin leapt into the air, rolling back into a ball as it hurtled back toward where it had originally attacked from. The rooster didn¡¯t understand how the creature could accelerate so quickly, but he knew that he would eventually have to catch the thing himself if he wanted to defeat it. For one thing, it was moving too fast for him to accurately aim his ranged blast. It also didn¡¯t look like he would get time to charge up powerful attacks with how fast the pangolin was moving. While Charlemagne tried to figure out what was going on, he dodged another half-dozen attacks before receiving a glancing blow as the pangolin started adjusting to the rooster¡¯s combat style. The blow rattled Charlemagne and made him fear that one solid hit would knock him out, just like Francois. But the pangolin¡¯s trick continued to elude him as he wove between attacks, using the vast majority of his attention to keep track of the pangolin while also watching out for a surprise attack from the other gorilla. There had to be a reason that Benedict hadn¡¯t attacked yet, and Charlemagne had a feeling that, if he could figure that out, he could win the battle. Two more glancing blows took out one of the rooster¡¯s wings, and yet Charlemagne was still not any closer to figuring out a way to win the battle. He needed a way to increase his focus, so he could do two things at once better. Focus. The connections sparked inside the slow-witted rooster¡¯s brain. He had just received a skill that would allow him to become more focused in battle: meditate. As Charlemagne activated the skill for the first time, the world seemed to slow down a little bit, giving him more time to decide on his next action and making it a bit easier to split his attention. It was exactly what he needed at that moment. Something began nagging at him, but he still couldn¡¯t figure out exactly what it was he was supposed to be noticing. Another five attacks later, the epiphany finally struck the young rooster. The pangolin¡¯s attacks only came from a small area on either side of him. Since Benedict wasn¡¯t attacking, he must be helping the pangolin Champion in some way. Charlemagne needed to find Benedict and take him out first before dealing with the pangolin. With a plan as firmly in his mind as his limited brainpower would allow, the rooster allowed himself to take another glancing hit, watching carefully as the pangolin Champion bounced off him before slightly changing directions in midair. That was the opening that he was waiting for. Activating his Athletics skill to its fullest, he raced after the living projectile, which once again disappeared into some thick brush. A moment later, the rooster performed a blind dodge just as the pangolin zoomed back out the other way, going far too fast to stop and aid its ally. As Charlemagne burst through the undergrowth into a small clearing and finally spotted the elusive gorilla, he felt nothing but satisfaction as the creature¡¯s eyes widened in fear. He used Strike to peck Benedict right in his flat nose, shattering the gorilla¡¯s facial bones and sending them flying like shrapnel through the creature¡¯s brain. The gorilla was dead before he hit the ground. Something glinted in Benedict¡¯s hand, which had a literal death grip on the object. Looking closer, Charlemagne saw that it was a string of some sort but couldn¡¯t figure out its purpose. The gorilla¡¯s hand twitched suddenly and the rooster lashed out instinctively, clawing through the primate¡¯s wrist. Once the tendons connecting it to the rest of the arm were cut, the hand relaxed, allowing the string to escape. Charlemagne turned to look for the pangolin Champion, determined to hunt it down, kill it, and then eat it. He reached out with his extra senses and was shocked to discover that the pangolin was already far away and still accelerating. There was no way he could catch it. Reluctantly giving up on the fleeing opponent, the rooster went to check on Francois. The gorilla was hurt worse than he had previously thought. Part of the gorilla¡¯s chest had been caved in and his jaw was clearly broken. Francois couldn¡¯t even close the bloody mess that was his mouth. His shallow breath and the pink foam clinging to his lips indicated that there was damage to the lungs. Charlemagne was certain that this level of injury would have slowed even him down for a while, especially if he didn¡¯t have a ready source of nutrients to augment his natural healing abilities. For a creature like Francois, such injuries were undoubtedly fatal. ¡°Did you get the traitor?¡± Francois wheezed, his mouth not really able to form the words but their intent coming across anyways. Charlemagne flapped his wings. ¡°Good. Good. Then there¡¯s just one more thing I need to, mon ami, to thank you for avenging me,¡± the gorilla added, loquacious even at death¡¯s door. ¡°Bring me my quiver. It¡¯s over there somewhere.¡± Charlemagne found the magical item and dutifully dragged it back to his first ever companion. The ape took the quiver and, sitting up as best he could, summoned five of the magical baguettes before dropped back to the ground, panting and looking worse than ever. ¡°That¡¯s¡­all I can do¡­¡± he groaned. ¡°Sorry, I wanted to¡­¡± Charlemagne found it rather fitting that the gorilla never managed to finish his last sentence, the pragmatic rooster noting that Francois had died exactly how he had lived, running his mouth. Charlemagne waited until he was certain that the gorilla had perished before moving on to the first item on his recently updated agenda: eating all five baguettes in one sitting, even though they didn¡¯t taste quite as good as he remembered. That done, he then moved on to his next priority: honoring Francois the only way that he knew how. This task took him quite a while, because the gorilla was enormous.