MillennialMage
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[CYA] Chapter 95: Chipping Away
🕑 Added 2025-10-28 12:00:14 +0000 UTCNOTE:
Patreon does not like formatting/different 'alignments' of paragraphs that help make this fiction what it is.
Because of that, I will always be providing a link the google doc for each chapter where you can see it properly formatted. Elsewise, feel free to read the chapter here, if that is your preference.
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https://docs.google.com/document/d/1D5Zz0KsL8hz97cZujOOC_2CuipsFveiKXxGY37uRfVM/edit?usp=drivesdk
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<Alex, Real - Endure, High School Cafeteria>
Alex was halfway to the door when Kaylee cleared her throat, drawing him up short and causing him to turn around to regard her. “Hmm?”
Her face was a picture of amused exasperation. “The clear boxes? You need to open them for people. Remember?”
Alex grimaced. “Right.” He looked back out the door, seeing the people waiting just outside. “I only have a few more hours of light though…” He smiled, suddenly having an idea. “Can you arrange the sets—or better yet gather them all up together—and I’ll do them once it’s dark? I think that will be the most efficient use of my time.”
She opened her mouth—her expression clearly conveying her intention to object—but then she hesitated, obviously considering his words. Finally, she nodded. “Very well. That does make some sense.”
“Thank you.” Then, since he was already paused, he glanced toward Natasha. “What are you going to do with your old spear?”
She frowned for but a moment before giving a slow nod of her own. “Right, because you used some of your life to repair it.”
He smiled. “Some of my Life, but yes.”
She raised an eyebrow but didn’t press. “A backup would be nice, but I have no objection with giving it to you.”
It was Alex’s turn to nod. “Thank you. Let me know what I can do to repay you. The spear is far from worthless.”
“I’ll do that.” And the smile she gave him was practically predatory.
I hope that I don’t regret that…
Natasha grabbed the spear where it had been leaning against the wall to one side and held it out to Alex.
This one was a bit longer than her new one at around four feet. Unfortunately, that meant that it would be a pain to put in his Inventory if he could do it at all.
Angles, Alex. Hypotenuse, and all that. It’d fit. But he didn’t want it to. He didn’t even need it to fit.
He frowned as he looked at the weapon, contemplating breaking it, or cutting the thing down. After all, he only needed the metal head that he’d repaired. Then, as he examined it, he noticed that a heavy pin was all that held the head on the shaft.
With a shrug, he touched the pin and sent destructive health through that relatively small bit of metal. As it was not alive and had never been, his health was incredibly efficient in its work. His command and control of the spell kept it from spilling over into the shaft or head. A bit of metal dust fell out of the newly exposed hole, and Alex grinned.
He pulled the head into his Inventory and held the shaft out to Natasha. “In case you can find a use for it.”
She accepted it gratefully, and that was that.
It was then, of course, when the dinner bell rang, and people started pouring in.
Alex sighed and quickly hurried to grab his food. Then, finally, he was able to head toward the walls, eating as he walked.
<Alex, Real - Endure, High School Perimeter>
Alex’s venture into the undead beyond their ‘impenetrable’ defenses, almost ended in disaster at the first moment.
He dropped down, landing lightly on his feet with a grin, his dadao coming into his hands even as he swung with all his might to cleave an undead in half… with his greatly increased Power and Agility.
His increased grip strength almost allowed him to keep a hold of the weapon as it practically whipped through the air, the tip whistling due to a small burr in the metal near the tip that he hadn’t noticed before.
Regardless, no sooner had his blade blown entirely through his first target than the sheer centripetal force of his swing ripped the weapon from his hands, sending it rocketing in a straight light directly into the chest of another fodder varient… twenty feet away… on the other side of the loose gathering of opponents, all slowly orienting on him.
“Oh… stale triscuits…”
What followed was a mad scramble through the blessedly slow undead during which he put his vastly increased Agility—both Mental and Physical—to the test, evading and navigating where he never could have before the boost in power. It honestly helped him adjust to those changes, even if he would not recommend the method if asked.
A small voice in the back of his mind had almost convinced him to simply attempt to leap over the intervening enemies to retrieve his weapon, but as he didn’t know how high or far he could jump, that seemed like an incredibly foolish maneuver. Otherwise put, his Mental Fortitude was high enough to resist the urge to make another mistake.
That almost derailed his thoughts as he considered whether or not having imbalanced stats would affect his thinking, but as he was keeping as balanced as he could… within reason… he didn’t think it really mattered, and it certainly didn’t matter at that particular moment.
While he was moving and dodging on instinct—having to struggle to keep from over reacting to his Danger Sense’s warnings with his newly powerful body—he had time to realize why this was different from simply walking around the base.
Within the base, he was moving as he always did, his body naturally regulating his strength to simply walk. After all, his entire life had been spent walking without using his full strength for each movement. Doing that was natural.
Fighting though? He was almost always trying to push up against the edges of his ability. True, he tried not to over extend or over balance, but generally speaking, he was much closer to his maximum potential when fighting than when walking, and that didn’t even factor in the relative newness of combat—he didn’t count sparring back when he did martial arts—when compared to walking and other mundane tasks.
Therefore, he should have expected the difficulty here, if he experienced it anywhere.
All told, it took him nearly two minutes to draw the enemies after him and away from his weapon—still embedded in the fallen, twitching undead’s chest—so that he could then make his way around and through the fringes to reach said weapon.
When he arrived, the enemy still wasn’t fully dead, so he ripped his dadao free and beheaded it.
He didn’t get a notification for the kill, but that was fine. He didn’t want to clear out the undead yet. He wanted to train, his erstwhile predicament only serving to highlight that fact.
Alright, then. Let’s get to work.
Without further delay, he got to it, working to control and properly utilize his new stats while leaning entirely on his skills, trying to open himself up not only to what they were capable of doing in the moment, but to what they might be able to do in the future.
It was an invaluable opportunity as he laid into the undead around himself.
If he didn’t dust them, they eventually pulled themselves back together—to one extent or other—to come after him yet again. Because of that, Alex was effectively able to slowly modify the difficulty he faced through how he crippled his foes, how loud he was to draw in more, and how many he ashed.
All told, it had been a very productive couple of hours, despite earning effectively no experience. That effectiveness of training was to be expected, actually. He was beginning to suspect that advancing skills was as important, if not moreso, than gaining levels. Though, he had to admit, the stats he’d gained from his most recent increase had made this whole process monumentally easier.
He fought at one of the corners, where two streets came together at their defenses, and the wall-like construct cut diagonally from corner to corner, leaving a much larger space in front of it in which to fight, and two right-angle streets from which to draw enemies.
He occasionally had spectators, mainly Natasha, but some of the other spear users also came by for short bits.
Alex himself got bit occasionally, scratched often, and knocked down every once in a while. Even so, his absolutely broken health regeneration had him topped off and working on recovering his Life faster than he could really believe.
He didn’t even get notifications about resisting turning plagues anymore.
Regardless, he fought, he won, he failed, he learned.
When the next meal bell rang, he was actually starting to feel a bit exhausted, and as such, he took the excuse to call it a rest.
He hadn’t actually improved any of his skills, nor had he leveled up—not even close—but he felt more in sync with his weapons, skill, spells, and newly strengthened body.
Natasha and one of the male spear users each cast a Force shield for him to jump up off of, and so he gained the wall with relative ease.
He suspected that he could have simply leapt to the top—or at least high enough to catch the top so he could have pulled himself up—but with the undead trying to grab onto him, and the uncertainty of exactly how well it would work, he was grateful for another option.
He smiled before verbally thanking the two, receiving acknowledgement in response.
He was about to inquire why they were there, but then he saw something strapped to another of the men’s arms, and the sight drew him up short.
It was obviously a shield, but it was just as obviously unlike any he’d seen depicted in fiction or media before the System. It was a long oval, about a third longer than from his elbow to his extended finger tips. It had a perpendicular curve to it along the short axis, and straps behind to secure it to the forearm and palm, while leaving the fingers free to grip. The outward side of the oval was narrowed into a blunt, reinforced point that would be perfect for caving in an undead skull.
As to how Alex saw the strapping on the back? He was holding the shield and moving it around to inspect it before he even realized he’d moved.
The poor man who was wearing it was protesting and even resisting, but Alex had just been powering through the clearly non-Physical Strength focused fighter.
Natasha patted Alex on the shoulder. “Let go.”
Alex froze, doing just that and stepping back. “My apologies… I should have asked first.” He grimaced. “This is no excuse, but it seems that my increased Mental Power, is causing a higher degree of tunnel vision in some circumstances. I think that contributed to my actions, though it does not excuse them.”
The man grunted, rubbing a bit at his arm before sighing. “It’s… fine. I can appreciate your interest in my shield. It also shows me that I really should up my Physical Power, not just Agility.”
Alex smiled at that, deciding to move on. “So… Where did you get that?”
The other man grinned, clearly proud. “Made it.”
Alex hesitated. “When?”
The other man’s grin grew. “I made it here, since we arrived. The wood shop here has quite a few magical tools that make the process much easier and faster than I’m used to.”
Alex glanced toward Natasha and found her grinning. “What?”
She chuckled. “Just ask him.”
He turned back, seeing no reason to argue as he followed her suggestion. “Can I get one?”
The man shook his head and laughed too. “Yeah, yeah. I’m making a few, and it makes sense for you to have at least one.”
There was a slight hesitancy to the man’s words, and it was odd enough that it jostled Alex just that little bit more out of his thinking. “Oh! I apologize. I’m Alex.” He extended his hand. “What was your name?”
The man gave a rueful grin. “I know who you are. I’m Chip.” He shook Alex’s hand. “And before you ask, no, it’s not a nickname. Yes, I was named after the teacup. Joke all you want, I’ve heard them all before.”
Alex chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind. But hey, that’s better than some other sources for the name.”
Chip grimace slightly. “Yeah… I’ve heard all those jokes before too.”
“Still, that’s got to have quite the story behind it.”
Chip shrugged. “Not really. Mom just liked the movie, and she didn’t think naming me ‘Beast’ would have been taken well.”
Alex frowned in thought, assessing the man. He was clearly at least a bit younger than Alex, himself, so the timeline added up. It would also be an odd thing to lie about… not that it really mattered one way or another. “Well, nice to meet you, Chip.”
“You as well, Alex.”
Alex waited for a moment, then glanced back at the man’s arm. “Now… the shield?”
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