Battleforged
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Chapter 410 - Rescuing Freetown I
🕑 Added 2024-04-05 04:00:03 +0000 UTC
Congratulations! You are the first Contender in the Northeast Quadrant to achieve 500 Perception! You now enjoy a +40% Bonus (100% inclusive of all other modifiers) to all additional Perception points earned!
Congratulations! You are the first Contender in the Northeast Quadrant to achieve 500 Spiritual Energy! You now enjoy a +40% Bonus (100% inclusive of all other modifiers) to all additional Spiritual Energy points earned!
Congratulations! You have achieved Rank 10 in the spell: Psionic Rupture!
Journeyman Tier achieved! You now enjoy a permanent +3 to your Psionic Potential!
You may now choose to evolve your spell along multiple paths!
Potency – Because nothing says FUCK YOU to your foes like popping their skulls with the MIGHT of your WRATH! Enjoy a permanent +50% raw damage output, multiplicative with everything else, every time you unleash this spell! Of course you yourself will also suffer 50% more damage backlash, but with over 8000 Health, what’s a few more points of damage to assure that your enemy’s skulls ALWAYS explode with the essence of Wrath cutting through ALL resistance with your higher order attack sufficient even to kill your Mind Lord Half-brother! (Not that we’re actually going to admit the bio-part out loud, are we, hero? Fallen Seraphim blood alone (ha ha) fills your bloodthirsty veins! - Because remember… there IS no fight club! Only GLORIOUS skull popping explosions every time you unleash your FAVORITE SPELL!)
Grace – Sure! You can blast skulls and steel doors and one day tanks with your mind alone. But how about unleashing your deadliest attack with such grace that you don’t end up popping the poor skull of the hot elven chick you TOTALLY want to hook up with once you get back to Freetown? Because nothing says ‘I love you’ to the mother of your future ½ Elven, ¼ Seraphim, ¼ (CENSORED) babies than NOT popping mommy’s skull like an egg being smashed against a concrete wall every time you shout out your FAVORITE SPELL! (As an added bonus, you’ll stop taking catastrophic & near-unhealable damage from your own attack! Won’t that be nice?)
ADDITIONAL OPTIONS DETECTED
You have Achieved over 500 in Vitality!
You have achieved over 500 in Perception!
Vitality & Perception are in the top 1% of Terran Leaderboards!
Your Vitality & Perception are Ranked #1 Within your local quadrant!
Your Willpower is over 100!
You have forged a Half-step Silver Underlord with Rank 2 Essence of Impermeability.
You have survived a Mind Duel with a Bronze-tier Psionicist!
A UNIQUE ASCENSION PATH IS NOW OPEN TO YOU!
DENSE NEURONS. - You’re no genius. Far from it! As far as the Psionicist’s arts go, you UTTERLY lack the neuro clusters allowing most Psionicists, even base humans, to develop Psionic Counter Resonances that naturally appear in any Classer or Mortal with 20 or more in Psionic Potential!
What could one expect? You’re (supposedly) a half-elf!
HOWEVER you’re monstrous Vitality and unbreakable Willpower has given you the potential to be SO MUCH MORE than most Sylvan flotsam so commonly at the mercy of any and every Mind Lord! Thanks to your recent battle with a Mind Lord who died just heartbeats before he could CRUSH YOUR BRAIN, your 500 Perception allowed you to sense with exquisite clarity attacks emanating from the Psion Dimenson (so utterly different from the quasi-spiritual realms of charm, seduction, and horror Sylvans and Seraphims use to persuade, enrapture, or destroy the minds of their lovers and foes!)
Perhaps you didn’t focus on improving your Psionic Shout at all during your final boss-fight!
Perhaps your most recent struggle simply provided you the breakthrough needed to ascend in ways few elves could dream of, understanding with exquisite clarity just how to reinforce and enhance your Synaptic links to have just a SLIVER of Psion Resistance that ALL elves (normally) lack completely!
Though you will only receive a fraction of a fraction of the Physical and Mental resistance normally used to counter charms, enchantments, and physical abuse, and your defense will have nothing to do with your Psionic Potential, it will be SOMETHING. And that could make all the difference between Life, Death, and instant obliteration! NOTE – Your Psionic foes can STILL read (save for Phoenix Ring interference) your pathetically simplistic Sylvan mind. It’s just that your neurons are now so absurdly reinforced that they will find it at least a bit harder to destroy your brain than they otherwise would!
In the timeless moments that Eric found himself thrust from one dying pocket realm to a violently ascending territory, his mind flashed with a stream of interface messages that sent chills through his soul. He did his best to ignore the unusually spicy quips that his interface was giving him, pretty sure that was the price he had to pay, the existential dread of being forced to accept just what vile ichor might be crawling through his veins… the farthest thing from any casual hit & run midnight fling of his mothers. To think that he might actually be half—And none of that mattered in the least as he was presented with a possible evolution perk that could change absolutely EVERYTHING!
As much as a part of him was beyond eager to follow in his daughter’s footsteps and see just how absurdly Potent he could make his attacks, as much as another part of him was eager for the ability to unleash Fragor without having to worry about Elly’s safety, a strikingly capable and resilient woman who he was increasingly willing to accept that he found both hauntingly beautiful and utterly alluring, no matter that she was well over a century old. Even if it was just Sylvan instincts compelling him, he was so tired of being alone, so wanted someone he could hold and cherish and who, as a Bronze-tier Contender herself with 200+ Strength, was strong enough that he didn’t have to worry about her safety, should he surrender to his passions in her embrace...
It was the final option that called out to him like no other.
Even if it would do absolutely nothing to enhance or make any safer his one Psionic attack. Even if the boon he would gain would do absolutely nothing to enhance the shout itself… that didn’t matter. After being forced to endure feeling so vulnerable for so long against a Psionicist’s displeasure, fearing for so long in the back of his mind the Lythid menace that he was pretty damned sure had already overrun Gilton, turning his garden hydroponic sanctuary into Squid-abomination breeding grounds… knowing that one day he would have to face down those abominations, no matter how utterly vulnerable he was… a final Malice card to assure that whatever happened to Earth the elves sure as hell weren’t getting it… the idea of receiving any Psionic Defenses at all, even if it was just a tiny fraction of his other resistances, was still INFINITELY better than having no defense at all.
So it wasn’t a choice to ponder. The instant he was aware of the possibility, it had retroactively became his reality, his profound epiphany after feeling the HORROR of his half-brother coming so close to squeezing tight and OBLITERATING his terrifyingly vulnerable mind. It was in that instant that he felt a shiver of revelation, knowing EXACTLY how he had to strengthen his pathetically fragile synaptic links. His mind rapidly blossomed under countless insights and epiphanies as each and every precious neuron managed to reinforce themselves with a portion of his Physical and Mental resistances.
A fraction of a fraction that ended up being far more significant than even he had dared to hope.
Yet he had been shockingly foolish not to understand the inevitable consequences of his choice as he collapsed to the ground, screaming, silvery blood pouring from every orifice of his skull as his irises turned a fiery Silver hue, interface words lancing his brain as the system’s worm-like sapient threads slivered through every synaptic link of his neuromatrix and reforged him anew.
Evolution Successfully Embraced!
You have SAVED versus catastrophic neuronal cascade (with a little help from your friends!)
Your increasing mastery over Psionic forms normally alien to you tribe has borne fruit! After daring to take on a Mind Lord that could have so easily destroyed you, your mind now knows how to naturally adapt to extra-dimensional attacks that would otherwise assure your doom.
A counter-resonance shell will NEVER be within your purview!
But Neurons infused with Conceptio’s own Silbion filaments are now your own!
Rejoice! For this trait will now be lovingly passed to ALL your descendants, intricately woven with the System’s blessings for ALL TIME!
Every future phoenix blossoming from your loins to realms of Golden wonder will now bear the System’s GLORIOUS MARK! Allowing your fragile tribe to better weather life’s Psionic storms.
Your Psionic Resistance is now = to ¼ of your Physical Resistance + ¼ of your Mental Resistance.
You now have a natural Psionic Resistance of 58!
“Ernest! Are you alright? Ernest!”
It was long moments before the awful haze of disorientation, confusion, and the hideously awful feeling of cold silvery worms slithering through every facet of his quivering shrieking mind finally abated, leaving Eric feeling dazed, drunk, and filled with such horror.
It was long moments before he could even form a single cogent thought, taking scarce comfort that Elly’s shrieks were every bit as loud as his own.
It was only when he finally caught his breath, regained his senses as his fingers clawed and left deep furrows in the basalt that the last of his sobs died off.
“Ernest! Are you awake, buddy?” Lone’s concerned violet eyes met Eric’s own as he drew a shuddering breath, finally coming back to himself, gazing at the world through brand new eyes, noting that everything seemed clearer and sharper with his latest Perception breakthrough, forcing himself to focus on the simple feel of a thousand grains of sand caressing his flesh, the warm throbbing power of a physique so monstrously strong that his might was the equivalent of thirty Olympians and that his mind hardly felt like it had been devoured by millions of tingling silk worms squirming through every nook and cranny of his brain.
Instead he, focused on the absolutely wondrous, gloriously absurd number that he had never expected to see. Far beyond the painfully glaring Zero it had always been before.
His Psionic Resistance… he actually had it!
And if a single point of Physical resistance meant he could take a punch, and 20 points meant he could take a 9 millimeter bullet… If 30 points meant he could survive a shotgun slug or an orc musket ball fired at close range with only a bruise to show for it, and 100 points meant he could survive a 12-pounder cannonball with only a few ribs cracking…
He shook his head, tuning out Lone’s increasingly worried tone and the near catatonic state of half the party, allowing himself to savor for just a few precious glorious moments a number he had never expected to see. Never dreamed of seeing!
He would have been happy with a Psionic Resistance of 10. Outright ecstatic if it was all the way up to 20, praying it would be enough to allow him to survive at least non-focused Psionic Screams from low level squid brains who could otherwise pop his skull with a thought.
The number blaring across his interface was 58.
By some glorious miracle, thanks to granting him a full 1/4th of both Mental and Physical Resistance, as if both stats together were what was strengthening his neurons in a direct, physical sense… he now actually had a Psionic Resistance of 58!
He wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to laugh or cry.
For long moments, he just let his exhausted mind drift, feeling as if he had just run a marathon and barely had the energy to think… while simultaneously never having felt as strong, invigorated, and whole as he did right then.
Even if he simultaneously wanted to claw open his own skull and scrub clean his own brain.
Since that wasn’t really an option, he just closed his eyes and took slow, deep breaths. Focusing only on this moment, letting the absolute horror of what he had endured in what had objectively only been an eyeblink in time slowly fade away… focusing on his connection to the reality all around him.
The reality of his own existence.
He took desperate comfort in the tingle of the hard basalt slab covered in gritty sand, the warmth of the sun upon his shivering flesh… the glare of one of the very few members of his mercenary crew that were actually upright and functioning, not slumped over in an exhausted and stunned heap, just like him.
“Ernest! Snap out of it, bro. We need you!”
Eric groaned, suppressing a shudder as he stumbled to his feet. He caught Lone’s concerned gaze as the world started spinning, mustard yellow skies flipping places with basalt rock and he fought the overwhelming urge to hurl. Then, with a single lurched step and a deep breath of spice-scented air, it passed.
He blinked and swallowed, all his focus now on the anxious-looking man before him.
Despite his queasiness of a second before, it was all he could do not to grin, his body tingling with a sense of wellness, his muscles ripe with a sense of explosive power he didn’t think he had fully appreciated until that very moment.
And his mind… never had his thoughts felt so sharp, so clear!
So resilient. He shuddered, caught between the horrific epiphany of recalling in contrast how hideously vulnerable he had been just seconds ago… like a man in full plate missing only the chest piece to cover his heart racing into battle… and now that piece was finally intact, right where it belonged! The transient flaw of a fiery phoenix that had no fleshly vulnerability, or a 4-Dimensonal Seraphim whose natural form transcended any such flaws at all… but Aurelia compressed in a mortal shell had indeed been so horrifically vulnerable to that one branch of overlapping forces and fields… a vulnerability she had passed to all her children, playing so many cards of fate and folly to assure no Mindlord would hunt down such easy prey over who knew how many ascensions.
Until this one.
The final one.
The crucible of her ascension….
The killing fields of the demon lord so eager to destroy all her progeny, save for the tools he’d used so ruthlessly in his attempts to ascend to heaven.
Before being foiled at the very end.
And now Earth had been infested with Squid-brains and Psionic Classers in at least a few discreet pockets Eric damn well knew he’d have to face down sooner or later.
Because as weak and vulnerable as he still felt, against those foes, his sister’s entire faction had absolutely no defense at all.
It was for that reason and that reason alone that Eric told himself that he was okay with what had been done to him, his body and mind and very DNA infused with the blessing of an AI that Eric was both grateful for and absolutely terrified of, forced to wonder if he was even himself at all.
The air cracked with the sound of snapping fingers as Captain Bennett was suddenly in his face, intent no-nonsense violet eyes gazing into Eric’s own.
“Ernest, you got yourself together? Because half my crew is out, our ATV is ruined, and the windstorm has never been worse!”
That alone jolted Eric out of his stupor. “Elly, is she okay?” He gazed about even as he said the words, earning a snort from the captain.
“Worried about my ace-sniper? Good. Because whatever the hell happened hit her hard and the sooner we can finish this mession and get out of here… the better.”
Eric tensed up at those words, shaking off the last of his dazed horror, already fading away like a dream as he snapped his focus into the here-and-now. “Details.”
The captain gazed at Eric for long moments, his expression utterly unreadable. “Did you know?”
“Know what?”
The increasing weight of Bennett’s gaze brought a flush to Eric’s cheeks, suddenly recalling some of the final cheerful interface lines flickering across his mind’s eye before he had been overwhelmed by an utterly brutal transformation of his own.
Yet the captain’s only answer was to turn to Lone. “Status?”
“Elly’s still unresponsive. Svena, Myl, and Naje are out cold.”
Eric’s stomach twisted at those words.
Bennett gave Eric a measuring look. “Are you ready for us to head back to Freetown?”
“Absolutely, though I think we need to be careful. Because clearly the Bloodtear Syndicate’s not above pulling out all the stops, and for all we know, used every last credit they could beg, buy, or borrow to hire additional mercenary companies to bar our way back.”
Lone chuckled. “That’s exactly what the captain said just five minutes ago, while you were frothing on the ground.”
Eric blinked. “Seriously? I was frothing?”
“And kicking your heels, screaming like your soul was on fire. But we knew better than to get too close. You see all the cracked stone you were cratered in the center of? Yeah. That was you, buddy. Besides, the interface said you were in perfect health. Never better, in fact, so we left you well enough alone. Don’t worry, though. Our power armor protected us from the shrapnel.”
Eric winced, deliberately not looking back at the crater of shattered rubble he had stumbled out of during his still dizzy moments. Instead, he looked at the prone figures Lone was tending over. “System says everyone’s fine,” Eric cautiously noted.
“Yup, that it does. Even if Elly’s catatonic and the others won’t wake up.” Lone gave a tired sigh, flashing Eric a rueful smile. “I don’t suppose you can get the monstrous World Eater coiled up in a dome all a round us to unslither and give us all a ride to Freetown?”
Eric felt an unexpected ache in his chest, jogging over to Elly’s side. “Elly, are you with us? We’re going to be heading to Freetown now, okay?” He swallowed, gazing down into Emerald green eyes leaking tears before gently patting her hand.
“She’s been like that since I woke up,” Lone said, his own gaze filled with an odd mixture of concern and wonder. “It’s the oddest thing. I don’t even remember stumbling out of that delve. It now feels no more real than a dream, despite the priceless prize of a T-3 minigun that will actually work in a delve! But what I feel so viscerally is that now, well, like anything’s possible.”
Eric turned to the man, meeting his intent gaze. “It sounds like you had a breakthrough of sorts.”
Lone blinked, exchanging a look with the captain, before turning back to Eric. “Yeah, Ernest, it does.”
He tilted his head thoughtfully as Eric patted the side of his Titan Wyrm and the massive giant slowly and carefully began to unwind and submerge into the rock that parted like water for it. Of course that cost them their shelter as the glaring light and howling winds washed over them once more.
In less than a minute, the wyrm had slid its massive body so that only its apex where the bone seats and reinforced recliners were located was above ground, and in less than a minute, Eric had his sleeping and comatose friends secure once more, though he took an extra minute to gently squeeze Elly’s hand before wrapping a thin strip of cloth over her eyes to protect them from the glare.
He then took a deep breath, daring to laugh with wonder as his half-step Silver Underlord raised its head high, giving Eric a magnificent view of the surrounding desert, despite the howling winds.
“Ernest…”
Eric turned around, smiling at the captain. “Eric’s fine, remember?”
The man snorted. “Sure. Any reason why you’re not calming these winds?”
Eric nodded. “Actually yes. It’s like Elly said. The desert sands cut down visibility so much that any goblin spotter lacking a reinforced vehicle, your power armor, or my resilience will find themselves sporting mana burns if they’re not stripped of flesh entirely.”
“Sure. But like Riz, may he rest in piece said, it does hell on our equipment!”
Eric couldn’t help but smile at that. “Really? Tell me, Captain, did you change out of your enchanted Power Armor now bound to your Mana Pool the second you slipped free of the portal, or are you still wearing it?”
Bennett’s eyes widened. He exchanged a look with Lone. “Shit. We didn’t”
Eric’s grin widened. “And I’d be more than a bit surprised if spicy mana-rich sands is doing jack shit to what are, after all, delve derived arcane treasures. But if I’m wrong? Tell me.”
This earned a pair of scowls, but it was obvious from their expressions that whatever they were looking at, the results surprised them. “Fuck, captain. He’s right! My armor’s still at 100% Hell, my mana reserves aren’t even being touched! It’s like it’s running happily on the ethereal mana alone!”
“That’s impossible,” the captain grumbled.
“Not if it’s magic, am I right?” Eric flashed a cheeky smile. “Even better, we both know what will happen to anyone looking to intercept us at this point, don’t we?”
Lone chuckled approvingly. “Fucker’s ATV’s will be breaking down hella fast. And as long as your mount quits making those bone jarring thrumming calls it favors, our foes won’t be able to track shit!”
“Not visually,” Bennett agreed. “But if they have the right vibration sensors…”
“Which they don’t, captain. I’d bet money on it. No more than we did.”
Eric smiled in approval of the man’s insights, quietly instructing his mount to keep it’s excited cries with the sheer joy of LIFE as it flowed effortlessly through seas of sand and stone at a far softer decibel, Eric and Wormy both reveling in the feel of the sun upon its massive scales and the delightful tingle of wild magic in the air.
Eric took a deep breath and laughed for sheer joy at the wonder of it all, before looking back with a worried smile for his still comatose friends, though he felt a fierce surge of relief to see Elly’s smile now matching his own, her blindfold removed, finally awake in full.
Her chuckle matched his own as she sprung from her seat, stretched, and sauntered over to where he stood on his mount. “I feel like I’m waking from a nightmare into a glorious dream,” her soft voice whispered into his ear, sending a delightful shiver down his spine. When Eric felt her hand slip into his own, he couldn’t help but grin. It felt like the most natural thing in the world.
He turned to gaze into beautiful emerald green eyes, her power armor face plate lowered, allowing her strawberry blond curls to whip freely in the howling wind.
Eric’s smile matched her own. “Morning, beautiful,” he quipped.
So she leaned over and kissed him, filling him with a warmth and hunger that he refused to deny or regret. His heart started to race, happy to ignore the cheers of their companions, savoring her lavender scent, and the spicy aroma of so much more.
Yet the kiss was awkward as hell in her battle armor. But before he could break away with a chuckle the barrier between them was gone and it was the warmth of her skin-tight mesh-suit was suddenly against his mithril mail. And the way she laughed at his look of surprise as she hooked his ankle and fell on top of them was priceless. Fortunately, the massive width of Eric’s mount and their superhuman Finesse meant that they were in no danger of falling off, though Eric let loose of husky groan, not giving a crap that they were very much on display, so desperately hungry for the striking Sylvan beauty with high cheekbones, pouty lips, and a hungry smile as she gazed down at him with bedroom eyes. “I want you, Ernest Slaughter.”
Eric swallowed, heart pounding. “Me too.”
She snorted at that. “So take off your clothes and make love to me.”
“In front of everyone?”
She chuckled throatily. “Is that a problem?”
Eric’s wicked smile met her own as a half dozen velociraptors suddenly leaped onto Wormy, forming a discrete barrier between a snorting Captain, chuckling lone, and Eric and the girl he was suddenly so hungry for that he had no words.
Just lips to quench her husky chuckle, and mithril armaments and skin suit that desperate fingers pulled himself free of and into the care of a raptor playing gracious butler, keeping Eric’s priceless treasures that he could no longer internally store safe.
This earned a throaty chuckle even as Eric’s eyes widened with sudden worry, finally thinking past the fog of passions so long denied. “Elly, the wild mana spice!”
Before he could say another word, she bit his lip and dove in for a passionate kiss, parting for air long seconds later, with her mischievous hands wrapped around a prize of a different sort. “Healed.”
Eric’s eyes widened at those words, tender hands brushing her cheek. “Elly. Your Mana Channels! Are you saying what I think you’re—”
She cut off his words with a kiss, fierce and savage and desperately hungry as she guided Eric to blissful warmth that filled him with a joy so sharp and profound that he cried out in her arms.
“Healed. Thanks to you, Ernest. I’m free of pain. For the first time in decades, I’m free of pain! And my magic. It’s back. All of it! Healed as if that magebane dagger had never struck me, a Bronze Tier monster had never doomed me, a greater ritual hadn’t ruptured at the worst possible moment. As if that trifecta of grief and pain had never happened. I’m healed, Eric,” she sobbed even as Eric shuddered with desperate need.
“I’m whole again. Myself again. And I know… you don’t have to say a word, but I know it’s because of you. You sweet, beautiful, glorious Contender, pulling miracles out of your pants and saving us, restoring us, redeeming us...”
Her eyes, now taking up his world, locked with his own. “Claiming us. Giving us what we so desperately needed. Now prove to me just how much of a hero you are, Ernest Slaughter. This elven maiden needs you desperately, so don’t you dare let her down!”
Her throaty chuckle turned to a gasp and a cry of sweetest bliss as Eric did his absolute best to show her just what he was capable of.
***
Eric allowed himself to drift off in sweetest bliss. Hugged by a bed of soft mesh suits, wrapped in the arms of a beautiful woman singing a soft melody as she stroked his thick crimson locks, smiling as he felt her soft fingertips stroke his chest before feather-light lips caressed his own.
Twinkling green eyes filled with a mischievous smile made him grin in turn.
“Thank you for rescuing this damsel, gracious hero.”
“Any time,” Eric grinned back, kissing her softly in turn as he wrapped her in his arms and held her close, blinking away an unexpected tear even as he felt his heart melt with warmth, which was absurd. This girl was a nearly two centuries-old mercenary, a Bronze-tier Classer, and fellow Contender who had fought on countless battlefields and certainly didn’t need his goofy 19-year-old ass playing protector. Even if she hummed happily and seemed to melt in his arms, as if enjoying his touch, his protective embrace.
“Thank you for that,” she said huskily, before swallowing and giving a laugh that sounded almost like a sob. “No… I mean… thank you for everything.”
Eric kissed the nape of her neck. “Please, just call me Eric.”
“Because that’s your real name?”
Eric swallowed, suppressing the sudden spike of dread he felt, gazing into her suddenly serious eyes, knowing that it was very important, the choice he would make right now would determine whether this was a one-time fling… or perhaps so much more.
Yet knowing how complex the System truly was… how precarious a dance he walked with so many enemies playing spiritual cards filled with such malice and spite… he knew he had to tread his words very carefully… without breaking this beautiful elven girl’s heart.
Her expectant grin turned to a wistful smile. But before she could slip free of his embrace, he winked and whispered in her ear. “Not as far as the Leaderboards are concerned. And the wise hero wears a cape he only slips off for the ones worthy of his heart.”
Elly chuckled. “And am I one of those worthy—” Her eyes widened, suddenly get it. “Fuck, that’s right! The leaderboards can’t be fooled, can they? And with those bounties on you head…” Her cheeks flushed, she lowered her gaze, which pulled Eric’s eyes to luscious prizes far beyond the bounty on his head.
“I’m a fool. Forgive me… Ernest. I, of all people should know better than to pry into—”
Her words cut off when Eric’s hungry lips met her own, the gentle spooning they had savored quickly turning to a different sort of caress.
“It’s okay,” he whispered huskily. “I’m betting there’s a way you can make it up to me.”
She gave a throaty chuckle and proceeded to do just that. And if a recently woken up and fully recovered Svena, her missing spleen and maimed injuries having miraculously healed, could be heard chuckling behind them, it was behind a wall of patient terror birds dutifully guarding Elly’s honor. So Eric decided he had far more important things to worry about. Like giving Elly as much happiness as he possibly could in the precious time they could savor together before things got deadly serious once more.
“So what happens now?” Elly asked as she held him close, winding her fingers through his hair, her wearing her skin-suit and he fully kitted for battle once more. Fortunately the crimson mithril was now clean of scent and gore and the exquisitely constructed mail was as comfortable as armor got, so Elly could hug him almost as well as she could a few minutes before, when their hugs had been so much more.
Eric smiled and leaned into Elly’s touch. “Now, we figure out the best way to slip past any more Bronze tier mercenaries without having to make it a slaughter fest, and I do my best to keep Freetown City truly free against all those eager to steel its fortunes and grind its people to dust.”
Elly sighed, kissing his cheek as she leaned her chin against his shoulder. “It will be dangerous, Eric. The bounties being offered… the Bloodtear Faction has already enticed multiple companies that just signed on. That much Bennett could spot just by keeping an eye on the channels open to all of us Bronze mercenaries.”
Eric dipped his head, his gaze never wavering from the windswept horizon that his 500 plus points in a Unified Perception allowed him to see far clearer than most.
“Any idea about their number, loadouts, and power levels?”
“Captain?”
The clearly visible Bennett snorted, the pterodactyl decency squad having gone back to their patrol beside their Underlord. “We’re ready to get back to work then? Fine.”
Eric smirked at that. All of them agreeing to pretend that Svena and Bennett hadn’t been equally busy as the other guys pretended to nap.
His voice turned serious. “I see two major mercenary companies and… crap… seven smaller ones have all green-lit Bloodtear’s open-ended contract for a hundred thousand retainer. There’s a significant bonus just to make and report a sighting, so they aren’t all necessarily looking to make a kill. But with Blackthorn and Red Reavers in the mix… yeah. The big boys aren’t doing this for small retainers, they’re in it to score. From what I recall, both groups have fifty plus members, at least half a dozen of which will be elite, like ourselves.”
Eric nodded. “Small fry scouting just trying to make a buck, and two major groups, each with half a dozen core members that we gotta watch for who will be shooting to kill. Any way I can differentiate how they ping on my Dominion Interface Map? I’d rather not be killing innocent local classers just trying to level up and make some money who are in way over their heads.”
Elly flinched at those words.
Eric looked back at her in sudden concern. “Elly?”
Elly gave Eric a strangely sympathetic smile, darting in for a kiss and tousling his hair after exchanging a look with Bennett. “Don’t worry about it, hero. But no. From my Contender days… unless you declare war against those specific companies… there’s no good way to distinguish them on our CIMs.”
“CIMs?”
Elly smirked. “Contender Interface Maps. Sorry, Eric. War is a bloody thing. It always is, it always was. And if you try to hold back too much…”
Eric sighed. “I know. If you don’t fight with ruthless zeal, all your good intentions and ideals will be bloody topsoil for the crops grown by ruthless psychopaths far crueller than you. You have to be ruthless during war and gracious during times of peace, or all the idealism in the world won’t save your realm.”
Elly gave him an odd look, before quirking a smile. “So you are a student of history, then!”
Eric blinked at that. “How so?”
“It’s one of Aurelia Silver’s most quoted phrases, at least among the worlds… our worlds… that comprise the Sylvan Alliance. We recognize her as the mother of our race. Her empire is our own, her lessons taught in Sylvan military academies to this day.”
Her soft husky voice sent shivers down Eric’s soul. It was all he could do not to claim her, again, right then and there. And the quirk to her luscious rose-colored lips made it clear that she could sense his hunger. Teasing eyes daring him to do just that. Then she furrowed her pretty brow. “But Earth has been in ascension for just over a year… right?” She shook her head in sudden confusion. “Somehow it feels longer… so much longer… anyway, how do you know the phrase?”
Eric shrugged. “It’s just something my old trainer used to say.”
She blinked. “You had a trainer?”
Eric nodded. “My mother’s boyfriend, actually. But he was a great fencer and a fair tactician, or at least had charming English airs and caught my mother’s fancy and somehow became my almost full-time trainer to whip me into shape for a movie that never did hit the big screen.”
Elly’s eyes widened with delight. “Oh, your family was into performances? Wonderful! I would love to watch any recordings you might have.”
Eric smirked. “Sadly, Earth’s tech only counted for a limited number of forces and fields of reality, and both computational science and all electronics pretty much crapped out when magic came fully online, back when all this started.”
“But Blue Corp is wonderful at archiving media from all sorts of technological paradigms and copying it in usable formats for entertainment, posterity, and research.”
Eric chuckled. “Well then, I’ll have to see if I can commission a bunch of my sister’s films.” His eyes then widened. “Hell, I should have had that commissioned months ago! Once I found out we could save Super Punch Man… I should have made that a priority with Caliban.”
“There you go, name-dropping again!” Snarked Svena.
“You know you love it,” Eric quipped.
“Not as much as I do,” Elly teased. So Eric kissed her, and got distracted all over again.
“Enough!” Bennett snapped, some time later. “We’re less than two miles out. We need a plan.”
Eric pulled himself from lips promising paradise, but not before squeezing Elly’s hand. “When all this is over, you have to let me take you to my favorite restaurant in Freetown.”
Elly’s eyes widened. A slow flush crawled up her cheeks. “I would love that,” she said softly.
“Elly…”
“Sorry, Captain.” She turned to Eric, her mana-linked power armor suddenly encasing her form, her gaze that of a professional once more. “I think we need to take this seriously, lover. But it’s definitely a date.”
Eric nodded. “I agree,” he said, furrowing his brow as he pulled up his Dominion Interface Map, gazing thoughtfully at what it displayed. “I wouldn’t be surprised if there are all sorts of ugly surprises that will spring up on my map the minute we cross territories. So, I say we avoid them altogether.”
Elly smirked. “A lovely option. So how do we do that, hero?”
Eric grinned. “By not exiting from this territory at all.”
This earned a confused stare.
Eric grinned. “Look, instead of going up North, how about we go west, cross into the neighboring territory, then head north, then east. We’ll enter Freetown territory from it’s northwest side, where hopefully no one’s expecting us.”
Bennett frowned thoughtfully, before his craggy face broke in a hard, approving smile. “I like it. Even if it means we’re ascending up a half mile-high plateau we have absolutely no data on, it’s the last place anyone would expect us to be coming from.
Eric’s smile was tinged with a sudden seed of doubt. “Wait… so no one has any idea what that territory holds at all?”
Bennett chuckled coldly, eyes twinkling in challenge. “Not a damned clue.”
Eric sighed, closed his eyes, and focused on his Dominion Map Interface, before he lurched upright with a hiss. “Fuck!”
“Problem?”
“Hell yeah, there’s a problem!” Eric swallowed his suddenly parched throat, pointing up at the star-filled sky. “I’ve just been informed that if I don't make it back by the stroke of midnight, any claim I have to my assets in Freetown are nul and void.”
Chapter 411 - Rescuing Freetown II
Comments
Joe K
His mom evolved to be a Seraphim when she ascended to gold tier, as did Eric. I'm assuming that's retroactively part of his bloodline due to his mom's Ascension now being locked into the current time line's history.
Daniel
Seraphim? Where did THAT come from and what caused it to be brought up now? Also, is he no longer human at all now? Where does the necromancy comes from, then? Goblin?
Antony Haynes
Many of the beats on this get-the-gold-to-Freetown arc mirror the prior one... even with the time deadline. Not sure why Eric would forfeit his assets--those should exist outside the banking contract. Right?
Goldfish2
Bruh.
Silver Beard
I'm not sure it matters much. There'll always be something else outstanding or in the way of being able to deliver even if he arrives timely.
Trevayne
Looking forward to seeing how Eric & Co make lemonade out of this particular lemon. Assuming he can bring his under lord sandworm with them, why not just shape a pocket on the worm's back that can hold the APC hull and make the rest of the trip underground?
