Battleforged
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Chapter 407 - Treasure Hunt IX
🕑 Added 2024-03-25 03:59:02 +0000 UTCEric stiffened before the gate, near hypnotized by the pearlescent sheen of glittering stars, the chilling sight of endless blackness as the odd liquid medium that was a portal to a pocket realm—or perhaps a simple state of living dream—continued to twist and writhe and scream subsonic reverberations as Eric realized to his growing horror that he had been wrong.
There weren’t multiple delves within this territory. Just spikes of growing hot zones, as Bennett put it, the entire region at risk of catastrophically evolving from red to black in what would have only been a handful of days from orange. Yet in this timeline, in this version of reality after a galaxy-defying Silver Phoenix had been in play, which, now that he thought about it, had amounted to a divine tier artifact of impossibility and had been incalculably more powerful than any actual Silver-tier monster, this red-tier pustule of barren deserts, eerie swamps, howling winds and shrieking souls had been here for countless years. An ascension that had somehow just begun yet had always been… warping and twisting reality as he understood it in so many ways.
Yet beyond all those terrifying fluctuations which pointed at beast tides washing over the entire continent before the decade was out, if drastic steps weren’t taken… the only actual delve in this territory was the one before him.
The portal continued to warp and twist, revealing glimmers of wonder as miraculous impossibilities of living dream manifested in all their pristine glory before being transformed to hideous abominations, liquid shrieks and razor sharp screams tearing against Eric’s shivering soul, promising such monstrous malevolence, countless lifetimes worth of despair bubbling up from the cracks of oblivion as if they would reach out and consume him...
Before snapping back to himself as Bennett approached, the man’s steel-covered gauntlet gently clapping Eric’s mithril-covered shoulder.
“We’re ready, Eric. You still want to be point man?”
Eric frowned and rubbed his eyes, realizing that the horror before him was just a gate, guilty of nothing more than catching the mustard yellow light filtering from the clouds high above.
Eric turned to get a look at what would be his delving companions. Unlike their nearly identical suits of power armor, all three of them were now kitted up in custom fit armaments of wildly contrasting forms and styles… bespoke masterworks of steel, tungsten, and bronze, including expertly crafted chest pieces, lamellar hauberks, and shirts of plate and mail, every individually crafted piece radiating potent runes and wards. Their armor was absolutely exquisite, breathtaking in their arcane construction. And of course, not a single one of them was rocking any high-tech electromana gear at all.
Eric couldn’t help but grin. “That’s right. Power-armored badassery is a late stage advancement, right? For most of your adventuring careers, you all were warrior types or battle mages, I’m guessing? So how could you not have had your fill of selecting, finding, and forging some pretty badass armor out of epic beast hides or enchanted steel and the like. Am I right? And those polearms!”
He couldn’t help but dip his head, admiring the halberd, naginata, and glaive.
“Gotta admit, I like the look!”
Bennett smirked, turning to exchange grim smiles with his companions, all of them wearing variants of barbute helms allowing for maximum environmental awareness while being damn good protection against anything but a perfect spear thrust to the mouth or eyes. Not at all an easy feat, and thus it was perfect protection against any beasty or ambush critter where Perception was key to survival.
“It’s been awhile, hasn’t it? But I can’t say that I haven’t missed the opportunity to earn some ‘hands on’ experience.”
“Right on, Captain!” Agreed Lone with his glaive raised in approval, both of them turning to the elf smiling so brightly, her tears causing her emerald green eyes to positively glisten.
“Elly?” Lone asked with soft concern.
Her smile grew. “This feels absolutely grand. Come. Few things in life are sweeter than first clears and the wondrous boon of attribute points they bring. Especially to those who have bottlenecked… and few things are more likely to help us break through.”
The four shared a look then, three pairs of eyes dancing with barely concealed excitement, and one filled with definite reservations. Yet Eric didn’t hesitate to match them step for step as they reaffirmed their party link and stepped through.
***
“What the hell is this place?” Lone scowled at the decrepit cobblestone city streets of the Freetown Eric knew all too well, the distant bellows of orcs, cackles of hyena-like gnolls, and outright roars of ogres making it clear exactly what period of reality this delve was echoing. And it didn’t even matter that those humanoids themselves were threats that Eric thought he understood. It was everything else that sent his guts churning with anxiety.
“Poorly constructed houses of stone, brick, and wood, traces of crude electromana steamworks and the smell of ash, soot, feces and blood,” Elly noted with a cool detachment. “A cross between renaissance and steampunk era manifestations of a fantasy configuration. I would expect our foes to be armed with low tech. We should be well-matched for the threat,” Elly opined. Her earlier show of excitement and wonder had been replaced with the cool professionalism worthy of any competent mercenary or Blue Corp officer.
“Good,” Garrett said. “The standard formation should be in order. Elly to my left, Lone to my right.
He then turned to Eric. “Preference, Ernest?”
Eric forced a grin. “Eric is fine, so long as we’re not in a formal setting, like, say, under goblin gazes or signing contracts. As for preferences? Yeah. You guys might want to pull out your force shields and vibro blades.”
Garrett frowned. “Please explain.”
Eric sighed, glaring down the central boulevard and the many offshooting roads that looked not just like a warped nightmare version of reality, but exactly like what Freetown had looked like, a single short timeline ago.
“Captain, we’re not alone!” Elly cried, all three of them getting their weapons in high hanging two handed guards that would both protect their lines while allowing for devastating thrusts, or devastating windmilling strikes that would chop or slash downwards to devastating effect. And since they were between ten and twenty times as strong as an Olympian power lifter and at least fifteen times as fast as any mortal fencer, the force generated would be absolutely catastrophic.
As they quickly proved when a quartet of gnoll champions that Eric’s Identify skill pinged as being exactly Level 25, not 70, or 90 but the exact same level as they were in Freetown, burst from an alleyway, eyes bulging in surprise.
“Just where the fuck do you think you assholes are going?” Screeched the closest gnoll. “Greed’s elites are supposed to—”
Yet before the creature could say another word, Eric’s companions had already darted forward, polearms plunging with effortless ease through necks and eye sockets, three dying in the blink of an eye, leaving only one left to scream in the instant it took Eric’s companions to rip their weapons free of fallen corpses.
A gnollish scream that was instantly silenced when its skull made catastrophic impact with Eric’s fist. He blinked, genuinely surprised at just how effortlessly his fist had burst through the gnoll’s skull in a glittering spray of crimson droplets, grey goblets of brainmatter and white fragments of bone spraying out for dozens of yards in a glittering spray of life and death, moving through the air so slowly before Eric realized that his Battletime had instantly revved up to maximum intensity, 875 Quickness making the rest of the world move shockingly slow in comparison.
He then allowed time to snap back at the standard 200 Synergized Quickness/Perception/Finesse pace that his companions were most used to processing data, a hair under a fourth of his own speed, yet still ten times quicker than any mortal.
He couldn’t help but feel a slight shiver of awe at just how utterly the crucible of peril and the glories of ascension had pushed him, while still feeling just the same as he ever did. Even if moving his body was now an effortless joy and pleasure, and scents had never before been quite so sharp… tastes never so sweet.
“Eric?”
“Sorry. Just thinking about how fucking bizarre it is that punching through a gnoll is now as effortless as punching cotton candy. It just feels… wrong.”
Garrett flashed a hard smile. “Yeah, it is pretty sweet, isn’t it? We really didn’t need to use our polearms at all. We’re only doing high-low cleaves and thrusts, of course. No side to side montante bullshit, since we’re a tightly clustered and disciplined party. That said, we are party-linked and we’re feeling the adrenaline and mana roaring through all our channels simultaneously, so, yeah, it’s a fucking rush when your foes explode like bloodfruit thrown off a ledge.”
He then gave Eric a pointed look. “In case you haven’t already figured it out, kid, that kind of power gets to some people’s heads, and they start treating life itself as a game. Thinking that mortals don’t matter, that they’re no more real than the critters we’re fighting in here. Psychopaths, mostly. So let’s hope you never walk that path.”
Eric clenched his jaw, shaking his head. “Never. No more than I would ever hurt a child, even when I was mortal.”
“But there’s no shame in slaughtering these delve abominations. They’re not even real,” Lone assured.
Elly nodded. “Exactly. Plenty of time to pretend were like everyone else, pull back our power, and sink into a more peaceful mental speed when were back topside. But for now? We need to embrace every fucking edge we can get.” She gave Eric a thoughtful look. “But you’re frowning pretty hard for a kid who just found out he’s an absolute badass when fighting monsters that are Green tier at best.”
“Not even Yellow!” Lone agreed. “Those Level 25s are at the low end of Green. I thought this was a high end Red about to ascend?”
Bennett snorted. “Let’s not jinx ourselves. Dungeon delves don’t always match the surrounding mana layer. It’s just a guideline. And even if the first-clear payoff isn’t anything extraordinary, every last point helps, and we can be fucking grateful if this is actually an easy run.”
Lone and Elly nodded a bit too fervently at that.
Which made Eric feel all the worse, being the bearer of bad tidings. “Yeah, quick head’s up. IF this follows the script that I think it does… then there’s a lot worse here than Level 25 gnolls.”
Bennett spun around so fast that even Eric was impressed. “Explain,” he said, quick and to the point.
“Well, besides the ogres and orcs you can hear roaring in the distance, there’s also professional mercenaries and abominations that would be eager to infect your body with a domination seed if you let it.”
All three mercenaries were now staring at Eric in deadpan silence.
“What kind of mercenaries, and what exactly do you mean by abominations?” Elly quietly asked.
Eric sighed, having hoped for more orcs as a warm-up, but of course the thing now racing toward them at full speed with an ululating scream was anything but a warm-up dummy.
“I mean like that,” he said, pointing to the wild-eyed man covered in sores and stringy hair who looked like a burned out toothless meth fiend, yet the seven fleshy tendrils covered in glaring eyes sprouting from his neck were as vibrant and healthy as they could be, whipping through the air as Elly screamed, Lone cursed, and Bennett lashed out just a tad bit quicker than the others.
Before all three stumbled back in a daze from the sudden flash of light and heat.
Quickness check made!
You have effortlessly slipped under deadly Dominator’s barrage!
Fire Fist!
You have elected NOT to enhanced this strike!
You have done Catastrophic damage to your prey!
You have OBLITERATED Level 55 Dominator’s Shell!
Finesse modified skill-check made! Explosive radius does not wash over yourself or your companions!
“What the fuck was that!” A cursing Lone asked a few seconds later, glaring with disgust at the charred mass of broken and mostly obliterated flesh. “And did you have to flash us so hard?”
Eric flashed a tight smile. “Believe it or not, that was me holding back. And it was a level 55 Dominator’s shell. But don’t let the name fool you. They can deposit spores or seeds in your naked flesh if they can land a hit with their tentacles that will, I’m pretty damned sure, make you a puppet of the big bad honcho of this entire delve.”
“Fuck, that’s bad!” Lone hissed.
Elly’s eyes crackled with heat Eric sensed she was desperate to unleash, yet didn’t dare. “It is. And it’s damned useful intel. Is there anything else we should know, Eric?”
He winced at the pointed look she was giving him. That the whole crew were giving him… so obviously wondering how he knew what he knew but allowing him to keep his secrets. For now. So long as his intel kept them alive.
“Yes, actually,” he said, hearing a high pitched electromana crackle way sooner than he wanted to, the emergence of multiple elite mercenaries so like his friends, though geared up in full suits of power armor with miniguns even now being whipped around making it clear that they were already running out of time.
“Garrett!” Elly cried in dismay, as the air filled with blazing streams of superheated plasma and--
SpeedRacer bridges the gap!
POWER STRIKE!
You have struck your foe with 20-fold Fire Fist!
3 Opponents have been stunned.
1 Level 15 Bronze Tier mercenary has been slain!
***
Elly’s heart was pounding loud enough for her entire party to sense, eyes wide with awed disbelief as the air roared and flashed with a series of explosions so rapid it was one continuous roar.
She caught flashed of their employer’s face. They all did. Piercing fey green eyes so like her own, and a shock of bright red hair nothing like her own. Yet in a certain light, when the backwash of exploding power armor lit it up just right, she felt chills… catching for just a heartbeat a glimpse of a queen lost to myth and legend centuries ago. It was almost as chilling as the sight of a full squad of mini-gun wielding elites decked out in full power armor she could almost swear was the real thing, sensing that their electromana resonances were somehow geared for this place and time.
All of them moving their weapons with the ease of mastery, aided by deadly feats perfect for slaughtering both tanks and speedsters that Ally knew all too well.
Yet the shockingly fast movements of their newest party member, who seemed able to outright ignore things like inertia and air resistance, allowed him to move with eerie grace and supernatural precision so great it almost seemed a choreographed performance, plasma weapons their opponents tried to bring to bear with speed every bit as great as Elly’s own, yet Eric weaved and dodged under them so effortlessly. Miniguns that stitched the entire block with streams of plasma that caused the buildings to erupt with explosions of superpressurized rock erupting, splattering Elly and her companions with rocky shrapnel that thankfully didn’t do anything but bang against their reinforced armor. Armor that would have been vaporized had they been the ones firing those miniguns with their own perks in play. And whether or not these monsters mirrored the outer world that well or not… it was a horrifying enough experience seeing just how well this dream realm mirrored reality for magitech to work so damned well.
“Fuck, that minigun could have stitched us!” Lone hissed even as Ernest continued to weave and dance past his targets. “What the fuck. The kid’s so fast! Why doesn’t he put them down with more of those karate fists of his?”
Elly blinked, wondering the same thing before the truth revealed itself a heartbeat later, when a furious wrench tore minigun free of grunting mercenary, the crack of palm strikes shattering wrists and elbows even through armor was audible even from here, as were the high pitched tinny cries Elly actually heard with her Sylvan ears and inhuman Perception that she just knew she would be able to properly make out if they were actually wearing their armor.
Armor she was suddenly sure should work perfectly fine down here.
Yet in the time it had taken her to share her observation, Bennett was already slamming her to the ground as the world lit up with another stream of plasma that could have spelled her end.
“Fuck! Asshole!” The boulevard flashed with sudden heat. “Sorry, guys! I thought I could pull three free! Only got two, and that was way too close. But I think I actually have two suits of working power armor we can grab!”
Bennett was back on his feet. “Don’t play games with our lives, kid! When we have an opportunity to take our opponents down, we take it! You’re damn lucky that shot didn’t hit Elly.”
Elly winced, praying that the boy that she now had absolutely no doubt could end them with shocking ease, holding back so much power like the most elite of scions, wouldn’t take offense at Bennett’s words.
She choked back a whimper when she saw the sudden frustrated heat in Ernest’s gaze… before he took a deep breath, and bowed his head.
“You’re right. I apologize.” And the smile he sent her way, worried and hopeful, sure as hell shouldn’t be making her feel such a soft warm glow where she had so tightly held only fierce dedication and pain for too many years.
“Are you okay, Elly?”
“Yes, hero. Yes I am,” she said with a teasing twinkle in her eyes, for a second forgetting who and what she was, feeling like she was only thirty, barely out of the commune, daring to delve beside the first boy to ever touch her heart.
And the look in Ernest’s (that’s not his real name) eyes. Pupils dilating, somehow sensing exactly what she was thinking and feeling and how? How did he know? Because she did want him. Gazing at him along a smoke strewn boulevard with gnoll corpses and burnt bodies that looked too fucking human for comfort stripped of power armor so fast that even she was impressed… she wanted him as fiercely as she had wanted any man in years. And not just to escape her pain.
Her cheeks flushed, seeing the tear in his emerald green eyes so like her own… sensing some awful poignant regret… and that he hungered for her as well.
For a long, timeless moment, their eyes met, a promise exchanged as pheromones peeked and she was almost ready to—
“Elly. Focus!”
Her jaw clenched, glaring a surprised Bennett’s way.
“Elly?”
She shook away her glare, pretending she didn’t see the flicker of hurt confusion Bennett would forever be too tough to admit to anyone, save Svena, who he had all but proposed to in a move so sweet and heartfelt that she had been filled only with happiness. Even knowing that she would never make love to either of them again.
Bennett and Svena were forming a pair bond, and that was sacred.
She rubbed her face, muting her ire, which was pure foolishness, exchanging a glance with a kid who wasn’t even twenty! Before turning her focus back where it belonged, on her captain. “Captain?”
His features tightened briefly, before he pointed at the boy with his chin. “Check out the armor and the mini-gun. Is it legit?”
She blinked, castigating herself for an idiot, not having checked that the instant there was a pause in battle, instead falling into the gaze of a too handsome boy so bright with the promise of living legend that she was in danger of losing herself in the sweet heat of his flame.
“Silly girl. You already had your chance at love and ascension. Focus on what matters. You can dream impossible dreams later.” Gentle thoughts said with a mother’s exasperation to her inner yearning child who longed to be free of pain and regret and filled with a young woman’s innocent optimism once more. Yet even with the pain she had suffered, she knew to be grateful for a century’s worth of wisdom, skills, and power earned, for all that so much of it had been taken away.
What hadn’t been hindered in the least was her exquisite Arcane Technician skill, a talent that allowed her to both sense and fine-tune the flow of almost any arcane tool, whether wand, blaster, or suit of power armor. Fact was that she had served as the unit’s perpetually busy and drained repair-girl, until they had met Riz, who’s affinities and profession had blown her efficiency away by several hundred percent. But with him gone… she was now all they had. And if Lone gave her one more snide message about her changing her Profession when Baker was what brought her so much happiness, pain-free peace, and filled all their bellies with joy, and had filled her own family’s bellies with happiness so many years ago… no. Lone could stuff his Professionless ass and let her live her own life, or pick up a wrench and arcane goggles and unlock a Profession for his own lazy self.
She sighed, purposely stilling her internal dialogue as she carefully examined the mini-gun the boy handed her so casually, as if there was absolutely no risk of it melting to slag or blowing up in his face and her her mind was suddenly screaming, flaring bright white with the marvel before her. Flooded by dozens of images of overlapping diagrams and arcane channels and YES!
She trembled with disbelief, her own pounding heart helping to pull her free of the marvel of flashing blue prints and diagrams blazing through her psyche as she gazed into a suddenly worried looking Bennett’s eyes.
“Elly! What’s wrong?”
She swallowed the lump in her throat, chuckling softly. Refusing to say a word. Instead she squeezed TIGHT The glorious artifact that shouldn’t be real, shouldn’t exist, but DID! And used one of the very few talents from her original class still open to her. Stronger than ever, after years honing what little she could do, in fact. She spent a single arcane point binding the absolute treasure in her hand, this absolutely perfect wand of absolutely destructive power, before turning to a smiling Lone.
“Get back.”
She quirked a grin at his instant compliance before the smoke-laden air lit up with superheated plasma and the brick wall on the far side of the boulevard grew white hot as plasma ripped through the limestone face before the entire building erupted and crumbled to the ground.
For long moments, the crew was breathless.
Ernest’s eyes lit up.
“You actually Soul-bound it? How? I mean… that’s incredible! Did you master the electromana circuitry that fast? That well? How many Soul Reserve points did it cost you?” The boy winced in sympathy. “Fuck. I know most people don’t have that many. I hope you didn’t push yourself too far.”
To this, Elly gave a throaty chuckle that rang through the air like wind chimes. And the look in Ernest’s eyes, nostrils inhaling sharply. Marking her. Wanting her. It brought a wicked little grin to her cherry red lips.
Yes. When all was said and done, assuming they survived this, she’d definitely be savoring a fine young buck and rocking his world as best she could.
And if he actually managed to steal her heart, she’d fill his world with the heavenly scents of cinnamon, vanilla and chocolate, baking the tastiest treats he could ever hope to have.
Then she shook all such silly thoughts away, answering candidly, for her crew’s benefit as well as his own.
“None, of course. No technique like that is taught in any academy, and for good reason! Who would dare to waste their limited Soul Reserve binding perilous treasures from the deep? It costs me just a single Mana point to bind, no matter the size, weight, or exotic nature of the prize. So long as I make a skill check. The same as what every mage spends to bind their very first wand.”
Then she blinked, taking in his crimson armaments of mithril and the blade by his hip.
Her jaw dropped.
“For fucks sake, Ernest! Don’t tell me you spent… how many Soul Points binding your… you used Mana points, didn’t you? Just a single Mana point is all it takes if you have the right classes, talents, or skills. That’s how everyone does it!”
Eric’s cheeks blazed. “It’s… never mind.”
She closed the distance between them, ignoring her Captain’s words, gently pressing Eric’s face with the back of her palm. “Ernest?”
He force a strained smile. “Please, call me Eric.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine, Eric. But please, tell me how you’re feeling? Are you feeling dizzy, sick, disoriented… strained?” She bit her lip, looking genuinely worried.
***
Eric blinked, surprised to see Elly suddenly so close to him, utterly ignoring the stern look in her captain’s eyes to gaze into his own, filled with such obvious concern.
He forced a smile. “Can’t you see my stats in the group interface sheet?”
She pouted, giving him a mock glare. “Your physical stats are absolutely absurd. What does that have to do with the state of your soul?”
Eric blinked. “Wait, you can’t see the…” He snapped his jaw shut, realizing that he must be seeing even more than they were and no doubt the captain would not be happy to hear that. “Anyway, are you serious? You can bind that minigun for a single Mana point?”
Elly flashed a cheeky smile. Before darting forth to press her lips against his own.
Filling his world with the scents of vanilla, lemon grass, and a sweet, fierce hunger.
His eyes widened. Cheeks flushing when he found himself acutely aware of just how fertile, and receptive, she truly was
He froze, unable to pull away from what had been just a gentle caress, really, ashamed by how much he suddenly hungered for her. A hunger so different from what he had felt for Rica… and so very much like what he had felt for a certain trio of Sylvan ladies that had come so close to claiming him.
He took a shuddering breath, heart racing from more than just recently passed battle.
“So, it would only take you a single mana point to bind to that armor?” He asked, voice huskier than he had intended.
She bit her lip and smiled at him. “Only one way to find out,” she whispered, caressing the suit with a surprisingly delicate touch, for all that Eric knew damn well that 200 Strength could warp steel.
Her eyes bolted open.
Eric felt a sudden jolt of fear, ready to tear her free.
“Don’t touch her!” Bennett snapped in alarm, catching Eric’s determined gaze. Then in a calmer tone, “She’s fine. She just needs to process.
“Oh fuck yes!” Elly’s eyes snapped open. She gave the captain a quick look. “Cover me!”
Eric nodded even though the words hadn’t been directed at him, hand on the hilt of his blade as he glared down the boulevard, sensing a fresh cluster of reds heading their way.
“Elly, this really isn’t the—”
“Humans! They don’t wear the insignia! Intuders! At—”
Bloodfire Strike!
Decapitation!
You have successfully decapitated 7 orcs in 1.2 seconds! (Minimal experience earned.)
Eric took a deep breath as he flicked his blade clean and resheathed it, less concerned about how little potency he could absorb from such weak things with his own core becoming so dense… and more satisfied with his own growing mastery over his techniques. To move so quick from a dead stop, maximizing Battletime and Speedracer so effectively that his foes had time only for a single blink before his blade was unsheathed and it was over in a flicker and blur of crimson slashes that had effortlessly cut through the building the orcs had been beside as well as the seven fresh corpses themselves.
Eric then spun around, darting back as fast as he came.
Lone blinked. “Teleporter! That kid actually learned a teleportation power, didn’t he?”
Bannett rubbed his chin strap. “Not sure. Definitely a movement technique, which I hear that Windridge practitioners specialize in.”
Eric’s satisfaction turned to a strained smile. Because he was still down a certain movement technique that a certain beautiful elf by the name of Sufia whose 12th node he had opened owed him. But she was now, literally, a world away with the tome in question… or did Jinni have it? Was she part of Blue Corp without ever having branched off to start a cultivation academy on his behalf? Did that exotic Windridge movement technique even exist in tome form in this timeline? Or was Sufia’s opened 12th node containing that priceless technique so deeply ingrained that it was now a part of her to absolutely glorious effect which incidentally made her the only beneficiary of that prize?”
A part of him wanted to laugh at the irony of it all, but he knew darn well that with all his boons and advantages, he had absolutely no right to feel anything but extreme gratitude for just how far he had come.
Gratitude like Elly who was both sobbing and laughing as she actually made the power armor come alive, minigun now in hand, firing a quick burst of plasma through another brick wall.
“What’s the mana drain like?” Bennett asked, though the hungry look on his face as he approached the second set made his thoughts clear enough.
“Far lower than it should be! Keeping the entire set of power armor going costs as much as active use of our force shields, and no more! And the plasma shoots out at a fucking-A 1 mana point per charge depletion! So a burst of 20 is 20 mana. And you could single shot it all day!”
Those words froze Bennett stock still. “Elly.”
“Yes, Bennet. I know. These treasures are priceless.”
“With what those miniguns are going for in Freetown, if we can offer purely arcane versions that are actually usable in delves, so the so-called weakest of all delving classes can show the world just how powerful we truly are…”
“I know,” Elly whispered. “Even if there are no charge packs. Even from our own mana. So cheap. Yeah. The guns especially… a hundred million. Especially if we’re smart about it and offer it only to some elite friends who will pay in installments.”
“Assuming we want to tell anyone at all,” Lone said pointedly. Before raising his hands at Bennett’s pointed look. “Hey, I’m just saying that this is a way to get ahead. So fucking ahead of pretty much every other company! If we can break through our bottlenecks… hell, with the concentration of potency we all feel in this territory alone, perilous as it is… I’m saying Deep Bronze.”
Elly and Bennett froze, exchanging looks.
“I think he might be right,” Elly admitted with a dreamy smile. “I almost… I almost felt like I was on the cusp of a revelation… an epiphany unlike anything I’ve experienced for a very, very long time.”
Bennett swallowed, taking long, steady breaths. “Okay. New plan. We hunt carefully. Methodically! Not to slaughter but just to surround and disarm.
He turned to Eric. “Can we count on you to do what you do so well? It goes without saying you’ll be profiting with a damned sweet double share, if we can actually manage to pull this off.”
Eric couldn’t help but grin. “Of course, Bennett. I’m always happy to help out my friends.” His gaze turned thoughtful, even as Long and Bennett exchanged a bemused smile.
“He’s a good kid.”
“I know,” Bennett said, even as he poured all his focus into the minigun he now held.
Eric frowned, sensing that it was costing the man a bit more than it had Elly. But all worry faded when a beatific expression crossed his features.
“It worked,” Bennett said with an awed smile. “And I just broke through.”
Lone’s eyes lit up. “Wait, are you serious? After all these years now you’re Level 41? And all it took was binding yourself to pure arcane power armor and mini-gun?” He gave a frustrated chuckle. “Fuck, I wished it came as easy to me as it did you two!”
But Bennett said nothing, lost in a soft glow that filled Eric’s heart with a joy he hadn’t expected to see. He smiled gently into Elly’s anxious eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ll cover for us while the captain cultivates and consolidates his gains, ha ha. We got that much time. I’m sure of it. Besides. If we’re going to do this… I really should practice my spells, since incapacitation, not death, is the name of the game right now.”
Elly’s eyes lit up. “That’s right, you’re a caster on top of everything else!” She flashed a teasing smile. “I do believe I sense a fresh band of gnolls approaching.” She was suddenly in his face, soft lips breathing into his own. “How about you show me what you can do?”
And he did.
“Mollet roboro herbam plures dies!”
He couldn’t deny how nice it was to see Elly’s look of awe, no longer gazing at him like he was an absolute idiot, paying a fortune to bind treasures it had cost her only a single mana point to claim.
She admired his shield of reinforced crimson wood. “Impressive.”
Eric grinned. “And it provides a nice buff to my Mana, Qi, and soul attack defenses. And oh, look! Friends are definitely heading this way.” He smirked. “Gnolls showing on my interface as Spear Masters. And these are actually a decent level.”
Elly nodded. “True elites. For gnolls. Are you going to show me how well you can parry their spears?”
Eric’s jaw clenched. If he had been furious about the betrayals that had occurred in Freetown before… it was now clear that his enemies had broken every precedent and rule out there. No thirty level limit followed at all. Not even fifty. These creatures were Level 70 at the least.
“Fuck that. I’d rather freeze them in their tracts.”
The gnolls glared and screeched at them from a good fifty yards, clearly girding themselves to attack.
Eric snarled, letting the words flow from his lips, even as his shield whipped out to parry spears thrown with such cracking force that it was clear that Orc Javelineers weren’t the only demi human ranged weapon class worth noting.
Elly’s brow furrowed when the air cracked with a second, then a third spear, all parried in an instant.
“Eric, please be… they’re charging!”
And so they were. Before being blown right off their feet by howling wind so fierce that they tumbled to the cobblestone ground, some distance away.
“Roboro ventus! Iram congelo! Plures attentio!”
Elly’s eyes widened even as she shivered. “Shit, Eric, one of them actually burst on impact. And according to my interface… it was level 70! And thanks for sharing the kill.”
Yet Eric didn’t move, his face a study of concentration as he tried to feel the magic flowing through him. Recalling the words he had said to both spells and repeating them over and over again. Praying that he could make use of this dungeon’s endless potential in the way that he was now desperate to.
Realizing only now a crucial weakness in his plans.
Saturating his core a second time was all well and good. But what good was a skill enhancement that allowed him to learn spells cheaper than ever, if he had absolutely no points to flash learn those spells? Not to mention no time to spend months in arcane academies learning spells the old fashioned way, assuming any arcane institutions even existed at all, thanks to their enemies taking over Elonia’s territories. His only hope, besides actual combat breakthroughs, was that if he focused on runic magic sufficiently in dungeons, then maybe it would serve to enhance or grant spells instead of pouring all earned points into boosting the underlying stats. Not that he wasn’t grateful for both, but he could really use some more spells.
Especially if this dungeon had the final boss that he was almost certain that it did.
A boss that put the glory and joy of uncovering priceless artifacts that any mecha warrior would kill for, armaments that would actually make them delve-viable, in it’s proper place. Because if he couldn’t take out the boss… Freetown was doomed. And what the hell were a couple of miniguns compared to that?
And if the boss was, in fact, the reincarnation of the young Contender that was the result of a force-bred operation with a Cthulian mind-melting squid-headed nightmare… then Eric’s goose was truly cooked. And the worst part of it was, he had no real choice but to go forward. The inevitable outcome from the moment he had jolted awake in his Blue Palace suite, after ascending beyond all his hopes and dreams.
And if he wasn’t bloody careful and prepared countermeasures ahead of time… his brain would explode just as quickly as the gnoll who’s flash-frozen skull hit the cobblestone road.
You have critically struck 70th level Gnoll Spearmaster.
Fatality! Experience earned!
Chapter 408 - Treasure Hunt X
Comments
Joe K
Welcome to this week's episode of Eric solos a dungeon while everyone stands around and gawks and the hot girl wants to jump his bones.
Joseph M
Joseph M
