Battleforged
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Chapter 153 - Putting Everything On The Line
🕑 Added 2022-08-16 04:01:00 +0000 UTC"How are you feeling, buddy?” Eric asked Samuel after presenting him with a plate full of grilled pork cutlets, a recipe Eric was getting an awful lot of practice at perfecting.
His friend smiled, digging into the meat. “Much better now, thanks.” He pointed at the cultivation tome. “Just going over it again. Even if I don’t have a full set of seven meridian channels, all it takes is a few intact meridian gates to benefit from cycling Qi and infusing my body with spiritual energy that will improve my health, alertness, and contration. A way of leveling up without having to level up at all. At least as far as System classes goes.”
Eric nodded, well aware of that, but appreciating Sam taking the lessons to heart. “If nothing else, meditating will give us some serenity, not to mention help pass the time if we’re here for weeks,” he added with a chuckle. “And with all the spiritual energy saturating this place, if we have even the tiniest potential as cultivators, we’ll unlock it here, I’m sure.”
Sam grinned. “That’s exactly what I’m hoping. Necromancy, cultivation, and sparring. Even if we suffered a few setbacks, even I’m not really ready to be your teacher, at least we can find paths forward to better ourselves. Like sparring with our sabers.”
Eric smiled and nodded. “No worries there, I’m happy to spar with you on the daily, regardless of the necromancy situation.”
Sam winced at that, clearly turning away from the conversation and focusing on his cutlets. Eric understood, the rest of the meal passing in silence before Eric headed back to the clearing beside the cavern.
“What are you going to be work on?” a curious Sam asked.
“Now I’m going to see if I can finally unlock the puzzle to using these wands,” Eric held up his charged fire wand with a smile, earning an impressed whistle from Sam.
“Nice! I hope you can pull it off.”
“So do I,” Eric said, though when he finally got to his preferred training spot just outside the cavern entrance, pausing only long enough to check the wards, it was his blaster that he pulled out and carefully inspected. Doing his best to understand and follow every bit of the exquisitely complex piece of magitech in his hands, using Manasight as best he could to understand how effortlessly it pulled out just a tiny fraction of Eric’s own mana before discharging a deadly blast of arcane radiation that instantly seared a three inch wide hole right through the carcass he had pulled out.
Eric frowned, only getting the briefest sense of the flow of mana catalyzing the massive discharge released from its own set of crystal ammunition, catching only a glimpse of the whole.
He gave a rueful chuckle, forced to admit that this was many times harder than his almost instinctive grasp of the necromantic sigils that he understood so intuitively, like the back of his hand, when he had infused the chalk diagram with his blood.
Eric suddenly froze, eyes widening as he truly looked at the blaster rifle in his hand.
Knowing that the idea he was struck with was madness.
Absolute madness.
There were so many ways it could go wrong.
But if he got it right…
Eric knew all too well how connected he felt to the bardiches, sabers, and Javelins he had Soul-linked to himself. Not only could he summon them at will, repairing them with a surge of will and potency, he could also increase in skill faster than he otherwise would as if the blood-linked weapons were an extension of himself. That, combined with an absurd degree of Finesse, maximum potency to skill rank conversion, and for his bardiches, at least, the Battleforged perk making his skill progression all the more absurd, it was no wonder he was shooting up in skill ranks so gloriously fast.
All he had to do was play to his strengths, and put his life on the line.
Yet not one of those skills coming to him so naturally at what Eric sensed was the absolute best time to pick up skill mastery, in the early days of a newly integrated world as one of the native races, was of an arcane nature. All of them were either unorthodox talents that the System clearly disfavored, or utterly mundane martial skills that a powerful enough wizard would no doubt make a complete mockery of.
If he was truly to get ahead and break free of the skill trap a deliberately orchestrated lack of resources forced nearly the entire population of pod survivors into… he needed to do more with his potential than just swing his bardiche a bit more effectively. No matter how glorious that skill was turning out to be.
If he could actually forge a soul-link to the arcane blaster now in his hands… if he could intuitively sense and visualize in his mind’s eye the entire circuit-board’s worth of golden filaments, his understanding of arcane processes would skyrocket. His exquisitely complex weapon would become a literal extension of himself, an extension he would intuitively understand, and from there, he suspected that learning how to use the fire wands would be child’s play in comparison.
Because ultimately those laser beams were burning holes into their prey. And that heat resonated perfectly with his own Essence of Flame.
He gave a slow nod of resolve. Heart racing with growing excitement.
This was the path forward.
He was now sure of it.
If there was any chance of him unlocking an arcane path, it would be by unlocking the secrets of this blaster rifle and seeing just how far that knowledge could take him.
He took a deep breath, focusing himself, grateful that his level 9 potency bar was full once more, already knowing he was taking a mad gamble.
But if it worked?
The payoff would be immense.
If nothing else, he’d be able to summon and store his Mark II Deathblaze in the blink of an eye, and between soul-linked familiarity, his Master Criminal learning perk, and his Finesse and Perception stat bonuses, he suspected he’d be a crack shot with that weapon in no time at all.
And he wasn’t blind to the sheer practicality of acquiring further title bonuses, because somehow he doubted anyone had earned a 100 kill count with an illicit blaster rifle title yet, and he would be quite happy to be the first, stealing yet another title and it’s related perks from yet another smarmy-looking scion from some prestigious clan that thought nothing of bringing hardship to his planet.
And maybe he was thinking of certain smug-looking spoiled prince of an asshole from his favorite movie when he glared at the carcass before him, before flooding the weapon in his hands with all the potency that he could as he felt his mind and soul forge a connection to the artifact even now discharging a hot stream of death into the pig carcass just a short distance away.
And however high-pitched that tusker’s squeal had been before falling to Eric’s javelin, it was nothing compared to the shriek ripped from Eric’s own lips as he pushed himself too damned far yet again, feeling his Potency plummet at a dizzying pace down to zero, before his own precious life force was sucked into a vicious whirlpool of complexity as he strove desperately to understand, and become one with, the inner-workings of the magnificently complex piece of arcane hardware before he shriveled like a lifeless corpse as days and weeks turned to months and then one full year and a second before the hideous sense of being crushed and drowning in the endless depths of the Stygian sea catalyzed to sudden brilliant understanding, hideous pain and horror at his own stupidity transforming into indescribable awe as an exquisitely complex symphony of magical potential roared through his soul.
A shuddering Eric suddenly understood with such perfect clarity the massive recursive matrix of golden filaments and arcane potential blazing upon his mind’s eye as trembling fingers squeezed the trigger a final time and Eric could sense the flow of arcane magical potential transform through countless fibers and conduits into an impossibly hot stream of plasma that seared completely through its target in the blink of an eye.
At which point he crashed to his knees, giving a dry, painful chuckle as he coughed a spray of blood from his deathly parched throat before pulling a flask of ice cold water and most definitely not looking at his dry shriveled flesh as he desperately drank both cool water, stored fruit juices, and two ales before collapsing prone on the ground, taking deep ragged breaths that eased within seconds.
His heart hammered with a hot spike of dread as he forced himself to look down at his withered flesh… before laughing in exhausted relief to find his body looking the same as always. Whatever damage dehydration, depletion, or aging had cost him, he still looked like the same potent youth at the peak of health as he had just hours ago.
Even if the messages blaring inside his mind’s eye made it clear that he had paid a steep price indeed for his daring.
Two more years of his life, torn free of his flesh. And he sensed he was damned lucky it hadn’t been a lot worse.
Congratulations! Infravision derived Magesight is now Rank 15!
Infravision derived Magesight is now Rank 16!
Infravision derived Magesight is now Rank 17!
Blood Mastery is now Rank 23!
Rituals of Summoning and Binding is now Rank 20!
Congratulations! You have now reached Adept tier status in Rituals of Summoning and Binding!
You have successfully forged a Soul-Link with Mark II Deathblaze Arcane Blaster Rifle!
You now understand this weapon as if it were an extension of yourself!
Cross-class synergy detected. - You now understand the inner-workings of an Advanced Arcane Weapon! You will received bonuses in comprehending arcane blueprints and circuits, especially those involving the element of Flame! The Artificer Class is now open to you!
Level 9 potency lowered to 0.
This necromantic feat has cost you an additional 2 years, 7 days, and 14 hours of your life!
Eric winced as he checked his current physical age.
Physical Age = 17 Years (+22 years, 236 Days & 4 hours that Arcane Magics cannot restore! Superhuman vitality allows you to keep your youth, even if you’re now burning your candle at both ends!)
For all that he was ecstatic to find that an arcane class would most definitely be open to him, and couldn’t help but feel a sense of wonder at the shimmering golden arcane blueprint in his mind’s eye, sensing how it would serve as a priceless cornerstone to his understanding of arcane constructs, already sensing how his basic fire wand mirrored the tiniest portion of those recurving golden threads.
Then his excitement paled at the thought of the bitter price he had just paid in his desperation to prove himself, to do something with his time, to not feel like a stumbling fool risking disaster with every misstep.
Because that, it seemed, was exactly what he was.
He shook his head and swallowed the bile threatening to crawl up his throat.
Because maybe he had played the fool. Maybe he had paid a bitter price to sense an arcane construct in his mind’s eye just as effortlessly as he still remembered the interlocking necromantic sigils that comprised the summoning and binding ritual he knew he could replicate even now, and without having spent more than the tiniest portion of his potency and not a day of his life to master.
But at least now he had this blueprint mastered. For better or worse, he had done it. Now all that was left was to get over the horror of two more years of his life torn away, promise himself once more that he would stop playing the fool with his ever shortening lifespan, hunt some fresh boar, and do his best to max out his level 9 experience pool once more before taking the final step in his path to mastering that damned wand.
He glared down at the expertly made wand, already knowing what he would do with it, glad that at least he wouldn’t be binding complete crap to his being. Because as foolish as it might sound, after risking so much bu soul-linking that blaster rifle, it should only take the tiniest fraction of potency to bind yet another tool he was so close to understanding. At just a fraction of the weight and the complexity of the Mark II, with the bitterly paid-for bonus he would now have towards comprehending arcane blueprints and circuits, especially those involving his favored element, he hoped it would only cost him the tiniest fraction of his experience pool to make the wand his own.
From then on, he should be able to use the magic intuitively even if he lacked any sort of arcane formal study, finally bridging the gap between warrior and arcane magic-wielder.
But before he did anything else, he had one final bit of good news, an added balm to the bitter price he had just paid.
Congratulations! You have achieved Adept Tier status in Rituals of Summoning and Binding!
Scholarship, Willpower, and Soul Reserves have each gone up by 3 points!
He felt both transformed, anxious, and oddly relieved. Because Adept tier in Rituals of Summoning and Binding had boosted vital stats he would never dare with any level up, terrified that he’d become the System’s creature, dare he let it affect his mind directly. So he could only pray that the stat boons earned with skill evolutions were gifts of Terra, or this pocket realm directly and that, ultimately, he was still himself. Because he had no doubt that he would need every cognitive edge he could get as Earth’s peril grew and he faced greater and greater threats needing a powerful mind as well as an inhumanly strong body in the months and years to come.
But no matter the peril or risk, he’d make damn sure that his mind was always his own.
With that resolve firmly in mind, he knew he had one final choice to make before initiating the next stage of his plan.
Congratulations! You have achieved Adept tier in an UNORTHODOX skill! You are free to evolve your skill along multiple paths!
The Path of Mastery is open to you. Gain ever greater clarity at mastering even the most complex sigils of binding, learning your forbidden arts with greater facility than ever before.
The Path of Conservation is open to you! This Perk will allow you to forge ritual circles, blood wards, and soul-bindings at decreased cost!
Eric frowned at the pair of options the System prevented him with, appreciating the benefits of both. Nothing beat mastery for learning the complex glyphs, runes, and increasingly complex rituals that Eric just knew was part and parcel to the scholarly necromantic path. But considering how skilled he already was as imprinting those glyphs within his mind when he infused just a bit of his bloodmagic into them… he thought it would effectively be a waste of a perk, shaving of hours of learning time, especially with his now boosted scholarship, that might mean weeks or months of saved learning time for a less gifted student.
Of course he already knew the perk he should claim hands down, without a second thought. Anything to reduce the potentially perilous cost of Soul-binding artifacts. He knew this just as surely as he knew the feel of his Mark II Deathblaze, instantly summoned to his hands in the blink of an eye, an assassin’s deadliest toy now not only his own, but a true extension of himself.
All the same, despite his boosted Willpower and Scholarship, he couldn’t let go of the impulsive desire to see just how far he could push his skill. And perhaps, just how much the System was hiding.
Because of course it was presenting two excellent skill evolutions.
But who said they were the only ones?
Warning! You are daring an unorthodox path!
Eric flashed a bleak smile as his Interface pinged unhappily against his psyche while he did everything he could to visualize the sense of strength and power he had felt while squeezing tight his fist against the spirit that had infused his perfectly prepared cadaver. Recalling just how it had felt to master it so effortlessly by dint of inhuman willpower, furious resolve, and a perk that aligned perfectly with his Essence. Because he could learn technique just fine on his own. Dominion was true mastery, and what better focus for his gifts than to use Essence-infused dominion to master the target of his bindings utterly, body and soul.
He already had one rank in it.
Who the hell said there wasn’t another?
His lips curled in a fierce grin as his once more empty hands clawed the air. He sensed his psyche clawing at something… something invisible to his eyes but not to hands soaked in the crimson effluvia of his will… feeling out the letters and somehow knowing exactly what they would say.
“I claim Tier II Dominion as my Adept Tier Perk for Rituals of Summoning and Binding!” Eric roared aloud.
Before lurching as the impossible pressure building up against him, a wall of inevitability and futility he knew that he as a dumb Terran monkey had no right to rail against, instantly faded as if it had never been.
Congratulations, Scion! You have chosen Tier II Dominion for your Adept tier Rituals of Summoning and Binding Perk! Now it is for you to fulfill your destiny and show all who would oppose you the might of the true inheritors of this world!
It was all Eric could do not to cackle with bitter glee, his most cynical hunches proven correct once more. It truly was a rigged game, his own Interface subtly doing what it could to coax his path away from the truly extraordinary.
But when he pushed… it immediately snapped into the most helpful of tools once more, needing only a privileged progeny’s insistence to open hidden doors deliberately closed to those who lacked the connections and influence of scions born to influence and power.
Unless one was savvy enough to sense all that was left unsaid, and the countless opportunities carefully hidden, just like Eric had.
Though he could only wonder how many opportunities he had already missed?
A troubling thought, to be sure.
It was then that his mind immediately went over another perk that he had deliberately deferred evolving, having taken it as pure fortuitousness that it hadn’t force any evolution in his absence. But now, as he peered thoughtfully at his Flesh Sculptor perk, he thought he understood why. In his mind’s eye, he had left it parked on Dominion, so in a sense, had already chosen his path.
He just hadn’t known to push, to force the hidden to reveal itself and a second Tier manifest, as if it had been their all along.
To its credit, at least, it only took the briefest nudge of insistence for his Interface, which increasingly seemed willing to treat him as one of those hidden elite scions as opposed to just another native rube, for his Flesh Sculptor feat to evolve in the way he knew it must.
Congratulations, Scion! You have chosen Tier II Dominion for your Adept Flesh Sculptor Perk! Now it is for you to fulfill your destiny and show all who would oppose you the might of the true inheritors of this world!
He couldn’t help cracking a smile at that. In truth, he had no idea what perk he should pick for that skill, but the very fact that it was hidden, and that the Interface was doing all it could to have him defer hyper specialization, made him all the more eager to do just that. And now that he had… he felt a giddy tingle of wonder, suddenly sensing just how much more Potency he could fuse into his blood-saturated greater lizard hide armor, now eager to push its resilience to the absolute limit.
Of course, for that he would need to earn some fresh potency, and a shit ton of it.
For so very many things, he thought with a rueful chuckle, taking a deep breath of air so rich with fiery spiritual energy he could feel it shivering through his soul.
He looked off into the lush forest perfuming the air with the scent of countless peach blossoms and spirit fruit, his heart filled with an odd mixture of triumph and regret, determined to wash the lingering bitterness away with the hunt to come.
But first, it was time to rest and consolidate his gains. Because he’d be an idiot not to get a good night’s sleep after a 9 point boost to his mental stats, and he thought it high time that he made use of his boosted brain.
