Battleforged
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Chapter 69 - Embrace The Hunt & Master Your Skills
🕑 Added 2022-05-09 11:02:15 +0000 UTCYou have successfully gotten to within 3 feet of your opponent!
Iado skillcheck made!
You have successfully struck your opponent 3 times within 1 second!
Giant rat has perished to your blows!
Eric ignored the stream of interface messages, focusing only on the connection between himself and his blade when the giant rat’s head spun through the air in a shower of crimson before splashing in the runoff drain. The absolute pitch blackness that reduced the now visibly agitated and squeaking rats meant they had to rely on nose and ears alone, and they were already drowning each other out with their cries.
Cries that were cut off at once by a snarl delivered by the five footer among them. The vicious, almost sentient rat that was clearly serving as the leader of this band of hunters and patrollers began carefully and deliberately pitching its squeaks in the darkness, as if trying to pinpoint Eric via echolocation.
Squeaks that abruptly cut off with a splash and a plop as it too lost its head, and the entire cluster of rats began squealing and snapping in a desperate frenzy. A cacophony of noise slowly wittled down to a single terrified rat who abruptly went silent and still, whiskers quivering with terror as if it sensed the alpha predator just an eyeblink away from claiming its life… before it abruptly bolted down the corridor.
Or at least the latter half did, the head giving a surprised squeal when it found its entrails staying behind, eyes looking blindly back, unable to see that it had been completely cut in half with a single swing of the bardiche Eric had replaced his sword with in the blink of an eye.
It was clear that these tunnels had grown in difficulty in the weeks that Eric had been away. He had no doubt that had he dared them today as a broken level 0, he would surely have perished within minutes. But after pushing himself as hard as he could when first building up his body back to something respectable, then daring to adventure long before he thought he was ready, he had grown in ways striking and profound. Now, Eric would never fear these tunnels again.
Tunnels even now ringing with the despairing cry of an animal forced to confront the inevitability of its own demise… and then nothing at all.
Because as ruthless and savage as Eric could and would be against those he considered his true foes, his one act of mercy with the rats he hunted was that, no matter how viciously he struck in pursuit of mastering his arts, he would make no rat suffer longer than it took to finish the fight and secure his own safety before he freed it to the sweet mercy of painless darkness forevermore.
A darkness Eric breathed deep and embraced himself, slipping into the gloom as if he were a part of it, feeling more in tune with the damp stones at his feet, glowing a dozen shades of nuanced blue, or the slowly fading pools of bright crimson that was all that remained of the rats he had placed in his slowly expanding ES Storage, to the flaring brightness of the trio of 5-foot sentinels that had heard the commotion and were rapidly approaching, moving so silently that they no doubt hoped to take any hunter in these corridors completely unaware.
And Eric couldn’t quite hold back the fierce grin teasing his hyper-intent features, hand once more caressing the hilt of his sheathed saber, already crouched down, his entire body tightly coiled like a spring… waiting for the rats to get closer…
Just a bit closer…
NOW!
They actually paused and hesitated for a single heartbeat, as if sensing the tiniest shift in air pressure as the silence became a deafening roar…
broken by the slick sounds of steel shearing through meat not once or twice, but half a dozen times in broad draw-cutting strokes as the largest and most daring rat's entrails abruptly ruptured from a flank that had been absolutely shredded as death's wind passed it by in the blink of an eye.
A single gurgling squeal became a cacophony as the two intact rats spun around, as if somehow sensing the monstrous predator at their rears.
Only for the impenetrable gloom to pass the rightmost one, leaving nothing but vicious gaping slashes in its wake, from a tool that sheered through bones as easily as it did hide, muscle, liver, and lungs, and a second giant rat collapsed on its side, desperate to squeal, but ruptured lungs allowed only a bubbling sigh.
The third giant rat was no fool, and didn’t even bother sniffing the air or giving a squeal of warning or alarm. It merely spun around and sprinted back down the brick-lined runoff tunnel for all it was worth. And perhaps it thought it was gaining ground.
As the desperate squeals and weakening gurgles of its companions were abruptly cut off… maybe it even thought it had a chance.
Before all thought was replaced by the white-hot fire of steel ripping through flesh with such fearsome grace that one wasn’t even aware that they were missing key limbs… until suddenly they were, rolling over and over as one paw was sliced off, then a second.
Then a third.
Cuts executed with such calculated precision that even a frantically twisting, squealing, and kicking rat's paws were neatly sheared without any stray cuts tearing into flesh other than what the predator had intended.
Until it was just a panting Eric, sword sheathed once more, gazing down at the monstrous rodent too terrified even to twitch as its forearms continued pumping away it’s lifeblood.
And as much as Eric knew it was madness… what did it say about him if he didn’t at least try?
“I don’t suppose you can speak?”
Eric frowned, almost certain that despite knowing his Universal Translator perk should be both active and working, all but commanding his Interface that, if his gift were in mute mode, now was the time for his mind to open wide… all that the chittering squeak given by the five foot sentinel seemed to indicate was surprise and fear.
Eric furrowed his brow. “Alright, one final try at this. If you can understand me, squeak twice.”
Nothing but silence.
Eric shook his head. Why would it give its secrets away to a predator who was just going to kill it anyway?
Damn it, he had to try again.
Just to make sure he was walking an at least moderately righteous path, that of a hunter taking down vicious prey… and wasn’t about to unwittingly step on a path of sentient racial genocide.
“If you squeak twice, and only twice, I will not only bandage your limbs and feed you… I will promise to stop hunting your kind, so long as you all leave human adventurers alone as well. What do you say?”
Eric sighed when all that greeted him was an animal’s silence. Which, as far as he was concerned, was a good thing. He was free to glory in his hunt once more without the taint of shame, while still paying heed to his original oath of mercy.
A single quick cut as opposed to weeks of crippled starvation, and the rat's ordeal was over.
Whereas Eric’s had just begun.
Because as far as he was concerned, this was just the opening act to a scene he would play out till the final bloody encore.
No matter how many rats he had to kill.
Chapter
Only when all was silent and he was one with the gloom once more, with all traces of his prey gone as if they had never been, did he pause to acknowledge the brilliant message flaring across his Interface, one that filled him with equal parts excitement and jubilation.
He had been all too humbly aware that he was no ninja, no one gifted with an exceptional class. His ability to make the most of Stealth was by learning to take full advantage of his infravision along winding tunnels with stone tiles that gave away not a whisper on fur padded boots.
In a crowded room in broad daylight, he was certain he wouldn’t be any sneakier than anyone else. Hell, with his brilliant red hair, exotic armor, and scarred countenance, he’d probably stick out like a sore thumb.
But since these dark, winding tunnels were his environment, he was determined to master his situational skill as best he could. And with an increasingly absurd Finesse stat and maximum potency to skill rank conversion going for him, he did his utmost to do just that.
Even if it did mean imperiling his life, taking on ever greater numbers of increasingly clever prey, where one truly bad fumble could still cost him everything.
Yet the message he finally acknowledged, while the dice of probability were still madly rolling in his head, made it clear that, no matter how great his knack for necromancy, essences, and swinging a sword or axe might be, in so many other ways he truly was still stumbling in the dark.
Iado (Fast-Draw) is now Rank 6!
Stealth is now Rank 10.
Congratulations! You have achieved Journeyman Status in: Stealth! You now enjoy +2 to Finesse and +1 to Perception as you finally begin to understand what it means to become one with your environment!
Note! You have presently have LIMITED affinity for the Rogue’s Path! (Adept skill ascension, Titles, and Advanced Tier or better classes may be pursued to overcome this limitation.)
You presently have 1 Perk option available to you:
Hunter’s Grace (Standard): Humanity’s evolution as a big game hunter has allowed you to overcome, somewhat, the limitations of your maternal line! It’s unlikely you’ll ever become a true Shadowmancer, Ninja, or Night Rogue, but countless ancestors learning to stalk quietly enough to feed their hungry families assures that even you have some proficiency as a hunter.
This Standard perk gives you a modest bonus to: Moving silently, embracing absolute stillness, and intuitively sensing how best to hide in shadows and mixed terrain, just as your ancestors had!
Perk chosen!
Hunt well, and make your ancestors proud!
And for all that it was just a Standard perk, with no Advanced or Adept evolutions available, he was still pleased at the transformation, suddenly feeling more alert and more connected to his gloomy environment than he ever had before. And much to his delight, he found that he really could now effortlessly freeze to absolute stillness, a trick used by mammalian predators and prey worldwide, which made him wonder if maybe, just maybe, this perk would help him as a marksman as well. At least with his crossbow.
Either way, he thought the skill evolution more than worth it. And for all that he was absolutely determined not to read too deeply into what the Interface was implying about his own family origins… It was exciting to think that maybe, if he continued to practice and better himself, he could turn even this limited ability to a strength.
So long as he didn't get cocky, knowing he'd still be shit at camouflaging himself above ground, especially during the day. At least not without a lot of practice, and really knowing the terrain. The same as with any other trained soldier, at least before the System had infected his world. Yet all that aside, when it came to mastering these pitch black tunnels, he truly felt head and shoulders above the frightened boy he had been, just a handful of weeks ago.
Iado skillcheck made.
Transfer from Soul-Linked Saber to Bardiche is now Effortless!
You have critically struck your opponents!
Still in the zone, Eric allowed himself the tiniest of smiles as he replayed in his mind how effortlessly he had transitioned from iado fast-drawing his saber into a weaving series of underhanded cross-cuts or 'y' slashes before transitioning to sweeping Zwerch-style cuts with his war blade bardiche.
The beauty of 25 Strength making the weight of his weapons so light in his hands, he thought, was that it allowed him to focus solely on fluid mastery of his cuts, slicing with ever greater finesse and control. To the point that now, when he stealthed to less than two feet away from the flanks of his prey, he could fast-draw his saber in a defensive sweeping series of drawcuts that would both force back any rushing attacker, knock away their weapons, or teeth, as the case may be, and utterly rip through their intestines half a dozen times, or their throat if it was a beast charging head first, in less than three seconds. Right before finishing it off his prey with a final blow with his war blade he instantly summoned to his hands and swung so fiercely it completely bisected his prey, just an eyeblink later.
Could he have striven to slice any quicker? Certainly, he thought, as he flicked the gore off his weapons and cleaned them almost ceremoniously, even if he could have just flipped them back into storage, before resheathing his saber once more as multiple surprised-looking rat corpses crashed to the ground.
Yet he reveled in mastering the motions perfectly, embracing ideal follow-through with sweeping draw cuts designed to slice as they cut, much like deli’s spinning bladed meat cutter.
For just a split second, he aimed to slice with that degree of effectiveness. And that required absolute coordination and mastery of technique to generate power, and momentum, from thighs, hips, abs, shoulders, and forearms, all working in concert. As if they were all integral parts of one smooth, flowing motion, deceptively fast and hideously powerful.
And that was why he always drew and struck with his sheathed saber, now using the flameless one once more, and refused to strike with it while it was still in storage. Not when doing it this way allowed him to level up his iado fast-draw and saber skills both. The bardiche, on the other hand, was never intended for fast-drawing, and worked as the perfect complement to his sword when he instantly claimed the soul-bound weapon in storage, trading his saber for it at the end of the arc of his final draw cut, his body already wound up for a devastating final blow. Because his desire to perfect his attacks with his war blade was every bit as great as his desire to master the soul-bound 1821 cavalry saber on his hip.
It was a martial craft he pursued through countless corridors as one hour bled into the next, and time lost all meaning as he hunted relentlessly. Glorying in his kills. Until he reached the point where to brush his blade against the bristling hide of a giant rat drew crimson drops as effortlessly as an artist streaking his brush across an ivory white canvas, and his Interface rang with a message that pleased him to no end.
Congratulations!
You have achieved Rank 7 in the Iado fast-draw skill!
You have achieved Rank 13 in Saber!
Stealth is now Rank 11. You do your Terran ancestors proud!
Not that he needed the messages to tell him what he already knew. He was gaining increasing mastery with the tools of his trade, and his profession was death. Of that, there could be no doubt. And as much as he savored the milestones, when a skill hit the transition point between Apprentice to Journeyman, and what would hopefully be an even bigger stat payoff when those skills eventually hit Adept Tier… he saw those numbers as little more than System placeholders for the skills that were already becoming second nature to him.
Skills that had just now allowed him to confront no less than half a dozen 5-foot sentinel rats, switching from underhanded Saber slashes that had torn out the throat of the first charging rat, earning furious squeals soon turning to agonized screeches when Eric embraced the montante-style greatsword moulinets that his wicked warblade with its three foot long killing edge now took to so readily, thanks to his rapidly improving skills and 25 strength.
But the rats, despite their panic, fear, and confusion, weren't fools. The two largest were able to orient in the right direction and charge him with high-pitched squeals and wicked sharp teeth just a heartbeat after the first ones fell.
Before collapsing in death themselves, just moments later.
Finesse check made! You have successfully slipped past your opponents’ charge!
You have critically struck your opponents!
Your opponents have been disemboweled.
Your opponents have been decapitated!
Yet he was charging forward even before the pair that had sacrificed themselves finished dying, Eric dreadfully certain he knew the fleeing survivor's objective.
To warn their queen.
The massive shadowy figure of red eyes, sibilant squeeks, and countless nightmares. A creature that had come so close to compelling Eric to face her when he was nearly at his weakest, almost a month ago.
How close she had come to burrowing into his mind.
Yet he would honor that final bitter black wish.
He would grant her that audience she had striven so hard to warp his soul into delivering.
Only now?
Now, he would do it on his terms.
Skill check made!
You have critically struck your opponents!
Bardiche is now Rank 14!
And that would only be after he had cut down every single soldier, sentinel, and scavenger she had put on the field.
Because as fiercely determined as he was to bring her down, he wasn’t a fool.
There was no way in hell he would leave her any pawns to summon and swarm him, when it was finally time for them to end their feud once and for all.
It was for the same reason that he had insisted on doing this on his own.
Because, if nothing else, Lyon's roguishly endearing smile and honey-laden words had revealed that even when an opponent had been bested in his body, it was an entirely different thing to master their minds.
Out of all his friends, he alone had been completely unmoved by Lyon’s plea, for all that he still mourned having to kill a fellow human who really could have been a powerful hero for humanity, had he been anything other than a bounty-hunting killer.
And out of all his beloved companions he would walk through fire to save, he couldn’t trust any of them to remain utterly free of a Rat Queen's influence. Not when a single failed Willpower check might result in Drake or Louie suddenly violently attacking the rest of them with their razor-sharp weapons.
Eric already knew what had to be done.
As much as he hated to admit it, if his Rank 6 Mental Resistance and what was now an absurd 40 in Soul Reserves meant anything, it was that this was one mission he could only entrust to himself.
“So let it be a battle of king versus queen, with all our pawns removed from the board,” he whispered with a coldly satisfied nod as yet another half dozen swarming rats died to his blade.
Just one among a dozen swarms he purged that day, their sizes growing in number, their noses twitching with ever greater agitation.
As if they, or perhaps their queen, now knew that something was hunting for them.
Yet not once did he use his bow.
Even though sometimes he miscalculated, and was forever at risk of being swarmed when he failed to account for a particularly vicious rat or an unusually clever counter, and had already suffered multiple injuries that could have led to grievous wounds and missing fingers, were it not for his enchanted scale armor and a growing knack for regeneration.
Of course, he had long since put away the quaint notion of taking on packs of these savage killers with his saber alone, now happily making full use of bardiche and spear, stealth and saber, trading between them all in the blink of an eye as he made full use of his growing sense of tactics, timing, and seizing the initiative every chance he got. Everything except his hidden ace, for all that it would be so much easier to bring them down with arrows at range.
Because if there was even a chance that rat eyes revealed more than what a single rodent sentinel saw, Eric would reveal no cards to a hidden queen that weren't covered in the blood of her pawns.
And just a couple seconds and a few windmilling blows later, it was done.
You have slain an additional 47 giant rats!
Spear is now Rank 13!
Bardiche is now Rank 15!
You have successfully regenerated your nose and two missing fingers!
Stealth fails to level up!
Eric winced, hoping that the final message didn’t mean what he feared it did. He sensed his ability to become one with his surroundings was right at the cusp of Rank 12, and was now refusing to budge a hair further.
So unlike his steadily evolving weapons skills, which he knew were improving at a glorious pace. Almost like mastering skills in a dream, if that dream was the combined gestalt of countless warriors who had come before him. Warriors whose memories, insights, and just the feel of their weapons in their hands he was somehow able to incorporate into his own growing understanding and mastery of his chosen weapons.
But with Stealth… he didn’t really feel anything at all.
No connection to countless thousands of legendary rogues who had no doubt walked tunnels so like these, embracing hunts so suited for skulduggery countless times before him. Yet Eric sensed nothing from history’s echo, save perhaps for the slightest sense of deja vu at times, as if stalking these rats was something he had done countless times before.
It almost felt like his Rank-up bar suffering a blockage of some sort, which brought to mind a dozen of his favorite cultivation novels and a sense of helpless despair. Because all he had was a trash tier technique, stuck at a measly Novice 10%, that was hardly anything more than him focusing on his own inner flame. Not even the equivalent of Rank 1 in any formalized Interface skill, he thought, and far worse off then Stealth.
Right now, the only path forward that he could see was to do exactly what he was doing. Keep striving to master his Stealth skill until the pressure of personal insights finally allowed him to burst through whatever blockage there might be, and perhaps, hopefully, finally tapping into the System gestalt of what he assumed were thousands if not millions of clever rogues and skulkers far better at this deadly dance than he.
But certainly here and now, in his favored environment, with Infravision giving him such a lethal edge, he was letting that skill blossom as best he could in glorious darkness nurturing his skill in ways he could never hope to match in the light.
Eric took a calming breath equal parts relief and exhilaration. He had fought countless scores of rats and emerged victorious. He had continued to improve skills already beyond Olympian levels, at least for here on Earth. And how absurd was that? Who cared if he couldn’t do everything? Level 11 in Stealth was nothing to sneeze at. Even if it never improved further, it was still better than anyone smart enough to avoid the tainted pods could ever hope to achieve. So he refused to waste any more time brooding about things beyond his control.
He then turned his focus to the corpses of what had been the largest of the rats by far, instantly understanding their significance as he gazed down the sloping tunnel that seemed to have been chewed right through crumbling brick and mortar. An impressive feat that finally explained how these monstrous rats had gained entrance to the tunnels in the first place.
Even if the sight of what lay ahead did give him chills.
Because he already sensed the dungeon prompt, and knew exactly where the shimmering portal of obsidian darkness at the end of the tunnel before him must go.
The ultimate boss of this area. A monster that Eric was determined to bring down.
Only by daring that fateful path could he assure his friend's safety while sleeping in his sanctuary, and purge his nightmares of the hideous abomination that he knew was waiting for him below.
