Whatever was out there, it was making Alan look like an idiot. The realization that this unseen beast was likely under Level 5 made him snarl and clench his fists. “Alright, fuck it. Let's do this!“ Alan muttered, focusing on his feet and activating [Elemental Manipulation].
Realistically [Blighted Sense] likely would've been the fastest way to locate his target. It also would've registered any other living energy signature in the vicinity, possibly picking up every individual molecule of water along the way. Until he was able to spend some time getting used to the sensory overload brought a out by that particular Skill, Alan wasn't comfortable with utilizing it while under threat of attack.
So Alan settled for activating [Elemental Manipulation]. He did so with the baseless assumption that the grainy imagery that [Water Manipulation] provided before getting assimilated into its new and far more versatile form was still intact. Never having tried [Elemental Manipulation], all he could do was hope for the best. Not to mention that he had never attempted to use [Water Manipulation] in this manner. Alan was unsure if it would even work without using his hands as the medium for transmitting his Skill-based underwater radar, but his worries were all for naught.
Before his Skill took effect, Alan caught a glimpse of something moving and canceled it altogether. A bright red crescent moon-shaped blur pointed in his direction. As if opening on broken hinges, the moon-shaped object collapsed backwards like a snake's overextended jaws. All of a sudden staring down at a spiky green tube, Alan got a tiny pang of impending danger, but the shallowness of the feeling assured him it was hardly worth regarding seriously.
Standing his ground, Alan leaned in for a better look and tossed out a quick [Appraise] just in time for two successive thuds. The first came in the form of a small underwater explosion as a small round object was launched from what he now understood to be some sort of spiky projectile launcher. The second thud arrived almost immediately afterwards when the golf ball-sized projectile in question cleared the surface of the water only to be slapped out of the air by a casual backhand.
Level 5 Pistol Crab: HP 107/107 (Highest Stat: 11 Endurance)
Level 5? What the fuck? I thought that beasts weren't supposed to be over Level 4 in the Lakeside Safe Zone?!
As if synchronized with the distraction provided by his incoming notification, the barrel discharged a three shot burst. They struck Alan one after another in a tight cluster just below his collarbone, his armor easily taking the impact and minimizing the blows to a minor discomfort.
“Now it's my turn.“ Confident that he had most likely taken the best this particular beast had to offer, Alan dismissed the notification with an anticipatory smile. he wasn't about to complain about an extra Level's worth of Experience. Summoned from inventory, his Basilisk Fang dagger materialized in his right hand, its sharpened tip already facing forward.
In the midst of lining up his throw, Alan paused, struck by a powerful impulse. [Light Weapon Mastery] practically sang out, urging him to take heed. Intrigued, a slight mental acknowledgement was all the Class Skill needed to activate.
Momentarily distracted, Alan found himself turning his sight inward, watching in awe as his Celestial Energy circulated through the pathways leading to a convergence of pathways at the leftmost side of the base of his skull. As if waiting for his oversight, a node in the center of the junction began to absorb Celestial Energy to power the inner workings. It contained a complex pattern of abstract symbols, one overlapping the other in a way that seemed to be without pattern or meaning.
A faint light began to spread. Beginning at the outer edges, traveling inward like a neon infection. Simultaneously, his Core emitted a short burst of Celestial Energy to replace what was rapidly being used.
Now that he knew what to look for, Alan realized that he had seen many such convergence points during the brief traversal of his pathways. Regrettably his introspection was cut short when the node containing [Light Weapon Mastery] lit up like a beacon hidden in the depths of his mind and came online. Although the activation process had taken a couple seconds at most, the Pistol Crab was already on the move.
Guided by a sudden influx of inspiration, Alan's body was quick to adjust trajectories. It was as if an HUD had been laid overtop of his sight. He could somehow see the beast's anticipated route laid out in a faint blue line that stretched around the perimeter of the small pool, as well as several several red lines that he assumed were alternatives should the Pistol Crab deviate from its current path.
While it was certainly an interesting ability, Alan could feel his depleted Celestial Energy stores draining rapidly. Worse than that, the beast was stirring up another cloud of silt causing several of the potential alternative trajectories to shimmer and fade from view.
It was remarkably easy to follow the Skills guided instructions, almost as if he'd done this a thousand times before. The simplicity led him to believe that with a bit of practice, this was a Skill that could be used instinctively. Although he wanted to gather as much information on the many uses of his Skill as possible, another red trajectory line faded away. Down to a single red line branching away from the Crab's current heading, Alan knew he was out of time. If he allowed the Pistol Crab to re-enter the silt he would lose sight of it entirely, putting him back to square one.
Locked on target at a point just ahead of where he would've normally thought to aim had he not been able to see a pair of green lines streaking out from the tip of his blade, Alan cocked his arm to the side, unsure of which route to choose. Each green line intersected with one of the two remaining trajectories markers, so there was always the off chance that he would choose wrong.
Why not pick both? Alan thought, flicking his wrist, releasing his Basilisk fang in accordance with the projected information and summoned his backup. Like he'd become some kind of a knife throwing robot, Alan's Tutorial dagger appeared in his hand and disappeared in a blur of motion before the first arrived at its destination.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
The Basilisk fang was knocked slightly out of alignment as it broke through the water and struck the Crab a glancing blow. As far as Alan could see, it didn't inflict any critical damage. It was a letdown that he had failed to score a lethal blow, however the sudden attack was enough to wound his foe. He wasn't looking forward to fishing the toxic blade out of the water, but the beast's indecision held it in place long enough for the Tutorial dagger to arrive. All in all, it seemed like a fair trade, especially when his Kill Log delivered the anticipated notice.
Remarkable! You defeated a Lvl 5 Pistol Crab! +60 Exp gained! Exp divided evenly between Race and Class.
Caught up in the thrill of using a new Skill for the first time, and curious as to what it considered to be a weapon, Alan dismissed the notification and did his best to ignore the feeling of Experience energy gathering up in a strange pocket underneath his sternum.
A Mana-Steel spike appeared in his hand. As the beast's life faded away, so to did all of its trajectory markers. A single green line stretched from the tip of his makeshift javelin, leading off into the distance. Without a viable target, it seemed to follow Alan's line of sight instead of remaining focused on a particular area. The fact that it worked at all led Alan to believe the spike had to weigh less than five pounds.
According to what he knew, at its current Level, [Light Weapon Mastery] was only compatible with One-handed weapons that weighed no more than five pounds. Wielding the rod like a club caused an immediate shift in what his HUD overlay was displaying.
A faint holographic outline of Alan appeared on the opposite shore, facing away from him as if in staunch refusal to even look at the water. It was an interesting development, but Alan shook his head and dismissed his weapon. He had more pressing matters on his hands. As of yet, all he had seen of the Pistol Crab was its namesake claw. He wanted to get it out of the water as soon as possible and examine it for any other oddities.
Because it was under Level 10, it was doubtful that the crab possessed a Beast Core. After the disappointing outcome of his barbequed Roc kebabs, Alan was more than willing to settle for a heaping pile of crab meat.
The Basilisk Fang was leaning up against the embankment, it's hilt conveniently in full view just below the surface. Saved from having to risk jabbing his finger on a poisoned blade as he blindly groped around the silty bottom and stirred up yet another cloud, Alan stored his blade and lifted his fresh kill out of the water.
“GROSS! WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!“ Alan shouted, flinging the hideous creature out onto the rocky beach. Unable to help himself, Alan sniffed at his hands and had to fight back the urge to puke. The fucking thing smelled like it had been stewing in fermented feces for the last nine months. His face a mask of confusion and disgust, Alan scrubbed his hands as best he could and exited the pool. He was unsure whether or not there were any more crabs left in the hidden nooks, but after the first glimpse of what he had been so thoughtlessly swimming with, Alan had no interest in searching for more.
While the System called the ugly little fucker a crab, it looked more like a big ass turtle with a segmented shell that had been flattened out to streamline its profile, making it extremely hydrodynamic. A single oversized claw protruded from a slit in the front, taking place of a head and likely cutting back on its maneuverability. It's beady yellow eyes were perched on either side of the shell. Each was hidden under a curved spike from behind which began three rows of crested ridges that ran from the front of its shell, all the way to the back, starting off fairly large but tapering off to little more than shallow bumps where they met the shells jagged back edge.
“Since when do crabs have three foot long tails?“ Alan pondered, bracing his foot against the slime coated shell and tugging his Tutorial dagger from where it penetrated the lightly armored hinge at the midway point of its shell. Knife in hand, Alan lifted the dangerous looking tail with his blade and studied the needle-like serrations covering its surface, as well as the fang-like spike at the tip.
Holy shit man! It's probably a good thing I kept my distance… There's no way this thing isn't poisonous.
Flipping it over on its back revealed a hideous assortment of spindly bug legs and the rancid stench of decaying meat. Alan considered hucking the rancid creature out onto the lake. If not for how disgusting the scorpions had seemed before cooking them, Alan would've followed through on his first instinct.
Instead, hoping that against all odds it would somehow be delicious after cooking, Alan tossed it into his Storage Case and proceeded to the base of the staircase. As he started to climb a feeling of anticipation began to build in the pit of his stomach. With each step he took towards the churning fog waiting just above, the sensation grew in intensity. To the point that by the time he took his fifth step, Alan had to fight against an almost overwhelming urge to sprint headlong up the remaining twenty or so stairs.
As Alan's head crested the top of the bluff and passed through the eerily dry mist, he felt as if he had crossed into an alien, and hostile environment. Not only was he subjected to an unanticipated vision of carnage, but in stark opposition to the stomach-turning scenery, his Core positively hummed with unconstrained desire. There was no sign of Su'ong, but that did little to ease his nerves. Something in that tower was urging him to disregard the field of death laid out before him and move forward.
Even this far away from the tower, the energy in the air was so heavy that it had a physical presence. Its weight pressed down upon Alan's shoulders oppressively, making him wary to proceed even as his Core greedily consumed all the energy it could handle. Raising his chin, and straightening his spine, Alan exhaled his fears and took a step forward.
As if taking offense to his presence, the ambient energy around him grew thick and heavy with an ominous presence. All of a sudden, Alan felt like he was walking underwater. It was an unpleasant sensation, but unless it started to affect his breathing, he was determined to proceed.
Sensing his resistance, the energy seemed to redouble its efforts to restrain him. Right as it became too much to handle, his Core released a concentrated blast of freshly converted Celestial Energy that had an immediate calming effect on the environment. Once more able to proceed, Alan shrugged his shoulders and did so with a fair amount of hesitation.
The carcasses of what had to be dozens of Banded Roc's were strewn from one end of the unnaturally flat island to the other, which provided him with another reason to falter.
Looking past the dried blood and piles of scattered feathers, aside from the lonely tower and copious amounts of dried bird shit, the grey stone surface of the island was utterly bare. Strangely enough, it seemed like the top of the cliff had somehow been sheared off with laser-like precision and then replaced with a tower.
There was no plantlife of any kind. Not a single scrub brush, nor scraggly weed saw fit to call the island home. In fact, as far as Alan could see, there weren't any cracks in the stone for roots to find purchase in the first place.
Although the layout made little sense when putting any real thought into it, he was coming to understand that there wasn't much in the way of sense to be found in a world governed by the System.