It took an entire day, but I’d done it. Using my skeletal knight and its enchanted sword, we hacked up almost an entire truck-sized block of the eternal ice, making a mess out of the trapped bones and nearby snow. But I knew in my heart that we wasted not a single second of our efforts.
The hard part was waiting.
My plan required patience, as wonderful schemes are wont to do. So, we occupied ourselves with slaying the ghoul tongue vines around the tower.
The first attempt was comical.
My minion attempted to pull down a vine that I’d hit with Famine a few times, but its friends didn’t take too kindly to seeing their mate getting ripped away like a pair of dirty underwear. Four creepers attempted to snatch up my minion, forcing it to defend itself. The activity drew the attention of other vines, and before I knew it, they cocooned my MVP.
Strong as my guardian was, it couldn’t hulk its way through so many vines. I wasted maybe an hour of constantly casting Famine on all the plants before there was enough give for it to hack its way back out. Then, after they were so sluggish they could barely put up a fight, I emptied my remaining mana with Degenerating Touches. The tactic never failed to work on the vines.
The amount of mana in the monsters was mouth watering. It was hard to make an accurate count of how many of the plants I slaughtered, but I guessed the number to be between ten and seventeen. Nearly enough mana to finish out the tier.
Thankfully, there was still a plentiful amount of the rotters to ensure I advanced.
As we continued killing the plants, a seed of doubt wormed its way into my heart. What if level three was as far as I could go? The last message I’d gotten spoke of a marquee evolution. I assumed the message meant I wouldn’t get another chance to be any of those other things on the list. But what I hadn’t considered was that the Naram-Sin was telling me I’d be nothing else.
Was I wrong to assume that my path of progression didn’t have a limit? It wasn’t like I had the knowledge, or even a guide to explain my boundaries. I could theoretically end up being a level three, tier one hundred zombie that had every fart and bite ability available to the undead. It was a very disconcerting thought.
The silver-lining was that I didn’t hate being a zombie. Being undead was incredible; I failed to find a single flaw with the condition. A zombie, however, was slow. For one second every minute, I got to use Spring Forward and feel like I was human. To feel that joy of being a free spirited child with hope.
Life had taught me it wasn’t afraid to shatter dreams. I’d made the mistake of taking the codex and the possibilities it offered for granted. I let myself get caught up with excitement, and I knew better.
Steeling myself, I returned my focus to the vines. Either I’d get what I wanted or I wouldn’t. All that mattered was that I pushed forward. In the end, marching was all that any of us could do. Standing still meant death. I knew that better than anyone.
I brought the tip of my spear down across the root bundle, then twisted the point, breaking up the blacked fibers. A tar-like pus oozed from the monster's core. And I finally got the message I’d yearned for.
You have sufficient mana to advance a level. Please choose from the following list.
* Zombie Brute - you gravitate toward using physicality for future advancements. Your death mana reinforces your muscles and bones, swelling you to a new size. Provides the trait: Superior Might - you have powerful strength, far outstripping that of a normal living human.
* Zombie Stalker - you gravitate toward using agility and cunning for future advancements. Your death mana increases your speed. Provides the trait: Hide - as long as you remain motionless in sufficient darkness, you are invisible.
1. Putrid Zombie - you gravitate toward using poison and disease for future advancements. Your death mana will swell, increasing expendable mana. Provides the trait: Horrific Mien - your appearance is so disturbing that even stalwart heroes may be shaken with fear. Note: Choosing this advancement will remove the trait: Halted Decay. To compensate you will receive: Disease Spreader - your bite has a chance of infecting a living creature with zombification.
I groaned out a hissing chuckle. The sheer absurdity of being happy that I got the option to pick an evolution like Putrid Zombie was too much for my fragile emotional state. I broke out of the codex and rolled on to my back, laughing. When I saw the trait Disease Spreader somehow making its way back again, I laughed all the harder. Abatur was a strange world.
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Despite my good humor, there was a fat chance I’d take Putrid zombie. The extra mana sounded great, and would probably be useful for whatever lay down that path. However, there was no way I wanted to be a rotting corpse. I still prayed that I’d be able to leave the bowels of the earth one day and explore the sunlit world above. Maybe even do some traveling. That would be a lot harder if I had to do it looking like roadkill.
Besides, I've been there and done that.
So, the only point of contention was between the first two.
Brute sounded amazing. I’d never been strong before, and I loved the idea of becoming even tougher. I’d seen firsthand the danger that kind of power could bring. My skeleton was a marvel, and I envied its destructiveness. Combining the weapon skills I got from my greater blessing with terrifying strength would make me a capable warrior. Good enough to go toe to toe with melee classers.
Stalker provided a more risk averse path. Giving me the capacity to choose when to fight. Also, the keyword about gravitating toward agility and cunning really spoke to me. I much preferred the path of reducing my enemies to sagging husks before engaging in combat with them. There was a thrill to figuring out a way to takedown a stronger opponent—even if it was as simple as throwing a robe over their head.
The decision came down to an idea I admired and who I was. Back in my physical therapy days, I’d grown to look up to my German immigrant therapist. He was a big meathead with a toothy smile that never stopped encouraging me to hate him. Yet, his never quit attitude commanded nothing but respect. The way I saw it, I was busting my ass off just so I could be normal and walk again. This guy went to the gym every day and did this stuff to himself for fun. His results spoke for themselves. How could I not wish I had the faculty for that kind of discipline?
Still, I knew in my soul that I was a lover, not a fighter. I was no coward, but neither did I thrive off of struggle—be it internal or external. No, I knew stalker was the only choice that would give me what I truly desired: the freedom to decide when to fight. All of my previous choices supported this decision.
I selected Zombie Stalker and got my tier one prompt.
Please choose a trait for your tier. Zombie Stalker - (I)
* Infectious Blood - your blood carries a deadly pathogen, contact can infect a creature with zombification.
* Crushing Bite - your bite can crush bone, bend metal, and rend flesh. Your teeth are reinforced.
* Sense the Horde - you have an instinctive compass for nearby concentrations of other undead.
* Track Blood - you can smell the exposed blood of the living and track them down by it.
* Hear Heartbeat - a pounding heartbeat is like a whistle to you. Your range increases the more afraid the person is.
* Ambush Predator - attacking an enemy that isn’t expecting it will send out a burst of necrotic energy, enhancing your damage.
This one wasn’t really a tough choice for me. I liked the idea of Hear Heartbeat because it would help me with the inevitable conflicts I would find myself in with classers. And in the future, I’d probably end up grabbing it.
Ambush Predator, though, was the first real offensive ability the codex offered me I’d wanted. It was also exactly in line with the way I preferred to settle accounts. I picked it, then left the leveling space.
Unlike previous level ups, turning to a Zombie Stalker wasn’t nearly as dramatic. The thorny mana pathways that ran from my core to my muscles slimmed down and split apart. The result looked like a network of metaphysical wires following along my nervous system. Though the transition burned and itched terribly for a few minutes before settling down.
I popped up to my feet as fast as a normal person!
“Yaaaaayyyyy!” I said, still sounding like I had a mouth full of burrito. But I didn’t care. My firmest wish had finally come true.
Running across the courtyard, I snatched up my ghoul hand and tossed it in the air to play a game of catch. Then, we played chase in the shallow snow. I tittered and pranced after the hand, and threw snowballs at it. The hand tried to throw them back at me, but it couldn’t. I was too afraid of what might happen if I had the skeleton try, so that game got boring quickly.
As I ran about like a muppet, it occurred to me I might no longer have a use for my staple ability Spring Forward.
I was wrong.
After a brief sprint, I activated Spring Forward and my newly enhanced reflexes combined with the trait to launch me seven feet into the air. The shocking flight sent me careening into the ground, and I barely arrested my fall with a tumbling roll. Naturally, after I brushed myself off, I did it seven more times.
I didn’t just have to use it to jump. The level trait also let me dash forward into a full run from a standing position. Or, if I activated it in tandem with a martial attack, I could create an unprecedentedly forceful blow.
By the time I finished experimenting with my new nervous system, I’d noticed that my earlier scheme with the ice had borne fruit.
Across the entire bowl shaped courtyard, I’d strategically placed broken pieces of the eternal ice. Now, nearly every square inch of the stone ground sat under a nice layer.
This is the best day of my life!
I grabbed the long thin blades that I’d had my minion grind down for me from the eternal ice. Then, using strips of ghoul tongue vine I’d carved up with my knife, I attached them to my boots.
It was time to ice skate.