Yini, the beautiful half-orc who looked quite fetching despite the pale green cast to her skin and her petite ivory white tusks… who, despite her self-identifier, could just as easily pass as a powerfully-built elf girl with a splash of orcish blood that still gave her full access to her Gunner Class, was glaring at Eric in wide-eyed disbelief.
“Your half-dead sister’s bombed palace is a single blinking green in a sea of hostile red and this is your plan? Have us all formally join your sister’s doomed faction before this magical watchamacallit ends at first light, and count on you to handle things?”
She shared a look with her husband Mory, the pair shaking their heads and laughing. “Child, are you serious? It’s one thing to have gotten the drop on our former employers, but there are literal armies out there, eager for your sister’s head, and now they’re backed up by merc companies! Not mid White-tiers like my husband and I, but actual fuck-all Bronze classers! Monsters on the battlefield, much like the ones you and your sister might have gotten the best of once, but a Negotiator Profession won’t do you shit when bullets and plasma are flying!”
Yuki, Steve, and Jack exchanged glances, Yuki rubbing her forehead before glaring at Eric.
“What the fuck, Eric? Do you seriously expect to take on orcs, ogres, goblin snipers and those gnoll champions in your fucking shredded shirt and bluejeans?” She flashed a rueful smile. “I mean sure, I get it. You look absolutely hot as fuck. If this were a movie… but it’s not.” Her smile turned grim. “Our lives are on the line, Eric. And sure as hell, we’ve been cutting things way too fucking close all night long.”
Steve gave Elonia a sympathetic smile. There was no question she looked as regal as any queen at that moment, with commander Valorn and her men at parade rest behind her. But there was no hiding the peril of their situation. Not with the System’s message blinking past all of their eyes.
The Sylvan Alliance, led by Queen Elonia Silver is in DIRE PERIL!
Multiple opponents have placed
Likelihood of survival without heroic intervention is estimated to be less than 3%!
Do you wish to join the Sylvan Alliance?
Note! Should your faction survive for at least 1 week, you will have accomplished a ELITE-TIER FEAT, and be eligible for titles and boons by the system!
Even Eric had gotten the last message, earning a sheepish grin from Elonia.
“Of course I have to try. You’re a catch, bro.”
“I understand.”
“Dude, I can’t tell you how much I’d love an Elite tier title!” Jack said, eyes lighting up momentarily, before giving Eric a look. “But even if most people would absolutely kill for that…” He shrugged awkwardly.
Eric’s smile didn’t waver, pinning Jack with his eyes until the boy flinched and looked away.
“Jack.”
The boy winced. “Eric, I’m sorry it’s just that…”
“I got this.”
This earned multiple incredulous stares.
“You have what, exactly?” Mory, the captain of their artillery company, asked.
Eric spread his arms wide, indicating the entire map, presently zoomed out just enough to encompass all the red tiles around Queensland, up to and including a now fallen Ashland and Freetown.
His smile turned hard and cold as his hands, opened with warmth and friendship, as if offering his friends the world on a silver platter, suddenly squeezed tight with fury. Now crackling with higher order concepts of Fire and Ice that had everyone lurching back, all of them ignoring a sudden blaring interface message involving multiple goblin seers screaming for immediate injunctions.
“What the jeezus fuck!” A frightened Yini cursed.
Mory paled, instinctively squeezing his wife’s hand.
Yet Steve’s look was one of rapture. “I think… fucking hell, I’m having a breakthrough!”
Eric nodded. “The way I see it, grabbing destiny’s reins as the underdog and forging a tale worthy of the ages is a great fucking way for us all to grab a bunch of revelations, epiphanies, insights, or just titles and level the fuck up. Because if any of you are at all eager to become Bronze yourselves, one day…” And how odd it was to see so many jaded eyes, so much more experienced than his own latch on to him with breathless anticipation. Almost as odd as the fact that he now understood truths utterly beyond their ken. Truths no doubt held back from absolutely everyone who wasn’t well into Silver already.
He winked. “Nothing strengthens a shaky foundation like than forging an absolutely epic tale with your own, personal, hero’s journey. Who knows? It might just be enough to turn your own dreams into reality where your manifest destiny is to transcend the limits of your own foundation and break through to a Bronze at the very least, where your future is shaped by your own legend far more than the limits of biology, chance, and the luck of titles or fortuitous encounters.”
Mory stiffened, glaring at Eric for long moments. “Bullshit!” He hissed, for some reason gazing at Eric with something close to terror. “Rumors and wishful thinking!”
“The phoenix has risen.”
Eric smiled coldly at the looks this earned from absolutely everyone in the room as he dared to utter those words on this night alone, where all his friends would forget everything he said come first light, where everything that had occurred would have somehow always been, set in stone as if a thousand years ago. Or weeks ago, perhaps. Whatever fit the tale of their lives.
But their souls knew.
He could tell by the way they trembled before him. Even his sister, gazing at him with such an odd mixture of awe, wonder, and despair as the entire Sylvan faction, thirty surviving elves, fell to their knees and wept for joy.
“She has ascended upon a two thousand year old tale of her own making. A tale of wonder, tragedy, and bitter triumph you can’t hope to fathom. And after tonight, won’t even think to.” Eric flashed a sad smile. “But I can tell you this much that hopefully you’ll recall. There’s a reason why my race puts such stock in fables and dreams, in carving your legend upon the bedrock of fate. For it is upon the hearts you touch and the tales you weave that you can transcend past all limitations, all strictures, all roadblocks and become the living legend, the hero, you were always meant to be!”
Eric gazed calmly at his speechless friends, acquaintances, and allies. “So I invite you all to join the greatest underdog in the entire Northeast Sector, who’s cause is just, her dreams pristine, perfectly positioned to forge a tale of redemption and wonder like no other. It is here and now that you can join our tale and forge yourselves into the adventurers, the heroes, you were always meant to be!”
Even Elonia was gazing at him with something frightfully close to reverence as Eric calmly rose and bowed to the table. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some business to take care of.”
“Eric!”
He stopped and turned around, smiling at Lady Valorn who’s cheeks were flushed as anxious green eyes peered into his own. “Please, let us kit you up in armaments befitting a prince.”
Eric’s eyes twinkled. “Do you happen to have any mithril mail shirts lying about?”
Lady Valorn winced, bowing her head. “Although we lack legendary artifacts, we do have the finest steel in the land, Your Grace.”
Eric nodded. “Fine equipment for your men, and our friends. I will leave you all to it, then.”
With that he left the manor wearing nothing more than a tattered shirt and too-tight jeans.
***
Eric closed his eyes, taking a deep breath that smelled of pine forests and wild-flower filled fields, rich with the scents of loam, smoke, and crisp clean snow, the air alive with the taste of magic and the bitter screams of the fallen as countless monsters sought to weave their own tale upon Terra’s surface.
Eric clenched his fists, never having felt so strong. So alive!
He took a breath of cold winter air as he embraced the power of his ring once more, just one more anonymous elf slipping free of his seemingly doomed faction’s palace to gaze into the whirlwinds of ice and snow protecting the castle and a mile of land in all directions.
Yet far from the despair he had seen in so many Sylvan eyes just minutes ago, all he felt was exhilaration.
The thrill of the hunt to come.
He shivered with excitement, sensing not just hundreds but thousands of reds steadily closing in as a pressure wave of twisted crimson magic sought to undue his sister’s desperate last stand, a final protective ward she didn’t dare cast a second time lest it rupture a foundation strained to the point of being a single hairline fracture from shattering forevermore.
Eric’s lips curved wide in a feral grin as he inhaled the air like a scent hound, tasting the flux of magic in the air.
At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to spring forward.
Yet he stood there for long moments, sensing his environment, a scent of polymer-rich grease he had grown familiar with over multiple encounters that had never been a thing here on Earth making it clear that despite her best efforts, Elonia’s would-be killers had still gotten through.
Perception Check made! You spot your foes!
Eric was off in a flash, even before fully registering the interface message as the air flashed with a brilliant arc of plasma, rupturing the shimmering illusion of a swaying cove of trees his Infravision had pinged right past, revealing a nest of wide-eyed goblins and a single armored power suit that looked absolutely nothing like Jurgen’s crew, now pointing his monstrous cannon Eric’s way.
DUCK!
His instincts screamed warning, Eric instinctively bending Wind and inertia to his will as he slipped past a brilliant stream of obliterating plasma that tore through the air, setting his hair ablaze and leaving massive gouges of superheated soil and rock exploding behind Eric as he frantically dodged for all he was worth.
“It’s an elf who thinks we’ll let him leave the doom of his faction. Kill him! Kill him!” Screamed one of the snarling goblins with a far smaller blaster of his own in hand, sighting a smiling Eric for a second blast in time with the massive plasma minigun being fired by the true muscle of their operation as a second goblin readied a triple shot crossbow armed with Bronze-tier poisoned quarrels, the air flashing with plasma once more.
The trio of goblins sneered Eric’s way, as if about to enjoy an entertaining execution, and no more than that.
The sniper goblin frowned. “That little shit isn’t wearing a uniform. He’s wearing little more than rags! I thought we already had the Freetown elves in collars?”
The crossbow goblin shrugged. “Some of the guild rogues thought they were clever, helping so much of our property slip free of their doom before heading to Queensland. Ha! Poor fools. As if we’d actually let any of those guild factions escape their destiny as carbonized soul steel! The orcs and gnolls will wipe out those fuckers long before they can unite with the Sylvan Alliance!”
Quickness Check made! You’re now making better use of arboreal camouflage than your foes!
Then the goblins’ cocky smirks turned to looks of wide-eyed disbelief when Eric seemed to disappear before their eyes.
“He’s gone! The little shit’s gone!”
“Ready yourselves for ambush! He’s an elven fuck. He’ll use the trees for cover!” Shouted the clearly experienced Bronze-tier power suit bringing his minigun to bear once more to tear right through the trees at waist height, clearly looking to obliterate Eric, or at least deny him any cover or easy passage at all.
And maybe it would have worked, if Eric had been no faster than Minos Trueblood, a Rank 10 Bronze Contender who had been the favorite protege of a powerful plan who had had such plans for Terra, before encountering the Roundear wildcard that had already thrown so many carefully constructed gambits into wild disarray.
Yet the Eric of today was nothing like the Minos of just a week ago, as the panting merc soon found, armored head reflexively turning when he saw a brilliant fiery flash as the first of three goblins exploded into fiery crimson paste.
The remaining pair of assassins screamed and flinched, former cocky sneers wiped off with wild-eyed looks of panic as they instinctively froze like the prey animals they ultimately were.
More than enough time for Eric to claim the Mark II Deathblaze held in the tight grip of the closest goblin by the simple expedient of tearing the goblin’s arms off. In case the fuckers had bio markers, contact poison, or other fancy shit he really didn’t feel like dealing with right then.
“Goobla!” The final goblin had time to scream, gazing in horror at his companion yipping and howling like the diseased chihuahua he so resembled, spraying the survivors.
The power armored Bronze instinctively turned before flinching and stumbling back at the sudden spray of white-hot flame and superheated gore smoking and boiling as it spattered against the chrome casing of the final opponent.
“What the fuck! Command, I got a live one! He’s Bronze, he has to be!” The merc shouted in a strained voice, Universal Translator perfectly making out the man’s words after just a few sentences, a coldly smiling Eric hovering right behind the now frantically turning Bronze who did a full 360 before giving a dismayed shake of his armored head.
“My goblin squad just got wiped! I thought you said Jurgen’s crew had this? A hundred million and all we gotta do is watch for fucking stragglers! What the fuck! This ain’t no straggler! We got other merc corps breaking covenant!”
“Did you ID the striker?” Said a tinny voice coming from the man’s helm.
“Are you serious? If I wasn’t suited up and shooting plasma, I’d already be dead!”
“Copy. Sending assistance your way.”
“A full squad, Ace. No more of this white-tier auxiliary bullshit! Not if we’re dealing with other merc companies trying to get in on this fucking free-for-all, and fuck if it’s some wild card Contender! I’d better be getting fucking hazard pay if I gotta deal with —”
The merc’s voice died off as he stumbled back when Eric was suddenly before him.
Find Weakness Check made! Identify skill check made! You sense multiple stat pools in the 200-250 range, and the flaws in your opponent and his gear!
“Fuck! He’s here, right here in front of me!” The seven foot tall power armored merc chuckled coldly, shaking his head, his fear of moments ago easing to assurance once more. And really, what did he have to be afraid of? Just an unarmored kid wearing nothing but tattered clothes and a maveric grin. “Little shit must be a speedster. If fifty years in this business have taught me anything, it’s that he’s fragile as glass though.” He then switched dialects as his entire suit began to hum and radiate multiple crackling fields of energy. Eric couldn’t help but nod in grim approval, sensing was both a repulsion field and a stun field, the perfect counter to melee speedsters who used accuracy instead of force, and focused on Quickness far more than endurance.
Good. His enemy wasn’t a complete idiot. But what really surprised him was the mecha suit’s speaker actually managing a degree of comprehensible if broken English.
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“Cute trick, little shit. You looking to die that badly?”
Eric’s smile widened. “Looking for a challenge, actually. Love the denial field, though. I’ll bet it’s great for lightning fast idiots who are about as fragile as a mosquito. I think now would be an absolutely awesome time to test that ward of yours. What do you think?”
“That’s Prince Eric!” Said the overly excited voice on the other end of the man’s comms. “Jurgen fucking dropped the ball, letting him go! He’s out of the compound, that means he’s free for the taking! You’ll get fifty million straight to your account if you can bring him in alive! Twenty if he’s dead.”
This earned a roar of laughter. “You arrogant little shit! I’m gonna blast you to purgatory, you know that?” The man pulled out a mithril collar only because Eric chose to see what he’d do with the hand he had slipped into a pouch secured to the armor. “That is unless you play it smart and put this nice little collar around that pretty little neck of yours.”
Eric smirked. “I have a better idea. How about you pull out that vibro blade you got on your hip and we see if we can make this interesting?”
For some reason this request alarmed the power-armored Bronze who lurched back and snarled, his plasma mini gun tearing through the ground at ankle level, obliterating the ground as the merc laughed coldly. “Hell no, you little shit! How about I blast off your feet, collar you, and make a fucking killing bringing you in, you arrogant lit—”
You have successfully dodged Plasma Fire!
You have successfully dodged Plasma Fire!
You have suffered one glancing blow.
Glancing blow damage magnified By Mark-4 Enhancements and Multiple class perks!!
Elemental Resistance of 56 Reduces injury!
Enhanced essence affinities (you are one with Ice and Fire!) reduces Wound intensity.
Crippling Injury reduced to Light Wound!
You have suffered 75 points of damage.
You have successfully disarmed your foe!
He couldn’t deny how good it felt, the look of wide eyed surprise and fear in the very human looking mercenary who’s features were exquisitely clear through the tinted face plate, thanks to Eric’s Unified Perception. Even if he also felt a bit stupid, because he was closing with a Bronze-tier monster who had mastered his plasma weapon long ago. Without using any spell to hinder or stun-lock his opponent, because he just had to try to grab Eve’s approval and forge himself as cultivator and classer at the same damned time.
Yet by some miracle, a glancing wound that would have torn most people’s arms right off, even a high level White-tier… did little more than shred his skin.
“No. Not even the captain’s that fast. Who the fuck are you?”
You have successfully channeled Burst of Strength! You have successfully claimed your foe’s Mark 4 Hyperion Minigun!
“What the, no fucking—”
You have critically struck your foe!
You have successfully pierced Denial Field! 10% of your damage has been mitigated by Denial Field!
Elemental Resistance has reduced retributive strike to Flesh Wound! Your knuckles have been singed!
Knuckles have fully regenerated.
You have successfully ruptured Denial Field!
The mercenary’s words were cut off in mid rant when he was sent flying back, a full ton of mana-enhanced chrome, steel, and countless components cartwheeling end over end, the reinforced chassis of countless exotic alloys now sporting a football sized crater as the merc’s armor crackled and sparkled with wild electromana currents as his protective wards collapsed
Eric flashed a fierce smile, flipping the minigun he had claimed into storage right beside the plasma rifle with the arms of its original user still attached as he slowly approached his present opponent who very much still had both his power armored arms he was even now using to stumble back to his feet with a groan as the overwatch officer known as ‘Ace’ screamed in his helm.
“Unit 1, get up and out! Up and out! Your opponent’s a fucking monster! Authorizing full stim enhancements, get up now!”
The merc lurched to his feet, servos wining with a wheeze, before jerking back to see a madly smiling Eric before him once more.
“Draw your vibro knife. Make this interesting,” Eric crooned, heart racing as he savored honing himself against his Bronze-tier opponent, pushing himself to the utmost, forging himself in the furnace of his enemies’ hate until the blade of his resolve became so strong and bitter sharp that no one and nothing could break him.
Not even the mechanized giant now roaring and charging right for him, the air crackling with the actinic glare of a knife crackling with currents so strong that Eric was pretty damned certain would have seized an elephant’s heart and cut through tungsten steel with ease.
“Die, you fucking freak of nature!” Eric’s would-be killer roared, ignoring the panicked cries in his comms, so hopped up on whatever he was using that all he saw was red.
You have successfully dodged Lethal Barrage!
Snap kick catches you off guard! You have been sent flying back!
You’re laughing!
“I will kill you, you little shit! I’ll cut off your fucking head and mount it on a plaque!” The snarling Bronze lunged, before stumbling back as the air rang with the crack of Eric’s shin slamming against the man’s armored legs before the merc charged forward again with a roar.
Only to find himself lurching and stumbling back yet again as Eric juked past the hand holding the killing blade, The air ringing with the crack of high tech ceramics shattering under the force of yet another snap kick from Eric’s shin that was definitely bruised but not bleeding at all from the exchange.
Now the man was stumbling, wheezing for breath and in obvious pain, both his armored legs sporting cratering dents that had to be biting into his flesh.
“Fucking monster!” He wheezed, eyes wild with whatever Bronze-tier cocktail of drugs his suit had poured into his bloodstream. He roared like an enraged beast, lunging forward for his smirking opponent with a blow that wouldn’t be denied.
Yet it didn’t matter how hard he thrust when the fiery-haired monster just laughed and twisted aside, vibro-knife spitting current that would kill most mid-tier whites in an instant, a weapon that should be utterly illegal in any other time and place, kissed nothing but air before the night rang with the sound of armor shattering and the merc’s surprised scream.
“Fucker broke my—”
Only then did the night explode in a glorious surge of flame, the merc’s words cut off forever when Eric’s shin slammed against his opponent’s helm with his final kick, finally tapping into that glorious, wonderful fugue he had embraced by his mother’s side just hours ago… a lifetime ago. The promise of so many glorious revelations just a single whisper of enlightenment away as he tasted epiphany yet again.
His smile was glorious as he gazed down at the crumpled heap of high tech armor just a few yards away. Glad that his opponent had actually kicked him, reminding him of his own duty to himself. To unlock all his power and potential in every way that he could.
Now, he was one tiny step closer to achieving Rank 30 in Unarmed combat and claiming that Cultivator’s Resilience perk that would have such a profound effect on his ability to endure any blow, doubling all of his resistance pools, so long as he was willing to permanently sacrifice a portion of his Qi Pool. Which he most certainly was.
Eric would gladly trade safety for illumination as he struggled against a Bronze’s killing spiritual pressure which, conversely, made it all the easier to feel out his own spiritual energy flows and finally unleash his attack in a manner he had never dared before, save as a happy puppet by his mother’s side.
Yet now he was free, able and more than willing to use all the terrible lessons he had learned that endless night, reveling when it all finally clicked, channeling his fiery fury against the strongest point of spiritual resistance he could face at that moment, the head of his dazed enemy fighting with all he had to survive the monstrous contender lashing out at him with an angle kick and shins that blazed like phoenix fire… then all was blackness and illumination as a Bronze-tier killer with decades of battlefield experiences faded to oblivion and the trembling youth before him howled with the sweet fires of his own ascension.
Congratulations! You have critically struck you foe!
Helmet has been destroyed! Skull has been obliterated!
Fatality!
Experience Earned!
Golden Phoenix is now Level 36!
Golden Phoenix is now Level 37!
Golden Phoenix is now Level 38!
Eve approves of this battle as you hone yourself against the crucible of Bronze!
You are now a Rank 39 Death’s Disciple!
You have honed your unarmed combat skills against a Bronze-tier opponent!
Unarmed Combat is now Rank 24!
Fire Fist has transcended all previous limitations! You may now freely channel Fire Fist through either fists or through your shins!
You have achieved Level 20 in Fire Fist! Fire Fist has evolved into Fire Strike! Quickness, Finesse, and Spiritual Energy have each increased by 3 points!
You have reached Adept Rank in Fire Strike! How do you wish to evolve your ability?
Endless Blows – You revel in the madness of battle and would happily take on an entire army with a never-ending stream of blows! You now only pay half the normal cost in terms of physiological fatigue or Potency Pools accessed by this skill!
Power Strike. - You have already unlocked a handful of secrets once the sole province of an ancient martial clan. For double standard potency cost, you may now infuse your fiery blows with added explosive power! Now you do additional damage equal to your strength in terms of raw percentage. - Hidden Boon! Most White tier martial artists never achieve your degree of Strength! Where a gifted young master with 50 strength will enjoy an added 50% damage bonus with his Fire Fists, you will (at present) enjoy a 470% Damage bonus and increased Fire Explosion Radius! - Embrace the Body Cultivator’s highest ideal, and let your Strength work for you!”
Eric felt it then, that roaring inferno of transcendent Flame within him as the essence of light, heat, and destruction intertwined with transcendent concepts of Wrath.
There were other ways he could evolve his skill, if he dared.
Yet as enticing as the idea of delving ever deeper into the essences of Wrath and Flame might have been, cold pragmatism also had its place on the battlefield.
The good news was that he was no longer burning alive with hyperion energy.
Yet that also meant that his Soul Reserves were limited. Exceedingly So. Few foes could endure his Ice Fire Strike, but after a double handful of blows, he would be drained of his most limited potency pool.
So far better to make full use of the potency pools he had in absolute abundance. Especially if it involved getting a skill enhancement that would allow him to unleash explosions of fire like never before.
Endless Blows was unquestionably an excellent choice, as it would cut the cost of spiritual energy and the Soul reserves he might burn with higher order explosions of flame in half. As it was, a Transcendent Fire fist would deplete him faster than Ice Fire strike!
Yet there was another path he could take as well.
For the cost of only 20 Qi, his Fire Fist would become an explosion of flame, enhancing all his other strength and unarmed combat damage modifiers by an absolutely absurd percentage boon equal to his Strength, allowing him to hit with nearly five times the incendiary force as he could right now. And those strikes wouldn’t deplete his Soul Reserves and equally important after tonight, wouldn’t send any red flags to seers or sages or whatever thought police would be making sure that no native stepped out of their place. Not that he wasn’t planning on dealing with those hypocritical assholes, but he would choose the time and place for their eventual confrontation, not they.
Best of all, if his hunch was right, he could further enhance Power Strikes to unleash a massive explosion of Transcendent flame, even if such would effectively cost a whopping 40 Soul Reserves. The point was that he’d have that final lethal attack as an option.
He laughed aloud in fierce joy and wonder, making his choices and, with a careful glance making it clear that frantic mercenary companies weren’t in range of his fists quite yet, decided what to do with an absolutely glorious 54 attribute points to spend as he chose. Fortunately, there were no penalties for inconsistent selection. The fiery pool of unlimited potential would stay the same for all of them. It seemed like the System was more than content to let him grow and blossom in whatever way he would as he vindicated the earliest steps of what could be a Gold-tier ascension path that would allow any of his or his mother’s descendants to ascend to the cusp of Gold without sacrificing any planets at all.
Since he and his insane mother had already destroyed over a dozen planets forging this glorious golden path in the first place.
“Don’t think of it. Don’t FUCKING THINK ABOUT IT! We survived. Earth survived. Because I gave a fuck! So put all those screams aside and just focus on the glorious NOW!”
Eric clenched his fist, squeezing his eyes tight, ignoring the screams, putting aside the screams. Why was he screaming? He and his mother had saved every last planet within the Sylvan Alliance. Together! And now he was embracing the greatest rush of his life! Yet his weakness was glaringly obvious, even to him. So much rode on Soul Reserves, and it was one of his lowest attributes.
If only he didn’t fear those squirmy silvery wormies… no matter how much they claimed to be his friend. He still didn’t want his friends smiling in his mind as he peered and judged his own soul. So the points would go into his physical stats alone, thank you very much, and he could only hope that his increased understanding of his Path of Endless bounty might reveal a hidden boon as well, if his visions with Lilly were anything to go by.
“Regardless, I know the stats I have to boost.”
He chuckled softly. Because he did indeed know that stats he had to boost. The same ones that had allowed him to come so far, so fast. Because in the crucible of battle, physical and mental agility were everything. Being able to think and process information quicker than one’s opponent had always been the key to his survival. And even if his Finesse and Perception now only needed to match Quickness to get the full Glorious benefits of Battletime, there was already a 240 point gap, give or take, between Quickness and the other two stats. It would be best if he didn’t let the gulf between them grow too extreme. Still, for now, There was no reason not to maximize both Quickness, Speed Racer and Battletime.
Then he froze, eyes widening when he realized what an idiot he was being.
So used to twisting everything to extremes, just because he could… when if he just took a second and truly appreciated the fiery seed that was his soul blossoming into its true potential… he’d notice the gentle flickering sparks in each and every one of his core physical stats, his Perception, and his four potency pools. The same stats Golden Phoenix had given ten point boons to would now each ascend a single gentle point each level by virtue of his class, without any System wormies or ‘help’ at all.
All he had to do was leave half of his level up points alone, like seeds left to germinate in fertile soil, and do what he would with the other 27 points.
So he did just that. And for the first time in a very long time he savored the rush of insights flooding his mind even as his body tingled with sweetest potency, his thoughts becoming so sharp and crystal clear as a fresh attribute boon was claimed in one stat, and another crested a glorious 700. Perhaps best of all, he got to savor a tingling potency in a corner of his mind that he feared he’d never be able to enhance save by daring the most perilous of delves, as his Psionic Potential, a characteristic his interface showed as odd alien symbols more often than not, shot up to 53, with 639 Psion points to Fragor the fuck out of all his friends and foes.
Cold laughter that sounded eerily like his mother’s echoed through the bitter cold night. Eric’s eyes lit with a brilliant golden blue flame as he trembled with a fresh surge of sweet, sweet power. Earning four levels with a single encounter, having dared to take on a Rank 10 Bronze Mercenary and the goblin assassins that were now little more than shriveled ash.
He glared down at the corpse for a final moment before bowing his head in respect for a battle well fought as both man and Bronze Tier armor vanished into his ES Space. Because as wild a rush as it was, had Eric tripped, lost his focus, or otherwise been hit dead on by the plasma minigun that was now his newest toy… this glorious tale might have taken an unexpected turn.
But still.
He clenched his fists and trembled with joy. And to think, just hours ago he had feared losing all sense of joy and accomplishment after making the ultimate sacrifice. Yet the glorious ascension he had experienced with his mother was already fading like a halcyon dream. And never had he felt so alive, so alert, so one with his environment as he did at that moment, as the 54 points he had used to reforge himself, the 9 points he had earned with his Adept tier Unarmed Combat skill, and the 15 stat points automatically placed with his latest cultivation level were all modified an additional 80 to 90%, thanks to all his title boons.
He had just earned over 140 points, or what amounted to 28 Standard 5-point Class levels, with a single encounter.
And the hunt had only just begun.
He howled into the wind after taking a quick glance at his condensed character sheet and absolutely loving what he saw, caring nothing if he was giving his location away to the entire world.
He had already vanished, darting away so fast before the first arcane shell made contact, tearing through the earth, now that the merc company knew their Bronze tier heavy hitter was a past tense.
And that was fine with a laughing Eric.
More than fine.
He was eager for the hunt.
He hoped his prey would be ready as well.
_______________________________________________________
Eric Silver Level 38 GOLDEN PHOENIX (Adventurer)
Rank 39 DEATH’S DISCIPLE (Four Seasons)
Level 31 Master Necromancer
Physical Characteristics
Strength – 475
Vitality – 506
Finesse – 408
Quickness – 703
Appearance – 29
Mental Characteristics
Scholarship – 27
Perception – 398
Willpower – 99
Charisma – 15
Potency Pools
Arcane Potential – 303
(Mana Pool = 3638)
Spiritual Energy – 376
(Qi Pool =4514)
Psionic Potency – 53
(Psion Pool = 639)
Soul Reserves – 163
Stamina – 5061 Points
Health – 6297 Points
Resistances & Recovery
Physical Resistance – 98
Physical Regeneration – 50 health per second
Elemental Resistance – 57
Qi Resistance – 72
Mental Resistance – 46
____________________