"Same as yesterday," John ordered with a tired smile on his face.
"Of course," Slayer of Gorax'thal replied and began preparing three lunchboxes. "How is the journey outside of your Sector?"
"Hmm, I'd say well enough," John nodded. "We just finished clearing the fourth Nest and unless I was severely off, we are roughly halfway to the Territory Hierarch's arena."
"Woah, are you really going to challenge him right away?" The youth perked up. "Isn't it just a little too risky? Not that I would underestimate your prowess, but…"
"Yeah yeah," John waved his hand to forestall the youth's worries. "We are first going to secure the location and then explore around it, collecting ash for better cards."
It almost feels like cheating, having access to not only hot meals but also to the obsidian merchant's emporium.
"Here are the boxes and remember, this one with the yellow flower is giving a temporary Focus, that one is Vitality and the one with the painting of a bronze statue is Strength."
"Thank you," John smiled and carefully lifted the top from the one with the flower, breathing in the exotic aroma. "Ahh, it smells like heaven."
Closing the lid, he placed his palm on the yellow crystal before him to send the payment. After that, he grabbed the boxes and rushed out.
"I come bearing gifts," John called out after stepping through his archway and walking toward the makeshift camp that Galan'il and Dilah'ec put up in the meantime.
"This one's for you," he handed the box with a painting of a bronze statue on its lid to Galan'il, "aaand that one's for you Dilah'ec,"
"Thanks, you are the best!" She cheered, already peeling off the airtight lid and diving in.
"John, we've been talking about our advancement into D-grade," Galan'il suddenly spoke out after finishing a particularly large bite of a green vegetable, "and she wants me to wait until I get my Fate to match, but I worry about keeping up. I have a duty to protect…"
"Don't you dare to throw away this opportunity because of me? We are doing fine so far and you are only missing seven points!"
"Hmm, I'd agree with her. The only real threat was that massive monstrosity at the gas station, but otherwise, we are really doing fine. From what you've shared yesterday, we should earn three points of Fate from the Nests and if we get lucky, we could get one or two for any special trial we uncover."
"In that case, we should visit the closest city and find Al'drul's Emporium, because that's the only way I can unseal my cards."
That was the annoying complication with his Bastion. He could take their ash and secure the trades for them, but all sealed cards were innately soulbound, leaving the Aerilians with dozens of cards stuck at uncommon rarity with no reliable way to upgrade them.
"Hmm, we could try following the highway until we see an exit leading into a city," John offered.
"No, we should keep moving," Dilah'ec suggested. "Our best strategy is to find the closest Sector to the Hierarch's arena and secure a position there."
We need to clear five more nests to max out the Fate reward and after that, we can up our pace and head straight to it, he pondered.
"If we push ourselves, we could arrive by the end of tomorrow," John said. "I don't want to sound cruel or dismissive, but trying to help towns between us and our goal will put too much strain on our shaky timetable. Let's finish with the Nests and rush toward the arena."
Not that I am looking forward to seeing the ruins of the villages that transformed into the Nests either.
That was the other thing he learned about the Apocalypse. Human settlements smaller than a town worked quite differently. Instead of a Sector divided into a couple of Zones, there was only a single fortress—an Outpost—erected in the middle. Inside were simplified System stores and the inhabitants had to work together and pool their resources to upgrade the Outpost and its stores to obtain more benefits.
However, should that Outpost be overrun with the undead, it would transform into what the System called a Nest, a ruin filled with dozens of undead and in its heart an amalgamation of a peak D-grade monster that granted anyone who delivered the killing blow a single point of Fate.
Taking a bite of the round spicy vegetable he was leaving for last, John enjoyed an explosion of flavors that started in his mouth and morphed into an electrifying buzz cascading through his body.
"Ahh, that hit the spot," he shivered as the buzz petered out, leaving him with five extra temporary Focus.
"I'll take the first watch," Galan'il volunteered, letting John and Dilah'ec get a few hours of sleep.
"Wake me up after two hours. I can sleep a little shorter than you."
Seeing him nod, John crawled into his makeshift bed, covered himself with a borrowed cover from the Inn, and drifted into sleep.
----------------------------------------
"What is this?!" He mumbled in horror, looking at the devastation before him. "Shouldn't this be the village?"
"This," Dilah'ec answered with a sad shake of her head, "I am afraid, is what the System calls a Nest."
After a disturbing explanation, they began their careful advance, killing all the typical undead in their way. That, to their disgust, changed the moment they stepped into the center of what used to be a bustling village and came upon something worse than all the horror movies he'd ever seen.
The cobblestones first turned into mud, which further changed into a puss-ridden fleshy surface pulsing like a beating heart.
"What in god's name is that?!" John once again asked, hearing the ground squelch under his boot.
The first new undead was something akin to a zombie, but instead of rotten skin, it looked like a human that was flayed but kept alive.
[Flesh-drone {E}]
"Watch out, there's more of them coming!" Shouted Galan'il, tearing him off from his stupor.
"We need to kill all of those and destroy everything with any sign of this foul magic," Dilah'ec added and unleashed her corrosive beam into the drone's face."
"Argh, you are making it look even worse," Galan'il scrunched up his face, watching the fleshy figure's head sizzle and melt away.
"Shut it and help out!" She quipped back and all three of them got to the grizzly work of dispatching drone after drone until the whole perimeter around a bulbous structure in the middle was clear of any hostile targets.
"What now?" John asked, wiping his blood-soaked hands on his soiled shirt. "Do we really have to go inside?"
"Yes, and remember. You must be the one to deliver the killing blow to the queen," Dilah'ec answered with steely resolve in her voice. "Let's finish this!"
Cutting a wet membrane covering the only clear entrance, they descended a couple of meters down until they arrived at the nastiest flesh-cavern John could have ever imagined, and the worst part of it was the undulating mass lying in the center.
Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.
"Fuck me…" John muttered and heard a similar sentiment from his companions.
Before them was a fifteen-foot-wide chunk of crimson flesh and sticking out of it were over a dozen humanoid torsos of varying sexes and ages, but the thing they had in common was that all their heads were staring right at him.
The inhuman screech that followed sent chills down his spine and he felt a shudder run through his body, followed by another.
----------------------------------------
"What?!" He shot out of the bad, ready to…
"It's… It was just a dream, John," Galan'il said in a soothing voice. "I… You said to wake you up after two hours, but I can let you rest more if you…"
"No, it's ok," John sighed. "I'll be fine, just give me a minute to collect my thoughts."
In… and out… in… and out.
He did simple breathing exercises for a few minutes until he felt grounded again and slowly opened his eyes. Galan'il was standing next to him and silently keeping watch.
"Thanks, I am better now. Let me take over so you can get some rest."
"I don't know how you humans deal with stuff like this, but when I faced something similar during my training, my mentor sat with me and described his own experiences, helping me understand that what I went through was normal and nothing to be worried about. If you want, I can…"
"Maybe later," John declined. "We… We have a lot to do and you need the rest."
Seeing him nod, John felt a little bad and added, "I do appreciate the offer though. If it gets worse and your offer is still open, I'll take it."
A small smile tugged at the corner of Galan'il's mouth as he crawled into his makeshift bed.
At least the Willpower attribute is helping me out.
This wasn't the first time he felt the echo of the horrors called the Nests, but just as higher Strength made his body stronger and Vitality made it more sturdy and with a faster recovery rate, he found out that Willpower significantly shortened the length of time his mind remained imbalanced.
Living through a fight with something like the Juvenile Flesh-hydra would have broken the minds of many men, yet somehow, his mind remained grounded. As if all the horrible things that happened during this Apocalypse were barely of any significance and only surfacing above the lake of calm that was his mind when directly thought about. It was not only the experiences, but also the smells, sounds, and everything else.
Hell, by now he barely even noticed the rancid smell of a Rothound. Sure, if he focused his sense of smell, he would, but otherwise everything was normal.
That part might also have something to do with Perception and Focus, but who knows, he concluded after spending a couple of minutes in thought.
Finding himself a good vantage point on top of a collapsed house he sat down and watched over the camp before him. His three minions were floating a few dozen feet above the camp, ready to ravage any wandering undead that came too close.
Like that, the minutes stretched into hours, with the only disturbance being a pair of Rothounds cluelessly trotting toward the camp from the east. Funnily enough, his minions tore them to burning shreds before the pair made it halfway there, letting John remain seated and observing in a peaceful silence.
As his watch was nearing the end of the third hour, he willed his card into his hand and made a quick check-up on his progress.
[John Miles {D⋆}
Feral intuition (E)
Champion of the Fourfold Crucible (E)
Unbreakable mind (Unique)
Nightstalker's Awareness (Un)
Troll's Blood (Un)
Hand-crafted heart of the Pale Eternal (L)
Cold resistance (C)
Predator's Guise (Un)
Hardened Bones (C)]
[Universal connection
Increase Affinity effect (E)]
[Animate blessed stiletto (E)
Increase melee penetration (C)
Increased minion movement speed (Un)
Increased minion combat distance (Un)
Wicked wounds (Un)
Lesser minion camouflage (Un)]
[Storm Wisp (R)
Increased minion attack speed (Un)
Increased projectile distance (C)
Heavy impact (Un)
Minion camouflage (R)
Weakening strikes (R)]
[Desert Wraith (R)
Increased area of effect (Un)
Increased minion movement speed (Un)
Increased minion combat distance (Un)
Crippling pain (Un)
Lesser minion camouflage (Un)]
[Purifying Flameling (R/E seal)
Increased minion attack speed (Un)
Increased minion movement speed (Un)
Increased minion combat distance (Un)
Fuel the flames (Un)
Lesser minion camouflage (Un)]
As his eyes roamed over the rows of cards, his face stretched into a wide grin.
Spending time to fully deck out all of my abilities was sure worth it.
It cost him a couple of thousands of ash, but the outcome was far better than he imagined. Not only did most of his minions grow in destructive power, but the lesser variant of the minion camouflage was already paying dividends.
It didn't fully shroud their presence like the rare variant, but even the half-translucence and dulled noise made them easier to overlook and much better at ambushing their targets—especially the mindless undead.
Moving to his main body, he brought out the other screen.
[John Miles {D⋆}
Strength: D (40), Perception: D (40), Vitality: D (55)
Fate: C⋆ (110 + 5)
Dexterity: D (40), Focus: D (40), Willpower: D (40)
Soul marks: Shroud of the Fate-Stalker
Elevated bond: Witherfang {E⋆}
Excellence: Apex Progenitor (L)]
The only changes here were the extra four points of Fate and the increased grade of his bond.
That was another hilarious situation, he chuckled, remembering Galan'il disbelieving and Dilah'ec's surrendered reactions. It felt like until now, I was doing something unthinkable and then I followed it up with something even more ridiculous.
His chuckling morphed into a burst of full-blown laughter as he remembered the lengthy explanation of how it all came to be.
To his surprise, she shared her knowledge about the odd ability he manifested during his fight with the behemoth, calling it Temporal Iteration, and explained its major drawback. The first iteration apparently has a one-day internal cooldown, but if he pushes it into the second iteration it becomes five days and the third iteration multiplies the cooldown by another five into a lengthy twenty-five days. Luckily, the usage inside the trial didn't count.
It should be a bit over three hours, he guessed and jumped down the ruined house.
"Wake up," he nudged Galan'il's shoulder. "I think it's time to pack up and get on the move."
Opening his eyes, the Knight-Protector calmly crawled out of his sheets and went to wake up Dilah'ec.
Helping them out to pack up, they were ready to move in a record time.
"So, the plan is to clear the remaining nests to cap the Fate rewards?" John asked as they began their jog in the Hierarch's direction.
With the sparse presence of the undead in the countryside, they were able to keep their pace for half an hour until John noticed a movement in the distance to their left. Squinting his eyes, he focused on the rather large mass, gleaming under the morning sun.
[Bone Golem (D⋆)]
"A Bone Golem," he announced. "Do we take it out?"
"Sure, it's only a few minutes for two yellow ash piles." Galan'il immediately agreed and they turned left.
This wasn't the first time they tackled the hulking creation and the easiest way was to use his stiletto and kite it around until it fell apart.
The golem was a wide mass of crisscrossing bones held up on four spider-like legs and with six narrow limbs ending in sharp ivory tips.
"Right foreleg like the last time?" Dilah'ec asked and seeing the nods unleashed a corrosive beam into the joint in the middle of its unnatural limb.
John took a position next to her and followed with a combined barrage coming from his minions and his own javelin. Watching Galan'il skillfully evade the spinning or stabbing arms, he remained in place and directed his minions to make distractions to inconvenience their artificial opponent.
The tug of war tipped in their favor when the weakened joint shattered from a well-placed slash and the golem changed its legs' positions into a tripod.
That served as a cue for Galan'il to fall back and they continued the fight simply jogging around the slowed opponent until the stiletto finished its part and turned it into dust.
"Good job everyone," John congratulated on the flawless execution and gave one yellow to Galan'il and the other to Dilah'ec.
That was their agreement. Leave whites and blues to the ones with the killing blow, but share the yellows equally. Since he got to keep the last piece, these two were theirs.
With that done, they turned northwest and resumed their jog.