“Before we get to the Dreamlands, we need to discuss your Jobs," Mom said. "Open your Status.”
“Status," Lawrence said. Lawrence changed his settings to make it viewable by anyone.
“At the top is your basic information,” Mom said. “Under it are your base Jobs."
Doctor Lawrence, male, Cambion-Starling, 16 years old.
“Happy birthday.”
“Thanks.” Lawrence did not feel much gratitude. “I am a level two Cambion, but not a level-anything Starling or a human.”
“Cambions, or Half-Demons, are a Demon Job,” Mom explained. “Starlings are new, and humans aren’t special, no offense,” she added, glancing at Scott.
“Hrmph.” Scott’s eyes narrowed. “Humans are more well-rounded. Sometimes, that can be an asset.”
“Yes, dear,” Mom said. She turned back to Lawrence, “Ooo, you’re level two? Good. You have the basic skill: Beast Physiology. But what is this? It says you’re a spider. I am not a spider. How did you become a spider?”
“I did a favor for a god,” Lawrence said.
Both his parents blinked.
“What?” his dad said.
“I helped out a god.”
“The new ones, or the dead ones?” his mom said.
“A—” Lawrence glanced at the two women seated at opposite ends of the couch. They waited, polite. “A dead one.”
“Huh.” Mom took a moment to process.
“Wow.” Dad’s brain seemed to be blue-screening.
“So, I’ve got the spider breed, now. All of the same rules still apply. Except it starts at rank two. What I wanted was the ability to make silk stuff. I got something like it.”
“Spiders and Beasts,” Mom shook her head. “Okay. So, you know all about how breed affects stats, right? Beasts have a couple of basic stat packages they get to choose from at level one, and their choice of claws or a bite attack.”
“Mom, can’t they choose to bite enemies even if they get claws?”
“Yes, son, but the Skill increases the damage by twenty percent. It stacks with the common mutations. The first link in the common Claw mutation gives an extra twenty percent damage. Choosing a breed package with claws enlarges your basic breed claws in addition to choosing the Claw mutation. Likewise with Bite. I recommend Bite. I have it. I used—”
“I picked Claws. Plus twenty Power, minus twenty Skill. Basic claws.”
“Don’t interrupt me.”
“Sorry.”
“Why didn’t you pick Bite?” Diana folded her arms. “You have a Contract strength 100 with me. I don’t like to enforce it, but I will.”
“I had my fill of biting enemies down below.” Lawrence glanced at Ferg. Her face was neutral. “One of the Skills I got let me steal mutations and skills by eating enemies. I had to kill them or be there when they died, or contribute to their death. I honestly didn’t like it much. It wasn’t long before I had too many Skills to count.”
“We are wolves, Doc.” The bones of Diana's jaw cracked, then broke, and realigned as her mouth extended a good six inches from her face. She bared her very-much-oversized-and-far-too-numerous-teeth. She had sharp teeth made for ripping and tearing. “We crush our enemies with our teeth and dismember them.”
Lawrence refused to look at his mother. He shrugged.
“When I was down below,” Lawrence hesitated. In a flash, he was back in Gulosus’ dining hall. Lawrence took a deep breath. “The first place we went was this fortress-thing made from a giant. The Program called it the Giant of Giants, I think. It was a turtle the size of a town. Demons had turned its digestive system into a giant mead hall. There was feasting. There was a gladiator pit. I fought in it.”
“Did you use a gun?”
“I used my teeth.” Lawrence opened his eyes. He looked at the carpet. He felt like he was going to be sick. The words came out of his mouth deadpan. “Before getting taken there, I was at a feasting hall. I ended up talking to this low-level sheep-demon, and he tried to get me killed by serving me up to the lord of the place as food.
“The guy had this aura-effect. I couldn’t stop eating. I even ate what turned out to be somebody’s head. I’m pretty sure. When I ate it, I got a notification I’d committed cannibalism. I gained a rank one red class. The words were the color of blood. The demon gloated for a while before eating me. He wanted to make sure I understood just how screwed I was.”
“How did you escape?” Dad’s voice was gentle.
“I didn’t.” Lawrence’s lower lip trembled. He clamped his mouth shut until he could breathe. He tried to whisper, but his mouth wouldn't work. He was acutely aware of four pairs of eyes watching him. He took another breath and tried to get his feelings under control.
“Well,” his dad looked around as if unsure of what to do. “We want to support you.”
Lawrence wanted a hug. He wanted to feel someone’s arms around him. He wanted a crushing reminder he was real, that he mattered. He wanted to know he was loved. He wanted his llama with its warm, stinking fur and its quiet humming. Words were nice, but words didn’t matter if he wasn’t listening. Actions mattered.
“I gained Rending Teeth,” Lawrence mumbled. He kept avoiding Dad’s face. “The Savage Class. I--here.”
Lawrence handed them his journal. Scott took it. He and Diana read in silence Lawrence’s account of getting eaten.
It was sweaty, pulsing, grasping, this thing that wanted him. Wanted to open him up and have his way with him and force itself down his throat and inside him. And then the mouth closed over his head and it stopped being anything like being held by a person. Instead of oil and sweat and lips and tongue it was intestines and poop and half-digested food and the remnants of wastrels. It was devoured souls endlessly healing their damage and falling apart from acid, ground up from rocks and debris and God-knows-what-else. And through it all, Lawrence kept eating.
Scott snapped the book closed. He and Diana shared a look. Something unspoken passed between them.
“The teeth skills saved his life,” Ferg interjected, quiet. “But I can understand why he wouldn’t want them afterward. No one would.”
“I guess you learned a valuable lesson,” Diana said. “Demons are dangerous. Hell is not some fantasy land like your dice game. It’s real. It’s horrible. There is a reason I left. I didn’t want to raise my son in all of that.”
“I love you, Doc.” Scott handed the book back. “I’m glad you made it back to us. I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks dad.” Lawrence swelled with pride, even as despair threatened to swallow him.
“Level two Cambion,” Diana said. She scrolled through his Status. “Breed Ranks. Beast one, Scent. Spider two, Eight Legs and Silk Spinning. Okay. Because you have status, all your status manifests, including Corruption. That means, your body will start changing.”
“I’ll get to choose the kind of mutation variants I get, right?” Lawrence said after some deep breaths. “I was thinking Scaled Coat for the armor one. Fish scales, and stuff.”
“Normally, yes, but your heritage is taken into account. You’ll inherit Monstrous Maw from me,” Diana closed her mouth. Loud cracking sounds filled the room as her bones broke then realigned, becoming a flat, human, normal-looking mouth once more. “Which means more teeth, and a wider bite. In addition, you have the Cauda Skill, which gives you a tail. And Armored Carapace, the basic defense mutation. Armored Carapace will make your Armor stat base 10. Plus your 40 from being a beast, which is leather or "light" armor in adventurer terms, 50 overall, equivalent to sports gear and an American football helmet. Your regular skin has the enhancement. You can wear other armor on top and stack the benefits.”
“I wish my soldiers could get that,” Scott commented.
“You also have the starting package of humans in Hell. Selectable, based on Prowess. Most mortals are Newcomers. It’s good you’ve chosen Faustian. You’re already a natural. You know prowess doesn’t do anything, right? It’s just a measure of what you know.”
“Having it unlocks some things,” Lawrence recited. “It’s required for other things. In short, while it provides no inherent bonuses, Prowess is connected to all aspects of the Program and cannot be underestimated. Because Civilization V is a strategy game, playing Civ V allows people to level their Strategist Job, for example.”
"Or Colony Governor," Scott said, smiling. "Thanks for getting me into Aven Colony. I didn't like it much, but I got a level for my trouble."
“Yes. Faustian. Faustian Sorcery 6 and Arcana 6, plus the Prowess of your allied group. Now, your group. You can choose from three to four. I’m also looking at your Contracts, by the way. No Uncle Winter? I thought he contracted you when you went to Nimue’s Tower.”
“Winter is dead,” Lawrence said. “I killed him.”
His mom did a double-take. Dad raised his eyebrows.
“I’m sorry to hear,” Dad said. “How did you—why?”
“His body was failing.” Lawrence looked his dad in the eye. “Falling apart. He was a possessor. He wanted to body surf into me and give me his old body. I exorcised him with Mom’s help. Then Cosmic Creepers sacrificed himself so I could get away. After Cosmic died, I went in and killed Winter.”
“How?”
“I ate him.”
“With your teeth?”
“With my hands.” Lawrence held up his smooth palms. “I had Eldritch Mouths on my palms. Two mouths roaming my body. They liked to sit on my hands. They ate him. Sucked him up like a giant vacuum. I got a Skill and a stat boost. I lost the Skill when I got my status, but I also lost the cannibal class.”
“Well, it all worked out," Scott said after a pause.
It seemed to Lawrence, his father had grown still. The kind of motion one doesn’t take when confronted with something disturbing. Like when a prey animal realizes they’ve wandered too close to a predator. He must have sensed Lawrence catching him in the act, because his posture relaxed.
“Contracts with a mercenary group,” Mom continued. “Contracts with Blood Well, with a Faustian company—Black Licorice? Never heard of them. Oh well. New companies rise and fall like wheels in motion. And Auric Cat.” Diana paused to give Lawrence a cold, hard stare.
He felt pressure emanate from his mother. He could not deny her will. She wanted something. He felt the strength-100 contract constrict his heart and his tongue. He could not refuse.
“You are not to accept their brand. Do you hear me, son? You are not to join Auric Cat.”
Lawrence wanted nothing more than to know why. The seducer corp was the surest way for him to get a girlfriend. Their company Skill, Related Knowledge, would come in handy in lots of ways. Lawrence was certain they were a good group to join. But his mother’s Contract came first.
“I hear you,” Lawrence replied. Before, he hadn’t planned on taking it. He desired combat-related mutations. He hated politics and seduction. With the company’s membership blocked, now it was all Lawrence could ponder. Related Knowledge was an excellent Skill. Furthermore, being more handsome would help in all sorts of ways. After a long moment, the pressure eased.
“Perks. 25% resistance to fire from your demon heritage. Normal-size Claws, Enhanced Bite, nothing out of the ordinary. This is new. What is Legendary Taboo?”
“Legendary Taboo?” Scott repeated. “Let me see.”
Diana went into her settings. She made her screen viewable by her husband. Lawrence watched their faces as the Program told them the Perk’s effects. Diana—member of Auric Cat—kept her face neutral. Scott—now a [General]—had a subdued reaction. He was wise enough to think before speaking.
“Boons,” Diana murmured. “Oh wow.”
“Holy cow,” Scott said. “This explains it.”
Lawrence kept his mouth shut. They did not know the half of it. He glanced at Ferg and Josephine, still sitting on the couch, patient. Lawrence wanted to go over his new Boons one at a time. He wanted to examine Pocket Treehouse and learn how to make sea silk. It would all require time, which was the one thing he did not have. More important: he was hungry. He wanted to eat.
“You have a demon Contracted to you,” Diana said. “Gnat. An imp?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you bring him with you?” his mother arched an eyebrow.
“No.” Lawrence shook his head.
“Well, that’s prolly for the best,” Dad said. “Thank you for telling us this, Lawrence. Don’t you feel a little tired?”
Lawrence felt pressure emanate from his Dad. He did, in fact, feel a little tired.
“Good night,” Lawrence said. His parents said good night. So did the two ladies. Lawrence meandered down the hall to bed. He closed the door. After a moment, he locked it. He debated what to do. Sleep sounded nice, but he was still hungry. Worse, he felt his parents wanted him out of the room while they chatted with the leaders.
Lawrence debated leaving. He wanted to hunt. There was a dungeon not far from here. The bloodlands were filled with them. Small caves, one or two rooms at most, with a critter or pack nesting. Treasure was rare. Regular animals did not desire such things. Dungeon monsters often hoarded treasure, if for no other reason than it was shiny.
The first monster he found would draw blood. Perhaps it would come close to killing him. Lawrence was confident he could survive. He knew this region. It was filled with dangers, but Lawrence could navigate. With his new Skill, Blood is Growth, he could power-level.
Instead he dug out some aluminum knitting needles and yarn. He cast on a bunch of stitches without paying much attention. He began knitting and purling. He alternated rows. He didn’t have much goal with his knitting. The act of doing it was the goal. His fingers ached for the motion. He missed the yarn sliding through his fingers. He went through a ball of yarn. He made the first item in an hour or so and bound it off.
You have unlocked the Knitter Job.
“Status.” Lawrence arranged a summoning circle with hangers and knickknacks.
Knitter—Lvl. 1 (+2 SKL, +2 AGI, +2 LCK)
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1. Beginner Stitches
Lawrence began chanting. It took him several minutes to decide which ritual to use. He did not want to spend more than one unit tonight, possibly two. He desired mastering the more powerful ones in his notebook. Casting them once would unlock them, and his prowess would rise. His level would also rise, as would his proficiency. However, they required much more resources. The simplest ritual was Ritual Preparation. It took the longest to cast—among the Program rituals he knew—but it was easy. Lawrence spent a single unit of SOL completing it while he knitted.
Ritual Preparation mastered. Faustian Job – Lvl. 7 (+2 KNW, +2 MNT, +2 SOL).
Blasphemous Chant – Lvl. 3 (+3 MNT, +2 SOL).
New Ritual unlocked: Purify Soul.
Purify Soul
Prerequisites: Malefic Arts – Lvl. 3, COR 50 or less.
Components: Purified water (consumed).
Cost: 1 SOL per 100 points of infernal corruption.
Casting Time: 1 hour.
Casting Difficulty: 12.
Failure: No effect.
Resist: Using MNT, negates effect.
Description: Purify Soul removes corruption points from a creature or person. The spell has limits: it cannot remove COR levels, but it can burn off the points one has gained toward their next COR level. The caster may affect multiple targets with the spell, though the targets must pay SOL towards the spell’s cost. The caster sprinkles pure water on the targets to affect them.
Lawrence’s stitches paused. He re-read the description. Disappointing. He wanted a ritual to remove corruption levels. He knew abstaining from sins had a chance of reducing corruption, over a long enough time. He did not have time. No one did. Time would only work if the person became a knight errant. A nomadic lifestyle would make it more difficult for Hell to drag one back. Good deeds could lower corruption, somewhat. Regular use of Purification was best, but with the cost so inefficient. . .
Lawrence continued knitting. He took up the next spell without waiting for his status to vanish. As he knitted and chanted, his thoughts drifted to Lily. Where was she? What was she doing? She was pretty, even beautiful. But her personality left something to be desired. If she hadn’t treated him like a little kid, he might have had a crush. Okay, if he was being honest, part of him had a crush.
How well did he know Lily? Lilith the opener. A siren with mortal shape or a similar mutation, therefore a type of fish person. Was it tentacles or fins? He did not know.
Loaded Ritual unlocked. Faustian Job – Lvl. 8 (+2 KNW, +2 MNT, +2 SOL).
Prerequisites: Malefic Arts – Lvl. 2
Components: None.
Cost: Varies.
Casting Time: N/A.
Casting Difficulty: 5.
Failure: No effect.
Resist: None.
Description: Loaded Ritual allows one to temporarily pause a ritual after it has been successfully cast. The ritual does not take effect until the caster releases the ritual.
When loading a ritual, the Faustian must pay a SOL cost of one point per day of loading. The caster may then release the spell at any time up until the duration is exhausted, at which point the ritual ends without effect.
If the ritual has a target, it is chosen when the ritual is cast, not when it is released. One may have any number of rituals loaded. If the caster is killed while rituals are loaded, they are released on death without effect.
Lawrence tied off the scarf.
You have created a scarf. Level up! Congratulations, you are now a level 2 Knitter. SKL +2, AGI +2, LCK +2).
He thought he had the knit and purl stitches down. It was time to move to a more advanced article: the sweater. A typical knitter would make progressively more difficult things. As with any skill, EXP would be ground slowly. And as with lifting weights, if one benched their max every time they lifted, one’s muscles would bulge. But their stamina would remain low. The proper way to grind was a mixture of skill proficiency and job experience. For a combat job, that was.
For an artisan job, the rules were a bit more concrete. All Lawrence had to do was make progressively more difficult items and he would gain more experience. The Job unlocked specific patterns, sure, but as with any other job, an experienced person could force an unlock. By making a sweater, the Program would realize he was much more skilled than he should be, and perhaps grant him an equivalent amount of experience. He could power-level. If he was successful.
Lawrence picked up a pair of slim bamboo needles connected by a plastic cord. This was called ‘knitting in the round,’ and it allowed one to make tubes of material. Lawrence made a tube of sable yarn. When he got near the end, he knitted multiple loops together to shorten the diameter of the tube. In addition, he alternated knit and purl stitches on the same side to create a ribbed pattern known as the rib stitch. Rib stitches were flexible. They stretched. The tube would create a wide sleeve with plenty of room, while the rib stitch made it gather together around his wrist.
Lawrence examined his creation. Knitting took a while. He had already spent a good two hours combining it with his chanting. He wanted to keep going with more chanting. He had one or two more simple spells he could unlock. He was close to level ten. He’d be able to get started on a second sleeve. However, his eyelids drooped.
Lawrence cleaned everything up and went to bed. He had some good ideas on what rituals to learn next. He needed to remember to thank his Mom for teaching him all about the Faustian’s Malefic Arts. Without her education, he’d be an idiot.
When he awoke, the sun shone through the blinds. He heard someone moving around downstairs. Lawrence debated getting right to knitting, but he knew he had work to do. He loitered in bed for another hour, hitting the alarm every ten minutes until it was time to go.
-
“You guys know how Prowess works, right?” Lawrence asked. A chorus of chirps, snarls, clicks, hisses, and screeches answered him in Infernal. “Okay. What I’m going to do is simple. You’re going to give me permission to look at your Statuses. Then, after I’ve seen your Prowess, you’re going to tell me what kind of build you want. I’ll offer three recommendations based on your desires versus your current strengths. Then, you’ll tell me what you want.”
“I’ll go first,” the blue lady raised her hand. “I volunteer.”
“Only because you’re the hungriest,” one of the drones said. He had a tie pattern tattoo, indicating he was at least level twenty-five.
“We need iliaster equal to twenty percent of our species level each day or we die,” Larissa said. “I am not waiting for one of you to go first when my requirements are double yours. We only have a few souls. They can’t generate enough for everyone.”
“They might be willing to be tortured more for you now,” Lawrence said. He sat cross-legged on the floor before a small circle. “Once you’re all changed, they won’t need to be tortured any more. They’ll be free. Knowing this, being tortured more now makes the change a little more speedy.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Larissa tapped him on the shoulder. She took a seat opposite him in the middle of the circle. “The rituals require obscene amounts of iliaster. The only way to generate it is with your chalice. You can only do it once a day. There are thirty of us, and we’re all high level. It will take thirty days to change all of us, no matter how much the condemned provide.”
“The condemned don’t know that,” Lawrence mumbled. “If you lie to them about it, it’ll make soul juice extraction easier for the rest of the month. Status. Torture isn’t—well, the humans don’t like it. Even if it is applied to condemned.”
“Lying for your own gain?” Larissa quirked an eyebrow. “We’ll make a proper demon out of you yet. Can you see my status?”
“Yup-puh,” Lawrence said. “Transforming Weapons. Halberd and one-handed axe. Quick Step. Leather armor, flexible not hardened. You don’t even wear chainmail. Okay. Do you know what you want?”
“Hmm.” Larissa smiled. “What do you recommend?”
“Well, your build style is basically a fast-moving fighter. A striker. You specialize in one or two specific weapons to the exclusion of all others. I’d recommend either a human, a type of elf, possibly a dhampir or a kitsune.” Lawrence flipped through several pictures on his tablet. He held up the screen so she could see. “Basically any humanoid with agility and a little bit of magic, so you can keep your hellfire mutations.”
“Strengths and weaknesses?” Larissa asked after a moment.
“Humans? Nothing. You get a ten percent experience boost, but no additional stats in any category, no basic skills, no cantrips, no nothing. On the other hand, no weaknesses. Fish-people can breathe underwater but can’t hold their breath. Humans can hold their breath but can’t breathe underwater. Likewise, fish-people can’t survive in lava-based environments, whereas humans can. Oh, and they can breed with just about every sapient species in existence.”
“Fun,” Larissa said wryly. “Next?”
“Elves are like humans. No EXP boost, but higher-than-normal base mana and mana regeneration. They also gain more mana as they age. Higher magical talent all around. Some species have boosted stats or Skills, or Prowess. Sub-species seems to be based on regional terrain. Sea elves can breathe underwater, see in low-light, resist extreme temperatures, et cetera. Dark elves have—”
“What types of elves specifically help my build?” Larissa said.
Lawrence thought for a moment. He turned the tablet around. He thought for a moment. He switched the list to racial bonuses. He unchecked a box and filtered by her highest Stat.
“Dark, Pallid, Sky, and Night. All elves have dark sight, some basic spells, low spell and poison resistances, keen senses, higher-than-normal Skill and Agility, and higher-than-normal magical talent.
“Pallid. Most of the same, but better vision and senses. Dark Elf spells are levitation, orb of darkness, light, and fire orb. Pallid elves gain spells related to shadow-manipulation. Shadow Walk, Shadow Passage, Shadow Cloak, et cetera. I’m fairly certain we saw Pallid or Twilight Elves when we flew over the dark world. Sky Elves: flight- and light-related. Almost exactly the opposite of dark elves.” Lawrence paused.
“I’d recommend the Night Elf. They look like you. You’ll get Shadowmeld, which is like a sneak skill, but you can’t move. They have racial evasion, which synergizes with your Quick Step Skill. Basic spells, though they have nature resistance instead of fire. Equal prowess across the board for all Jobs. They’re a popular race, for people rich enough to afford a species transmog. Thus, you won’t have to worry about hiding or standing out for choosing something exotic, or worry about prejudice. Oh, and you get a boost at night. All elves get a stat and often skill boost in their racial environments. Night Elves get their boost under the stars, no matter what environment. It’s based on the lunar cycle, so it even works underground. Dark Elves only get their boost underground. Cool, right?”
“Yes,” Larissa said. “Very Cool.” She looked without enthusiasm at the picture of a scantily-clad woman with magenta skin, blueberry hair, and twelve-inch-long knife ears. Lawrence could tell she wasn’t pleased to imagine herself as one of them. “What’s a dhampir?”
“Offspring of a humanoid and vampire. Heritage Skills depend on which humanoid you want. They’re considered undead, therefore negative energy heals them. Things like Level Drain spells, Harm, Slay Living. Positive energy spells like Heal will harm them. There’s a debate raging about whether they’re a distinct race or suffering from a disease. From what I can see, there are like five or six different kinds of dhampir and vampire. They also drink blood; some require it instead of regular food.”
“Sounds much like an iliaster requirement,” Larissa said. “They’re beautiful. They start with a high Face stat?”
“Yeah. They also have some crippling debuffs. Can’t cross running water. They don’t take damage from the sun like a full vampire, but they don’t regenerate resources in direct sunlight. At night, their environment boosts are second to none. Much better than a night elf. More like predators than people, really. Powerful dhampirs also have shapeshifting. Into a bat, or a swarm of bats. One variant has mist, but your movespeed plummets. Charm spells. Zombie-raising spells. Various other basic spells, all inherent from "birth." So on and so forth.”
“The point of changing my species is to eliminate a daily requirement,” Larissa said. “Next.”
“Kitsunes are a type of shapeshifter. Uh, fox and human. Powerful magic, agility, and so on. Foxes are often associated with a trickster god archetype. Make of it what you will. My personal recommendation is either an elf sub-race or a half-elf. Half-elves get the best of human and elf with none of the drawbacks. Beauty, prowess, agility, magic talent, but no EXP boost, no environment boost, no environment adaptations. Humans with pointy ears and longer lives, pretty much.”
“A type of elf, then.”
"Thousand-year lifespan, comin' right up." Lawrence flipped the tablet around. Larissa swiped through the different varieties of elf. She kept returning to the magenta-colored one.
“Can I pick my skin color?” Larissa glanced up from the tablet.
“Yes,” Lawrence said. “Within reason. It must be within the bounds of the race. Pallid elves can’t be blue, for example, they’re always white or gray.
“Can you make me a Night Elf but keep my appearance the way it is?” Larissa asked.
Lawrence looked at her. Blue skin, rounded ears. Hard, flat muscles. Long dark hair. “Yeah, I can.”
“Then I want the Night Elf.”
“Comin’ right up.” Lawrence chanted for a little less than an hour. He wore his robes. He had lit candles with an assortment of scents. Whatever was on sale at the candle store. He held his chalice in one hand and chanted for an hour while the crossbreed demoness waited, patient. When it was over, Larissa shuddered.
Her skin remained the same dark blue. Her ears elongated, becoming knife-like. Her eyes changed. The corneas became a light purple, almost pink, and the irises became an electric violet. Her claws vanished. Her hair became a dark shade of blue, almost black. Larissa rose.
“How do I look?” she said.
“How do you feel?” Lawrence said.
“Normal.” She slid her hands over her curves. She raised her hands to feel the elongated ears. “Status. . . I’m not resistant to fire anymore.”
“Yeah. Your base demon resistances don’t apply. Night elves have different bonuses, remember. Uh, an evasion chance or boost if you have the skill, resistance to plants, all skills are more effective at night, yada yada yada.”
“My COR is reset.” Larissa stepped out of the circle. She looked down at it. “You didn’t break the circle. I can pass through wards now.”
“There’s a lot you can do now you couldn’t before,” Lawrence said. He stretched. “Vice versa too. You will get hungry. You will get tired. You need food and water now. Three meals a day, every day. If demon society is one missed meal away from barbarism, mortal society is at most three. I also recommend showering once a day. Oh, and, uh, you’ll have to. . . um. . . learn to go to the bathroom,” he whispered.
“The bathroom.” Larissa looked uncomfortable. She gestured at a door leading to a conference room. “Is it this way?”
“You remember the time we found bathrooms in the Blood Well fortress?” Hyene said.
“Oh, OH,” Larissa said. “Of course. Now I remember. Yes. I see. I understand.”
“You, human Lawrence,” Hyene lowered his chin. “Can you do me next?”
“I can only do the ritual once a day,” Lawrence stammered. All he saw were the beast-demon’s oversized teeth. “It depends on when the chalice’s timer resets. Once every twenty-four hours.”
“Good enough,” one of the drones said. “We’ll take turns. The highest levels first. That way the weaker ones won’t have to starve.”
“What happens after?” Kat said. “If we can’t metabolize iliaster, we can’t go back to Hell. Even if our corruption is reset, won’t it just rise again? Even adventurers sin.”
“It’ll rise but not that high,” Lawrence said. “All mortals sin. No mortal Purifies themselves with the Malefic Arts. Most mortals never get their moral corruption above thirty-five points. Don’t forget, when people hit fifty they literally get dragged down to Hell, if they stay in the same place long enough. That’s like, super-rare. People just don’t get ‘dragged down to Hell.’ Even for the worst of humanity, it doesn’t happen.”
“Then we become adventurers,” Larissa said. “Some of my mutations became General Skills, but most did not transfer. I’m still plenty strong without them. My stats are proof enough. We’ll become adventurers. A few months in and we can start taking higher-leveled contracts. We already have some good gear. The drones can become businessmen. The imps can become messengers.”
“Couriers,” Lawrence said. “Is what they’re called. But yeah, once your species are all changed, you can do anything. You have the levels. And the Skills. You just need to get out of the Bloodlands colony and find someplace with less hostile wildlife.”
“See?” Larissa waved a hand. “Easy.”
“What will you do in the meantime?” Kat asked Lawrence. Hunting in the Bloodlands had been kind to her. She had hit level 40 and attained the fourth link in her Beast Physiology Skill Chain: Animalistic Mind (Mental). She now had a 50% resistance to all Psychic Damage and Mental effects. She also had the Drawback: Four-Legged Thing, meaning she had lost the use of her hands and become a quadruped. Still intelligent, cruel, amoral, vicious, and bloodthirsty, she just couldn’t manipulate tools. She had her forepaws crossed and her head rested on them. Feline eyes watched him.
“Knit,” Lawrence said. “Practice with a weapon or something. Ferg is forcing me to come with her to the VR studio. So, basically I’m gonna grind knitter and Faustian. Casting your guys’ ritual over and over will give me lots of EXP. Not as much as mastering all of my old rituals, but whatev’s. There’s simple ones I can do here and there.”
“Why did you even take Knitter?” Kat asked. She raised one eyebrow, skeptical. “I understand why you took Faustian, you’re already strong. But Knitter? Cambions don’t get as many job slots as full mortals. Why waste one on a production job?”
“It’s a good idea,” Lawrence said. He moved one of the new muscles in his back. He still didn’t understand how to move them. It was like learning how to walk again. His body refused to cooperate. Presently, he used his new limbs to pick up empty cups or pencils and mimic the motions of using them. “I like knitting.”
Kat snorted.
"It's because you're grinding dexterity," Larissa said. "Isn't it?"
"Yes," Lawrence said, emphatically. "I've got four spider-arms coming out of my spine. Supposedly they can generate spidersilk, but I don't know how. Learning to move them is hard. Grinding dex-based stats is the best way to get better with them. All three of the stats Knitter uses--Skill, Agility, and Perception--those are dexterity stats. Once my Knitter hits 100, I can pick a combat job like Duelist or Assassin and I'll be much better."
Larissa smiled. The demons traded looks.
"Why Knitter?" Kat repeated. "Why not take Assassin now? We could have trained you to fight, if you picked the right job. You said it yourself the bloodlands are dangerous. Leeching exists in this strange country, even more than in Tempest. You could have partied with us and gotten to a high level from our contracts."
"Proficiency matters too," Lawrence pointed out. "I need to grind Skills."
"Doesn't matter." Kat lifted her head. "Powerful skills can make up the difference. We don't mind helping you out if it means you'll grow stronger. We're a team."
"I like knitting," Lawrence said, faltering. "I don't much like being an assassin."
"Then Duelist," Kat said. "Or Gladiator. You have some human mortal in you. You must have an additional job slot."
"Well," Lawrence looked away. "I really hate rapiers. Being a Duelist means using one, since it's the preferential sword for dueling. Or a small sword. Gladiator. . . I just don't like it. My combat job must be important to me. It's going to be a foundation for the rest of my build. I wanted mage, but the yellow color job took it away. I still have every intention of grinding intelligence stats, I just don't know what the appropriate job is. An INT-based not-mage? Faustian is more like cooking than magic, or fringe science. And it takes too long to work."
"How about Knight?" Kat said. Her feline eyes bored into him.
"Defense-based fighter." Lawrence closed his eyes. Main Skills focus on armor bonuses, horsemanship, and bravery, and protecting others. Has a lot of overlap with leadership skills and Jobs, aura-based effects, et cetera. Yeah, I could see it. My mom is a noble of Auric Cat. Not sure how high up, though."
"She is?" one of the drones asked.
Lawrence opened his eyes. The bureaucrats were paying attention.
"Yeah, she is."
"She could patronize us," Larissa said.
"She doesn't want me taking their corporate mutation. I'm no judge on politics, but I'm inferring she may not be on the best of terms with them. She ran here after getting pregnant with me." Lawrence shrugged. "Prolly nothing, but it's something to remember. A patronage isn't going to happen. Even if it was, how does it benefit her? Adventurers are common in this world, even in this high-level Death Zone. Finally, being associated with demons isn't wise, no offense. She's a witch. Witches are hated enough as it is. Josephine is tolerated because she's a witch. And Ferg brought me home."
"Lady Josephine is a witch?" Larissa's eyes widened. "How do you know?"
"I have. . . kind of a sixth sense about these things. I know she runs a cult in Hell. She has a ship. Followers."
"Huh." Larissa studied him. Kat stared at him. Lawrence grew uncomfortable. He stood.
"Look uh, I gotta be somewhere. I'll be back tomorrow."
"Stay safe," Larissa ordered.