Novels2Search

Chapter 4

Malik looked at the first three lines of his personal texts, finding that he did indeed obtain a new class.

Name: Malik Race: Gargoyle Class: Founder

Reinvigorated to learn more, Malik approached the altar again, placing his hands on each side of the smooth stone. A large book emerged from the top — the cover was made of rigid leather, dyed forest green. There were two words printed on the front — Founder’s Log. Gripping the sides of the book, Malik found that it was held in place by the same unseen force that previously locked his hand to the altar.

Still, he was able to open the front cover.

Index

1. Citizens

2. Buildings

3. Resources

4. Building Plans

5. Sustainability & Growth

6. Trade

7. War

Malik began flipping through the pages. Most were blank or filled with zeroes under various categories. The section on Building Plans appeared to be the only part of the book with any information available.

Building Plans

Incubation Chamber - Level 1

Resources Required: 30 tons of stone, 15 beast cores, 1 pint of blood from a First Child

Production: 1 Citizen per week (Founder Perk: First citizen born upon completion of the building)

Altar Generation: 1 Altar Point per Citizen hatched

Construction: Instant (Founder’s First Building Perk) - Form a circle with the gathered materials.

The rest of the section was blank, leaving plenty of room for more plans. Malik thought about the required resources. He didn’t know how much thirty tons of stone would be or what a beast core was, but he knew that he would need to provide his own blood to create the structure. The thought made him shudder.

Malik wondered if the beetle had such a core and raced off toward its body. He figured that the core should be somewhere under the shell and began to pry it off, silently hoping that he didn’t accidentally eat the core. With a strained pull, Malik managed to peel the shell back, snapping tendons that had connected it. The sight below forced him to recoil. There was already an army of smaller bugs that had begun to feast upon the beetle’s carcass.

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Flapping his wings, Malik tried to generate a gust of air to scatter the bugs. The effort managed to knock a few of them off the carcass, but most greedily held on to their precious meal. Malik’s lip curled into a sneer, exposing his sharp fangs, as he shoved his clawed hand through the squirming bugs and into the carcass. Wiggling his hand around the mushy beetle, he fished for a stone of some sort.

After a full minute of this with no luck, Malik groaned and repeated the process on the beetle’s head. This time, his fingers quickly found something hard and jagged. Gripping it in his hand, he rushed to the water to wash his hands and the stone. Now clean of the muck, he examined the stone. It appeared to be a crystal, milky white in color. A text appeared for Malik.

Junk Tier Beast Core

Malik frowned at the description. “Junk Tier” didn’t sound like a material he wanted to use in his first building. He decided to keep the beast core in case he couldn’t find anything better. However, he quickly realized that he didn’t have anywhere to store his things. Malik sighed and began to search for a place to make his own.

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Hundreds of meters below Malik’s feet, pickaxes clanged rhythmically. Short men, with long beards and bald heads, hummed a haunting tune as they swung their tools. Further down the tunnel, more of the hairy men carved runes. The runes glowed to life, emitting a warm light, extinguishing the darkness beneath the mountain.

Garok, a taller and thicker version of the bearded men leaned against a great double-edged axe in the center of the tunnel, supervising the workers’ progress. He listened closely to the ringing pickaxes and was rewarded with a different pitch as one of the workers struck the stone, finding a different material beneath.

Holding a fist into the air, Garok shouted, “Halt!”

The humming and clanging came to an abrupt stop. The workers parted, making room for their giant of a leader. Garok stuck his scarred and pockmarked face close to the rock and blew a sharp breath, scattering the dust. Just as he thought, there was a bright silver shimmer beneath.

He turned to one of the workers and curled his finger, beckoning a nervous-looking bearded man forward. Without a word, he snatched the pickaxe out of the man’s hand, making him jump, and shoved his greataxe toward him. The worker stumbled back, straining beneath the weight of the greataxe.

Garok swung the tool with one arm, smashing through the surrounding rock and exposing a large vein of the shiny metal beneath.

He turned to the workers with a glint in his eye, “You may call yourselves proper dwarves today, lads. For you have brought honor to your bloodlines and the Runesmith Clan!”

The workers cheered and beat the tops of their pickaxes against the ground.

Trading the pickaxe back for his greataxe, Garok called out, “Well, what are ye waiting for? We dig up!” he shouted, pointing a finger toward the ceiling.

The workers were injected with fervent energy and began extracting the precious metal at a blinding pace. Garok grabbed the arm of one of the rune crafters, ordering him to report their findings to the clan elders and request reinforcements.

Resuming his stance against his greataxe, Garok smiled, dreaming about the promotions and wealth he would receive after this long expedition.

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Hundreds of meters above, it had begun to rain. Malik had never felt more tired and uncomfortable. Was this what it was to be alive? To suffer? He thought.

Finally, there was a small cave at the far end of the valley among the peaks, vacant of beasts or rain. Malik crawled inside shivering, wishing that he was made of stone again. He vowed to build himself some sort of shelter tomorrow, adding to the quickly growing to-do list. First, he would find something to eat. Perhaps another beetle, but he hoped for something tastier. Then, he would map out a space for his shelter and Incubation Chamber. Lastly, he would need to learn more about his Founder class.

Malik’s eyes started to droop as he thought of all the tasks he needed to accomplish. The anger slipped away, replaced by a smile. He was alive.