Alistair had only just under four hours to severely impair and injure two separate monsters and safely bring them back to his house. While the pressure weighed down on him, another part of him was excited.
He had so many responsibilities in his past life. He was expected to have a nice paying white-collar job, he was expected to enjoy certain movies and books and TV shows, and he was expected to always put on a happy façade at social events. Despite everything that had happened, he somehow felt freer.
Of course, Alistair would never forget his larger goals. He had to find his girlfriend, his friends, and hopefully, his family as well. With the Internet and all cellular being mysteriously taken down, he had no hope of that in the short term. All he could do was survive and get stronger. It was instrumental to his true goals, but he had to admit having the dexterity of an Olympic gymnast while simultaneously being stronger than the heaviest powerlifters felt really good.
The abilities of the mighty flame alien also influenced him. He had no scale of reference for such a being. Just how powerful was the man that terrorized their world? Probably not the peak if he had been arrested, but maybe the Pathfinder AI was some kind of universal presence like a god. Or maybe it was just a created tool by the Final Frontier Empire. Alistair had too many questions, and he was simply too small and inconsequential to get his answers. He snapped out of his daydreaming and walked out of the house.
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He was born into a world of chaos. He once was nothing and then he became something, and he knew he had one purpose: to kill.
He didn’t know how he knew he needed to kill, how he knew not to kill the ones who looked like him, or how he knew his name was Okuzz Kyogas, a level 4 Orc, but he did. His divinely guided purpose was to rise from the depths of the black pond of sludge from which he was born and strike out into the world of man.
Okuzz, like hundreds of thousands of his brethren, emerged from the cracks of FX-14752, ready to hunt. Despite being just seconds old, he had knowledge of language and a basic understanding of combat. He knew to give obeisance to his commander and never back down from a fight.
There was no way Okuzz could have ever defeated the man that killed him, even if he hadn’t been ambushed when he was going from house to house killing helpless humans.
Okuzz died instantly as his skull was caved in by a blow of condensed Mana. If Okuzz had known what had happened, his final thought might have been happiness that a true warrior was the one to end him. He was an artificial orc created by the billions with implanted memories and instincts, but an orc was still an orc.
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Level up! You are now level 8. +4 free Attribute points.
It had taken killing five of what Alistair was calling grunt orcs to get to level 8. From the past thirty minutes of observation, the grunt orcs were between levels 3-5, whereas the leader orcs were between levels 9-12. Based on Jamal’s performance against the leader orc, he guessed that humans were generally more powerful level for level than the orcs.
The other thing he had learned from observing the orcs was that they were bloodthirsty on a level that made Alistair throw up from thinking about it. The orcs traveled in a group of thirteen, with one leader for every twelve grunts. After finding a good vantage spot, they would split up individually to go and massacre everyone they found within the houses on a street. It was disturbing how intelligent the whole procedure was. It was like the orc leaders were bred for maximum possible carnage.
In his disbelief and anger, he had killed the first orc he had seen with a single [Mana Punch] to the face. The grunt orcs were pretty weak, and he easily caved in their skulls with his Skill. It did make Alistair wonder if these massive-framed orcs died to a single punch, how would a human of equivalent level fare against his [Mana Punch]. He didn’t want to find out, but he suspected it would happen eventually. The worst of humanity had come about in the apocalypse.
With the next two orcs he had killed, it wasn’t on purpose. He had tried pulling his punch, but his Skill refused to cooperate. It was as if it only had one power, maximum power, and always used the same amount of Mana.
If anything, his battles had proved useful for understanding how his [Mana Punch] worked. When he activated the Skill, he gathered Mana that flowed freely in his body into his fist, condensing it into a visible blue aura. Punching things with that aura fist damaged enemies multiple times what a normal punch would do, making it one of his most effective weapons in dealing with enemies.
However, it was a cost-prohibitive Skill. He had exactly 1 Mana left after killing the final orc with his [Mana Punch]. It was at that point Alistair realized he was being far too liberal with his use of his trump card. He cursed his own stupidity. He didn’t need to use his Skill on the grunt orcs at all. Jamal had just used the butt of his gun, and Alistair should have caught up to the dead man by now.
Alistair resolved to not use his [Mana Punch] on any more grunt orcs, but he was worried he wouldn’t have his Skill when dealing with the leader orc. His reasoning for choosing to use his fists was simple. After seeing the effectiveness of blunt force blows on the grunt orcs, he had decided to eschew his previous choice of the knife. Alistair had no idea how the Pathfinder AI worked, but he had a feeling that a coherent build was better than a disjointed one. If his strongest move right now was [Mana Punch], it made sense to him that he should try and bolster his bare-handed fighting ability. In a world of guns and tanks, trying to be a pugilist was idiotic, but considering the way the alien was unscathed from thousands of conventional missiles and bombs, Alistair suspected that in time with an increase of stats (and his own survival, knock on wood), his fists would grow far beyond human technology. Plus, it was just plain more fun to use his own hands to defeat his enemies.
He was covered in orc blood, his hands were bruised, and he probably had some fractures, but he was still alive and stronger, and the monsters weren’t. Originally, he had felt some sympathy for them, the AI considered them "sophonts," after all, but after seeing their barbarism, he didn’t feel so bad anymore. The sight of brain matter on his hands had almost made Alistair puke, though. Before the apocalypse, his closest dance with the visceral had been rated-R movies.
Alistair had come across a larger problem than squeamishness, however. He just simply wasn’t strong enough to nimbly move with an unconscious orc on his back. With his newfound strength, he surely could have easily squatted the give-or-take 300 pounds the grunt orcs weighed, but to carry one back to his house without being spotted and having enough speed to outrun any band of orcs that did spot him? There was no possible way.
With that in mind, Alistair reluctantly put all of his 4 free attribute points into Strength, bumping it up to 18, making it his highest attribute behind Intelligence. He would have preferred adding more to Agility or Intelligence instead, to improve upon his hit-and-run magic fist-fighter idea, but he had to be flexible. And he shouldn’t be so arrogant to think he knew what he was doing already. He was trying to apply concepts he knew from RPG games, but this was real life. Maybe a build focused on Constitution and Strength would be better when it was your actual life on the line, not just a Game Over screen.
He had considered putting 1 point into Intelligence, just to recover his Mana faster. He noticed before when adding points to his stats that the difference between his new maximum Health and Mana and his previous maximum was added to his totals. It might save him one day. For instance, if he needed a small amount of Health in a pinch, he could put some points into Constitution.
He turned his head away as he picked up the lifeless body of the orc. Upgrading his Strength caused the weird knitting feeling in his muscles again, but it actually felt kind of good this time. Less painful and more like it was something that was supposed to be happening. Alistair hefted the corpse onto his back, fireman’s carry style. He was once again stronger than before. Not strong enough to be able to sprint with the orc, but another level with all 4 points going into Strength should be sufficient.
Alistair carefully dropped the body to the ground. With his improved hearing (Alistair wasn’t quite sure what stat that came from), he detected people upstairs. He wanted to help them, but he wasn’t sure what to do. He had already promised Donna and Tamia. He said a small prayer for them and swore to himself to try and come back for them if he could.
He snuck out the window of the house, hugging the ground as he tried to remain hidden. It was dark outside, just a little brighter than a full moon’s light with the red hue that cast an eerie glow over the world, but he wasn’t sure how good the orcs’ vision was.
The orcs of the current band he was targeting had spread out over the course of multiple blocks, and even though he had made sure to kill them when no one was watching, it looked like his gig was up. The remaining eight orcs had gathered around their leader in the middle of the road and were arguing with each other loudly in a harsh, guttural language.
Alistair had thought he was well hidden behind a large oak tree in the backyard of the house he had just left, but apparently not well enough. From his vantage point, he saw the leader orc turn towards him and shout something. He was pissed off. What had given him away? He groaned internally as he realized it was probably the gallons of blood that covered his clothes. The orcs likely had a good sense of smell, with their pig-like noses.
They started to run after him, and Alistair knew he had to make a decision. He looked at them with [Inspect]. Their levels were all under 5 except for the leader, who was level 13. When he inspected the leader, he got a notification alerting him that his [Inspect] had improved to Tier 2.
Jamal had been able to dispatch the grunt orcs without a sweat when he was the same level as Alistair, and even the leader orc, though he had been severely injured as a result. Alistair considered his advantages and disadvantages compared to the maniacal pistol-whipper. Alistair had a pretty badass Skill, if he said so himself, while Jamal had a gun. Alistair had the "Good Samaritan" Badge, and while he didn’t know if Jamal had possessed any Badges, if there was a Badge for saving people, it seemed possible there was also a Badge for killing innocent people as well, which he had no doubt done. All-in-all, Alistair evaluated his chances of being around the same as the man, but the difference was he didn’t want to be bleeding heavily and near death by the end of his battle.
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Instead, he would try a different tactic.
Alistair ran at the band of orcs with speed exceeding that of the fastest sprinters. He suspected that the orc’s highest stat was in Strength, but he doubted they could even match him in that at this point. Of course, with his 17 Agility, he was way faster than the grunt orcs. It wasn’t just straight speed either; his reaction time and proprioception were far superior to just one day ago.
With his increased strength, he delivered a straight punch to the first ugly orc he found. It looked like his kickboxing classes were finally paying off.
The over-two-meter-tall orc staggered backward, hurt but not knocked out. Alistair could feel that his strike had destroyed the jaw of his larger foe, and it seemed apparent that his strikes were packed with more power than even the heavyweight sluggers of the previous world.
It was pitifully obvious his Agility far outclassed that of his opponents. Alistair was too worried about brain damage to try full-contact sparring in his kickboxing classes. He regretted that now, considering the magic of the Pathfinder could probably fix anything, but it didn’t even matter. Each swing of a club or sword was in slow motion to Alistair, and despite having zero experience in real death matches, he dodged all of the attacks.
He used his superior speed to kite the orcs around, never allowing himself to be surrounded by their superior numbers. It took about three to five blows to the head, but eventually, the muscular brutes dropped, dead or unconscious from the repeated brain damage. He took no damage himself, always managing to have their sluggish strikes hit only air before connecting.
It was so easy that Alistair almost forgot there was a real threat to him present. As he killed a third orc, his danger senses tingled as he felt something fast coming from behind him. He managed to move his head to the right at the last second, but a large meat cleaver raked down his left shoulder and back, causing a spike of pain.
Alistair was nearly overtaken by the grunt orcs as he shouted in pain at the cut he received. The mysterious sixth sense he had gained, the one that sometimes gave him unearned insight into things Pathfinder related, told him he had just lost 18 Health, bringing him down to 76.
He quickly dispatched two orcs dressed in leather armor with hooks to the head, running forward to evade the whoosh of another slice by the enemy behind him. At that point, he had gathered who it was and what had happened. As he was distracted by the grunt orcs, he lost sight of the leader orc, who was cunning enough to sneak behind him and try for an ambush. It was the kind of move he hadn’t expected from such brutish-looking monsters, but Alistair should have known appearances could be deceiving.
He activated [Inspect] on the leader.
Name: Kalak Ogyrz
Species: Half-Orc (Partially Evolved)
Level: 13
Alistair carefully considered Kalak. He was a level higher than Jrzz, but he looked much less threatening. Actually, looking at him up close, he looked fairly human. The underbite tusks that the other orcs had were more like oversized canines, and his face was just a little bestial and pig-like with a reddish tint. His muscles were less extreme, and he looked like he was wearing real clothing rather than some torn loincloth or misshapen leather or chainmail armor.
Kalak was perhaps 6’5" or 6’6", rather than the monstrous heights of the other leaders that Alistair had seen. It probably had to do with his different species, being a half-orc instead of a war-orc. Did that mean the orcs came from some kind of society? He didn’t have much time to contemplate the ramifications of the information he received as he continued to weed out the grunts, giving a spear-wielding orc a side kick to the chest that caved in his sternum. Alistair couldn’t get over his newfound dexterity. There was no way before he had gained all the points in Agility that he could ever pull off a kick like that.
The remaining six grunt orcs retreated in fear, huddling close together around Kalak. The half-orc looked at Alistair with cold, green eyes as he tossed around his giant meat cleaver.
"Foul human, why do you oppose the culling of the weak? If the Dao wills it, there shall be no resistance. We have no quarrel with you, human, unless you desire our blood for your own advancement." Kalak spoke in a deep, soft voice that sounded like the desert sand pattering against metal.
For a moment Alistair was too shocked to respond. He had never heard an orc talking in English before. He eyed the half-orc suspiciously. Had he said something about "the Dao"? Alistair was familiar with Chinese philosophy and religion, and a concept from Daoism was possibly the least likely thing he’d thought he’d ever hear out of an orc’s mouth.
He tried to probe for more info. "The Dao wills it, does it now? I don’t think so." Alistair was making up complete bullshit, but it could provoke a response from Kalak.
It did seem to provoke him—and heavily at that. He started laughing, a sick, profane expunging of mirth that made Alistair cringe.
"How the Heavens have cursed us. Humans can live so apart from the Dao, yet they are blessed with untold bounties from the Heavens themselves while we toil away with nothing. I’m bound even now, aren’t I? I think your death would please me very much, young human," Kalak said, going from inert to in motion in an instant as he threw his meat cleaver at Alistair.
Alistair had been anticipating another sneak attack from the talking orc, so he easily dodged the whirling blade and charged the left flank of the grunts.
He used the three orcs to Kalak’s left as a shield, employing their large frames as a natural barrier against the crafty half-orc. He finished all three of them with a single punch to the head. A notification popped up in his vision right after killing the first of the three.
Level up! You are now level 9. +4 free Attribute points.
All four points were immediately put into Strength, and he felt his muscles course with power. His Strength had hit 22 and became his highest attribute. There was no way he wasn’t completely superhuman in his strength at this point, and Alistair felt like he could bench over a thousand pounds without a problem.
Kalak chased after him, pulling out two more cleavers from scabbards on his back, but Alistair already figured out he was a hair faster than him. He dodged a downward swing and moved onto the three grunt orcs on Kalak’s right side.
With his newfound strength, his right straight sent the first orc he struck several feet back, killing him instantly. His punch was so hard it hurt his hand a bit. He could see how Strength and Constitution were complementary attributes, and Alistair guessed if his Strength was too high without a decent amount of Constitution, his strikes could even damage him. Alistair didn’t plan on doing that kind of build, but it was worth keeping in mind. [Mana Punch] seemed to inherently protect his fists as his past [Mana Punches] were stronger than the strike he just released, yet it didn’t hurt his fist at all.
The other two grunt orcs died seconds later. Alistair grinned as he marveled at the speed he dispatched the enemy. Now, where was—
Alistair felt his world cave in as he was flung several feet to the side by a massive swing to his side. He tasted blood, and his vision blurred, but he still got to his feet and instinctively dodged another attack. His side burned, and when he managed to spare a glance, he saw a massive gouge in his side, bleeding profusely. His health dropped all the way down to 42.
How had he lost track of Kalak again? Alistair searched for answers as he desperately jumped away from another thrown meat cleaver. The only conclusion he could think of was that the half-orc had some kind of Skill that allowed him to conceal his presence. Alistair hoped that now that he could spare his full attention for him alone, it wouldn’t work.
The two stared off for a second, circling slowly. Kalak procured another cleaver from his back and clanged them together as he hunched over, giving out an animalistic roar. Alistair conserved his energy and let Kalak run at him.
It was over in one exchange. Kalak lacked the Constitution of a war-orc, and his build wasn’t centered around taking damage or being a tank. He was a trickster and rogue at heart, and he tried one last ruse.
Believing the leader orc possessed a concealment Skill, Alistair tried a last resort attempt to unveil him. He had no idea if it would work, but he activated [Inspect] on Kalak and simply tried to make it stay active with his willpower.
A trickle of Mana exited his body as he used the 1 Mana he had left. His gamble had worked, and Alistair ignored a notification screen as he detected a thin film of dark Mana surrounding Kalak. Even with the detection ability of his improved Skill, he had a strong desire to look away.
Alistair pretended to be fooled for a second as Kalak pranced towards his left in a crouched stance. Then, he struck.
Kalak was taken completely off-guard as Alistair charged with as much speed as his body could handle, delivering an uppercut through his robes.
The lean orc doubled over, heaving from Alistair’s powerful strike. He had enough Constitution to survive a single blow, unlike his weaker brethren, but Alistair’s next strike ended their battle. He teed up the injured orc, grabbing his hair with his right hand, and then he cracked him in the face with a full-force left hand straight to Kalak’s face. He felt his fist destroy bone and flesh, and Kalak crumpled to the ground, his jaw blown off.
He might have had a fracture in his left hand, but he ignored the pain as he looked down at his notifications.
Level up x2! You are now level 11. +8 free Attribute points.
Skill Acquired: [Inspect] (Tier 3 Skill): Gain insight into your target. Upgradeable (1/15). (Mutation — Active: Drains 1 Mana per second to see past illusions and trickery.)
[Inspect] had improved again, this time with the active aspect that he had subconsciously used to bypass Kalak’s illusion. Interestingly, it said it was at (1/15) in terms of upgrades, which he hadn’t noticed before. After clearing his surroundings of danger, he opened his Skill page in curiosity.
> Skills:
>
> [Inspect] (Tier 3 Skill): Gain insight into your target. Upgradeable (1/15). (Mutation — Active: Drains 1 Mana per second to see past illusions and trickery.)
>
> [Mana Punch] (Tier 1 Skill): Envelop your fist in condensed Mana and strike your enemies. Mana Cost: 10. Upgradeable (4/10).
He smiled as he saw the Upgradeable section for [Mana Punch]. It was as he imagined, and using the Skill contributed to upgrading it. But he still felt like something was off, and the way it listed Upgradeable made Alistair feel like it should have some way to use points, just like stat points. He shrugged, not able to figure out that mystery at the moment.
His giddiness at leveling up and mutating his Skill distracted him from his injuries. He coughed out some blood and felt the wound on his side. Kalak had really got him good with the cleaver strike with his back turned.
It wasn’t all bad news, though. He had seen better days, but he was doing way better than the dead half-orc beneath him. He opened his status screen and allocated his free attribute points. His Strength felt ridiculous at this point. He was fully confident he could one-shot any normal human with a single punch, and [Mana Punch] would be his asset against tougher opponents. In addition, he felt easily strong enough to fireman carry an orc and run back to his house, so he felt he didn’t need any more Strength at that point.
He decided to put 3 points into Agility and 5 points into Intelligence. Alistair had wanted to do it from the beginning, but his need for carrying strength forced him away from the idea temporarily. The extra Intelligence brought his maximum Mana to 70 and gave him 10 Mana right away, which was the reason why he had split his points in favor of Intelligence. If he needed to use a [Mana Punch] on a strong opponent, he would be able to.
The wound in his side burned with agony every time he moved, but he couldn’t stop there. He had a mission to bring back two orcs for Donna and Tamia, and he would complete it or die trying. So, Alistair trekked onward.