In Tartarus
A few days later, the party had leveled up significantly from the monsters of the wastes, and Jonathan now stood at level 230. His skills had advanced as well, with Blunt Weapon Mastery at Journeyman 5. He had found a significant increase in difficulty in terms of leveling up his combination skills once he had actually combined them. He had to gain expertise in all of the constituent parts for the skill to actually be fulfilled. Sure, he could simply stick with his fists, but that would require him to extrapolate the rest of his fighting style from the movements of his enemies, which would take far too long.
Instead, he had Hushar make him a few clubs and maces, which he kept in his storage device. They tended to break after killing a few monsters, but they were basically free to make and use. As a result, he was now incredibly proficient in all three weapon types. How much of that was due to his superhuman stats, he did not know, but he was sure that even without them, he would far outstrip most people back on Earth.
The use of melee weapons was hardly a common thing on his previous planet, with guns having phased out most of the archaic weaponry there. Sure, people still used melee weapons, but almost everyone preferred to use guns. They were just more efficient in a world where everyone was at the same level of durability.
Here however, there was no real way to argue for the power of such weapons, as their projectiles would simply bounce off anyone they touched. The only projectile weapons that would hold up to increasing levels were bows, or any other form of weapon that used muscular power instead of a chemical reaction. A good archer here could fire far faster than a gun, and punch holes in buildings with ease.
With their objective secure for now, Jonathan eventually knew that it was time to return to Mire. The others were waiting for them there, and they had objectives to complete in that realm that were more important than simply grinding here.
When they emerged from the swirling mists of interdimensional transport, Jonathan’s slight smile turned into a frown, that quickly turned into a grimace.
“Where did the walls go?” He asked, not liking where his train of thought was going.
“They went the same way as your companions. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. And here in this realm, to decay.”
The party whirled around to see a man standing on top of one of the ruined buildings, clad in a strange outfit. He wore what looked like a suit and tie, with a foppish tricorn hat pulled low over his eyes. A small rapier hung from his belt, and his hand rested on it.
“What the hell did you do to them!” Hushar roared, already beginning to charge forwards.
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“My, the brute speaks. I apologize, I thought that your kind were merely pets left here for their masters to embark on whatever sort of dimensional travel you were off on. No matter. You shall die the same.”
The man pulled out his rapier, and Jonathan involuntarily twitched. It felt as if a naked blade had been pressed against every part of his skin. Just looking at the blade made him feel threatened, despite the fact that it was dozens of feet away. All around the man, small cuts began to form on the ground, marking a patchwork cluster of wounds upon the very earth itself.
“The hell?” Jonathan said, losing his articulation at the sight. It was like nothing he had ever seen before.
“You’ve never seen a weapon domain before? What a pitiful creature you must be,” the man said.
“Careful,” Edgar whispered. “He has at least an Expert Rank Pathway skill for that rapier.”
“Listen to the mageling. I am one of the greatest swordsmen in Mire-”
“Are we going to fight, or are you simply trying to stall out of fear?” Hushar asked, his teeth gritted in rage. The loss of his brother and the other Uthraki was clearly taking a toll on him.
“Very well,” the fighter replied, raising one eyebrow, shrouded in shadow by his hat. “Let it be known that you died at the hands of Theodore Vasquieu, Disciple of Aldorf the Third.”
Then he sent his rapier flashing forwards, and a thin beam of energy shot out of the tip, seeming to be crafted from pure expertise. Hushar rolled to the side, summoning a shield of obsidian in the path of the attack. Instead of stopping it, the shield buckled inwards, and was cut into a thousand pieces.
Jonathan could instantly tell that this was not a foe to trifle with, and he burned Divinity, empowering his flesh with the golden light of godhood itself. Then he analyzed the swordsman as he rushed forwards.
Theodore Vasquieu
Level 276
Health: 43450/43450
Status: Arrogant, Healthy
It told a lot about the man’s character that being arrogant was more important to his current status than his actual health. Jonathan sent stamina to his legs, and felt Edgar sent his elemental energy to enhance his speed. With a sudden boom of displaced air, he almost teleported across the gap. Theodore’s eyes widened in surprise, but against all odds, he actually tracked Jonathan’s incoming blow, seeming to use senses beyond the physical. When his fist approached, the rapier was waiting for it, held in a manner that would skewer his forearm if he punched it.
Jonathan aborted the attack, and transferred his momentum to his left arm, sending it towards the man’s cheek. However, much of his speed and surprise was spent by now, and Theodore dodged, sending his rapier flashing out. When it struck his torso, a wave of force erupted from it, sending him flying backwards, bones broken and organs pulverized. It felt like the force had bypassed his armor, and struck directly at his internals.
Jonathan wiped blood from the bottom of his helmet where it had dripped, and steadied himself. This was for once, a challenge. It had only been a matter of time before he faced someone on his level of strength, and the thought filled him with anticipation. This man was one of the best that Mire had to offer, and killing him would do a great deal to prove that he had what it took to liberate the circle.