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Hollow Henry
Chapter 8 - Day 3 - Who even wants loot anyway?

Chapter 8 - Day 3 - Who even wants loot anyway?

Henry marvelled at his new stats. His DiHexan pool alone was worth the level up. He was sure he'd have enough magic to get them out safely. His introspection was interrupted by the very confused guard sitting by the now snuffed fire.

“What did you just do?” She asked with accusation in her tone.

“I figured out the problem,” he said, waving her off. He was starting to get frustrated with her attitude.

He pulled up his skills page to admire his new ability.

Hyper Focus:

* Core Skill

* Cost: 2 DiH per second

* Allows user to enter a state of hyper focus, increasing users perception by *50 while active.

He was nearly giddy with excitement. Hyper focus was a skill he could see being useful in combat. If his DiH regen was still slow though, it could end up costing him a lot if he was reckless.

“Are you just gunna leave the rest of us out of your little plan?” She interrupted again.

“I'm getting to it,” he groaned. “You’re as pushy as my first boss. How many times do you have to tell a grown arse man that you're already doing the thing he wants you to do. I don't even know you and you're already acting like a Greg.”

“A Greg?” She asked, the ghost of a smirk tickling her lips.

“Yeah, a fuckin’ Greg,” he shouted.

The volume of his own voice snapped him out of his rant however, and he looked at her with a hint of embarrassment. “I can get us out of here,” he relented. “I just had to level up a couple of times so I had enough DiH to compensate for your weight.”

She stared at him with wide eyes, trying her best to process whatever he just said. Eventually, her eye twitched in anger.

“You need to compensate for my weight?” She said with calm rage.

“You’re wearing heavy armour,” he quickly defended. “It wouldn't be as bad if I could get you to take it off.”

Her pupils narrowed, and he realised his mistake.

“It costs me more magic to transport more mass. It's not because you're heavy… not that you're heavy… I,” he started to panic.

Something in her expression stopped his worry though. The corners of her mouth were beginning to twist into a smile, and he could see her struggling to keep her composure.

“You’re enjoying this, aren't you?” He asked suspiciously.

“You get angry too easy,” she laughed, finally letting her smile free. “I don't mean to be pushy, I've just been here with nothing to do for 2 days, and I'm ready to crawl back through your chest if it means getting out.”

Her gentle English accent made the vague threat seem somehow less severe.

“I have no idea what a level is, but if it's going to help me see the real world again, you do what you've got to do.”

Henry felt a little dumb. He already knew she wasn't a player, and he didn't know the etiquette of revealing his player status to the people of the world. He may have just put his foot in his mouth, but she didn't seem phased.

“As long as you and your gear don't weigh more than 100kg, we should be good to go now.”

She nodded to him, and gave a thumbs up. “The metal is heavy, but it shouldn't be more than 30kg. I'm not telling you my weight, but it won't exceed 100 all up.”

“Good to know,” he said, scooping his armoured shirt up from the ground. He would easily be able to tell her weight by the amount of DiH he spent, but he felt like it'd be a weird thing to mention. Before he left, he grabbed the mercury he'd created the last time, and fed it back into his essence. He was still curious about the process, and the fact that he somehow had a deep understanding of mercury. For the time being however, the 2000 essence was far more useful. He also decided to leave his backpack and other belongings behind, figuring they would most likely be there when he gets back. He didn't know how he knew, but he was fairly sure of that fact.

“Don't get funny about it, but I'll have to put my hand on your shoulder or something.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Just the kind of thing a cannibal-pervert would say.” She took a step closer, and let him grab her shoulder plate.

In the next second, they were torn from his Temple Realm and sent spinning back into The Hollows.

They weren't in the same place as when they left, since that spot was covered in giant boulders, but they were only a few feet away. He had a silent concern about that fact before they left. He wasn't sure if he'd come back and find himself sharing the same space as a rock. If that happened, he'd probably be back at the Tavern nice and fast. He was also relieved to see that he hadn't used all of his magic in one go again.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

DiHexan: 27 / 141

ALERT:

Your DiHexan pool is below 30%. Exceeding your pool's limit can cause physical harm and spirit shock.

The camp had been decimated.

Headless Goblins layed all about in a grotesque display of battle. The heads must have been taken by the Scotsmen to prove their work. He was glad that at least one of them must have gotten out alive.

After a quick look around, he was disappointed to find that they had also taken just about all of the loot too. The whole point of him coming on this adventure was to collect that loot. He decided he had a few words he'd like to teach the Scotsmen when he got back to the city. Chief among them being sharing.

That wasn't fair, he supposed. They had already tried to share some of their own loot with him. They were probably waiting to see him to give up his share. He was also sure they would have kept the best stuff in their own piles, but he couldn't be mad about that, he'd probably do the same.

He did manage to find himself a rusted short sword though. It looked like it had once been a broad sword, since it had such a large handle and wide blade, but it had been modified. The larger blade had been crudely bent and broken away to make it more functional for the little creatures. It resulted in a 3 foot blade with an uneven and jagged point. It wasn’t pretty, but it would work for now. He also rolled up the most intact tent he could find. His plan was to store it in his Temple like he had with his backpack, he was just going to wait for his DiHexan to regenerate a little more. While he was rolling it up though, he had a thought.

Rather than holding onto the tent and travelling with it, he placed his palm on it Instead. He focused on his Temple, and his skill to enter it, but he didn’t flex the skill. He flexed everything he felt around it instead. Not much happened at first, but he kept searching near his skill. Eventually, he felt something respond, so he flexed harder.

He felt his DiH drain all of a sudden as he watched the tent disappear. He felt the ground in front of him to make sure it was gone, then whooped with joy when he confirmed the tent had vanished. He couldn't be sure his trick had worked until the next time he went into his Temple, but he was confident he was on the right track. Things related to his Temple seemed to come naturally to him if he thought about them hard enough. He supposed that was one of the benefits to a ‘true core power’ that the Scotsmen were so excited about.

He checked his DiHexan to see what the cost was, and was happy to have yet another suspicion confirmed.

DiHexan: 23 / 141

He suspected that the tent and its ropes would weigh around 5 or 6kg, and it seemed that was all the DiH that he had spent. It wasn’t as clear cut as using his actual skill, since he had to concentrate to make it work. It was still a neat trick though. He would be able to use his Temple as a quick means of storage.

He made an attempt to summon the tent back, considering he probably had enough DiH to pull it off again, but found no success. He could swear he could feel the tent there, but no matter how hard he prodded, he could find the right way to flex his magic. A question for later he supposed.

He found a few loose pieces of precious stone, none glowing unfortunately, as well as some chunks of interesting looking metals. The Goblins had obviously been keeping a stash of whatever they collected, but the barrels and boxes had been scavenged clean by what must have been the Scotsmen. He also found the corpse of the HobGoblin. It looked different in size to its standard Goblin peers. He could tell that much even though the beast was missing its head, and a good portion of its torso. The strangest difference was the pants. The creature had to be 3 or 4 feet tall, and it was wearing a tiny pair of tan cargo shorts. They had to be a child's pair, and he shuddered at the thought of where the monster could have acquired them. The Hob had a small and straight stick clutched tightly in its dead hands. He could feel something coming from the thing that he had already decided was a wand. The dead creature had an iron grip around its handle, so Henry had to awkwardly pry it out. The guard stood by and watched in horror as he placed his boot against its chest and tore at it with the vigour of a mad man. Eventually, it broke free along with 2 of the beast's fingers. The smell was atrocious, since he'd managed to stir up the scent of early rot in his struggle for the weapon. When he held it in his hands though, he gleefully read the item's description.

Crude Hob Wand:

Enchanted: yes

Damage: 1 - 3

Durability: 84%

Enchantment: Screeching Force

* Casts a ball of force dealing 10 physical damage.

DiH Cost: 10[DiH]

He finally had a spell he could use for combat. His time in The Hollows hadn't been that long so far, but with every step he took in the world it became increasingly apparent that he would need some magic. With the broken sword, and the crude wand, he might stand a chance to get back to the city without dying. It was wishful thinking of course. Judging by how vicious the fight with the Goblins had been, he wasn't entirely confident. The most important thing to him at that moment, was to make sure the guard didn't realise just how severe his lack of confidence was.

When he was done gathering up what loot he could find, he wrapped all of the small items into a loose piece of cloth, and sent it into his Temple. The wand was tucked awkwardly into his boot, and the sword stayed firmly in his hand.

“That's an interesting trick,” she said, looking over his shoulder at the items disappearing.

“I'm full of interesting tricks,” he lied.

“I'm sure you are,” she shrugged. “Most of you can do something weird.”

That caught him off guard. As far as he knew, he was the only one of him there. He felt like an idiot when he caught on to what she meant.

“Do you mean players?”

“Sure, I guess,” she said with another shrug. “I mostly mean outworlders though.”

“Isn't that the same thing?”

She rocked her hand back and forth.

“Yes and no. Not all outworlders are players, but all players are outworlders. I've only met players though, since there's so many of you in Therveinia nowadays.”

That struck his curiosity. He hadn't put much thought into how many other players would be nearby. The question was somewhat quashed when he met the Scotsmen. He wasn't sure if he wanted to meet any other players until he'd gotten ahead a little further. Hearing about the other outworlders was interesting to him, but not very surprising. It stood to reason that if people from earth had rocked up, surely people from other worlds might do the same. The implications made his mind throb though. Having an intellectual understanding of multiple universes was a different beast to actually knowing about it for sure. How many worlds could there be? And was that something he should be concerned about?

The questions kept coming. He sighed to himself and resigned to the fact that he might need to start carrying around a notebook to record it all.

For now however, he had a long walk ahead of him with a total stranger.

A small part of him yearned for a chance for combat, just so he could try out his new toys. He was sorely tempted to test his new skill then and there, but the cost would clean his magic reserves out in less than a minute. It would be smarter to try it out after he regenerated a bit more, much to his chagrin.