To Rika’s credit, she calmed down pretty quickly concerning Ember, and that was probably because Ember was the most docile sweet cuddly flaming helldog in all of creation.
Still she kept her distance. Markus had felt the same way once, but that giant pup nearly ripped his arm off, so he felt a tad more justified in it.
“I meant what I said,” Markus said. “Whether you think this is fine or not, you should be careful around me. This place has it out for me. You can still go if you wanna.”
“Yeah, blah blah blah, let’s read about stuff!” She plonked her collection of books down upon the bed, then reached into one of her pockets, producing a rough looking pencil. “I brought something to write with, too. Thought maybe it’d help.”
“Huh, that’s actually useful,” Markus noted, grabbing the pencil and testing it on the front page of A Comprehensive Guide to Entrerean Tax Codes.
It was an absolutely ridiculous book and he didn’t feel the least bit bad about defacing it. At least he technically wasn’t a citizen in Firrelia, at least as far as he knew. Fuck paying taxes here.
Pencil worked fine. He could sharpen it with the dagger if he really needed to, so it should last him a little while. That was good. A writing instrument was always a powerful tool no matter the circumstance.
As for the books…
Well, there was the medical book, that one was probably fairly suitable to be used as kindling. Then, next, there was Surviving Aracki Marsh, a book that didn’t specify from the title whether the contents were fictional or not, and whether Aracki Marsh was a place or a person.
More promising was Laughing Across Entrerea: A Memoir. Markus opened this one. The introductory paragraphs detailed the account of a circus performer travelling to different regions of a continent called Entrerea alongside his caravans, promising a detailed recounting of his experiences and learnings in the differing regions.
“Are we in Entrerea?” Markus asked, looking at Rika.
“Yes. It’s actually a word I recognise because I’ve seen it so much. It’s why I grabbed this book, and the other one.”
“Good job.”
“Th-thanks.”
That was clever. There might actually be some useful info in this one. Hell, there might be something worthwhile in the tax book, too, though it’d likely be a way bigger slog to get through.
“Are you gonna be teaching me letters again?” Rika asked, tapping the fingers of two hands against her bottom right palm. “I think I still remember one or two from last time.”
“Yeah, that was the plan.” Markus pulled the mostly blank opening page from the tax code book, using the cover as a table to write upon and then started drawing the glyphs of the book out the way he saw them.
He finished writing the word ‘tax’ and then presented it to Rika. “Does that look the same to you as it does on the cover?”
“Uhh, basically? Your handwriting’s a bit scruffier.”
“Pfft. Sorry. Not caught up on my calligraphy.”
“On your what?”
Markus snickered. “Forget it. The words looked a bit different to me until my system took over, so I’m glad that they look the same to you. I was worried I’d end up writing something you couldn’t make heads or tails of.”
“That’s okay.” She stared at the word he’d written, then at the book. “That says tax, right?”
“Yes!” Markus said, patting her knee, bringing the piece of paper closer to her. “Well done for remembering.”
“Thanks!” she replied, more confident this time, nodding her head, her yellow mane swishing about her shoulders. “I knew I’d get it right. I totally wasn’t worried.”
“Well, you did great. Do you remember the letters of ‘tax’?”
“The letters?” Rika immediately bit her lip, then knit her eyebrows in focus. “Uhh…”
“It’s okay, we’ve got time.”
***
Markus left Rika with a little lesson plan. He’d checked the other two books, and neither of them seemed like they were gonna be of any real help. One was about plants found in a distant part of the world, and one was a collection of old, confusing poems.
Rika continually attempted to learn vowels as Markus watched her and answered her questions when needed, giving her whatever guidance was necessary but mainly leaving her to it as he attempted to read through the opening chapters of the circus book.
Whoever this clown was, they were pretty eloquent, and this book was super dense. In the time he’d spent reading it, he’d not yet seen mention of the kingdom he was in, Materia, but he confirmed with Rika that this was the 2600th year of the Fifth Star, whatever that meant, meaning that the events documented in this account transpired around twenty years ago, in 2580.
While Materia and Sun City hadn’t been directly mentioned, the Magul Empire was brought up at least twice in the first forty pages, specifically with mentions of how liberating it was to be away from the place the author had been raised, and how performances staged within the empire all too often were subject to the worst in levys and fines.
Didn’t paint a great picture for the region he was in, but who the hell was shocked about that? It at least gave Markus a little hope that places outside of this region might be a touch less evil.
Eh, more likely just a different flavour of evil. The region that the author was currently describing, Fanata, apparently had laws regarding adultery that resulted in the death of both the cheating partners, their families, and the extinction of their bloodline, due to the fact that each marriage and pairing in the region was controlled and orchestrated by their rulers, and deviation from this plan was considered the highest of dishonours.
Hah, how long would he have lasted there as an illegitimate child? Five minutes?
Learning more about this world kinda just cemented to Markus how fucked up it was. It wasn’t just the slavery or the commercialisation of violence, it seemed that the issues in Firrelia were varied and wholly ingrained, and stemmed more from the ministrations of gods than anything else.
He could be wrong, but it made him think. He’d been offered an opportunity to change all of that, hadn’t he?
On a leash.
Markus sighed. He put the book down and pulled up his system.
He had a fight tomorrow. Now was as good a time as any to work on his point distributions and figure out anything else he needed done.
[Name: Markus Brown]
[Class: Otherworlder (Earth) (Tier: Novice 46)]
[Health: 2010/2110]
[Mana: 8734/6890]
[Strength: 170 (+30)]
[Agility: 180 (+30)]
[Arcana: 100]
[Constitution: 240(+30)]
[Spirit: 190]
[???: 0]
He’d levelled in his fight with Cyrus. Good to know that’d bore some fruit. Going up a full level from 30 minutes of training was pretty baller, too.
God, he was constantly at Mana Poisoning I lately. Honestly, he barely even realised anymore. He was used to feeling tired, feeling sluggish.
70 regular points, 63 free.
He rounded Spirit to 200. No immediate benefit besides his Mana Capacity going over 7000.
Hmm. Did he just jam everything into Spirit? It modified his Thrust King passive, his Reforge spell, and allowed him to hold even more Mana within him. Plus it get him closer to another breakpoint, and improved the effectiveness of Empower and Meditation.
Plus the Free Points. They never hurt…
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Markus took Spirit up to 250, leaving 10 regular points unspent. No breakpoint was reached, though his mana threshold shot up by well over a thousand, to the point he was barely Overcharged anymore.
Markus decided to grab one of those F Grade stones from the chest beside him, beginning to fill it with excess Spirit and Frost Mana. He had so much of both that he could use to lose a little, and he was curious to see how much mana the stone could contain.
It capped at about 900. Enough to take him out of his Overcharge.
He stared at his attributes and his remaining points, locked in thought. Over 200 con ‘wasn’t as impressive as he thought’, according to Cyrus, who’d proved his point when he knocked Markus on his ass with complete and utter ease. What were Cyrus’ attributes like? In the thousands, or something?
He’d have to ask him. There was always a chance he was missing something crucial.
Usually, he’d wait until morning, but he had a fight coming, and it didn’t hurt to be prepared. Markus crossed the boundary outside of his cell as Rika continued to shakily recite letters, then knocked on Cyrus’ door.
“...yes?”
“Enjoying your new bed?” Markus asked, staring at the groggy orc laid in low light.
“More if I were able to sleep more than thirty minutes,” the beastly man groaned, turning and shifting into a sitting position. “How many visitors must a prisoner entertain a night? It’s like a nonstop party across the hall.”
“Oh… you heard all that?” Markus rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry. I thought you were completely dead to the world.”
“My senses are rather sharp.” He laughed. “Not that they’d need to be to hear that imp blithering on. The fuck’s his deal?”
“He’s…” Markus frowned. He didn’t really wanna think about it. “He’s weird.”
“Clearly,” Cyrus noted, stretching as he spoke. “That said… yes. I am enjoying this contraption you’ve given me. My body feels weak and coddled against something so soft, but I admit I rather enjoy it. I may use it again.”
“Again?” Markus repeated, squinting. “You’re meant to use it every time you sleep.”
“We’ll see. Anyways, I assume you had a reason for coming to me. What is it?”
“You said that 200 Con wasn’t anything to write home about. I’m curious what level you’re at.”
“That isn’t information you should share so readily,” Cyrus said. “Attributes, skills, levels, even class, these are an accurate window into the potential and prowess of an individual. You should really be careful about who you tell these things. Class can be guessed at or even fully determined by a strong enough Identify skill, and levels are fairly rudimentary to at least estimate, but skills and attribute scores are almost impossible to determine without a strong appraisal ability.”
“Right…” Markus noted the info, glad for more clarity on the matter, but at the least finding that some of his theories on how you determined someone’s potential to be confirmed. “Does that mean you won’t tell me? I understand if it’s too private.”
“Nay. I trust you. My Constitution is 940. That’s a number I’ve worked extremely hard to achieve, and it’s an important one. Reaching a full thousand is the gateway to many benefits, and others knowing I wasn’t yet there could prove to be a detriment to me. Do you understand?”
“I think so,” Markus nodded. “Are there other breakpoints?”
“Between 100 and 1000? No. But I can only speak for Agility, Strength, and Constitution. My other attributes are comparatively low.”
“You didn’t level Spirit much, then?” Markus asked.
“I didn’t see a great benefit. Many of my abilities rely upon the attributes I’ve developed, not Spirit.” He moved his head left and right, looking ahead, considering the idea. “I could concede that more invested in Spirit would help keep me on my feet longer. I’ve often felt that I spend too long recovering from exertion.”
“What about the free points?” Markus asked, face twisting. “Surely that makes Spirit worthwhile?”
“Free points?” Cyrus asked. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
I… huh?”
“I said I’ve never heard of a ‘free point’,” Cyrus repeated. “Curious what exactly you’re talking about.”
Markus started relaying how exactly Spirit worked to Cyrus, and he was in disbelief. The two of them had almost identical descriptions of the attribute’s workings, with one key difference, the free points. Apparently, Cyrus had never heard of that being a thing with anyone.
Jesus. No wonder his growth was so busted. Who would’ve thought that he had an entire new feature to a whole ass attribute?
Talk about getting the premium version. Hell, if he hadn’t spawned in the fucking worst pit of the worst world EVER, he might’ve even been having a good time right now with all this potential at his fingertips.
Speaking of potential, that was apparently what the locked attribute was. Sounded vague. But from what Cyrus said, most people don’t get sixth attributes. They’re not fixed on what they’ll manifest as, either. But the fact his even shows to him in a locked state makes him a lot more capable of unlocking a sixth than most people are. Most people don’t even know there are six to begin with.
“What about classes?” Markus asked, glad for the reminder.
“What about them?” Cyrus grumbled. “You choose one at level five, then another at fifty. Later on you can evolve or combine them, depending on what you chose.”
“...but I never got to choose anything. Mine is just ‘Otherworlder’.”
Cyrus scratched behind his ear. “In that case, no clue. I’m not knowledgable on summons. I’d find someone who is.”
Only one person he knew who was knowledgeable about summons… hardly someone he wanted to talk to about all this.
Ugh. Maybe the blacksmith could help him or something. Literally anyone else.
Markus set that thought aside for now and decided to check his Paths and Masteries, having finished speaking to Cyrus and walked back to his cell, where Rika was still repeating back the same selection of letters from before. He had to hand it to her, she was clearly committed to doing this right.
He’d left off choosing between Freeze Ray, Frozen Sanctuary, and Cold Heart in regards to his Frost Mastery specialisation before, and while he considered each of these passives useful, between the fact that Freeze Ray required E Grade Frost Mana and the fact that Frozen Sanctuary was a generation increase that he didn’t rightfully feel he needed when two of his cores could already generate frost, Markus was happy to take Cold Heart.
[Cold Heart I: Your movement across icy surfaces is bolstered. Movement speed is increased by 5% while standing on ice, balance is proportionately increased, and effective Agility while standing on ice is increased by 8%.]
This was gonna work really fucking effectively with Frozen Tomb. He already moved across its magical ice as if it were a normal surface, and the increased speed and agility were going to make a big difference. 5% didn’t sound like much, but having played enough games to notice it, 5% was fucking big.
Also, if he ever did wind up in an icy area that wasn’t his Frozen Tomb aura, he’d have this to fall back on. All in all, he was more than happy with his choice.
Then there were the Manifest paths…
He still couldn’t decide. Duration sounded incredibly busted for the five seconds of use time past expiry on a manifested object, but Increase sounded like it could enable some fucking insane combos with its instantaneous doubling of the size and weight of a manifested object. Not to mention the fact that it was the only Legendary path option he’d seen so far.
…he couldn’t make his mind up. He was gonna hold off on this until something else came up that made one of these options stand out more, or until he felt he needed to pick a path before he fucking died. He couldn’t be premature with decisions like this. Hindsight didn’t do much to placate a dead body, and Markus wasn’t gonna be sat there wishing he took something else when he found himself in an untenable situation.
Markus was scrolling through his menus when he found he’d unlocked a new skill around the time he’d fought Cyrus. This one was called Counter Strike.
[Counter Strike: 1.]
[Counter Strike measures the user’s ability to block, parry, or redirect their opponent’s attack in a manner which leaves the aggressor open to a counterattack. Mastery available at 10.]
Well, shit. Time to learn Perfect Parry, I guess.
“You know you mumble to yourself when you’re doing that, don’t you?”
Markus felt as if he’d been knocked from a trance. “Huh?”
Rika snickered. “When you’re spending points, or whatever you’re doing. I just hear you mumbling little things, like you’re locked in super intense thought. It’s hilarious.”
“...well, thanks. Now I can hear it too.”
Rika laughed. “Don’t be mad! Look. Look. Listen to me, I can’t even do that alphabet song you taught me. A, B, E, D, E, F… E?”
Markus felt the frown being pulled from his lips. “Pfft. Guess we need to work on that some more.”
“Funny, huh?” Rika snarled, smirking impetuously. “Not as funny as your fa—aaa!”
She leapt back in an incredible display of agility, yowling, clearing the entire bed and landing on the far side of the room.
Why? Ember had gotten up and started moving.
“Rika, how many times do we have to go over that—”
“Don’t care!” Rika yelled from the far corner of the room, curled in a massive ball. “Hellhound scary!”
Well, that was that. Markus watched as Ember padded her way to the far side of the room, near the chest, then turned back towards him, stopping only a few inches away and staring up at him.
“Don’t you listen to her,” Markus whispered to Ember, before realising that something was glinting in her teeth.
“Hey, whatcha got there?”
Markus fished the small red gem out of her mouth, the one with the strange markings he didn’t recognise. Ember barked.
“That’s not a chew toy. Do you need a chew toy?”
Ember barked again, this time louder.
“No, Rika isn’t a chew toy either.”
Markus snickered at his own joke. Truthfully, though, he wished he could understand Ember, and precisely why she’d brought this specific gem over to him.
She was clearly trying to tell him something. She’d demonstrated more than once already that she was intelligent enough to do so.
But what?
***
Markus fell asleep after a short session of maneouvreing the Spirit Mana within his body, while Rika fell asleep with a book over her face. He was eager to get his Mana Manipulation to level 5 and unlock whatever an Evolution was, and he felt that practice could only bring him there that much faster.
Still, no luck, at least for now. Nothing ticked over, and he wasn’t sure how much progress he had left to make.
When Markus awoke the next morning, it was to Lexi calling his name. Time to fight, apparently.
Ember was gone once more, while the red crystal at Markus’ side seemed to glow with a faint intensity.
Cyrus, for the first time, was also missing from his cell, something Markus noticed as soon as Lexi prompted him out of bed.
Fight time, it looked like.
Markus pocketed the glowing crystal after a moment’s thought. He wasn’t sure what it was for, but it might come in handy. He grabbed his glaive, splashed some cold water on his face after downing a cup or two, then began his march in the direction of the arena, attempting to detach himself from the worries of his suddenly missing comrade and focus on what mattered most: winning his next fight.
When Markus found his way into the arena, when he saw his opponent, the colour drained from his face.