Jeff’s skin paled, a cold sweat springing up on his brow as he sized up the Mooblon foraging party. The heavily muscled bipedal rhinos presented a much more significant threat than the scrawny goblins of the previous stage.
Jeff slowly unclasped his hand from the sword hilt at his side, and with a mental command stowed it in his ring inventory. He then lifted his arms in the air, in what he hoped was a universal sign of peaceful intentions. Deliberately maintaining a calm, even voice, he spoke to the assembled group before him.
“I mean no harm,” he announced, keeping a wary eye on the spears and horns of the rhino-men. “I simply wish to continue past your home and further up the path,” he gestured along the vine and through the village, pointing upwards, unsure if the Mooblons could understand his speech.
The Mooblon spear-bearer closest to Jeff, his pebbly grey hide a patchwork of scars, peered down at Jeff, scrutinizing him. The creature blinked, leathery lids momentarily occluding its black eyes, and then spoke. Enunciating each word slowly, in a gravelly voice, he grated, “You talk to chief. He decide,” and motioned Jeff to continue forward along the vine into the village.
Although he did not sense the same aura of animosity that had characterized the goblins, these NPCs were indeed formidable creatures. Jeff, lacking any other options, decided to accede to their demands for the moment. He continued walking up the vine to the Mooblons’ hamlet, flanked closely by the spear-wielding rhinos.
As the group—with Jeff the unwilling lead—trooped between the strange acorn-dwellings, the villagers paused whatever they were doing to stare at him with open-eyed curiosity. More Mooblons poked their heads out of the windows and doors of the houses, curious to see what all the commotion was about. Mooblon women stood staring, their brightly colored headwear a cross between a turban and a fruit bowl. There were even Mooblon children, grey-skinned, with the beginnings of small horns poking from their foreheads, who ran excitedly around Jeff and his captors, trumpeting. Once again, Jeff was struck by the level of detail—hard to believe that the whole setup is simply a game simulation created for my benefit, the processing power required to generate this level of realism must be enormous.
Finally they arrived at the center of the hamlet, in front of a larger than average acorn-house. The leader of the scouting party motioned for Jeff to stop. The front door of the dwelling flew open and a giant Mooblon, head and shoulders above the rest, came crashing out. The Mooblon chief was garbed in higher quality attire than that of the rest of the villagers, although it looked like his finery had seen better days. He wore slightly mangy looking, but still regal fur trimmed robes, scuffed leather boots and a wooden crown of some sort, perched at a lopsided angle upon his wrinkled brow.
“What? Who dares disturb my afternoon nap?” The Mooblon Rhino king roared, the sheer decibel level of his voice enough to momentarily silence the local bird and insect population. The chief rubbed his eyes, blinking blearily at Jeff. The leader of the scouting party quickly stepped up, and in a low, respectful tone of voice, filled his leader in on all he knew about Jeff, which wasn’t much.
“So, you wish to climb the mighty Asanso, to reach the zenith of the world, do you?” The NPC king mused aloud, but the question was obviously rhetorical, as without waiting for a response from Jeff, he pivoted to the assembled villagers, his voice rising to an even higher volume as he addressed the gathering crowd.
“With every turn of the moon’s pale face, an outlander reaches out, daring to clutch at the strands of fate. Here stands yet another alien, yearning to climb the sacred Green Way. We are the Custodians of Mooblon, the enforcers of the celestial decree: Only the worthy may ascend to challenge Vasuka.”
Here, the old king paused and shouted out again in an even louder, booming voice, “Only the worthy!”
The villagers, in unison, echoed their king, “Only the worthy!”
Turning back to Jeff—who by this point had resorted to covering his ears to protect his hearing—the king smiled dispassionately, the grey leathery skin around his lips crinkling, but his eyes remaining aloof. “So, alien, are you ready to face the Reckoning?”
Jeff was unceremoniously dragged towards a corner of the village. His protestations and requests for more information on the ‘Reckoning’ fell on deaf ears.
The crowd converged around another of the flat stones on the edge of the village, similar to the one Jeff had observed earlier, but more ceremonial in appearance, with engravings around the circumference.
Jeff and the crowd waited silently for the chiefs arrival. Eventually he appeared, a large sack of the brown nuts slung over his shoulder.
“Your task is simple,” the chief declared solemnly, “Crack open the sacred fruit of Asanso to reveal her beneficence, and your path upwards will be unhindered. But fail, and you shall be reclaimed by the earth from whence you came,” the king gestured towards the steep precipice at the edge of the village.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Jeff realized that being ‘reclaimed’ was a euphemism for being thrown to his death.
Jeff approached the chief confidently. Despite the consequences of failure, he did not anticipate any issues with the task before him.
Selecting a nut from the sack, Jeff placed it carefully in the depression in the center of the stone, before retrieving his short sword from his ring inventory.
“No,” the chief suddenly interjected. “No swords. You profane the Reckoning of Asanso with your ungodly metal tools.”
Heart sinking, Jeff slowly stowed the sword back in his ring. Thinking quickly, he pulled out the goblin dagger he had looted from Leetus. Mutely he presented this non-metallic alternative to the chief, questioningly.
The chief and village elders scrutinized the bone dagger, commenting amongst themselves on its primitive craftsmanship. Luckily for Jeff, after examining the dagger, the chief raised no objection—the bone it was carved from was deemed a ‘natural’ substance.
Jeff however, was concerned that the dagger was simply too crude and frail for the task, even with the use of [Cutting Edge].
The chief stood, observing Jeff with an expression bordering on amusement, a wry smile tugging the corner of his large leathery lips. “The time you have is marked by the sun’s dance with the third branch,” he declared, pointing at a substantial bough stretching above them at an acute angle, like the hand of a clock. Jeff quickly estimated that he had little more than an hour left before his time ran out.
With that, the chief departed, leaving the large sack of nuts beside the ceremonial stone. Most of the villagers returned to their usual activities. Only the original group of foragers, still armed with their spears, remained to oversee Jeff.
Jeff lifted the Ahud nut from the stone table and scrutinized it more closely. The outer shell of the nut was so tough that even with his boosted strength, Jeff was unable to crack it, even after repeatedly smashing it against the stone.
Changing tack, Jeff reminded himself that this was no doubt a test of his Skill use. Removing all of the nuts from the sack, he methodically lined them up atop the outer edge of the circular platform. In total there were seventeen of the brown spheres.
Taking a moment to concentrate, Jeff activated [Cutting Edge]. The faint yellow glow of the skill surrounded him as he moved counterclockwise around the stone, slicing through the nuts one after another with the goblin dagger. Hoots and exclamations of surprise rang out from the assembled Mooblons on guard duty as he succeeded in slicing through the tough outer shells of the nuts. But to his disappointment, he had only managed to cut completely through two of them before the Skill dissipated, his dagger skittering harmlessly off the resistant outer shell of the next nut in line.
What with the bone blade’s relative bluntness in comparison to its steel counterparts, and the mana drain from using the Skill, it started to become apparent to Jeff that he wouldn’t be able to open all of the nuts within the time limit. Not unless he radically altered his approach.
Jeff concentrated, visualizing his trajectory around the circle and the precise tilt of the knife in his grip. This time, there was a modest improvement in his performance, and he was able to cleave through three more of the massive seeds before the effect of his Skill wore out. This minor victory was overshadowed by the twelve nuts still arrayed around the stone circle, remaining obstinately un-cracked as the sun sank lower in the sky.
Jeff assumed a meditative posture, his back against the cool surface of the stone circle, crosslegged upon the earth. There has to be a reason why the Skill functioned better the second time, he told himself. He somehow needed to amplify the effect by an order of magnitude if he had any hope of cutting through all of the remaining nuts. How to make the blade sharper, he wondered? Opening his Skill list, he once again read the description attached to [Cutting Edge].
‘Increases the sharpness of a blade 10-fold, causing greatly increased damage’
As he mulled over the Skill description, a sudden revelation occurred to him. Sharpness seemed to be the key here. Once again, Jeff thought back to his Vision during his evolution, and the strange power the Steel Mage had unleashed. Holding the dagger in his hand, he stared down at its rough cutting edge. Perhaps, he thought, the sharpness is not simply connected with the utility of the blade itself, but also something to do with the wielder?
Jeff continued to stare at the dagger, familiarizing himself intimately with every facet of the weapon, every notch and kink along its bony length. As he continued to stare down at the knife, a new understanding and acceptance of the dagger’s profile blossomed in his mind. He felt a new connection being forged, a melding of his intent and the weapon’s potential. The limitations of the tool he held were accepted calmly, and a new awareness of its true nature and capabilities began to form.
Be the blade, Jeff murmured to himself, feeling a steely sharpness creep over his thoughts. Jeff rose, activating the [Cutting Edge] skill once again. A yellow nimbus shone forth from his right hand, and the very air around him stilled as he raised his arm in a sweeping motion.
The dagger felt like an extension of his own arm now, so familiar was he with its form and function. Jeff held the dagger at waist height as he calmly began his circuit around the stone circle, each nut falling into two separate halves as he sliced through it effortlessly. The assembled Mooblons watched in wide-eyed astonishment as he completed the Reckoning.
Level up!
Congratulations. You have reached Level 21
You have passed a System Generated Test!
Reward Five Omega Energy Points
This message was followed immediately by another.
Skill Upgrade: [Cutting Edge]
Congratulations! Your Cutting Edge Skill has now reached Level 2
Description: This skill is now upgraded to a dual Active/Passive Skill. Your blade’s sharpness is multiplied 20-fold when actively using the skill. The Skill will also work constantly as a passive buff, increasing the sharpness of any blade you wield. Potential damage is significantly increased, and wounds inflicted in battle will take longer than normal to heal. Your attack will pierce all mundane armor with ease—even Grade J runic armor will offer little protection to your enemies.