Duke Vugra, Lord of Daena, a High Elf and level 200 Fire Tyrant, sat on a throne of dense red wood with purple silk cushions. A younger Moon Elf, his blue-tinged pale skin grayed with weariness, knelt at the foot of the marble dais leading up to the throne, his head bowed low.
“What is the report from our scouts on the new patches from the Sublimation?” He asked, his voice heavy, his suppressed aura intense enough that those below level 40 often had difficulty breathing in his presence. Sanisir Vugra was ancient, even by the standards of a biologically immortal High Elf. He was among the first of his world’s people born within the System, and he had spent the last three thousand years building Daena into a power in the isolated area of the frontier it stood in.
The young Moon Elf, one Testra Ganuva, was a Level 74 Arcane Ranger and the leader of the main scouting mission sent out when the Duke detected a Sublimation, a feat that no other in the city was capable of. He was a member of a small clan of his people who had vowed loyalty to Vugra over four hundred years in the past, and Testra himself was about as loyal as it was possible for a retainer to be.
“There are seven patches. Four are ‘wilderness’ types containing newborn dungeons, with average levels in each being 21, 35, 63, and 130 respectively. The one closest to Daena is the level 63 dungeon, primarily inhabited by Fallen Orcs and Steel Boars. It is my opinion that it would be a good spot for training the veteran guards once the core is defeated and claimed,” He said.
“And the three remaining patches?” Vugra asked.
“One is a small town and shows signs of high technology and images that were primarily of humans. It has become a level 28 Raid Zone inhabited by Tier 2 demons. The resources to be gained by conquering the zone are minimal, from my observations, beyond a large amount of iron and steel that seems to be integrated into the construction.”
“The second is what looks to have been some kind of large-scale factory, designed to produce some kind of wheeled vehicle. It has become a level 51 Raid Zone primarily inhabited by vampire gnomes, for some reason. It was our Technomancer’s opinion that it could be repurposed to produce armored wagons and simple plate for other uses with minimal repairs and alterations,” The scout continued.
“The last zone… is definitely a city. A massive one that we were unable to completely map during our time there. It is our Earth Mage’s opinion that it is over two thousand square kilometers in size, with a large surviving population still fighting off the mobs put down by the System. From what we can tell, the city is split into fifty-four Raid Zones, each with their own Raid Bosses and a different type of creature dominant in the area. One has apparently already been reclaimed by local forces, who have established it as a fortress and used the System Interface to remake it as such. The most troubling of the Zones is a level 164 Zone controlled by Tier 3 Fallen Angels, with a tower in the center that has become a nest for a level 300 Long Dragon,” The elf finished his explanation.
Vugra sighed deeply, “That last patch is troubling indeed. The survivors are potential allies if they have managed to reclaim a Raid Zone so early on, but the sheer power of a Zone full of Tier 3 Angels… it is unlikely that even my own Raid Group could handle that Zone without help from other cities.”
Like most rulers in the System, Duke Vugra had a personal Raid Group of 72 high-level former adventurers sworn into his service. Their purpose was for times like this, to allow the city to claim Raid Zones, dungeons, and other resources that appeared after a Sublimation.
Vugra was practical, unlike some rulers, which was why he considered the survivors to be potential allies rather than chattel or pawns like many would have. His city might be considered a rough and tumble den of iniquity by many in the more civilized areas, but he had few of the crueler impulses often seen at the center of the continent’s ‘civilized society’.
Indeed, the course he was considering regarding that massive patch was one few others would have. Most would have simply claimed whatever they could, installed a buffer zone around the Zone with the Angels, made sacrifices to the Long Dragon, and enslaved the newly-transferred inhabitants. However, he saw the potential benefits of aiding in the rise of a new city with high-level areas nearby to level off of.
Managing such a city himself was not unattractive, but he knew from experience that the System would bring numerous tribulations on such an area. He had no wish to be at the center of such trouble personally, given the cost it was likely to have for him personally and his people in general.
“Testra, I want you to guide Veha and Dugrit on a diplomatic mission to the enclave of survivors offering an alliance and aid to help them solidify their position. We will also put up a contract at the Adventurers Association to help them learn the System and begin the process of establishing themselves. At the same time, once you arrive, you are to begin the process of mapping the area completely, so that we can find Zones that might provide resources worth our investment in the area,” Vugra ordered.
“Your Grace, if I may…” A young Duergar, his gray skin covered in thousands of runic tattoos, interjected from behind the throne.
“Dreg, I allow you to stand behind me as a tribute to your grandfather’s loyalty, not so you can interfere with matters above your station,” Vugra reproved. Dreg was the grandson of the head of the city’s Duergar clan, who took on the role of protecting the passages to the underground labyrinth from creatures trying to break into the city proper. As such, he honored the boy with the right to stand behind him as an honorary advisor, but he held no official position in Vugra’s court. That honor was reserved for his grandfather alone.
The Duergar boy bowed his head, his lips twisting in obvious frustration.
“Your Grace, if I might intervene for the boy?” An ancient High Human, his long silver hair and glowing green eyes separating him from the low Tier 1 race his kind originated emerged from the shadows behind the throne to join the boy standing just behind their lord.
“Speak Gerahl, you have earned the right to advise me here a hundred times over,” Vugra’s tone was quite a bit different when addressing the High Human Order Master. Gerahl was Level 300, the highest level individual in Daena, and he was Tier 3, approaching ascension to Tier 4, which would force him to leave the ‘lower realm’ of the System. He had been holding off the transformation for decades in order to remain with his friend and master as long as possible.
“The boy is merely attempting to inform you of what his grandfather’s opinion on this matter might be. He might be wrong or he might be right, but it is my opinion that you should allow him to speak as if he were the voice of his grandfather,” Gerahl said slowly, in quiet but clearly enunciated tones. His Agility and Intelligence were both over 500, which made functioning at the ‘normal’ speeds most experienced troublesome to him. As such, he always sounded like he was weighing every word individually for its worth, as if more meaning were infused into every syllable.
“Very well. Dreg, you may speak, but be aware that every word you allow out of your mouth will be weighed against your grandfather’s and your family’s honor as a whole,” Vugra warned, taking Gerahl’s advice, much as he always did. Gerahl was well over twelve thousand years old and one of the most powerful beings on the continent. If it weren’t for the fact that he spent most of his time asleep to retain his sanity, he would likely be a ruler himself.
Dreg bowed deeply once to Vugra before bowing a second time to his benefactor, honest gratitude on his face. It seemed out of place to some others in the audience hall, because Duergar rarely acknowledged other races as anything other than chattel or enemies. Many often wondered how Vugra had managed to gain the loyalty of the Duergar clan living below.
“My Lord, while I do not object to your course of action, I wish to add a report from my grandfather’s scouts,” Dreg said, keeping his head bowed. Now that he was acting as a representative of a vassal rather than an honorary advisor, he was required to abase himself to an extent.
“Oh? I was unaware your clan had sent out scouts to the patches,” Vugra said, narrowing his eyes slightly, his aura becoming cold as ice. The Duke was not a man who enjoyed tolerating his subordinates getting ahead of themselves, and he anticipated a need to have a ‘conversation’ with the young man’s grandfather some day soon.
“It was not my grandfather’s intention to send scouts to a patch. Instead, we were investigating a disruption in the flow of monsters in the dark below and came upon the large patch your Ranger spoke of by accident,” Dreg replied.
“So it extends underground?” Vugra asked, his curiosity piqued.
“Yes, extensively. It seems they had some kind of rail-based transportation system that extends throughout the giant city. The tunnels themselves are intact, but there are large numbers of goblins and undead throughout. Our rogues were barely able to get out alive,” He replied.
“Levels?” Vugra asked.
“The undead seem to mostly sit between 20 and 40, but the lowest level goblins are the forties.”
“That is going to create an interesting situation once the resource nodes start popping up in the underground,” Gerahl remarked.
Vugra pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought for several minutes, considering the implications. He turned to an armored man standing at the foot of the dais, his plate armor covering him from head to toe, “Dugrit, when you go to the survivors’ enclave, you are to take fifty of your personal retainers with you. Preferably, they should be specialists in underground fighting, with at least four Earth Magic users and twelve knight Classes.”
The command made sense. In the underground, if you weren’t a dwarf, you needed Earth Magic and armored warriors to take the brunt of swarm attacks. The rest of the unit’s composition would be where Dugrit showed his capability or incompetence. Like most of Vugra’s orders, it was a test as much as a command.
Dugrit bowed from the waist before departing. The armored man was Vugra’s distant relative, sent to him for tempering. As such, he was allowed some leeway in addressing the Duke, but his failures and successes both would reflect on the cadet branch of the family he came from. Typical of his family, the Zaldecks, he was disinterested in courtesies, focused on leveling and improving his ability to make war.
“Are you certain Veha will be able to rein him in, your Grace?” Gerahl asked curiously. He had fallen asleep briefly while young Dreg was speaking, but he had awakened long enough to witness Dugrit’s orders and his departure.
“It will test whether my daughter has the potential to lead or not. Rugrit might be trouble but no more so than any other warrior brat from that particular branch of the family. If she cannot handle him, she has no business trying to succeed to her mother’s County,” The Duke replied, shrugging dismissively. In his long, long life, he had married and had children hundreds of times, usually with other races. Veha was merely the latest in a long line of children, most of which had disappointed him to one extent or another.
After everyone else left, Vugra was apparently left alone atop his throne, save for a few guards at the opposite end of the audience hall. It was at that point that the shadow at his feet spoke, “Master, I have news.”
“Zin, what is it?” Vugra asked, broken out of his reverie. Vugra was ancient enough that he spent almost as much time in reverie as Gerahl spent asleep.
“One of my agents reports that a survivor from one of the patches is taking the trial to join the Adventurers Association,” The shadow replied. Zin was Vugra’s soul familiar, a shadow elemental that also served as his spymaster. The creature was almost as old as its master, and its long existence had allowed it to gain full sentience.
“Your assessment?” The Duke asked, almost idly. His manner was deceptive, as there was rarely a time he did or said anything without a reason.
“Immense potential. His aura is already dominant despite his low level. His cultivation is also high for the period of time he has been within the System. I anticipate he will do well,” The elemental replied without hesitation. A mortal might have been troubled by Lyam, but the elemental and its master had seen much in their long lives. Lyam might be a troubling existence to some and a source of chaos to others, but to Vugra, he was almost a known quantity, despite having never met him.
There was something to be said for the knowledge born of four thousand years of experience in a world of endless possibilities.
“Keep one of your clones watching for him at the Association, then have it enter his shadow. If he looks to be useful, we can test him later,” Vugra said a moment later. He was left alone, his shadow empty once more.
Sublimations always bring trouble. Those who stick their necks out too far will get their heads cut off, and those who fail to think ahead will lose much, He thought as he returned to his interrupted reverie.
___________________________________________________________
Lyam coldly ran his latest sword through the throat of yet another Drone, blasting two others off their feet with a quick surge of psychokinesis, followed by a Crush to the chest area on each. For all his base intelligence, Lyam didn’t care to recall just how many of the bug-men he had killed these past four days. However, his levels had shot up accordingly.
Name: Lyam Aldren
Level: 23
Race: Saevere
Profession: Hired Killer
Class: Curse Blade
Title: Cain’s Successor, Kinslayer, The First Curse Blade
Available AP: 45
Available SP: 9
HP: 3070/3070
MP: 2750/2750
Str: 21
Agi: 35
Dex: 35
Con: 23
End: 20
Int: 33
Will: 34
Cha: 14
Lck: 15
Martial Skills: Light Blades 42, Long Blades 32 ,Backstab 39, Stealth 42, Magic Resistance 6, Shadow Manipulation 15
Magic Skills: True Sight 45, Gravity Magic 29, Curse Magic 12, Soul Magic 1, Karma Manipulation 1
Crafting Skills: Blood Curse Tattoo 15, Enchanting 10, Skinning 3
Knowledge Skills: Anatomy 15
Spells: Psychokinesis, Gravity Arrow, Blood Curse, Create Soul Familiar, Blood Curse: Bloodfire (invocation and manipulation, basic invocation consumes 1 HP and 1 MP per second), Karmic Sacrifice, Gravity Manipulation, Levitation (Gravity)
Weapon Style: Cat Dances with Swords (Novice)
Non-Combat: Perception 50, Mana Cultivation 25, Dissection 1
Abilities: Soul Weapon (Novice), Shadow Cloak (Novice)
Perks: Kinslayer I (5% damage boost to sapient humanoids, -5% to damage taken from sapient humanoids), Absolute Metabolism (Perfect immunity to and absorption of poison, disease, and curses)
Racial Perks: Mana Core, Innovative Nature II, Inspiration
Talents: Compartmentalization (This individual can shuffle his emotions to the side almost at will), Cold Mind (This individual will ignore all attempts to sway him emotionally from a chosen course, whether born of magic or conventional means), Persona Creation (This individual naturally adopts personality traits that will give him a better chance of success in his chosen endeavors), Greater Magic Affinity (potential to master at least 3 schools of magic, two basic, one Celestial, Class Schools do not count for Affinity Talents)
He technically had access to the right to add on a new Class, but apparently one could not do so inside a Dungeon. His gains in his various skills had visibly slowed in his status, but he felt that each new point gained him exponentially more than before. Backstab and Stealth got a near-constant workout, but the visible gains were as minimal as could be.
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He liked the insights born of testing Gravity Manipulation. Whereas psychokinesis (Gravity) functioned by creating tiny gravity fields of varying intensity around the user, Gravity Manipulation was much more hands-on, requiring precise control to do anything at all. Mimicking psychokinesis, for example, required five times as much mana as actually using the spell he already had.
However, for relatively simple applications, like creating an opposing gravity field above his head to allow for levitation in place, the cost was minimal, actually somewhat less than his MP regen. Using it for that had actually given him his first self-discovered spell, Levitation. He had other ideas, but the Ragar were still too dangerous to allow for on-the-spot testing.
He really did need to consider what he should do with his AP and SP, but he felt like he was going in no particular direction whenever he distributed them, acting on whim rather than planning his future progress.
Another thing he had noticed was that his level had stopped going up for an entire day when he hit level 19, but after he hit level 20, levels 21 through 23 had come rapidly afterward. He never bothered to look at the required xp for leveling, but he was pretty sure that there was an experience gap of some sort every ten levels.
Curious, he decided to check.
XP to Level 24 8451/34320
Considering that he got around 4000 xp for the Level 40 Warriors and 1200 xp for the Drones of the same level, it wasn’t a stretch to say he could probably hit level 24 in a few hours, I’ll head on to that closed room when I hit Level 29, He decided. He had no desire to grind out levels until he got over the hump that was likely to be present to reach 30. While his icy cold side kept him from feeling it most of the time, most of his personas weren’t exactly fond of being underground for long periods of time.
Getting another six levels of AP and SP would be useful, and he had a feeling he would need it for what was beyond the massive double doors he had found the previous day at the end of a long series of caverns, each packed with Warriors and Shamans. The sense he got of what was behind the door screamed danger to him, and pumping his stats and grinding his skills were the only things he could reasonably do before challenging what lay inside.
I really should distribute what I already have… He thought reluctantly. The truth was, he was killing the level 40s easily now that he had their patterns down. The Warriors always used their weapons and shields the same way, and the drones always swung their pickaxes at the same angle. Even the Shamans never really varied their casting that much.
He wasn’t sure whether this was because they were constructs of some sort or because Ragar were just that way from the beginning, but his combat skills were unlikely to get any better going against creatures that had become so predictable to him.
With a sigh, he began distributing his AP, Five to Agility, five to Dexterity, five to Strength, five to Endurance, five to Constitution, ten to Intelligence, and ten to Willpower.
The sheer surge of power he felt from 45 Attribute Points was intoxicating, a drug so strong that most people would have instantly become addicted. However, Lyam’s spirit and mind were encased in the ice of his coldest persona, erasing the possibility of addiction to the System’s ‘rewards’ before it could truly come into play. On previous level ups, it had not been an issue, mostly because Lyam was either not paying attention or because the gains had been minor. Eight levels – one of them a tenth level – in one go was a bit much, though.
He went ahead and picked up Dimension Thrust, since it was the last Class Skill he actually wanted in his heart of hearts, then took a look at the changes.
Name: Lyam Aldren
Level: 23
Race: Saevere
Profession: Hired Killer
Class: Curse Blade
Title: Cain’s Successor, Kinslayer, The First Curse Blade
Available AP: 0
Available SP: 4
HP: 4320/4320
MP: 3815/3815
Str: 26
Agi: 40
Dex: 40
Con: 28
End: 20
Int: 43
Will: 43
Cha: 14
Lck: 15
Martial Skills: Light Blades 42, Long Blades 32 ,Backstab 39, Stealth 42, Magic Resistance 6, Shadow Manipulation 15
Magic Skills: True Sight 45, Gravity Magic 29, Curse Magic 12, Soul Magic 1, Karma Manipulation 1
Crafting Skills: Blood Curse Tattoo 15, Enchanting 10, Skinning 3
Knowledge Skills: Anatomy 15
Spells: Psychokinesis, Gravity Arrow, Blood Curse, Create Soul Familiar, Blood Curse: Bloodfire (invocation and manipulation, basic invocation consumes 1 HP and 1 MP per second), Karmic Sacrifice, Gravity Manipulation, Levitation (Gravity)
Weapon Style: Cat Dances with Swords (Novice)
Non-Combat: Perception 50, Mana Cultivation 25, Dissection 1
Abilities: Soul Weapon (Novice), Shadow Cloak (Novice), Dimension Thrust (Novice)
Perks: Kinslayer I (5% damage boost to sapient humanoids, -5% to damage taken from sapient humanoids), Absolute Metabolism (Perfect immunity to and absorption of poison, disease, and curses)
Racial Perks: Mana Core, Innovative Nature II, Inspiration
Talents: Compartmentalization (This individual can shuffle his emotions to the side almost at will), Cold Mind (This individual will ignore all attempts to sway him emotionally from a chosen course, whether born of magic or conventional means), Persona Creation (This individual naturally adopts personality traits that will give him a better chance of success in his chosen endeavors), Greater Magic Affinity (potential to master at least 3 schools of magic, two basic, one Celestial, Class Schools do not count for Affinity Talents)
Lyam felt a bit drunk, the endorphins from the large number of AP and the adjustments his body and mind were going through making it difficult for him to concentrate. So, he sat down and took one of the waterskins he’d found on the Ragar from his inventory and gulped it down, followed by a few strips of dried meat and a roasted fungus his True Sight assured him was edible.
He examined the knowledge of Dimensional Thrust in his mind, and he immediately developed a headache. One thing he had noticed was that the more alien the knowledge of a spell or skill was to him, the more uncomfortable it made him when he first got it. Dimensional Thrust was worse than when he got Psychokinesis or his sword style, which was saying a great deal.
A great deal of the knowledge was concepts he had never encountered before, and his high school level of understanding of quantum physics was not enough to serve as a foundation for the knowledge the technique gave him. He sensed that his efficiency with the technique would be absolutely horrid.
Gravity Magic was apparently tangentially-related to the Dimensional Magic mentioned in the description of the technique, but he could tell it would only shave off a small amount of the cost in MP for using it.
Great, I grabbed a technique that I am half-sure I won’t be able to use, He grumbled to himself, cursing his impulsiveness.
Lyam looked in his inventory and sighed. It was chock-full of Mana-warped Ragar livers, for some reason. It was a common drop from the Shamans, and his True Sight called them alchemical ingredients, so he had chosen to keep them, against his better judgment.
Another disgusting drop that he was growing increasingly tired of were the Scout Ragar Proboscis. Apparently, they were some kind of crafting material, but Lyam honestly couldn’t see a use for them. There were over two dozen of them in his inventory, stacked in a single slot.
The rest of his inventory was almost entirely full of weapons, though he broke them so often that he was growing accustomed to summoning a new sword every time his last one broke. The spears and axes he had no experience with, but he considered trying them out in battle. The axe… he sensed that he couldn’t use his weapon style with it, but it might be possible with the long-bladed spears some of the higher-level Warriors used.
Their swords generally only last two or three fights before breaking. No surprise, since they are made of iron, instead of steel or something better. A few parries at full force, and they shatter like glass, He thought as he inspected his most recent weapon. It was already dented at several points along the edge, mostly from hits to harder pieces of chitin and bone. He could see a hairline crack had formed near the tip, and he estimated it would last no more than two blows or one parry. With a sigh, he tossed it aside and summoned another, placing the blade in the sheath at his side.
He seriously doubted the blades would be worth anything on the outside. The weapons most of the adventurers at the Association were wearing, even the newbies, were all of steel or some other metal that radiated power. He supposed the iron might be repurposed into steel weapons after being melted down, but he seriously doubted anyone would use the blades themselves.
His shortsword, on the other hand… it was showing no signs of dings, scratches, or dents no matter how many times it passed through chitin or clashed with Ragar blades. He drew it and inspected the weapon. It didn’t really fit with his style, as Laevarian had pointed out. Cat Dances with Blades was a style that liked curved edges rather than straight, and it preferred a long one rather than short. However, he could still use it, even if his implanted muscle memory made it uncomfortable.
A few of the Scouts had dropped decent-quality common crossbows, but the bolts could only penetrate Drones, Shamans, or Scouts. They just clattered off the chitin of the larger and stronger Warriors. As such, Lyam had taken to tossing out all but three good-condition crossbows while inventorying massive stacks of bolts, but he rarely used them.
He re-sheathed the sword and took out his needles and ink, along with his book of runes. Over the past few days, he had been considering his second tattoo. Based on the knowledge in the book and that which came from his Blood Curse Tattoo skill, he knew that, rather than making a single ‘closed’ tattoo, it was generally more effective to create a series of ‘linked’ tattoos that could be added to over time to allow the user to combine varying effects. His bloodfire tattoo was marginally useful, as cauterizing wounds slowed regeneration and inserting bloodfire into vital areas made it possible to destroy the brain or heart of the Ragar more easily. However, he had had some ideas on how to enhance it, based on knowledge he was absorbing from a book that dropped from a Shaman two days earlier.
Musings on the Elements, Aspects, and Schools of Magic by Reson Fook was the book the Shaman had dropped, and he had taken to reading it during his rest breaks. One particular chapter, on the nature of how combining elements and aspects into existing schools of magic could make hybrid spells, had caught his interest. It said that the cost for out-of-school spells was greatly reduced when hybridized and the power was often increased, and this had given him the inspiration to expand his first tattoo, rather than merely starting another.
He began pricking the skin on his left arm, adding tiny runes that linked to the original ‘fire’ rune in a curving, spiraling line toward another central rune farther up the arm. This linked to the runes for ‘force’ and ‘space’, which were the combined runes that represented the Gravity Magic school. He then added runes for ‘manipulation’, ‘expansion’, ‘contraction’, around it before starting another line of linking runes that led down to his underarm.
The third central rune he added in was the rune for ‘wind’, circling it with the ‘manipulation’, ‘expansion’, ‘compression’, and ‘combination’ runes before linking it back to the original bloodfire tattoo. This took up almost the entirety of his left forearm, and he could sense that he wouldn’t be able to add any more primary runes to that part of his body until he had a higher level, both in his skill and in general. He looked at the long series of messages that had popped up and steeled himself for what was to come next.
You have created Blood Curse Tattoo: Gravity Manipulation. Do you wish to sacrifice 100 max HP permanently to empower it? Y/N (this spell has a base cost of 2 HP and 2 MP per second at base)
You have crated Blood Curse Tattoo: Wind Manipulation. Do you wish to sacrifice 150 max HP permanently to empower it? Y/N (This spell has a base cost of 4 HP and 4 MP per second at base)
You have created a new Blood Curse Tattoo Array. Do you wish to sacrifice 50 max HP to permanently empower it? Y/N (Full use of this Array will cost 15 HP and 15 MP per second at base, doubling for every 30% increase in power)
He said yes to all three messages and wanted to scream as it felt like his arm caught on fire, the blood ink burning itself into his flesh even deeper than before. He could sense a small amount of karmic imbalance taint his mana, and he instinctively understood that he would need to spend some time cycling in meditation to rid himself of it.
What do you wish to name your Blood Curse Tattoo Array?
“Annihilation Codex,” He whispered, grinning slightly at the somewhat over-the-top (and somewhat nonsensical) choice of name.
For creating a new Blood Curse Tattoo Array, you are given the Title, Innovator (grants 25% increase to success rate when crafting or designing using unstable or chaotic materials) and the Skin Caster Perk (grants a 10% reduction in cost to spells cast through body piercings, tattoos and scarification patterns).
For your creation of something new, you gain +1 to Intelligence and +1 to Willpower.
You have reached Journeyman in Enchantment and Blood Curse Tattoo. For reaching Journeyman, you have received a reward box.
What could only be described as a treasure chest of gold suddenly appeared in front of him, crashing to the ground. He instinctively reached out and touched its surface, and it popped open, revealing an odd forearm-length glove of linked plates with a look similar to brass, with leather beneath that left the fingers exposed. He inspected it using True Sight.
Curse Dagger’s Armory
Quality: Unique
Material: Orichalcum, Abomination Leather, Silver
Enchantment: Weapon Conjuration, Greater Self-repair, Evolution, Soul-Bonded
Description: A specialized enchanted device specialized for use by holders of the Curse Dagger Class by the System. It utilizes the inherent transformative aspects of orichalcum and Abomination Leather to allow the user to conjure any weapon the user might desire. The weapon will be of rare quality and will last until the user dismisses it or it is destroyed. The weapons conjured by this artifact cannot be passed to others and are only usable by the Soul-Bonded user of the Armory.
Eagerly, he put the glove on his left arm, over his tattoos, and he concentrated on creating a katana, creating an image in his head of the weapons he had seen in movies. A perfect replica appeared in his right hand, and he immediately went into one of the Cat Dances with Blades’ flowing kata.
The weapon was almost perfect, but he found that it wasn’t quite what the style seemed to want. With a frown, he allowed the glove to destroy the weapon, then created a new one, widening the blade slightly and giving it a little more curve. This time, the movements of the style were as perfect as his Novice knowledge of it would allow.
On impulse, he dismissed the blade again, this time forming a wooden pole roughly two feet in length in place of the hilt, shortening the blade and adding it to the end. This weapon… felt the most natural of all. He sensed that this was the weapon the ancient cat Grandmaster had wielded the most in his life, a swordstaff meant for war rather than duels or brawling.
This time his movements were sweeping, meant to hack through armor, sever limbs, and split heads instead of slicing arteries and muscles. While the movements were still fluid, his body constantly flowing from move to move, the blows were no longer light and glancing.
This… this is how I want to fight, He came to a realization. While there was something to be said for the elegance of Cat Dances with Blades’ sword and dagger styles, he very much liked the swordstaff more. It just… called to him.
Impulsively, he activated his Soul Weapon skill, and he was given a notification that caused his shoulders to slump with disappointment.
You may not select Curse Dagger’s Armory as your Soul Weapon, as it is a magical device, not a weapon.
Well, there went that idea, Lyam thought with disappointment. He would just have to have a really good sword-staff in the same style made when he returned to town. He was hopeful he would be able to pay for it with the parts or – if all else failed – the decent bounty of System Credits he was getting with each kill. The number seemed to decrease with each level he gained relative to the enemies, but it was still a lot.
He turned his eyes toward the high-level rooms that should have begun respawning and started to prepare to test out his new armaments and tattoo.
______________________________________________________
Lyam took an axe on the haft of his swordstaff just below his left hand, shifting his weight and the angle of the shaft so that most of the force of the blow went past him, causing the Ragar Warrior to stumble forwards, leaving him open to Lyam’s next strike. Lyam used the momentum given to him by the axe blow, sweeping the sword-staff around in a scything blow that sliced through the Warrior’s neck like butter.
He flowed past the falling corpse and slammed the metal ball on the opposite end of the haft into the shield of another Warrior, disrupting his charge, then tripped the creature with a surge of psychokinesis, allowing him to sweep past it. Behind the warrior were two Scouts with crossbows and four Shamans. Acid bolts fired in a volley from the Shamans, crossbow bolts threatening from outside the streams of corrosive fluid.
Lyam ducked under the crossbow bolt on the left and sent out a Gravity Arrow, punching fist-sized hole in the leg of the Scout who had fired the bolt. He then leapt forward, sweeping the swordstaff across his body in a strike that severed the bug-man’s right arm. A smashing blow from the haft knocked one of the Shamans behind him into the others, briefly sending two of them to the ground.
A Corruption Bolt lanced out from one of the other two, and Lyam tossed the sword staff into its way, causing the conjured weapon to decay into dust in seconds. The remaining Scout rushed him with a wickedly-curved dagger, but another swordstaff appeared in Lyam’s hands a moment later, allowing him to thrust the tip of the weapon up into the creature’s brain.
Lyam dismissed the weapon and swept past the dying Scout, holding out his left hand and focusing on the hidden tattoo, activating the Array. A transparent orb the size of his head with a ball of flame the size of fist appeared, the air around it distorting the vision of those who watched as it surged in to further fuel the bloodfire within. It took only a second for the powerful spell to form, a second in which Lyam experienced immense agony as the curse tattoo extracted its price from him, and it shot forward into the Shamans, expanding into a blast of incredibly intense flames that turned them to ash in an instant, blasting him several feet backward.
Lyam caught himself with a surge of psychokinesis before setting himself down on his feet, Ok… looks like the Annihilation Codex is as powerful as I hoped… compressing the flame with gravity as I fueled it with oxygen worked just like I hoped…
In fact, he was pretty sure the spell would be even more devastating, if he ever gained access to Fire and Wind Magic. The Wind Manipulation tattoo alone was basically useful for moving small amounts of air from one place to another, but activating the array quadrupled the power of all three spells. The unfortunate part of it was that it also increased the pain he suffered as his HP and MP were burned away by ten times.
Good for emergencies or a preemptive attack but not so much for constant use, He thought as he conjured a new swordstaff and used it to decapitate the remaining Warrior and Scout as if their attempts to strike him meant nothing. Their green ichor spraying across the walls didn’t even disturb his thoughts anymore, as he’d stopped thinking of the giant humanoid bugs as unnatural after the third day.
Despite his harsh assessment of the spell, he smiled a smile that would not have looked out of place on a boy after kissing his first love… an expression that was more than a little disturbing considering his face was splashed with green ichor and two spots were melting partially from stray drops of acid.
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“That… was unexpected,” Laevarian said as he sat back, his expression more than a little disturbed. That spell and the smile Lyam made afterward were more than a little frightening. He hadn’t had any idea of what Lyam was doing when he expanded that runic tattoo on his left arm, but now that he did, he thought the potential of such tattooed spells was no longer something he could dismiss out of hand, which he had before.
“That creature gets scarier with each level. I still thought you were exaggerating when you described his inventiveness before, but that…” Urgo shook his head, looking a bit bothered. For him, the more disturbing aspect of that last battle was the spell itself. The knowledge of reality required to understand the concepts to create a hybrid spell without access to two of the schools of magic involved was frightening. People from technological worlds tended to end up being more focused on magitech than anything else, so he had never seen what the first generation arrivals could do if they devoted themselves to magic.
Laevarian knew the stories of the great magi that tended to come from the survivors of technological worlds Sublimated by the System, so he wasn’t surprised by the inventive spellcasting as much as the childish smile of glee Lyam had on his face when he slaughtered the Ragar using it. He was fairly sure that Lyam had just discovered part of his Way, though not his Dao. That it was so destructive troubled him and told him he was right to obey the System’s prodding not to stay with the Saevere.
Laevarian tossed another empty bottle of spirits into the fifth wooden box they were using as rubbish bins and popped open another, taking a deeper gulp this time. He really wanted to cut ties and run now, but he had promised himself to watch Lyam’s run through the Challenge Dungeon to the end before departing.
Urgo was eager to see what Lyam could do with a proper party supporting him. As the Head of the Daena Adventurers Association, he got a cut of all commissions, so he very much wanted the Saevere out and earning money for the Association.
They settled back down to watch silently, their reasons for being so intent diverging completely.