Ascendant
You have surpassed the limits of a standard, non-enhanced member of your race in every dimension. Your body and mind have been baptized in and reformed by mana. You are on a path scarce few ever tread: A path to something greater.
+500 Prestige
Gain Ability: Divine Synergy
Divine Synergy
Though some in more obvious ways than others, every stat interacts with and enhances the rest. You have embraced this truth and taken it to the next level, becoming stronger in all manners.
At each level, +1 to your lowest stat.
+5% bonus to all experience gains and skill growth
All first threshold bonuses have been strengthened.
Note: These bonuses are not retroactive.
Getting an achievement for passing all the first thresholds wasn’t that surprising. The extent of the rewards, however, definitely was. Even as drained as I felt, I couldn’t help but be a bit floored. Killing a Protagonist had netted me 250 Prestige. Not even counting the other bonuses, was this truly a feat worth double that?
I tried to do the math to figure out just how rare the achievement was. With nine stats that started at 10, it would take 135 stat points to get them all up to 25. Assuming someone had a Rare class, they would get three stats per level from their class, two from their race, and then one point of Constitution. With six stats per level, that came out to… 23 levels worth of stats? Certainly the achievement couldn’t be that rare if it was possible to get it at level 24.
Then again, who’s willing to sink so many points into stats they don’t need? It wasn’t as though a warrior would throw 15 points into Wisdom even if they were level 50. Same with a mage and Dexterity or Endurance.
Actually, maybe that’s not the right way to think about it to begin with. Most stat points weren’t free points, were they? They were often auto-assigned by someone’s class or race.
Constitution was easy considering everyone seemed to get a point each level. Outside of that, though, if you had a Rare class that gave points to Dexterity, Strength, and Endurance every level, and your race alternated between giving points to Intelligence and Wisdom every other level — an incredibly unlikely scenario to begin with — then you still wouldn’t be touching Charisma, Luck, or Perception.
If that Rare classer only got one free stat point per level, getting this achievement would require them to spend a full 45 levels worth of their free points, specifically into the stats that weren’t helpful to their class.
Of course, there were workarounds considering that you could get stats from boons, achievements, potions, and more, but those were hardly common occurrences. Plus, I doubted it would be easy to make it to level 46 in the first place if you kept dumping your free stats into areas that didn’t help you as much.
Huh. So outside of freaks like me and maybe some weird all-rounder classes, I guess this basically just doesn’t happen? Regardless of why the achievement was considered so rare, it was undeniably a great benefit to me. Considering the bonuses weren’t retroactive, getting it at such a low level was even better too.
My math and musings had helped to take my mind off of some of the darker memories that came with my notifications, but as I moved on, I was plunged right back into the deep end.
Pain Resistance has reached level 12!
Bleed Resistance has reached level 11!
Traum…??!on ?? …ed 17.
?!x$$ …ppresion has !!! 18?
Trauma Suppression has reached level 17!
Trauma Suppression has reached level 18!
Warning: Skill instability detected! Further skill usage may result in skill integrity damage.
…
Pain Resistance has reached level 15!
Bleed Resistance has reached level 13!
Mental Resistance has reached level 12!
More stable than I’d been when receiving these notifications, I recalled exactly what methods of torture Warram had been using on me during each skill level, filing that information away.
Maybe something to look into if I ever need to level those skills more.
I was fairly certain there was something wrong with that thought, but I didn’t care. Perhaps the fact that these notifications were not turning me into a blubbering mess was actually a sign of something wrong, but presently, I found myself glad that I could think about them so dispassionately.
A few more notifications followed from when I’d grabbed the Status Resistance class skill and learned Movement Impairment Resistance.
Then, of course, there was the singular notification that repeated, over and over and over again.
You have killed Warram’Goss!
You have killed Warram’Goss!
…
You have killed Warram’Goss!
Even feeling far more emotionally shallow now, I couldn’t help but nod as I read through the dozens of them.
I’m glad you’re dead, Warram. Truly.
And as if to compensate me for everything he’d done, he’d left a present behind as well.
You have slain an Antagonist!
You already have the Mark of the Antagonist. For killing another Antagonist, your mark has leveled, and you have gained the previous level’s bonus effect.
Bonus: +5% of all experience earned by the slain Antagonist, +1 to their highest stat
Unsurprisingly, that stat turned out to be Charisma. As for the experience, it was a sizable chunk, but not life-changing, nowhere near enough to push me to the next level.
Your mark has reached a new level: Mark of the Antagonist II
+100 Prestige
+1 Average Boon
Note: As you have received this boon from a one-mark Antagonist, the quality of your boon may be downgraded.
Bonus on next mark level:
+5% of all experience earned by slain Antagonist, +2 to their highest stat, 1 random Antagonist-related skill
The downgrade message was as unexpected as it was vague. It still said it was an Average Boon rather than being minor, but it would be worse than normal? It sounded like it wouldn’t have happened had I killed a Protagonist or a more serious Antagonist. Perhaps perversely, that actually felt fitting to me: Even the system didn’t think Warram was worth that much.
You have been granted an Average Boon! Select now?
I confirmed, knowing well that I wouldn’t be doing any selection.
As a Protagonist chosen by a god of luck, all boons will be randomly selected.
Selecting…
Boon selected!
Minor Class Token (Peace Restrictive)
Strangely sentimental, if largely useless. I’d received a Minor Class Token from my first Average Boon, which I’d put to good use to get my class. I wasn’t entirely sure what the restriction was about, but based on the earlier messages, it sounded like a penalty of some sort.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Regardless, it wasn’t nearly as impressive as Warram’s own boon that had brought him back to life, but presumably he’d actually picked that option rather than having it randomly assigned like I had. I would have said “some people had all the luck,” but then again, I was the Protagonist of a luck god, and he was… kind of dead.
I’d slipped into my coma-like state shortly after killing him, and my notifications were intent on showing me just how how fucked up I’d been.
Trauma Suppression has received sufficient integrity damage to render it inoperable. Skill disabled.
Note: You have received permanent mental damage!
Note: You have received permanent soul damage!
You have learned a skill: Soul Resistance
Lessens all damage and negative effects to your soul.
Note: Soul Resistance is compatible with the Stygian Citadel! Integrating skill.
Additional effect: As your mind and your soul have been partially melded, resistance to one protects the other. 10% of your Soul Resistance is applied to your Mental Resistance. 10% of your Mental Resistance is applied to your Soul Resistance.
I couldn’t decide if I was supposed to be happy that I’d gained such a rare skill or sad that I needed it in the first place. Still, I was a big fan of resistance skills, especially with how my own class skills strengthened them.
As to be expected, there weren’t many notable notifications for a while after that. At least not personal ones.
Your settlement has survived a battle!
A long list of casualties and damage reports followed which I quickly dismissed, along with a small reward of settlement points and Prestige. That was another matter I knew I had to reflect on given how much of the blame fell squarely on me, but much like most of the other serious matters, I could feel it all sliding off of me. At the very least, if I ever got out of here, I had a host of apologies to give.
The notifications largely stopped after that, or at least they had until we’d met the grand magus. One set in particular was helpful if a bit… concerning.
You have attempted to analyze a counterspelled spell diagram significantly past your skill level.
You have taken mental damage.
You are bleeding!
Spell Insight has reached level 10!
Spell Insight has reached level 11!
Spell Insight has reached level 12!
The augment I ended up getting for the skill was sadly worthless, only helping me better decipher Initiate rank spells. Considering my God’s Mind-granted Understanding ability already seemed to do that, the augment was wasted on me. The levels were nice, at least, and while the mental damage was concerning, the very next notification allayed some of my worries on that front.
Your mental damage has been partially healed!
Your soul damage has been partially healed!
All mental and soul skills have been redirected into maintaining the integrity of your mind and soul. Mental Resistance, Mental Magic, and Soul Resistance greatly reduced until fully healed. Increases to these skills may yield faster recovery times.
It was much as I’d already discovered, although it was nice to have it spelled out for me.
Ultimately, that was all that I’d expected from my notifications, and then some. It thus came as somewhat of a surprise when there was still one more set of notifications left.
You have learned a new spell: Blip.
Blip
Teleports a small object a short distance.
You have learned a new skill: Spatial Magic.
Class Quest Completed: Learn a new advanced school of magic (Repeatable)
+5000xp
+2 class points
Evidently, the grand magus was giving us the option to escape on our own if I could ever raise the skill high enough. How high would it need to go? Forty? Fifty? Given that I’d yet to hit level 30 in any of my spell classes, reaching level forty would likely be a matter of years at the very least.
And that was it. The most painful and harrowing week of my life, condensed down into a few pages of bolded text and numbers. I thought perhaps I should have been feeling angry, but no such anger came.
In fact, more than anything else, I just felt tired.
Or that wasn’t quite right. I wasn’t drowsy or about to fall asleep. I suppose “drained” might be more accurate. I’d mustered up the energy to wake up and talk to the others, but already, it was as if I’d run a marathon on atrophied legs. I could feel my mind preemptively rebelling against the idea of doing anything more, especially if that anything involved socializing. All it wanted to do was sit there.
I considered fighting that urge, but… why should I?
For all that getting stranded in a pocket dimension sounded like a bad deal, it wasn’t like I had class the next day. I didn’t need to meet with Amak or talk about Emer’Thalis. No Antagonists were on their way to kill me.
Aside from maybe worrying Cal and Verin, if I just sat here for a year, would anything bad happen? I tried to think of something -- anything -- that truly, urgently required my presence, only to come up blank.
I was fairly sure that should have hurt me in some way, but if anything, it was the one truly comforting thought I’d had in a while. Lacking any reason to keep pushing myself, I gave in to my slothful urges.
Just a little break after all that. Just a tiny…
Bit by bit, my stream of consciousness thickened, until it slowly oozed through my mind like treacle. My senses, normally heightened by my Perception, followed suit, reeling themselves inwards.
Thus prepared, I sat there and did exactly what I’d planned to do.
Absolutely nothing.
----------------------------------------
The next few days came and went in a blur.
Distantly, I was aware as Cal and Verin spoke to one another, though none of their words ever registered. It was a rare occurrence in any case, as Cal seemed to be absent most of the time. On the flip side, Verin never left, but she was always practicing her frost magic.
Through it all, I simply sat there, having slipped into a heavy torpor.
Even after telling the others I needed some time, Verin tried to get me to move on three separate occasions. I couldn’t quite recall what she’d said -- something about coming to dinner, maybe -- but each time, I managed to mumble something that got her to leave me alone.
Whenever the two of them cooked, they would bring me a bit of meat on some leaves, the same meal I’d woken up to. Each time, it was just as badly burnt and raw, and each time, I mechanically shoved it all down.
Though different in many ways, the dungeon we were in was passively illuminated like all the rest. Without any sun or moon above us, night never came, nor did our environment ever seriously darken. I slept when my body allowed it and woke when my body could sleep no more.
It was simple. Easy. I could easily see myself staying like this for a few more weeks, if not longer. And wasn’t my aging slowed? What was the real harm in losing a bit of time here or there?
Inactive as I was, it came as something of a shock when I eventually received a pair of new notifications. A dash of energy suffused me, pushing me to actually check what they said rather than ignore them.
Mental Resistance has reached level 13!
Soul Resistance has reached level 2!
They were… strange. Was I under some kind of attack that was leveling them? That felt unlikely.
Did that mean they just leveled passively now? As far as I knew, it wasn’t impossible. Theoretically, I was using both of them every passing moment just to keep myself together.
Interesting, but in the end, nothing life changing. My mind started to slow once more.
Before it could fully freeze again, though, I held it off.
I liked getting skill levels. They were nice. Made me feel good about myself. Maybe I could train a few more?
I expended a bit of effort to run through my skills, searching for any that I’d be willing to train, only to realize that most of them required far more effort to level than I was willing to put in right now. The only possible exceptions might be my armor skills, although I wasn’t sure if I gained any experience from just sitting around.
Still, it couldn’t hurt. I summoned up my plate armor, one of the few things I could do with a mere thought. For whatever reason, the armor seemed to wake me up a bit. I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about that, but for now, I kept it on.
And then continued to sit. It was some very rigorous training I was doing.
Cal eventually served me my next meal, my armor earning a raised brow but otherwise no comment. I bit into the meat as she left, only to pause as the rabbit touched my tongue.
This is… bad.
Of course, I’d known that already, hadn’t I? But for whatever reason, it hadn’t really hit me in the same way.
And if mine is bad, then probably… I shifted my gaze over to where Cal and Verin sat, watching them eat the same meal around a dim fire, the first ignoring her food entirely, the second, taking pained nibbles at only the burnt sections.
I considered turning away, but it was too late now. The sight had triggered thoughts which soon led to more thoughts, pushing up against one another until my mind was forced to start up again.
They can’t cook.
Of course they couldn’t. Why would a princess or a noble know how to?
I can cook.
I’d taken an entire course on cooking.
Those two thoughts rubbed against one another for a while, forming sparks until at last they lit a fire beneath me. If perhaps a bit laboriously, I found myself rising for the first time in days, advancing towards the others with plodding steps.
Noticing my approach, they called out to me, but my mind wasn’t fully back on yet. Maybe in another day or two of rebooting. Ignoring them, I honed in on the sloppily butchered cuts of rabbit laid out next to Cal, sitting on a bed of leaves. I grabbed one of the cuts and a few leaves, placing the meat before me.
Pan. No. Pot. No. Spit. No. Not seeing any reasonable way to cook the meat, I made one of my own, snatching a few of the thinner branches from the fire and summoning up my knife. Woodworking made quick work of the wood, and I was left with a small number of sharpened skewers. After cutting the rabbit into more uniform pieces, I loaded the skewers up.
There was no convenient way to place them over the fire, but I didn’t need one. Supplying a bit of fire mana to my Gloves of the Arcanist class skill, Hot-plate Hands activated. Amongst other things, the skill protected my hands from any burns while cooking, and placing it to the test, I held the skewers directly above the flames.
Cal and Verin seemed alarmed by this development, bombarding me with more words that I chose to tune out. When they realized my hands weren’t frying to a crisp, they eventually calmed down.
With Hot-plate Hands giving me an innate sense of temperature, I was able to hold each skewer at the exact right height to perfectly cook them. Not at all minding the boring repetitive nature of the task, I rotated each skewer slowly, evenly applying heat from every angle.
With little fanfare, they eventually finished cooking.
Cooking has reached level 12!
I passed out the fruits of my labor, and new sounds soon followed, far happier than the previous ones. I didn’t respond, but thankfully, neither Cal nor Verin forced me to.
Of course, it wasn’t the best meal any of us had eaten. Far from it. I was fairly sure I wasn’t the best company, either.
Even so, I was pretty certain that I liked cooking for my friends, didn’t I? It was… nice, maybe. The three of us slipped into a companionable silence, and for once, I didn’t feel any of my energy draining away.
We continued to eat until the entire rabbit was gone, and when at last we’d had our fill, I felt a bit warmer than I had before.