Another shield shatters in a burst of red mist. The painted dane growls even louder when it runs into the second layer, gnashes its teeth in fury, and disappears. I summon another coin and fill it with yet another shield, then create it a few inches back from my one remaining shield.
“Shouldn’t it have… I don’t know… brain damage by now?”
Somehow, even though it’s been happening for over an hour, I can’t get used to the thing’s sudden vicious attacks. It’s like there’s a little part of me that’s completely terrified of it, and for some reason, it’s in absolute control of me.
From how Pearl’s shaking, it looks like it’s got control of her, too.
“It must have a very strong skull. And some kind of shock absorber to keep from killing itself.” She says shakily. “Isn’t it a little strange that we’re still completely unused to it? We’re both expecting it. You’ve gone through five shields. How come every single one is just as jarring as the first time?”
“That’s what I want to know.” I sigh. “We’ve got a sip left of health potion, so we don’t have any room for trial and error. Whatever we do can’t put me in yet another near-death scenario.”
The painted dane crashes against my shield as if to give weight to my words. It doesn’t bother growling or bearing its teeth this time–it just disappears a split second after the entirety of it manifests from the mist.
Pearl hisses through her teeth and my awareness flares. “I hate being startled so much! It’s why I trained for my awareness in the first place, so why does this. Still. Keep. Scaring me?!”
My mind tries to close in around an answer. Something that I know should be obvious, but keeps slipping away like a grease-coated frog. I try to take a deep breath, but instead of having any kind of calming effect, it just makes my panic flare up.
“Whatever it is, the painted dane must be doing it.” I manage to reason. “Are your thoughts super jumbled right now? Because I can’t even hold on to one for more than a few seconds.”
“YES!” Pearl cries out in frustration. “It feels like my awareness is being tugged in every direction all at once, and it only closes in on the real threat a split second before the painted dane appears! It’s so… so… aggravating!”
I nod in agreement. “Go back in your shell for a little bit and try to cool off. My shields will keep me safe for at least a few minutes.”
She looks at me, then over her shoulder at her shell. “You promise you’ll be safe?”
“As safe as I can be.” I assure her. “I’ll be right here–throwing projectiles back the way we came to try and trigger its evolution.”
“Don’t run out of coins. Make sure you have at least ten… no, fifteen left to protect us. Killing this thing doesn’t matter if you end up with absolutely no way to keep us safe afterwards.”
I flip a coin through my knuckles and give her what I hope is a confident grin. The chattering teeth might be doing a number on my believability.
She stares at me for a second, then reluctantly retreats into her shell. “Okay, Shelby. But if you’re dead when I come back out, I’m going to cry a whole lot. And then the painted dane will probably kill me too. I don’t want to die. And I don’t want you to die. So stay alive. Super alive. The kind of alive without any wounds that could make you bleed to death.”
“Just go, worrywart.”
“Okay, okay! Please be safe!”
With that, Pearl finally completely pulls herself into her shell. The awareness doesn’t leave along with her, still a stain on the edge of my vision that alerts me to the painted dane the moment it appears. With it, I’m fast enough to get up a shield to keep myself from getting killed. But nowhere near fast enough to set one up without getting hurt. And if the painted dane starts going for my vitals instead of my legs, that ‘getting hurt’ changes to ‘getting killed’ just like that.
I wince as the awareness snaps into place the moment before the painted dane crashes into my shield. It’s just so damn persistent. I try once more to close in on that answer that should be so obvious, but it slips through my fingers like grains of sand. A few more coins than are strictly necessary fill my palms, and I pull out my Class Card to see if projectile’s description has changed at all.
Projectile
Evolution Requirement: spend 50 Worth on this spell.
Progress: 38/50
Create a whirling mass of destructive magical energy that travels forwards until it runs out of energy. If used by a spellcasting class, output cannot be changed. If cast using Worth, can only be used with coins of value 1-5.
Huh. It actually did. With info that seems actually useful, too. Must be that plus one to Mind coming in handy. Looks like if I was a spellcasting class, I’d only be able to cast one kind of projectile. But because I’m using Worth, I can vary the strength of the spell. Of course a spellcasting class has the Soul stat bolstering their spell’s power, but it can’t be that much stronger than one of these skeleton ghost quarters.
Plus, now I know exactly how to evolve my spell; the same way I evolved shield in the first place. I keep my class card up, pre-wince as the painted dane crashes into my shield yet again, and throw a projectile-infused coin down the empty tunnel. Maybe I would’ve thrown it at the painted dane if I was even slightly confident that I’d hit it, but all I can imagine is projectile destroying my shield and leaving me open to attack.
It roars down the tunnel, scraping free shards of glass as it goes. It only actually travels about fifteen feet before it dissipates, but that must be the trade-off for being so absurdly destructive. I glance over my shoulder to make sure my shields are still holding strong, then look down at my Class Card to see if the evolution requirement updates in real time.
Evolution Progress: 40/50
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
A little better than I was expecting, honestly. Looks like it takes the value of the ghost quarter after my skill doubles it, so I only have to waste five more to get that evolution. Which I might as well do right now.
Five casts later, a screen pops up with info I’ve only seen once before. Not quite exactly the same as shield’s upgrades, but the one I want is right there at the bottom.
Defensive Evolution: Consuming Projectile. Cost: 15 Worth.
Offensive Evolution: Farshot Projectile. Cost: 20 Worth.
Hybrid Evolution: Seeking Projectile. Cost: 40 Worth.
Trade Off Evolution: Coinbound Projectile. Cost: 1 Worth.
I press on ‘Coinbound Projectile’ before the system can finish its animation informing me the spell’s ready to evolve. I snap my Class Card shut just in case it needs to reset anything, then pull it open and tab over to see the description of my evolved spell.
Coinbound Projectile
Evolution Requirement: ???
Progress: ???/???
Create a whirling mass of destructive magical energy using a Worth coin as a base. Once it runs out of energy, it dissipates. Can only be used with coins of value 1-5.
There it is. The smaller description that gives me a hell of a lot more freedom to do what I want. I flinch at the crack of the painted dane smashing into my shield and force myself not to turn around to look at it. It’s going to be dead meat soon, but I need to make sure I don’t accidentally scare it off before I can get a sucker punch in. Since there’s no way I can beat it in a fair fight.
I take one coin in my right hand and envision a projectile appearing a few feet away from me–just enough that I’m out of its radius. For this one I imagine that it’s stuck in place like one of my earlier barriers, and since it doesn’t have to move, it’s… well… I don’t really know if that makes it stronger or weaker. That uncertainty travels into my coin, and I curse as I feel it tremble in my hand.
Awareness coats my arm in liquid black. A trail explodes out to a spot on the ground more than a dozen feet away. Pain lances up my arm as the coin starts to expand, ripping at the sensitive skin on my palm. I grit my teeth, narrow my eyes, and chuck the coin as far as I physically can.
It skitters to a stop moments before detonation. A massive ball of destruction devours the glass in a ten foot radius for all of three seconds, with tendrils that whip out to take huge gouges out of anything that dared to exist close to it. The coin stays at the epicenter for the entirety of the duration.
Unlike shield, it looks like projectile is always linked to the coin. No–projectile emerges from the coin. That’s a subtle difference, but it feels extremely important for some reason. If my heart wasn’t already going at a mile a minute, that would’ve definitely gotten my blood pumping. As it stands, I barely register the painted dane going for another try. The first layer of shield’s almost broken, but I’ve still got a second one ready to protect me.
“So I’ve got more control over it, sure, but I can’t just project projectiles wherever I want. A coin has to be there first.” I take another empowered skeleton and carefully lean over the gaping hole, then let it slide gently down to the bottom. “Now let’s see how close I actually need to be to cast a spell.”
I jog back to the shield, rest my hand on it, and close my eyes. I concentrate as hard as I physically can, trying to get a projectile into that coin by the way of willpower alone. The painted dane crashes into the shield. My concentration falters so hard it almost twists its ankle. But it doesn’t matter. There’s not a single spark of a connection there.
Not like when I first saved myself from the painted dane with a shield. So… maybe shield’s just a longer-range spell than projectile. When it comes to casting, I mean. It just… feels like I’m missing something. Something pretty damn important. Something that might have to do with what I’m trying to put a projectile in instead of projectile itself.
I take out one of my very few remaining glass lones and risemutate it into two regular ghost quarters. I flip both of them, stick the one I’m not using in my pocket, and fill the other with projectile. I imagine this one as an extremely small projectile that’s quick and deadly, but everything else is put into longevity. Then I flick it as far as possible into the tunnel.
The connection to the spell doesn’t falter. If anything, it’s still just as strong as when it was in my hand. Even though I know it’s completely unnecessary, I point my finger at it and make a shooting motion.
The coin springs up from the ground, bursts into a projectile, and flies down the tunnel with an ear-piercing shriek. I blink in surprise and watch it fly, following the trail of whirling energy for… eighteen seconds, when it finally dies out.
“Definitely works at a distance. Just not the ‘put a spell into the coin’ part.” I chuckle to myself.
It even jumped up to the height I imagined before it took off. That’s one useful spell. But… it kind of makes everything a little paradoxical. Having more controllable projectiles means they’re more useful with the regular ghost quarters, and as long as I have Pearl’s awareness, I can easily use the skeletons for reflexive shields. Or proactive shields.
The first shield shatters, and the painted dane slams into my second. It lets out a groan of frustration and annoyance, but disappears before I can turn around. Only wisps of cherry red indicate it was ever there in the first place. Floating in place between my remaining shield and where the other one had been a second ago.
…That gives me an idea. As long as everything is what it looks like, I might have a good way to get rid of this thing. I grab two skeletal coins, set one next to the remaining shield, and the other around six feet away from it. Then I transform another glass lone into two regular ghost quarters, fill those with projectiles, and set them down between the two skeletal coins.
And that’s it. I step back and admire my handiwork, hope that everything’ll go smoothly, and force a tunnel-sealing shield into the skeleton closest to me. Now all that’s left to do is wait–both for Pearl and the painted dane to break the first shield.
I don’t have to wait long for Pearl. Only two or three more attempts by the painted dane go by before she comes out of her shell looking seriously rested and rejuvenated. For all of ten seconds. Then she’s full of panic and adrenaline just like me.
“I had something in there. I know I did. But now it’s just… gone.” She complains as she looks over my handiwork, then turns to see the crater. “Holy moly, what did you do to the floor? That’s at least twice as much destruction compared to what you did to the sand mound! And why’s there a skeleton coin still at the bottom of it?”
“Whoops, forgot about that one.” I chuckle and look over my shoulder. “Too much trouble to get it, though. It’ll just have to be the backup in case this doesn’t work.”
“So what’s the plan? Do I have any part in it?”
“Aside from your awareness thing, no. Honestly, it’s pretty simple–wait for the dog to break one shield, create another behind it with that coin right there,” I point to the skeletal coin, “then let those other two let loose with projectiles that should kill it. As long as they don’t break the shields before the painted dane dies, we’ll be fine.”
Pearl gulps. “And if it doesn’t?”
I shrug. “I’ve got a regular ghost quarter in my pocket and a bunch of skeletons ready to withdraw at any second. Worst comes to worst, I’ll make a mobile shield around us and we can make a run for it.”
“To where?” Pearl gestures at the nothing around us. “I can’t sense anything for a few miles, so we’d just be running until your supply of coins runs out. No–we need to kill this monster, you need to rest, and then we can safely make out way to wherever this tunnel ends.”
“If you have any better ideas, I’m all ears.”
She nods slowly as the aura around her turns deadly serious.
“You need to overdraw your Worth.”