Kaius squatted for what felt like the thousandth time in front of the low heat of the hearth. Tightly held to his chest was a stray flagstone from the crumbling wall outside, large enough that its weight dug uncomfortably into his arms.
Reaching the bottom of his descent, he felt his quads stretch with a deep burn that brought a grimace to his face. Another drop of sweat from his face baptised the stone, its surface turning ever more slick. Forcing him to hold the rock tighter, and aggravating his already exhausted arms.
Pushing himself upwards he felt himself hit a wall, shaking as what felt like the weight of a giant pushed down on his trembling legs. Individual muscle fibres began to ping, his lower body consumed by a bone deep agony.
A low roar left his throat. Kaius pushed, driving his heels into the ground. Scraping the bottom of the barrel.
Finger-length by finger-length, his quaking figure rose.
He had been at this for hours now, his Stamina long since drained. Without fail, he would hit the wall, and without fail, he would push a little further. Quickly he would reach his limit and collapse. A few moments spent bonelessly on the floor, giving liquid muscles a moment's respite, and he would rise again to switch to a new grouping.
Kaius squatted again, thick veins bulging in his neck.
Again. Here he got stuck, straining upwards. A loud crack emanating from the back of his jaw. The pain of his broken tooth cutting through his exhausted fugue. Quickly taken over by the burning itch of regeneration. Still he strained upwards.
Again.
Again.
Again. His legs refused, one shaking knee buckling inwards as his legs totally gave out. His mind blanked, his narrow cone of vision and the ringing in his ears subsuming all of senses for just a moment. The stone slipped from his limp hands.
The jarring impact of hitting the cold stone floor brought him back. As did the crunching sensation and blaring pain as the rock landed squarely on his right foot.
“Fuck!” Kaius swore. Pushing himself upright as fast as possible to roll the stone off.
**Ding! Strength has reached level 20!*
**Ding! Physical Conditioning has reached level 15!**
Physical Conditioning:
Level 15
Uncommon
The thumping of a heart that outruns a predator. Blood fueling muscles that burn with the savage delight of the hunt. Lungs that bellow, gaseous transfusion bringing necessary vitality. Life. It lives and dies on the basis of exertion.
Each level slightly increases peak physical fitness. Each level slightly decreases the deleterious effects of exertion
Even clutching his stinging foot Kaius couldn't help but let out a loud laugh
He had done it. The unthinkable. Two levels in the same skill and a stat point in the same day.
His breath still heaving, Kaius grabbed his water skin and drained it to the last with great, greedy gulps. The cool water, faintly tasting of must and leather, soothing his parched throat. Once it was done, he shook the neck of the skin over his face, encouraging the last few stray drips free.
With an unsatisfied sigh he threw the skin to the side. It landed with a dull thwack.
“Well, now that that's done I guess it’s time to find a water source.”
He winced as he shifted his leg, wounded foot and thrashed muscles complaining loudly.
“Maybe once I've recovered.” Kaius then eyed the slowly smoking hearth, and the nearly complete batch of jerky hanging above it. “And maybe once I've tended to the fire and put on some more meat. Wouldn't want to risk it going bad after all.”
He flopped onto his back, the cold support of the stone ground feeling like a prized feathered mattress to his overworked body.
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**Ding! Physical Conditioning has reached level 20!**
Kaius lay on the floor, his naked chest heaving. Each ragged gasp he made scraped uncomfortably against his bone dry throat.
Two days.
Two bloody minded, gruelling days.
He’d worked himself until he puked, and then he’d picked himself up to do it all over again. Every type of exercise he could manage with his body and a few torturously heavy stones, switching things up to avoid monotony.
A supernatural effort. The human body simply wasn't designed to push itself to true exhaustion even once, let alone consistently and repetitively. Sure, with the regenerative properties of Health and Stamina it was possible, but the mental strain alone to push through the pain and fatigue was a demon in its own right.
Kaius was sure that without Rapid Adaptation and the resistance to pain that it brought, he would have had no chance. Certainly, the pain had been enough to push that skill up a level as well.
Even then, even with his herculean effort, it should have been impossible.
Kaius frowned.
“People just don't gain five levels in one skill, and one in another, in two days. I’ve pushed myself to the brink for years, and it still would have been tight to keep the pace of a skill level a day that I need to fully cap myself before class selection. Father mentioned that classes increase skill levelling speed … somehow, but I dont have one. It can't be the combat multiplier either.” He thought.
It was a conundrum. A question with an answer he had no way of discovering.
Kaius sat up, reaching for one of his spare shirts to mop the sweat off his face and body. In the end it didn’t really matter. Whatever the cause of his increased growth, it was something that could only be beneficial for him. Besides, if this was something that happened across the Depths as a whole it would be something that was widely known. Especially amongst the large community of risk takers that plumbed its expanse.
Whatever it was, his father must have kept it from him for a reason.
Honestly, it wasn't even too hard to guess at. If it was a Depths-wide effect, which he couldn't be sure of, he completely understood why the information was withheld from him. He would even understand if it was some greater taboo to share with people before they had a class.
He had been …. Brash at times. When he was younger. The process of planning a full stack of general skills, acquiring them, and then levelling both them and your stats was an incredibly gruelling process in the five years between matriculation and class selection.
In many ways it was far worse for those with legacy skills, and according to his father most people with means had at least some access to an incredibly limited selection that were more widely known. He himself would be making use of a few of those.
The fact he had a complete set of legacy skills was incredibly lucky. Not just because of the sheer bloody rarity and power of it, but because as a full build it was an incredibly wide and flexible base. Not so specialised he was locked in to anything, and not so disparate that he felt like he had a single tool from ten different professions.
It meant his path to classing up was relatively laid out, and he really only had to think about his final skill and the spell casting experimentation he would have to do later.
Even with all that, and a consummate prodigy of a father as a round the clock trainer, he had often felt like he was floundering when he was younger. That he wouldn't make it in time.
If he’d known that he could accelerate it all, even if it meant he would be in immense danger? He couldn't lie and pretend he wouldn't have been tempted.
“And what if I was a poor peasant boy with grandiose dreams? Pressured by my father to take the skills needed to have a stable life, taking over the farm. Surrounded by monotony when all I really wanted was to live the life of those I heard in the solstice bard songs? Yeah I can see why this would be kept secret, overconfident young men and women would inadvertently kill themselves in droves.” He thought.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Kaius pulled himself up, lurching with a wry smile as his overworked legs made their protest known by buckling slightly at the knee. Groaning in discomfort, he forced himself through a series of gentle stretches. He knew that recovering his stamina would fully do away with his state of weakness, but as an unclassed his regeneration was painfully slow. He may as well make himself a little more comfortable while he waited.
After that he would set off. He was overdue for a full scouting of the glade . With luck he might find himself some more undead. Sense Weakness was getting close to its cap, after all.
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Kaius moved through the trees with a surety and confidence borne from a lifetime in the forest. His senses were fully in tune with the environment around him as an unexplainable breeze rustled through the canopy overhead. Without conscious thought he tuned the noise out, vigilant for any sign of beast or undead.
In some ways it was far easier to do so than it had been in his forest home. While this was the Depths, and the sheer density of powerful creatures with system access was far higher, he had yet to see any signs of life or unlife that didn't fit into that category. Excluding the flora around him of course.
It meant all he had to look for were any signs of life or movement. No need to categorise if that flash of movement was a startled deer or a greater meles, a King of the Forest, coming to tear him limb from limb.
If it moved at all, it wanted to kill him. Nice and simple.
Keeping an eye out for something moving in a forest? Interpreting tracks and other signs of something passing? That was something he was very very good at. It was how he ate.
He’d been making his circuitous route through the glade for a few hours now, intent on building as thorough of a mental map as he could. Already he had found a few fruit bearing trees, Herbalism yanking at his attention. Strange purple globular things, with a thick rind covering lighter reddish flesh. They didn’t reek of magic, so they weren't reagents. Still, he’d grabbed a couple, stashing them away to test for toxicity when he grew tired enough to rest.
Travelling light, all nonessentials had been left at his base camp. Currently his pack contained a thin blanket, some basic medical supplies, and enough food and water to last him three days. He’d been lucky to find a stream when he’d taken a break from training Physical Conditioning, and had been making intermittent trips.
While Kaius doubted it would take him that long to scout the glade, it was always better to be prepared than to be caught lacking.
Beasts had already forced him to vary his path more than once. He had a different type of quarry in mind. Though he had taken the chance to observe and train Sense Weakness when he could do so safely.
Currently he was on the trail of what he assumed to be some more undead. He doubted there would be anything else in these trees that were wearing boots. From the tracks he knew it was a group, however their lacking intelligence meant that they moved without any semblance of formation. It made it hard to tell their exact numbers, what with the way they stumbled around and crossed lines every few strides.
At the very least it made following them easy. The path of disturbed dirt may as well have been a paved road for how blindingly obvious it was to him.
Picking up his pace, Kaius refused to let his focus slip. Each step he took was measured, if fast from a lifetime of practice. With ease he stepped over and around dry brittle leaves and loose twigs, minimising the noise from his passing.
He was unsure exactly what sort of senses the undead had, whether they mirrored that of a living man or if it was something of a more arcane nature. Either way, he wasn't going to allow himself to get sloppy on the mere chance that he might be wasting the tiniest modicum of effort.
A short while later and he caught up to them.
He heard them before he saw them. Heavy foot falls crashing through the undergrowth in a clumsy staccato. The sound of it sent his heart rate thumping in his chest, a savage tension surging through him as his jaw tensed in anticipation.
Quietly as he could he swung his pack off, nestling it safely at the base of a tree. He drew his sword silently.
His approach slowed as he started to move from tree to tree, eyes locked on the point from which he could hear the moving undead. Tree by tree, step by step, the sounds began to grow louder.
As he drew close the tension that weighed on him began to morph, changing into a savage anticipation of the clashing of blades, rent flesh, and a battle well fought. Kaius felt his face go hot, a flush rising as blood roared through his veins. He could almost hear it.
His father called it the Bloodsong. Said it was common amongst those who delved the Depths. Said you had to be a certain kind of mad to enjoy throwing yourself into death hour after hour, day after day. And you did have to enjoy it. Those who didn't quit. Or died.
Only a few weeks prior he didn't understand. Even a few days ago, his brush with death as he cleared the church had terrified him. That had faded. Oh, he was still scared. Only a fool didn't fear death. Fear kept you sharp. Now though, it was paired with excitement. No where else would he see the kinds of gains he had seen.
Being trapped down here was a blessing. It might have been a blessing covered in thorns, but it was a blessing all the same.
Peering out from behind a bush he was crouched behind, Kaius saw them.
Five undead, in a distant and messy formation.
The leading two looked to be carrying heavy boar spears, while of the ones trailing further behind two were carrying hunting knives closer in size to daggers. The final undead that was lingering at the centre of their rough formation held what looked to be a timber axe.
All, barring minor differences, were garbed in what amounted to simple clothing with a heavy leather vest. Kaius smiled at the sight of that, ratty leather would do little to stop his honed blade from cleaving through them.
Still, flimsy armour and poor quality hunting instruments or no, the undead were still a threat. They were ungainly, but he knew from his previous fight that they were front loaded with Strength. A good blow could easily shatter an arm, leaving him at a severe disadvantage at best.
He would have to leverage speed and flexibility to outmanoeuvre them, especially since this time there wouldn’t be a convenient natural choke point. Though, he should be able to use some of the dense underbrush to hamper them, but it would affect him too with the length of his sword.
Taking out the knife-wielders as fast as possible should minimise their advantage on that front though.
Kaius set his eyes on the rearmost undead, one of his first targets, still brainlessly wandering forwards. Taking a sharp breath to steady any lingering nerves, he ignored the way his tongue stuck to the roof of his bone dry mouth. Choosing instead to lean into the Bloodsong that bubbled away beneath the surface.
With silent steps Kaius moved past the bush he had been hiding behind, his pace accelerating as fast as he could still remain silent. He brought his sword up into an inside guard, pommel pulled into his armpit as he pointed it directly towards the walking corpse he had set his eyes on.
The ground flew beneath him, Kaius quickly closing the gap. Soon he could make out the thin, limp, hair that dotted the undead's withered scalp. With each step it let out a dry rasping gasp. Forced to make a mockery of even the most basic of life's functions.
Somehow, some way, it sensed him, tensing once he was within a few scant long-strides of its back. It stopped. Beginning to turn as it let out a rattling gasp. A facsimile of a mind knowing that it should call out to its compatriots, but its expired flesh was unable to act on the half remembered instincts.
The other undead continued on, unnoticing.
It made an about face, Kaius locking gaze with its glassy and soulless eyes. It was too slow to do anything other than that. From his inside guard Kaius’s sword spun over his head, pivoting his lower body with the motion as he brought his sword down into an overhead swing.
Magically honed steel cleaved through its brittle skull with a subtle crunch. Black blood and stinking grey matter coated his blade.
**Ding! level 13 Undead Huntsman slain**
He pulled his sword free, lurching into another run as he advanced on the next undead that held a knife. It was less than ten long-strides away, the gap closing fast.
Behind him the slain body of the first undead hit the ground with the sharp crack of a splintering twig. Kaius winced at the sound. Almost as one the remaining group stopped dead, slowly turning to investigate the sound.
The remaining knife-wielder saw him, a soft rattle of a war cry leaving its shrunken lips. It stepped towards him with its hunting knife held high. Kaius didn't stop.
It swung. He planted one foot solidly into the loamy soil, bringing himself up short. A sharp jolt of force shot up his leg, but the slight pain was quickly forgotten as the undead's blade sailed past his chest in a narrow miss.
The failed swing left it wide open. Kaius didn't hesitate. He speared it through the nose, a cold spray of jellified fluid catching him in the face.
**Ding! level 13 Undead Huntsman slain**
The heat of battle washed over him, a manic grin growing on his face as blood boiled in his veins. Spinning on his lead foot, Kaius pivoted to face the rest of the undead.
Slack jawed and expressionless, they had wasted no time thinking on the death of their allies. No moments of panic or shock slowed their responses. They simply advanced on him, led by the one wielding an axe.
Kaius flicked his sword, rotten brain matter splattering on to a stray pile of leaf litter.
The two undead holding boar spears had their points levelled at his chest, slowly advancing. The axe-wielder had no such compunctions, working itself up into a stiff legged run. Kaius settled into his stance, happy to let the undead build some distance from its allies.
It reached him with the fury of a runaway bull, swinging its axe in a savage horizontal swipe.
Kaius simply stepped back, letting the axe sail past him harmlessly.
The momentum of the blow briefly pulled the undead off balance, before it righted itself and quickly lashed out with an overhead. Kaius parried the blow, a flick of his sword pulling the axe of centre. A swift riposte cut a furrow through its chest.
They were so clumsy.
Kaius struck for the head, eager to finish the fight quickly. The undead just barely managed to bring its axe up to block, its infernal might stopping his blow cold. Shoving back against his guard it broke the bind, shifting its hands to bring its axe down in a short chop.
Openings screamed to him. Strength and a certain awkward speed it might have, but without control, without technique, it was useless.
With a flick of his wrists Kaius brought his blade back around, binding the axe once more. A slight turn of the blade and a forward push, and he slipped through the undead's guard.
Impaling its head on his blade.
**Ding! level 14 Undead Logger slain**
**Ding! Sense Weakness has reached level 18!**
The corpse dropped like a puppet with its string cut. Kaius’s chest rose with each deep inhale, the exertion of battle impossible to avoid. Still, the burn in his muscles felt good. Seeing the undead lie inanimate once more, shattered and broken, felt good. Knowing that each one he put down was another step closer to his goals made his blood sing.
He understood it now. The Bloodsong. How it could drive people to such maddening heights.
He levelled his gaze on the final two undead, still slowly approaching with their boar spears levelled.
Only two left.