“No,” Aerion said emphatically, backing away.
We’d retreated from the edge of the goblin camp, and I was currently arguing with Aerion about something stupid.
“Look, I get your culture’s different from mine, but I swear I'll respect your privacy. I’ll even turn around. You take off your robe and set it down. I’ll enchant it, put it back, and walk away, all without looking.”
“Absolutely not,” Aerion said, his ears going red. “I’ll not debase myself like this in front of you!”
This was getting us nowhere.
“Fine,” I said, giving up. “I suppose I could try Initializing it while you’re wearing it, but don’t blame me if it doesn’t work. Never done that before.”
There wasn’t any reason it shouldn’t work, but I was worried the System wouldn’t let me Initialize items equipped on another person. I guess I was about to find out.
As for why I was Initializing his gear before my own, the reason was twofold. Right now, Aerion was far more fragile than I was. He was light on his feet, yes, but lacked the armor I had. I also hit harder with my weapons and was overall bigger in stature. Our party would benefit greatly if he was a bit stronger and sturdier. The confidence boost it'd give him certainly wouldn't hurt, either.
“Does… does it hurt?” Aerion asked, flinching as I placed my hand on his bony shoulder.
“Uh, I don’t think so?” I said. “It shouldn’t…”
“O-okay,” he said.
Strange. Traumatic past? Or something else? Maybe elves didn’t have high pain tolerance…
Initialize [Elven Commoner Robe]? 99% chance to successfully Initialize [Common] armor. Essence Cost: 9.
“Initialize,” I muttered.
Nothing happened for a second, then a blue box popped up, but it was empty. Like the System was mulling over what to do.
Then it populated.
Elven Commoner Robe [Common]
An old robe, but well made, as with all things elven. Too small for you.
Essence Cost: 9
Condition: 70/70
Stats:
— Grace + 2
— Passion + 1
— Cunning + 1
Abilities: None
“W-what is this!?” Aerion yelped, hopping away, dagger in hand.
The tattered robe I’d dismissed as a cheap, ragged thing had transformed. Like when I’d enchanted my sword and armor, but quite a bit nicer. The tarnished gray restored itself to a pretty off-white, and its gold fabric trim glittered under the light of the nearby sconces.
“What did you do!?”
“Well, looks like it worked.” It wasn’t the physical transformation that surprised me, though.
“Aerion?” I asked. “What’s up with this robe?”
Aerion stared down at the piece of clothing. He looked just as surprised as I was.
“It’s just a normal old robe. I left the good one stashed on the surface. It’s never been this… nice.”
“Well, being pretty isn’t the only thing that robe has going for it,” I said. “Do you feel any different wearing that? Like, any lighter on your feet?”
Aerion hopped from one foot to another and jumped gracefully in the air—although not any more gracefully than normal.
“Not especially?” he said, tilting his head. “Should I?”
“Why don’t you try jumping around for a while,” I said. “It might help.”
If I was right that hiking leveled Vigor, then it stood to reason acrobatics did the same for Grace. If Cunning was related to sneakiness, then perhaps moving stealthily would help. Or it could be related to subterfuge and deception. Maybe doing well at the casino would help. As for Passion, I wasn't as sure. Flirting? It sounded far-fetched, but who could say?
Then again, maybe Aerion needed a Blessing for those stats to apply at all.
“I’m glad it worked out,” I said, smiling thinly. I was honestly jealous. How was it fair that the one thing I enchanted that wasn’t mine got to be amazing? Well, I had to admit, it wouldn’t have done me much good. I was about as graceful as a penguin on land. I’d take Vigor or Dominion any day.
Sighing, I looked at Aerion’s crappy dagger. “Alright, let’s see your weapon, next.”
I’d already considered Initializing him something with a bit more heft, like the Obsidian Club I had, but Aerion was not only small framed, he was also used to the dagger. Kitting him up with a large Obsidian club made little sense. Besides, the tiny shards these goblins broke into when killed were nowhere near large enough to make something that big.
Iron Dagger [Common]
An ordinary iron dagger, the likes of which you’ll find anywhere. Decently made, though.
Condition: 25/25
Essence Cost: 4
Stats: None
Abilities:
— Quick slash (Foundation - 0): Slightly accelerates blade when swung, dealing more damage and allowing for faster strikes.
“Not bad,” I muttered.
“Why? What’s it do?” Aerion asked, looking over the now slightly shinier dagger intently.
“It’ll make your strikes a bit faster. Why don’t you try it out?”
Aerion took a few swings, then nodded. “The difference is slight, yet noticeable. I am unsure if it will help in combat, however.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” I said. “The more you use it, the better it’ll get.”
Aerion’s eyes opened wide. “Truly, what a special Blessing you possess,” he muttered, and I thought I caught a trace of envy in the way he looked at me.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“You don’t have anything else you’re wearing you'd be comfortable with me enchanting, do you?” I asked, choosing to change the topic.
Aerion shook his head.
“Suit yourself,” I said, shrugging. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna enchant my own clothes.”
Now that I had a handle on how the stat system worked, I felt a lot less nervous about enchanting my other clothes. If they gave me as much as the shirt did…
Before that, though, I did a quick check of my reserves. Only an idiot would leave no buffer for emergencies, everyone knew that. It was just a question of how much to leave in reserve. I felt iffy going below 25%, but then again, stat boosts—or really any ability—would boost our odds quite a bit, given how squishy we both were.
I figured 15% was the lowest I’d go. Good for one, maybe two emergency Initializations. And while I didn’t have a good way of guessing how much something would cost, it was safe to say my jeans and shoes would be 10%, based on how much the other stuff had cost me.
I was currently at 43, so I had some room left.
Otherworld Jeans [Common]
Cheap denim! But you still shouldn’t show it to anyone in this world. One world’s garbage is another world’s treasure!
Condition: 10/10
Essence Cost: 6
Stats:
— Vigor + 2
Abilities: None
“Fuck yes!” I pumped a fist, causing Aerion to startle. “Sorry,” I said, touching my sneakers.
Warning: Essence at 49/60. Essence Utilization over 75%.
“Welp, I guess the boxers and shoes will have to wait for another day.”
Initializing anything else would put me over 85% utilization. As for why I initialized Aerion’s stuff first, it was because he honestly needed the help more than I did. Both in defense and offense.
“Are… you alright? Up there, I mean…” Aerion asked, clutching his robe, and giving me a look that very much implied I was not alright.
“Peachy. Just that, uh… I won’t be able to enchant your shoes for a bit. Kinda used up my power. For now.”
Aerion nodded. “Of course. I honestly wasn’t expecting you to.”
I could now safely say that higher rarity items tended to bestow stat points. I’d also thought that every new item would give me an ability, but that seemed not to be the case. Was it because they were items from my world, or something else?
I couldn’t say, but I’d take every stat boost I could get. I pulled up my interface.
— Vigor: 7 (Max: 9)
Well, that’s about as expected.
I’d have to earn my stats—though it did make me wonder what would happen if I unequipped my gear that bestowed them. Would I suddenly feel weaker if I took off my shirt? Would I have to re-earn those lost stats the next time I put it back on?
I’d have to figure it out as I went. For now, my clothing was staying firmly on me until we escaped the dungeon. Hygiene be damned—I needed the boost.
I retrieved my bone club and cracked my neck. We had an ore cart to steal. “Let’s go bash some goblins.”
----------------------------------------
We went with a sound strategy. I’d charge in, whacking them with my club, while Aerion got into one of the waiting carts. I’d then sabotage the other carts before jumping in, making for a clean getaway.
Things… did not go as planned.
The goblins were milling around the carts, unloading what looked like glowing green ore onto the platform.
As silently as I could, I charged the nearest goblin, bringing my arming sword down on its head. I didn’t even bother with [Lightbringer] seeing how well-lit the tunnel was.
The sword clanged off, chipping the obsidian, but doing no real damage. Which, in hindsight, I should have expected. It simply wasn’t built to dish out damage against obsidian, and my technique was nonexistent. The only reason I’d used it was to try and preserve my Obsidian club’s dwindling Condition.
I wasn’t used to stakes this high. If I died in games, I’d just respawn and try again. When my life was on the line, I realized making the most calculated, efficient moves was maybe not in my best interest.
The goblin turned, confused. It was the last thing it ever did.
A single strike of my obsidian bone club shattered it where it stood, shards flying off in all directions. [Scarborne] was starting to show its fangs.
The goblins all turned, every beady eye in the cog station on me.
“Goddamn. Has anyone ever told you just how butt-fucking-ugly you are?” I said. “Well, consider yourselves informed.”
The child-sized monsters all screamed out at once, swarming me in a blind rage. Some didn’t even pause to pick up weapons. Others trampled their comrades, foaming at the mouth to be the first to get to me.
I backed away unconsciously. My distraction had worked just a little too well.
“Uh, Aerion? Hurry?”
I ran back into the tube tunnel, where the goblins’ numbers wouldn’t be as much of a help.
At least, I hoped. The small creatures could pack a lot tighter than adults could.
Muttering a curse to Cosmo, I brought my club down.
Whack. Whack. Whack. I smashed, and I ran, buying me a bit of distance. I repeated the process, falling into a rhythm.
Congratulations! [Obsidian Bone Club]’s ability [Scarborne] has leveled up to Foundation - 5.
It was incredible. With each strike, at least one goblin went down. Usually multiple, as my obsidian club cleaved through the fragile monsters.
It didn’t matter. There were too many, and each time I was getting pushed farther and farther from Aerion. The tunnel was my only route back. I had to kill all the goblins.
My hit-and-run tactics proved effective, and their numbers whittled down. From over thirty, down to twenty. Then ten. I got more notifications while I was at it.
Congratulations! [Obsidian Bone Club]’s ability [Scarborne] has leveled up to Foundation - 6.
I got this!
The adrenaline flowed through me as I flowed from one goblin to the next. My swings came effortlessly, and I felt like a fucking god.
That should’ve tipped me off. The goblins were falling a bit too easily.
By the time I realized my mistake, it was too late.
I struck again, and my luck turned. I knew from the moment my club came into contact with the goblin’s head that something was off.
The monster’s head shattered.
And so did my club.
Obsidian Bone Club [Common] has been destroyed. 5 Essence reclaimed.
“FUCK!”
The obsidian weapon disintegrated in my hands, breaking into a thousand shards like a mirror. I didn’t let go in time, and the sharp glass cut into my palms, drawing blood.
There were still six goblins left.
I didn’t think. I ran, barreling through the enraged goblins like an NFL running back gunning for a touchdown. A couple of goblins were thrown clear back, but not before their buddies managed to stick me with an obsidian spike.
“Aerion!” I hollered, forcing myself to push through the pain. My health’s color had gone from green to green-yellow with just that one attack.
“I’m ready!” the elf shouted back. “Come on!”
I dove into the cart as Aerion threw it into gear. At the same time, I received a minimized notification.
“You were supposed to disable the other carts,” he said as ours picked up speed. It was a large mining cart. Just barely enough for two people.
“Yeah, well. Plans changed,” I said, putting pressure on the puncture hole in my jeans as I tore off a sleeve of my newly Initialized shirt.
“You’re wounded!” Aerion said in panic.
“Just a flesh wound,” I said as I tied the makeshift bandage. I wasn’t even being sarcastic—neither the blood loss nor the pain was as bad as I’d feared. I’d gotten lucky. My poor club hadn’t.
I kicked myself for being so careless with it. Then again, it wasn’t like I’d had much of a choice. My sword wouldn’t have done nearly enough damage against obsidian.
I checked my notification.
Congratulations! Vigor has increased to 8.
It certainly helped offset the bad taste in my mouth from losing my club.
“I’ve never seen goblins so angry!” Aerion shouted over his shoulder. “What did you do?”
“Well, I said some stuff, but I don’t think they…” I trailed off, thinking of the marble that sat in my pocket.
I never thought the Universal Translator would work for goblins.
“Uh, Aerion? I think I made them very mad.”
“I can see that!” Aerion snapped. “They’re following! Hang on!”
The cart lurched, picking up speed. It careened down the junction, accelerating at an alarming rate.
I held on for dear life.