Ilya watched the demon fall with wide eyes. It roared in fury and scratched at the stone, beating its mangled wings uselessly until a huge crash made Ilya jump. Then nothing.
[Hidden Objective completed: Assist Blake Nimitz to destroy your captor. Reward: The line of Vori becomes a Highborn bloodline.]
[Title gained: Tower Highborn. +2 to all statistics. Improved resistance and power potence against all demons. This is a lineage title.]
Ilya dropped to her knees and stared at the Gods' message, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. To be considered Highborn amongst her people was to be a part of the ruling caste. It meant living in the high towers with the elite. It meant prestige and comfort and all the best her people had to offer.
The tower lords themselves would seek her as a mate for no other reason. That she was now an Oracle as well...she would be the matriarch of a great clan. The tower lords would cast aside their first mates just to claim her. Or, she thought with some horror, King Gromsh would take her himself.
But she blinked this away and focused her eyes on Blake, who had fallen and collapsed completely on the stone. Shielding him with Protection and using Fortify Body had taken much of her mana, but she had enough for Healing Wind.
She closed her eyes and focused, unable to see his injuries and so letting the spell wash over his whole body. Just as she finished, the cage clanged and shook and despite the message from the gods Ilya seized the bars in terror, thinking the demon had somehow risen.
Instead she found two of Blake's...living statues...ripping apart the iron bars. They tore a hole, then marched into the cage and seized Ilya roughly. She only managed a small shriek of protest before they pulled her out and leapt into the air.
* * *
Blake licked dry lips as he woke on something soft.
"Drink this." Ilya was apparently holding him in her lap. She held a small flask to his lips, and he practically grabbed it and yanked it before holding himself back and taking sips.
"Your stupid...servants, won't go get more water from my cage, so this is all I have."
Blake looked at his now only slightly mangled leg and sighed with a smile. He patted Ilya's knee.
"Nice to see you, too."
The orc girl smiled and wiped at a tear, then put a hand to Blake's face. "How did you...I mean, thank you for saving me."
"My pleasure. Well not really, it was kind of terrible. There's a river of boiling blood just back there, and an open portal to literal hell."
Ilya shook with a little laugh.
"Are you alright, Master? This Orc cast Healing Wind on you. She also Cast Fortify Body and Protection during your fight with the demon. I believe she is an ally."
Ilya startled and stared at the floating orb. It occurred to him he could have turned the thing into a ‘combat mode’ and winced at the stupidity.
"Don't worry, she's with me, and quite harmless. For now anyway.” Blake sagged into Ilya’s lap. “Thank you, Navi. And apparently thank you, Ilya, for the well timed magic. I'd guessed it was something." He groaned as he tried to sit up, then decided he was rather happy to rest where he was. "When did you start casting spells powerful enough to fight demons, anyway?"
"During my year or so of imprisonment in that cage," Ilya teased with still slightly wet eyes.
"Oh I'm sorry," Blake laughed. "I was busy killing a different demon and building a small magical army to save you. Did it take longer than you expected?"
Blake sent his constructs back to gather Ilya's things from the cage, then closed his eyes and examined the damage. His Partition was still pretty fucked up. 'Closing' it didn't seem possible, so he hoped it would just heal or that he could fix it with Meditation or something. Then he finally glanced at his notifications...
[Planar Entity: Lesser Cavaszu killed. Experience (moderate) gained.]
[Objective complete. Rescue Ilya Vori from the ancient orc mine. Reward: Forgotten Fifth Oracle Stone.]
[You have earned enough experience to reach Level 10. Please select a secondary class.]
[Title gained: Cavaszu you, too. You have slain a lesser lieutenant of hell. +1 to all mental statistics. Increased Planar Entity Killer aura.]
Well. Blake stared. Holy shit.
Warmth flooded his body, and he groaned in pleasure before opening his eyes to see Ilya illuminated with a dull green silhouette. He sighed and decided in that moment she looked like a green angel.
"The touch version is more efficient, but this will have to do," she said, focusing as she put her hand next to Blake's leg. Then she did the same with his head and shoulder, and the unpleasant waves of pain finally went down to a dull ache.
"That's the second time you've saved me," he said, looking into her amber eyes.
"I'm not sure who saved who this time," she said, hand still on his cheek. He took it and kissed her knuckles, and grinned when her skin went slightly yellow.
"Let's not bother keeping score," he said, wiggling slightly to get more comfortable on Ilya's lap, and closing his eyes again. "I always win in the end."
* * *
After a small rest, and making sure his ‘Oracle Stone’ was for now secure in his pocket, Blake decided to search the demonic cavern. He had plenty of questions about the stone for Navi before he revealed it to Ilya, not sure exactly what it all meant.
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With the help of his flying constructs, he floated down to the bottom and tried to see into the gloom. Ilya waited on the platform, and he lowered slowly to make sure there wasn’t any more demons waiting to pounce.
Fortunately, there weren’t. Or at least none were obvious, and the ‘Cavaszu’s’ body was twisted and crushed enough to have lost its threat. He had his constructs rip out some claws as a souvenir, then noticed the demon wore some kind of amulet that had been too buried in its hide and fur to be seen.
"Navi?" he gestured, and the little orb flared with dull light as it stared.
"Planar Mind Amulet. Enhances Presence. Also has a Mind Rend power gem. Currently drained."
"Well well well." Blake picked it up and almost had it over his head before Navi chirped.
"I should probably add, demonic items are often considered cursed. There's no arcane evidence I can see to suggest that's true, but many races...frown upon that sort of thing."
Blake paused to consider that, then put the damn thing on anyway. Power was power, and he didn't much care what anyone thought about it. He lowered his voice to a whisper and took the stone from his pocket.
“Identify this, too, but keep your voice low.”
“Yes, Master,” Navi said in a hilarious attempt at deepening its child-like voice.
“No I mean...” Blake rolled his eyes. “Just tell me what it does.”
The little construct grinned as its eyes widened. “This is an Orc Oracle Stone, Master! A powerful artifact made for settlement use. I can’t tell you the particulars, but if used to enhance a settlement, it will have powerful effects.”
Blake cringed at the wave of greed that rippled through him, not at all sure how he felt about that. Mason had told him about the natural ‘theme’ he’d added to Nassau. Would this create some kind of orc ‘theme’? Would it help bring the two people together? Or maybe it had more to do with being anti-demon.
He wasn’t sure, but decided the thought could wait. He put the stone back in his pocket, especially as he realized he had a rather short timer now to make his class selection since he was no longer a patron.
Looked like three hours, a little less. How unfair and unnecessary, he thought. But rules were rules, so he scrolled down the list of new classes.
It was considerably shorter than first level, which he suspected was because of his Affinity and more specialized class changes. But there was also obviously new options.
Before he even looked and got distracted by new shiny, he decided the best route was to consider his strengths and weaknesses.
His list of weaknesses was obviously...long. He had very little physical ability to speak of, couldn't travel quickly, could hardly defend himself, and frankly didn't have much offensive ability either, at least personally.
Yes he had Arcane Blast but it was slow as hell and didn’t always work. Telekinesis was proving incredibly versatile, and he could likely make better use of it with some better preparation. So that was certainly a path to consider.
He was clearly a 'specialist' with his mind powers, though his constructs had vastly increased his capabilities. But he decided what he truly needed was raw power—the ability to destroy his enemies, and to protect himself, when he was alone or the chips were down.
Mason was annoyingly right about this world so far. Allies were useful, and Blake still believed that would be the difference in the end. But for now the ‘game’ was too full of strange and unexpected dangers, empty of large groups, and you just couldn't always have your friends there to help.
There would likely be multiple ways to increase his blunt power, or possibly something that synergized with his 'Making'. But he knew now he was going to have to kill this 'Gromsh' with only minimal support from orcs. The reality was—he couldn't truly trust his Mind Control powers. It had been a Hail Mary when he took it, and though it still might work, it was better to be sure.
He took a deep breath, and scanned the list. Many were original classes he’d rejected at first level and rejected now for the same reasons. But there were some obvious new stand outs…
Psionic Knight, for example, sounded…kind of awesome, if not very well suited to Blake personally. He didn't want to be in the thick of the fighting. He didn't really want to fight at all. Killing he didn't mind. But fighting something that hit back? No. Altogether unpleasant.
Kineticist caught his attention. The flexibility and power of Telekinesis was not to be underestimated, and this class seemed to lean in to the ‘physical’ manifestations of psionic power. Tempting. Very tempting.
Mastermind made him stare and clench his teeth with an unpleasant desire. It was obviously a further specialization of his mind controlling powers, and he could hardly imagine what going beyond Mind Control looked like…
But he fought the impulse. At least for now. He was about to look at another promising class called ‘Artificer’ when he realized his new familiar might actually be useful with things like picking classes and powers…
“Navi…what can you tell me about classes? Like the Kineticist."
The little robot blinked. "Quite a lot, master. The Kineticist is a Psionic/Arcane caster class that focuses on Intellect and Vitality. It is capable of considerable mental protection and destruction of the physical world. But can be very mana intensive and vulnerable to magic."
Blake smiled, increasingly pleased with his little familiar. Picking a class was a huge decision and every scrap of information helped. 'Mana intensive' sounded like a problem. Because of Blake's lower mana pool due to his constructs, he knew he needed to be as efficient as possible.
"And the Artificer?"
"Another Psionic/Arcane caster class, Master, which requires Intellect, Presence, and Will. It can produce and modify an almost unlimited number of magical objects. Very powerful in theory, but requires the correct recipes, preparation, and resources."
Blake let out a long breath, not really needing a more detailed description of Psionic Knight or Mastermind. There were other options, of course, all of which he'd seen at level one. But the real choices were really Psionic Knight, Artificer, or Kineticist.
All had pros and cons, but Blake remained confident that specialty was the right choice in a game like this. What synergies might he find? What enhancements might an item based class give him to modify his constructs?
It may not be the sexiest choice, but his gut told him Artificer. He chose, and watched the text scroll.
[Gained Class: Artificer. Synergy discovered: Psionic Making ===> True Making.]
[Gained Power: True Making: The art of turning brick into marble. Can you outshine the Makers of old?]
The power glowed slightly in his vision, and he considered opening it right there to see how it had changed.
“Blake?” Ilya called from above, sounding somewhat concerned. He supposed he’d been gone awhile without calling to her.
“I’m alright,” he shouted, “just exploring the bottom.”
He left the power alone for now. There’d be time to test his suddenly upgraded-upgraded creation abilities later. Instead he walked the filthy walls of the demon’s pit, finally coming to a simple altar covered in runes.
He blinked at the symbols, for a moment no idea what they meant before they almost glowed and burned into his sight like he was staring at the sun. Then just like that, he understood them.
[Hidden Class Feature Discovered: Runic Identification.]
He saw the text and decided it wasn’t terribly ‘hidden’, but supposed circumstances were just right. Turned out the altar had an Arcane enchantment of Teleportation, and would take him to the entrance of the dungeon. He knew it as plainly as he knew the alphabet or decimals, just as he knew how to activate it.
As he made the realization, a pleasant voice intoned in his mind.
[Please leave the dungeon in twenty four hours or less, or you will be transported.]
He ignored it as the excitement of discovery still raced through him, feeling as if he’d gained a new sense that would tell him how reality truly was—like Leeuwenhoek discovering microorganisms, and a whole world beyond human eyes.
But if faded quickly, replaced by a sobering reminder of his own ignorance. And of his powerlessness in this insane new world.
It’s just a game, he told himself, clenching a fist. A game with rules that are getting clearer to me by the second.
There were no ‘Makers’, no world history, because it was all invented a couple months before. He wasn’t sure anymore what his goal was. Before it had been so clear—to form some kind of kingdom and ‘win’.
But win what? And how? ‘Biological imperatives’, the machine had said. ‘Survival and procreation’. But those goals were so basic as to be almost laughable. Just being ‘alive’ wasn’t adequate. And procreation wasn’t difficult for a man like Blake, even before he had mind powers. So what exactly to do?
It was still a game, yes, and he still wanted to win. But he wasn’t sure anymore what the teams were. Who the enemy was. Mason thought anyone that wasn’t him or Blake or maybe their lovers were the enemy. But Blake wasn’t so sure. He looked up at Ilya, thinking of all the orc minds he’d touched, then of the horror of the demon lying not far away.
Whatever the enemy was—it wasn’t orcs, not when things like that demon existed. He clenched the stone in his pocket, then gestured for his constructs to go get Ilya and bring her down.
Killing Gromsh was still his plan because the system had taken away his choice in that. Likely first he had to understand his powers and do what he could to master them with the time he had left. But after that…after that, he just wasn’t sure.