Seven days after encompassing Mike, Autumn, and Ash, the storm ceased. Rather than the gradual decay that accompanies the tail end of natures storms, this was an abrupt termination. One moment the wind was shrieking with the hellish voices that they had become accustomed to, and the next there was only silence, a change so drastic that Mike was startled awake from his slumber induced by days of constant metal strain. Opening a hole in the top of the shelter, he found that it was still several hours from sunset, and he allowed himself to fall back asleep.

Two hours later, he was awakened by a small, rough tongue licking his ear as Ash begged for something to eat. The bunker had become very hot in the waning light, something he hadn’t thought about after 7 days of the storm completely blocking the sun’s rays, and sweat dripped off of his body, its salty smell and taste pervading his senses. After pulling out a light dinner, he fanned off himself and the cubs while he looked out of his enlarged spyhole at the outside world.

Before the storm had struck, he had been between two dunes, at almost exactly the halfway point. He now found himself almost halfway up a different dune. Creating a hole on the opposite side of the shelter, he ascertained that the distance between his dune and the one prior was about the same as it had been before the storm, meaning that either the dunes had shifted, or he had been moved through some combination of the wind blowing him and his constant shifting of the shelter to get air. He was suddenly very grateful that he hadn’t tried to simply build ventilation into his shelter, as if the former case was correct and the dunes had shifted, he definitely would have suffocated before being able to extricate himself.

With the light fading, he collected the cubs into the satchel, which had become a little tight for them due to their fast-growing bodies, and took off into the night.

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The next week passed by in the usual blur of running and traveling that Mike had begun to associate with this Zone, with only few noticeable developments. Rather than spending his time training his other skills, he split his free time into three activities: 1. Collecting energy from his food. 2. Memorizing the patterns associated with his skills and determining which skill they belonged to. 3. Trying to “Cultivate from the cosmic energy around him”.

He noticed quite a bit of growth from his newly upgraded Skill, and gathering the energy from his food sources was quicker than ever before. He could now manipulate larger amounts of energy at a time and push it through his body from his stomach to his core more rapidly. If he had tripled his initial ability through trial and error while memorizing his pathways, he estimated he was now nearly ten times faster than that. Given a large enough food supply, he could now gather the amount of gas he had previously created in only a few hours. This was still three times slower than the Autumn and Ash, and more importantly, it was still a much more deliberate process for him than for them. He had witnessed on multiple occasions as their energy gathered within them while they were actively engaged in playing. The silver lining he was trying to focus on was that he could now see the cosmic energy with a little bit of focus even in broad daylight.

Memorizing his skill patterns was much easier, albeit somewhat monotonous. He already knew the locations of some of the skills from witnessing their creations, but the majority had been carved into him before he was able to see them. After some trial and error, he found that activating the skill caused the channels to briefly pull in extra energy, causing them to light up. And so it was that he found himself activating skills as often as possible while focusing internally. This was easy for things like Unflinching Meteor where he simply sat in his shelter, but was significantly harder for things like tumble, which only activated automatically through tripping–memorizing energy pathways while your body somersaulted in the air is even harder than it sounds. Axe Throwing and Damage Premonition were also difficult, and required him to rebuild his rebounding training pit–but at least they gave him plenty of opportunities to use First aid and Hands of Healing…the latter of which he could unfortunately only use once a day.

If he learned anything from this truly grueling process, it was that most of his Skills he had very little control over. Some he could activate at will, but most of them he had to activate by doing some pre-designated action chosen by the System. This realization led to a good deal of ranting which helped Autumn and Ash reach a milestone: hearing their first curse words, something he had avoided around them up until that point.

By the end of the week, he was able to draw each of his skill fractals out on the ground from memory, other than Fortune's Folly, “Which would be a folly to ever activate” he chuckled aloud to himself while wishing that the fox cubs could appreciate just how humorous he was.

While he had made some strides in his first two endeavors, his progress in cultivation was abysmal. He had tried everything from sensing the energy in the air around him, to actively attempting to draw in that supposed energy, but his efforts were without fruit. And so the hour he allotted himself towards reaching that goal was becoming another hour towards making a better dinner or sleeping just a hair longer when the heat allowed.

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If nothing else, the rotation he had established in his routine allowed him to not overextend his mental capabilities, and he never reached the near-comatose state he had been in during his frenzied pathway tracing during the storm.

The only other development that occurred during these seven days was the cubs reaching Level 30, making it so they were officially too big to carry in his satchels. Though they whined about it and though it dramatically decreased the speed of their travel, Mike forced them to begin running with him.. At least uphill. Downhill they proudly rode on his surfing body, tongues extended in the wind like a dog on the highway as they reveled in the feeling of freedom that only high speed winds can provide.

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Creenchez quickly made her way through the valley, slipping from shadow to shadow with only her immediate retinue as she anxiously watched the numbers tick up.

99801

99805

99808

Each time she checked, it was closer to the 100,000 milestone, something she had been looking forward to for literal months, and she wanted to be present when the milestone was reached. It was a logistical nightmare to keep the trees being planted both day and night, especially since it had to be done in total secrecy most of the time, since very few days were allocated as planting days by their horde leader. If she ever got two minutes alone with him, she would give him a piece of her mind. Surely if he listened to all of her reasons, he would see the light. But alas, he was a man of action and spent almost all of his time training or bettering the village as a whole.

She was almost out of the village proper when a giggle caused her urgent steps to pause. Peeking around a corner, she saw the horde leader leaning casually against a rough-bricked wall while speaking with three female hobs. They were all under Level 5, and their low Intelligence alone should have precluded him from even speaking with them, but men are fickle when presented with a beautiful face, and Creenchez did have to admit that the three females did have a particular wanness in the shades of green found on their face in addition to some interesting knobs on their ankles and feet.

“They are beautiful.” she said sullenly, sucking in her breath as she realized she had spoken out loud.

Creeanth’s head snapped towards the sound of her voice, his mouth twisting to show the sharp, salivating fangs in his mouth. It was a perfect smile, if she was being honest, and she found herself just as drawn to it as any other female in the valley, despite her differences.

“Oh, Mike” she muttered, instantly regretting the sacrilege of her Patron regardless of the inopportune event.

“Creenchez, hello.” he said as he pushed off the wall and passed the three females, his dismissiveness of their presence causing a stir of pride to bloom within her.

“Greetings, honored leader” she said, dipping her head.

“The honor is mine, priest.” he responded before bowing slightly. It was a measure of respect that he didn’t have to give, and she felt a thrill at his forwardness.

As a true gentleman should, he continued the conversation, releasing her from the burden of needing to find a topic, “Where you are going? Want to come eat soupy soup with me?”

The tantalizing back and forth of the conversation was just one more reason why she secretly loved the horde leader… he was the only hobgoblin in the valley with whom she could have such a stimulating conversation. Still, she had somewhere to be, and checking the count, only 98 more tree-plantings worth of time to get there.

“I can’t. I got to check in on miners.” she lied, unable to tell him about the tree milestone since it wasn’t a planting day. Her brain hoped it would be enough to end the conversation, but her heart bugled triumphantly when it didn’t.

“This is no. You work too hard. You need relax sometimes.”

“I must. It is duty to big Bossy Boss.”

His rough hand found her own, his gleaming, bug-like eyes shining handsomely as he spoke next. “Then go. And go with thanks. You are example to whole gobby valley.”

She turned away then, her heart beating regretfully as she rounded the corner. Checking the countdown timer, she squealed quietly and took off at full pace, followed by her retinue.

“Curse his handsomeness and winning smile.” she panted as the number showed 99970. She would be hard pressed to make it in time.

“Next time, I tell him reasons” she promised herself as she continued running.

The thought of seeing him “next time” causing her heart to beat and making the minutes blur until she was at the planting site. The majority of trees were simply acorn trees, which could be used to help the valley gather enough food, but this tree was special. It was grown from the seed of a tree found near the valley’s walls where the Quicksilver was located. Through some twist of fate, the metal had grown into the mother tree, and this saproling had iridescent veins running through its leaves and thin trunks.

“Today is special day.” she announced as the tree was being planted, beginning the sermon she had been preparing over the past few weeks.