Chapter 59: The quiet world

After the initial explosion that put an end to the slowly expanding hivelands, the world went silent. The Cave crawlers for the first time in weeks, stopped harrying the bastion, fleeing back to their homes to search among the wreckage for their queens. Not that anything short of (D) grade might’ve survived that.

No armies marched on us and the adventurers scattered through the forest didn’t arrive on our doorstep, ready to put an end to the vestiges of safety in the outskirts of Luxia. All in all, everything was silent.

During the next day, I somehow ended up back at the walls again, looking at the wasteland of death. That spot, kilometres away, is nothing more than ash and soot that fell down from the explosion.

Likewise, Cobalt also ended up there. Not to revel in the victory over the insects. We both knew that Sairal was strong as an (E) grade and I had my suspicions that he was hiding his power. Though, not the strength at his fingertips to make nukes and shoot them casually on a Friday afternoon.

“Dryad Sairal is a special case among (E) grades, I think,” Cobalt says, peeling her eyes off the grey spot. She turns to the dryad who now sits under his tree, happily mixing new spores together.

I give her a nod. How many of them did he kill with that single arrow? How many event points did he gain from that? “We both knew that he was stronger than average,” I say and point at the spot. “But that is something (D) grades do. I saw them fight once.” The land is barren. Seeing it like this, I don’t think that if we win the war, the forest will grow back in that spot.

“Truly?” Cobalt asks.

“Yeah. It was kind of terrifying but they wouldn’t be able to do that.”

“He is level 49. One removed from the evolution,” she says trying to make sense of it. “And he used his spores that cost him, his skills perhaps adding to the effect. Some do that; multiply the damage.”

I give her a wry smile, “Don’t forget that he’s ancient and likely has all his skill points invested in one or another. That’s what? 595 skill levels in total. Probably a bit less since he changed one of his skills recently. And you get a milestone every 50 levels of a skill?”

She nods and we begin to discuss what he might have in his repertoire. And that naturally draws the dryad to us.

“You can just ask, you know,” he says coming out of nowhere.

Cobalt and I jump as if caught with a hand in the cookie jar.

Sairal looks at the spot of devastation and shrugs, “How did I do that? Preparation, effort, money, skills and practice. And to add to your discussion, you are forgetting to factor in that skill levels are never distributed evenly.”

I suck on the inside of my cheek and look at the mirth playing behind his eyes. He’s liking the curiosity and indulging it for once, even if it means offering up one or two of his smaller secrets.

“Dryad Sairal, can one of those arrows take out a (D) grade?” Cobalt asks, likely wondering how she can fleece some of those spores off him to blow a Cave crawler queen to hell and beyond.

The question makes Sairal laugh. “Maybe a very weak one.” he pulls out the vial of glowing spores, carefully not shaking it. “These aren’t made for that. If I had to fight something in (D) grade, which I do want to do since most of those fights end with my death, I’d pick something else. Probably something far more concentrated to cross that qualitative gap.”

He turns to the landscape outside of the walls. “That arrow, while expensive, was intended to be used on Cave crawlers. Large radius, medium explosive power and corrosive mana as an aftereffect. It’s perfect for hive monsters and wiping out cities of lower ranks,” he says almost casually. As if the power to end an entire city is nothing to blink at.

“You two have to understand,” he continues. “That sometimes there is a qualitative gap between two beings. If you for some reason want to kill them, you need preparation, skills, and hundreds of weapons to throw at it in the hopes that something sticks.”

Cobalt nods as if understanding, “To get through the Constitution and skills, Dryad Sairal?”

“Exactly. And even then you need to be careful. The two of you are strong for your levels, especially Green when he is in his element. However, don’t take on something of a higher grade if you don’t have to. It is always a risk.”

He turns to his tree, watching his cauldron simmer with orange slime that tries to flee out of the pot. Zillindial lays at the edges of the carpet of moss, sleeping. “To answer the other question about my skills, the one I used is quite potent, especially after having had it for over two decades. It is quite interesting how time and patience allow a being to tailor skills to their liking. Add to that the Resources at my disposal and you have your answer.” As soon as he came, the dryad vanishes again, heading back to his tree.

The explanation, while simple, leaves me with more questions. How much did his skills contribute to the explosive power and can anyone replicate the same feats? What will happen if I use those spores?

Probably, that last one ends with my death, the spores instantly degrading as soon as I touch them.

I give Cobalt a wry smile and head off to grind out skill levels The pests have retreated back underground for now. It won’t last long. Best to make use of that time.

The first skill I focus on is Stamina Surge. The skill construct is a dial that I can turn up and down, expending more Stamina for a faster mind and body. After reading the description once more, I flick the skill on and set it to the lowest level it can be.

Heat courses through my body as if I drank scalding tea. It flows through me, spreading through my limbs and making my skin tingle as if needles are pressing up against it. The bindweed I consist of takes on a barely noticeable hue.

It reminds me of my encounter with the Chimera’s vestiges. Lesser in some ways, giving way to more control. Perhaps I gained this option after pushing myself in this direction.

My mind speeds up, thoughts pulsing faster than electricity in my brain. The world slows down in response as if everything is moving through molasses. Curiously, I take a step, surprised at how the air presses back against my body almost holding me in place.

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I open my Status screen and notice that even on the lowest level, the skill gulps down Stamina like there’s no tomorrow. The points tick down faster than the seconds pass. Only wanting to have this active for a bit more than thirty seconds for my first test, I break out in a sprint.

I propel myself forward, my feet pushing off the ground and the world moves backwards, the grass blurring away. The heat dims and the required Stamina to keep the skill up spikes with my exertion. I grow adventurous, wanting to taste more of this speed and turn the skill up higher to the second level. The individual strands of my body hum with potential energy and glow brighter.

My speed grows faster while I run along the inner walls. Everything in the fringes of my sight blends into a messy green.

Like my Stamina, my Health too starts to drop. Bruizes form on my body, the vines yielding to the energy coiling inside of them, slowly collapsing into a soggy mess. Health falls down, rapidly descending.

Barely forty seconds on the first mode of the skill and ten on the second is enough to deplete my Resources. I turn it off and wet coughs force themselves out of my throat. I spit my saliva on the ground, the sweet taste of my blood aching in my mouth.

*Stamina Surge (C) lvl 1/25 -> Stamina Surge (C) lvl 2/25.

It’s another dangerous skill for my repertoire. The stronger I get, the more I end up with skills that either have downsides or drawbacks. It makes me wonder how far I can push myself if I activate everything I have at once and ignore the negative effects it will have on me after a few moments. Probably, I’ll just explode from the sudden influx of energy but a mandrake can dream.

With some levels in the skill, everything will become less turbulent, allowing for longer activations. With enough practice, I’ll be able to keep the skill active constantly, managing the bad Stamina drain with Breathe and directing the energy from Solar Storage to direct use.

It is interesting though. I promised Sairal that I wouldn’t get close to any monsters. However, with this, Flexibility and Bindweed of Nature, I might be able to manage. I’m pretty well-rounded skill-wise. The biggest weakness is my low Mind stat, and even that will vanish with a few more levels and the pill of Aching Nightmares.

I stare at the blue light of the system window, reading my current level, and wonder how much I can survive from something higher in my grade. For certain, I wouldn’t have been able to defeat the Queen of the Nest on my own. Surviving her on my own with all my Resources and a full stock, though? It suddenly seems feasible to me.

And I’ll only get stronger.

My eyes rove down the list of skills, eager to practice more while I recover and fall on my newest addition. Scent of Bloom hasn’t done anything for me up to now. The sweet scent it promises in its description isn’t even in the air around me, telling how weak it is, or that I somehow don’t fully understand the inner workings of the skill itself.

Pushing it to the back of the line, thanks to its low combat potential. I begin with stretches. The bruising on my body grows slightly worse as I test out my Flexibility, stretching out what serves as muscles and joints in my body. I let the pain wash over me, telling me where the problems lie, growing more familiar with every ache.

Bindweed of Nature activates and I begin reinforcing my body. The skill doesn’t have the capacity for healing. However, as I push and prod with my mind, forcing the torn vines close together my Health begins to tick up faster. New possibilities of what this skill might become after a few upgrades flash through my mind. Healing, rapid bodily changes, nothing is out of the question.

I let go of my musings and start changing my feet first to get back into it. Even having this skill since the beginning, I haven’t done anything extreme with it outside of changing the size of my claws and feet, and once trying to get longer legs; always afraid that using it in some way might cause damage.

Now that I have the time, it’s the first avenue I want to improve on, testing how far I can deviate from my basic template. I sit down on the grass and for practice, make my feet as human as possible, morphing my ankles, smoothing out the flesh and adding a single smaller toe. The sensations are alien, as if I’m kneading warm clay and am that clay at the same time.

Hours pass as I get closer to my image, shaping down my claws and forming them into stubby toes, fake nails layered on top. The joints are the most difficult to work with, along with the supporting structure for me to work on. Incidentally, a human’s foot holds many small bones; a fact I forgot before I began.

But with each small change, pushing bindweed one way or another, I learn more about not only my body but how the skill affects it. Quick uses of stamina shape my angular heel into something natural.

On my now human foot, my toes wriggle, the joins moving with ease as if lubricated. I stand up and topple over, having grown used to putting my weight on my talons instead of my heels.

I’ve been human for most of my life, though, a few months of being another creature, apparently ignores that fact. It might be my weight, or my height, or perhaps even that walking is stupidly difficult with your sense of balance messed up, but it takes me a while to get the hang of it.

First are the quick unsteady hops as if I’m running on the almost frozen tiles towards the bathroom at seven in the morning. My new joints roll in oddly uncomfortable ways and I shiver at the icky sensation.

Gradually my posture and balance shift and soon enough I’m confident enough to test out more outrageous designs as if my body is the canvas and the paint.

I let go of wanting hands and turn them into a prickly mess, thick thorns growing on every part. My arm thickens with new vines and I let it grow longer, pushing my body to not just be myself but the weapon I can make it.

The vines grow from flesh-like back to the whips I used back in (I) grade. And finally, as the sun starts to set over the walls, I’m satisfied with my arm which is now more akin to a Morningstar rather than a limb.

I head over to a pile of wooden logs that were used for the parts of the temporary walls that I replaced and slam my arm into it. The thorns don’t do much, made for piercing flesh and not wood.

Anyway, the strange changes I made to my body are enough for me to gain two levels in the skill. I change my arms and feet back to what they were in the morning and head to the walls to replace another dozen metres with proper battlements.

While my enhanced stamina pool might be enough to supply a hundred metres more of the bindweed walls, I don’t want to get stuck into giving all my Stamina to the walls all day. I need Resources to practice most of my skills too.

I return to my spot and see that our newest resident has woken up from his nap. Zillindial makes his way towards the lake while Aeru and the other mushroom guardians pull him back. His hands stream through his dirty fur likely going for a quick bath.

Usually, that isn’t a big deal, only we have a tentacle monster in the lake. After the tiny mushroom guardian got bored of throwing pebbles and sticks into the water, and moved on to hector anything else that captured their curiosity, the sea monster mostly went to sleep with nothing to eat, retaining its energy for when something did enter its home.

And as the knock-off copy of Pooh Bear strolls into the water, the sea monster comes to life again. A tentacle wraps around the tiny bear’s leg and wrenches him up into the sky. Screams erupt from the speck of green as he flies through the air.

Sairal shoots up from under his tree and speeds towards the tentacle monster who’s slinging around Green Bear as if it is a makeshift rollercoaster with fewer carts and more tentacles.

I shake my head, “It’s always something new, isn’t it?”

Cobalt, having jumped off the walls to stand next to me, nods. “Yes. He does remind me of you. The bear also stumbles into trouble often.”

“As if you are any better,” I say back to her.