In the end Cal was able to find several additional sources of his much-needed stats. The beetleworms ended up being an inconsistent source of strength/dexterity, especially when a significantly smaller beetleworm emerged after several days of hunting – an elite tasked with finding the killer of its kin. Cal had attempted to kill it but suffered two severe cuts across his back that put him out of commission for days only surviving by absorbing an extra strength/vitality organ. It was too small to fit inside his net, and Cal had doubted that even a tighter net would face well against its sharp mandibles.
Instead of the beetleworms he alternated between a flower species in an area roughly a dozen miles northeast of his temporary shelter that provided strength and vigor and a species of grazing sheep on the other side, only several miles to the northwest nearby the stream that provided strength and dexterity. The topography of the forest itself did not vary much in the explored area outside the stream – he relied on the sun to tell the time, and Temp’s map to understand his positioning.
He termed the flowers, muscleflowers for the wallop they packed when they flopped around. When Temp had asked why he named them that way, Cal said that he was certain they could lift more than he could. They crushed anything that entered their proximity and Cal instead had used fire to defeat a colony of them fairly quickly, leaving unburnt organs in their wake. Cal packed an extra dozen away in case he needed to shore up his attributes later on.
Temp had commented that Cal was releasing some pent-up frustration that he could not breathe fire, and Cal in turn called Temp unimaginative.
The sheep were more challenging, and Cal had suffered many blunt force injuries when challenging them. After facing them, Cal had the inkling that if he did not adapt his fighting style in this new world, he surely would not survive. Stealth kills and gimmicks would only go so far. Absolute power would crush him sooner or later, especially as the enemies started getting stronger, and more importantly, smarter.
Temp had tabulated its own gains as well as Cal’s as they continued moving north.
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Name
Temp
Class
Mortal chair (level 31 / 50)
Bloodline
Lineage of Leonidas
Strength
Vitality
Vigor
Dexterity
Intelligence
Wisdom
Luck
Base attributes
31
31
31
31
31
31
31
Total attributes
42
42
42
42
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42
42
37
Name
Cal Run
Titles
Bigshot, Mortality, Noncombat, Wastrel, Foolhardy, Mortal combat
Strength
Vitality
Vigor
Dexterity
Intelligence
Wisdom
Base attributes
84
42
33
53
15
62
Total attributes
96
53
44
64
26
73
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Temp was still uncertain about the luck stat that appeared on its own system status – so far Temp was unable to identify a direct analog in Cal’s body and soul.
He was thus uncertain about where the ceiling actually was for Cal: 300, or 350 for 6 attributes. Or whether the ceiling was actually much higher.
One additional note that Temp brought up now that Cal was approaching 300 total base stats was to have him increase dexterity after observing Cal’s performance between 1:1 and 3:2 strength to dexterity ratios.
Although Cal’s current strength put him at a strength advantage compared to most of his foes now, Temp suggested a distribution of 4:3 strength to dexterity to better match Cal’s fighting style. Temp also noted that Cal’s vigor was in a good range at 2:1 strength to vigor, so it would be more optimal to use those stats for something else.
There was no way they could be perfect with his stat distribution, but their plan would do a great deal in helping Cal survive.
As Cal moved onwards, at nights he would hear the howls from behind him, and during the days he would push forward through the endless forest. After leaving his base behind, he knew staying to gather too many organs would be a mistake with the cryptic warning of the wolf pack descending, so he decidedly moved onwards after collecting what he could.
The more that Cal used the trees, the more he recognized the unseen predators hiding in the shadows. Cal would likely be a tasty target, but the effort to risk would never worth it – especially with the direhogs in large supply.
Cal also followed a similar mentality as these beasts. They likely did not possess strength focused attributes and routing them out would only flag him as someone that did not belong to the shadows.
After days of sneaking through the treetops, the stream finally emerged into a lush valley.
Cal blinked in the sudden sunlight, taking in his surroundings. Lofty trees with silver bark, fields of violet grass rippling in the breeze. It was oddly beautiful. Peaceful, but strangely alien.
A flash of blue caught his eye. There - a creature flitting amongst the trees. At first glance it appeared harmless, butterfly-like. But Cal's instincts screamed danger. He felt the power contained in its delicate frame, the wrongness.
[Quest: Defeat the soul-snare butterfly and claim the hidden soul-structure fruit]
Cal crouched low in the brush, watching the butterfly creature flutter from tree to tree. It looked delicate, almost fragile.
Soul structuring. The term tugged at memories from his training, lessons on bloodline manipulation; his soul was structured in his youth, but he wondered if the fruit could help him reconnect to his bloodline, restoring the abilities he'd lost in this strange world. He would have to try.
Structuring the soul was a requirement for service in The Theocracy. The few that remained unstructured were generally considered chaff and those without fate. They existed at the mercy of others, simply tethering onto those that could resist.
Cal melted into the shadows, observing the creature from afar. What was it? Why did this new prompt set him on edge? For now, he could only watch. And wait.
First, he had to find the fruit. Easier said than done.
Cal glanced at Temp, still in chair form. "I don't suppose you have any ranged weapons hidden in that frame?"
“No Cal, I do not.” Clearly Cal was on his own.
Their next target was clearly sentient. It was careful and calculated. As Cal observed for the next day, he saw it hunt countless prey that he had struggled with only weeks earlier, and even an elite beetleworm was not a match. The butterfly moved with precision and grace, each movement calculated and purposeful. Its wings were sleek and powerful, allowing it to dart around effortlessly. Cal noticed a glint of intelligence in its eyes as it scanned the surrounding area.
The butterfly was not to be underestimated. Cal was now certain that it could defeat him in his current state, largely because he did not know how the butterfly finished its prey. He needed a plan that matched, if not surpassed, the intelligence of his adversary.
In an attempt to gain a better understanding of the soul-snare butterfly’s behavior, he continued observing its movements, its feeding habits and its interactions with other creatures. His mind buzzed with strategies and scenarios.
He noticed that the creature never ventured too far from a peculiar cave entrance. One that led into the walls of the valley. This must be the keeper of the hidden soul-structure fruit.
He had once gone to the entrance to investigate, but with every passing moment, Cal felt like he was being watched. He had glanced around, hoping to catch sight of any potential threats. But apart from the odd rustle in the undergrowth or the caw of unseen night birds, all seemed calm. He eventually retreated back to the trees.
Cal knew he must challenge the butterfly sooner rather than later but approaching the creature head-on would likely result in his death. He had to be patient, biding his time until an opportunity presented itself. To rush into action would be foolish.
"Temp, when do you think will be a good time to strike?"
“Afternoon.” Temp responded immediately. “It often leaves to hunt then. We should have a window then."
Cal nodded, finally formulating a strategy.