In the morning, I took a quick shower and threw on some light clothes, just shorts and a t-shirt. I quickly gobbled down a microwave meal and then watered my Echo Garden, taking a few deep breaths to appreciate the Mana Regen buff I received while within my own “territory.”
I then checked out my phone and was relieved to find that the internet was still up. A news article on the front page of my search engine mentioned that, apparently, some sort of monster had taken down a few critically important power lines, which had shut off a large swath of America’s power supply, including that of a majority of data service providers. It didn’t really make sense to me so I just skimmed the article and was satisfied when I read that they’d posted guards in those vulnerable locations to prevent the internet from going out again.
Some more articles revealed that California was on fire– again– and that some of the larger cities were going through mass panic, with more people dying at the hands of other humans than to the monsters.
I was glad that the place I lived in wasn’t that crazy, but I knew that it was probably just a matter of time. The restoration of the internet would have slowed the degradation of society, but it wouldn’t have completely halted it. Plus, it was inevitable that it would go out again at some point– likely permanently.
After I’d gone through my morning rituals, Karl started telling me what he’d thought up last night.
We have two goals here, he explained, the first being to keep you alive and the second being to ensure the rest of humanity’s survival. That second one is more of a stretch goal than anything, but I get the feeling that you’d be upset if we failed in accomplishing that one.
“I would be very upset if some monstrosity managed to destroy my entire planet and race, yes.” I bit my lip. “You still haven’t explained how we’d go about accomplishing either of those goals, though.”
Well, keeping you alive is much easier than saving everyone else. That isn’t to say that it’s easy, just a lot less improbable. He paused for a second, as if thinking. You’re about halfway to the second threshold at this point. Your growth has been going fast so far, but it’s going to start slowing down. You need to get out of this realm before it grinds to a complete halt. The sooner you leave, the faster you’ll grow.
I squinted, unsure. “Didn’t you say that creatures can only leave once they’ve reached the peak of growth on their planet? If that’s the case, how am I supposed to get there before reaching that point?”
I didn’t explain that quite well enough. It isn’t the peak of Skill growth that you must reach, it’s the peak of Attribute growth. There will come a point at which the realm is incapable of providing you with enough Mana to fuel any more expansion. The Mana requirement for stat growth increases at a flat rate, so it’s based entirely upon the grade of the planet, usually meaning you need hundreds of attributes to scale upwards.
“Wait, so… Hhhhh,” I sighed, “Karl, I can’t drain the entire world of Mana. That’s impossible, no matter how much I wish I could stop all the monsters from spawning.”
There are two types of ambient Mana, Kenny. The first is used for manifesting the System’s magical constructs, and the second is used for enhancing both natural and spawned creatures and materials. You wouldn’t be draining the world of all its Mana– just the Mana from slain monsters. In other words, your growth would need to exceed the rate at which monsters are being slain.
I threw my hands up in the air with a scoff. “Like I said, that’s completely impossible.”
Not quite. The lowered Mana Density on your planet means that you have a better chance of it than someone at your strength would have on almost any other plane, you just need to move rapidly. Additionally, it’s based on how much mana it takes to fuel your growth in a single instant
My eyes widened, then I looked down at the table in front of me. “I get what you’re saying, Karl, but that still seems unreasonable. How many points would I even need for that?”
There is a simple way to measure a realm’s limit based on monster spawning, he noted almost idly, Most planets work on a scale from A to F, with exceptional ones being given the honorary rank of S. Each grade has double the Density of the last, with the exception of S grade planes, which are at least ten times stronger.
Simply put, if you can find a pack of monsters and measure their own Mana Density in comparison to the world’s Mana Density, so long as you know one or the other, you’ll be able to place the unknown onto the scale. Goblins are F grade creatures, and two spawn in each group for each percentage of Mana Density. Usually you wouldn’t see them spawn in groups larger than two here, but the Mana in your world has yet to settle, and is most likely being drawn towards summonings and widening the holes in the plane, letting even more come through.
“Can you get to your point?” I clicked my tongue. While it was interesting to learn how this stuff worked, I was a bit more focused on finding out how to save the world.
Ah, yes, my apologies. He sounded a bit sheepish. I was once a bit of a scholar among dragons, though that was several lives ago. My point is that your world is most likely E grade, though without the ability to directly observe Mana as it summons a creature I cannot precisely confirm that. Similarly to Mana Density, the requirements of a world roughly double at each grade increase, making the limit for your world five thousand points into a single Attribute. That’s currently reduced to two hundred and fifty, but with each day that passes it will increase by a further fifty.
My expression tightened. “Karl. That’s not happening. I can’t make fifty Attribute Points in a day, much less fifty.”
But that’s the thing– you don’t need to get that many points. Not only is that number highly variable on the amount of monsters that die, meaning that it might be, at most, a few hundred points lower than that, your Ability Points from being a Human mean you can stock up on your points and spend them all at once. Rather than spending one point to reach one hundred, you could spend… allow me to think a moment.
Karl was silent for a while, clearly doing math in his head.
The next point you place into Mana would require thirty five “points” of Mana from the world. After that, thirty six, then thirty seven, and so on. It would currently take seven simultaneously placed Attribute Points to cause the Mana System to send you into a higher realm. Possibly less if your Mana increases between now and then.
“...Just seven?” That was much lower than I’d thought. But then, based on how he was explaining it, it was a bit like triangle numbers. If you started from zero and added one, then added two, then three, and so on, forever increasing the amount you added, the total would quickly scale out of control.
For now. That amount is subject to significant change, however. Increasing your Mana through other methods will increase the amount of strain each Attribute Point puts on the Mana System, and you’ll most likely need at least one additional point for each day that passes.
“So I’m racing a clock.” I started thinking more fervently about this crazy idea.
Maximizing the level of Ghastly Banquet and gaining one level in Shielding Clutch would get you there as well, though that’s only if you reach that point today.
I pulled up my Status to help with some mental math.
Name: Kenny Bert
Race: Human (Earth)
Role: Speaker for the Dead
Strength: 5 (+16)
Mana: 14 (+20)
Dexterity: 5 (+7)
Mana Recovery: 11 (+11)
Passives: Human Versatility, Echo Garden
Skills: Ghastly Banquet (Lv. 4), Shielding Clutch (Lv. 5)
Quests: Reintegration (5%)
In the past four days, I’d gained seven total Skill levels– in other words, I was getting more than one Attribute Point a day. At the current rate, I’d be there in nine days, possibly less when taking into account the Mana growth from Ghastly Banquet.
To be conservative, I ignored that variable, instead locking in on the requirement of fifteen Attribute Points. That was fifteen skill levels– more than I could get out of my current Skills.
I grunted. Things weren’t nearly as predictable or consistent as I would’ve liked.
“This is going to take a while.”
Grand tasks always do. They also require a great amount of commitment and will. Are you willing to bind yourself to the completion of this task? To leave this world, grow mighty enough to defeat that which threatens it, and return a hero?
The way he said it made tingles run down my spine.
“I will be able to get back here in time to stop the end, right?” If I could only get back after everything was already gone, it would be a complete waste of time.
Yes. Many worlds possess dimensional mages that can connect to lower realms. The lack of Mana Density here will increase the difficulty, but your connection should prove a sufficient link to force the issue.
“Then yeah.” I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “I’ll do it.”
New Grand Quest: Impossible Task
You’ve agreed to do the impossible to save your world from the impending apocalypse.
Requirements: Attribute Points (0/7?), Ascension (0/1)
Quest Reward: +1 Level to All Skills
Quest Series Reward: Primary Skill Selection
I was momentarily surprised by the new quest, but then figured that it made sense. How else would the System grant quests?
Looks like the Mana acknowledged you. Perhaps this is possible after all.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
“It’s literally calling it an Impossible Task, Karl.”
Yet, it wouldn’t give you the quest at all if you couldn’t do it, would it? The name is likely sourced from your own subconscious. You should stop doubting yourself so much.
I scanned the screen again. “What does it mean by ‘Primary Skill Selection?’ That seems a bit mediocre compared to the other reward.”
Karl scoffed voicelessly. A new Primary Skill? Boy, when you advance to your next Role, you’ll upgrade your current Skills and gain a new Secondary, but you’ll still only have one Primary. Depending on what it offers you, it could seriously alter the course of your advancement.
“So getting another Primary Skill is a good thing?”
Very good. Probably one of the best things it could have offered you.
“Oh. That’s good then.” If I was going to spend weeks of my life grinding and risk my life in another world, I’d better get some sort of reward. “We should probably go hunting now, then. We’re up to five percent Density, and each day that passes means we’ll need another Attribute Point.”
Wise choice. Are you aware of any large gathering places, like the grocery store from yesterday?
I pursed my lips in thought. “You know, I just might.”
----------------------------------------
Just as I’d hoped, the library was completely abandoned. On one hand, it was a bit sad to see a place of learning and fulfillment treated in such a way, but on the other…
“Abandoned probably means monsters,” I said with a firm nod. “Any clue what might be in a library?”
Karl hummed noncommittally. Unclear. There are a number of beasts that may claim such a location, but I’m unsure if any of them would have spawned here. We will have to see.
Accepting his answer, I carefully made my way through the doors, wincing when a bell rang above the door at my entry.
“That’s not a great start,” I muttered to myself. “Now anything inside knows we’re here.”
There was no way around that. We will handle the added difficulty, Karl provided stoically.
Nodding, I gave up on some of my stealth and gripped the katars at my side, readying for Karl to take over at a moment’s notice.
Most of the library was obscured by a bookshelf to the left of the entryway, and to my right was the checkout station, where the librarians would have been. This meant I had to walk a good fifteen feet to get a good look at the rest of the building.
As soon as I did, though, an iridescent flying gecko tried to bite my nose off.
Bookwyrms, Karl growled, possessing my body in an instant and swiping a blade through the tiny thing.
Wait, what’s a bookworm? I questioned from my body’s passenger seat.
“Little abominations pretending to be dragons,” Karl spoke in my voice, though deeper and scratchier, and filled with far more indignation than I’d anticipated. “They’re not even related to us, just lizards that like to collect books.”
That one was pretty small. They must not be that big of a deal, then, I commented.
Karl carefully gazed around the room, though. “Their power is directly proportional to the amount of knowledge they physically possess– that one was small because its territory was limited and we seem to be in a section of children’s fiction. There’s likely at least one more, and they’re probably bigger too.”
I shut up and let the ex-dragon go to work, carefully inspecting the room.
“They’re adept magic users,” he idly commented, “there’s every chance that one of them developed illusion magic and is hiding in plain sight at this very moment.”
I perked up at that, carefully looking around to make sure that we weren’t caught off guard. I wasn’t as good at this stuff as Karl, but hey, every eye counted.
My excitement gradually waned as the minutes passed, though. It really seemed like there weren’t any other bookwyrms in the library. Karl persisted, though, slowly making his way between the shelves and carefully inspecting each and every piece of furniture.
I was starting to get seriously bored when a couch turned into a pony-sized lizard and tried to eat me.
My reaction was to jump back and probably trip over myself, but luckily I wasn’t the one with the steering wheel right now. Karl, far more prepared for this sort of thing, swung a fist at the bookwyrm’s head.
For a second, the katar only skidded across hard rainbow-colored scales, but then it caught against the beast’s neck and dug in, causing the beast to screech in pain and move to the side right before it would’ve snapped its jaws down around my face.
Karl kicked the stunned beast, hard. It got sent a few feet away, and my Mana took a small hit.
That would’ve probably broken my toe if not for Shielding Grasp, Karl!
“Get over it,” he grumbled, falling onto the opposing creature with a violent intent.
Clearly, Karl knew at least a bit about this thing’s weaknesses, as his katars managed to find chinks in its scaly armor around the shoulders and armpits, effectively neutering two of its limbs in moments.
Then he dodged backwards at a wall of purple filled my vision. The ceiling above cracked, causing a handful of broken panels to drop to the ground.
Karl frowned at the disabled opponent as it tried to right itself but repeatedly fell due to its injuries, then moved in as a soft green light emanated from the beast.
My guess? The thing was trying to heal, and Karl was going to take advantage of its distraction.
My Echo companion tackled the bookwyrm, flipping it onto its back and stabbing at its neck repeatedly. Fire encompassed my vision for a moment, but deflected off my barrier as it was, it only seemed to make Karl angrier, as the katars rained down with even more force and speed.
It proved too much for the lizard, whose scales cracked and fell away to reveal battered and bleeding flesh beneath. Karl plunged a blade straight into the exposed flesh, chopping straight into its neck with ease and killing it on the spot.
I stumbled away as Karl handed the controls back over and then exited my body to consume the spirit of the fallen beast, as well as the one from earlier.
Ghastly Banquet (Lv. 4) → (Lv. 5)
+2 Mana
+1 Attribute Point (Human Versatility)
Nothing on my end, my Eidolon muttered as he returned to me.
“My stats went up, but not from the bookwyrm,” I commented with a touch of disappointment. “Come on, we’ve got to get at least one more level today. Would you prefer to keep hunting or try to see if we can level Shielding Clutch some other way?”
May I check the rest of the library to ensure that no more bookwyrms remain? Karl seemed a bit disappointed at the notion of leaving before he’d fully cleansed the place.
“Uh, sure, just be quick about it?” I felt a bit rude for phrasing it that way, but I really didn’t feel like stalking through a library for half an hour looking for something that might not even be there.
Karl took over again and nodded with my head, then took off at a much faster pace.
By the time he’d called it good enough, he’d cut down three more of the spawns, none larger than the size of a book but none smaller than the first we’d encountered by the door.
With no more levels having presented themselves, we decided to try out another location, and I quickly drove us to a nearby playground.
When we couldn’t find any monsters within a good fifteen minutes of searching, we called it and headed to the nearby water park, where a much more interesting sight presented itself.
“What are those?” I queried, half to myself and half to Karl.
Water slimes. He seemed entirely unconcerned. They’re a type of elemental. Very weak, at least when they’re not in water. If they are, though, they gradually increase in size and quickly heal.
I stared at them for a moment. “Karl, the water’s on. They’re in water right now. Is that a problem?”
He was quiet for a second. You wanted to level Shielding Embrace, yes?
I grimaced. “...Yeah?”
This is a good time to do that, then. He explained his plan to me and nudged me towards the elemental spawns. In a move I was certain I’d regret, I followed his suggestion and walked into the field of slimes.
----------------------------------------
“This feels disgusting, Karl.”
It’s draining your mana though, yes?
“...Yeah.”
Then stop whining.
He was right. The main requirement for leveling Shielding Clutch seemed to be blocking “damage” with my Mana barrier, and this method was slow, safe, and only required me to endure some slight discomfort.
Karl’s idea had been to let the slimes crawl on me. Apparently, their main form of attack was to just crawl on their enemies and squeeze, but they were so weak that the only way they could kill anyone other than a small child was by accidentally getting in their mouths. They weren’t even smart enough to do it on purpose, so the water slimes were just sort of… there.
Thinking of all the many times I’d killed slimes in video games, I just sighed and sat back, ignoring the feeling of gelatin trying to give me a massage and the way my sopping clothes clung to my body.
I laid back and started to relax, trying to enjoy the feeling of the sun. I idly pulled my phone out, making sure to keep it away from the slimes so they couldn’t ruin it.
A lot of the same news was circulating, except there was one new tidbit– apparently, the president had been picked up by some giant eagle and carried off, and his body had been found a few miles out. The vice president had been elevated to the position of president, and was being kept indoors and carefully guarded at all times.
I grumbled unintelligibly. I didn’t really care about who was president anymore, but the news would probably only make things worse. People were already losing their minds in the big cities– how long would it take until that started to reach out here? My home had already been broken into, how much worse would things get until the countdown hit zero?
I was eventually pulled out of my doomscrolling by a notification. Not one on my phone, but one from the System.
Shielding Clutch (Lv. 5) → (Lv. 6)
+3 Mana Recovery
+1 Attribute Point (Human Versatility)
+1 Skill Upgrade
Dying Manifestation or Avatar Reinforcement
Dying Manifestation (Lv. 6)
Wrap a target in the grip of an Echo. The Echo may speak to the target freely, providing advice, encouragement, and consolement, and if you’re the target it increases your Attributes by 10% of its own per level in Dying Manifestation. Furthermore, any physical harm the Eidolon's target receives is blocked and redirected to your Mana pool. While under the effects of Dying Manifestation, further Echoes may be channeled through the Eidolon and spent to temporarily conjure physical items, which gain traits associated to the spent Echoes.
Avatar Reinforcement (Lv. 6)
Wrap a target in the grip of an Echo. The Echo may speak to the target freely, providing advice, encouragement, and consolement, and if you’re the target it increases your Attributes by 10% of its own per level in Avatar Reinforcement. Furthermore, the target and any objects they are touching are cloaked in the Avatar of your Eidolon, redirecting all damage received to your Mana pool and granting them certain attributes that the Eidolon had in life.
I raised my eyebrows at the options, quickly shaking off all the slimes trying to get at me. “Any thoughts from you, big guy?”
Hmm, Karl hummed, Dying Manifestation would prove to be a good use for Echoes other than feeding them to me, but Avatar Reinforcement might allow you to tap into some of my old abilities. Both seem quite good in their own ways. Would you prefer to have yet another use for Echoes, or further enhance my influence on your capabilities?
“Nice way to deflect,” I commented, getting the impression that Karl was sending a smirk my way. “Honestly, I think it’s gotta be Avatar Reinforcement. Dying Manifestation sounds really cool, but any Echoes that are worth using with it would probably be better spent getting fed to you, even if we haven’t really seen any results from that yet.”
I concur, Karl sent with a chuckle.
I rolled my eyes and locked in the choice, then checked my stats.
Name: Kenny Bert
Race: Human (Earth)
Role: Speaker for the Dead
Strength: 5 (+19)
Mana: 16 (+24)
Dexterity: 5 (+8)
Mana Recovery: 14 (+13)
Passives: Human Versatility, Echo Garden
Skills: Ghastly Banquet (Lv. 5), Avatar Reinforcement (Lv. 6)
Quests: Reintegration (5%), Impossible Task (2/7) (0/1)
I nodded to myself, resisting the urge to use my Attribute Points right away.
“We’re ahead of schedule for now.” I looked off into the slowly setting sun while I headed to the water park’s control shack to shut off the water. “Let’s test Avatar Reinforcement out and then head home, shall we?”
We shall, Karl answered viciously.
A couple minutes later, the poor, innocent slimes were descended on by an energetic Karl and a pair of flaming katars.