NOVEL FROG Chapter 307 - Just how hot can fire burn?
“Eric! What the fucking hell was that!?” Jack was gazing at Eric with a wild look in his eyes. Emily was still trembling and dry heaving, pristine silks now scuffed and dirty, their delicious repast now a puddle of vomit by her face.
“What the fuck was what?” Eric asked, the height of innocence.
Jack’s eyes bulged, jabbing his fingers over the parapet. “That, Eric! Whatever the fuck you did that blew up that one asshole’s head… and the other...” His outrage cooled to a thoughtful frown. “Totally blew out his torso. And his entrails… jeez. He looks like someone strapped C-4 to his chest, than kicked him into the Taco Hell burrito fryer.”
Eric couldn’t help smirking at that. “Surprisingly, I have to agree.”
They shared a grin for a second before Jack’s gaze narrowed. “Seriously, Eric, you can’t be doing… whatever the hell you were doing, without giving us all a fucking head’s up!”
Eric winced. Of course he had truly intended no harm, and intention was everything with both oaths, and his own personal integrity.
Covering his actions with even the most absurd pretexts, because he’d rather be absurd than show these freshly met acquaintances and at least one hostile party exactly what he was capable of, was one thing. But to put his acquaintances and hopefully future friends in jeopardy was a different matter altogether. Repeating that mistake would be unacceptable to him, oaths aside.
Eric’s smirk fell, his gaze solemn. “You’re right. My yell might have been a good faith intent to keep those two minotaurs from making it over the ledge, but I still caught you guys in the periphery.” He sighed, turning to help a glaring Emily, who scowled, but at least didn’t look away from his apologetic smile when he moved to help her back to her feet.
“I apologize to both of you. I’m used to delving solo, and I had no idea that there would be any backlash from my shout. My interface notes implied that it only struck an individual target.
Emily’s scowl softened into a forgiving smile the minute Eric handed her a stein of fresh mead. Or as close to fresh as possible, seeing as how everything in his ES space was perfectly preserved.
“Yeah, well, I guess I can’t say too much,” Emily sighed, taking a sip that had her eyes widening, a gentle smile coming over her features as she whispered a few words that had the smudges and, yes, vomit on her otherwise beautiful dress instantly freezing and cracking right off, leaving her magical attire spotless once more.
“I was just standing there like a terrified bitch who couldn’t even think straight when those four bull-heads were all charging this way and you guys could have really used another ice slick, even if my ice spikes can’t penetrate whatever that fucking Vitality ward that they use is.”
She took another sip of her drink, closing her eyes in a moment of unguarded bliss. “And this shit alone gives you a free pass. I swear it perks up my mana recharge tate and soothes my belly in a heartbeat!”
Jack sighed and shook his head, his glare turning to a smirk as Emily reached down to collect her staff. “Well, if Emily’s cool, I guess I am too. And fuck, far better you taking out those last two a bit too enthusiastically than pulling a runner and leaving us high and dry. But Eric? Seriously. You could have just let them pop their heads over the parapet. It wouldn’t have been the end of the world.”
Eric blinked at this, before immediately understanding. “You’re a Javelineer with a double Node enhancement. Their ascent was your kill-box. You would have blown a hole clear through both of their skulls.”
“Well… hopefully?” Jack shrugged. “If my timing’s right and I have half a second… then yes. I’m pretty much the only one here that can pierce their vitality wards no problem.”
He winced at Emily’s crestfallen expression. “And I’m such a bloody one-trick pony that it’s ridiculous. Three freekin’ nodes just so I can Shield like a tank when we need it, or throw javelins that will take down the baddies. Who knows how many nodes I even have left? OR if everyone will be laughing at me when they reach level whatever and grab an epic divine tier spell node or some other shit we can’t even imagine right now, because the galactic elites like keeping us all in the dark.”
He shrugged, chuckling at his own expense. “But yeah, at least for now, I’m useful. I’m one of the few among us that can pierce their defenses without tapping into a limited number of daily feats or Steve’s awesome magic that will slowly shrivel him to an old prune if he’s not fucking careful… and what was in that sandwich by the way?”
Eric grinned. “Spirit Beast meat absolutely filled with rich red vitality. A favorite among blood magic practitioners.”
Jack blinked. “Wait, you’re a bloodmage?”
“I mean… isn’t it obvious?”
Emily nodded. “He is still covered in blood, Jack. Heat to toe. Even his bow and arrows are magically enchanted bones covered in blood, and you don’t get more necro or blood-magey than that. And Jack? Please quit acting like you’ve bricked your build.” She gently punched his shoulder. “You’re absolutely badass, and you were totally saving our bacon back before our Titan-Shouting archer friend popped in out of nowhere. And if you think we’re going to drop you like nothing, just because we’re locking in those Level 100 god powers you didn’t get the memo on while your still throwing javelins, just trying to survive being stuck in an orc hell-hole, then you really are an idiot.”
Jack grinned in relief before his brow furrowed. “Wait, you guys actually got pamphlets? Why the hell didn’t I...”
But Emily was grinning, eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’m joking, goofball. There isn’t any Level 100 god-tier power node advancement.”
Jack chuckled. “Well that’s a relief, or I would have really felt.”
“The evolution’s at level 80,” she said brightly. “But don’t worry. You’re still useful to us for at least another thirty levels!”
Jack smirked. “Ha, ha. Very funny.”
Emily winked, before turning to Eric. “And you. Please, for fuck’s sake, watch the shouts, okay?” She smirked. “Honestly, I’m just glad you didn’t wake Ron. You guys already act like a pair of Dobermans having a pissing contest. That would have made it a fuck ton worse.”
Eric smirked. “Yeah, good point. And Emily, about Ron...”
Her smile faded into a look both hard and cold.
Eric’s Social Perception blared sudden warning. He immediately raised his hands. “He’s a snappy dresser. That’s all I wanted to say.”
Her icy stare turned to a sigh. “Yeah, look. I know he was being a complete hardass. But he has his reasons, okay? You’re not the first hotshot we’ve run into out here, though never actually inside the dungeon before. And my mentor’s a former drill sergeant who knows how to break through bullshit. His pressure-testing always brought people’s true colors out… when we were in a position to actually handle them.” She smirked, taking another sip of mead. “And you are sort of completely and utterly covered in blood. You’ve even got the same charming smile of Bateman in that Psycho film.” Her brow furrowed. “Wait, are you him? I feel like I’ve seen you before.”
Jack snorted. “That film’s over twenty years old, and how old did we agree you were, Eric?”
Eric chuckled. “Eighteen, I think it was.”
Jack nodded. “Bale’s gotta be a handsome fifty by now. But maybe he survived the pods and is actually looking just as anti-hero badass as he did in the movies?”
Emily glared at Jack. “I know. I’m not an idiot. Seriously, Jack, don’t you remember what that sage told us when daring the pods, right after our parents? That the lucky few truly built for this life with a full set of nodes actually come out of the pods in the prime of lives. So… it’s possible? I mean, just look at him. He just looks like he belongs on the cover of a teen magazine. Just not with so much blood. Unless it’s a goth or vampire special, maybe.”
Jack smirked. “You’re forgetting that I wasn’t there, Emily. I’m not one of the elites, remember? I’m one of the Javelineers that fled the fall of Gilton. I just look like I’m in my prime because I was nineteen when I was forced in the pods at spearpoint. And thank everything that is sacred and good in this world that your boyfriend saw potential in me, so let me join the Silver Griffins and eventually become an all-star in your crew.”
Emily had the grace to flush, lowering her gaze. “Shit, you’re right. It’s just… you fit in so well with our lives that I feel like you’ve always been one of us.”
Jack shrugged. “Well, it’s all good now, with our adjoining condos and your parents always treating me right. So no complaints here, you know?”
He then turned to Eric. “Sorry about that.” His words cut off when Eric smiled and waved his concerns away, now gazing at Eric with odd intensity once more, before breaking out in a fresh grin. “Well shit, Emily, when you’re right, you’re right. I do feel like I’ve seen this cat before. Are you really the one and only badass Bale, Eric?”
Eric chuckled ruefully. “Nope. I was only ever in one movie, and that was scheduled for release just after the world went to shit.”
Emily winced in sympathy, before her eyes widened. “Wait, you were actually in the movies?”
“Not technically.”
“But your parents, they must be in the business… and we’re from New York!” Her eyes twinkled with warmth. “Hey, maybe I saw you at a premier party? Who are your parents again?”
Eric chuckled ruefully. “I couldn’t tell you both of them, I’m afraid. I never met my father.”
Emily winced, star-struck eyes becoming limpid pools of sympathy. “I’m sorry, Eric. I didn’t know. But um… congratulations for almost making it?”
Jack smirked. “See? Not all of us had perfect lives like you and Richard, or had badass Yakuza ties with uncles serving as New York kingpins while learning martial skills that would have done Wick himself proud. Hell, Yuki’s practically underworld royalty.”
Emily’s glare instantly froze Jack’s braggadocio.
“You’re right. She is. And you sure as hell shouldn’t be saying that shit to a cat we just met two hours ago… no offense, Eric.”
“None taken from the guy still covered in blood. And I’d totally be wiping it off, if it weren’t so gosh darn good at dealing with heat exchange.”
“Oh, you mean infravision? The dozens of blazing bone spikes you effectively put up on the side of our keep makes that kind of a moot point, don’t you think?”
Eric nodded. “It does. But it also means that I don’t feel any heat back lash from my own arrows… among other things.”
Emily nodded thoughtfully at that, now giving him a curious look. “I know it’s totally not my business, but as long as we’re getting to know each other and fight together… what exactly is your ability set?”
Eric shrugged. “Bone, blood, and fire is close enough, I guess.”
“And let’s not forget those epic tier shouts,” Jack said with a smile.
“Yup. A cool power I picked up during a fortuitous encounter. Not clearly tied to my build, not yet… but I do have some ideas on how to change that.”
Emily crossed her arms. “But not during this delve.”
Eric dipped his head, in deference to Jack and Emily’s clear concern. “Certainly not where my party members can hear it.”
Emily flashed a relieved smile, showing off perfect pearly white teeth worthy of any Manhattan socialite. “Wonderful. You can look to me for all things ice, by the way.” Her grimace turned apologetic. “Unfortunately, all the progression charts that I have access to made it clear that eldritch frost was the path to true power, which means I progressed out of standard ice, which we could have really made use of for purposes of potable permanent drinking water, if I had known we were going to be stuck in a maze indefinitely.”
Eric winced. “Yeah, I hear that. Nothing’s worse than working hard towards a class or build, only to find out that you really miss what you had to leave behind.”
Emily sighed, dipping her head. “But no one says this girl can’t learn from her mistakes! As soon as I get out of here, I’m buying a storage ring at auction, and I’m cramming it with nothing but rations, water, survival gear and healing potions.” She smirked. “And as much of this mead as I can get my hands on. This is truly a lifesaver!” She tilted her head curiously. “But I’ve been to a Contender convention before, and although it was fascinating getting a chance to hear the various Elven factions make their case without them pointing their bows at us, and offering some damn fine food, including the best tasting pastries you can imagine… there was nothing like this mead, that’s for damned sure.”
Eric smirked. “Let’s just say this mead was Freetown adjacent.”
This earned wide-eyed looks from both of them, gazing a bit too intently Eric’s way, and he counted himself a fool for dancing a bit too to things better left unspoken.
“Shit, are you for real? Wasn’t there a major kerfuffle back at Freetown a while back? Some wild Contender who tried to take out multiple faction heads before fleeing the city entirely?”
Jack chuckled. “Oh yeah, that’s right! And the fool actually dared to eat the pulled pork. He basically declared war against the entire Orc Confederacy. I mean, there’s ballsy... and there’s whatever the fuck he was.” Jack sighed. “Poor bastard was probably strung up and crucified. Or maybe just thrown into one of their barbecue pits. Damn shame. At least the fool had a spine.”
Emily gave him a look. “I’ve heard you rant about orcs yourself, Jack.”
“Yup!” He smirked. “But my chieftan was dead, and I swore no oath to anyone else. But all the same, I’m fucking glad I headed to New York and not Freetown.” He turned back to Eric. “So, I don’t suppose you were at that convention? I think it was hosted by Blue Corp, actually. The only faction that doesn’t give you rights of rulership over any territory you claim for them.”
“True, but they do offer that sweet, sweet, headache-free 20%. And if your territory’s something special, they will invest an absolute fortune in it, turning it into a true mecca that’s pretty damn close to our 21st century tech, in some ways at least, only using Electromana as a power source instead of the electricity we’re used to,” Eric noted with a smile. “And trust me, the accommodations are cutting-edge. They even have limited RPGs on their computers in their hotel suites, along with thousands of reclaimed anime in brilliant 3-D holographic displays, including every episode of Super Punch ever made! Though he is wearing a Blue Corp logo in this version. So if you don’t mind a pre-internet space-fantasy vibe, you really can’t go wrong with Blue Corp, especially when the credits start rolling in, because they invest in actual industrial, mercantile, agrarian, and delving infrastructure where the other factions are just playing Renaissance fair.”
Eric found himself warming up to the intent gazes of his companions, both of them hanging on to his every word. “As a matter of fact, I was at that conference you mentioned, Jack. As for all the sweet grub I pilfered… let’s just say I crashed the Sylvan Alliance’s pad personally.”
Elaine froze, giving Eric a too intent look. “Wait. You’re telling me you were actually in Elonia Silver’s castle? She’s the Contender, right? Formerly a famous actress who had starred in half a dozen high fantasy romance films like our knew reality most definitely isn’t?”
Eric grinned, raising his hand. “Guilty as charged. And I don’t mind telling you, the food was even better than what they were offering the Contenders and all the 30th level wanna-be Contenders in Freetown.”
Jack flashed a hard smile. “And you actually had the balls to pilfer their entire larder?”
Here, Eric adamantly shook his head. “Of course not. I’m not some asshole whose going to put the squeeze on hundreds of desperate troops trying to survive getting utterly overrun by 15,000 orcs and 80 odd cannon. Hell no. But their freezers full of pastries radiating magical deliciousness? The five tables absolutely filled with a feast’s worth of delectable treats as a farewell celebration to Elonia’s idiot of a brother? Damn right, I robbed those fuckers blind.”
Emily froze, too-wide eyes gazing into Eric’s own. “15,000 troops and 80 fucking cannon? Are you serious?”
“Umm… maybe?”
She and Jack exchanged a look.
“Dude, you know that’s impossible, right? No one has eighty cannons. We only have six in New York and they’re all claimed by Classers!”
Emily froze, glaring Jack’s way. “Jack...”
He wave off her concerns. “Relax, Emily. I seriously doubt he’s planning on taking on New York with his army of one.”
Eric laughed. “Well, sure as shit, I’d have to escape this dungeon first, right? And maybe instead of charging in the gates, I’ll just knock politely and head to the market? I don’t know, where do adventurers shop for high end gear in New York?”
“Sacks and fifth, same as always,” Emily said with a smile. “Even though only the heart of our city remains the way it was. The rest stepped back in time by a good fucking hundred years.” Her gaze grew intent. “So, seriously, what’s up with the Elven faction? Are they still around? And what’s this about eighty cannon? Come on, spill the beans!”
Jack flashed an apologetic smile. “Don’t mind her. Her and Richard’s parents had to go off to Freetown on business of some sort, and besides knowing that it has to be about politics, everyone’s keeping tight lipped. I mean, we don’t even know what the status of the Sylvan Alliance even is! They’re the only Elven faction that wasn’t wiped out, right?”
Emily tilted her head thoughtfully, peering up at Eric. “Is that why you were in that collar? You were fighting for the losing team, and the elves and their champions were just put up for auction? Is that what happened?” She asked, before cringing at her own words. “I’m sorry. That must have sounded callous as all hell.”
Jack winced. “Yeah, sorry about that, Eric. We didn’t mean to bring up any bad...”
Jack froze, now gazing at a smiling Eric a bit too intensely while Eric focused most of his attention on the bodies below.
“Wait… Eric. You’re name’s Eric!”
Eric grinned. “Well, yeah. You know that already. Anyway, I think I hear those rats coming. Better get those minotaur bodies while the going is good.”
Eric then hurtled off the parapet, effortlessly leaping to the ground, monstrous Strength, Vitality and damage resistance, and most importantly perhaps 350+ Quickness meant that when he was in battle-mode, time seemed to stretch and slow to just the tiniest fraction of what it would otherwise be. Which also meant that his body had a chance to absorb and counter the inertia, as if his body was making contact a dozen times slower than it would for any mortal, showcasing just one of the boons of a lightning Quickness coupled with the right stats in the right ratios to make Slow-Time an actual thing. Because how many blows that could knock a guy out would be nothing more than a gentle, insistent shove the body could effortlessly adjust to, if it was going at 1/12th of its normal speed?
By the same token, any punch would see the kinetic energy generated jump a hundred fold if the speed of the fist went up by ten. Which meant that his leap meant no more to him than jumping on a bed.
Of course, he was dead set on hiding his true stats and what he was capable of, but the look in Jack’s eyes underscored what Eric should always keep firmly in mind. No matter how naive, impulsive, or young any delver happened to be, no one reached level forty whatever by playing the fool. Except, perhaps, for himself.
Still, it was only a minute to race forward and collect the remaining minotaurs. Best of all, the instant they were in his storage space, Flesh Sculptor gave him an intimate sense of the entirety of the bodies he had claimed. Their strengths, weaknesses, how best he could manipulate them, and most important to him, an appreciation for the strongest, densest bones in their bodies as he closed his eyes and visualized the perfect arrow. An arrow he could visualize so clearly because he had Soul Linked with so many and intimately knew their shape and feel. Thus bone arrows with fletching of leather and sinew were something he could now effortlessly shape in the comfort of his ES Space, no additional crafting skill needed, as Flesh Sculptor paid rich dividends once more.
Flesh Sculptor skill check modified by previous soul-bound artifacts made: Critical success!
Your arrows forged of a minotaur’s femur, are now just as straight as the first handful you had ever claimed. You have successfully created new (minotaur hide) fletching! You have successfully attached bone arrowhead.
You have forged an additional 12 Greater Minotaur bone arrows! These arrows are precisely 5x the density of your other arrows.
You have successfully fused all arrows with the essence of Dominion!
You have runemarked your arrows with the runes of Resiliency and Dominion.
You have converted a portion of one Minotaur body into… archery targets.
Fire at will!
Eric decided he didn’t mind the silence when he leaped back to the parapet ledge, his Strength enhanced Quickness making it effortless to leap the thirty feet height, Finesse allowing him to land as gracefully as any gymnast.
“And now for some archery practice!” He grandly declared, for all that his draw was slow and careful with the first of his freshly made arrows glittering with ruby iridescence, thanks to the runes he had forged with blood and focus, reveling in having access to his sweet, sweet Mana reserves once more.
He took a deep breath, partially exhaled, and held it as he sighted his first target and released his pinch grip, eyes lighting up satisfaction when the arrow streaked through the air to plunged almost to the fletching, no feats needed. Of course there was no Vitality-based field protecting the targets now, but the flesh had still been considerably reinforced after being exposed to his rather awesome Flesh Sculpting boost, naturally infused with the potency enjoyed by all the creatures he raised via his Master Necromancer class.
He couldn’t wipe the grin off his face with the satisfying thwack of arrows streaking forth at a good safe fraction of the speed of sound plunging into his target over and over again as he lost himself in the zen of archery, only one arrow exploding as it hit one of the massive swarms of rats that had come from seemingly nowhere to gorge upon the minimal remains Eric had left of their titan-sized kills. Fortunately for Eric and his fort, the rats found the taste of Necromancy-enhanced remains abhorent, so quickly learned to leave both targets and fort alone.
You have successfully struck your targets 12 times!
1 arrow has shattered.
You have gained familiarity with: Heavy Bone Arrows!
You may now Soul-link Heavy Bone Arrows at ½ standard potency cost.
Jack whistled, gazing down at the targets that Eric had deliberately set up both close to the keep and near one of the tunnels, to mime shooting at the minotaurs at different ranges. “That’s some nice shooting, Eric. They were all straight line, no real fall at all.” He frowned thoughtfully at the arrow Eric had yet to fire. “Those look different than the ones you used before.”
Eric nodded. “I made another dozen in my ES Space with the strongest, densest bones in the minotaurs that I could find. That’s why you’re seeing very little falloff. My arrows go fast as fuck and their five-fold mass means that it takes considerably longer for the air to kill their momentum. My hope is that level 60 minotaur arrows might be able to pierce their natural defenses without me burning a TSR point every time every time I shoot my bow.”
Emily nodded thoughtfully. “Makes sense,” she said, before flashing a grin. “And you are our archer, so… kudos to you for taking your role so seriously.”
Then her eyes abruptly widened. She immediately lurched back, bemused half-smile turning to a look of panicked despair. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, they’re coming again!” She looked on the verge of tears as Jack gave her a wordless hug. “It will be okay, Emily. Right Eric?”
“The fuck it will! Those bastards are going to wreck my arrows, and my targets!”
“Eric, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
But Eric was already leaping free and darting down the hallway, desperate to make it to his targets before the giant trio of minotaurs lighting up the gloom with their fiery red eyes stomped his toys to kindling. All three roared and raised their battle axes up high, clearly meaning business.
You have successfully claimed 2 targets! Six Bone Arrows have been successfully reclaimed. You have successfully Flesh-Crafted Razor Sharpness to all six arrows.
Congratulations! Flesh-Crafting is now Level 25!
You have Soul Bound 6 bone arrows for minimal permanent Soul Reserve cost!
Your last target has been smashed to kindling!
“Motherfucker!” Eric roared, his fist crackling with white-hot flame.
“Eric! Get the fuck back here!” Jack’s worried cry brought a smile to Eric’s features despite his sharp hot spike of fury. It was almost like he cared.
Eric had a plan. It was a good plan. He’d be a low key archer everyone could relax and make friends with. It was the perfect way to move forward.
The largest of the trio of minotaurs roared and snorted, eyes snapping right for Eric despite his careful use of blood and essence, now whipping his massive dark steel axe in deadly moulinets while charging right for Eric in the gloom of darkness.
That was when Eric realized he could no longer hold back.
He didn’t dare to.
If his hopeful friends understood what happened in the darkness? Then he would deal with that when it was time.
For now, it was good to finally tear free all the shackles holding him back.
His lips stretched in a savage grin, ears thrumming with the furious pounding of his heart. Eric found himself taking in every detail of the environment around him, noting the roughly hewn stone the massive minotaurs strode upon with their cloven hoofs and reversed knees, how they roared and bleated so oddly as they whipped their axes downward in fierce, overhand chops to avoid hitting each other at speeds that would have cleaved right through a Sherman tank.
Descending Damocles blades he found effortless to weave and dodge past before returning some fierce savage love of his own, his fist crackling as he unleashed a series of right hooks, spinning backfists, and overhand crosses exploding into the ankles and shins of his opponents.
The minotaur’s looks of surprise would have been comical as they collapsed to the ground upon bones that had shattered like glass before Eric’s onslaught, his bemused half-smile kept so tightly in place now revealing the furious howls of an animal that had been caged, brutalized, and tormented beyond what any living creature should be forced to endure. And no matter how desperately he struggled to hold it all together, to keep from collapsing and shrieking in pain, grief, loss, betrayal and with wild, psychotic fury… all it had taken was the callous destruction of a handful of arrows and a target for him to explode with rage that could no longer be contained.
Furious wrath desperate for a target, any target, as the minotaurs bellows became desperate bleats of panic as the area outside the keep was marked by a dragon’s fury, explosions of fire, and the shredded bodies of minotaurs pounded beyond all recognition.
Congratulations! You have singlehandedly slain three sixtieth level minotaurs with the fury of your fists alone!
Unnarmed Combat is now Rank 17.
Fire Fist is now Rank 10!
You have reached Journeyman Rank in Fire Fist! How do you wish to evolve your ability?
Endless Blows – You revel in the madness of battle and would happily take on an entire army with a never-ending stream of blows! You now only pay half the normal cost in terms of physiological fatigue or Potency Pools accessed by this skill!
Power Strike. - You have already unlocked a handful of secrets once the sole province of an ancient martial clan. For double standard potency cost, you may infuse your fiery blows with added explosive power! Now you do additional damage equal to your strength in terms of raw percentage. - Hidden Boon! Most White tier martial artists never achieve your degree of Strength! Where a gifted young master with 50 strength will enjoy an added 50% damage bonus with his Fire Fists, you will (at present) enjoy a whopping 268% Damage bonus and increased Fire Explosion Radius! - Embrace the Body Cultivator’s highest ideal, and let your strength work for you!”
Transcendent Strike - Dare to go beyond all Earthly limitations and embrace the very origins of destruction! Your Fire Fists will now transcend fire’s mortal echo and unleash a higher order manifestation of the Platonic ideal of Flame, should you will it so. 10 Qi & DOUBLE Spiritual energy cost in Soul Reserves will be expended with every Transcendent Strike you dare to unleash.
Eric’s fury froze in an awed heartbeat, the anxious cries of his teammates fading into the background as he went over the perks before him.
Endless Blows would be excellent for sustainability and training up the skill itself, a vital consideration for cultivators with a Qi Pool closer to the norm. As for himself, even without any perk at all, he could throw an absolutely absurd 280 or more Fire Fists before he needed to cultivate or sleep to restore his Spiritual Energy. If anything, his natural reserves were such that even its advantages in terms of insane grinding, turning 280+ to 560+ punches, would be so niche specific that he’d be far better off getting another perk that actually powered his strike.
Power Strike was, of course, the epitome of grabbing a skill evolution that synergized perfectly with his underlying build. Since his Path of Endless Bounty tied directly into granting him boons of Strength and Vitality with every territory claimed, it would be a way to allow for absolutely devastating strikes that were even now almost quadruple the norm in terms of fiery explosions and, perhaps just as importantly, the radius included, meaning that every time his fist slammed into an enemy, he might obliterate half a dozen others in close proximity. And that number and the damage would only grow with his increased strength as both kinetic and explosive heat damage ratcheted up to absolutely glorious levels. And double standard cost still meant that he would be able to launch a full 140 of those bad boys with every fight.
It was an undeniably devastating perk that he really should get, as it fit perfectly with his path as a cultivator and as a contender.
Yet there was one more that begged fair consideration.
A skill evolution promising an enhancement unlike any he had seen before.
Somehow he knew it would be far beyond Wrath evolving into a Burst of Strength skill, useful as that had been for him in the past, or mastery of a Greater Rune, or infusing essence to his blood and wreaking fiery havoc indirectly.
This would be using his Essence affinities to tap directly into a higher order of Flame, an eternal ideal, into the most primal of all martial blows: His fists.
When he punched, he wouldn’t be unleashing a fiery explosion of destruction to utterly rupture whatever target’s wards he’d pierced with his fist, and maybe inflict a handful of burns to high level monsters nearby that would at least be distracted by the pain.
All of that was a mortal echo of Transcendence
Eric somehow knew that comparing this higher order Platonic ideal to an arcanist’s fireball would be like comparing a drawing of fire to an actual blazing inferno.
Then throwing the sketch right in.
He got chills just thinking about it. Viscerally imagining some cutout orc shaman’s paper ice ward, then devouring it just as effortlessly as a laughing player setting his DM’s papers ablaze. A grave insult that might result in criminal charges, or at least banned from a certain playgroup. Yet in the bitter crucible that their world had become… Eric couldn’t think of a more powerful manifestation of his abilities.
Soul Reserves channeling eternal ideals and Spiritual Energy fused together. Multiple pieces of the puzzle that would unlock the path forward to a Bronze-tier class truly worthy of the path he dared to walk.
He got shivers just thinking about the possibilities.
But even so…
Each strike would cost both ten Qi which he had in abundance… and an absolutely absurd twenty points from his Temporary Soul Reserves, which would run out way too damned fast.
It was here and only here that a perk like Endless Blows would actually be a worthy 20th level enhancement. For he sensed that particular perk would be around to choose forever. Just as he sensed that only here and now, after being pushed to the brink of oblivion, forced to rely on blood and essence alone to survive what should have been his death multiple times over, this day, that he was being struck with an epiphany he could so easily channel into a transcendent, otherworldly understanding of living flame.
He could only pray that he would still retain the flexibility to alternate between mortal and Transcendent Fire Fists.
But even if there was no such option… even if he never had the opportunity to reduce its costs to truly manageable issues, he already knew the path he would take.
For the sake of an ultimate closer after honing himself against the darkest abominations he could find… For the sense of a key slowly unlocking the puzzle of his soul as he sought to unify his utterly disparate build…
There really was no choice but the one he would take, no matter how much he would love to take Power Strike if the opportunity ever arose a second time.
Eric calmed his pounding heart, finalizing the choice he had already embraced, the rest just pretext for the brilliant impossible flame that had utterly disintegrated the trio of minotaurs with his last blow, leaving nothing but a smooth sheer crater in the stone floors, and a pair of broken shafts and Dark Steel axe heads that had been just outside the final Fire Blast’s area… all that was left behind.
And as far as Soul Reserves and his mastery over fire, even the platonic ideal of flame went… he had been pushing both traits to the utmost since the instant a bitter mithril collar had snapped around his neck promising oblivion.
Even as his body trembled with the sudden pulsating surge of power redefining him, Eric howling with the sweet joy of ascension, he knew that his latest stat boost would have no weird twisted silvery tendrils messing with his mind, no AI algorithm redefining his psyche. For the 9 points he slammed into Soul Reserves was just a flick of a metaphysical accountant’s pen, denoting the furious crucible of growth he had already been forced to endure after finally slipping free of his mother’s bewitching gaze.
You have slain 3 minotaurs beyond your level in melee combat.
Congratulations! You have achieved Level 55 as a Primal Adventurer!
All potency pools have been fully restored
Health and Stamina are now full.
Soul Reserve Pool has been boosted 9 points.
You have successfully SAVED versus direct System modification!
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Eric Silver Level 55 Primal Adventurer
Rank 28 Cultivator (Death’s Disciple)
Level 31 Master Necromancer
Physical Characteristics
Strength – 268
Vitality – 281
Finesse – 198
Quickness – 352
Appearance – 24
Mental Characteristics
Scholarship – 23
Perception – 189
Willpower – 77 Perilous Focus.
Charisma – 13
Potency Pools
Arcane Potential – 161
(Mana Pool = 1932)
Spiritual Energy – 236
(Qi Pool = 2832)
Psionic Potency – 11
(Psion Pool = 132)
Soul Reserves – 94
Stamina – 2606 Points
Health – 3599 Points.
Resistances & Recovery
Physical Resistance – 53
Physical Regeneration – 28.1 health per second
Elemental Resistance – 29
Qi Resistance – 44
Mental Resistance – 28
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“Eric, if you’re alive… get the fuck back here!” Jack screamed. “Those fuckers are swarming!”