by Tao Wong
“Yes?”
“I’m going to need you.”
“Me?”
“Yup. You too, Ali, so stop pouting.”
I walk out, half-smiling as the pair follow me, grumbling. I can even hear Mikito following, though her, I never doubted.
***
A figure with a flat nose, horns which curve around and protect his forehead, and bugling muscles which ripple with each movement stands, breathing deeply as blood drips from numerous wounds. Each movement, each breath is shown in high detail in the holographic projection. In his hands is an anime-sized war hammer, the body of the weapon nearly as big as the nine-foot-tall figure. The man stands, dyed in dark red and green from the flames, soot and ash drifting from the devastated Galactic city. The crumbled towers, melted vehicles, and slain corpses are so real, I can almost smell the charred flesh and burnt plastic. This is the first combat assessment of our enemy, our target in action.
“The Thirty-Ninth Ward,” Ali says, his voice subdued.
It’s been twenty minutes since the start of the fight. Twenty minutes showcasing the devastation a single Dragon Lord has wrought. What should have started as a simple policing action in a residential ward became something more, something horrendous. An all-out fight between three Master Classers.
The minor break is over as another alchemical bomb goes off, a magi-chemical explosion centered on the Dragon Lord. But he’s gone, the camera tracking Bolo’s movement unerringly as he charges. The hammer swings down, crashing into a fist of green and gold, the resulting concussive explosion tearing down even more of the buildings. The pair exchange a flurry of blows, each strike making broken glass shatter and shatter again. And then, they separate as another explosion occurs in the midst of where they were standing.
Again and again, the three clash. Sometimes Bolo shifts direction, charging and attacking the Battle Alchemist, who transmutes matter to energy before he’s interrupted by the other Master Classer. Other times, Bolo clashes with the Omiu Class III Warrior directly. The Master Classers use the full variety of Skills, spells, and abilities that they have on hand. In a way, it’s a master class—pun intended—in combat tactics. And more importantly, I learn something else.
“He’s better than me,” I say softly when the battle comes to an end, Bolo standing over the corpse of the Omiu Warrior. Not that you can really call it a corpse—more like a puddle of viscera and bone.
“Me too,” Mikito admits.
“Not me,” Ali says. “But I’m awesome.”
We both ignore the Spirit as I raise my hand and tick off on my fingers. “He’s got to have Agility in the four hundreds. A constant speed boost Skill too, something like Thousand Steps but passive. It’s about half as effective as Haste. Strength is easily in the four hundreds, and his Constitution is ridiculous at over five hundred. Lots of different active combat Skills like Triple Strike, Infernal Blow, Smash, Dragon Hammer, and more. Facing him head-on, he spams those attacks when he gets the upper hand.”
“But his regeneration rates have got to be low—he relies on a lot of passives,” Ali points out.
“Sure, and in a drawn-out fight, that might be disadvantageous. But he’s specced Intelligence to give him a really deep Mana pool and a couple of Mana reserves. It won’t matter for us.”
Mikito nods and raises a finger. “That Dragon Fear Aura is going to be a problem. I saw at least three times when the aura made the Omiu flinch.”
I nod, recalling the incidents. It’s not an issue for me, but Mikito doesn’t have the level of resistances that I have. Unlike me, the Dragon Lord has a high Charisma, so his Aura skills are much more effective than mine. “That Dragon’s Breath Skill could be a problem, but he’s not likely to use it in the station. Especially if we can keep him pointed at his employer.”
Dragon’s Breath isn’t an actual breath attack, but a plasma projection technique that all Dragon Knights get at the fourth tier of their Skill tree. Of course, some will project it from their mouth. In the Dragon Lord’s case, he projects the attack from his hammer, which I believe is a soulbound weapon like mine. Except he doesn’t seem to be able to summon and unsummon the weapon like I can.
“Hey, Ali, that hammer—”
“Not a legacy weapon. Soulbound. It’s a Dragon Lord Class Skill. I didn’t expect him to get it actually,” Ali says, frowning. “He must have chosen it rather than the more common taming ability. It has a regenerative function and a growth function. Looks like it has gained a few abilities already.”
“Thank God for small mercies,” Harry says, his eyes still wide and shell-shocked.
I wonder if the reporter is getting flashbacks to the first time he was involved with a Master Class battle. Getting attacked in Irvina while traveling has left its own mental scar on our friendly reporter’s soul. And while we’ve tangled with our share of Master Classers since then, we’ve taken great pains to limit collateral damage. Quiet often that meant choosing to take fights in more dangerous, better prepared locations. All to stop the kind of devastation we see.
“What do you mean the hammer has abilities too?” I say.
“Exactly what I said. At a guess, it’d probably be knockback, crushing, and probably a Strength dispersal ability.” When we look confused, the Spirit explains. “You can think of it as a debuff if he hits you. Reduces the opponent’s strength after each hit. It’s short term, but that’s what happened to the Omiu Warrior.”
I grunt, crossing my arms. My sword is soulbound, but because it’s part of my Class package as an Erethran Honor Guard, other than making the blade itself sharper and easier to recall, it doesn’t have anything special. I’m not at all jealous that Bolo’s hammer is better. Nope. Not at all.
“He also has that Charge ability. Combined with his other active Skills, it makes facing him head-on very difficult,” Mikito says, fingers drumming on the table. “Crippling and slowing him down is the best option.”
“Except he has that crowd control debuff Skill,” I say, shaking my head. I noticed how any movement-restricting debuff cast on him seemed to either disappear very fast or not work at all. “And high innate poison resistance.”
That was all information from the early part of the fight and our knowledge of the Dragon Knight Skill. It was one of the reasons why the Battle Alchemist shifted to blowing things up—both his restrictive spells and Skills and his poison globes did nothing to Bolo. The trade-off between spending Mana to gain an effect was really poor.
“Can you win?” Harry says.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see that Dornalor has made his way into the conference room and is leaning against the door.
Silence descends while Mikito and I share a look. After a moment, we chuckle and offer Harry a nod. In truth, this is a luxury. Researching our opponent, knowing his weaknesses. His tactics. With enough time and preparation, we can take him.
It’s just a question of how.
Chapter 7
I pop a chocolate in my mouth and look around the room. Because we don’t normally have access to the fourth ring, Oi has his reserve team—us and a bunch of other mercs—sitting in a room near one of the floating walkways, waiting. The disused office has a couple of chairs, a table, and nothing else. Most offices are like that, what with paper and computers being replaced by the System. Its main benefit is that it’s large enough to contain all of us.
Once the attack begins, Oi’s people will secure the shield and corridor controls, ensuring that we won’t be blocked off from entering. Until then, the only thing we can do is wait. Our presence in the initial fight is unwanted and unnecessary.
It’s sort of what we’ve been doing for the last four days. We’ve spent the time waiting in the ship, rarely venturing out. There was little point in doing so, as we had more than sufficient food. And when we’re sick of cooking, takeaway was just a call away. We spent the majority of our time on research, the rest talking to Oi and his crew to get a better understanding of their plans. Having spent
most of our saved Credits on other Skills, it wasn’t as if we could pick up anything situational. And truthfully, we would also hit the issue of having too many Skills.
The System is weird. Like the old games we used to play, many of the “Basic” Skills aren’t that useful after a certain point. So what if your Power Strike Skill adds 50 points of base damage? When your opponent has resistances at the 80% level with Tier II armor, then that additional 50 points is nothing. More than that, while Skills can be used almost immediately—barring a short interval when your Mana flows to activate it—the time taken to mentally prep and activate a Skill is still precious time in a fight. When changes in a fight take fractions of a second, you’ve got to be able to activate your Skills instinctively. And that’s where having too many Skills becomes an issue, because you end up thinking too much. And if you’re not, if you’re just relying on instincts, then why waste the funds on buying Skills you’ll never use?
It’s why my active combat Skills continue to be few. There’s no real point, not when I’m still getting used to the Skills I have. There’s even a whole slew of thought and theory that the majority of a Combat Classer’s Skills should be passives. It reduces one’s Mana regeneration, but if you’re not relying on it in the first place, who cares, right? And by limiting the number of Class Skills, you can focus on the actual fight. Of course, detractors point out that such individuals are also one-trick ponies.
Another area of theory crafting for combat Classers focuses on the specialists. There, you gamble on getting a great evolution for your Class Skill. Some have taken this to the extreme, doing it for each of their Classes, making them super specialized. In some cases, it’s made frighteningly effective combatants. Often, those extremists end up dead.
I can see the points in all three options—passives, specializations and being a generalist—but liking all three points doesn’t help you create an actual build. Thus far, I’ve spread my points all across the board with a major concentration on a few. Recently, I’ve concentrated on reinforcing Penetration. I’ve also added some non-Class Active Skills to my repertoire, as more and more of my go-to Skills are well-known. Smart Master Classes often plan for this, having hidden contingency Skills as trump cards. It’s why I worry, a little, about our upcoming fight.
“Chocolate?” I say, offering Harry a piece.
The reporter shakes his head as he drags on a cigarette, nervously playing with a lighter. Mikito, on the other hand, is sitting quietly, legs crossed as she regulates her breathing. I once asked her what she thinks about while waiting for a fight to start and she said she was envisioning the forms she would be using.
Scary lady.
“No, thank you,” Harry says. “Never had much of a sweet tooth.”
“Your loss.” I glance upward slightly, checking the time. Two minutes.
All around me, I note the mercenaries, pirates, and other riffraff that have been gathered. I was somewhat surprised Knuckle’s group was still coming, after his and Alita’s deaths. That’s when I found out you can’t kill a cyborg by tearing it apart—not unless you kill the heart and the brain. Which was also why I never got the experience for killing her. Part of our delay was due to Alita needing to heal up and get her body fixed. Knuckle, on the other hand, was dead like a doornail, which did leave a little resentment in play. It’s why they’re part of the vanguard now.
“You still worried that they’re going to betray us?” Ali sends to me.
“Isn’t that the way of things?”
“Oi said there’s a System-contract on them. Just like with us,” Ali points out.
I nod slightly, pulling up the request once more.
Accepted Quest - Stall Bolo the Dragon Lord
You have accepted a Contract to stall the Dragon Lord Bolo in the fourth ring of Spaks station during the upcoming assault. You will need to either stall the Dragon Lord until the station master is killed and the station control’s taken or until the assault has failed.
Rewards: Reputation increase in Spaks, Access to the Fourth Ring (Conditional), 50,000 Credits
Penalties for failure: Loss in Reputation
Penalties for breach of Contract: Loss in Reputation. Loss in Experience. Enmity of Oi Rikaama and surviving members of the fifth ring.
It’s an interesting Contract. Truth be told, we’re getting paid a pittance for what we’re being asked to do. Still, we get one station closer to getting access to the heretics, and that’s our main goal. Once we get into the fourth ring, I need to figure out how to get to the third.
“Five minutes,” Mikito says, bringing my attention back to the matter on hand.
We wait in tense silence, the assortment of weird and wonderful monsters and aliens completing last-minute checks on equipment and, in a few cases, throwing on buffs.
The Galactics deal with their pre-battle nerves and the imminent dance with the uncaring lady in different ways. The drakes are perfectly still, awaiting their prey, hiding in their reptilian instincts. Others are restless, their bodies shifting, twitching, and rolling as they try to burn off excess energy. The earth elemental is at the forefront of that, his entire body metamorphizing as he pushes his insides out and his outsides in, replacing portions of his body again and again. A mini-hydra-like creature hisses and growls at each of its own four heads, and in the corner, a single pair of hands knit.
“Bridge secured. Move out!”
The voice cackles over our earpieces, informing everyone at the same time. There’s no mass stampede, no crazed rush. The people who are meant to go first lead the way while the rest of us finish our last-minute preps, layering buffs and defensive shields.
We’re not the vanguard this time, but Mikito and I are right behind them. Our job isn’t to fight, so I intend to hold off as much as possible. It’s why I keep my Aura turned off, in the hope of not attracting too much attention. Not that I’m the only one with a Skill—notifications flash and disappear in quick order. Aura of the Green Splinter, the Mana Well, Aura of the Thrice-Chosen Wind. Each Aura layers on, providing a small boost, or sometimes canceling out another aura entirely.
Charging through the tunnels, we cross the expanse of space that separates the rings within minutes. Stars twinkle and flash peacefully out of the windows, discordant with the hum of beam weaponry and the screams of pain which welcome us. We exit the tunnel to a full-fledged battle, one which would make an anime designer weep in delight and failure. Aliens and monsters fight all around us. A power-armor-clad squadron faces off against a dryad and a werewolf on one end. A couple of dwarves kneecap what I can only call a salamander mount while its rider struggles against living metal chains. In another corner, floating in midair, a Psychic faces off against an elemental caster, unleashed energy crackling around their forms.
Madness and violence mix, explosions mixed with spells; blood and other body fluids litter the floor. Metal is torn up and compressed. Bullets whine and crack while multiple mini-missiles explode. Even through the noise dampeners in my helmet, I can physically feel the impact of the battle. All the while, notifications pop up, one after the other.
You have entered a restricted region. You do not have the required Reputation to be present at this location. You do not possess an exemption pass.
-10 Reputation with Spaks Station
Warning: This region is under emergency combat protocols. All dimensional shifting is Locked at this time. Dimensional shifting for any reason is prohibited and will result in loss of Reputation.
Emergency Quest Notification
An invasion of Spaks Station 4.82 has occurred. An emergency defense quest has been issued to all individuals in Station 4.82.
Rewards: Will be issued dependent on participation rate and results (see Spaks defense station standards 7.24.88.1 for details).
Do you accept: Y/N
Obviously I decline, though my lips curl up slightly in grim acknowledgement of the new doorway locked sign that shows up in my vision. Dimension locked. Again.
“Paladin!” Oi calls, and a little beacon lights up in my helmet.
We’re all wired in, so I follow the bouncing ball as we rush past the fight. The disc-shaped station is made up of about seven pedestrian levels and a single maintenance level that stretches all across the outer layer. From each level, spokes for the various docking bays extend at angles that adjust as necessary to fit in the optimal number of ships. Our destination is the center of the station itself.
“Stay close, Harry,” I say, reminding our reporter friend.
He grunts, running alongside us, his Class Skills in full effect.
A series of fast-moving red dots on my minimap is all the warning I get before a series of tiny rolling balls comes out of the corner, moving to intercept our party. My eyes narrow as the damn things stop rolling and pull apart, revealing a series of little homing missiles. Before I can react, Mikito lashes out, and a wave of flame and energy tears into the drones. The few that survive launch their attacks, the ripple fire effect of multiple explosives going off around us making running hard. The walls hold up surprisingly well, while I cut apart a couple of the drones as we rush past them. Before they can engage us further, more of the assault party gets involved.
Down corridors and through holes in the walls, we keep running. At each crossway, we pass more members of the advance team who are caught up in desperate battles. If there’s a flaw in Oi’s plan, it’s that he needs to finish this fast. Because of the advantages the defending station has—the ability to send out quests, the defensive emplacements and shields—the only way to win is to hit fast and keep moving.
Minutes to get to the center. We run past battles, individuals locked in life or death fights, without turning our heads. Harry has his hands held out before him, recording everything he can. Mikito bounces along the edges, occasionally striking with her naginata to come to the aid of others. Rather than the brilliant glow of neon and station lightning, everything’s muted. Stores closed, doors shut, and pedestrians hiding.
