●Novice Perk: Armed!
○Armed!: Gives a ten percent higher critical chance against limbs.
Concentration (N): 10* + 4 (14)
●Novice Perk: Double trouble
○Double trouble: Can cast two spells at once.
Bastard swords(N): 10 + 9 (19)
●Novice Perk: Strike fast
○Strike fast: Bastard sword wielding speed increased by 25%
*: Five of these points do not count toward individual’s skill point cap total.
Skill points available: 0
*Learned skills:
Light armor: 5 + 3 (8)
Medium armor (N): 1 + 11 (12)
●Novice Perk: Like a glove
○Like a glove: No movement restrictions in medium armor.
Survival (N): 15
●Novice Perk: Camper
○Camper: Doubles speed of assembling campsite structures.
Cooking: 5 + 3 (8)
Instruction (N): 12 + 9 (21)
●Novice Perk: K.I.S.S.
○K.I.S.S.: This perk allows you to explain complex ideas in easier to understand ways. Remember, keep it simple stupid!
Crafting skills*:
Mystical Blacksmithing (J): 41 learned + 7 class skill points (48)
●Novice Perk: Spell slots count double for crafting. Items produced are automatically of Good quality.
●Journeyman Perk: Crafting speed increased by 50%. Has a chance to create Excellent quality weapons.
Skill levels are as follows and grant a perk when each new rank is achieved (no perk for unranked): 0-9 unranked, 10-24 novice, 25-49 journeyman, 50-74 adept, 74-99 expert, 100-149 master, 150-200 grandmaster.
Overall, I was happy with the gains I had made while training with Lucky over the last few months. It wasn’t as much growth as I had hoped for, but with training others I didn’t have as much opportunity to train myself as hard as I should have. Though, I had gained a few new perks, giving me more versatility in battle, as well as some crowd control with my manipulate gravity perk. I hated to say it, but I definitely saw why those bastard geneticists trained us so hard, the gains I received now palled in comparison. I pulled up the info on the different levels of morale, for no other reason than curiosity. Tabby insisted that it made no difference to us, and as we were leaving soon, I agreed. Still, it was something I looked at from time to time, out of a sense of guilt if I’m being honest with myself.
I still found it weird that the system didn’t name crafting perks. I bet Tabby is the one who named my other skill perks, seeing as she changed the order of them… well, at least my ion control perks. I never really spent that much time dwelling on my stats to know all of them by heart. Let alone all the perks. I thought, as I brought my attention back to Lucky. He had grown to level three thanks to a few fights with the wereboars and other jungle critters.
Lucky
Level: 3
Sun Elf
“Alright, young buck, take a quick break, then it’s sparring time,” I gave him a wicked grin as I walked over to the small table I had set up to keep water and towels on.
“Bring it on, oh great and powerful Rho,” he replied, following me over to the table. Sitting down to meditate for a few minutes, I started to warm up while I waited. I let my mind clear as I went through my combat forms. Gravity pulses mixed with a few plasma blasts accompanied my sword forms. Allowing me to get lost in the forms for a few minutes, all thoughts and emotions draining away as I twisted and lunged. I didn’t even notice when Lucky joined me. One minute we were going through the forms, the next we clashed in our first round of sparring.
We were just starting our second match, which I was winning, when an elf ranger barged into our training room.
“Great one,” he huffed, out of breath.
“Take your time, soldier. What is it?” I asked, motioning for Lucky to stand down. Walking over to the table, I grabbed some water and toweled off, the soldier taking a few deep breaths to steady himself as I did. Lucky sheathed his sword, stepping up to my side as the soldier began explaining why he was there.
“Great Rho, the wereboars are attacking in vast numbers. Commander Maximus requests you and your apprentice join the forces heading to do battle with them.” With that, the soldier saluted, which I returned, before he marched to the door and waited for us to join him.
“Well, Lucky, how are your spell slots?” I inquired, as we joined the ranger and headed toward the elevator at a fast jog.
“I’m only down a couple, Great Rho,” he said, while rolling his eyes. Still, his tone was respectful as the ranger was in our company. “I have plenty to deal with those pig fuckers.”
I snorted, “literally, I imagine.” He didn’t appear to have got the joke, so I shook my head and continued to talk. “Don’t get too cocky. Remember what I told you about fighting groups of enemies, I don’t want you dying out there. Then, I’ll never get laid,” I said the last part in a whisper so that only Lucky could hear me. I could see the nervous tension that precluded battle building in his movements. My last comment, an empty attempt to ease some of the tension.
“Ha. True,” he smirked, still anxious, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet. “I will remember your lessons and make you proud, Rho.” At this, the ranger gave him a strange look, not used to the informal relationship we had. I was already proud of him, not that I would ever say as much, but was still worried. Winning a battle was never a sure thing, even if you did, there was no guarantee you’d survive it.
We made the rest of the trip in the elevator in silence. As we were riding down, I took the opportunity to look over the gear Lucky had on. He had come a long way from wearing dirty animal furs while welding a poorly made stone knife. He was now decked out in matte brown, padded leather armor, with a dull, iron chainmail shirt over it that ended below his crotch. The armor was tied down to prevent it making as much noise as possible, with the muted colors not reflecting light, making him relatively stealthy if he needed to be. A brown leather sword belt held a sheathed Moonlight on one side, with a steel dagger on his other hip. Neither of us had a helmet, but Lucky chose to wear leather gloves that matched the rest of his armor. The quality of his gear was good, especially compared to what he had before, though no match for my own. Still, his armor definitely had an older, more primitive style to it compared to my own. System produced gear just seemed to be slicker, more on par, style-wise, with what was around when the world ended. Melkor still had a way to go before he was making gear on a par with my own, but he was making great progress. His metalwork on Lucky’s chainmail was impeccable, just somewhat crude in comparison to the metalwork of my own armor. Though again, I think Tabby may have cheated in my favor with the gear I had, not that I’m complaining about it.
Piling out of the elevator, Lucky and I hurried down the steps, our ranger escort returning to his guard post on the balcony Rushing out of the main doors at a fast jog, elves raced past us to get inside as a couple of guards stood ready to close the doors as soon as the last civilian was in. The soldiers were in formation with heavy infantry in front, mages in the middle, and rangers in the rear. Armand was in the front, leading the troops. His father and elven military commander, Maximus, in the rear, talking to various elven scouts and mages. He watched the two of us approach, nodding as a scout gave him a report.
Waving the scout off with a salute once his report was done, Maximus called out to us, wasting no time in getting down to business. “Great one, scouts have the number of wereboars coming at us estimated at around five hundred. I plan to hold them off about halfway up the hill where the distance to either side of the river is the narrowest. I have two standard centuries, ten across, by ten deep, with the usual mage and archer support. Still, there will be a gap on either side of us. I request, great one,” he bowed his head as he spoke, hesitating a little to get out what he was trying to ask me. “…That you take the left flank where the most chance of those swine bastards,” he spat the words o
ut, “will try to break through either to attack our rear or go straight for the tree. Either way, it’s something that needs to be avoided at all costs.” He looked over to my apprentice, “Lucky, I need you on the right to prevent the same on that side. That is if you think he’s ready for such an endeavor?” Maximus asked, staring at me, studying my reaction to see how confident I was in Lucky.
I saluted the commander, looking him straight in the eyes, “he’s ready, Maximus. We’ll hold the flanks for you.” I lowered my voice so as to not be overheard by the other soldiers, “why are you meeting them in the field? You could wait them out in Marvel.”
He nodded, keeping his voice quiet as he walked me a short way from the rest of the troops. Holding my hand out, I prevented Lucky from following. “I understand what you’re driving at, and if that is your wish, we’ll retreat inside, but I believe it’s time to teach those animals not to mess with us.” He sighed, his expression carrying the weight of what his actions would result in. He seemed to age in front of me, the responsibilities that had been thrust on him by me and Tabby troubling the depths of his soul. Still, determination shone through as he started speaking again.
“Staying inside won’t deter them from coming back a second time, or a third. In fact, after the battle, I would like to talk to you, great one, about a counterattack.” Observing me, he tried to gauge what my reaction to his plan was. Unfortunately for him, I was already in battle mode, my expression holding no emotion to measure.
“If that is what you think is best, Commander. I’m not here to make decisions for you. You’re in command, and I’ll follow your orders to the best of my abilities. If you want to counterattack after this, I will join you in that as well, but that’s something we can deal with after the battle,” I confirmed, grabbing his shoulder. He bowed his head to me.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Maximus requested, a look of determination on his face as he turned, heading back toward the formation and calling back to a scout who had just arrived while.
“Alright, Lucky,” I ordered, turning and walking back over to my apprentice. “Kneel.” Lucky bowed his head to me as he went down to a knee. I slowly drew my sword, lightly tapping each of his shoulders, then the top of his head. “Arise, Sir Lucky of Tigris. It is time to prove your worth,” I stood, sword tip pointed down and resting gently on the ground, my chest puffed out, head cocked slightly to the side, back straight, and shoulders squared. As he stood, I could see the pride and resolve reflected in his eyes.
You really look ridiculous when you pose. Haven’t you learned that yet? Tabby inquired through the mind link. Sighing once more, I returned my sword to its sheath, my shoulders slumping a little as I looked around for her. Over here, knucklehead, she sent, I could see her waving from inside the mage section of the formation.
You’re breaking ranks, I replied in a huff. Not because I couldn’t think of a better reply. Nope, not at all.
Waving Lucky away, I sent him to his side of the formation. The elf was a ball of tense energy whose fidgeting about was starting to get to me. Jumping up and down while shaking my body out, I decided it was time I made my way toward the left flank, and while not really a part of the formation, I would still be alongside it. Once in place, I took a few deep breaths as I waited for the order to march.
Chapter Twenty-Two
I was at least a hundred yards from both the riverbank, which was a ten-yard straight drop down, to my left, and my fellow forces on my right. We had been standing there for around half an hour after the short march from the tree. I was standing patiently, resisting the urge to pace back and forth in nervousness in front of the troops, not wanting to spook them. Maximus had chosen a good spot for the battle as the route up to this point was steeper than the rest of the gently sloping hill behind us. He was also right that he didn’t have enough troops to fill the entire gap, really I was surprised to find that over the elves had joined the army. The spot chosen for the encounter was the main approach to the village between the two sides of the artificially moved river. This meant that the wereboars had to find a way to cross the river before they could assault us, making the wait longer and putting everyone on edge. He, wisely, I smirked to myself, gave me the biggest gap, knowing that my spells could create a wide swathe of destruction. I couldn’t see exactly how large the gap Lucky had to play with was, but it looked to be about half of mine.
Finally, after another twenty minutes or so of waiting, I could see the horde of wereboars approaching us from the bottom of the hill. Their disgusting, naked bodies jiggling disturbingly as they struggled to run up the hill. The mass of wereboars showed no signs of organization whatsoever, as they came screaming at us with their weird, whiny squeal-roar. At about three hundred yards out, the archers opened fire, downing the first few wereboars in the middle of the massing front rows. The wereboars trampled those who fell without compassion, not even slowing, their squealing growing louder as they continued their frenzied rush forward.
A large number of the piggy fucks peeled off from the right side of the squealing mass, seeing the seemingly wide-open, undefended field, looking to take advantage of the opening. Time to work, I thought as I threw a dense star right in the middle of them. A channeled plasma stream cut through them, sweeping from the star toward the river, forcing a few wereboars to jump in rather than be cut in half. The werebears were starting to split up, slowing somewhat as the easy route they had thought was there turned into a killing field. I tossed another star as soon as it was off cool down. This one I placed closer to me, in front of the wereboars and more toward the elven formation, further separating the wereboars into pockets I could cut down with blade or spell. With haste and manipulate gravity already activated, I jumped into them, cutting down a group of five wereboars in seconds. Performing a series of sword forms before sending out a manipulate gravity pulse that sent those around me flying backwards, I leapt up the hill, the wereboars unable to touch me.
I could hear explosions from the main formation now, but didn’t have time to look over, trusting the elves to do the job they had been trained for. Another plasma stream cut down more wereboars caught between the two stars, the first of which winked out of existence as my plasma ended. That’s just fine, my little piggies, there’s more where that came from. “Sue-ee,” I yelled, doing my best pig farmer, or whatever they are called, impersonation, before sending another star in front of them. I had been engaged with the wereboars for under two minutes, yet it seemed like both seconds and eternity as they died by the dozens from my spells. Two more plasma streams had successfully funneled the remaining few wereboars towards me. Another handful jumped into the river, while the rest decided to go back to their main mass, trying their luck against the elves instead of me.
The last few months of training had sharpened my skills, making the ten or so coming at me a piece of cake. I was a whirlwind of death as I waded through them, slashing, and stabbing the whole time. With my speed boost, it seemed as if they were moving through honey in comparison. The now dead meat in the front didn’t start to fall until I had already carved a path through them all. As I flicked the blood off my blade, I stood there breathing hard, hearing the sounds of the fallen coming from behind me.
The explosions were still sounding on my right, the clash of weapons on flesh, the screams of the dying all mixed together filling my ears. For a few seconds, I was lost in time, my mind unable to process just what was going on around me. I knew a battle was underway, but I wasn’t sure which battlefield I was on, or where the rest of my squad was. Rho. I heard Tabby’s voice through the mind link, breaking me out of my mental prison, and allowing me to come back to reality. Had it been her voice I heard in those dark dreams as I was reawakening all along? I shook my head to clear it, now wasn’t the time to go thinking about that. Seeing that I had cleared my flank of invaders, I jumped as high as my buffs would let me, heading downhill and toward the rear, left-hand side of the wereboars attacking the elven soldiers. Floating down, I to
ssed another dense star at the back of the horde, then started firing plasma bolts into their flank. I fired off another plasma bolt before taking a second to check my spell slots.
Spell slots: 23/36
With two thirds of my spell slots available, I tossed another star in the middle of their Custer fuck of an attack as soon as it was off cool down. I didn’t go too far into their flank, making sure none of them broke away to try to get past the elves on the side. Mostly, I just harassed them, cutting down ones I could without getting caught up in the wereboars’ main mass. I shot plasma bolts with one hand at wereboars who were about to injure an elven soldier, my left hand holding my sword at the ready. Though, so far, the piggies weren’t keen on heading toward the guy dealing death to so many of their kin.
I hope Lucky is doing okay, I thought, as the mages kept their bombardment up. Arrows landed in the middle rear of the wereboars at a steady pace. The infantry soldiers started to push forward with their shield wall, pushing the wereboars back with every step. It was turning into a one-sided slaughter, one that would end soon if my previous experience with battle was any indicator.
Spell slots: 12/36
I stopped firing bolts into the crowd, saving my remaining spells in case I needed to go all out again. The few brave wereboars who tried to get to me were quickly cut down, as I kept my eye out for any threats that would need my immediate attention. A few minutes later—which seemed like hours in the battle—I saw the first wereboar father make a break for it, turning to run back down the hill away from the sure death that awaited him at the hands of the elves. Trampling a few of his fellows in his scramble to get away caused panic to spread to the remaining mob. They broke then, turning to flee almost as one. With the archers’ support, the mages rained down unchecked destruction on the fleeing wereboars, the infantry troops breaking ranks to let the others advance quickly. I saw Lucky chase the enemy for a few yards, cutting down any who got too close with sword and magic, his steel knife flying through the air thanks to his magic. The knife took foes in between the eyes as he went down the hill in pursuit. Don’t Chase them too far, Lucky. I sent him telepathically, He looked back to where I was standing before heading off again.
G.E.S.S.: Genetically Engineered Super Soldier Page 17
