by Tao Wong
“Yellow mucous from the cobalt imola,” I say, eyeing the dried glob Ali is levitating into a vial. “We need eight portions to meet the minimum delivery requirements.”
“This should fit two-thirds of one vial,” Mikito says, nose wrinkling. “Why do they need eight portions anyway? What if someone only finds six? Are they supposed to just carry the six around forever?”
“Of course not,” Ali says patronizingly. “You either buy more from the hustlers outside the entrance or you sell to them yourself. No one likes carrying drops around with them forever. Well, unless they’re a weird hoarder.”
“I heard that!” I shout.
“Incoming!” Ali informs me, flashing a guidance arrow in the corner of my eyes.
I cut upward with my left hand while dropping, catching the striking snail-shark creature. Instead of side fins, it’s got a slime-like bottom. Otherwise, the snail-shark’s face, body, and the way it attacks is pure shark. My sword cuts into the monster’s lunging face, bouncing off hard bone beneath its skull and forcing it backward.
“Thanks.” I drop the sword and extend my arm, calling forth an Ice Blast that catches a pair of snail-sharks flanking Mikito.
The lady is dealing with her own attacker, trying to pry it off the shaft of her polearm so that she can finish it. A twist of her hips throws the snail-shark and the pole into another attacker behind her, finally freeing her weapon.
Harry is standing to the side, watching everything with both hands up and pointed at the two of us. From earlier conversations, I know it’s his way of recording what is going on from two points-of-view. Even as I catch a glimpse of him, a snail-shark runs right past the reporter, ignoring Harry as it rushes toward me. Ali intercepts this one with a lightning bolt, sending it sprawling.
No more time to look. I refocus, flipping a conjured sword hand-over-hand at a monster while spinning around to attack with a third. Monsters. Monsters everywhere.
I wonder if their top fins taste good?
“Help!”
“Yeah. No,” I say, grinning as I watch Harry spin around on the thread that holds him in the air.
I casually throw a Blade Strike at an encroaching spider, keeping the monster from draining Harry. It’s not as if I want the man dead after all. But there is a certain amusement in watching the reporter spin about. At least the System doesn’t share much of our combat experience with him, not unless he actively takes part. Probably the only reason Mikito is willing to suffer his presence.
“Mikito!” Harry calls.
“Busy here,” Mikito says as she continues to raid the spider-bird nest.
Yes. Spider-bird. There’s a real name for these creatures, but considering whoever named them had vocal chords that were nothing like humanity’s, I’m going with spider-birds. On the other hand, their eggs are supposedly extremely tasty and in great demand at the local restaurants. The only problem is that they need to be carefully handled using a special type of glove and stored in a bag of the same material or else their flavor spoils.
“Ali, behind Harry,” I warn the Spirit.
The little fellow laughs and swoops right through Harry, making the reporter let out a little shriek. It amuses me to watch Ali do a Superman fly-through, punching the juvenile spider-bird that was trying to sneak up on the dangling reporter.
After he completes one more revolution, Harry’s face turns a little more green and his body arches as his mouth opens. I jump backward, dodging the explosion of vomit and snot that comes from the dangling reporter. He coughs and wheezes, the vomit and snot clogging up his breathing tract. At my nod, Ali flits back and burns off the threads, dropping the reporter.
Right onto his head. And his own discarded refuse.
What? He laughed at me first.
Down. Cut. Step. Knee in snout. Then extend foot and kick. Watch as cat-lizard creature goes flying into the thorny bush, impaling itself and dissolving on the acid and poison. Turn around, scan for threats, and realize there are none. All gone. Monsters dead. I exhale, shaking my head as I drop out of my fight mindset.
That’s when Ali sends the notification.
Level Up!
You have reached Level 24 as an Erethran Paladin. Stat Points automatically distributed. You have 7 Free Attributes and 0 Class Skills to distribute.
One more Level. Sadly, it doesn’t change the equation of power very much, though I know in many ways that I’m shooting up Levels at an astonishing rate. Gaining a Level as a Master Class in the middle range should be at least a year of dedicated work on a Dungeon Planet. Not, you know, wandering around a curated city dungeon.
Rather than slowing down, my Leveling speed seems to have increased. At least for the amount of work I’m actually putting in. There are a few reasons for this. Firstly, the banked experience from my time in the Forbidden Zone is making a big difference. It’s one of the many reasons the Fist and other Master Classers like Forbidden Zones. Killing monsters in the Forbidden Zone is not only great for the higher amount of experience they offer but also allows the banked experience to be spread out over a period of time. Significant studies have been done to calculate the exact time-ratio benefits of time in Forbidden Zones to time in Dungeon Planets. A lot of those numbers even include details about the most common types of quests that Forbidden Zone entries provide.
The second reason is a matter of threats. I’m facing Master Level threats at times. At some point, I’ll even get a Master Level Quest. As such, I’m jumping up in Levels because I’m getting the experience that a Master Classer should be getting while I’m still the equivalent of a late-stage Advanced Classer at most. Mikito is benefitting too, but of course, she really is an Advanced Classer. This dungeon run is a good example of the weird imbalance between Levels, our Classes, and the actual threat level we face. Dangerous to be here? Sure. But deadly? No.
I dismiss those thoughts for now, glancing over my stats and the free attribute points I have available. At my level, the actual amount I gain from having free attributes is pretty small, especially when you consider the high number of points they’re meant to bolster. It’s one thing to add three points when you’ve only got ten. Another when you already have three hundred.
It’s why one of the leveling recommendations bantered around—mostly theoretically by a bunch of Advanced Classers, I’ll admit—is to ignore high attributes and instead bolster lower ones. In my case, it would be either Charisma, Perception, or my lowest attribute, Luck. The theory is that since you’re going to be so insanely out-classed in attributes by a Master Class who has already been focused on those high attributes—for example, a Mage in Intelligence, a fighter in Strength, a rifleman in Agility—it’s better to upgrade lower attributes so that you have an advantage over them in other ways. So against a fighter whose focus is Strength, having more Luck might give you the edge. Or a higher Perception, allowing you to notice what the Mage is going to cast before he finishes.
It’s an interesting Leveling strategy, countered by the point that given enough time, a Soldier who doesn’t grow his Agility will likely be out-Agilitied by even an Advanced Fighter. Then again, there’s the point that for most Master Classers, gaining Levels is difficult. So in many ways, the attributes they’re looking at are the last attributes they can ever expect. If you knew you could never again change your build, what would you shore up?
An interesting theoretical discussion, but not for me. I know I’m going to Level up. By skipping the Basic Class entirely, my Leveling speed will continue to be high until I hit Heroic. At that point, I can expect things to slow down. On the other hand, I also know I am literally fifty Levels—the entirety of the Basic Class—underpowered compared to most Master Classes. The good news is that most Basic Classes only give a relatively small number of points per Level. Add the fact that I have my prestige Classes, and the gap in attributes at least isn’t horrible. Except when facing a Master Classer who has managed to make his way up via prestige Classes.
In the end, th
e question for me is whether to double-down to catch up or reinforce for the surprise factor and target others’ weaknesses? Put that way, it’s pretty simple. I can’t afford to fight my enemies head-on. I win—I’ve always won—by coming at things sideways.
So I dump the points into Charisma, Luck, and Perception and confirm the change. No Class Skills to allocate this time, though I’ll have one next Level. Of course, I’d rather leave the Class Skill Point unallocated if circumstances allow. Being able to adjust my build to suit the situation, no matter how slightly, is kind of useful. But that strategy is getting dangerous as my enemies get more and more powerful.
Dismissing my Status screen, I turn toward my friends. “Shall we get going?”
Hours go by. After a while, we stopped heading parallel to the portal location and instead headed in deeper. As we do, the monster types we deal with grow bigger and larger. Some notable new monsters include a Cerberus-like lizard creature whose heads wield a variety of elemental powers. Occasionally those heads seem to conjure a particularly powerful combination, like the monster with wind, force, and fire heads that combined its attacks into plasma beams.
Then there are the various bear-like variants. Lizard-owlbears. Fish-bears. Snake-bear with triple heads. Of course, could you call something a bear if it was covered with scales, had paws but shot electricity off its gilled-and-snouted head?
That’s the thing about trying to use human or human-mythological equivalents. Of course, some of those human mythologies or artwork came through via Mana bleed. But just as many don’t have popular names. Or are just wrong.
On the other hand, I’m impressed by this latest monster. Very, very impressed by the giant, red-skinned-and-horned humanoid standing in front of us. Cloven feet, muscles that would make Conan cry, and a bladed whip held casually as smoke dribbles from its overly-large nostrils. It’s lacking the wings of a balrog, and its horns curl up like a sheep’s more than stick out like an elk’s. I’ll admit, I’m almost curious if the horns drop every year. How weird would that be, to be a demon that had to regrow your headpiece each year?
“John?” Mikito prods my side.
“Sorry. Just thinking,” I say. “Think we can take it?”
Mikito’s lips purse as she stares at the monster’s status. I review it once again to remind me of the trouble we’re looking at.
Greater Forest Demon (Level 103)
HP: 7183/7183
MP: 789/789
Conditions: Burning Aura, Vengeance, Demon Thralls, Pain to Blood, Heroic Regeneration
The Burning Aura would be a pain. Just looking at the scorched earth in the clearing the monster stood within gave an idea of what the aura did. Other than the vegetation that had grown to thrive in the extreme heat, there was nothing but churned earth and ash around the monster. I did wonder if he stayed in one location or if the Demon was nomadic. And if so, how did the vegetation survive? Then again, most of the vegetation around here was particularly resistant to being burnt down. Perhaps it could survive short-term contact with the Aura.
“Ali?”
“You’re going to have hit him and keep hitting him. If you let the demon take a break, its Heroic Regeneration will fill in its health. Your Penetration Skills will be less useful too. Its Pain to Blood ability converts damage to health rather than stopping the damage entirely.” Ali looks at Mikito’s naginata before he asks hesitantly, “Neither one of you bought a regeneration block Skill, did you?”
“Poison,” Mikito answers succinctly.
“Nope. I got Freezing Blade, which should be a little more effective here. I could hit it with a couple of Army of Ones.” No matter how tough its regeneration is, I can guarantee a couple of my Class Skills would take it out. If I can make all my blades hit. Which isn’t impossible.
“I’d be careful with that,” Ali says, staring at a screen in front of him. “The Demon’s got a Rage ability that’ll allow it to ignore damage for a period. And another that will allow it to stop damage from any one Skill or spell source.”
My jaw drops. “What? How the hell is that even fair?”
“It’s a level 100+ monster,” Ali says with a roll of his eyes. “They all have their own gimmicks.”
“Can I buy a Skill neutralizer like that?” Mikito asks.
“Of course. Neutralizers are relatively cheap. You can even pick ones that target only a certain class of Skills,” Ali says. “Oh, and Harry? You might want to back off a little. It’s got a ton of area effect attacks.”
“All right, if we’re going to do this…” I review what I know.
The group inches closer together, and we plot out our plan of attack. It’s almost a luxury, having the opportunity to plan a fight like this. It kind of makes me realize why some of the Galactics I’ve fought before seemed so slow at adapting. If this is their experience when dealing with monsters, then they really aren’t used to sudden changes or surprise attacks.
Crouched in front of the monster, I find myself chuckling at the “plan” I put together. Really, it isn’t that complicated—the vast majority of the time was spent discussing the various Skills the monster is known to use, their telltale signs if we had the knowledge, and our reactions. The actual tactic is a basic flanking attack that I’ll start. Nothing like my insane plans to lure monsters into traps, stick myself into their gullets, or trap them in constantly teleporting Portals. This is a straight-up bash-and-mash. I’d feel guilty about it, but I’ve come to the realization that my tendency toward unconventional solutions mostly had to do with being significantly underpowered.
When you can bash-and-mash, why go through all that trouble?
“Ready.”
“Eight more minutes and I’ll be done with my latest episode. I really want to know if they got enough gold.”
“Camera’s set up.”
Obviously, I ignore Ali and Harry’s respectively inane and useless comments.
I call down the Beacon of the Angels, letting the entire thing start up high as it prefers to do. This has the added advantage of allowing the attack to come from outside the Demon’s visual range.
Which is why the first the Demon knows it’s under attack is a beam of solid white-blue light slamming into it and its surroundings, destroying vegetation and burning skin and muscle. Damage piles up, but I can see its health recovering immediately. I jump out of hiding, crossing the ground to it even as I call up my next attack.
Army of One creates a swirl of blades all around me, swords forming as they ready to strike. The slight lag for the Skill to take full effect is why I didn’t start with it. Also, there’s a certain lack of subtlety when you have a dozen swords around you.
When the Beacon of the Angels finishes, the Demon is snarling at me, crouched low as its body steams. Arcs of compressed power slash outward, edged with the light blue of my Mana Blade. One after the other, they impact the creature’s body. Unfortunately, its health bar doesn’t move, no matter how many blows land. I stare into the Greater Demon’s glowing eyes, watching as its ability negates all the damage. Even as my Skill dies down, the earth around the monster is glowing and melted. The creature’s health continues to tick up. Thankfully, Ali warned me about this, so I don’t hesitate and toss a pair of grenades.
Rather than focus on my attacks, the monster throws its head back and howls. Ali takes position up high, watching for the minions that must be coming. He—and thus me—have the perfect Spirit-eye-view to see Mikito launch herself through the air, naginata pointed at the monster’s back. Even as we watch, the blade of the naginata grows, dwarfing its original size and blazing red. The extended blade plunges into the Demon’s back, parting skin and bone before the true blade enters, all powered by Mikito’s weight and momentum. A little status update appears above the creature’s head, a sign that it has been poisoned. It’s only a minor debuff to slow the damn thing’s ridiculous regeneration rate, but it’s better than nothing.
The Demon roars, twirling and dislodging Mikito. She flips
backward, just dodging the creature’s arm as she does so. Already, the oversized blade is shrinking to a more useful size. I’m not letting up either, running forward as the grenades finally explode and pepper the monster with frozen metal and shards of elemental ice. I trigger the QSM as I run, letting the explosion pass through me.
Split off from its dimension by the QSM, I only have the barest presence and am entirely invisible to the Demon. I time my reappearance for when it’s committed to an attack on Mikito, and I use a double-handed grip on my sword to chop into its hamstring. At the same time, I conjure up the remainder of my blades so that they can follow along.
Chopping into the Demon’s flesh is like chopping into a particularly thick tree that burns back. Even leveraging my body and twisting with my hips, my blade catches halfway through the monster’s body even as layers of skin, fat, and muscle part. The Freezing Blade spell I layered on takes effect, spreading a chill through the Demon and slowing it slightly. Flames erupt from the creature’s flesh, wrapping around my blade as I struggle to free it. I throw myself into a twisting jump, getting my feet on the creature’s lower back and kicking sideways and backward to dislodge the blade. I could abandon the weapon, but I’d have to layer my Freezing Blade spell on the newly formed weapon, wasting time and Mana.
“Oy! Shut up,” Ali says, gesturing downward and sending a dozen Mana Darts into the Demon’s still-screaming face. It’s more distraction and annoyance than actual damage, but every little bit helps. “As for you guys… incoming. I’ve got the east.”
I roll, coming up onto my knees facing the west of the clearing just in time to spot the first of the bobbing thralls. Their loping gait makes them appear and disappear. Each of the monsters are mini-versions of the Greater Demon, with smaller curling horns and longer, apelike arms.
