The System Apocalypse Books 4-6: The Post-Apocalyptic LitRPG Fantasy Series

by Tao Wong

  “Gone?”

  “If you’re outnumbered, you shouldn’t be waiting for them to set the tempo. Hit them and keep hitting them. I wouldn’t recommend taking another town though, not unless you’re willing to abandon it,” Labashi says.

  “Guerilla tactics?”

  “Not exactly. You have a well-known base of operations, among other things. But close enough for your purpose.”

  “That can work. Send me the contract. If we can afford it…”

  “If not, we have access to some banks,” Labashi says smoothly.

  “Send it all. And thank you,” I say, my shoulders finally relaxing.

  So. Another option. Well, another two options. Help and a plan. Well, a direction, but I can work on it from there.

  ***

  Awake now, I find my mind bouncing from thought to thought like a sugar-rushed fairy. With sleep eluding my grasp, I leave a note for Lana and take to the streets, walking my new domain. That’s how I find myself seated in the stands of a baseball field as dawn creeps over the horizon, watching Mikito and a hunter team train together. Facing the tiny Samurai in her Ghost Armor are four individuals: two in melee combat, a spellcaster over thirty feet away, and another fighter who intersperses his body between Mikito and the caster, firing a pair of pistols in staccato rhythm.

  A jumping twist sends Mikito spinning through the air in a dodge, her naginata sweeping around her body to force her second assailant to dodge. The moment she lands, she’s spinning aside, taking the impact of the explosive rounds on her armor and building speed to sweep the legs off her initial attacker. Freed, Mikito darts toward the spellcaster.

  Before she can reach the caster, the ground erupts in front of her, a rolling, attacking wave of greenery that grasps and stabs. A second is wasted as Mikito cuts and dodges, giving the others time to catch up with her.

  “Nice use of the spell,” Ali says softly to me. “A bit wasteful for Mana but against itty-bitty…”

  “Yeah,” I agree.

  There are three methods of targeting for crowd control spells—manual, area effect, and System-targeted. The first requires you to cast and hit the target—think Spiderman’s webbing, grasping ivy, and the like. The second is like my Polar Zone spell—target it at an area and anything inside gets affected. Including allies, which is less useful for group fights. And lastly, System-targeted spells go through the System, so there’s no dodging them, only resisting. Of course, in terms of cost, the spells go from low to high in order, so while System-targeted spells might be more effective in theory, they’re also significantly more expensive.

  I watch the fight, the group surrounding Mikito doing their best to contain and take her down while Mikito takes shots of opportunity at the close-in fighters and attempts to get at the caster. Lowering her body to within inches of the ground and spinning on her feet, Mikito dodges a series of shots that impact against one of the sword-wielders behind her. Surprisingly, the bullets seem to do nothing, glancing off his body.

  “What…?”

  “Class Skill,” Ali says and flicks his finger.

  Friendly Fire (Class Skill)

  Reduces damage done to designated friendly targets by attacker. Number of designated friendly units and damage reduced is dependent on Class Skill Level. Mana Regeneration reduced by 5 per Skill Level.

  “Useful. But expensive,” I say.

  I can see why it’s not a common Skill. Even with their group, he’d need at least two Class Skill points dedicated to it, reducing his Mana regeneration by ten. That’s ten attribute points just to stay even, which can be painful, especially when you’re starting out. On the other hand, the way he’s taking part in the close-combat fight, I can see how they’ve integrated his ability into the fight. Curious, I pay a little closer attention to the shooter, calling up his information.

  Mel Furh (Level 26 Gunslinger)

  HP: 187/240

  MP: 290/290

  Conditions: Eagle-eye, Steady Hand

  “Interesting,” I say.

  The two conditions seem to be exactly what they say—boosts to accuracy and speed of targeting, allowing Mel to run and shoot at Mikito, adding to the sheer volume of attacks she has to deal with. It probably would work better against someone who didn’t have the control of the battlefield that the Samurai does, as she exhibits an uncanny understanding of where everyone is. As she’s explained before, it’s more an understanding of the options available to each individual in relation to the attacks they may use on her than a sixth sense. It’s still impressive.

  Close to Mikito, the second melee fighter drops low and pushes his hands outward, fire exploding from his form. It’s the third time he’s done this attack, so it doesn’t catch Mikito by surprise, even if it does blow her aside enough into the path of the bullets.

  Rhys Hnaris (Level 23 Mage Adept)

  HP: 141/280

  MP: 284/380

  Conditions: Hasted, Flame Armor, Kinetic Absorption

  Who would have thought there’d be a Mage who was willing to get in close? Using a combination of martial arts and spells, he’s holding his own. Mostly. He’s not skilled enough to compete with a dedicated melee fighter, doesn’t have enough physical stats to overpower others, and his Mana pool isn’t that deep. Kind of like a middle ground of all bad choices, if you looked at it statistically. Of course, none of that matters when you’re flexible and prone to pulling out surprises—which the Mage Adept is doing right now. The exploding flame, rather than retreating to his body, flows toward Mikito and wraps around her.

  The ranged spellcaster doesn’t hesitate, waving and calling forth her moving greenery spell. This time around, instead of wrapping Mikito directly, she uses the spell to dump earth around the Samurai, entombing her. The swordsman and gunslinger pull back, the former guiding the Adept even farther away by hand. I frown, flicking a glance upward to note that Mikito’s health isn’t dropping too much before I relax.

  A slow ten count, the green-brown mound shuddering and jerking with each of those seconds. But while she’s fast, smart, and destructive, Mikito isn’t that strong. She relies on her weapon and precision to add force multipliers to her attacks, rather than raw power like me. In a situation like this, it’s a major disadvantage.

  “Impressive,” Ali says.

  “She wasn’t fighting that seriously,” I point out. In the few minutes that we’ve watched, I already saw the holes in their offense that she could have exploited if she had gone all out. Among other things, she wasn’t Hasted. “But yes, they’re pretty damn coordinated. Might actually be better than us. Reminds me of Capstan and his original group.”

  “They’ve put in a lot of time training their coordination. And they’ve done it in a disciplined manner,” Ali agrees.

  As the mound slowly falls apart, a bladed polearm leading the way, I hop down to introduce myself. I’m a bit puzzled why a group this skilled and disciplined isn’t higher Leveled. The fact that they’re willing to be out here in the early hours of the morning speaks to their dedication.

  “Hello there,” I greet the group, smiling. Not that they haven’t noticed me.

  I get grunted and verbal greetings. Mikito offers me a single nod before she casts a Cleanse spell on herself to rid herself of soot and dirt.

  After a round of greetings, I congratulate and praise them. It’s something I know needs to be done—boost their self-confidence, let them know they’re doing well. Lead, I guess, if you wanted to think of it that way. Which is why I’m surprised when the Gunslinger snorts.

  “No need to pour sunshine up our ass. Mikito was holding back,” Mel says, the well-built brunet grinning as he speaks. “She could have taken us at any point if she hadn’t limited her abilities and tactics.”

  His harsh words get a round of nods from his team—and it’s clear, it’s his team.

  “Huh.” His bluntness gives me pause for a moment. “How come you guys are so low Leveled?”

  “The Sect,” Rhys answers, grim
acing. “They took on anything that was higher Level, limited our hunting to lower Level zones and limiting the amount of time we could hunt. They wanted us to stay well below their Levels. Made it easier for us to be controlled. Rather than get ‘relocated for better opportunities,’ we decided to limit our growth ourselves.”

  “They could stop us from Leveling, but they couldn’t stop us from training,” Mel says, his hands casually resting on the butts of his pistols. I look at the pistols again and realize I recognize those giant, ugly pistols, but I’m unsure why. Seeing my look, Mel smiles slightly and pulls one out, finger off the trigger and holding it pointed up and away slightly, for me to see it properly. “Desert Eagle. More a toy than a weapon before the change, but with my added strength…”

  “You were shooting exploding rounds,” I say, frowning. “Didn’t realize they had those.”

  “Class Skill. I’m able to make specialized ammunition that works with my weapons. Upgraded them all myself too, so they work with the System,” Mel explains.

  “Can they…?”

  “Nope. Tried it already,” Mel says. “Seems to be locked to me, so I can’t provide the rounds or guns to others. Might change at higher Levels, but for now, it’s only the craftsmen who can do that.”

  “Your Class…” I ask, unsure about the etiquette on this matter but curious anyway. We’re all still figuring things out after all.

  “Gunslinger. You could call me a bit of a gun nut before this. Was in the army for a few years. Infantry. Was in between deployments to Afghanistan when the System hit. That first day, I grabbed at the Class when it came,” Mel says. “Wasn’t thrilled with the idea of being a Rifleman.”

  “Ah.” I nod in agreement. Yes, the System was known to hand out skill- or hobby-appropriate Classes. Still, surprising that he got what I’m assuming is a somewhat uncommon or even maybe rare Class in a city like this. Then again, luck does have a part to play in all this. “Seems like an interesting Class.”

  “I think so,” Mel says, flashing me a grin. “Mikito tells me you were planning on hitting Kelowna earlier, but stopped?”

  “Yup. I figured it’d be good to attack them if we wiped out their Advanced Class team, but…” I shrug, acknowledging our failure. “Didn’t work out. Probably a bad idea anyway.”

  “Why’d you say that?” Mel says, frowning.

  “Well, a friend pointed out that we’d be over-stretching ourselves. We wouldn’t be able to defend either place adequately,” I say, remembering Labashi’s advice.

  “Only if you intended to defend it. Nothing wrong with wiping out their people then pulling back, draining the place of any resources you can get your hands on,” Mel says. “Hell, if you threw up some basic defenses, no guarantee they’d be willing to go after it.”

  “Oh…?”

  “We’re right smackdab in their zone of control. Only reason the other team wasn’t here was because they were expanding out east. If you knock them out, all the cities around us would be in a precarious position geographically. Nothing to support them—which means they might not risk more people to take a marginal place,” Mel says.

  “Risky,” Mikito says, frowning.

  I note that Rhys is nodding as well.

  “Of course, but what do you lose out? Might widen their options, but if you don’t care about losing the cities…”

  “And the people who live in those cities?” I ask softly, my voice cold.

  Mel’s broad shoulders move in a dismissive gesture. Before I can say anything else, another group wanders into the training grounds. Mikito takes the opportunity to order the groups to train together, gripping my arm to pull me away.

  “Bit of a dick, isn’t he?” I say, not bothering to lower my voice.

  “He’s actually got a pretty decent set,” Ali says, glancing at me.

  Mikito ignores the rude Spirit, speaking to me instead. “He’s not wrong. Nor are you. But I don’t think you are here to talk to my people?”

  “Your people?” I say, then move on before she can answer. “I was, a little. Thought I’d get a firsthand look at them, maybe give a few encouraging words. Also wanted to let you know that we’ve got some Hakarta coming in to reinforce the city in a few days, once their transport drops them off. Well, and I sign the papers.”

  “Hakarta?” Mikito frowns then glances at the group before nodding. “You want me to warn the hunters.”

  “Right. I’ll get Lana on it too, but well…”

  “They’re more likely to do damage,” Mikito says, nodding. “Consider it done.”

  “Thanks.” I watch the groups spar. I frown, shifting my feet, considering if I should stick around.

  Mikito steps in front of me, blocking my vision. “You should go.”

  “But…”

  “You have better things to do. And your presence is not beneficial,” Mikito says, smiling slightly to take the sting out of her words.

  “I…”

  “Go. I have this,” Mikito says, waving.

  “Fine,” I grumble and head off, kind of upset she’s kicking me out.

  I’ll admit I’m not the most charismatic or nice individual, but I’m not that bad! Still, I do have paperwork to review and others to speak with. Resigning myself to further work, I head off.

  Chapter 11

  “Again,” Mikito says firmly as I come to an end of the form.

  I glare at the woman for a moment before sighing and walking back to the center of the room we’ve taken over to restart the sword form. One of the advantages of owning most of a city, places like a school gymnasium are easy to find and the bonus in training speeds is a plus.

  Before I can begin, Mikito says, “Focus on your edge. It’s still shifting at the end. And at step three and seven, shift back a half inch.”

  I grunt, nod, and begin. The form I use, that I train, is the same one I deduced over a year ago from what I saw on recordings of Erethran Honor Guard fights. In particular, there’s a certain blue-haired woman whose style I’m attempting to mimic, a way of using the Soulbound weapon more effectively. It requires me to summon and banish my blades as I attack and defend. Together, Mikito and I have further refined it, adding the additional blades from Thousand Blades so that I can form a never-ending ring of swords around my body. In theory—and with some practice—the form allows me to attack and defend at the same time, constraining openings as the floating blades cut off lines of attack.

  Sadly, while Mikito might be trained, smart, and dedicated, she was also limited by her past. Human martial arts don’t contain much knowledge about floating weapons that move in their own paths, so we’re both struggling to figure out the best ways to use this Skill of mine. Since the recordings we have are of the lady in actual combat, replicating them into forms that I can use to train was difficult. If it weren’t for the fact that I heal constantly, I’d be littered with wounds.

  It’s only after I’ve run through the forms another four times that Mikito calls it a day. At least for the theory portion of our early morning training session. As I stretch and rub at the latest cut, smearing blood over my skin, Mikito is gently stretching.

  “Ready?” the young Japanese woman asks me.

  “Limits?” I answer.

  “No Skills for the first three rounds. Then we’ll increase. Choose one Skill or spell to add each round,” Mikito suggests.

  I nod. “Sounds fun.”

  I grin, calling forth my sword and getting into my guard. Right foot forward, hand held slightly above waist high and slightly outside my right knee. Left hand close to my angled body, weight distributed evenly.

  Once Mikito sees I’m in guard, she moves, leaping forward. My eyes widen slightly, the change of pace and style catching me off guard for a microsecond. Luckily, my reflexes don’t stop, shifting my sword to aim toward the fast-moving body, and it clashes with her naginata even as the Japanese woman spins away. I catch a glimpse of laughing eyes, the sheer joy of letting go without concern for safety, before I
have to focus. Still, a grin creeps across my face.

  An hour plus later, we’re both seated on the ground, panting. Stamina might not necessarily be a major concern during fights for either of us—well, me—but training is different. We’re purposely attempting to remove all our Stamina, pushing ourselves to the state where we’re tired and start making mistakes. The kind of mistakes that only happen when you can barely lift your hand.

  As I stare at the ceiling, I can’t help but ask, “How are you doing?”

  “Recovering. Eight minutes,” Mikito says wryly.

  Of course it’s eight minutes. It’s mostly the same for me. That’s one of the oddities of the System—it takes the same amount of time for everyone to reach their peak level. Of course, what that peak level is is different, but still. An oddity. Only Class Skills make a difference.

  “I meant with the hunting groups,” I say, clarifying matters. It’s been days since we arrived and Mikito has taken on the role of guide without complaint.

  “It is good. They’re more hesitant than those in Whitehorse. More jumpy. I’m spending time building up their confidence,” Mikito says with a frown. “The Sect has done well to condition these guys to play it safe. Getting them to risk a little has been the hardest thing.”

  I nod, understanding her point. Still, it wasn’t what I was asking. Even if we’ve only known each other for a bit, she’s still a friend. And a year ago, she lost her husband and her family. Now I’m asking her to take care of strangers and train them to put themselves in front of monsters. “And you?”

  “I’m fine,” Mikito says, offering me a slight smile.

  It’s a deflection. I know it. She knows it. But I don’t push it, because, well, it’d be rude. And talking about our emotions, about how we feel, isn’t really something either of us is comfortable doing. Blame our culture, our upbringing, or just our nature. In the end, the results are the same.