by Dakota Krout
Class experience gained (Rituarchitect): 400.
Class experience gained (Reductionist): 200.
Joe sunk mana into the ritual, and the ritual Rings spread out from the points of activation and began moving along the wall. One of the ritual rings settled around Joe’s feet, moving with him as he turned and ran back into the protection of a Dwarven phalanx that had coalesced for the express purpose of getting him out of the danger zone. He was hustled to the back lines, the entire time targeted heavily by the defenders. For every few feet that they moved, one or two Dwarves were taken down by the concentrated spells… all so that the ritual would go off without a hitch.
The human could only hope that their sacrifice had been worth it, and that they would be able to take over the fort and resurrect them here within the next few hours. Even though Joe could die and resurrect on his own, he knew for a fact that if he was killed while this ritual was in effect, it would stop working entirely. Until the wall was down, at least enough for them to get over it, Joe's only duty was to stay alive. This gave him some time to wonder why he had gained class experience in two different classes. Looking over the logs gave him plenty of information.
Ritual activated. Ritual falls within the purview of the Rituarchitect class. Calculating experience based on ritual tier and difficulty level of deployment. Ritual of Raze is a Student-ranked ritual for tearing down buildings. Difficulty assessed as ‘Medium’. Active combat zone mitigated by defensive forces.
Ritual activated. Ritual has been created using the abilities of a Reductionist. Calculating experience based on crafting tier. Assessed as Student-ranked. Experience allocated: 200.
“I can't tell if it is a blessing or a curse that Reductionist does everything by multiples,” Joe sighed as he tried to figure out the math behind his experience gained in the Reductionist class. “This should be easy to deduce. I know that when I made a Novice-ranked ritual, it gave me twenty-five experience. How do I extrapolate two hundred out of twenty-five? Novice times four? Nope, I would only be one hundred. Twenty-five to the fourth? That’s… big no. Doubling? Twenty-five, fifty, one hundred, two hundred. That works this time, I guess I will have to make more things and see if it is correct every time.”
+100 DE. Congratulations! Since you have found hidden information without going through a tutorial to learn it, a portion of the cost of the tutorial has been granted to your main deity as Divine Energy! Normally this is not a message you would see, but as you have a quest to gain Divine Energy for your deity, you have been granted access.
“Got experience as a Reductionist for making and activating the ritual, as a Rituarchitect for taking down the wall.” Joe read the message and realized that he had not looked at his quest to help out Tatum in months. Still, there was only one actionable piece of information he could take away from it. “I think that notification proved that doubling was correct. Going in the notes!”
Chapter Twenty-Four
The Dwarves had made a tactical retreat in preparation of charging, and the Elven defenders were frantically attempting to destroy whatever was obliterating their walls. Since the ritual diagram had literally been buried inside the very walls that it was destroying, they were having no luck disrupting the source. Every few minutes, another ten feet of wall was returned to its component state, forming neat stacks of stone and metal outside of the fortress so that the Elves couldn’t even use the material as projectiles.
Ten minutes, half an hour, an hour later… and the call to charge went up. In just a few minutes, the ritual diagram would be exposed, and the Elves would likely destroy it immediately. A stream of silver-clad soldiers charged forward. As soon as they started moving, Joe swore he saw a Dwarf slap a fireball to the side with a Warhammer, once more making Joe wonder what sort of enchantments they had access to.
The human was in the center of the formation, yet even so, he stuck out like a sore thumb due to his height. Joe was at least a feet taller than even the tallest Dwarf, and that fact made him an easy target for Elven aggression. Every inch of ground he trod on was bombarded with concentrated arrows and spells filled with both mana and deadly intent.
With their enemy’s fire focused on him—literally, in some cases—another platoon of Dwarves was able to flank the defenders that had lost the height advantage in every way that mattered. Bursts of light came from every Elf in their path as repeated melee strikes popped their shields like soap bubbles. By the time Joe reached the much-diminished wall, the initial path was clear. Joe felt overwhelming relief that this was going so well. “Stage one complete. Gotta get halfway-”
It was then that Joe noticed that the fortress was retreating into the distance. He, along with all the other Dwarves, were sprinting straight at it, but their target never seemed to get any closer. As soon as his conscious mind made that realization, he blinked and felt his eyes clear. Whatever had been overlaying his vision vanished, and he saw that roughly half of the Dwarves that had been running with him were now on the ground, ‘running’ as if they were in a dream. Their legs were twitching, but they were being trampled by the other members of the Legion that had not been caught by the illusion.
The interior of the Fortress was heavily trapped, showcased by the front ranks of Dwarves tumbling right through the ‘ground’ and into a spiked pit where they were torn apart by animated plants clearly controlled by Elven magic. One of the platoon leaders pulled out a small compact mirror and crushed it in his hand. He threw the resulting glass powder into the space where the Dwarves had fallen, and the pit became clearly visible. “Mental illusions and soft light illusions… watch your step! Make sure you know the ally next to you; the cheeky brats like to use personal glamour while we are watching the environment!”
Half of the Dwarves were punched in the face by their brethren, and were punched back in kind. Anyone who didn't bleed, but instead had stopped the fist with a magical barrier, was immediately beaten into the ground and sent to respawn. Every time, an Elven body was revealed as soon as their health hit zero. Joe was only spared this treatment reluctantly, when he reminded them that he was a human mage.
Every few steps forward set off another attack of some kind; whether it was getting shot at, spells flying toward them, glamoured assassins… but finally, they were almost to the inner walls of the keep. Joe motioned and shouted to the platoon leader to get his attention, “We’re already closer than we need to be! Set up a defensive perimeter, and I’ll activate the ritual immediately!”
The Dwarves cleared a space directly in front of Joe, and with a simple hip thrust, a huge stone disc slammed onto the ground out of his spatial codpiece. Joe placed a hand on the ritual he had laid out and allowed his mana to flow into it, activating a single glowing ring at a time. It exhausted his mana supply, but soon the ritual was spinning up. Joe had been concerned that he would not be able to catch enough Elves in the area actively casting spells, but he had underestimated the Elves’ dedication to protecting their new fortress.
Class experience gained (Reductionist): 100.
The shields that were raised in order to protect him were deflecting fire, snakes of liquid darkness, and beams of light that often managed to go right through the shield and damage the Dwarf holding it. The ground around them began to writhe as the plants in their encirclement were targeted for spells such as Control Roots, Overgrowth, and Plant Detonation. The sapping aspect of the ritual came into full effect, latching onto anyone casting a spell and beginning to drain them. It wasn't powerful enough to take everything they had, but the draw was enough to deplete their mana regeneration capabilities. Most of the Elves didn't even notice… at least not fast enough to do anything about it.
The spells came thick and fast, boiling the air and sending Dwarf after Dwarf to respawn. Then, a strange shift occurred as the spells began to just… peter off. There was a strange lull in the battle as the Elves began to panic and the Dwarves began to chuckle expectantly. Joe looked down, checking the ground for any signs that
the ritual was affecting the plant life in the area. Everything appeared to be normal until he swiped his hand across the grass.
The small green blades moved along with his hand, fluttering into the air and leaving a streak of dirt on the ground where he had touched. All of the weeds in the area had lost their root system, and someone had noticed Joe motion. “Bro! Dudes and Dudettes! Magic Bro Joe did it! Cha~a~arge!”
His new moniker was taken up as a war cry, which made Joe’s teeth ache, but he wasn't about to tell three-hundred-pound Dwarves coated in two hundred pounds of metal armor and carrying eighty pound weapons to stop… much of anything, really. He was just going to go ahead and let the Legion call him whatever they wanted to; so long as it kept them smiling at him.
The Dwarves flowed around Joe as if he were a rock in the center of a river, realizing that the human’s part had been played. He followed along, as there was nothing left for him to do here; the ritual was self-sustaining, and he really wanted to see the Guardian of this small fortress. The hard work was being done by his Dwarven comrades, and the only time he saw an Elf was when it was peeking down from a rooftop to send a deadly weapon or effect toward him… or laying on the ground, already sent to respawn.
A thunderous *crash* rang out as Havoc made his glorious return to the battlefield, destroying the portcullis and wooden gate at the front of the small fort with a single attack and a scream of frustration. “She got away! Abyss it, Francine! Legion! Slaughter everyone; tear this place down to the smallest stone! Leave only a single survivor so that they can spread the truth that their Commander happily abandons them when a single titled Noble arrives on the scene! They fear one? Wait until the Legion marches as a whole!”
Lord of Slaughter II has taken effect! The leader of the enemy troops in the area has abandoned their post. None can stand against you, and few will even try! All original effects increased by 5%. Elven morale has hit its lowest point. There's a 50% chance that your enemies will flee before you!
Joe allowed the Dwarves to go in first, as their physical stats and chances of survival were much higher than his own. He did not even have a proper weapon yet, since Havoc had said they would need to ‘visit a friend of his’ before they could find something ‘just right’. Joe took a moment to check his status sheet, though he knew that not much had changed.
Name: Joe ‘Tatum’s Chosen Legend’ Class: Reductionist
Profession I: Arcanologist (Max)
Profession II: Ritualistic Alchemist (1/20)
Profession III: None
Character Level: 19 Exp: 192,704 Exp to next level: 17,296
Rituarchitect Level: 10 Exp: 45,000 Exp debt: 9,600
Reductionist Level: 0 Exp: 476 Exp to next level: 524
Hit Points: 1,573/1,573
Mana: 1,336/2,152
Mana regen: 44.55/sec
Stamina: 898/1337
Stamina regen: 6.36/sec
Characteristic: Raw score
Strength: 129
Dexterity: 129
Constitution: 125
Intelligence: 138
Wisdom: 118
Dark Charisma: 80
Perception: 118
Luck: 60
Karmic Luck: 8
Joe was pulled from his introspection by a metal-clad hand grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around. He came face-to-face with Havoc; he had never seen the Dwarf have such a red face. He couldn't be sure, but Joe was almost positive that the Dwarf was close to weeping. However, he would never be able to tell behind those thick, reflective goggles the Dwarf wore at all times. Havoc was breathing heavily, gripping on to Joe so tightly that his Exquisite Shell was taking damage and starting to crack.
“If you ever… and I mean ever… run into Francine… you kill her, Joe. You do everything you can to kill her immediately.” Havoc’s voice was ragged as he shook his mentee. “You remember this, human. If by some terrible chance, those Elves win this war, and Francine is not back by my side… all you will find remaining of me or my research lab is a crater. I will be with her, one way or another.”
Mandatory Quest gained!
Chapter Twenty-Five
Quest gained: Living Revenge of the Fallen. Major General Havoc has issued a mandatory quest for you. He believes that the Elven Mage known as ‘Elfreeda’ is his lost ‘Francine’. Although there is no way for him to prove this, there are characteristics that lead him to believe that slaying this Elf would bring ‘Francine’ back to the Dwarven Oligarchy. If you encounter the Elf ‘Elfreeda’ and do not make an attempt on her life, Havoc will have nothing to do with you from that point forward. Rewards: Maximum reputation gained with Havoc. Potential asset for the Dwarven Oligarchy. Failure: Havoc destroys himself and everything that he can take with him.
Joe felt a pounding headache coming on. “I knew that I should not have read that quest right now. I abyssal knew it, and did it anyway.”
Havoc entered the fortress, practically dragging Joe along with him. The Dwarves that had entered beforehand seem to have run into a stalemate, not able to move forward, not able to retreat without being attacked. The Elves were hurling insults as barbed as their arrows, “Ay, it's getting pretty friggin’ short out there.”
“If you were wicked smart like we ah’, you'd go hang out in your own place! We cannot live under the same sky!”
“Look at these chowdaheads; they don't know the immensity of heaven an’ earth! Beat it in the amount of time it takes an incense stick to burn, or we’re gonna bust ya down!”
“It'll take a whole lotta time to describe what I'm going to do to ya, but it's going to happen in an instant, shorty!”
Havoc's goggles reflected the sight in front of him, though Joe could have sworn that the reflection was on fire. “Get those automatons up here! I can't do everything for you, ya lazy metal-shelled layabouts! Are you going to let walls stop you?”
“Nah, Major General Bro!”
“I got this; I'm going to use my head!” One of the Dwarves bull-rushed the stone wall and slammed his helmeted head into the structure, leaving a surprisingly large dent but rendering the Dwarf insensible.
For his part, Joe stepped forward and coated the wall with a generous amount of acid. The next Dwarves that slammed themselves bodily into the wall tore out larger chunks, but Havoc's voice made them hold back from continuing. “For celestial’s sake, at least use your warhammers!”
It was a war of attrition at this point; the Elves behind the barricade continued to shape stone and call upon their spells to refill anything that was damaged or destroyed. The Dwarves didn't mind, didn't slow, and cheerfully slammed the reforming wall to pieces. With Joe's ritual still draining the mana from anyone who cast a spell, the wall was being reformed slower… slower. By the time the automatons had arrived on scene, there was already a Dwarf-shaped opening ready and waiting.
The battering rams that the automaton had used to take chunks out of the outer wall had shifted configurations once more. Now they were using pickaxes placed on a gyroscopic circuit. Every hit simply caused another pick to swing up and over, and in mere minutes, the defenses were gone and the Dwarves rolled over the few remaining Elves before confronting the Guardian.
Joe wasn't sure what he should have been expecting, but the interior of the keep itself was filled with plant life, the walls were made of living wood, and the carpet was lush grass. In the center of the building stood a massive sunflower, a plant that the Dwarves all regarded with great hesitation. Joe heard one of the platoon leaders mutter, “Celestial feces, how did they get a Daisy Duke in here in under a day?”
“Isn't that a sunflower?” Joe felt that his question had merit, since it looked exactly how one would expect a sunflower to appear.
“Nah, bro.” A mustachioed Dwarf slapped him roughly on the shoulder, getting a slap in return from Joe’s shadow. It only made the Dwarf chuckle, which was why Joe kept the retaliatory effect on at all times. “Every fort has a different guardian; the Elves can't figure
out how to standardize anything! Whenever we have the fortress, we make our guardian modular, and upgrade it. They use different plants every single time, even if they recapture the same fortress! That's a Daisy Duke. Just wait, you'll see.”
The Dwarves were taking no chances; the front line pulled out metal rods that Joe had not yet seen in action, activating them all in sequence. Joe flinched backward as flames erupted from the tips of the metal rods, filling the space with an inferno. Enchanted rods as flamethrowers? Though the fire only reached roughly fifteen feet in whatever direction it was pointed, it was enough to ignite any of the plant life that it came in contact with.
The effects of Joe’s ritual could also be seen. The initial wave of flames had caused most of the smaller smoldering plants, which had lost their roots, to lift up and flutter through the room, quickly creating a wildfire that spread rapidly. Elves that were hiding within the strange underbrush started to screech, giving away their position to the Legion, who took the initiative to send them to respawn.
As the sweeping fire reached the base of the Guardian, which Joe was definitely going to continue calling a sunflower, the top of the plant started to swivel. The flower, which had been facing the sky through the open ceiling, turned to face them. Instead of standard flower fluff, an actual face was glaring out at all of the Dwarves and Joe: golden cat eyes, bright teeth, and a roar generating enough wind force that a few Dwarves had to grab Joe to keep him from lifting off the ground.
“Abyss! It's not a Daisy Duke!” Havoc shouted at the others, “Get ready for a serious fight! They didn't use a flower here; they used a weed! It's a Dandy Lion!”
At that moment, Joe noticed a small top hat nestled away in the flower fluff, or mane, of the Guardian. “It's a weed? That would at least explain why it hasn't fallen over yet; weeds tend to have stronger root systems than standard plants. It has to be weakened, though!”
