I shook my head. “It requires more ingredients than just fish, and we don’t—” I stopped abruptly and smacked my forehead. “Damn, you’re right! Let’s go.” I put a hand on her shoulder and teleported us directly to the inn’s kitchen.
“Shadow Lord?” Gandork, the fat goblin cook, blinked as the two of us suddenly appeared in his kitchen. A group of goblin workers was busily running around stirring pots, adding ingredients, and one was even climbing on a high spice rack.
“Gandork,” I said excitedly. “What goes into your Seasoned Fish dish?”
“Vegetables and fish,” he said, perplexed.
I rubbed my hands together. “Excellent.”
I brought up the Global Economy Interface and looked for the ingredient, finding it in just a few seconds. One of the hamlets we’d conquered, Turniphill, offered 100 units of gathered ingredients for 20 gold. With 100 fish offered cheapest for 80 gold by Whitebanner, it meant I could import the ingredient for half the cost it took to bring in the prepared food itself. I could double the yield for the same amount of gold.
I sent out my thoughts. Kaedric, tell Yeshy that instead of importing 600 units of advanced food every day, I want him to bring in 1,200 fish and 1,200 gathered ingredients. Have Gandork cook them into advanced food. That was a lot of food, but luckily, our cook’s upgraded kitchen would be able to handle that much.
I smiled at my daughter. “Lirian, you’re a genius.”
She smiled back at me. “I learned from the best.”
With the new food surplus, I’d be able to summon 1,000 soldiers in less than two weeks.
Our move against Everance was within sight.
***
I spent several minutes teleport-hopping between our conquered settlements that didn’t have a portal yet and opened one in their local churches. That should expedite troop movements, I thought as I took the last portal back to the valley.
With the immediate issues taken care of, I had almost two whole days for myself before I had to attend my follow-up meeting with Crowley.
Time for personal improvement. I teleported into the Warlock’s Tower library and sat down at one of the desks, ignoring an Ogre Mage who seemed comically captivated by the spellbook he was reading.
I was still level 63, but I had the means to skyrocket my level with energy points. Getting to level 100 was a major milestone that granted characters a unique ability tailored to them. I was still missing about half a million EP before I’d be able to purchase that level, and I was reluctant to spend so much in one go. I needed to maintain enough energy in reserve to resurrect my growing army if needed and raise the level of certain individuals.
Dark Mana, my most important skill, was at level 81, 20 points short of reaching the Master rank. Raising skills was much cheaper than raising character levels, but I needed my Mental attribute to reach a score of 91 to raise the cap for Dark Mana to Master rank of 101.
I grinned when I realized something. I didn’t need to reach level 100. My Mental ability score was 78, so I only needed to gain 13 levels to reach a Mental score of 91. Buying 13 levels would be significantly cheaper than the 37 required to reach level 100, especially since each level’s cost increased exponentially.
I cracked my fingers and accessed the Settlement Interface.
Level Increase: 63 → 76. XP Required: 185,920 Cost: 265,590 EP
(708,924 EP available)
Confirm: Yes/No
Why not? I had an important meeting with some dangerous individuals in Everance, and making myself stronger could come in handy. Besides, I needed time to work out a new Master-ranked spell, which fit right into the downtime I now had.
I approved the prompt.
Raw energy coursed through my veins as my level soared. I gritted my teeth at the rush of power so strong it almost hurt. But it was the good kind of hurt. My mana pool increased by 2,000 points and my health pool by nearly 500. The goblin inside me purred and raged in equal measures with exhilaration, and I felt ready to take on an entire army on my own.
The event didn’t escape the notice of the nearby studious Ogre and he stared at me in bewilderment, then quickly lowered his head back to his book, as if afraid I’d tear it off him. It was probably a smart move.
Level up! You have reached Character Level 76. You have 13 ability points to allocate.
I dumped all the ability points into Mental, reaching the goal of 91.
I turned my attention to the still-open Energy Interface and targeted myself again.
Skill Increase: Dark Mana 81 → 101. Cost: 170,880 EP (X 10 for spell school skill)
(443,334 EP available)
Confirm: Yes/No
The cost was a bit more than I’d anticipated – having forgotten that as a spell governing skill, Dark Mana cost ten times more than normal skills to increase.
Had I not already made the larger purchase of levels I probably would have canceled the skill upgrade. Spending the extra energy would bring my clan’s total down to about a quarter-million, and we needed more than 300,000 to resurrect the entire army. But I was already committed. I also needed time to work on a new spell. I consoled myself with the knowledge that my clan’s daily energy yield would bring the threshold over half a million in just two days. It was a risk worth taking.
I approved the cost and felt my mana soar even higher.
Dark Mana skill has reached Master rank!
● All spells under this spell school have gained Master-rank abilities.
● The extra duration for the first mana-channeling multiplier is revoked.
I grinned from ear to ear.
I’d expected the first bonus, but not the second. Currently, I could charge any of my Dark Mana-based spells to increase their effectiveness up to three times. Normally, the process took a lot of time and was more useful as a combat opening move than during the heat of battle. The last multiplier, a unique tier 4 boss ability, took even longer and froze me in place until completed. But it seemed like I could now cast a double-charged spell in the same amount of time it would take to cast the normal version. The only difference was the mana cost, and with my mana pool now over 12,000, that wasn’t even a downside.
I opened my character sheet and went through every spell under Dark Mana to check their new abilities.
Drilling Arrow
Master rank: Barriers penetration 100%.
Mana Shield
Master rank: No longer hampers movement.
Mana Drain
Master rank: 100% chance for interrupting spells being cast.
Mana Infusion
Master rank: Mana infuses your weapon as well, enhancing your melee attacks.
Direball
Master rank: Damage distribution consistent through the entire area of the spell’s effect.
The increase to all spells was incredible, especially Direball, which would now damage everyone caught by the explosion to the same degree. But the impact on Mana Infusion was completely unexpected. I had to try it out.
“Hey, you,” I said to the studious Ogre as I got up from the chair.
He bowed his head to me. “Chief?”
“Raise your mana shield.” I withdrew the Demon Staff from my inventory. “I want to try something.”
The hulking brute stared at me apprehensively but did as I commanded. A shimmering blue dome extended around his heavy bulk. It was a decent Apprentice-ranked spell, one that would soak up roughly 150 points of damage from each impact. The Ogre boss’s mana pool of 463 meant he should be able to eat up about 600 points of damage before his shield collapsed.
Good enough for now.
I cast Mana Infusion and felt the rush of power surge through my muscles. The spear-staff that already felt comfortable in my hands now felt like an extension of myself. I twirled it in a circle between my fingers, making it blur.
I grinned. “Ready?”
The Ogre nodded nervously.
I launched my
spear forward. The Epic weapon, made even more formidable by the runes I’d enchanted, easily tore through the shield, draining 200 mana points from the Ogre. I controlled the weapon, so it didn’t reach the Ogre’s skin then pulled it back and whirled it for two more consecutive thrusts. The entire maneuver took barely a second. I kept the weapon twirling at standby as the Ogre’s shield collapsed into magical shards.
My grin broadened. Oh yeah, I can do spear kung-fu.
The Ogre bowed deeply. “Chief is a powerful warrior as well, it seems.”
“Thanks for the assistance,” I said. I deactivated Mana Infusion and returned to my seat. Now came the hard part.
I closed my eyes in concentration and regulated my breaths. I was trying to relearn one of the Master-ranked combat spells I’d invented in my previous life. I hadn’t tried something like that since relearning Direball when my clan was attacked by my old guildmates. The spell I had in mind was basically a super-condensed sphere of mana that shot forward at incredible velocity, destroying everything in its path. It could tear through enchanted armor, walls, or entire buildings with ease. Only higher-level spellcasters could hope to raise a defense against it. For most others, you either dodged, or you got turned into a bloody mist.
Still concentrating, I turned my palms upward and let my mana pour out of me and it coalesced into a slowly rotating sphere. Concentrating deeper, I made the mana denser, forcing it into a small bead, then fed more mana while keeping it condensed. I repeated the sequence again and again until I felt my reserves bottoming out. I’d never been able to condense so much mana into the spell before; a normal player couldn’t hope to reach the same amount a boss monster could.
Something was wrong, though. The unstoppable sphere I was hoping to create felt different. A whoosh of air rushed through the room around me, causing mild turbulence. I opened my eyes in alarm and realized the condensed black sphere that hovered above my palm seemed to suck in the air. The sphere continued to swirl and rotate, and I started to feel a tangible pull drawing me toward it. A few loose papers soared through the air and got swallowed into the sphere, then I felt the desk below me starting to rise.
I hastily canceled the spell.
You have learned a new spell: Singularity
You compress darkness into a mass so dense it has a gravitational pull of its own.
When initially formed, the spell’s pull is weak, but it grows exponentially as it consumes more matter. Can only consume mundane, unenchanted materials.
Living creatures may attempt to resist the pull, but if caught, they are held suspended until the spell expires.
Cost: 2,000 MP (empowering the spell reduces the time it takes to reach full effect)
Duration: 101 seconds (1 second per skill level)
I felt my jaw drop as I stared at the new spell’s description. Back then, as a player with the Mana Mastery skill, the method I’d just used would have manifested my old spell. Instead, as a creature of darkness wielding dark mana, it looked like I’d just created a thing of nightmares. I could already imagine casting the spell at the heart of Everance, vaporizing whole buildings, and sucking in entire platoons before the spell’s duration expired.
I felt too pleased with myself to let Vic’s antics get a rise out of me. Instead, I yawned, realizing it was late in the day. Hours had gone by without me realizing it as I concentrated on developing my new spell. The helpful Ogre was long gone. With a shrug, I teleported back to my home and my waiting spouse.
***
I awoke the next day with a new purpose.
My meeting with Crowley, the crime lord, was tomorrow. With a little luck, the results would lead to the very first strike on Everance. I wanted to make sure we were going to be ready for the full assault that would follow. Since Akzar’s forces were going to play a big part in the coming battle, I wanted to make sure they’d be ready. A visit was in order.
Lirian wanted to join me, so after we had breakfast with Tika, the two of us went to the cathedral and took the portal to Akzar.
“Shadow Lord, welcome!” Reiner, the bearded goblin boss, greeted me as I passed through the shimmering portal. He looked to be in much better spirits than normal. It might have had something to do with the huge cathedral being filled to the brim with new worshipers.
As the goblin approached, his expression suddenly fell, becoming almost fearful, and he stumbled in his step.
I winced, realizing I had let loose the full force of my tier 4 aura, and quickly drew it back around me. Back at the clan, I didn’t have to worry about it too much, but it made a jarring impact on people experiencing it for the first time. “Looks like things have picked up since I was last here,” I said.
“Oh, yes.” The elderly goblin smiled, quickly recovering. “Not being considered enemies of the city has vastly improved our situation. The goblin workers can roam around freely, and more people come to worship our dark master. Even a few travelers came through earlier to explore the city.”
“They did?” I asked, mildly surprised. “Well, good for them. I need to talk to Ra’av, do you know where—” I stopped when Reiner visibly flinched. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, it’s nothing, dreaded Shadow Lord. The new mayor is usually at one of the three barracks. He has a particular interest in … ahem … combat readiness.”
“Well, that’s good,” I said. “I’ll see you later.”
I left the cathedral and found myself in the main boulevard that circled the entire length of the outer ring. Everywhere I looked, armed soldiers were patrolling, their posture impeccable and their armor polished to a shine.
“It looks different than last time,” Lirian remarked.
I nodded. “They had a strong military presence before, and it looks more aggressive now.”
“Where do we go from here?”
“The main barracks is just across the street.” I pointed at the four-story building. It was the same place I’d been hurled into after being captured on my first visit. The same place I’d later returned to challenge The Champion, to serve as a distraction to eliminate the city’s leadership.
As we approached the large building, two rows of soldiers exited, running at a steady jog toward us. They spread out, forming a guarded passageway toward the main entrance.
Then another person came out of the door. He was immediately noticeable for his different physique; powerful arms that ended with cruel-looking claws, bright orange eyes, and a scorpion tail that followed behind. This was Ra’av, my appointed mayor. He seemed to have gained several levels since we’d last met.
“Greetings, my lord,” the scorpion-tailed hob said with a bow.
“Ra’av,” I greeted him, looking around at the soldiers. “I came to check on Akzar’s readiness. Looks like you’ve done a fine job preparing the city for war.
“Oh, yes.” He gave me a grim smile. “Allow me a demonstration.”
Before waiting for my approval, he made a gesture with his hand, and the two rows of soldiers turned toward us, drawing their weapons as one cohesive unit. I tensed up at the unexpected move. Ra’av exuded a sinister aura that perfectly matched his more monstrous appearance. As a warning, I let loose the restraints I’d put on my boss aura. One of the soldiers staggered in his statuelike position.
“Incompetent fool!” Ra’av hissed. The scorpion-hearted noble whirled toward the unlucky soldier, his tail launching over his head with the speed of a crossbow bolt. The stinger easily sank through the soldier’s chest armor and into his flesh. It was yanked back an instant later with a spray of burning orange liquid. The soldier screamed, his eyes horrified as he fell to the ground, spasming and wailing.
“What’s going on?” I demanded, raising my staff with one hand and conjuring a direball with the other.
Ra’av motioned for t
wo soldiers who promptly picked up the screaming hob and whisked him away. Then he turned and bowed to me. “My apologies, my lord. There is no room for laxness in my city. The soldiers train hard to excel or they are punished. That one will never repeat the same mistake. Once he recovers, that is.”
I relaxed my guarded stance. “That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?”
The hob’s orange eyes glowed as he looked at me. “The average level of soldiers in the city has risen to 20. In addition, despite the unavoidable casualties, the resources I’ve diverted toward the militia helped swell our fighting force from 2,400 to 2,700, and I expect to reach 3,000 within a week.”
I felt my jaw drop at that. “You managed that much already?”
“Yes, my lord.” The hob offered me a satisfied, grim smile. “There is no room for tenderness when forging a powerful force. Harsh conditions produce strong warriors.”
“I guess I can’t argue with results,” I said. I sent a probing tendril of mana toward his mind to get a sense of his emotion. I got back a sea of cruelty and a strong determination to achieve his goals at all costs. I shuddered a little as I drew back. I couldn’t go to the lengths this hob did. My clan felt like my family, and there was a limit to what I was willing to do. But Ra’av’s approach seemed to be working well with a hobgoblin city. I felt confident I’d appointed the right hob for the task.
“Well, if there’s nothing else,” I said and turned to leave.
“Actually, there is,” a familiar voice called out.
I looked toward the barracks’ courtyard and saw a familiar thin hob approaching. It was Glaive, the arena master.
“Hello again, Chief.” The hob grinned at me. “I haven’t had the chance to congratulate you on conquering our city.”
Life Reset: Salvation (Life Reset - Neo Book 6) Page 10