by Aaron Oster
The Feline staggered back with a cry of surprise, and Talia’s hammer turned his head into a bloody pulp.
Level Up!
Congratulations, you have reached level 18. You now have 5 new Attribute Points to allocate.
“Finally,” Arthur groaned, sagging against the wall and panting hard.
Leveling against the guards had been far harder than he’d first imagined. They weren’t simple grunts, and it took a good deal of effort to take them down, not to mention that the XP that the opponents gave was far less than one would expect. Hopps was still level 17, while Talia was level 19 and getting close to 20.
The problem was that their window of opportunity was closing. They had another hour, perhaps two, before his self-imposed time limit came to an end, and the only one even close to level 20 was Talia.
This would have to be their last fight. As improbable as success might be at this point, they only had two options. One would be to leave, flee the city, and hope the Baron simply forgot about them. And the other was to remain and fight. The time for training was over. If they were going to fight someone who was potentially five to seven levels above their own, they would need the remaining time to rest and recover.
Arthur had exactly fifteen attribute points, meaning if he sank everything into Agility, he’d be able to wield the Poniard. Then again, now that he was level 18, new Class options would be open to him. Not that he planned to take any of them, but it wouldn’t hurt to look and see what he was working with.
“Tell me about it,” Talia said, slumping to the floor as well.
All three of them were exhausted. Not as tired as the Baron would be if Arthur’s theory was correct, but none of them had gotten more than eight hours of sleep in the last two days. They would have an hour to rest now and another hour to make their way to the Baron’s panic room.
There was still a single patrol of guards left in the palace, but Arthur doubted they would run into them. The manor was huge, meaning that the only remaining patrol would be guarding the perimeter, making sure no hostile forces entered the grounds. It should be a clear shot to the Baron.
“You think we can take him?” Talia asked, leaning her head back against the stone wall, her chest heaving.
“Maybe. Maybe not,” Arthur replied, staring up at the ceiling as well. “Guess we’ll just have to find out, won’t we?”
“What’s with all the pessimism?” Hopps demanded. “We’ll butcher that bloody wanker, and then I’ll shit on his corpse!”
“Woah! Getting a little dark there, bud,” Arthur said, a little shocked at the venom in his normally jovial friend’s voice.
“That bastard ordered my parents to be killed. He’s going to pay for that with his life, not that it’ll make up for my dad…”
He trailed off then with a loud sigh, leaning against one of the walls, as well. Arthur looked to his left, where the corpses of the guards were already starting to smell, or maybe it was just his imagination. Either way, sitting in a hallway with a bunch of corpses wasn’t what he would call relaxing.
With a groan, he forced himself back to his feet, knuckling his lower back. His body was still sore but feeling much better after two days of fighting and a couple of levels.
“Let’s start heading towards the Baron’s panic room. We can pick up our items on the way,” he said as he finished stretching.
Talia gave him a halfhearted glare but forced herself to her feet as well. None of them were looking forward to the fight ahead, but they all knew it was necessary. They weren’t going to run, so fighting was their only option. They could, of course, go after the guards on the outside, but there would be the risk of the Baron finding out where they were.
Arthur felt his resolve firm as he remembered the devastated village, what the Baron had put him through, and what he’d done to White. The sadistic bastard deserved a thousand deaths for all he’d done. For all the innocents he’d had killed over the years. They had him cornered, and there was no way he was going to make it out of this alive!
39
Class Options
Tier 1: Thief, Tank, Fighter
Tier 2: Rogue, Boxer, Kicker, Poisoner
Tier 3: Poisonmaster, Daggermaster, Stealthmaster, Monk
Tier 4: Assassin, Martial Sage, Stealth Sage, Sensemaster
Checking out the Tier 4 Classes, Arthur thought they looked super awesome. The Assassin Class he’d been looking for had finally shown up. He’d been wondering why he hadn’t been offered one yet, but it seemed that Assassin was reserved for those who had the strength to wait until level 18 before making their Class selection.
Even the names of the Classes sounded cool, and despite how tempted he was to just look at what they offered, Arthur closed the Class Options tab. He knew that in his current predicament, one of the Classes might tempt him, and he would accept, out of pragmatism, if nothing else.
Drilling Blows had broken through to the next stage over the past couple of days, though Sixth Sense remained stubbornly at level 10. It seemed that his Perception skill being at level 100 was throwing off his growth in that skill, though he would still progress if he performed a perfect dodge.
Opening his status, he poured all fifteen points into Agility. He would have preferred to balance it out a bit more, but he would need to be able to wield his dagger, as the Epic weapon would give him a good boost to damage. He then looked over his status to note the changes.
Character Status
Name: Arthur
Race: Humanoid - Poison Frog
Class: None
Level: 18
XP: 260/18,000
AP: 0
Survivability
HP: 170/170
MP: 200/200
STA: 370/370
Armor Rating: 6
Attributes
Strength - 5
Constitution - 17
Endurance - 37
Agility - 65 (+15)
Intelligence - 20 (Base: 10)
Wisdom - 20 (Base: 10)
Charisma - 12
Luck - 10
Skills
7/8
Unarmed Frog-Bat: Level 14
Perception: Level 100 (Max)
Knife Wielding: Level 12
Acrobatics: Level 13
Critical Strike: Level 11
Sixth Sense (A): Level 10
Truth-Seer: Level 100 (Max)
Abilities
5/8
Tae-Frog-Do: Level 13
Frog Slicer: Level 7
Parry: Level 4
Frog-Sassinate: Level 7
Drilling Blows: Level 11
Racial Bonus
Poison Touch: Tier 2
Spring: Tier 2
The All-Seer eye he’d implanted in his ruined right eye socket had given him a significant boost, not only maxing-out two skills but also increasing both his Intelligence and Wisdom. He’d already seen a notable increase in his ability to fight, using not only his body but his mind as well.
He’d also been offered new skills and abilities far more than he had before. It seemed that the increase in his Wisdom was responsible for that. The increased Intelligence also gave his MP a massive boost, doubling his previous total. Now he could use his Poison Touch without reserve during a fight.
His armor rating was now at 6, as he’d donned the cloak on their way to the Baron’s panic room. It wasn’t great by any means, and he knew he’d have to get some better armor, but it was better than nothing.
“Do we have a battle plan for the Baron?” Talia asked as he closed his status.
Arthur shrugged.
“I can’t say that I do. I don’t know what his fighting style will be. All I know is that he’s strong and will present a significant challenge. We can try to have Hopps tie him up, then the two of us can move in and hit him hard. That’s the best I’ve really got for now.”
Talia nodded, looking grim.
“Guess that’s as good a plan as any.”
Talia
took a right turn and began heading up a staircase covered in rich maroon carpeting. This was the first sign of any decoration they’d come across, which Arthur took to mean that they were getting closer to the Baron.
The staircase was long and twisting and had several landings with lavishly carved doors at each one. The more he saw, the more Arthur felt his disgust for the Baron mounting. While the city was living in squalor and Intelligents and ani-humans of all Races were being trodden underfoot, he was living in the lap of luxury.
“This is it,” Talia said as they reached the top of the staircase.
Before them stood a door that looked much like the others, with a single exception – this one was made of solid steel instead of wood.
“How are we supposed to get in?” Arthur asked.
“Yeah, we’re not ghosts or anything, so we can’t phase through walls,” Hopps piped up. “Wait…are we really ghosts? Have we been dead this entire time?”
The frog looked down at himself and began waving one of his forelimbs before his eyes.
“For someone with such a high Intelligence score, you’re remarkably dense,” Talia said dryly. “And, to answer your question,” she continued, pulling the massive hammer from her back. “I thought we’d knock.”
***
Baron Clive Von Felidae was used to having things go his way. Ever since the new regime, he’d flourished, and the Felines of Raya had prospered. Sure, the lesser Races had been trodden down, but they were trash, hardly worthy of the air they breathed. But he knew they were necessary, so he allowed them to live in the outskirts of the city, living in squalor, while the Felines lived in luxury.
He’d made sure to constantly raid the surrounding villages and take random people off the streets to fight in the pits. This way, no one from the scum would feel safe, and the fear that they might be taken away would keep them from revolting. This also helped the Felines believe in their own minds that they were superior over the other Races.
It had been hard in the beginning, but over time, he’d slowly swayed the others to his way of thinking. The older generation still didn’t completely believe it, while the younger generation – those born in the last twenty or so years – believed it with every fiber of their beings.
Raya hadn’t been the only city to be subjected to this, but it was one of the more successful ones, as befitted a border city. They had to show strength and be merciless. That was why, when whispers of a rebellion had reached his ears from a seedy but trusted source, he’d sent Boris to destroy them all.
He’d had to call in for help to take out the leaders of the rebellion, and it had cost him several hundred platinum, but the service was well worth it. The leader had been killed, and his wife had been captured. She’d been shipped away, as he had no use for her, but he was sure that someone would, and the King always appreciated gifts. He especially loved gifts that were from traitors against the Feline Empire.
They also had plans. These plans would change the very face of the Animal Kingdom. Everything had been going smoothly, up until that upstart frog had shown up. The Rat had brought him in as a prisoner, he’d heard. This prisoner had apparently killed a few of his guards. Then he’d been sent to the pits to die, like the filth he was.
But instead of dying like he was supposed to, he slaughtered the three Felines who were set to be his executioners. While creatures had died in the pits before, none had ever been Felines. They always made sure to pit the stronger fighters against stronger opponents, and if they were too strong, they’d send non-Feline opponents until they were weakened enough that a Feline could finish them.
But Arthur had taken them by surprise, moving too quickly for anyone to intervene. And the way he’d killed those three… It was brutal and gruesome. It had cost Clive a fortune to hush that up and many assurances, as well as planted evidence, to keep the Felines believing that they were superior.
The frog had been punished for that by being forced to watch the deaths of others. There was another reason for that, as well. He’d needed to find someone strong enough to kill Arthur, and he’d needed to allow the memory to fade from the minds of his citizens, all while feeding them lies about the Felines who’d died.
So, by the time the second fight came around, they were all convinced it was a fluke. Or so he’d hoped. But then, Arthur had dived right in and nearly killed their wild cousin. And that was when things had really gotten bad.
Even though he called for a fight with the Champion and assured his people once more, word had somehow gotten into the lower city. News that not one, but several Felines, had been bested. This caused rioting in the streets, guards being attacked, and armories being looted.
He’d been forced to dispatch more patrols to put down the rioting, enforce a curfew, and perform several public executions. He’d thought that would be the worst of it, up until Raucus was killed.
Never in a million years would he have expected the Champion to die. But that wasn’t the worst part yet. There seemed to have been enemies in the crowd: non-Felines who’d somehow made it into the inner ring and the arena without being detected. Rebels.
When the fight had ended, they’d attacked. It wasn’t just in the arena, either. From reports he’d been receiving, attacks happened simultaneously throughout the city, with powerful people appearing to tie up the stronger guards.
He’d immediately fled to his panic room and shut himself in, only taking reports that were slipped in under the door. Sure, it was uncomfortable not to have servants around to do everything for him, but at least he’d be safe. He’d had this room built to the standards that one would expect from nobility as well, so he would ride this rebellion out in comfort.
Sure, things were looking a bit grim, and despite his self-assurance, he hadn’t slept in the last couple of days. But it would all be over soon. He’d dispatched nearly his entire force, over fifteen hundred soldiers, led by his five Captains. The rebellion would be put down, and everyone involved would be executed. In a month from now, this would all seem like a bad dream.
Clive reclined back in a plush armchair, sipping a two-hundred-year-old vintage out of a crystal glass. The wine was absolutely disgusting, but it had cost him a bloody fortune. Seeing as he was nobility, it would be expected of him to drink it, even when not in the company of others. Besides, it was strong and helped him remain calm in this stressful situation.
His eyes were just beginning to flicker shut, when a massive impact on the steel door made him start, spilling the expensive wine all over himself.
“What the hell?!” he exclaimed, sitting bolt upright.
A massive dent had appeared in the solid steel door, and his eyes widened in shock. Who could possibly have the strength to do that!?
Another massive boom sounded, and another dent appeared. The steel warped around the frame, and the door bowed inward under the enormous force. Stone flakes and dust rained down around the spacious panic room as Clive shot to his feet and ran for the far side of the room, where his Greatsword and armor stood in a glass case.
Another blow slammed into the door, buckling it even further as he hurriedly donned his armor, fumbling with the straps.
Voices were floating in from the other side now that there were gaps between the door and frame.
“One more should do it,” an oddly accented voice said. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
Clive just managed to cinch his belt and grab the scabbard containing his oversized blade, when the final impact tore the door from its hinges, sending the crumpled metal sheet hurling across the room, where it impacted and shattered the chair he’d been lounging in moments before.
“Phew, now that was some work!” a feminine voice said.
As the dust cleared, Clive finally got a good look at the invaders. Standing in the shattered doorway was a woman holding a massive hammer. To her right was a large frog, probably an Intelligent. And to her left stood Arthur.
Clive felt his panic turn to anger as he note
d the pelt of a Feline sitting on the bastard’s shoulders and the dagger made unmistakably from the claw of one as well. He looked whole and unharmed. Well, aside from the patch covering one of his eyes. At least Raucus had managed to do something before he died.
“I see you’ve saved me the trouble of having to hunt you down,” he said, drawing the Legendary item from its scabbard. “Though I’m sure you’ll wind up regretting this decision. Now, come at me!”
40
Arthur watched in awe as Talia turned the sheet of solid steel into a bent and crumpled mess. He knew she had a massive Strength attribute, but his earlier examination of her didn’t account for any of the bonuses she gained using her skills, nor if the hammer itself boosted her Strength. Seeing as her entire style was based around Strength, he had to wonder how massive the attribute really was when taking all the extra bonuses into effect.
On the fifth strike, the door gave way, sending the piece of twisted metal careening into the room.
His eye immediately locked onto the Baron, and he even cracked his right eye to take a peek. To his regular vision, Clive was a barely distinguishable blur through all the choking dust, but with his legendary eye, he saw a figure blazing with an angry Orange light. A crown of the same color floated above the Baron’s head, signifying that he was an Orange-Crown Boss.
He snapped his right eye shut as a headache threatened to bloom, but he’d gotten all the information he needed off the Baron. He hadn’t expected him to be a Boss, but there was nothing for it. At least he wasn’t as high leveled as he’d first thought, which was somewhat of a relief, though the fact that he would have 3 AOE attacks wasn’t a good sign. Not to mention that the weapon he carried gave off the same feel as the All-Seer eye. It was a Legendary weapon. He had no doubt about it.
Name: Baron Clive Von Felidae
Race: Lesser-Lion (Humanoid)
Level: 22
HP: 1,600/1,600 MP: 750/750 STA: 1,000/1,000