Eve rolled her eyes, tuning the pair out as they brainstormed sillier and sillier names for the frontier town.
As the hours dragged on and the conversation died down, the Striker’s thoughts turned away from her new gear and rumbling stomach towards ideas of what lay ahead. Daydreams of exploring ancient dungeons and felling deadly foes played out in her head, paired, of course, with wistful imaginings of exp earned and levels gained.
Far away as her next promotion was, both Wes and Preston grew closer to their own. Eve wondered what the devouring flame had in store for Wes, or if Preston would eventually escape the clutches of his rather impolite goddess. Truth be told, she’d run out of Priestess jokes.
By the time the party stopped just short of the looming tree line beneath the blue glow of twilight, Eve’s mounting hunger could be ignored no more. Her normally massive pool of Stamina fell to double digits as her body failed to find the energy to refill it. She didn’t wait for Wes to start the campfire before digging into her supply of rations.
Alex looked on with concern. “Didn’t you want to vent some Mana before eating again?”
“I’d rather keep my daggers full in case we encounter something,” Eve explained through a mouthful of jerky. She swallowed. “I’ll dump my pool once I’m done eating.”
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Preston asked. “You’re already glowing.”
White light raced along her body, stretching in jagged tendrils up her neck. She took another bite. “Food first, Mana later.”
Despite her dismissive words and pressing hunger, Eve did a quick check on her Mana pool. Already it sat at just over a hundred, not enough to hurt but plenty to stop her health from regenerating above half. Still she ate.
Eve made her way through two chunks of aged cheese, three strips of salted meat, a handful of berries, and more hardtack than she’d ever thought she could stomach before Wes placed a hand on her shoulder.
“You need to stop.” A gentle worry colored his voice. “Eve, you’ve had two meals’ worth of food. Mana aside, we’ll run out of rations before getting to Foot’s Garrison.”
She froze, taking note of the brilliant glow of her skin and the inferno coursing through her veins. Still her stomach rumbled. “Shit.” She pulled up her status.
Evelia Greene
Human
Level 33 Shatterfate Striker
Exp: 5292/6817
Health: 112/520
Stamina: 231/2100
Mana: 821/0
Her jaw hung open. “My Stamina’s barely recovered. It’s all gone to Mana.” Her health ticked down before her eyes. “Preston, I need—”
Her voice cut off as Ayla’s invasive light poured into her, fighting off the frigid storm of burning Mana with its combined healing and unwelcome scrutiny. “Go,” the healer said, “dump it.”
Eve nodded, jumping to her feet to dash away from the group. She would’ve Charged! had she the Stamina to spare. Ayla’s light followed her as Preston channeled the spell at range, keeping her health topped off even as the Mana ate away at it.
She made it two dozen yards before collapsing to the grass, planting both palms in the cool greenery. At her bidding, the Mana came forth.
The explosion sent her flying.
Eve tumbled through the air, spinning wildly as she flailed for some semblance of control. She found none. She landed on her right hip, thankfully avoiding the side with the morningstar. She didn’t feel thankful.
Preston raced to her side, switching to his more powerful Healing Touch as she recovered from her fall. Seconds passed in quiet discomfort before the pain and Ayla’s mercy alike faded away, replaced only by the continued ache of an empty stomach.
Wes helped her to her feet. “Are you alright? What happened there?”
Eve gulped. “My Mana generation isn’t just getting worse; it’s taking away from my normal metabolism.”
Alex furrowed her brow. “What does that mean?”
Eve chewed on her lip as she reread the description on her secondary quest. “It means,” she eventually said, “I need to ‘adapt to the changes.’”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Those Damned Scones
A HORRIFIC GROWL echoed across the canopy as the four adventurers cut through the thick foliage that had made its way onto the road. “Careful, guys,” Wes warned. “It sounds like there’s a wild beast on our trail.” He chuckled. “No, wait, that’s just Eve.”
A combination of too sluggish, too hungry, and too exasperated to come up with a witty reply, Eve settled on the classic, “Fuck you too.”
“When the quest said to ‘adapt to the changes,’” Alex said, “avoiding food altogether wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”
“What else can I do? I can’t just keep exploding all the time; Preston’s gotta run out of Mana eventually.”
“And you’ve gotta eat eventually,” the healer snapped.
“I know, I know,” the Striker admitted. “I’m just hoping if I go a while without, I can remind my body it needs energy too, not just Mana.” Not experiencing the terrible burning pain that came with having too much Mana running through her veins was an added benefit she neglected to mention.
“It still sounds a lot more like ‘avoiding’ the changes than ‘adapting’ to them,” Wes said.
Eve shrugged. “You have a better idea?”
“Eat something! Explode if you need to, or have Preston heal through whatever damage the Mana does to you, but you need food.”
The Priestess nodded along to Wes’s comments. “I don’t know how fast it drains you, but I can keep up a few dozen health points a minute for hours before I run out. Hells, if you could channel that Mana of yours without exploding, I could even use it to heal you.”
“Let’s not go down that road,” the fire mage argued. “Remember the dungeon core? Last time you got a dose of raw Mana, you had to use all of it keeping yourself alive. Can’t heal Eve if you’re too preoccupied with not dying.”
“Whatever we do,” Preston said, “it’ll have to happen soon. Look at her; she can barely walk.”
“I’m right here.”
“Right,” Wes added, completely ignoring Eve’s words. “She can’t wait for a class promotion.”
“Could you two stop talking over me? Gods, you’re like my ma and da all over again.”
Preston turned. “Don’t you talk to your parents like that, young lady! Your father and I are trying to help you.”
Alex laughed aloud from where she stood chopping through a low branch blocking the way.
Eve sighed.
“Oh that reminds me.” Wes swung his pack around his shoulder, flipping it open to dig through it. His hand returned wrapped around a strawberry scone. “I’ve still got one left over from before the drake job. Didn’t have a chance to get more before we left what with the strike and all, but this one oughta still be good. It’s only a few days old.”
Her stomach grumbled once more as she eyed the treat. Even dried out and stale as it was, it tempted her. Oh how it tempted her. Her mouth watered. No. It’s not worth it. Divinely delicious or otherwise, no week-old pastry was worth the pain it promised. Eve shook her head.
Wes’s eyes practically leapt from his skull as Eve turned to keep walking, leaving him behind still holding an uneaten scone. He turned to look at Preston.
The healer shrugged. “She’ll give in eventually. She’s gotta eat sometime. My bet’s on a hot meal once we get to Foot’s Garrison.”
Wes grinned, stowing the treat back in his pack. “You’re underestimating the power of the scone.”
“Bet you five silver I’m not. Your stale hunk of pastry can’t come close to a homemade dinner fresh from the stove.”
The bulky mage held out a hand. “You’re on.”
They shook.
Alex and Eve alike rolled their eyes at the wager, pressing on down the overgrown path towards their destination.
At the back of her drained mind, the St
riker wondered how the frontier town had let their road fall into such disrepair. Surely Foot’s Garrison was just as much in need of trade and supplies and travel as any other settlement. She hoped they had gone the right way. Then again, she’d rather be lost than discover Foot’s Garrison had fallen a decade ago without telling anybody.
The adventurers hacked and shoved and burned the encroaching foliage, more so to clear the way for future travelers than for their own passage. They were perfectly capable of climbing over a few shrubs, thank you very much. Hells, with any luck, the village would pay them for the service.
The party journeyed onward, ever watchful of the shifting shadows and rustling leaves of the northern woods. That is, Alex was watchful. Preston spent most of the time huddled up next to Wes for safety whenever the wind shifted too much, while the mage himself devoted his focus to igniting brush on the road without allowing his flames to spread elsewhere.
For her part, vigilance wasn’t even in Eve’s vocabulary. Not today. Sure, she vigilantly heeded her grumbling stomach and dwindling Stamina pool, but watching for potential threats was beyond her ability.
The hours ticked by in relative peace as the group progressed, only stopping for the night once the sun had well and truly shed its final ray. As Wes passed around rations of dried meat and cheese and hardtack, Eve arranged her pack as a pillow and lay down to rest. She’d have sleep for dinner that night.
* * *
The following day began much the same as the prior one had ended: with everyone else eating while Eve’s belly ached. It was a quiet throb, coming in gentle waves that fell somewhere between nausea and actual pain.
Wes looked on with concern as she forced herself to her feet, gathering her gear to set off once more. Eve didn’t protest when he reached out to take her pack away, shouldering it beside his own. She simply gave a smile of thanks.
The days blurred together as churning turned to aching turned to recurring pangs of sharp pain. Drinking from her water-skin seemed to help, but hydration was a poor substitute for nourishment.
By the time the walls of their destination came into view, not even a night’s sleep could raise her poor Stamina above single digits. Eve wondered how long ago she’d have collapsed were it not for her rather insane amount of Endurance. Two hundred and ten of a single stat was a lot, no matter how one looked at it.
The wooden fortifications of Foot’s Garrison were as overgrown as the road there. Vines and moss and even the odd flower littered the barrier of vertical logs, lending an air of decay and new life to what certainly looked like an abandoned outpost.
The adventurers stopped below the tightly-shut gate, sharing looks of confusion and worry amongst themselves.
“I swear, this place is supposed to be occupied,” Wes insisted. “The guildsman I spoke with said it’s the hub for intermediate adventurers looking to break into the big leagues.”
“And—uh—how old was this guildsman?” Preston asked. “Looks like nobody’s lived here for decades.”
Alex shrugged. “Only one way to find out.” She held an open hand perpendicular to her mouth as she called out, “Anyone there?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming, I’m coming,” a muffled voice answered.
The four companions shared a surprised look as the gate drifted open to reveal a bored-looking woman adorned with the gray and red of the Leshkian military.
“Oh, thank Ayla,” Preston said. “We were afraid this place was abandoned.”
The guard furrowed her brow. “Why would you—” Her eyes flicked up to gaze at the thick vines coating the outer walls. “Gods damnit, Barry.” She turned back to the new arrivals. “That’d be the work of everyone’s least favorite Druid, Barry. Whenever he gets drunk he thinks it’s funny to turn the place into a bloody garden. Wishes he was born an elf, that one.”
Eve blinked at the mention of the mythical race, to say nothing of the eccentric Druid.
Alex managed to maintain some semblance of professionalism. “The road here was pretty overgrown too. We cleared it out.”
“Good,” the soldier barked. “Saves me the trouble. And don’t be expecting payment. If we had the money to hire out adventurers whenever Barry makes a mess of things, it wouldn’t be my job.” She ushered them in. “Anyway, welcome to Foot’s Garrison. Inn’s that way, job board’s that way, graveyard’s that way.”
Wes cocked an eyebrow. “Graveyard?”
“You’ll need it sooner or later. You’re adventurers, aren’t you? Two things adventurers are good at: drinking and dying.”
Alex’s mouth hung open for a second before she collected herself. “Alright then. I guess we’ll just… head to the inn. Thanks for the directions.”
The guard nodded, giving them a smile as they stepped inside. She closed the gate after them.
Eve, for the most part, paid little attention to the exchange. She didn’t have much to spare. The Striker simply trudged on after her companions as they made their way through the town. She could take a tour of Foot’s Garrison later; all her mind could manage at the moment were thoughts of a comfortable chair and a stacked plate.
She feverishly tried to fight off that second image, but it was a persistent one. Roast pork and rabbit stew and game pies danced about her vision as she followed Alex’s lead. Eve was already salivating by the time she stepped inside The Foot’s Rest. Not even the remarkably unappetizing name of the establishment could deter her.
“Welcome, dearies,” a grandmotherly voice greeted them from across the common room. “You’re just in time for tea.” The plump woman spun around from the table over which she’d been leaning, revealing a porcelain tray clutched between two mitted hands. “I’ve made strawbe—”
If she’d had the Stamina to spare, Eve would’ve Charged! the innkeeper then and there. As it was, her mad dash was more of an unbalanced tumble through the assorted chairs and tables that littered the space between them.
“Oh dear, hungry, aren’t we?”
Eve shoved two of the scones into her mouth at once. Their crisp, sugar-coated exterior exploded across her tongue just as the soft, still-steaming inside melted in her mouth. The tartness of fresh strawberries balanced beautifully with the sweetness of the pastry, coming together in a symphony of flavor, texture, and joy.
“I told you so,” Wes muttered where he still stood at the inn’s doorway. “Nothing beats the power of scones.”
“Not so fast,” the healer protested. “I said it’d be a hot meal fresh from the oven. Those look plenty hot to me.”
The mage patted Preston on the back. “We’ll call it a draw.”
Fire already blossomed in Eve’s chest by the time she reached for thirds. She didn’t care. It didn’t matter if the food turned to Mana instead of nourishment or if the experience would leave her writhing in agony. She needed this.
She managed to down five of the sugary treats before collapsing to the hardwood floor.
“My heavens.” The innkeeper pulled away the tray of scones. “Is she alright?”
Wes and Preston raced to her side as Alex pulled the elderly Hostess away to explain the situation.
Eve saw none of it.
An icy inferno raged within her as her Ethereal Metabolism converted every calorie of the delicious snacks into pure Mana. Her pool skyrocketed.
Mana: 381/0
She grit her teeth.
Mana: 812/0
Her knuckles whitened as she clenched her fists.
Mana: 1391/0
A whimper escaped her parched throat.
A soft hand touched her forehead, sending waves of golden light through her very being. Two sets of thick fingers wrapped around her wrists, pinning them to the ground to keep her from thrashing as Preston went about his work.
The maelstrom roiled.
Black spots danced across Eve’s vision as agony consumed her. White Mana scorched her very being, burning and freezing and melting and raging. Her health plummeted, only held stable by the constant s
tream of healing magic.
The two forces battled within her, laying waste to veins and arteries and organs alike as Ayla’s mercy faced off against the remarkable destructive power of the raw Mana.
“Don’t explode,” Alex practically shouted into her ear. “Not here, not inside. You’ll just be back where you started. You need to adapt.”
It hurt. By the gods, how it hurt. Eve couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge the warrior’s words, but she held on nonetheless. People could die if she unleashed this much Mana in the town’s center. She slipped in and out of consciousness as the fire within her grew too hot to bear only to recede in the wake of the Priestess’s spell. Still she held on.
Twice as she lay there on the common room floor did Preston send Alex digging through his pack for a Mana potion only to down the thing in one gulp. The healer never ceased his channeling.
After seconds or minutes or hours of unyielding pain—Eve could scarce tell the difference—the Mana seemed to settle.
“Did you do it?” Nerves shook Wes’s voice. “Is she—”
Secondary Quest Stage Complete: Adapt to the Changes
+2000 exp!
Stage Three: Discover their Legacy.
Level Up!
“Look at her eyes!” Alex gestured to the familiar blue reflection of a status screen. “I think she’s done it!”
“Thank Ayla.” Preston exhaled.
“C’mon,” Wes said, “let’s get her upstairs.”
Eve’s consciousness had already begun to fade as two pairs of capable hands gently lifted her, maneuvering her limp form towards the cramped stairway and a soft bed. Before sleep could finally take her, however, Eve managed to read but one more notification from the list that blinked in her periphery.
Race Change Unlocked: Manaheart!
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Manaheart
EVE BLINKED THE sleep from her eyes as the faint glimmers of early dawn pierced her window. The room was spacious, far larger than the one she’d enjoyed at the guild hall, even if the bed itself was a tad lumpy.
This Quest is Broken! (This Trilogy is Broken (A Comedy Litrpg Adventure) Book 1) Page 27