“But … but …” I shut my gaping mouth. Lirian was anything but a normal NPC. Being able to use a Faith-based spell without being a priest was just more proof of that.
“Alright,” I said. “I’m going to try my other spells. See if you can reproduce them as well.”
“Yes, Father.”
One by one, I started casting spells. Drilling Arrow and Mana Shield came first. I had used them often in the past so casting them was second nature. Lirian cast them both on her first attempt.
Mana Drain was harder. The sense of the spell wasn’t ingrained in me like the other two, and I had to go through the whole process of visualizing a person’s internal mana then command it to flow to me. Lirian and I took turns casting it on each other. Despite the difference in our levels and her lack of experience, she drew back nearly all the mana I’d drained from her.
Direball was a disappointment. I cast it pretty easily, but the resulting sphere of destructive energy was small and underwhelming. It barely cracked some pebbles when I launched it at the cliff. Lirian managed to learn the spell; however, she lacked the required governing skill for Expert-ranked spells. Her Direball was even more pathetic than mine.
I didn’t need to test Mana Infusion, having already used it extensively during my time at the kobold clan, but I did it for Lirian’s sake, and she was easily able to reproduce its effects.
Heal Followers was a skill learned from a spellbook, so casting it was more mechanical than my self-taught spells, and Lirian was able to learn that as well.
Shadow Web and Shadow Hound took a little more practice. In each case, I had to mentally control the shadows around me as a physical substance then shape them to my will, but after several attempts, I got the hang of casting them again. Lirian did too.
I had no problem casting the Dark Protection buff, encompassing Lirian in a translucent black layer of power, which she then reciprocated.
Touch of Decrepitude was a soul-sucking spell I’d picked up in Akzar. It was meant as an auxiliary spell for summoning demons. Having no victim to try it on, I decided to leave that spell for now. It wasn’t a battle spell anyway and had a long casting time, so I could take my time relearning it when I’d actually want to use it.
Taking a deep breath, I started concentrating on my last spell-like ability.
I’m trying to cast Shadow Clone, I answered.
The game can’t affect my mind directly like it did before, Vic, I said. And I have to know what my character is capable of. If it starts to go badly again, I’ll stop using it completely.
I’ve got this, I assured him. I sat back more comfortably in the lotus position and cleared my mind, focusing exclusively on my shadows. Carefully, I channeled my will and my mana into it. My shadow rose, slowly taking on its independent form. I felt completely fine throughout the procedure; no stress, no pressure, not even a headache.
I blinked, and my perspective changed in a flash from sitting to standing. I looked down at my original body then examined my own shadowy hands and chuckled. The sound came out hollow and echoey.
“I, I, live among the creatures of the night.” I held out my shadowy arms.
“I haven’t got the will to try and fight.”
I struck a dancer’s pose and shouted, “Against a new tomorrow, so I guess I'll just believe it, that tomorrow never comes!”
There was a long silence before Vic spoke in my mind again.
I was enjoying myself immensely. Gotcha. You were genuinely worried about me.
Let it go, Vic. I won.
That’s right, I said, basking in my success.
I cringed at that.
Lirian frowned. She was also sitting in the lotus position. Sweat covered her forehead, but her own shadow remained flat. She opened her eyes and looked at me. “I can’t do it.”
That was a little weird. As an NPC, she should have had way more control than me. Still, I couldn’t help but smile at her. I switched back to my original body. “I guess your old man still has some tricks to teach you.”
In response, flames spewed from her mouth and engulfed my clone. I could’ve poured in more mana to sustain it, but there was no need. The clone dissipated as the flames ate it away. The mischievous goblinette smiled at me. “And I’ve got one for you.”
My heart melted at her smile then it raced as I realized what I was feeling. I’d called myself her old man. I was enjoying spending time with her. I was starting to feel like a father.
I swallowed hard. “I think we’re done here. I have … some reading to do. Why don’t I return you to the house so you can rest?” I offered her my hand again.
She stood up and gave me a sly smile. “There’s no need, Father. I can do it myself.” The shadows rose around her, and she disappeared.
I took a moment to feel the threads of information surrounding me. It took Lirian several consecutive ‘jumps,’ since her destination was outside her teleport range, but she made it to the Chief’s Haunt safely.
Nodding to myself, I turned my attention inward. I’d resumed mastery over my magic; now it was time to check everything else.
***
I was just about to open my character sheet when Vic, still in his cloak form, suddenly shouted in my mind,
There was a flash of light somewhere behind the temple, and I scrambled to my feet, drawing the Demon Staff out from my inventory. “What happened? Are we under attack?”
My unruly companion snickered.
I blinked at him. “Who respawned?”
He waved his hand dismissively. “One of the hob puppets. Don’t interrupt; I’m having an important internal philosophical discussion over here. Goblin-ter? No … too specific. Monstir? Too generic. Hmm, I got it – Muppet!”
“Muppet?” I echoed.
“Got a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” he said proudly. He put his hands to his mouth and shouted, “MUPPET!”
That drew the attention of several guards patrolling the valley below. They spent a few seconds trying to figure out what was going on then they simply shrugged and continued their patrol.
I gave up on my unruly companion and teleported down to the ground. The light had come from behind the structure where the clan’s tombstone was located. A single figure stepped out into the open. I instantly recognized the powerful-looking hob. It was Kilpi, the melee fighter I’d promoted as a boss. With his shield and boss’s abilities, the level 28 warrior was an incredible tank on the battlefield, and I recalled him efficiently holding back several higher-level players when we attacked my old guild.
The hob looked around in wonder. He’d been dead for over a year, so needing some adjustment was understandable. As soon as his gaze fell on me, he dropped to his knees and lowered his head. “Dire Totem. I have failed to protect you. I offer you my life.”
I could almost feel Vic rolling his eyes as he spoke in my mind.
“Get up,” I said quietly to the kneeling hob.
He did so, slowly.
“You have
nothing to apologize for,” I said. “You fought admirably against overwhelming forces. You only fell against a traveler 10 times more powerful than you.” A scene flashed in my mind of Kilpi being engulfed by a wall of fire hurled by a high-level player. “You stood by my side. And as I promised, as long as the clan and I live, you will never truly die. Now go get some rest. I expect you at the arena tomorrow, helping to train the soldiers.”
He flashed me a grin and punched his armored chest. “Yes, Chief!”
I watched him scurry away and felt a little more optimistic about the future. My bosses were a powerful fighting force, and I was glad to have them back. “Who’s the next to respawn?” I asked Vic.
“But you’re not bored, right?” I smirked.
He chuckled.
“Two,” I joked, “counting the one you forfeited to me earlier.”
“Thanks.”
I decided to stay where I was and go over my character information. Two more bosses were about to respawn, and I wanted to greet them. I found a chair-sized boulder to sit on and opened my character sheet.
Title: Dire Totem
Level: 51 (5%)
Race: Goblin
Type: Boss III
Religion: The Cult of Nihilator
Attributes: [1 point available]
● Physical 4
● Mental 59
● Social 2
Pools & Resistances:
● Hit Points: 1,458
● Mana: 3,243
● Armor: 100
● Mental Resistance: 60%
● Fire Resistance: 50%
● Magic Resistance: 30%
Skills:
● Lucky Bastard 51 Ⓑ
● Analyze 115
● Tracking 18
● War Party Leader 39 [+5]
● Runecraft 67
● Barter 12 [capped]
● Governor 12 [capped]
Spells:
● Dark Mana 44 Ⓑ
○ Drilling Arrow
○ Mana Shield [+]
○ Mana Drain
○ Direball
○ Mana Infusion
● Faith 29
○ Heal Followers
○ Shadow Web
○ Shadow Hound
○ Shadow Teleport
○ Dark Protection
● Soul 27
○ Blood Wrath [+]
○ Touch of Decrepitude
Traits:
● Goblinoid (+1 Physical, -1 Social)
● Quick Learner +20%
● Boss Boon III (15 HP & 30 MP per level; Nihilator’s Sanction; Damage Reflection)
● Soul Companion: Vic
● Shadow-Touched
● Mind Over Body (-50% to pain, +50% Mental Resist)
Overall, the information looked pretty similar to what I was used to, but there were some differences.
First, I assigned the latest level-up point into Mental, bringing it up to 60. I was a magic user first and foremost, and now that I knew I could use my spells again, it made the most sense to further invest in them. My health pool was impressive for a caster, but my mana pool was insane. After assigning the new attribute point, it had reached an all-time high of 3,305. That number was the equal of the highest-level player in NEO.
I winced as I realized that was no longer a valid comparison. All the players that were trapped inside the game had their levels reset. Now I was probably the highest level of them all. They’d had a year to level up, but if the players I freed were any indication, the others wouldn’t have tried to level up too much. Shiva had made sure to make that as unappealing as possible.
Vic chortled.
Shut up, Vic, I replied distractedly as I continued to pore over my character information.
Analyze was still my highest-ranked skill and the only Master-ranked one I possessed, but some of the others were not so far behind.
Both my Barter and Governor skills, however, were capped at 12 since I hadn’t invested any points into my Social attribute. The reason I even had them at all was due to my boss tier bonus. For a moment, I considered whether I should start investing in my Social attribute. The Barter skill had proven very useful in Akzar; it allowed me to get everything I needed to renovate Nihilator’s church at a reduced cost, saving me a lot of time and effort. I didn’t remember what Governor did, other than give bonuses for managing a settlement, so I clicked on the skill to open its description.
Governor
Lead the settlement efficiently, boost work efficiency, improve trade relations and rates.
Current Level 12: Apprentice: You may assign up to three officials. Officials carry limited authority and can lead smaller communities of their own. The selected officials will always remain your loyal subjects. [Current officials: 1]
Effect I: +12 morale
Effect II: Work efficiency – +20%
It was an excellent skill for a clan chief. The morale and efficiency boost alone went a long way toward increasing the clan’s productivity. It suddenly dawned on me that my absence had impacted the clan more significantly than I’d realized. But I was going to correct that.
The new spell system was easy to understand. Instead of each spell having its own score, they were grouped under a governing magical school or discipline. It wasn’t too bad. True, my highest-level spells had their score reduced, but on the other hand, the seldomly used ones, like Mana Drain, were now stronger. I finally understood why my Heal Followers spell was so effective when we fought the kobolds. Before the new system, the spell was at less than half its current level, and back then, it probably wouldn’t have been enough to keep everyone alive and fighting for as long as they did.
The trait section looked as I’d remembered it. Even Vic was still listed as my companion.
While I was reading the list, I opened my mind to the metadata behind it, trying to tap into the finer details and find out if anything else was different. I was concentrating so intently that Vic’s next shout caught me off-guard.
I looked up with a start, just in time to see the light dissipating from the direction of the cemetery. Then Yulli stepped out from behind the temple.
The level 29 Archer boss looked exactly as I’d remembered. She was tall, holding herself confidently with a no-bullshit attitude. I was happy to note that her death hadn’t caused her to lose the expensive equipment I’d purchased for her in Akzar. Deathstrike, the magical griffin bow, was slung across her shoulder next to the Neverending Quiver. The hob’s skin and equipment were coated with an oily shining layer of darkness, the visual telltale signs of the Liquid Darkness and Coat Weapon blessings I’d granted her.
The Archer dropped to her knees when she saw me sitting on the boulder. “Chief!”
“Yulli.” I smiled at her. “Good to see you again. Please stand.”
She did so then looked around. “Much has changed.”
“It has,” I agreed. “Our old enemies have been dealt with, but new ones came to replace them.”
“They will feel the sharp tips of my arrows,” she declared. “Nothing can stand against the might of the GreenPiece Clan.”
“That’s the plan,” I said lightly. “For now, I’d like you to resume your old job of training the new soldiers in bowmanship. Talk to Bob to arrange it.”
“Yes, Chief,” she said. She made her way to the edge and quickly descended the ladder.
I had about an hour until the ne
xt boss respawned. I wasn’t particularly looking forward to that one, but I decided it was better to wait here and get it over with as soon as possible.
To pass the time, I opened my inventory and started to refamiliarize myself with the equipment I’d been carrying. Everything looked as I expected at first glance except the last item on the list.
“When the hell did I get a cougar fang necklace?” I muttered to myself. I felt under my chin and found the sharp-edged piece hanging from my neck.
I rolled my eyes. “Remind me. And spare me the sass.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Still too much sass.”
The necklace wasn’t worth much, but it did present an opportunity to further test my abilities. I concentrated and opened the Runecraft Design Mode.
A holographic representation of the necklace floated in front of my view, and I saw that it had two available rune slots. It was an impressive amount for an item so small. There was nothing I wanted to craft right now, and I was just about to close the interface when I noticed something odd. The holographic amulet had three of the standard brown points that represented the item’s durability, but it also had five purple ones. I let my mind dive deeper into the metadata I was getting from the interface. At first, the information was confusing. It told of primitive connections and enhanced interactions, and it took me a few moments to realize what it meant. The necklace held the potential to affect my social interactions with monster species.
The enchantment looked simple. All I needed to do was connect the points with the Te connecter rune and attach it to the Ko rune of strength. I already had that enchanting schema available, as I often used it to increase the strength of an item’s natural properties. I selected ‘KoTe’ schama from the list, and the glowing rune lines instantly appeared, superimposed over and around the necklace. I carefully manipulated the connector lines to pass through every one of the purple dots as I’d done so many times before. I managed to connect all five dots on the first attempt. Thanks to my advanced Runecraft skill, I was able to see the magical effects on my side view; the enchantment would improve the attitude of monsters toward me. At the same time, it would make non-monster characters more hostile toward me. Since pretty much every non-monster character in the world was now an enemy, I was fine with that tradeoff.
Life Reset: Human Resource (New Era Online Book 4) Page 16