by Wolfe Locke
Without any hesitation, Seraph crept up to the door as quietly as he could and slowly, softly, he closed it. However, as the door clicked into place, his heart stopped as the noise outside ended. Seraph’s heart dropped into the pit of his stomach, knowing he had inadvertently alerted the monstrous horde of his location. Time was up. From outside, he heard the sounds of movement beginning again, heading directly towards him.
Knowing he was on borrowed time, Seraph turned around and ran straight towards the closed interior door that he had walked past earlier. He quickly checked if anything was inside first by putting his ear to the thin door. He just didn’t have enough time to do any additional checks. Without much choice, Seraph opened the door.
The door opened up into a janitor’s closet. The room was full of paper towels and toilet paper. Ignoring the stink of chemical residue and cleaning supplies, Seraph quickly searched the room, taking note of the mop buckets and the industrial-sized eye washing station. Unscrewing the caps on some of the containers, Seraph quickly tossed them out into the hallway to spill out on the floor.
In the corner of the room behind the water facet, Seraph found something he could use. Right above the sink was a white container bolted into the wall—a white sign with red lettering showing it to be a medical kit. Seraph leaned forward, grabbed it, and opened it up to find additional gauze and pain killers, but nothing else that he could use to help Paul. He put them away in his spacial pocket, disappointed, and went back to searching. In his disappointment, he almost missed it. A faint glint towards the back of the sink caught his eye as he prepared to run back towards his father. The copper sigil of a basic class, the sign of the shield, the representation of the Tank Specialization.
Seraph grabbed the sigil and instantly felt a jolt of power that quickly passed through him. Unlike other emblems, a basic class had no requirements before it could be used. In his past life, he had supplemented his legendary class with abilities from specializing in multiple lesser classes.
Though Seraph had never been a pure tank class, he was familiar enough with the importance of defense and self-hardening. Though it was also uncertain how much of the tank class was the same as what he knew, Seraph felt he had no choice but to accept it. He would be unable to generalize into another specialty until he reached another dungeon floor. There he would have the freedom to pick another generalization. But for now, if it helped him live, there was no debate. He would accept.
Notification: Item Acquired – Shield Sigil
Details: You have acquired the Sigil Emblem of the Shield, granting the lesser class specialization of “Tank”.
Do you wish to use the sigil to gain the “Tank” generalization?
Yes/No?
With the limited options he had at his disposal, Seraph accepted the generalization, mentally selecting yes. As his class changed, so did his appearance. The frayed and half-destroyed jumpsuit he was wearing was replaced by a smoky grey suit of plate armor. Seraph knew the armor was mostly cosmetic and offered only slightly better protection than the clothes he had been wearing. As he headed back to his father, Seraph hoped the man’s time working with the ability kiosk had been just as successful.
Notification: Status Increase – Tank Generalization
Details: Due to gaining the “Tank” generalization, your Endurance has increased by +2 and your Strength by +1.
Without stopping to examine himself or summon his status screen, Seraph dismissed the prompts. He gathered up the remaining cleaning materials before dumping them all out on the floor near the doorway, followed by the toilet paper and the towels. The sound of loud banging spurred his movements. He was just in time to see the door handle begin to move. Seraph quickly turned the lock as oversized bodies pressed against the door, the door already bowing inwards as the wood strained. Time was short.
Seraph sprinted down the hall, yelling as he went, knowing there was no point in staying quiet any longer. “Hey, Dad! Get up! Wake up! They’re almost here, it’s go time. I need you. Tell me you found something good!”
But when Seraph got to the waiting area, he saw that Paul had fallen into a state of unconsciousness again. Worry hit him as Seraph ran to his father’s side. The concern only slightly lessening once he noticed the man’s chest, while barely moving, was moving. The only sign of life was Paul’s short and shallow breaths. He lay unconscious, slumped in front of the ability kiosk.
Seraph grimaced. This was not the result he was looking for. He had wanted Paul to live, and now it seemed likely they were both going to die unless Seraph did something drastic. The only option left to Seraph was not something he had wanted to do. Seraph brought out his Cat’s Claw, ready to painlessly sever Paul’s nervous system. Allowing him to absorb his father’s power and use it to fight his way out of here and escape.
His heart was pounding, and his mind was full of regret. A few tears moving freely down his face, Seraph mouthed an “I’m sorry.” He kissed his father’s forehead, preparing to plunge the blades into the unconscious man. Holding his father’s head with one hand, Seraph was ready to plunge his blades in, but then he stopped himself, hesitating as he heard the entrance doorway began to splinter.
For the briefest of moments, Seraph saw the selection his father had made from the ability kiosk. In his father’s hand, the man held an emblem to gain the “Preservation” ability. An ability that would allow someone once per day to send another person back to the safety of Hometown teleported directly onto a recall platform inside the Inn. It was not an ability that could be used on oneself. It was a rare ability that team leaders and healers often tried to pick up to supplement their ability kits.
Seraph realized there was only one reason his father would have picked that ability. Paul had intended to save Seraph and sacrifice himself. “Well, not today,” muttered Seraph as he wiped the few remaining tears from his face and steadied himself for what he needed to do. Seraph took the emblem from Paul’s unconscious hands and made the mental command to accept the ability, pre-empting the notification and request.
Notification: Ability Unlocked - “Preservation”
Details: Once per day you may send a target to Hometown, in doing so stabilizing the target and sending the target directly to the Inn of the Withered Fig to receive care
Note: Cannot target self.
He knew what he needed to do. Seraph laid a hand on his father’s chest and mentally selected him as the target of the ability. Leaning in, Seraph whispered into the man’s ear, “Live,” as his father disappeared in a stream of blue-colored light. With a flash of magic, Paul was gone, teleporting immediately to safety.
At least, he didn't die this time, Seraph thought, consoling himself as he heard the last bits of the door break down. Oversized pieces of wood crashed into furniture and fixtures. Knowing the horde was here, Seraph couldn't help but wonder why he had done something so foolish as let Paul go. He dismissed it; that was a question for another day.
Chapter 18: Trump Cards
* * *
Looking down at the spot where Paul had just lain, Seraph knew he had made the right call by using the preservation ability to send his father away—instead of killing the man and trying to take his father’s power as his own. Judging by the size of the pool, there had been substantial blood loss. If Paul had remained, there was no way he could have been useful in such a state, and it was unlikely he would have survived.
Today would not be the day his father would die, and in knowing that fact, Seraph took some measure of solace. Even as the building began to echo with the sound of bodies pushing their way through the broken doorway down the hall.
Seraph had wanted to use the body of the other Hunger they had killed to heal himself, but it had already collapsed into dust, absorbed by the dungeon. Instead, he used that small window of time to see what ability he could buy for himself. Approaching the ability kiosk, he briefly scanned the offerings, not having time to look deeper and compare choices.
Notification: “Welcome to the Abil
ity Shop” – Current Location – Beach City Visitor’s Center
Current Balance – Sol: 05160)
Note – Each ability, when purchased, doubles in price. The effect is cumulative.
List
* I - Summon Spiderlings (1500 Sol)
* I - Weakness of the Fey (2600 Sol)
* I - Earth Splitter (1600 Sol)
* I - Channel Power (1300 Sol)
* I - Animate Dead (1450 Sol)
* I - Burning Fist (2300 Sol)
* II - Preservation (1600 Sol)
* I - Healing Circle (1400 Sol)
* I - Cover Ally (1100 Sol)
* I - Desecrated Battlement (1600 Sol)
Looking over the list, Seraph chose Burning Fist without hesitation. It was the only fire-based ability he saw. Seraph knew his only chance of survival involved burning the chemicals he had spilled near the entrance. He had hoped for something that would grant him a distance-based attack since many of his abilities were already touch-based. Regardless, it made sense for him to add diversity to elements that he could use. He also picked up Cover Ally, as it was cheap in cost, and it would help him in the future to close the distance when allies were in danger. If he had possessed the ability previously, Seraph knew he would have been able to protect Paul.
Lastly, Seraph looked over the remaining abilities—none of which really interested him, even though they did have their uses. The last ability on the list was something that also interested him for future use: Desecrated Battlement. Based on the title, Seraph had the working assumption it would benefit groups and teams that he might work with in the future, although he wasn’t sure about the specifics. He wasn’t sure it would help now, though. That being said, he didn't want to pay a higher cost later. He purchased it and watched his remaining Sol drop.
Notification: You have gained the “Cover Ally” ability.
Details: When moving to protect an ally, movement speed is tripled.
Note: This ability synergizes with the “Tank” generalization. Minor healing is provided to the user if the ally is successfully protected.
Notification: You have gained the “Burning Fist” ability.
Details: On activation, both hands are enveloped in a magical flame that does not harm the user and supplements the user's physical attacks.
Note: The user is not immune to fires caused by the use of Burning Fist.
Notification: You have gained the “Desecrated Battlement” ability.
Detail: Enchant area with a poisonous aura; enemies will receive a stat debuff equal to the percent of allied casualties.
Example: A troop of 100 men suffers 31 deaths and another 10 wounded. Enemies within the space have their stats reduced by 41%
With no time left, Seraph ran, taking cover along the way as he discreetly peered out down the hall. He watched as the hungers pushed through the doorway and wandered aimlessly near the entrance. Their numbers were suggestive of an endless horde as they shuffled in one at a time.
For Seraph, it was as if time paused. He had no choice but to count as more monsters filled the area, under no illusion that more waited outside. With each new monster, his heart dropped a little because he knew his chances of survival decreased as his enemies multiplied. Luck was with him, though. The hungers remained clumped near the entrance, tearing through the chemically-soaked stacks of paper. It was just a matter of finding a way to reach them with the flames.
Seraph knew that the hungers were still looking for him, even if their attention was scattered. Shortly, they would tire of what they were doing, and they would start to wander down the hallway in search of other things to destroy. It didn't matter if it was furniture, half-melted plastic, or the cabinets and shelves. These monsters still knew that someone was in the building, and they would find him. It was guaranteed eventually—even if he hid—and Seraph would rather it be on his terms.
An idea came to him; Seraph knew an opportunity when he saw one. He activated his Thousand Handed ability, and 6 of the Spectral Ethereal arms of mana appeared out of his back like appendages. He didn’t have long to maintain it, but he didn’t need to. As long as the monsters in their disorganization stayed close together they would be an easier target, and if he didn’t take advantage of that, he would resign himself to his fate.
Using the power of his newly acquired ability—Burning Fist—he applied the ability to each of the ethereal arms he had spawned, while grabbing one of the melted plants in his hands and lighting it on fire. He threw the flaming vase, and it landed within the pool of spilled chemicals, spreading the fire. Meanwhile, he reached out with his spectral arms, placing his hands on the floor, the wall, and the ceiling where he could reach. He was fully intent on killing the hungers as they grouped aimlessly together. It was his only chance of living through this.
The flames proliferated at the touch of his hands, and Seraph was forced to recoil from the fire and its heat to avoid badly burning himself. The spilled cleaning agents acted as an accelerant, and blue and black chemical flame roared into life. The floor went up in a fiery inferno as the fire began to consume the scattered boxes and stacks of paper. The hungers themselves had strewn the fuel about, disbursing it as they searched for him.
Though the smoke was thick and brought with it both the concern of aspiration and the fire spreading to where he was, Seraph was generally pleased with the result. He retreated farther into the building, trying to get as far away from the smoke and noxious fumes as he could. The last thing Seraph wanted was to render himself unconscious because of a chemical reaction in the burning of synthetics and cleaning materials.
In a matter of seconds, over half of the hungers had been engulfed by the fire. They quickly succumbed to the flames as their bodies blackened, and the fat beneath the skin began to bubble as the monsters screamed in pain and rage as the fires burned through to the bone.
Satisfied, Seraph dismissed his ethereal arms and extinguished his Burning Fist ability.
Seraph had a problem, though; he had drawn the full attention of the remaining hunger. Every single one of them turned and started to run at him. Even injured and burnt, they were still dangerous, and the smoke on the air represented a danger to him as much as the fire and the monsters.
Regardless of the situation, he had no choice but to grit his teeth and brace himself. Seraph activated what might one day be his trump card. He designated the interior of the visitors’ center for the enchantment. He enabled his new ability, “Desecrated Battlement.”
Dark mist rapidly spread out, unfolding, black and grey, like the smoky haze above a battlefield as fires burned and weapons smoked. Wherever the enchantment went, the fire died down a little, retarded though not extinguished.
Notification: “Desecrated Battlement” activated.
Current enchantment location “Beach City – Visitor’s Center”
Current Casualty rate on team = 50%
Applying 50% stat debuff against all enemies within the range of the ability.
The effect was instant as hungers that had been running towards him, bounding down the hall, had their movement speed halved and appeared to take on a more sluggish, exhausted manner. The nearest hunger to him was only a few feet away, half of its face burned down to the skull, bones charred and showing.
Seraph moved on it, and with its movement slowed as it was, he had no difficulties quickly dispatching it as he drove his blades through the monster’s brain in a critical hit.
The remaining hungers slowed in their approach, realizing he would not be easy prey, each hesitant to be the next to die. Seraph switched his attention to the next closest hunger to him, and when the monster noticed Seraph had fixed his attention on it, it recoiled in fear and started to back up fearing its own death, tripping over some of the hungers behind it.
Seeing that fear, Seraph seized the moment to kill it. If he could force the remaining monsters to disperse, it would make the cleanup much easier. He attempted to reactivate his Thousand Handed ability,
but rather than the blue glow of his ethereal arms, the veins across his body started to glow a dark crimson, an effect of his Abyssal Body that highlighted that he was near mana depletion.
The crimson glow emboldened the monsters as it alerted the previously skittish hungers that Seraph was out of magic, and in response, monsters surged forward confident that the human could no longer kill them, much less harm them.
Having no other options and unable to cast spells—and lacking time to gather mana from his environment—Seraph played his one remaining card. He summoned the flames from his Burning Hands ability. This was not magic so much as an innate ability that he now possessed.
The hungers, seeing the flame, hesitated mere feet in front of Seraph, skittish and afraid of the fire, their fear giving him the much-needed time to proceed to the second part of his plan. Even more so, they gave him the much-needed distance he required, preventing them from fully swarming him.
He thrust his hand downward, never ceasing the flow of fire from his ability as he turned to retreat farther into the building. He dragged his hand across the floor as he went, allowing fire to spread under and over the furniture, and from the furniture the walls. Everything he touched as he retreated from the hungers set alight. He edged away, careful to, at the same time, stay in front of the hungers and not get caught by his own flames. Between the initial fire he had started with during the first encounter, and the new fires that he had just started, the blaze was spreading to all corners of the building and would soon consume everything.