by Tao Wong
Capstan charges, using the distraction my Blade Strikes generate to close the distance and smash his axe into the creature’s side. It pierces a foot into the creature’s torso before it gets stuck. As Capstan tries to yank it backward, the Mana stones shift, trapping the axe head.
“Mine!” Capstan growls, his body glowing red. But the increased Strength from his Skill is insufficient, and already the pool of slime is attacking him like it did Ingrid. Wisps of smoke rise from his feet.
“I’m feeling neglected here,” I mutter and form more blades with a thought.
I get ready to swing a massed Blade Strike when instinct has me duck. From all around the cavern, globules of slime fire from the wall, splashing against shields, bodies, and the ground.
“Owww!” Aiden snarls, his casting interrupted as one globule somehow manages to make it past the Mage’s Mana Shield.
He raises his hand, reforming and reinforcing his shield, while Nelia works her magic to plug up holes in their joint defense. The wide-ranging, indiscriminate attack also hit the stealthed Ingrid, her body forced out of the shadows, smoking and bleeding.
“Someone kill that thing!” Ingrid says as she ducks another shot.
Worryingly, some of the Mana stones that were initially chipped off from Ingrid’s and my attacks are forming new slimes, each of which turn to attack us.
“Working on it,” I growl and skip the upgraded attack to go for the ultimate—Army of One. The formed blades shift automatically, giving themselves more space as beams of force shoot outward. Thirteen strikes, each of them twice as powerful as normal, hammer into the body of the giant Crystalline Slime Hive, shattering pieces off it. I can’t help but smirk, noting how much more damage I can do with my Penetrate Master Skill added to my attacks.
“My turn,” Aiden says. Instead of attempting a single large-scale spell, the mage flicks and twirls his wand again and again. Small fireballs fly, each about half the size of the one I cast. In seconds, dozens are hovering before the Elemental Mage.
“Don’t!”
Ingrid’s panicked shout reaches our ears, but no one has time to answer the Assassin. We’re all throwing up our own defenses or activating defensive Skills as we ready for the oncoming blast.
When the fireballs land, the flame-filled explosion rocks us during the initial hit and again when the walls of the dungeon compress the explosion inward. And then outward again, the concussive force finding few escapes in this enclosed cavern. My newly recreated Soul Shield fails, my armor barely useful as my flesh cooks and my hair burns off. Even through my resistance, I see hundreds of health points drop, my body burning for what seems like eternity.
Then silence.
“Everyone still alive?” I cough around the smoke, my throat dry.
A low pair of rumbles from the Yerrick indicate their well-being. Ali pops back out of the semi-dimension he’s used to and I realize my instincts failed me this time. Having not used the Quantum State Manipulator for so long, I’d forgotten I even had it. I frown, realizing that both Aiden and Ingrid are silent, which is a bit concerning. Less so with the former, since it was his spell. But…
“Oops,” Aiden croaks, his clothing smoking slightly as he pushes his way out of the earth-and-ash fortress. “Forgot we were in a cave…”
“Baka!” Ingrid reappears behind Aiden, smacking him on the back of the head.
The Mage staggers, rubbing his head, and blinks. “How did you do that?”
“Reaper’s Touch. It’s a Skill that lets me ignore Shields.”
“New?” I ask, and Ingrid nods.
“It’s an exclusive Class Skill, but it’s worth it.” The Assassin’s eyes grow dark as I recall Ikael’s assassination.
His layering of multiple Shields thwarted her first flurry of attacks, putting her in greater danger than normal. With this Skill, she could bypass some of the problems. How much, I don’t know. Since it’s an exclusive Skill, the details aren’t exactly on the public System net, which means I’d have to buy it if I was really curious.
Ali, smirking at the pair’s antics, says, “Oy! I haven’t received an experience notification that the Boss is down.”
“What?”
We spin back toward the smoking center of the cavern where it’s true, Mana Stones smoke and hiss but are intact. As we watch, a few roll back together, joining into smaller clumps. As everyone aims their weapons and spells at the ground, I note something more disturbing on my minimap.
“Incoming!” I warn. Dozens of fast-moving dots are converging on us in my map. With a thought, the minimap in my vision enlarges, giving me a clearer view of the surroundings, but it’s of little use since the damn slimes seem to be moving through the walls as far as the map is concerned. “A lot of incoming. Get away from the walls.”
Everyone moves to comply, Nelia using a solid earth equivalent of my Mud Walls to sweep the slime cores aside as we rush forward. Simultaneously, the first of the slime reinforcements appear, many of them splattering as we blast, cut, and freeze their bodies apart. Surprisingly, the cores which have survived race toward the largest concentration of slime core shards and join together with them.
“It’s regenerating,” Ali says, wonder in his voice. “I’ve got to record this.”
“Record later. Electricity now!” I snap, raising my hand.
Ali ignores me, which annoys me, but I don’t have time to focus on him. Instead, I pull on my Mana, the spell formulae and the Mana forms twisting around in my mind and around my extended hand as I cast Lightning Strike. It’s my own modification of the Spell, an Enhanced version, as I reach outward and inward at the same time for my Elemental Affinity.
Electromagnetic Force, one of the four principle forces that form our universe. While the System might break the rules, while Mana seems to be the fifth overlying force over everything, the laws that they break still exist. My affinity, gifted from my Link to Ali, allows me to sense, feel, and yes, manipulate it. In the four years I was away, I explored the use of this affinity even further, but in this instance, the basic Enhanced Lightning Strike is sufficient. I let it rampage a little more than normal, expanding its range of motion by relaxing the pathways I normally control and increasing the differences in charge at the slime cores.
I play the lightning across the ground, feeling the electricity jump and ground, burning and crisping even as my Mana drops and drops. But it’s working—the Slime Boss is taking damage faster than it can recover. It works. Until the ground under us gives way, cutting off my spell and dropping us in a pool of goop.
“Ugh!” Ali says, safely in the air. He stares as the rest of us floundering in the suddenly formed pool of slime, our skin burning as the slime grips our bodies and attempts to drag us deeper.
By the time Nelia manages to use her spells to drain the slime and reinforce the newly created crater’s walls to ensure we aren’t surprised again, the Boss has reformed.
“I’m really beginning to hate this dungeon,” Ingrid says as she pours a bottle of Greater Healing across her face, the enchanted potion healing the red and raw skin while neutralizing the slime.
“Agreed,” Capstan growls.
I look at the now nearly nude monster, his fur repeatedly burnt and scorched off. Even as I watch, patches grow out as the Yerrick’s regeneration kicks in.
“I don’t think we’re going to be able to win this quickly. I will conserve Mana for a long battle.” Neila suits action to words as she casts a Group Healing Pulse on us all, a long-term healing spell.
“Ditto.” Aiden waves his hand, a small floating blue ball forming above his head. When a slime core rolls closer toward us, it sends a single Mana dart at it. A few seconds later, the Mage has cast a second sphere as he begins to ring our new defensive position with these spheres.
“And I’ll…” I shrug and jump out of the pit, realizing I’m out of witty things to say. “Kill it.”
***
Later on that evening, we’re seated at the newly rebu
ilt City Center with Carlos, Lana, and the rest of the settlement team. Capstan is regaling those interested with the story of our fight, seeming to take great pleasure in emphasizing the disgusting aspects in particular. As for me, I’m seated in my own corner, tucking into the slab of Auroch ribs the Yerrick have kindly supplied me with, along with the bowl of mashed potatoes that have been drowned in gravy.
“May I join you?” Lana says, gesturing to a seat across from me.
Ingrid, who is seated beside me, looks at Lana and nods companionably if slightly coldly. The redhead returns the nod, but I can tell there’s a distance now between the two. Still, at my assent, Lana sits down without seeming too discomfited.
“It should take the Yerrick about a week to get settled and meet the Town requirements,” Lana says. “I believe that puts us at just over twenty-two percent of the vote. We’re still working on some of the other settlement owners in Africa, but our ability to field a focused and effective fighting force and our ties to the Hakarta, Erethrans, and Yerrick have convinced many we can provide the security they’re looking for.
“But we still haven’t heard from Roxley. Or Wynn. And Rob and Bipasha are at loggerheads over the candidacy. If the situation continues, we might need both Roxley and Wynn for any chance at this.”
“Wynn has requested more time. And Roxley…” I frown, shrugging. “He’s been quiet so far, but he did get us those two votes from the Okres.”
Lana makes a face, obviously less than impressed. I am too, since the Okres were basically a group of slightly more civilized ogres. But at least they don’t eat their enemies, and right now, we need every vote we can get. It’s a compromise which grates, but it’s one I’ll live with. At least this way we’ve managed to get them to banish their human criminals to us rather than the wilderness. It’s not a perfect solution, since a good two-thirds of their criminals are real asses, but the third we save for not finishing all their food or not training in the town square every day makes it worth it. Or so I tell myself.
“Nothing like the actual votes of the Movana,” Lana says before she puffs out a breath. “We won’t be able to get all the human settlement votes on our side. We need to speed up our discussions with the Galactics.”
“I’m assuming you have a recommendation?” I say.
Lana nods. Her hand shifts and a list is sent to me. “I’ve spoken with Kim and Ali as well as Ayuri. Based on their information and analysis, this is how I recommend we tackle it.”
I look over the list, then I note Ingrid is staring at us instead of blankly into space. With a mental twitch, I share the information with the Assassin, who flashes me a smile. Lana’s eyes narrow slightly but she doesn’t protest, so I don’t bring it up. I don’t have time to deal with the pair of them.
“You’re handling the Artisan faction?” I say, looking at the meeting scheduled two days from now. “Should I be there?”
“No. Katherine and I are the better options,” Lana says. “I’ll bring Carlos too. They’re more likely to listen to those of us not active on the battlefields.”
“Like appreciates like?” I say with a smirk but shrug, accepting her analysis. It does leave me with a ton of individual meetings, most of them via telecommunications towers, though I see a few in-person meetings marked as required. “I assume Kim’s going to brief me before these?”
“Yes.” Lana sighs. “You know, this will be a lot easier if you could make up your mind between Rob and Bipasha.”
“I know.” I scan down the list and frown as something jumps out. “This doesn’t cover everyone.”
“No. Some are grouped, but the greyed names at the bottom, we won’t want to work with. Or they just don’t want to work with us,” Lana says.
Ingrid hums, tapping a few of the names and sending it over to us. “I know these asses. Want me to kill them?”
“You’re talking about murder,” Lana says coldly.
“When a state does it, it’s called good policy.” Ingrid grins at me. “Right, boss?”
I want to shout about not being dragged into this, but… “Can you?”
“Wouldn’t have offered if I couldn’t. But I will need some help,” Ingrid says.
Lana looks upset, crossing her arms over her ample bosom.
“Done. Talk to Kim,” I say, making a note which will download to Kim when we’re back in range.
Ingrid nods while Lana stares at the pair of us before she walks away without a word.
I watch the redhead disappear, my lips pursing slightly. “Maybe we should have had this talk another time.”
“She’ll get over it. Lana understands, but she’s still a middle-class white girl at heart,” Ingrid says, lips twisting wryly. “She still thinks, deep down, we can play nice. We’ve tried to keep her from getting her hands dirty, but it doesn’t mean she doesn’t need to know it’s happening.”
I switch my attention back to my food, which suddenly has lost its luster. A part of me wonders what happened to the innocent, quiet programmer I used to be. But another, more honest part of me knows I was never that empathetic. It’s perhaps my greatest strength and flaw in this world. I care, in the abstract.
Chapter 15
“We want another settlement,” the mantis-like creature on the opposite side of the projection demands for the umpteenth time.
“And we can help you take an open settlement. But you can’t hold it,” I say, folding my hands across one another.
“You will help.”
“Not going to happen.”
“Then we will not vote.”
“Okay,” I say and kill the connection with a thought.
“I think now’s when you come back with a counter-offer,” Ali says helpfully and sarcastically.
“Nope,” I say, shaking my head. “They’ll call back. It’s called playing hard ball.”
“And if they don’t?”
“They will.”
“And if they don’t?” Ali repeats.
“Then I find someone else, perhaps one of their neighbors, who wants two new settlements. And we kick their asses together,” I say heatedly.
“And time! Bits for brains, delay all calls,” Ali says. “Boy-o needs a blood sugar transfusion.”
“Oh, come on…” I growl, but Ali’s raised eyebrow makes me subside.
I sigh, fishing out some chocolates while Ali makes arrangements for a snack to arrive. Just because I’m angry doesn’t mean my blood sugar is low. I learned to regulate my blood sugar levels and those issues with the enhances in my Constitution a long time ago. A good thing too, since I ran out of chocolates in the first two months on the planet.
“Want to talk about it?” Ali says.
“No.”
“Good. I didn’t really want to listen.”
We sit quietly for a time before I finally break. “I hate this. The horse trading, the negotiations. It was so much easier earlier. When it was just our swords, our spells, our Skills. And I can see it in them, the greed, the desire to take everything they can just because we need it, I need it.”
“Way of the world, boy-o,” Ali says.
“Maybe. But I don’t have to like it,” I say softly. “And I don’t like how far I’m willing to go.”
“But you’re not going to change.”
“No.” I meet the Spirit’s eyes. There’s a shared understanding there, one we cannot speak about. Not here, not where others might learn of it. We both saw what would happen, could happen in the Forbidden Zone. The consequences of being too liberal with our knowledge, our goals. The price of failure. And the disastrous future which awaits every race, every planet. A world, racked with Mana, where even the callous benevolence of the System is missing.
“Eat,” Ali says softly. “Then we’ve got another four calls. Afterwards, we’ll run a dungeon for the evening till you grind that last level.”
I nod, staring at the thread of my experience bar. Just a little more, then I’ll hit Level 20. Just a little more. But first, a sn
ack.
***
“I can have your settlement added to our trade list and the teleportation portal’s coordinates. We’ll also designate a minimum of two tons of the brew for your settlements,” I say, tapping my fingers slowly. “But you’re going to have to guarantee delivery of at least six tonnes of that Limehouse Barley you have there.”
“Five,” chirps the bird-like creature.
I’ve given up on names by now, beyond the usual glances at the floating information when I need to actually name it. It doesn’t help that Chirp here has a name I actually can’t say.
“Done. Contract will be on the way.”
***
“No. We won’t ban the Hakarta from this world.”
“They are untrustworthy and deceitful.” A merman speaks now, floating in inky darkness, illuminated only by the light of the communication screen. One thing they don’t tell you about the ocean is that it’s pitch black down there, if you get down far enough.
“Those words mean the same thing. But they already have a deal with us,” I say. “And three settlements.”
“Useless. I knew you were our enemies like them. We will burn you humans out!”
“Feel free to come after me. Or my settlements,” I say, leaning forward as my voice grows cold. “But touch a hair on any innocents and I’ll be coming for you.”
“You think I fear a new Master Class like you? We are the rulers of the ocean!”
“Maybe not today. Or tomorrow. But in a year? Two? You’ve seen my Leveling speed. How long do you think it’s going to take for me to become a real threat?”
My threat shuts up the merman, gills at the side of his neck opening and closing as he flushes water out. Rather than speak—and really, it’s more of a mental command to an integrated communicator in his head—the notification cuts out.