CHAPTER THIRTY NINE
I’m up! Wha-? Huh!?
Richard sprang to a sitting position, so fast and so suddenly, that he somehow managed to catapult himself into the roof of the tent. Ultimately catching some pretty gnarly air time, but, of course, it couldn’t just end there. The canvas was stretched taught, several guy lined snapped, and soon the whole thing came crashing down on top of a wriggling pile of incorrigibly excitable children. Richard forced to extricate himself from the deflated canvas to the sounds of shrieking, and often times, giggling.
And of course, as they were wont to do, one thing led to another, the adults got involved, and only after they’d been assured, on multiple occasions, that, yes, everyone was okay, no, no one had been hurt, and no, they had no idea what could’ve possibly happened, did their nosy minders finally get about their own lambed business. Richard watched them once more venture out into the forest with what could only be described as relief.
Finally!
Richard rose from where he’d sat cradled in Alice’s arms, completely oblivious to the adorable little pout she made in response. Thus turning those weaponized puppy dog eyes into one’s of genuine offense. Evidently there had been very few occasions in which that particular tactic hadn’t worked. Grumbling, Alice set to devouring her own hearty breakfast with a passion.
Her movements only slightly more aggressive than they needed to be.
Never missing the opportunity to spear something with her fork extra hard, or shoot angry looks his way. Eventually, when not even this seemed to sway him to retake his seat, she gave up with a shrug and joined the others in their nonsensical chatter. Fingers and toes warmed by the glowing embers of a dying fire, as they fantasized about the day to come. Richard, for his part, ignored them wholesale, too preoccupied with something of far greater importance.
-|—Status—|-
Name: Richard Penn
Level: 15 [Locked]
Age: 1 month old
Class: None [Pending]
Body Grade: G [Pending] [2 Star Prestige]
Soul Grade: G
Core Grade: Blank (1st Level Purity)
Master Formation: G
Peerage: Lowly Serf
Noble Regalia: None
Strength: 14 -> 22
Endurance: 13 -> 21
Resilience: 90 (MAX)
Regeneration: 13 -> 16
Control: 30 -> 38
Mana Capacity: 9 -> 10
Free Points: 0
Abilities: (0/2)
Class Skills: (0/3)
Equipment: (0/7)
Title: |Liora’s Embrace| [Legendary]
No wonder his morning had gotten off to such an explosive start. He’d gained nearly as much in one night of peaceful slumber, as two back to back breakthroughs had given him on the whole. Richard flexed his biceps experimentally, then did a few pistol squats. Did his legs look… bigger? The muscle more pronounced? Looking down his onesie he couldn’t see any visible abs, though his core definitely felt tighter.
Buff baby. Now that’s something that’ll surely strike fear into the hearts of my enemies.
Taking a few exploratory steps, just to recalibrate his coordination, Richard began to make his way around the campfire pit. After a few minutes of this—nearly tripping over his feet, or catapulting himself into the tree line with every other wobbly step—he eventually managed to find his equilibrium.
Dusting off his hands, he peered up at the early morning sun, just barely peeking over the eastern tree line. Then he spun, ready to break the bad news in as expedient a way as possible, only to start back in surprise when he found the whole gang had already fallen into line. Backpacks packed and strapped, expectant looks on their faces. He paused.
“Hmm. So… what are the odds I can convince you all to stay behind?”
In response, the gaggle of impudent brats shared a cheeky grin.
+++
Despite the fact that they’d ranged farther afield than they ever had before, they were actually making rather excellent time. At least in comparison to yesterday.
***WARNING!***
You have entered a higher level zone!
|-|—Middling F Grade—|-|
(Lvls 30 - 50)
Please consider relocating to a zone more appropriate for your grade and level.
The air was crisp, the sun was shining, and the canopy above was alive with birdsong.
A dagger whizzed through the air, narrowly navigating the gap between the musical monkey’s clanging symbols. Flipping end over end to bury itself in the furry chest of the bug eyed primate. The unnatural force behind the throw launching it several feet backward. Nailing it to the trunk of a tree several meters behind. It’s cymbal clanging continuing for only a brief second or two more, before, like an animatronic with it’s power cut, the body went limp.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Somewhere unseen, a bubbling brook chortles merrily, joining harmonies with the ponderous creak of branches, and the rustling of myriad leaves.
The spear tip lashed out, blinding the five foot tall primate in a fountain of sparkly rainbow gore. Returning on the backswing to lamb near take its head off. Rainbow slick blade catching it squarely through the jugular. Horizontal slash trailing a crescent arc of colorful glitter—splattering the ground and nearby trees—even as it returned to a ready position in anticipation of the next enemy. The swiftly executed strike cutting off the beasts piteous shrieks, and that god awful clanging besides.
The forest is alive, home to all manner of critters. From the teensiest insect, to the most fearsome of predators. Each and every one of them living by one simple rule. The law of nature, the circle of life. The cycle by which all things are born, and to which all eventually return in the end, and-!
“Oh, cut the crap already! Is this a florking joke or what? Just how many these forking things are there?!”
+—|-Cymbal Clang Primate-|—+
?[Lvl 30]?
+—|-Cymbal Clang Primate-|—+
?[Lvl 31]?
+—|-Cymbal Clang Primate-|—+
?[Lvl 33]?
Richard spun, evading a reckless tackle by one of the beasts, even as he deflected two brass cymbals from another. Spear shaft clanging against the platter sized disks with yet another harsh reverberation. This didn’t help his mood any. In a fit of peak, Richard pulled his spear back, and, instead of thrusting, parrying, or slashing, began to beat the poor ape over the head with all the strength he possessed.
“Clang! Clang! Clang!” he timed his swings with every bitter exclamation. “That’s all there is with you people! My god. Would you please just give it a rest already!”
He turned around just in time to swat aside another two monkeys with great big sweeps of his spear. Not even deigning to dispatch them before turning back to his chosen victim with a snarl. The thing was only just beginning to get back onto its feet, clearly nursing a broken arm, when Richard renewed his assault with even greater intensity.
“Being,” smash! “So,” clang! “Lambed repetitive,” crash! “Doesn’t even help you in the end! If anything it only makes you more predictable!”
As if on cue, Richard heard a clang from just behind him, ducked and rolled before the cymbals could clamp shut around his skull, then spun, taking the would be assassin’s legs out from under them. Literally. It’s shrieks silenced by a spear point through the heart. Slowly, Richard turned back to the twisted pile of broken bones and warped percussion instruments. No pity in his eyes, only steely contempt. He raised his spear high. Then brought it down with all his might.
“Unless,” crack! “Your only strategy,” crunch! “Was to annoy me to death,” clang! “All you’ve really done,” squelch! “Is piss me off!”
Squelch! Squelch! Squelch! Splock!
Breathing heavily, Richard raised a shaking hand and whipped away the mask of liquid rainbow glitter that’d sheathed his face. He glanced up from his crouch at the fifteen or so cymbal touting monkeys that were left. And for a moment, just the briefest moment, the crowd of lvl 30 monsters hesitated—looking like they might even take a wary step back. The forest completely silent, but for Richard’s belabored panting. Of course, only a second passed before that brief glimmer of intelligence in their eyes winked out, the pack of primates charged, and the ungodly racket started up again.
Richard threw back his head and howled.
“LAMB IT ALL!”
+++
One thing that came with a sharp increase in the strength attribute—as it related less to the strength of one’s musculature, than the esoteric concept of body strengthening itself—was a heightened sensitivity to sensations.
Lights, scents, smells, and sounds far more intense than they had any right to be in the hours immediately following their rapid increase. It was an adjustment period most spent in dark, candle scented seclusion. Richard spent it, meanwhile, being harried by an endless horde of clamorous primates with a propensity for jumping out of bushes and dropping down from trees.
In all their time traversing this Middling F Grade zone, they hadn’t been ambushed once, not twice, not thrice, but ten florking times!
Their party practically harassed by the tenacious primates up and down the forest floor—an unwanted encounter sprung on them for every minute they ventured further. It wasn’t just infuriating, it was downright maddening! His sour mood not aided any by the asinine hallucinations constantly taunting him from all sides. Because of course, he couldn’t just up and waste such a golden opportunity.
Any time spent breathing, could be spent training after all. And training his muscles with every encounter, while funneling mana towards his soul seal during the moments of downtime, was drastically aiding him in the growth department.
That it only added to the clamor clanging away in his head, plaguing him with intense mood swings besides, was merely a side effect of what were sure to be massive gains. Didn’t mean he had to like it, however. And as for why he insisted upon pushing deeper into the ape infested forest, despite his swiftly rising temper, mounting irritation, and the headache threatening to split his skull? Well, the answer to that question was really quite simple.
Spite. Pure, petty, vindictive spite. Because, not long after entering the forest, his Mighty Monster Slayer senses had pinged the general location of a roaming elite. The boss mob of these irredeemable creatures. And for all the troubles it’s minions had caused him, Richard was going to tear it limb from limb, then consume it’s body whole.
+++
Dappled shade cooled and contoured the bodies of the several dozen Cymbal Clang Primates.
Running along their fur, even as they reclined atop the branches of several neighboring trees. All was blanketed in a shroud of peaceful tranquility. The creak of branches, the rustle of leaves, and the occasional breeze adding to the general air of relaxation. The primates themselves either busy dozing off, roughhousing, or else engaged in intimate grooming rituals. The symbols that were their name sake, and their greatest weapon besides, set aside for the time being.
After all, what need had they for such precautions so deep inside their very own territory?
The Cymbal Clang Alpha, standing head and shoulders above its normal compatriots, reclined on the tallest, thickest branch of them all. Of all those in the surrounding territory, in fact. It would have to be, to support its prodigious bulk. Every pound of it hard, lean muscle, barely covered by a patchy coat of fur. Tall and bedraggled looking, with bloodshot eyes, and a mouth overflowing with wicked yellowed canines, the Cymbal Clang Alpha looked as if it were pulled directly from a child’s worst nightmare. An outdated children’s toy that should’ve never made it off the assembly line.
Like many of its brethren, the alpha dozed. Half lidded eyes seemingly blind to the outside world. An assumption that was ultimately proven false, when it deftly caught the whizzing dagger aimed for its throat. Casually, the elite opened one eye to inspect the peculiarity. A simple weapon, chipped and scratched, it seemed nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, if it’d had the capacity to do so, the elite might have doubted it was capable of leaving a scratch on its incredibly tough hide—even moving at the speeds it’d been thrown.
Seeing no imminent threat in the trifle, the Cymbal Clang Alpha was about to toss the weapon aside, when its script latched onto something peculiar. Secured to the simple hilt of the dagger with thin wire, there was what looked to be a power stone. The azure gemstone practically bursting with energy. And, now that it looked more closely, there also appeared to be strange symbols etched into the blade, running down and all along its length. Not that the latter interested it much, but the former…?
It was just as it was about to pluck free the precious stone and consume it to grow in power, that it began to dim rapidly, even as the strange symbols, meanwhile, grew brighter and brighter. The elite was only allowed a second to open both bloodshot eyes wide in surprise, before the thing in its hands exploded.
BANG!
+++
This time, Richard didn’t stop throwing slapdash projectiles until he was absolutely positive the elite was dead.
It put up a bit of resistance near the end there. Using it’s large golden cymbals as impromptu shields, it rushed him in a bid to close to cymbal bashing range. Thankfully, his newfound strength allowed him to maintain the distance. Keeping far enough away that the area of attack ability it possessed—an explosive wave of sound and force that tore leaves from branches and blasted away dirt in concentric waves—was merely deafening, as opposed to outright debilitating.
Pelting the alpha with explosive daggers all the while—until its cymbals more resembled bent and pockmarked scrap, than they did instruments.
*DING!*
?-|—(You have slain an enemy: ALPHA CYMBAL CLANG PRIMATE [Lvl 50 ELITE])—|-?
Experience Gained. Bonus Experience Gained for Slaying a Monster Elite. Participation Points Gained. Bonus Participation Points Gained for Slaying a Monster Elite.
[+1000 Participation Points]
Phew!
With a sigh of relief, Richard plucked the lime green ability cube from his chest, instantly silencing the many voices he’d almost grown accustomed to. Stepping lightly, he leapt the several meters distance separating himself from the fallen corpse of the elite. Slapping his hand down on it’s rainbow covered hide, just as several dozen flashes went off all throughout the secluded little den. The gang of toddlers scurried out from their clever little hiding places, like little elves on Christmas Eve. Hurrying to gather up all the f grade crystals before the glow from their coalescence faded.
Richard for his part, stared down on his defeated enemy, the glow of triumph burning in his chest. Until, that is, he gave the beast a closer look, all the matted hair, the diseased looking skin, the metal bits and colorful muscle. He then contemplated putting all that inside his body. Suddenly, he wasn’t looking nearly so triumphant as before.
The little empress floated over till she was hovering above his left shoulder. Following his gaze, she too scrutinized the bloody elite. Richard expected, any minute now to see a ping in the top corner of his vision. To receive a message saying something like “Is food?” or “Can eat?”
Instead, all he received from the budding imperial, was a pitying look, and a soft pat on the back. Richard slumped.
“This- this is going to suck, isn’t it?”
In response, all he got was a solemn nod.
