Level One God

Minara was surprisingly willing to be on hand to heal me if anything went wrong. Bloody Steve was happy to watch—not that I asked him to—as long as I agreed to let him have any blood that might result from my little experiments. When I got set up in the center of an area where Bloody Steve had knocked all the trees away, almost everybody was gathered around in a circle to observe, save for the little girls from Riverwell and the adults keeping them busy.

Minara sat on her knees across from me, eyes serious. Lyria was right behind me. She had her shield out as if she was ready to knock me over the head if I got too carried away. Bloody Steve watched as if I were about to grill some juicy steaks.

“Alright,” I said, “so I’m just going to start with a tiny little bit…” I had decided to go for my pinky toe. I didn’t want to live with only one pinky toe, but I also figured it would be the easiest body part to forget if I melted it off.

Given the choice between projecting poison on myself and dripping it from the Alchemist’s Kit, I decided the kit was safest.

The idea was that my helmet should help me resist the poison. Since I’d been given an accomplishment for surviving an attempted poisoning way back on my first day, I assumed that meant it still counted. Worst case, I’d be pushing myself closer to higher tiers of the achievement this way. I earned a common armor token for that one. Maybe ten poisonings would get me a rare? It was worth hoping, at least, and I was pretty sure I’d resisted several other poisons and venoms so far. Maybe I’d only have to do this a few times to get the next accomplishment.

I met Minara’s eyes. “Ready?” I asked.

“I don’t like this,” Lyria said.

“Your objection has been noted,” I said absently. I knew this was insane. But from how Circa described it, I couldn’t comfortably coast and hope to stand a shot at surviving. Advancing my levels and even my rank wasn’t enough. I needed to push myself to take the hard route at every opportunity. And the vision of Seraphel—me—in that room with the other gods had only furthered my resolve.

There was a threat out there. Something terrible enough to push a god to wipe his memory and start over from scratch for an extra edge. I didn’t have to know what the threat was yet. It was enough to know I had to get stronger, and I couldn’t waste time doing it. I needed to be ready for whatever was coming.

Whatever the cost may be.

“Ready,” Minara said. “Just start small.”

I braced myself as I tilted the bottle. Something inside bubbled just as it was about to release a drop. Instead of one tiny drip of poison, I was splashed with enough to cover all my toes and the top of my foot.

The pain didn’t register immediately. First, I saw steam rising up from my bubbling flesh. Then, the sulfuric tang reached my nose. Then the pain came.

It was blinding.

I distantly heard Bloody Steve clapping. The townspeople were covering the eyes of the little girls. I thought I felt Lyria holding my shoulders and rubbing them reassuringly. Kass looked away with a sympathetic ooh, and Perch wasn’t interested enough to watch at all.

Minara had both hands raised over my bubbling flesh, light blossoming.

Rot Poison Resisted by [Voidgaze (?)(Gold)?]

I gritted my teeth, breathing hard through the agony. It sure as hell didn’t feel like I was resisting anything. It felt like my foot had been dipped into lava.

I rode the waves of agony and nausea while Minara muttered under her breath, working her spell. When she sat back with a resigned expression, I was afraid to look at my foot. From how it felt, I expected to see a shiny nub of bone sticking out from my shin.

I risked a glance at my wound. The bubbling had stopped, and my skin was replaced with fresh, raw pink. It looked like I was recovering from a terrible sunburn.

I slumped backward and nearly stabbed Lyria with the horns on my helmet. She gave my head a metallic knock with her knuckles. “Watch it,” she warned, but then her voice softened. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” I said shakily.

“I think that was plenty for today,” Lyria said.

“It worked,” I said, giving everybody a thumbs up. “I still have five toes, and I’ve found a great way to remove my toe hairs if I’m ever in a pinch. I’d call this a resounding victory.”

“Toe hair is underrated,” Kass said thoughtfully.

Perch bunched his forehead in disbelief, surprising me with a small laugh. “What?” he asked.

Kass grinned. “I think it’s sexy. A little quaff on the big toe… A little wave across the top of the foot? It’s elegant. It’s stylish.”

Perch shook his head at his brother and folded his arms.

Bloody Steve was staring at my foot, arms crossed. “Not very bloody, was it?”

“You’re right,” I said. I felt a little delirious as the echoes of pain still jolted through me. “There is always room for improvement, but at least it worked.”

“What worked, precisely?” Kass asked. His hand was on his chin, and his eyes were narrowed. “It looked like the poison nearly burned your foot off… Didn’t you already know it would do that?”

“Nearly burned my foot off. But look! Minara patched me up. Good as new.”

Lyria made a disgusted sound and stood. “I’m not watching this,” she said.

“Thanks,” I said to Minara as I sat upright, still staring at my foot.

“You’re welcome… While unconventional, that is a good way to practice my abilities. I suppose.”

I grinned. “Guess who has two thumbs, two feet, and more rot poison?” I pointed both thumbs at my chest. “This guy…”

Everybody stared as if they weren’t sure I was serious.

I gave the potion a little swirl, then splashed my other foot.

This time, I screamed.

#

My feet, arms, hands, and legs still tingled. I’d admittedly gotten a little carried away. Part of me thought I could push my Elemental Body passive to Tier 2 in one session, but it was still Tier 1. I’d also earned myself a new accomplishment for my trouble.

[Rare Accomplishment] Survive (10) attempted poisonings. [Reward - Rare Armor Token] “That was… something. Wow. You know, I have to admit I’m kind of starting to see why you became what you became before. With the way you screamed and convulsed that second time, I was so sure you learned your lesson and were never going to do that again. But you just kept going. I want you to know I was equally disgusted and impressed.

“I’m pretty sure you are supposed to earn this accomplishment from living a terrible life, by the way. Like for being the kind of person people hate so much they’re always trying to poison. And I’m not supposed to hint at this kind of thing, but the next number you need is huge. So you should just give up on trying to get the Epic one right now, Mister.

"You’re probably not going to give up on it, are you?”

That was encouraging. Even if the next tier of the accomplishment needed a hundred or two hundred attempted poisonings, it would be worth it for an epic token. And I could eventually push beyond that to legendary and then the final tier, getting a shot at a cursed, demonic, or angelic reward.

Hell yeah. I just needed a good healer on hand, a metric ton of willpower, and a dose of insanity. I thought I could manage all that.

I wondered if there were other similar loopholes to exploit if you had the right gear and abilities. Or would there be some type of failsafe to keep them from getting ultra-powerful rewards by cheating. With how rare Circa and Lyria seemed to imply top-level rewards were, I thought maybe I was being too optimistic.

Lyria sent me out to gather wood so we could make a fire, which I think was partly just to stop me from dumping more rot poison on myself. I had to admit it was hard to imagine going back to that level of pain. Maybe a small break was good for me.

It wasn’t that I was masochistic or enjoyed the agony in any way. It was just that I’d always approached life with a maximalist mentality. I liked the challenge of finding the most efficient way of doing things and getting there quickly. If I went on a hike more than once, I liked to see if I could find a better route the second time. If I played a new game, I usually spent hours reading strategies to use the most effective ways to reach the top. I had even shaved a year off my training to become an EMT by attending classes at night and in the morning.

I knew some people had seen me as a glutton for punishment, but that was never quite right. I got a thrill from pursuing perfection, not from the pain or the discomfort. I did it for those fleeting moments of excellence—when time seemed to stop, and I could watch myself performing a task without fault. That feeling was a drug for me, and I’d always been the type to chase it in whatever realm I found myself.

The fact that I now had skills I could level up and visibly improve with repetition and focus was practically a dream come true. The clear progression of power I’d seen in bumping my Elemental Projection skill to Tier 2 spiked my body with endorphins, and I was already craving more. I wanted to push all my abilities to their absolute maximum. I wanted to experiment and see where the limits were. I wanted to know what happened when my tiers increased, or my corestone evolved. I wanted to learn what the remaining skills were within my common corestone that I hadn’t discovered yet. I wanted to find all kinds of herbs and figure out what else I could brew with my potion.

I was so hungry for it all I could barely keep it contained. Some small voice in the back of my mind wondered if I should feel more mournful about my past life on Earth—if it meant something was wrong with me for being so ready to immerse myself in this new life and world. But what else was I supposed to do? This was my “now,” and I wasn’t about to squander it worrying and mourning something I could never get back.

Here, it felt like the only thing standing between me and reaching what I wanted was… well, the clear and ever-present threat of a gruesome death. Conveniently for me, the best armor against that was to keep training and keep trying to get stronger.

I was lost in my thoughts as I made a half-assed attempt to find wood. Mostly, I was using my meditation technique that made my veins feel like they were about to pop with pressure. I hoped I wasn’t imagining the feeling of my mana capacity gradually increasing with this method. If it was imaginary, I was putting myself through some slight misery for no reason.

A branch cracked ahead of me. I jerked my head up.

“Guys?” I asked.

Something made a rapid clicking noise.

Fuck. I glanced over my shoulder, trying to judge how far I was from the group. Maybe a minute or two if I ran full speed? Probably too far for them to hear me if I shouted.

A beetle walked into view. It was standing upright and was the size of a bear. Its whole body was covered in shiny, blood-red carapace, and it dragged a halberd behind it, as if it was too heavy for its small arms. The weapon left a deep groove in the dirt. The halberd looked like it was made of interlocking insect parts, oddly molded perfectly into the shape of a weapon.

[Carapax Guard, Level 30 (Wood)] “Carapax society revolves around the Queen’s nectar. All they want to do is bring the Queen food, keep her protected, and let her secrete the mysterious nectar. Alright, there’s actually one more thing they like to do… But it’s really, really gross and will not be dignified by putting it down in writing. Dip your imagination in the gutter, and then use it.

“Unfortunately for carapax society, the Queen’s nectar is an extremely useful augment to elixirs and potions. A few drops will bump the rarity of most potions up an entire tier.

“Nature can be cruel sometimes, huh? Just kidding… Nature is the kind of woman who twists a knife while whispering that your mother never loved you. Or the kind of woman who creates bugs and then has them doing… that. Often. In so, so many positions. Just why, nature? Why?”

I took a steadying breath and pulled out my Alchemist’s Kit.

To my surprise, I felt surprisingly calm. Maybe the metric shit-ton of things I’d already had to stand and fight against in the past few days was hardening me more than I realized.

“Hey there,” I said. I still felt a little loopy from the blinding pain I’d just endured, which might explain why I thought it made sense to lift my hand and wave to the giant beetle. “Any chance you’ve got some of that magic queen nectar on you?”

Speaking was stupid for two reasons. One, the carapax seemed to understand me. Two, it absolutely did not like the implication of my question.