Level One God

Muscles burning, I held my bow fully drawn, waiting for a shot as I took in the newcomers.

All four were Woods between levels 30 and 45. One man and woman both had short-trimmed hair and the same vertical white bars tattooed on one cheek. They were both humans, maybe around thirty years old. The man had a thick, braided brown beard, and his body was crisscrossed with scars.

The woman’s features were hard and serious. A thick, puckered scar ran across her mouth, twisting it so it looked like she wore a permanent grimace.

The other man and woman had dark skin that glimmered with purple points of light—almost like snow, but inverted and hue-shifted. Their features were also slightly cat-like. Their eyes were upturned and wider than normal, and their noses seemed abnormally small.

They both had black hair braided tightly to their heads.

I halfway read the description of their race as the impending chaos came closer.

[Sekmeti, Level 42 (Wood)] “The sekmeti originate from the Sekmet Sands, often said to be the birthplace of civilization. The Sekmet Sands and The Bone Wastes—home to the kiergard race—sit at an equal distance from three of Eros’ most infamous and deadly dungeons. The dungeons, known as The Necropolis, The Inferno, and The Black Keep, provide valuable training and rewards for the kingdom that controls them.

“The sekmeti and kiergard have fought countless wars dating back thousands of years over these dungeons. While the rivalry was often considered to be a stalemate in power, the kiergard employed an unknown secret weapon centuries ago, tipping the scales. The final battle was said to be so bloody that even the Sekmet Sands couldn’t drink another drop when it was through.

“Sekmeti are now largely an enslaved race, save for the few who have ingratiated themselves or married into the kiergard to pass over valuable royal houses peacefully.”

I was sure I would be super interested in all that when monsters weren’t tearing through a narrow tunnel toward me.

When I realized I would never get a clear shot, I decided to improvise.

The tunnel was somewhat circular, so I tried to run a step or two up the wall before jumping, bow still drawn. Once I was clear over the heads of the approaching Woods, I fired off an arrow.

It zipped forward, missing my intended target so badly that it hit the nightmaw behind it instead.

Good enough, I thought, just before I landed in a somewhat graceful crouch and zapped my Silver Scream bow to my slip space since that was my last infused arrow for the moment.

Nobody needs to know which one I was aiming for.

I pulled my Elemental Spike from my belt loop, which was slowly draining mana as I kept it summoned. Unlike my Forge Echoes, I realized the way I had woven the mana was helping to trap the mana within the spell more efficiently. The mana cost was significantly reduced, and the spell seemed stronger.

I needed to remember to thank Lyria for that later.

The shadow webs the sekmeti woman sprayed were doing a good job of slowing the nightmaws. Combined with the musical magic, which made them move faster, they would reach us well before the enemies did.

The nightmaw I shot with the arrow was also too busy pulling sticky shadow webs off its body to yank out the arrow, which was good.

The group of four skidded to a stop when they saw the caved-in tunnel just around the corner behind us. I could read the look on their faces.

They hadn’t been planning to fight. They were just trying to escape, even if it meant running straight past me and Lyria.

“Hi,” I said, dagger in hand. “Need some help?”

The sekmeti man was almost as tall as me. He fixed me with silver eyes, dark face oddly mesmerizing up close. He nodded and whistled again, and I felt a refreshing coldness on my legs. I looked down and saw his musical spell had extended to me and Lyria.

If that wasn’t a gesture of companionship, I didn’t know what was.

The human man was muscular but built lean, more like a tennis player than a bodybuilder. The woman beside him had the same kind of look about her.

“I’ll get them distracted,” the human man said. “Either of you two have any firepower? We’re all pretty drained,” he said quickly.

I reached my perception out, touching each of their mana cores. The sekmeti woman had the most mana remaining. The human woman was completely dry, and the sekmeti man was running on fumes. The human man had about half of his mana remaining, though. All of their cores were different in interesting ways, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it.

“We’re low, too,” I said. “But we’ve got some firepower. Yeah.”

“Good enough,” the man said.

The woman spraying shadows grunted and threw her hands around as if she was throwing a barrage of invisible darts. Dozens of sticky, dark purple webs shot out, stringing themselves in crisscrossing patterns between us and the nightmaws.

“I’m Thorn,” the man with the white bar tattoos on his cheek and the thick, chest-length beard said. “That’s Sylara.” He pointed to the woman with the same tattoos as him. “The sekmeti are called Zahra and Ramzi.” He indicated that Zahra was the girl throwing shadow magic and Ramzi was the man with the music-themed abilities.

“Brynn and Lyria,” I said quickly. My eyes were on the nightmaws, who were pushing themselves through the webs but covering themselves in sticky magic as they did. I saw globs of shadows forming thick ropes from their limbs to their torso and legs, slowing their movements even after they made it through the barricades.

Thorn gave Sylara a look, and they both made the same gesture—hooking their thumb and forefinger into a circle and holding it over one eye toward the approaching enemies.

After that, Thorn thumped his chest, and a metal chain burst out of his body. The chain was only a foot long, and it began spinning around him as a glowing red shield formed on the end.

It spun fast enough that the shield crossed in front of his face every second or so. If that was a defensive ability, it was a powerful one—especially if the rotation of that shield would hit enemies with force.

I watched the ability with fascination, noting how the chain wasn’t actually connected to his skin, but magically emerging from within his body so its rotation caused no visible damage.

A second later, one of the nightmaws pushed completely through the webbing only about twenty feet away from our group. Thorn gripped the chain in one hand, letting momentum carry the shield in one loop over his head before he released it.

The shield launched itself forward—chain magically growing longer as it flew. The shield and chain arced just above the nightmaw, barely missing.

But then Thorn gave the chain a hard tug, yanking it and the shield toward him. The shield slammed into the back of the nightmaw, staggering it. Thorn punched the air with his free hand, firing out a second chain tipped with a nasty, barbed hook.

The hook sunk into the nightmaw’s stomach and then Thorn was yanked forward, flying at the enemy like a human projectile.

He stuck both fists out like Superman, punching it hard as he arrived and sending them both to the ground. He gripped the shield chain, fighting in an impressive flurry where he alternated between tugging the nightmaw closer with the spear chain and slamming the shield chain around in complex patterns to batter the enemy.

After the third hit, the shield and all the chains exploded in a shower of red sparks. He was already almost completely out of mana.

Lyria, Sylara, and I had started running to join the fight as soon as he yanked himself into melee range.

With his magic gone, the nightmaw quickly turned the tide of the fight, landing several crushing blows before finally getting a hand around Thorn’s neck.

Lyria pointed her shield at the nightmaw gripping Thorn and used her Petrify ability, giving Thorn a chance to break free of its grip. He clapped both hands on either side of the nightmaw’s head, large hands squeezing so hard I could hear the sound of the beast’s bones creaking.

As soon as it broke free, the man and the beast fell to the ground, locked in a struggle. He was on his back with his hands on either side of its face, and it was viciously tearing at him with its claws, spraying blood and gore in every direction.

I panicked as I tried to think of a way to help. It was happening so damn fast.

Sylara was already slashing at the beast from behind, and Lyria had joined her, sword rising and falling.

But the second nightmaw had just burst through the shadow webs behind the fight, and nobody else seemed to see it. Ramzi and Zahra must have been ranged fighters because they were hanging back and trying to help Thorn.

I clumsily threw my focus into Thorn and urged his core to devour what was left of his mana, healing the worst of his wounds even as the relentless flurry of attacks tore fresh ones into him. Maybe he would have preferred to keep what he had, but I didn’t have time to second-guess the decision. If he had enough left to use his abilities, I couldn’t imagine a more dire situation to save them for. I had to assume he was too tapped out to use anything.

I moved to Lyria’s left, barely slipping past the desperate fight as I faced the second nightmaw alone. This one was pierced with a Silver Scream arrow, and looked extra pissed about it.

The claws on one of its hands were glowing purple with some strange magic.

Note to self: avoid those.

I expected to feel fear as I stood facing it all by myself. But there was only resolve and confidence. I could do this.

Maybe some shadow of the old me was still lurking inside. I clung to that thought, leaning on my instincts in the hope that it would be enough to get me through the fight.

I drew my Elemental Spike in one hand, holding it low. I locked eyes with the nightmaw and shut out the background chaos of the rest of the group trying to help Thorn. He'd be in trouble if I couldn’t stop this second nightmaw. I had to trust them to deal with it while I handled this.

I realized I didn’t need to grab a potion to use Elemental Projection because my Elemental Spike was full of Viperlilly. I could project the poison straight from the dagger.

So I did.

I raised my left palm and pressed a shockingly strong burst of Viperlilly out at the nightmaw. It splashed in its face and chest, hitting so hard that some poison bounced back and hit me.

I saw a few quick notifications about my helmet resisting the poison.

Very good to know. I couldn’t risk getting it on my allies, but I wouldn’t need to worry about this stuff getting on myself. Hell, I should try to get it on myself for the accomplishment progress.

The nightmaw raised one thick, hairy arm and lowered its dog-like head. I cut the stream of poison off and ran toward it.

Ten feet.

Five feet.

I activated Abyssal Step just before its swipe had a chance to take my face off. I passed straight through its body, spun, and reversed my grip on the Elemental Spike.

One… Two…

I jumped in the air, squeezing the magical knife in both hands as I drove it down hard into the center of the beast’s back. I aimed for the spine, even though I wasn’t sure if some magical property or physiological quirks would protect it.

The knife drove in deep, but I didn’t feel the resistance of the bone.

There was only hard, meaty flesh. A moment later, hot blood and stinging Viperlilly poison spurted from the wound as if the Elemental Spike was functioning like a high-powered, hypodermic needle—firing jets of poison into my enemy with each strike.

Badass.

At the same time, I created a Forge Echo of my Elemental Spike in front of the nightmaw and urged it to make rapid, blind jabs for its eyes.

To my relief, the beast was dumb enough to swipe at the Echo instead of turning toward me. With one hand, I grabbed a clump of rotten-smelling fur. I wrapped my legs around its narrow waist, hanging on its back like a monkey as I stabbed with my free hand again and again, spraying poison and blood everywhere.

I pushed so hard with the Forge Echo that it burst through the nightmaw’s head and came out the back. Poison gushed from every wound, and the creature finally slowed, staggered, and began to fall.

I let go, pushing off and speeding up its face-first descent to the cave floor.

It landed in a cloud of dust, poison, and blood.

Wow. I killed it before Silver Scream even detonated. Elemental Spike might be my new favorite ability, minus the part where I have to get in melee range.

I was panting and smiling triumphantly at my handiwork when I noticed Thorn and the others were still trying to take down the first nightmaw.

Thorn was a bloody mess—and not in the British sense. He was glistening wet with blood. Pieces of him had been torn away. He was coughing and struggling but still squeezing hard on the monster’s head.

I remembered the tooltip about the nightmaw’s regenerative properties, suddenly wondering if it was how the thing was still alive and fighting despite hundreds of wounds from Sylara and Lyria’s attacks.

The sekmeti man whistled a sharp note. I felt the mana in the musical vibrations and vaguely sensed how he seemed to be able to manipulate mana within the music. As soon as it passed over the enemy, he forced it into their head and amplified it so it bounced around discordantly.

The nightmaw had been about to backhand Lyria, but it flinched as the magic hit.

I took the opportunity to stab it hard with my Elemental Spike. I aimed for a spine again, even though I didn’t know if it helped.

With Lyria and Sylara also swinging wildly, it was dangerous just to get close, but I took my chances.

I summoned a Forge Echo and rammed it in along with my strikes, simply mirroring my attacks to pump the creature full of poison more quickly.

I was operating on a roughly formed idea that the Viperlilly was counteracting the nightmaw’s regenerative abilities. The more I got into its system, the—

Thorn’s hands, which had been relentlessly squeezing the nightmaw’s face from either side, came together with a very loud, very wet clap.

The now-headless beast went suddenly limp, landing on top of Thorn with a thud.

God. That’s fucking gross.

Lyria, Sylara, and I helped pull the big creature off him, and I got my first real look at how much damage he had suffered.

He was torn to shreds. I didn’t know how he was still breathing.

Ramzi whistled a soft note, and I felt it reverberate inside Thorn, swelling and sending out ripples from the most damaged areas.

Some kind of healing ability, maybe?

Sylara knelt by Thorn’s side, cupping his bleeding head in her hands. “My love. Stay with us. Ramzi is trying to heal you.”

Thorn coughed up blood, smiling through red teeth. “Where else would I go?” he asked, eyes locked with the woman, whose face twitched with emotion.

“Drink this,” I said. I didn’t have much mana left, but I had enough to save some of my potion by projecting it instead of having him drink directly. I released my Elemental Spike, gripping one of my flasks as I pulled mana through it. “It’s just a Healing Potion,” I said.

Despite looking like he had just been through a meat grinder, Thorn had the nerve to give the red liquid budding on my fingertip a dubious look.

“It’s an ability,” I said impatiently. “It just lets me use potions without draining them. Drink before you die,” I said more firmly. It was my old work voice—the one I had to use when stupid, dying people tried to refuse treatment that would save their lives.

He opened his lips slightly and let me drizzle some into his mouth.

With difficulty, he swallowed.

Between Ramzi’s spell and the Healing Potion, we stabilized him but didn’t fix him. The wounds stopped actively bleeding, and he could breathe more normally. He was still in a great deal of pain.

We helped get him as comfortable as possible.

“I need to meditate,” I said. “Can your ability heal him the rest of the way?” I asked Ramzi.

The dark-skinned man raised silver eyes to meet mine. “Slowly, perhaps. But I will need time to rest and recover.”

I nodded. I had already discovered the Healing Potion had some kind of maximum dose within a set period of time. It had been working for a time, and then it suddenly stopped. I didn’t know how long it would be until it worked again, but I would get up and try every few minutes. It made me wonder if stabbing him with a Silver Scream arrow infused with Healing potion would have done more good, or if that would have also been limited by the same restrictions.

Given his suspicion of a drop of potion on my finger, though, I figured stabbing him with a “helpful” arrow was probably a step too far.

Still, I wanted to know if the Healing Potion itself had a maximum “amount” of healing it could provide. If so, I doubted even my Silver Scream-infused arrows would bypass it.

We all took up positions around the tunnel, forming a protective ring around Thorn as we waited for him to recover. Maybe I should have tried to move on with Lyria and leave these people to their own problems, but that wasn’t really my way.

I wanted to stay and help.

Good deeds had a way of paying dividends, and I still wanted to trust my instincts every time I could. As a person, I preferred to help people. I preferred to team up and work as a group when possible. In other words, I was going to keep assuming that drive had been part of my success in reaching godhood the first time around. So, when I could, I would work with others. And, when I could, I would do what was possible to help them, too.

Everyone seemed a little on edge. I was sorry I couldn’t exactly tell them my map showed no nearby enemies. On the one hand, I doubted they would take my word for it, even if I admitted my helmet was that powerful.

On the other hand, I still couldn’t be completely sure these people were trustworthy.

I scanned the map, taking a quick survey of the state of things.

The purple dot had left behind another small cluster of “X” marks as it seemed to head for the boss room in the dungeon.

The tunnel being guarded at the entrance was filling with red dots, but they were gathering instead of moving toward the entrance, almost as if they were building strength.

More adventurers had entered the dungeon, but they were clustering around the starting area, maybe preparing to help hold back the waves of attackers.

I also noticed more and more of the semi-transparent tunnels. They were spreading and crisscrossing through the entire dungeon. Most ran beside existing passageways so closely I hadn’t noticed them at first. But now I could see they sometimes veered off to make a straight path toward another tunnel.

Even now, one of the tunnels was directly beside our position. But there were no dots inside it, either people-colored or monster-colored. It was somewhat concerning but not exactly the most pressing of our worries.

Occasionally, I extended my perception to Thorn to see if he had any more mana or got up and tried to get him to swallow more projected Healing Potion. Whenever I found any mana in his sponge-like core that reminded me of Lyria’s, I squeezed it into his body and directed it to the worst wounds.

“You fought well,” Ramzi said after a while of relative silence. He walked over to me and knelt down. His clothes looked like they had once been fancy and expensive but were now torn and shredded. He cupped my face and kissed my forehead. “Honor,” he said simply, then walked away.

Okay…

The purple-skinned woman he was with came up next. Her name was Zahra, and she was the one who had been slinging shadows. Her dark robe was as tattered and torn as Ramzi’s clothing.

She was pretty, in a slightly weird, purple cat-woman kind of way.

Zahra gave me a sheepish smile, cupped my face, and kissed my forehead. “Honor.”

I was feeling supremely awkward when I noticed Lyria giving me an amused look. Then, her amusement vanished as Ramzi and Zahra came to her and repeated the same ritual.

I met Lyria’s eyes and gave a silent gesture of your guess is as good as mine.

A pair of notifications pulled at my attention.

You’ve reached level 46!

[Skill Tier Increased. Forge Echo has reached (Tier 3)] Tier 3 Skill Branch Unlocked. Choose Now?

[1] Unread Accomplishment. Read Now?