Level One God

I checked my newly gained skill with anticipation. Before I read the details, I saw two things: one, it was a skill for my Heart corestone, and two, it was an active skill.

[Common] Active Skill: Mana Surge. [Tier 1] Temporarily boost the target’s mana regeneration speed.

“Damn it,” I said aloud. I could immediately grasp the purpose of a skill like that. If I didn’t have a second class hogging up three active ability slots, using Mana Surge would be a no-brainer to throw in with my equipped actives. After all, one of the main limitations to my ability to heal allies was their lack of mana. Being able to help them regenerate more quickly would mean more healing potential.

In fact, it was even better than that, because it also would mean their combat potential would jump up. More mana meant using more abilities. It also meant more opportunities to train and practice if I traveled with them for a long time, meaning it would essentially be a power bump for my allies—assuming they were willing to take advantage of the opportunity.

I ran through my current active abilities, trying to decide if there was a single ability I could stand going into combat without.

Elemental Projection (Tier 2)

Forge Echo (Tier 3)

Devour Mana (Tier 2)

Mana Shield (Tier 2)

Elemental Spike (Tier 2)

The only two I could possibly justify unequipping would be Elemental Projection or Mana Shield. But I had proven time and time again how helpful it was to have the ability to project an element in a pinch. Without Elemental Projection, I would be burning through potions at high speeds. It was essentially an ability to make every potion I had a bottomless resource.

It was such an effective ability that it even kept me from having much need to use my Alchemist’s Kit for combat purposes. After all, there wasn’t much point in throwing a bottle at enemies when I had a number of more effective tactics at my disposal.

I could maybe make a case for relying on my Alchemist’s Kit to replace some of Elemental Projection’s functionality, but it felt like I’d be making a very weak case.

I’d be limited to one limitless potion. It would mean no more drizzling Healing Potions into people’s mouths. No more split-second decisions in the middle of a fight to blow off a massive elite’s arm by combining Bombroot and Dragon’s Tail, for example.

I shook my head. No. It was too much of a risk to take the skill away for now. I also really wanted to see what happened when I got it to Tier 3, and wasn’t about to unequip it when I was so close.

That left Mana Shield. But I had also come to love Mana Shield. It was versatile and let me use my creativity in a number of ways. I had blocked single attacks, used it as a tool to trip enemies, used it to completely seal off the tunnel, used it to snuff out Dragon’s Tail flames on my arm, and even stacked shields to deflect corrosive vomit. And I felt like I was only getting started.

Once my ability to multitask was a little better, I was sure I could throw Mana Shields all around a battlefield, preventing damage to my allies or even saving lives.

In the end, I just couldn’t see a way to make room for the new skill. Not at the moment, at least. Based on the cooldown restriction for switching corestones, I was fairly certain there would be a similar mechanic in place to prevent swapping skills without penalty. If the cooldown period wasn’t too punishing, I would be able to swap Mana Surge into my active abilities between fights. It would be a huge boon for her, assuming the increased recovery speed didn’t depend on the target’s maximum mana.

Lyria’s mana pool was pitiful, so if she even had a fraction of my recovery speed, she’d be topped off every few minutes.

Besides, I couldn’t predict how my equipment or even advancing to Iron might change things. For all I knew, a new item could make a skill I saw as a cornerstone ability feel obsolete. If I was really lucky, maybe there was even a mechanic for skills to merge eventually. I could imagine a few of my current skills blending together to become greater than the sum of their parts, but I wasn’t sure if that was just wishful thinking.

For now, I wouldn’t mess with it. Swapping out a skill to test the cooldown could leave me stuck with a non-combat ability like Mana Surge equipped for this final fight. I didn’t have enough time to wait something like that out, so I’d test it later.

I had been constantly checking my map, but I looked at it again out of habit. The three Iron dots were still far enough away that I should have plenty of time to take on the final dot. I thought it might still be a good idea to check in with the group before I proceeded, though.

I pulled out my Talking Stone. “Lyria?” I asked.

“Are you coming back?” she asked a moment later.

“Soon. I just wanted to make sure things were okay there.”

“We’re fine. Everybody was tired, so we’re taking turns getting some rest.”

“Good. You’re saving your mana, right?”

“Yes, Mother.”

I grinned. It was hard to read her tone through the rocky distortion the Talking Stone caused, but I could picture her sarcasm either way. “Alright. I’ll let you know when I’m heading back.”

I had been walking toward the dot as I spoke.

I felt a small spike of anticipation as I saw a hint of mist ahead.

I paused, summoned Pebble, and knelt down. “I want you to go up there and tell me if you see a big ass monster hiding in a bunch of mist. Don’t get too close. Understand?”

Pebble gave one hop, then rolled off, hitting a root and getting some impressive air on his way.

“Nice!” I shouted after him.

I sat down and put all my focus into meditating with Peace.

I also wondered if I could really justify the risk of taking a Host of Horrors on solo, assuming that’s what the mist ahead meant.

I did have the Amulet of Escape. It wouldn’t really be a waste if I was using the amulet to take valuable risks. I could only assume the accomplishment for soloing an elite would be powerful. I guessed the fight would pretty easily push me to level 50, too.

Fighting nightmaws had shown me that a big part of victory was understanding my enemy. I had fought a Host of Horrors and got a glimpse of its full toolkit. Regenerating waves of weak minions with a poison attack my helmet would likely resist. Big, creepy ass bat wings that could blow the rats forward at high speeds or move the Host of Horrors in small bursts. A vomit attack that was corrosive and probably would not be resisted by my helmet, based on my experience with rot poison. And, of course, it had those huge bear arms.

Those, surprisingly, weren’t the biggest risk. It had so much trouble holding its huge body upright that the attacks were telegraphed pretty far in advance.

I closed my eyes and visualized the last fight, trying to imagine what I could have done without the others distracting the minions for me.

A small smile touched my lips. I knew exactly what I would do if Pebble confirmed it was another Host of Horrors ahead.

#

Pebble returned a few minutes later. He didn’t even try to show off by getting some air as he approached, which made me suspect he was scared. If he was scared, it was probably another Host of Horrors.

“Big monster in the mist?” I asked him.

One bounce.

“Alright, good job, Buddy.” I pulled out my Silver Scream Quiver.

I broke my Viperlilly arrows and summoned three empty glass arrows. I infused one with Healing Potion, one with Dragon’s Tail, and the last with Bombroot.

Pebble rolled backwards in fear when he saw the Bombroot arrow.

“I know,” I said. “But just trust me. Worst case scenario, I’ll break my amulet and pop away to safety. Assuming it moves me far enough to save me…”

Pebble rolled back and forth. I took that to be a gesture of uncertainty.

“I’ve got Abyssal Step, too. Remember?” I asked. “And yes, I had a lot more help last time, but you could argue I had to fight with my hands behind my back. Otherwise, I would’ve blown up my friends. If it’s just me, I can really let loose. No friendly fire to worry about, right?”

Except, of course, I could always blow myself up. I thought it was better not to worry Pebble by mentioning this.

I stuck out my fist. Pebble hesitated, then reluctantly gave it a bump of solidarity. “We’re good. But if Lyria asks you, I did not try to solo an elite, okay?”

Pebble gave me one bounce.

“Good boy,” I said, patting his head. Well, his body was also his head, and his legs. So I guess I just… patted him. “Alright,” I said. “Time for you to take a break.”

I unsummoned him, stood, and took a deep breath. I ran through my plan one more time, asked myself if I was sure about this, and then started walking.

Technically, I was pretty far from sure about this. But if I only ever took on fights I was sure I could win, I’d never get anywhere. The best I could hope for was confidence.

And I did have confidence. All I had to do was think about how far I had come in such a short period of time. Or I could think about the fact that I had somehow made my way to godhood in this place. It meant I had what it took to stand up to unexpected challenges. It meant I was capable.

All of my pep-talking was helping calm my nerves a little bit. I still felt a kind of tingling anxiety in my stomach as I walked. One wrong move, no matter how confident I was, and I’d be hamburger meat on the dungeon floor.

Better not to think about that, I decided.

Just like before, the dirt walls of the passage turned medieval as the mist thickened. The temperature dropped, too, letting me know I was getting closer and closer to the chamber.

I considered the possibility that the thing waiting for me might be something new. Instead of little rats, for example, it could be bats. If it was bats, I was going to run.

Fuck bats. I wouldn’t say I had a true phobia of bats. I just… no. They made my skin crawl with their creepy, kind of cute, but definitely disgusting little faces and veiny wings. Bats were like some goth kid's twisted fan fiction of birds, but somehow they’d accidentally been approved for existence instead of being confined to a sketchbook where they belonged.

Yeah, somebody said. What if birds were furry, but their wings looked like sun-damaged skin, they slept upside down, hunt at night, live in caves, and some of them will literally suck blood?

So, yeah. Like I said. Fuck bats.

If the dot ahead took its “batness” any further than the big wings I had seen on the last Host of Horrors, I was out of there. Anything else, and it was fighting time.

With a full supply of mana, I was able to stop meditating before I entered the chamber. I summoned my Silver Scream bow and nocked a Bombroot arrow.

I kept searching for some reason to change my mind about this, but I couldn’t see why this wouldn’t work. It felt too easy, though.

But maybe it should feel easy. After all, I had a legendary bow, right? I had two Gold pieces of equipment. I was using two-class corestones instead of one, and I had prestige mode benefits boosting my grasp of mana.

What the hell was I doing if I couldn’t do this?

Right?

I walked slowly through the cool mist, kicking up small, swirling trails of white in my wake. My boots scraped on the stone as I entered the chamber.

It looked similar, but not identical to the last one. To my relief, this chamber was even bigger. The ceiling was maybe thirty or forty feet high. Considering the Bombroot arrow nocked in my bow, that was probably important.

I spotted the large shape at the center of the crypt-like room and inspected it.

It was another Host of Horrors, and there were shapes bubbling across its silhouette, just like before.

That was a relief.

Looking down, I double checked that I knew where the Dragon’s Tail vial was on my belt. Once I had that confirmed, I drew my bow, aimed carefully, and then realized there was one small problem with my plan. I hadn’t considered that this arrow would probably just hit a tiny rat on the Host of Horrors if I fired it now.

I slowly un-drew the bow and relaxed, then made a split second decision.

Plan B, then.

All I was doing was reversing the order of the first part. How badly could it really go?

I tucked the bow and arrow under one arm, gripped my Dragon’s Tail vial, and then aimed my palm up high. I pushed the mana out of my hand as hard as I could, grinning when Chain happened to trigger at the perfect time for once.

Two jets of flames sprayed out of my hands, dripping fire as I pivoted like a sprinkler, bathing the space between myself and the Host of Horrors in burning Dragon’s Tail Potion

To my annoyance, nothing happened. I planned on it sending its minions after me once I started spraying. Instead, the shape was still sitting there and bubbling, but not sending rats after me.

Really?

I didn’t want the flames to burn out, so I touched the Common Mace I still kept at my hip, just for emergencies. I summoned a non-intelligent Echo of the mace. I pointed it toward the Host of Horrors and sent it shooting straight forward like a spear. It zoomed forward, punching a wind-swept hole through the mist and then disappearing.

A split second later, I heard an angry squeal over the roar and crackle of chemical flames that were boiling away the mist.

I dismissed the Echo and fumbled my bow and arrow, nocking and drawing as quickly as I could.

A huge swarm of patchy-haired rat things the size of small dogs were sprinting toward me. The first wave was already catching on fire and squealing as they charged. Each time a rat died, it snuffed out a small portion of flames, allowing the next rat to progress a little farther.

Behind them, the Host of Horrors reared up, opening its rat-jaws and planting both thick, hairy arms on the stone as the wings flapped out wide. Behind the rising smoke, it was nothing but a horrible silhouette, like several animals stitched together and supersized to unbelievable proportions.

Thankfully, it was a big target. I didn’t have to aim too carefully as I drew the Bombroot arrow and then fired toward the Host of Horrors.

It punched into its worm-like stomach, hardly visible from the distance. It opened its maw and screeched with a warbling depth that made my insides feel soft.

With the arrow in place, all I would need to do is buy time. I could lay down more fire to keep the rats at bay and—

My Mana Sense lit up in the direction of the Host of Horrors. I could vaguely tell it was preparing something long-range. Long enough range to hit me, even from this distance.

Was it about to shoot puke at me already? Shit.

Without thinking, I created a wide but weak Mana Shield in front of its mouth, using every extra second to weave extra reinforcement into the magic.

The Host of Horrors either didn’t see or didn’t care about the shield. It continued gathering mana for its ability while I reinforced the shield.

Meanwhile, more and more rats were climbing over the burning dead, inching closer and closer with each death. They were forming a kind of spearpoint of dead bodies, seemingly intelligent enough to know they’d advance more quickly if they formed a smaller bridge over the flames.

The Host of Horror’s belched up a semi-truck hauler’s worth of liquid vomit, but it hit the shield directly in front of its face, splashing back on its own body.

Chunks of hissing liquid splashed over its face, which instantly melted into large, falling pieces of flesh. More vomit landed on the belly, dissolving away swathes of skin almost instantly.

One of the big arms fell off at the shoulder, causing the whole beast to fall forward and land in the puddle of vomit. It twitched a few times, but seemed as though it was already inches from death by the time it landed.

The entire shape seemed to be sinking into the ground as it melted away. The rats were turning over and dying like cockroaches in droves, seemingly unable to survive without their host.

God damn. I’d love to bottle some of that vomit up and use it if I could.

And… I could add that to the “thoughts I would never imagine thinking before this mess” pile.

I watched it all unfold in disbelief and horror as three notifications pinged me for attention.

You’ve reached Level 50!

[1] Unread Accomplishment. Read Now?

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

I hardly noticed the achievements because I remembered there was a Bombroot arrow somewhere in the Host of Horror’s belly. If that vomit had any kind of heat-generating properties…

Oh shit.

I turned, summoned a stack of Mana Shields behind myself, and started running.

To my relief, no explosion came, even after about two minutes of running for my life. I leaned forward, hands on my knees as I sucked in air.

Once I recovered, I sat down and summoned Pebble.

He appeared in his ghostly blue, sitting still as if waiting for me to update him on what happened.

“Everything… went exactly as I planned,” I said.

Pebble gave half a roll backward. Somehow, I suspected he didn’t believe me.

“Not a word of this to Lyria, remember?” I said.

Pebble bumped my fist at that. Whether he believed me or not, at least I knew he wouldn’t rat me out.

I double checked the map and confirmed I had enough time to recover before rejoining the group. The three Irons had maybe an hour left before they’d exit their passage and most likely enter ours. After that, I imagined we had another hour or two before they would reach the cave-in. Jogging back to join the party would only take me twenty or thirty minutes, I guessed.

I laid back, still catching my breath as I replayed the fight. Even though things didn’t go like I imagined, I decided it was nothing to be shaken by.

I was fairly sure my actual plan would’ve worked, too. All I had to do was summon an Echo of my Silver Scream bow with a Dragon’s Tail arrow, keep the rats distracted, and then ask my Echo to fire once I had enough Mana Shields and space to protect myself from the explosion.

I already knew the Bombroot was strong enough to blow its arm off, even in small quantities. A Silver Scream arrow to the stomach plus some Dragon’s Tail would’ve almost certainly done the trick.

Instead, I had just… skipped a few steps with improvisation and quick-thinking.

Yeah. If anything, I should be happy it went the way it did. Proving I could still win even without the plan was just more confirmation that my confidence wasn’t unfounded.

I hadn’t even suffered a scratch.

I smiled as I pulled up my accomplishment notification.

[Epic Accomplishment] Defeat [1] elite enemy within [Beastden] dungeon without the help of allies. [Reward - Epic Lone Dungeon Diver’s Token] “Consider me impressed! You know, the whole idea of an elite classification is that you’re supposed to bring a bigger group to win. Sure, some people get strong enough by Silver or higher to reliably take on elites, but doing that at Wood? Not bad at all, Seraphel. Even for a… kind of god, that was amazing.

“Do you think your red-haired friend is going to be mad at you, though? I know you told your Pebble friend not to tell her, but what are you going to do to explain this accomplishment token? Are you going to claim it in secret? Naughty, naughty Seraphel…”

I frowned. My secret messenger was right. But I figured Lyria’s anger would be far less intense if she found out weeks or days from now once we were hopefully safe and sound back in Thrask. We could probably even laugh about it.

Remember that time I snuck off and soloed a whole wing of Beastden? Remember when I killed that Host of Horrors with its own puke?

Yeah… I was almost sure we’d laugh about it.

But a little Lyria anger was worth it for an epic reward. I had also reached level 50. From what I understood, the journey from level 1 to 50 took most people years on Eros, assuming they made it at all.

The combination of my prestige benefits, several powerful items, two class corestones, and a willingness to take risks was doing wonders for me.

I had made it from level 1 to 50 in what? A few weeks?

It was absurd, but I supposed that was the idea of a prestige path centered around quickly advancing. That, along with my ability to take on extreme risk by myself, was catapulting me up the levels. Now, I just needed to figure out how I was supposed to advance to Iron.

I did a little internal probing, wondering if I could feel anything. There was maybe a vague, distant sense of… something, but I could only faintly detect it. Nothing I tried let me really interact with whatever it was, though. From a distance, it almost seemed like a vessel to be filled—like an empty container.

I was curious, but it was going to have to stay a mystery for the moment. I could always cross my fingers and hope I landed a Wood Ascension token, too. But I had to remember Circa’s advice about not relying on those. If I could already sense some hint of the key to advancement, I was probably better off focusing on figuring out the natural way to do it. From what Circa said, it would lead to a more powerful set of bonuses for reaching Iron.

“Tier 3 time,” I whispered to Pebble. He had been bored by my long silence and was entertaining himself by trying to ramp up the rounded tunnel wall. He was trying to see how high he could get with a rolling head-start. He was making it about a quarter of the way up after perfecting his technique.

Pebble stopped his rolling and approached me, eager to see a demonstration.

I pushed my thoughts into the ability and felt my eyebrows rise as I saw a visual of my choices.