Runeblade: A Delving LitRPG Survival Adventure

A month. A whole bloody month. More than a month, in actuality. Kaius was sure that his bruises had bruises, Health or no. A whole damn month of being Porkchop’s chew toy. Tossed around the graveyard like a sack of flour. He never seemed to run out of energy. Never seemed to get tired of having the upper hand.

Hells! Kaius was pretty sure that the fact he was so totally out outmatched made the whole thing more fun to Porkchop! He had gotten better at least. He didn't get thrown around nearly as much in their most recent tussles. Kaius chose to simply ignore the fact that Porkchop was definitely moving a lot slower than he could.

It was so worth it. His growth had been explosive. At first, he had been worried that without the mortal threat of true combat his skills would stall. That his timeline would be set back, no matter how much sense it made for his safety.

The sheer physical superiority Porkchop had over him had reduced that drawback to almost nothing. The meles was seemingly a prodigy at controlling his strength. No matter what he did, the meles was just that much stronger and faster than him, pushing him to his absolute limit. As Kaius’s skills had grown, so had the pressure. Kaius improved his Parry and Footwork just enough to start avoiding blows? Porkchop sped up. His Armour and Block skills improved to let him hold his ground? Porkchop would hit harder, forcing him back.

Now he only had a few more levels left before he was ready to merge his next legacy skill.

He stood out in the opening they had created in the graveyard, Porkchop directly across from him. He’d discarded his breastplate in favour of chain. He’d fully capped Heavy Armour Mastery over a week ago, the process leaving the metal of the armour bent and dented. Almost entirely useless now.

The field was torn to shreds, great gouts of earth ripped free from the ground from the way Porkchop dug his claws in to gain traction. Shattered cobblestones littered the edges of their impromptu area. They’d done their best to clear them, but he’d been thrown through more than one after an overzealous blow.

“Last one, yeah?” Porkchop asked, anticipation flowing over their ever strengthening link.

“Yeah. Just a level of Block and Medium Armour Mastery.” Kaius called out, his own excitement visible in the smile on his face.

“Ready?” Porkchop asked.

“Ready.” He nodded, settling into his stance.

Porkchop dug his claws into the earth and tore another rent into the ground, stout claws kicking up a cloud of dirt. Accelerating to full speed in a single bound.

Kaius held his trusty scabbard at the ready. No longer awkward in his grip after a month of full contact sparring. Reaching him in under a second, Porkchop feinted a tackle. Kaius pivoted to the side, stepping to avoid the charging hulk of muscle and fur.

Dragging his claws on the ground, Porkchop used the leverage to bring himself up short. A heavy paw lashed out, coming down over Kaius’s head. He reacted, slamming out with his ‘blade’ to block the strike, maximising his leverage by catching the blow close to his hands.

Porkchop simply pushed down harder.

The weight of the beast was overwhelming. Forcing Kaius’s guard back, his hands shaking. He was allowed to struggle for a bit, to strain into the block. Then Porkchop smacked him with his other paw, claws raking against his chainmail.

He wasn’t gentle. Even when pulling his blows.

Kaius stumbled back, gasping from the impact. Steadying his footing he dove back in, warding Porkchop off with a stab to the face. He reacted like it was a naked blade. Darting to the side before closing in to batter Kaius once again.

Claws clattered on Kaius’s sheath. A hasty block that barely held.

Porkchop gave him no quarter, slamming his other paw towards him. Kaius stepped back, catching the blow. He tried to carry through into a stab, aiming for his friend's undefended chest.

Porkchop dropped back down to all fours, drawing back and then throwing himself forwards into a heavy shoulder barge. Moving faster than Kaius could bring the point of his scabbard around to ward off the approach.

A fluffy black and red shoulder hit him in the chest.

Hard.

Wind exploded from his chest. He gasped, stumbling to the ground. Porkchop dove forwards, massive jaws clamping over his shoulder. Gently.

Well, gentle enough not to pierce the chain or crack his bones at least.

Porkchop heaved. Throwing Kaius across the field with casual ease.

A panicked yell left his throat as Kaius sailed through the air, dazed at the sudden rough treatment. He landed on a stray tombstone with a crash, stone cracking painfully against his spine. Heat flushed through his body as a trickle of health was consumed to recover from the impact. Porkchop was already approaching, charging him with manic glee.

“Shit!” Kaius just barely managed to roll to the side before the oversized ball of fluffy murder pounced on his chest. He rolled to his feet, bringing his scabbard up just in time to block a heavy swipe of the meles claws. A clack echoed through the yard.

The scabbard reverberating painfully in his hands, Kaius stepped back, thwacking Porkchop over the head as he disengaged from their bind. Huffing in annoyance, his friend redoubled his assault.

Kaius gave ground.

Every step back was a struggle, his strength barely enough to hold up a semblance of defence in the face of Porkchop’s animalistic aggression. A standing headstone bumped into his rear. No more retreat.

Porkchop reared up, paws descending towards him in an overhand slam.

Kaius blanched.

His hands slid down his scabbard as he quickly shifted his grip closer to hold it like a quarterstaff. He all but threw his scabbard upwards, holding it like a horizontal bar to block the blow.

Heavy claws hit Kaius’s defence. He bucked. Falling down to one knee, arms trembling overhead as they burned with the strain of holding the meles back. Kaius grunted, straining against the overwhelming weight. Transitioning to a roar as he drove his feet into the ground. Forcing himself to stand.

He shoved against Porkchop’s claws. Trying to get the meles off him. He dropped his left arm, suddenly pushing sideways rather than up.

With a yelp Porkchop fell to the side, landing roughly on all fours.

Kaius let out a victorious yell. He adjusted his grip on his scabbard. Readying himself to rap Porkchop over the head.

**Ding! Warforged has reached level 20!**

**Ding! Block has reached level 20!**

He stopped fast. Scabbard hovering a handspan from the meles head.

“I got it! And Warforged too!”

Porkchop span on him, hoofing in excitement as he butted his head against Kaius’s chest.

“Yay! Why did Warforged take so long? We have done so much fighting?”

Kaius laughed, still thrilled at the unexpected gain.

“It’s a skill for multiple weapons. I’ve just been using sword styles for a long time now. Not really enough to really stretch the skill. Blocking like I had a quarterstaff must have been enough.” He explained, grabbing Porkchop in a playful headlock as they walked back to the centre of the clearing.

“Just the armour skill now right?” Porkchop asked, their connection strangely absent of contextualising emotion.

“..Yes? Why?”

Porkchop roared, nearly causing Kaius to jump out of his skin. A paw smashed into the back of his knees. Joints creaked painfully. He collapsed to the ground.

One heavy foot planted itself on his chest. Holding him down. Porkchop leaned down, jaw hanging open to reveal massive teeth. Leaning over his face. Icy cold shot through him. He was pinned. Had no clue what was going on.

The teeth grew closer. Hovering over his neck.

Primal terror.

And closed over the lip of his chain mail. Porkchop tore backwards. Claws and teeth popping riveted steel with the ease of tearing paper. Kaius lurched forwards, only to stop fast as a heavy slap pushed him back down.Screaming metal gave way in seconds, his armour tearing free of his chest.

**Ding! Medium Armour Mastery has reached level 20!**

Porkchop huffed, throwing the section of chain to the side. The meles trotted over to his prize, batting the ruined metal around with flicking sweeps of his claws. Kaius sat up. Chest and back aching from the strain of having chainmail ripped off him like it was threadbare cotton.

“What the fuck was that, Porkchop!” He demanded, his heart racing in his chest.

“Did it work?” Porkchop asked, smug.

“I mean yeah! But like, warn a guy! What if it hadn't?”

“Much more effective without a warning. If it didn’t work we could always get you more chain from one of the undead?” His friend replied, looking at him with a cocked head, confusion spilling across their bond.

Kaius just sighed. Shaking his head. He guessed it had worked. Though for a moment there he had wondered if his new friend had perhaps been a little less friendly than he thought…

Shrugging himself out of the remnants of his armour, Kaius hauled himself to his feet and grabbed his scabbard from where it had been knocked free of his grip.

“I’m gonna go inside and merge. You have fun.” He said, a little tension creeping into his voice at the thought of how easily Porkchop could have ended him.

“Okay, I’ll keep quiet.” Porkchop said.

If he picked up on his discomfort, he didn’t show it. Seemingly more than entertained with throwing a scrap of chain around than following him inside.

Kaius huffed and walked toward the church.

Kaius sat on the floor of the church, legs crossed with his arms held comfortably in his lap. The slow rush of his own breathing rang in his ears. Helping to drown out the sounds of the overly energetic Forest King tossing around scraps of metal outside.

For the second time in less than two months, Kaius dived deep into his centre. The light of his soul became clear in his mind's eye, looking as real and tangible as if it were hovering in front of him. It hung in an empty space, burning with multi hued golden vigour.

Three pools of gas orbited his soul, equidistant. One blue, one green, and one red. Each was a different size. Blue, the smallest. Almost half the size of green. While red was half again as big as that. His resources. Watching silently, he could see faint gossamers of coloured energy fly free from the clouds. Falling inwards to join the fire. Excess regeneration vented to be safely discarded.

Further out he could see his skills. Bundles of pure energy, orbits in sync as they rotated his inner fire without a care for sticking to a consistent plane. Three shone with platinum auras of vibrancy. All but one smaller than the remaining seven, but no less potent for their lacking size.

One, a riotous mix of colours without end, endlessly contesting dominion over the orb. When one colour seemed like it might be victorious? It was suppressed viciously. Subsumed by another.

One, the colour of steel and blood. Always warring, always shifting. The orb seemed to physically pulse. As if disdainful of being locked to a single shape.

The final of the three was more peaceful. Shining greens and blues, calling out in the joy of freedom.

Rapid Adaptation, Warforged and Explorer’s Toolkit. His three legacy skills. Another would be joining them shortly. His attention drifted to their less glamorous siblings. Honing in on the first one to require his touch.

A thin tendril of energy stretched from his soul, looking like flowing golden amber. It quested, wavering around the empty space. Reaching for the first skill.

It connected.

Sensations slammed through him. A mighty blow aimed for the head, impossible to avoid. A shield interposed, reverberations stinging from the impact. A stream of magical energy, sent with intention to injure and kill. Absorbed and rebuffed. At first, the smallest force was almost impossible struggle to endure, before later earth shattering impacts were shaken off with ease. The surety and simplicity of a pure defence. Withstanding the mightiest of blows. Block. Simple, but powerful.

Kaius felt the flavour of the skill. Submerging himself in its essence. It was a good tool, one that was a central skill of many soldiers. But it could be so much more.

Another thread stretched from his soul.

Impressions followed quickly. Almost a brother to block, so often used in tandem. So complementary. Where Block held fast, this skill diverted with fluid movement and guile. A shattering blow, firmly guided to safety. A gaping opening left behind in its wake. Less brute strength, more smooth action and control. Control of yourself, and of your opponent. Steel flashing, clanking together, guided on a merry dance that left you whole. Parry.

The skills thrummed. Resonating as threads of soul-fire linked them to his centre.

On to the next one. Another burning thread cutting through the void.

Pure mastery of self. The simple joy and pleasure that you are always exactly where you meant to be. Just out of reach. Inside their guard. Slipping past a hasty thrust. Just in range to get access to their throat. Wherever you must. Where Block and Parry relied on furious confrontation, this skill was mastery over the terms of engagement. It was not about avoiding blows, nor about ensuring your own. It was about being the general of your own body. Of being the conductor of a tune that you and your opponents both danced to. Footwork.

Kaius was starting to feel the strain of it now. A dull throb pulsing just a finger length behind his eyes. The intimate connection to the skills drained him. The act of splitting his attention, of absorbing the totality of a skills function before adding yet more to the load, slowly wearing away at his mental focus.

His trio of already completed skills seemed to beat down on him. Sucking at his attention. Demanding that they too should be the object of his focus. He blocked them out, focusing on the task at hand. Their burden on the process would only grow as he added to their number. If he couldn’t push them out of his mind, he would fail.

There was no way he was going to let that happen.

He clenched his jaw, spinning a thread of gold from his soul towards Toughened Physique.

The connection snapped into place.

Skin thickening, like tough leather. Bones growing tough and dense like iron. Flesh hardening like wood. The rhythmic forging of bone and muscle under a thousand thousand repetitive blows. A body reborn under the fires of adversity, every wound more difficult to inflict than the last. The most basic tenant of a living body - adapting under pressure. Where Footwork was mastery of the external world and one's place in it, Toughened Physique was the certainty that the only true cause of injury was lacking will and applied effort.

Kaius gasped as he felt the weight of the fourth skill on his mind. His very soul vibrating under the strain of holding all four skills in hand, of finding the thread that linked them. He took a moment to just breathe, mopping at his brow. He exhaled. Slow and steady.

Just three more.