Zachary Scott
patreon
Chapter 123 - Battering Ram
🕑 Added 2025-08-12 15:58:47 +0000 UTCI kept low as I moved through the thick forested area outside the third outpost. There were bushes everywhere with edges sharp enough to slice skin and some kind of bugs I kept having to swat away from my skin. Annoyingly, they seemed completely disinterested in Erasmus, who also wasn’t sweating despite the heat.
Erasmus insisted on coming with me, claiming the kiergard race didn’t need to sleep as much as other humanoids. Everyone else was back at the first outpost sleeping after our encounter with the bone choir, and I had wanted to make use of my waking hours to do a little scouting.
Deep down, part of me was even considering making an attempt to claim an outpost solo if the opportunity presented, but I also would only consider it if the monsters guarding the place seemed like something I could handle. The thought of the experience and potential accomplishments was tempting, along with the strategic advantage of being able to take outposts while the rest of the army slept.
“See anything?” I whispered.
“I see bushes,” Erasmus said. “And I see a very sweaty human covered in bugs. They seem to like you. Very much.”
I grinned. “Yeah, well, bugs love me. What can I say?”
“It seems as if we are circling the outpost and not getting any closer.”
“I was just hoping to find a place with a clear enough view without bringing us too close to run. Those wooden constructs came rushing out once they spotted us, and I’d like to know what we’re up against before the enemy is on top of us.”
“You wish to fight? You told the others this was only a scouting mission.”
I crouched low, trying to get a look through the thick trees. “Yeah, well… I knew Lyria would worry. But you don’t have to help if you’re afraid. I just want to be ready to take this shit if the opportunity presents.”
Erasmus was keeping low next to a tree to my left. He looked at me, head tilted slightly as if he was deciding something in that moment. Then he touched two fingers between his eyes. “Bold. Take my respect, Brynn Stygos.”
“What does that mean? The two fingers?”
“Respect is given among our people for acts of honor. One finger is a small act. Four fingers signify the greatest act of honor and the greatest gift of respect.”
“Ah, okay. Two out of four, then. Not bad,” I said with a half smile.
“Do not make me remove a finger. It is dishonorable to talk about the respect given to you.”
I wiped the smile from my face, nodding but trying not to laugh at his scolding tone. “Yeah, got it. This is pointless, though. We’re going to have to push in to get a real look at the place. Are you in?”
Erasmus gave a barely perceptible nod, his black eyes somewhat unsettling in the darkness of early morning. I wasn’t sure if it would be rude to ask, but I knew Erasmus was supposed to be a “moon.” In other words, his magic wouldn’t work during the day. Rude or not, I wanted to know how much help I could count on if things went badly here.
“So,” I said as we moved quietly through the bushes toward the wooden outpost. “Are you… okay when the sun comes out? Or does it just mean your powers don’t work?”
“I am a warrior, even without my class abilities,” he said. “I have my weapon. I have my training. And the sun does not weaken me physically. It only cuts me off from my magic.”
He hefted the big moon-shaped mace he’d claimed as his first equipment piece. Given his build and the size of the weapon, it was far more than nothing, powers or not.
“Do the Kiergard… know why? I mean, it’s strange, right? Why does magic work differently for your people?”
He gave me a look as though I’d just asked a question that was taboo. He raised one finger to his forehead, glaring at me.
Damn. Down to one out of four already? This guy was hard to please.
Pebble rolled through the undergrowth and stopped in front of us, bouncing wildly.
“Your stone is agitated,” Erasmus noted.
“Uh, yeah… He’s trying to warn us about something, but I can’t figure out what, exactly.”
Pebble bounced several times, then started bashing himself into a tree again and again.
“Easy, Buddy. You’re going to hurt yourself.”
I looked ahead, didn’t see anything, and then focused back on Pebble. “We’ll head back, okay? I don’t know what you’re worried about, but we’ll get out of here.”
That seemed to calm him slightly, but we’d only taken two steps back the way we came when I heard a branch snap behind us.
I paused, turning to look at Erasmus, whose posture told me he heard the sound, too.
We both moved quickly to put our backs to a pair of trees.
I gripped my new weapon. It was a strange polearm Old Torgen made for me. He called it some fancy name I’d already forgotten, but the explanation he’d given about why it was the best was pretty simple and easy to remember.
“You’ve got a smashy bit,” he’d said, pointing to one side of the long pole that was like a hammer. “A stabby bit,” he’d said, pointing to the tip that extended just like a spear. “And a slashy bit,” he said, showing a curved blade opposite the hammer. “Tool for every job, eh?”
I figured the practice I’d had with a quarterstaff way back in the Riverwell days and the infested ruins would apply to this thing, so I’d happily taken it. It was like the swiss army knife of polearms, if you asked me.
As a bonus, the Forge Echo I made from it seemed very… noble. It followed orders without hesitation and fought bravely. Honestly, it was one of the best Forge Echos I’d worked with so far, no offense to the others, of course.
Since I just slept an hour on my bedroll recently, I ruled out the idea of using Dark Pebble for the fighting here unless things got really messy. I didn’t want to sit with the dark mana in my body for that long if it could be avoided.
I considered my Blood Rage Potion, but decided to keep the Alchemist’s Kit strapped safely to my side for now. Nobody else in our entire “Mongrel Army” had a mana pool even a tenth the size of mine, so offering it to Erasmus was off the table. I’d burn through his mana too quickly to keep him alive if he took it. And it was best to save it for the last minute, even in my case. There was no reason to waste mana healing myself while my muscles tried to tear themselves apart for minutes before the fighting started.
Something was moving closer. I could sense it and smell it more than hear it. The smell was like wet dog and rotted teeth.
I dismissed Pebble, then made a Forge Echo of my polearm.
It appeared to assess the situation based on the way Erasmus and I were pressed with our backs to trees, and quickly hid itself right beside me.
Good boy, I thought.
I looked at Erasmus, then held up three fingers and began a silent count down, moving to two.
He nodded, white hands going tighter around his weapon. The muscles on his hairless white arms stood out in clear detail. There was a calm to his face that spoke of having faced death countless times, but a determination that said he wasn’t ready to let it take him just yet.
As soon as I lowered my last finger, we rushed out from behind the trees.
And then I saw our enemies. An army of little red goblins, just like the ones I’d seen stitched together to form the flesh golem last night.
[Rageling, Level 15 (Iron)] “These creatures are known for their aggressive behavior. Supposedly, they were a creation of goblin warlocks meant for war times. This variant of the goblin species is highly aggressive and channels their aggression during peace time into mating with ferocity.
So when a contingent of ragelings was abandoned after a battle, they multiplied in secret for years, formed warlike communities, industry, and ‘culture’. By the time the green goblins found them, it was too late. The ragelings overran the goblins and wiped them out in a matter of years save for a few who took refuge in civilized cities.”
The ragelings looked exactly how I pictured a goblin, but their skin was bright red and their eyes were a nearly glowing yellow. They were also completely stacked with muscles, each one looking like they spent all their free time lifting weights and exercising. Unlike the goblins I knew from Earth stories, these didn’t have primitive clubs and loincloths, though.
Every rageling was outfitted in what looked like well-made medieval style armor and weaponry. Whether by magic or mundane means, they had dyed every bit of metal a deep black tinged with red flakes. They wore the plates over thick, padded brigandine in some cases or coats of scale mail in others. They had horned helmets on their heads, metal gorgets, and gleaming weapons of every shape and size.
At barely three feet tall, they shouldn’t have presented much of a threat. But the armor and weapons made each like a small tank.
Shit.
By my quick count, I saw maybe fifteen of the things. I also saw viewing portals beginning to swoop in from every direction. Never a good sign.
I took a step back, quickly uncorked my potion, and chugged the contents, smashing the bottle to my side. I was going to need the extra strength. Fancy polearm or not, I had a feeling we’d need to work hard to crack through all that fucking armor.
The sound of my Alchemist’s Kit shattering unintentionally started the chaos. The ragelings lifted their weapons, armor clattering as they let out a warcry. One in the back lifted a horn to its mouth and blew hard. Another raised a crossbow and fired a bolt that pelted the tree I was using for cover hard enough to shake it against my back.
“Get them before more come. The crossbow one is reloading!” I shouted.
Erasmus seemed to have the same idea, and he was already dashing toward the group. My Forge Echo was beside me, weapon floating in a defensive position as if it was already planning on keeping me from getting surrounded.
Man, I loved this thing.
I inched forward, flexing my arm muscles a few times to get the potion working. I could feel the muscles swelling. I was getting better at using it sparingly. The potion only made me grow when I strained beyond my current limits. If I worked within the confines of whatever strength level I was at, it simply caused more damage without increasing my size and speeding up the rate of blood loss and muscle destruction.
Sure, it was hard to keep track of in the middle of a fight, but I knew I needed to try.
Weapons and armor glinted as the ragelings rushed to meet us, tiny legs pumping. The weight of all their gear made them heavy enough that I could feel the ground trembling as they charged.
I used the hammer end of my weapon and swung in a horizontal arc. I expected the rageling I hit to explode, but the hammer only dented his shoulder plate and sent him skidding to the left a foot or two. It bared sharpened teeth, then lunged at me, sword flashing.
I jumped back, parrying with the shaft of my weapon and stabbing the spear for the gap between plates in his side. The spear tip landed, but the thick padded brigandine kept it from biting into his flesh.
Fuck.
He was swinging again and a second rageling was jumping toward me from the right, but my Forge Echo caught it mid-air and sent it flying.
I needed more strength.
I pumped my muscles a few times, backing up as more ragelings tried to get close and surround me.
This time, when I swung the hammer toward the dented and pissed off rageling, I caught him on the left side of his head. The hammer and my enhanced strength caved in the helmet and blood sprayed as his body flipped end over end and crashed into one of his allies.
That’s better, I thought.
But I had to flood my arms with mana to heal the damage of all the strength I’d used.
Erasmus wisely positioned himself between two trees, giving himself some mild protection from being surrounded as his mace began to rise and fall, crushing armor with every blow. It took him several hits to take down each rageling, but his aim was precise, and he seemed to be hammering the exact same weakened point in their armor again and again until he caused fatal damage.
My Forge Echo was making liberal use of the hammer end of its weapon, but without the enhanced strength of my Rage Blood Potion, it was having to use the same technique as Erasmus. It was pounding again and again, driving dents deeper until the blows could matter.
I kept inching backward, cutting myself on the blade-like bushes but ignoring it as I swung as hard as I could. My muscles continued to grow because of the potion and so did the damage I was doing to myself, but I needed it. I just had to be careful to keep half a mind’s eye on my mana.
As my strength grew, I went from denting armor to cracking it in half, rushing body parts and heads like rotten fruit as I swung in wide arcs, left to right. The ragelings sensed the threat I posed and started focusing on me, but I was carving through them like a farmer scything through wheat now. My weapon was dripping blood and gore and the bodies were starting to pile up.
In less than a minute, we’d already downed at least half of the group, but I could hear more shrieks in the distance.
The horn. It had summoned more.
“I think we just drew out the inhabitants of the third outpost,” I shouted over the carnage.
A rageling jumped forward, abandoning its weapon to bite hard on my leg. At the same time, a crossbow bolt punched hard into my shoulder. I let out a surprised grunt as the pain started dull and quickly flashed to red-hot agony.
“Fuckers,” I gritted between my teeth as I gave it a hard kick, enhanced muscles sending the biter flying straight toward the one with the crossbow. It was a direct hit, knocking them both back so hard they slammed into a tree and landed motionless, blood dripping from beneath their helmets.
I yanked the bolt out of my shoulder, letting out every swear word I knew as I used precious mana to heal the damage from the arrow and the bite.
“Plan?” Erasmus asked.
“I say we take it,” I said, mentally taking note of my mana level. If I avoided growing my muscles much more, I had maybe five or ten minutes of fighting in me at this rate, assuming I didn’t suffer too many more injuries. There was a chance we could clear the whole outpost by then.
“Very well. For glory,” Erasmus said, uppercutting a rageling and sending it flying so high it broke a branch overhead before clattering to the ground with a grunt.
Thankfully, even the heavily armored ragelings couldn’t stand up against my Rage Blood Potion fueled strength. But I knew I was fighting against the clock. My mana was draining faster and faster and I couldn’t stop myself from pushing my muscles further with every blow. My estimate of five or ten minutes was shrinking by the second, but for the moment, I felt almost unstoppable. Like a fucking juggernaught.
It was another ten or twenty seconds before we’d obliterated the entire group. Notifications were pinging for my attention, but then I saw another wave of red and glinting metal come winding through the trees ahead.
My confidence faded when I saw how many there were. Maybe a hundred.
Erasmus and my Forge Echo looked ready to take them on, so I braced myself, blew out a breath, and squeezed my weapon tight. “Here goes…”
The ragelings smashed into us like a red wave. This time, the numbers were a problem. Erasmus was mostly only able to keep himself from getting overwhelmed and denting armor as the ragelings came in such large numbers. Erasmus and my Forge Echo realized as much and seemed to switch their focus to keeping me from getting flanked and funneling the ragelings so they had to approach me from the front.
The clumped up ragelings were dying in groups with each swipe now. My swings had grown so powerful I could actually use the blade end to slice straight through muscle, thick padded armor, flesh, and bone.
It was a maelstrom of blood and screaming ragelings, and I was doing my best to take down as many with each swing as possible. I knew I only had a limited number of swings in the tank before my mana would run dry.
The ragelings seemed to never stop coming, though. They jumped over the fallen with no regard for their own safety, teeth gnashing and weapons slashing.
Erasmus started to suffer wounds, and a particularly large rageling with an axe even began trying to hack down one of the trees he was using for cover. My Forge Echo was doing an amazing job of covering my right side. With the growing pile of bodies forming a slowing barrier in front of me, I was able to mostly keep uninjured, using Erasmus to my left, the Forge Echo to my right, and the pile of bodies in front of me to keep funneling ragelings where I wanted them.
It was a killing field, and I was starting to think we were nearing the end of it. My rough guess was that my mana was doing well, with maybe three or four minutes left, assuming I could stop swinging my weapon soon.
If the fighting completely ended, I could meditate, too, which would let me easily outlast the damaging effects of the potion.
And then I heard a new sound just as we were finishing the final ragelings off.
Was that… hissing?
Ten ragelings riding yellow lizards with horns like rhinos came skittering into view just as we cleared the last of the ground forces. The riders held long lances which were pointed straight for us.
“Trees!” I yelled as I jumped to the side. To my relief, Erasmus got the idea quickly enough and moved just in time to avoid being skewered.
I swung out the hammer end of my weapon and knocked one of the riders from his lizard thing and Erasmus stepped forward, finishing him off once he was on the ground with a devastating overhead attack that crushed the front of his helmet in.
My Forge Echo took up a position beside me, taking cover as the riders swung around for another pass.
With the trees as cover, taking them down was surprisingly easy. The problem was the lizards.
After we downed three riders on the second pass, the four riderless lizards started snapping at us and trying to charge us with their horns. For them, the stabby end of my weapon did the trick, but not before I suffered a nasty bite to my leg that required more mana than I liked to give up to heal. I also had to heal Erasmus when he took a horn through the calf, draining him to half of his mana.
It took two more waves before we finished off the final screaming and gnashing ragelings and their lizards.
I was breathing hard, sweating blood, and heavy with excess muscle by the time it was over. Over a hundred armored, dented, and bloody little bodies choked the forest in front of us. Small weapons lay everywhere.
I looked at Erasmus, who gave me a two-fingered salute. “Well fought, Brynn Stygos. Take my respect.”
“You too,” I said. “And you as well,” I said, nodding toward my Forge Echo.
“Think that’s the last of them?” I asked.
“I think we should investigate. Perhaps your grommet friends can collect all this armor and weaponry. Old Torgen could melt it down for our own uses.”
“Agreed. But I need to meditate for a little. My mana is almost empty, and I need it to keep these muscles from making me bleed to death. Your mana is low, too.”
Erasmus tilted his head. “You can feel my mana levels?”
“Sort of. It’s like trying to figure out how much liquid is left to squeeze out of a cloth.”
“Curious. Then I shall meditate with you.”
I dismissed my Forge Echo and quickly checked my notifications.
You’ve Reached Level 14!
You’ve Reached Level 15!
You’ve Reached Level 16!
You’ve Reached Level 17!
You’ve Reached Level 18!
You’ve Reached Level 19!
Holy shit.
A quick glance at Erasmus confirmed he’d just jumped one level from Iron Rank 10 to Iron Rank 11. Not the six levels I just gained, but I guessed he had mostly been denting armor and killed a few lizards. The pile of bodies was almost entirely my doing, and I also had the Fertile Seed prestige benefits boosting my experience gains.
I quickly read through my accomplishments.
[Rare Accomplishment] Defeat over (100) enemies in under five minutes within a tournament. [Reward - Epic Tournament Token] “Wow. If you left any of those ragelings alive to tell the tale, I think they would’ve been talking about you and Erasmus around campfires for decades. Mostly you, if we’re being honest. But if you keep up performances like that, some of the nobility watching this thing are going to start cheering for you despite themselves.”
I dismissed the text and focused on recovering my mana using the Peace method. Training to expand my mana capacity could wait for later. For all we knew, more of those things could come rushing at us any minute.
I opened my eyes several minutes later when I could feel my mana was significantly higher. The potion had faded while I meditated, leaving my muscles feeling deflated and weak compared to their enhanced state. Dried blood was caked on my skin, tickling as the smallest movement made it crack and flake away.
There was a kind of mounting exhaustion when I used the potion back to back, almost as if the damage it did to me got higher but the effects were the same. Because of this, I meditated until I was nearly full on mana, hoping to buy myself as much time as possible if there was more fighting ahead.
I reached into Erasmus’ core with my mind, finding his core. It was sponge-like, similar to Lyria’s. Unfortunately, I’d meditated and recovered almost my entire mana pool in half an hour. Erasmus had, by my best guess, maybe added five percent to his. It was easy to forget how long it took normal people to recover their mana here.
I also noticed the number of viewing portals had grown significantly while I meditated. I didn’t know why I could sometimes hear them and sometimes they were silent. This morning, they were silent, though I could see the portal with the announcers sweeping over the pile of rageling corpses and talking excitedly. I also saw King Theon and the Diamond Rank woman watching from an elaborate room where everything was covered in gold and silver filigree.
From the way they watched me, I had no doubt the protections for me and everyone else in my group would maintain “defective.” If we died here, we died. At least that was the only safe assumption for now. I just hoped they wouldn’t interfere directly to stop us from winning, but I doubted they wanted to look like they were worried about us. My best guess was they’d let things play out naturally for now.
I let Erasmus keep meditating for a while as I kept my eyes alert and scanned in every direction for threats. In the back of my mind, I worried another one of those Void Crawlers could be out there, but I was desperately hoping those were reserved for challenge areas. I wouldn’t have time to brew more of the Brightbell Potions if one of them got on top of me.
The other possibility was a group of hostile people.
I found the idea far scarier than more creatures. That Ashmore guy was a one man army. And there was the lady I’d seen during the drop with the lightning spear. I also knew it was only a matter of time before Rake decided to strike, but he was also a snake. I imagined his plan was to wait until I was weak or distracted to attack. Honestly, it was something I should probably be keeping more at the front of my mind.
With his abilities, he could literally step out of my shadows.
But maybe he was thinking twice about taking me on after our last encounter in Beastden. He’d know what I was capable of, and he might want to gather his own strength before he struck. He might even be trying to gain allies first.
In either case, I knew the nobility were out there capturing the central castles and keeps while we scrambled to collect outposts. I had no doubt the rewards of taking a castle or keep were superior, but we’d just have to hope our numbers and ability to spread out and take more ground would be an edge.
I was still deep in thought when something whistled just in front of my face and chips of high-speed wood shrapnel were pinging off my helmet.
I looked to the right and saw a huge ballista bolt still wobbling up and down and embedded a full foot into the tree.
When I looked left, I saw something metallic glinting from the top of the outpost walls, and then a flash of red.
Dammit.
“Erasmus,” I called out. “We’re pushing in. The little assholes have a ballista.”
Erasmus got to his feet and wisely put a tree between himself and the outpost. “And we want to approach? May I suggest retreating and returning with reinforcements?”
“I won’t force you to come,” I said, back to a tree I really hoped was thick enough to stop one of those ballista bolts. “But I think we need to take a few risks. The nobility are—” I winced, jerking to the side as another ballista bolt thumped into the ground, punching itself into a rageling corpse and sending it flipping through the air. “The nobility are at a huge advantage. We’re not going to stand a chance unless we push for every edge. Taking an outpost while everyone sleeps? That’s a huge edge.”
Erasmus glanced around the tree, back at me. “Then we push in.”
“Good,” I said. “After the next shot, we go. Keep to the trees as long as we can. Stop at the last tree before the clearing in front of the outpost, okay?”
“Understood.”
The next ballista bolt thumped into the tree I was hiding behind, shaking the whole thing so hard it made my teeth clatter together. It took all my willpower to move into the open, but I pushed off and sprinted toward the outpost.
Mentally, I tried to keep count. It had been about thirty seconds between shots, so I counted to twenty-five before shouting to Erasmus. “Cover!”
We were behind a tree for a few seconds before another bolt whistled past.
“Go!”
I ignored the swirling view portals full of vulture-like viewers who were probably hoping to see us get impaled.
It took two more charges to make it to the last line of trees before the clearing in front of the outpost.
“It’s too far,” Erasmus said. “It will take us maybe a minute to cross at full speed.”
“Agreed. But I have a plan.”
I gripped my polearm and fed mana into it, creating a duplicate with Forge Echo. I briefly considered giving the spell a touch of dark mana for good measure, but realized there was no reason to risk it right now, especially not when I needed to wait almost a full day to sleep in my bedroll again.
If my regular Forge Echo failed, I could try some dark mana for the second attempt.
The ghostly weapon slid behind the tree, floating in front of me as if waiting for orders. “We need you to go on a mission, are you up for it?”
The weapon floated as if waiting for instructions.
“Find a way inside that outpost. Then find your way to the assholes using the ballista. Kill them or distract them for us. Okay?”
With one more salute, the weapon rushed forward, bobbing up and down as if it was being carried by an invisible figure.
A few seconds later, I heard another bolt slam into the grass in the clearing. When I risked a look, I saw it had thankfully missed my Forge Echo. After some experimentation, I knew the Echo could be destroyed by a direct blow. In fact, they didn’t have much durability if attacked directly. The only saving grace was enemies usually didn’t think to hit them.
Sending it on its own like this would change that, and I’d have to hope the little guy could at least cause enough of a distraction for us to get in there.
I kept one eye on the Echo until it went flat and seemed to slide itself under the gate. I tried to visualize it moving through what I assumed was an outpost with a similar layout to the two we’d already captured. It would be moving along the inner wall and heading for the stairs that led up to the top wall. Considering I heard no rageling warcries, I assumed it wasn’t meeting resistance yet.
I unstoppered my Alchemist’s Kit and downed another Blood Rage Potion, wincing at the terrible taste.
A few seconds before I expected, I saw the greenish glint of the weapon on top of the wall and moving fast. And then came the warcries.
“Go!” I shouted.
Erasmus didn’t hesitate. We both pushed out from behind our trees and broke into a mad dash for the outpost. My leg muscles responded to the strain, pumping blood and tearing my muscles apart and reforming them into stronger, larger sizes. I picked up speed, flexing my right arm as I ran so it would grow in size.
I kept gaining speed as I sprinted, flooding my body with mana to heal the damage as I urged my muscles to grow and grow.
My legs swelled, each footstep punching divots in the ground and kicking up dirt in my wake. The sound of wind became deafening as I easily outpaced Erasmus and must have been moving at three or four times the speed of a normal human.
By the time I was halfway to the wall, I was going so fast there was no chance of coming to a stop before I reached the outpost, but stopping wasn’t the plan. I was hoping to turn myself into a human battering ram.
I gritted my teeth, lowered my shoulder, and braced for impact. My swollen body slammed into the front gate with so much force that it exploded open in a shower of wood splinters.
I landed hard, rolling several dozen feet before smashing into the back wall of the outpost in a cloud of dust and splintered wood. I got to my knees, head swimming as I used even more mana to heal the damage of my impact. As my vision cleared, I saw a pile of more armored corpses and wounded ragelings trying to get their feet all over the courtyard.
It looked like they’d been gathered just behind the front gate, waiting to ambush us. My charge had killed dozens of them on impact.
I gripped my weapon and rushed in, slamming the spear end into one so hard it punched through his armor like wet paper, skewering him. I swiped the weapon and the impaled ragling in horizontal arcs, muscles so swollen I didn’t even care which part of my weapon made contact. The hammer crushed armor and bodies and the blade sliced through metal and bone. The spear tip even caused devastation despite being meant for stabbing. One rageling flew screaming and cartwheeling into the far wall and another split in half, falling motionless to the ground.
Erasmus arrived several seconds later, then paused as he took in the scene. I was surrounded by bodies and absolutely drenched in blood—most of it my own.
I looked around suddenly, expecting more. Nothing came. When I looked up, I saw my Forge Echo atop the wall, just floating calmly between two rageling corpses and a wall-mounted ballista.
Erasmus pursed his lips and gave me another appraising look. “You wish for three fingers, don’t you?”
I shrugged. “Give me as many fingers as you want, Ras.” I paused, shaking my head and laughing. “That sounded… nevermind.”
You’ve Reached Level 20!
You’ve Reached Level 21!
[Rare Accomplishment] Capture an outpost with a group of (3) or fewer people. [Reward - Rare Tournament Token] “Bloody Brynn indeed! Incredible. I think one of those ragelings flew so high it still hasn’t hit the ground. Their kind would fear you for centuries if you had left any alive to tell the tale.”
Slowly, we both moved toward the altar to claim the outpost and our reward. The now-familiar grid appeared, letting me choose another item from my inventory to bring into the tournament.
It was a tougher choice this time. My Silver Scream Bow and my Mana Benders Raiment were two of my most powerful and high-tier items. But there was a catch. I still didn’t have any offensive potions to load into Silver Scream Arrows. Shooting enemies with Rage Blood Potion would cause anybody without healing to bleed out eventually. But it would also turn them into a killing machine before they died.
Considering how fast I could run with the stuff in my system, I didn’t want to count on being able to simply run away from a target and hope they died on their own. Technically, it could work, but it would be risky as hell and didn’t feel like my best option at the moment.
Bringing one of my class corestones out was still an option, but I only had two active skills unlocked at the moment and wasn’t sure how long it would be before I got more.
The next most obvious choice seemed like my Mana Bender’s Raiment. The only catch there was the mana consumption. Without Rage Blood Potion, it would be the clear winner. With Rage Blood Potion, though, I wasn’t as sure. I knew from testing that I could run my entire mana pool dry in just seconds with the Mana Bender’s Raiment. The more mana I fed into the single armor scale, the more insane the protective and enhancing armor became. But could I trust myself to control it carefully enough in the middle of a fight?
What would happen if I overcharged the raiment and found myself dry on mana with blood pouring from my body and no way to heal it in time?
To my own surprise, I found myself thinking hardest about my Abyss Walker Boots. They didn’t cost me any mana to use, and the ability to phase out of reality for two seconds and reposition against enemies had been shockingly useful back in Beastden and during my Aspirant’s sparring matches.
The element of surprise it provided was often enough to get me behind an enemy and let me land a direct hit. I could’ve also used it to completely avoid one of those ballista bolts back there or maybe even walk through the outpost wall entirely.
Considering we had more outposts, keeps, and castles to take, I ultimately thought the ability to walk through thin enough walls was enough of a boon on its own to make the decision.
I locked in my choice and smiled as the old familiar boots appeared in my hands.
“Boots?” Erasmus asked.
“Special boots,” I said.
“Hm.”
Movement caught my eye and I looked toward the shattered front gate. Small hairy figures were waddling toward us, teacup-sized eyes wide with wonder.
“Hmm.”
“Ahh.”
“Ooh.”
There was a chorus of reedy, high-pitched little voices as the grommets took in the scene.
“Hi, grommets,” I said, spotting Grimbo in the group. “I was hoping to see you guys. We just created a lot of spare metal. Do you think you all could work on transporting this to outpost two and get it to Old Torgen? Ask him to melt this down and turn it into more weapons and armor for our people.”
Grimbo smiled from beneath his hair. “The Thrask gromville has one request… we are respecting the horny one, of course, but…”
A grommet with a noticeably rounded belly stepped forward. “We are needing soup. If you are giving us soup, we are doing anything you ask.”
“Soup?” I said, not quite sure I understood. Usually, the grommets were just happy to help. In their own way, at least.
“The bald one’s soup,” Grimbo said. “It is causing… joy. We require more of it.”
I opened my mouth, not sure what to say, then shrugged. “Okay, sure. I’ll make sure Protus brews a special grommet batch of soup. Then you guys will do what I’m asking?”
The grommets womped a little and bobbed on their feet, smiling all around.
Grimbo shuffled closer. “You are being able to count on us. And… this one requests more roots in the soup. You will ask him this?”
“Sure,” I said.
The grommets rushed into action, yanking metal armor and weapons from the dead ragelings and waddling out of view.
Erasmus moved to my side. “You think Protus will agree to make the soup?”
“Let’s hope. I don’t want to know what happens when grommets get mad.”
Comments
Ben Bass
TYFTC! Too bad the outposts don't unlock skills, that would be very useful to Brynn. I do like the idea he has his 'get out of jail free' boots back. I do think Protus won't mind too much about making grommet soup, as they are really good at some grunt work. This tournament is doing wonders for his leveling too, I mean he gained 8 levels in just this chapter!
clagann
Very nice chapter :)
Mr.Turtle
Thanks for the chapter!
