Chapter 120 - TFF (Patreon)

Alan followed behind Zirida trying to understand the situation. As far as he understood the dragon’s disappearance was worrying as it was the whole reason the Fractal was given the attention it had, despite how little it offered in terms of resources. Apart from the void jessamine plan, void cores, and some other trivial monster parts or remnants of the Void Tree itself, which were rare, it had no value.

It existed to become stable enough to allow the dragon to exit. It was also a decent grinding spot for some. From what Alan gathered its disappearance meant that someone very powerful would become very angry. He saw a few groups rushing toward the teleportation circle beneath the Deathless Plate, but it was gray and unresponsive. There was a lot of murmuring and shouts, but most stood with worried faces, gazing at the towers.

The distant sounds of the battlefield reached his ears from time to time. There was no rest for those who had to hold the line there. Alan briefly thought about Emerson. He hadn’t made any effort to reach his friend and decided that with his current strength, all he would manage would be dooming himself too.

Even Kalyntha looked serious as she threw glances at the Plate and the Towers, waiting for something. Probably Wilbis.

The gnome appeared soon after. Or its massive projected face did. It was unsettling, to say the least – a giant floating head that threatened to swallow the crowd. He didn’t waste any time or words.

“The dragon is lost. We need to find it or we’re royally fucked! Everyone will receive a designation at random. The battlefield cannot be left unattended. The towers will be set to maximum output. Two will support the battlefield, one will cast a [Sentry Net] around the outpost to make sure no one takes advantage of the situation. You can trade designations freely. The raid toward the Void Tree Temple will start in a few hours. Make your preparations and preferably find a group. I don’t have time to micromanage. You’re all adults. Act like it or I’ll kill you myself. Boomstick out.”

The head disappeared. The speech was oddly succinct coming from the talkative gnome. Alan took out his card as he saw others doing it too. It said raid. He wasn’t sure what he preferred, but looking at Kalyntha smiling and mouthing ‘raid’ to Zirida, he quickly decided to stick to the two women. The battlefield was a good grinding spot, but the hunt for the stolen dragon sounded more exciting.

This was the stuff he had expected when the world became like a game. Not all the bullshit drama and difficult choices. And mistakes. A bout of hesitation washed over him but was quickly suppressed by the desire for strength that he had found.

“So, what now?” Alan asked.

“We raid the goddamn Temple!” Kalyntha pumped her fist in the air, looking like a little girl rather than the cold killing machine she was.

“Aha.”

Zirida sighed, “This is unprecedented. We need to prepare. If you have anything left to do I suggest you do it now. I think the battlefield is the safer option for you, but the raid will offer more opportunities. Just be wary, many will make use of the chaos and chase personal goals.”

“Despite the threat of total annihilation?”

“Was your world any different before the System?” It was a genuine question and the [Red Cleric] stood and watched as Alan’s face went through a few different phases.

“No,” he finally said, “No, I don’t think so. I’m a cynical asshole though.”

Kalyntha giggled and clapped a hand on Alan’s shoulder, making him stumble. It weighed a ton.

“Wops, my bad,” she said. “Don’t you worry Alan boy, stick with us and all will be fine! I’ll bleed the brain of anyone who tries to harm you.”

The prospect seemed to excite her. Alan was glad he was on her good side.

Alan tried to find Byrr or Feyrith in the crowd but he had no luck. The group separated and each went to prepare in their way. Kalyntha mentioned something about metal and ‘drinking’ while Zirida had to do combat meditations to prepare for the large expenditure of blood. That sounded interesting, but Alan wasn’t about to intrude. The spars had already given him more than he had hoped and he needed some time to digest and properly make the learned his own.

He reached his room soon, passing by nervous and annoyed merchants. Most of the shops had closed as if they had never been, which probably had to do with the fact that almost everyone had some form of spatial inventory. The outpost had grown oddly silent and he wondered how many had things to prepare for the upcoming battles.

He had few things to do. The most pressing one was to pour some mana into the book from the spirit. Trying to infuse his bones with the piece of void bark seemed like a risky venture, but the gains would be massive… if it didn’t kill him. Or turn him into a monster. He frowned.

Enchanting my skeleton with void couldn’t possibly make me mutate. I still need to consider that the token was special and that’s why it did what it did. I should ask Zirida or someone else about it. Maybe it's best to go to the Bazaar. Bones might know something about it, but he’s creepy as fuck.

Alan summoned the small bone the weird [Warlock] had given him and studied it. It was just a carved bone without an ounce of magic around it. Which was weird in itself. There was magic everywhere. Mana permeated the air, the dirt, the rocks, and the trees. Even if it was inert and shapeless, it was there.

The bone, however, had none. He hadn’t noticed that before. He briefly considered breaking it and just getting rid of the problem but something stopped him. Angering a mysterious patron was not on his to-do list. He had already done enough damage to himself. Or was being passive another mistake? He had no proof that the strange [Warlock] was going to harm him, despite the creepiness.

He put that away for now and summoned the most interesting gain he’d had since coming to the fractal. The information appeared in his mind without prompt, which was a welcome change compared to all the other items he had to memorize. He’d once again forgotten to look for an identification skill. There was too much to do.

There were changes.

Tome of Cultivating Skills (Unique)

An item made long ago by a madman, who deemed it defective and threw   it away in a strange sea. It found its way to the enigmatic spirit tinker Odu of the Wavy Mists. The Tome has taken some of the characteristics of the waters it has spent years forgotten in.

The Tome can store skills, letting them grow stronger and changing them to better fit its nature.

The number of pages taken by a single skill depends on its complexity and strength.

To store a skill, cast it on one of the pages.

Current skills held: 3

Pages: 22/30

Current casts of Mountainbreaker Waves (7) left: 0

Current casts of Hateful Sea Cut (11) left: 0

Current casts of Shadowsea Slash (1) left: 0

Feed skill crystals to the Tome to make it grow.

Provide mana to charge the skills.

Shadowsea Slash?

That was certainly interesting. Even without mana, it had changed his skill. Alan took out the remains of the mana stone and willed the mana into the tome. It was like taking it into himself, but more separate.

The tome drank like a thirsty animal before a creek and didn’t stop until the large mana stone became as dull as a rock and cracked in the middle.

That prompted another change.

Current casts of Mountainbreaker Waves (7) left: 2

Current casts of Hateful Sea Cut (11) left: 0

Current casts of Shadowsea Slash (1) left: 8

Alan’s brows furrowed. He took out the 5 extra mana stones and after some thought fed them all to the book. It took half the time until they were dust in his hands.

Did that mean that all of the mana he had fed it wasn’t enough for a single cast of Hateful Sea Cut? That was too greedy. Alan couldn’t possibly justify spending so much mana on a skill he didn’t even know the effect of. Sure, it sounded pretty straightforward but he didn’t trust the system or the weird spirit. Was he to just charge and charge and then blow all the stored mana away on a gamble, when he had no other options left?

I will judge after I cast Mountainbreaker Waves.

Another part of it all he was interested in was learning from the tome and the changes it forced upon the skills. If the item could alter the System-given skills, what stopped Alan from learning to do the same? He didn’t want to rely on the generosity of the all-mighty System forever. Maybe it was a tall task, but it was a possibility and a beginning.

He hesitated. There was still time and the walk to the so-called temple would probably last long enough for him to refill his mana pool.

The tome took a large amount of mana without an issue and soon the counter rose again.

Current casts of Mountainbreaker Waves (7) left: 3

Current casts of Hateful Sea Cut (11) left: 1

Current casts of Shadowsea Slash (1) left: 12

That was better. He would start with the [Shadowsea Slash] and briefly considered using it in his room but gave up on the idea. It was a good room. Water skills were not his forte, but hopefully, with time, the book would become more suited to himself, rather than the place it had been fished out from.

Putting another skill into it also passed through his mind, but there was a lot to choose from. Most tempting were [Monochrome Armor] which would be his bread and butter once again, and maybe [Curse: Stolen Life].

He had eight pages to work with. Making a decision he willed the skill of [Curse: Stolen Life] into the book. Page after page started being filled with strange scribbles and symbols depicting the skill until seven of them were full.

That was very interesting. [Curse: Stolen Life] was graded as an epic skill. Did that mean [Mountainbreaker Waves] was of the same grade? Did that have anything to do with complexity? Alan was sure sometimes simplicity would have the edge over complexity. But how did the book interpret that?

He checked the tome’s description but it remained the same. Maybe it needed time to transform the skill into one suited for itself. It hadn’t had much of an issue with [Shadow Slash] but it had been already days since he first inscribed it onto the pages.

That left one more page.

He tried [Synaptic Failure] which seemed like another great option, but the tome didn’t respond. Did it need more pages than [Shadow Slash] then? It made sense. [Shadow Slash] was a normal skill that was simply attached to the rare [Shadow Weapon], while [Synaptic Failure] was a rare skill on its own.

Alan rubbed the bridge of his nose. He needed to try the book a few times to make sure it worked similarly to what he assumed.

He put it away for the time being, deciding to feed it some more mana whenever he could. He did stock of the items in his shadow space, briefly considering the piece of bark. It hadn’t done anything to his spatial inventory, which was a good thing, but he still felt hesitant to handle it without knowing more.

His staff and daggers were there, and so was a lot of food and booze. That was essential. With nothing else to do, he sat cross-legged and decided to meditate for a while. He needed time to fully comprehend all that he had learned during the sparring.

The tome was safely tucked away, hovering inside of his inner world that had previously been just an empty space where his thoughts went during meditation. Now he saw it there, suspended into the nothingness of his soul. It was a bit creepy, but he felt nothing malicious from the item.

It made him happy. Finally, he could pretend to be a true spellcaster and not some sort of a weird all-over-the-place melee mage. Yes, he could pretend.