Chapter 127 - TFF (Patreon)

The new monsters were a confused mess for a few seconds until as one they turned toward the sounds of fighting. The strange wolves quickly separated into packs and moved like streams of water – silent and fluid through the ruined temple’s buildings.

Alan left his vantage point and moved to intercept one of the smaller groups. There were less than a dozen wolves. They didn’t look stronger or faster than the dolls, but their numeric advantage would probably pose a problem for his current fighting style.

On the way, he created a spear of pure shadows. The amount of mana it took was larger than simply coating his staff, plus it took a constant stream to prolong its existence. It was not that heavy of a burden though. He wondered if he could make a bow or simply learn to throw spears.

The bow experiment hadn’t gone well in his early post-apocalypse days, but he was a different person now.

Soon he was upon the wolves. He decided to take the initiative and surprise the pack so if he needed to run there was a better opportunity to do so. His spear twisted and grew spikes around the tip as he rushed from the side, picking one of those who were walking the furthest from the group. The tip of the shadow weapon found one of the creatures and broke the wood-like flesh with little resistance. There was a whimper as both crashed into one of the nearby ruins.

You have slain: Woodflesh Prowler (54)

Alan felt some of his mana pour into the [Monochrome Armor’s] twisting shadows to reinforce the parts that had weakened. That was a first. He hadn’t willed it to do so, but there was no time to ponder now. The wolf was much weaker than anticipated. It probably had to do with their number.

He twisted away the spear from the remains of the wolf, which was sporting a massive hole in the middle of its torso, and fled without looking back. The prowlers were silent although one of them had been recently slain, but once he got some distance he turned and saw them relentlessly moving toward him. They were quite fast considering the terrain.

It was a good opportunity for some more testing. Alan waited until they neared him and poured some more mana into the spear, willing it to blow up. Then threw it.

His strength was nothing special, but it was still a few times over the limits of normal humans, so the spear flew far. He missed the mark by a wide margin and the spear stabbed to the side of the pack, who paid it no heed.

A few seconds later it unraveled with a silent puff, before disappearing.

Fuck.

Alan started running again while occasionally throwing knives, bolls, and at one point a spoon toward the pack, trying to make them explode like [Mana Zap] had. However, it seemed like he’d have to figure out a way to create [Shadow Creation] with [Mana Zap] if he wanted anything similar, but more sustainable to what he’d achieved on accident.

He circled a few times, waiting to see if the prowlers would give up. They didn’t. There was no sign of fatigue either but that was to be expected from strange monsters.

Time to test out my new favorite book then.

The Tome of Cultivating Skills appeared silently before him. It quickly opened on the first page, which was the beginning of the script for [Mountainbreaker Waves].

Alan didn’t know how to do this but he still grabbed at the skill mentally and aimed it at the coming pack. It was not different than how he was using his own skills. There was a pause before the tome became a blue ball of mana.

There was a change in the air. Water suddenly churned around Alan’s feet. Salty air filled his lungs.

The fuck?

As if it had always been there water rose from beneath the ground and fell from mid-air. It quickly grew and rushed toward the incoming pack. It was something between pure mana and water, not pure physical water. The sight confused him but he could feel the strength behind the skill. It was not raging, nor angry.

The prowlers hesitated for the first time. Alan hadn’t seen much water on the fractal, apart from the shallow pool around the void jessamine he had picked.

The first wave hit the pack and made them roll backward, but the damage was minimal. Then came a second, stronger one, that crashed into them a second later and made few whine out. Alan saw broken limbs in the aftermath. Then came the third, the fourth, and the fifth.

The waves crashed into ruins and remnants and slowly obliterated everything in their path. Messages for the slain prowlers rang in Alan’s mind but he paid no heed to them. By the sixth wave, there was an even strip of land before him. There were no remnants of the prowlers. He saw no cores. Everything had been squashed by the weight of the skill.

That was fun. I don’t see its application in a one-on-one fight, but I guess it has value for now. I might switch out later, but for now, it’s a good thing to have.

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

He was a bit regretful because considering the strength of the skill. The fact that it took three times less mana than the [Hateful Sea Cut], made the latter very attractive to his mind. Alan frowned and took out a doll core. He tried to will the mana into the Tome, hoping that he could recharge it in that way, but nothing happened.

Damn. Worth a try. Still no sign of the curse either.

He called the Tome but there was no response. It was back inside of him though, but something was preventing it from manifesting.

Cooldown? Really?

That was an unexpected drawback. He wanted to at least try [Shadowsea Slash] as well.

Moments later he felt someone nearing and summoned a dagger as he turned. It was a few members of the outpost, but he didn’t put the weapon away.

They stopped a short distance away from Alan and looked at him with curiosity.

“Was it you that released so much water mana?” One of them asked. His tone was quite friendly but his expression was somewhat worried. Alan noticed some strange markings behind his ears and on the side of the person’s neck. His skin was somewhat blue too.

Alan saw no reason to deny it, thinking of Rosalyn and how she could tell the truth. “Yeah.”

Another one whistled and examined the damage. “Looks like a dried-out river bed. Strong stuff, guy. We just wanted to see what’s happening. Careful with the prowlers.”

“I am,” Alan smiled.

The group seemed unsettled and looked at each other before nodding their goodbyes and fleeing.

Why did they react like that? Whatever.

Alan moved closer to the larger group and watched the fighting from afar. The whole pack of prowlers had given him only a single level, bringing him to 72. It wasn’t that bad but other than the Tome he had no other ways to deal significant AoE damage. Maybe spamming shadow blades left and right could do it, but it was not worth wasting his energy.

He felt somewhat tired and was starting to become worried at how [Monochrome Armor] was behaving. Was the skill trying to advance or was it changing into something else? More often than not change had been good to him, but even trying to cancel the skill didn’t work. He was feeling lighter and better than ever, but he had written that off as an effect of his attributes.

But what if it was something else?

He took a deep breath in and exhaled. There were thin transparent whisps of shadow coming out of his mouth again. It looked cool, but only confused him further.

Watching the waves of prowlers crash into walls of warriors and mages soon became boring. It didn’t take him long to find Zirida. The [Red Cleric] seemed distant and worried while talking with Kalyntha.

“You look like shit,” Kalyntha greeted with a giggle. It sounded a bit forced, without her usual carefree attitude. There were some dark shadows on her usually vibrant and cheerful face.

Does that mean it’s not a metal clone? Or do they get tired as well?

“You’re as pretty as ever, Kaly,” Alan replied.

The girl looked at him weirdly. “Shadows got your brain or something?”

“Might’ve.” Alan let himself fall down and shadows swirled beneath him, turning into a rough chair. It was quite uncomfortable but it only took a few adjustments to make it the best chair his butt and back had ever graced. He could get used to this. And considering it was not made to be durable in battle, but stayed rather soft, it was cheap mana-wise too.

“Fuck off, is that for real?” Kalyntha exclaimed. “Make one for me!”

Alan obliged. It took a bit more effort but soon there were two more chairs. Zirida and Kalyntha sat down and after some adjustments, they seemed happy too.

“You’re not just a cute innocent little thing anymore huh? How fast he’s growing, eh Ziri?”

Zirida nodded with a tired smile.

“Is everything alright?” Alan asked.

Kalyntha exhaled with a growl. “We’re nearing the nest. The dragon is not there. I’ve found no black robes, and Master Wilbis is gone. I’m very close to sticking needles into everyone's head just to get a basic idea of what the fuck is going on.”

Alan waited for Zirida to say something but when she didn’t, he looked around and spoke in a lower volume. “You think Wilbis is involved?”

“No,” Kalyntha said instantly. “A gnome fucking over a dragon? No way. They worship the things and work for them at any given opportunity. Holding this Fractal is basically a gnome’s wet dream. Wilbis is smart and has his faults, but to be an Outpost Master here he’s bound by oaths we cannot imagine. The Deathless Plate itself is a responsibility no one without significant chains around their neck would be given.”

“Is it possible there’s something wrong with the outpost then? What came was Master Wilbis’ clone, correct? Or projection? What if something has happened and this is all bait? The prowlers came out of a portal, by the way.”

That made the two snap to attention.

“A portal?”

“What kind of portal?”

“I don’t know, I’ve not seen many portals,” Alan replied.

Kalyntha jumped up with curses and her orbs started circling. Two attached themselves to Alan’s shoulders and pulled at him without giving him even a second to resist. The same happened to Zirida.

In an instant they were in the air, flying over the battlefield. Alan tried to protest but it was like Kalyntha had gone deaf. They moved faster and faster until they were near the nest Alan had seen from afar. It’d taken longer than he’d assumed to get there.

Are my eyes that much better or am I imagining things? They work normally now.

It was hard to tell whether it was perception playing tricks on him, some effect of all the spatial tears and void mana, or a change.

They floated in the air and watched as the portal opened occasionally to spew monsters. They came in waves of parasites, shifters, and prowlers.

“I was wondering why there were so many different monsters here!” Kalyntha said through grit teeth. “Only the dolls roam the temple typically. Someone is bringing them here from the goddamn battlefield.”

She didn’t wait for the rest to answer as she shot toward the portal. A wave of death followed her and Alan gaped as the orbs became saw blades that decimated both scenery and monsters to bits. In seconds, all that was left was Kalyntha amidst the wreckage. The portal didn’t open anymore.

She lowered Alan and Zirida to the ground and showed them a circular object. It was as big as a vinyl record, thick and pale blue, and littered with microscopic symbols.

“An artifact. Quite an expensive one if it's able to deal with all the void mana around.”

“We’ve been played for fools!” Kalyntha raged. One of her orbs fell from above and rammed straight into the disc with a ringing sound that made Alan cover his ears. Shadows coalesced instantly to protect his eardrums. His hands followed shortly after.

Both the disk and orb remained unbroken.

“Back to the outpost?” Alan suggested quietly.

Without a word, Kalyntha took them to the skies again.

Dragon scales are not that cool anyway.