Soul of Blades - Chapter 9: The Horde (Patreon)

As the light fell in the distance, touching the horizon, casting long, languid shadows across the jungle terrain, Alex sat in the entrance of his cave, gazing down at the world below.

He'd spent the past week inside this mountain, living off of what the land provided. With the help of his stats, the memories of a high school free-climbing field trip, and some strategic uses of 'Phoenix Leap,' he'd managed to secure this hidden cave near the summit.

By the base, a freshwater lake glittered under the rays of the false moonlight. To Alex, It was a strange fantasmal beauty, especially considering the fact that there was no moon, or clouds in sight. There was only a strange nebula of stars hanging above the island. He had discovered the lake on his seventh day. The system had chimed in his mind then, a message encased in square brackets:

[Survivor Feat unlocked. Proceed to the portal to claim reward. Final floor of incursion dungeon available.]

He’d puzzled over that. ‘Final floor’ it said… Aren't dungeons supposed to have multiple floors? Why did this one only have two?

Alex sat at the edge of the cave, a cliff, gazing down at the verdant jungle. The last week in the mountain had subjected him to an onslaught of trials, becoming an unforeseen crucible of survival. He had grown, as the dungeon's crucible had acted as a harsh master, instilling its lessons deep within his very being. Over the gruelling week, he had become accustomed to the dance of life and death. The constant battles had left their mark on his muscles, his senses had become heightened.

And he had survived.

In the beginning, finding food had been a battle of its own. He’d had to hunt down wolves, the memory of their howls, their strength, their fierce struggle still etched in his mind. But eventually, he'd found a jungle section filled with giant bananas and fruits that tasted like a blend of watermelon and pineapple. Then he'd met the giant gorillas. Massive, terrifying beasts that hoarded those heavenly fruits and did not take kindly to him trying to share.

The first encounter was a shock.

A gorilla, triple his size, had lumbered towards him. It had appeared almost out of thin air as it fell from the canopy towards the ground, the rumbling crash of its landing had alerted Alex to the danger. At the time, It was monstrous and seething with fury. His heart pounded, blood roaring in his ears as he faced down the enormous beast. A swift motion, a grating screech, and the creature was upon him.

The silverback had lunged, but Alex was quicker. A swift Phoenix Leap propelled him over the beast's head, his crude sword slicing down.

The gorilla roared, furiously swiping at him. He had ducked, but not fast enough. The beasts backhand had sent him tumbling. He felt at a faint scar on his chest as he remembered the blow.

He had managed to roll away from another swipe, popping his healing potion to staunch the damage. With a roar of his own, he lunged, capitalising on his instant recovery, the crude bronze sword driven deep into the gorilla's spine.

The beast fell with a thunderous thud, and a system message flashed informing him that he had just slain a ‘level 8 Titanape’. He felt relieved to note that the strange glitching had stopped since his first skill selection, but he had yet to use his remaining crystal.

He'd had to resort to sneaking in, taking out any wandering patrols or lone Titanapes and grabbing as many fruits as he could before they noticed him. But despite his guerrilla warfare and jungle tactics, they always did, and then the chase would begin, with more apes crashing through the jungle every second. He had grown used to the sounds of their thunderous roars pursuing him.

“Status” he mumbled, as his gaze shifted to the empty space in front of him.

[Name: Alex Ironwood

Level: 16

Race: Human - Rank F

Primary Class: Locked

Sub-class: Locked

Strength: 67 (46)

Dexterity: 67 (46)

Endurance: 61 (42)

Intelligence: 93 (64)

Wisdom: 41 (28)

Feats: First Encounter, Pioneer, Pinnacle IV,

Skills: Phoenix Leap, A̷̶̵̴̲̳̱l̸̢͉̗̣̑͐͛à̸̶̵̴̶̷̶̺̥̮̯͇̲̳̱̼̲͒̈́̈͛͋͐͋͂ͅͅ ̷̷̶̴̵̶̷̸̴̶̷̵̢̳̮̲̳̱͉̗̣̲̳̱̏̄̑͐͛͝͠Ω̴̵̶̷̲̳̱ ̶̶̯͇̼̲̈́̈͛͋͐͋͂ͅ ̷̷̶̴̵̶̷̴̶̷̵̳̮̲̳̱̲̳̱̏̄͝͠g̵̶̷̴̲̳̱e̸̪̟͇͕͂e̶̷̵̴̲̳̱E̵̴̶̷̶̵̴̶̷̷̸̸̢̲̳̱̼̲̲̳̱̟̮̙͚͉̗̣̺̥̮͋͐͋͂̔̑͐͛̀͒ͅͅ ̶̷̶̴̵̶̷̯͇̲̳̱̈́̈͛ ̷̸̴̶̷̵̳̮̪̟͇͕̲̳̱̏̄͂͝͠M̷̶̵̴̲̳̱m̸̵̴̶̷̸̷̸̴̶̷̵̢͉̗̣̲̳̱̪̟͇͕̟̮̙͚̺̥̮̲̳̱̑͐͛͂̔̀͒ͅ ̶̯͇̈́̈͛ ̷̸̶̢̳̮͉̗̣̼̲̏̄̑͐͛͋͐͋͂͝͠ͅO̷̟̮̙͚̔o̶̼̲͋͐͋͂ͅᾯ̴̵̶̷̵̴̶̷̷̸̸̸̢̲̳̱̲̳̱̟̮̙͚̪̟͇͕͉̗̣̺̥̮̑͐͛̀͒ ̶̯͇̈́̈͛ ̷̶͎̠̠̖̼̲̿́͋͐͋͂ͅ ̷̳̮̏̄͝͠ ̷̶̴̵̶̷̵̴̶̷̴̶̷̵̲̳̱̲̳̱̲̳̱ ,

Dao:

Unassigned stat points: 0 ]

Those encounters had helped him level up significantly, ten levels in a week, he had gained a whopping 102 stats, and those were just the bonuses he received from his feats alone. As a result, he had long since transcended the limits of humanity; He now had the stats of someone around level 56. He felt superhuman, but no additional skill crystals had dropped, leaving him to ponder how to acquire more.

But despite his gains, not once had he felt safe. Death lurked in every corner, and behind every tree. He'd often found himself outnumbered, and constantly fatigued. Many times he'd had no choice but to flee in order to recover his fading strength and plan an ambush of his own as they pursued.

There was no real way to escape the wolves' powerful tracking without bathing himself in the dirt and mud of the jungle, and that hadn't  always worked. At times they had been able to match his strength in some way, and chased him too quickly. He'd had to resort to leading them far back to traps he had set the day before, and in one case, all the way back to Plantie. It had set his journey back by days.

It had been a hellish week, and his stats had counted for nothing; the constant fatigue had taken its toll, a majority of his days were spent securing his perimeter with traps and points of escape as he moved towards the mountain. Rock Falls, log traps, Spike springs, and pitfalls had been his constant ally. The pits had been filled with the horns and heads of horned wolves. And the logs didnt always finish the job, but they created enough disarray and injury to a low him to sweep through and annihilate smaller groups of wolfmen like a spectre. Sometimes they didn't see him coming. Other times they recovered immediately and gave chase as he fled to the next ambush site.

He had learned a few things about the system through his grueling trek across the jungle.

The first thing he'd learned was that while inventory skills weren't common, they weren't exactly rare either. Occasionally he'd defeat a monster with an inventory skill of some sort, and although they never seemed to have anything of value, he craved that skill. The ability to carry a multitude of items without any burden in such a dangerous environment would be invaluable.

Another thing he'd learned was the value and rarity of ‘healing potions’. The system only gave rewards for feats and quests, and aside from the first feats rewards none of them had been health potions. No matter how many beasts, monsters  or wolfmen he defeated he received no rewards, and none of the quest rewards implied any kind of healing element. That indicated to him that the teams of people expected to enter this ‘dungeon’ would probably have some other form of healing. Probably a skill or some other means.

Alex held his last healing position tight. Right now, it was his most valuable possession besides his sword.

He'd also learned about traps, and the effect indirect hunting had on experience gain.

Finding a dead beast in an old trap had confirmed it. He had received no random notifications, no notices of experience gained from his traps, aside from the times he'd led beasts or monsters through them directly. Although the one time he’d remained and watched a smaller beast crushed by a trap had seemed to work. It had netted him experience, and he'd hardly even had to move.

It seemed the system counted involvement or some kind, or an active connection to the event for it to qualify as something worthy of experience gain; whether a prior attack, chasing, baiting, or simply being present and observing while hidden in shadow.

But what if he had a skill that killed indirectly? How would that work? Would he still get experience? And how did skill ranks work? Since this was an E Ranked world, would everyone else in the world have E Rank skills? Or were skills of all ranks awarded freely by the system?

The last week had provided him with a few answers, and even more questions.

He'd slept for mere hours each day, and was constantly alert as he moved through the jungle with bloodshot eyes. It was draining, both physically and mentally. There was just no time to rest, hardly any time to sleep, even in a field of traps a wolf would still break through. Or two. Or three. If he had not found a sword early on, he would have died. And even with his sword, he hadn't thought he would live past the week. At least, not until he found the cave.

The cave had changed everything. With Phoenix Leaps, bounding up the mountain had been childs play. A base of operations and an untouched place to rest had allowed him to recover his strength, assess the dungeon,and plan his next move.

But still, his days spent sleeping in the jungle had been hell.

A hell that had forged him into something more than what he was when he'd stepped foot past the jungle's treeline. He looked at his stats once more as he thought of his ordeals as pride swelled through him.

Pride at surpassing his limits. Another alien feeling. Despite the hell he'd faced, he couldn't bring himself to hate this place. He'd felt more alive in this past week than he had in the last two decades. He'd discovered more of himself, his art, his way of life, the true nature of combat, and what he was truly capable of when death stared him in the eyes.

He smiled.

[Strength: 67 (53)

Dexterity: 61 (42)

Endurance: 61 (42)

Intelligence: 90 (62)

Wisdom: 41 (28)]

His intelligence stat was the highest, followed by strength and then dexterity.

He had originally planned to focus solely on dexterity and strength for the speed and power of his blade, but the grueling endless battles and constant ambushes had forced him to allocate differently. He had been constantly outnumbered, and constantly ambushed, even in his few hours of sleep. Death from above, behind, and from all sides. To survive, he'd focused everything on his senses, his reactions, and didn't regret it.

It had been the right call.

Alex stepped toward the cave's edge as rain began to fall. Warm droplets pattered and splashed against moss-covered rocks, releasing earthy scents. The beads of rainwater collided with ferns and bushes, creating a pattern of splashes and ripples that painted the jungle below. Breathing deeply, he savored the dampness; the moist air filling his lungs and the wet rain caressing his skin, before settling into stance. His hands clasped the hilt of his sword, and his stance widened, body low and ready. His eyes softened and unfocused, his senses spreading wide as his gaze drifted, settling on nothing- lost in the vastness of the rain-soaked jungle.

His eyes relaxed and set forward yet latched onto nothing, focused on nothing and everything, embracing the full breadth of his peripheral vision. Peripheral vision, he knew, was a fighter's ally. It grasped even the most minute of movements in detail, without the need to focus on anything at all. peripheral vision in combat was to grasp all details and movements, even the most remote and minute in the corner of one’s vision without having to look at anything in particular, it could allow you to recognise feints, or plant feints and tricks if your own using your eyes as decoys. And now, It allowed Alex to perceive the movements of each tree, each branch of the jungle below, every single one. Not by direct sight but through the subtlest shifts in the periphery. It was as Bruce Lee might say, not looking at the moon or the finger pointing to it, but being wholly aware of both, and everything else in between, noticing any shift or tremor.

Alex drew his sword and slashed; a raindrop was split in two. He slashed again and again, each time severing or swiping raindrops away. Time hadn't slowed, and the world hadn't stilled; the rain fell fast. Yet, he saw everything. Every drop was in his vision, he could probably count them if he was truly present, instead of unfocused, and if he was any good at subitizing.

Honed to perfection and qualitatively multiplied by almost 100 stats, Alex could instantly grasp all movements within 180 degrees, or 360 degrees if he shifted his head slightly to the right or left.

He cleaved a raindrop, watching its remnants scatter as he cleaved two more, and yet his head barely moved. Like most things, this could be trained. The brain could work in a myriad of ways modern life had erased. You could train both arms to move independently, play the piano with one hand while assembling a PC with the other. Or catch two fists from two different opponents at two entirely different angles. There were two stages to this, he had learned, the first was muscle memory; the act of moving conscious actions partially or completely into the realm of subconscious- effectively turning a complex action or task into something of a subroutine, something that required no attention. The second stage was to train your brain's muscle memory, to acclimate a brain to processing and receive multiple points of information at once. You could watch a movie while listening to a radio show and keep track of both, eventually. Or read an article while holding a conversation. Or like some crazy people back to earth had done for no particular reason- effortlessly juggle live chainsaws. Without magic and with nothing but the mundane, you could train your brain to do almost anything. To expand it in ways that would seem impressive or impossible to most, and the path to such expansion was simple; repetition.

It was a concept Alex was intimately familiar with, he had been doing it for years. Decades. And the system had taken it and made it more.

He was in a trance, slashing in practiced movements, movements repeated so many times he didn't think as his arms moved. His training in kendo and the arts of the sword became a whirlwind of inhuman speed, each stroke landing with unerring precision.

He stood and sheathed his sword in one swift movement, and for a brief second, the world within the reach of his blade stilled. Only a few drops of rain fell within his space. Ten, he realized. Within a sphere above and around him, the world was dry, in contrast to the deluge that assaulted the jungle. It was as if his sword had carved reality.

The second ended, and the rain fell.

He sighed, straightened, and relaxed. His thoughts on the nature of stats and evolution. Intelligence, strength, and dexterity huh… not bad. He did not regret that decision at all.

He looked down towards the jungle. And looked at an element that had been the cause of most of his problems in his otherwise peaceful cave.

There was and had been, of course, another puzzle that kept his mind occupied. The Wolf tribe. In the belly of the mountain's shadow, a gathering of wolfmen, about a thousand strong, lived. Guarded by horned wolves, their camp sprawled at the base of the mountain.

His vantage point provided a clear view of their camp, the bonfires casting long, winding shadows on the rugged wolfmen. Every night, they'd engage in battles, their howls and the clash of their weapons echoing in the silent night air. The moment a victor emerged, the camp would erupt, their celebrations wild and filled with fervor. Their leader was a hulking beast, a wolfman with a mane as grey as the twilight sky. The Alpha.

One night, he observed a fierce battle. The Alpha, that mountain of a wolfman, wreathed in a strange burning halo, had taken on three challengers.

Its strength was beyond anything Alex had imagined and left him gaping in wonder and dread. He watched as the leader effortlessly tossed one of his opponents like a rag doll, the other two barely managing to dodge their airborne comrade.

Each resounding clash, each bestial growl, blasted through the calls and screams of the jungle, it was a savage brawl that had the entire camp - and Alex - watching with bated breath. The alpha had tossed them aside as if they were mere playthings, not even using whatever strange skill caused it to be submerged in a halo of flames.

He still wondered what level that thing was.

In the aftermath of the battle, the wolf tribe's primal celebration had an almost mesmerising effect. Their unified howls tore through the air overpowering the sounds of the jungle, resonating with a wild melody that gripped Alex's senses. The haunting nightly sounds were a constant reminder of the imminent clash he would have to face to claim greater power.

Despite the odds stacked against him, Alex still wanted to complete the final quest, to gain as much strength as he could, and prepare to face the outside world, and ‘worlds’ apparently. But looking at the numbers, at the raw power that radiated from the camp below, he had no idea how to achieve it. Despite successfully ambushing many wolf guards, hunters, and packs that ventured out of the camp, it made no difference. They only became more watchful, sending out larger numbers and their strongest warriors. He found himself outnumbered a thousand to one, with the odds not in his favor.

He needed a plan. But what kind of plan could stand against such an overwhelming force?

He sighed, pushing himself to his feet. The false daylight had completely disappeared, replaced by a beautifully breathtaking nebula of twinkling and sifting stars. With a final glance at the moonless night sky, Alex went inside his cave to prepare some sort of plan to tackle the dungeons' impossible challenge, and get some sleep.

***

An explosion. A brutal, ear-splitting noise tore through the tranquillity of the night.

Startled awake, Alex shot up in his makeshift bed. The scent of smoke and burning wood immediately invaded his senses, causing him to choke. He dashed to the cave entrance, his heart pounding a drum of war in delirium as his gaze swept over the landscape.

His eyes widened.

The jungle was ablaze.

What he saw was chaos. Below, the jungle had morphed into a violent battlefield. Flames devoured the once lush foliage, illuminating the horrific scene in a harsh blaze. In the distance, he saw the battles raging. It was a wild melee, a mad dance of death. The wolfmen and monstrous gorillas were locked in a brutal struggle at the foot of the mountain. They clashed amidst the inferno, their cries and roars reverberating into the night as his gaze followed a stark black line from the mountain to the portal, a trail of charred trees and scorched earth. A distinct path of utter devastation, a black streak of crushed and charred jungle that stretched from the mystic portal to the mountain. Something had torn through the forest with unfathomable force.

An invasion.

Or war, maybe. Alex couldn't be sure. Something had clearly erupted from the portal, something violent, and the wolfmen camp had borne the brunt of it. A swath of charred earth and twisted trees connected the mountain to the portal, an obvious trace of some powerful rampaging force. Still, from this distance, it was difficult to discern details. He squinted, trying to make out the specifics.

Bodies lay strewn across the earth, wolfmen and titanapes alike, and the sight of a charred trail slicing through the heart of the jungle made his pulse quicken in concern. Multicoloured lights flashed violently amidst the inferno, a macabre light show of offensive magic that painted a vivid tableau of destruction and death.

What had happened?

The scarred path suggested an incursion - something monstrous had emerged from the portal, trampling anything in its path. Alex drank in the sight, his eyes absorbing the chaos with shock. His jaw clenched, the depth of the situation drawing a thin line between his brows. He realised that he was lucky to be alive. The scar on the face of the jungle, the gaping wound of charred earth and scorched trees, seared from the portal at the foot of the mountain in one fell swoop, leading right up to where he stood.

His breath hitched.

Invasion. War. Destruction. Thoughts collided in his mind as he tried to piece together what had occurred.

Hundreds of wolfmen and giant gorillas were still engaged in the relentless battle. Despite all the patrols he'd defeated, there seemed no end to the ranks of wolfmen and titanapes. A sense of frustrating insignificance washed over him. The scale of the struggle dwarfing anything he'd previously faced. All he could do was watch, a lone spectator to the savage ballet. But that was fine. He could use this to his advantage, wait for an opportunity to strike, maybe after the war was nearing its end, he would be able to ‘conquer’ the wounded survivors somehow? After all, There was no limit on how long he needed to be here.

Time was on his side.

But his thoughts were suddenly cut short.

A loud chime. The tell-tale sign of a system message, snapped him back to the harsh reality of his situation.

[Dynamic Quest - Incursion Event: A juvenile phoenix, the world spirit of planet designation ‘Titanhold’ is rebirthing at the head of the mountain. Seize its ashes before the Apex Canid’s and Titanape’s leaders to gain a glimpse of immortality!

Reward: Insight of the Phoenix]

For a moment, the jungle seemed to stand still and a stunned silence enveloped the scene. Even the fiercest battles paused, as if the denizens of the jungle, too, had received the same message. The silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the recent chaos. Alex could almost feel the collective intake of breath, the shared moment of comprehension.

And then, they moved. A mass of fur and muscle, all discarding their battles to race up the mountain, the silence shattered as the battlefield erupted once more. Alex could feel the ground shaking ad trembling beneath their charge. He momentarily froze before taking action once he realised what was happening, and clutched his remaining skill crystal in his hand, intent on using it.

They were coming. Every wolfman, every monstrous gorilla, hundreds of them were all rushing up the mountain in leaps and bounds.

Directly towards Alex.