Chapter 73 - The First Threshold (Patreon)
Content
Sitting in the cottage in the middle of the sewers, Zeke turned the slim book that he’d found near the altar over in his hands, inspecting the unadorned cover. It was made of some unnamed leather that, instinctively, he knew wasn’t bovine in origin. But at least it wasn’t human skin, which was something he wished he didn’t know for certain. Images of the trolls’ preferred leather flashed through his mind.
Opening it, one glance at the text told him that it hadn’t been written in English. In fact, the lettering more closely resembled some of the glyphs that adorned the runes he studied so incessantly. After staring at it for a few seconds, something in his mind clicked, and he began to understand the book’s contents. Whether it was a translation feature of the Framework or his runic knowledge asserting itself, it didn’t take long for Zeke to get the gist of the book’s purpose – especially given that he’d seen the end result for himself.
With a sigh, he set aside both his smoldering anger and the book so he could focus on what was truly important – self-improvement. With a thought, his notifications flashed in front of his eyes, and as he read them, Zeke couldn’t keep a smile from spreading across his face. The first was predictable – he’d finally reached level fifteen, granting him fifteen more stat points to allocate. Without hesitation, he allocated those points into endurance.
Over the past few months, he’d had plenty of time to develop a plan for his future, and he had decided that, once his strength passed the two-hundred point threshold, he’d start focusing on endurance, then dexterity, and vitality, in that order. His reasoning was that, with his ability to heal himself via [Leech Strike], avoiding enemy attacks wasn’t as vital as the other physical statistics. However, given that he was confident in his ability to heal from anything but a brutally strong attack, it was imperative that he raise the upper limit of what he could withstand. Thus, the new focus on endurance.
After that, dexterity was the second half of his offense. Zeke had quite a bit of a head start due to his training as a baseball player in his old life, but piling on more dexterity would give his swings more accuracy. He hadn’t come into many situations where brute strength wasn’t enough to power through, but he knew that, as he progressed through the new world, the margin for error would grow smaller. Zeke wanted to be ready for that.
Finally, vitality was important for those situations where he wasn’t surrounded by enemies from which he could steal life energy. If the poisoning had taught him anything, it was that his body needed to be able to heal on its own; [Leech Strike] was a powerful skill, but he didn’t want to use it as a crutch. So, vitality would be the third stat in Zeke’s hierarchy of importance.
After all three of those reached the two-hundred mark, he was torn between improving his mental statistics or finally addressing his agility. But considering how long it had taken him to reach his current level, he suspected it would be months before he had to address that question. In that span, he could only hope that he managed a little more clarity. Or perhaps he could get some advice. Maybe Abby would know enough to help guide his development.
With his free stats allocated, Zeke moved onto the next notification:
Lord of the Sewers – Within the sewers of Beacon, you have defeated an elite-class nature elemental before reaching the First Threshold. +15 Vitality
Well, that was a nice surprise. Perhaps Zeke could get more achievements and reach his stat goals even more quickly than he’d anticipated. Fifteen extra vitality could certainly come in handy – after all, it was an entire level’s worth of stat allocation. Even if he wished it was endurance or dexterity, it would still prove to be a great boon.
But none of that was what had Zeke smiling. He had a lot of achievements, and he’d long since grown accustomed to gaining levels. What really excited him was the ability to choose a new skill that had come with reaching level fifteen. He mentally pushed the other notifications aside and focused on his skill choices.
The first was a little disappointing.
Pestilence Ward (G) – You have been brought to the edge of death by a powerful poison and returned from the brink stronger than ever. This ability allows you to leverage that experience into a ward against both poison and its cousin, disease, raising resistances by fifteen.
Zeke could certainly see the utility of such a skill. According to Abby, there were plenty of monsters out there that utilized poison and disease – not least of which were the undead to the north that he fully intended to confront sometime in the future. With [Pestilence Ward], he likely wouldn’t have to fear the disease that, once it took hold, would turn adventurers into the undead.
But the choice just wasn’t very exciting, was it? He’d spent months dreaming about his next skill, about throwing fireballs or shooting lightning from his hands. Or perhaps he could get something that would allow him to do damage to multiple monsters at once. Either way, as useful as [Pestilence Ward] likely was, Zeke found it difficult not to discard it out of hand. So, he moved on to the next choice:
Air Walk (G) – With your comparatively high agility, you practically float on the wind. It’s time to make that metaphor into reality. This skill, at its current level, allows you to harness the wind to make your steps lighter. It is the precursor to flight. Upgradeable.
Flight. The idea of soaring through the skies like a superhero nearly had him selecting the skill without even looking at the other choices. After all, what child hadn’t grown up dreaming about something like that? But after only a second or two, Zeke’s good sense prevailed, and he looked at the description a little more fully.
High agility? He’d just discarded the stat out of hand. Raising it wasn’t even in his immediate plans. But Zeke had to admit that with his many achievements, his agility probably was higher than most level fifteen adventurers. But that wouldn’t always remain the case. He had no illusions that he’d maintain that advantage. He was stronger right now, but it would’ve been stupid to assume that he was unique. And given that agility was mentioned in the skill’s name, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that advancement of the skill was likely tied to that stat. So, considering that he had no real plans of focusing on agility, it probably meant that he’d never develop the skill to the point where he could actually fly. So, with a sense of regret, Zeke pushed that option to the side. Then, he focused on the next option:
Mark of the Bear (G) – You have glimpsed the depths of runecraft, giving you a hint of the discipline’s versatility. In addition, you’ve shown great resilience in the face of many mortal wounds. Finally, you have chosen a path of the protector, putting your life on the line for others on many occasions. This skill will allow you to mark a companion with a rune which will increase their endurance and vitality by ten percent. Upgradeable.
“Okay, so now we’re cooking,” he muttered to himself. As soon as he’d read the skill, he could imagine how much such a mark could help both Pudge and Abby, as well as any other friends he picked up along the way. He didn’t know what Abby’s stats were, but he had a sense of Pudge’s. And a ten percent boost to the bear’s endurance and vitality would net him at least ten points in both stats. And that was only the beginning. The bear advanced differently than humans, with his stat spread following a predetermined path, and a full-grown dire bear would dwarf a similarly leveled adventurer in strength, vitality, and endurance. Enhancing two of its strengths by ten percent would end up being a huge advantage.
And regarding Abby, he didn’t think she would turn down anything that would help her survive a little longer. The skill was almost a perfect fit, except that it wasn’t exactly the flashy attack he’d envisioned. The only problem was that he could only mark allies, which meant that he couldn’t use the skill to boost his own stats. So, he moved on to the fourth option:
Wave of Lifedraw (G) – You are a master of draining vitality from your enemies. This skill will allow you to further delve into the mysteries of energy transference. With this skill, you may reach out to all enemies in a twenty-foot radius and drain a portion of their life energy into your own stores. Limited (once per day). Upgradeable.
Finally. A flashy offensive ability. It didn’t say it in the description, but Zeke’s intuition gave him a few hints at how [Wave of Lifedraw] would be used. First, it was a limited skill, which meant that it would function on a cooldown. However, that one use would be devastating, nearly sucking his enemies dry and transferring enough life energy into him that it could restore him from the brink of death.
But as powerful as the skill was, Zeke knew it was very situational. It wouldn’t do much against an elite-class monster. Instead, it was intended for large groups of relatively weak enemies. In that situation, it would be devastating. More than that, though, it would be undeniably cool to watch dozens of monsters fall over dead after the use of a single skill.
Zeke moved on to the final skill choice:
Brand of Futility (G) – Due to your study of runecraft as well as a propensity to fight enemies far exceeding your level, you have unlocked a skill which may serve to even the odds. This skill, once applied, will reduce an enemy’s statistics by ten percent. Limited (once per hour). Upgradeable.
Again, Zeke was impressed by just how well-tailored the skill seemed to be to his fighting style. He truly didn’t need much help fighting hordes of even-leveled monsters. So long as he maintained an appropriate level of concentration, he could mow through them without much difficulty. However, he knew just how close he’d come to death when he’d fought enemies much stronger than him. [Brand of Futility] could serve to even that score. Like [Wave of Lifedraw], though, it was a situational ability, not least because it, too, had a cooldown. Not as restrictive as the offensive skill, but still limiting enough that he couldn’t use it on every enemy he faced.
Zeke sighed. Each of the skills would be useful – some more than others. [Air Walk] was clearly the odd one out, so he discarded it from consideration. The prospect of flying was appealing, but there was every possibility he’d never reach that level of expertise. On top of that, taking a skill just because it might one day become useful seemed kind of unwise, at least to his thinking.
Regrettably, [Wave of Lifedraw] fell into a similar boat. As much as Zeke wanted another offensive skill, he didn’t really see how [Wave of Lifedraw]could increase his capabilities. It would be convenient at times – and time-saving – but he didn’t have trouble clearing a horde of comparatively weaker enemies. The only thing that might truly help was the idea that, in a situation where he was nearing death but surrounded by a host of monsters, the skill would allow him to drain enough life energy to heal himself back to pristine condition. But in that very specific circumstance, a few swings of his mace – or his fists – would do the same. So, he reluctantly pushed [Wave of Lifedraw] aside.
So, it came down to [Pestilence Ward], [Mark of the Bear], or [Brand of Futility]. Each of the three had their merits. Being functionally immune to poison and disease was certainly attractive. As was weakening strong enemies. However, his mind kept going back to his companions. Alone, Zeke was a wrecking ball who could make it out of most situations alive. However, Abby and Pudge weren’t nearly as capable. They had their strong points. With her arrows, Abby could do more damage to a single target than he could, and Pudge would eventually grow into an absolute monster. But right now, they were both fragile enough that he couldn’t help but worry about leading them into danger. The mere thought of losing either one of them was enough to make the decision for him.
He chose [Mark of the Bear].
I suppose I’ll just have to wait on my big, flashy offensive skill, he thought ruefully. However, he couldn’t help but feel that he’d made the right choice. Protecting his companions just felt right in a way that he didn’t think any of the other options would have. With a thought, he summoned his status:
His stats were really coming together, though he knew he still had a long way to go before he could truly challenge the elites of the new world, much less the higher planes that Oberon had referenced. If he was going to make a difference in the war with the demons, he needed to get much, much stronger.
But this was a good start.
Running his hand through his hair, Zeke stood. He didn’t store the book away, instead opting to carry it with him as he stepped away from the cottage. With a thought, he de-summoned the building and started on the long trek back to the surface. With every step, his anger, which he’d discarded while going over his gains, returned to the front of his mind, where it built upon itself until he felt ready to explode. He’d been sent into the sewers to die. He knew that as well as he’d ever known anything in his life. And the only reason he’d been able to survive was because of his uncommon power. Even then, the creature’s own power had seemed blocked, to a certain degree. If it had been able to access its full abilities, Zeke had no doubt that he would have been easily slain. With that knowledge in hand, Zeke resolved to make Callum Einar, the elder of the so-called Champions of Light, pay for trying to kill him.