Chapter 132 - The Grind (Patreon)
Content
I decided to go ahead and publish an extra chapter for this week. Oh, and if you haven't already, please head over to the story's Royal Road listing HERE, and leave a rating or review. Doing so helps me out! Anyway, enjoy the bonus chapter!
Over the following week, the group descended the mountains, and gradually, the climate began to transform the landscape. The towering pine trees faded away, leaving the terrain barren and lifeless – or at least seemingly so – and the mountains turned to hills, which in turn, became only a slight decline. Eventually, even that gave way to a great sea of dunes, with various rocky outcroppings for islands. Zeke stood atop one of these jagged peaks, almost a hundred feet above the sand, and staring at the huge pillar jutting into the sky. It was almost a mile away, but Zeke could still clearly see the swarming creatures ducking in and out of the holes which dotted the entire pillar.
“It’s like one of those termite mounds from Africa,” Tucker said, kneeling beside Zeke. The trek up the jagged peak had been much more difficult for him, owing to his bulk as well as the fact that he hadn’t invested many of his attribute points into the physical categories. “It’s one of the biggest I’ve ever seen, too.”
“And you’ve seen a lot of them, huh?” said Abby, who was standing on Zeke’s other side, her arms crossed. “You an expert on this, too?”
“Not an expert, no,” Tucker stated, keeping his tone entirely even. How he managed to keep his irritation with Abby’s distrust at bay, Zeke didn’t know, but he and Tucker had grown a good deal closer over the last couple of weeks, and the big alchemist had eventually laid his frustrations bare. He desperately wanted Abby to trust him, but she had so far kept him at arm’s length. “But anybody who’s traveled the Red Wastes knows a fire ant mound when he sees one.”
“And you said these fire ants are easy to kill, right?” Zeke asked.
“Easy is a relative term,” Tucker answered. “But with the right preparation, yes. On top of that, they’re nearly sentient. So, they give more experience than most beasts. If I were alone, I could sell the location of this mound for nearly four-hundred gold coins. The good ones, too.”
Zeke nodded. According to Tucker, mounds like the one before them were often used to push a person’s leveling speed to the next tier. The combination of relatively weak opponents and inflated experience made them prime grinding spots. And given that the mound in the distance was larger and more populated than what was normal, it stood to reason that this was a very rare opportunity to increase their relative power. As it stood, Abby was still a little ahead of everyone but Tucker, but while the Myconid nest hadn’t been as profitable, in terms of experience, as the gnoll village, they had still made significant progress towards their next levels.
Except Tucker, who claimed the change to the density of his core was barely even noticeable. Apparently, after level twenty, experience requirements grew exponentially more arduous. But that was a concern for another day. For now, Zeke had one thing on his mind: getting to level twenty and gaining a new skill.
For all the mental scars Abby had gained on her solo excursion, she’d also come away with an extremely powerful addition to her quiver of skills. And during their descent into the desert, she’d demonstrated just how strong her new skill was. With a single usage, she could obliterate almost any creature below level fifteen, and even the evolved monsters they’d encountered hadn’t fared much better.
And as much as it pained Zeke to admit, even to himself, he was a little jealous. More, seeing that skill in action had made him second-guess some of his own skill choices. Certainly, he was happy with the adjustments he’d made, which had transformed [Mark of the Bear] into [Avatar of the Beast]; afterwards, the others had looked at him like he’d turned water into win. Regardless of how much he’d explained the process, none of them had more than a cursory familiarity with runes, so his explanations had fallen on deaf ears. In a world of magic and superhuman feats, he’d accomplished something that, according to his companions, was supposed to be impossible. Even with that, though, he didn’t have a lot to personally show for it. It helped his friends, and he was grateful for that, but from a perspective of personal power, he was in the same place he’d been before his nearly three week foray into runecraft. Meanwhile, Abby had only had to sacrifice a few days, as well as an entire village’s worth of gnolls, and her power level had jumped to the top of the list. She’d gone from being the weakest member of their group to, in the right situations, being the most powerful. It was enough to strike envy into the heart of even the most stoic man.
Not that he would ever say as much to Abby, of course. No – she deserved every ounce of his support, and he would never give her anything less. Still, that resolution couldn’t stop the tendrils of jealousy from creeping around his heart and shoving him forward into the next challenge. Alas, the descent into the desert had given him few chances to progress, though.
“What kind of preparations?” asked Talia, who was standing behind the trio, her hand resting on Pudge’s shoulder. The bear had continued to grow, and Zeke judged his companion’s size to be something approaching that of a rhinoceros back on Earth. According to Talia, who’d made extensive study of the monsters of the Menagerie back in Beacon, he’d already exceeded the size of most dire bears, and Zeke thought he still had a little room to grow. Inside, though, Pudge was still as mature as an adolescent.
“The kind I can easily provide,” Tucker said. “Potions that increase your resistances to fire. They’re not difficult to make, and I have quite a few stowed away. This is a huge opportunity for us, and I think we should stay here for as long as the mound remains.”
“It’s going to move?” Zeke asked.
“The swarm will retreat far underground once the threat reaches a certain level,” Tucker explained. “A mound like this, though? I wouldn’t be surprised if you each gain a level. Maybe two. More, if you can keep the grind under their radar. Go slowly at first. Pick off a few groups here and there, then retreat. It’s slower at first, but it will maximize our overall gains. If we play this right, we can keep them from retreating underground for a few weeks.”
Zeke nodded. Tucker had already explained how the fire ants were primarily subterranean creatures, and that they only came to the surface for relatively short periods of time. Less, if they felt their queen was threatened.
“Are they sentient, though? Like the giants?” Abby asked. “I don’t want to sacrifice thinking creatures just so we can progress a little more quickly.”
Left unsaid was the word “again.” For all her strength – and she was the strongest person Zeke knew, Abby’s slaughter of the gnolls had definitely taken its toll. Zeke had tried to explain that they were monsters, that they would have killed her without a moment’s hesitation, had their positions been reversed, but Abby had barely even heard his arguments. He understood it, at least to a certain degree, but Zeke wasn’t afflicted with her talent for compassion. Sometimes, he thought about his own actions that had cut large swaths through various monster populations, but he never went so far as to regret anything he had done. Abby, though – she’d made no bones about the fact that she would have chosen a different path, had she known what her new skill would have cost. When Zeke had pointed out that doing so would have perpetuated the thunderbirds’ imprisonment and doomed their offspring, Abby had only muttered that there had to have been a better way.
Zeke didn’t have the heart to tell her how much he disagreed. Sometimes, violence was necessary to create the change you want to see. Whether it was slaughtering a group of monsters who’d enslaved others or it was a citizenry rebelling against their oppressors, the bottom line was that change – real change – didn’t happen without at least the threat of violence. On that unsaid argument, Zeke felt positive that he and Abby would disagree. But that was fine. They didn’t have to be the same person to love one another.
“No,” Tucker said. “They’re nearly as mindless as the ants on Earth, completely driven by instinct.”
“And you’re sure?” she persisted. “Absolutely sure?”
“As sure as I can be,” he answered. “When I was much younger, I made my first trip to the Red Wastes. There was a famous alchemist who lived as a hermit among the dunes, and…well, that’s beside the point. Anyway – I was traveling with a caravan when we came across a mound. The guards – all mercenaries belonging to the Black Stripes of Jariq – made the caravan camp for a few days so they could take advantage. It was about a quarter of the size of the one over there –” He pointed into the distance before he continued, “– and every single one of the guards got a level. I did, too.”
“Okay? We’re not arguing with the opportunity,” Abby said. “What I want to know is if you’re suggesting we commit genocide on a thinking race of insectoid people.”
“I was getting to that,” Tucker said. “So, we killed a few hundred of them before we backed off. They won’t get too far from their mound, so they didn’t pursue. The creatures are almost entirely worthless – aside from the queen, they don’t even have beast cores - so we just left the bodies there. The ants ate their fallen brethren.”
“Cannibalism?” Zeke asked.
“Yes,” Tucker stated. “If you don’t believe me, ask the walking monster encyclopedia. She’ll tell you the same thing. They’re not sapient. They’re not even sentient. They are mindless monsters.”
“The alchemist is correct,” Talia interjected when everyone turned their attention her. “The experts all agree.”
Abby looked momentarily conflicted before she sighed and said, “Fine. I guess we’re grinding then. How long are we going to stay?”
“As long as the mound is there,” Tucker responded. “Anything else would be a horrible waste.”
“Wasn’t asking you,” Abby said, fixing Zeke with a stare. “You’re just a tagalong.”
Zeke ran his hand over his head. Abby had cut his hair the day before, so it was only an inch or so long. “He’s right,” he said, which turned Abby’s stare into a glare. “We need to take advantage of this while we can. Who knows when we’re going to get an opportunity like this again? We need to be as strong as possible when we try to fight the wyrm.”
“Whatever,” Abby said. “Let’s just get ready, then. Tomorrow morning?”
“No time to waste,” Tucker said. “We have no idea how long this mound’s been here, and while conventional wisdom says that the bigger ones stick around for longer, it could be gone tomorrow, for all we know. It’s best to attack as soon as possible and keep the pressure constant for as long as we can.”
Abby looked annoyed, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she just said, “Alright, then. If we’re going to do it, we just need to do it. Let’s go.”
Zeke nodded. “I agree,” he said.
And with that, the group climbed down from the jagged peak, and began their trek toward the pillar. As the drew closer, Zeke asked, “What can we expect here? Anything special? Or are they kind of like drachnids?”
“Not like drachnids at all,” Talia said.
Tucker added, “More like oversized ants. Extremely oversized.”
“And there are different varieties,” Talia elaborated. “Six, to be exact. Fire Ant Bursters will charge you and envelop themselves in flame. Sometimes, they explode. Spitters spit a viscous, flammable goo. Drones just swarm, but when they bite, they send fire through your veins.”
“There are also Fire Ant Sentries that are much bigger and stronger than drones,” Tucker said. “And finally, there are the Pyre Ants. They can manipulate fire into great columns of flame that are hot enough to melt steel.”
“You said six,” Zeke stated, already affixing his armor into place. The time it had taken for him to alter his skill had done wonders for the armor, and it was in almost pristine condition. “What was the last one?”
“We probably won’t have to worry about that,” Tucker said. “The Queen’s Guard don’t ever leave the mound. So, unless we’re going after the queen – which is a horrible idea, by the way – we won’t have to deal with them.”
“And say we do want to go for the queen?” Zeke couldn’t stop himself from asking.
“No,” Abby said. “These ants, they’re not hurting anyone. Killing the swarm, that’s fine. Barely. But the queen? No. Just no, Zeke.”
He sighed. “Fine,” he said. “We won’t go for the queen. Not unless we have to.”
“If we get in trouble, we leave,” Abby said. “I want you to promise me, okay? Just…I don’t want to kill another…you know…”
Zeke understood, so he nodded. “We’ll run away if we have to,” he said.
Then, without anymore hesitation, he started laying his skills together. First came [Mark of Companionship] on everyone in the group. It would allow them all to use his skill, [Leech Strike] to varying degrees as well as let them share experience between them all. Then, he used [Avatar of the Beast] on Abby and Talia; anything more than that, and his mana usage would overcome his regeneration. He could add Pudge to it, but for now, he didn’t want to push it too far.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that,” Abby said, rolling her shoulders as they strode forward. “That’s a lot of extra stats.”
Zeke smiled at her, but he didn’t verbalize a response. Instead, he reached out and gripped her hand, giving it a light squeeze. She returned the gesture as they walked toward the looming pillar, which was absolutely covered in skittering ants. As they came closer, Zeke began to understand just how much he’d underestimated the sizes with which they would be dealing. Even the smallest of the creatures, which a quick [Inspection] told him were the Fire Ant Bursters, were the size of ponies, and they only got bigger from there, culminating in the sentries, which topped out at the size of draft horses. And according to Tucker, they were as proportionally strong as ants had been back on Earth, which meant even the runts of the swarm were incredibly dangerous.
They were also, one and all, above level twenty.
“And this is what people call easy grinding fodder?” Zeke asked.
Tucker responded, “Yes. Once you’ve nullified their fire abilities, they’re just dumb beasts. Anyone worth their salt can handle that.”
Zeke shook his head and summoned his mace and shield, and finally, as they crossed some invisible threshold, a small contingent of the ants seemed to notice them. As one, almost a hundred of the things broke off from the mound and charged toward Zeke and his group. Clearing his mind, Zeke cast [Leech Strike] before picking up the pace and leaving the others behind. Talia broke to the right. Pudge, to the left. Tucker and Abby slowed, aiming to stay at a distance.
As they separated, Zeke pulled a vial from his storage, popped the cork, and swallowed the contents. His breath misted, and a slight shiver went up his spine as ice coursed through his veins. Tucker had called it a [Flame Ward Potion], explaining that it utilized ice-infused ingredients to create the antithesis of fire. Zeke didn’t know anything about that, but he did know that he really didn’t like the what the potion made him feel.
That lasted until a step later, a waist-thick gout of flame erupted at his feet, engulfing him in an instant. Without the potion’s protection, Zeke had no doubt that he would’ve been charred to a crisp. However, with it, he only felt slightly warm. Then, he reached the front line of the fire ants, batting a burster aside with a backhand swing. True to its moniker, the monster burst like a water balloon, showering Zeke with viscous liquid that immediately caught fire. He paid it no mind, instead focusing on the noticeable influx of experience that came with the creature’s death. It barely moved the needle, but that was more than any other single kill he’d claimed in the past couple of months.
And so, with anticipation and ice roaring through his veins, Zeke went to work, and the grind began.