Solomon's Crucible 21. A Simple Plan (Patreon)

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Solomon learned a few things once he turned his efforts towards digging. First, trying to use a shovel with one hand was unbearably awkward. He took a break from digging and liberated some metal from his shield so that he could cobble together a hook and slot system that would let him use the shovel with his left arm together with his right. Second, the Enhanced Endurance ability that he had picked up didn't only apply in death-defying fights.

Once he got into the rhythm of the work, he just kept going. Sure, he'd rather have been using a backhoe—he'd have given his left hand for it, if he'd ever managed to get the thing out from under the rock—but the ability to work for hours on end meant that he finished up his self-appointed tasks much sooner than he'd expected. No doubt his investment in Strength and Constitution were paying off there, as well.

He finished up just in time to watch the timer tick under 12:00:00. Half of the day-long grace period was over. He would have liked to be past the dungeon's first floor by now, but as game-like as the system could be, there had been no hint that any extra lives were waiting in the wings should he end up as lion food. As it was, he wasn't completely confident in his plans, but he was at least giving himself a chance to get away if things went wrong.

Really, as far as game-like trappings went, what he could really use was a strategy guide. Not so much for lion-hunting tips, though those would be welcome, but more so that he had some idea of how well he was doing and how he should pace himself. Sure, he knew going quicker was better, and he was pretty sure something bad would happen when the timer expired, but that was some pretty vague guidance when his life was on the line.

Was he racing ahead, setting a blistering pace by taking too many risks like a suicidal moron? Was he falling behind, taking too many precautions to keep up with the imaginary pack? How much time should he take to clear the first floor, if he wanted to finish the whole dungeon within a day? For that matter, how many floors were in the dungeon? As much as he wanted to make plans and rely on his intellect to triumph over the insanely aggressive dungeon monsters, it was impossible to put together any kind of long term strategy when he was just fumbling around in the dark.

Solomon shook his head. All he could do was keep moving forward and try not to die. It had been working so far.

If he was perfectly honest with himself, part of the reason he was dwelling on the unfairness of the system was because he didn't want to think too hard about what he was about to do. Even with all his preparations, he was about to put his life at risk, probably the most risk he'd faced since the system showed up. This time, too, he wasn't stumbling into it. No, he was deliberately jumping in, eyes wide open.

First things first. As much as he'd wanted to hoard a giant mass of Grid Points, keeping more than a full grid's worth of points in his pocket was far too extravagant, especially when he could see abilities right in front of him that would help to keep him alive.

With a sigh, Solomon spent nine points finishing out the Duelist grid. He put three of the resulting attribute points into Dexterity, and one into Constitution. After all, this was about survival.

[Name: Solomon Gragg

Skills: Pain Tolerance (MAX), Improvised Weapons Mastery (4), Bladed Weapons Mastery (5)

Grids: Tutorial (6/6)
Field Engineering (7/7), Personal Equipment (9/9), Weapons (11/11), Projectile Weapons (13/13), Firearms (15/15)
Bladed Weapons (7/7), Duelist (9/9)

Free grid points: 9

Strength: 19
Constitution: 20
Dexterity: 20
M. Capacity: 5
M. Intensity: 10

Free attribute points: 0

HP: 200/200
MP: 50/50]

In the long run, he hoped that the Duelist path would synergize well with his future in gunnery, as both should benefit from more Dexterity. As much as he'd gotten by with brute force so far, he didn't want to make it a core part of his build. In the short term, the appeal of the Duelist grid came from the abilities it gave him: Keen Eye and Dash.

Keen Eye was, like Enhanced Endurance, a passive ability. It improved his eyesight a bit, and supposedly would give him an advantage in spotting weak points.

Dash was an active ability like Power Strike. At a cost of 10 MP he could summon forth a temporary burst of speed. It was an ability that would be getting a workout in a minute.

Solomon shook out his hand and jumped around a bit, trying to limber himself up. Just testing his range of motion, it was hard to say that the points in Dexterity had done much. According to the system he should be, if his math was right, about twenty percent more dexterous than before. Could he stretch a little farther than before? Maybe. He hadn't exactly made a habit of testing his range of motion every day. He could only hope that the boost to his overall coordination would keep him from stumbling at an inopportune moment.

He gave himself a final once over. He had stashed his shield, spear, and even the hatchet away in a safe location. For what was coming up, he couldn't afford to have anything weighing him down and he certainly couldn't risk carrying anything that might trip him up. His left arm felt a little naked without the shield. He'd gotten used to the comforting weight of it. Now the arm felt light, only bearing a hook in place of his hand.

Otherwise, he was still wearing the clothes he had bought from Mort. In his right hand he carried a rock about the size of a baseball. He tossed it up in the air a few times, testing its weight. Both the toss and catch were smooth and easy, perhaps a benefit from the boost in his Dexterity.

He was equipped. Now all he had to do was grit his teeth and go through with the plan. He wasn't exactly excited about it, but the clock was ticking, and he hadn't come up with anything better.

Squaring his shoulders, Solomon stepped forward, boldly entering the dungeon's central clearing. The lions were all still at rest, paying him no mind. Well, that wouldn't last long.

Taking a firm grip on the rock, he reared back and let fly.

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