Chapter 132: The Ghost Reef Reunion (Patreon)

Coop launched a heavy spear into the air and counted silently while it flew toward the sky, shrinking with the distance until it seemed like nothing more than a matchstick. He had already returned to the Primal Kite grind, happy to keep it going now that he had a decent way to hunt the monsters. After Balor bailed on his tour, he had the rest of the day free, so he settled onto the sandbar when it was still early in the afternoon. This time, he only had an audience of one human observing his throws.

“Hm. That one was far too long.” Jones pointed out from a half submerged lounge chair, taking the role of judge from the pair of girls. Despite living on a tropical island, it was the first time Coop had seen the old man get his feet wet.

“I know, I couldn’t help myself that time.” Coop admitted. It was hard to find the right balance of arc and weight with all of the varying distances, and sometimes he just wanted to let it rip. Finesse wasn’t exactly Coop’s primary focus. Most of the time he was forcing himself to be as strong or as fast as possible to match up with ever increasing threats. It was a weakness that Ledwidge had already identified for him. "It was still pretty close.” He argued, knowing that he could have launched the spear even higher if he let himself.

Charlie and Camila were busy with other tasks, and couldn’t lend their expert eyes and fastidious scoring criteria to Coop’s grind. Jones’s patient and much gentler guidance was filling the absence. The girls were busy recruiting for the faction. Camila was given the job of reviewing applications as the first member, after Coop had promoted her to an Officer position. Her first order of business was recruiting Elder Olani to be the sleuth that the old gossip was born to be.

The faction had default ranks to begin with, including Chosen, but that was reserved for sponsorships. The ones who were joining were simply Initiates for a trial period until they became Members. Coop was the Founder. The ranks could be changed, with roles designated and responsibilities altered, but they would worry about that before the real faction was formed. Every few minutes, Coop received a notification letting him know that another of their residents had become an Initiate of The Lighthouse. It seemed like everyone who was factionless was finding an official home, in the eyes of the system. They were welcome to stay factionless residents of Ghost Reef if they so desired.

The old man had joined Coop in the shallows, planning on catching up on all the details of the happenings around the island chain while he was in his curse induced coma. The fort’s guided tour was temporarily put on hold until Balor was ready for it to resume, but Jones only needed a passing glance to see what the problems were. The senior caretaker was much more optimistic about the fort’s prognosis when compared to the alien contractor.

Coop cast Legacy of the Mists and a shirtless spearman with a smooth conical helmet leapt from the mists a quarter of a mile in the distance, near the edge of his Fog of War domain, demolishing a Primal Kite when it attempted to ambush the intruder. Sand and water cascaded around the phantom as it assessed the damage.

“Sumerian.” Jones observed, somehow recognizing the equipment of the spearman, even in the distant shallows, like the old archaeologist was participating in some kind of gameshow. The spearman disappeared while Coop’s heavy ethereal spear solidified in his hand after wrecking his own target.

An agitated meow brought Jones’s attention back to Jett, who was cradled in his lap, waiting for the pets that had paused when he spotted another historical phantasm.

“Whoops, sorry little lady.” Jones apologized kindly as he rubbed his finger and thumb in front of both her ears. She shut her eyes in contentment, flattening her ears to help him reach the best spots. The real island reunion had finally taken place when the senior lighthouse keeper noticed her peer walking through the settlement. It still boggled Coop’s mind that the pair had been on the island for something like 25 years together.

“Are you sure I don’t need to join the faction?” Jones reiterated, not for the first time. He was still a member of Collegia Universal, his original sponsor.

“You heard the lady. It’s all about the territory and the mana inside it.” Coop threw his spear again, targeting a Kite that had spawned a bit closer to the center of the sand bar. He grunted with the effort of trying to get the perfect arc, enough strength to launch the heavy weapon, but not too much to overdo it.

After Coop’s spear throw, he watched it while he continued sharing his theories. “I think the idea is that we expand our territory as much as possible, creating a buffer between our shelter and the Icons of Mana and their armies or whatever. Then, hopefully, we hold out long enough for these exiles to extract us after the planetary shield goes away at the end of the assimilation period. We’ll have failed mana’s assessment, but survived.”

“I think I’ll join anyway.” Jones decided, not so confident in the Avatar. “I don’t like how little guidance they give. The orientation was so much more efficient, freely giving the information and advice they had available. It may have been unreliable, but at least it was honest.”

Coop shrugged. “I doubt all the factions were as forthcoming.” Coop pointed out, feeling like Collegia Universal was certainly one of the better factions in that sense. “Considering the chaos it would create if they articulated the dangers to everyone, I think I sorta get it. Imagine a planet-wide, life or death, game of king of the hill inside our settlement.” He shuddered at the idea. “Everyone would want to stake out positions as close to the shard as possible. It’s definitely better if we have a chance to move on our own terms.”

“I got the impression that they either have no intention, or lack the capacity to actually rescue many survivors.” Jones noted, further fueling the nightmare scenario that Coop was envisioning. That would only amplify the desperation people would feel to stake a claim inside their territory.

At this point, he thought the limitations Lyriel had revealed were a function of the exiles’ limited resources. Jones seemed to be approaching a similar conclusion, but one that was even more extreme that what Coop envisioned.

As the heavy ethereal spear slammed into another Primal Kite, Coop glanced back at Jones. “What makes you think that?”

“Hmm..” Jones hummed, as if he wondered why himself. “I suppose it’s the way their faction relays their message, the deceptions, and the particularities necessary to initiate contact in the first place. It all reeks of desperation. They’re only seeking out specific groups of standouts who were able to defeat an Icon of Mana, and defeat it blind to the threat it represents.” He paused for a moment as he rubbed Jett’s chin before he resumed his thought. “I doubt anyone on Earth would have received a warning if you hadn’t been able to defeat the first Icon. They would have left us to die. Help is only for those that can help them.”

“I just thought she was shady.” Coop admitted, not having articulated anything beyond his instinctive impression. Even with all the different voices around the settlement, he hadn’t heard anyone articulate the same thoughts as Jones, though no one else had the additional context provided by witnessing the second visit. “I’m glad you’re back old man.”

Jones chuckled. “Glad to be back.”

“So what’s with the Cursed title?” Coop decided it was time to address some of the elephants on the island.

“Ah,” Jones hesitated as he reread the description. “The title was rewarded for resisting a potent curse. It claims to increase my resistance to future curses while granting me some of the left over power of the one I overcame. I assume that’s where the extra levels came from.” He looked up at Coop, appraising him. “I guess I should have known you’d be able to read auras like that by now, it just feels like I wasn’t gone for very long. One minute I was touring the fort and the next I was staring into a bright light, strapped to a gurney.”

“You didn’t dream or anything?” Coop wondered, imagining how jarring it would be to find himself in the same situation, and admittedly, considering if it would be worth it for a swing at another title.

“Nothing. It was like I blinked and it all happened.” He chuckled at himself causing Jett to watch his hand to make sure he didn’t start slacking. “Maybe not a blink. More like a cat nap.”

Coop threw another spear, still waiting for his mana to recover enough to summon another Legacy of the Mists phantasm. “And the bloodstone human thing?”

“I have no idea.” Jones confessed. “The system isn’t quite so helpful in distributing information when you want it. My status doesn’t have any obvious changes, though I have the physical ones as proof that something happened.” He elevated his forearm, with the red stripes climbing toward his rolled-up  sleeves. “I did appear to have some sort of new, enhanced connection to the fort, like I could actually detect the mana flowing through the stones, but I’ll need some time to explore those feelings. I’m assuming the changes will influence my future skill choices at the very least.” Jones returned his full attention to Jett while Coop resummoned his spear and threw it again.

“Speaking of which,” Jones continued, as if he remembered something important. “I didn’t get to choose anything for reaching level 25. I suppose the affinity and racial evolution were the result, but it seems strange that I had no control. I feel like I was robbed of a skill.”

Coop frowned at the revelation. He knew Jones was lower level before the events with Kevin the Hammer’s crew, but he couldn’t remember exactly where the caretaker had ended up. All the talk of mana mutants and Icons made him uneasy about outside factors manipulating them.

“Are you still on the human leaderboards?” Coop considered the other ramifications of Jones’s evolution by relating them to what he paid the most attention to. “The phantoms are Spectral Humans, but they don’t appear on there at all.”

Jones took a second to check, raising his eyebrows as he was apparently surprised by what he saw. “I am indeed. I see you’ve been busier than I expected as well. What in the world have you been up to? You’re more than 40 levels ahead of our diligent Charlie!” He shook his head. “Not to mention the rest of the planet.”

Coop shrugged as he resummoned his spear, going through the motions like an automaton designed to grind. “A little of this, and a little of that.” He stated as he threw his conjured weapon into the air. When the spear landed, he cast Legacy of the Mists, having recovered the rest of the mana necessary with his Reaper title’s ‘on kill’ recovery.

“I can see that.” Jones accepted the response with an eyebrow raised.

“I suppose you don’t switch between leaderboards, even if you have a racial evolution.” Coop idly observed.

The trio continued as they were for some time, with Coop grinding and Jett receiving enough attention from Jones to keep her satisfied. Eventually, Coop swapped in for Jones, petting Jett and keeping her out of the water so that the old man could try his hand at defeating a Primal Kite.

“To your left, about 25 yards out.” Coop guided him with Jett held over his shoulder. “A little more left.” He had Jones adjust.

When the Primal Kite erupted from its ambush spot, a boulder grew from Jones’s outstretched hand and hurtled through the air until it smashed into the monster’s metallic body. The boulder demolished the metallic scales and continued until it splashed into the water another 20 yards in the distance, barely losing momentum after colliding with the Kite. A trail of the monster’s mana smoke lingered like a vapor trail chasing a miniaturized meteor.

“Oh, wow!” Jones seemed impressed with his own ability, appraising his hands as if he saw them in a new light.

“What happened?” Coop asked, excited to learn about new skills, even if they weren’t his own.

Jones was all smiles as he returned to the lounge chair, reclaiming Jett before he started explaining. “Well, it seems like I’ll need to adjust my future stat distribution.”

Coop was on pins and needles, as he waited for the reasoning. Was it a stat conversion? “Really? Why? Is it something amazing?” He was considering so many different possibilities.

“First of all, my spell formed the projectile significantly faster than it should have. I was planning on firing a simple bullet, not a boulder. Second, it didn’t cost any mana at all, but it cost my life instead. And finally, when my spell dealt damage, I immediately recovered a portion of the damage as health.” Jones explained before pausing as he reconsidered everything he had observed with the single attack. “I believe the damage was amplified as well.” He concluded.

Coop nodded along, already planning how he would incorporate such abilities into his own build, not that he had the option. “Life leech and spell amplification? I’m actually so jealous. We’re gonna need to have you power leveled. I’m gonna put Shane’s party on it, they’ll have you hunting shrimp in the mana well in no time.”

Jones still wasn’t that enthusiastic about leveling, preferring to focus on his archaeology profession, but given the state of the fort, he probably recognized the necessity for the members of Ghost Reef to prepare themselves as much as possible. “I suppose that I’ll go along. I believe I can help repair the fort as well.”

“Aw, it’s like I’m witnessing the birth of another powerhouse, but don’t overdo it.” Coop warned as he aimed another spear. The grind couldn’t stop for too long. He’d only received one profession level during the day’s session.

“I’ve been doing it since before you were born.” Jones pointed out, reminding Coop which caretaker was senior.

Hours went by with Coop defeating Primal Kites with aerial bombardments while Jones exhausted his curiosity regarding the islands. Balor and Charlie had been ready to explain the state of the fort and the events surrounding it, but Coop was the one that could tell him about the island itself.

“The burrowing owls moved into the sand that collected on the northwestern wall.” Coop explained.

“Maybe it’s good that the work orders to remove the debris from the walls were never approved.” Jones admitted.

Coop shrugged as he watched a spear land with an enormous splash, but minimal sand disturbance from a new spin he was experimenting with. “I thought they would move back to the dunes by now, but they seem happy up there. I think they might have managed to dig into the actual fort though. Pretty sure the sand filtration system will be compromised at least.” Coop continued. “The pigs also seem satisfied to swim around in the moat and wallow in the western canal instead of returning to their island.”

“I can’t believe the size of that one, you called him the Eater of Worlds?” Jones asked, putting some respect on the pig’s title.

“He’s a strong fighter too. Honestly, most of the animals that rose to prominence seem crazy. I mean, look at Jett; she could probably still whip me into shape if she wanted to.” Coop paused his next throw to glance at the cat, making sure he was still on her good side.

“I saw her paw print.” Jones chuckled. “What has Coop been feeding you?” He cooed at the cat.

Coop shook his head and threw his spear. “There’s also the bat colony that was established in the northern wall. I had no idea there were so many, but they haven't come back, and I dunno what to do about it.” Coop was bothered with problems that fell more into his responsibilities as junior caretaker than Champion.

“I’ll take care of it,” Jones promised, “I can try out my new powers while I fix up a real roost for them.” He nodded to himself as he made his own plans. “Yes, there will be a proper bat cave when the repairs are complete. I’ll even set something up so our giant friend will have an easier time coming and going.”

“Don’t tell Balor.” Coop warned. “He’ll be extremely upset if the fort isn’t returned to its pre-mana glory.”

“Don’t worry about our friend, a few mugs of Desmond’s beer and I’ll have him fully on board.” Jones guaranteed.

Coop continued regaling Jones with the efforts they had taken to rehabilitate the beaches, dunes, and scrubland. Jones confessed that it already looked healthier than before. If they hadn’t explained to him the battles that had taken place, he wouldn’t have guessed any harm had come to the dunes. Of course, the fort still bore the scars that proved the stories weren’t fabricated.

“Where does all of that leave me? Should I work as one of Balor’s laborers?” Jones wondered.

“Whatever you want. I’ll still make you Viceroy.” Coop promised.

“No, no, I think your first advisor will be better for that role.” Jones firmly declined. “It sounds like that position will have a lot more to worry about than one forgotten old fort.”

“I’ll put you back to work whether you like it or not. You can be some kind of domestic advisor. We can even kick out the bird mayor if he doesn’t like it.” Coop stated. “Every resident already knows it's your house, I’m sure I’ve reminded them a thousand times already. And you’ll love the phantoms, they’ll be able to answer questions you probably never thought you’d have answered.”

“Is that so?” Jones asked with a smile on his face.

“They all have one thing in common with you.”

“This better not be a way for you to call me old.”

“No, old man, they’re all connected to Ghost Reef, like you.”