The system room was around him. Utilitarian and empty, and Tom could not help but release a euphoric sigh. There was no pain in here, and every single one of his muscles worked. He jogged on the spot and chuckled softly to himself. He remembered after the second day of mushrooms retreating into this place to avoid the agonising cramps they had caused. Then later, when he got badly injured, that behaviour became a trap. Hours huddled away from the pain when instead he should have been listening to it and actively treating it.
He had sworn not to get addicted to this place, especially not for pain management purposes. Today was why. Being familiar with suffering had let him concentrate despite its insidious, distracting nature. That discipline had kept him alive.
“Summary Logs.” Ranking Points: 175 Position on human ranking ladder: 18 Experience: 8913
Tom froze.
Those numbers were wrong.
The insects were ten experience each with diminishing returns. He might have killed a few hundred with that first lightning storm, which at most, would have only given him a couple of thousand experience. That left a significant amount unexplained. Even if he was getting partial credit for every insect killed, that meant over two thousand insects had been eliminated.
He was not sure that was possible.
Plus, there were those ranking points and the fact he was eighteenth on the human ladder. For just lying there trying not to die, that was an awful high ranking to have achieved.
Something else had happened.
He opened his eyes his throat still parched. “Water.”
Some more was dribbled down it.
Tom swallowed. “Harry.”
“I’m here. Tom.”
“Experience?”
“Three thousand.” He sounded proud of himself.
“How?”
“How? Partial kills for those caught in the trap. From what we can tell, you were getting two or three points per kill for being the insect magnet. I would get four and five and who ever physically killed them between two and four.”
“Thank you.”
Tom returned to the system space. Mathematics was not his best subject, but he should have only been a couple thousand higher than Harry. There was unexplained experience.
“Logs.”
They scrolled on the wall.
“Off.”
They disappeared. He was not going through thousands of entries that all showed two or three experience points.
There was a question available to ask Dux, but he was not wasting that.
“Status.”
Class: None
Attributes
Strength: 37
Agility: 48
Vitality: 45 (+ 9 natural vitality)
Magic Mana: 12 (+2 natural mana)
Mana Pool: Mana * 2 = 24
Fate: 97
Tom gasped.
His eyes widened as his mind absorbed what he was reading.
Eleven natural attribute points!
That was almost three basic levels worth.
He narrowed in on the vitality line, and he remembered his requirements for when he spent fate.
He wanted it to be something useful to him. A way for him to prove his spot in the group and hopefully provide an impetus to get the class he was after. And then the most important aspect. Whatever was in there had to be something their community could survive against.
An impetus to get the class he was after; those were his words, and Fate had worked. That agony, that pain, that torment was what he had wanted. His chuckling turned bitter. He had brought that on himself, but vitality was one of the two attributes he needed to raise naturally by twenty to be awarded the class he was targeting. Both strength and vitality; and the second could only involve suffering — and strength, also, only by suffering, but of a different sort. Natural points of vitality were a pain to acquire. The only way to get them was from the body getting damaged, bones, skin, muscles, poison, acid, magic. The method did not matter, only the outcome.
While he might wonder if the effort was worth eleven points in less than half a day, it was a massive windfall in anyone’s perception. Attributes grew through use, and the lower they were, the faster they could grow. His vitality had started ridiculously low to take advantage of that fact. A gamble on the team around him being able to protect him long enough to come into his own.
He snorted to himself.
Well, that never happened. Instead, Tom was the one looking after them. Little old, “Useless” me. Jeffrey, Tom decided, was a true idiot.
Nine points in vitality at the cost of half a day with poisons running rampant through him, tearing his insides apart so fast that not even his incredibly efficient Touch Heal had kept up with the healing. When expressed that way, he shouldn’t have been surprised at the jump, even if he knew exactly how envious his performance would have made everyone else. The boost to magic was also not as impressive, and it had only benefited by how low his magic attribute was. If his starting magic attribute had been forty, then he doubted he would have gotten a single point there, despite spending twelve hours with his mana in single digits. Nevertheless, an effective boost of his magic reserves of twenty percent was a huge gain on the first day. Most of his capacity to contribute currently was mana-based. That meant these natural points made him literally ten percent more useful. Helpful, yes, but considering how far below the others he had started there, was a long road ahead to match and exceed those who had focused on immediate power.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Strength would be his next target to improve, and Tom had a cheat for that. Back on Earth, if someone wanted to increase their muscles, they would hit the gym. Exercise until they hurt and then repeat once they recovered. Existentia, despite its magical overlay, was not different in that respect. Heavy work could still grow his strength attribute, but unlike on Earth, when he started there was no reason to stop training. He could strain the body and then heal. Instead of being able to train for an hour every day or two depending on how hard he went, he could go continuously. All that required was will, and that was not something Tom lacked.
Tom looked at his attributes. Only strength, vitality, and agility went into the calculation of rank, and that meant he was officially no longer a rank three. It meant nothing of course, as it was not like being formally a four would blunt Jeffrey’s disdain. The man was a small-minded bully and was incapable of seeing the broader picture. It was not as if attributes were everything; if anyone attacked him, they would be in for a shock.
His eyes dropped to the next line on his status sheet.
Spells
Spark: 132 (tier 0)
Touch Heal: (93) (+1) (tier 0)
Summoner: (23) (tier 1)
Skills
Elemental Whisper: 35 (tier 1)
Pact Master: 21 (tier 2)
Burst Cast: 61 (tier 0)
Plane Sense: 23 (tier 2)
No genuine surprises.
He had done nothing that should have affected his spells and skills apart from Touch Heal, and it advancing a point was a pleasant surprise. The higher the level, the harder the spells became to grind, but ten hours continuously purging venom —something he had not done a lot during the trial -- had been sufficient to get the boost.
Internally, he smiled at the levels he had advanced his skills. Unlike the Tiers, skills or spell proficiency did not cost contribution points. The cost to bring Touch Heal: (1) and Touch Heal: (92) had been identical, but the differences between a skill level of ninety-two and one were immense.
The magnitude of the difference would, of course, depend on how the heal was used, but it was anywhere between three and ten times more powerful. For basic cuts, the variation was a little over three times, but the more complicated the injury, then the greater the boost received from higher skill levels.
Spark was the same story. Zap, the evolved version of Spark, was a Tier 1 spell instead of Tier 0, and the contribution points required to bring Zap through were four times that of Spark. Higher-tier spells were stronger, but when you evolved Spark (132) you ended up with Zap (66). And while Zap (66) was a little more powerful than Spark (132), you were only talking fifty percent stronger, not four times. All his choices were based on contribution points per power brought over. Which was why he kept his skills at tier zero.
As for the other skills, except for Burst Cast, he did not have the mana to utilise any of them, and they had been purchased not for their high levels, but because they were prerequisites for the second class that he was aiming for.
Who was he kidding? The levels he had grinded them to had made it a straightforward choice to keep them. An increase of a tier more than doubled the effectiveness of a spell or ability. Doubling a spell level was not quite that extreme, but it was significant. Spark (132) was at least as damaging as a tier three spell and almost certainly far more versatile. Given that a basic tier three spell would have cost over sixty times his Spark spell, Tom was more than happy with his decision not to have evolved his spells during the DEUS tutorial.
The screen flicked to the next part of his status.
Traits
Free Class Slot: Can be used for any class for which you possess the requirements. Experience cost of class must be paid.
Epic Soul Space: Perfect stasis, weight cancellation. 2 slots plus 1 per level. 0.2 cubic metres volume plus an additional 0.05 cubic metres per level.
Fates Agility: Gains 2 Agility and 2 Fate per level at the cost of 2 attribute points per class level. Attribute points are subtracted from free attribute points, Fate, Agility, and then Magic in that order. There is no cost to trait if these attributes are not available for the class level-up.
Child of Elements: All elements and sub-elemental power increased by 50%.
DEUS’s Chosen: Once every eight days, you may ask Dux a question. The answer will only be yes or no, and up to sixteen questions can be banked.
Tom smiled when he looked at those traits. They were the reason he did not have shoes. They had been expensive, but they were the basis of his entire plan. The Class Slot and Fates Agility were the linchpins. Particularly, Fates Agility with a class that only awarded Strength and Vitality (i.e., a tanking class) the number of attributes he received per level doubled. That was material.
Finally, he checked the screen that he knew had to be responsible for the unexplained ranking points and experience. Titles — the one thing that contribution points could not be spent to bring across from DEUS’s trial.
Titles:
Vitality Fount: Receive an additional point of vitality per level. Awarded for: Gaining twenty-five percent of your vitality pool in a single day via natural means. Epic Title. Competition Rank: 1st, 100 Ranking points, 2000 experience.
Venom Resistance (V): 25% chance to gain instant immunity the first time you are exposed to a new venom. All venoms do 25% less damage. Awarded for: Being inflicted with sufficient venom to kill you five hundred and twelve times in a single day and surviving. Rare Title. Competition Rank: 2nd, 50 Ranking points, 1000 experience.
Healing Sponge (III): Healing spells are 30% more effective when cast upon you. Awarded for: Being healed for a hundred and twenty-eight times your vitality in a single day. Rare Title. Competition Rank: 93rd - 25 Ranking points, 500 experience.
Tom read them.
When he had seen the ranking points and the experience discrepancy, this was what he had been expecting. Between all of them, he had received 175 ranking points and 3500 experience.
It was a gold mine.
There was nowhere near enough data to unravel the system fully, but there were at least two title types, Rare and Epic; but if those were there, he was sure there would be legendary and mythical tiers, as well. Uncommon? Maybe, but the uncommon titles were unlikely to give much and were probably not worth worrying about. As he understood it, the common and uncommon were titles you would accumulate naturally and everyone, no matter how bog ordinary they were, would be awarded them.
Beyond the mechanics of the situation, there were some other learnings he could take from the numbers. Astonishingly, someone else had been inflicted with even more venom than him, and over ninety other people had received more healing than he had. Upon reflection, he guessed it was not that surprising when you were talking about a population of millions of people.
Then if he compared the two rare titles, being second as opposed to ninety-third doubled his award. Titles were powerful, but not something you could actively chase. GODs did not like that.
Tom kept reading.
Enmity:
Trodaga Wasps (V): All Trodaga wasps within 32 measures (41 metres) will target you unless specifically aggroed with a skill. All damage you deal is 32% more against them and the effects of their damage and venom are reduced by 32%. This enmity has been created with sub species 19,723. The further away from this subspecies of Trodaga Wasps, the less impact your Enmity will have.
The Enmity was not that much of a surprise. Once he had heard that he was acting as a lightning rod, he had been expecting it. After all, they had damaged him a lot, and he had killed them. It would be naïve to expect the system to not to register those interactions and reward enmity. He was surprised at how high it had risen. A level of five was impressive, and already, just being near the shelter pretty much guaranteed everyone else was safe.
While the gamer in him wanted to upgrade that enmity title to six, the pragmatist recoiled. While the improved damage and increased resistance would be welcome, attracting all insects within eighty metres of him might be more than he could handle.
“Fuck it,” he whispered. Some things were not worth worrying about. If enmity rose, he would deal with it.
Knowing the system, it bloody well would, which meant he would have to keep healers nearby to stop himself from being overwhelmed when it ticked up, as mathematically that would cause almost four times the number of bugs swarming him at least initially.
Tom opened his eyes. He needed to know what else had happened.