In his arms, Everlyn stopped crying.
“Sorry.”
“Why?” Tom squeezed her shoulder. “We’re all screwed up. I spent my first three months stuck in a tunnel.” He clicked a finger absently and a spark lit up. Then he repeated it. “Practicing.”
He lapsed into silence, and so did Everlyn.
“What do you think would have happened if you hadn’t used your fate?”
He looked sideways into those captivating eyes. There was no judgement there, and he broke eye contact. “Honestly.”
“Of course.”
“A few dozen of us probably would have survived. Dig into the shelters and then fight back slowly.”
“Or none,” she said bitterly.
“You’re more of a pessimist than I am.”
“I’m not. You didn’t see how chaotic those first hours were. There was no coordination.”
“No, there was,” Tom interrupted. “When I fried that initial wave, the shelter was almost closed. It was only that last open bit that Toni directed the wasps away from.”
Everlyn laughed. “Nope. There were gaps everywhere for at least an hour after you went down. One person would fix their section and tear somewhere else. It was chaotic. If you weren’t here, it would have all fallen to bits, the insects would have got in with no problems. We would have been overwhelmed. You didn’t see how many of them there were.”
Tom tapped the ground. “Retreat underground.”
She shrugged. “We can agree to disagree. Even now, I’m not sure we survive if we lose you. The shelter might seem solid, but it’s not. A serious attack from a single swarm will tear it to bits.”
He glanced over to the structure, not seeing it. Given what they had to work with, it looked impressive.
She huffed. “Can’t you accept anything in good faith?”
“I can… it’s just.”
“There were at least ten times that I saw a single wasp punching through.” She scratched her head. “You need to remember that these aren’t Earth bugs. They’re all rank one, so they hit hard. You should know that, given your time in the tutorial. If one of them ran into you instead of stinging, they would leave a bruise. With that sort of power, if they bombard the roof, they’ll occasionally breach it. Mainly by tearing holes in the canvas and joints rather than the leather.”
“The most common material.”
“Yep… without your enmity, we were screwed then; and we’d still be screwed now if you left.” She noticed the way he was looking. “Is praise too confronting?”
Tom said nothing, but his cheeks might have been a little red.
“We can talk about something else.”
“Can you keep telling me about your trial?”
“Sure.”
He spent the rest of the afternoon sitting there as a lightning rod while listening to Everlyn chat and charging up his crystal. His simple presence protected the camp behind him. The mana in the crystal reached a hundred. Tom could sense how full it felt; and now that it was charged, there was an extra option if he put more mana in it.
Carefully, he pressed his mana and then transferred another five mana across to it. The crystal started glowing like phosphorus catching alight. The centre of the crystal was too bright to look at, and then the glow faded.
There were curses all around him.
“What the hell?”
“Did you break something, Useless?”
“Warning please.”
Everlyn next to him looked nonplussed. “Did it work?”
Tom held the soul-bound crystal up. It was not hot and appeared to be the same as previously, apart from the fact that all the mana had gone. The energy he had infused over the prior hours combusted to grow its capacity. “Yep. My energy storage is now a hundred and one mana. Up by one.”
“Yay.”
“Try to sound a little excited.”
She laughed. “Why on Earth would I do that? Growing that crystal is going to take a lot of effort, and a single point of mana will hardly make a difference.”
“It’s progress.”
“Not much.”
“True. But if you think about it. This is almost like getting half an attribute point. Do it eight times and you’ve got the equivalent to a level-up in one of the basic classes.”
She patted his arm. “You tell yourself that’s it’s like that.”
“What?”
“One: The mana is only there for a single burst attack. In an attrition-based battle, it’s not even close to being the same as a half an attribute point.”
“How many attrition-based battles have you had?”
He saw her white teeth. “Some,” she teased.
“Not bloody many.”
“Still, the reasoning holds. Also, remember: Classes give you Skills; or failing that, class points.”
“It’s worth something.” Tom grumbled.
If he could get Harry to keep refreshing his charging circle, then he might even increase the minor reservoir to a hundred and three before tomorrow’s fight.
“Why did you choose to buy a mana crystal?” Michael asked him from where he had been sitting in a group with Sven, Thor, Toni, and Clare. “I did the maths and decided it was probably better to put attributes into magic.”
Tom nodded. “It was a close choice, and the straight mana crystals I wouldn’t have bothered with. This one, however, is upgradable to two hundred and fifty-six.”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Everlyn cleared her throat. “Is that a hard limit?”
He looked at her curiously. That was not an obvious question to make unless you had considered buying one. “No,” Tom flipped a crystal over in his hands. “Theoretically, it can increase indefinitely. However, the number of cycles required per extra mana point increases, and the exchange rate to charge the crystal deteriorates. Between two-fifty-six and up to five-twelve, I need to put nine mana in per one stored instead of the current amount. Above that, it goes up to seventeen and then thirty-three.”
“Yeah, I saw that,” Michael agreed. “But there was another complication, wasn’t there? I’m trying to remember what it said, but.” Michael tapped his thigh rapidly as he thought. “It was something about the crystals and the users’ mana pool also needing to be within a certain range.”
Tom grimaced. “That’s right, but it doesn’t become an issue until much later. If I turn this into a thousand mana crystal, my pool needs to be like nine hundred to use it. It sort of lets you match your mana plus a hundred extra.”
“Then why mention two-five-six?” Everlyn asked curiously. “I would have thought that was a little ambitious even for you. You would have to increase your mana by, what is it? Sixty attribute points in that time? Fifteen levels dedicated to magic. Does that seem reasonable? “
Tom went quiet and tapped his temple significantly. “I have a plan.”
They all groaned, Michael the loudest. “You always have a plan.”
“I’m sure you all do, too.” Tom laughed. “The only difference is my one’s working.”
“Ouch.”
Tom rubbed both shoulders. The one that Everlyn had punched was the sorest.
Sven guffawed loudly. “You cheeky bugger. It’s lucky I’m not sitting next to you.”
Tom was watching, and Thor, who was shoulder to shoulder with Sven, lifted his fist and thumped the other guy hard on the bicep.
“Ow! What the hell Thor.”
“Or me.” Thor said with a big grin and a wink at Toni.
“Man!” Sven rubbed his arm vigorously. “Just saying it would have been enough.”
Thor patted the other man on the back. “Totally agree, but nowhere near as fun.”
The entire group laughed. Food was served, which was more bugs, and he received two strips of jerky while the rest got none.
Tom ate unhappily. “If I wasn’t religiously opposed to spending experience on food, I would definitely buy better stuff.”
Everlyn giggled. “I think everyone in this circle agrees with you. But please don’t say that in front of Jeffery.”
Michael groaned. “He almost did that today. He wanted to do a vote to force 50% of everyone’s experience earned to be given to the community. In order to buy, I quote, ‘food and other necessities like firewood’.”
“Very convenient when you’re not generating your own experience.” Everlyn said darkly.
“We stomped on that pretty hard.” Michael admitted. “Though I have to admit there is a push for a collective pool to purchase an auction teleporter plate.”
“I’m happy to contribute to that, provided that, once it’s bought, it’s free use for anyone.” Tom offered. “And everyone puts in equally, in of course.”
“Me too,” Michael agreed. “But not if it’s a tax on the people earning more experience. If all of us give fifteen hundred to cover the cost and then it’s for community use, I’ll support it. A percent cut is not something I’ll ever vote for. People risking their lives shouldn’t be forced to subsidise others.”
“How much backing does he have?” Everlyn asked.
Michael shrugged. “Technically, he has enough votes if a straight democratic vote was sufficient. He understands that if he tried to implement that, then a couple dozen of us would walk away and it would fracture the entire community.”
“At least he’s not a complete idiot.” Everlyn said.
Sven grinned. “You’re being too generous. Not a completely moronic stupid idiot.”
There was laughter all round.
Michael touched his ear meaningfully. “Time for a new topic. We don’t know who is listening.”
He considered objecting because he didn’t care if Jeffery overheard, but then he remembered how unhinged the other man was and that he was at a much higher rank.
Instead of arguing, he added an extra point of mana to his crystal and then lay back and prepared to go to sleep. Tomorrow was going to begin at the crack of dawn, and it would be painful.
Tom slept and woke up with the shelter spread over the top of them. With almost two days to reinforce it, the previously hazardous design had grown to be a single tent that had sleeping space for all seventy-eight survivors.
It was cramped, but safe. Thor was on one side of him, and Sven on his other, spooning him. Annoyed, Tom elbowed himself free and left the tent.
At the entrance, closest to him was the war hammer that Michael had sourced for him. It was comically large, with its head being as thick as his skull and the haft coming up to two-thirds of his height.
Gravity Hammer
This hammer is enhanced to be lighter to wield and carry but to hit with twice the weight as normal.
He opened the tap flap and pulled the hammer along behind him. It was awkward, and the handle got stuck in the fabric.
“Shut the flap,” a woman’s voice he didn’t recognise hissed.
Wasps charged him and electricity flashed, and then he untangled the weapon and dragged it through.
“It’s okay; nothing got through,” he heard a calming male voice.
“I know he saved us, but Useless needs to respect the rules,” she continued unperturbed. “We can’t afford wasps to get through.”
“And none did because Tom was there,” the calming voice reminded her.
“Straight in and out,” she insisted.
People hissed at her to shut up.
“It’s okay,” the calmer voice assured her. “His enmity ensured that no wasp is going to fly past him, and that hammer is to destroy the wasps. He needed to get it out.”
Tom smiled at the last comment. It was good to know he was getting a reputation. There was a hint of colour in the sky, and he wished he still had the night vision he had built up during DEUS’s trial.
Eventually, he would buy that back. It would start at rank one, but he would recover his lost levels far faster than someone taking the skill anew. When he had died, he had almost a thousand questions left over, and teasing out that rule had only taken eight.
“If I repurchase a skill or spell on Existentia that I knew during the trial, will I learn the skills quicker?”
“Yes.”
Tom could remember being surprised at that answer. Then a few moments later, excited. He immediately tried to puzzle out how it could work, based on all the other bits and pieces of lore he had uncovered. The system within Existentia that the DEUS trial mirrored seemed to incorporate principals of diminishing returns. Initial proficiency came quickly, and then it became harder and harder to progress. He guessed any catch-up mechanism would follow the same rules.
“Does the benefit decrease as you increase skill levels?”
“Yes.”
“Is the starting benefit greater than ten times faster?” Greater in this context always meant greater than or equal to; after all, the system liked its whole numbers.
“No.”
“Is the starting benefit greater than five times faster?”
“Yes.”
Then he had considered whether it was worth wasting any further questions. He already had the answer he needed. On Existentia, if he had a choice between a Skill or Spell he had gained mastery of during the trial or a similar ability, then he should always select the trial version. Or should he? The exact percentage at which it started was not that important, especially if it only applied to the first couple of levels. What was crucial was the average gain till he reached the trial mastery. Forty years of grinding and never spending his experience on equipment had given him a lot of skills.
“Is the ending benefit greater than two times faster?”
“Yes.”
“Is the ending benefit greater than three times faster?”
“No.”
Tom remembered frowning at that point thinking that the last question had been a waste. The answer was almost certainly a two, and that was good enough. Starting bonus was five times faster, with the ending two times faster from a decision-making perspective. He didn’t have to ask any more. He had sufficient information. So, he shelved the topic until he had exhausted every strategic line of thinking. Only then, and only if there was capacity, would he indulge in his curiosity.
After spending the last of his contribution points, he had possessed unused questions. His strategy was locked in, and he could not think of anything else useful to ask, apart from ones that would clarify the specifics of rules but would not change his behaviour.
His mind had turned back to the reacquisition of Skills and Spells question.
“Does the learning boost of ‘Spells or Skills’ decay evenly?”
“Yes.”
“Is the starting benefit greater than six?”
“No.”
That had been enough. He was confident he now understood how long it would take to reacquire the Skills and Spells repurchased within Existentia. Yes, they would start at one, but getting up to his original skill would require less than a third as long as it would for everyone else. Better still, there was an initial bias toward faster early learning.
Worry about enhancing your eyesight later, he thought to himself. For now, he had another title to obtain.
Tom put his hands around the haft and lifted it to his shoulders. The war hammer, which was basically a large sledgehammer, weighed about forty kilograms. It felt almost too heavy to move, which was what he wanted. Even the simple act of placing it on his shoulder had caused his muscles to protest, and the finer capillaries under the skin upon which it rested had burst. In simple terms, if he didn’t have Touch Heal, there would be minor bruising.
And he had to hit things with it.
It was going to be painful
Tom strode forward happily. It was time to get another title.