The entire group focused on Sven, and Tom was happy for the subject to be changed. He sort of regretted on missing out on a powerful fate skill. Fate spikes when in combat sounded awesome. If he had noticed the ability, Tom would have bought it, probably at the expense of his spatial storage.
Tom shook his head and studied the team that Jeffrey had assigned him to. They gave him the impression of Revenge of the Nerds.
Sven smiled good-naturedly at them all. “I think it’ll be a great idea to go around the group and introduce ourselves and our skills.” Sven waited a moment while everyone indicated they agreed with that approach. “If you missed it earlier. Sven.” He tapped his chest. “I’m a melee fighter with a couple of weak earth skills. My fighting style is to use my earth control to disrupt my opponent’s movements and then take advantage of any stumbles.”
Tom was impressed with that description. It sounded like a technique that would have serious synergy with a skill that threw fate points around in the middle of combat. As Tom had just experienced getting hit with fate spike when standing on treacherous ground could end badly. He had slipped while walking along the ground. Having that happen in battle was terrifying.
“What spells?” the pretty girl who had been number four asked.
“I have three. Basic Earth Manipulation, Earth Grab and Slippery Patch.”
“Tiers?” she asked happily.
“Earth Grab is one and the other two zeroes.” He paused for a moment to see if she was going to ask anything more, and then nodded when there were no more questions forthcoming. “Next.” He pointed to his left, which meant introductions were going clockwise and Tom would be last.
“Andros.” The poor kid looked flustered. “I want to be a healer.” He frowned. “I didn’t have sufficient contribution points, and because I knew I was ending up in a large group, I chose niche skills. Instead of straight healing, I purchased stabilising spells, sort of like magical first aid. Beyond that, I’m like Sven as I’m a bit of a spell sword. My Humanoid Physiology Skill lets me know where to cut to kill humanoids, but also works to highlight weaknesses in other monsters, though not as effectively. I also have a spell called Surgeon Slash. It’s a dual healing and damage skill that is designed to remove poisoned and diseased flesh but can open an artery just as easily.” He smiled, looking pleased with himself. “Against the right opponent, the combination is devastating.”
He automatically looked over at the auburn-haired girl, but she had no questions for him, unlike the grilling she had given Sven.
The next in line was a big guy with shoulder-length hair, a clean-cut face who wielded a heavy hammer. He was good-looking, with a charismatic presence and haunted eyes. “I’m Thor.” He hesitated, and more than a few people took in his name and appearance. That was a deliberate choice if Tom had ever seen one. “I got assigned here as an aggroer, but I’m not really. I have no way to force monsters to fight me, but I’m a vitality- and strength-based fighter, and Jeffrey thought I would be the best tank available. He said that I can act in the aggroers’ role and once I get some experience, that I have to buy a taunting skill or class.”
Thor did not look pleased with the idea, and Tom couldn’t blame him. Getting hurt was painful, and given Thor’s rank of high seven, he had probably invested heavily in a couple of exotic skills that would take advantage of his attribute mix; and like he had said, his attributes were heavily biased to strength and vitality as he only had a three in magic and a four in agility.
Sven slapped Thor on the shoulder. “How the hell have you not combined Shocking Touch or Lightning Weapon with your build?”
“I did in the trial,” Thor said positively beaming. “But I had so few contribution points I couldn’t afford to bring them here.”
Sven laughed at that. “Didn’t we all. You actually don’t need to cast the spell yourself, if you’re leaning into the lore. Instead, get a lightning enchant on the hammer and let it create the effect.”
“I was thinking a dual weight enhancement and…”
“Guys,” Number four interrupted Thor quickly. “We can perfect our cosplay later.”
“That’s not what we’re doing.” Sven protested.
She arched an eyebrow, and he stopped talking.
“Well yeah. That’s exactly what we were doing… umm.” Sven looked slightly flustered for a moment. “But in my defence, having our own Thor will be awesome.”
The girl raised both eyebrows.
Sven shut up.
“I’m Everlyn,” she said. “I’m a scout.”
“Without a bow or throwing daggers,” Andros observed.
“I can use them,” she said defensively. “I couldn’t afford any of the weapon supporting skills or the weapons to be honest.”
“You could have downgraded that leather armour and got a bow,” Sven pointed out probably annoyed at the whole cosplay thing.
She shrugged. “Wasn’t a priority. I’ll kill but I don’t like it.”
Sven crinkled nose in disgust at the statement. “That’s stupid.”
Zap.
The other man jumped and looked at Tom in annoyance.
Tom smiled innocently, and he saw Sven throw a look between him and Everlyn. He decided not to push things.
“What can you do?” Tom asked interested in her build. She must have had a heap of contribution points and she hadn’t put it into anything that he could see.
“Oh. I have great stealth. That’s personal skill as opposed to System Skill.”
Those words triggered something in Tom and between one instant, and the next he was back in DEUS’s trial remembering his past.
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The horned bunnies were yesterday’s problem, and now his focus was on the quest. The quest was simple: Assassinate the Goblin Chieftain.
That was it. There were no other details to help him, just that overarching aim. Tom wanted nothing more than to walk away, but that was not possible. He had promised to do his best, and that was exactly what he intended to do. Both today and for the entire trial, and the most important resource was his Dux questions, which he used to guide everything.
His questioning had told him not to upgrade Spark. “Will evolving the Spark spell increase the average ranking points I can earn in Existentia?”
Dux had smiled at him with her angelic smile that still made his heart beat faster, even though he knew she was not real. Those naturally red lips, the gorgeous skin, large eyes which did not rely on makeup to enhance them. He had a crush, and there was nothing he could do about it.
“No.”
The answer had surprised Tom, but he accepted it, and so Spark remained unevolved, which brought him back to this moment as he lay on the ground on the top of the ridgeline watching the goblin village. Questions to Dux had a habit of creating a rod on his back.
“Should I prioritise the quest to kill the chief?”
“Yes.”
“Should I focus on learning on how to kill goblins?”
“No.”
“Does assassinate mean I need to sneak in?”
“Yes.”
Tom had tried dozens of times, failing early and having to run. The prior day, he had gotten frustrated and had spent the day picking off the goblins one by one. They were almost all rank 1, and while there were hundreds of them, he was barely in danger, even if he fought them all simultaneously. That, of course, was not what he did. Instead, he practiced his stealth. A simple tactic of moving quickly and silently and finding one alone, subduing it with Spark and then slitting its throat. He had been discovered. The village had burned, and the Chieftain had died. The quest had not completed and now he was looking down upon a village that showed no signs of the genocide he wrought the previous day.
The power of DEUS.
He knew he had to sneak in, and he had trained himself exhaustively and could move silently now through the dry grass. It did not help. Even if he successfully made ten silent steps, if a blade of grass broke on the eleventh, he would be noticed and have had to abandon the attack.
It was frustrating.
He had pored over various books on camouflage, and often, he could hide himself -- at least if the goblins were more than a few metres away. Unfortunately, it was the same problem. The stillness trick only working nine times out of ten meant it would always fail when pushing into the village. There were too many of them and eventually, one of the smelly creatures would spot him.
The problem was that the goblins’ chaotic movement meant that there was no secret set of timings that would let him slip through. Trying at night made things worse. The little beasts had night vision, which meant they saw better in the dark than during the day.
He couldn’t even kill his way through, because when he killed a goblin, they inevitably defecated, and that odour brought the other ones running over to investigate.
Down below, the town comprised twenty small huts. From experience, each of them contained thirty to forty goblins, which meant he was facing a force of over six hundred, and at all points in time, two-thirds of them were out and about.
Stolen novel; please report.
After that, it was a numbers game -- and one that he was losing. There were too many eyes.
He lay there observing for half an hour, looking for a secret pattern he could exploit. He had already spent days doing this and knew he would find nothing. When one turned away, another two emerged. It was impossible.
With a groan, he shut his eyes.
He was in his system room, and Dux was sitting behind a desk, appearing calm and composed as always. For the last week, a single question had been bouncing around in his head and he was at the point that he had to ask it.
“Can I complete this quest without buying skills?”
“No.”
“That’s bullshit.” He yelled in frustration. “I can move silently. I’m aware of everything near me, and I know when to freeze.”
“Can you really?” she asked calmly.
“What?”
She smiled. “Can you really move silently?”
“As much as humanly possible.”
She had been writing on a pad and she placed her pen down and leant forward. “That’s the problem, isn’t it?” She winked.
As much as humanly possible.
That was the line that she was disputing. To achieve the quest, he had to surmount the restrictions of being human.
“Skills, as well as knowledge, also give something else don’t they?” It was not a Question it was merely him musing out loud.
“Correct,” Deus answered smoothly, using a word other than yes to show she was not answering a Question. “Depending on the Skill they can do both. If you don’t have the expertise or muscle memory, Skills often teach that, but worse than if you learn them the proper way. With Skills it’s the extras that truly mattered.”
“I’ve been being stubborn haven’t I?”
She laughed. “Absolutely, but your practice isn’t wasted. Your effectiveness in sneaking is a measure of both your Skill boosts and more fundamental technical application. The purchased skill only teaches a small amount of the latter.”
“I know. It was in the books.”
Dux chuckled again. Even with the knowledge that she was artificial, she was still a joy to be around. “I both know it’s in the books and that you’ve read them. That’s the only reason I can talk so freely.”
She pointed at the screen, and a list of over fifty skills related to stealth were listed. Tom glanced at his experience. He had been saving up and had almost sixty thousand available. He was also sick of goblins. From the list, he began purchasing. Stealth (Tier 0) Deeper Silence (Tier 1) Quiet Steps (Tier 1) Camouflage (Tier 1) Turn Eyes (Tier 2) Enemy awareness (Tier 2)
“Nice selections.”
He looked up at Dux and she gave him a big thumbs up.
“If I attempt to complete the quest, will I be defeated?”
She smiled. “No.”
Tom opened his eyes and studied the goblins again. From what he had read, buying skills often resulted in a flow of information, but nothing had come to him. Apparently, he had already learned all the technical requirements. The last month of trying to sneak into the camp had achieved something, at least.
Tom’s eyes guided once more over the crappy goblins. The majority were rank 1, and he disliked fighting them because they were so delicate and pathetic. As for the skills he had purchased, it felt like nothing had changed. Everything he had read had suggested otherwise. After all, acquisition of lots of Skills was supposed to be painful and most were supposed to give an extra sense. Not these, apparently.
He moved, focusing on his foot placement and where the goblins were. He glided silently on light feet. A goblin abruptly reversed direction. As it turned, he dropped and let his cloak fall over and hide him. His eyes watched the monster. This was one way he was often discovered even when applying the technique perfectly. He stayed still, humped over with the fabric held out in front of him to remove the silhouette of his body. Unfortunately, it only partially worked. Ninety percent of the time the unobservant goblin would fail to register him. The problem was to assassinate the chieftain. He had to get past so many goblins that the failure rate might as well have been a hundred percent instead of ten. It was the same difference in the end.
This time, the trick worked, and the stupid green thing saw another one of its kind and scurried away.
Tom scampered forward, never getting out of his crouch and using his hands occasionally for stability. Miraculously, he reached the first hut without the alarm being sounded. There were two goblins with their back turned to him and a narrow gap between them and the wall. He considered going around the other side of the hut, but he did not know what was there, and the further he moved, the more chance he had of being discovered.
Through, he decided. Attempting to sneak literally centimetres from another creature’s ears seemed the height of foolishness, but the wretched creatures had terrible senses, which made it possible, providing he did not make a mistake. With absolute focus, he snuck behind them so close he could smell their rotten cabbage stench. Then he was past them.
His eyes flicked around, assessing where all the enemies were. There was a window. He sprinted forward, watching his footfall, aware that an errant sound could alert the entire camp. Goblins had an uncanny ability to filter out the racket other goblins made to identify a heavy footfall.
Halfway across the open space, a sixth sense made him freeze, and he ducked down, pulling his cloak over him. Eight goblins burst from the hut behind him and were running straight at him. He guessed he had learnt to tell by the ambient noises when a hut was about to disgorge its occupants.
They ran past. Disturbingly close, and many of them must have looked right at him. This time, none of them saw him.
Stupid animals, he thought, how can you not notice a suspicious lump covered by a cloth in the middle of hard-packed dirt that served as a ‘street’.
Despite the disparaging thoughts in his head, Tom knew he had been lucky. That many goblins running that close to him almost always guaranteed failure.
Luck so far was with him.
He prowled forward. Froze for a foursome armed with pointy sticks to pass. Then snuck behind some more goblins, taking advantage of the gap between them and some thick bushes.
Then his senses went crazy, and he heard the cat calls start up that were a precursor to what Tom labelled goblin craziness. He sprinted and leapt into the natural runoff channel they dumped their refuse in. When it rained, water rushed through and cleared it out; unfortunately, it had been days since the last storm.
Around him, goblins were doing their best impression of five hundred headless chickens that still had their vocal cords. He stayed still and tried not to breathe. With clothes already soiled, he commando-crawled forward, head close to the ground. Unmentionables squished under his elbows and his stomach dragged on…
He wanted to rush, but he forced himself to go slowly and maintain technical discipline. There were grunts, squeals, the disgusting noise of goblins copulating all around him you would think would hide the sounds of his movement, but goblins didn’t work like that.
He needed to be silent, no matter how loud everyone else was being. Tom found himself two-thirds of the way into the little village. He had to pass the final ring of three huts and then sneak up onto the raised goblin abode, and then he could kill the chieftain and be done with the stupid quest. This was significantly further than he had ever managed before.
He kept going. The number of goblins was immense. He had to freeze multiple times as one or two randomly ran past him. So many goblins looked at him but did not see him. It was a miracle of sorts.
He dashed forward his feet silent, which was what he needed.
He froze.
Right against the wall.
Three of what he suspected were female goblins (not that he could tell) came running excited out of the Chief’s hut. He did not want to know what they were doing, but having observed the goblins for long enough he had a pretty good idea. They ran down the rickety, creaking steps with the noise hiding the sound of his breathing. One of them bounced off his hip.
He froze.
She picked herself up. Looked like a typical goblin, dumb and confused, but she somehow failed to raise the alarm. With a squeal, she chased after her companions.
Too close. It would have been horrible to get this far and then fail.
He needed to finish this. All of his muscles tensed, and he took off, sprinting soundlessly up the narrow step, and he burst into the small, raised hut. The chief was not alone, but before anyone reacted, he brought his claw dagger down and cut the wretched creature in half. The two remaining female goblins looked at him in shock. Their mouths made silent Os before he finished them too.
There was no sign of alarm.
A ding went off.
“Quest Assassinate Goblin Chief Successful.” The smooth tones told him. “Contribution points 100, Experience 1000.”
It was a good return, but probably not adjusted for time. But that was not the point. This was something that he had to complete, and he had succeeded. After months of failure, this final run had been ridiculously easy.
What was the point? Even as he asked, he knew why. On the trip here, he had been so focused on doing everything right he had not questioned the reaction of those around him. He had crawled silently through a trench filled with refuse and a fair bit of stagnant water. Nothing had heard him; given how sensitive goblins were that outcome should have been impossible. He had gone up squeaky stairs without them making a noise… Again, inconceivable; he weighed more than the female goblins, so if anything the stairs should have made more noise, not less.
So many goblins had looked at him, and then eyes had turned away. Hell, that female at the end had bounced off him. There were even multiple times he had frozen before he consciously heard or saw a goblin and then found out that his caution was necessary.
Skills!
Tom checked his skill list. Stealth (Tier 0) Deeper Silence (Tier 1) Quiet Steps (Tier 1) Camouflage (Tier 1) Turn Eyes (Tier 2) Enemy awareness (Tier 2)
He could see how each of them had been used as he infiltrated the camp; Enemy Awareness had triggered multiple times and allowed him to freeze at the right moments. That Turn Eyes skills had kept him hidden when otherwise he would have been discovered and when he went slinking in the runoff channel. Deeper Silence was at play and then Quiet Steps up the stairs. His success had been because of all of them.
Skills were more than what that term suggested based on his Earth knowledge. That was why he had to complete this quest, he realised. Dux had wanted to drive that knowledge into him in a way he couldn’t deny.
She had succeeded.
What now? He thought, looking out of the poorly made hut and the milling goblins. He hated goblins. It was time to do something new, but after a month of futile attempts to sneak, there was no way he was doing that now. Tom was already holding his main claw dagger, but he pulled out his metal one as well. It was shitty, but as a medium for Spark it was great.
Without bothering to hide himself, Tom jumped out of the hut. About forty eyes looked at him. Their faces were filled with animalistic fury. With a roar and a scream, they charged him.
Tom smiled.
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The memory released him, and he listened closely to what Everlyn was saying. She had confessed that she had outstanding technical stealth skills. Tom was sure that her abilities would far exceed what he had possessed when trying to infiltrate the goblin camp, but no matter how great she was, her stealth was still mortal.
They would not be Skills.
They would be fallible.
It was not very inspiring.
“While I don’t have the system skill,” Everlyn continued. “My stealth is supported by two traits. Silence, which can negate a small amount of noise each second. Basically, it allows me to move completely silently unless the terrain is bad, and then a trait called Turns Eyes that makes anything less likely to see me.”
Tom’s ears picked up at what Everlyn was saying. Those two traits sounded incredibly useful for a scout and more than countered the missing Skills. With those two traits, he suspected that Everlyn would have been able to breeze through that assassination quest.
“Finally, I possess enhanced vision. Special eyes.” She blinked at them, drawing attention to what she was speaking about. “They’re augmented with owl and hawk DNA or power or essence or whatever the technical Existentia term is. Owl helps me in low light conditions and hawk with seeing things in the distance. Another useful skill is that I’m a high-level Gatherer, once more through personal skill rather than system.”
“That’s a lot of skills,” Andros complimented.
Tom completely disagreed. She was clearly hiding something. Those two traits and special eyes did not account for the contribution points she must have possessed.
Everlyn twirled a strand of her hair. “Yes, I was very happy with the synergies I could create. Oh, I also have a special class.”
Sven rolled his eyes.
“Let me guess, a survivalist?” Andros asked. The kid was beaming like an idiot at her.
“Scout Gatherer. Advanced, so I get four free points plus one extra point of agility.”
Once more, Tom recognised that she was hiding something. Scout Gatherer was only an advanced class and did not explain the missing assigned contribution points. In fact, if he was going to guess it, she had only bought it because she feared it would take her too long to get the requirements on Existentia for it.
“That’s great. I wish I had an advanced class.” Andros continued.
“Are you a vegetarian?” Sven asked, clearly hunkering back to her dislike of killing.
Zap.
Sven grunted as Tom’s spark, which was dialled down to be little more than a touch of electricity hit him. It was a warning shot, being only slightly stronger than static electricity.
“Sometimes.” Everlyn answered neutrally.
Sven elbowed Tom hard in the side. “That last one was too much.”
“You should have learnt not to be a dick the first time.”
“Nothing wrong with asking about dietary requirements.”
“Tone.”
Everlyn giggled in amusement. “Let’s keep the introduction going.” She said finally.
They all turned to the next in line.