Chapter 28

I closed my overview with a satisfied sigh. Honestly, I thought things were progressing rather well. I’d gotten my Poison Resistance to the point where I, along with Internal Scourge, would be able to take a constant influx of Millipede poison and still keep it manageable.

My regular, non-capitalized skills were also improving. The benefits from skills in Ademia were undeniable. But knowing how to move in a fight was priceless. I’d become much better at moving right, at judging which attacks to block, which to deflect or dodge, when to run.

On top of that, improvements in Higher Endurance and Athletics made sure I wasn’t running out of steam, and all my resistances and defensive skills ensured that even a cock-up or two wouldn’t see me dead.

Finally, I’d kept up my efforts to defile the dead bugs, attempting to skin every single Millipede I slew. It paid off quite well, and the single Millipede skin that my Personal Universe could fit was a good deal prettier than the first ragged attempt.

Now, I just needed two more talent points. Ten Millipedes or so. That was all.

Life had it in for me. That was all I was able to conclude. For once, I knew where I needed to go and what I needed, and life absolutely refused to deliver. I’d roamed the Millipede hunting grounds for hours now, searching for my next target, and they were absolutely refusing to appear. It looked like somebody had managed to extinguish the entire protracted family. Oops.

That left me in a bit of a bind. I needed to move on, I needed to improve, and I needed targets. But I wasn’t quite sure which way to choose.

I did have targets, should I choose to go for them. With my Concussion debuff gone, Spot skill increased to nine and two additional points to Perception, my eyesight was better than ever. During earlier days, the presences on the ridge had remained half-seen glimpses of movement at the edge of my vision. Now, they were clearly present. Yet, they weren’t like the monsters who’d attacked Ever Steady. These were humanoid. And that gave me an entirely new range of considerations.

The shapes, still hard to spot at this distance, were clearly guarding the incline leading to higher grounds. They carried glinting weapons, and moved about, not hidden, but definitely staying behind some sort of defensive structure. Not only humanoid, but with metal weapons on top?

Who were they? What were they guarding? Were they hostile? What were the odds that they’d not be way higher Level than me?

Every time I started in on those thoughts, the questions lined up and wouldn’t stop coming. And every time, the conclusions did not come up favourable. Every sentient race out there had turned up hostile so far. And, given what some of the first invaders had spouted, Ademia was likely to be a world that had been settled for ages – meaning, they were likely to be much higher level than me. Adding metal into the mix spoke to a degree of modernization that, again, I didn’t much love.

In short, I didn’t want to chance it. So, with the southward option meaning wading through swampland, I opted to continue pressing west, exploring what lay beyond Millipede territory.

For maybe twenty minutes, the answer proved to be more of the same. Grasslands, abandoned tunnels and an absolute lack of anything living.

Oh, there were the regulars, of course. A few birds. Those horribly keening grasshopper-wannabes. A vibrant ecosystem of insects, worms and the like. But nothing with levels, and nothing lurking, whetting its claws in preparation for my arrival.

Heh. Last time I’d been that wrong about a judgment call back on Earth, I hit on a biker’s girlfriend.

I am not an expert on beasts. That’s a pretty easy concession to make. Some people can wax eloquent for hours on end about grazing patterns, natural habitats, evolutionary trends and all sorts of weird-ass shit.

That’s not me. My experience with animals on Earth boils down to liking most non-chihuahua dogs, and having a tentative, unspoken ‘You don’t mess with me, I don’t mess with you.’-agreement with cats.

Same thing applied to Ademia. After my first handful of days in the world, I wouldn’t claim I’d come closer to understanding much about local animals. Surviving them, perhaps. But understanding was still a good way off.

Yet, even somebody as clueless as me would be able to admit that different species have their own, special… style, as it were. A certain mood, or sensation to their style and behavior. This was very much the case here on Ademia as well.

The Core Leechers had been pure horror, driven by sheer bloodthirst and little else. The bestial army had been diverse. Skreelings were power and fury, combined with the grace of a bull. The Riverkin were all speed, with a bit of wide-eyed gopher-like innocence, even as they killed. Glimmerscales had all the pride and patience of experienced hunters out for the kill. Millipedes? Well. Not all monsters were blessed with positive qualities.

The creature that arose from the ground was all grace. Like a dolphin at play, it arced out a tunnel, gracefully reaching a height that had mine beat, before diving back into another aperture. I didn’t even see what it was, before it was gone, leaving me with an after-image of fur and claws.

Then the attack hit me, and I stumbled back a step, looking at the line of blood emerging on my right hand.

I travelled with my shield at the ready. I always did, these days. Yet, there’d been no warning, no noise or visual give-away that I was about to be jumped. My Spot had failed me entirely.

Eyes seeking all around me, I knelt, hiding my bulk behind the shield, as I brought up the notification before me.

You have earned a new defensive skill:

Air Resistance

Passive skill

Aerial magic is the epitome of versatility. It can be pure, blunt force. Tight, controlled damage. Insidious, unnoticeable and smothering. You have survived what could have been a lethal encounter with it. Every level in Air Resistance will marginally decrease the damage received from air magic.

Air magic. Well, that was new. It also damn well explained the air time on… whatever that had been.

I whirled at the hint of movement on my right, bringing my shield down to cover my leg. I didn’t entirely make it in time. A cut into my boot revealed my now-bleeding big toe. And the annoying beast was already well gone.

A growl emerged in my throat and I ran for where the beast had disappeared again. I needed to stop being reactive and go on the offensive. Heh. Ironic.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

When I reached the tunnel opening, I glanced down and saw nothing. Yet, from behind me, a soft, slithering sound announced the arrival of another attack, carving into my leather armor and shoulder.

“Fuuuuck!” I veered, shield-first, ready to charge in another direction. Then I saw them. Not ‘it.’ Them. Three small, furry heads, innocent and adorable, with a clear gopher-like component, extracted their heads out of their separate holes, peering at me. And… didn’t attack.

I lowered my voice to a comfortable, friendly tone. “Hello, you lot. You look nice. Hey. I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we all – ” I extracted an entire Millipede kebab from my inventory and placed it on the ground before me. “become friends?”

Slowly, I eked backward, keeping my voice low and comfortable, avoiding any sudden movements. I didn’t smile at them. Weren’t you supposed to avoid showing your teeth to animals? “That’s right. It’s all yours, and I have more on me, if you’re hungry afterward. You look like a friendly bunch. Why don’t we-“ I kept up the babble as I waited to see their reactions.

The closest of the lot huffed loudly, clearly scenting the offering. It leapt gracefully out of its tunnel and bounded forward with the sort of comically adorable leaps you’d see from an otter. It moved fast, though, and the dark brown fur was ever so slightly blurred with a white-blue tinge. It reached the meat, huffed twice, cocked its head and seemed to take in the offering in good faith.

It looked back up at me and chittered preciously.