Chapter 83
A New Philosophy on Training
The world had not exploded. It had just felt that way because I'd been the one slamming into the ground at thousands of miles per hour.
If I'm being honest, the collision hadn't caused quite as much damage as I'd expected. Sure, it had dug an impressive crater and sent a wave of dust and dirt rolling out in all directions, but it was nowhere near enough catastrophic enough to put any dinosaurs at risk of extinction.
That's not to say my crash landing hadn't caused any problems.
The wave of dust and dirt had travelled hundreds of metres in every direction, and Rel and the gang just so happened to be within a hundred metres of where I'd landed.
Commander Osian and his knights no longer looked so magnificent.
The glowing silver Divine Plate Mail from Azzarath. The void-black armour from Tarridor. The gleaming black plate armour from Pyroth.
It was all just dusty brown now.
Although he was far too polite to say anything, it was obvious that Osian was not happy. To make it up to him, I spent the next half hour digging through the crater in search of Anokium's sword. Once I'd found it, I withdrew some water from my inventory and gave it a quick clean before presenting it to the skeletal knight.
He was so excited that he actually gave me a very manly hug.
Sir Gorak was also covered from head to foot in dirt, but unfortunately I had nothing to give him. He'd just have to make do with the fact that I'd saved his life.
Sir Rockington III... well, actually, other than being a little grimier, he looked pretty much the same.
Rel was entirely spotless. As I'd crashed into the ground, ribbons of flame had burst into existence around his body, whirling so quickly that they’d formed a fiery cocoon which incinerated every speck of dirt and dust before it could touch him.
“Pete, Rel,” said Sir Gorak, nodding respectfully to the two of us, “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but I truly hope our paths never cross again. I have a feeling that if they do, it'll be because something potentially catastrophic and life-threatening is about to happen, and I'm getting too old for this shit."
“Fair enough,” I said, clapping him on the shoulder. “For what it’s worth, I’ve really enjoyed our time together.”
He stared at me for a few moments, let out a weary sigh, then turned and began trudging back towards Fardown.
“I really hope I’m that much of a badass when I reach his age,” I said, watching the retreating form of the dirt-covered old knight.
Rel chuckled. “Pete, I have no intention of ever being that old.”
I raised an eyebrow. The statement could be interpreted in one of two ways. Either he intended to live fast and die young, or he planned to use magic to somehow make himself immortal and retain his youth forever.
Knowing Rel, the second option seemed far more likely. If the Grim Reaper ever had the misfortune of attempting to claim him, it'd likely end up getting blasted in the face with lightning and told in no uncertain terms to fuck right off.
*
After Sir Gorak left, Rel returned the skeletal knights and Sir Rockington III to their realms.
We then checked out the quest reward.
Champion's Greatsword
The greatsword once wielded by Anokium, the exiled Champion of Khurian. He claimed the weapon after defeating Vladak Steelheart in single combat.
The sword's origins are unknown, though it is rumoured to have been forged by the demigod Zakemis. Countless heroes of legend have met their end at its edge, earning it the name Doomcaller, Breaker of Heroes.
Equipping the item grants the following bonuses:
+ 8 strength
+ 6 agility
+ 5 durability
+ Grants the ability: Relentless Momentum
Relentless Momentum
When engaged in prolonged combat, the wielder does not grow tired. Instead, their speed and reactions steadily improve, allowing them to push beyond their normal limits.
Speed increases by 10% for each minute of combat (capped at 100% increase)
Well, that explained why Anokium was moving like Sonic on crack by the end of our fight.
I was tempted to use the weapon myself, but after a few moments of consideration, I decided it wasn't for me. Other than for training purposes, I wasn't generally a man who engaged in long, drawn-out fights.
I was more of a punch-their-head-off-and-be-done-with-it sort of guy.
Still, the weapon was going to serve a very important purpose: being traded in for Expedition Centre Points and bringing me one step closer to becoming the proud owner of the Pitchfork of Lurus.
Some people dream of legendary swords. Me? I dream of a pitchfork that I can throw like a spear, then hold out my hand and call back to me like a complete badass.
Speaking of items…
“Rel,” I said. “I’ve been thinking.”
He turned to look at me, one eyebrow raised. “That sounds dangerous…”
I reminded him of what my middle finger looked like.
"We've picked up some pretty incredible items over the past few months that have made us way stronger," I said. "When I have everything equipped, including my two swords, I gain an extra eighteen points of strength."
“That is significant,” he replied, then gestured for me to get to the point.
“Well,” I said, “by having them equipped all the time, don’t you think we’re actually putting ourselves at a bit of a disadvantage when it comes to training? Think about it. Stat gains come more quickly when you’re pushing your limits, but that becomes a lot harder when you’re decked out in absurdly good gear. Take my fight with Anokium, for example. If I’d removed my bracers, rings, and peasant garb, I have no doubt I’d still have beaten him, but it would definitely have been more of a challenge.”
Rel looked at me thoughtfully for a few moments, then nodded. “Pete,” he said. “I don’t care what anybody else says, I think you’re a rather intelligent individual.”
“Thanks, I– wait... who’s ‘anybody’, and what have they been saying?”
He dismissed the question with a wave of his paw. “That’s not important,” he replied. “I completely agree with your logic. What do you suggest we do?”
“We go back to basics for a while,” I said. “We keep all of our items ready to go in our inventory pouch, but we only bring them out if we really need them. If we’re not sure how dangerous a fight is going to be, we can always play it safe and gear up beforehand…” I paused for a moment as something occurred to me. “I think I’ll keep wearing my peasant garb though. I know the +5 stats and defensive bonuses it provides will affect my training, but I’d rather not find out if GEC have any rules about public indecency.”
“See,” said Rel. “Rather intelligent.”
We spent the next few minutes putting our items into our inventory pouches.
My Rings of the Champion. My Bracers of the Titan... and then, with a very sad sigh, my Arcane Spectacles of Perception.
I even removed the straw hat, so that, on the surface at least, I once again looked like the Pete of four months ago. Back when I was a simple peasant living in a log cabin in the middle of a forest with my squirrel buddy.
“I realised something earlier,” I said, as Rel pulled the Amulet of the Draeven from beneath his robes and added it to his inventory pouch. “We've spent the last few weeks so focused on helping Kaelis, Voklum, and Allaria that we've barely grown any stronger ourselves. I've gained more stat points today than I have in the entirety of the last two weeks.”
“You’re right again,” he said. “The time was well spent, though. Kaelis, Voklum, and Allaria are fast approaching the top fifty for total stat gains, and they’re more than ready to begin some serious questing as a team. Now? It’s time for us to return our attention to our own training.”
Our eyes met.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” I asked.
“Pete, I think I may well be thinking what you're thinking.”
There passed between us a moment of perfect understanding, as though we could read each other's minds.
Perhaps it was the almost-telepathic bond of brotherhood that had begun to form between us.
Perhaps it was because we were both crazy people obsessed with growing stronger.
Whatever the reason, it was beautiful.
“Grind-a-thon,” we said in unison.
It was a perfect high-fiveable moment. Unfortunately, Rel was entirely unfamiliar with the concept, and when I raised my hand, he stared at me blankly and left me hanging.
I let my hand drop with a sigh.
“So,” I said, “we have around three months before we need to be back in Oakreach for the opening of Floors Nine and Ten of the Tower of Potential. I’m thinking we spend the next ten weeks going balls to the wall and ploughing through as many quests as possible without our gear. After today, I think one-star Tier Five quests are a great place to start. Then we can slowly work our way up as our stat points increase. And then...”
I grinned.
“We go to the Rewards Office, splurge all our hard-earned Expedition Centre Points on some absolutely beastly items, equip every single piece of gear we own, and then take on the raid boss quests. I think that three-star dragon with a recommended group size of twenty would be the perfect place to start.”
“Pete,” said Rel, “We may have to promote you from rather intelligent, to just plain intelligent.” He rose into the air, and I followed suit. “Let's go and tell the others the plan. I'm pretty sure their quest mentioned something about farmland to the north of Stonehaven...”
*
Kaelis leapt aside as the stonehide boar charged once again. He twisted as he moved, lashing out with a backhanded swing of his axe.
It bit into the creature’s frustratingly durable hide, leaving only a shallow gash. Blood trickled from the wound, but there was little more than you'd expect from a papercut.
It was about the fiftieth such wound Kaelis had inflicted on the beast. On its own, each was entirely inconsequential, but if he managed to inflict enough of them, surely they would eventually begin to take their toll?
That was the plan, at least.
In fact, it may have just been wishful thinking, but he was fairly certain that the creature was finally beginning to tire. Its most recent charge hadn't been quite as spirited as the previous ones.
Then again, maybe it was just becoming as fed up with this tedious dance as he was.
The boar’s charge continued for a short distance, then it came to a stop with a furious snort. It turned on the spot, glaring at Kaelis through its dark, beady eyes.
It was an enormous creature, easily reaching Kaelis's shoulders in height. Its body was broad and powerful, with a thick layer of stone covering its hide. A thin coat of coarse brown hair sprouted from the rock, but much of it was now matted red with blood from the numerous wounds Kaelis had managed to inflict.
It lowered its head as it prepared to charge.
Movement from above caught Kaelis’s attention, and he glanced up to see two figures floating high overhead. The sun was behind them, reducing both to little more than silhouettes, but one detail stood out.
The smaller figure appeared to have an incredibly pointy head.
Wait a second... it wasn't a head.
It was a hat!
“Grandmaster! Master!” said Kaelis excitedly, lowering his axe and raising a hand in greeting. “It is good to–”
The boar collided with him and sent him tumbling through the air. He crashed to the ground directly in the path of the still-charging beast.
It trampled him.
One hoof dislocated his jaw.
The next shattered a rib.
The third crushed a testicle.
You have gained one durability.
Current durability: 25
The fourth, thankfully, missed him entirely.
Even through the blinding haze of pain, Kaelis couldn't help but marvel at the greatness of his Grandmaster and Master.
How had they known that distracting him at that exact moment would lead to him suffering enough damage to gain a point in durability?
They truly were remarkable individuals.
*
“He's a bit of a dumbass sometimes, isn't he?” I asked.
“Yes,” said Rel, golden energy gathering around his paw. “But he's our dumbass.”
I swooped in to distract the boar while Rel played doctor.