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Chapter 126: Hunt (4)
🕑 Added 2024-09-21 18:26:20 +0000 UTCWorld: MSS - Loading...
***
MSS is a simple game. Kill monsters, get stronger and kill stronger monsters.
It’s the getting stronger part which is difficult.
I’d personally organize MSS as having three separate systems you need to develop in order to have a well-rounded character.
Cores. Items. And your Racial Trait.
First of all, there’s the Core system. There are thousands of Cores and hundreds of thousands of synergies you could make with them. Which is a good thing. MSS is a game that encourages you to make parties, all fulfilling their own role in different ways. Just because you have a strong build doesn’t mean you can run solo. Each encounter is so different that you’re forced to have a party that can respond to a variety of situations.
Then there’s the items, which adds another layer of complexity to your gameplay. Items are what fills in the gap between yours Cores. Perhaps you can cover a wide variety of elemental weaknesses for monsters but lack the damage. There are plenty of items which can help with that; and many more. Mobility, Defense, Speed and sometimes entry into forbidden areas which might otherwise be closed off.
Finally, the Racial trait.
Perhaps the least flexible of the three; the racial trait is set upon character creation. Humans use [Aura], while Dwarves use [Gigantification]. Orcs use [Totems] and Beastman use [Evolution]. The moment you choose your race, it gives you a direction of your build. It’s the easiest for humans, whose Aura is just pure damage. You can go tank, DPS or even Wayfinder and still pull your own weight. But the downfall is that you will never be as good an Elemental Swordsman like a Beastman or as good a tank as a Dwarf.
But I always saw that as a charm of MSS. Infinite replayability thanks to the combination between Cores, Items and the Racial Trait you took. You haven’t really experienced MSS until you created a support-type Wind-Poison Beastman in the same party with a Poison-resistant Human Tank that can use Aura, who’s backed up by a Dwarf Wayfinder who can shoot from a crossbow the size of a small house.
That’s why it was fun though. Similar to how Cores can synergize with each other, you built a party that synergized off of each other. A balance, if you will, between the characters, that made one plus one more than two.
…Could that rule be broken?
Similar to the human racial trait, the Orc’s racial trait made them generalists. The Totem System is unique in the fact that each totem type comes with its own skill tree. Depending on how you level this skill tree, you can develop a completely different character than someone who chose the same character. An orc with an Avenger-type totem who chose [Camouflage] will be a radically different DPS than another Avenger Berserker who chose [Leap].
What if I could choose the Avenger Totem? I could learn Camouflage. Hidden in plain-sight, I could just ambush monsters until enough of my stacks piled up. Or even better, I could take a Guardian Totem; making me a hybrid between a Tank and DPS. I wouldn't even be giving up any damage. With the boost to my [Defense] stats, I’d be the ultimate frontline DPS.
The Ideal Knight.
I stared at the Totem Tattoos with open hunger.
I could literally solo bosses.
The more I thought about it, the more I felt drawn to the Guardian Totem. The Guardian Totem even had skill trees that nullified status changes, my biggest weakness. I could-
“Young Storm.” Arrosh called me.
Broken out of my trance, I saw the orc looking in my general direction.
“This will begin the second part of your training.” The elderly orc turned his back to me, ignoring the fact that I had yet to accept.
I looked at the outline of the Crow on his back, frowning. “Arrosh, I’m not an orc. There’s no way I could take a totem.”
“Are you not?” Arrosh asked.
“Of course not. I’m a human.”
Arrosh turned around, slowly. His clouded eyes were unshaking.
“You were brought into the Samak Horde as a tribe. When the sky burned with the cry of the Centipede’s Mother, and my people burned with the Mage’s flames, who was it that fought against the mage? Who was it that stood in front of his own Slavers, a Slave-turned-Savior?”
“I didn’t-”
“You found a home for your slavers, the wayward orcs. You ate with them. You live in their village, which you founded.” Arrosh’s whisper bounced off of the wall, piercing my mind like a dagger, leaving no room for doubt. “You have protected them. That is orc enough.”
“And the moment I saw you in the torture-chamber where our skins were flayed, I saw the Fate surrounding you. It is not just Oung who has taken an interest in you, My Disciple, but the God of Warriors; Khan. And He is the First Orc, the Orc-Father.” Arrosh said. “I see his mark upon you. It will work.”
“But… you’re not a Witch Doctor.” For Orcs and Beastmen, their Racial Traits had to be unlocked through their Witch Doctors. Unlike Humans, Elves and Dwarves that could unlock it naturally.
“I am not a Witch Doctor of my people. But this totem,” Arrosh reached a hand over his shoulder, absently rubbing the war paint on his back. “This Totem, I can pass onto you.”
I understood now. He wasn’t offering me my choice of Totems.
He was going to give me his.
The Crow. A Watcher-type Totem.
More than the disappointment I felt from not getting a Guardian-type Totem, my worry for Arrosh grew. It overshadowed my previous ambition, so much so that I felt a bit of shame. Arrosh had offered me something of his and even before thinking about the weight of his offer, I had surrounded myself with dreams of glory.
“And what will happen to you?”
“Nothing, young Crow.” Arrosh replied.
I breathed a sigh of relief. And my decision was made in an instant.
It didn’t matter that it wasn’t a Guardian-type totem.
Because before I was a Knight and before I was the legacy of the Sword Saint, I was Arrosh’s disciple.
If I didn’t receive the Crow, what else would I receive?
Besides…
This was something new. Something I hadn’t ever encountered in the game before.
Something I bet no one else had.
Something to give me an edge against the trials to come.
“What must I do?” I asked.
Arrosh took out a dagger. “Lie still, Disciple.”
“For this will be pain unlike anything you’ve felt before.”
Then he began to carve into my back.
***
Arrosh worked laboriously.
Each cut. Each marking.
Eking out what mana remained in his frail, old, failing body.
With each marking, Arrosh felt his own strength drain away.
For the first time, he had lied to his disciple.
It would not matter. Arrosh had lived a long time and the torture in the Scavenger’s Cave had broken his body further. This wasn’t a spur of the moment decision either, he had been planning this the moment that he had met Lock. The torture had simply broken his body more than expected, and Arrosh had no illusions that in a few months he would not be able to trust his own hands to do this.
Fate had simply pulled things ahead.
The change would be gradual. As the Young Storm’s own Totem grew, Arrosh’s own would fade in strength.
It was fine.
The Young Crow was talented and growing at a frightening speed, this would aid him in the fight to come.
Having spent time among the Elven Mage named Arione, Arrosh could understand why his disciple’s former comrades-in-arms stayed with him. The Elven Mage was talented and had an unbelievable aptitude for magic. The Mage’s understanding of the magical rules of this world was profound; having learnt the Grand Magus’ spells from books alone. It was good that Arrosh decided to accept the sheep-priest’s offer and travel alongside them.
Because he now realized, no matter how hard his disciple might try, these people could not walk the same path with him.
He saw why they traveled with the Elven Mage. It wasn’t a misunderstanding.
They feared Lock.
Arione was talented and had years to hone his Art. It was something that the others could accept, understand and find comfort in. It was a strength that they had seen and could imagine, something within the confines of their skull-brain-imagination.
So they chose to travel with the Elven Mage, who could push the thorns aside for them.
His Disciple was the opposite.
He pushed and pushed and pushed. Forcing those around him to push with him, or be left behind. For he was someone who forged his own path, his own footsteps –someone who believed that a path traveled by others was not worth traveling at all.
The others feared him.
He could feel Clover’s nervousness whenever she observed the Young Storm. It was not betrayal that drove her away, but fear that she would be abandoned by him. Left behind. For they both started as slaves, yet one took a deadly path, filled with Thorns. And the Young Storm would not stop, those who would not brave the thorns would have no choice but to turn back.
In the meanwhile, his Disciple had never stopped walking his own path.
In the process, he drew others like him, those hungry for adventure. Those who were curious, those who wanted not to be protected, but to protect the Young Crow in turn. Oh, what a joy it was to see into the Fate of his Disciple’s chosen comrades and find blinding light! Those who wanted to walk alongside him! Desperate to be an equal! Desperate to be acknowledged by the strong! To stand on their own feet and stand shoulder to shoulder!
Arrosh worked for hours, each carving wracking his body in pain.
But he persevered.
For he wanted to do something for his Disciple.
So far, he’d done nothing. NOTHING.
In the future, people would look at the next Sword Saint in all its glory.
And wrapped around the Young Sword’s body, its wings furled protectively around his shoulders, would be the Crow. In the shadows, watching, protecting his back. Watchful. Vigilant. Wary.
Now he understood why Master Nearnigh gave everything for his Disciples.
Now it was Arrosh’s turn.
He would give everything to his Disciple.
EVERYTHING.
***
It hurt.
I’m not ashamed to say I screamed. Things like pride went out a long time ago. Keeping things up for appearance’s sake? There was no need.
For this was MSS, and power would speak.
“It is done.” Arrosh heaved.
Something in Arrosh’s voice alerted me and I stood up, wincing at the fresh burning pain in my back. I turned to Arrosh, “Arrosh?”
“I am fine.” He was breathing hard. “After the harvest, the Mother-tree must rest. Regaining her strength for the next season.”
I rolled my shoulders, flexing. Already, the pain was fading away.
As Arrosh rested, I tried channeling mana into the War Totem. There was still doubt –would this work correctly? How could a human possibly use another race’s racial trait? The only race that could adopt another race’s trait was the sixth hidden race of MSS, the Nephilim. But even then, they could only pick one. They could not wield two.
But my doubts were unfounded, because the Crow Totem answered my call.
It wasn’t like using an ability, where the knowledge of how it works just popped into my head. It was akin to waking up from a deep sleep and finding out that my arm had gone asleep. Like how blood slowly fills the limb once more and I became aware of it. In the same vein, I became aware of another thing within me, another consciousness. It was me, but not me –something coming into being and becoming conscious of me the same way I became conscious of it.
I could’ve swore I heard the cawing of crows echoing down from deeper in the cave.
“Disciple…” Arrosh said. He took a place near the cavern wall, leaning back against it. “You must accept one of the blessings of my, no, your Totem now.”
Did he mean the Skill Tree?
I closed my eyes, trying to ignore my growing worry for Arrosh. He seemed tired. There was no way this was easy. In the game too, even Witch Doctors rested after unlocking Totems. I focused on the sensation, grabbing ahold of that other consciousness. It came as natural as walking. Within that second consciousness, I experienced two different sensation.
One was the sensation of flying. No doubt, the [Air Jump] skill, Arrosh’s most used skill.
The second sensation was being submerged in murky darkness. The [Darkness] skill, which submerged an area in darkness.
A mobility skill versus a utility skill.
For me though…
Was there a need to think twice?
Without hesitation, I focused on the murky sensation, submerging myself within it. Within seconds, the feeling from [Air Jump] disappeared.
Of course. Once you chose one skill from the Totem Skill Tree, the other disappeared. Not only that, now I was locked in to the Darkness Tree; I’d never be able to access skills similar to [Air Jump]. Only skills related to Darkness.
“It’s done.” I said quietly.
Arrosh nodded from his position.
“Do you know what must be done, Young Crow?”
I nodded back.
What else was there to do?
“Stay here and rest, Master.” I turned towards the other side of the cave.
It led deeper in, the path covered in darkness, lightly illuminated by the magical stones embedded in the walls. But having the Crow Totem –A Watcher-type Totem– came with numerous other benefits other than the skill Darkness. A boost to my sight stat that legitimately crossed over into Darkvision. I don’t mean the slightly better than regular sight that the Lucky Beckoning Cat gave me.
Bona fide Darkvision, the type that would be listed under my Status if I had a system window.
Not only that, a huge boost to my [Hearing] stat.
I could hear the scraping of things deeper inside the cave. Soft growls and footsteps that didn’t belong to humanoids.
Monsters.
The Myung-sa was a Grade-5 monster.
What would be the grade of the monsters in this cave? 7? 6? Weaker Grade-5s who weren’t as strong as their Variant counterparts?
Normally, this would be a death sentence for someone who just hit the level 30s. But for me? A Knight who could theoretically have infinite buffs?
The perfect Training Ground.
Of course, the others would be doing the same. Especially Delas and Arione. No wonder Delas had ran off on his own. This was a race within a race, a race to see who could gain the edge over the other when it came time for the real thing. So my goal was simple.
Before I left this island, before the main fleet could get here, before Zenom, Arione, Borealis or Delas could find it… I was going to explore every nook and cranny of this Island Dungeon, finding all its secrets and taking them for myself.
With one last look at Arrosh to make sure he was ccomfortable, I walked into the tunnels.
The race was on.
Bring it on.
I’ll crush all of you.
Comments
Mojr
Hi Author, I've been bingereading this since yesterday and just finished. When I caught up on RoyalRoad I decided I couldn't wait, so here I am. Thank you for this amazing story! I can't WAIT for more
Draddock
I think this chapter convinced me to read your other works.
Predyca
Thanks a lot for the chapter dear author ♥ It is quite something to see Arosh and Lock thinking the exact same thing. Both not seing the tremendous things they did for the other and feeling useless ;-; May Arrosh find his place among the Warriors of Khan.
Mordock 24
So much stuff to chew on with this chapter. Also, [All Mages Must Die!] is going to do so much more with this new [Darkness] skill!
N Holifield
💯
Terra
Damnn Arrosh.. my heart 😭😭 You're sacrificing everything for Lock! What an amazing master.
James Faulkner
Poor Arrosh, but a brilliant chapter. Tftc!
JgcAhian
More pls more!!! Maravilloso
Kai
Thank you 💕
Donovan Helx
Man this was a good chapter. I can’t wait for the other one
