Battleforged
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Chapter 203 - Dungeon Master
🕑 Added 2022-10-24 04:00:04 +0000 UTCEric crashed to his knees, overwhelmed by a hideous flood of potential that threatened to destroy him from within once more, even as he immediately ordered his revenants to stop attacking the furiously struggling orcs within the keep walls.
Revenants who had made little headway within, despite his interface advantages and what he had told the chieftain.
Because he hadn’t need to destroy the source of the ritual to best his foe.
Only destroy his enemy’s concentration for one precious second… and ride out the furious final assault of a dying man as 50 points temporarily drained like mana from his Soul Reserves would have had him reeling, had he had anything less than 59 free points in Soul reserves, 9 being just about as good as average, and Eric’s Willpower letting him push through the sudden dysphoria that had almost had him crashing to his knees.
It had been a risk, Eric knew that all too well. But after trading blows with a monster who, however temporarily, had actually been his equal stat wise, with a size and reach advantage and a devastating weapon advantage, had come damn close to killing Eric in a battle that had almost cost him everything.
Instead, it had pushed ever more stubborn skills, like his Swordsmanship and Find Weakness, to the next level.
Yet he allowed himself only a single exhausted chuckle as he forced trembling arms so close to flying into a seizure of unbridled power to whip out his summoning mat as he screamed dark enchantments that corroded his ever more fragile peripheral foundation with death’s dark kiss, even as five more magnificent sentinels stomped their hooves in happy deference to their new master.
Your Peripheral Matrix is now suffering Extensive Occlusion!
Divine Anchors assure pristine state of all 12 Meridian Gates!
Save Versus oblivion made!
And still it wasn’t enough, a near sobbing Eric, overwhelmed with the unbridled potency of an entire territory desperate to pierce and flood his soul chanted the words to his ritual a second time in as many minutes.
“Ego to voco!” An exhausted Eric whispered in the depths of the night.
“Adiuro te!” His newly risen Revenants rumbled in unison.
“Obedire!” Eric flashed a weary smile as five additional Tuskers stomped at attention.
You have saved versus internal corruption! You are now suffering Severe Peripheral Strain!
Eric winced and groaned, feeling for the first time in a very long time what it felt to feel icky and worn out, hung over and wasted after partying too damned hard for what he swore was the last time, remembering all too well how disgusted with himself he had been the next day. Yut when his sister had actually offered with the gentlest of smiles to take him to a meeting with her, his cheeks had flushed with shame, but he couldn’t say no to the worried look in her eyes.
Because their mother might be the perfect star and movie mogul with perfect discipline, control, and effortless charisma and grace, but Eric and Elonia were the farthest thing from perfect, and at the end of the day, had only each other to count on. Regardless of his whirling emotions, he had dutifully sat through not one but two meetings with his sister that day, and hadn’t said a word through either one of them.
He never attended another meeting, but he also made a point of ghosting all his high-life-loving friends, and fell back in love with the table top RPGs that had given him such joy as a kid, soon finding himself enjoying playing with Elonia and mutual friends whose life circumstances weren’t that much different from their own. It was surprising, he thought, how quickly he got over the monkey on his back, with friends and family around to keep his head firmly on his shoulders.
Yet now he pretty much had no one at all. Just inhuman stats and an ever-growing appetite for the darkest of arts.
“Sorry sis, I’m just doing what I have to. But you damn well better believe I’ll be quietly cultivating as much shit away as I can… just as soon as I actually have a class and am not about to burst at the seems,” Eric said with a rueful sigh, shaking free of reverie’s embrace. Before his nose abruptly crinkled with the foul stench of blood and offal and the bitter sour-sweat of a chieftain who had fought to his last breath, fought so hard that his body hair had turned white as a ghost and his face shriveled like an elder shaman’s and for all his efforts, had still died in the end.
Eric gave a surprised whistle, giving a genuinely pitying shake of his head as he brushed the now shriveled, ancient looking shell of a cadaver and all its prizes within his ES Space. “You were no doubt the badest motherfucker I ever crossed blades with. But you sure as shit paid a price for it, didn’t you?” He chuckled ruefully. “It seems both our cultural heritages employ blood magic that definitely cuts both ways. Because even if you had managed to kill me… that would have pretty much been the end for you, wouldn’t it?”
Eric’s pitying shake of his head turned to a look of genuine horror, however, when all the orcs that had been hidden in what his Dominion Interface Map had pinged as tunnels beneath the keep proper finally made their appearance.
Yet Eric felt no sense of alarm, and somehow had absolutely no doubt at all that each and everyone of the orcs before him would keep to the chieftains oath, having absolutely no desire to cross Eric or his sister’s forces ever again. Because even if Eric refused to raise a finger against them, he would be surprised if they made it back to Freetown alive at all.
“You will keep to the terms of the agreement, yes?” wheezed the largest of the orcs present.
Eric slowly nodded, unable to hide the pity in his eyes as the shriveled-looking orc leaned against the shaft of his halberd like a walking staff, his once deep purple markings having faded to a pink so faint it was almost as white as the silvery bristles covering its entire body, its tusks blackened useless things. “I will,” Eric said, not trusting himself to say another word.
The shriveled prune of an orc wheezed with bitter laughter. “Yeah, we look like shit. I don’t need you to tell me that. Damn good thing that fucking shaman was the first of us to crumble. And you should have seen the way he was shrieking and screaming and begging our chieftain to break the link, a link that should have only needed to be up for a mere handful of seconds to kill you, both of those fuckers swore it!”
The orc’s words broke off in a desperate fit of coughing as the other orcs behind him hissed and cursed under their breath, only a few daring to look at Eric with anything like ire. Most of them gazed at their own shriveled hands with looks of absolute despair.
“But this isn’t the end for the Skull Crushers. You’d better believe it isn’t!” The palsied orc flashed Eric a deprecating smile. “Oh, we’re done with the fucking war, better believe that. But nothing says the Classers among us can’t still dare the dungeons around Freetown. Goddamned goblins swore to that specifically! Just you wait, Roundear. A couple of levels, and I’ll be my old self again. You’ll see!”
Eric flashed a pitying smile. “Sure you will.”
“Damn right we will. Hell, maybe we’ll start our own adventuring company. That’s what you all do in Freetown, right? Well you better believe the Skull Crushers will be a guild to be remembered!” The ancient orc gave a cackle. “Hell, we might even let your kind join us! Time for a fresh fucking start, assuming any of us live out the week, I say.”
“Good luck with that,” Eric said with a chuckle, before his gaze hardened. “And just to be clear. You all are surrendering all rights to this territory, and have removed your status as Contenders entirely. Is that correct?”
The ancient orc exchanged tired nods with a handful among him that could still stand straight. “Damn right we have. First thing we’re doing is selling all the hauberks and muskets half these idiots have no business ever using again, and that will be the start of our guildhall.”
“It will be good to get out of this armor, but we’re still working for you, right boss?” asked one truly pathetic looking orc specimen, clearly one without the saving grace of any class. Eric thought it unlikely he’d live out the year.
This earned a pitying snort so like Eric’s own. “Sure, Gluck. You and the others can help maintain the fucking place. You’re all sharing one room and eating one bowl of stew each per day made of whatever fuckers we get from the delves. But yeah. You all can stay, so long as you make yourselves useful.”
The shriveled orc nodded with relief, its beady eyes tearing up with gratitude. “We won’t let you down, boss. You’ll see.”
This earned a snort from their leader. “Shut the fuck up and let’s just get our asses to Freetown. Snoot, pull out the goddamned white banner! We’re done with this conquest bullshit. Let’s go.”
A part of him felt a strange and not entirely welcome pity for the ancient remnants of the Skull Crusher tribe. A part of him hoped that at least a couple might forge tales for themselves as honorable adventurers who ascended past both age’s hoary grip and the vicious homicidal tendencies of so many of their kind.
But before he could think of any parting words to say that didn’t sound absolutely hypocritical considering that he was well and truly the agent of their destruction, Eric found himself howling with agony sublime in its perfection while transcendent flames scorched through his body and soul.
Congratulations! You have successfully conquered Ashland County Territory!
You possess the essence of Dominion!
You have uncontested Rites over this Domain!
The endless potential of an entire realm is at your fingertips!
How do you wish to shape this realm?
For only a second did he contemplate tearing free the sweet fruits of potential locked within this realm. Prizes of conquest and power that would see his limbs swelling with yet more superhuman strength, able to tear through his foes at an ever more furious pace, his physical resilience of 25 already beyond the purview of any caliber less than a 44 magnum, and with a few more conquests, even orc musket fire would do no more damage to his naked flesh than earning an ugly bruise, even at point blank range.
Yet he froze before embracing the sweet, sweet rush that was Necromantic Consumption.
Because, even if this territory would have to be surrendered to the administration of others, for so long as he dared declare himself a Vessel of Oblivion, with the power to consume the near endless potential of any territory to yield before him, this humble 416 square mile tract of land was so much more than a random tile upon the board of global conquest upon which he dared to paint in his own crimson colors.
This was a territory that served as the gateway to not just a pristine pocket dimension, but to an entire world.
A mystical realm filled with magnificent forests and fields stretching across entire virgin continents filled with undiscovered mystery, wonder, and impossible cultivation treasures. An entire realm for countless future heroes and cultivators to explore as they rose from the ashes of what had come before, Eric even now sensing his friends embracing wondrous adventures of their own, somehow certain that, within just a couple month’s time, the secrets they would unlock would be worth absolutely every sacrifice Eric had made.
The last thing he would do is steal away the glorious potential from which so much possibility might spring forth.
Not when he could let this unique territory serve as a bridge to the wondrous cultivation realm he had left behind, evolving into a gateway to an entire new realm of possibilities, adventure, and growth. A path forward for countless hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of struggling adventurers and mortals desperate for a way forward beyond a single handful of potentially corrupted pods with a 90% fatality rate, granted nothing but ever more obstacles and hindrances thrown their way from countless races eager to see Terran natives sink to the status of servants and slaves, and never rise beyond the lowest of ranks, never be a threat to their own favored champions and children who would gleefully claim Eric’s world as their own.
Eric arched his back with a cry, surrendering so much potential even as he forged a wonder that might help the potentials of countless others.
There would be countless territories for him to feast upon.
This territory would serve as one of the very few he would leave whole and untouched by his ravenous caress, a bulwark for humanity to rise above the crashing waves of all their foes.
Eric shivered with wonder, overwhelmed by the possibilities suddenly before him. In the blink of an eye, he could transform this territory into an agricultural paradise, endless fruit trees as far as the eye could see. Hundreds of farms sporting lush, fecund crops that would have no equal as nearly supernatural weather assured constant warm breezes so the ground never froze, kissed by gentlest rain as lush black soil allowed for multiple harvests every single season of the year.
Or perhaps he was overestimating the soil, ignoring grit that would only allow moderate agriculture, but that spoke of rich veins of steel, copper, and coal, everything needed for a magnificent mining and manufacturing mecca that by itself would quickly rival any 19th century industrial hub. And with the advent of arcanistry, air wizards who might forge enchantments to turn belching smoke into wisps of gentle steam, his factories manned by highly skilled craftsmen combining know-how with a high enough Profession level, and almost anything magi-tech advancement he could dream of just might be possible, given enough time.
But there was another path he could take, more glorious still. A step removed from both agriculture and industry, but one just as vital to the growth and progression of his beleaguered people as any other. A path that had everything to do with the path of adventure, wonder, and daring to go ever further in forging tales that would become legends without equal, inspiring an entire world.
It was a path that would take full advantage of the pristine eternal resonance linking this singular territory with an entire world, just single reality away, did Eric dare to synergize the strengths and Bounties of two realms into one grand step forward for mankind as a whole
Thanks to the mirror world now forever linked to the territory you have mastered, unique territory improvements are now available to you!
You have chosen to infuse Ashland Territory with the Lesser Bounty of Spiritual Energy! Cultivators will now receive cultivation bonuses! Children born to mortals are now far more likely to be born with an aptitude for cultivation! Children born to mortals are now far more likely to be born with intact Nodes that will allow for pod survival and System Class selection! Spirit fruit may now be grown and harvested within this territory! Dungeons and portals explored within this territory now have a chance to be cultivation affiliated!
Rejoice, cultivators! A Terran Oasis is now available to you!
Eric smiled, feeling in that transcendent moment like both a deity and a crafter, doing his best to build the humble foundation of what would one day be his masterwork. Or, perhaps, a farmer, who had just finished preparing the lushest soil imaginable. His next step was to plant the seeds of possibility, and nurture them as best he could.
You have chosen to infuse Ashland Territory with the Lesser Bounty: Promise of Adventure! It turns out that your territory has not one, but a handful of portals leading to various pocket realms full of peril and adventure! Not even you know for certain what trials and wonders await within each one, but you do know that all are stable, will never expire, rupture, or plague these sacred lands with beast tides, and all are filled with rewards commensurate with their peril! The balance every delver and explorer hopes to find in dungeons that seem almost designed to challenge them and push them to their limits and beyond, even if some pay the ultimate price for their daring. But above all else, those delves will serve as the key to growth and blossoming like never before!
You have chosen to infuse Ashland Territory with the Lesser Bounty: Adventurer’s Paradise! (Multiple Synergisms detected.) Your myriad dungeon portals don’t simply promise fair challenge and growth, but assure the boon of sweet rewards as well! Whether it be in the form of beast cores or arcane jewels, exotic boosting crystals or magical mushrooms, valuable beast pelts or priceless ore, your delves are shining beacons of prosperity that nearly every Guild would wage war to claim as their own!
Eric suppressed a grimace, already knowing the dangers and perils of limited dungeon real estate, and adventurers desperate for survival, safety, and prosperity. It was with them in mind, literally the entire population of Freetown in mind, that Eric had made his choices, sensing an ephemeral possibility, a mad, sweet, glorious spark of potential that, miraculously, chose that moment to flare to life beyond his wildest hopes and dreams.
When the Greater Bounty Perk he had only sensed like a grayed out placeholder in a sea of territory development options not only solidified but blinked a glorious golden yellow, much like the sunlight of the realm he had been forced to leave, he grabbed tight hold, and refused to let it go.
No matter how hoarsely his physical body cried out, straining himself in ways no mortal was ever meant to endure.
You have saved versus Soul Rupture.
You have ascended as a Contender!
You have successfully infused your Conquered Territory with the Greater Boon: Endless Adventure!
A territory forged between two realms, infused with Spiritual Energy and the Essence of Adventure, has the possibility for infinite stories to be told! More than a single point, it is a 4-D matrix of endless possibility!
Triple Synergies Detected!
Each of your dungeon realms now contains countless levels to explore! Each terrain is fully mappable, filled with wealth, peril, and possibly a cultivator’s paradise of revelations, resources, and challenges as well! Every level is guarded by a sentinel, the mastery of which earns dungeon clear status, and allows entrance into the next realm! (Bosses reset every (7-(realm potency) = 1!) days.
Note! Portals to all boss-cleared levels is accessible to select delvers upon entrance!
Eric howled with the rush of insights flooding his soul in the most exquisite of torments as an entire territory was twisted at right angles to all known points, reality itself bending to his will. A once near-baron demesne occupied by a scattering of orcs and others who fled for all they were worth as the very world shifted and transformed around them became something beyond miraculous as rich golden rays of spiritual energy brought peace to countless undead revenants dissolving under the golden light, save for Eric’s own cavalry that simply savored the caress of that sun as first one, then another, than a full twelve portals flashed into being within Ashland territory, in a pattern eerily reminiscent of Eric’s own Meridian configuration.
Each and every one of those rifts would serve as a gateway to endless adventure. And far from being perilous death traps, every portal resonated not only with balance and the promise of a hero’s evolution, but the enticement of wealth far beyond what most delvers could hope to find on their luckiest days within dungeons formed by arcane fields and chance alone, with more than a few offering teasing glimpses into a cultivator’s revelations as well.
And perhaps most remarkable of all, linked as it was to a mirror realm stabilized by portals enhanced by the very creator who now dared to break all limits, each and every one of those delves, or pocket dimensions, offered the potential of adventures without limits. Each level of each delve would be as vast as Ashland territory itself, each and every one fully resetting within days, as opposed to weeks or months. And not one pocket realm would pose any threat to the world that hosted the multidimensional string of its existence.
Eric crashed to his knees, humbled by the forging of a masterwork beyond what even he could have hoped for. A double edged forging that, it seemed, the System was determined to make as bitter as it was sweet, even as it offered a balm so potent that Eric would gladly accept the sting of secrets revealed.
System-Wide Message! Let all Parties know that Eric Silver is the first Contender to Forge a Conquered Territory into a Bronze Tier (adventurer) Mecca!
Ashland has become an Ascendant Territory! Unlimited Delves Property has been detected! World-Gate (Indestructible to all below Gold Tier) Has been detected!
Eric Silver has earned the Title: Realm Forger!
