Mage Tank - Chapter 154: Sharing (your stats) is Caring

Chapter 154: Sharing (your stats) is Caring

The way forward was to crawl further onward through the hive surrounding us. It took an hour to convince Etja to dive back inside the tunnels, but she relaxed once we realized that most insects had hidden or fled. Whether that was due to our completion of the objective or Varrin and Co’s relentless week-long slaughter, we didn’t know. Either way, we were only forced to squash a few lingering bugs. None of them were pushovers, but neither were they serious threats. No more Doomed Aspirants appeared to challenge us.

Etja wasn’t afraid of bugs–not any more than the average super-person–but a week of constant assault and the hypervigilance it required to endure had gotten to her. Combined with being lost in tight underground spaces and being filthy beyond measure, uncertain whether she would arrive in time to save the lives of her friends, it was reasonable that she was reluctant to repeat the experience. Really, I thought she was holding up better than most would if put into a similar situation.

We began by going up, led by Etja’s knowledge from the Incorporated bugs. I continually scanned for valid teleport locations using Coordinated Thinker and discovered a large, empty space above us once we were within a mile of the hive’s outer edge. That’s also when the air began to thin.

We were able to press on for a time until the distance wouldn’t trigger a large cooldown from Reckless Shortcut. The others had begun having difficulty breathing, and even I was getting uncomfortable. I took a few deep breaths of the scarce atmosphere and used Shortcut to teleport to the edge of the emptiness above.

A twist of dimensional energy zipped me away like usual, and I appeared on the surface of the moon.

I fought against the vacuum trying to empty my lungs for a moment, and readjusted my sense of balance. Whatever force created the artificial gravity throughout the rest of the Delve was no longer present, although there was still enough to barely keep me from accidentally kicking off into the void.

I used Therianthropy and vibrant wings unfolded at my back, their magic allowing me to maneuver even without atmosphere. I spun and scanned the land around me, ignoring the discomfort from my exposed eyes, but found no obvious structures. The ground was tinged a slight blue, and when I glanced down I realized that it wasn’t composed of the moondust or dirt that my mind had expected. No, the presence of countless metallic beads broke my lunar prejudices. I scooped up a handful, icy cold and smooth, then rolled them around in my palm. They were uniform for the most part, a few sporting slight pitting in places.

I placed some in my inventory, collecting a decent pile. I had no idea what the substance was, and I couldn’t identify it with my interface. It might be valuable, or useful for crafting, or maybe it would give us some clues about what was happening in the skies above Arzia. I would have taken more, but I was on a timer. If we decided it was worth the delay, I could always return and get a few wheelbarrows worth. The beads stretched on for as far as I could see, so it was more likely to be worthless, aside from the novelty of its origin.

I kept track of the location of my allies, ensuring I could use Shortcut to get back, and began exploring in a large, spiraling pattern. I gave myself 20 minutes but didn’t find anything worth noting. Not even a crater. I’m sure that meant something astronomically speaking, but I didn’t know what. Maybe the moon wasn’t that old. Maybe there wasn’t anything in this solar system that might collide with it. Maybe it self-repaired. Coming up empty with my search, I teleported to my allies and reported my findings. We tried moving laterally and repeated the exercise a few times, but I never found any clues as to where we should be going.

We eventually decided to heed Varrin’s directional wisdom and headed down.

We traveled more than 200 miles into the moon. None of us knew how far it was to the center. While Arzia’s moon had been estimated to be about 1800 miles in diameter, we weren’t confident we were on the same satellite. The moon visible from Arzia was typically gray-white, similar to Earth’s moon, although its color altered slightly based on atmospheric conditions. There were times it took on a blue hue, and the beads I’d taken were only subtly blue, so it was possible they were the same orbital bodies.

After all, if they weren’t the same, how come nobody ever noticed this one?

Earth’s moon had a radius of a thousand miles or something, but I also thought I remembered its gravity being described to be a little stronger than what I’d experienced up above. That ultimately didn’t tell us anything, since we had no idea about this moon’s density. The soil had given way to rock, but the atmosphere was breathable and there was no spike in geothermal heat. Again, I was no geologist or physicist, but the whole thing felt unnatural.

Of course, while I lacked any professional STEM honorifics, I could now proudly add astronaut to my curriculum vitae.

Esquire Arlo Xor’Drel

Platinum Delver, Extradimensional Traveler, & Astronaut

It sounded pretty good. People valued experience over degrees these days anyway.

We cut through the tunnels pretty quickly. Varrin’s Siege Breaker evolution let him do 10 times normal damage to mundane objects, which applied to stone tunnels. While we lacked any mining equipment, his inner dwarf emerged when I handed him the Giant Spiked Mace of the Bloody Jubilee. He didn’t have the Blunt skill to use its effects, but he sure as hell could swing it. The man’s 40 in Strength also made him capable of lifting boulders, and Shog displayed a comparable level of might.

Early on in our journey through rock and stone, I stopped and asked Shog if he had a status screen of some kind, which he did. Grotto insisted that no c’thon would expose volunteer such information and potentially expose their weaknesses, but Shog sent everyone in the party a condensed version. That shut Grotto right up, and I could swear Shog did it half to spite the “c’thon imposter”. I looked over the sheet and was both impressed and mildly alarmed.

Shog’tuatha, C’thon Brood Lord

Stats:

Strength40

Agility25

Speed38

Fortitude30

Intelligence1

Wisdom10

Charisma1

Luck1

Passive Skills: 3/4

Graboid

Stalking Predator

Limb Stealer (Super)

Active Skills: 7/10

Soul Chomp

Barbed Constrictor

Psychic Whip

Quick Sting

Warp Speed

Swoop

Whirlwind

Intrinsic Skills: 8/10

Aerial Combat30

Unarmed29

Physical Magic28

Stealth26

Blades22

Dimensional Magic22

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

Leadership21

Spiritual Magic21

Maybe it shouldn’t have surprised me, but he had the stats of a level 16 Delver. He was Grade 16, but the fact that I could summon someone that strong felt… totally unfair. I had 29 more total stats than Shog, but his were heavily concentrated on physical attributes, whereas some of mine were in stats I rarely used like Charisma and Luck. No wonder he kicked the shit out of everything. He was basically as overpowered as I was.

I didn’t pry into his passives and actives–most of them spoke for themselves–and his intrinsics were no surprise, with the exception of Leadership. Who was he leading? Other c’thons? Is that why he was called a Brood Lord? As much time as I’d spent with the c’thon, I didn’t know too much about his personal life. That one was on me, I supposed. I never really asked. Then again, he never volunteered a lot, so I assumed he preferred his privacy.

Also, Aerial Combat sounded fucking awesome. Once I was maxed out in Physical Magic, I’d be able to summon wings for up to 8 hours a day with Therianthropy. It might be worth trying to pick that one up. Plus, Grotto could probably benefit from it.

Speaking of my Bonded Familiar, I inquired as to whether Grotto would also be willing to share, but the core seemed uncomfortable after viewing Shog’s sheet. But a few hours later he psychically told me that the screen was for my eyes only, and I got a notification to receive a similarly compressed status screen.

Delve Core 1156 “Grotto”

Stats:

Strength1

Agility1

Speed1

Fortitude20

Intelligence20

Wisdom20

Charisma34

Luck1

Passive Skills: 3/4

Industrial Transmutation

Bonded Familiar

Aura of Despair

Active Skills: 7/10

Animate Object

Suggestion

Despair

Commandment

Enhance Spirit

Rebuke

Second Wind

Intrinsic Skills: 10/10

Spiritual Magic41

Botany40

Divine Magic31

Subterfuge31

Architecture30

Animal Husbandry23

System Call20

Dungeoneering20

Reconnaissance18

Mystical Magic10

Grotto’s stats were in line with a level 10 Delver, which made sense because I was his bond and I was level 10. It was probably still unfair of me to be capable of having a familiar that essentially added an entirely new party member to a normal level 10 team, but at first glance, Grotto didn’t look as potent as Shog. The advantages Grotto brought to the table were more unquantifiable, however. His depth of knowledge and expertise related to System matters–when he felt like sharing–was invaluable. Even if he did nothing more than give us input and advice, I’d still think he was pulling his weight.

Grotto also had a full set of intrinsics, and his total intrinsic levels were higher than anyone else in the party. He was exactly a bajillion years old, so that followed, although the fact that they weren’t higher raised some questions. Like Shog, I didn’t pry into the specifics of his abilities, letting him decide on his own time how much he wanted to get into it. I was extremely curious what all he used his level 31 Subterfuge skill for, but between pretending to be a c’thon 24/7 and trying to keep secrets so that he didn’t face System retribution, it seemed valid.

I did want to know more about his intrinsic levels, numerically speaking, and figured it would be a vague enough conversation that it wouldn’t be invasive. Of course, it’s not as though Grotto took other people’s feelings into consideration very often, but he’d been making some strides in that direction lately. No reason to push boundaries and possibly encourage an emotional relapse.

“Hey Grotto,” I thought to the core. “Mind if I ask you a sort of personal question? I’ll understand if you don’t want to answer, so no pressure.”

My familiar scanned the others around us, as though they might eavesdrop on the psychic conversation. Even if we were talking at normal volume, I doubt the others could hear much over the sound of Varrin and Shog minecrafting us straight to bedrock.

[Very well.]

“Not to be indelicate, but you are very, very old.”

[That is correct.]

“Like, ‘geological ages’ levels of old, right?”

[Yes. I harbor no shame over my age if that is why you are awkwardly flailing for inoffensive wording.]

“No, what I’m wondering is, since you’ve been alive for what seems like a non-trivial fraction of this planet’s existence, why aren’t your intrinsic skills all maxed?”

Grotto turned to study my expression before he responded. Whatever he saw there, it seemed to satisfy him.

[A Delve Core’s existence is not like your own,] he thought to me. [While the System is dormant, I enter into a state of hibernation. My functions are limited to maintaining the Delve that I am responsible for, but I am not allowed to continue actively managing and improving upon it. Even then, I am conscious for less than 0.1% of the time during this period, and the level of sentience I possess while conscious during such System dormancy is limited. There is little need for my personality matrix to function above a base level. Put simply, I have spent the vast majority of my life asleep.

[When the System is online and actively encouraging Delver growth, I am awake, but still not perpetually fully aware. My personality matrix only manifests in its entirety while I am performing complex duties or while Delvers are within my halls. Even so, I have operated at full capacity for thousands of times longer than a normal human lifespan.

[The answer to your question thus has many parts. My skills were not characterized in this manner until I became your Bonded Familiar. I possessed the skills I needed for my tasks, but there was no need for them to be expressly quantified, enticing me toward challenge and improvement. Additionally, the repetition of a task alone is insufficient to level a skill after a certain point. My duties were well-defined, and while I was allowed a certain degree of freedom and flexibility, the majority of my activities were ones I’d mastered an eon ago.VịSit no(v)3lb/!n(.)c𝒐m for new 𝒏ov𝒆l𝒔

[I also suspect that my skills have been suppressed to some degree. Dungeoneering, for example, should be much higher, but it has been linked to your own intrinsic for some reason. On the other hand, Spiritual Magic has risen to heights I have never before achieved, much of which has to do with our soul bond. Altogether, my involvement with you and your party has been a catalyst for an incredible leap in mastery over several skills.]

“Our party,” I thought to him. He raised an octo-brow at me. “It’s our party, Grotto. Not my party. You’re as much a part of it as anyone.”

Grotto considered my words, then fixed me with a meaningful gaze.

[Since Hognay entered my Delve and I became your Bonded Familiar, this is the longest uninterrupted period of full sentience I have experienced in my time as a Delve core. It has begun to evoke memories of my old life, the one lived out by the man upon whom I am modeled. It is strange. But I also find it… agreeable.]

“Well, I’m glad you’re with us. The way you describe it, I’m not sure I would enjoy being a normal Delve Core.”

[I had never given it much consideration until lately.]

“If you ever want to talk about it, I’m happy to lend an ear.”

Grotto didn’t seem to have much else to say after that, so I walked beside him for a time as we followed the group through the holes being dug by Varrin and Shog. Between Etja’s memory and my ability to hunt out open space with Coordinated Thinker, we were tunneling pretty quickly. Before long I found an open chamber and directed the party toward it.

After digging through a quarter mile of stone, we encountered a mana barrier that kept us from advancing. We burrowed around it for a while, eventually finding a way into the room, and I took the lead as we broke down the last bit of stone.

We found ourselves in a well-lit chamber covered in gold, gemstone, and a botanical garden’s worth of plant life. Thematically, it matched the hall we’d found when first entering the Delve proper after killing The Pit. There were two spheres of dark metal, one on either side of the chamber, about the size of a small house. Each sphere had a hole cut into its side, large enough for a person to pass through.

At the room’s center floated a simple two-handed axe, the kind made for splitting firewood. The handle and axehead were made from the dark metal of the Delves, and a potent aura emanated from it, although it was neither sinister nor benevolent. It simply was.

Behind the axe was a painted statue made of the same smooth material as the sculpture of Deijin Nuralie and I had encountered. It had a canine face but with a snout long and narrow like a crocodile. Its body was lean, covered in graceful, rippling musculature. Its four limbs ended in wide paws tipped with long, curved talons, and a pair of stone wings were folded down upon its back. Its tail was short and rounded as though it had been clipped when it was young, and it lay curled around itself like a sleeping cat.

It was also the size of an elephant.

As the last of us entered the room, the statue’s eyes opened. Slitted irises rolled over us, and a soul halo emerged, bright and potent but with the synthetic feel of the souls from back in the endless loop. It yawned, a flat, coarse tongue sticking out from between hooked teeth. Then, it sat back on its haunches, front talons carving deep grooves into the stone like it was made of butter. It smacked its lips as I identified it.

Icon of the Psychopomp: Automaton, Grade 30.

“Candidates,” it said. The Icon paused and cleared its throat with a deep rumble that rattled my armor. “Welcome to your challenge, the final test by which you’re tried. Though this is unlike others, its success is yours to guide. An appraisal of conviction, merely asks that you decide. Which ones of us shall live, and which one of us shall die?”