Chapter 169: Brick into marble

Chapter 169: Brick into marble

Ilya watched the demon fall with wide eyes. It roared in fury and scratched at the stone, beating its mangled wings uselessly until a huge crash made Ilya jump. Then nothing.

[Hidden Objective completed: Assist Blake Nimitz to destroy your captor. Reward: The line of Vori becomes a Highborn bloodline.]

[Title gained: Tower Highborn. +2 to all statistics. Improved resistance and power potence against all demons. This is a lineage title.]

Ilya dropped to her knees and stared at the Gods' message, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. To be considered Highborn amongst her people was to be a part of the ruling caste. It meant living in the high towers with the elite. It meant prestige and comfort and all the best her people had to offer.

The tower lords themselves would seek her as a mate for no other reason. That she was now an Oracle as well...she would be the matriarch of a great clan. The tower lords would cast aside their first mates just to claim her. Or, she thought with some horror, King Gromsh would take her himself.

But she blinked this away and focused her eyes on Blake, who had fallen and collapsed completely on the stone. Shielding him with Protection and using Fortify Body had taken much of her mana, but she had enough for Healing Wind.

She closed her eyes and focused, unable to see his injuries and so letting the spell wash over his whole body. Just as she finished, the cage clanged and shook and despite the message from the gods Ilya seized the bars in terror, thinking the demon had somehow risen.

Instead she found two of Blake's...living statues...ripping apart the iron bars. They tore a hole, then marched into the cage and seized Ilya roughly. She only managed a small shriek of protest before they pulled her out and leapt into the air.

* * *

Blake licked dry lips as he woke on something soft.

"Drink this." Ilya was apparently holding him in her lap. She held a small flask to his lips, and he practically grabbed it and yanked it before holding himself back and taking sips.

"Your stupid...servants, won't go get more water from my cage, so this is all I have."

Blake looked at his now only slightly mangled leg and sighed with a smile. He patted Ilya's knee.

"Nice to see you, too."

The orc girl smiled and wiped at a tear, then put a hand to Blake's face. "How did you...I mean, thank you for saving me."

"My pleasure. Well not really, it was kind of terrible. There's a river of boiling blood just back there, and an open portal to literal hell."

Ilya shook with a little laugh.

"Are you alright, Master? This Orc cast Healing Wind on you. She also Cast Fortify Body and Protection during your fight with the demon. I believe she is an ally."

Ilya startled and stared at the floating orb. It occurred to him he could have turned the thing into a ‘combat mode’ and winced at the stupidity.

"Don't worry, she's with me, and quite harmless. For now anyway.” Blake sagged into Ilya’s lap. “Thank you, Navi. And apparently thank you, Ilya, for the well timed magic. I'd guessed it was something." He groaned as he tried to sit up, then decided he was rather happy to rest where he was. "When did you start casting spells powerful enough to fight demons, anyway?"

"During my year or so of imprisonment in that cage," Ilya teased with still slightly wet eyes.

"Oh I'm sorry," Blake laughed. "I was busy killing a different demon and building a small magical army to save you. Did it take longer than I expected?"

Blake sent his constructs back to gather Ilya's things from the cage, then closed his eyes and examined the damage. His Partition was still pretty fucked up. 'Closing' it didn't seem possible, so he hoped it would just heal or that he could fix it with Meditation or something. Then he finally glanced at his notifications...

[Planar Entity: Lesser Cavaszu killed. Experience (moderate) gained.]

[Objective complete. Rescue Ilya Vori from the ancient orc mine. Reward: Forgotten Fifth Oracle Stone.]

[You have earned enough experience to reach Level 10. Please select a secondary class.]

[Title gained: Cavaszu you, too. You have slain a lesser lieutenant of hell. +1 to all mental statistics. Increased Planar Entity Killer aura.]

Well. Blake stared. Holy shit.

Warmth flooded his body, and he groaned in pleasure before opening his eyes to see Ilya illuminated with a dull green silhouette. He sighed and decided in that moment she looked like a green angel.

Mastermind made him stare and clench his teeth with an unpleasant desire. It was obviously a further specialization of his mind controlling powers, and he could hardly imagine what going beyond Mind Control looked like...

But he fought the impulse. At least for now. He was about to look at another promising class called ‘Artificer’ when he realized his new familiar might actually be useful with things like picking classes and powers...

“Navi...what can you tell me about classes? Like the Kineticist."

The little robot blinked. "Quite a lot, master. The Kineticist is a Psionic/Arcane caster class that focuses on Intellect and Vitality. It is capable of considerable mental protection and destruction of the physical world. But can be very mana intensive and vulnerable to magic."

Blake smiled, increasingly pleased with his little familiar. Picking a class was a huge decision and every scrap of information helped. 'Mana intensive' sounded like a problem. Because of Blake's lower mana pool due to his constructs, he knew he needed to be as efficient as possible.

"And the Artificer?"

"Another Psionic/Arcane caster class, Master, which requires Intellect, Presence, and Will. It can produce and modify an almost unlimited number of magical objects. Very powerful in theory, but requires the correct recipes, preparation, and resources."

Blake let out a long breath, not really needing a more detailed description of Psionic Knight or Mastermind. There were other options, of course, all of which he'd seen at level one. But the real choices were really Psionic Knight, Artificer, or Kineticist.

All had pros and cons, but Blake remained confident that specialty was the right choice in a game like this. What synergies might he find? What enhancements might an item based class give him to modify his constructs?

It may not be the sexiest choice, but his gut told him Artificer. He chose, and watched the text scroll.

[Gained Class: Artificer. Synergy discovered: Psionic Making ===> True Making.]

[Gained Power: True Making: The art of turning brick into marble. Can you outshine the Makers of old?]

The power glowed slightly in his vision, and he considered opening it right there to see how it had changed.

“Blake?” Ilya called from above, sounding somewhat concerned. He supposed he’d been gone awhile without calling to her.

“I’m alright,” he shouted, “just exploring the bottom.”

He left the power alone for now. There’d be time to test his suddenly upgraded-upgraded creation abilities later. Instead he walked the filthy walls of the demon’s pit, finally coming to a simple altar covered in runes.

He blinked at the symbols, for a moment no idea what they meant before they almost glowed and burned into his sight like he was staring at the sun. Then just like that, he understood them.

[Hidden Class Feature Discovered: Runic Identification.]

He saw the text and decided it wasn’t terribly ‘hidden’, but supposed circumstances were just right. Turned out the altar had an Arcane enchantment of Teleportation, and would take him to the entrance of the dungeon. He knew it as plainly as he knew the alphabet or decimals, just as he knew how to activate it.

As he made the realization, a pleasant voice intoned in his mind.

[Please leave the dungeon in twenty four hours or less, or you will be transported.]

He ignored it as the excitement of discovery still raced through him, feeling as if he’d gained a new sense that would tell him how reality truly was—like Leeuwenhoek discovering microorganisms, and a whole world beyond human eyes.

But if faded quickly, replaced by a sobering reminder of his own ignorance. And of his powerlessness in this insane new world.

It’s just a game, he told himself, clenching a fist. A game with rules that are getting clearer to me by the second.

There were no ‘Makers’, no world history, because it was all invented a couple months before. He wasn’t sure anymore what his goal was. Before it had been so clear—to form some kind of kingdom and ‘win’.

But win what? And how? ‘Biological imperatives’, the machine had said. ‘Survival and procreation’. But those goals were so basic as to be almost laughable. Just being ‘alive’ wasn’t adequate. And procreation wasn’t difficult for a man like Blake, even before he had mind powers. So what exactly to do?

It was still a game, yes, and he still wanted to win. But he wasn’t sure anymore what the teams were. Who the enemy was. Mason thought anyone that wasn’t him or Blake or maybe their lovers were the enemy. But Blake wasn’t so sure. He looked up at Ilya, thinking of all the orc minds he’d touched, then of the horror of the demon lying not far away.

Whatever the enemy was—it wasn’t orcs, not when things like that demon existed. He clenched the stone in his pocket, then gestured for his constructs to go get Ilya and bring her down.

Killing Gromsh was still his plan because the system had taken away his choice in that. Likely first he had to understand his powers and do what he could to master them with the time he had left. But after that...after that, he just wasn’t sure.