Join my Patreon for access to advance chapters :)

Prowling through the forest with Bastet at my side, I feel a lot more confident. I feel like my afternoon yesterday was really productive when it came to improving my archery. Yes, I know that traditionally archers on Earth would have to practise for years to become decent, let alone good. An afternoon compared to that is nothing. Not even enough to learn how to stand properly.

I have a few advantages those would-be archers don’t have, however. First is from the hunting knowledge stone: memories of having learned to shoot, and then doing it again and again literally thousands of times. The second is an Intelligence score which, at a ten, is starting to get up there with humanity’s smartest. Humanity on Earth’s smartest, at least.

That doesn’t suddenly make me into an Einstein, but it appears to improve my ability to make connections between subjects, observe what is going wrong, and adapt to my mistakes. Either way, I found that my leaning process was a lot quicker than I remember it being at university and during training courses at work. Probably the time I spent going through my ‘memories’ ahead of actually starting helped too. Plus, it actually earned me a point in Intelligence, so I’m not complaining about that. Fortunately for me, it was a point that didn’t require any Energy as I didn’t have enough in stock.

By this point, I’m pretty sure that it only offers me a point that requires Energy if I actually have enough, otherwise it just keeps going until I’ve earned the point ‘naturally’. Considering it’s been several days since I earned my previous Intelligence point, I’m not surprised that I’ve gained another so soon. Just more evidence that the points I use on level-up don’t affect my progress towards points being ‘earned’.

Either way, I think I’ve become addicted to looking at my status sheet. It’s just...seeing evidence of my progress in a numerical form is just so satisfying. Maybe it’s my history from working in Human Resources: I like data sheets. Being able to properly quantify someone with one is almost a dream come true. OK, a sad dream, I’ll admit it – I never intimated all my desires were noble, high-reaching ones. When we stop for a short break for me to recoup my stamina, I pull the screen up again.

status screen

With Fade effectively reduced from using four units to using two units of stamina per minute now that my regeneration is also two units per minute, I can keep the Skill going for as much as thirty minutes now – in theory. That doesn’t tend to work in practice, though, as I also use stamina to travel. Fortunately, that’s at a much lower rate. I don’t want to completely bottom out, either – if I do, I won’t be very fit for a fight if it came down to one. The mana cost is effectively free, considering Fade takes only one unit per minute and I’m regenerating more than four.

I find it funny that despite having quite a wide range of stat values to begin with, I now have four stats at twelve, and one at eleven… I know that focussing on two or three stats to almost the exclusion of others is the best way to become really proficient in certain areas; by distributing my stats pretty equally, I risk becoming a jack-of-all-trades, resulting in being master of none. That said, I’d rather be an alive master-of-none, than a dead expert simply because I didn’t have enough health points or stamina points or strength to deal with whatever attack comes next.

When my stamina bar refills, only taking just over twenty minutes now with my new regeneration, we set off through the forest again. Bastet had gone scouting while I was resting, and sends me an image of my destination when she returns. It looks clear and is accompanied by a cautious sense of safety. I agree with the caution – it may look safe for now, but we need to be sure.

As we walk closer, I consider something else I’d noticed on my status screen – my increased absorption rate. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t as high as thirteen the last time I came through here. What’s changed? Has the Energy density of the area increased – can it do that? - or have I changed? To monitor, I guess.

We’re here. I see a gaping mouth which makes me shudder again in remembrance of the last time I was here. The dry leaves covering the ground beneath the copse of dead trees crunch and crackle under my feet. The hole in the ground from which had previously burst a monster out of my nightmares looks empty and abandoned.

Leaves have fallen, or been blown by wind, into the hole scraped into the ground. I exchange a glance with Bastet and with a whisper the raptorcat slinks down the tunnel, her camouflage-like fur blending easily into the shadows.

It’s not long before she returns, indicating that the the beginning at least is free of enemies. I scoot down the slope on my bum, not want to risk the cubs slung on my chest by going down on all fours and potentially falling to squish them. Yes, we’ve brought the cubs. I asked what Kalanthia would need as payment, and was confused by the response. It looks like some sort of glowing crystal and she wants one small one for each cub per day, or one big one for all three. I can’t even tell the proper size because Kalanthia’s so much larger than me that what feels as ‘small’ to her could easily be as big as my head. Equally, it could be the size of my fist.

Since I don’t currently have any idea of what the things are, or where to get them, I don’t want to rack up any debt by leaving the cubs with her when I can’t pay the cost. And yes, I did ask her where to find them, but her response was unhelpful – apparently they’re in animals. But not in all animals, only some animals. Useful. Anyway, the point is that I have the cubs with me, so I’ll have to be careful if we get into any unexpected fights.

Down at the bottom, I take a moment to pull one of my pre-made torches out of my Inventory. I’d used some rags from one of my previously sacrificed shirts and wrapped them around the end of a freshly-cut stick. Then, after covering the wrapped end with some of my magic pitch, I let them harden. It takes a little bit of time and effort to light the hardened resin-product now, but once it catches light, the torch burns steadily.

Multi-usage tools for the win: it gives light, it’s a handy weapon against any animals afraid of fire, and it’s a good indication of if the oxygen level drops too low. I don’t know what I’m walking into, after all. With the bark cord also in my Inventory and several days worth of food and water – since I filled all my unused pots with water and stuck them into my Inventory too – I feel pretty prepared for the expedition.

Especially so since by the end of my archery practice yesterday I was hitting the target every time and usually within a few fingers of where I was aiming. Sure, I didn’t hit the ‘bull’s eye’ very often, but my accuracy is most definitely much better now than my poor showing yesterday morning. Let’s hope it will be enough. I’ve got my mace and knife too anyway.

The earthen tunnels don’t look entirely natural. I screw up my face in thought as I put the torch closer to the walls, floor and ceiling to try to work it out. I’m no topographer, but the marks in all three area look dug, though not by spades. My tracking knowledge would tell me that the marks were probably made by some sort of burrowing insect or a giant mole – the scrapes could be attributed to either. Between the two, I’d probably prefer a giant mole.

Suddenly, there’s a rustling, scraping sound ahead of us. We’re both immediately on our guard and I quickly drop the torch to the ground and pull an arrow from my quiver as Bastet slinks to the side, blending in perfectly with the wall. We wait, the rustling sound getting closer.

My torchlight picks up something rushing towards us, a carpet of movement shown only by the odd glimmers here and there that reflect back at me. It’s very low to the ground, but fills the tunnel, even going slightly up the sides. I start wondering whether it’s something living at all: maybe it’s an oil spill or something?

About to grab my light source and run back, I realise when the creeping mass enters the pool of illumination shed by my torch that it’s not some sort of liquid; it’s alive. But it’s not one creature either. It’s worse.

Clicking towards me, the rustling and scraping sound caused by their chitinous bodies rubbing against each other, are too many little spider-monsters to count. I have to fight the urge to turn and run even though I know now that it’s not flammable oil coming down the passageway. Instead, I quickly return my arrow to the quiver and grab my mace instead: with this number and type of enemy, I need crushing power rather than accuracy.

I mean, perhaps Legolas would be able to destroy this horde with the power of his bow alone, but I’m not quite at his legendary level yet. If these are anything like the massive one I fought before, I’m unlikely to have the accuracy necessary to pierce them all through their eyes. No, my upgraded mace should do the job.

As the first one gets close, I swing downwards with my mace, aiming to crack its shell. When the mace hits, I’m surprised by the result. It doesn’t crack the shell. Instead it obliterates the creature entirely. Seriously, my well-aimed strike hits it full on its back and just goes straight through, rebounding off the ground. Good to know that my increases in Dexterity apparently don’t only affect my accuracy with bows.

My surprise makes me stumble. I’d braced myself to prepare for the mace rebounding off the shell; with it having pounded straight through, I find myself off-balance. Blinking even as I quickly regain my footing, I shrug and decide not to look a gift-horse in the mouth. If these creatures are significantly easier than their parent – probably – to kill, I’m not going to complain. Almost humming a tune, I start swinging at the other creatures which have surrounded me.

My mace goes through them just as easily and I start wreaking mass-destruction among the mini spider-monsters. Oddly enough, I’m surrounded, but the monsters behind me aren’t trying to attack. Instead, those that get past Bastet and me are just making a break for the entrance.

Something clicks. They aren’t just mini insect-spiders, they’re babies. It would be much easier if I could see the names of these things and their levels floating above them in a handy box, but life isn’t that kind. However, the longer I’m fighting these things, the more convinced I am that I’m right. They’re not even really fighting me, only the ones closest to me trying to bite. In fact, I almost feel bad attacking them when considering the weapons I have compared to their relative helplessness.

Then I remember the insect-spider I killed before and my heart hardens. If I have to kill a whole load of innocent babies to avoid having more of those adults around, it’s burdensome task I’m willing to take on.

By the time the last of the baby spider-monster things is past us, I’m panting, but surprisingly in one piece for having been in a fight. Miracle of miracles, my clothes are even still intact! It’s hard to count how many insect-spiders we killed between the two of us since the vast majority are shattered bodies on the ground, but it has to be upwards of a hundred. When I check my status, however, I’ve only gained about fifteen percent Energy towards my next level.

Whether that’s because the amount of Energy for one percent has drastically increased, or these creatures were worth very little Energy, I don’t know. Probably a mixture of the two, to be honest. I’m not quite sure how this whole Energy thing works yet, but it definitely seems that the more dangerous the creature, the more Energy I get when killing them. These creatures stood no chance against me, and couldn’t even pose any sort of threat. It’s not surprising then that I’ve gained little from their deaths.

I don’t bother collecting anything from these carcasses. Bastet licks one of them and then sends a wave of disgust down our Bond: apparently these things don’t agree with her either. Fortunately, the torch has managed to stay lit despite the number of creatures stepping around and on it. Picking it up, I tiptoe gingerly through the mess, making a face at the nasty gooey feeling under my feet. If these shoes hadn’t already been covered by blood and mud, I’d have despaired of ever getting the stains of these insect things out. As it is, I just continue walking up the tunnel.

My light catches on something ahead and I squint as I try to spot what it is.