Time Since Reckless Self-Endangerment: 4 Days 9 Hours

Goal: Save Tarquin

Nic blinked slowly. There was a second layer of translucent membrane beneath his eyelid, and that blinked too, flickering over his view.

You have discovered

Lore Fragment of the Scales of Sand

200 Essence Awarded

Discover four Lore Fragments to bind and weaken the Guardian ‘Chimeric Soul-Drinker'

“Sofia-” Nic began.

“Logos is a monster. I won’t defend him. I know you think of me as part of the System, but there is a world of difference between Logos and Pathos.”

He felt the bile rising. They didn’t seem so different when Pathos was killing people for her experiments into Sophonts. “And what is Pathos doing about him, then?”

“Trying. Nic, you of all people should know. All we can do is try our best.”

“You know-” Nic flopped back, sighing. The sun was overhead. It was meant to be a good day. A minute ago he’d been basking in the heat and light and thinking of how quickly he’d be leaving this valley.

Now he worried this place might just leave a mark.

“You know, this cultivating shit. It was meant to be freeing. Like, I thought I was getting away from all my troubles.” The way he’d felt when that notification had sounded in his head. It was still, even now, the single most electrifying moment of his life. “A new life. A new start. Now I keep getting mixed up in people’s crap. Elves, humans, long dead races of desert-dwelling people with a serious obsession for animal-headed women. I don’t like to complain buuuut….”

“You could be free. All you’d have to do is stop caring. The people who left that message are long dead, Nicolas. You could forget about them and nothing would change. I’m not saying you should- but as long as you care about people this easily, you’ll be entangled wherever you go. Part of cultivating is hardening your heart.”

“Well. I’m shit at that part, then.” Nic let the centipede crawl out of its tattoo, emerging from his arm. It stared at the lizard with its beady eyes, and the lizard stared back, tongue flickering over it’s lips. “Oy. You two. You two are friends now, so no eating one another.”

They both turned towards him. Clearly considering a mutiny.

“I’m big so I make the rules.” He leaned over and tapped both on the head.

“That’s generally how it works, yes.”

“Sofia…”

“Yes?”

The centipede was swaying, slowly tilting its head back and forth as the lizard stared it down. The blue tongue flickered out from between its mandibles.

The lizard hissed and extended its frills.

“When I go back, I want to make my own… thing.” Nic had chewed the thought over. He missed- what he’d seen in the dream. Not just Tawley and the others, but the sense of belonging. “I need a home, and I need other people.”

“Yes, you’re effective on your own - but you don’t know how to stop. For instance. Where are we?”

“We’re…” He waved a hand in the air. “In some kind of burial ground for dead kings?”

“We’re at the bottom of a valley of the undead. Within a dungeon. Within a foreign planet. I’d say that I’d expect you to find a shovel and start digging your way into a hidden cave beneath the valley any moment now, but Nicolas, we have already been there.”

He lifted a finger.

And curled it back down. “Point. Point.” Shit. She had a point.

A golden beetle scuttled between his two companions, accidentally breaking the stalemate. Instantly the lizard and the centipede dove for it, and then they were brawling, the centipede trying to wrap around the Pyrewarden as the feisty little lizard bit and kicked and scratched with it sling claws.

“Okay, wait. I got myself into this forrrr… a Spatial Pillar Credit.” He turned over and scratched it in the dirt. “Which I get by being the first to clear this Dungeon. Which gives me some kind of special residence? Or the right to start a settlement.”

He paused.

“And honestly, I don’t think I can clear this the intended way. The Guardian was too strong to take in a fair fight. The four false gods, or whatever, the one I saw was way too big. And they’re just appetizers to the boss.”

“Correct. Keep going.”

“So either I’ve got to find a way to cheat-” He bit his finger. “Weren’t the elves looking for some kind of weapon? Maybe I could use that. But if I can’t kill the boss, my other option would be hunting down the Heretic. That quest also offered a Spatial Pillar Credit….”

His sketches in the sand grew increasingly elaborate.

In the background the centipede had managed to wind around the lizard, and it kicked helplessly, whining at its defeat.

“Redjaw, Sunfire, cut it out.” He reached over and pulled the wriggled centipede away. Full of wounded pride, the lizard rolled onto its feet and hissed.

“Oh, yeah. You’re Redjaw now.” He ran a finger down the smooth interlocking plates of black that armored the centipede. “And you’re Sunfire.” He rubbed at the ridge of soft spines over the little lizard’s eyebrow. “And you both need to knock it off before I stuff you back in the tattoos.”

They made sounds of protest as he set them back down on separate rocks.

“Okay. Sofia. Update on the Heretic quest.”

“Blood-Soaked Sands”

Logos created the Sand Devils when his weapons of war distorted common creatures to terrifying new forms. Now, an interloper studies this transformation and attempts to improve on it. This heretical research must be ended.

Destroy the Ascended Sand Devils (1/6)

(Optional) Slay the Heretic (0/1)

Rewards- Moonseal Credit and Spatial Pillar Credit.

4 Days Until the Inquisitor Arrives.

“Four days…” Technically, the Heretic was an optional part of the quest. But he suspected the Inquisitor would probably destroy the ascended sand devils too. After all, they were heretical work. “Try to finish the quest in four days, or search for this ‘nuclear fire’ and try to blow up the boss with it...”

He sighed and straightened his back, loosened his shoulder, and slipped into a more meditative state of mind to work on the question. He casually begin to rotate his cultivation, sending waves of energy flowing back and forth in ripples through his body, collecting up sparks of Essence and drawing them back into the core.

Essence 5,234 / 5,234

+ 12.97 per Minute

(2.162 Base)

500% Local Modifier

+ Devoured an F-Class enemy (200%)

+ Consumed a G-Class treasure (100%)

+ Rested in toxic environment (100%)

Cultivation Base (Unranked)

V Physical Strength (Locked)

III Mental Acuity (73/4,000)*

I Spiritual Clarity (96/1,000)*

Regeneration (6,908/10,000)

Nic made a sour face.

Unfortunately, thanks to passing out after fighting the Guardian-

He’d actually wasted quite a bit of Essence gain. It was a loss that made Nic sigh, although he’d at least managed to fill his Mourner’s Lantern during the mad fight for the peach tree.

There was one small compensation. His Essence pool had increased, as if the overflow had pushed it to expand ever-so-slightly. Since that would also increase his aura, he couldn’t call it a complete loss. Just a bad investment.

Not having his Regeneration at a higher level was becoming a real barrier. Since his entire fighting style, was, well, dying slower than the enemy, the speed at which he could piece himself back together was a major constraint. It would also become important in fights against hordes, such as the ghouls lurking in the valley’s high paths. When every foe might leave a shallow wound or two the speed at which he could shrug off those small cuts would determine whether he’d succeed.

For those reasons - even though he really wanted to experience another of the strange visions cultivating a Base Enhancement to the maximum rank brought on - he chose to feed his energy into Regeneration. At the same time, he absorbed the raw power from his Mourner’s Lantern to start working on Mental Acuity.

As the Essence was slowly absorbed into the corresponding nodes of each ability, Nic opened his eyes. His Regeneration had broken through and small scars were disappearing all over his skin.

“I was right all along. I have to kill Baby Boots.”

“What?”

“He’s the only one who could kill the boss before me. Well, him and Sula, and Sula doesn’t care. Racing to kill the sand devils before the Inquisitor arrives is just insane- those things are incredibly strong.” He had some thoughts, but he’d prefer not to risk them. Slowing down just a little opened up his options enough that he didn’t need to take every lousy fight he saw. “But as long as I don’t slack off and keep getting stronger, I bet I can take the boss on before anyone else reaches that level. If they’re not clearing zones in the desert they must be pretty weak right now.”

“Ah. And Baby Boots- er, Dean, might be the only competitor in the zone with a head start on you. With him out of the way you could take your time.”

“Right. And he might be tough, but he didn’t grow up like I did. He won’t know how to watch his back. I’ll just ambush him.” Nic nodded. It was going to be way easier to spring a trap on an overconfident Native than handle the boss who had nothing to do but prepare for challengers to come.

“Plus, I’ll need to find a way into the human camp to begin with if I want to hear Tarquin’s message, or deliver Sula’s peace treaty. All roads lead that way. I might as well check off Baby Boots while I’m there.”

“Tarquin being in danger has really focused you, Nicolas. I’m not happy at the cost- but I am glad to see you this way.” He could hear the pride in her voice.

“It’s not just Tarquin. That vision…” Nic shook his head. “I remembered who I used to be, I guess. Back when all I could see was the Marchesa’s Legion. I was a little less reckless.”

“A little.” He felt humor creep into her voice. “I do see a recording of you killing a dire wolf by shoving your arm down its throat and making it choke… after it had chewed the limb off at the shoulder.”

“It was a dream-body.” Nic retorted.

“And you were twelve at the time.”

“Trust me I regretted it.”

“You did scream quite a lot. Continuously, in fact. Until your dream body discorporated.”

“Well…” Nic scratched the back of his head. “I did get top marks.”

“And a quiet referral for a mental scan.”

That brought him up short. “... what did it find?”

“Hmm.”

“What, you’re not going to tell me?”

“If I told you, you wouldn’t listen. It says right here. ‘Refuses to listen to authority’.”

“Oh don’t worry Sofia. I don’t think of you as an authority.” He said, tone all false sweetness.

And as she spluttered in outrage, he lifted his new companions around his arm and onto his shoulders, setting out across the desert.

Two fountains down. One remaining.