AN: So, we have returned with another exciting installment of Galactic Fist of Legend. :)

I realize that you'll all probably have a metric shit ton of questions about some of what is shown in this chapter. I'll answer as best I can, but some of it would be spoilers. Remember, the MC in this tale doesn't really know how this world works entirely, only a vague idea of what to expect now. So, it's seen through his eyes, but from a third person perspective. We'll learn as he does.

I tried to finish this up after not sleeping for 24 hours, and then taking a short nap. My headache is real, so if you see a lot of random types or whatever, please let me know. Anyway. I think I'll take another nap, now. Lol.

Chapter 21: Oh, How Comfy

The stirring of dust, and the shifting of rubble signified the return of life, or at least its semblance. Scott rose from the floor slowly, his body creaked and protested at the abuse it felt. The simple act of regaining his feet was a tremendous burden.

"Dammit, every time I die, I come back weaker," he muttered. The second death came during his outburst of laughter. He deserved it, but now felt weaker than the first time he died.

"How the hell do I make it out of here if I have to stagger like a fucking zombie?" he asked, before he started forward. His body moved in jerking motions, like rigor mortis had set in on a fresh corpse.

It felt like hours passed for the man as he made his way down the tunnel. The pattern of movement from the rise and fall of his feet came at odd intervals. Every few dozen steps he had to stop and lean heavily against the wall.

Scott fought back against the frustration, and the fear, welling up inside. He was no fanboy of this supposed series. He'd played dark souls and its sequels, but he was not one of those people who obsessed over it. For him, simply completing the games and farting around with different character builds was all he truly ever did. He did not even bother with the PVP element of game play very often. For that matter, he didn't even bother with too many of the side quests in most of the games.

He took a deep breath then calmed himself. "It might not be Dark Souls, but it's similar. Don't play into the hype, man. Those games were never really difficult for you, just a test of patience, memory, and timing. Think, Scott. Think."

The creaking and wheezing champion was troubled even to think clearly, however. Those two deaths in rapid succession had done something to him, something that concerned him greatly. It was like every aspect of his being had been greatly reduced.

Eventually, he made his way back to the fork in the tunnel. He immediately chose to go left this time, after collecting his lost EXP. The sight of two dead versions of himself lying on the ground made his skin crawl. The second one looked sort of dehydrated, like the vital fluids of his body had been drawn out of him.

Dismissing the morbid thoughts that entered his mind, he continued on to the left. At least that route would lead to something different. His movements were jerky, but he did his best to move quietly. The last thing that he wanted to do was alert the axe wielding asshole up above on the right.

The new direction led him to a precipice overlooking a dark underground river. On the other side there were several corpses and a few glowing lights.

"Shit," mumbled Scott under his breath. How deep was the water? Was there something living in the river? How fast did it flow? He had no answer to any of these questions. Not from his current vantage point.

Scott leaned over the side of the ridge that he stood on and looked down. There was no sign of movement, but in the dark it was hard to see. The fungus lit up the area, but it also cast long shadows that hid many secrets.

After searching the area, he found a dangerous route down to the ground below. He hopped down to a ledge to the left side of the ridge. The shock of the feel caused him to gasp aloud. The life seemingly drained from his body due to the impact. It was a disturbing, and frightful sensation.

"Dammit. I'll kill myself, before I even get down there," he muttered. The sort of drops he now took, were the type of thing that he would have completely ignored before. For that matter, with his hit points intact he would have simply leapt from the top ledge. He suspected what few of them that he had left after multiple deaths, were not enough to keep him from serious injury if he tried such a thing.

The next drop was shorter, and caused no extensive pain. However the final drop was twice the distance of the first. Scott bit his lower lip then growled a little. It was a dangerous prospect, but what choice did he have?

After a moment of reflection, he hopped down then gasped loudly then his feet struck the ground. Intense pain radiated up through his body, and the shock of the impact caused him to fall back onto his corpse white ass.

Humiliation added to injury, he landed on a bit of rusting metal that caused him to hiss out a string of obscenities. Why were shards of metal just lying around in the one place his ass had landed?

Scott hesitatingly pulled the offending materials from his ass while he took in his surroundings. There was not likely to be anything down here, outside of the river. If there was, it would have come for him with all the noise he'd made. Still, there was no sense in not at least attempting some level of caution.

Nearby he saw something that would be potentially useful. Some of the fungus had grown up on a fallen stalagmite. He lifted up the heavy stone implement, and used it like a torch. Before trying to cross the river, he searched every corner of the area on his side of it.

Behind a large pile of debris, he found one of the little glowing lights. Uncertain what to make of it, the only thing he could do was touch it to see what would happen. The only alternative was to ignore it altogether.

Hesitantly, he reached down and poked his finger into the gently roiling mass of light. The moment that his finger reached the center of that chilling light, he became aware of something new. Words appeared inside his head. It was not the message screens that he was used to, but something similar.

Vial of Lesser Spiritus

In days lost in the mist of time, a certain alchemist discovered the means of extracting the sin of the fallen. In his research, he discovered a method to purify that sin into the purity of true essence and in so doing created the means to quickly heal from any wound.

Scott blinked as the misty bit of light flared brightly then flowed into his hand. The sibilant whisperer from before, spoke again, "Think of it strongly to call it forth, and to know its power."

He followed the advice of the hidden whispered. It took a moment to get the visualization right, but once he did, an image appeared inside his head. It was of a clear vial, with a dark red liquid inside. Next to it words and numbers appeared.

Vial of Lesser Spiritus

Potency Level: 1/6

Essence Cost: 0/100

EXP Cost: 0/3

Usage: Life Force Restoration

Dosage: 3/3

Restoration: 1.25 – 4.5 [Vitality]

"What... What the hell does that all mean?" he asked quietly. The chatty whisperer did not seem interested in answering his question. Still, what exactly was one-point two-five vitality for restoration supposed to mean? Did it restore one hundred twenty-five percent of his health?

There was only one way to find out. The worst that could happen is his horrible death, right? Scott focused in his new item and soon it appeared in his hand. It was weird, like the thing was hiding inside of his body somehow.

Scott pulled the stopped out of the top then took a healthy drink. A golden light flared outward from his body. He soon felt good, incredibly good. It was like every ache and pain in his body disappeared in a flash. He still looked a bit desiccated, but there was no hint of pain anywhere within him.

"Man, what a rush..." said Scott. How did this thing even work? How much of his health or hit points had it actually healed? The healing pills and potions he was used to did not cause such a feeling.

The damage done by dropping down to this floor was completely healed. Scott, breathed a sigh of relief and then moved toward the river. It was time to see if he could cross.

As it turned out, the dangerous seeming water was quite shallow. No denizens of the deep rose up to devour him. On the other side of the waterway, he discovered four more glowing spirit masses that became items, and a new tunnel entrance.

Scott inspected his new finds, just like before. He started with what appeared to be a knight's shield, designed in the kite style.

Hartford's Shield of Broken Dreams

A young boy once desired to become a noble paladin, of bringing the light of justice to the wicked and the lawless. His great dream was to become a shining shield for all people of good heart, a protector to keep back the terror of the dark.

In time the boy grew into a man. He descended into the earth in search of evil to smite. In the hateful darkness of the underworld; his shield, his dream, and ultimately his spirit, were broken.

"Poor bastard," said Scott. He looked back at the corpse, rather the brittle skeletal remains, he had taken the light from. After a moment of silence he looked to the information provided for his new shield.

Hartford's Shield of Broken Dreams

Level: 1/3

Essence Cost: 0/24

EXP Cost: 0/1

Durability: 65/65

Weight:18.7

Physical Defense: 12-14

Arcane Defense: 3-4

Mystic Defense: 4-6

Defense Bonus: 0.7[Resilience]

Special: Repel the Wicked [D][Faith][Charisma]

The information provided was as strange as before. When he focused on individual components like Physical Defense, new information appeared. The defensive power of the item would then show as protection against slashing weapons, or things like fire and celestial damage. There were also defense notation areas wherein the item was meant to show information for an increase in defense against a special type of problem.

For instance, it did not increase defense against poison or disease, and so the main information section did not show it. The information was available on deeper focus, however. Scott assumed that if the item did have a special defense stat for those types of issues, they would be shown more clearly.

It was a lot to take in at the moment and he was a bit lost, but some of it seemed intuitive. He looked into it further, and at least discovered what the special option meant.

Repel the Wicked

[Faith][Charisma]

The light of a valorous heart will force back the wicked. Woe be to any wickedness that cannot resist the power of the faithful!

Faith Damage: 1.45 - 2.1

Special: Paralyze Undead – 0.25

Cost: 46

He looked his other items over. The next item of interest was the sword that he had found. Unlike the shield, it was somewhat basic and did not come with a special option.

Jert's Ancient Broadsword

Once there was a mighty warrior named Jert. He went on many adventures with his favorite blade ever at the ready, but he died alone screaming for his mother. This is the sword that failed him in his time of need.

"Oh, that sounds promising," said Scott sarcastically. Just what he needed in his life. A sword that reminds him about how badly the last user died while wielding it.

Jert's Ancient Broadsword

Level: 1/4

Essence Cost: 0/73

EXP Cost: 0/2

Durability: 60/60

Weight: 5

Physical Attack: 8-14

Attack Bonus: 1.1[Strength]

"Damn, why is this shit so complex? I'm surprised they don't have a stat for how well I wipe my ass, at this point," grumbled Scott. Most of the items showed basic information at first glance, but upon further inspection dozens of other things would begin to pop up. The sword, for instance, showed physical attack. However, if he focused more strongly he could see the amount of damage it could resist when blocking.

Almost everything listed on the mental images that he saw, had a sub-listing. Some of those sub-listings had sub-listings as well. It was insane. Who could keep track of all of that information? What's more, every single item had its own lore associated with it.

The last of the two items were a simple pair of underwear, and a shirt. Yet, they too had their own lore.

Ashley's Purple Lace Panties +3

A warrior's heart can often be tempted by the naughtiness of carnal desire. Ashley knew this well. Beneath her red leather clad exterior lurked the panties of a woman who sought dangers of a different kind.

"No defense boost, but it increases faith for some reason... That's sort of like charisma for me." Scott eyed the sexy panties for a moment. He could use the boost, but dammit...

"My heart's just not ready," he said after a moment.

Scott chuckled slightly then said, "Though, I would have liked to have met Ashley."

Any woman who would upgrade her panties three times was alright in Scott's book. However, there was more to see. The final item was a simple cotton shirt. It had its own name and backstory, but it provided nothing of further use.

Cody's Lightly Stained Cotton Wife Beater

A simple shirt, for a simple man. Worn on alternate Tuesday's, Cody would strut around town in his sleeveless white shirt, get drunk, and occasionally scream at the stars when night came. His constant cries of, "Stellar!" still haunt those who knew him.

Scott equipped most of his new items. The panties remained buried within him, a dark secret shared with no one. His arms immediately fell downward, and he nearly lost his grip on his shield and sword. "God damn, this shit's heavy!"

His injuries were healed, but he was still weak from the repeated deaths. It was a struggle to move quickly, so he unequipped his sword and allowed it to fade back inside his body. Where it went when it did that, he still did not know. The shield soon followed after he picked up his makeshift torch

Onward, the tunnel beckoned him. He continued onward at a slow, methodical, pace. He listened intently to every noise, every hint of movement. The tunnel eventually gave way to a small open area. Slipped to the right and followed the cavern wall while searching the room with his eyes.

The creak of ancient bones alerted him to danger. He equipped his shield then struggled to lift it as he advanced forward. Suddenly, a loud cry split the air. A rust-encrusted meat clever descended toward him from above. It took every ounce of strength he could muster to slam his shield upward to meet it.

A dull clang rang outward from the impact. Scott was knocked back a bit, but the attacker hit the ground hard. The weird little monkey skeleton thing struggled to rise up, Scott recovered quickly enough to bash it with his torch. Knocked down once more, the beast gave the rapidly tiring champion just enough time to drop his torch and pull his blade.

The weight of sword and shield were immense at the moment. He did not know what the numbers meant next to the weight stat, but he'd assumed it was pounds. Either his deaths had weakened more than he'd thought, or his guess for the weight was wrong.

Scott lifted his sword, but let the force of gravity do the damage. His blade fell limply and struck the beast across the back. It tried to get up with greater speed, after it took damage, but Scott slapped the bottom of his kite shield down on the same spot to keep it down.

The bony little monkey never seemed to realize that it could attack him while lying down, and Scott capitalized as best he could. His sword rose and fell several times before any real damage occurred.

Shrieks and outcries of rage were the monkey thing's only response as Scott continued to asthmatically pummel it with weak gravity assisted sword strikes. At roughly the tenth strike, the angry little howling thing finally stopped moving.

Several motes of light rose up from the corpse then floated toward Scott. However, part of the way to their destination they converged toward a single spot then faded away. A number, 2.5, emblazoned in bright green, hovered briefly in the air for a moment then disappeared as well.

"That guy was worth two and a half EXP..." Scott realized the sort of difficult that lay ahead for him now. Even the 100mph crack head zombies that ran in screaming were only worth twice that much.

He took a moment to catch his breath, and then tried to pick up the cleaver that the monkey had used. It immediately turned to dust. There was no loot for this fight, it seemed. Reluctantly, he moved on.

The tunnel led to another room, this one was filled with old crates and barrels. Never one to look a possible gift horse in the mouth, Scott searched through them all. In the far corner, behind a set of busted crates, he saw another glowing item. He picked it up then curiously sought the answer to what it was.

Memories of a Forgotten Soldier

Lost, alone in the dark, the forgotten soldier died with regrets. Those regrets still linger in this dark place.

The so-called memories coalesced into a single marble sized sphere. After a moment of concentrated focus his eyes widened. Scott held the marble aloft then grinned when it exploded with a flare of light. The energy of the explosion flowed into him. A bright green number seven appeared in the air before him. It was basically, free EXP.

He traveled through the tunnels slowly, carefully. Few enemies appeared, but those that did were all the little skeletal monkeys. Scott beat them all in the exact same way. They would drop down from the ceiling, meat clever in hand. If he avoided, or blocked, the attack they proved easy to beat, even if it was a tiring prospect. If he did not block the attack, a successful hit tore through him with incredible ferocity. Blood spurted out from the wounds created, great gouts of it that arced heavily through the air.

Luckily, despite the weakness of death inflicted upon him Scott was sturdier due to his equipment. Also, the monkeys did not seem to hit as hard as the axe wielding bastard from the beginning.

He was forced to chug both of his remaining doses of spiritus to remain among the sort of living, but he continued the fight. He picked a few odds and ends, here and there. The only notable items were a few more of the crystalized memories of dead people.

Eventually, he made his way to a strange room. At the center of it there was a crystalline obelisk of a dull blue color.

"No monsters that I see..." said Scott while looking around. He raised his shield as best he could, and then made his way to the crystal.

He eye balled it for a moment. What would happen if he touched it? Would it grow hands and tear him apart?

"Fuck it," he said after he gathered his courage. He had to try out everything that he saw. Scott reached out and touched the obelisk.

Electric blue sparks skittered along his finger and danced into the obelisk. Blood red words began to coalesce along the surface of the device. They were blurred, at first, as though someone had smudged them. Soon, however, they became coherent. Scott read them aloud. "One thousand essence to awaken the crystal of salvation."

"Essence... That's EXP for me?" Scott stared at the device. How much was that in EXP?

After a moment, a thought occurred to him. He checked a few of his items. "There's a little italicized place for EXP in most of these things... If that's the conversion rate from essence to EXP, then..."

Scott did the math. It appeared that EXP was worth something like thirty to forty essence. "So, twenty-five to thirty-six or so EXP. Maybe?"

However, he did not know if activating this thing was something worth doing. He had only acquired twenty-three EXP throughout this journey. He did find two more of the memory crystals, but they were smaller than the first one. It was likely that they would be worth less.

"Screw it. I need to find out," said Scott. The name of the thing made it sound important. If this place really was like Dark Souls, then this might even be something like one of the bonfires where progress could be saved. He had no choice but to try and find out.

He drew the EXP out of the memories of lost travelers that he had collected, and then nodded. "Thirty EXP..."

Scott placed his hand to the obelisk once more. The words reappeared, but this time something new appeared as well.

"Awaken the obelisk for one thousand essence? Sure..."

He gasped loudly as life itself seemed to flow out of him. However, what really left him was his precious EXP. An essence counter appeared. Soon it reached one thousand. Below it, the number twenty-five appeared next to the letters EXP.

The obelisk began to radiate a bright blue light. A pulse of energy washed outward across the area and stopped at the edges of the room. It created a sort of threshold at the edges of the room where the tunnel entrances were located.

"OK..." said Scott. What had just happened? Was it good? Was it bad? Did it matter at all?

He found his answers a moment later when the red words appeared once more. This time it was a list of options.

Bind Soul[Free]

Travel [Free]

Improve Attributes[Locked][Unavailable]

Repair Equipment [Varies]

Restore Health[100 Essence][3 EXP]

Heal Status[LV.0][0 Essence][0EXP]

Restore Spiritus[100 Essence]3 EXP]

Heal Soul Desiccation[Lv.2][3500 Essence][88EXP]

"Hell yeah, this was definitely worth the price of admission," said Scott after he read through the little blurbs that arose whenever he focused on a specific list item.

He immediately chose to bind his soul to this obelisk. If he died, he would return here. Travel would allow him to move to another obelisk that he unlocked via a teleportation method. The rest of the options were meant to allow him to heal, refill things like this spiritus vials, or even remove the issue he currently had after having died twice. Repairing equipment was nice as well.

The only annoyance was that he could not increase his stats through this world's basic system. He would only be able to do that at his home point once the mission ended.

The cost to remove soul desiccation was obscene, and went higher with each current level of desiccation. "Only eighty-three EXP to go."

There was one thing that bothered him, though. A warning at the bottom of the list that he did not see before caused his eyebrows to rise up in surprise. "Seriously?"

He did not know if it would be a good thing, or a bad thing. However, there was something else to look forward to now.

Warning

A soul who has recently visited an awakened obelisk will stir the echoes of faded memories. This is particularly dangerous in areas such as the underworld, or abandoned ruins. Previously defeated enemies may return if you pass through an area that you once utilized as a battle ground. In some instances, the previous opponents may be stronger than before. New opponents may be awakened in this manner as well. These beings are the echoes of fallen souls lost to time and history. They cannot seek the light of salvation and may grow angry.

This effect typically lasts twenty-four hours.

"So, basically... Enemies will sometimes respawn if I come here?" He would lay even money that if he died, he'd resurrect here and pretty much everything would respawn.

Scott filled his vial of spiritus then decided to backtrack a little. He did not plan to go far, but did want to see if anything respawned when he was around.

It did not take long before he heard the creaking of old bones. Scott looked up and saw empty-eyed skull of a bone monkey looking down at him. He backed away a step then picked up a loose rock. He decided to experiment a little. He threw the rock at the monkey.

The angry little thing screeched then fell to the ground with a clattered. Scott battered it into submission then took a break. A new tactic was formed. Coming from this direction, he might be able to get a better angle on most of the little bastards. If he could knock them down, first, then he would have to face less of an issue when fighting them.

He fought his way through a few of the bony monkeys by knocking them to the ground. It was not until he reached a room that he thought himself to have cleared completely on his first run through the area that he discovered something odd. "Where did that chest come from?"

Scott looked at the old wooden chest sitting in the corner. It was an unassuming thing. Spider webs covered it here and there, but for the most part it was the same color of the wall. It could easily have been overlooked, though how he actually overlooked it was a mystery.

He started toward, curious about what mysteries might await inside. He came to a jerky halt a moment later, however. His suspicions had flared up. "Nah, man. Too easy."

The cautious explorer threw his chunk of stone with all the strength his desiccated body could handle. It thunked loudly against the chest. Nothing happened, however.

He found another rock, and threw that as well. The process continued for several minutes as he pelted the chest with whatever debris he could find. Finally, forced to move in closer or abandon it altogether, Scott chose to investigate.

When he reached the chest, he smacked it with his torch then hopped back as quickly as his jerky motions would allow. Nothing happened. He did that a few times, but still, nothing happened.

"Are you a mimic or not, dammit?" mumbled Scott. He chose to beat the hell out of it after that. He weakly flailed at it with his torch for a few minutes. Eventually, he brought his sword into play and hacked at the chest with that as well. Still, nothing happened.

Finally, after he took a moment to catch his breath, Scott levered open the lid of the chest and hopped back. Just as before, nothing happened.

"Well... Nothing wrong with being cautious," he said after another brief moment passed.

Scott looked inside the chest and saw a large glowing sphere, and a comfortable looking scarf. He took the sphere and grinned. It flowed into him and became two items. One was a large memory crystal, the Memories of an Unwary Adventurer. The other was a pair of well-worn shoes.

He decided not to check the information of the shoes or the memory crystal until after he snatched up the comfortable looking scarf. It was one of those big thick scarves that would keep someone warm on even the coldest of notes.

The color of burgundy, such as a fine wine or old blood, the scarf had a nice and relaxing feel to it. In fact, Scott immediately felt better just holding it in his hands, for some reason. "Guess there are some ordinary items in the world, too. Wonder what terrible tragic story befell this thing's owner?"

With a sigh, he decided to use the Scarf as makeshift underwear to cover his masculine shame. He wrapped it between his legs a few times then tied it off at his hip. "Well, that's better, and quite comfortable."

The scarf was warm against him, and quite pleasant. Soon, however, the warmth became less pleasant. In fact, he became quite hot with little warning. The screaming started not long afterward.

Scott cried out in a panic as he pulled and tugged at the scarf, but it was attached firmly and had no plans of letting go of its newly found treasure. He managed to rip free one section, only to see the horror show underneath. Blistered skin and partially melted flesh greeted him alongside the acrid stench of a powerful acid at work.

The scarf unknotted itself, but continued to cling tightly to its supposed owner. Soon after, it slipped one end downward and wound itself around his legs. He was brought to his knees and then knocked forward onto his stomach while the surprisingly lengthy scrap wrapped his feet together. He desperately tried to roll around, and even took his sword at stabbed uselessly at the damnable bit of clothing.

In another bid to be free he finally tried to use his shield's special option, Repel the Wicked. Scott roared out a challenge to the formerly comfortable bit of clothing. Brilliant white flared from the shield.

It made a strange trilling sound after a few stabs, sort of like a cross between a growl and a bird call. The light from the shield, however, caused it to go absolutely batshit crazy. It warbled, and shrieked, and then attacked with far greater ferocity. It was enraged by the light.

Suddenly, one end of the scarf split apart and a piece of it shot toward Scott's right arm. It snatched the arm down forcefully, and then repeated the process to grab the other as well. He was left trussed up like a hog-tied calf, his arms and legs behind him.

Unable to fight back at all now, Scott's chest was assaulted. The scarf wrapped around him like a coiling serpent then began to squeeze. His body might be undead, but it was the sort of undead that still thought that it had to breathe, and so reacted accordingly. Ribs cracked as the hell-scarf crushed the life out of him. It drank deeply on his vital fluids as blood leaked from terrible wounds. When Scott's mouth fell open slightly, the scarf sent a thick thread upward to invade his newly opened orifice. Several more followed suit. They entered through his nose, his eyes, and his ears as well.

The last two things that Scott heard, other than the cracking of his own bones, was the sibilant whisperer, "You should learn to be more careful traveler... Out of season fashions can be murder..." and the cackling laughter of a madman who had found something humorous to amuse him.