Chapter 4 - The Lad and the Mutt

The Ultima Deus, the Last God, the Godslayer.. that is to say, me.. well, I lay crumpled in a tangled heap of twitching limbs as some mutt sniffed at my crotch. Damn big mutt, at that.

“.. L.. Leav..”

I had no breath for anything else. I couldn’t remember much from the voyage here, but the landing had certainly made its impact felt - via blunt force trauma. After quietly basking in the afterglow of my hard-won first victory in Aeterna, I had opened my eyes to find myself descending with alarming alacrity towards the ground below. The villagers around me had barely twitched an eyebrow as I had crashed with a spine-wrenching THUD, raising plumes of dust all around me.

Must be some local rite of passage.

Mercifully, the mutt finally desisted from its inspection of my privates. Then, abject horror as I stared in helpless, dawning comprehension of what was about to happen.

“.. Ww… Wai..”

My threatening growl died before it reached my lips. Nothing but a wheeze escaped my parched throat. An instant later, I was no longer feeling parched at all, as a thick stream of yellow liquid splashed against my pants. Then stopped. Then resumed. Stopped. Then one last spurt. It was warm, and I thought I could detect a trace of saltiness in the air. Damn it. Ever the pragmatist, I endeavoured with the last desperate dregs of my useless dignity to burn the image of this damn mutt in my memory. Oh the pain I would visit upon this hapless creature..

“Reaver! I told you not to do that to people!” called a youthful voice from somewhere outside of my vision.

Moments later, a boy came dashing around the corner, obviously out of breath. He lunged forward and snatched at the collar of Reaver, who sat grinning at me in all its toothy glory. Did I say grinning? More like gloating. Damn fleabag, the next time I see you..

“When will you learn, you dummy!” The boy cuffed the huge beast on the head. That gave me pause. Reaver easily towered over the boy, and outmassed him by at least twice, probably thrice as much muscle. The kid looked to be 11 or 12, and pretty scrawny for that age, even. His grimy face was one of almost comical disapproval as he scolded his.. pet? Given the size mismatch, I hesitated. Anyone would have trouble figuring out who the owner and pet was in this particular duo.

Fortunately, Reaver didn’t chomp down on the offending hand. Or head. Or any body part, for that matter. Instead it slumped down, its huge shoulders sagging while it whined plaintively.

“You deserve it. I told you, no marking of pack with strangers. Especially not people! When will you learn that..”

“Ahem.”

“Oh.” The boy turned around to face me, and I thought I might have been off by a year or two. On the high side. What was a 9 year old kid doing with the biggest damn mutt I’ve ever come across in my life?

“I’m so sorry mister. I truly am. Please forgive us. Reaver didn’t mean any harm. He just has this bad habit of.. umm.. marking anyone he really likes as part of his pack.” He gestured vaguely towards my damp clothes. “Um. Please, please forgive us Mister. Reaver, you apologize too!”

Two tiny hands were suddenly struggling with the impossible task of mobilizing a mountain of furry beast that would obviously not go or do anything it did not damn please. Hey, I wasn't about to argue with it. Surprisingly, Reaver did a fairly good interpretation of a contrite, apologetic bark, then hung his head while looking at me with big moony eyes. Well, I'll be damned. I could almost hear the words, "I'se be sowwwy mashtah."

Ahem, I'm sorely out of touch with my dog language skills.

On any other dog, it might have worked. With this damn huge beast - who was sporting a fairly sinister looking eye-patch to boot! - it merely looked like he was sizing me up for dinner. Just as the appetizer too. Who knew how many horses a beast like that needed a day. Hell, make that per meal.

This was the last thing I needed. Since I still couldn’t vocalize properly, I mustered as much dignity as I could - which was damn hard considering the fact that I still lay sprawled on the ground with my limbs splayed about me - and graciously nodded my acquiescence.

Full pardon granted. Now boot it kid. And don’t forget the damn mutt.

Bright kid, he got the message and beamed at me with huge eyes. “Thanks mister! You’re the best! If ever you need someone to show you around the area, just look me up. My name’s..”

“SOOOOLLLL!” Came the bellow of a deep voice from down another alley. “Where are you? And where is that cursed spawn of hell of yours? I swear, this time I’ll..”

From the rapidly wilting expression of the boy and the aggrieved whining coming from the very aptly characterized "cursed spawn of hell", I could safely assume this was indeed Sol.

“Umm, gotta run Mister. I’m Sol. Look me up sometime, alright? Oh, and.. thanks again. Here, you can have this.”

You have received a moldy piece of bread

Reaver didn't miss his cue either. I could do nothing but splutter my outrage as his rough tongue repeatedly ran up and down my face, leaving a disgustingly thick layer of dog saliva coating every inch of it. I actually had to snort hard through my nose to unblock it, otherwise I would have asphyxiated. As it was, I could hardly draw a breath without tasting dog and.. whatever unnameable thing had been its last meal.

When my vision cleared enough that I could distinguish vague figures and shapes through the dog drool half-blinding me, I got an up and close look at Reaver's big ugly mug grinning delightedly at me.

"Woof woof!" Sitting back on his haunches, he was wagging his tail frantically while nuzzling my chest with his snout.

"Aww he really likes you Mister! C'mon boy, lets go!"

"Woof!"

“SOOOOOLLLLLLLL!” came the bellow once again, this time closer.

But Sol had already turned away and taken off at a dead run. As soon as I had a full view of his retreating figure, I couldn’t help but stare at what bounced up and down on Sol’s back as he effortlessly tumbled and pirouetted his way past crates, goats and people alike. Strapped loosely to his back was the biggest damn sword I’ve ever seen in my life. It was probably taller than the boy, a good five feet in length or more, and if the sheath was anything to go by, the blade was wider than the boy’s own legs.

Crazy kid. Crazy dog. Crazy sword. Not messing around with that trio.

And just like that, Sol was gone, nimbly dodging through the bustle of the square and disappearing into the crowd.

“Sniff sniff.. what is that stench..”

“.. Ugh, lost my appetite..”

“.. Damn beggars, no decency.. look at that guy, he just crapped in his own pants..”

I was about to challenge the veracity of that last comment, but then I simply let out a defeated sigh. Why bother?

And so passed the first breaths of Seth the self-styled Godslayer upon the surface of Aeterna. Buried in a dusty corner of a shanty town full of tents, bleating goats and drooling dogs. Oh, don’t forget the fleas. No, too many of those to forget. Or count. At this rate, it wouldn’t surprise me if..

*Bleep*

Alert! Starved Colony of Fleas is leeching your blood awayYour HP has gone down by 1 point!Current HP:3 / 4

GOD DAMMMMMMMIT.

God damn fleas, god damn pisswater shanty town, and god damn pissing dog.. and everything else, to boot.

“St.. Status Information”

*Diiing*

You are currently being attacked by Starved Colony of Fleas.

You are currently afflicted by Soul Diffusion.Also.. you are urgently in need of a bath. No, really. Not kidding.

“In.. information, Soul Diffusion.”

*Diiiing*

Soul Diffusion:An extremely rare detrimental status condition that afflicts users who have recently sustained severe soul manipulation. This debuff freezes HP and Mana regeneration, and all stamina points are consumed until the duration of the effect has expired and soul restoration has taken place.

Time remaining until soul restoration: 193 minutes.

“...”

Taking a deep breath, I decided to cut my losses and simply make the best possible use of my time. First of all, the spoils of victory! I had noticed at the very last second that the quest I had completed had changed from a difficulty of “D” to “S”. I would not dispute that. Damn near tore my soul in half pulling that stunt off.

Accordingly, I was expecting some incredibly rare or valuable rewards.

“First, lets see how much of an ass I’m being.”

“Trait Information: Stubborn Mule.”

Diiing

Talent Name:Talent Rank:Talent Level:Talent Experience:Stubborn MuleF298%The mighty God of Rebirth, Judge of the Dead and Forger of Souls has granted you this special talent. Even in the face of all logic or reason, though oceans crash upon your shoulders and storms flail at your sides, you remain stalwart, an unmovable object, an unstoppable force.

You are the stubborn mule.

Strength +2

Agility +2

Vitality +4

Intelligence -2

Wisdom -2

Leadership +2

Luck +4

Resistance to charm, fear or other mind control effects +110%.

Resistance to bind, stun, knockdown, and other forms of crowd control +110%

P.S. Now you really are an ass. Enjoy~! - Enma-sama.

“Excellent." And it was. I was very well pleased with how much of an ass I've made of myself thus far.

"Next up, Trait Information: Relentless.”

Trait Name:Trait Rank:Trait Level:Trait Experience:RelentlessF199%Drop by drop, as measured in a heartbeat, or extended to infinity, eventually all shall crumble under its weight. In the grand scheme of things, in the divine symphony of creation, there exists no power more indomitable, more inconquerable, more unstoppable, than the simple drop upon drop of compound interest.

Actions gain a small bonus upon immediate reiteration. Each identical iteration cumulatively compounds the benefits of this trait.

Current Bonus: Insignificant.

“Woa. Jackpot!”

I could imagine countless benefits for this trait. If each time I repeat the exact same task I gain a bonus that stacks.. well, infinitely.. that just seems ridiculously broken. There must be a catch somewhere. Maybe the fact that the bonus is "Insignificant" for now. Maybe if I rank it up that will increase? I can't wait to test it out in the field.

Next..

“Information: Blessing of the Keeper.”

Blessing of the KeeperAn exceedingly precious gift.

???

“Figures.. aw well, next.”

“Trait Information: “Flawed Soul.”

Trait Name:Trait Rank:Trait Level:Trait Experience:Flawed SoulF199%All souls are equal before the tribunal of the gods. As fate weaves, measures and cuts, only the truly damned find no shelter from the storms of ages. Thus, they remain a broken vessel, wandering Aeterna in a neverending quest, seeking in vain what they can never possess.

???

“ Well, that didn’t help at all. Maybe I need to rank it up? If only I knew how. At the very least, I hope I never have to deal with this diffusion BS again.”

“Status Window.”

Diiing

Status WindowName:SethAlignment:NeutralLevel:1Class:ScholarRace:HumanAffiliation:Ancient HistoryGender:MaleTalent:Stubborn MuleTraitsFlawed Soul

Relentless

Paranoid SurvivalistFame:1000Infamy:0-Health:3 / 4Soul:5Mana:24 / 24????Stamina:5 / 5????-Strenght:4Agility:4Vitality:6Intelligence:8Wisdom:8Charisma:4Luck:9-Attack:2Defense:2Physical ResistancesSlashing:0Piercing:0Crushing:0Elemental ResistancesFire:0Water:0Wind:0Earth:0Light:0Darkness:0

This was.. pathetic. 5 Stamina? 4 Health? A bunch of mana I couldn't even use. It also dawned on me that without the benefits of "Stubborn Mule", my physical stats would have been even lower. Unbelievable. No wonder Scholars were such an unpopular class. The information I'd gathered had been sketchy at best, but I had decided to take gamble. I still wasn't sure if it would pay off, but for now I would just have to make the best of the cards I'd been dealt.

I also noticed that I had 1000 fame. That seemed rather high, but no one seemed to recognize me. Maybe once I got to my feet..?

Slowly, feeling leaked back into my limbs. By the time I could finally breathe normally and stand, the urine stink had thoroughly permeated into every nook and cranny of my precious starting equipment set. It was a stench so foul that I even had a few passersby draw precious water from the well nearby in order to dump it on my prone figure, probably hoping it’d mask the miasma somewhat. I wasn’t sure whether I should be offended or grateful.

Probably both.

At least the water had gotten rid of the fleas. Probably off to find less water-sogged prey to suck blood from. I could certainly sympathize, as I felt thoroughly miserable. Then again, at least I had my soul. My whole soul, that is, no matter what this stupid VR told me. If I’m flawed, then it is the flaw that defines humanity to its core.

Perfect bliss? Pweeeease. I snorted loudly, and some of the women sitting near me discreetly gathered their belongings and scooted away while tossing misgiving glances my way.

".. Junkies all over the place now.."

".. Hope that's not catching.."

Well, no matter.

Alright. time to enact the first steps of my plan to slay all the gods and visit terrible vengeance upon the hapless denizens of this world.

A feral grin escaped my lips. Yes, sweet, sweet vengeance. The only salve that could soothe the fierce burning within my soul.

However..

“Quest? Get away from me, beggar!”

“Your stink is driving me mad! Off with you before I set the dogs on you!”

“Trust you with my precious message? Hah, I wasn’t born yesterday. Better luck finding some gullible fool to rob blind.”

Scowling darkly, I looked down at my outfit. It was the standard starting outfit for the Scholar class, alright. However, not only did scholars find no traction or garner any respect from the tough, stringy warriors and hunters in the Arioch Wastelands, but my robes were dusty and smeared with soil and offal, not to mention the unnameable stench constantly wafting from them. This was proving to be an unexpectedly big obstacle. My vaunted 1000 fame was doing me exactly zero good.

No matter. I'd crawled me way out of deeper pits than this. Scratching my chin, I realized I need to adjust my grand scheme slightly to the new situations on the ground. Happened all the time as a field commander once battle was joined.

And just as I was formulating a plan to enact my original plan..

"NO! Please! Don't do it! STOP!"

It was a voice I recognized from earlier. Sol. I could hear also hear the sounds of what could be muffled snarls. Reaver.

"Damn mutt, finally got what it deserved," I muttered darkly.

"Please, I beg you."

Against my better judgment, I straightened my rumpled robes of the hallowed order of the Scholars of Ancient History turned babysitters and animal control therapists. Hey, I even had the signature urine stain. Authentic stench and all.

"Please. Anyone - HELP!"

My steps quickened as I followed Sol's voice.

Help was on the way, little fellow. As I drew nearer, a cold, deadpan voice muttered something inside my head - I'd like to say it was the voice of reason, who always seemed to take perverse pleasure in choosing the worst times to point out the obvious, "And who's gonna help us?"

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