Dissonance a litrpg adve.., p.54
Dissonance: A LitRPG Adventure, page 54
part #1 of Unbound Series
That icon was still flashing in his vision, temporarily forgotten in the heat of the moment. Felix toggled it and bit back a curse.
Affected by Skill: Touch of Catharsis
Effect: 50% Reduction in Alacrity, Emotional Instability Increased
That weasel made me upset on purpose! Felix huffed an aggrieved breath, but drew it out with an effort of Will. He took two more deep breaths, centering himself.
That tangle of emotions still affected his mind, and it felt like a sort of poison. He activated Fire Within.
Delving within his channels, Felix visualized the emotions as a cloud of pale pink energy. Pieces of it wafted through his channels, but the vast majority was within his head, a storm cloud of rose vapor that shimmered with an internal light. But he'd encountered foreign elements in his system before, so Felix knew what to do.
He fed it to the Fire.
Wisp after wisp was pulled down into his core, where his Fire Within devoured it, burning it for fuel and sustenance. He only stopped when the main concentration of the pink Mana was dissipated, though Felix could still sense wisps floating free within him. Even so, the notification cleared. He opened his eyes and sighed in relief.
Fire Within is level 33!
The emotions were cleared away, leaving Felix feeling steady. His mind felt raw, like an exfoliated stretch of skin, but clean.
Then Felix felt rage. This one was fresh and entirely his own. How dare they do that! Why? What was the point? Felix detected no benefit to the spell, other than upsetting him. Wait, what is Alacrity?
Felix sat down, careful not to break the vials he still held in his hands. He checked through his status page but could find nothing on the term. It wasn't even in his Harmonic Stats listing, which he hadn't checked in a while. Then he felt his core, which had been steadily consuming those few wisps of pink Mana found in his channels, burn up the last of it.
He heard a sound like a far-off trilling, sharply rising.
You Have Unlocked A Harmonic Stat!
Alacrity - Affects feats of the mind. Confluence of Intelligence and Agility.
Current Value: ALA - 26.530*
Huh. Felix toggled open his Harmonic Stats and yup, there it was. Alacrity. Did I get that because of Vvim's Skill?
Harmonic Stats
RES: 43
REI: 21
ALA: 26
How many more of these are there? Despite himself, Felix felt a surge of excitement as he sat there, looking at his new stat. What exactly is a "feat of the mind?" It doesn't seem like it affects mental resistance, necessarily. Perhaps mental abilities in general? Harmonic Stats are strange.
He was getting distracted, he knew. Felix had been affected by an emotional manipulation spell. It had blasted right past his Willpower and his Bastion of Will Skill, the stat and Skill he was pretty sure protected his mental state the most. That meant Vvim was powerful. But what did they do with Felix when he was compromised? They asked questions.
Why? What was so important to the Geist that it had to talk to him?
They said they were waiting for the Nym. For me. "A promise kept," they said. Felix shook his head. It seemed more like the Geist was seeing if I knew why I was here, like it was...judging me.
A chill ran down his back.
For what?
Vvim left the boy to ponder their words. It was all they could do.
The strange child was Nymean, that was certain. The Song spoke of his Race, and the Song did not lie. It could be blinded; it could be made false, but not to Vvim.
The Touch of Catharsis made it very clear. The boy seeks out the prisoners not for vanity or power, but out of sympathy. Vvim shook his head in amazement, fragile hands splayed against their heavily dust-coated desk.
The Nym had made it a policy to stamp out those predators that sought dominion over the weak, a policy that long made them the hated enemy of many powerful monsters. Now this strange child appeared in Shelim, Nym of Body and Mind, to save the weak from the corrupt.
It would be storybook perfect, were it not for the hunger Vvim sensed within him.
A mark was upon the boy. Within Vvim's Sight, there was a marring of his flesh, of his Spirit. In the Geist's powerful senses, they could sense Felix's body as a wash of electric blue and radiant gold; a strange Spirit to be sure, but not entirely remarkable. It was the bottom corner of his Spirit that raised concerns; it was marred by a sickly, insidious red, one that would have been hidden from most, but not Vvim. They would recognize that discordant touch anywhere.
Upon the boy's Spirit, there was the faint imprint of teeth, and between them, circular suction cups.
"We are at a crossroads, my dear Family. The world stands on the precipice of a great reckoning, and this one cannot tell if it will be triumph or despair." Vvim's creaking voice sounded flat in the small chamber, the undisturbed dust muffling all sound. It was a sad noise, like an old door shutting behind a loved one headed on a long journey; one they might not survive.
Still. Not every infected fell. The mark was not death, nor was it the end. And despite the Geist's mounting concern, Vvim felt their chest quicken and blood rush through ancient veins. The boy was fierce, and a compassion drove his heart, one that marked him as strange far more than his scent.
Alongside the rising excitement, a bubble of odd nerves rose up from Vvim's belly. A puff of ancient breath quivered the thick skein of dust upon the desk, dislodging a fair amount into the air. Only after the third such puff did Vvim realize what was happening.
They laughed.
They hoped.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Felix poked his head out of the covered archway, checking on the group.
Everyone had settled into sleep or something like it, and the fire had been banked low. His Manasight easily picked out their forms, and a quick flex proved that green-gold life Mana still flowed through their blurry auras. It was hard for him to see auras properly—if that’s what they were called—but it was enough. Pit, meanwhile, was snoring contentedly right next to the door, oblivious to everything that had just happened. Felix smiled wryly. "Some watchdog you are."
He gently petted the tenku on the head, causing him to snort and roll over.
Felix retreated back into the basin room, still considering the Geist's words. If Vvim was trying to tell me something, why not just come out and say it? Why the run around and literal emotional manipulation? It felt needlessly convoluted to Felix, but maybe that's how life was when you were an ancient ermine-person. And was there a connection to the Orit? They both looked like weasel-ish creatures, though the Orit had resembled some sort of mutated hybrid. Vvim was far smaller, too, and much more eloquent than the Orit's guttural mumblings. They were similar...but was it in any meaningful way? Or was it like humans and gorillas; common ancestors and divergent evolutionary lines?
He felt his stomach gurgle, almost as if it was reminding him of his purpose that night.
Right. The blood. He held out the two vials, regarding them again. Vvim warned against the hunger, but did that mean my normal sped-up hunger? Or something else? Is there a difference?
Felix considered his strange appetite with a new perspective; he had assumed it was an increase in his metabolism due to enhanced stats, and maybe it was. It was also true that Felix had started craving the power these vials could grant him, but that felt like an easy answer. Who wouldn't crave power if they could easily obtain it? In the end, Felix was trying to survive, and as far as he was concerned, that outweighed some nebulous, potentially moral danger to himself. Felix knew who he was; some stolen monster Skills weren't going to change that.
Steeling himself, Felix tipped the first vial up and downed it in one.
The hunger pains in his stomach flared violently for a moment, and Felix doubled over in sudden pain. The world stretched, rippling like usual, the world vanished into the void.
Oh right, he panted. This again.
The void was quickly populated by an infinite variety of Ofrenok, their snarling, slobbering visages dominating the horizon in all directions. They undulated, time playing out in physical space, extending outward from Felix's position like ten thousand snakes. It was, in a phrase, the worst.
I thought thirty of them was bad enough. This is a nightmare.
Unwilling to wait for the void to splinter and shear again, Felix reached out and selected one of the many bodies. A sensation of falling consumed him, and an instant later, he became something else.
Hunger.
Always hunger.
His slick body wriggled through a river of muddy slop, seeking out noises in the utter dark. He couldn't see, for he had no eyes. But sound shivered and shook all around him, pulsing like waves in the ocean. The small, muddy world beneath the surface was narrow and cramped until it reached the deeper parts, where the wet ran free and pools collected in the tight confines of sloppy stone. Crawl-fish darted, here and there, too many legs, too fast; but he was smarter, quieter. Patient.
Snap! Snap!
Crawl-fish in his belly. Hunger happy, for now. But still, the hunt continued, because the hunger always came back.
Many crawl-fish later, he was in the underneath, where he fought against currents and sluicing muck. There he sensed a big crawl-fish. A huge one, made of something...hard, and shiny. He could not tell how he heard the shine, just that it pushed against his senses, a hundred crawl-fish legs waving in the wet.
Shiny and big and...and old. So old.
Too old. Too big. Too strong. The crawl-fish grabbed his brothers and sisters who swam among the muck, breaking them, snapping them.
Stealing them.
He swam. Swam fast and far. Into the upper dark, out of the wet beneath. Up. Up. Into the sky rock.
Where he will be safe from the Lost.
Felix snapped back to himself, more gently than usual, but with the same disconcerting sense of dislocation. It took him several long moments to reorient to his own senses, especially the confusing jumble of light and Mana that was his sight.
Ooofa. Wish that would improve faster. Felix shook his head, which only resulted in more spinning. Instead he closed his eyes and took deep breaths for thirty seconds. Slowly, everything settled.
Lessons of the Past is level 14!
That was about what I could expect from the Ofrenok. Slimy bastards. Felix felt a ripple of disgust spread from his neck, still able to perfectly envision the scaly, slimy body he had inhabited during the Memory. And what did I learn? Ofrenok eat crawl-fish, which are nightmarish fish/crab hybrids, and something was eating them. No, wait. Stealing them. Ugh. Why?
Felix sighed. Another mention of the Lost. First the Orit, then Vvim, now some nameless Ofrenok. A Memory rose to his attention, a stray thought tugged upon by the word "Lost." It was dim for a moment, before Felix's Born Trait drew sudden clarity.
The Copse Grub, that's right! It experienced something it called the Lost too. Broken. Unmade. Felix pondered. I know it’s not talking about me.
He shrugged. Who knew how many "Lost" races there were? It wasn't important at the moment, but he made sure to file it away at the top of his questions. What was more immediately concerning was that Felix had not garnered a single Skill from the Memory. Not even a hint of one.
Is mud swimming a Skill? He chuckled to himself. Would I want it if it was?
So that was a bust. His first time garnering a Memory without any Skill use within it. His Gourmand Title didn't activate, so digesting the Mana was also fruitless.
Oh well. Move on. Don't dwell. He tipped the next vial up, gagging as the Ofrehulk blood poured past his tongue. It was thick and sour and black as pitch. He gulped audibly, and screwed up his face in disgust.
Then, again, the world stretched...then rippled, flinging him into the void.
Two hours later, Felix laid on his bedroll contemplating the ceiling.
Well, to be clear, he was laying above his bedroll. Then, with a puff and thump, Felix fell six inches down onto his back.
"Oof!"
His breath rushed out of him as he hit the hard ground, but he tried to turn it into a quiet wheeze. It was late, and his allies were well and truly asleep. The room was extremely dark, the fire having given up the ghost, though of course that didn't matter to him. The glow of ambient Mana all around was enough, not including the dissipating Mana of his Cloudstep Skill.
Cloudstep is level 5!
Felix had been doing this for about fifteen minutes, each time pushing himself a little higher than before. Turned out, Cloudstep created a platform of Mana that could cushion him, and he could also make it large enough to hold his whole body. The Mana cost was prohibitive, but it was good to know that, were he to have truly outrageous Mana or regen, he could sleep in a comfortable magic hammock.
It's the little things. He sat up and rubbed his face, feeling the long day weigh on him. His Stamina was still ok, and his Mana would regenerate quickly, but Felix had been through a lot in the past twenty four hours. He was mentally exhausted, and like he admitted to Vvim, he was terrified.
Turning his thoughts away, he considered the Skill he had stolen from the Ofrehulk.
Relentless Charge (Uncommon), Level 1!
Lay waste to your enemies by engaging in the ancient art of running real fast into them! Temporarily increases speed and weight when charging in a straight line. Speed and weight increased moderately by Skill level, Stamina use decreases slightly by Skill level, Mana use decreases slightly by Skill level.
He hadn't gained any Memories from the behemoth, for which Felix was grateful. He imagined the experiences of the Ofrehulk to be limited at best. He was still flung into the void, but the whole of it collapsed before he even saw any time-displaced strings of monsters. When he became aware of his own body again, his core had already finished digesting the creature's Mana.
The Skill was fueled by both Stamina and Mana, so he wouldn't be able to utilize it as much as his spells, but it was an interesting ability to have in the tank. Felix could imagine escaping an ambush by bashing through an enemy horde, or using it to get up close quickly. He hadn't tried it yet as the space in the tower was extremely limited, so he'd have to test it once they left in the morning.
Admittedly, this would be a lot easier if I had some sort of armor. Though it might be useful to train up Armored Skin and Pain Resistance even more. Felix winced at the thought. As normalized as the pain of combat was becoming, he didn't enjoy it. If only they had some spare armor or something, I could at least protect my chest. Maybe a helmet?
Felix let out a heavy sigh and closed his Skills again. He returned to contemplating the ceiling; the fall had interrupted his thoughts. It was vaulted, which he hadn't bothered to notice before. Delicately designed stone braces arced across like the ribs of some creature, and between them were small hexagonal tiles, almost like scales.
The tiles on the ground are five-sided, and the ones on the roof are six. Does that mean anything? The Nymean Temple had six-sided tiles on the ground, he recalled. Here, there are five. Does that indicate some sort of...subservient status? The way Vvim had spoken of the Nym was almost reverent.
Or am I drawing connections that aren't there?
Perhaps the architecture here was just meant to baffle everyone, he grumbled to himself. It was baffling to him, at the very least. He still hadn't been able to find the hidden door, and a trip up the original staircase only let him to an open area where wind and rain had damaged much of the architecture. No stairs went further up.
How did I get up there? Was it Vvim? The little creature said the Tower belonged to them, the Geist. Felix went over the conversation in his head again, reliving it, picking out bits the Geist said...and didn't say. They said they were old. Centuries old? They looked ancient, for sure. Their fur was white and thin, their face super wrinkly. But they were also powerful, crazy fast, and perceptive. How it watched them at all still eluded Felix, though he suspected the creature had some sort of spying or observation Skill.
Maybe Vvim can melt into the walls or something. He glanced at a nearby wall, solid and impervious in his Manasight, and scooted a few inches away. He knew so little about Vvim, the Geist, or even his companions currently. As the night went on and the dark pressed in closer, Felix felt adrift, just a little.
So many things could go wrong tomorrow. The Guilders are skilled and powerful, and I feel like I can hold my own for at least a little while. But the 'what ifs' concern me. The giants could return, the assassin could attack at the wrong moment, the prisoners could be too hurt to move. Felix felt inundated by the immensity of it all, and almost heard those whispering voices in the acid sea. They scraped against the ship of his mind, tipping it, scratching it, looking to drag him down again.
Felix's breath quickened. He knew he wasn't in that place anymore, but it still hit him like a punch in the dark. His blood felt thick and heavy, yet his pulse raced a thousand miles per hour, and he squeezed his fists so hard his tendons creaked. Haltingly, he re-imagined that castle, the fortress of high walls and impervious gates. His bastion.
The water crashed against those walls but couldn't get in, the creatures lashed the stone but found no purchase. Slowly, he firmed his resolve, flaring his Willpower to push his terror away. Felix's mind steadied, solid ground rising beneath his feet, his bastion surrounding him. The scraping of beasts in the dark water receded, the voice of failure pushed down and away.
I can do this.
Then again, maybe I could train a little more...
Felix gave up on the idea before he so much as sat up. He was beat. He might need a few more Skill levels, but he needed sleep, too. They had a scant few hours before the assault. Enough time to rest, prepare, and then go. No more training. No more time.
