19: Definitely Not Arson

Killing the boss had given me ten whole levels, pushing me to level twenty, and all through the anvil crafting process, I’d left the points unassigned. Ten levels for almost one boss was almost unheard of, but with the exponential experience curve, it made sense. Unlike other games that capped out the max you could get from a kill, Rellithesh gave each enemy a specified amount of experience it dropped and divided it among all participants of the kill. To give groups an extra incentive to work together—and to discourage people from goblin-mode 1v1’ing a boss like I had—The exp that a member of a party received was increased by a small percentage. That way, the total exp doled out was actually greater in a team.

Anyway, I needed to have a long hard think about where I wanted to take my character from here. Level 25 was on the horizon, and with it, I’d be getting my first class evolution.

As it stood, I relied exclusively on my own skill and speed to avoid damage, which I honestly didn’t see changing. At the risk of falling into a certain annoying and misattributed racial stereotype, I decided I’d just continue to dodge everything. That meant I needed to substantially increase my Dexterity, which was currently sitting at a neglected 7.

Luckily, I had 20 points to place into my attributes after the massive experience dump from the boss. So, my dex got a healthy shot of points, nine to be exact, pushing it all the way up to 16. The physical difference in my body was a rush, too. Suddenly, I felt like I could bend over and touch my toes with zero effort whatsoever.

Then, I put four points into Strength, four into Athleticism, two into Stamina, and one into Constitution. I was pretty sure Stamina was going to need some more TLC in the near future, but until then, I was going to grind it up the old fashioned way.

As for abilities… well, a lot was going on there. At level twenty, I had a couple more options. One that I left alone for now was a functionality upgrade to Imbue Parry, called Jarring Parry. Instead, I unlocked an ability called Larkspur Strike, which was another big flashy fast move. This one, though, required me to tear my blade out of its sheath without touching it. That was where the sword’s own level up came in handy. When I’d defeated the big boss, my sword had increased in power right alongside me, and what did I spend the resulting point on? A perk called Attunement. When I did so, it opened up into a full description with an actual name—Minor Telekinetic Connection, which allowed me some small semblance of mind-to-sword control over my blade. It also had four different stats that I could assign points into instead of the random perks—Damage, Durability, Speed, and Spellflow. Since I didn’t have any more points, I left them alone.

Back to the Larkspur Strike, though, the effects of the ability were… intense, to say the least, and it had a five minute cooldown. Not many abilities had cooldowns like that. It made sense for this one, though, because this one summoned three different illusions, all identical to me, and all of them could deal damage. They would sweep through and attack anything and everything in a flurry of death, while the original strike would inflict a debilitating debuff on all those it hit with its wide, sweeping wave of energy.

It cost me five points to get—Which was also far outside the norm—but it sounded like it would be so worth it. That left me with five more ability points, one of which I used to purchase another parry ability—Jarring Parry—that would send a shockwave up the enemy’s weapon. I put one more point into Pinprick Strike, because it was immensely useful in a lot of situations, and Scatter Dash, because reducing that cooldown would be very nice. Maybe I should do Ribbon Roll, too? Yes, absolutely Ribbon Roll deserved to be rank 2—But… maybe saving the last ability point would be a good idea, though.

Anyway, my long term goal was deceptively simple: Craft a naginata. Unfortunately, the fucking Spirit Forging book detailed how crafting using the skill was one wildly specific task after another. To smelt iron into spirit metal, I needed to start a spirit fire within the stump of an old willow, oak, or walnut tree. Then, I needed to pour the sap of a haunted oak over the ore I wished to use and smelt it into a bar. I wasn’t allowed to just buy some iron and whip out the spooky maple syrup either. Had to be iron recently from the earth. I really hoped the rest of the Spirit Forging process wasn’t as oddly specific as this.

So, my first port of call was to buy a little magical lighter and some oil. I did not have time to sit around rubbing two sticks of wood together. I wasn’t Ethan, after all… Sigh. He would have loved that joke.

The primary marketplace of Ardgour was near the top of the small mountain the city was built on. It was a huge circle, recessed into the ground slightly and bustling with activity. I’d call it a square, but… well, it wasn’t. It was a circle. So, it was called the market plaza, although I think it had a fancy lore name too.

The market was cut in half by a small river contained within a canal that allowed for swift movement of goods. It was a pretty cool place, and due to the enchantments in the river, much cleaner than most other cities. It was part of the reason so many Human Alliance players used it as their hub.

Crossing the river, I wove my way through the crowds based on memory, only to find that the enchanter’s stalls had moved since I was last here.

“Damn it,” I swore, glaring at the nearest tall person.

It was then that I realised I didn’t actually need to be down here. Fluttering my wings, I hopped up into the air and shrank myself. Buzzing like a hummingbird, I once again took a moment to appreciate my new character. This was more like it! Now, to find an enchanter who specialided in everyday objects.

As I was searching, though, I heard a voice shouting out from the crowd. One that was familiar, but it didn’t immediately register in my brain. As the owner of the voice got closer, though, I realised they were calling my name.

“Keiko! Keiko!” she called, pushing through the crowd. It was Paisley, plus Ethan behind her, looking bemused by the tiny gnome mage’s antics.

I contemplated pretending I hadn't heard her and flying off, but something inside me protested and I gave in to the lure of my once-friends.

Flying out of the main throng of traffic, I waited as they approached. Paisley still had her soft-goth aesthetic going, while Ethan was in a chill green and silver suit. It was a departure from his normal white and gold monk’s getup, but it looked so much better on him.

“Hi?” I asked, buzzing down to head height for Paisley. What the hell did she want?

Her cheeks were all red from the effort of pushing against the flow of the crowd, and it made her look adorable. “Hey. Sorry, I just saw you fly up into the air. Oh my god, you’re so cute like that!”

“I have to agree,” Ethan commented with a sly grin. Damn him and his sly grin.

“I am very cute,” I preened hesitantly, rather than letting his teasing have the effect he wanted. Ethan was always drily stirring shit. “I do like how the game generated this character, to be honest. My beauty stat must be pretty high.”

"You can say that again," Paisley said, her voice almost wistful.

Frowning, I allowed myself to pop back to my regular height and reached out to take her hand. "Hey, don't say it like that. You're plenty pretty yourself."

Beside her, Ethan made a choking sound and glanced away, while she did a rapidfire dance with her eyes. They settled on my hand over hers, and I realized with a jolt of chagrin that I'd just touched her without any sort of permission. Oh god, what was wrong with me? Fawning over a pretty girl like some desperate dude. I was better than that, and I also was not a guy anymore. We weren't friends anymore, and certainly not in the same way we had been before everything happened.

"A-ah, sorry," I blurted, dropping her hand, stomach icing over with mortified embarrassment. Oh fucking hell, this was all spinning wildly off kilter. I was just too confused by the old and the new—Both her appearance, and the uneven footing my lies created in our interactions. "I— um… I need to go and… buy some,” shit, what was the word, “Uh, arson equipment. I mean, a lighter and some gasoline. Not for arson stuff. Smithing. I'm going smithing. Doing, I mean. Sorta, it's—"

"Hey, yo, chill. Keiko, it's fine!" Paisley interrupted, giving me a huge, beaming smile. Not that her smiles were ever anything other than brilliantly bright. They were a flashbang, or something. I certainly felt like I was dazed and disoriented.

“Right,” I nodded, staring at her like a deer in headlights. God, fuck, I was a mess.

Ethan saved us by politely asking, “So, what are you here to buy? You mentioned a lighter and some oil?”

“Yeah…” I began, then perked up as I remembered what the hell I was actually buying them for. Should I tell them? Yeah, it was cool and I wanted to hear their reactions. “I found this old skill book on Spirit Forging, and decided it looked fun. I needed the heart of a spirit, which you can only get from a spirit with a physical form, so that’s why I was fighting that big mushroom. Now I need to start a fire inside an old oak tree stump.”

“That sounds awesome,” Paisley grinned, glancing at Ethan and sharing a look that would have been private if I hadn’t known them so well. She wanted something from him. Specifically she wanted him to ask if they could come with me. At least, that was my guess.

Amused, he met my eyes and asked, “Want help finding that lighter?”

Another choice to take further steps in rekindling my friendship with them, despite my big, potentially catastrophic lie.

“If you could,” I nodded. I was such a pushover. “This place has shuffled since I was last here.”

“How long have you been playing Relli?” Ethan asked, nodding back into the market. “I know a stall that has what you want if you follow.”

“Since launch,” I replied, falling in behind him.

Seriously though, what was I doing right now? I’d been determined to go and find new friends, get out of the drama of my old guild, and yet here I was. One smile from Paisley and I was back in her pocket. Fuck.

The—supposedly—kind hearted girl in question raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “What was your name beforehand?”

“U-um… the same,” I lied, pretending to keep an eye on Ethan’s back as he forged a path through the crowd for us. “Different last name, but same first name.”

“Ah, I guess I never met you,” she said, staring at me with eyes that were honestly way too big.

“Probably not,” I said neutrally.

The stall was fairly mundane for an enchanting shop, but well, they sold lighters, glowing rocks, and mirrors that didn’t smudge. Not exactly the height of fantastical items, but they had a nice little ebony-wood spark wand and some arcane oil. I bought both.

Paisley and Ethan waited while I paid, then we all stood in an awkward triangle while I waited to see what they wanted next.

"So… uh… what are your plans for the rest of the day?" Paisley asked, almost timidly.

I shrugged. "I was just going to fly into the forest and hunt down one of those spooky trees. I need the sap from it."

"Oh, that sounds fun!" Paisley said, excited. Her face quickly fell, though, and she mumbled, "Ah, but I can't fly. I mean, we can't fly. I guess… have fun?"

I had to fight not to roll my eyes. Classic Paisley, not having the confidence to ask for something she wanted.

"I will, thank you," I said, flashing a brief smile, and with a nod to Ethan, I exploded into ribbons and buzzed off into the sky.

Unfortunately for me, my flight range was still pretty limited, and I had to land just outside the city. My wings might be able to carry me, but they were still fledgling wings.

Thankfully, I had a rough idea of where I needed to go, which was into the forests to the north of the city. The northern forests were a little higher level than usual, and they were full of nasty undead shit. Perfect for what I needed.

Unlike other, more normal forests, this one wasn’t preceded by a sort of transitory woodland. Instead, it went from golden farmland right into a dark, claustrophobic, and overgrown tangle. The trees were as you’d expect for a forest with this kind of vibe—twisted and dying, yet somehow still clinging to life. Unfortunately, what I was after in here wasn’t considered to be one of the living ones.

About five minutes into the eerily silent woods, the hair on the back of my neck stood straight up, and I felt some sort of weird premonition. Adrenaline spiking instantly, I threw myself to the side, blade singing from its scabbard. The moment the blade met air, it ignited with a lavender glow, releasing a high pitched growl as it did so—The blade imbuing itself so I didn't have to.

The wooden claw I blocked was as hard as steel, but the horrific tree monster that it belonged to was not. It was all twisted and gnarled, like some sort of impressionist painting of a dryad.

My answering riposte took a chunk of its head off, but to my alarm all that did was make it angrier. Screaming, it lunged again, and I was forced to Scatter Dash out of the way, leaving a flickering afterimage of myself in the spot I’d just vacated. Enraged by the seemingly incorporeal enemy it had just passed through, it turned around and sighted where I’d ended up at.

Its next attack I blocked with my Imbued Parry, and then lashed out, cutting through another branch on the weird-ass moving bush. That blow was quickly followed by two more in rapid succession, killing it before it could have another go at me.

Unfortunately, it had friends, who were now hellbent on revenge. Two different gnarled dryads came at me, and I dodged sideways into a Ribbon Roll. Another one leapt out of the bushes at me before I could recover from the roll, and only a panicked un-buffed parry stopped me from taking a hit.

Crying out in anger, I whipped my sword home into its sheath and leapt backwards. The beautiful pink blade wouldn't stay sheathed for very long.

It was time.

Gripping the hilt with my mind rather than my hand, I tore it from its home, tracing a wide arc in front of me. A deceptively gentle green coloured light flashed out from my katana, sweeping over the dryads like a miasmic plague.

Moments later, three Keiko copies rushed past, their swords flashing in the twilight of the forest. Dryads lost limbs and heads, and one was even cut in half at the waist. It was carnage, and to top it all off, sickly black and pink tendrils held them, coiling over their bodies to sap their speed and strength.

Five, then six, then seven dryads went down, but still more rushed on, and just as I thought I was going to need to leap up into the trees and fly away, a force of nature intervened.

The air split with a terrible, high pitched whistle and a tiny beam of vicious red energy carved a path through the remaining creatures. Another followed, and another, each one stabbing and slicing the group of dryads up until they all lay on the forest floor, charred and smoking.

Oh no… I knew that ability. I knew it very well…

“Whoa, that was a lot of Twisted Dryads!” Paisley said cheerfully, jogging into view. “Do you have a taunt running or something?”