The Pinnacle Warrior

Astrid roared as she shoved the treant’s body away from herself. Its grasping branches slipped around her shield and tried to pull her back with it, but she twisted her left arm and cut with the shield’s edge through the wood that tried to hold her back. Even as she sliced through its grasping fingers, she was forced to push a heavy amount of mana into her greaves to keep herself from being yanked into the monster’s embrace. Fortunately, as she’d gained levels, the amount of mana that the greaves required was proportionally much less than it had been before, and with all her attributes now over 100, she could spend mana with less of a constant concern. 

Refocusing herself, Astrid dealt with the treant in front of her. These creatures, now that she was familiar with the Verdant Walkers, seemed like the Dungeon’s failed attempt at recreating the people who lived in the Sanctuary above. Before she’d met Cresche, she probably would have assumed that the treants were the same kind of creature as the Verdant Walkers, but now, she could see that where Cresche and his Grove were elegant and beautiful, in a natural way, these were craggy, twisted, and monstrous, ugly in a vicious way.

A Verdant Walker looked like a tree that had been carefully sculpted to have arms, a head, and legs. Almost like hair, branches and leaves sprouted from their heads, and whorls and knots formed their faces that could only be seen clearly when the Walker themself wanted to be perceived as a person beyond a tree. Astrid knew that the guardians of the Verdant Sanctuary could hide their identities, if they so chose, and pretend to be trees. She’d seen it in action once or twice, and it was uncanny.

Treants, even when they attempted to hide their identities in this deep, dark forest, would appear to be monstrous. Instead of natural bark, their bodies were covered with a wooden armor that was so dark red as to appear black, and that bark stuck out from their bodies while almost looking like blades instead of wood.

Muti’s blade flashed through the place where the treant’s fingers grasped onto Astrid’s shield. The wood split as  thick sap leaked from the wounds. As soon as she was freed, Astrid darted back in and pushed Spectre Burst into the head of her hammer as she lunged forward like it was a spear. Despite the trees’ vitality and strength being their forte, the party had long since learned of their particular susceptibility to her finishing Skill. The head of her hammer crushed through the monster’s defenses as the black energy spread within it and made the beast shriek in agony as it recoiled.

“Felix!”

He didn’t need to say anything as he switched positions with Astrid, her going to be a frontliner against the other remaining treant while Felix’s axe made quick work of the heavily wounded treant trunk. Astrid lamented how she had to become the frontliner on the forty-ninth floor, but it was necessary. While Spectre Burst was effective against these tree–like monsters, it was too mana expensive to be the party’s primary method of dealing with the enemies here on this floor. Felix’s axe, though, was a perfect tool for felling trees.

Darkwood Treant slain. 2,100 experience gained, split among party

Astrid continued to occupy the monster’s attention as the kill notification flashed in the corner of her vision, and she continued to fill her position as the rest of the Wanderers worked together to dispatch the final monster. As they did so, Skandr withdrew his cloud back to himself, and the constant electrical field that had surrounded them faded away. That electrical storm, for whatever reason, prevented the monsters from being able to perceive the area around themselves as well as they should. Inside of his spell, instead of being able to strike precisely, they failed wildly and, once they made contact with one of the delvers, they struck desperately at them.

“We’re pretty close to the end of this floor, right?” Astrid asked Muti.

“I believe so,” the Ambusher answered, though her tone was unsure. “It is difficult to be sure when we will arrive in the guardian’s lair. The floor’s mana is more unpredictable by the day, and being positive as to the location of the exit is impossible.“

Astrid grunted in displeasure as she acknowledged that fact, unsurprised, but still unhappy. Each of the floors in the forties had become more difficult to traverse while also being easier to get lost in. Fortunately, Muti’s ability to orientate herself and the rest of the Wanderers was exceptional enough to keep them from being lost for longer than an hour or so on each floor. From there, they always made progress in the correct direction, even if it wasn’t directly towards their goal.

“What do you think the guardian will be?” Skandr grumbled as he looked into the dark, surrounding forest.

“So long as there are fewer than ten of them,” Benedict complained, “I won’t complain.”

“Don’t lie,” Astrid forced a smile on her face. “You’re going to complain if it’s a single rabbit that comes out and rolls over obediently onto its back to let us all get 20,000 experience.”

“Well, it’s every person‘s divine right to be able to complain if it strikes their fancy.”

“Can you play your flute instead of continuing this conversation? It helps us more anyways,” Astrid pleaded.

When Benedict had gotten the Restful Reverberations Skill, telling him to shut up had become counterproductive to the party’s opportunities to recover, and he didn’t hesitate to remind the rest of the party of that fact. Fortunately, despite his general bearing and actions being those of a person who loved to incite others to anger, Benedict only liked to tease his party, not push them to a murderous rage. As soon as Astrid made the request, the flute which had sat almost forgotten in his hand was raised to his lips and began playing a gentle tune that was so soft Astrid almost couldn’t hear it. Even so, she felt the mana all around draw closer to the party.

Ever since she had passed baseline 100’s in all of her attributes, Astrid’s perception of the world around her had changed. She knew that for a Warrior, she had an exceptional mana sensitivity born of her training with her father, and she had trained herself to be able to perceive and understand mana better than most people in her situation. She prided herself on that understanding, and had idly worked on it when she had time to spare. Benedict, a day and a half before she had reached the requisite level, had passed the benchmark of base 100’s and had struggled to explain how he had changed with it.

“I just understand how mana’s at the core of all levels and attributes. It’s not the same as when I passed 100 in all of my mental attributes, but…” He’d then trailed off, and it was uncommon enough that the Bard was left speechless that the rest of the party didn’t push for a firmer explanation. 

Skandr, however, had asked a single question that had been on his mind for a while: “Was it worth it for me to take Warlock’s Constitution instead of Wizard’s Bearing?”

“Absolutely.”

The way that Astrid had slowly come to understand how she had changed was similar to what Benedict had said. As things were now, at level 41, she could begin to understand how mana was the source of her supernatural strength, as well as all of her Skills. Even those that didn’t demand mana, like Immortal Warrior’s Body or Equipment, relied on mana to function. There were subtle thrums of mana that pulsed through her arms and legs to direct her shield and hammer when she struck out, so subtle that she could only notice them if she was suffusing herself with Acumen-aligned mana at the time she activated the other Skills. This mana didn’t come from herself, but was almost as if it came from the air, and was the manifestation of her Blunt Weapons Mastery that had been enveloped into her equipment Skill. When she used a charge of Body, there was a reserve of mana that wasn’t inside of herself, but seemed to be exclusive to her own control that flooded her body and immediately transformed into the health, stamina, and mana that she had lost.

The way that she’d been able to draw mana into herself to replenish her energy was now even more efficient, but Astrid couldn’t begin to understand how it worked. Health and stamina were parts of her body, she was more and more confident of that. However, because they were reserves that’d been brought into existence through the influence of mana, it would appear that it was through the influence of mana that every Skill functioned. 

Astrid didn’t allow herself to get lost in thoughts about how exactly that functioned, though. When she had passed baseline 100’s, Astrid had begun to understand why the Dungeoneers she had met were so strange, especially the Iron tier one. Mana was a force that drove everything, yet refused understanding by the mortal mind. In addition to beginning to see the changes to her body from mana, Astrid felt a difference in the way that controlled mana with her will. It was, as Benedict had said, an understanding that settled over him, but there wasn’t any way to truly explain or express what’d changed even though she could feel and begin to understand it.

Pulling herself from her thinking, Astrid focused on what was in front of her. The treants were dead, and the end of the floor was approaching, and, as far as they could tell, they had less than a day left in the Trials. 

“Have you seen or heard anything from Kalta’s party?” Astrid asked Muti. The Wanderers hadn’t seen hide nor hair of any of the other parties for a while, with the exception of Kalta’s five Barbarians, who, despite their lesser equipment and total lack of spatial pouches, seemed to be thriving. Astrid thought their frames had narrowed somewhat, but even if they’d all lost weight, none seemed to suffer from it. Instead, the Barbarians, when the Wanderers saw them in passing, seemed to be excited at the prospect of fighting more. 

As for the other parties they were competing against, they haven’t seen any Kin in probably weeks, so Astrid didn’t know if they’d managed to get ahead of their party and were now so far beyond that there was no prayer catching up or if the ursine Kin had been left behind after being wounded, but she had to hope it was the second. With her constantly increasing familiarity with Spectre Burst, she was relatively sure that the Kin wouldn’t be able to keep up for a while while they recovered. Of course, the other human parties were all gone, and they’d seen Cresche and his Grove on the forty-third floor, but no others.

That meant that the Hiveguard and Kin could both be ahead of the party, but Astrid doubted it. The Hiveguard had been very easily overpowered by the aggressive Kin and then the bearlike leader of the Kin’s party had taken a Spectre Burst to his arm. Astrid had no idea how long healing from that took, but it certainly wasn’t a quick recovery. As such, she only considered Kalta’s party to be the sole threat to their ability to get the boon.

“I have not seen any trace of them nearby,” Muti answered. “It may be that they have escaped my notice, as this forest is filled with an oppressive mana that clouds the clarity of my senses.”

“If you haven’t felt them nearby,” Astrid shook her head, “then I don’t think they’re close. They haven’t made it a secret whenever they’re close. It’s as if they’re challenging us. That brings up the next question, though: how hard do we push now? Do we run, trying to get to the fiftieth floor Boss without taking our usual rest? Or do we just keep pressing on the way we are now?”

“Ain’t no way I’m taking it easy now,” Benedict was the first to answer, the scorn in his voice obvious. “It’s impossible to tell exactly what happens between floors, and they have been close to us for a while, so I’m not going to relax. One more day isn’t going to be deadly for me with my Skills.”

“If we stop here, I will not be able to continue to associate myself with you,” Muti gave a simple answer.

“Nobody’s saying we’re going to quit,” Astrid chuckled, “just that we’ll need to be taking serious risks if we want to even get a chance at the Boss on the fiftieth floor before the Trials kick us out.”

“If nothing else, we should see if we can get some experience,” Skandr said with a shrug. “I think we’re all going to be ready for at least a little break when this is done, and I can take that time to consolidate my Skills and spells and everything else. If we gain another level and get to 42 before we leave, that gives me plenty of time to work on my enchantments for a good long while and see if I can upgrade that directly to Iron when we get back to delving.”

Felix didn’t say anything, but the smile coloring the corner of his lips as he began to resummon his briefly dismissed helmet was enough of an answer for Astrid. She laughed as she summoned her own helm back onto her head, rolled her shoulders, and looked at Muti.

“A lot of this is on you. Lead us to the floor guardian, and then we’ll see what we can do on this next floor.”

The Ambusher said nothing as she smiled, and then took off at an accelerated pace in front of the rest of the party. With Warlock’s Constitution, Skandr’s Alacrity had passed 100, and he flicked his fingers through a series of sigils to grant himself an additional hastening buff on top of that as the party raced forward. Different from with other fights, the party couldn’t push to quickly dispatch the treants, they were too hardy. As such, they skirted around fights where they could and fought where they needed to. When finally they came to fight against the guardian, they’d been forced to fight twice as they walked into a marsh that made Astrid sink up to her knees. Then, a putrid scent filled the air as the swampy clearing’s water began to ripple.

When the floor guardian, a moss elemental with long tendrils for fingers, showed itself, the Wanderers began shouting instructions to each other and threw themselves into battle.