Chương 22: -22- Ugly Truth

Calder - Still Stone Barrow"Oh my gods above and below, grant me the strength." Calder said in a deeply weary voice as he staggered slowly under the weight of his load.

"None of that. Left foot, right foot, pick up the pace!" Dectus said in a cruel tone.

"How is this even training?" Calder rumbled, back rivulets of sweat running down him as he finally made it back into the dim false white light of the city.

"How could it not be!? If I could carry a fucking carriage worth of ore back in my day to build strength, I sure as shit would have, but unlike you, I wasn't built like the gods decided to restart the giant races." The dim light of the grand cavern finally came into view and Calder made it the last few steps out into the light "Ugghhh." He stumbled to his knee, slowly unslinging his load and letting it clatter onto the ground before simply lying down next to it, gasping like a fish out of water.

"I… huff… hufff… might need to up my stats before I try climbing all the way out with the risk of darkness looming." Dectus didn't respond, but Calder was just starting to take those moments as he agreed and was conserving the grasp for when he had something pithy to say. Calder looked around hoping for an obviously sealable room, but of course there was no luck in the barren prison courtyard. With a resigned sigh he pulled himself to his feet.

Calder knew his best shot was in the sprawling bottom layer of the pale city; it stretched all around the prison, so he wouldn't have to stay in the open for long. He could try and just climb the stairs, as he was in a straight shot, but… at his current pace that would be a terrifyingly long time in the open, and if something went wrong, he would be damn near ready to keel over already at the start of the fight.

Calder staggered from the courtyard, heading straight for the nearest section of the bottom tier of the pale city. The light overhead flickered a single time, causing his heart to damn near leap from him, and he staggered faster. With all the wounds and the weight, he wasn't doing too great. The closest street had a pair of the undead aimlessly staggering down the street the moment he saw them. Calder didn't even veer; he just kept shuffling forward until they were in reach.

"Oh, fuck off!" With a pained grunt, he swung the sack containing all the dark steel fragments. It swept through both of the minor undead, pulverizing bone and knocking their mangled remains against a nearby wall with a wet slap. He didn't stop to finish them off; he just kept shuffling towards the most promising-looking building. It was squat and wide with a smaller second story and swinging front doors. He prayed that taverns were the same a few hundred years ago because this sure as hell looked like one.

Calder stumbled the last few steps into the building, nearly falling as he pushed past the doors. The interior was eerily intact compared to the shreds he had seen in homes before. The tables were made from some kind of thin white metal that was woven into pleasing patterns. Smaller versions of the glowing white crystal lighting the city were set like sconces every few strides on the wall. The bar, despite being wooden, was even still intact, a fine, heavily varnished hunk of dark wood.

That he promptly dumped his cargo onto the top of. Blessedly it didn't break. Calder sank onto an ancient stool. It immediately broke under his weight, and he hit the floor with a dull thud.

"Oh screw this place." A shambling figure wandered from a hallway out into the dining area where Calder was slumped.

"Ughh... can we not..." Calder grumbled but staggered up and just grabbed the nearest whole-looking stool. He eyed the hallway; the ragged undead was stumbling from it. It looked like it might have intact inn rooms. He suddenly felt a lot more motivated to move forward at the prospect of some blessed sleep. The undead lunged, and Calder swung the stool in a wide backhand. Brain, bone, and wood showered across the doorframe. Calder stepped past the mess and was deeply pleased to see a neat row of well-made doors.

He walked up to the first and grabbed the handle. It was locked. He jiggled it slightly in disbelief. Instead of brute-forcing it, he took a calming breath and stepped to the next door, giving that one a try as well. Also locked. With a barely restrained grimace, he stepped a stride to his left and tried again. The doorknob didn't turn. Calder put both hands on it, squeezed so hard the metal dented in slightly, and twisted with his whole body. There was a sharp PING sound, and the door swung open.

"See unlocked..." He said with a chuckle that died as the door finished opening, revealing a dozen tightly packed figures pressed together in the dark. One by one wretched twisted faces turned slowly towards the sliver of light he had cast into the dark room. Calder could see a high window that was broken and had hunks of flesh, likely where these things had crawled through to lurk in the darkness. They looked different from the other undead, much more than just hollow shambling corpses.

These creatures had fanged jaws that hung open wide and tongues trailing free. Their skin was a grey-black that clung to not-quite-human frames. He managed to use his spotter in the moment of hesitation that they showed towards the light. [Shadow Lurker Tier-1](lvl15): "Oh fuck…" was all Calder managed before the tightly packed group surged towards him. He hooked his right hand around the door and managed to pull it mostly shut on the frontmost monster, pinning it in between the stout door and the stone wall.

Then the others clamored, reaching past their trapped companion with long, clawed fingers. Calder held on with his right arm and hooked a pair of savage blows into the abominations face. Its teeth cut his knuckles to the bone but he left it's face a pulp. As soon as it fell, another three clambered into the gap. Dectus flashed into action. He reaped around himself in a series of brief wide slashes that took off heads and arms.

For a pair of heartbeats Dectus worked from their midst, a shower of blood surrounding him, and then suddenly he was gone. He had cut a hole into their ranks, but they were still trying to clamber through the half-shut door. Calder knew exactly what had happened. Dectus had used the bit of grasp left to do as much damage as he could as fast as he could.

[Grasp of the beyond: 0/100] [Gaze of the Beyond 39/100] Calder pushed the door open abruptly and stepped in, dropping his left shoulder into the faces of the snapping beasts. He felt flesh and cloth tear as they managed to get some bites off, but he made the room he was looking for. His left hand shot in to rest beside his right on the door, and he heaved it closed with all his might. There was a sick crunch, and he pulled harder, slowly crushing and bisecting the beasts reaching through the door.

The front three crumpled sickly bodies mashed, and he tried to relax for a moment, but two more clambered over the growing pile of corpses obstructing the doorway. Their frenzied assault made Calder lose his blood slicked grip on the door, and they drove him back into the hallway. One latched onto his left arm, the other he managed to grab by the throat. As he fell backward, he dashed the one he held against the stone wall, mangling it to the point that it couldn't move its arms.

A swift elbow into its struggling body crushed something important in its back, and it fell still. He staggered up and turned his eyes onto the one latched onto his arm, its teeth piercing into the meat of his forearm. With a swift motion, he pulled Dectus's broken blade from his side and jammed it down into the top of the creature's skull. He ignored the waves of essence pouring into him. And hurried to clear the bodies from the doorway.

Blood loss was starting to win, and he was losing his balance, his vision winking into dim greys along with the weak beat of his heart. I officially hate this place. He needed to level up; he needed to fucking sleep, and most importantly, he had just learned that if the lights went out again, it wasn't only the massive monster that would be stalking the darkened streets.

If this many were in one inn room, he shuddered to think of the hundreds, if not thousands, of them strewn throughout the city in every dark place imaginable. Calder tossed the last of the bodies into the hallway and staggered into the room. He heaved the stout bedframe over to the door jamming it against it as a barricade. He looked at the small window covered in bloody smears they had all gotten in through and then around the room for some way to block it.

He settled on taking the metal washbowl and simply punching it into the stone window frame until it deformed enough to block easy access. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it Alright, they will have to really work to pry that bitch out and… He fell heavily onto the bed. Good luck getting the door open with me here. Oh, shit, the darksteel….

The last thought Calder had before he slipped into his sanctuary was that it would probably be fine anyway; it wasn't like someone could just come and carry it off easily. His descent into his sanctuary was violent, like barreling through a blizzard that tore flesh and soul. His view shifted as his consciousness settled into his sanctuary. Suddenly he stood waist-deep in a thick snowbank at the foot of the stone staircase. The expanse of the beyond glimmered overhead like a perversion of the starry night sky.

The domain's above twinkled distantly like beacons of hope occasionally snuffed from sight as beings beyond his understanding moved through the endless sky. Calder took a deep breath of the frigid air, almost relishing the feeling of the blizzard whipping around him.

"Oh man I hadn't realized how damn stagnant the air in the dungeon was." He ignored the plinth rising above him; he didn't have any need to go poke around on that particularly creepy platform. No, he was here to solidify his gains, take the essence he had earned through blood and pain, and turn it into power. He knew he couldn't just keep pumping up his strength forever. Every class had soft caps on attributes. A point where it took exponentially increasing essence to raise an attribute higher.

This soft cap depended on your class. Calder was a knight with a decidedly Eldritch splash added to it, so he figured his limits would be reasonably balanced and he doubted he was close yet. Of course, those soft caps went up if he reached tier two after breaking his 100th level trial. But that was so far in the future it wasn't worth him even musing over it now. He was half dead, weaponless, and wearing rags at the bottom of a dead city.

He stalked through his mausoleum, each step bringing the familiar spiderwebbing cracks of shattering ice across the otherwise starkly barren room. He walked right up to his core statue and took a good look at how it had changed; his steps faltered slightly. He knew this would change over time, but it still didn't prepare him for how the system itself was starting to view him. Gone were the almost kindly overtones to the depiction of him. Instead, it showed a battered and bloody hulk of a man, face snarling in rage.

One of his feet rested on a shattered and frozen body, his broken sword wedged in its back. His hands were wrapped around the throat of a shadowy figure with too many eyes. Taking shelter behind him was a small, indistinct group of spectral figures. At the head, Dectus stood protectively. That… wow… Don't overthink it, Calder; just spend your essence. It's showing you as a defender, a protector. You can live with that. What you look like when you do it isn't going to be pretty.

Real life never is, and the system isn't going to sugarcoat what it sees. You just slew something like fourty undead. Trekked to the bottom of a hellish pit after dueling with yet more horrors. Then decided to take on something you shouldn't have… broke your weapons… killed a bunch of monsters with a door. How am I not dead? Calder suddenly felt dizzy at the surge of almost overwhelming emotions.

This was the first time he was really allowing himself to consider how horrific everything had been since he accepted this class. And try as he might to think of what he could have done differently, his sheer brutality had kept him alive. Calder secretly had of course been hoping to be the knight in shining armor. Or at least a respected warrior that people like his niece and sister could look up too. Have his grandfather gaze upon him proudly. That hope was dead.

He didn't want them to see what it would take to keep them safe. He knew if they saw what he could really do. Who he really was when pressed into life or death. Well, no one would look at him the same again. I just have to get strong enough that the horrors can never visit home again, then. Calder's attempt at comforting himself with that thought led to a gallows chuckle that died almost as soon as it had started. With a sigh of resignation, Calder placed his hand on his core statue.

He closed his eyes and felt the biting winds, the way the tree's outside groaned, nearly frozen through. He grasped onto that feeling and pulled it towards himself. The mausoleum shuddered as it filled with swirling icy potential. Calder began suffusing it into his statue with a simple goal. Power, over whelming force. He envisioned himself swinging an impossibly heavy weapon with swift clean strikes that cleaved into armor with the force of a falling mountain.

The essence rushed into his sculpture and he could feel it suffusing muscle and bone strengthening ligaments so they could exert unholy force. Abruptly he shifted his image briefly cutting off the torrent of potential. This time he held a familiar image in his head the claws of a ghoul digging into his flesh, but they merely scraped the surface their teeth only puncturing the slightest bit into the meat below as if they bit into leather armor and not supple flesh.

The essence poured in once again further increasing the toughness of his body. Finally, he paused one last time. Unsure if this would even work the way he intended, but he let essence trickle into the statue. And focused on the tiny roiling mote of tranquility inside himself. He squeezed that mote with the flow, trying to compress what was there to strengthen the metaphysical container inside himself and make room for more than ever to flow in.

With a gasp, he staggered back, and the rivers of snow and sleet that had been pouring around him fell or swirled back into the aimless mercy of the wind. He pulled up his enhanced attributes hesitantly, praying he hadn't made a mistake in his visualization. Or put too much or little essence into any of them. Enhanced Attributes Physical Resistance: 2. 6 Strength: 2. 0 Capacity, Grasp Of The Beyond: 1. 3 [0/130]"Ha, yes!"

Calder boomed, thrilled that he had actually managed to increase his ability to store the Beyond. He could wield noticeably more tranquility now if he could get better at topping it off. With that, though, he glanced around at how much essence was left. It was a mild winter storm now with winds that more caressed than attacked, but it was still bitterly cold, and a haze of snowflakes remained. Even after all that, I still got some essence left. Damn, this was a profitable delve.

My strength is twice what it was pre-class. I'm damn near three times as physically tough, and I'm starting to actually figure out how to use my questionable magic. Now let's see about making some changes to that questionable magic. Calder stepped outside and glanced between Make Material and Shepard of Souls. He was really hoping after he completed his 25th level trial he would be offered some kind of tranquility skill.

His shaping was coming along slowly, but having an actual skill to base it off of would make his ability to use it in combat vastly smoother. Of course, he could also be offered something more knight-aligned, like empowered blows or bursts of power. He was getting ahead of himself again, so with a shrug he stepped up to Shepherd of Souls.

"Alright so! I'm pretty new to this whole building my class stuff. And, uhh, I'm really not sure how far I can stretch the original purpose of a skill. So, uhh, if this could work, that would be great." Calder stared at the sculpture for a moment, feeling pained at his attempt at levity.

"Man, I have to stop talking to myself." He slapped a hand onto Shepard of Souls. What he was trying here was... odd. The skill was made to pass souls that were trapped on this plane to the other side. It was intrinsically astoundingly powerful. It tore open a rift between the realms with little more than a thought if it was in the presence of a spirit. Then he simply got what spilled out from the passing of the soul as his reward.

A way to quickly fill his grasp of the beyond, but only if he was in the presence of ghosts he was willing to banish forever. And the only way he had right now that didn't involve instantly attracting the attention of all the horrors beyond the veil. Calder wanted to see if he could get the skill to act as a half measure. Calder began trickling essence into Shepard of Souls. He pictured a far less dramatic scene than usually played out.

Instead of him opening a tear between worlds, he imagined the already weak barrier where lost souls wandered and pictured the skill permeating that barrier, letting in minuscule wisps of tranquility. In his mind's eye an area with enough spirits slowly became hazy. Shadowy as the ghosts' very presence was used to attract the tranquility through the thin barrier. Calder felt the gentle tug on his essence surge violently. His entire sanctuary shuddered as the snow and wind stilled abruptly.

The temperature skyrocketed as every scrap of the storm poured into Shepherd of Souls. With a sound like the cracking of ice, the essence depleted, and Calder let out a deep breath, unsure if the change he had tried had even worked. Or if his image had been imperfect, hells, or if he just hadn't had enough essence. He opened his full status to see what he had wrought.

[Calder Loamish Tier-1](lvl23) [Remnant Soul Knight](Unique) [Talents] [Shadows Bane Aura] Your presence exuded danger and death to beings not of this world. The severity and effect of the intimidating aura depend upon the power of relevant entities as well as your actions against the forces not of this world. This effect has a lesser but noticeable impact against living foes.

[Passive Toggleable: Grasp of the beyond drain-low] [Tranquility Shaping] Wield the energies of the domain beyond life, beyond the warmth of the gods, and learn to shape them to your will. [Friend Of The Lost] Allows you to see beyond the material and view souls that have failed to pass on. As well as see creatures that dwell in both the materium and immaterium, preying upon lost souls.

[Skills] [Make Material](lvl 4) You may utilize your grasp of the beyond to make immaterial entities such as specters and ghosts material. Approved entities may draw on Make Material as they wish. [Drain upon Grasp of the Beyond: Minor] [Shepherd of Souls](lvl 5) Gain the power to tear the veil and send souls along their path to the godly domain they belong within. Your grasp of the beyond may be quickly restored while the veil is open. Be cautious; nothing is ever taken without notice.

The remnant knight may use the presence of immaterial or otherworldly entities to draw tranquility slowly across the boundary between realms. (Things from beyond may spill forth if the veil is ever made too thin). Grasp Of The Beyond: 0/130 Gaze Of The Beyond: 10/100 Enhanced Attributes Physical Resistance: 2. 6 Strength: 2. 0 Capacity Grasp Of The Beyond 1. 3 [0/130] Hot damn, now... now we are working with some tools.

Ahh, it feels almost cheap that I always have an immaterial entity by me that will be increasing my ability to gather tranquility. Probably still not nearly as good as normal mana regeneration, but we will see. That warning though… another one that boils down to "don't get greedy." If I draw upon too many ghosts or Kalderan horrors at once, I might make the veil thin enough for something scary to slip through. Noted.