Chương 43: As Above, So Below

It was the night of the one hundredth and eighty-eighth loop. The group was preparing to leave Lafmere and head for the mountain fortress. Rather than boarding the drake with Lenore, however, Alcyr instead said:"I think I should ride with Ural." Lenore, Vormas, and Ural looked at him — the first indifferent, the second confused, and the third with a grin.

"Getting cold feet with the lady, Butcher?" Ural taunted. Alcyr had an answer ready.

"Your drake is weaker than the others. If the blizzard hits us again, it will be safer for me to be with you so I can strengthen your drake with my skill." It was a sensible and rational lie. Even so, the three responded back almost instantly.

"Lie."

"Lying."

"Liar!" Alcyr's expression did not change, but his eyelid did twitch a little in irritation.

"Nothing I said is untrue."

"Your delivery needs better work," Lenore pointed out.

"It's still too stiff. But the words and reasoning are an improvement."

"It is better than before." Ural gave a thumbs-up.

"Keep trying." Alcyr sighed. No matter what lies he tried in previous attempts, they never fully worked. The group still allowed him to board Ural's drake without further questions, but it didn't like a victory, even if the System thought otherwise. [Persuasion has improved to 34] When they reached the fortress, Lenore gave the same command as before: she would head to the east gate while Ural would head to the west. The only difference was the passenger on each drake.

Right after that, however, Alcyr saw the rocfiend dove at Lenore from above and attacked her mount. The two monsters spiralled out of sight, lost beneath the snowy darkness of the night.

"Should we help them?" Ural shouted over the wind. Alcyr shook his head.

"Lenore will be fine. Stick to her instructions and head to the west gate."

"Not even a thought for poor Vormas?" Ural tsked.

"I'm pretty sure I saw him fall off the drake when that rocfiend hit them…" Alcyr kept his silence. Ural didn't ask further and flew to the west gate as instructed.

"There." Alcyr pointed.

"Do you see that?" The rampart up to the west gate was on fire, deterring most of the raging enemy warband from attacking. The Regulars were using ranged weapons — arrows, crossbow bolts, and javelins — to pick off the foe one by one. They were successfully thinning the herd a kill at a time. However, some distance behind, a giant figure approached.

"Saint's balls, that's the One-Eyed Baron," Ural swore.

"The cyclops has a good bounty on his head. Butchered hundreds of peasants, killed several squads of Regulars over the course of the war, and ate at least three of our drakes. It's going to break through that gate like a—""I get it. Fly over it, as high as you can."

"High? We can't hit it from up high! What's your plan here?"

"Trust me. You'll like it."

"Ha! Alright, then! As high as she goes!" Ural pulled the reins, directing his drake to soar closer to the cavern ceiling. Once it reached the apex — positioned over the giant, who was now moving up the burning rampart — Alcyr stood. He drew his sword, the silverite blade glinting from the reflection of the inferno below. Ural blinked.

"Um, what are you doing?"

"Jumping."

"What are you…" Ural trailed off. The realisation hit him.

"Y-you can't be serious! What if you miss?!"

"I won't." Well, hopefully not this time. Alcyr took a step. His feet meet empty air. And then, he was in free fall. Do not panic, he told himself as the wind howled in his ear, pushing aside the animal fear that arose with practised ease. Focus on the target. His skill, Fall Control, kicked in. Now sufficiently high-levelled, he gained a semblance of influence over his body while in free fall, allowing him to inexplicably steer himself to a limited degree.

When he was a second away from impact, he shouted:"LOOK UP!" The cyclops, predictably, looked up. Alcyr could see the reflection of his sword reflected in its large blue eye. He triggered all his Artes at once: Cleave. Power Strike. Red March Swordplay. Grand Hunt's End. The sliverite blade blazed into power. And then… Impact. It felt like violently popping an overbloated cyst. His sword hit a literal bullseye — striking dead centre on the pale-blue iris. The blade exited through the back of the cyclops's skull.

Freezing blood erupted everywhere. It didn't stop there. His sword kept going, the momentum of the fall driving it down past the head, through the neck, and into the chest, splitting the front of the cyclops into two. Alcyr gritted as his arms felt like they were going to be torn right off, but he held on. His sword finally stopped when it reached the monster's stomach, a bloody blue trench of parted flesh above it.

Alcyr planted his feet on the cyclops's thigh and pulled, his sword coming free as he landed on the group. The bisected cyclops, moved by his push, fell backwards. It crashed onto the ground loudly, quite dead. [Sneak Attack has improved to 35] [Fall Control has improved to 24] [Grand Hunt's End has improved to 23] [New Skill: Plunging Attack 1 (Uncommon)] Finally. Finally. It had taken over a dozen tries to get it right. The number of times he ended up splat or crippled on the ground had been embarrassing.

There were also those occasions where he hit the cyclops but ended up dislocating his arms or failing to kill it because he hit its shoulder instead of its head. But it was done. He had finally got the proper timing and the accuracy down. Alcyr could now instantly kill the frost cyclops, saving not only the compound from being overrun, but also gaining himself more than enough time to intercept the frost wyrm before it could make its ice nest.

He walked up to the gates, ignoring the horde that was staring at him or the corpse of the cyclops. The freezing blood on his skin and his Fire Resistance skill easily countering the inferno blocking the ramparts.

"Where the hell did you come from?!" One of the Regulars atop the gate shouted.

"Wait a minute, I know you! You're the damn Butcher! You can fly now?!" Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"Not yet. But I can fall. Open the gates!" The Regulars obeyed, too dazed to do otherwise. They had watched in despair as an infamous man-eating monster had strode up their ramparts with a small army at its back, only to be saved by an infamous peasant in full armour falling from the sky. Alcyr ignored the incredulous or awestruck looks sent his way as he walked through the metal doors. From above, Ural descended, the wingbeats of his drake buffeting against him.

"By all the balls of the Twelve!" the shock trooper roared with laughter.

"I can't believe you did that! I'm definitely adding that to the ballad!"

"You can do that later. Gather a few soldiers here and go secure the other gate. With the cyclops dead, it shouldn't take more than a few Regulars here to hold the west entrance."

"What about you? Are you going to help the captain?"

"No. I'm heading to try and kill another pest." He had now definitively solved one of his four problems. Now, he had to solve the other. And this one was probably going to require a crazier solution than simply jumping off a flying drake.

The two hundredth loop passed. It was the longest he had ever been in a time loop and, paradoxically, the least stressful. He wasn't in constant pain, nor was he strapped for resources or even comforts. He always woke up warm and with someone at his side, his days were reasonably long, and his location in Lafmere allowed him much variety in how he chose to spend the time to improve himself. That being said, he was reaching the limit of what he could reap from the current Well.

His skill growths were really starting to slow, even discounting those over level 50. In particular, once a skill reached the Elite tier at level 41, it became much, much harder to level them, even with the experience-rich environments he was in. Disheartening as the middling progression might be, there were still moments of breakthrough that lifted his spirits every now and then. The first was when he finally, finally reached the Master tier.

[Sword Discipline has improved to 61] [New Title: Low Master] It had taken an ungodly amount of time to get those last few levels for Sword Discipline to hit level 61, even with the experience bonus from his titles and the Blessed Blood Mystery. Alcyr didn't want to imagine how much longer it would take if he didn't have them. No wonder most nobles never hit the Master tier, even with their inherited blessings… The exponential experience requirement past Level 51 is ridiculous.

It was a grim reminder that he would have to seek out more Mysteries and experience-boosting effects if he wished to advance further, because as it stood, even the experience multiplier from facing life-and-death combat wasn't enough on its own anymore — not if he wished to grow at a reasonable time frame of a few hundred resets rather than wasting a lifetime worth of loops in future Wells. I'll also have to be careful not to let Lenore or Faldren use the Appraisal Orb on me.

To them, I had gone from a Low Elite to a Low Master in the span of barely a month. Everyone would fully suspect him to be of royal blood if news of that got out. At the very least, very powerful people would grow suspicious enough to investigate. Aside from the Low Master title, he had also finally hit the awakening condition for the next stage of his Mystery, Blessed Blood.

[Mystery: Blessed Blood of Violence] Awakening condition: Slay Monsters (100/100) Mystery Stage: Awakened → Aspiring One hundred monster kills — an insane feat for any lone warrior. Alcyr wondered at the logistical nightmare it must have been for barbarian prodigies to hit that target within their lifetimes. Regardless, he had done it. In the next loop, he eagerly sought the oracle to analyse his newest Mystery stage.

[Mystery: Blessed Blood of Violence] Effect (Dormant): Drastically increases experience gain for skills and Artes related to the Path of Violence. Drastically increases odds of gaining skills and Artes related to the Path of Violence. Increases strength and aggression in combat, and doubles this bonus when facing Beast-type, Evil-aligned, or Blighted creatures. All effects scale with the current stage.

Effect (Awakened) — With the user's permission, grants one random Rare-tier ability associated with the Path of Violence for the categories of Combat Skills, Life Skills, and Artes each. Grants a major affinity boost to Beasts. Slightly increases the chance for any Combat Skill or Arte to mutate to a higher rarity. Effect (Aspiring) — Choose one combat skill. That skill will immediately mutate to the Epic rarity.

Once per Title Tier starting from the Low Grandmaster tier, one random skill or Arte will mutate to the Epic rarity, prioritising lower-rarity skills related to the Path of Violence. Effect (Grand) — Locked Awakening condition: Slay Monsters (0/2500) An Epic skill! The fact that it was a mutation that he could choose was even better! Mutations kept the skill's levels, meaning Alcyr could choose to have his Level 61 Sword Discipline skill upgraded straight to a Level 61 Epic weapon-type skill!

The other benefit was immense as well — one free skill mutation to the Epic rarity for every tier title advancement, starting from Low Grandmaster. The fact that it was random was a bit of a disappointment, but it was still an Epic rarity mutation. Alcyr now had an avenue to obtain skills in the elusive higher rarities that the System usually kept locked away. Each stage keeps getting better and better. No wonder the kingdom goes out of its way to preserve higher-potency bloodlines…

What would the Grand stage give me, I wonder? Thoughts for another time. Right now, he had to stop his head from getting too far in the cloud and focus on the present. Aside from the new Aspiring stage bonuses, the effects of the Dormant stage would also be bolstered, since the description says it scales with the current stage.

That meant the increased experience gain was now further improved, though Alcyr did not know how much it would counteract against the exponential experience requirement for Master-tier skills. Any little bit helps at this point. The next Awakening condition had him torn between laughing and cursing. Two thousand and five hundred monster kills — a mind-boggling number. Were they even one thousand monsters left in the entirety of the north, let alone two?

Alcyr couldn't imagine that many cyclops, rocfiends, or wyrms were still roaming the tundra in those numbers, not when such a large population of Northmen still existed. The barbarian tribes would surely either hunt them down or be driven out of the north at this point. Perhaps I shouldn't be surprised. It is a 'Grand' stage awakening, after all. The Kingdom of Morwyn might not have them, but the lower and more chaotic worlds would hold such vast numbers of monsters.

I'll probably need to venture beyond at some point to fulfil that Awakening condition. Either that, or he could repeat killing the cyclops from above over two thousand times to complete the awakening — not an entirely unpleasant option, since a 'Grand' stage bonus would be immense, but the thought of being stuck doing the same thing for over five years made Alcyr grimace. Thoughts for later. For now, my skill mutation. Without further hesitation, Alcyr prompted the System to mutate his Sword Discipline skill.

He saw a brief flicker of amber — the hue of the Path of Violence. A painful tremour ran through him, as if the nerves of his muscles were set alight all at once. Alcyr hissed and twitched, causing the oracle's guards to immediately tense. The pain departed after a second. His arms felt tingly — an unfamiliar memory forced into them. After taking a moment to relax his tensed muscles, he read the notification.

[Mystery: Blessed Blood of Violence] Skill Mutated: Sword Discipline 61 (Common) New Skill: Tempestuous Sword Dance 61 (Epic) He felt… powerful. There was a wild strength surging in his veins, begging to be released. The hand that was not holding the oracle's fingers was twitching, driven by a near-violent urge to hold a sword.

"Release her, now!" Alcyr blinked. He had been so distracted he didn't even notice a blade at his throat. The oracle's bodyguards were already standing beside him, weapons drawn. The Blessed Blood roared in his body, demanding him to fight. Right. The detrimental effects of the Mystery that increases my aggression… It's even stronger now that I've advanced it to the Aspiring stage. With great difficulty, Alcyr tamed the violence rising within him.

His body was trembling as he bit on his lips hard enough to draw blood. Slowly, he released the oracle's fingers. They were bruising, he realised. He held onto her hand hard enough to nearly crush her bones. He felt ashamed at his involuntary loss of control. The burden of his Mystery was no excuse — this failing to master his own power was his alone.

"I'm sorry." The oracle shook her head — not in judgement, but in understanding.

"Impudence," the female bodyguard said coldly.

"We should kill you for this." Lenore immediately stood.

"We will pay the cost for her recovery. Surely you can see he did not do it on purpose. It is the effect of a Mystery."

"The intent does not matter. He has harmed the oracle — a vital agent of the king," the large bodyguard stated.

"By the rules of the law, we are permitted to execute him immediately." Lenore's expression darkened. To Alcyr's surprise, he felt a sinister and drastic spike in her aura. It was only for a fleeting moment — so fast that he almost thought he had mistaken it — but what flashed within her did not feel like the mere strength of a Master. The two bodyguards froze. Before they could move, the oracle raised her uninjured hand. She brought the hand underneath the veil of her face.

Hidden from sight, she bit her glove and pulled it off, before presenting her other hand to Alcyr. He blinked.

"You wish to continue?" She nodded. The bodyguard protested immediately.

"My Lady, you cannot be serious! At least let us tend to your wounds first!" Slowly, the oracle turned to face her. Though no words transpired, there was a sense that something was communicated — an electric tingle in the mind; a foreboding twitch in psychic space. The bodyguards flinched and immediately bowed deep.

"We apologise. Your will, our orders." The two immediately sheathed their weapons and stepped back beside the oracle. Alcyr glanced at Lenore. She frowned but gestured for him to continue. He nodded to the oracle.

"Thank you." He took her other hand — making doubly sure to keep his hold gentle — before accessing his System once more. The description of his newest skill — his strongest skill — appeared. [Ability Description] Tempestuous Sword Dance: Upon a world where the rain fell without end, the fury of frenzied sky gods was tamed by the sword dance of a nameless warrior. Chant the aria of the storm and transform the wrath of the caged tempest into a blade of purest destruction.