Chương 50: Burning Hot Staff

With a satisfied sigh, I step free of the cobblestone building, a new mattress in hand. The staff lying on the ground nearby gives me an idea. I set the mattress gently against the wall and pick up the mage's weapon. Mirroring the mage, I hold the staff at my waist as if I'm hip firing a gun. With One Mind/Two Bodies still running, I move the mana in my body toward my hands. Some of the mana escapes as wisps that quickly dissipate, spots where my hands aren't touching the staff. I quickly correct the action.

To my surprise and joy, the mana enters the staff. I can actually feel my mana travelling through it as if it were part of my body. With a grin, I continue funneling. Knew it! It was a bit of a gamble to think the fireball came from the staff and not one of the mage's skills, but it paid off. The mana in the staff shifts, taking invisible pathways, diverging and curving in complicated shapes. Once it fills to the tip and all the shapes connect, a small ball of flame appears.

"Hahahaha!" I yell with joy. A grin full of teeth grows on my face. The ball gets larger at a much slower pace than when the mage made it. It's expected. It has actual stats for this kind of thing, plus more experience. The last dregs of my mana, still low from healing this morning, enter the staff. A few more seconds, and all my mana passes through, forming a fireball only slightly smaller than the mage's. Joy turns to confusion. The ball just… sits there.

I thrust the staff forward a little, but the fireball stays attached statically to a certain point in front of the head. Up and down, left and right. I shake the staff around and swing it, but the fireball stays stubbornly in place. How the hell do I shoot this thing? Without extra mana, I can't manipulate the mana inside the staff or the fireball anymore. Slowly, the fireball starts dissipating. Dang it! Finally, I give up and swing swing the staff like a hammer, hitting the side of the stone building.

The fireball explodes and casts napalm that runs down the side of the stone wall, evaporating a second later.

"Heehee," I giggle to myself. I did magic. Still, it's a bit frustrating that I couldn't figure out how to shoot it. Hmm. I tap my finger against my chin. Maybe Brax knows how to operate it. After a shrug, I walk back to the carnage I created. A quick trip around the bodies allows me to stow a healthy twenty pouches of chicken legs. Well, I know they aren't from chickens, but they might as well be. All of the pouches hang awkwardly from the back of my chestpiece.

While I'm at it, I finally trade my horribly abused metal leggings for some leather ones from a nameless warrior. It has less coverage, but the mind-melting grinding sound from overworking the metal is at last out of my ears. I walk around and collect all of my things before leaving. On one hand, I carry two longswords and the staff. In the other, I carry my new mattress. On my back is enough meat to hold a feast. Sadly, my shoes were a part of the metal leggings. The leather replacements don't have such a thing.

Hobgoblin feet are too different from my own, so I can't even wear them. Which means I'm going barefoot. That would usually be a problem, but the existence of several body augmentations and a fortitude of fifty-something easily makes up for it. In fact, I would take this over my pre-system shoes and feet. I check everything one more time before leaping my way over the wall. My stamina still feels more than high enough to continue going, but I have too much loot to leave here, so I decide to go home.

I keep my deep, lunging steps more careful than usual with all of my baggage. The system screen appears in front of my eyes as I glide across the ground. [You have slain (II) Hobgoblin Lord lv. 18] [You have slain (II) Hobgoblin(lv. 2) - (lv. 4) x24] [Partial experience granted x50] [Companionship Pact Leader(lv. 23) > (lv. 24)] [(II) High Human(lv. 8) > (lv. 9)] [You have discovered a reward] [Accept(132) / Bank / Consolidate] Only one more level until my next skill.

The starting skill for Companionship Pact Leader has been amazing, so I'm expecting a lot. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. As for the rewards, I've decided to collect them all into one lump sum. If I'm unlucky, I'll get more armor or some sort of accessory. But I don't think the system will leave me hanging after watching me switch weapons after every fight. The thought of my old gauntlets brings a frown to my face. It leads me to inspect my hand.

Bone has grown so much around the knuckles that my hands are starting to take on a more machine-like form. The joints in particular are becoming far more angular, locking together whenever I close my fist. What kind of gauntlets can I even wear at this point? I slow my steps into a scuffling stop as I approach my base. Awkwardly, I pull the door up and close it behind myself. Brax is in the same position as when I left, holding a rock in his hands while sitting cross-legged on the ground.

It almost looks like he's meditating.

"Honey! I'm home!" I say with a cheeky grin. He sputters, looking at me like I'm insane.

"Honey!?" he yells back, appalled. A hearty laugh erupts from my mouth as I walk to the fountain and unload my collections.

"Me!? Honey!?" he stands up with an indescribable emotion. My amusement grows the more bewildered he becomes.

"It's just a joke," I say with petering chuckles. Before he can respond, I hold out the non-shooty side of the staff to him. Upon seeing the staff, most of his outrage disappears, leaving curiosity.

"I made a fireball with this, but I couldn't figure out how to shoot it. Can you give it a look?" Without responding, he takes it in both hands and closes his eyes. A few seconds pass as I stare at him, but he doesn't do anything. With a shrug, I walk over to my new bed and sit down, pulling open a pouch of legged meat. Somehow, it's still moist, even if somewhat cold. I've been in the dungeon for a while now, which makes it strange that it's not dried out and rotting yet.

Didn't see any refrigeration, and this doesn't taste smoked. Probably just some system magic. Or regular magic. I'm not sure how to spot the difference.

"Oh, that's neat," Brax says, eyes still closed and nodding to himself. I raise an eyebrow. His eyes open.

"System items are always interesting to look at."

"Why so?" I ask.

"Well, they don't follow norms that crafters usually use. This staff, for example, has the entire formation worked into itself. The fireball launches itself if you clear the rest of the mana from the staff."

"Really? Is it that easy?"

"Yeah, it surprised me too. I've seen training instruments more complicated than this. The system clearly intended for you to use it easily. Most runes you'll come across will have complicated machinations for every part of a spell's process." As he speaks, he rubs his hands lovingly over the staff.

"A little less versatile, but still an amazing piece of work." He holds the thing like his firstborn. My head shakes in surrender as I watch. This guy's never going to get a girlfriend.

"If you like it that much, you can have it."

"Really!?" He asks with stars in his eyes.

"Sure, it's a bit too slow for my fighting style, anyway." I'm definitely taking it back later. No way I'm giving up a cool ass fireball staff forever. Brax wastes no time, rushing back to his normal seat and meditating with the staff in his hands. I grab a couple of drumsticks and hoark them down along with water from the fountain. With not enough mana to do any meaningful healing, and too much stamina and health to sleep, I return to the door. This time, I don't bother Brax as I leave.

I carry nothing except a longsword in each hand. The return journey is far quicker now that I don't have such a heavy load. It doesn't take much time before I pass the midway point, signalled by the transfer between wood and stone. Just running this far after fighting makes the increases from high human's musculature plain as day. Can't I get a single active skill? I eventually make it to the area that I was near before, with smallish encampments.

There's no reason to stop and think, so I continue my lunges and leap over the nearest wall. The inside is no different from the last, with one campfire, one stone building, and a collection of cabins. Ten hobgoblins sit in a circle around the fire in the center, grunting to each other in their strange language. [(II) Hobgoblin lv. 4] [Highest stat: Agility] [Lowest stat: Wisdom] [(II) Hobgoblin lv. 4] [Highest stat: Endurance] [Lowest stat: Intelligence] [(II) Hobgoblin lv. 4] [Highest stat: Strength] [Lowest stat: Wisdom] [(II) Hobgoblin lv. 3] [Highest stat: Fortitude] [Lowest stat: Wisdom] Even the troops are weaker. The thought pulls the corners of my lips down. As I hit the ground, I buffer the landing and spring toward the group. The hobgoblins on the other side of the fire barely have time to reach for weapons or make noise as I arrive. My arm pulls back, slamming the edge of the sword into the nearest warrior's neck and sending it flying to the side, head detached.

The first enemy screams as I pierce through the next warrior's chest. My sword penetrates the leather chestpiece like butter. I dance through the ranks of the goblins, cutting, slicing, and piercing. It becomes crystal clear that I have no skill with the sword. There are no feints, efficient movements that pull into each other, or stable footwork. Still, it's more than enough to swing like a barbarian, cutting through the shafts of spears and axes like twigs.

The leader of this camp bursts out of the main cobblestone building, looking alarmed. My body reacts instantly, abandoning its movement and jerking to the side to rush at the leader. It has biceps at least as wide as the mage lord's thighs, with furs over its body instead of actual clothing. Standing a head over me, it paints a fighting picture. [(II) Hobgoblin Lord lv. 20] [Highest stat: Endurance] [Lowest stat: Agility] Its vision narrows as it sees me dashing.

It pulls a double-sided war-axe from behind its back and swings it over head with a single smooth motion. Danger sense assists my movements, making my weapon flick into position. Sparks fly as the head of the axe slides along the edge of my sword. The force throws both the axe and me apart. My other sword pierces through the forehead of the lord as the axe crashes into the ground with a spray of pebbles and dust. Chime I rip the giant battleaxe from the dead lord's grasp and turn.

A group of a dozen warriors stops in its tracks. My head flicks to the right. An arrow passes by, hitting the stone wall with a 'tik'. Great, another archer. Annoyed, I sprint to the nearest enemy. Unlike last time, they retreat. All the warriors collect themselves into a defensive ball, with the archer firing from behind them. Several stragglers split away, rushing to the gate. They sure don't make it easy. A vein pops as I lunge toward the group. Shields come up and weapons posture, ready to strike.

An idea pops into my mind, causing my lips to curve upwards. Right as I arrive before them, I swing the axe backwards slightly while slamming my legs to a stop. Half a dozen weapons swing and miss as my momentum disappears. Not entirely. I throw every ounce of my remaining momentum and all of my strength into a two-handed swing. The unfamiliar movement makes me stumble. But the axe strikes true.