Accidental Reaver

Green glowing crystals shone soft nightlife in the Defier's Branch cafeteria. White and blue walling gave off a different hue under its influence.

Luke tried to ignore the new black and white marble flooring patch where he and Aruna fought earlier. He sat at a wooden table with simple foods, fruits, and bread mainly, with some sauces to spice things up. Whispering Tome floated around him in a circle.

Xera suddenly grew curious about how the food tasted, which Luke tried his best to explain to a being without taste buds. Unless her crystal had such sensors, the Reaver imagined it did not. Xera seemed to be able to taste blood on her, so clearly, there was some artifact fuckery going on.

Other than the typical servants of all races, the cafeteria was sparsely populated. Which made sense, considering it was an ungodly hour in the morning. While chewing the light breakfast—in an effort to multitask—Luke pulled out the four drops Arjanax left behind.

Two were crafting materials, the third a pendant, and the fourth a small, simple white and red crown that took up the helm slot in the equipment panel. Tapping a foot on the colored marble beneath him, Luke first focused on crafting Materials.

[Arjanax's Core Bone]

Quality: Exceptional

Type: Weapon or Heavy Armor Crafting Material

Requirements: Crafting Skill of at least Tier 1, Rank IV

An item worth being the centerpiece for a second ascension crafting feat. Both Weapon and Armor Blacksmiths would be honored at the chance to use this material. May only drop from a hunter's first successful slaying.

The Reaver thought of Dejen for crafting, but the Tora remained a leather worker. While Luke couldn't be sure, this item said it would only be useful to blacksmiths. Perhaps it could be processed to another form to help with crafting a leather or cloth item. Luke preferred to avoid plate armor items and tolerated chain mail. He moved on to the other crafting item dropped, a large vial of bubbling red-black blood.

[Coven Lord's Progenitor Blood]

Quality: Rare

Type: Crafting Liquid Agent

Coveted by all crafters due to its versatile uses, blood like this—and similar agents—are always in high demand but low supply. Too difficult to work with unless already an ascended crafter.

Eyes flashing, Luke instantly decided to keep this for a future Runic Enchanting crafting session. He'd fit in one more before the Tide, minimum. Should it prove somewhat redundant or ineffective, Luke would sell it off.

Next came the pendant that suspiciously looked like a different version of the one Luke already kept from his victory over Vincent. The only difference was the bone setting the central cut gem stayed within and a black chain.

[Blood Bone Coven Lord Pendant]

Quality: Rare

Stats: +30 Intellect

Passive - Enhanced Regeneration: Enables in combat health regeneration at a moderate rate. Able to assist with grievous wounds, stemming bleeding.

Requirements: Level 45, Tier 1

A blood red gem settles in its center, yearning for an unknown need. It is incomplete, wishing to devour other blood lords.

Upon reading the description, Luke felt a sensation from the chain around his neck—a pulling force. Not from Wayfinder's golden chain, but the plain iron one from the Coven Lord Pendant, which, from the looks of it, was a lower version of the Blood Bone Coven Lord Pendant he acquired from Arjanax.

Since he planned to replace the item anyway, Luke took the Coven Lord Pendant off, allowing it to be sucked to the Blood Bone Coven Lord Pendant. The black gem within the Coven Lord Pendant cracked, turned to dust, and then melded with the Blood Bone Coven Lord Pendant. Faint blood ripples undulated from the changing item.

The transformation took its sweet time, which Luke used to finish his food, eyes glancing back at the unexpected event constantly. He pushed aside the food tray, which an observant Monic Butler in black and yellow clothes took the liberty of disposing of for the Defier.

Blood seeped from the Blood Bone Coven Lord Pendant, blackening the white bones marking most of its structure. Beyond that, the item appeared to be far from finished. With another item from Arjanax to overlook, Luke put it on the wooden table to inspect. The small, simple white and red crown.

[The Sealed Lord's Crown Band]

Quality: Rare

Armor: 10

Stats: +25 Intellect +15 Agility

Passive - Blood Haze: The more you bleed, the clearer your mind becomes—effective only in combat. Enables a small healing over time effect when the wearer is shedding blood.

Requirements: Level 45, Tier 1

Crown to a once feared Coven Lord. Melds to the user's blood signature, turning invisible once worn.

Comparing it to his current head slot item, Amarok's Concealed Hood, Luke thought of the perception boost the item gave him versus the healing and mind-clearing effect this Crown Band would provide. To be sure, he displayed the item's details.

[Amarok's Concealed Hood]

Quality: Rare

Armor: 5

Stats: +8 Agility +8 Intellect

Passive - Amarok's eye: Marks a target you consider threatening, heightens your perception against them by 20%. Three minute internal cooldown.

Requirements: Level 22

May you always guard the pack, young wolf.

The Reaver leaned his head into one of his palms. Was there a time where the perception boost made the difference in a fight?

Quickly, the conclusion became apparent: No, it hadn't. Indeed, the assistance made already-won fights more effortless, but that lacked real value to Luke. He swapped Amarok's Concealed Hood out with The Sealed Lord's Crown Band, putting the former item into the Inventory.

The gear piece settled onto his forehead, slowly vanishing. It kept snug. Luke felt its weight against his skin. A slight pop sound switched his attention. The man saw the transformed Blood Bone Coven Lord Pendant, its formerly red gem now entwined with a red swirl. He picked it up and used the Interface to pull up its changes.

[Blood Bone Coven Lord Pendant]

Quality: Unique

Stats: +50 Intellect

Passive - Vampiric Regeneration: Enables in combat health regeneration at a high rate. Able to assist with grievous wounds, stemming bleeding. The worse the wounds, the greater the assistance. Able to regenerate limbs and vital organs.

Requirements: Level 45, Tier 1

A blood red gem settles in its center, yearning to mix with other Coven Lord Pendants. It is incomplete, wishing to devour other blood lords. One lord has been consumed. The Pendant remains hungry.

Luke hung the black pendant around his neck, calming his beating heart, sliding beneath Wayfinder's golden chain. He found himself wandering around the Defier's Branch. This unexpected boon would help cover his lack of healing abilities. As for the whole limb and organ regeneration, Luke already noticed an inhuman regeneration after breaking the second vitality threshold. This added effect would enhance his baseline.

Until the training session morning slot with Musai, Luke experimented with Disenchanting and Rune Etching in the enchanter platform, golems walking around as per usual. With Luke hunched over an enchanting forge. Using up most of his materials, he kept back from wasting the Coven Lord's Progenitor Blood. Overestimating himself and relying too much on Wayfinder's utility focused abilities like Polar South, Luke tried—and failed—to do a tier 2 crafting feat.

In hindsight, he'd fail; the materials he used were lacking, and the foundation from rapid skill growth had yet to settle down. On the bright side, Disenchant ranked up to tier 1, rank III, making extracting materials from items more effective. The failure also taught him how to better use Runic Enchanting, such as adjusting the rune pattern with items already present enchantments to enhance an innate effect, rather than creating an item from scratch, like with Whispering Tome. If not for the lack of time, Luke would try to boost some of his items.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Judging from Polar South's insight, his own experience, and a faint rejection sense from the world again, Luke thought souping up rare quality items would be the current limit. Examining most of his rare equipment, Luke witnessed raw, unused, ether coming off them.

One, such as the Blood Crafters Hand Wraps, left a minor Ether amount unused. Luke doubted he could upgrade it at his current skill level. Asani's Jerkin and his two ring items were a different story. Besides the time constraint, he practiced restraint because Luke wanted to upgrade those items to their limit with Armor Tokens first.

He'd accomplish that today with any luck while growing his Beast Crystal stockpile for Sooty's benefit. Black essence gathered in his eyes; he craved to see the patterns required for total use with Runic Enchanting.

Even if this profession of his failed to give the desired result—that being forging connections with others to follow his dad's vanishing trail—it remained a tool for creating advantages he previously would be shut from. For hours, the young man Etched runes in different combinations, intensities, and materials on the same papers Annika originally used for him. Whenever Polar South came off cooldown, he'd activate it, flowing Insight accelerating his learning and proficiency. The urge to use Rising West became overwhelming when an impassable wall appeared within this state.

"Wayfinder, you're quite addicting. This is the real way to use you, a learning aid."

"Aye, some of me previous owners got to the same step. Grace yourself, lad, any artifact is as useful as its owner makes it. The most creative with me tended to have the longest stride before our journey ended. Exceptin' that last one, the dullard. Tossin' me in a cave pond like some tarnished copper."

Luke stilled his hand, relenting at the last moment. Rising West had a day long cooldown and, from its first use, started to put him in dangerous territory. It required prudence to use or a desperate last ace. Polar South, sweat equity, and time could do the rest with crafting lessons.

It felt strange not to have the boisterous, obsessive, positively too-touchy teacher around here. He was referring to Annika, of course. Ever since Whispering Tome's creation, he hadn't seen her. Or Tanniv for that manner. Or Eldacar.

"Everyone must be up to their neck's in last minute preparations," he thought aloud.

Even in Iona's case, the elf never left the illusion realm, constantly training. Aruna appeared to be continually challenging people in the arena, while Luke knew too little about the remaining few unmentioned Defiers to figure out what they may be up to.

A wide eyed human manservant broke Luke's peace, urgently calling for him, "Defier Luke, we've a man calling himself Janeus begging to see you. He is crashing himself against the Black Arch, causing great distress to the staff."

"That prick? My business with him is done. Tell him he's not allowed to challenge me for Xera ever again." Black essence still flooded Luke's eyes at this time, giving the Defier an unapproachable aura.

Gulping while patting down his streaming forehead, the shaking man stuttered a response, "I-if I may, Defier Luke. This Janeus appeared to be more seeking your forgiveness than to challenge you."

Entirely out of the 'crafting state,' Luke shut away the essence outwardly flowing around him. Walking on the cloth path, Luke flicked a hand out momentarily, "Take me to him. I'll see what this is all about."

Clamping his arms to his sides, the manservant guided Luke down the spiral stairs to the Black Arch. Once there, Luke dismissed the man, glancing at the red portal that held Sooty within for a second. His steps echoed on the marble, catching a bloodied, torn, and tear-stricken elf on the other side. Yellow pulsing runes activated around the Black Arch, preventing the intruder, neither a Defier nor a designated servant, from entering the branch.

Clusters of servants, maids, and other staff were busy trying to get the elf to leave. Unfortunately, none of them were of the quality to use force. Luke wagered few would be. The Reaver managed to toy with the Spell Sword elf, but at the end of the day, Janeus was an experienced tier 2 hunter. Few in Sylen could force him to do anything.

As Luke came up to the arch, the servants formed two separate lines, awaiting any instruction. Luke shooed them off with a hand, "Two of you stay, the rest, go back to your usual duties."

Various acknowledgments of the order came simultaneously, mixing into a haze-like chatter. The staff moved quickly, though a human woman maid and tora butler remained. Janeus, still on the other side, beat his hands against the yellow rune barrier, keeping him out, and his eyes locked onto Luke's figure. The Reaver could feel fear. No, the emotion coming from Janeus was too weak to be called fear—terror would be a better fit.

At first, the elf babbled nonsense Luke failed to discern. Words like 'gone,' 'stop this,' and 'forgive me' were mixed in sentences that did not at all make any coherent thought. Baffled, Luke stepped past the Black Arch and picked up the disheveled elf, slapping him into some sense. By the time Janeus stopped babbling, the Reaver had planted deep red hand prints onto Janeus's right cheek. Eventually, the elf powerlessly breathed, eyes pleading.

"Forgive me, Defer. I would've never dared to challenge you had I known its true cost. It is I who is the peasant, the lowest, but take no more from me."

"The contract is signed, Janeus. Our debt is mostly settled. It's the Melens you owe money to now. Why are you here?"

Janeus' heart beat so loudly Luke bet a normal person could hear it. The elf leaked a tear, "Gold is the least of what you have taken from me. Please, give me back the power you stole."

Luke released the man, letting Janeus fall to the floor.

Ah shit. How could I have forgotten?

What glaring threat the Reaver class had wasn't its near infinite ability to grow—within set limitations—its property to steal strength from others was the real danger. Something Luke encountered mostly with monsters or underworld types he culled as Rune. Janeus would be the first person he stole as much as he could from and let live. A hunter might be confused about losing a minor amount of attributes after battling Luke—if he let himself steal at all. Luke did have control with it—sparring, for example—he'd never take any power from another in a friendly confrontation aiming for mutual growth or teaching.

Janeus had been another matter. Luke purposely inflicted repeated damage on the Spell Sword, triggering attribute theft a multitude of times. There seemed to be a hard limit to how much Luke could steal in one battle. Based on Janeus' reaction, what he could take away from others—even in one round—was enough to cause a breakdown. In the heat of the moment, and really, wanting to set an example, Luke held nothing back in that duel. Least of all his Reaver tendencies. What Sin of Greed would let such a meal go free if he had justification?

Wanting to take Xera away was more than enough justification. Luke valued his friends dearly. Xera, Wayfinder, and Sooty were all family. Want to take them?

Pay a permanent price for trying.

As for giving the stolen attributes back? Luke didn't want to and had a hunch he couldn't anyway. Hell, he'd remained unaware of how much exactly he'd taken away, not bothering to check the Interface for such information. Now though, the Reaver set a reminder to filter for it later.

Sighing at the problem he created, Luke dragged Janeus into a Hunter's Branch meeting room, kicking out a party that currently occupied it. The green walls and blue light inside created an inviting environment, but the air surrounding Luke and Janeus was anything but.

Tapping on a solid wooden table, mana lines seared into the door, keeping others out well enough. Unless they decided to barge in without restraint, like Luke. Once seated across from a hollowed out Janeus, Luke pressed the conversation.

"Talk to me, Janeus. You look like you've seen a devil." Luke rolled his eyes to the right corner, thinking, "I guess here, it's a god you'd not want to see. You can relax. Whatever's taken won't get any worse."

"You won't target me again? I've lost over five percent of my baseline strength, Defier. The Interface keeps telling me Sin curses me. What sort of curse did you lay on me? I've never heard of someone stripping away another's power, " Janeus whispered.

"Unless you decide to challenge me for Xera," Luke assured, "did the Interface reveal anything else? A curse…close enough to what I did. It's gone now, Janeus. I'll say it again, what you have left will remain. The price between us is paid. To regain those attributes, you'll have to train it back up or break to the next barrier. I know your level capped for tier 2."

Wringing his wrists, Janeus shifted his eyes constantly, never meeting Luke's eyes, "That strength is gone permanently? Is the curse within me still? Can this happen again?"

Luke put a leg over another, leaning into the modestly uncomfortable chair, "There is a price for challenging a Defier."

"Hundreds have challenged Aruna, and they have never encountered this curse before. Tell me, what have you done!?"

"Janeus, we signed a contract that you are unable to go against my interests. Let me guess when you brought this problem up to the servants, you couldn't utter a word until we came to some privacy? Someone's heart must've been very stressed."

Shaking, the elf nodded and remained silent, his eyes roaming the wooden table.

Luke rationalized, That was a pure conjecture, but it explains our entire interaction earlier, how he barely made any sense.

"I'm getting a full picture here, alright. You've paid a heavy price against me, and you'll never get back what the 'curse' has taken from you. Since you're now an Investment of mine, having you break down and become a shell suits neither me nor you." Luke thumbed over his temple, "Here's what I'm going to do. You're stuck at Apprentice Elementalization. Those flames were all the proof I needed."

I can't believe I'm pitying a guy that attempted to steal Xera away from me. I'll treat it as a thank you for the contract preventing a serious dilemma. Anyone I duel in the arena will need to sign a similar contract, or I'll have to control myself.

The Reaver set two feet on the wooden table, one over the other, and crossed his arms. Breathing deeply, he said, "I'll give you one short lesson on Elementalization. If you reach Adept with this, it'll more than make up for the attributes you lost. As I pointed out, attribute training is always an option."

Janeus stilled, then suddenly looked up, the slouch in his shoulders gone, "You'd do that for me? Defier, I-"

Luke pushed up with his legs, stood on the table, strode across to Janus, then grasped onto the elf's forearm, "Push your fire to here."

"I've never managed it consistently. I usually can only go onto my weapons," Janeus said.

"Then call it out, you've got your weapon on you?"

"I do." Janeus took his short sword out of his spatial bag. Holding it in one hand, flames licked the blade a second later.

"Good, now, let me see…" Luke closed his eyes and connected his frost essence to Janeus. A bit stumped on how to exactly guide someone who likely had little talent; he cheated.

Polar South came to the rescue, granting Luke insight on what to do. He forcibly pulled the flames from the sword with frost essence, tamed them, then had the Elementalization product dance on Janeus's forearm, "You lack 'connection' to the flames. Stop treating them as if separate from you. They feel no affinity to your body. Sense what I'm doing to your forearm to allow your flames to attach freely. Once you replicate it, the door to Adept will swing wide open."

Calmed, Janeus closed his eyes. Veins popped on his forehead in a pattern all the way down to the affected forearm. Luke maintained his position while the elf intensely concentrated. About ten minutes later, Janeus gasped for air. Yet the man's eyes changed from hollow to delighted. Flames slowly jumped from Janeus' sword to his fingers but soon extinguished.

Ripping his arm away, Janeus backed up and kneeled to Luke, "I can see the way forward, master. With this hint, I know I'll reach Adept after a couple days of practice."

"I'm not your master," Luke dismissed. He changed his posture, sat on the table, and lightly swung a leg.

"Benefactor,"

"Not a benefactor either."

"Lord,"

"Definitely not a goddamn lord. Janeus, you're an investment. You owe me a second favor after this. Take care not to owe so much you can never repay me."

Janeus gulped, "This guidance is invaluable. Hunters from all over the Duchy would easily pay the price in attributes for this chance, Defier. A curse is a small concession. I will use this knowledge to achieve a tier 3 feat or die trying. Should I succeed, allow me to serve you."

Slinging his body off the table, Luke vaulted over to the door. He tapped on it, letting the door slide to the side, opening the private conference room, "Do what you want, Janeus. Keep your mouth shut about the 'curse'."

There was no curse, of course. Luke stole attributes away from others if he willed it during a fight. Janeus had no need to know that, nor could the Reaver remotely trust him enough to risk telling the truth. As Luke left for the Defier's Branch, hurrying to get to Musai's morning training session, a declaration reached his ears.

"I, Janeus, slayer of Wyverns, will repay you, Defier. On my honor."