Accidental Reaver

Another day, another waterfall.

This time, the quaint private realm remained barren of any other outside of Luke's artifacts. The pagoda stood ramrod straight, impeding harsher winds going across the plains. After the short evening with Lilly, Luke returned to the branch, visited Sooty, crafted for an hour, Disenchanted all the unneeded uncommon items he looted, sold the common ones to the Hunter Repository, and kept aside the more valuable drops. Afterward, he rested for a short four hours and found himself with more time than he knew what to do with.

It confirmed his recovery time from fatigue effectively became cut in half. Thinking on it, he'd never seen Musai sleep, and Iona, training in the illusion realm nearly twenty-four hours a day, appeared to require short breaks at best. If she found time to sleep, it certainly wasn't a long enough period for him to ever notice. Every time he visited Sooty, she, too, would be there. From the current trend, he might get to the point where he'd need no sleep or a short nap at best.

The thought was both comforting and unsettling. Sleep could be a true break, only that it was being shortened. Luke felt like he volunteered for overtime without realizing it. In the end, it was a good thing. The time currently had to be roughly two or three in the morning, and the realm looked far from it, with no signs of evening held within its skies.

Bright light reflected off from the pond, and red-black flowers swished nearby. Crashing below zero water tried to freeze Luke. The effort best came off as tepid, the waters more of a nuisance than a way to grow. He spent the last half hour under it and didn't feel his needle of progress move. The Ice Soul pushed his body's innate resistance too far. Besides trying to calm his mind, this waterfall method became useless until he could find harsher, frigid water.

Before the early arena rounds he promised, he struggled to figure out a productive task. Practicing Triple Step couldn't hurt, right? He set about that, vaulting past the pond, picking up Wayfinder, and using Triple Step around the circular dirt training area— repeating the technique into muscle memory. His sandaled feet crushed the dirt underneath. Luke stopped after a third round of zipping past the dummies, aided by Polar South's insight. Triple Step's progress slowed to a stall, going up one minor level compared to before. He could go further with the momentum generated in a slightly reduced timespan.

With both techniques stalled, Luke settled down in the central pagoda structure, crossing his legs. Xera lay nearby in wand form while Whispering Tome floated around him in a lazy circle. Xera struck up a conversation with Wayfinder, fixated on what it was like to feel magnetic fields or what the point of being a compass that worked only once a week.

Melding into the Interface to categorize recent changes, Luke internally applauded Wayfinder's growing patience. First came up his stat steals from Soul Lord Aren, the boss at the end of the Spectral Wing, and the three Knight-Mage Commanders. The baseline attributes seemed to mix together from the two sources.

[You have stolen 35 Agility, 0 Intellect, 35 Strength, and 1331 HP]

[Your strength attribute has grown to its threshold limit. Must reach the second strength threshold to grow further from training]

[Expanded Greed has stolen 5 Mental Resistance and 2 Ether Affinity]

[Quest Complete. Awarded 6 Skill Points and 5 Mental Resistance]

Growth slowed down, except for in the Health Points department. Intellect long ago hit its tier 1 limit, with strength joining in. Something Luke tried covertly learning about in the Defier's library after the crafting session would be those bottleneck points—thresholds. This applied to all tiers but came with variance depending on your class. It made no sense a Warrior capped out at the same health as a Mage, after all. Your thresholds expanded this limit, believed to be governed by Ludus itself.

While there were established limits, an extreme minority ever hit them, especially in more than one attribute. To put it into perspective, there were currently no known hunters under tier 3 that hit any of the rough attribute limits. The amount of harsh attribute training required went well beyond the tolerance of any normal person—not to mention the time investment, usually measured in decades. Even the Defiers rarely had anyone in their history encounter the same problem. No, beyond what intellect he gained from gear upgrades, or the last agility attributes left, Luke was pigeonholed to his current status.

He shrugged, all the more reason to reach the next tier and be granted the ability to shatter the additional thresholds. Of course, with Reavers being a persecuted class, their specific attribute limits were entirely unknown. Luke assumed it'd mirror the current intellect one, seven hundred and ninety-nine, attributes from gear notwithstanding. As for HP, being the only second threshold attribute currently, its standard had to be different.

Moving on, he poured attention into something he probably should've studied earlier: affinities. Thanking his intuition, the Interface came up when he overlooked Ether Affinity, the one that spiked his curiosity the most.

[Ether Affinity]

You are a being with an affinity to the most primal power fueling every being in Ludus—Ether. Increases baseline talent, the world accepts you. Barriers to growth lower, your resource efficiency increases. The higher the stat, the more the world itself favors you, and others find their search for you obscured. Individuals with enough of this stat to develop a 'soul' from it are considered the Ludus' children.

Luke vaguely felt the difference within him when he first came into contact with this unorthodox attribute. The description gave him some hidden gems like the world favoring him. The last line mattered little to Luke. He'd double-checked. There was no 'Ether Soul' or whatever it'd be called here to be seen. The Ice Soul remained his only one.

He tried to research about souls coming from affinities, and he found precisely zero information. Not a lick, sentence, scrap, na-da. Then again, the Reaver stole his way to gaining affinity. It appeared to be something you received at birth, from consumables or special events. He wasn't sure if any convoluted training method existed to grow the affinity attribute type. Already in the process of overlooking lesser understood attributes, Luke pulled up Ice Affinity for comparison.

[Ice Affinity]

You are a being with an affinity to a derivative element of water—ice. Your connection with ice is beyond natural; your ability to understand the substance increases, your talent with its usage scales further, and your drawbacks are minimized. The higher the affinity, the more ice itself favors you. Individuals with enough of this stat to develop a 'soul' from it are considered Elementals. A maximum of two per being. Ether Affinity is not included in this count.

I'm an Elemental?

The Reaver couldn't make heads or tails of that. Certainly, producing mist from his pores, ice along his body, then controlling any ice nearby wasn't 'normal,' but…

He walked the circular training area in contemplation. Would ether be considered an 'element'? If it weren't, based on the test he took back in the Hunters Branch, Luke would shoot for the Shadow Affinity next. If at all possible. Even if Luke could steal it from other creatures, the prospect would be moot if he never came into contact with something possessing the attribute. Other log lines hovered around his periphery.

[Xera, the Sword Wand, has reached level 43]

Within an expected range, he'd grinded Xera up to thirty-six while at the Blood Forge, and every bit gained from clearing out the Spectral Wing fed Xera afterward. He hoped the last dungeon, Crystal Demon Point, would be enough for her to reach level fifty. There was always the option of returning to either 'wing' dungeon. But those two dungeon's rewards were dramatically dropping. With his last grinding session and arena challenge rewards, he needed no more Armor Tokens and quickly approached his one-thousand Beast Crystal goal for Sooty's sake.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

Relying on luck for rare items to drop seemed like a foolish way to spend his last vital days before the Tide. No, he wanted more concrete methods. Should he have the time, he'd check to see if Arjanax or Aren respawned. Those two and their sub-boss minions held attributes he could 'repossess.' From the looks of things, every other competent hunter held a similar idea. The arena challenges ended up netting him one hundred Beast Crystals and ten Armor Tokens. He held over seven hundred and fifty Beast Crystals from the two Blood Forge farming sessions. If the remaining challengers offered Beast Crystals, that should give Luke the rest of what he required.

Xera's levels resulted in a considerable baseline damage boost. He reviewed her status window.

[Xera, The Sword-Wand]

Quality: Rare

Level: 43

Stats: +68 physical damage, +68 magic damage

Passive - Essence Affinity: Casting Essence Bond on Xera incurs no cooldown and requires half the Essence cost.

Passive - Essence Theft: Each swing has a 4% chance to stat steal from the target. This includes spells channeled through the Sword-Wand.

Active - Enhanced Form Shift: Use 3 Essence to shift between sword and wand forms. 3-second cooldown.

Sword Form: Grants an additional +10 physical damage on hit and a natural 20% armor penetration.

Wand Form: Essence spells are 10% more effective.

Passive - Ruinous Echo: After shifting to wand form, the first offensive spell releases an echo of ruin that reduces the magic resistance of all affected targets by 20%. (1 Minute Internal Cooldown)
Requirements: Level 15, Essence Reaver Class

Soulbound to Luke.

Next Evolution: Unknown

A Sword Wand struggling with the concept of self over lust for battle. Searching for an undeniable purpose for her Reaver.

Her damage from both types shot up several dozen points, but her other capabilities hadn't budged an inch. Pushing dirt beneath his feet, the Reaver wished there was a description of her enhancements under Essence Bond, but that appeared beyond the Interface. Perhaps purposely. The information system became full of holes the longer he experienced it. The changes he'd inferred through testing and intuition became more nuanced after adding Elementalization to the mix. Roughly, Xera could cut through spells, get added elemental damage, penetrate armor better, boost his strength, and make him into some sort of frost pylon once the runes spread to his body. In wand form, with Essence Bond attached, she helped him with essence management and pushed his skills, like Essence Lance, and Essence Bond, to their limits, half a step above what he did when she remained in sword form.

Overall, the surface-level bubbly artifact kept purpose around him. He struggled to figure out how else to convey that to her. She let slip that it'd been a while since she evolved; that might be the root cause of how she felt lately. A confounding issue, considering the evolution requirement remained 'unknown.' Luke returned to the pagoda, upending his repeating walk. He put Xera on his lap, and the artifact rested on each knee. Whispering Tome decided to hover above her, flipping a page occasionally, asking for attention. Cracking his back, Luke absentmindedly sifted through the pages.

"Xera, I'm never the best at these sorts of talks, but remember, you're always a crucial party member."

The Sword-Wand shook, and her crystal shone with vibrant white light. Just as Luke thought she decided to remain silent, a hesitant voice spoke out.

"But…old compass can do so many amazing things, and what can I do but be a sharp sword or a barely used wand? I have outbursts, and the corrupting voices since my creation mess with my crystal."

"You can stay as one of the few beings I trust. Comparing yourself to a Numbered isn't going to help either of us. Xera, you might dislike the First Reaver, but she made you the ultimate weapon a Reaver could have. There is no other weapon for me."

Luke held Wayfinder to eye level and said, "Corrupting Voices? Wayfinder?"

The Numbered spun around his needle, springing to life with a dour voice, "Aye, some overcome it, others driven mad by it. 'Fraid Xera lassie will have to compartmentalize the buggers herself. A curse to me race, a final price to breaking rules preventing our existence."

Looking down at Xera with sympathetic eyes, "Why didn't you tell me, Xera? Or, for that matter, Wayfinder, this could've been revealed ages ago."

Rattling side to side, Xera said, "I was afraid you'd throw me away for being a defective weapon. You already threatened to get rid of me the first second we met…I never want to go back there."

The Reaver put a hand over his right eye, internally lambasting himself, Right, I remember doing that, and now I regret it deeply. How many rifts in this team am I ultimately responsible for?

A stern-faced commander flashed in Luke's mindscape.

You will follow orders, Private Luke. Obey the chain of command. We don't need defective soldiers. Your insubordination will cost lives. Do you understand?

Shoving aside the unwanted memory, Luke said, "The only way you're going back there is if someone rips you from my cold, dead hands, Xera," he winked at the artifact, "so keep me breathing, alright?"

That seemed to assure Xera, her crystal returning to a consistent white, faint glow, "I'll slice and blast apart anyone you point me at, Luke."

Having sorted that as best he could, Luke waved a hand, bringing out a loot pile. Soul Lord Aren's drops, and armor tokens specifically. He'd Disenchanted or sold off practically everything else he'd gained in the dungeons, except for the Beast Crystals. The two valuable crafting materials from Arjanax also stayed in the Inventory. Four items from Aren lay inches away from him, resting against the squared stone platform. A floating Soul, a Scythe, book, and wand.

Quickly going over the two weapons, the Scythe, and Wand, both were rare quality, requiring the wielder to be over level forty and had two affixes each. Pertaining to boosting spell castings, inflicting soul damage, or dramatically increasing slicing speed in the Scythe's case.

Useful weapons, but they paled to Xera, as they should. He re-deposited them into the Inventory. They could be used to bargain for better items or sold off for quick gold to be used in the upcoming auction. Either way, neither became an upgrade. Luke reached out and picked up the book.

[Rare Active Skill: Soul Cloak]

Soul Cloak: Summons a vortex of souls around the user, acting as a protective cloak. All affected by it begin to experience soul burn, and allow the user to regenerate essence. Soul burned enemies are more vulnerable to spells, while experiencing a moderate damage over time effect. Upgrades to Soul Cloak enhance its natural protection and hidden interactions. Lasts 20 seconds. Cost: 40 Essence Cooldown: 30 seconds

Requirements: Necromancer or Astralist Class

Luke tossed the skill book back to his Inventory. He couldn't use it, and it seemed to be a damn fine skill, too. With limited time, he considered if he owed Edric a final visit to offload items like these. Selling it outright for sub-market prices seemed wasteful. Skill books weren't just short in supply currently.

They had no supply. Going through various stores, the hunters repository, and other avenues, Luke found none. Even the outrageously expensive one at the general store back in the day found a buyer between now and then. During a visit to Sooty, Luke asked Iona if the Defier's Vault retained skill books, and she informed him they never bothered to keep any unless they were Epic Rank. As he got his hopes up, Iona crushed them, off-handedly mentioning their market value being measured in the hundreds of thousands for a cheap one.

He may be able to trade this skill for one he could use if advertised, but Luke had three or four days to scrounge up what strength he could. Taking a laid back approach like that could be a complete waste, only finding a decent swap after he needed it most. That came with one tiny little problem, though, on top of the previously mentioned one.

Luke, in the public eye, was a Spell Sword. Not a Reaver. Spell Swords used mana, and it would draw attention that he wanted an essence based passive skill book, not a mana based one. Truthfully, it appeared a handful of skills may cater to both resource types, but Luke wouldn't hold his breath, hoping to land one. So, a trusty visit to Edric was in order for today, hopefully, the shortest one yet.

That left the last item floating before Luke, a pure white soul with no expression, closer to a light blob than anything else. Faint yellow ripples radiated from the odd object. He inspected it.

[Aren's Outer Soul Shell]

Quality: Exceptional

Type: All Purpose Crafting Material

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

A soul's malleability leads this material to being useful to any competent crafter. While fragile, if successfully used, a second tier crafting feat is all but guaranteed. Be forewarned, Aren's Outer Soul Shell, in return for being beneficial to any crafter, is exceptionally difficult to work with, even compared to other known materials for its proficiency range.

With this addition, Luke currently owned two exceptional quality crafting materials, a rare blood reagent from Arjanax, and various enchanting materials from turning every uncommon item he got to dust. In the back of his mind, a plan for them started to churn, but the finer details needed hammering out. He decided to get one final unknown solved.

The Black Metal Mask with grey marks around the eye sockets appeared in his hand. An illusory aura hummed from its presence, bending the air around it. Luke put out his other hand, and Whispering Tome settled onto it.

"Good tome," he said and then placed the mask over his face.

The Reaver's hair turned snow white, his robes became black and red, while his weight dropped, and height shortened slightly. Wayfinder turned into a dull grey orb, and Xera into a short white sword with a red crystal.

But Whispering Tome became something else entirely.

A blade clouded in an ethereal black, weightless, its presence so faint Luke compared it to a constellation in the night sky. It floated an inch above his palm. Like an excited child who had stumbled upon a treasure chest, Luke brought up Whispering Tome's status.