Primer for the Apocalypse

My hands shook uncontrollably as I glanced at the remnants of our first skirmish with the Springhearts and their allies.

Why did I think taking part in a war would be anything but traumatizing?

There had only been four opponents, though I was pretty sure Chao was supposed to have been the fifth for their little group.

Just looking at them, I could tell that two of our four foes were non-martial professionals of some sort, but they still refused to back down when offered the chance. The group hadn’t so much as hesitated to attack when we entered the cave they were using as a temporary base.

Perhaps they thought they held the advantage because of their numbers? Or maybe they thought their Barriers and defenses would be enough to protect them?

Whatever their reasons, their decision had been a poor one. What remained of their bodies and possessions were now scattered alongside what was left of the preformed modular defenses they’d erected prior to our arrival.

Knowing that I was to blame for the scene made me want to add my breakfast to the gory display.

“Are you okay?” Zavira asked with a touch of concern when she saw me squat next to one of the broken walls. It had been slashed apart by Niall’s Void-coated polearm when he brazenly pushed past their defenses.

I looked up at the half-dwarf and forced myself to nod. “I’m fine,” I said tightly. “It’s just a lot different from putting down bandits who deserve to die, you know? It doesn’t even feel like true self-defense since we chose to take part in the fighting.”

My eyes focused on one of the bloody piles of mixed materials. I was pretty sure it had been an Alchemist a few minutes earlier – before he’d been hit with a pair of Gravity Bombs channeled through a Space-attuned [Enhancement] wand.

“Did they really even have a choice?” I asked. “Some of these people had nothing to do with the Springhearts’ sins. They didn’t deserve to get pulled into a war.”

A war that I started, I reminded myself. The thought made me shiver.

Zavira sighed lightly and sat on the ground next to me.

I glanced across the cave at Niall. He was busy looting the small battlefield and avoided looking our way. I wondered if he was giving us space or judging me for my reaction.

I really couldn’t tell.

“Yeah. War is tough. I was in a low-tier sect war back when I was Tier Two. I had a hard time adjusting at first.” My friend leaned a bit closer and lowered her voice, though there was nobody around to hear it but Niall. “I’ll admit, the war is probably the biggest reason I started drinking. Alcohol wasn’t something I cared for before.”

I sighed heavily and leaned against Zavira’s shoulder.

After a few moments, she nudged me, “Alright. It’s best to keep yourself busy. How far away is the next group?” she asked as she stood and pulled me to my feet. She could have just checked the shared mini-map, but I appreciated her effort.

“Ten minutes at a run,” I replied as I dusted off my pants. The [Self-Cleaning] enchantment would have taken care of the dirt eventually, but there was no reason to waste the mana when a quick brush would work.

I looked at Niall as he joined us by the exit. “Thanks for taking care of the loot. I’ll be sure to contribute more next time.”

He nodded stoically, saying nothing.

After a moment of hesitation, I asked, “Do you want me to use Time magic against the next group if they want to fight?”

Niall shook his head. “I’d like to practice with Null Field.”

Fighting without magic would certainly make things more challenging, but it also gave our opponents a chance. It was more honorable, and I could tell that mattered to Niall.

“That’s fine with me. I don’t mind practicing my melee a bit,” Zavira said before we took off in the direction of the next group of potential enemies.

Hopefully, the Springhearts would come to their senses and give up soon.

Spoiler: they didn’t.

“Does it seem like the beasts have gotten more aggressive lately?” Niall asked after we fended off a sneak attack from a large group of burrowing insects.

They looked like beetles, but their wings were made of obsidian, and I was almost certain they couldn’t fly. Instead, they shot extremely thin blades of volcanic glass from their wings, making them a pain to fight in such enclosed quarters.

“Maybe they’re reacting to having so many people staying in the zones,” Zavira offered.

It had been five months since the war started, and we were still fighting. Experience gains were surprisingly good, which I both loved and hated.

I loved it because I was gaining levels much faster than before. I’d also earned quite a few credits due to ‘spoils of war’ rules that automatically transferred a portion of a slain enemy’s credit balance to the person(s) who defeated them.

I hated it because I was gaining levels and credits by killing other people – people who probably didn’t deserve to die.

They weren’t my only source of experience by any means. Killing beasts was still a big part of our daily activities, especially with how often we were attacked by dungeon mobs as we traveled through the underground zone.

But it was still a lot.

I spent a lot of time Meditating on my culpability in the war. I also exchanged several messages, including a video message, with Master Kairos, discussing the topic.

Our discussions helped a lot more than I thought they would. The old Time Mage had a way of putting things into perspective that made me feel a lot better.

Being reminded that death really wasn’t the end helped a lot.

Reincarnation was a real, verifiable thing that happened to basically everyone. While the near certainty that those killed would live again didn’t remove my sense of guilt, it did mitigate it somewhat.

“How far into the level did that get you guys?” I asked curiously after pulling the remains of the beetle creatures into my ring.

While I waited for their answers, I pulled up my status to check my progress.

***

Name: Emie deEpíkairos

Level: 38 (79653/185400)

Profession: Enchanter/Manatechnician

Affinities: Time, Space

***

Health: 280 (9.3/min)

Stamina: 450 (18/min)

Mana: 630 (43.2/min)

***

Attributes

Strength – 20

Agility – 25

Vitality – 28

Intelligence – 63

Wisdom – 52

Perception – 38

***

Spells*

Skills*

***

The beast wave had given all of us a full level, and since then, we’d all gained roughly a level every month and a half. Our progress was significantly faster than even the most generous estimates would have given, especially since we weren’t constantly engaged in fighting.

We also weren’t able to truly take time off, either. The entire five months since the beast wave had been spent fighting either beasts or people, and killing people provided far more experience and loot than killing beasts did.

It made me wonder how the Alliance didn’t exist in a perpetual state of war.

Truth be told, we weren’t even killing that many people. At least, not compared to the images of war I’d seen growing up. It was a good thing, I supposed.

“I’m about a third of the way to level thirty-nine,” Zavira said.

“Same,” Niall grunted.

“Me too,” I replied. I expected as much since we were sharing experience as a party. The small variability was mostly due to gains in professional experience.

“We’re going to get stuck with alternate-level problems soon,” I added, noting the deficit Lisa had helpfully provided when the question entered my mind.

My Interface Assistant was easily able to track experience gains and how they were earned, so I felt fairly confident in the numbers I was seeing.

“Perhaps we should dedicate more time toward Crafting and Trading now that we are approaching the peak,” Niall said reluctantly.

I wondered what would happen if we banked the maximum allowable experience and still didn’t have enough alternative experience to tier up. Would I have to buy some overpriced spells to make room for alternate experience, or would the system balance things out?

I hadn’t purchased any spells since reaching Tier Four, so it was certainly an option. It had honestly seemed like a waste of valuable experience, but if the war dragged on, such measures might become necessary.

That was a harrowing thought.

Being hidden in a spatially expanded crack and masked by [Obscuring] wards made our base quite secure. We made sure to return to it every evening, if for no reason than to ensure our prisoners were adequately cared for.

Finding new people who didn’t want to fight in the war was getting less and less common, and I’d mostly quit offering by that point.

In fact, finding anyone was getting less common, though I wasn’t sure if it was because the number of combatants had dropped significantly – on both sides – or if there was some other reason.

The decrease in sapient opponents only became more pronounced as the months passed. Our experience gains noticeably slowed during that time, but we still slowly progressed toward the peak of Tier Four.

Thankfully, our alternative experience gains showed no such decline. With more time dedicated to crafting and, in Niall’s case, trading, we drew ever closer to the threshold separating Tier Four from Tier Five.

During that time, our area of responsibility also shifted into the high and peak-tier areas of the zone – not because we had increased in level, but because those originally responsible for those areas had already reached Tier Five and left the floor.

We still maintained our base in the mid-tier zone since Teleporting a bit farther was much easier than reestablishing a base and jail.

I still had no idea what I was going to do with the prisoners once we eventually left the floor. I certainly didn’t want to leave them to the mercy of the sect elites remaining, but it wasn’t like we could take them with us.

It was something I was going to have to figure out sooner rather than later.

“Are we going back to the boss’s lair today?” Zavira asked as we prepared to head out.

We’d been intermittently checking the area around the boss – not because we wanted to stop people from ascending to the fifth floor, but because we didn’t want our enemies collecting Tier Five material to create weapons out of.

“We can,” I said, looking at Niall to gauge his thoughts.

“I would enjoy the challenge,” he said.

With everyone in agreement, I easily moved the three of us across the zone, dropping us right outside the boss’s lair. Another group was fighting inside, but a quick glance showed they were part of our faction. I could tell because the dungeon highlighted enemies in red, making it impossible to become confused about someone’s alliance.

“Let’s go somewhere else,” I suggested. “I don’t want the elites inside to think we’re encroaching on their kill.”

Zavira nodded. “I agree. There’s no reason to create tension unnecessarily.”

Niall’s whiskers twitched a few times, but he said nothing.

We’d had a couple less-than-friendly encounters with our fellow sect elites since the start of the war, one of which had ended in a completely preventable death, so there was no guarantee the elites fighting the boss would be amicable to our presence.

I’d love to say I felt bad about the elite’s death, but I really didn’t. It was a strange shift from the feelings of guilt I often felt from killing Springheart allies. The fact that killing our own ally hadn’t bothered me… bothered me.

But he really was a jerk. He was almost as bad as the young Springheart heir who’d sparked the war in the first place. Hopefully, the guy wouldn’t be such an asshole in his next life.