Unchosen Champion

Coop knew something was up with his build after his last skill selection, so he was eager to take a more comprehensive look. The perception that his connection to mana had changed was a strange sensation that he found hard to assign to any of his senses in particular, but he was still sure of the feeling. Perhaps, now that humans were being subjected to the active influence of mana, they were developing ways to discern its vacillations. After experiencing the sweeping transformation of mana after the civilization shard’s destruction, he was certainly more sensitive toward the tingling feelings caused by mana.

In the past he had witnessed unusual behavior in plants and wildlife, as if they were maturing in their relationship with mana much faster than the normal mechanisms of evolution would allow. He remembered the corals that grew in the Mana Well outside of Ghost Reef and how they had adapted in the absence of sunlight in favor of mana, though he expected they would be the most extreme example given the excessive degree of concentrations they were dealing with. Rather than physical changes, it seemed like mana’s activation was influencing the behaviors of different species. Either way, he was prepared to see the evolution of his own skills as abilities were the primary way he deliberately interacted with mana itself.

The soldiers of Ghost Reef endeavored to clear the rest of the highway, leaving Coop with an unobstructed view of their progress from atop of Chakyum’s tomb. They made quick work with their overwhelming strength focused on the weaker skeletal minions, but the sheer scale of the settlement meant that the war would be ongoing for some time. Though Coop couldn’t anticipate a conclusion any time soon, he was comfortable letting his friends take over on his behalf for the time being.

A massive sigh escaped his lips as he leaned his back against a slab of stone and slid down to a seated position, recognizing that his immediate contributions were done. He did his best to make himself comfortable, perched on the rubble at the top of the pyramid, resting his real arm and his ghost arm on each of his knees. His unused spear was propped up like a walking stick, up and over his shoulder, and he opened up his status with interest.

[Status]

HP - 2765/19250

MP - 987/36000

Class - Revenant (Level 237)

Profession - Scavenging (Level 162)

Affinity - Spectral

Race - Human (Rank 1)

Faction - None

Strength - 125 (+3600)

Agility - 125 (+1800)

Body - 125 (+1800)

Mind - 3000 (+600)

Intelligence - 125 (+3600)

Acumen - 125 (+1800)

Unallocated - 0

Titles - Champion IV, Haunted, Ethereal, Reaper II, Slayer IX, Dauntless, Stacked, Defiant, Siegebreaker, Mindbender, Valor XXIV, Dedicated

Skills (Active) - Mistwalking

Skills (Passive) - Mind Over Matter, Adamance, Practical Application, Arcane Comprehension, Clarity of Purpose

Quests - Fortune Seeker (20/50), Upgrade City to Metropolis

Basic Credits - 7,802,552

Coop blew air out of his nose, astonished. One change to his skills in particular drew his attention immediately, affirming the accuracy of his imagined sixth sense, but he took things in order.

Starting from the top, he skimmed over his health and mana, already well-aware that they were severely diminished at the moment. He was below 15% health and had only recovered less than 3% of his completely drained mana. Obviously, it could have been worse, but he was in bad shape. The resource totals didn’t even tell the entire story of how his very being felt stretched to its limit with the strain that the abilities of the Deep Dweller had placed upon him.

Instead of his resources being predictably low, what caught his eye was his current class level. Level 237. It felt like an odd number to settle on. It took him a moment of scrolling through notifications to figure out how he had ended up at that particular point.

The recap began prior to entering the former Yucatan settlement. Escorting the Jaguar Sun’s warhost and completing the Ruin Tracer quest line had brought him close to 200, but not quite there. Coop had reached level 197.

After the battle with the Cult of Chakyum began, defeating the entire contingent of reanimated High Priests, including the Elite Void Queen, had driven him all the way up to level 209, with each undead minion giving him between one and three levels.

Then, after driving the Lich to destroy the civilization shard in a gambit to destroy them both, finishing off the Deathstalker had put him to 211.

A single level was added for completing the Elimination quest after destroying the phylactery of the Lich, which leveled him to 212. Coop followed along with his own progress, nodding thoughtfully, but that’s where the logical increments ceased.

Coop scrunched his face as he discovered that the destruction of the Lich himself had granted exactly 25 levels along with an entire slew of Valor titles. Despite being nearly 5,000 levels ahead, defeating the Undead Chosen had provided the exact gap between skill choices.

“Can’t be a coincidence.” Coop frowned, letting his greed for progression fly.

Given the level disparity, he honestly believed that gaining hundreds of levels, or even more, should have been on the table. After weeks of dealing with the Cult of Chakyum skimming his experience, he toppled their scam only to uncover what appeared to be a different limitation. It felt like the system had swooped in to screw him over this time around.

Coop asked himself what the differences between himself and the Cultists were. There were hundreds of examples of Priests and High Priests exceeding Coop’s perceived level gain limit. They didn’t seem to have a problem jumping larger gaps, but here he was, confined to a single block of 25 after overcoming an impossible rift in the form of the Lich’s progress.

The only explanation he could come up with was that when the Priests were boosted, it was through numerous individual levels that had been accumulated over time and stored for later through various means. On the other hand, Coop received all the levels at once from a single encounter. He imagined the difference was like trying to fill a narrow-mouthed bottle with a larger bucket. The cultists had a siphon prepared, but Coop could only collect what splashed into the opening.

Still, Coop couldn’t accept that the explanation was entirely due to an inefficient energy transfer. No matter how limited mana absorption and integration was, the difference of levels between himself and his opponent was too large, and the fact that he had gained exactly 25 levels rather than some other arbitrary number fueled his suspicion. It felt too purposeful to be anything other than the system artificially limiting his gains as well.

Coop looked up at the night sky, slightly frustrated that he hadn’t jumped ahead on his journey by hundreds of levels. The least the system could have done was stop him at the next round number. Level 250 would have given him two skill choices at once, opening up another layer of buildcrafting that practically left him salivating. The last time he had been able to take multiple skills at once was when he selected Revenant in the first place, and it had resulted in the combination of Retribution and Salvation, three passive skills, and his entire plan for the archetype he would build.

Shaking his head at his own avarice, he silently contemplated whether the shortchanging of experience that the Cult of Chakyum had forced upon him really wasn’t enough. Did even the system need to get in on the action of screwing him over? Or was he feeling overly entitled?

“Maybe a little entitled,” he conceded.

He shrugged to himself, immediately coming up with further tangents that would explain why the system would prevent more than 25 levels gained from a single instance. The first was that any more growth would cause him to literally explode. Judging by his experience with the apparitions from Inheritance of the Mists, gaining too much power without any safety features attached left self-destruction as an actual possibility. There were also powerleveling considerations he could imagine, especially outside of the restrictions of an assimilation.

“Whatever.” He breathed, not letting the perceived fraud tamper his satisfaction with the absolute massive gains he had actually made. Feeling anything other than gratification made it seem like he was just looking for reasons to be unsatisfied. The truth was that every little bit counted when it came to his progression, and in this case, it wasn’t a small amount at all.

He couldn’t stop his smile from sneaking onto his face as he assessed his growth, even while he tried to remain stubbornly sober. The battle of the Yucatan had resulted in the fastest levels of his entire adventure. Over the course of a single day he had gained 36 levels. 36! The entire Siege event had given him 45, but that had been over the course of three entire weeks. He had to seriously try to find reasons to diminish his achievement. Maybe, if he stretched his adventure in Central America all the way to his arrival in Corozal, it didn’t look quite as amazing, but even then, he couldn’t make cheap complaints about gaining 80 levels in 35 days.

Coop chuckled to himself as he did the math, counting on his fingers and tapping his spear against the stone to determine that for all of his frustration and grief, the final bout had pulled his progress back into the realm of ridiculousness. More than two levels a day for such a long duration was insane. In fact, the pace was slightly better than all of his previous progress combined. On Day 78 he was level 157, on Day 113 he was level 237.

“We’re back in business, boys.” He laughed as he pulled up the leaderboards.

Day 113

Coop (Level 237)

Tzultacaj (Level 137)

Sila Tupua (Level 136)

Toby Jackman (Level 134)

Callagun (Level 134)

Gibson (Level 132)

Juliana Rodriguez (Level 131)

Shane Peters (Level 131)

Hai Yun (Level 130)

Emmanuel Seraphin (Level 130)

Coop hummed to himself in surprise, not just at the massive distance he was putting between himself and the rest, but also because of the reappearance of so many familiar names. The battle of the Yucatan hadn’t only been a boost to his levels individually. The Jaguar Sun’s most prominent members as well as Ghost Reef’s elites were also making their own massive leaps forward.

Mr. Gibson of all people had already become the highest level resident of their little island. Coop never expected such impressive performance from the guy that had been a self-appointed neighborhood watchman, but mana was an incredible equalizer that credited both diligence and opportunity. He was certainly diligent, and there were always opportunities when it came to Ghost Reef. The previous level leaders were falling a bit behind. Charlie and Camila were at level 128, evidently experiencing another period of calm while the large group of residents came to the Yucatan to help.

Almost the entire top 50 was occupied by residents of Ghost Reef. The rest of Gibson’s party, Shane’s party, the Cleary Brothers, Edith Buford, Jonah the Waiter, Mikey B and Amanda, Jones, Charlie, Camila, and Madison were a mere fraction of the names that joined Sierra and Mateo right outside of the top 10. Coop felt proud of what they were building together. It was friends and allies all the way down. Yet, he knew that they couldn’t let up, given the potential for future challenges. At least they were on the right track.

As he dug further into the list, he noted that many of the names that he wasn’t familiar with were Latin or Mayan, and he suspected that the Jaguar Sun’s warriors had also risen to the occasion. The experience that had converged within the Cult of Chakyum was in the process of being redistributed to the survivors. The fact that Coop had only received 25 levels from the Lich might also have something to do with the fact that the necromancer’s minions were being chipped away by nearly half a million people. Coop grunted as he conceded that he would have to share the gains just a little bit.

Coop reviewed the titles that had been granted upon the defeat of the Lich. The first was Valor XXIV which was granted for defeating an ‘overwhelming’ opponent. Reviewing his notifications revealed that he had actually received the individual Valor title 24 times in a row. Unlike his levels, it appeared to have avoided any system limitations, giving him another instance based on a multiplier designated by the difference in levels between himself and his opponent once it exceeded a specific threshold.

The title made it clear that both the raw difference and a multiplied difference were factors, adding that Coop’s victory ranked in the top 1,000,000 recorded battles in terms of multiplier, but went unranked in terms of raw difference. Coop raised his eyebrows as he felt as though he had uncovered a galaxy wide leaderboard. It made sense that the raw difference wasn’t anything special if there were individuals out there with thousands of levels competing with each other. 5,000 levels was ridiculous at such an early stage of an assimilation, but on the scale of the universe, he doubted it was that special.

The effect of the title was a stacking increased resistance to aura oppression. Coop raised an eyebrow at the bonus, wondering if humans had a natural resistance instead, because he wasn’t sure if he had felt anything other than defiant in the face of superior enemies. In any case, it seemed to be encouraging him to not shy away from duels with the extraordinary.

The second title, Dedicated, was granted for collecting 11 titles during a single assimilation. Rather than have a direct effect, it was a prestige title, but speaking of auras, he remembered that titles were one factor in determining their strength. While Coop was able to ignore the impact of auras, his own was growing more formidable.

The hits just kept on coming. Coop opened up the skill choice granted for reaching level 225, expecting around 30 options to dig into. He was curious to see what the Path of the Abyss had to offer.

He grunted upon checking his options, pausing as his expectations went unmet. Instead of the largest number of skills he would see on a new Path, he only had one individual choice. “Not exactly a huge selection.” He blithely concluded.

However, there was still an important choice to be made. The lone option was to add a new affinity, but the alternative was to decline taking anything at all.

There was no further explanation for what the affinity would do, but Coop could make some inferences. Affinities opened up a wider range of mana to be utilized. It had been a long time since he used the analogy, but if he considered affinities to be the language used to interface with mana, adding a second affinity would be like becoming bilingual. Presumably, more skills with even more synergies would open up if he broadened his horizons by adding more mana affinities, but he still hesitated.

Coop’s Spectral affinity had been good to him, and he really didn’t think he was done with its potential. He almost didn’t want to dilute his future, but just because he valued his Spectral affinity didn’t diminish the potential of every other flavor of mana. It wasn’t like he was losing access to the familiar mana either. Still, Coop paused.

As he looked inward, he realized he felt some subconscious vanity in being a regular Rank 1 Human with a single mana affinity, Unchosen, and dominant despite it all. It was a bit silly, and once he recognized it, he thought it was too embarrassing to embrace. He thought he might as well copy the self-titling conventions of Lyriel and the High Priests and call himself the Avatar of Humanity while he was at it.

He shook his head at himself, deciding to accept the expansion of his build and take the new affinity. He knew they had to seize opportunities when they presented themselves, and by all accounts, affinities were some of the biggest personal opportunities offered by the system. He mentally slammed the accept button and braced for the change.

[New Affinity acquired!]

[You have acquired a new title!]

He flexed each of his hands, one still completely human, and the other a replica of solidified mists, as he anticipated a difference. He didn’t feel any physical changes upon adding the affinity, but he did get a new title upon accepting it. He double checked his affinities in his status, confirming that it worked.

Affinity - Spectral, Abyssal

Coop’s original affinity, Spectral, was for those who were haunted by the dead, frequented by spirits, or were themselves ghostly existences. His new affinity was Abyssal: for those who were touched by madness, appreciated the perverse beauty of the deep, or found comfort within the indifference of the vast cosmos.

Coop’s face twisted as he struggled to decide if he was offended. “Is this me?” He wondered, not really seeing it at first.

Maybe it was a little crazy to be as freakishly devoted to the grind as he was, but the unique circumstances of the assimilation meant that dedication to survival was the new normal for all humans. He shrugged, conceding that the first part might be applicable in a sort of generic way that would reasonably pertain to anyone.

Coop also appreciated the beauty of all sorts of natural environments, not excluding the immensity of the oceans, which must have qualified as the deep. “Wouldn’t call it perverse, though.” He muttered defensively, accepting that the second part might fit in a way that didn’t capture the entire picture.

That left the last part: that he was comforted by the indifference of the vast cosmos. He tilted his head to the side and scrunched his nose, trying to decide how he felt. Affinities were like unexpectedly facing a mirror covered in ink blots that twisted into his own face, forcing a confrontation with reality despite whatever facades he lived with, consciously or not. What he saw reflected in his mind’s eye didn’t surprise him. He was just some guy. A human that was doing his best along with everyone else.

He grunted, wondering if that repeated refrain, that he was just some guy, was his way of subconsciously acknowledging his own insignificance and being content with it. If he really considered the situation of Earth’s failing assimilation, he had to recognize that he was resisting the underlying bedrock of an entire galactic community that was composed of countless aliens, planets, and factions, which had existed for eons and had gone undefeated. He was less than a speck of dust in front of the machine that had been integrated into reality. His existence was practically meaningless, his perspective fleeting, and his ability to affect change woefully inadequate.

“Who cares?” He asked himself, feeling like he had gone through this thought exercise before. The scope of his aspirations wasn’t unreasonable, given his limitations. He fought for Ghost Reef. Everyone else in the universe would have to settle things for themselves.

He yielded to the system’s wisdom. As long as he could appreciate Ghost Reef’s sunsets in between leveling up, being psychoanalyzed by an omnipresent unconscious entity wouldn’t faze him. He shook his head, accepting that his method of prioritization was probably why the last part fit as well.

In any case, the idea of drawing power from the Abyss was cool, so he was happy with the theming and hopeful that it would lead him to more synergistic abilities that further enhanced the Revenant class.

He moved down his status, skimming past the unchanged sections, admiring the symmetry of his stats once again, and stopping at his titles. Dynamo had appeared in the list, but it merely revealed his ability to both wield and absorb two types of mana. Coop thought it might be better than it led on. With what he had learned about mana so far, it was possible that broadening his horizons in such a way could actually lead to improved mana recovery or even absorption. Time would tell.

While he was checking titles, he observed the Reaper II title. The original Reaper title had recovered a mere 1% life from a defeated enemy, but it had first evolved by consuming the Bloodthirsty title granted for being the first to complete a 11,111 kill quest, and became slightly better while applying to mana as well. Then it evolved a second time when he let it consume the Devourer title, growing all the way to a 10% recovery of both resources. Now, with it growing yet again, the Reaper bonus was doubled. Coop smiled to himself, noting that it wasn’t doubling the original 1% Reaper bonus, but the current 10% bonus. Coop would recover 20% of his defeated enemy’s resource pools.

“Insane.” He laughed.

If his own resource pools weren’t so huge, due to his stat stacking, the title would be approaching the point of overkill. As it stood, it would merely allow what were insignificant amounts to make slightly better contributions. Gaining 60 mana instead of 30 mana per monster wasn’t much when his total was 36,000, but it was still a lot better than before.

He moved on, disappointed that he didn’t have a chance to check the Favored title that had been granted by the Deep Dweller, and was immediately consumed to alter his path choices. Much like the Vanquisher title, it was an ingredient for an evolution. The last part of his status he wanted to check was the big one: his Active Skills.

Upon completing the Path of the Mistwalker and selecting the Infusion skill, doubling or tripling down on the mist-related skills, every one of his Active Skills had merged. Retribution, Salvation, Presence of Mind, Fog of War, Vaporform, Infusion, and their individual evolutions had combined into Mistwalking. This was the change that he had immediately recognized through his imagined sixth sense.