Cole kept his head on a swivel, always watching their right flank for signs of Ram-head as they headed north toward the rendezvous with the others. Nutmeg wasn’t exactly stealthy, but she could range out ahead and on the flanks. Besson seemed to have a good idea of what her various barks, howls, and growls meant. The rain kicked up about two hours into their trek, which made scouting a little more arduous, but that would also be true for Ram-head. The mage had been the tracker, if that ethereal tracing spell was anything to go by.
Unlike Howie and Roxy, Besson showed no interest in discussing their classes and how their new abilities might work or benefit each other. Roxy had pegged the guy as a psycho, but Cole was getting the feeling he was just one of those people who liked dogs more than people and had the commensurate social skills.
But thinking about abilities reminded Cole that he’d leveled up after shooting the mage, and he could feel new pools of energy in the back of his mind. He reached into his rig to pull out his LF analyzer.
Level 6 - 55%
Primary class: Meteoric Valkyrie (1) – Evolution effect detected, next expected evolution at level 10.
Secondary class: Arquebus Engineer>
Level 6? Hadn’t he been level 4 before? Hell, even the heart-eater demon had only given him one level. Just how bonkers powerful had that mage been for him to skip a level? And how much stronger had he gotten from taking his head off? Cole scrolled down to his enhancement metrics. There was a toggle there to show totals, so he flipped it from the multiplier to the amalgamated.
Dexterity 2.5
Acuity: 3.4
Resilience: 1.9
Speed: 2.8
Intelligence: 2.5>
The most obvious indicators he had for any change was his strength and acuity. Being twice as strong explained why his three-day pack and MSV armor barely felt like more than a jacket and a day-bag. And his vision was sharper than ever, able to make out fine details and twice spot bark-men from a distance that looked ripe enough to hatch out of their cocoons.
What about the class evolutions?
Cole tapped on his primary class.
Number of uses increased to 2 per 3.4 hours, minus 15 minutes (6 minutes per intelligence). You can now carry one additional person who you are currently touching by expending a second ability charge.>
There was also the new secondary class.
Active ability: Field Strip — break down an LF attuned item for 1-3 components of lesser quality, with a 9%-12% chance of producing parts of minor quality and a 2%-3% chance of producing parts of average quality. Quality may increase with class evolutions. Number of charges equal to 2 per 2 hours, minus 12.5 minutes (5 minutes per Intelligence). Excess mass is lost.
At will: Tinker — install LF attuned components in compatible LF attuned items. Components are reshaped to fit the target item, if compatible, and firearm forms can be adjusted to accept slightly different calibers and magazines. Once installed, a component cannot be removed without destroying it.>
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
That… sounded interesting. Breaking down unwanted loot and using it to enhance the odd weapons worth keeping seemed like a great way to make use of loot that might otherwise have been abandoned or discarded. Did the parts inherit the qualities of the original? Did replacing parts reduce the effects that were already there? He’d been finding gun parts already, which was apparently very unusual. And the analyzer had to generate his class details on the fly, which meant it wasn’t already in the class library. But Cole also didn’t have any LF attuned weapons—unless the Frankensteined AR-10 counted with its new bolt and spring. What’s more, did it only work on guns that were soul-keyed to him? Or could he break down and modify anyone’s equipment?
Just like the ability from his Meteoric Valkyrie class, he could feel the abilities in the back of his mind, ready to call up as soon as he willed it.
A bark from Nutmeg caused Besson to raise his fist. Cole stopped and looked over at the man.
“When you’re done looking at your pad, we’ve got hostiles ahead,” said Besson. He hefted his gun and checked the chamber clear. His otherworld armament fired from an open bolt, and Cole did not envy trying to keep that thing clean in this forest of spores, ferns, and mud. He caught Besson eyeing his own borrowed rifle, as well.
Cole stowed the analyzer. “Even with the suppressor, someone with high acuity could hear this from a mile or more. Feel like some up-close work?”
Besson slung his otherworld machine gun and pulled a short axe out of a sheath at his belt, along with a small metal shield. The axe had the pearlescent sheen of what Cole was coming to associate with LF enchantments. The shield had only a handle on the back side. No straps for his arms, though it would have looked comically small on Besson’s thick wrist. It reminded Cole of a kid using an improvised trashcan lid shield. Cole pulled out his kali sticks and reflected that he wasn’t in any place to judge.
Together, they followed Nutmeg’s lead through two hundred meters of forest before dropping prone and low-crawling behind the apex of a small hill to scope out the area beyond. Almost a dozen fungal zombies milled in various states of decomposition. Cole couldn’t see any of the larger bark men, but several of the cocoons looked plenty ripe. This could turn sour fast. Their best bet would be to circle around and avoid the group completely. But that wouldn’t get them exp and loot, and an extra level or piece of loot might make the difference if Ram-head managed to catch up with them.
Besson met his eyes and Cole gave him a three-second warning. On one, both of them pushed to their feet and sprinted down the slope. Cole was faster than Besson, but not as fast as Nutmeg, who plowed through the formation of zombies, knocking two of them over in the process before shooting out the opposite side like a bullet, taking their attention with her.
That momentary distraction let Cole get close enough to bring his metal-capped kali sticks down on the soft skull of a fungal zombie and then swing another one into the ear of a second before the first had even hit the ground. Only their skulls weren’t soft. He was just twice as strong as he had been the day before. With the element of surprise gone, the rest of the knot of zombies turned toward them and began to snarl and lunge for them.
Besson finally caught up, using his axe to cleave through the neck of one zombie, and then bash another with his little metal shield. One more tried to grab him, but Nutmeg came crashing out of the bushes and grabbed the zombie by its arm, yanking it off its feet and then pulling the arm completely out of its socket.
Cole didn’t have much time to watch what Besson was doing, as the majority of the zombies had their ravenous gazes firmly fixed on him. He gave ground, striking wrists and elbows with the sticks before swinging the metal caps into temples and jaws. He dropped another pair of zombies by the time the first fungal bark monster tore itself from a tree.
Nutmeg charged through the formation of zombies, disrupting their attack.
“Go,” said Besson. “We’ll deal with the chaff.”
Great, give me the easy part, why don’t you? Cole thought. He charged the Wooden man, who was struggling to snap the last of the tendrils that connected it to the tree. It was the largest Cole had seen yet—maybe owing to the two heads and extra arms sprouting from its chest with clasping tendrils like conjoined twins fighting over the same cocoon. They’d fused into some sort of fungal ogre. Unfortunately, they still only had eyes for Cole, both heads fixed on him as it ripped its arm free with the snap of hundreds of tiny vines.
Cole was on the offensive, taking initiative and striking the ogre across the head and wrists before it tried to tackle him to the ground. Only his high acuity and speed let him dodge out of the way in time. But the ogre itself was stronger than the solo wood-men, and it caught one of his sticks and snapped the haft in its crushing grip, ripping it away. Cole tried to hit it with the other one, but the blunt cap just wasn’t enough for the thick bark armor and the shock sent painful vibrations back up his own arm. The creature roared at him and pressed in, and with that went their pretext of trying to remain stealthy.
Giving more ground, Cole felt his back smack into a tree. His eyes went wide as he realized he couldn’t get out of the creature’s path fast enough.