Chapter 28

  Results

  Rather than bore you with every repetitive detail of the two weeks that followed, I’ll provide a brief summary of what I got up to.

  Step 1 – blitz through Floors One and Two, pausing only to kill the firedile and troll king. Optional: antagonise the troll king to see if it’s possible to make his brain explode.

  Step 2 – leap across Floor Three repeatedly to build strength and durability. Optional: crash landing on the skeletal knight.

  Step 3 – advance to Floor Four. Dance with the roots until their mana supply is exhausted, then fuck with the tree person for a bit of fun.

  Step 4 – advance to Floor Five. Resist Evalria’s mind control. Optional: continue her therapy sessions.

  Step 5 – Complete workout using enormous rocks.

  Step 6 – allow Azzarath to beat the shit out of me while dodging as many of his attacks as possible. Optional: further investigation into the origin of the boulder.

  Because they were already so high, the strength and durability gains dried up first. But believe me, I did everything I could to squeeze out every single point. The boulder, for example, didn’t last long. It may have been useful for crushing people on a narrow path, but for someone as strong as me? Useless. I upgraded to some of the larger rock formations surrounding the castle.

  You’re probably imagining me trying to balance an enormous rock over my head. That was a significant part of it, but I also found a way to use them for durability training.

  Picture this:

  A guy with outrageous strength launches a vaguely phallic rock formation into the air. It flies so high that soon it looks like little more than a speck.

  Then it starts to fall, rapidly growing until its true identity – a massive fucking rock – is once again revealed.

  The absolute stud who threw it tracks its descent, using his limited intelligence to try and work out where it’s going to land.

  And then he steps directly underneath it.

  Peter Brookes, the innovator.

  Unfortunately, by the end of the first week, I’d run out of ideas and had to focus on intelligence and agility instead.

  Even so, the results were pretty fucking impressive, if I do say so myself.

  Current strength: 44

  Current durability: 36

  Current agility: 26

  Current intelligence: 11

  The effect of my increased agility was ridiculous. Who’d have guessed that vastly improved reflexes and coordination would go hand-in-hand with outrageous speed?

  Everybody, Pete. Even the fucking troll king could’ve told you that.

  I probably deserved a very thorough telling off for neglecting it for so long, but in my defence, watching Kaelis’s revenge rampage had been very entertaining.

  By the end of my training, Azzarath and Evalria had a better chance of winning a personality award than landing a hit on me.

  If that’s not clear enough:

  If you broke one of my legs. Had someone tickle my armpits furiously. And tied me up with one of Evalria’s whips.

  They still wouldn’t have been able to touch me.

  I’d started calling the growing awareness and control of my movement ‘speed sense’. At ten agility it had been noticeable. Now it was something else entirely. My brain could finally keep up with my body, turning me into a lean, mean, fast-moving killing machine.

  It was incredible.

  And there was still a large gap between the two stats. I wanted to see what would happen if I closed it. After checking in on the others, I intended to drag Rel back to the Tower so we could press on to Floor Six and beyond. I was half tempted to keep going on my own, but disturbing visions of fireballs quickly put an end to that idea.

  * * *

  Next up: loot.

  Let’s just say that side of things went very well indeed. I even had to pop back to see my old friend, the quartermaster, for some extra inventory pouches.

  My logic was simple.

  Does it look valuable?

  Yes. Take it.

  No. Ignore that shit.

  I quickly learned that the loot dropped by the floor bosses varied, with some items being rarer than others.

  My haul at the end consisted of:

  7x Bone Reaver

  4x Demonic Whip of Unimaginable Pain

  5x Steel Bark Blades

  6x Shadowforged Plate Mail

  4x Cast Spell: Fireball

  3x Cast Spell: Summon Undead Minion(s)

  2x Divine Plate Mail

  4x Great Axe of the Demon King

  3x Troll King Steroids

  2x Cast Spell: Nature’s Fury

  And a boatload of other shit that I assumed was used in crafting.

  I guessed I’d find Rel and Kaelis in the Oakreach Arms, so I planned to head there soon. First, though, I was curious to find out what all the items I’d looted were worth.

  My first stop was the quartermaster’s office. I could tell he was very pleased to see me. There were several clear signs. The eye roll, the muttering of ‘for fuck’s sake’ under his breath, and the very forced smile that made him look like someone in a hostage video.

  “Trialist Peter,” he said. “What can I help you with? Do you require more inventory pouches?”

  “Not this time, quartermaster,” I said, withdrawing a Bone Reaver from my inventory. The sword appeared in my hand, and I gave it an excited swing.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  The movement may have been a little too fast and… enthusiastic.

  The quartermaster’s eyes widened, and he stumbled backward, holding up his hands like I’d just walked into a bank wearing a balaclava and holding a pistol.

  “Tr- Trialist Pe- Pete,” he whimpered. “I’m sorry for any offence I may have caused. Please don’t kill me!”

  Huh?

  I noticed he was staring fixedly at the blade. Suddenly realising how it must look, I let out an awkward laugh and returned the sword to my inventory.

  “Erm, I’m sorry about that,” I said, feeling my face grow red. “I should’ve probably warned you before I pulled out a massive sword.”

  I felt pretty damn guilty when the quartermaster let out a deep breath and leaned forward to rest his trembling hands on the counter. He stared at the floor for a few moments, shaking his head and muttering under his breath.

  He straightened up, a shadow of his earlier composure returning. He eyed me for a few moments and then sighed.

  “What is it that you need?”

  “Well,” I said, gesturing to the pouch, “I have Bone Reavers and a shitload of other items to sell.”

  This time, the quartermaster’s smile was entirely genuine.

  “I’m afraid that is not something I can assist with,” he replied, gesturing towards the door. “You will need to go and discuss the matter with the auction master.”

  “Where can I-” I started to say, but I was already being ushered out of the room.

  “Sorry I couldn’t be of further help,” he said. “Please do not hesitate to return if-”

  I was unable to make out the final few words as the door slammed shut behind me.

  How rude.

  A small part of me was tempted to go back in and withdraw one of the demon king’s axes.

  * * *

  As I wandered through the Accommodation centre looking for the auction master’s office, I noticed something rather strange.

  There were huddles of Trialists littered about the place. That was not the strange part. What was strange was their reaction when they caught sight of me. Whatever they had been talking about was quickly forgotten, and I suddenly became the focus of all their attention.

  They attempted to be subtle.

  They were not very good at it.

  It was furtive glances, hushed whispers, and even a few small, hesitant nods.

  For the briefest of moments, I felt a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, my peasant garb was finally getting the attention it deserved. That hope was dashed instantly when I heard one of them gasp and whisper ‘Master Pete’.

  What the fuck had Rel and Kaelis been up to?

  * * *

  I asked one of the assistants for directions and, not long after, found myself knocking on the auction master’s door.

  “Enter!”

  It was a large - and to my surprise - sparsely furnished office. I’d been expecting to see mountains of books and strange devices used for examining items. Instead, the auction master sat behind a large desk, with some sort of holographic computer tablet hovering over its surface.

  I did a double-take when I saw it. Other than the ‘system interface’, it was the first evidence of technology I’d seen in this place since the asshole robot I’d dealt with on my first day.

  On seeing my expression, the auction master – an elderly orc – chuckled. The laughter lines etched into his pale green skin suggested it was something he did often, and I instantly found myself liking the guy. Unlike the quartermaster, he didn’t appear to have an enormous stick wedged up his ass.

  “We do our best to maintain the medieval aesthetic,” he said, his voice a deep, pleasant rumble. “But there has to be a limit. We deal with thousands of transactions a day. Can you imagine how much of a nightmare it would be if it all had to be done by scroll?”

  I nodded.

  “That sounds like it’d be a massive pain in the ass.”

  The auction master stared at me for a moment and then broke into a roar of laughter. He banged a powerful hand against the desk, the wood groaning in protest.

  “I suppose that’s as good a way as any to put it,” he said after he’d taken a few deep breaths. “Ahh, it’s been some time since I’ve heard someone speak so bluntly. This place is all politics and maneuvering for every possible advantage.”

  I grinned and then took another look around the near-empty room.

  “Thousands of transactions a day?” I said. “I thought there’d be more… I don’t know. People? Stuff?”

  “When I said thousands a day, I didn’t mean by me personally,” he replied. “Unlike other aspects of the Trial – the Tower of Potential, for example – the auction house isn’t limited to a single Trial Cluster. The items you sell here can be bought by any Trialist who visits an auction house.”

  I stared blankly at him for a few moments, his words working their way through my brain.

  Trial Cluster?

  “I’m sorry, auction master,” I said, reaching up to scratch the back of my head. “What’s a Trial Cluster?”

  “Lad,” he replied slowly. “Did you take a blow to the head in the Tower? Your Initiation Guide should’ve explained how the Trial is organised.”

  My Initiation Guide…?

  I knew that metallic asshole hadn’t told me everything! The evil laughter as it teleported away made a lot more sense now.

  I sighed and spent the next few minutes explaining my humble ‘beginnings’ to the auction master, his eyes darkening as he listened. I actually felt a little touched by the outrage he appeared to be feeling on my behalf.

  “Outrageous!” he growled. “A blatant dereliction of duty! I've half a mind to file a formal complaint and have the arrogant little bastard sent to the scrap heap.”

  Okay, this guy was more than alright.

  “Right,” he said, pausing to consider his words. “Due to the colossal scale of Galaxy Showdown, the Trialists are divided into Clusters of fifty thousand. Within each Cluster, there are ten Divisions of five thousand Trialists.”

  I nodded.

  The leaderboards suddenly made more sense. When I’d first checked them back in the forest, I’d been in last place in several categories at #4,843. I could only assume the missing one hundred and fifty-seven people had become the unfortunate inspiration for the kill score rankings.

  “Many features of a Trial Cluster are unique,” he continued. “For example, the Tower of Potential only exists within ours. There are, however, certain features that are shared across all Clusters – the auction house being one of them.”

  “So there are ten Divisions within a Cluster,” I said. “That means there are fifty thousand people who have access to the Tower of Potential? I don’t understand. How is it possible that no one else has cleared Floor Four when there are so many people using it?”

  “I’m afraid your information is a little outdated,” said the auction master. “A party of five Trialists managed to clear Floor Four a few days ago. One of them died in the process, so they’re currently looking for a replacement. Once they’ve done that, they intend to advance to Floor Five. Besides, when we say ‘the first to clear’ we mean in the context of our Division, not the entire Cluster. There are items listed on the Auction House from as high as Floor Eight.”

  Floor Eight?

  Shit.

  We were falling behind. The urge to grab Rel and drag him back to the Tower was growing by the second. Still, I couldn’t deny that the thought of other Trialists reaching Floor Eight was fucking exciting. There must be some pretty damn strong people out there! And that was only in our Cluster - who knew how strong Trialists in the other Clusters might be?

  “As well as that,” he continued, “you’re assuming that everyone in our Division will be using the Tower of Potential to train. There are plenty of other opportunities available that are just as effective.”

  That made even more sense. I'd thought it was strange that other top-ranking Trialists like Lokta’Inif hadn't advanced higher up the Tower by this point. After all, they were probably just as strong as me.

  The auction master’s words had given me so much to think about that my thoughts were a little scattered. Divisions? Clusters? Opportunities other than the Tower?

  Rel and I seriously needed to talk.

  I was just about to say goodbye and make a mad dash to the Oakreach Arms when I suddenly remembered why I was there.

  I had a fuckload of stuff to sell.

  “Thanks for explaining everything,” I said. “You’re a much better guide than that dickhead robot. Don’t report him though – once this is over, I’m going to hunt the little shit down and punt him into orbit. It’d be a real shame if he was scrapped before then.”

  I withdrew a Bone Reaver from my inventory.

  Unlike the quartermaster, the auction master didn’t shit himself. Instead, he rose to his feet and examined it with professional interest.

  “Place the item on the desk,” he said, gesturing to the spot beneath the holographic tablet.

  I followed his instructions, and the moment I set it down, a net of blue light projected from the tablet and began scanning the item. Another small screen appeared in front of the auction master, and I saw the light reflected in his eyes as he studied the item’s information.

  “Bone Reaver,” he muttered. “Floor Three. Dropped by Tarridor, the Undead Champion of Necrodar. Minor stat increases and an interesting special effect.”

  He glanced up at me.

  “This is a valuable item,” he said. “There are only four currently listed on the auction house. You have two options: I can buy it from you now at a discounted rate, or you can list it for sale. You’d likely make more money that way, but you’ll have to wait for it to sell before claiming the gold.”

  “When you say ‘discounted rate’, what are we talking?” I said. “And if I list it on the auction house, how long will it take to sell?”

  He glanced at the screen again, swiping a hand through the air to change the display.

  “If we make the deal right now, I can offer you 17,352 gold,” he replied. “However, if you list it on the auction house, it could take up to a week to sell and there will be a 5% auction fee.”

  The final part of his sentence barely registered.

  Over seventeen thousand gold… for a single Bone Reaver?

  You know those cartoons where the character’s eyes turn into dollar signs?

  Yep.

  “Trialist,” said the auction master, a note of worry in his voice. “Is everything okay?”

  Without realising it, I’d started to chuckle under my breath, rubbing my hands together.

  I cleared my throat.

  “Yes,” I said, feeling my face grow warm. “I think I’ll go half and half. I’ll sell some of the items to you and then list the rest on the auction house.”

  “Some items?” he asked, eyebrows raised. “What else do you have?”

  “I think you’re going to enjoy this,” I said, grinning.

  I withdrew the other six Bone Reavers.

  The auction master’s eyes widened.

  I withdrew the four demonic whips.

  His jaw sagged.

  I withdrew the four Great Axes of the Demon King.

  He gasped.

  I withdrew the five Steel Bark Blades.

  This time, he was the one who started chuckling under his breath. I wasn’t the only one with dollar signs in my eyes anymore.

  And so it continued, until the empty office wasn’t quite so empty anymore.

  * * *

  Oh.

  To answer the questions on everybody’s mind:

  It is, in fact, possible to make the troll king’s brain explode.

  It actually made him a little smarter.

  It turned out Evalria had no lingering childhood trauma.

  She was just an asshole.

  The boulder was apparently something of a mascot.

  They called it Barry…

  Barry the Boulder.