Hope froze as he stared at the open chamber ahead. There were several Scorchbacks—four of them—two on each side of that…
Scorchbrute [Elite]
Level 62
The guy was more than a head taller than the rest—and by that, it was their head, not Hope’s. It also had what looked like an old iron helmet, and instead of the usual slab of metal, it carried a proper-looking mace in one hand and a massive shield in the other.
Hope didn’t need to analyse much to be sure: he was no match for that guy.
He’d talked with Eve about these so-called Elite variants after that encounter with the big worm. Basically, they were roughly 20% stronger than a same-level common variant. And that meant this fucker wasn’t just level 62—it was 20% stronger than a Scorchback at that level! Just… insane.
Hope shook his head. He guessed the Elite would drop a lot more coins than the others, but it simply wasn’t worth it.
Yeah. He’d come back later… much later.
He gave it one last look and went back the same way he came. A shame though—he could’ve used more of those Scorchbacks in the tunnel to rack up credits faster.
He sighed as he exited the place and, without much thought, went off to hunt a couple more.
After finishing another five, he encountered another one of those weird tunnels.
So there are more of them?
He guessed there was another Elite inside, but he was confident in his ability to escape if push came to shove. These brutes were strong and tough—but not that fast.
Hope gripped his spear tight and made his way in.
He found a similar pattern, with two groups of two popping up. He finished them off with minimal use of Air Gear. He was also getting more familiar with the new way of enhancing his thrust using Air Magika—combining the push and pull thing.
He suddenly stopped as, up ahead, instead of one path, there were actually three.
Hope raised an eyebrow and, after a brief hesitation, just took the left.
The route led to more fights with Scorchbacks.
He used the terrain to his advantage, leaping from the walls like a spring and timing his thrusts just right to take out each giant in a single, well-aimed strike.
After the last one fell, he felt the familiar prompt:
Level 41?42
That was a lot of ‘em for one level. This was getting pretty slow.
By this point, Hope was feeling really thirsty. The heat and dryness of the place only made it worse. After pondering for a bit, he made his way all the way back to the start, ignoring the rest of the Scorchbacks along the way.
“That was quick, kiddo. Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon,” Gob said with a grin as he leaned forward.
Hope gave him a look, wiped the sweat off his brow, and groaned. “Don’t get your scales in a twist. Ain’t here for your charming company.”
Gob chuckled, tapping the counter. “No? And here I was about to offer you tea and gossip.”
Hope raised an eyebrow. “Tea, what’s that?”
Gob blinked, then burst out laughing, slapping the counter. “Stars, you really are a Crawler through and through.”
Hope shrugged. “I drink water and stuff that ain’t water. That’s my range.”
“Well, tea’s like hot leaf juice,” Gob said, grinning. “Supposed to calm your nerves, but I think it just makes people pretend they’re fancier than they are.”
“Yeah, sounds useless.”
“You’d fit right in with the mountain clans,” Gob said, reaching under the counter. “Anyway, what’s the damage? You look like a lizard left in the sun too long.”
Hope dug into his pouch and pulled out his coin. One side read ‘285’. He tilted it toward Gob. “Water.”
Gob slid a dented flask across the counter. “Got’ya. Here you go—ten credits for a litre of pure, fresh water. Better than anything you’ve ever tried.”
“Ten!? You mean one fuckin’ Scorchback for a... what? And what the hell’s a litre?”
Gob smirked. “It’s a unit of volume. Means ‘enough to keep you from keeling over for a few hours.’”
Hope narrowed his eyes. “That sounds made up.”
“So’s most of the crap in this world,” Gob said, waving a hand. “Trust me, it’s the good stuff. Comes straight from the highland collectors. No sand, no rot, and no lava fumes.”
Hope grumbled but flicked the coin at Gob. “Give me three of those litres… wait,” he turned to Eve. “How much do you want?”
“One is fine,” she said.
“Okay, make it five then, Gob. All with good containers, I suppose?”
“Well of course, lad. Who do you take me for? How could I treat my best client so poorly?” he grinned.
“Well, yeah. I’m like the only one, huh?” Hope muttered as he did a quick mental count of what he had left. Not much room to buy anything useful. He wasn’t hungry either—but maybe...
“Put in some of that good, fancy meat too. And… maybe that tea thing.”
Gob said nothing and just smiled knowingly.
“Well, that’ll be—Five litres of water, sealed tight—fifty credits. One cut of flameboar steak, smoked and wrapped—twenty-five. And one pouch of cloudleaf tea, brewed fresh on the spot…”
He held up a crooked finger, then snapped it.
A soft orange glow spread through his hand as he hovered it beneath a battered tin kettle. The water inside hissed instantly, steam rising in a sharp curl.
“—ten credits for the leaf, and another five for boilin’ it proper with Heat Magika, courtesy of yours truly.” He waggled his fingers, then poured the tea into a lidded clay cup and sealed it.
“Ninety credits total, and a smile thrown in for free.”
Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
Hope rolled his eyes. “Yeah, just finish the scam already.”
“Pleasure doin’ business, lad,” Gob said with a toothy grin. “Here you go.”
Hope grabbed the whole bundle, then paused. He held out the tea toward Eve. “Here.”
Eve’s eyes widened. She blinked. “Hope, there’s no need. I’m just—”
“Come on, just take it. I figure this is the kind of fancy stuff you’re used to, right? And maybe the meat’s better than worm-chunks or whatever. Just take it. I’m not hungry.”
He popped the cap on one of the water containers and lifted it.
“I’m just damn thirsty.”
He gulped the whole litre in one long pull, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and let out a breath.
“Fuck, that’s good.”
Eve accepted the tea with both hands, silent for a moment.
“Thank you,” she finally said, voice soft.
Hope scratched his cheek and looked away. “Yeah, whatever. Let’s mov— I mean, you can finish your stuff. No rush.”
Eve nodded as she sat down on the ground and… and… was that meat box floating?!
Hope gulped, staring as Eve calmly sipped the tea and ate the meat in a way that felt way too inefficient. Like some ritual. Treatin’ the meat like it was sacred or somethin’. Probably just some Citizen thing.
He didn’t press and focused on his own stuff.
Based on the region and the credit system, it was clear he was gonna be here for a while. Maybe a couple of weeks even… if the fuckers in the sky didn’t start throwin’ red beams mid-week or sendin’ down more Hectors for him to carve up.
But be as it might. If there was one thing he’d learned growing up, it was to adapt. Whatever came, ride the flow. Life’s a bitch—and the sooner you get that, the happier you’ll live.
He checked his stats.
Physis: 3272 (+579) [+400]
Magia: 475 (+95)[+30]
They’d gone up a bit, but not by a lot. Leveling didn’t give all that much—especially compared to high-level skills or feats.
Meaning, he should focus on the latter. Especially Spear Handling and Air Handling.
He should also try to better combine Air Magika with his fighting style... sigh, so much to do.
Hope stared at the hazy sky above.
Minutes later, Eve finished, and they set out again.
And just like that… five days went by.
Hope’s boots hit the wall, kicked off, then bounced to the other side, using the tunnel itself like a spring. The Scorchbacks turned, but way too slow.
His form flickered.
The spear in his hand tilted slightly as he flew between them. A blur. A breath. Then—
Shluck. Shluck. Shluck.
Three bodies froze mid-turn, mouths still half-open, eyes wide.
A moment later, blood sprayed from their throats as they dropped like stones, the floor shaking with the weight.
Hope spun low, landing light, his boots barely making a sound. Wind brushed his hair, steady and calm. The rhythm under his feet was tight now—Magika pulsing clean, each step sharp and sure.
He didn’t wait.
There was another group up ahead.
He kicked off the side wall again, twisted high, then slammed down heel-first onto the first Scorchback’s skull. The crunch echoed hard.
Still midair, he spun and jabbed his spear into the second’s neck—clean, deep, gone. Then he pushed off its shoulder, launched backward, flipped his grip, and hurled the spear through the third’s face just as it tried to move.
Didn’t even blink.
He hit the ground with a roll, grabbed the spear mid-spin, and exhaled slow through his nose.
Everything felt right.
Eve had explained some of it—talked about pressure and space, the air pushing and pulling. He didn’t get all the words, but he got the feel.
He could feel when it was right now.
The spear slid faster.
The wind didn’t fight him anymore.
His steps were quieter. Smoother. Like the air itself helped him move.
And the form—Air Gear—he could hold it longer without burning out, now that the wind drag was reduced. He could also move faster while using it.
Seemed like there was more to Active Skills than just obtaining them… properly using one took time and practice. There was a lot of potential to dig into.
He waited calmly as all the coins came flying toward him, merging one after the next.
‘6350’
Quite the haul today, he grinned.
The new ring had been a decent buy, alright. A thousand credits, but worth it.
Windloop Ring
Rank 1 Accessory (Grade: F)
Requirements: Air Handling (Level 3), Magia 120
Effect: +10 Magia, +1 Air Handling
After taking a deep breath, he made his way forward.
Today was the day, after all.
As he reached the open chamber, he saw it. He didn’t know how much time had passed since he first came here—the lack of a main star made it a guessing game—but he was sure several days had gone by… surely.
Hope had made great progress recently. Besides hitting Level 49 after a long and painful grind, he’d also upgraded several of his skills while refining both his combat form and Magika control—a lot, if he said so himself.
??Sharpwatch (Level 3?4)
When unseen, you see more. Your senses heighten in silence and shadow.
? 20% increase in perception while observing unaware targets.
??Longstride (Level 5?6 + 2)
Your body remembers the rhythm. Endurance becomes movement.
? 40% reduction in stamina drain while running.
? +250 Physis permanently.
?? Close-Quarter Combat (Level 6?7 + 3)
Instinctive adaptations for tight engagements.
? 50% reduction in stamina drain during close quarter combat.
? +600 Physis permanently
??Spear Handling (Level 6?7 + 1)
You’ve grown used to the feel of a spear—how to hold, move, and strike with it.
? 40% reduction in stamina drain when using spears or spear-like weapons.
? +8% to Physis while the spear is your designated weapon.
??Magika Sensing (Level 5?6)
Magika leaves fingerprints on the world. You’ve learned to spot the smudges.
? 30% increase in Magika perception.
? +30 Magia permanently.
??Air Handling (Level 7?8 + 3)
You feel the pressure in motion—the shift before the gust—and how to guide its path.
? 55% reduction in mental strain when manipulating Air Magika.
? +11% to Magia while in the presence of Air Magika (only the highest applicable Magika Handling effect applies at once)
?? Hunter (G4?G2)
You’ve tracked, fought, and brought down 1000 living creatures. The body begins to harden with repetition.
? +250 Physis permanently.
Level 49
Physis: 3915 (+736) [+400]
Magia: 520 (+115)[+40]
And now… now he was confident enough to finally give it a shot.
Scorchbrute [Elite]
Level 62
Come on, big guy.
