Sleeping Player (Project Chrysalis Book 3) by John Gold (highly illogical behavior .txt) 📗

enough to scare off most players, and the more curios among them would die in the first second. The blacksmith sees me as I walk in.

“I don’t have many visitors, and especially not while I’m working. Are you looking for something, young man?”

“A blade, the cheapest and simplest you have.”

The blacksmith drops his hammer on his foot, but that doesn’t stop him laughing.

“Accursed blades, vampire swords, mind weapons…” Another peal breaks out, and the red-hot metal he’s working on falls to the floor. “And you’re here for my cheapest blade?”

There’s a secret lurking in each of the city’s dark alleys, and I just found one of them. The blacksmith is an artifactor with mental modification. Only people with strong resistance to mental damage can work with palirin, a cursed metal, and only mages can modify their mental body. There aren’t many artifactors willing to dump all their attribute points into their strength and stamina.

“You know, when palirin is heated up, it does mental damage. Only artifactors with mental modification can turn it into a weapon, which is why I have to work practically around the clock to keep up with all the orders coming in.”

“Who uses weapons like that?”

“Mostly mage swordsmen and lone wolves. An evil spirit hides in accursed blades, doing damage to their owner. It’s a symbiote that sucks health from the owner but does more damage than usual weapons. Vampire blades take health from the enemy to restore their owner’s health. Each blade has a satiation attribute, and it goes back to being a normal blade once it’s saturated. That passes quickly though.”

“Is that legal? Isn’t it forbidden magic?”

“Nope. Everything’s aboveboard, and swords like these are permitted.”

“What’s a mind weapon?”

“Mage swordsmen use them. The palirin lets them cast a spell on the weapon so it does extra damage, though each sword is unique—they’re laced with the blood of their owner. That connection is what unlocks the ability to cast spells with the blade itself.”

We agree that I’ll work for the blacksmith for seven days, and he’ll make one mind blade for me in return. A simple weapon will be my payment for helping him out tonight.

During the day, I work with the swordplay instructor. Despite my beggarly look, he takes me seriously, and I can’t beat him. He’s a sword master with tons of experience under his belt.

The next day, I have my battle for the title of scholar, and it’s the first time I use magic to win. Across from me is a girl in the light plate armor of a mage swordsman. The first thing she does is throw up a diamond shield on top of a magic shield, and then she summons two snake golems. For a normal battle, that would be a standard tactic—when you don’t know what your opponent’s strength is, you make sure you’re safe, and then start probing him.

“Light hammer! Maximum.”

But that’s not me. An enormous hammer made out of pure white light smashes the diamond shield and the girl into the ground. In the explosion, the two golems and the girl are killed. I feel the shock wave even from thirty meters away, and the thunder peals in my ears. The battle lasts just seconds. On the other hand, it’s valuable experience for me.

I spend the rest of the day at the arena, watching the other gladiators and learning as much as I can. The mages use familiars to boost the damage they do and the number of spells they can cast, though they can’t combine them into a single devastating attack the way I can with my streams of consciousness. It’s like the flames coming from the nozzles of a plasma engine. If you have three nozzles directing their flames at the same spot, the temperature there rises. Still, it won’t be as high as the temperature of one flame that’s three times as powerful. It’s basically the same with my streams of consciousness and the familiars the other mages have.

The warriors have skills that let them increase their health—the amount of damage they can take tells me as much. On the other hand, they all rely on their equipment, and not on their mastery. If Femida were here, she’d beat them all to a pulp.

In a word, the world surged on ahead while I was lying in my coma. The mages are better, some with the same resistance I had many years ago. I need a better sword and a better shield, but first, I need to go find Femida.

As soon as I step into the tunnel, the stone door closes, cutting off my escape route. It’s the first dungeon I’ve ever been in. What can a mage who restores 30000 mana a minute and has eleven streams of consciousness do?

“Attribute window.”

Name: Sagie (LJ)

Level: 847

Experience: 1186150/1861200 (971090 left until the next level)

Race: Human

Class: Mage

 

Basic attributes

Strength: 660

Agility: 660

Stamina: 660

Intellect: 6315

Wisdom: 851

Available attribute points: 0

 

Additional attributes

Speed:  500

Athleticism: 660

Morale: 660

Survivability: 660

I spend all my attribute points on intellect, so I have plenty of mana. After activating stealth, I set off quietly down the dark tunnel. The dust that kicks up hangs in the air, tickling my nose, and I feel my hearing sharpen. I sense a slight draft. The soft sound of my own footsteps echoes off the wall, my imagination filling in the rest of the picture.

Far off in the distance, I hear bones scraping together, not to mention the lingering grunt of a dried zombie. The smell of sulfur drifts up on the breeze—there are demons around here somewhere.

After walking through the tunnel, I lean up against a wall with a stone button. My perception outlines it in green even in the complete darkness.

I’m about to press the button when I hear a