Savage Awakening: A LitRPG Apocalypse

Zane hadn’t thought much about the Red Moon Pagoda. It was always in the background propping him up. But his soul held up just fine most of the time. It wasn’t much of a concern, he felt.

Only lately had it been tested. Only lately had it shown signs of cracking at all—when that False Ascendant had gotten its teeth deep into him, sank Corruption deep into his flesh and soul—it had cracked at the edges. Just a little.

It still wasn't like he felt a serious threat there. But he supposed he could do with a tune-up.

He figured the Red Moon Pagoda must have new stuff too, now that he was Nascent—not just his Shield. It was good to check things out while he had time.

He sat down and closed his eyes.

***

The pagoda appeared in his mind like one of those ancient temples some emperor might have lived in. Lacquered red and gold, carefully and intricately crafted. It showed no signs of use or age. It hummed in resonance with Zane’s soul.

He made his way into the lobby. The closer he got, the more the place seemed to light up, change color; the red was bleeding more and more to purple, washing over the walls of the seven-sided lobby, painting over each of those seven gilded doors…

A glowing red wraith shambled over. A man in plain robes, yawning like he'd just woken from a long nap, he rubbed his eyes.

You again, said the Red Moon Spirit, sounding a little groggy, a little grumbly. Then he squinted, put his hands up to his face—Ack! Turn down that aura, will you?! Nine hells!

Zane blinked. Looked down. And only then did he realize that all that purple light seemed to be washing out from himself. He was rather blinding in here—in the Astral Plane. Like a star brought low to earth.

Well this was new.

He wasn't even sure how to turn it down. He frowned, sussed it out with his senses, tried focusing more closely—there. Waves of power poured out from him, as natural as body heat.

It took a little finagling, but he managed to rein all of it in. Until they hovered just over skin. The Spirit blinked at him.

Well. Hello again, Zane Walker. How long has it been—a century? Two? I see you’ve made Ascendant.

“I did?” said Zane.

Hold on, said the Red Moon Spirit. It frowned at him. It frowned deeper. Hold on.

Zane waited.

Don’t tell me you’re Nascent Soul, said the Red Moon Spirit.

“Okay,” said Zane.

One of its eyes started to twitch.

What—what grade of Nascent Soul is that?! it cried. How did you manage to—

It cut itself short. Put its hands up. Actually, I do not want to know. It sighed, pinched the bridge of its nose, muttered something under its breath. Zane stood there blinking.

The Red Moon Spirit finally crossed its arms. Very well! What can I do for you, my… absurdly well-endowed … friend?

Zane scratched his head.

Usually, he was quite happy about his size. But it had become something of a sore point for the past few hours—he wasn't quite sure how he felt about it at the moment. For a man whose basic life philosophy was, "there is no such thing as too big," today was quite a confusing experience.

Anyway.

He figured he could deal with this little existential crisis later.

First things first—

"I want to upgrade my shield," said Zane.

I see, said the Spirit. Yes—now that you're Nascent, you have the right. You’ll be able to upgrade it all the way to Sky - Legendary. You’ll need Ascendant to go past that.

It paused. Well! If how things went before are any indication, this shouldn't take very long. Do follow me.

It turned, strolled to the second door of the seven set deep into the walls. You do remember the process, don't you? It said without turning back.

"You throw some trials at me. It tempers my shield. I Level it up.”

That about sums it up. The Spirit waved a hand. The runes on the door began to spin like gears cranking, and it rumbled open. The Spirit rubbed its palms together.

Right! Shall we begin?

Zane ambled in after. Up a staircase, into a misty miasma realm; gray mists tickling his ankles, spreading horizon to horizon, fuzzing out the distance, the ceiling. It was impossible to tell how big the place was. It seemed some sandbox realm—much like the first floor of the pagoda, in his memory.

It was just that the mists here were endowed with thicker essence. The very realm was; the fabric of reality here was firmer, harder to tear. This was a higher grade space.

Zane Walker! said the Spirit, waving a stern finger. Ready yourself. For the first trial of the second floor—the test of the Sky-Realm Shield—shall now begin!

It turned out the Spirit was just about right.

This time around went much like the first time.

The Pagoda conjured up a bunch of ghostly monsters. Hydras to blast him with flickering blue fireballs that seared in the astral plane. A swarm of ice-phoenixes that set upon him, showering soul-piercing icicles. A crowd of earth ogres whose clubs bashed the soul as much as the body...

Zane took out his Shield of the Blood Moon—bolstered now by his Primordial Nascent Soul. And took them head-on, one by one.

The more he wielded his Soul the more he felt the difference. There was always some leak, some essence lost, when other Nascent Souls tried powering their Skills. It came seamless with him. No weakness in its structure. Which made quite a bit of difference in the raw power he could put through it.

The Shield he got going—a massive scarlet circle, a bloody background—was a proud and powerful thing.

Even so, the first time he went up against that hydra, it got a pretty big crack going. The thing was the ghost of some Ascendant beast, it seemed. He felt that first blast rattling down his shield, felt the vibrations rattling through him, trembling his very soul. Almost knocking him over where he stood. Then the next blast came, and the next…

It took some jaw-clenching and brow-furrowing on Zane’s part to stick it through. But all the while—

Skill up!

Skill up!

Skill up!

Skill up!

Skill up!

Shield of the Blood Moon I -> XI

Zane’s shield had got a good deal brighter—had started to exude some of that purple light going around him. And the hydra’s blasts had trouble making so much as a dent….

Until—

Skill evolved!

Shield of the Blood Moon [Common (S) -> Uncommon (S)]

And the ghost-hydra sputtered out.

The old Spirit was staring at him.

Hmm, it said.

“What,” said Zane. He was still breathing a bit heavy.

You know, it said slowly. I thought I’d be used to it by now.

Zane blinked at it.

…Nevermind. You’re ready for the next Trial, I assume?

Before Zane could even respond—

Of course you are. Have at you!

Pretty much the same thing happened with those ice-birds.

Skill up!

Skill up!

Skill up!

Skill up!

Until—

Shield of the Blood Moon [Uncommon (S) -> Rare (S)]

And those ogres too, swarming him bashing and slobbering—cracking his new Sky-Rare Shield so much it started to shake, so much Zane had to fight, groaning under the onslaught, just to stick it through…

But by the end, it was much the same.

…

Skill up!

Skill up—

Skill evolved!

Shield of the Blood Moon [Rare (S) -> Epic (S)]

It threw a field of giant flowers at Zane that spewed some kind of hypnosis powder. They made him yawn, but that was about it. Some half-naked sirens on rocks, singing to him, who for some reason looked exactly like Reina. They did not have much of an effect on him either. The psychic attacks, anyway.

Eventually—

Skill evolved!

Shield of the Blood Moon [Epic (S) -> Legendary (S)]

Zane’s Blood Moon’s bloody aura had grown as blinding as his Primordial one by then. New features began showing up on it—little craters and false oceans, as though on a true moon. It had gained some sort of life-ness; the quality of its aura had changed at the most basic level.

Right then! said the Spirit, and the last of the illusions vanished, leaving the two of them blinking at each other. That’s your new peak shield. If any Ascendant wants to try a psychic attack on you… I wish them luck! Even some Minor Gods will have trouble breaking through. And you certainly needn’t be concerned about being mind-controlled or given suggestions, even from them—it’ll slide right off.

Zane nodded. This was pretty much the shield tune-up he had been hoping for.

“So,” he said. “What now?”

That depends, said the Spirit, frowning at him. What would you like to do next? One option is to come back when you reach Level 400—then you can unlock the last Level of the Red Moon Shield. That is by far the most robust—it can stand up to even the attacks of True Gods… but it’s also so difficult not even the Red Moon Emperor fully mastered it! I’ll wager that would give even you a run for your money.

“But that won’t be until after Ascendant,” said Zane.

That’s right. As for what else you can do now— It stroked its chin. Another Skill has opened up to you—one that deals in offense. The third floor of the Red Moon Pagoda.

Zane nodded. That didn’t take too much of his energy—he figured he had capacity to get at least one more Skill here.

It’s less a Skill unto itself, than an evolution of an existing one, said the Spirit. It’s the Sky-grade Version of Emperor’s Will. It shapes the soul into a weapon, which one can use to strike at one’s enemies… it is what allowed the Red Moon Emperor to dominate a galactic sector from the comfort of his fortress. To strike down enemies light-years away with merely an effort of will!

That did sound interesting to Zane. Not so much because he wanted to shoot at folk from a distance—that did not interest him much. He preferred face-to-face—really fist-to-face—ways of conflict resolution, most of the time.

But maybe there was some carry-over to his Concept problem. Making his soul into an attacking shape was his main issue, after all…

I ought to mention, said the Spirit. The more Soul you have to marshal, the more difficult it might be to shape.

It had a thought. Which means, actually, that this may not come as freakishly fast to you as the Shield did.

It seemed quite relieved at this thought for some reason.

“Hmm,” said Zane. This sounded something like his problem with his Stormfire Concept.

He followed the Spirit up a murky staircase which opened out of nowhere, going into seemingly nowhere. Until it vanished behind him, and Zane found himself on the third floor.

The third floor’s mists were tinged red. The sky was the shade of dried blood, the grounds some uniform blackened wood. But otherwise it wasn’t so different from the second floor—just a different shade of purgatory, it seemed to Zane. Another kind of sandbox floor.

In these Trials—the Trials of Emperor’s Might, declared the Spirit. You will learn to wield the true firepower of the soul! Are you ready?

“Yup,” said Zane.

Let’s begin small.

It summoned a Monster, plopped it right in front of Zane. About the size of a barn, looming over him. Six wings, four eyes, a forked tongue—a sleek body rippling with dark scales, smoking with shadow…

Mutant Shadow Drake (Essence Level 325)

What you must do, said the Spirit. Is to kill this beast without touching it in flesh. You must learn to project the powers of your soul—and smite it where it stands.