LIGHTNOVELONLINE Chapter 62: Phase Level 2
Chapter 62: Phase Level 2
It wasn’t until after the ringing in his ears had completely subsided that Zach realized it had ever been present in the first place. With all the other tumultuous sensations rioting through his body, it was amazing he’d become aware of it at all. Strangely, he almost wished it had remained, as its absence meant that he could now more clearly hear the demanding questions Fylwen was shouting at him while he dismissed his stats screen and tried to stand up straighter. On shaky, but quickly steadying legs, he channeled all of his willpower and fought to bring himself further under control.
“What are you waiting for?” the Elvish queen snapped. She waved her arm in an arc in front of herself as though to gesture at the mass of approaching zombies. “We’re being overrun. Start killing!”
Rather than reply, Zach held up his pointer finger. Then, tuning her out, he took a few precious moments to allow his head to clear and his body to fully adjust to Phase Level 2. Fylwen didn’t seem to appreciate this, and it only seemed to encourage her to badger him with an even greater fervor. Even still, he had no choice: he needed to anchor himself. Despite knowing it would only further upset her, he continued to ignore the distraught woman as the rush of negative sensations steadily retreated, some of which were more worrying than others.
His heart, for one, was beating terrifyingly fast, and his posture, though straight, felt like it required a greater amount of effort to keep upright. Closing his eye for just a few seconds, he tried to filter out the shouts, grunts, and horse-like cries from the mounted unicorns soaring above him. He attempted to slow his breathing and calm the pounding in his chest. One thing was for sure, though: he knew he was going to live—at least until the end of Unleashed Phase, anyway.
Having managed to pick himself up off the ground, Zach was positive that the worst of his inner storm had passed. Although it had only been twenty-or-so seconds since he’d activated Unleashed Phase for the third time, nearly all of his most-serious issues had relented. Even his furious heart was beginning to calm itself. What lingered now was a particularly harsh wave of dizziness and inertia that was also rapidly fading, likely to be gone in just a few more moments. But there was one issue in particular that became more prominent and noticeable as his other problems abated: something that did not appear to be improving. In fact, it appeared to be worsening.
Zach winced and groaned as an all-consuming tingling sensation flared up in his slowly regrowing right arm while an even fiercer one radiated in the socket where his right eye used to be. Though the feeling was not outright “painful” in the typical sense, it was uncomfortable to the point of torture—and it was getting worse, too. By the time he’d gotten his breathing back under control, the sensation grew to become unbearable. It was far worse than the itching he’d experienced the night prior. In many ways, it reminded him of the way it felt whenever he slept on his arm and woke up with it asleep. First, it would be numb. Then, it would fill with a sensation not all that dissimilar to the one he currently felt. Finally, he’d get the “pins and needles.” Right now, he was experiencing a combination of all three, only to an absurdly higher degree.
“Fucking hell,” he growled, shaking his arm. The last time he’d given it a good look over, it had grown a few inches from the point of the shoulder blade. Now, he glanced down at where it jutted out of his maroon-colored tunic, and when he did, his mouth fell open. “What the hell?”
“What’s going on with you?” Fylwen asked, moving closer to him. “Why do you look so—huh? Is that…?”
Zach tried to speak, but the sensation in his arm became so powerful that he was no longer able to form words. Yet even if he could, he imagined he’d still be too shocked and confused to say much of anything. A single thought popped up in his head and overtook his entire brain. It was a question, actually. Right now, he wanted to know just one thing: was this real? Was he really, actually seeing this?
It’s growing, he thought. Either I’m going crazy, or it’s growing!
Even as he filled with amazement, he could only moan and groan while his limb expanded and sprouted in real time right in front of him. Lifting his arm, he stared down at where his hand would have been, and he became both entranced and stunned as he observed bone and tissue forming inside of his growing arm while a shallow layer of red-tinted skin stretched and wrapped itself around it. Beneath this shallow layer, he could see blood filling inside through freshly grown veins before even more, thicker layers of skin formed on top of it. It was a sight as disgusting as it was fascinating.
“Why’s this happening?” he asked, releasing another drawn-out groan as strange, but tremendously intense sensations continued to erupt in his right, regrowing arm.
“I don’t know,” Fylwen whispered. Tilting her head to the side, she asked, “By any chance, did you…did you use one of those stones on yourself? The ones that regrow missing appendages.”
Zach nodded. “Actually, yeah. The doctors used a few of them on me after I got hurt. It was, uh, not long before coming here. But it should still be”—he released another groan and paused a moment to grind his teeth as he struggled to bear the unpleasantness—“it should still be a few days before my arm’s back. I could tell you what happened if you want.”
She shook her head. “No, we don’t have time, and the ‘how’ of it isn’t relevant.” She tapped her chin with her forefinger. “But think I know what’s happening to you.”
“You do?” he asked, watching as his arm had now grown to the end of his forearm and the beginning of his wrist. This really was like pins and needles times a thousand. He swore loudly as the dreadful feeling just kept on getting worse and worse. His only consolation was that his eye no longer bothered him and now simply felt itchy and somewhat cool.
Fylwen pointed to his wrist, where his fingers were now forming. He could actually see the various layers of skin wrapping around each of his digits as his hand was recreated in front of him. “Your constitution,” she said with a sudden, unexpected horror creeping into her voice. “It must be over fifty now.”
“Well, yeah. It’s sixty-five.”
Fylwen’s eyes twitched, and she bared her teeth. Zach had no idea why. “Did you say sixty-five?”
“Yeah, why?”
She curled her bottom lip. “And what is it normally, young man? When you’re not using this ‘phase’ ability, I mean.”
Zach groaned before answering. “It’s six—or no, wait. It’s seven now that I leveled up.”
“Well, that explains it.”
“Huh? What explains it?”
Even as she began to enlighten him, he could not help but focus on the way her nose curled in what was plainly disgust. “In both humankind as well as Elvish,” she began, “after 50 points into constitution, every additional point increases your rate of passive HP regeneration while not exerting yourself or participating in combat.”
“My what?” Zach asked, confused.
“We don’t have time for this,” she muttered. Even still, she continued her explanation. “As long as you aren’t critically wounded or still fighting, you begin to restore some of your HP every five seconds while at rest.”
“Wait, seriously?”
“Yes. In fact, with sixty-five points into constitution, I’d imagine you could have your stomach sliced open and be fine in half an hour as long as you weren’t bleeding out. It’s essentially your body healing itself in fast-forward. Most races have the ability to heal from wounds. It’s why we don’t die from paper cuts. With high enough constitution, you heal faster.”
Looking down at his reformed hand, Zach attempted to clench it into a fist. To his surprise, despite a bit of numbness, he had full control over his wrist. He could also feel each one of his fingers, too, though only slightly. All at once, he became overwhelmed with a feeling of pure joy. Even though, in the grand scheme of things, he hadn’t been without his right arm and hand for very long, it had still felt like an eternity. He’d missed it so much.
Zach clenched and unclenched it several more times as feeling began to return in a flood. And although it caused the uncomfortable, prickly feeling of pins and needles to increase, it had already improved to the point it barely disturbed him. Curiously, after making a fist for the fifth time, when he once more opened his hand, an orange light formed in his palm as a golden, burning ember shot out of it, launching several feet into the air before veering off to the right and once more falling back down, vanishing before ever hitting the ground. Then a second ember fired out of his palm. And then a third. Now, much like his left, his right, newly restored hand began to shoot off one ember after the next. These embers increased in speed and frequency until his right hand eventually matched the pace of his left.
It's really back, he thought. I can’t believe it.
Based on the tightness that entered Fylwen’s face, she clearly did not share in his cheer. With an equal combination of distress, impatience, and revulsion all mixed together in her expression, Fylwen once more gestured at the world around them and said, “Can you please do something? Truly, I cannot bear to lose any more of my kin. You must surely be well enough now, young man.”
“I am.”
“So, will you fight at last?”
Zach bent down, retrieved his sword off the grass, then returned to his feet. With a grin, he met Fylwen’s eyes and nodded at her. “You bet I will.”
Raising his left hand to his face, he tore off the bandages and gauze that had been covering his right eye, and now, once again, his heart swelled with joy as he realized he could see out of it—although it was blurry at the moment. He imagined that would get better over time. But even with the blurriness, viewing the world out of two eyes was still a great deal better than being limited to just one.
And so, with two arms, two eyes, and a burning eagerness to rip apart every gods-be-damned zombie around him, Zach at long last gripped his sword tightly in both hands and raised it with the blade pointed upwards. Without a doubt, the weapon felt much more secure now. Hell, he felt much more secure now. But it was more than that, too, because now that his body had fully adjusted to the vast boost in power provided by Phase Level 2, all of the negative sensations he’d been experiencing were replaced by positive ones. And to think: he’d actually thought his level of energy had increased with Phase Level 1. Hah! It was nothing compared to the bottomless depth of strength and power he felt pulsing through every vein in his body. Now, he was finally going to see what he could do: what he was capable of doing. And he had plenty of time to do it, too.
Unleashed Phase Duration
14:11 Remaining
Wave Slash
1:15
Boundless
0:10
Phase Blink
0:20
Phase Shield (READY) (25 seconds)
0:45
Phase Rescue
0:35 / 2:15 (if used with Boundless)
Phase Slash
1:10 / 6:10 (if used with ??)
It was fortunate that he’d pulled himself together when he had, because as it turned out, the perimeter Fluffles and Chumpkenwiffles had established was no longer holding. By killing so many of the creatures so fast, they had established something of a little “pocket” amid what was otherwise an unbroken sea of decaying, foul-smelling mobs. But now, as the zombies pressed forward with an even greater ferocity, they began to crash down on this “pocket” like water rushing in to fill a whirlpool that had lost its rotational energy.
Here we go, Zach thought. I hope I’m strong enough.
Ready for battle, Zach began making his way towards the nearest zombie—or at least he’d intended to do so. But before he could move an inch, the perimeter finally broke, and the pocket became flooded. It seemed that, rather than take the fight to the zombies, the zombies were intent on taking the fight to him. Oh well. Honestly, it was all the same to him. Either way, he planned on massacring a whole lot of them—and for reasons that were personal to him now. After what they’d put him through, it was more than time for a little payback. And would you look at that? It seemed he already had a willing volunteer to be his first victim, too. How nice.
Skating straight towards him, Zach spotted one of the filthy, torn-rag-wearing zombies, this one named “Fundead Roller-Ghast 3A.” For some reason, the creature was missing its left ear and a piece of its jaw, as well as a few-hundred points of HP. Though he couldn’t know for sure, Zach guessed it must’ve been from one of his two earlier uses of Wave Slash. If so, it looked like he wasn’t the only one interested in getting a little revenge. Unfortunately for the zombie, it would not succeed.
Rushing straight at him, it moaned angrily and delivered a quick, horizontal slice aimed at his throat. With his body more responsive than ever, Zach bent his knees and ducked. With a whoosh, the shortsword passed harmlessly above him. Then he shot back up and delivered two blazing-fast strikes of his own—and both of them connected. They really connected. And when they did, Zach was positive he did not imagine the sound of a disgruntled hiss that came from Fylwen, who was now watching him in action from where she stood a few feet behind him.
In truth, he hadn’t really known what to expect. With 67 points into strength, Zach hoped he would be strong enough to kill the creature with the efficiency of Fluffles or Chumpkenwiffles. To say he succeeded would be putting it mildly: so much so as to be absurd. This much, he did not fully appreciate until the moment just after his blade had torn into the creature’s flesh. When it did, both his old and new eye widened in shock as he saw the results for himself. His first strike, which came in from the left and whipped across to the right, managed to sever the entire top portion of the zombie’s head. Everything above the monster’s eyes was chopped off as though it were a carrot on a cutting board, dealing 5,185 damage.
HP
415/6000
Name
Fundead Roller-Ghast 1F
Level
18
Green slime began to leak out of the zombie’s skull, along with something darker in color that Zach hoped wasn’t brain matter. It poured down the mob’s face, over the sides of its rotten cheeks, and eventually it began to drip onto the grass. Aiming a bit lower, Zach decided to put the loathsome creature down with an even faster, second swing of his blade, and with this strike, he connected with the zombie’s neck. Now, he took the rest of its head off its shoulders. With its tongue eerily sticking out of its mouth, the zombie’s head flipped several times midair before landing quietly onto the grass. Then, after a several-second delay, the rest of the mob’s body tumbled over onto the side, landing next to its missing head.
+2,000xp
“Okay, then,” Zach said, grinning menacingly. “Who’s next?”
Almost immediately, a second zombie replaced the one he’d killed. Releasing his bottled-up frustrations, Zach stepped forward, bent his knees, and unleashed a powerful, two-handed slice aimed at its midsection. This time, not only did he manage to destroy the mob in a single strike, but his sword fully severed the zombie’s bottom half from its top half. Zach actually had to duck slightly as he struck with such force that it caused the zombie’s torso from the waist up to separate and fly above his head and over his shoulders while the bottom half simply fell forward. Both ends sprayed more green slime, much of it getting into his face and onto his gear. He no longer cared, though. At this point, he was already so covered in it he could barely smell it anymore.
+2000xp
Unable to learn their lesson, two more zombies immediately rushed at him, and both attacked at the exact same time. Zach jumped backwards, dodging the strikes from each. Seemingly undaunted, both of the roller-skating creatures pursued, but one found itself in front of the other. With an angry moan, the leading zombie tried to decapitate Zach the way Zach had decapitated its friend. But it was far, far too slow. Zach squatted down to his knees and ducked beneath the strike. But rather than stand back up, he instead spun his body around in a full circle while extending his arms and holding out his blade. The result was that he slashed through both of the creature’s legs just above the kneecap, amputating both of its limbs and dealing 5,322 damage. Freakishly, the two legs remained standing in an upright position even as the rest of the monster slid forward and landed with a plop onto its rotten belly.
“Ruuuuhhhh!" the one behind it cried.
Zach sprang back to his feet, raised his sword, and blocked a downward strike, as well as a two-strike combination from a third zombie that had somehow snuck up on him from somewhere off to his right. Striking out furiously, he ripped apart this newcomer, killing it in two quick hits. Then he ducked beneath yet another horizontal swing from the zombie in front of him.
Overflowing with a sense of power, Zach gripped his blade even more tightly, and with far more strength, he swung it ferociously at the son of a bitch’s throat, dealing 6,101 damage and beheading it in a single shot. Then, twirling his blade so that it pointed downwards, he bent his knees, gritted his teeth, and thrust his blade straight down towards the grass-covered ground, ending the life of the initial zombie that was attempting to crawl away on its belly. A few seconds later, both its body as well as its still-standing legs turned bright green in color and liquified into two separate puddles of ooze, joining the corpses of the other two that had already vanished.
+2000xp
+2000xp
+2000xp
LEVEL UP!
15(14)
Luck
+1(61)
Current XP
3283
XP Required for Level 16
35000
“What a trash level up,” Zach growled. “I’m going to take it out on you bastards!”
Given just how fast and easily he could dispatch these zombies, he couldn’t help but shift his perception of these decaying freaks. Where he previously saw them as a horrifying threat, he now came to think of them as a resource: something he could use to level up Gods-knew how many more times before all this was over. This was his chance, wasn’t it? A rush of enthusiasm shot through him. He could begin to catch up, couldn’t he? He could soar ahead. He just needed to kill. He needed to kill, kill and kill!
“I’m about to go a bit crazy,” Zach said, bending and unbending his knees.
Now that he saw what he was capable of, his head filled with an outpouring of determination, eagerness, and a hunger for more experience points. He didn’t care if Fylwen didn’t like what she saw. This was what she’d asked for, wasn’t it? Whatever her problem was, it sure wasn’t his. He was going to do his best to save as many lives as possible—and he was going to be rewarded handsomely for it in the form of XP. And if she didn’t like it, she could shove it for all he cared. He was done letting her mean-spirited looks get to him.
Okay, Zach thought to himself, I’m clearly strong enough now to make a real impact. But how do I save these Elves? What can I do to make the biggest difference?
Glancing first to his left and then to his right, he realized that, rather than push the wave of zombies outward and back towards the forest from where they’d emerged, it would be better to build an ever-increasing pocket to both of his sides, where Elves individually fought for their lives—isolated and surrounded by dozens upon dozens of the filthy creatures with their backs to the hill he’d fallen down. After all, that was the real issue here: their isolation. Each Elf was more or less trapped in their own tiny space, separated from their allies by a wall of zombies. If Zach focused his efforts on killing the ones that separated the Elves from one another, he could essentially “free” and “connect” them, creating an ever-bigger pocket. Then, they could stand together and cover each other’s flanks.
“Fluffles!” Zach called. “Chumpkenwiffles!” Both the cat and the dog turned their heads in his direction. Zach removed a hand from his blade and pointed to their right. “Focus on killing the zombies from that side until you reach one of the Elves. Then have that one push the perimeter outwards. Then keep going down along the base of the hill in that direction until you reach more of them. Got it?”
“Awoof!” Chumpkenwiffles barked in what Zach took to be an affirmation.
Fluffles roared. “No!”
“N-no?” Zach asked, confused.
Fluffles again roared. “Fluffles get to have three cans of tuna and two cans of chicken or no help Zach.”
“Okay, it’s a deal.”
“Zach promise?”
“Yes, dammit! Now go!” To Fylwen, he said, “Stay close to me, all right?”
“I will,” she replied bitterly. He didn’t like her tone, but he ignored it.
Zach watched as both of the Shadowfangs backed away from the encroaching horde and, together, began lashing out at the ones off to their right as they began cutting a path to the nearest isolated Elvish warrior on that side. At the same time, Zach retreated so that, he, too, had his back to the steep, unclimbable hill. Once more gripping his sword in both hands, he turned his body to the left and exploded forward, ready to kill everything he came across. Now, as he switched over from defense to offense, one thing became clear right away: the horror these mobs had put him through might as well have been a distant memory. Whatever else came before this point, it no longer mattered. These vicious, roller-skating anomalies were no longer a threat to him—no, not even slightly. They were just food for the experience bar he’d put towards the bottom of his vision.
Like a butcher, Zach began ripping them apart. Striking for 5,207, then 4,906, he hacked the nearest Fundead Roller-Ghast to pieces. Then, for 6,014, he cut the head off a second one. He didn’t stop there, however. No, he was only just getting started. With so many zombies in front, behind, and to the right of him, he whirled his blade around with near reckless abandon, indiscriminately striking so many zombies so fast that he did not even prioritize killing one before starting on another. Arms, legs, heads, and various other appendages were hacked off and tossed around as he ripped his blade through the air at them.
With an upward slice, he ended one of the zombies before it could even attempt an attack against him. Immediately after, he swung his sword back down in the opposite direction, vertically splitting the skull open of the one behind it and causing the left side of its face to detach from its right. Then, an instant later, without even pausing to look over his shoulder, he reversed his grip on his sword so that the bladed end pointed behind him. Even while keeping his body oriented forward, he bent his knees, twisted his hips, and stabbed his blade in a backwards thrust, ending the decaying sack of flesh trying to fill in the empty space behind him. Finally, he spun his body around in a semicircle and decapitated yet another of the creatures to his right.
Grunting, he realized he would need to be even faster: he would need to be even more aggressive. These things were so quick to fill any empty space that it wouldn’t be enough for him to simply slice his way towards the nearest Elvish warrior, whom he could just see struggling for dear life behind a row of about six zombies. He also needed to continue felling those behind and to his right when they got too close. For once, he was actually glad to have the hill occupying his left side, because it meant he only had to worry about three, rather than four directions.
“Help!” a voice cried. “I can’t hold much longer. Please!”
It was one of the green-cloaked Elvish warriors. “I’m coming!” Zach called to him. “Just hold on!” With that, he burned forward like a human inferno, and he began to butcher his prey.
*****
“Pack your things!” Olivir shouted at Kolona as he paced back and forth in front of his desk while nervously grabbing and tugging on locks of his silver-dyed hair. “We’re getting the fuck out of here! He’s a Gods-cursed demon. I’ve never seen anything like this!”
Across his grand hall, beyond a golden archway and inside of an opened, double-doored entryway that led into the master bedroom, Olivir could hear a sobbing Kolona ripping open drawers and stuffing what few of her possessions she could fit inside of a modestly sized travel pack.
“You’re coming with me!” he heard her shout from across the hall. “I’m not going to let you stay here, Oli. Tell me you’re coming with me!”
“Of course I am,” he lied to her.
In truth, he had no way of escaping this planet. Everyone other than the Elvish required some “buff” or another to travel through the ancient dungeons, which also served as convenient portals to other worlds. Kolona knew this very well, but she must have been in denial. Either way, he wouldn’t remind her of this fact until the final moment when he planned to kiss her goodbye. It wasn’t that he wanted to die—he was far too young of a vampire to part this world—but rather, it appeared to be a foregone conclusion at this point, and what sense was there in taking her with him?
Reinforcements were supposed to have arrived from the other vampire counts—but they hadn’t. And judging from the reports he’d received from his zombie spies, the Elvish were no longer attacking or pursuing any other domains other than his own. This meant that, in an act of unbelievable treachery, the other counts must have made some kind of deal with Fylwen: the life of Olivir in exchange for peace. That must have been the case: what other possible conclusion could he draw?
Butterflies filling his stomach, Olivir struggled to pry his attention from the glass dome, which showed the sword-wielding human boy absolutely eviscerating his minions of the dark. He’d somehow healed himself, too. And now, with both of his hands and feet shooting off smoldering embers, Olivir could only seethe in misery at the sight of him dismantling one zombie after the next with a ruthless efficiency. How had he achieved such a dramatic spike in power? The kid had nearly been killed just a few minutes ago. What in the name of the Gods was going on here?
“Hurry up, Kolona!” he shouted.
“You hurry,” she called back to him with a whimper.
“I am,” he again lied. He had a travel pack of his own nearby, but he only pretended to stuff it full of clothing. There was no point in him actually bothering to pack. As sure as night turns to day, that boy was going to end up saving those Gods-cursed Elves, and when he did, he would likely march right on over to this manor, whereupon he would end up beheading Olivir like one of his minions. What an utter catastrophe. Curse Fylwen. Curse the Elvish. Curse himself!
If only I still had Mantril, he thought sadly. He had loved that Mega-Eep. May Fylwen burn in an eternal fire for the way she’d disemboweled his beloved mount.
The writing was on the wall: the end was near. And unless something changed soon, everything was about to come crashing down around him. Once more, Olivir was forced to wonder just who in the hell this kid was and what in the name of the Gods Olivir had ever done to deserve his ire. Unfortunately, the way things were heading, he’d probably end up dying without ever finding out. And all because he’d once saved the life of an innocent girl: a girl he now loved more than anything in this world. Truly, no good deed went unpunished, did it?