The Pinnacle Warrior

Finding the other harpies was not a difficult task. The closest thing to a challenge that the party experienced was the matriarch of the flock, which was level 45 and was able to survive an entire three attacks before being reduced to a corpse.

“Getting this next level is going to be so boring,” Benedict grumbled. “We’re all already so much stronger than these monsters that it’s hardly worth it. How are we going to get to Steel? From slaughtering monsters that hardly deserve the name?”

“While you’re right about the pace slowing,” Skandr replied, “I think we should probably just have a different approach to these next few levels.”

“Explain further,” Astrid asked with narrowed eyes. After conferring among themselves, they’d already decided to collect every one of the harpy bodies to bring back to Cresche as they made their report. After all, they didn’t know if leaving the bodies to decompose into mana in the forest would be harmful, and would hate to have to return to pick them up as further proof of their success.

“Don’t hate me for suggesting it,” Skandr held up his hands as he laughed, “but I think we should get to level 44 or 45 while taking it easy. Not pushing super hard, taking a little bit of extra time, but really practicing with each of our Skills against monsters that we don’t struggle against. Let Muti understand how to use mana, for you to experiment with Gravity Surge in active combat. That’ll let Felix understand how his new Skill will interact with being a frontliner, and Benedict can try to see if he can understand what Isana was trying to teach him. 

“Then, after we’ve spent some weeks like that, maybe even a couple months, we start pushing hard, and even fight against some of the weaker Steel tears in Dungeons that the Verdant Walkers let us in. Going off the fact that they’ve let us come in here not for a measure of time but until a certain level, we don’t have a deadline that we need to keep ourselves under. If we take six months or ten years to get to level 71, I would imagine they don’t care either way.”

A part of Astrid revolted against the idea of deliberately slowing down after they had spent so long just practicing without getting any real experience, but she saw the wisdom in what he suggested. She knew that, of the five members of the Wanderers party, she had been delving for the least amount of time by about six months compared to the others. That difference came in her haste to go from level 1 to 6. Regardless, she had taken about two years to get to the point of evolving to Iron, and that was with pushing herself very hard from levels 1 to 6 and from 15 to 20. If she had progressed as fast as a fast paced, but not breakneck delver, then she could have expected to have spent three years in Bronze. Plenty of other delver’s did that, and there was no shame in that.

Now, she’d been in Iron for all of twelve weeks and was wanting to press on in the next six to evolve to Steel? The idea of spending only five months in a single tier, regardless of what tier it was, was absurd. In terms of proving themselves to the Great One, the Wanderers had shown how hard they would push themselves, the strength they would display in times of adversity, and plenty to qualify for good Class evolutions.

But they only had three months of experience with being Iron tier. Astrid had seen and been shown that she still acted like a Bronze tier by the Golden Fist. She didn’t think about the massive changes that had happened in her body since evolving, and it limited her. She was only now beginning to understand the flexibility of her Skills and the only way to get better with that was to further practice with them. There was no better place to do that than against enemies that were among her tier, would provide good experience, yet wouldn’t be her trying out new things in a life-threatening situation.

The more she thought about it, the more she agreed with Skandr’s suggestion, and she let out a long, slow breath.

“The Wizard speaks wisdom,” Muti was the first to speak. “Fortunately, he does what his Class is meant to be good at.”

“Having watched all of your experimentation,” Benedict spoke up and added, “I’ve realized that there’s more flexibility inherent in Hasty Rebuke and Song of Vindication. I can adjust if the Skills are more inclined towards slowing the enemy or speeding us up, in the case of Hasty Rebuke, or damaging the enemy or healing us, in the case of Song of Vindication.“

“We all have much to learn,” Felix said. “I have always been taught that the foundation of a thing allows it to stand tall and strong, and I can see where I need to strengthen my own foundation.”

“Well, seems like there’s no real disagreements to be had,” Astrid sighed, wishing that somebody had had an idea that would incentivize her to continue gaining levels faster. “I suppose we’ll make sure to hold ourselves back for a while yet.“

She held back other exclamations of displeasure as she walked forward, and instead just focused on the good. After all, further familiarity with her Skills would allow her to actually use them better in combat. The thought of using Gravity Surge to hold herself in the air to fight against flying enemies that were forced to come towards her as well, or of jumping into the air to use a hyper condensed Gravity Surge to make her hammer fall with the power of 16 times her body weight behind strike wasn’t too far out of reach.

It was just… more practicing. Hadn’t she had enough?

“I hate that this seems to be the right decision,” Benedict said as they all walked towards where they had last seen Cresche. “I wanted to gain levels as fast as possible to just rub it in the face of the nobles who’re driving us out of our home. I mean, we can’t even go to our houses or live in our home country because some bastard decided that we’re enemies of the nobility because we want to stay free. Doesn’t that just piss you right off?”

“Regardless of the state of my urine,” Muti answered with a dry tone, “Yes, I can understand why being thrust from your home and treated as a monster might be a source of frustration.”

Benedict narrowed his eyes at her as he pointed at her with his index finger before he spoke with a grin, “I have a sneaking suspicion you’re right. You know better than us.”

“Yes, I do,” Muti answered simply. “Now, I am looking forward to training with you with your weapon. After all, Dread Master always requires further practice in teaching and not just sharing my Skills. I have much to learn about sharing my Skills with you all.”

Benedict’s face soured further at that, but he didn’t disagree with what she said. Instead, he nodded once and the party continued walking. Their path to their contact was simple enough, and it didn’t take long before the party was back before the creaking Grove Warden where they swayed in the wind. Astrid pulled the first harpy corpse from her spatial pouch as Cresche’s “finger” stretched towards her.

You didn’t need to bring the bodies, but it is appreciated.

“Does that mean that in the future, it would be better for us to bring the bodies?” Astrid asked. “Because if it is, we might as well just do what’s better for you and for us.”

As she said it, she wished she could begin to understand the body language of a tree. While they were talking, a Verdant Walker was simple enough to understand with their tone of voice, but they didn’t have a face, shoulders, or body language to understand in any conventional manner. In many ways, speaking with a Verdant Walker was the exact opposite of speaking with a Barbarian, where body language was more important than any of the words that they said.

There is no need to bring the corpses, Cresche repeated. If they are left where they lay, the forest will deal with them, if you bring them to one of the Verdant Walkers, we will take them to where the forest will most easily integrate the mana into the life around it.

“Forgive me,” Astrid said, “but I don’t really consider that to be much of an answer. Is it genuinely that there is no difference between if we bring it or not or is this some sort of test?”

There is no test. Only a choice to be made. When next you kill a monster at one of the Verdant Walker’s behest, do with the body whatsoever you will.

Astrid decided against continuing to search for an answer that evidently wasn’t going to be given to her. Instead, she began speaking more casually with the acquaintance that was giving her information.

“What have you been doing since the Trials ended?” She asked.

My Grove and I took several weeks to allow our roots to heal, though we did travel somewhat in that time to get here. It will take us several years to fully recover from our time in the Trials, and we all look forward towards spending that time as still as we can manage.

“Years to recover?” Benedict gasped. “I didn’t see that you took any particular injuries during the Trials. Did something happen after we passed you? I can probably heal you with my Skills, at least hurry that recovery along.”

No, nothing so worrisome as that, they answered. It is only that my people are not particularly well suited to walking, especially for long periods of time. To compound this, to walk as a Grove is much more taxing on the roots than it would be otherwise, and while we all lend our strength and our roots to the one who supports us, it is inevitable that remaining joined together as a Grove for an extended period of time while also journeying more quickly than our bodies are intended to be able to do is damaging. You may attempt your healing on us, but I suspect that time will be our greatest physician.

“But won’t your recovery be faster than that? I mean,” Astrid clarified, “with how mana dense your bodies are, surely it doesn’t take months or years to recover from wear and tear.”

Perhaps part of the delayed recovery time, Cresche answered with a hint of humor in their voice, is due to our own desire to remain stationary for an extended period of time. After all, we don’t like to have to journey if we do not have to. Now, we can finally rest and return to our roots

“So the truth comes out,” Astrid laughed at the pun as much as the admission of guilt as she patted the roots that gently rested on her left hand. “A thought just occurred to me, how old are you?”

I do not know. I attained consciousness some… 280 seasons ago? Which would be 70 years by your reckoning. That number may be imprecise, though, as there is little reason for me to keep note of the measures of time used by the many other races and I have never felt there to be much importance with the date of my own awakening.

Astrid‘s eyebrows raised high as she considered the Verdant Walker’s words. In reality, it didn’t matter how long they’d lived so far, but this just shone a light on how little she understood about the other peoples of the world. While she was thinking that, Skandr was already asking questions. 

“What do you mean by ‘attained consciousness’?”

A Verdant Walker is not born as you are. We are cultivated from trees, and slowly grow into a creature that can walk and communicate.

“And that’s why you don’t want people chopping trees down all over in the Sanctuary, huh?” Astrid jumped back into the conversation.

Indeed, that is part of it.

The conversation continued, jumping from one subject to the next as Cresche appeared to be more than willing to continue to field their questions without going anywhere. Several minutes passed, and finally, Muti was the first to interrupt the conversation, which had drifted to how to tell if a tree was close to becoming a Walker.

“Where is the Dungeon?”

There are several branches within several dozen kilometers of here, Cresche answered, seemingly undisturbed by the radical and impolite change of subject. The one which will be the closest in difficulty to what you would have been experiencing before you exited the Trials would be located about twenty kilometers away. It is occupied by grasping vines and bloodsucking worms. I believe they start at level 42, and the Branch descends 13 floors overall, with the Boss being a level 50 bloodthirsty treant.

As unpleasant as that sounded, that would certainly be a good location for grinding out experience at some point, but that wasn’t the party’s goal at the moment, and Astrid said as much: “We’re looking to acclimatize ourselves to our new Skills, now that we have some time to develop ourselves. Is there another branch just a bit simpler than that, one where we won’t be in as much danger as we go through our steps of practice?”

Yes, of course. The other two branches are first, the one from which the harpies escaped. Carrion harpies and swamp nagas fill the branch, beginning at level 35 and descending for nine floors, culminating in a Boss fight against a level 43 medusa. The other, the furthest, is occupied by armored pangolins and hercules beetles. I believe those begin at level 29 and that Branch descends for 11 floors to a mating pair of beetles that are level 39. Which is of most interest to you?”

“The harpies and nagas,” Astrid answered without consulting with her party. “We all already are nearly an entire watershed above those same harpies, against the beetles, we’d have no real challenge, and might as well be practicing in the forest.”

Very well. Then, are you ready to receive the directions?

As always, Cresche spoke with a kindly tone, but Astrid felt a shiver run down her spine at the thought of what she’d previously experienced and stepped back while gesturing for Muti to step forward. The Barbarian shot a glance at Astrid as she stepped forward and accepted the mental transmission from the friendly Verdant Walker. As soon as it was finished, the Grove Warden spoke to Astrid and Muti alike.

You people are very interesting, Cresche mused to themself. There is so much communicated with your faces and eyes that does not make sense to me. Faces in general are strange, are they not?

Astrid blinked a couple times before she cocked her head to the side and shrugged. “I’m used to faces. I don’t think there’s anything weird about them.”

And your minds are so… rigid and disconnected, Cresche continued musing. They do not connect with others without difficulty. It must be so lonely to be so separated from your surroundings.

If Astrid had thought she was surprised by what the Verdant Walker said about faces, she was completely speechless at what then followed. “What do you mean by that? I’m not really lonely, I talk to people when I want to. Otherwise, I kind of like being alone and not hearing everything else.”

Horrifying.

Cresche didn’t dwell on that train of thought any further, but Astrid’s point of view remained entirely shaken. The idea of always having something in her head, something that could hear and talk to her, no matter what she wanted, was, at best, uncomfortable. Before she could lose herself in those thoughts, though, Muti turned and led the party towards the Dungeon branch where they would be delving next. Astrid laughed and said goodbye to the Warden as they all made their way towards their next goal.

***

Only on the fourth floor of the branch did the party finally find a good balance between monsters that wouldn’t be killed by every casual attack they made, and being overwhelmed by so many of the mana-created beasts that they couldn’t afford to actually do the experiments that they’d come to do. Here, flocks of harpies anywhere from five to ten strong  were common and the nagas slipped through the swampy waters frequently, but not incessantly.

“You’ve got to take more time to allow the spell to really start,” Skandr corrected Muti, who growled and slowed her channeling of her latest tattoo. Per Savraba’s suggestion, she focused more on magically amplifying what she could physically do instead of trying to create entire magical constructs or spells like Skandr.

This latest attempt was especially under Skandr’s guidance because Muti was trying to amplify her attacks with frost. Though he didn’t cast spells exactly like what she was trying to do, he’d drilled down on creating an enchantment that could and was quite similar in essence to what the Barbarian was attempting. Regardless of how many successes she encountered, and how hard she worked, it was very apparent that she wasn’t going to be a spellcaster of any kind any time soon. On top of that, she didn’t want to be, but the gradual realization that she was coming to of how to create these tattoos and make them function in battle served to show ways that she could become more deadly in battle without having to just hit something harder. After all, she’d encountered a Boss, the dragon turtle, that couldn’t be overcome with mere brute force, and she refused to be made helpless.

Astrid continued to practice with her sling a little, but finally, it was time for her first experiments in Gravity Surge. Another flock of harpies approached, and she allowed a smile to crack her face as she started forming the Skill into a different shape.