The Turning: System Update: A Post-Apocalyptic LitRPG, page 17
Seizing the opportunity, I lunged forward with Dragon Claw equipped on one hand. Even though he was a lower level than me, the environment and its rules gave him an advantage. I just needed to hurt him a little–push him where I wanted him. Unfortunately, he evaded my attack and rolled across the metal grating. There was another gout of steam, and my heart sank as I realized he’d picked up his sword. I turned around, trying to find his position, but he jumped out of the steam and kicked me in the side. A small flicker of pain flared, but it didn’t do much damage to my HP, and the fresh burst of adrenaline helped sharpen my senses.
This time, when he leapt out of the steam, I was ready. I hit him with a blast of Absolute Zero, freezing him momentarily in a lunging position, his blade held high. I brought down my sword and shattered his blade. As he broke through Absolute Zero, he staggered to his feet and stumbled backward a bit. His eyes were wide with shock, and I could see he realized he’d been bested. We were only a few feet away from the boiler now, and I was drenched with sweat.
“Kneel,” I said, shoving my boot into his chest.
This time, he did, though his expression and body language told me he was fighting it.
“You can’t win,” he said through gritted teeth. “I can only be killed—”
“You can be killed,” I said, grabbing him by the back of the shirt and hauling him up. The psychic command I’d given him made him fairly complacent, though he struggled against my grasp. “And you won’t be coming back for the sequel.”
I threw him into the boiler, and he screamed. The smell of burning hair and flesh filled the air as he writhed, half in and half out of the big metal contraption. I kicked my boot into the back of his thighs, pushing him in further. Flames licked my boot, and I finally managed to get him in there and slam the door shut. His screams crescendoed until they either stopped, or were so high-pitched I could no longer hear them.
Congratulations! You have leveled up!
I wiped the sweat from my head as the room shifted around me. Suddenly, we found ourselves in a nondescript classroom, full of nothing but dust, overturned toddler-sized chairs, and one very lonely, normal looking corpse. From down the hall, I heard running, and Millie poked her head in the room.
“I… I heard screams… but not any of ours and Dahlia is scared and well…,” she said, her eyes wide as she cracked her gum to punctuate the sentence. “Is it over?”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “It’s over.”
Chapter 17
In the end, we looted nothing from Bryan the Psychopath. He hardly had anything worth taking, especially since I shattered his blade, and the few items he had pulsed with the same dark energy as his magic. Selena had seemed wary of anything he had available, and I trusted the psychic’s opinion.
“Your wings,” she said as we stood in the classroom. “Level them. I have a feeling you’ll need them.”
And so I did.
While everyone else took a quick snack break and checked the daycare for anything we could use, I spent my latest points.
Like Selena suggested, I funneled both general skill points and my Dragon Morphing point into Dragon Wings, bringing them to level 8. In the Dragon Heart skill tree, I used my point for Absolute Zero, and in Dragon Majesty I threw a point into Chain the Lesser Being. My run in with the psychopath had shown that dominating someone had its uses, and I didn’t want anyone fighting against my command. Sure, I’d used Kneel Before Me, but I would have saved myself a lot of sweat and effort if I could have commanded the bastard to throw himself into the fire.
Since we’d already cleared the way, the drive back to the Troyer Trailer development was uneventful. I think that was fine by everyone. Most of the party had had enough blood and guts for the day, especially Gage, Ruth, and Millie, who clearly hadn’t seen much nitty-gritty combat before. Sure, they’d seen some standard stuff and looted plenty, but I think a demonic daycare and staged corpses were on a whole ‘nother level for them.
Nubbins was waiting for us in the middle of the road like a golden retriever dutifully waiting for his master to come home. I couldn’t help but grin as he bobbed his head and waved his monstrous tail happily. Further down the lane, Chuck and Eli were standing there with their hands on their hips. Both of them looked relieved to see us, and hopeful we’d succeeded.
I parked the RV and jumped out, and Chuck ran over with his arms thrown wide.
“Well, shit the bed!” he cackled. “Boy, you are a sight for sore eyes.” He grabbed my hand and pumped it up and down.
Eli, however, was more reserved with just a curt head nod and a kind smile. “How did everything go, August?”
“It went well, sir,” I said, then nodded towards the RV where the rest of the party was filing out. “The threat is gone, and your players leveled up while we were gone. You guys should be in good shape for now.”
“Then you have more than repaid our hospitality,” Eli said, tilting his wide-brimmed hat towards me. As he did, text appeared.
Congratulations! You have completed the quest: No Sympathy for the Devil. You have solidified your alliance with the Troyer Trailer community! You have gained an additional fast travel point.
Eli spoke now so that everyone could hear as the party gathered behind me. “You all have done so well! We’ve gathered up some food boxes for you all. I know time is of the essence, so Marta has packed them all and baked you each a fresh mini pie for the journey.”
“Yes!” Wallace and Simon fist-bumped behind me.
“Thank you,” Annabelle said sweetly, then looked at me. “I’ll take Selena to go get the food. You guys finish up here.”
“Wallace, Simon, stop celebrating about pie and fill up the tank, yeah?” I said, half-turning to look over my shoulder at them. “Eli’s right. We gotta move.”
“And we gotta get a shower,” Millie said, linking her arm through Ruth’s and Gage’s. “It was nice knowin’ ya, but I had enough adventure for one day… one year, maybe.”
“Thank you,” I said to the trio, and they said goodbye and marched off. Curiously, Dale stayed behind and stood next to Eli and me, shuffling his feet in the dirt a bit. It was clear he wanted to say something.
“Alright, Dale,” I said, “What’s on your mind?”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to come along with y'all,” Dale said. “You saw the other three. The boy will stay, so will Ruth, and I don’t think Millie’s going to be on Rumspringa forever, no matter how much she acts like she ain’t never wearin’ a bonnet again.”
Eli looked over the larger man, then scratched at his beard. “We could use you here, but it sounds like your mind’s been made up. Far be it from me to command any man. August, what do you think?”
“We’d be happy to have you along,” I said, and I wasn’t just being polite. The barbarian was definitely a useful addition to our party. Dale’s face split into a wide, beaming grin. He was clearly grateful for the chance.
“And before you leave, I’d like to bestow an additional gift,” Eli said. “Who among you will help with the farming? You said you wanted to know more about agriculture?”
“I’d be happy to know more?” I offered.
Eli seemed to consider. “I do not believe that will work, August. You already have your… d-dragonmancy.” He said the word slowly, as if it were totally foreign to him. Which, I guess it sort of was.
“I can pass anything on to our head advisor as well?” I suggested. “If your gift is about agriculture, there are more folks back home in D.C. who’d put it to good use.”
Eli sighed. “I’m afraid it must be given now.”
I chewed my cheek and thought. The twins weren’t any good since they weren’t technically part of our community. Wallace and Dahlia were spoken for, Annabelle had her own hopes, and the pets weren’t able to legitimately have a subclass.
I sighed. “I suppose, I suppose once this is all over I could fast travel Quentin here?”
“I got a better idea,” Dale said gruffly as he stepped forward. We all looked up at the big man as he continued. “I’m tired of fightin’ and runnin’ all over hell’s half acre. Now, I’m good in a battle, and I know it, but I’d like to hang up my chairs mosta the time if you get my drift. I think I’d be happy to help August grow his crops.”
I eyed the barbarian, mulling it over. On one hand, we needed a farmer, but on the other the barbarian was good for combat. “You can subclass farmer as a barbarian? I can’t guarantee I won’t ask you to be part of a party again, but I could use the agricultural expertise. I’d bet you’d be good at gettin’ people moving, too. No one would want to disobey you.”
“Bet I could pull a plow all on my own too,” he grinned with a wink. “Two birds and all that.”
I stuck out my hand. “If you’ll fight when I ask, I’ll guarantee you spend most of your life farming. Consider yourself semi-retired.”
Eli nodded, then stepped forward with his hands outstretched. Dale bent down enough that Eli could lay his hands on his mulleted head. A warm golden glow began to flow from Eli’s hands to Dale’s head, and for a moment it grew bright enough to engulf the men. As quickly as it started, it passed. Dale went glassy eyed for a moment as he pulled up his menu and checked out his new skills. He read aloud as he did, for both my benefit and Eli’s.
“Harvest Mastery–This skill enables the Farmer to excel at harvesting crops and gathering resources from the land. It increases the yield of harvested crops, improves the quality of gathered materials, and reduces the time required for farming activities. The Farmer can also grow rare and valuable plants, herbs, or even magical crops, providing essential resources for their party or trade,” he said, then continued.
“Nature's Blessing allows the Farmer to channel the power of nature and tap into its healing properties. The Farmer can restore health and mana to their allies, cleanse them of debuffs, and provide buffs that enhance their strength and resilience. In dire situations, the Farmer might even summon natural forces, such as thorny vines to ensnare enemies or summoning a brief rainstorm to replenish their team's energy. This control of the elements also aids in the growing and tending of numerous crops.”
“Whoa,” I said, impressed.
“Third,” Dale explained. “Fertile Soil Manipulation grants the Farmer the ability to manipulate the fertility of the land. By channeling their agricultural knowledge and connection with the earth, they can enrich the soil to enhance crop growth and yield. This skill might allow the Farmer to transform barren or depleted land into lush and fertile farmland, making it suitable for planting various crops and reaping bountiful harvests.” Dale smiled and looked me in the eye. “Think I’ll earn my keep?”
I let out a low whistle. “Buddy, you might be the most important man I have.” I looked at Eli. “How did you do that?”
Eli smiled. “My one gift is teaching, or training perhaps. I am allowed to bestow it on three players. He’s only starting at a level 1 each on his skills, but my training unlocks them.”
I thought of Laura Lee’s own training ability. I made a mental note to explore her own capabilities more when we got back. She was weight training many of the community, but she was focused on leveling up others, not herself. In the long run, I wondered what sort of benefit we might reap if we focused on leveling up her own teaching ability.
Once we were finished, and once I’d thanked Eli another half a dozen times, it was finally time to leave. Though they’d thrown us a hell of a welcoming party, now we were leaving without much fanfare, though Marta’s cooking went a long way.
I shook Chuck’s hand one more time, and he beamed, showing off his picket fence teeth.
“Next time you come ‘round we’ll throw a bigger shindig,” he said warmly.
“Maybe we’ll host next time,” I laughed. “Either way, you’ll see us soon. We’ve just got a few more things to do before we have any more time for dancing.”
Annabelle gave Chuck a hug, then winked at me. “You better hurry up with these missions, August. I always have time for dancing.”
Chuck shook his head. “She’s a pistol, Mister President. Seems fittin’ for a first lady.”
“Don’t encourage her,” I grinned.
And so, with a few more back claps and a few more waves, we loaded into Clint’s RV and headed back out into the unknown. At least this time we had baked goods.
And a farmer barbarian with an affinity for metal chairs.
Man, what the hell was going to happen next?
Chapter 18
This time, we approached Pittsburgh from another direction, going more towards the heart of the city rather than the outlying neighborhoods. To do so, we had to go through the Ft. Pitt tunnel, something Wallace was stalwartly against.
“Uh uh, no,” he said, shaking his head. “No. Nope.”
“It’ll be fine,” I assured him. “Nubbins can go ahead and check for downed cars. If we don’t go through, we add a ton of travel time and we’ve already taken long enough. I just want to drive through the area, see what we can see, loot a handful of buildings that look promising, or scope it out for a second trip. We can be in Cleveland by dawn tomorrow.”
“You ever hold your breath through the mountain as a kid?” Selena said grimly, peering into the darkness.
“I’ve held my breath past a graveyard,” Annabelle said. “But somehow this feels creepier.”
“Well, I’ve seen The Walking Dead and read The Stand,” Wallace said glumly. “And I can tell you all that tunnels are not your friend.”
“We’re going to have to learn to get along,” I replied resolutely, my eyes fixed ahead into the tunnel’s inky black eye.
Behind me, both Annabelle and Selena sucked in sharp breaths, like two superstitious little kids. They were really going to try to hold their breath the whole time. I decided what the hell and sucked in my own lungful, then drove forward into the unknown.
Inside the tunnel, darkness ruled, and my only source of light was the RV's headlights, casting faint beams on the walls and floor. The silence felt heavy, both inside the RV and outside, as if we were all afraid to make a noise in the oppressive darkness. It felt like a tomb, like we were a thousand feet underground.
Ahead of us, I caught the motion of Nubbins’ tail swishing back and forth as he trundled ahead. Abandoned cars littered the side of the road or throughout the lanes, creating an obstacle course we could just barely traverse. The vehicles were trashed and lifeless. Some were partially covered in dust and debris, while others bore the scars of accidents, like twisted metal frames, flat tires, or shattered windshields. It was curious that there was no sign of survivors or even dead bodies around. There were only the battered remains of the cars.
Ahead, I heard the screech of metal and then a groan as something was wrenched and torn free from one of the cars. This was followed by a loud, echoing clang as another bit of metal dropped onto the ground. The loud noise made my heart skip a beat, but in reality I knew Nubbins had probably just ripped a car door off of a sedan for a nice little snack.
However, my attention was abruptly pulled away from the cars when I saw a faint glimmer in the distance. As we approached, the glimmer transformed into two eerie crimson eyes. The orbs must have been the size of basketballs, but I couldn't fully see what the hell they were attached to. I braked abruptly, but Nubbins kept walking forward, almost like he was drawn to them.
“August,” Annabelle said, the word squeezing out of her strangely as all the breath rushed from her lungs. “What is that?”
“Oh no,” Wallace moaned. “I knew this was a bad idea.”
Just as Nubbins was only a few yards away, a giant rat emerged from the shadows, and my breath caught in my throat at the sight of it.
“NUBBINS!” Dahlia yelled.
Nubbins, now, I commanded in my head. Come back now.
The creature was horrifying. Its fur was filthy and matted, tinged with a sickly yellow hue from the RV’s headlights. Its head was level with the RV’s hood, and the hump of its back meant it almost reached the top of the vehicle, though it was shorter than Nubbins. It made up for in length, though. Jagged scars crisscrossed its body, and its long, hairless tail thumped beside it eagerly. The rat's menacing gaze was fixed on my approaching vehicle, not our tarasque thankfully, and as it moved, I could hear the soft scrape of its claws against the cold stone floor. The way it looked at me, I realized immediately where all the bodies had gone.
It knew what its food source was.
It opened its mouth and showed off its rows of razor-sharp teeth as it roared. Saliva dribbled from its jaws onto the floor, and its claws scrambled eagerly on the stone as it came towards us.
But it didn’t get very far.
Just as the huge, mutant rat lowered its head to pounce on the RV, Nubbins t-boned the damn thing and clamped his jaws down on its filthy, matted neck. The rat slapped at Nubbins with his disgusting, naked tail, but it thudded uselessly against the tarasque’s shell. Its claws scrabbled, leaving deep gouges in the floor as Nubbins began to shake it like a dog shaking a toy.
“Get him, boy!” I hollered, sending any sort of rallying support I could through our psychic bind.
The rat squeaked and roared, the sound so awful some of us clapped our hands over our ears. The ground shook as Nubbins finally tossed the mutant away. It hit the other side of the tunnel, raining dust and small stones down on us.
“Uh, maybe leave the tunnel intact!” Wallace yelled.
The rat lunged again, shockingly fast, though despite Nubbin’s size and build, he was also surprisingly agile. This time, Nubbins roared as the rat’s claws dug into his shell. One clawed paw hung there uselessly, not doing much damage, but the other managed to gouge three red lines in Nubbins’ softer neck area. More pissed than hurt, Nubbins threw off the rat once more and smacked it with a bone-shattering tail whip. The rat hit the wall again, but this time, when it tried to weakly stand once more, Nubbins lunged and stomped on it. He bent his head down and ripped at the rodent’s neck, sending a gout of red splattering across the walls. It looked shiny and blackish in the low light.
