CHAPTER THIRTY

  The children watched in dumbstruck awe as their youngest member weaved through forest and beast alike. Dashing back and forth, over and around. Leading the trio of Candy-Hide Boar’s by the nose, like it was a well choreographed dance number they’d practiced beforehand. A performance put on for their express benefit. He hadn’t even cared to use his blade for the last five minutes or so. The oversized weapon—at least when compared to his tiny frame—dangling uselessly by his side.

  Using nothing but careful footwork, deft evasions, and the occasional flourish, looking like a matador in the ring, he made dealing with the wild beasts—with their long candy cane tusks and large powerful legs—look like child’s play.

  In fact at some point, the ease with which he was dodging their attacks became so rote, that he decided to add an extra bit of complexity to the challenge. Apparently deciding all that spinning, leaping, and weaving was entirely uncalled for, he promptly grew less animated. Reined in his exaggerated motions. Until he’d narrowed down his movements to such a razor fine margin, that he was barely even shifting an inch from where he stood.

  Going so far as to draw a circle in the earth with his toe to denote just how little space he needed.

  Taking on one two, even all three reckless charges at a time, without stepping over that self imposed line. No ducking and diving. No wasteful evasions. Merely the careful and studied dissection of his opponents and their intentions. Somehow knowing what they were going to do, even before they seemed to know it themselves.

  He would shift his center of gravity ever so slightly one way, twist his torso a degree to the other, lean back a ways in anticipation of an unseen strike. And always, always, in response to his preternatural reflexes, a gleaming tusk would punch through the space he’d so recently occupied.

  Missing his flesh by a bare inch, or even a scant few centimeters.

  It was captivating. It was awe inspiring. Despite his barely moving an inch, it was as if the wild beasts couldn’t even touch him!

  The entire display went on for a good six or so minutes, and by the end it left many of those present utterly speechless, somewhat awed and even, in the case of one starstruck Donald Donaldson, hopelessly inspired.

  Alice, in the meanwhile, nearly had seven heart attacks in the last minute alone.

  +++

  Dust clouds were kicked into the air as hooves desperately scrabbled for purchase. The boar’s huffing and puffing as they rounded to face him once more. Richard, for his part, wasn’t even out of breath. Near flawless movement economy, coupled with his newly enhanced body, meaning he could probably maintain this pace for a while yet without tiring. Though he thought it should at least be mentioned that his meager combat prowess wasn’t why he was trouncing these beasts so utterly.

  Three sets of back hooves dug shallow furrows in the ground. Richard made out three ruby red flashes. This time, he even managed to catch the accompanying chime. It was subtle. The faintest resonance. Not enough to notice consciously unless you were actively paying very close attention, but unconsciously…?

  This time, all three Candy-Hide Boars charged at him simultaneously. Forming a quickly shrinking triangle, with him in the center of their crosshairs. All three rapidly converging with seemingly no intention of stopping. It’d taken a fair few tries to set up this particular arrangement. He was hoping that, after this, he might put an end to this little experiment and go over his findings.

  Richard stood without fear in the face of their charge, even as beasts which dwarfed him in size bore down on him. Hooves pounded on packed earth, making the ground vibrate under him. He saw the unthinking hatred in their eyes. Heads lowered. Tusks ready to gore and mangle. He crouched low and they ate up the distance. Until the points of their sugary weapons were mere inches away.

  They lunged. Richard leapt. Soaring six full feet into the air, he was given a wonderful view as the beasts who’d thought they had their victim dead to rights, found solace in one another’s company with a concussive…

  BANG!

  He almost felt sorry for the poor creatures. He could actually hear their brains go kersplatagainst the front of their skulls. Hopelessly entangled by their curved peppermint tusks, the pigs bucked, shrieked, and squealed. Venting their pain and frustration. Ultimately doing more damage to one another than he’d ever inflicted upon them. Eyes were gouged, flesh had been torn, and skulls had most definitely been punctured—a rainbow colored glitter goo seeping free in place of brain matter.

  Richard landed atop the writhing pile, setting off another round of bucking and thrashing. He leapt away immediately before he got caught beneath one of the wildly kicking hooves. Landing adroitly, he danced away from the pinwheeling appendages to survey his handy work.

  Already it looked like one of their number was dead. Died immediately upon contact, it seemed. Tusk straight through the gumdrop and into the brain, poor fella. The other two had gotten off relatively light, in comparison. Still, it didn’t appear as though they’d be detangling themselves any time soon.

  Not exactly what he’d call conclusive, but the gist of it was undeniable at this point. These weren’t real creatures. They were constructs.

  Oh sure, they were system built constructs, so devilishly complex as to be nearly indistinguishable from the real thing, but constructs all the same. Put simply, there was no soul behind their eyes. No true intelligence to be found in their actions. Of course, this wasn’t exactly unexpected. He’d heard about those that’d gone through the Easy Mode Tutorial experiencing much the same. Enemies operating like mindless automatons with a set number of combat scripts they could follow.

  Which, in the case of these beasts, was something like: turn toward the enemy, charge toward the enemy, repeat. Ad infinitum. Disappointing, but nothing world shattering. What had struck him as distinctly odd, and borderline indefensible, however, were the, for lack of a better term, blatant combat cues layered all over the place!

  Every attack heavily telegraphed by a prolonged snort or the stomp of hooves. Every charge immediately proceeded by a scarlet flash reflected in their gumdrop pupils! As if to say, “here I come, make ready!” And if that much weren’t already enough, there were the auditory cues layered atop allthat as well! A quiet ping that denoted each pigs location with a startling degree of accuracy, so that he didn’t even need to see to pinpoint exactly where they’d be and when.

  And while sure, he thought it was admirable the Baby Tutorial had seen fit to cater so heavilytoward the deaf, mute, and blind, he couldn’t help but wonder, at what cost? What kind of combat ready state a person who relied on all these nifty cues would be in when the tutorial finally ended, and all that went away.

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  In the real world, there were no flashing indicators to warn you a sentient monster was readying to bisect you from collarbone to hip. No helpful chimes to alert you that a midnight death stalker was just about to slip and ethereal garrote around your neck.

  And having seen so many hardened men and women die to even the slightest mistake, this level of blatant oversight, perversely masked as some sort of a “helpful aid,” infuriated him. This kind of handicap wasn’t just negligible, it was actively harmful to those that used it. He’d intended to help power-level Penelope using these weak monsters as practice, but now, he wasn’t sure if he’d be doing more harm than good. Already he was worried his own edge might be dulled by these “helpful” cues.

  First the mindless horde of Plague-Touched zomboids, and now this?

  He couldn’t afford to forget just how crafty and devious actual sentient creatures could be. If he did, the second he joined up with real human competitors, or worse yet, other sentient races, he’d be screwed.

  Richard shook himself from his frustrated spiraling, focusing on the things he could control. More specifically, the lives of the two entangled beasts in front of him. Stepping lightly, careful to avoid their kicking hooves, Richard thrust his knife once, twice. Finishing the two injured beasts off with a well aimed dagger through the heart.

  ?-|—(You have slain an enemy: Candy-Hide Boar [Lvl 17])—|-?

  Experience Gained. Participation Points Gained.

  [+170 Participation Points]

  ?-|—(You have slain an enemy: Candy-Hide Boar [Lvl 15])—|-?

  Experience Gained. Participation Points Gained.

  [+150 Participation Points]

  And, as had been the case with the last beast he’d killed, their remains persisted for a couple seconds more, as if the system were confirming that active combat had resolved, before the beasts began to dissipate into glowing white motes. A diffuse cloud which expanded, before shrinking back down to three distinct points on the ground. Whereupon they condensed with a blinding flash of light. After Richard was finished blinking the stars from his eyes, where the beasts had just been, three thumbnail sized crystals sat gleaming on the forest floor.

  Richard walked over and picked one up.

  ?—|-Lower F Grade Mana Crystal-|—?

  ?[Common]?

  Richard was once more floored by the generosity of the Baby Tutorial. In his Hard Mode tutorial, mana crystals like these had only dropped rarely from regular monsters, and only occasionally from elites, while it was usually a guaranteed drop from named monsters. Granted, they were often of a far higher quality to compensate, but still…

  Instead of pocketing it inside his onesie as he’d done the previous two, Richard quickly purchased a backpack for 40 participation points and promptly stuffed them inside. Now that he knew these were going to be dropping fairly regularly, he had a feeling he’d be collecting a fair number in short order. Better to be prepared. After a second’s hesitation, he bought five more of the child sized backpacks—for a total of 200 points.

  He then distributed them among the older children. Figuring, if they were going to insist on following him everywhere he went, they might as well make themselves useful. After making it clear to them that they weren’t to touch his things—not under any circumstance—using a few pantomimed gestures, and a slap on the wrist or two, he turned, and continued on his woodland trek. Anxious to see just how prevalent these telegraphic cues actually were.

  +++

  Richard swiftly stepped to the side, letting the mindless beast ram face first into the tree trunk.

  CRACK!

  The tree shook, green leaves raining down from above.

  Clearly dazed, the beast lurched backwards a few confident steps, then stumbled drunkenly, as if dizzy. Richard did not fail to capitalize on this. Even as three more of the beasts converged on him from all sides, he lunged. Dagger point parting candy fur, hide, and then flesh to puncture the beasts lungs within. He stabbed thrice more before he was forced to spin out of the way of an incoming charge.

  As he did so, he flipped his dagger so he held it in a reverse grip, then let the edge drag along the beast’s side. Digging into the sugar coated meat of its eyeball before tearing a ragged line all the way down its flank.

  The beast squealed, rammed into its dazed companion, whereupon they both went tumbling away. Made to roll through the sparse underbrush. He hopped backward. Shoulder blades pressed up against the tree once more, he noted how close the remaining beasts had become. They were barely a dozen paces apart by now. The two of them slightly staggered in their approach. One racing after, and a little to the side, of the other. Hooves kicked up grass and soil in their wake, as they ate up the intervening distance. Richard held his position. Waiting for the very last second to pull the same trick as before.

  Catching the light streaming in from above on his dagger, and directing it, he blinded the first beast momentarily, just as it’s tusks were nearing dangerously close to his chest. The beast flinched, squealed. Richard spun to the side.

  A step and a twist to the right and the beast was past. Catch, shine, flash. The second beast flinched. A step and a twist to the left, and both charging animals had completely missed. Barreled straight on by, and not even a scratch on him. He felt as much as heard the concussive thumps, as the one in front rammed skull first into unyielding bark—splintering it—and the one behind promptly slammed into the first ones rear.

  There was a crunch as the first ones spine was compressed to the breaking point. It immediately fell limp, incapacitated, while the second struggled to move. Its tusks still jammed in the first’s hairy rump.

  Ahhh. Ouch… That has to smart. My bad guys! Promise that was not my intention.

  Rushing forward to put the beasts out of their misery, and mortification, respectively, Richard stabbed once, then twice. Planting two swift strikes to the heart. He then jogged around the tree, found the two beasts from earlier that had still yet to detangle themselves. Well, one beast and a corpse—the first one he’d stabbed having drowned in its own rainbow colored blood some time ago. A well placed stab was enough to put an end to it’s struggling.

  Richard rose to his feet and took a step back, waiting for all the beast corpses in the clearing to disperse. Wiping his brow, he was surprised to find a bit of sweat there, though considering everything he’d been up to, perhaps he shouldn’t have been. Streaming mid-morning rays pierced through the sparse canopy, casting dancing shadows, even as it illuminated the forest floor. The torn up earth, stretch of loosely populated forest, and the dozen or so bodies that lay still beneath the shifting eaves.

  As all thirteen of the Candy-Hide Boars dissolved into tiny white motes, Richard couldn’t help but grin to himself in satisfaction. Even with the annoying handicaps, that’d been a fairly good workout. Treating the creatures with wary respect had helped—as if they were actual thinking beings, and not scripted automatons. Using guile and tactics, good positioning and actual spacial awareness—not that fake sonar facsimile the tutorial was insistent on shoving down his throat—he’d gained a lot in terms of renewed confidence in himself and his abilities.

  Fingers crossed I won’t actually end up losing my edge by the time I reach Devil’s Arcadia.

  He also thought he’d gained in more tangible ways as well—by pushing himself as hard as he had—though he wouldn’t know for sure until the next day.

  As it was, Richard merely stood there, let the occasional breeze cool his sweat damp back, and focused on his breathing—letting his heartbeat calm. The sounds of children’s voices easily cut through the rustle of leaves and creaking of branches. Tinkling laughter and repetitive arguments washing over him, as the kids, well versed in their role as baggage train by this point, hurried up to gather as many mana crystals as they could fit inside their bags. He wasn’t sure, but, going purely by their fierce expressions, he thought they’d made a contest of it.

  He let them have their fun.

  Whatever gets them to work faster is fine by me.

  After they were finished, he’d probably call for a break. They’d eat a late breakfast, and then…? Well, then the real fun would begin.

  Because, during the fight, a certain wide ranging sense of his had picked up on something interesting somewhere to the east. Going by the stark increase in boar sightings they’d seen—stumbling onto increasingly numerous patrols as they ventured further and further afield—he guessed there had to be a monster den nearby. And while monster dens were fairly common, and didn’t necessarily guarantee an elite, a certain little birdie was telling him this would be one of those exceptions.

  +-|—[Mighty Monster Slayer (I)]—|-+

  (Passive effect: you have a general sense for the location of elite monsters, both named and regular.)

  And so it was decided. First, they would eat. Then, he would hunt.