N. Francis
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Chapter 166: The meaning of strength
🕑 Added 2025-10-08 17:32:09 +0000 UTCYou know, in hindsight, that might have been a bit overly dramatic.
It was a thought that came to Rory unbidden as he raced through the tunnels of the third floor, shaking his head as he did.
Nah. I mean, it was either make my escape or deal with being stuck in an awkward situation. It’s probably fine.
Nodding to himself, Rory suddenly slammed his foot down hard, turning with a hard pivot as a claw lashed out at his face, his eyes rolling.
Here we go again.
Blight Keeper
Level: 73
Meh, still barely scraping mid-tier at best.
Drawing his hand back in the same motion of his pivot, a rebounding arc of gold and blue lightning appeared like a rubber band pulled taut. Not even bothering to project a bow or even utilize a real bow fully, Rory released the blast of heavenly lightning.
The blast of heavenly energies shot forward, ripping through the monster with ease as it dropped dead an instant later.
“Blight Keeper. More like Tofu Keeper, ehh?”
Glancing around for a moment, Rory sighed.
Yeah, probably best that no one was around to hear that one. Zoey would beat me for having the gall to say such a stupid line with a straight face.
Quality of his one-liners aside, it didn’t change that Rory wasn’t wrong about the state of the monsters he encountered.
Seriously. They’re all so damn flimsy.
The difference between a level seventy-three monster at the floating volcanic isles, versus here, was like night and day.
However, it just confirms my thoughts: not all levels are equal. I’ve known that’s true for people, I’ve known that’s true for different types of monsters, now it’s evident that it’s even true for the level itself.
There was still much Rory didn’t understand about the nature of the world, and the revelation on the quality of a ‘level’ was essentially cutting-edge information.
I wonder if maybe it concentrates the deeper I go?
That was an interesting consideration, something that made Rory curious about a floor he hadn’t thought much of for a long time.
The fourth floor.
The third floor of the Maw was home to primarily tier sixes and tier sevens, and even amongst tier sevens, the monsters never pushed far beyond level seventy-six. The only monsters that were high-tier-sevens or peak-tier-sevens were likely the Khans, with some having likely broken into the eighth tier as well.
Do I feel confident that I could face down a tier eight monster? Base tier eight, non-alpha? Yeah.
His and Zoey’s battle against the Queen had been quite informative in that department. As an Alpha Variant tier-eight, and a strong one at that, Rory suspected, it had probably been punching in around the likes of a level eighty-four or eighty-five regular monster. As strong as it was, it hadn’t been able to kill them instantly, and while that was expected for Zoey, it was telling that Rory had managed to even stall with how wide that gap should have been. Sure, it had been de-ranked to the likes of a regular variant monster after the Oblivion Chain had been used, thus rendering it ‘weaker.’ Still, it wasn’t quite the same as saying it was only as strong as a regular level eighty monster at that point, just that it couldn’t call upon the same depth of power.
All of that was to say, when Rory considered the prospect of a base-tier eight monster, rather than an insurmountable mountain that could only result in his death, he viewed it more as an interesting problem to tackle.
But, scale that up to either a low or mid-tier eight? Now that’s a bit different.
He doubted he’d see any of those on the third floor, though, given even the Khan of Blue Lightning wouldn’t have had the time needed to break much past the floor of tier eight.
Having returned to his journey, Rory was deep in thought as several minutes later, another claw attempted to rip his head off, reaching out from a hollowed den in the side of the tunnel, another Blight Keeper that Rory dealt with without even consciously focusing on it.
Now, a Khan is a different story. It’s safe to assume all the Khans are Territory Alphas.
Turning the thought over in his head, Rory continued his tentative planning.
Tier eight will be needed before the attempt is made, and I’ll want Zoey in tow, just like I told Irene. Bringing Eia may not be the wisest idea…. Actually, I have no idea how Eia’s been doing. Or Jinn, for that matter. I’ll also probably need a proper weapon. Projections are great and all, and my crafted weapons make for a nice, wide arsenal, but I’ve seen what having a genuinely great weapon can do.
He was, of course, referring to his late departed spear.
Hmm, another spear? Or maybe something different. A sword? Never been much of a sword person, so that could be interesting. A bow? Nah, I already spent quite a few years dabbling with bows when I first got here… Hmm, decisions, decisions.
Moving at incredible speeds that only a peak-tier seven who’d fully acclimated to their attributes, and further aided by Seams Unseen to make it easier to cut through any resistance in the air, Rory cleared distances in hours that would have taken days when he’d first ascended to tier seven. Pushing further and further out from their ‘region’ of the Maw, he found himself impressed with just how infested the region was with blight monsters.
Wasn’t this region supposed to be contested?
Following the general directions he was given and confirming with the map he had been given of the Maw decades ago, it was only another two or three hours later when Rory finally slowed down, entering what seemed to be a downward spiralling cliff face, streams of water coursing over the sides like a sink.
Or a toilet bowl.
You know what? Let’s stick with sink.
As he had gotten closer and closer, he’d begun to spot signs of battle, monsters -most Blight-archetypes though not all- who had been slain by huge slashes, a single wicked stab, or otherwise burnt to a crisp by something that showed no signs of fire.
Having found himself at the world’s largest toilet bowl-
I mean sink, damnit!
-the world’s largest sink, Rory locked on to a particular aura that made no attempt at hiding its presence.
“Fancy running into you here,” Rory said as he waltzed up to where Apostolos was sitting on the ground, back against a large rock, absentmindedly running the palm of his hand against the flat of this scythe blade.
“Originally, I wasn’t planning to come this far, but I figured after the events of the wave, there might be a chance that there could be a secondary surge of Blight monsters that hadn’t gotten the update that they’d failed.”
“Not terrible thinking,” Rory said as he sat down beside Apostolos.
For several minutes, the two remained silent before a sigh escaped Apostolos.
“What am I doing so wrong?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you’re still tier eight, you’re not even combat focused, and you’re like…. Like a god!”
“Oh, don’t start with-”
“I know, I know,” Apostolos said, interrupting Rory. “I don’t mean in the annoying religious sense like the Devotees. I mean, how could you so easily crush your foes? I know you, I know you haven’t returned forever. So what happens next time you leave?”
“Well, I’ll one hundred percent be back before the tier eight monster arrives at wave one hundred.”
“Not my point,” Apostolos sighed. “I’m not strong enough. I dedicate what I can, but how can I fail so utterly?”
Rory wanted to ease his worries, pat him on the back, and tell him to chin up; he would get there.
But that would be a lie, and Rory knew that.
“In the end, honestly, I’m not sure what to say,” Rory admitted. “If I had to make an assumption, it’s the ability to give everything to a singular goal. What is your goal?”
“To protect Ehkorrus and my family,”
“See, and there is the problem. You know my goal?”
“What’s that?” Apostolos asked, genuinely curious. He hadn’t really ever expected his former master to have a goal.
“I don’t have one. I do what I do for the love of the game. Let me ask you this: if you were told, for the rest of eternity, Ehkorrus would be safe, that your family would be as well, would you still be able to dedicate years straight to a single project?”
“Huh,” Apostolos frowned, chewing on his lip for a moment. “Frankly? I can’t say I would. I enjoy spending time with my family and people I care for.”
“No need to make me out to be heartless,” Rory grabbed his chest in mock pain.
“What about your fellow founder?”
“Oh, Zoey?” Rory tapped his knee, shaking his head. “She’s a bit like me, though a bit different. For me, curiosity to take on new projects is what drives me; for her, she wants to see everything there is to see, but that requires her to grow, or else some monster will consume her in the process. Now, I can’t say where I will be far into the future, but at the very least, the thought of spending another two or three hundred years on something doesn’t feel like a slice taken from my life. For you, that would be like missing generations of lives.”
“Because it would,” Apostolos defended himself. “There are people in Ehkorrus who haven’t even reached A4 yet, after forty years since they were first given a proper level. That means they’re in their fifties, and they haven’t yet reached what you did in under a year. Kids grow up in that time. Grandkids grow up in that time. So, is the path to strength to give up everything?”
“Not what I said,” Rory pointed out. “Giving up everything for strength sounds like something an angsty teenage boy might say. An old man like you should feel embarrassed just saying that out loud.”
Apostolos glared at Rory as his former master poked him in the side.
“But I get your point. Apostolos, my advice is just to do your best. Follow your path to the best of your ability. That said, there are two things that might help you directly.”
“Being?”
“Change of environment, and learning.”
“I’m not that stressed, I don’t need to relax and-”
“I didn’t mean a change of environment from some relaxation angle. I meant literally. The pneuma here is light as hell, meaning the monsters are also flimsy meatbags. That means the significance of killing them is lesser, and your overall skill is worse, and your foundation suffers as well. Spend some years in an environment of richer pneuma and see what happens.”
“But.. I can’t! They need me!”
“Do they?” Rory raised an eyebrow at Apostolos. “Are you some immortal tyrant that must rule forever?’
“No, but-”
“Then step down,” Rory chuckled. “Let someone else take the mantle. I’m not saying right this second, but you’ve lived your whole life here. Go and stretch your muscles on monsters that aren’t bowled over so easily. Hell, you might actually learn to harness the full output of your attributes.”
“I can’t. I have some skills that benefit me only when I’m working in the interest of Ehkorrus.”
“Lesson two!” Rory shouted, snapping a finger up into the air. “Perception of Intent!”
“Perception of Intent?”
“Exactly.” Rory nodded. “How we perceive the world is how we experience the world.”
“Someone else came up with that, didn’t they?”
“I might be borrowing,” Rory admitted. “But the point stands. Lesson two is learning, knowledge, and how we apply it. You’re letting your world, your skills, shape you, not the other way around. Because your skills benefit you only when you benefit Ehkorrus, you become trapped in a cycle of being a prisoner to the city you wish to protect. Still, you won’t want that to lead to resentment or otherwise excessive contentment. Reinterpret your world, leaving wouldn’t be abandoning your post, it would be reinforcing it.”
Apostolos frowned, but said nothing.
“Lesson 2B-”
“I didn’t know this lesson came with subsections.”
“Quiet, I’m on a roll,” Rory said, flicking Apostolos in the forehead. “Knowledge equates to strength just as much as attributes and skills do. Expand your knowledge, and you expand your strength. Ignoring how flimsy all these monsters are in this area, you want to know why I was able to punch out that Blight Commander?”
“How?”
“I utilized an application of the embodiment of self. I extended my own inner concept into my strikes. It was pretty obvious just looking at the thing that it had a physical damage nullification or reduction skill. Still, those can be overridden with a superior concept, and nothing trumps the concept of self. Now, did I add a splash of heavenly energy to really spice it up? Sure, but that doesn’t change what I’m saying: all of that was possible because of my knowledge.”
“I don’t even know what embodiment of self is.”
“Exactly my point,” Rory said with a snap. “As a side note, remind me to teach you at some point.”
Apostolos sighed, making a point of jotting down a mental note because Rory was sure to forget even to bother to attempt to remember.
“So, do you understand now?”
“I suppose so,” Apostolos grumbled.
“An old ass grandfather, and you still grumble like a kid,” Rory said as he jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow.
“Says you, the eternal child,” Apostolos jabbed an elbow back. “You wouldn’t know how to change a diaper if it hit you in the face.”
“Of course I would. I’d make something to do it for me.”
“Smartass.”
Grinning, Rory stood up and offered Apostolos his hand.
“C’mon.”
“C’mon, where?” Apostolos asked.
“There,” Rory jerked his head toward the totally-not-a-toiletbowl-cave.
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Apostolos sighed. “That’s an entrance into the Blight Lord’s region.”
“And?”
“And even I don’t attempt to push my luck by entering his direct region, that’s asking to be ambushed or something.”
“Bah,” Rory shook his hand as if waving off a bad smell. “If this ‘Blight Lord’ is anything like the Khan of Blue Lightning, he’s probably off being a lazy bastard, taking his sweet old time in climbing higher. Hell, I’d argue that the recent attempt to forcibly bring down Ehkorrus is a sign that it’s not as powerful as you might imagine, or that things are going well in the contested region. Rather than continue pressing against its fellow Khan’s, it found a ‘shortcut’ and opted for that angle instead. Ergo, a lazy bastard.”
“I’m… I’m not sure if that logic all holds up.”
“Besides, you’ll be with me,” Rory said, once more offering Apostolos his hand. “For old times’ sake?”
Glaring at Rory for several seconds, Apostolos finally sighed, clutching the offered hand with his own.
“For old times’ sake, you asshole.”
