Rogue Ascension 70. A One Man Army in a Desert of Bad Things

A lot had changed for Joey Eclipse. Five days ago, he was handsomely rewarded by a musical spider prince before leaving the safety of civilization and giant city walls. He was level 84 and practically a one man group now. His clones did most of the dirty work to survive the myriad dangers of the Sand Spire Dungeon. The pocket realm had obstacles made for many adventurers, not just one great rogue.

“Yo, boss! We got banditos on our six!” a clone yelled.

Joey blinked as he exited out of his temporally blurring skill Meditative Stasis and regained his footing on the natural flow of time. He’d been going in and out of Meditative Stasis for a while now, so it took him a second to recompose himself.

[Meditative Stasis (Basic): Enter a stasis that reduces your bodily needs, clears clutter from your mind, and incrementally increases overall recovery. Even when time seems to flow faster, you can exit stasis instantly. Monks told me I need to slow things down. Get in touch with myself to be my better self. I’ve tried it out. Now time seems weirdly liquid. It’s a little freaky, but I can’t stop doing it.]

[You’ve leveled up Meditative Stasis from 21 to 24!]

Joey smiled despite the oncoming danger. He’d been working on Meditative Stasis for the past week. He was gaining back so much essence he could maintain a gang of clones without dismissing them now. He was practically a battery for his Shadow Clone Magic spell.

Joey scanned his surroundings with his right eye. His left eye was shut except for moments when he used the Shade Dragon Mirror Eye. He was starting to get used to having his left side be his blindside. His roguish focus enhanced his depth perception. He took a good gander of the flat and sandy landscape with sparse vegetation. He was okay with not seeing vegetation. The vegetation were monstrous jerks.

Out here were Blood-Bladed Weeds, patches of seemingly harmless grass that would tear the unexpected apart when touched. There were Needle-Shooting Cactus that lived up to their names from as far as two hundred feet. Then there was one of the freakiest desert plant life Joey had seen yet: the Walking Mummy Tree. Its bandage-like vines reached for anything living as it walked on its thick, feet-like roots.

Joey had watched a monster get caught by those vines and pulled into the hungry branches as the tree hobbled speedily across the sand. That was a very disturbing sight that took an hour of Meditative Stasis to cleanse from his mind.

It was wild out here in the Sand Spire Dungeon.

It was nightmarish.

Joey smiled into the wind as their transport continued its many-legged locomotion like a double-trailer truck. Beneath him was a living, breathing, and massive creature.

Its name was Little Happy Man.

[Sand Spire Beast: Big Bug: Giant Desert Millipede lvl 100.]

There was nothing little about the giant desert millipede and its thick brown multi-segmented carapace and its ability to carry various platforms on its back. It was also a very intelligent dungeon beast, too. It didn’t need a driver to follow orders and was quick to do what it was told.

Of course, it hadn’t been Joey who came up with the name Little Happy Man. That had been his clones, who came packaged with shades of personalities that leaned on being comic and thuggish or wise and supportive or somewhere inbetween.

Joey looked back at eight of his clones spread out amid Little Happy Man’s back, covering all of the one hundred and twenty feet of the milipede’s length. The ground rolled by speedily as the millipede’s thick legs and spongy feet drummed over the sand at a rapid pace.

Joey could definitely outrun Little Happy Man in a foot race now. He was superhuman thanks to his stats. But the giant millipede could keep going for a long, long time. It didn’t need much other than the giant juicy fruits in one of the carts bound to its back. It could eat on the run, too, so Joey’s journey to the All Crawler’s Sand Spire was becoming a quick one.

“Boss, so, about those banditos?” the clone called.

“Chill out, the boss is reflecting. You know how gets when he comes out of meditation,” another clone said.

“He’s like a wizened elder. In a little man’s body. Maybe we should name him Little Wise Man,” said a third.

Joey summoned a new clone with a glyphlock pistol. The clone passed the pistol to Joey for him to shoot the other clone who dared to think up the idea of ‘Little Wise Man.’ As that audacious clone disappeared, Joey’s shadows fell silent, the horror evident on their faces. Then the clones burst into laughter as if it was no big deal. Joey chuckled. He might’ve spent too much time with himself. At this point, he wasn’t even sure if he truly had viewers watching him almost constantly. That was a thing Mike and others had mentioned about being an adventurer in the dungeons. An entire realm outside of here was watching Joey. They watched him sleep. They watched him commit ruthless, crazy, and sometimes genius actions to overcome the dungeon.

He wondered what his friends outside of here would say. What would Nate think of Joey’s brutal assassination of the Head Cleric? Would Liam and Emelia agree to the card game that removed the Black Market Chief from the city without killing him? Joey imagined the War Princess Maylolee would have constructive criticism about Joey’s performance against the City Commander. Joey missed them. However, if he had a choice of one person he could talk to right now, it would be Curi, the friendly kraken trader. Maylolee was a close second, but getting transported by Little Happy Man was reminding Joey of his adventures across the rides while getting transported by Curi.

“This is another circle, isn’t it? Why does it feel like I’m startin every new cycle of my adventures getting transported on an improbable mount?” Joey asked, being humorous while also being serious. Was there some deep meaning behind being carried to his next big adventure? Was that the foundation of his greatness? That regardless of all he achieved, he should look back at those who helped him get to where he was? Joey wasn’t usually a philosopher, but he was still under the after-glow of a good meditation session.

Joey tilted his head as a probing arrow shot past inches from his cheek. Not a bad shot, really. I guess it’s time to play the game.

“We know the drill. Sword clones, prepare yourselves.” The clones he kept on watch raised their swords. The one he’d shot was replaced with the clone who’d given him a pistol – that clone had a sword, too. Eight sword clones were ready for duty.

“Sniper clones, forward.” Joey summoned eight more clones who lacked swords. Instead, they held rifles with metal sights on their long barrels in their hands and strapped to their backs. Joey had two of the same strapped to his back. Just like his pistol, it looked like a flintlock weapon made of wood, metal, and pale pistole. No scope, unfortunately, but the iron sights were suitable.

[Glyphlock Long Rifle (Basic): Activate with essence and pull the trigger. You have a 99% chance of shooting the ball successfully. One shot.]

“Buckshot clones, wait by the snipers.” Another eight clones were summoned. In their hands and on their backs were the double-barrel shotties.

[Glyphlock Double-Barrel Shotgun (Basic): Activate with essence and pull the trigger twice. You have a 99% chance of shooting the buckshot successfully. Two shots. The barrels might explode in the end and damage you instead of disintegrating.]

The buckshot clones hooted and hollered like they were bandits themselves. Granted, Joey was dressed in brown leathers, beige robes, a dark gray face mask with goggles, and loads of harnesses, pockets, and gear. He could’ve played the role of an over-prepared desert survivor in an apocalyptic movie or game. His clones looked the same as they spread out around Little Happy Man’s back, pushing up against the carts and platforms that helped stabilize them and serve as cover. More arrows were raining in as the ‘banditos’ got closer.

Joey analyzed them.

[Sand Spire Denizen: Scorpion Walker: Bandit lvl 76.]

[Sand Spire Denizen: Desert Antman: Bandit lvl 66.]

[Sand Spire Denizen: Scorpion Walker: Bandit lvl 79.]

[Sand Spire Beast: Dungeon Reptile: Sand Dasher Lizard lvl 75.]

[Sand Spire Beast: Dungeon Reptile: Sand Dasher Lizard lvl 76.]

Sand Spire Beast: Dungeon Reptile: Sand Dasher Lizard lvl 74.]

They were an eclectic group kicking up a bunch of sand clouds behind them. The denizens rode on the lizards, who were pretty quick on their feet. They were so quick, the denizens had to pull on the reins to make the lizards stop before they could shoot their bows and arrows. Joey counted at least thirty denizens and the same number of beast mounts. A large enough number to pose a threat to Little Happy Man. The arrows didn’t do too much damage and deflected off of the millipede’s carapace mostly. But the arrows that stuck could be poisoned, and enough of those would slow the hard-working millipede down.

That wasn’t Joey’s biggest concern.

The bandits were working with monsters.

[Sand Spire Monster: Dungeon Scalie: Big Fast Mauler lvl 85.]

There were forty of those types. They stood eight feet tall, looked like bulky body lifters with scales and a lizard head, and could run long distances at a rapid pace. These are the gym bros who don’t skip out on cardio, huh? Joey thought as he finished surveying the situation. The environment remained flat with no obstructions between him and the enemies. The ground was hard packed sand with patches of rock here and there. The sun was high up and shining directly down on them with no bad weather in sight.

Perfect.

The first rifle cracked with an air-splitting retort. Joey watched as a bandit’s head snapped back. A small pink cloud of brain matter and skull bits rained down on the parched sand. The bandit’s corpse dropped from the back of its mount, pulling on the reins, jerking the dungeon reptile into an unexpected stop, slowing the others behind it. It wasn’t long until a mauler ran up and tossed the corpse off the back of the reptile mount and urged the beast to continue the chase. That was the perfect window for a shot. Another rifle crack put a ball in the dome of the distracted mauler, killing two while removing a third enemy out of play.

“My rifles fired true!” The clone with the first two kills shouted. He pulled out a kunai. “Going in! Shadow gang!”

“Gang gang!” The other clones roared back as their kunai-equipped brother lunged off the back of Little Happy Man. The kunai clone met a nearby bandit riding up and struck with blade and tenacity.

Joey nodded as the clone got some good stabs in before getting taken out, slowing another pair of enemies. Another newly formed sniper clone was walking into position to replace the one who finished his duty. More rifle shots cracked through the dry desert air. The sniper clones picked their shots carefully and made it rain pink on the golden sand.

Once finished, they drew their short blades, leaving their spots for a replacement while jumping out to knife an enemy face to face. Like a bunch of happily suicidal and murderous war fighters. Now they were getting a steady rhythm going, calling up when they fired their rifles before lunging overboard at any enemies that dared to get close.

As for Little Happy Man, he knew his role. He kept going.

Joey walked along its back to remove arrows that had stuck true and poured an antidote solution in the wounds from a bottle. He worked diligently as basic support and source of reinforcement. One of those monsters took notice of him specifically out of his many clones.

[You don’t have enough essence to stop all of us, little adventurer!] A mauler roared, showing off its big teeth and bigger mouth. It was barreling close while making quick zigzag patterns to avoid being shot. [I will rip your head from between your shoulders and eat it in one bite! Hahahahaha!]

A shotgun clone raised his double-barrels and yelled. “For the clones!”

“For keeping it real!” the clones shouted back in the din of a firefight.

The ambitious mauler drew closer and got two magic barrels pointed at its monstrous face. The mauler threw up a hand quickly and watched it get splattered by magic buckshot. Everything down from the elbow was strips of meat and broken bone fragments.

[This is not enough to stop me!] The mauler launched up to land on Little Happy Man’s back. The shotgun clone lunged forward to meet the monster. They crashed, the mauler swiping with its good hand. But the clone was quicker with his finger. The second barrel thundered and the entire gun exploded, taking out the clone. The mauler flew backward with its chest scooped open and its face flayed and smashed. It landed in the way of a bandit and his mount, tripping them both up.

Joey sent another shotgun clone to replace the last. It looked like Joey’s shadow gang were maintaining well enough. The expense was considerable but steady. Joey had more than enough to outlast the enemies. Of course, five days after leaving Hieroglyph City had taught him to expect complications.

The dungeon refused to let things stay smooth for Joey.

“Yo, they’re changing tactics. No more bows and arrows. They’re bringing out the shields!” a clone warned.

“I can’t shoot through the shields. They’re covering their heads and their rides,” another clone informed.

“Hey, we got something up in the air. Looks like a buzzard swarm!” said a third clone.

“I should shut up! I really should. But I gotta inform y’all because we got a whole jungle showing up in front of us! The desert said ‘here’s all y’all monster plants!’”

Joey turned to confirm the last announcement of bad news. The way forward was covered by a huge swath of Blood-Bladed Weeds. The devilish plants quivered in anticipation of ripping up Little Happy Man’s legs.

To the left of the sea of Blood-Bladed Weeds were two Walking Mummy Trees on a stroll together. They were picking up the pace, their thick feet-like roots slamming down with ground shaking thumps. Their bandage-like vines swung idly as the jagged black branches pointed toothily in their direction. There was no going left.

Unfortunately, going right would put them on the edge of a patch of Needle-Shooting Cactuses that gave the Blood-Bladed Weeds a healthy span of distance. But not very healthy for Joey’s transport. The safe zone between the Blood-Bladed Weeds and the Needle-Shooting Cactuses was ten to fifteen feet wide at most. Maybe narrower than that.

“Little Happy Man!” Joey shouted, running up to the millipede’s head. “You’re going to have to thread the needle here. Go right, then stay as close to the Blood-Bladed Weeds as you can. We’ll take care of the rest.”

Little Happy Man’s big googly jell-o eyes rotated up to Joey. They were black on maroon, and could display a lot of emotion. The millipede was concerned. Joey would hate to see Little Happy Man get hurt badly.

“Don’t worry, I’m here,” Joey said, pulling down his face covering to smile.

Little Happy Man let out a soft shrill. Like a truck pulling on its horn, but with a cute toot toot instead of a big bellow.

“Brace for the sway!” Joey shouted back.

“On it!” a clone replied.

Little Happy Man changed directions faster and harder than a locomotive should be able. It committed to its hard turn. Its right side lifted up into the air slightly while leaning heavy on its left. The clones latched onto the straps holding up its carts and logistical supplies. The bandits and monsters took advantage by barreling in fast. The sword clones and shotgun clones proved their mettle with all-in attacks, Joey replacing them quickly. He stayed up front as he watched Little Happy Man serve away from the front of the Blood-Bladed Weeds.

“Hit that drift! Hit that drift!” cheered a clone.

Little Happy Man tooted back as it readjusted to the turn. Its right side came back down. Then Little Happy Man performed an even sharper turn before the end of its body twisted around to follow the head. Like a game of snake, the front of Little Happy Man’s body swerved into a sharp left turn. Its left side lifted up while cornering the Blood-Bladed Weeds with inches to spare from getting ripped apart. Joey leaned over to watch if the millipede could pull off the on-the-dime maneuver without touching the grass.

The body straightened. There was no more than half a foot between the millipede and the dreaded weeds.

“He did it!” Joey shouted in amazement.

“That’s our Little Happy Man!”

“Hey, but what about the buzzards?” a clone asked.

“Nah, man, don’t worry about that. Shady and his clones got that.”

Right on cue, Shady materialized while forming five clones. A huge chunk of Joey’s essence supply disappeared as the six black dragon heads flew up with dark embers crackling between their large sharp teeth. Shady and his clones formed up in a V pattern before snapping open their jaws and blasting forth six powerful gouts of Shade Dragon Breath. It was like having heavy air support darkening the skies with flame and fury. Buzzards screamed as they fell in flaming corkscrews to the ground. Many had the misfortune of landing in the Blood-Bladed Weeds or close to the Needle-Shooting Cactuses. It was a beautiful sight of destruction and death. Too bad Joey had to refocus on the rush of enemies lined up right behind Little Happy Man. With their shields raised, the bandits and monsters weren’t easy to turn away. They wouldn’t stop the hunt even while sandwiched between deadly vegetation.

“Walking Mummy Trees! They don’t give a damn about the weeds!” a clone warned.

The two mummy trees were dashing full-tilt at Joey’s caravan instead, crushing the weeds beneath their steely root-feet. The trees were hungry. They refused to be denied their pound of blood and flesh.

Joey remembered his fear from the first time he saw them. He wasn’t afraid anymore. He looked back at his clones as he formed more of them. “They’re messing with the wrong ones, shadow gang! They’re gonna learn!”

“Make ‘em learn!” the clones replied as a bunch of them without weapons flipped open a tarp covering one of the supplies. It was filled with some of Joey’s favorite glyph tiles. They grabbed two tiles a piece and dark-dashed through the air to meet the mummies head-on. The bandage-like vines whipped through the air whip-crack quick. They didn’t do any harsh damage, which kept the clones alive, but they were quick to wrap their prey up and pull them toward their toothy branches.

Joey smiled as the fireworks popped off. Each sacrificial clone was armed with two explosive glyph tiles. Boom, boom. The mummies let out hollowed shrieks with voices that echoed from deep within their monstrous trunks. Their pain was music to Joey’s ears. But they wouldn’t suffer alone. Joey had sent bomber clones flying off their carvan’s backside and blasting the front of the attackers, busting wide open their running shield formation. It slowed them down drastically, too. Which worked out perfectly as the mummy trees realized Joey’s caravan was a little too difficult for their taste. They redirected toward the bandits.

“Would you look at that, boss?” a clone pointed. “You’re really getting good at this one man army stuff.”

Joey smiled behind his balaclava mask and goggles. Shady hovered down by himself, the air still tinted dark from fireshow that slain half a swarm of buzzards. Maulers and bandits screamed their last as the mummies wrapped them up and pulled them into their teeth-like branches. Little Happy Man kept drumming forward with no more concerns as a sea of blood hungry grass blurred by them.

“Nah, I’m no one man army,” Joey said. “I’m just a great adventurer who doesn’t mind putting on a good show.”

The clone nodded. “Damn straight.”

Joey chuckled as he checked his system messages. The slain notifications were simplified the most.

[You’ve slain eighty-four Desert Antman Bandits, Scorpion Walker Bandits, Dungeon Reptile Sand Dashers, Dungeon Scalie Big Fast Maulers, and Dungeon Avian Sand Buzzards ranging from lvl 63 to lvl 87! Experience is awarded!]

[You’ve leveled up Shade Dragon Rogue from 84 to 85!]

…

[You’ve raised your mind from 224 to 226!]

[You’ve raised your body from 228 to 230!]

[You’ve raised your spirit from 233 to 237!]

Joey sighed. It was a lot of expended essence and effort to get just one level up. This was his second since leaving Hieroglyph City. All in the span of five days that had seen him face off against bandits and monsters and horrible plants. The climb to Level 100 was hard.

At the very least, his two new skills were working out well for his clones. There would’ve been three, but one of the Skill Books the Hieroglyph Prince had gifted disintegrated with no effect. It was clear that Joey was at his limit for skills. He couldn’t really complain, though. The two new ones were good.

[Glyph Luck (Basic): Any contraption or magical ability that has a percentage of success and failure will be manipulated more in your favor. It’s a slight adjustment, but every little bit can help. There are mages that are more insane than intelligent. They play with forces they shouldn’t touch whatsoever. I hope they lose their fingers so the rest of us stays safe.]

This helped the clones a lot, reducing the chance of firing duds. Joey benefited, too, pushing his chance rate to 99% with glyphlock guns. That was fairly reliable with the slightest margin for error. The clones benefited more than him since copying glyphlock guns was one of the few loopholes Joey could take advantage of indefinitely. Glyph tiles were an uncopyable resource, unfortunately. The next one made it possible for the clones to snipe from a distance.

[Scope Eye (Basic): Focus through one eye for enhanced vision similar to a scope. Stay still to draw an accurate bead on a target. It ain’t fair that archers can sit back and shoot the rest of us. Here’s an idea, let’s give them a taste of their own medicine.]

Just like that, Joey could now compete against archers from afar. At least within medium to medium-far distances. Higher level archers could shoot from way far out and hit accurately and quickly. That distance was going to increase with levels and ascension into the next realms. Still though, Joey’s bag of tricks was growing deeper and more variable.

The unfortunate part was that he needed time to train up these two new skills. They were lagging behind the rest.

“I kind of miss the old training days,” Joey said, sitting against a cart. He used the lowest setting of Meditative Stasis to stop losing essence while having a small group of clones to keep watch. “Back then, I could train and learn new things to my heart’s content.”

“Can’t right now,” one of the clones said. “Gotta be efficient. We got the people waiting on us. And our friends! The shadow boss and shadow gang gotta show up and represent.”

Exactly. Everyone had been waiting on Joey for too long. Efficiency was more important than training right now. It was too bad he couldn’t train through his clones. They could use his powers, but only Joey could grow his skills through direct action. With a spell like Shadow Clone Magic, he only needed to stay alive and regular his essence to handle most issues.

That isn’t exactly true. I got some good help everywhere I go. Joey smiled and patted Little Happy Man’s head between the googly eyes. The giant desert millipede let out a soft toot toot sound. Its eyes showed glee from Joey’s approval.

“Good work, my friend. You were brave, fast, and on point.”

Little Happy Man made more toot toot sounds. Some clones walked up with its melon-sized fruits. They worked together, dangling one clone down its face to directly feed its mouth while their caravan kept going forward. Joey found a nice shaded spot against a cart and sat cross-legged. His channels were cold. As much as he would like to laze about and watch the landscape pass them by, he had his own duty. He dialed up Meditative Stasis and quickly thawed his channels and regained essence points.

The life of a dungeon-conquering rogue was a peculiar one no doubt. Joey pondered deeply on what his viewers thought of all this action and adventure. He was especially curious about his friends’ opinions.

71.