Chapter 43: Making Plans

Axel raised an eyebrow. “You’re saying I can save billions of my people out of their individual hellholes right now?”

“Don’t be stupid, it’s not that simple,” Lune groaned. “You can’t just simply become the God-Leader of your people because you decide it so.”

“Is being the strongest not enough? Because I’m ninety-nine percent sure I’m the strongest of my race right now,” Axel said before he blinked and paused. “No, wait, scratch that. Make it ninety percent. I have no idea how my Captain is doing. I wouldn’t be surprised if that Blood-Haired She-Devil somehow managed to exceed my kill count already.”

“There’s more of you?!” Lune exclaimed, her purple eyes flashing.

Ymir looked over curiously. “Blood-Haired? I thought you led a military cadre known as the ‘White-Haired Demon’. You announced as much in our duel.”

“Huh, so you caught that earlier.” Axel frowned. “I keep forgetting your brainpower doesn’t match your stature. Not a dumb brute at all. Good on you, big guy.”

“My thanks for the compliment,” Ymir snorted, unamused. “Your estimation of me must be quite poor if you think having a basic memory is the edge of impressive intellect.”

“Wait, my question first!” Lune cut in. “I thought you were an exception among your race! Is your entire species this strong?!”

“I am an exception, but there are others as well,” Axel shrugged. “Gene-modified supersoldiers make up the bulk of my Planet’s special forces. We were all called ‘Evangelists’ by the UEC at one point, but… I suppose that means nothing to you. In any case, my cadre was the 76th batch. The latest and most successful. The White-Haired Demons.”

“You all had white hair and pale skin?” Lune mused. “Gene-modification… Your people had the technology to alter your own biology?”

“The pale pigmentation of our skin and hair was a side effect of the gene-stress we suffered during the early days of our biological metamorphosis,” Axel shrugged. “That was the least intrusive of our physical changes, but the distinctive appearance gave us our reputation. The UEC’s enemies started calling us ‘White-Haired Demons’, and we kept killing more and more, so… It stuck.”

“And what of that Captain you speak of? The one you claim to have red hair,” Ymir asked casually.

“The Captain's genes were always a little more stubborn than the rest of the cadre; she retained some of her colours,” Axel barked a laugh. “Pretentious bitch always thought she was better than the rest of us because of it… Though that arrogance was earned, I supposed. She didn’t become the Captain in a pack of rabid killers simply because her hair looked a little nicer.”

Standing out was not always a good thing. The Captain certainly learnt that the hard way in her childhood.

The scientists, impressed by her genetic resilience, subjected her to even more intensive gene-splicing treatments. The agony she suffered made the rest of theirs pale in comparison… Except, perhaps, Axel’s.

Only his modification came remotely close to the biological invasiveness she suffered, and so his strength was the closest to hers.

“But you were the leader of your pack, not her, despite her superior rank and strength,” Ymir prodded once more, to Axel’s mild irritation. “You even called yourself their ‘Harbinger’, indicating a position of earned authority among your people. Why?”

The soldier kept his emotions mild, even as the Reaper’s laughter in the back of his head grew. 

“Let’s just say I was the one who took the moral obligation of caring for the cadre, and leave it at that.” Axel’s tone called for an end to their discussion on the matter.

Lune looked disappointed, but she buried her curiosity away. 

Ymir looked like he wanted to push — an odd behaviour considering the Giant’s otherwise neutral curiosity on Axel’s species thus far — but eventually the General chose to maintain the silence.

Axel sighed. “Look, we got off-topic. How does one become the Tyrant of their species? If being the strongest is not enough, what else must I do?”

“Being the strongest of your people is not even a qualifier,” Ymir snorted. “Otherwise, we would have millions of Tyrants from a million different races. Not every species has a Tyrant — not having one is more the norm than anything else. Only about one in a thousand species possess a Tyrant.”

Axel sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. “Right. That means either the requirements are too difficult to obtain… Or the position is one that has a limited capacity within the System, and thus must be taken.”

“Sharp as always,” Lune nodded. “Yes. One of the first requirements to attain the position of Tyrant is that you must slay another.”

Of course, killing was the way to go. Axel barked a laugh. “Fortunate, then, that we have a Tyrant coming our way here.”

“You are not going to be able to kill my father, Axel,” Lune sighed. “The power difference between you two is too large. The man had decades to accumulate his power. He has fought in countless Zones and earned his own trove of Skill Points, equipment, and abilities. You only had one day.”

“I’ve beaten the odds before, haven’t I?” Axel chuckled. “I mean, you thought I would die against big buddy over here, but I won!”

“Ymir let you win,” Lune said, exasperated. “My father is going to squash you like a bug, Axel. He didn’t become a Tyrant because he was weak.”

Well, the solution was simple, then.

He just needed more power.

Axel looked to his UI, willing it to display his stats.

~~~

Skills

Free Skill Points: 84 

Offensive skill

Strength (Str): 42

Dexterity (Dex): 25

Perception (Per): 25

Intelligence (Int): 23

Defensive skill

Endurance (End): 50

Agility (Agl): 70

Serendipity (Ser): 16

Wisdom (Wis): 17

~~~

He had 84 bloody Free Skill Points to spend. The combination of his Class Boon with the bonus points he earned from the ‘The Right to Continue Your Existence’ Trait he received for winning the duel had given him an astronomical power boost.

Would this be enough to even the odds between him and a Tyrant?

“What would be the average points for each skill that your father would have?” Axel asked, before frowning. “Actually, wait. Does our species even operate on the same numeric scaling? When I first received my UI, it mentioned the number ‘7’ being used as the average baseline of a human.”

“The System automatically translate our UI Skill Point numerology when we discuss it with other species, so it’s no problem,” Lune waved off his concern. “As for my father… He would have an average of 100 across his lesser skills, and somewhere around 200 for his core skills.”

Axel’s earlier enthusiasm died. “Ah.”

That was… significantly worse than what he thought it would be. The Tyrant was mentioned by Lune to be Level 76, so Axel was hoping the gap between them would not be so vast.

This was not even accounting for the trove of superior equipment the Tyrant would no doubt wield over Axel. 

But maybe there was a chance… If the Tyrant’s Endurance was weak, perhaps Axel’s speed and strength could give him a killing blow? 

“What Skills does your Father specialise in?” he asked hopefully.

Lune hummed consideringly. “Strength, Endurance, Wisdom, and Intelligence.”

Well, crap, there goes that plan.

Ymir gave a low chuckle. “For future reference, you would find most of the long-standing players of the Great Game have vastly invested in their resistance. Endurance and Wisdom provide physical and magical durability, respectively, and are thus more important than any other skill. Only a fool invests entirely into offence and neglects any of their defences.”

“Right. Of course,” Axel agreed as he looked at his skill points.

[Wisdom (Wis): 17]

I probably should get that fixed before a stray blast of magic kills me.

“The matter of our goals can come later,” Lune said. “Our immediate concern should be to leave the Zone and return to the Hub. Regardless of where we ended up, it should be possible for us to find a safe place to recover and replenish our supplies. We cannot stay here.”

“Agreed,” Ymir nodded. “The Fae Tyrant will come. We cannot face him with our strength so diminished.”

Both of the Fae denizens looked to Axel. The soldier coughed.

“Right. So if I choose to stay here, would that be problematic?” he asked.

“It would mean I gave up a mountain of resources to merely prolong your life for another hour,” the Giant sighed. “We will not force you, but I strongly implore you to see the side of reason and accept that there is no circumstance in which you might kill the Fae Tyrant.”

“There are other ways you can help your species, Axel,” Lune added gently. “You cannot atone if you are dead.”

Axel grimaced, then relented. “Fine. I’ll come with you.”

Putting aside the suicidal option of staying within the Zone, he would be stupid to pass up two possible allies with much more familiarity with the System and its alien intricacies. Information was key to survival, and if he wanted to last in the Great Game, he needed to stack every advantage in his favour.

There might not be much of a human race by the end of the week. Axel would do what he could, and mourn the rest.

Billions dead… And the chances of seeing anyone he ever knew again reduced to infinitesimally slim odds.

His cadre… He wondered if any of them were still alive. It wasn’t impossible. They were all well-trained, lethal killers in their own ways. But all held the same suicidal tendencies that Axel boasted, and without the camaraderie of the cadre or the watchful eyes of their Harbinger to rein in their feral insanity, most would run headlong to a violent and bloody death, smiling madly the entire time.

Axel shook his head. Such ill-despairing thoughts were not helping him. Perhaps he could turn to more positive matters. He had acquired a small fortune in loot from his battle with the Fae Prince, not to mention all those traits he had earned. It would be good to look upon his gains and study his new power.

Lune and Ymir engaged in discussion over common topics regarding the Fae’s recent affairs — the Giant had missed much over his long years of enslavement — while Axel studied the descriptions of his new Traits and weapons.

The Moonlight Lance was a powerful tool, but it was obvious his Skill Point allocation made it a poor fit for his hand. It was a solid weapon as a backup, but unless pushed to use it, Axel would likely continue with the Golden Halberd. That thing packed a mean blade, and the soldier had grown quite fond of how the edge would whistle as it cleaved flesh like water. 

Leader Slayer and Boss Slayer were simply enough boons: direct damage upgrades. There was little more to be said about them.

Fae Royal Wishing was a curious addition. He did not even know Traits could be earned in such a manner. It was strange. Why would the System award him for putting to rest the anguish of the dead or the enslaved? That went against the sadistic nature he had seen exhibited by the massive eldritch being so far. 

Still, the buff was nice. An increased resistance to sleep was useful, and the boon to Fae-Blessed weaponry would easily increase his general damage, given that half his arsenal consists of Fae-enchanted blades.

‘Heroic Isolation’ got another upgrade. Now, bolstered with his Class Boon, he would have a massive +20 to all Skills while in combat alone. It was a ridiculous upgrade. Axel was almost itching for a fight to test out his newfound strength.

For ‘Reaper’s Piety’... Perhaps the less said about that one, the better for now. Axel was not comfortable going into its specific nature and abilities.

‘The Right to Continue Your Existence’ Trait was going to be a pain. Having his health permanently reduced to half and his Experience Growth crippled would greatly affect his survivability. On the other hand, the massive influx of Free Skill Points, further doubled by his Class Boon, was a major advantage that arguably offset any defects of the trait. His primary title, ‘Heroic Isolation’, would also mitigate the EXP loss.

The main problem was the loss of health. What Ymir mentioned about survivability was a concern. Only having half health made him extremely vulnerable to a one-hit death, especially given his constant encounters fighting opponents of superior strength.

That being said, I have started leaning more towards Agility as a means of surviving through combat. My use of ‘Last Stand’ to boast my powers always meant that I was a single hit from death anyway. Perhaps instead of increasing my Endurance to compensate, I could simply increase my speed to ludicrous levels?

A dangerous notion, one that bordered on arrogance. It would mean he would always be one mistake from death. Axel was undoubtedly lethal in combat, with his instincts finally tuned and honed in battle. But he was still human (in a certain sense). He could not confidently say he would never slip up for the rest of his participation in the Great Game.

He had a massive pile of Free Skill Points. How he spent them would dictate how he would grow into the future. Should he follow the prudent approach and spend his points to cover up his weakness, or double down on his strengths and pray for the best? One was the obvious and safe choice, but the other…

The other might give him enough offensive might to take down even a Tyrant.