Casual Heroing

I have played my fair share of video games. I don’t like to think of myself as a geek, a nerd, or whatever, but I do have some experience killing monsters in a fantasy setting. And one of the things that always left me perplexed was the architecture of Dungeons. Why do most of them have such high ceilings? Why?

And why is it always mines, crypts, and so on? Couldn’t it be just a cute barn painted red?

See, apparently, the skakkappoodle boss is an oversized version of the dog-sized monsters we have been fighting so far. I noticed the presence of a few burst sacs a while ago as we delved deeper and deeper into the mine, but now it makes some sense.

The boss is oozing a black membrane-ish liquid from its mouth, and the puddle at its feet is apparently becoming an embryo incubator. Yeah, I guess that if that thing were to get out, it would indeed create many problems. If you can generate monsters so easily, the death toll on the city would be devastating.

I understand why they put a Gold-rank evaluation on the thing and not higher. It’s massive, but it doesn’t seem able to do much more than what its body is showing me. It’s true that it is huge, though. Taller than the other guards and me too. It weights something insane, probably, like our weights combined multiplied by five. The difference between the boss and the spawn is pretty much the same as between a Chinese M-sized t-shirt and an American L-sized t-shirt.

“Lucillus, does that thing have hidden abilities?”

In retrospect, I should have asked that question first. But, again, I’m more casual. I don’t like going hardcore on things.

“It has acid glands in its mouth. Apart from making membrane sacs, it can spit acid. It’s also extremely strong and fast.”

That’s all?

Apart from the bigger-than-a-rhino thing, it only spits acid?

The boss is still looking at us without moving. It’s a female, I think. And that’s why its stare is pointed right at me.

It has huge fangs sprouting from its mouth, and its skin bends the light shining on it, repelling it. Its glassy eyes look half-blind but still retain all their monstrous charm.

“That’s one big fucker,” I find myself whispering. Reality is finally settling in.

[Rock Split]

[Rock Split]

[Rock Split]

In a fraction of a second, I multi-cast the spell to where Lucillus is tapping with his fist as he’s talking to those on the other side. The rocks give in, and Gaius’s group appears from behind. They are pale and bloodied from head to toe. Whatever happened to them mustn’t have been pretty.

“Lucillus, take Gaius and the others with you. I’ll kill this thing,” I say, and I add a little trick.

See, Stan taught me this one. I asked him out of pure curiosity. Apparently, you can add Mana to your voice to make it more commanding.

“I’m staying behind with him, Gaius,” says a female voice. “You go ahead. We’ll get back to you.”

I can see Vilith wielding a one-handed axe and a shield in the corner of my eye. Her gaze is hard, and she nods at me with newfound respect.

When Lucillus and the others start to move, that’s when the boss pounces.

[Single-Minded Focus]

The world around me slows down, and I breathe deeply.

[Advanced Light Shaping]

[Advanced Mana Sense]

“Keep the small monsters away from me,” I say in my dreamy state. My words must have been barely understandable because I spoke too fast. However, something tells me that Vilith has got the message.

[Advanced Light Lance]

The first projectile hits the monster's hind leg, making it fall on its side. Its hide, however, was not pierced. And that is why I have Advanced Mana Sense on. It makes the world look like a jubilant procession of colors, but it also allows me to work with the spell matrixes on a very granular level.

Do you remember the day I broke my wall with the [Light] orb?

I thought it would all be in the polarity of the magic. That day, I accelerated a spell by a factor of 150 by simply casting it faster and directing the starting points in the right place.

Now, my [Advanced Light Lance] is probably at the 3rd or the 4th tier, maybe. It packs quite the punch. However, unlike other [Lance] spells, it’s quite blunt, and it doesn’t have any overlapping effects. That’s the main difference between my class and the others. If you are a [Pyromancer], a [Fire Lance], or whatever it’s called, you can probably burrow into many monsters’ hides thanks to the class’s fire properties. Plus, it will scorch them and char their flesh.

But.

There’s a but.

A [Flame Lance] requires a higher level of control of the spell matrix because you need to convert the vectors into ‘flame energy.’ If you use neutral stuff, you get Light Magic. Now, even though it’s true that Light Magic is supposedly weaker than all other types of magic, it’s mostly because people can’t manipulate the spells.

The matrix of a [Light Lance], or an [Advanced Light Lance], like in my case, is—

The boss swipes down the three shields I had placed in front of me and bitch-slaps me into the wall.

I can feel the amulet activating to negate the real damage of the blow, but I still get thrown against the rock-hard wall. Air escapes my lungs, leaving me breathless. Stupid amulet.

The boss quickly turns to me, hungry.

Plus, Vilith is quickly overwhelmed by the waves of monsters coming at us. The boss acts as a natural beacon for the hounds coming to protect their mother. I’m still not sure if the boss is a she or a he. I hope no one gets angry with me for misgendering it.

The boss pounces toward me once again, making the ground shake.

As I was saying, the matrix of a [Light Lance] is much simpler. Or, as I like to think, cleaner. I can do a lot of stuff with it. And you may call me a cheater for this but look.

[Restructuring Conditions Met: Advanced Light Lance → Flame Lance!]

Oh, and that’s not all. I simply converted the energy. The spell matrix was not built by some idiot [Pyromancer] who wants to fiddle around and make everything dirty. Its core is still identical to a [Light Lance], meaning that the whole thing about polarity, starting points, and even anti-matrixes is still easily modifiable.

Man, we really need to talk about anti-matrixes and their effect on polarity, don’t we?

But for now, let’s just enjoy the fireworks.

I add three layers of anti-matrixes on top of the spell, feeling my mind straining even with the focus skill. All the starting points create a reversed vacuum of power that propels the spell at around eight times its previous speed.

I already have a hand on a Mana potion for when the spell goes off. This conversion process is still very inefficient, sadly.

While I’m taking a sip, a two-fists-sized hole appears in the monster’s chest.

An eardrum-tearing scream runs through the mines.

For Pete’s sake, why does everyone need to scream?