Ubel CH4

It was crazy what a man could get used to or, in my case, a human elder blood hybrid. Every morning, noon, and night, I took a health potion to recover from the wear on my tendons and ligaments. My body grew stronger every day from the cursed gear Red forced me to wear. There was more and better food than I experienced before and I managed to grow a few centimeters because of it. Joining the goblins was the best thing that could have happened to me. I was growing stronger with no end in sight.

My time making potions gave me time to think about the adventurers I spoke to and the accuracy of their words. Adventurers were known for being insane, and articles from my system searches backed that up. Some claimed humans weren’t meant to live for tens of thousands of years, and there were consequences for it. Memories could ensnare adventurers and trap them in a different time and place, possessing their bodies for unknown amounts of time. So, I started to question the accuracy of Red’s claims about my sister’s soul.

True word, I didn’t know if the King in Yellow had my sister’s soul. What did the King in Yellow gain from taking it? I didn’t know, and the articles pertaining to that were locked behind a level wall.

A knock at my door took me out of my inner thoughts. I listened to make sure it was the correct pattern before turning the lock.

The anticipated group of goblins picked up a caldron full of healing potions, not the lesser variety, thanks to my skill.

Heavenly Tribulation destroyed what I didn’t need from ingredients, allowing me to refine them to only the components I needed. It helped big time especially when I had to buy my own ingredients. As it turned out, my quest didn’t specify who supplied the ingredients. So long as they paid me, I owed 100 vials of lesser healing potion a week. A vial of healing potion was worth 10 lesser healing potions, so I made sure to overstock them.

My inventory still had armor and healing scrolls for when they would be most useful to reveal. I felt content to wait; there was no end of term for the quest. So long as the quest giver lived, I was expected to make potions in exchange for the payment.

On an unrelated note, every day, I check the map, and the yellow line moves closer. Soon enough, Sky Spear, the capital of the Gob republic and its only city, would be hit. Once that happened, the goblins could resist or succumb. I would be here to renegotiate and supply them with potions every step of the way.

Mos came into my workshop carrying a bag of subs and tossed me one while I reclined on the floor. “Your bed would be more comfortable,” Mos said.

The straw mattress looked comfortable enough far more than anything I laid on.

“It would break if I laid in it,” I said.

The weights that were helping me get stronger made life difficult.

Mos fell into gossip immediately when the door closed behind the gobs running off with my healing potion. “Luff and his boys hunted a bear that had yellow worms in the meat. You were out in the wilderness; do you know anything about that?”

Lightning crackled as I struggled to get control of myself. She wasn’t accusing me, or at least I hoped she wasn’t. Mos was a good girl who liked to bump into me a little too much.

“Do you think that zap spell of yours could do something about your cursed gear?” Mos asked.

It was a hell of a good idea. My Heavenly Tribulation skill could separate properties in herbs why couldn’t it do the same with my gear.

“That was the first thing I tried after meeting my quota,” I said.

Mos’s ears drooped, and I knew I had to soften the blow, or she might spit in my food as revenge. Goblins didn’t really react the same way as humans did to emotional pain.

“You’re the brilliant alchemist. I guess it was a no-brainer; you would have thought of that first.” Mos said.

“It was a good idea; great minds think alike.” A crack of a smile appeared on her fanged face. “You wanted to know more about the outside world and the yellow worms,” I said.

The goblin girl perked up, flashing her bat wing-like ears, looking all cute with her big yellow eyes and thick rear. It was hard not checking her out. Unfortunately, my cursed gear wouldn’t let me even touch my dick. There was no zipper. Mos perked up, twitching her cute button nose.

“The yellow worms mean the bear came from behind the yellow line. It’s a bad sign; people will start getting sick soon. Don’t eat any of that bear if you can help it.” A knock at my door took me out of my train of thought.

I opened it to see a group of gobs carrying a pallet of some of the herbs I ordered. Disease cure wasn’t hard to make, thanks to the system and some pricey recipe guides from Blanca. I went to work preparing the ingredients and hitting them with tiny strikes of Heavenly Tribulation. Purple lightning burst from my fingers, removing the parts of the ingredients I didn’t need. At that point I was able to make student and above or tier 3 as far as my Alchemy profession is concerned. Skill synergy was incredibly useful.

There was a skill that alchemists normally needed to learn called Catalyze that would prepare ingredients but no one knew how to gain the skill. Gaining that skill would practically increase the tier of potions I could make by multiple levels up to another tier. Dungeons were needed to drop skills but profession skills only dropped on prime numbered floors.

Alchemy lvl4/9 Tier 1

Four weeks of potion-making hadn’t taken me out of the beginner stage or tier 1. That was ok. I had other ways of improving rapidly.

Heavenly Tribulation lvl5/9 Tier 1

Using a skill continuously in my everyday life increased its experience as I learned more about the skill and its properties. Repetition was the mother of learning, after all.

Tactile Telekinesis lvl9/9 Tier 1

There was still the need to perform a feat to upgrade the tier of my first skill.I worked quickly preparing my ingredients, hoping against hope that an alchemy-based skill would be unlocked. The fire from my caldron burned hot in the room as the ground ingredients melded together under the care of my mana control.

That was another potential skill that I hadn’t figured out how to unlock. My level might not have increased, by my stats and skills have grown by leaps and bounds. I’ve also petitioned to go with a team of goblin soldiers to a nearby dungeon that had been discovered. The ghosts under the kobold levels inside were giving the gobs trouble. Since there weren’t that many enchanted weapons or mages to go around, I was hoping they would take me up on my offer.

I stirred the potion as it went through a series of stages controlled by my mana. First, the ingredients yellowed and then blackened. The bolts of my tribulation lightning burned off more impurities, driving it into a white color. White flecks of waste peeled away from my potion until a red glowing mass of disease cure sat on the bottom of my cauldron. A few minutes later, the mixture turned a healthy shade of green.

“Why aren’t you making a potion?” Mos asked.

I put the mixture into a machine and cranked an iron bar. Solid green pills fell out of the other end of the machine. After giving the pills a look over, they glowed faintly red for a moment before returning to their green appearance.

“These are disease cure pills. While they aren’t perfect, they will keep without rotting longer than potions. They can be given to cattle and other livestock anally.” I said.

“Gross,” Mos said.

…

Scout Chief Gor kept giving me weird looks. The gobs were ready to enter a dungeon overflowing with Kobolds, a race of lizard humanoids armed with mostly stone weapons. Glittering scales from the hissing patrolling males easily revealed their position in the naked forest filled with fall colors. A band of kobolds returned from a successful hunt, hissing at one another while dragging a group of humans into the hole in the ground.

I wanted to get in there and start blasting, but a look from Gor held me in check. “Remember you are to stay at least three gobs or one Hob behind with your head down. If Blonca didn’t pull rank, you wouldn’t be here. Mage’s aren’t useful until we have the first two floors secured.” Gor said.

Some of the gobs snickered at my frustrated expression while I thought about how to use the thunder shock spell on my wand. All spells were most effective when given the form of a shape like an animal. My problem was time I didn’t have the time to study a large animal and experiment with shaping my wand to cast thunder shocks. So, I worked with crickets, grasshoppers, and roaches instead whenever I had the chance. In a month, I was able to cast a single roach at a time with some effort. With my perk, it automatically became two.

The goblin mage in our group could create three fire sparrows per cast that dive-bombed targets. Not only that, his cast speed was incredible. He could string three sets of fire sparrows and have them all dive bomb or harass targets. Compared to his fire sparrow spell, my wand-created thunder roach spell was pathetic. That didn’t go into the alerting sound the roach made when it discharged. Just one might alert the entire dungeon.

My presence added a singular advantage: drops. With my presence, every kobold defeated in the dungeon had a chance to drop coins, gear, and spell scrolls. If I didn’t contribute, it was likely the party wouldn’t get much value until they made it to the lower floors where chests appeared. Maybe this would inspire some pride in me if I wasn’t so useless.

While wearing my gear I barely moved faster than I did before I met Black Rei. That made me a liability in combat. One of the Hobs Blade suggested I spar with him. Unfortunately, I had no idea how to use such a weapon besides sticking them with the pointy end.

I was a peasant not too long ago, and as an alchemist, I was rather mediocre. My growing stats didn’t mean much when I couldn’t fight my way out of a wet paper bag.

The cursed gear needed to go, and the only way to do that was to break it. Unfortunately, it was self-repairing. When I tried to damage it myself, the gear stopped me. Others didn’t have the strength to use the piece of metal I found to damage it. On the bright side, I didn’t add any new gear on top of what I already had, so I didn’t look like an oversized meatball. If that were the case, I would die of embarrassment.

The only way out of my predicament seemed to be to get stronger. Cursed equipment wasn’t insurmountable. From what little information I’ve been able to learn from my own experiments, once I reached 1000 in strength the gear curse will break on its own. The curse was designed to encourage me to reach the stat levels Red required.

“Concentrate. When we take out the lookouts, you will need to take out at least one guard.” Gor said.

I got ahold of myself and withdrew my wand. The stick crackled when I pushed mana into a spell as I formed the image I sought. A single-winged cockroach appeared made of blue bands of electricity. After the first one appeared, spending over 1000MP, I made two more, and they doubled, making six. Most of the power I used was wasted due to using a catalyst. The sparks of electricity from my wand were the discharge of wasted mana 80% was lost without a wand skill.

The twang of bowstrings rang out as targeted kobolds fell one after the other. I pushed my wand at a retreating guard as sparrows made of flames rained down from the goblin wizard in the back. My own cockroaches flew down, ramming into a kobold guard and shocking him to death. I felt a bit of the xp from the fight flow my way, but not enough to matter to a level 23.

Kobold lvl10

I saw one of the dungeon born poke its head out, only for an arrow to slam into its eye.

“Are we going to take any prisoners?” I asked.

Gor snorted. “Dungeon born take a while to break their programming from the dungeon. That could take months we don’t have to spare. Unless a skill shard with monster tamer drops, it isn’t happening.”

I took some notes and updated my plans in my system notebook.

Monster Tamer was a potential drop and a valuable one. It was a skill, profession, and a class. Those who gained all three could lead legions of monsters and often ranked up into the monster lord, light lord, and dark lord class.

It was a little tidbit like that I kept in my back pocket, just in case. There were classes Red sent me through teacher's email in my system that were patched. The chosen one was one such class only limited by the dark lord or demon lord. There were talks about someone gaining both the chosen one or hero class and the dark lord class to double their power. Patches were put into place cutting off the path to one when the other was already selected. Those patches were no longer functional. It was something I kept in the back of my mind.

My sister, if she is somehow saved from the King in Yellow, could qualify for chosen one as a profession or class. All I would have to do was figure out how to give other people system access, something I wanted to test out with Mos but restrained myself.

A tap from Gor knocked me out of my musings. “Pay attention, we’re moving.”

We left the ridge overlooking the dungeon and made our way to the entrance. One of the hob archers pulled a pumpkin-turned bomb out of his bag of holding.

There were two enchanters in Sky Spear, and one managed to crack the code on spatial storage bags. There was no inventory, but it did bring the weight of their contents down to a tenth with a house's worth of storage space. With the loss of adventurers, most of the technology human societies once enjoyed was lost. It's why I lived in a hamlet with an outhouse instead of a home with enchanted toilets.

That was the conclusion I came to after I saw a single human guard waving an iron spear. It was already happening, the brain drain Red warned me about. If that’s the case, then what’s a human to do. Clearly, the falling power would continue to decline, so I joined the rising power. That human town couldn’t even handle a single refugee; worse, they couldn’t handle a refugee with adventurer skills, levels, and perks. If that wasn’t blood in the snow, nothing was.

The pumpkin bomb was lit and tossed in the hole, and we hid on either side of the entrance until an explosion shook the ground. “Go,” Gor yelled as warrior hobs charged in with short swords, axes, and spears. I made three more thunder roaches, which became six and waited for the all-clear. Other gobs collected the drops from the ground, loading them in labeled special bags. So far, everything was going great. Gor placed his big green hand on my back. “Go,” he roared in my ear and I shot into the cave with a leather armored hob in front and at my back.

I watched the nearly 180cm hob goblins dressed for close quarters tear apart poorly armed and armored kobolds as they marched me through the narrow passage into the dungeon proper. 20m in, and my map lit up with 8 rooms, 4 unsearched. In a large antechamber fully controlled by the goblins, a large female kobold was chained up, and one of the hobs was having his way with her. I didn’t want to be him when Gor came through.

“Down the left hall, there is an unsearched room,” I said, and the hobs led me further into the dungeon. One took an ax and cleaved through a door’s hinges and, knocking it through before another, took a pumpkin bomb and tossed it inside. An explosion shook the walls, and the lead hob stepped in, short sword drawn and shield up.

Disoriented kobolds made poor opponents. A kobold leaped out from behind a bookcase, brandishing a club. Purple lightning crackled between my fingers before I lifted them and let the lighting fly. It wasn’t like real lightning; I sought to remove life from the kobold in front of me. Black clouds gathered up my arm before a streak of lightning lashed out. No metal caught the bolt’s attention. It struck viscously, completely unnatural for those who don’t know the rules of the skill. The Hob cut down kobold after kobold, and I fried one, shaking off the explosion with heavenly tribulation.

I learned more about the skill with every use, taking me closer to the next tier.

Heavenly Tribulation lvl6/9 Tier 1

Taking the skill out of an alchemic role was an important lesson. It sought out the traits I disliked in my targets and struck seeking balance. The more I disliked the traits, the harder the technique struck. I think it required a certain mindset to bring out its true power. Contempt seemed to be the power’s favored fuel, like charcoal for a furnace or oven. A shovel of contempt for my opponent directed the skill and gave it power. All I had to do was learn how to love myself again.

A panel opened in the ceiling, and I only saw the flash of scales before a hob moved in and blocked a stone spear with his shield.

“Stop daydreaming; you’ll get yourself killed.” The Hob looked at me through his helmet, showing the whites of his eyes. “I would hate to tell Frog you died.”

I gave the Hob a look over and recognized some features that Mos had.

“Sorry, I’ll work on that.” I lifted my hand and decided the kobold’s ability to stand after trying to kill me was offensive. My heavenly tribulation lashed out, striking the kobold’s legs and bringing the mob to its knees. The moment my lightning cut off, an ax slammed home into the kobold’s neck. I heard a sickening squelch and saw the Hob pull his weapon free. I saw the spine was half cut in two before blood gushed out of the wound.

Skill unlocks worked on Red logic; the goal is the get rich, the first step is to acquire rocks, and the second one was unknown. If it's possible to get to the next step with a skill my class can learn, it will appear to fill in my second step.

That checked out even if Red hadn’t outright told me how it worked. Skills were needed to increase a class above level 50. I had no idea what about my skills would help me break the level cap. A term I’ve found in the system pdfs I have access to. Unfortunately I had no idea how to search through all the information I had to find what I needed. There was no skill appearing to help me fill in that blank. Either I didn’t have the right class, or there was no such skill.

That’s why I was confused about skill shards. When the kobold my hob bodyguard killed dropped a skill shard, I had no idea what to do with it.

Skill Shard

Rank: E

Copper Scales

Minimum Upkeep: 10MPs

Description: Create scales made of copper from mana to protect the body.

It was an obscenely weak skill that could be incredibly useful for me. Drops would always be bent toward my class because I’m the only one connected to the system here. From my research on nights when all I could do was sit alone and look up information, I learned how the system created items. It tore MN particles from corpses and formed items. A portion was taken by the system for upkeep, and the rest was used to create a random item that could benefit the adventurer. Sometimes, when the MN particles were too low, it would create coins or other precious metals instead.

Black Rei made me a system host. That’s why we had drops at all. A hob picked up a scimitar, a sword rumored to be wielded somewhere continents away. I only knew what it was called by the system information. It added shock damage to its slashes. While it would damage the ghosts a few levels down, it wouldn’t do much to them.

“I was hoping for an ax.” The Hob said.

“We might have to run the dungeon a few more times,” I said.

“That could get expensive. We only brought enough mana stones to fuel the dungeon for two repeat attempts. We have two more floors to check before the catacombs open.” Another Hob said.

“Where are the mana stones coming from?” I asked.

“A mine somewhere nearby. You would have to ask an administrator of land resources to find out. Let’s collect the books and search for any hidden treasure.” The Hob said.

My allies didn’t really trust me, not even Mos’s uncle. I was certain Mos was actually a spy but had no proof she was rather hands-off in information gathering. This was still better than the human town. I had food, work, money, and a cut goblin girl, so I couldn’t complain. Already, I had everything I could have wanted before my sister ate my mother.

“Let’s leave the searching for others. I want to take on the next room.” I said.

The hobs grunted but led the way to the next room. I struck the second we entered, frying the nearest kobold while the hobs took the throat out of another. Once again, I couldn’t keep the drops; they were taken by a gob running the loot back to the camp forming outside the dungeon.

I was sure I wouldn’t see a single book for free. I was likely Blonca would charge me to buy any skill shard or piece of gear we found. Even the coins were taken by some goblins and added to the city funds. In essence, I was shilling out resources without being paid.

The disease cures were free because I didn’t have the trust needed to charge them. All potions I sold to the republic were then either sold to their own soldiers or sold at outrageous prices to the burgeoning ruling class. Mos might do most of the shopping, but I have taken some walks and seen what my deal with the goblins has gotten me. 50 stars a week was nothing. While the floor only had a few coppers on it, lower floors would drop more coins with me present.

It wasn’t that I was being used; it was that I felt underpaid for my skills that no one else had.

Was it whiney of me to want compensation for my time? I didn’t think so. I had no real say on the ruling body of the republic because only male goblins who had served in the military could vote on their leadership. My position was contractor, and my council seat was strictly on the contractor council. We were under the goblin craftsman council and had no power to do much more than govern ourselves. The goblin craftsman council decides the purse strings of all crafters and how they could purchase what from the supplies.

I decided enough was enough and reached for a coin on the ground. An ax fell in front of my fingers, cutting a line between my hand and the coin.

“Withdraw your hand, human. Your special treatment ends the moment you steal from the republic.” The Hob said.

“How much am I being paid to generate the drops for this dungeon?” I asked.

The Hob sneered at me. “You volunteered to serve the republic. We aren’t protecting you to watch a human get rich on goblin sweat and blood.” I could only think that if I wasn’t wearing my gear, I could smash this Hob into paste with my fists.

“Let's keep going,” I said after withdrawing my fingers.

I struck the kobolds viscously, seeing the ax coming down so close to my fingers each time. My tribulation lighting struck harder, frying the leather-clad kobolds and shocking them to death. The hobs watched me at every drop as amulets fell, which would decrease my mana cost, boost my mana regeneration, and increase my mana capacity. Skill shards fell on the second floor with copper golems, lightning steps, and chained lightning.

A kobold magician waited in a room on the second floor we entered. It was a massive library filled with books and scrolls. Two chests waited in the corners, and other kobold magicians rose from their seats to join the first. Bolts of blue shot out from their staves as cloaks rustled, and the battle commenced. My hob guards held up their shields as hob crossbowmen crossed into the room, taking shots. I could only think of the loss of xp if one of them managed to kill them instead of me.

The only resource I could reliably take from this place was xp. Unfortunately, we were pinned in the room. An archer poked his head out, and a mana bolt pierced him in the neck. Blood and bone blasted the wall behind the Hob, killing him instantly.

I watched the hobs struggle to keep their shields up and knew for a fact I didn’t want to die here with them. There had to be something I could do. I had tons of mana but no defensive skills or spells to mitigate the risk of stepping into a line of fire.

My eyes widened as a stray mana bolt hit the shield arm of one of the hobs. I rolled to the side as another bolt knocked the shield away, and more mana bolts pierced the Hob's body. The Hob’s back exploded leather armor did nothing.

“How did you get through to the catacombs before?” I asked.

“Blanca led the charge. Now shut up and figure something out, mage.” The Hob snarled.

Kobold Magician lvl20

I raised my hand and felt my Heavenly Tribulation skill. The first time I used it, the skill gathered in a patch of clouds and rained down. The skill didn’t need a point-to-point line of sight to work; all I needed was my contempt for their lives. With that thought, I raised my hand and focused on spreading the storm clouds.

A bolt slammed into my shoulder and barely seared my gear. The hit to my HP was negligible.

Black clouds filled the room, rumbling as a harsh wind took out all the remaining reading lamps. Even shielded by glass cylinders, the winds from my skill snuffed them out. I poured more mana into the skill as the clouds formed and lightning gathered. A roar echoed through the room, cackling madly until I realized it was me.

A bolt of lightning blasted through a kobold’s shield, scorching the reptile. Then another blasted out, circling around the shield of another kobold only to strike it in the back. Five at once arced down, blasting the bodies as my mana drained faster and faster to fuel the skill. It wasn’t a spell and didn’t have the refined power of one. It was an expensive skill with almost no oversight except rage.

I held back my desire to kill the Hob. That was the only thing keeping my lightning from scorching him. Once stray, though would be enough to tear the Hob apart. Heavenly tribulation didn’t act like lightning and certainly didn’t follow any rules of the element. It sought balance, but it didn’t care about the natural world. The tribulation, in its current state, sought out the ruination of my enemies. It chased after what I despised and pierced through it. Already, I could feel how much I was holding the skill back.

Heavenly Tribulation almost had a mind of its own; it wanted to balance out karma far more than it wanted to kill the kobolds I didn’t like. It took a force of will to keep it from simply striking the Hob protecting me down. Karma wasn’t something I’d ever heard about before gaining the skill. But there were actions taken and debts to be settled. That was the essence of what Heavenly tribulation was. It was a force of settling debts permanently. I felt it more killing kobolds than ever.

When the last of the xp flowed into me, I cut the flow of my mana and saw only 100MP remaining. It wasn’t that the skill was expensive; it was that I was using it wrongly. That came at a price much like a karmic debt. Fortunately, I paid it to the skill upfront.

I stood up and stared at the nearly untouched library. Another facet of the skill was a small, delicate knife that cut only what it wanted to cut. Some part of me wanted to call upon it again to kill the goblin, but just as they owed me a debt, I owed them one as well. My quest with the goblins couldn’t be broken so easily. Unwritten rules were keeping me from outright leaving or attacking them. Quests taken were made to benefit both parties and discourage betrayal.

The moment I agreed to the quest and received payment, I was bound to complete my end. Even thinking about leaving was anathema to me. At the same time, Bonca was bound to assist in facilitating my quest.

My MP filled slowly; it could be hours before I was topped off. Even in this dungeon where mana was plentiful, it took time to refill my pool. If we were on the third floor, that would be different.

I looked up in the system. “Why is my mana regen slow?” Outside of low wisdom, I saw something I hadn’t seen before. Mana circulation methods.

While the Hob recovered and more goblins entered and began ransacking the library, I sat in a chair and read more about mana circulation. Tiny thread-like pathways ran through NPC bodies that became clogged over time. Every clog would limit the amount of MN particles an NPC could gather into their bodies and convert them into usable mana. Some people had more of these pathways than others, but they all shared the purpose of making it easier to draw in MN particles. These particles interact with small groups of organs in the body. These tiny mana pathways called roots required potions and meditation to clean out regularly and exercises to enlarge them.

I fell down a rabbit hole of techniques and practices outside the system I hadn’t suspected existed. Blanca didn’t say anything, and there were no mage books available to none goblins. Maybe I was overthinking everything. It could be that I’ve only been a member for a month, and they are still watching to make sure I’m not a spy.

“I hope it was worth it; a good Hob is dead because you had to explore this dungeon.” My remaining hob bodyguard said.

I looked over the piles of loot the goblins were hauling back out of the dungeon. Robes, staves, amor, maces, swords, and spears, all of which appeared enchanted to my eyes.

“Your republic must think so,” I said.

The Hob punched me hard in the face and I stared the monster in the eyes. It was clear the narrative would be disastrous for my reputation. The gobs on the scene were already muttering. “Shune him.” One said.