Andy in the Apocalypse [LitRPG System Apocalypse] 3.31 Nothing to It

31 – Nothing to It

After putting two points each into Axiomatic Artistry and Axiom of Passage, Andy looked inward, searching his mind for the information the tingles of System-derived mana had planted there. As usual, the knowledge was seamless; the instincts, the mysterious muscle mories—he knew just how to flick his wrist and fingers to better “paint” the axioms in the air—seed to have been there all along.

As for the Axiom of Passage, Andy thought he understood better how to focus his will and how to use the magic to amplify it. To confirm what he already fundantally understood, he read the updated spell text:

Axiom of Passage – Bound: You draw an axiom that declares a valid path exists between two points. For a brief duration, that path may be traversed as though unobstructed. The stability of the passage depends on the environnt; simple barriers yield more readily, while dense or magically reinforced materials allow only fleeting or partial transit. Mana Cost: 125.

He laughed. The only thing that had changed was the cost. Still, the increased mana was doing sothing; it was allowing him to impart his will onto the universe more forcefully. Would it be enough?

His right hand tightened on his spear, and secondary worries ca to mind: what would he be walking into if it did work? He’d be in his new class with nothing but his spear and his various innate abilities to defend himself. “That’s not entirely true…” Andy glanced at the description for his other axiom, reading through it again:

Axiom of Separation – Bound: You draw an axiom that declares a target is not a single, unified whole. For a short ti, its components are treated as distinct rather than continuous, weakening cohesion and even separating them along natural boundaries such as seams, joints, or layered structures if the caster can overco natural resistances. Mana Cost: 50.

What would that spell do if he cast it on a person or a monster? It seed to him that if he managed to break down any part of a living creature into component parts it would be rather devastating. Should he put so Improvent Points into it?

He glanced at his status sheet again—three points left. He wanted to put more points into Perception, still hopeful that if he pushed it beyond natural human boundaries, he might start to gain a noticeable benefit; maybe he’d be able to spot invisible or hidden things or maybe he’d gain insights that would allow him to recognize patterns or…

Andy shook his head, pushing the speculations aside; there were a million ways superhuman Perception might affect him, and he didn’t have the ti to fantasize about them all. Before he spent his last three Improvent Points, he decided the proper course of action was to test his Axiom of Passage again. If he could create a proper opening in the glass box, one that would last long enough for him to pass through, then he could spend points on other things.

Gathering his mana, he lifted his left hand—he felt he could easily scribe the axiom with either hand—and drew his fingers through the air. This ti, the lines ca more quickly to him, his hand moved more fluidly, and the three-dinsional, glowing glyph took shape in just a matter of seconds. In the faintly purple light of the axiom, he watched as the glass wall split. It ca apart with more urgency than before, cracking down the middle and then spreading into a person-sized passage almost imdiately.

Andy watched, his gaze shifting from the shimring glyph to the crack, and he asured its duration by counting, “One-one-thousand, two-one-thousand, three-one-thousand, four—”

The crack shuddered and then slamd shut, and Andy stood there facing a perfectly smooth glass wall. He smiled, nodding. It was enough; he could probably pass through that crack in less than a second.

Satisfied that his escape was secured, Andy sat down to wait while his mana regenerated. Looking at his status sheet, he contemplated his three Improvent Points. He knew he wanted to spend them; he wanted to be as ready as possible when he stepped out of the box, but what was a better priority—Perception or the Axiom of Separation?

He had his spear if he had to fight, but Seraphine knew about his spear, and there were things that could nullify a lee weapon, even one in the hands of a fast, skilled fighter. With three points to spend, he decided to put one into the axiom just to see how the ability changed.

As the tingles spread through his skull, sending little sparks of light through his vision, he pulled up the new spell description:

Axiom of Separation – Bound: You draw an axiom that declares a target is not a single, unified whole. For a short ti, its components are treated as distinct rather than continuous, weakening cohesion and even separating them along natural boundaries such as seams, joints, or layered structures if the caster can overco natural resistances. Mana Cost: 55.

Again, nothing had changed other than the cost increasing. Even so, Andy found new understanding planted in his mind—vague, shadowy mories of casting the spell on living targets. He understood that it could work as a weapon, but that the more he tried to “separate” a living being, the greater the resistance. Still, if he focused on a part of a person or thing, he’d have better luck.

Feeling a little better with his new innate knowledge, Andy turned his attention to Perception. Maybe he’d never given voice to the principle before, but he felt like, as far as advancent was concerned, it was a certified best-practice to improve things that would impact whatever class he had active. His attributes fell into that category. With that in mind, Andy went ahead and put his two remaining points into Perception, pushing the attribute well beyond what he considered “normal” human territory.

This ti, he felt the effects. Andy’s eyes flared with heat, his ears rang, and a fuzzy, tingling sensation took hold in the back of his throat, maybe where his spine t his brain. He was disoriented and lost his balance, falling to his side where he lay, slack-jawed and drooling, as the System did sothing to his mind and body. Slowly, the powerful buzzing at the base of his skull dissipated, but it didn’t disappear; it spread through the rest of his body until even his fingers tingled.

Soti later, Andy blinked his eyes and realized the sensations had passed. He could see clearly, the ringing was gone, and his body felt fine. As he sat up and focused on a System ssage, he realized he felt better than fine. He felt great.

***Congratulations, Andy! You’ve broken through a natural limit for your species. This was possible thanks to your latent bloodline, Echo of the Vanir. Advancing your Perception has pushed your bloodline closer to the surface, bringing it to the status of Mark.***

Hastily, Andy glanced at his status sheet, confirming what the System had told him:

Na: Andrew “Andy” West

Species: Human

Bloodline:Mark of the Vanir

He looked at his hand, flexing his fingers. Were they longer than before? They certainly looked strong and capable, but then, hadn’t he been improving himself in a hundred different ways since day one of the apocalypse? Andy didn’t tend to look at himself all that often, so he wasn’t sure much of anything had just changed. When he stood, though, reality sank in: his pants were a good inch higher, exposing more of his boots.

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“I just grew?”

Suddenly unsure how long he’d lain there with his senses under assault by the System’s mana, he bent to snatch up his spear and turned in a circle, scanning the big glass-walled room. Nothing seed out of place. Staring at the far wall, though, sothing was different. He turned, peering into the glass of the closer wall. With a slow grin, he realized he could see the blurry exterior world better. Sohow, his greater perception was allowing him to penetrate the obscuring effect of the glass.

He couldn’t see clearly, but he could make out the faint shapes of the gray flagstones that made up the floor outside. More than that, the world beyond the glass seed a little brighter. He could make out the faint red hue of the light out there, despite the glass wall’s blue tint. “Wild.”

Andy pushed his bewildered excitent aside; he’d been through enough changes, seen enough magic, that he wasn’t going to let so improvents to his vision—and who knew what else—throw him off. It was ti for him to get out of that damn box. Gripping his spear in one hand, he lifted the other and channeled his mana.

When the Axiom of Passage was complete, the glass wall split, and Andy charged through—and almost imdiately vomited. Apparently, leaping from the dinsion inside the box to the one outside wasn’t easy on a person. It wasn’t a physical reaction; nothing about his body was damaged or altered. It was a matter of perception shifting so rapidly that his inner ear was sent reeling and his guts heaved.

One second he was looking out through a huge glass wall, stepping onto an expansive basalt flagstone, and the next, his foot ca down on what were much smaller bricks. The glass room was gone, and he was suddenly towering over the small glass box.

As he retched, heaving nothing but air out of his empty stomach, Andy saw a shadow approaching. He felt the rush of air as sothing descended toward him, and he spun, adrenaline helping him to curb the urge to retch again as he brought his spear up to deflect whatever was coming at him. The wooden shaft reverberated in his hand as he knocked aside a heavy steel axe-blade.

Andy darted back, taking in his attacker—it was a troll, but not just any troll. It was Leo Rukowski, Seraphine’s emissary. The monstrous man’s mottled green face twisted into a snarl as he growled, “What the hell? Got eyes in the back of your damn head?”

Andy backed away from him, trying to get a better look at his surroundings. He stood in a dimly lit room, lined floor-to-ceiling with those dark basalt bricks. A single, arched opening, maybe five feet wide by fifteen high, led away to his left. The source of the faint red glow was down that hallway. Andy turned back to the troll, and that was when the System further distracted him with a bright yellow ssage:

***You’ve discovered Ashfall Mountain. This is an elite dungeon ant for parties of four. Fight your way to the caldera in order to secure the exit. Good luck!***

“She dumped in a dungeon?”

Leo laughed, his voice harsh and guttural. “Nice guess, asshole. She dumped us into a dungeon.”

Andy despised the creature. If his attempt to turn a goblin army against the sa weren’t bad enough, what he’d heard from Denise and Kent about Leo and his pals betraying their settlent and eating children certainly sealed the deal. He didn’t want to talk to him; he wanted to put him down, but the troll might be his only source of information—his only chance to get so answers. “Why?” he asked, deciding that simple was best.

The troll took a step back, heaving his axe up onto his shoulder as he regarded Andy from fifteen yards away. “I guess to protect herself from you, asshole.”

Andy’s scowl deepened. “Why you, though?”

“Well, she wasn’t about to step into this damn dungeon and be stuck at the bottom, was she?” He nodded at the glass box. “Couldn’t get you out of that thing; didn’t know it would only allow one person in it at a ti. Figured you might find a way out, and decided to let this dungeon handle you.” He shrugged, his wide, bony shoulders lifting his tattered black garnts. “I guess I was disposable. She said she was coming in right behind .”

“Yet you tried to kill ?” Andy snorted, shaking his head.

“Not like we’re friends. Besides, I need the experience if I’m gonna get outta this damn place.” With a grunt, he slid his axe off his shoulder and started circling Andy again.

Sothing didn’t seem right to Andy. The “emissary” hadn’t been using an axe—he’d seed more…powerful, too. “Why the axe?”

“Fuckin’ dungeon won’t let change classes,” the troll growled. Then he spat a yellow wad of phlegm and said, “Quit chatting up, asshole. Let’s do this.”

Andy followed his movents, keeping his spear ready. The troll looked clumsy—big and strong, but awkward with that axe. Why in the world would he enter an elite dungeon in a sub-par class? Seraphine was the thought that ca first to Andy’s mind; the troll had expected one thing and found another when he entered the dungeon. His “boss,” for lack of a better term, had tricked him into taking Andy into a place she didn’t think he’d be able to escape.

Setting Leo’s plight aside, Andy considered how the news might affect him. He was in a class that was only level seven, too. Would the dungeon stop him from changing classes?

Leo lunged at him, hacking his axe down, but he was slow—slower than Jace or Bella, and definitely slower than Andy. In fact, when Andy jabbed out his spear to counter the move, he pierced the troll’s shoulder before the axe even descended. As the troll cursed and stumbled back, Andy frowned, puzzled. Hadn’t he seen the axe swing starting? Was his enhanced perception playing with his mind; had he predicted the attack so convincingly that he’d thought it was already coming?

“Listen, man,” Andy said, circling the growling troll. “You can’t beat with that axe. Maybe—”

Leo roared and charged, and Andy stepped to the side and thrust his spear. Maybe if he’d really tried, he could have avoided a critical blow, but he didn’t try, and his instincts kicked in. He wove the spear under Leo’s left arm, and he punched the long, steel blade between two ribs into the monster’s heart.

As Andy pulled his spear back, Leo’s axe fell to the stone floor with an echoing clang. He slamd his hand to his chest, a stricken look on his face as dark blood pumped between his green fingers. Andy stood ready, well aware of the troll’s uncanny ability to heal, but Leo staggered back, his gaze darting left and right, and then he bolted for the tunnel opening.

For so reason, Andy didn’t want to let him get away. On so level, he probably didn’t want the troll lurking in the dungeon, ready to sabotage him at the worst possible mont. That being said, he gave chase, sprinting after him and easily catching up. Inside the tunnel, he saw the source of the red glow—a crevice was there, maybe ten feet across, and down inside it, under an eye-watering haze of caustic smoke, a river of magma flowed. Leo, despite his pierced heart, picked up speed and leaped, clearly aning to jump to the other side of the crevice.

Again, Andy let his reflexes do their thing, and he stabbed Leo in the back of his thigh, just as he planted his forward foot and jumped. The troll scread, stumbled and fell into the crack, howling in terror and desperation. Shielding his face with his sleeve, Andy squinted over the edge and saw Leo’s body—already blackened as it burned away to nothing, sinking into the magma.

***Congratulations, Andy! You’ve defeated Leo Rukowski, Emissary to the Demoness, Seraphine. Your quest, The Mind Behind the Horde, has advanced, but Seraphine is still at large. Find and stop her before her further plans co to fruition!

As a result of your victory, you’ve advanced to level 8 in your Axiom Scribe class, earning an Improvent Point, 20 maximum mana, and a new bound class spell: Axiom of Ti.

Axiom of Ti – Bound: You draw an axiom that defines the rate at which ti is experienced within a limited context. With a significant expenditure of mana, you may cause a localized region, object, or being to experience ti at an altered rate for a brief duration. This effect can be resisted or countered. Mana Cost: 200.

Andy hastily read the System ssages, then, blinking away the hot, stinging gasses of the magma, he turned and jogged back to the dungeon’s entry room. He coughed a few tis, then turned in a slow circle, studying the room again. There definitely wasn’t another way out of the place.

He walked over to the glass box, wondering how it was supposed to work; it seed to him that there must be another component—a key or sothing. Frowning, he sent it into his storage ring. A panicked thought occurred to him, and he hastily pulled it out. Nothing seed amiss, so he chuckled and sent it back in. He’d been afraid that trying to put one dinsional container into another might prove catastrophic. Hadn’t he been inside the box with his ring already, though? It didn’t seem to matter.

Andy sat down, and, just to confirm his fear, he tried to switch his class to Brimstone Stalker.

***Class change chanics have been blocked by special circumstances in this dungeon. Hopefully, you have a diverse team to rely on!***

“Well,” Andy said, climbing back to his feet and picking up his spear, “guess I’ll be leveling my new class in here.” Unfortunately, “here” happened to be an elite dungeon ant for a team of four. Andy reached into his ring, pulled out an old shirt and tied it around his face, filtering the air he breathed. Spear in hand, he strode toward the tunnel. “Nothing to it but to do it—or sothing like that.”