Two weeks had passed since Jalel’s death, with little gained other than a couple levels for each of them and no results in terms of a way out. Kajit had also been very quiet ever since Riven had denied her request, ever since he’d said he had more important things to do at the mont. She had yet to show up again at all, actually, which was a welco thing in Riven’s opinion.
They’d never found the boat Jalel had once spoken of, the one that was supposed to have been tethered to an outcropping of rock on the river of blood that traced itself through the city. Perhaps this was because Jalel hadn’t specified which river of blood, as it was a far larger area than they’d anticipated, with many waterways branching off the main channel. They’d wandered aimlessly trying to find an exit, killing or running from undead and demon spawn alike when they weren’t scavenging off the battles between different monsters.
The things he’d learned in that ti were quite interesting.
First off, there was actually a way to see HP (health points), MP (mana points), or SP (stamina points) even though they were usually hidden. Athela was insistent that if they found soone that had attained an Identifier class title, these people would be able to join a party and allow visualization of such things. These identifiers at higher class tiers were also able to give a lot more detailed information concerning the durability of items, the tiers of said items, the estimated value of those items, and various other things that normal people with no class title or other class titles could not see. It was apparently commonplace for guilds, armies, or explorers to incorporate an Identifier into their journeys to get more accurate reads on their enemies.
Then Riven ca across a lich one day in the process of resurrecting the dead. Not just raising it to beco an undead itself, but actually resurrecting the creature. He hadn’t realized that even possible until now, and he had gawked like a small child on Christmas when he’d learned that if he ever beca powerful enough, he too would be able to perform feats such as that if given the right Athela glanced Riven’s way with a raised leg. “I believe it’s still your turn?”
He nodded and wiped the sweat off his brow while stepping over a partially broken skeleton. “Mine.”
Riven’s fingers clenched into a tight fist as red ribbons of magic drew up the length of his arm to his right bicep, licking his skin and smoldering as the mana was condensed and prepared for a strike.
The blood magic imdiately bristled, streaked through the veins of his forearm and into his fingertips—and his mind hod in on the intended target. It only took a few seconds, and the ghoul was still ten feet away from him as he let the magic soar through the air like a crimson torpedo. In an instant, the monster’s body ripped apart in a blur—tearing into the shrieking, bloodthirsty creature with a clean hole the size of Riven’s thigh carved out of its chest and left shoulder.
The blast ripped the undead creature backward, flipping it over and spraying black blood everywhere while it shrieked. It slamd into the ground with a wet splat, lying broken on the floor from the aftershock of the magic and only letting out low groans.
Riven snorted, then casually walked up to the monster—lifted his boot—and slamd it into the creature’s head. He repeated this two more tis until his heel went through the skull and into the groaning undead’s brain.
[You have landed a critical hit. Max damage x 2.]
[You have grown one level. Congratulations!]
“Another critical?” Athela asked curiously with a paw to her mandibles as if in thought.
Riven chuckled and lowered his hand, accessing his character sheet to assign the stat points to Intelligence. “Yep. I an, I did kick its skull in.”
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