39. Locke #4
“Oh, fuck yeah,” I say, as the Shard and Harrow Coins automatically add to my inventory.
Normally, I’d have to add them myself, but whatever Cipher must have done took out any of the extra work.
I drag out the Arctic Smite battleaxe. As I hold it, the head of it crackles with ice, and small snowflakes dance around it as I move it.
The wooden handle lights up with strange blue symbols I don’t know as I hold it, and a zing of power flows through me.
“STRENGTH: 14,” flashes across my notifications before I close it and brace myself.
“Gotta go, Lockey Poo!” Steve says. “Stay golden!”
He disappears and reappears in front of Vesper, and Debbie turns back to me. Despite the pain in my body, I grin and brace myself.
“Here, Debbie, Debbie,” I coo, raising my new battleaxe.
She barrels through the snow at me and despite my newfound weapon, she hits me hard enough to knock the wind from my already painful lungs.
STRENGTH: 15
“Ow,” I grunt, dragging myself to my feet. “Mother fucker.”
Debbie rushes toward me and I have exactly two seconds to raise the battleaxe and slam it into her shoulder before we both go flying backward away from each other.
I leap to my feet, an influx of adrenaline slamming through my body so that it’s me who’s rushing Debbie now, screaming as I slam the battleaxe into her one hit after another.
Bones break. Blood spurts. She howls in anger as she tries to fight back, but seems to be losing strength.
All the while, my strength goes up and down, changing with my skill and buffs.
Vesper is screaming something, but I can’t hear her over my own desperate battle cry.
Debbie stops fighting back, but I keep hitting, painting the snow red, fighting for my life, fighting for Vesper’s life. I scream, and scream, and scream, and hit, and hit, and hit.
ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED
Congrats. You killed little Debbie. Better grab your loot and get out of here before big Deborah shows up. She won’t be happy to see her baby sister dead even if she does respawn! You spilled enough blood to make a horrifying Jackson Pollock painting!
REWARD: New fine leather armor! The breastplate and shoulders are made of moose hide and it’s lined with little Debbie’s snow-white yeti fur to fight the cold, you horrible monster, you!
I swipe away the notification and another pops up.
NEW INVENTORY AQUIRED:
FINE LEATHER YETI FUR ARMOR
15 HARROW COINS
2 SHARDS
HEALING POTION WITH 3 SERVINGS
I grab the potion out of my inventory and click off the notification. One final notification box pops up.
NEW TIER UPGRADE AVAILABLE
I wheeze as the pain starts to fall back in and pop the cork off the healing potion before I read the upgrade notification.
Vesper comes scrambling over to me. She’s saying something, but I can’t hear her over the ringing in my ears.
The first taste of the potion is bitter and makes my gag.
Once I take the full serving, warmth starts to spread through my body and the pain blessedly numbs.
“Thank the Harrow,” I croak, pressing a hand to my head and offering it to her. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine,” she chokes. “Are you—”
“I’m okay,” I choke out. “I can take a few hits.”
“A few hits?” she repeats. “Locke, she beat the shit out of you. I thought you were going to die.” She glances at the battleaxe in my hand. “Where did you get that?”
I hold it up. “Cipher managed to get us a mysterious Luxe benefactor lady. She sent a loot crate.” I look at the notification again. “It says I can level up.”
Her eyes widen. “Already? Don’t you need—”
“A thousand XP? Yeah,” I choke out, cracking my neck. “I got four hundred XP in this fight.”
She gasps. “You’re serious?”
I nod and click the notification open on my interface.
NEW TIER UPGRADE AVAILABLE
TIER UPGRADE REQUIREMENTS:
1000 XP
5 SHARDS
20 HARROW COINS
A SINGLE FEMUR BONE
TIER 2 BONE brEAKER – CARTILAGE CRANK
Wastrel, peak
The first laugh comes when they snap their own wrist, only to hit harder with the next swing. Bones warp. The cartilage stiffens and grows jagged. Their laughter is not joy, but the rush of the marrow’s heat burning through their—
I exit the menu and look down at Debbie. “Sorry, Debbie,” I say before I start chopping at her hip.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Vesper shouts, leaping back as I hack off Debbie’s leg.
“I need a femur bone,” I answer. The moment I break the leg free, I start hacking below the knee, smashing it apart. “To level up.”
She covers her mouth. “Surely, there’s a better way—”
“I’m not taking yours,” I growl, starting to cut the meat off the bone. “This is the only option. It’s dangerous not to level up.”
“Did you read it all this time? What if—”
“Don’t need to,” I grunt. “I gotta be stronger to protect you.”
I pull the bloody femur bone free and stick it in my inventory.
Then I open the notification again and accept without reading the rest of the menu.
I don’t care what abilities I get as long as I’m stronger, as long as I can better protect Vesper.
I will make sure she doesn’t ever fear death if I can help it.
I will make sure I’m strong enough to take on any enemy.
As long as she keeps smiling at me.
“Locke—” she starts, her expression pinched with worry.
NEW STAT UPGRADE
TIER 2 - CARTILAGE CRANK
Wastrel, peak
STRENGTH: 17
AGILITY: 12
VITALITY: 12
WILLPOWER: 11
CHARISMA: 8
LUCK: 10
FRACTURE POINTS: 5. GAIN +5% DAMAGE AND +2% DAMAGE RESISTANCE
CORRUPTION: 15%
CURRENT BUFFS:
Immune to cold damage for another 2 hours and 13 minutes
+2 to strength while holding the Arctic Smite
Adrenaline rushes through my body as the new stats settle into place.
My shirt tightens around my shoulders, as if the muscle there grows with the increased strength.
I roll my shoulders, settling into the feeling coursing through them.
Yeah. This is fucking good. My body hums with power, strong and sure.
And then beneath that, there’s something else.
Something . . . hungry. Something I don’t want to look at too closely yet.
I roll my shoulders again and tuck away the Arctic Smite now that the fight is over.
My strength falls back to fifteen. I’ll be the protector.
I can now. Grinning, I reach over and grab Vesper, lifting her onto my shoulders before she can say anything.
It’s as easy as lifting a feather now that my strength is so high.
“Locke! What the hell? I can fucking walk!” she growls, but her fingers dig into my coat, holding on tightly, so she doesn’t fall.
“Let him,” Svetlana declares. “The faster we get out of this frigid hell, the better.”
“I knew those arms were so strong,” Steve coos. “Lockey Poo is such a romantic. Ugh! Look at him! With these big, strong, bulging muscles. Like, pick me up next, Bone Daddy!”
With Vesper settled on my shoulder, and despite her protests, I start to run through the knee-high snow.
It’s easier with every step.