[1% LIFESTEAL] Chapter 30 - A Step Into Infinity

After his rather short bout, Freddy left a cheering, rowdy audience behind and stepped back into the caves.

The punch had sent a notable healing pulse throughout his body, but not a noticeable one. It was only 1% Lifesteal, after all, and the sheer amount of healing needed to help him recover from the numerous layers of scars and permanent injuries won’t be covered with a single punch.

Still, though, Freddy had forgotten just how good using his talent felt. So, with a pep to his walk, he strode out of the makeshift arena, feeling refreshed. But he most certainly wasn’t feeling good.

Frankly, if he had to fight that same man again, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to win, at least not that easily. Such a trap wasn’t going to work twice, and the moment anyone realized just how bad Freddy was at actual fighting, nobody would let themselves be psyched out like that.

Still.

“Pfff—!” Freddy snorted after making it a bit away from any surrounding people. “Hahahahahahaha! The look on his face when I didn’t move! Ha—! Holy shit, he was like, ‘Aw, fuck, this man gon’ kill me, ain’t he?’ Hahahahahah!”

His laughs echoed around him, even though his stomach was killing him. Indeed, although his little Flowing Strike trick had worked, it wouldn’t become a cornerstone of his fighting style any time soon. His internal organs felt like they had been scrambled, and it wasn’t like he could heal up quite yet.

Still, despite the force of the impact feeling like a damn explosion had gone off inside him, it had done surprisingly minor damage. Hundred Wet Hells was no joke.

‘Now then, let’s go do some actual work.’

***

After quite a bit of looking around, Freddy settled for a relatively secluded area. A worker or two passed occasionally, but it was out of the way enough, at least, that nobody was working beside him.

He settled for a patch of the wall that another worker had already started on. The growth had been stripped, and a roughly two-by-two-meter wall patch had clearly been worked on, but only the surface layer had been removed.

Putting his equipment on the floor beside him, he picked up the pickaxe and lifted it. Flowing Strike worked its way through his arms, and the pickaxe came down with all the might he could muster—only to awkwardly bounce off the uneven surface and wrench itself out of Freddy’s arm, pulling on one of his forearm muscles.

“Ow, what the—?”

Was this wall just that damn hard?

The noise of the impact had been deafening, and he could still hear the echoes through the cave.

Picking his tool back off the ground, he started again; this time, he swung without using a Flowing Strike. It was pretty damn tricky. His missing ring finger on his left arm made holding the handle a bit clumsy, and if the pickaxe landed at an odd angle, it would just twist or ricochet off. Surprisingly, even the fact that he was missing some toes was a hindrance. He struggled to focus his force correctly, as getting into a proper stance felt impossible.

With some practice, however, he was starting to get the hang of it. Every subsequent swing landed a bit more precisely, and before long, he was transferring the force into the wall instead of his arms. Every swing landed with a metallic cling, and sparks flew off. But he made almost no progress.

The wall was hard, and Freddy was beginning to suspect that this place had been given up for a reason. A few shards of rock chipped off, and as far as he could tell, nothing about them marked them as ore of any kind.

A tiny shard of rock clinked off and hit him in his exposed throat. It didn’t make him bleed, but it startled him somewhat.

Given his slow progress, he started to suspect that he was doing it all wrong. Pulling the guide out of the strap on his toolbelt, he went to the tools section, which he skipped entirely on his first read-through.

“Aaah, okay.”

Apparently, slamming the pickaxe right in the middle of pure rock wasn’t a good idea unless you had substantial force behind it. The goal was to strike where the stone's structural integrity was weakest—seams, bends, nooks, and places where rock protruded.

A cursory glance at the almost smooth stone surface revealed no such weaknesses. Was this patch of stone really just too damn hard? He’d seen other workers do it, and while it took some force, it wasn’t rare to see chunks of stone falling off.

Too lazy to read through the plentiful text in the guide, he decided to try something. Leaving the pickaxe aside, he picked up the sledgehammer.

Flowing Strike yet again coursed through his arms, and with the weight of the sledgehammer, his dense body, and the momentum of the ability, the tool landed with a resounding thud that instantly broke off a large chunk of wall. While it looked like the entire stone surface had collapsed, it was a relatively thin layer. Still, it was progress, and with it being removed, Freddy was beginning to spot some of those weaknesses the book discussed.

After grabbing the pickaxe and chunking a few chips off, he revealed a large crack perfect for the wedge he had brought.

He had brought the chisel—a small piece of metal meant to be held in one hand while he struck its butt end with a small hammer, which he failed to bring with him. Putting that aside, he grabbed the wedge. It was a small, triangular piece of metal meant to be placed into cracks and then slammed with a sledgehammer. Its purpose was to force large fragments of stone apart.

So, he promptly put the wedge into the crack and swung the sledgehammer. He completely missed the wedge, and the sledgehammer slid down the rock, swinging just slightly to the right of his leg.

Freddy stood frozen, aware that he had nearly just smashed his shin into a million bits. Lifting the tool again, he repeated the movement, slightly slower this time, and managed to hit the wedge. He did so repeatedly until finally when he felt confident enough, he used Flowing Strike.

It landed right on the small piece of metal, to even his own surprise, but the rock didn’t break off. In fact, most of the force had been transferred right back into his arms, and he felt his bones strain to their limits.

After cursing and swearing for a while, he repeated the damn movement, having to swing seven times until, finally, a massive boulder broke off from the wall, nearly crushing his foot as it tumbled down.

As he barely avoided the tumbling piece of rock, he thought that maybe the workers shouldn’t have as much freedom as they do.

***

Freddy cursed his decision not to bring the foldable cart with him just because it had looked inconvenient to carry along. The ‘weight-reducing’ part of the bag was, by no means, a ‘weight-eliminating’ function. Shit was still heavy when placed inside, maybe seventy percent less, but that wasn’t as much as it seemed when a couple of larger pieces of ore already became heavier than Freddy himself, even after the reduction. He began to realize that fulfilling his quota would take several trips back and forth.

Or, well, that was what he had thought.

After making his way back to the camp, Freddy placed the bag on the counter, where a burly man grabbed it and emptied it on the floor behind him. He picked up the pieces inside, one by one, and without even looking, threw them into one of the baskets behind his back.

Once he was done counting the ores, he turned to Freddy and said, “That’s around four-thousand two hundred. What’s your name?”

Freddy stared at the man, utterly dumbfounded. Glancing at the clock above him, he realized it had only been around seven hours since he started working. And this bag was a fraction of the work he had actually done. He had picked up a few interesting pieces of rock without even knowing what they were, and apparently, that spot was quite lucrative.

“Freddy Stern,” he said.

The man wrote something down and shooed him away.

Well then. That left him with most of the day free to do whatever he wanted. Freddy left the line, carrying his equipment back to his tent. It all left him so… confused. But maybe that was the point? Perhaps this entire expedition was designed to disarm the workers and give them a sense of safety and ease so they wouldn’t riot or protest.

That way, they need less staff to keep them under control. Or maybe they were doing it this way to encourage people to volunteer to stay even after their ‘debts’ had been paid off?

Something about this whole thing kept gnawing Freddy. Maybe he was just being overly paranoid, but he couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was more to this expedition than met the eye.

Either way, his goals didn’t change. He still had a plan to make.

After leaving practically all his equipment in the tent, leaving just the uniform and the shoes on, and taking only the baton and dagger for self-defense, he promptly returned to the caves. And then, he began exploring them.

The immediate surrounding area, also called the ‘green zone,’ was the same for the most part. Clean of growth, constantly populated by workers, numerous tunnels boring into solid stone, and many signs detailing directions, section characteristics, warnings, etc.

The so-called 'yellow zone' began once one stepped out of the immediate area. It was the area that had already been explored, mostly, but it hadn’t been processed as thoroughly as the green zone, so some dangers might still be present.

What characterized the yellow zone were numerous holes in the walls, patches of stripped area, fewer signs and directions, and slightly less pronounced illumination. The plant growth was present but clearly disturbed by the constant walking of the many workers looking to go out further.

Past the yellow zone was the ‘red zone.’ It was the part of the cave that had already been contacted in the sense that people had explored it and made their way through it. Much of the vegetation was removed in these parts through fire or some other specialized talent, although the degree of recovery varied drastically. Some of the more recently claimed sections were still charred, while other areas, notably those with few promising ore deposits, were already beginning to be reclaimed by nature.

What characterized the red zone, more than any of the other characteristics, was a distinct sense of danger. Noises that just barely crawled above the limen of hearing, shifting, subtle vibrations, and bugs. A lot of bugs. Freddy wasn’t in a rush to explore the entire red zone quite yet.

And finally, the absolute frontier, one that Freddy had already made contact with earlier that day—the ‘black zone.’

As he stepped past the charred remains of a recently claimed black zone, he made it down an open cavern that continued getting narrower and narrower the deeper he went. Eventually, the walls closed in on him, and just past a turn, he reached the entrance to another cavern. One that hadn’t been claimed.

This was the part of the caverns that hadn’t been reached yet, and what waited inside was anyone’s guess. Freddy couldn’t stop himself from gazing at it, peeking behind the wall. The mere sight of the overgrown, thick, clearly untouched caves inspired a sense of awe and excitement. That wasn’t just the wilderness. It was the far beyond, a step out into the untamed infinity of the interspace.

It was sort of like looking into the night sky, but if one could take a stroll among the stars. The sheer weight of a world that seemingly had no limit to its size was overwhelming, and gazing at the entrance to a maze one had little to no hope of escaping from felt like staring into the maw of a beast preparing to swallow one whole. What all could be waiting in there? How many beings, unknown treasures, perhaps other civilizations were there?

Humanity had already contacted several sapient species; hell, even Freddy had when he encountered those little creatures. But most seemed rather primitive, with the most advanced species being the Khorks, a species of swine-men that had reached a quasi-medieval level of development.

Putting such idle thoughts aside and turning the fuck back to get away from this very hazardous area, Freddy continued his exploration.

Eventually, he felt mostly satisfied. The underground was perilous, yes, but it was clearly maintained rigorously. He hadn’t spotted any monsters, so, at least, those didn’t seem to be an ordinary threat one would encounter daily.

The biggest possible threat, actually, seemed to be the unpredictable structural integrity of the caves.

As he walked past a bald, old man hammering away at a wall, he became the unfortunate witness to one such accident. A major chunk of the wall broke off, falling onto the man. He managed to deflect most of the weight with his left arm, but the momentum behind the impact shattered his forearm and injured the man’s back and knocking him down to the ground.

Freddy calmly observed the wall, making sure it wouldn’t collapse further. Once it showed no signs of doing so, he helped the man up and carried him down a part of the cave. No words were exchanged between them. The injured man could only produce pained grunts and effortful, deep breaths.

Eventually, several others spotted them, and a staff member was called. They took the man off Freddy’s arms, walking away without a thanks, while Freddy walked away without any requests.

The very least he could do was give others motivation to help him out the same way if he ever found himself in such a situation. But he wasn’t planning on remaining weak or fragile.

Freddy walked away from the commotion and briefly entered the netherecho, ensuring he appeared on his shoulder where he was at least partially hidden from danger.

The leafy floor of the cavern turned into a beautiful painting of lush, natural growth. Numerous wisps of ether flashed into existence around him. While many were of earth and nature variants, there were a few wisps of water, innumerable wisps Freddy couldn’t even begin to recognize, and even a few of the fire affinity. There were so many, in fact, that Freddy could barely see.

That was hardly an issue in the netherecho, thought. Freddy merely willed himself to ignore their existence, and they vanished out of his sight.

Several vestiges popped up around him. One looked like a relatively anthropomorphic female wearing a leafy dress and lazing around on the floor. Slightly to its side was a small rock with roots growing through it. And behind Freddy was what appeared to be a rather large stone golem. It took the form of a muscular man, and it repeatedly flexed as if looking itself over in an imaginary mirror.

‘Shit.’

Seeing a remnant the instant he checked the cavern netherecho gave Freddy a nasty sense of foreboding. The creature noticed him almost instantly.

“Who is you, pussy? Weak and fragile!” It said in a rough, manly voice. Then, it pointed a finger at its chest. “Me solid. Rock solid! Stone hard and strong!”

A concept of solidity, Freddy guessed, but it could also be something like strength through hardness? It was difficult to tell what precisely. And he certainly didn’t care enough to wait for it to attack him. He left the netherecho immediately, quickly moving to another area and rechecking it.

While, for the most part, Freddy was after an area rich in water wisps, he was also doing his best to check every vestige he came across. They didn’t necessarily have to be connected to water to be of value to him. He had maxed three tempering techniques, growing their shells to the peak of stage zero.

It was far from unusual for martial artists to have several tempering techniques, but having three while still being a one-star was definitely out of the ordinary. With three tempering techniques, Create Water, Hydraulic Flex, once he created it, Flowing Strike, and one more ability he desperately wanted to develop, that meant he had seven powers to actively work on.

For most people, that would take too long to grow while still a one-star, and it wasn’t worth the effort. Ascending as fast as possible was generally much better for one’s lifespan, given the immediate power boost. But Freddy both wasn’t in a rush to ascend, given that he was forbidden from doing so and had an inordinate amount of essence to work with.

When one ascended up a rank and attained a new star, their talent evolved with them. While this was relatively unpredictable, there were numerous methods to skew the direction in which the talent would grow.

The first was accomplishments, which generally improved the quality of one’s talent. But the second one was equally important.

Depending on which abilities one had, one's talent would generally evolve to accommodate said powers. This didn’t have to be anything big, but sometimes, a tiny change to the nature of one’s talent could make a world of difference.

There were known cases of non-combat talents becoming combat talents, although it was extremely rare, and the talent was rarely anything special. That wasn’t the thing that concerned Freddy, however.

The number of abilities one had didn’t make much of an impact on the direction of the talent. If they were of a similar nature, that was. But if one had a collection of drastically different abilities with little synergy between them, that could dilute the direction of their talent.

For this reason, discarding any abilities one didn’t actively incorporate into their fighting style was recommended, and Freddy would be doing precisely that to Squirt and Frog Leap.

That would leave him with three tempering techniques to develop his body, a movement ability in the form of Hydraulic Flex, an offensive ability in the form of Flowing Strike, a utility ability in the form of Create Water, and a special ability he would do his best to attain.

While he had no active defensive powers, seven was still nearly twice as many as the standard four archs worked on before reaching their second star.

Eventually, he stepped into a particularly overgrown and moist part of the yellow zone. And a single, brief step into the netherecho revealed precisely what he had been looking for.

It was time for his tempering techniques to receive an upgrade.