BOOK 10: CHAPTER 31: THE UBIQUITY OF DOGS AND CATS

“What’s your plan?” asked Kurik as he settled onto a fallen log overlooking the beach. With the sun dipping below the horizon, the sky had been cast in various hues of orange and purple, which reflected on the sea in ways to which the dwarf suspected he would never truly acclimate.

They just didn’t have sunsets like that back home.

But until he’d come to Earth, his life had been a long string of hardships predicated on his clan’s survival. So, even if there was beauty to be seen on his home world, he’d been in no position to appreciate it.

Oscar, who lay on the sand, his eyes closed and his fingers laced behind his head, answered, “I don’t know.”

The man had an uncanny knack for relaxation. So long as he thought he was safe, he could completely shut down. The dogs were the same. Kurik had witnessed them ripping enemies apart with a ferocity usually reserved for monsters, so it was quite an oddity to see them frolicking in the surf, chasing one another around like they hadn’t a care in the world.

Kurik wished he could emulate even a fraction of that carefree attitude.

Instead, his mind was a jumble of fears. Some came from his experiences in the Trial of Primacy, where he and the others had fought through each obstacle put in their way. At the time, he’d taken it all on the chin and continued forging ahead, but in retrospect, it had taken its toll.

For months afterwards, he’d found himself unable to sleep properly. And when he managed to knock himself unconscious – usually with one of Biggle’s potions – his slumber was plagued by nightmares about hordes of undead, angry yetis, and a host of other monsters like the wraiths.

More often than not, he awoke in a cold sweat, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

That, more than anything else, was why he’d been so hesitant to get closer to Carissa. He was so ashamed of his weakness, and he certainly didn’t want to show it to someone whose company he very much craved.

Eventually, she’d worn him down, though. And her presence in his life had been a constant comfort. Even if she frequently nagged him about his unhealthy work habits. She had a point, of course. He worked himself too hard. But that was the best way to keep his fears at bay.

Because there was always someone out there who would want Ironshore for themselves. Or the grove. It had happened twice so far – with the orcs and the dark elves – and Kurik knew enough about people to recognize that history would repeat itself. Sooner or later, they would come.

And he wanted to be ready.

That was why he’d spent so much time building, then reinforcing, then redeploying Ironshore’s defenses. The city was not impregnable. As a Sapper, he knew that no fortress could truly make that claim. He couldn’t change that reality. But what he could do was ensure that any invader who chose to attack Ironshore would be forced to pay a gruesome price.

It was the same with the grove, though those mines he and Nerthus had built on the outskirts of Elijah’s domain were some of his finest creations. They weren’t just deadly. They took inspiration from some of Elijah’s abilities, bursting into a tangle of vines that wrapped around any intruder, dragging them underwater and inflicting a host of afflictions on those unlucky people. Anyone short of ascension would be killed almost instantly.

Even those knocking on the door of demi-god status would be inconvenienced.

That was the advantage of traps and the primary reason he loved them so much. Their power was directly correlated to the amount of time and effort he put into their creation. Sure, there were limits based on his level and the ambient ethera, but so long as he had time to set his traps properly, Kurik could punch well above his level.

But now he had a decision in front of him, and one he’d been putting off for almost two months. He told himself that he hadn’t ascended because he wanted to augment his Legacy via cultivation, and he did. But he’d already hit a wall by reaching the second tier in every aspect. It would take years of effort to take it any further, and that was with the ideal cultivation environment provided by the grove and supported by aids like Biggle’s potions and Elijah’s soap. 𝙧𝓪ΝỌβЁ§

If he was honest with himself, the issue stemmed from Elijah himself.

Or rather, from how he’d altered Kurik’s path. When he’d come to Earth, he had expected to spend a couple of decades slowly hunting his way to ascension. Back then, he’d signed up as a scout, and he’d quickly risen to the top of their ranks.

Then he met Elijah, and everything changed.

It started with the delaying tactics they’d employed against the orcs, where he’d gained more levels in a week than he otherwise could have in a month. But it hadn’t ended there. The First Battle of Ironshore was even more lucrative – a fact which left him feeling a little guilty – and the Trial of Primacy had truly put him on the path of an elite.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Since then, Kurik had been trying to slow down. To take hold of the world around him. But it felt like every step he took just sent him further down that road. And now he was on the verge of ascension, less than a decade after arriving on a newly touched planet, and with nothing going for him but a can-do attitude.

It was madness, as evidenced by the options set before him. The notification laying out his choices had been scorched into his mind, rarely leaving his thoughts. He’d been afforded twenty options, though there were only three that he would consider – largely because the others were mostly deviations from his current class or because they were just lower grade versions of the ones that truly interested him.

Most people would have been elated with his options. They wouldn’t have hesitated to choose an evolution so they could start the grind all over again. And in a lot of ways, Kurik wanted to do just that. After all, he enjoyed growing more powerful as much as anyone else.

Yet, he still hesitated, largely because he knew just how many people had chosen bad paths simply because that was what was available at the time. And with his options, that danger was much more obvious – because he knew that they had been subjected to outside influences.

The names alone were enough to tell him that he’d started down a road he’d never expected to travel. Briarsmith. Rootwarden. Thorned Saboteur.

All three were Exotic, which was already far more powerful than he could have ever expected. Back home, anyone who’d ascended with those choices available to them would have been marked as a future elite and molded into one of the clan’s most powerful assets.

As he sat there, one of the dogs – the little one that could breathe fire – trotted up to Kurik and leaped into his lap. As he scratched behind the ugly-cute creature’s oversized ears, Oscar remarked, “He likes you.”

“Always had a way with dogs.”

“You had dogs on your world?” Oscar asked, sitting up.

“There’re dogs on every world. Cats, too. Some are bigger. Some smaller. Some have scales. But they’re always around. Same with rats and a few other beasts,” Kurik explained. “As a boy, I had a char dog kind of like this little one.” The small dog growled in displeasure at the mention of his size. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with bein’ small. Just accept it and make the most of your size.”

The dog settled down.

“Dogs and cats on every world,” Oscar mused. “I like that.”

“And rats. Don’t forget those bastards.”

“Hmm.”

With that, the man went silent, and Kurik’s attention turned back to his choices of class evolution. Or more importantly, what they represented. For one, the fact that they were all Exotic meant that his Legacy was impressive. That wasn’t surprising – not exactly – but it was gratifying to know that his efforts hadn’t gone to waste.

But he was far more concerned with the shift in his path. Or rather, the increasing prominence of his nature attunement. It was not his most dominant attunement, but it wasn’t that far off, either. So, wrapping his entire class around nature was a daunting prospect.

He was no Druid, after all. Nor was he like Miguel, who had no issues tying himself so tightly to the grove. Instead, he was his own dwarf, and as such, he balked at the notion of latching onto the grove.

But he couldn’t really refuse, either. The difference between an Exotic and an Uncommon class was stark, and not only regarding the attribute bonuses awarded for each level. The abilities and spells would be much more potent as well.

No – he couldn’t turn the classes down. Perhaps he could continue to work for other choices, building his Legacy in a different way. But even if that worked – no guarantees there – it would take years.

“You seem pensive,” Oscar said.

“I am.”

“Maybe I can offer an outside perspective.”

Kurik frowned. He respected Oscar. The man was powerful in his own right, and what’s more, his demeanor made him an easy person to get along with. It was a touch laconic, a little wild, and wholly honest. Kurik could get behind those traits.

So, he explained his dilemma to Oscar.

“Which one is most powerful?” Oscar asked.

Kurik answered, “I ain’t sure. The attribute bonuses are basically the same. But that ain’t the point. I ain’t part of the grove. I ain’t a Druid or a Green Warden or whatever nonsense class that boy took. Nature ain’t even my primary attunement.”

“So?”

“What if it holds me back?” he wondered aloud. “What if it puts me down the wrong path. Back home, I’d’ve had my elders to guide me. Here, it’s just me and my own thoughts. And it ain’t right.”

“I think that is the price of being a frontrunner,” Oscar stated. Then, he added, “I had a different sort of choice for my evolution. I could have had more power, but at the cost of my humanity. I was not strong enough to make that choice. Yours is a different leap of faith.”

“How so?”

“How much do you believe in Elijah?” Oscar asked. “That is the question, isn’t it? These classes might not officially tie you to the grove, but they also might do just that. Whichever case, they will put you on that path. You’re putting at least part of your fate in his hands.”

He wasn’t wrong, and that was at least part of the problem. Without Elijah, his attunement to nature was average at best. But with the grove, that average attunement became something much more impactful. So, if something happened to Elijah – and subsequently, the grove – it would severely hinder Kurik’s development.

“I don’t rightly know the answer to that question,” he admitted.

“If you want my opinion, I would tell you to have faith in him. He is unique. Powerful in ways I can’t comprehend. The pack senses it. So does anyone with a modicum of strength. He is special, and those who recognize that and support him will reap the benefits,” Oscar posited. “The world needs him. That is why I am here.”

Kurik looked away, then scratched his beard. It had grown longer over the past few months, mostly because that was how Carissa liked it. He couldn’t say no to her.

“I thought you were here ‘cause you needed a rest.”

Oscar shrugged. “I won’t deny that was one of the reasons. But mostly, I’m here because I recognize that, before this is all said and done, the grove – and Elijah – will need me. I intend to be there when that happens.”

“I see.”

With that, Oscar pushed himself to his feet and called for the dogs. “I am going to hunt,” he said. “Would you like to come with me?”

Kurik shook his head. “I need to figure this evolution out.”

“Very well. I hope you make the right choice,” Oscar said with a nod. Then, with the entire pack in tow, he set off across the island and to the mainland. In the meantime, Kurik remained in place, watching the sun set as he pondered his future. Even when night fell, he still hadn’t made a proper choice.

Only a few hours later did he finally make his decision. So, with that in mind, he picked himself up and headed back to Ironshore. It was time for him to evolve his class.