From Moving Crates to Killing Gods-Chapter 38: Levels

We went back to the obsidian corridor, but instead of going down, we went up. The hallway narrowed, red stones fixed to the ceiling, casting just enough light to see our steps.

"So you know." he said. His voice was cold, indifferent, as if the subject was obvious.

"About what?"

"That we can level up. Grow stronger."

"Oh. Yes, I leveled up."

"Have you told anyone?"

"Yes. Everyone in my cohort... well, actually maybe Finn doesn’t remember."

"That was a mistake." He said ignoring the fact about Finn knowing or not. "You shouldn’t have told them."

We kept walking until we reached another door. The plaque read Citadel Master Chamber. He opened it. I stepped inside a little reluctantly, tense, waiting.

"Why would it be a mistake?"

"Think about the information you now possess. If you were sent into exile tomorrow with only what you know now, and you found yourself desperate, what would you do?"

I let the question sit. No clear answer came.

"Follow the same route. Take as many canteens as I could carry. Use the black water for camouflage."

"You’re a good person." he said. His voice was somber now. "But not everyone has the same clean soul."

The words rang inside my head, trying to understand what he was implying, but no clear answer came.

Then he talked.

"We all turn Level One the moment we’re exiled. We’re so weak that killing a Corruptor to grow stronger, even if an entire generation worked together, would be pointless. We’d all die."

He paused.

"But there’s something else you can kill to level up."

A chill ran down my spine. I hadn’t even considered it.

"Other Exiles." I said. The grim reality settled into my chest. "They could kill each other."

"Yes. There is a way for everyone to grow stronger once they’re exiled. They’d just have to murder each other." His voice was heavy. "This secret has been kept even from the Zeros. We want competition, not slaughter. At least... not again."

"What do you mean again?"

"I’m fifty years old, boy. I was allowed to have children after I returned from exile. To train them. Give them better odds." He paused. "I waited eight years. And in those eight years, I made sure the secret of leveling got lost to history."

He continued.

"I spent eight years ending the cycle. Every exile before that was a massacre. The moment they were transported outside, the Zeros killed everyone else. Trying to get strong enough to fight the Corruptors. The Ones instructed their children to kill without mercy the moment they turned twenty one." His voice dropped. "The only reason I survived my Exile was because my ability allowed me to hide. I watched everyone I knew die. So when I learned the truth, I had to bury it."

"But you still taught your son to use us as bait against the massive corruptor that roamed outside the barrier." I said. Defiant.

"So you know." His tone turned cold. "I taught Darien and Mira about that. Every step toward survival required teamwork. But that final step had no other answer." He looked at me. "Not until now."

"Because the massive Corruptor is dead?"

"Yes and no. You’re the first person who can kill a Corruptor. You’ve changed the equation from stealth and survival to an actual fight." His eyes had something in them, something bright inside them.

"It’s not that simple. I killed it by luck. I don’t have control over my ability. One mistake and I’m dead. I wasn’t trained to fight. I was trained to move crates from a loader to a shelf." I met his gaze. "You can’t expect me to throw myself at Corruptors like a veteran. Like a hero."

"That’s fine." His voice softened. "I don’t expect you to throw your life away. And in the grand scheme, your life holds more value than you can imagine. No one in hundreds of years has felt hope in Argent." He paused. "But you might be able to make them feel that forgotten emotion."

His son was dead. Killed by a plan the person in front of him had designed. And he still looked at me like I was something precious.

I didn’t point that out. I needed his help. He needed mine.

"And how do I become a warrior?"

"Simple." He almost smiled. "You train. Polish your ability until it’s second nature. Build synchronization with your team, they’ll cover what you lack. Learn to handle your ability backlash." He paused. "And when you’re ready, you level up."

I was about to tell him the fact that I couldn’t level up unless I killed something of the same level or stronger than the Massive Corruptor... King Emi. But I decided against it, maybe sharing information so loosely was something that I had to stop doing.

He then continued. "When you reach level 2, the system truly opens up for the first time. Have you seen your stats or skills?" he asked.

"What? Stats—" And in front of me a new blue window appeared.

"Yes." He explained. "Your stats level up as you use them. You can grow your strength if you train with heavy weight. Your agility grows as you practice moving faster and with precision. Constitution increases if you survive a wound or poison. Intelligence grows as you solve puzzles, especially runic ones. Wisdom surges as you get to know important knowledge. And the last one is luck..." He paused for a moment. "It seems to be a stat that grows every time the system wants to, it can be caused by any kind of action."

The words echoed on the room. They went inside my ears, and scattered pieces of that information landed somewhere inside my long term memory, but not most of it.

He continued, as if watching my perplexed face. "If you ever forget this, just focus on the stat window and the system will explain it again..."

I glanced at the window and then closed it. All my stats were at 5.

"No need." I said confidently. "So basically I have to save kids while running, being bitten by a snake, reading a book, solving a puzzle and carrying a heavy weight, right? I can picture that."

"That’s one way to put it." He said, surprisingly okay with my simplification.