Read Novel Full Chapter 1276: Great Progress
Chapter 1276: Great Progress
Author: Synchra has been changed so that the Vitality she gives Quinlan is not dependent on being charged. The last Chapter has been rewritten accordingly. The logic behind the decision is explained in the text below. As always, thank you for all the amazing support!
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[Name: Quinlan Elysiar]
[Race: Primordial]
[Level: 44 ➣ 46. XP: 1,935,084 / 13,410,682]
[Health Points: 3019 ➣ 3056 ]
[Mana Points: 3488 ➣ 3713]
[Vitality: 201 ➣204]
[Strength: 143 ➣ 145]
[Agility: 150 ➣ 153]
[Magic: 233 ➣ 248]
Quinlan has already felt the horror-inducing nature of how the levels worked in this world, namely, each requiring 30% more than the last, but it was getting plain ridiculous right about now.
He needed eight million XP to reach level 45, but now, to get to level 47, it took more than thirteen million points.
He spent many hours killing elite guards and large quantities of lesser soldiers, all of whom gave him tremendous amounts of XP. The fact that he only got so much from this night told Quinlan that he needed to be very deliberate with his Attribute allocation.
As such, he put all into Magic. He was getting irritated that Morgana, who should’ve been a lesser mage, was having the upper hand simply because of her higher Magic stat... and perhaps a bit greater experience.
But the main point was the Magic stat difference. She simply overpowered him, even though he had better control over the elements.
Though it would be remiss not to mention that basically anyone would’ve slapped him across the face if they heard the way he analyzed his gains.
The amount of XP he got in a single night was outright legendary! Without his 3X XP buff, he wouldn’t have even gotten a single level from all this effort. Compared to the denizens of Thalorind, he was rising incredibly quickly.
Far too quickly, in fact. He was making all his enemies feel urgency; they had to take him down because, at this point, all of them understood.
An inevitable power shift was going to happen.
The only way to stop it was to kill Quinlan before he got stronger, and the time was running out.
Quickly.
Quinlan’s attention shifted, moving to something else visible on his systemic interface.
—
Necromantic Tier Ascension
To ascend to Tier III:
Possess 1000 Elite Souls of Rank 5.
0/1000
—
The requirements went from 10 Elite souls at Rank 3 to this... It was a big jump. Quinlan right now had 100 Elite Souls at Rank 4. To reach Rank 5, souls of levels 50 or higher had to be used in the fusion process.
For now, he hadn’t done that, but it was time soon to begin what would change.
Scar especially deserved the buff because her current body was weaker than when she was a human, as a Rank 4 Elite Soul had the equivalent physique of a person in the mid to high level 50s. Scar, who died at level 68, was thus arguably nerfed by becoming his Elite Soul.
But first...
...
The Primordial Villain and his Skysplitter moved through the trees without speaking.
The night air still held the bite of burnt mana from the earlier battles, though the woods around their stronghold stayed quiet. Quinlan walked with his hands loose at his sides, Synchra warm against his ribs as if checking on him after every breath.
The armor was worried for a good reason... Quinlan was greatly injured even now. Just because he regained the armor’s charge did not mean he healed himself.
Furthermore, he hadn’t lost the 50 Vitality from Synchra’s third innate skill, [Heart of the Anima]. Since Synchra was Anima-rarity and soul-bound to him, it was part of who he was. Those stats stayed even if the armor ran out of charge; just like the metal itself stayed adamantite whether charged or not.
It made sense in his head, as the Vitality wasn’t a bonus added on top, but an innate stat, boosted to 62.5 because of the Primordial Villain class’s 25% Vitality increase.
Only the damage reduction and shapeshift were dependent on the charge.
All that is to say... As he did not regain his vitality with the armor’s charge, he needed medical attention.
But that would have to wait.
They reached the small house beside the smithy. Smoke no longer rose from its chimney. The place looked still, almost eerily quiet compared to its usual lively atmosphere.
Quinlan knocked twice.
Liora opened the door at once.
Her eyes jumped to Quinlan’s face, and as the beyond-talented priestess that she was, she instantly sensed that something was not quite right, best evidenced by the dried trail of blood at the corner of his mouth and the minute strains of his face.
The staff in her hand lifted on instinct. Light gathered at the tip, soft and steady, the start of a healing rite.
But Quinlan lifted his hand before she could begin rejuvenating him.
"Later, Liora."
His voice came low, rough from strain. He moved his gaze toward the back room where Kaelira rested.
Liora stopped in place. The spell flickered once and dissipated before the incantation could even leave her lips.
For a moment, the priestess simply looked at him, as if she couldn’t reconcile the state he was in with the fact that he was choosing to ignore it.
Her shoulders sank the smallest bit. The staff lowered. Her throat worked in a tight swallow.
But then, accompanied by a gasp of realization, moisture began gathering at the corners of her eyes. ’He prioritizes Miss Kaelira’s well-being above his own...’
She blinked quickly, fighting her tears back. "I’m sorry... It’s been a trying few months with the captain out cold..."
Quinlan moved his gaze to observe this woman from head to toe before nodding. "I can only imagine. My Sera was suffering as well because she couldn’t heal my condition. You must’ve gone through a lot, Liora. Thank you."
The tears the priestess managed to force back returned, stronger than ever. "Yes!" she nodded and stepped aside, letting the pair in.
Quinlan walked past her without slowing.
Ayame followed in silence, though her eyes lingered on the priestess a heartbeat longer.
The air inside held the sharp scent of metal and something medicinal. Kaelira’s people filled the room. Some paced. Some sat stiffly with their elbows on their knees.
Quinlan found the sight heartwarming. Despite their leader not being available, these five women all took part in tonight’s excursion. They got back not long ago. Yet they were here already, hoping the elf would return to their midst.
It said a lot about the bond the ex sex slaves of the Mithril-ranked adventurer had formed with their new squad captain over the months.
All their eyes turned toward him the moment he crossed the threshold.
Shallan stood closest to the bed. The redhead with the class Tempest Empress was quite the expressive woman most times, perhaps even the jester of the group. She certainly cracked the most jokes, at the very least.
Yet tonight her shoulders had lost their usual ease. Her eyes met his, steady and direct, an unspoken plea carried in the way she drew a shallow breath.
Quinlan understood.
’Please heal her!’
He moved forward. Ayame stayed near the wall with her arms folded.
Kaelira lay on the bed. Sweat dampened her hair. Her breathing came shallow, strained. She looked as if someone had drained the strength out of her piece by piece. Creating Synchra had demanded more from her than she could recover from.
The armor on Quinlan’s body stirred.
Synchra’s red fire dimmed, curling inward. She looked as if she wanted to try hiding, ashamed.
The Soul Reaper - hovering near Quinlan’s back - drifted forward in response and hit the armor. Technically... his own master was struck, but the motion had no force. The blue flame along its edge flicked in a pattern that resembled irritation more than aggression.
Quinlan knew what it meant.
’Enough. Stop blaming yourself, dumbass.’
Another tap followed, softer.
The blade’s message rang clearer than words.
’Children do not answer for the choices of their makers.’
Synchra’s fire trembled, shrinking even further.
Quinlan knelt beside the bed. The wooden floor pressed cold against his knee.
He set one hand on Kaelira’s wrist. Her skin felt too warm. Her pulse uneven. Then he shifted his gaze to the armor hugging his chest and spoke.