Rewind: A Grimdark LitRPG Series (Pyresouls Apocalypse, Book 1) by James Callum (reading tree .txt) 📕

cautiously knowing that the last Graceful Penitent he killed would be back. He could have dismissed his [Mace] back to his inventory but chose not to, suffering the extra point of Guilt so he could readily swap between it and the [Bladed Whip].

It took a lot longer to draw an item out of the Inventory, particularly weapons, shields, and foci. By keeping them equipped but dismissed, he still bore the burden of their Guilt but could instantly swap to that weapon.

As much as he felt his hunch might be correct about the [Bladed Whip], he wasn’t about to trust it blindly. If things got dicey, he would step in with his [Mace].

Rounding the corner, Jacob came to the first Graceful Penitent. Like the others it seemed to hide in an alcove, waiting to ambush with its lanky limbs and clawing broken nails.

Uncoiling his whip made enough noise to rouse the creature from its hole and it made shambling, sluggish movements toward him. It was loud enough to draw its attention but not enough to make it overly aggressive.

After all, the creatures couldn’t see. Filthy rotted bandages covered their heads, splotched with long-dried bloodstains.

Setting himself properly and shifting his shoulder back, Jacob pulled back on the whip and then lashed his arm forward. The hallway echoed with the repeated tink, tink, tink of the blades scraping against the stone floor as they were whipped up into the air.

The Graceful Penitent lunged toward the sound, black teeth bared. Jacob raised his shield to guard himself but realized halfway through the automatic motion that it would be unnecessary.

His whip sliced through the air and with a less-than-satisfying crack snapped into the creature’s chest. The damage wasn’t incredible but the creature let out a horrific moaning sound of ecstasy and fell to its knees clawing savagely at its own body.

Jacob’s lip curled in disgust. Oh, man, they like it?

All the while it moaned in a strange tongue, filling the dark hall with indecipherable words.

You whip the [Graceful Penitent] for 164 points of damage.

You consume 20 Stamina.

The [Graceful Penitent] is afflicted with Rapture.

Jacob wasted no time dismissing the whip and taking a two-handed grip on his [Mace]. He stepped in, lifting the [Mace] high over his head, and with all the strength he could muster he slammed the heavy head of the [Mace] into the stunned creature’s bowed head.

The impact splattered the stones with gore and cut off the monster’s incessant babbling.

Exploited Weakness!

You strike the [Graceful Penitent] for 332 points of damage.

You consume 40 Stamina.

You defeat the [Graceful Penitent].

Awarded 350 Souls.

Your Whip Skill increases to Level 1.

Your Mace Skill increases to Level 10...11…12.

No matter how much he felt creeped out by the Graceful Penitent’s reaction, he could hardly argue with the results. The whip practically incapacitated them.

With a quick look at the empty hall, Jacob took a moment to reconfigure his log settings. A few mental swipes of his settings cleaned up his vision. All he would see now was the Souls he was awarded unless he opened up his log and decided to inspect the damage done.

That was one of the things Alec had told him to do first but he wanted to see how much weaker he was without his Sword Forms. The answer was: a lot. He had to resort to exploiting weaknesses, backstabs, and ripostes to get any real damage in.

And in the meantime his vision was filling up with text, making it harder to make out any new threats.

He still could see his Health and Stamina bars. He didn’t need to know that he was using 15 Stamina for each light swing and 40 Stamina per heavy swing. The vanishing green bar told him how much Stamina he lost and how much remained without so much clutter.

The most important bit, was that he was correct about his hunch. These creatures were weakened by the whip in an extremely disconcerting manner. A single lash and they lost their damn mind, effectively stunning them while he walked up with a [Mace] and delivered the coup de grace.

Although it was early in the game, he could catapult his strength by taking a little time to farm the creatures around the Pyre.

It wasn’t something he could do perpetually. Some people got stuck in the grind and while they were likely stronger than even Alec, they hadn’t progressed through Lormar at all. Making their vaunted strength useless.

No doubt, if the Burgon Beast hadn’t escaped and caused the Collapse, they would have taken to the forums to boast about how high their levels were. But where were these grinders when the world ended and their strength was in dire need?

Strength unused is strength wasted.

Hoarders – both Souls and goods alike – were not uncommon Post-Collapse. He wouldn’t be like that. A few rounds of wiping out the creatures with the whip, then he would press on. There had to be a balance and each minute he spent in the Steps of Penance was one he would need to make up later.

Each Graceful Penitent gave him 350 Souls, a large amount even much farther into Lormar. And there were several hallways filled with the things. Not to mention whatever awaited him ahead.

He only needed about three kills to get enough Souls to raise a parameter. Most of them he avoided purely because he didn’t want to get overwhelmed, but now he headed down pathways he didn’t dare tread before, whip at the ready.

It was time to farm.

10

Soaked with sweat, Jacob caved in a Graceful Penitent’s skull. Another came out from its hole in the wall, but he was expecting it. This was a scenario he played out several times already and the sudden emergence of the creature no longer startled him.

Another crack of the [Bladed Whip] sent the thing to its knees, keening with that disturbing ululating tone that he soon quieted with a swap back to his [Mace] and a crunching impact to the thing’s sightless face.

Jacob turned, switching back to the [Bladed Whip],