Spear of Destiny by James Baldwin (little bear else holmelund minarik .TXT) 📕

Rin could work some miracle with it, it just couldn’t handle the kind of damage and armor penetration my enemies threw at me now.

I plugged both points into Shadow Dance, leveling it up to Shadow Dance V: the maximum level for combat abilities until I hit Level 30. It was my primary mobility ability, and once I read the description, I knew I’d made the right decision. Shadow Dance V

Basic Evasive Dash reduces damage by 95% at the cost of HP (5 HP per dash). Can now be used three times in a row before recharging, including while in mid-air. You can now dash in any direction without needing prior momentum: straight up or down from standing, etc.

Satisfied, I closed the window. I had 5366 EXP to go before I reached Level 27, but there wasn’t going to be time for grinding monsters just yet—because this bitch was gonna train.

Cue the montage.

Chapter 22

Training always began with a brisk 3-mile run in full gear, accompanied by wholesome songs about patriotism, duty, and sacrifice.

“Airborne Ranger was a hell of a man! Walked through the bar with his cock in his hand! Shit on the table and pissed on the floor! Wiped his ass with a forty-four!” I happily bawled out the lyrics as I jogged through The Orphans’ camp, clanking on every step. “A hundred women queued against the wall! Bet a hundred bucks he couldn’t fuck ‘em all! Fucked ninety-eight till his cock turned blue! Threw up, swelled up, fucked the other two!”

By the end of the song, half a dozen of Taethawn’s soldiers had joined me—and by the third mile, they’d learned the full version of The Monkey/Airborne Ranger, My Girl is a Vegetable, A.I.R.B.O.R.N.E #2, aka the ‘Drink Yourself to Death’ song, and two of the Kick-Ass Granny ones. Unsurprisingly, I leveled up in Stamina, but not Wisdom or Intelligence for teaching a bunch of battle-hardened giant cats about Everclear and amphetamines.

After that came combat training. I was just about to hit the threshold for Advanced Spearfighting, which meant I was going to need a trainer of some kind. Unfortunately for me, I was the best spear specialist in Karhad, and possibly all of Myszno. What I could train was acrobatics. I had three disciplines of acrobatics I planned to master by the time I was Level 40: Gymnastics, Parkour, and Aerobatics, the art of flipping out like a circus performer while in the air. And I did know someone who could train me to Master levels, when the time came—Vash.

“Hup!” I Jumped up to the scaffolding, found my feet, and launched out into the air. I chained Shadow Dance up, up and forward, reappearing on the top level of scaffolding. Teetering high above the courtyard, I ran to the edge, flipped across the gap, and cartwheeled over to stand on my hands. Then I walked on them to the edge of the rampart, holding position there against the wind for a handful of seconds before slowing tipping myself over the edge. Leap of Faith III kicked in, slowing my perception of the descent. I twisted in the air like a cat, heart pounding as the ground drew closer and closer. At the last second, I Shadow Danced forward and up. The dash almost carried me into the edge of a broken wall. I barely twirled out of the way, sucking in my gut, then burst out laughing.

[You have gained a level in gymnastics! You have gained a level in Aerobatics! You have gained +1 Str, +1 Dex]

“Nice.” I drew a deep breath, pausing to rest and let my stamina bar refill. I was grinning, pulse racing, muscles warm and ready to fire. It was the same bliss I’d felt during motorcycle stuntwork: the double pleasure of skill and raw physical control meshed into a seamless flow.

An odd sound broke through the morning air: the sound of clashing metal and rough leather. I turned, saw nothing, and looked up to find Vash perched on the edge of the rampart I’d just dropped down from. The clanging was the sound he made while clapping with one metal arm, and one arm covered in the full-length striking gauntlet of the Baru.

“You’re getting better, dog!” Vash fluidly dropped to the ground. He was still dressed as he had been while training Karalti: loose pants tucked into heavy-duty steel-capped boots, a sash, a well-worn crossover jacket. “No wonder you casually told the commanders this morning that you want their men to jump sixteen thousand feet off an airship, eh?”

I laughed. “Seriously, it works. We’ll show you how it’s done.”

“Oh, I believe you. Istvan said something about soldiers holding sheets over their heads, drifting to the earth like gentle autumn leaves.” He cackled. “Come. Walk with me. I would talk.”

Curious, I jumped up and down a couple of times, loosening my arms, then fell into step with him. Walks with Vash were rarely casual—and even as I thought that, he vanished into a fine film of smoke and reappeared twenty feet up on the edge of the wall. I leaped up after him, breaking into a jog as he ran along the narrow edge, cartwheeled without hands over a break in the stone, and kept running toward the gatehouse. Two months ago, I would have only barely kept up with him. Now, I was able to match his speed as he scaled the rough stone walls like a lizard, pulling himself up to the top of the gatehouse tower and scattering a flock of crows. They squawked indignantly as they flew away.

“Sorry, little brothers,” he said, clicking his tongue. He hopped up onto the very edge of the parapet and squatted on his heels, looking out over the Meewfolk encampment.

“What’s up?” I asked, once I’d found my place beside him.

“Earlier, I mentioned that I might ask you a favor,” he replied in