Project Seraphina [LitRPG, Magitech, GL]
2.70 The Aftermath I

Once the Oracle— or so his class was called— is no more, my attention turns back to the battlefield, hypervigilant for any lingering threat. All four summons are slain, their corpses disintegrated back into the Ether from which they came, no different than the other monsters generated by the System in dungeons and elsewhere. The few remaining cult members still alive are only barely so, groaning in semiconscious states for the healing that Chloe is slowly providing.

I don’t want to jinx it. I half expect to be stabbed in the back the second my Overlimit expires, leaving me a twitchy bundle of nerves as I dart my eyes from side to side. I fly over the battlefield, taking one last bird’s-eye view of the surroundings, as far out in every direction as I can identify. Now satisfied that we’re not in imminent danger, I land next to Chloe and pull her into a hug. I pour what extra [Ether] I can into her body, reversing the technique she’s used on me from time to time. Though without a [Skill] to effect the transfer, I doubt it amounts to much.

With some semblance of security in the immediate vicinity, I release my metaphysical grip on that golden power within me. Power fades from my body. The violet river coursing through my veins like a torrent slows to a trickle, then vanishes altogether, replaced by my normal [Ether]. My radiance dims, then vanishes. And I feel sore all over, head to toe, my heart and lungs not spared, as though I’d just run a dozen miles without the benefit of the System.

I want to relax and unwind and start to try to process all the death and fighting and… even the death of the man who was once my father is getting to me. His perhaps even more than the cult leader’s. Strangely, his death doesn’t weigh quite so heavily on me. Almost as though, when I tap into my [Seraphina Overlimit], I become my old self for those fleeting moments.

‘Just a weapon, rather than a human,’ I remember thinking. Cold, calculating, unwavering, machine-like. Not like I am usually. But also not like the old Seraphina. Not like the memories I have of her— of my— past life. I have to wonder if something happened to her. If she lost something or someone or something else happened to turn her into a machine, incapable of feeling anything other than cold, impersonal logic.

I stumble along, following Chloe partially to be some half-assed bodyguard, and mostly just to stay close to her. She grounds me, guides me away from my baser impulses. That, and she’s very cute, a sight for sore eyes after so much fighting. So much blood spilt all because of one man I thought was mad with power, but who might have just been horrifically misguided in the end.

Though, when I reflect on the battle, I wonder what in the nine hells Theo meant in his dying words. Something about how Chloe’s father knows more about me.

And that leads me down a rather conspiratorial line of thought. Chloe and I meeting, becoming friends, and falling in love. Her father being a high-ranking government official, and now what he said to Theo at some point in the past. Just what does he know about Project Seraphina? And how does he know about it?

Ultimately, though, there’s nothing I can do on that line of thought. Argh. I grimace as a headache starts to take over. It’s like [Ether] strain, or like how I’d imagine a hangover to be, except… not. Definitely another of the fun after-effects of [Seraphina Overlimit] that I better be mindful of the next time I have to tap into it. Which, hopefully, I won’t need to do for at least a week, because otherwise, I’m gonna be taking a one way trip up Shit Creek.

I pause for a moment as Chloe tends to an injured cultist. Or, I guess, an injured person now. None of the folks she’s nursed back to consciousness have exactly felt remorseful about their actions. More than anything, they seem wavering and uncertain, lacking the firm direction that their Oracle could provide with his words and visions alike. I wish that I could help them. But to them, I must seem like a monster, like one of those creatures their fallen leader spoke of, able to kill any number of them with but a thought.

I drop to one knee, my breaths becoming a bit strained. Chloe turns back to me and catches me mid-fall, helping me back on the ground.

“You were reckless again, weren’t you, Sera?”

“Yeah. I don’t think that’s ever going to change.”

“But you knew, didn’t you? About that power. You were expecting to use it.”

“I didn’t want to have to rely on it. I was hoping not to. But… I’m glad I had it, and glad I knew about it.”

Chloe gives me The Look. But then she sighs and smiles, a warm but tired smile. “You are…” She shakes her head. “Wonderful. And tired. You need to rest. That’s Healer’s Orders.”

“But–” I start to interject. I quickly decide against it. “Yes, love,” I say.

I take the opportunity to pore over the System notifications popping up. There’s a lot of them. Our side lost twelve brave soldiers. Lindsey, Chloe, Stefan, and I were among the fortunate. Kristil is barely alive, though she will succumb without Chloe's help and probably some further medical attention.

Most of us are in rough shape. Only Chloe, who mostly stayed on the backlines, and Lindsey are in any state approaching combat-ready, and even that’s a stretch. My [Health] and [Ether] are nearly topped off, but the [Exhaustion (Rank II)] ailment will see those numbers drop precipitously should I take any strenuous actions anytime soon.

On the other hand, the cultists— the members of Order of the Wilds, as I suppose the dead deserve some dignity in their death— have been completely routed. Of the forty or so on the compound, Lindsey and our strike team together took out nine of them before the main fight got underway. Thirteen of them survived, but are in critical condition. And there are eighteen corpses, on top of the four summons whose bodies disintegrated after being slain.

I don’t want an itemized breakdown of every person and their class. At some later point, when I’m ready to process this mountain of corpses and my actions this morning, I might go back to it. But for now, a summary will do. And in this much, at least, the System obliges my mental request.

[Your party has slain 16 Humans (Levels range from 24 to 35). You have gained a boosted 51,500 Experience.]

[Your party has slain a Lesser Tyrant Ooze (Level 36). You have gained a boosted 12,500 Experience.]

I didn’t really do much toward taking out the ooze, so that makes sense.

[Your party has slain a Giant Rattleviper (Level 39). [Seraphina Overlimit] prevents Experience gain.]

[You have slain 2 Humans. (Levels 35, 40). [Seraphina Overlimit] prevents Experience gain.]

And I have another 69,500 Experience from the Corroslug and the Greathawk. Altogether that’s… A bit over a hundred and thirty thousand points. I wish it didn’t have to come at the cost of so many lives, so I could be more than a little excited about it.

[You have gained enough Experience to reach level 35 (from 33). [Strength] +2, [Speed] +2, [Vitality] +2, [Mind] +2. Please assign free stat points (Remaining: 8)]

This time around, I feel it’s best to start balancing out my stats a bit more. Not that more [Ether] and [Ether] regeneration is a bad thing, or that I have nearly enough of it. Just that, in the aftermath of this last battle, I have come to realize the limitations of my lacking [Strength] and [Speed] firsthand.

Had I been stronger, I might have been able to take out the hawk and slug before I exhausted my supply of [Ether] completely. Had I been faster, I might have been able to dodge the attack that nearly killed me. I survived, thanks to my hidden power. But not without the cost of tens of thousands of Experience that I could have used to secure greater power in the future.

I need to treat [Seraphina Overlimit] exactly as it is. A last resort to keep me alive in the most dire of hours, when I’ve gotten myself in far over my head. Not some tactical nuke to plan a strategy around. In fact, the fewer people who know about it, the better.

I decide, after a fair few seconds, to assign one point to each stat with my first level, and then two points each to my [Strength] and [Speed] with the second. Even before the levels finish processing, I feel my body adjusting just a bit to accommodate the new boosts the System has given me. And the extra [Vitality] and [Health] are helping my exhaustion just a bit as well.

[Maximum Health increases by [Vitality] x2 + Current Level + Rand[1, 3] = (185, 189)]

[Maximum Ether increases by [Mind] + Current Level + Rand[0, 2] = (150, 153)]

[Level: 35; Experience: 497,245; To Next: 34,510]

[Current Stats: [Health]: 4,083 / 4,083; [Ether]: 2,856 / 2,856]

[Current Stats: [Strength]: 36; [Speed]: 34; [Vitality]: 76; [Mind]: 116]

And then one more weird notification appears:

[Your [Cybernetic Body] has synchronized with the [Wings of Icarus]. Cost to maintain flight reduced by two-thirds.]

That’s not enough for me to be able to maintain my flight long-term, but it’s a definite step in the right direction. I’ll probably need one more Skill or accessory to be able to do so, or find more glyph arrangements that will help lower the costs further.

Chloe joins me a moment later, sitting on a patch of grass that’s been heavily scarred and trampled underfoot during the battle. She seems even more fatigued than I do, a consequence of [Ether] strain hitting her hard from all the time she’s been spending healing the wounded before and after the battle. But she seems happy— okay, maybe not happy. But she’s got a look of contentment and fulfillment as can be as she lies her head in my lap and caresses her cheek with my hands. I’m sure that without her, the death toll on both sides would have been far higher.

“So, what do we do now?” I ask. After all the horrors of today, it feels like the right call, not pushing any further. She needs to rest, and frankly, I do as well.

“I’d… I’d like to go home. See Mom again, have a few days to just…”

“It’s been a lot for both of us.”

“Yeah, and your father–”

“Passed a couple of months ago.” I keep saying this, but a part of me knows that it’s just a convenient fiction, a way to cope with the fact that both of my parents are dead, and that I know this beyond a shadow of a doubt.

“You don’t need to hold it all in anymore,” Chloe says. “I’m here for you. And I promise, I will never, ever leave your side.”

“Not… here. Not on the battlefield.”

Chloe just nods. It feels wrong, sitting here, enjoying one another’s company while so much death surrounds us. But at the same time, we’re both too fatigued to do more than simply rest. Rest, and wait until whatever ends up happening next. Which takes a lot less time than I’d expected, given that Lindsey is approaching us with purpose.

“Alright, ladies,” she says. “I’ve notified the authorities about everything that’s gone down this morning. In a few minutes, some ambulances will be here to take all of us to the nearest hospital for a full assessment and evaluation. And don’t worry about the money, before you ask. It’ll all be paid for by the city.”

“But I’m fine,” I try to protest. “Just tired.”

“Even so, you’re going. Even I’m going.”

I turn to Chloe. “Let me guess? Healer’s Orders?”

Chloe gazes up at me and grins. “Yep. Healer’s Orders.”

I sigh, completely defeated before the sincerity of my girlfriend. “Alright, let’s get to it.”