Reincarnated as an Apocalyptic Catalyst
Chapter 100: An Assassin, a Duelist, and a Healer Walk Into a Church... With a Nuke?

Chapter 100: An Assassin, a Duelist, and a Healer Walk Into a Church... With a Nuke?

It wasn’t a great rest, we mostly just took turns closing our eyes, but sleep never came. It seemed like every 20 minutes or so, something would rap on the door, bone or nail, whatever it was, it would strike the door once and scratch at it a few times before wandering away. The most likely scenario was a zombie testing the entrance and getting bored when it didn’t give way to their meager attempt. Still, even buying us a night of not moving more than needed seemed to do wonders. A day, two days, three for sure, we would need actual sleep, but the goal was to get out of here, the sooner the better. The cult was on the move, and likely didn’t face the same obstacles we did.

This place was in Morgana’s domain. I knew it for certain, and I wouldn’t doubt that Vance and Ronan had at least contemplated the connection, though as far as I could tell, they had never directly met with her. Nythera was probably the only one still in the dark on this, and that was likely for the best. She knew it had to do with the cult, she knew what we were after, and for now, that’s all she really cared about, so why burden her with the knowledge that something older than the gods was involved in all of this.

Once we had all shaken out our stiff limbs, we unanimously elected to further explore our current residence. She removed some of the make-shift barricades that separated other areas of the church from the main... What was it called? I was never big into religion, but I think this was the Chapel? No, that sounded like a building. Well, wherever this place was where people listened to sermons, we had made it our resting place and every other entryway had been piled high with debris. If we would stay here another day, we needed to make sure other rooms were secure, despite how much space we had to work with, it would at least put our minds at ease.

I was no tank, but I took point. I didn’t think to ask Vance what his stats were at the time, despite him being likely the only one to prioritize perception more than I had, which wasn’t saying much. For all I knew, Ronan had dumped a shit ton of stats into perceptions, seeing as how he loved people watching.

As we moved out of our sanctuary, past broken pews and shattered stained glass. We passed through some kind of my gaze drifted upward. The bell tower loomed above us, seeming to rise into the heavens. The idea came to me in an instant. High ground, we needed high ground. First, we needed to figure out how to get up there. I looked about, glancing behind us at the door we had exited, when I saw a sign. Nave. I thought to myself. It looks like it’s called a Nave. Weird. Anyway, back to business.

"The bell tower," I said, pointing upward. "We need to check it out."

Vance followed my gaze, scowling. "You sure about that? If there’s anything up there, it’s probably not friendly."

"If there’s something up there, better we deal with it now than let it sneak up on us later," I countered. "Besides, high ground means a better view of the city. We need to know what’s out there."

Nythera shifted uneasily. "Do we even know if the stairs are intact?"

"There’s only one way to find out," I muttered, already moving.

The staircase leading up was a narrow, spiraling death trap. The wood groaned beneath my weight, and I was a pretty sinewy guy. Ronan damn near bowed the steps, causing me to wince with every bit he climbed. I supposed if the stairs gave way, it would only be one step at a time, and that was a problem for the sorcerer. Vance had his own concerns, but with the amount I bet he put into dexterity, he would be fine. Nythera was basically a ninja, as she couldn’t have weighed much over 100 pounds–I knew elves were small in stature, but she was on another level. Vance was right—this was a bad idea. But bad ideas were usually our best bet.

There were a ton of steps ahead of us, and I figured some light hearted conversation couldn’t hurt. We heard no reasons to be silent or sneaky, and the undead didn’t seem to be ambush attackers, so I risked a few words.

"So... Everyone... We should probably share our stats. It would be good to know each others strengths and weaknesses, it might even influence how we adjust our own builds." I cautiously prodded, hoping the others would be willing to disclose their information. We were all friends here, so why not? Hell, I would even start.

I let out a breath and brought up my own stats, reading them off as I stretched. "Alright, here’s me: Strength 20, Dexterity 30, Constitution 22, Intellect 18, Perception 20, Willpower 10."

Vance whistled. "Damn. You really went all in on Dexterity. Assassin, huh?"

"Always," I said, cracking my knuckles. "Figure it makes the most sense for my playstyle."

"Not sure about the Willpower part, though," Vance muttered. "Thought you’d be all over that one."

I shook my head. "Nah. I don’t need to dominate people anymore. It’s a little short-sighted, sure, but I think I can afford to focus on combat. Not planning on pulling any mind games anytime soon."

Nythera frowned slightly at the word dominate, but didn’t press further. I didn’t catch it, unfortunately, but this could be an issue later..

Vance took this chance to take a breather and sit down on one of the steps, stretching his arms behind his head. "Alright, my turn. Strength 20, Dexterity 25, Constitution 15, Intellect 10, Perception 25, Willpower 10."

I raised an eyebrow. "You neglected Intellect completely?"

Vance shrugged. "Magic’s not my thing. I figure if I’m gonna be effective, I need to see the attacks coming and avoid them. That’s why I put so much into Perception and Dexterity. Good duelist always wins by reading the opponent, not brute force."

It made sense. I couldn’t argue with that—Perception let him anticipate movements, and Dexterity made sure he reacted to them properly. He was set up to be a monster in direct combat, one that I was glad I didn’t have to face.

Nythera hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Alright. I focused more on magic... Strength 10, Dexterity 10, Constitution 15, Intellect 35, Perception 15, Willpower 20."

I let out a low whistle. "Damn. You put everything into Intellect."

She nodded. "Healing is my role. If I don’t have a high mana pool, I’m useless to you all. Besides, with my regen at 10 MP per minute, I can keep us alive if you all exercise some caution. I will need to upgrade it more when we take out more monsters, but for now it should be good.."

Vance frowned. "Yeah, but you’re squishy as hell. No strength, no dexterity? If you get targeted, you’re screwed."

Nythera crossed her arms. "That’s why you’re all supposed to protect me."

Vance sighed. "Yeah, yeah, fine. But you better be throwing out those heals like candy if we’re gonna keep you standing."

Ronan, of course, had been silent this entire time. He didn’t volunteer his stats, so I turned to him directly. "Alright, Ronan, what’s your build?"

He blinked, then stated it flatly, as if he were reading off a grocery list. "Strength 10, Dexterity 10, Constitution 15, Intellect 40, Perception 10, Willpower 20."

There was a long, heavy pause.

"Holy shit," Vance muttered.

I groaned, rubbing my face. "Of course you dumped everything into Intellect. I swear, your entire strategy is ’nuke it before it can hit me.’"

Ronan nodded. "Correct."

Nythera blinked at him. "But what if you run out of mana?"

"I will not."

"...Right," she murmured, looking unsettled. "You have a 450 mana pool and 10 MP regen. Wont you run out after you cast a bunch of spells?"

"No."

I sighed, already feeling a headache coming on. "So, to summarize: I’m fast as hell, Vance is a reaction-based duelist, Nythera will keep us alive, and Ronan is just going to burn everything to the ground."

Vance nodded. "Sounds about right."

Nythera shifted uncomfortably. "We’re still under-leveled, though. Even with the multipliers, we need to be careful. If we fight the wrong thing, we die."

I exhaled. "Yeah. So that means no unnecessary fights. We fight when we have to, we build our power, and we don’t do anything stupid."

Vance crossed his arms. "So what’s the plan?"

I looked toward the belltower above us, the looming structure stretching toward the gray sky, barely standing against time itself. "First... we need a better vantage point. If we’re gonna map out this city, we start there. So I guess we keep climbing the stairs," I sighed as I gestured for Vance to stand to his feet so we could keep going.