All The Skills

Arthur landed, with knees loose to absorb the impact, on unpleasantly soft ground. Wisps of toxic gas still drifted from the corpses, most of which were unrecognizable from the scourgelings they once were. Aside from the effects of the toxic gas, the adventurers had thrown everything they had into the pit during that last final push, leaving behind a gruesome sight.

Bradley stood on the other side of the pit, hands on his hips, grinning broadly at Arthur. "Well, it looks like you have more balls than them up there, kid."

Arthur began to walk forward. Only patches of the ground were visible. Most was covered by corpses, often several scourgelings deep. He didn’t dare take his eyes off of Bradley in case he pulled a trick, and so had to rely on his Balancing skill so he didn’t misstep.

"You don't want to make an enemy here," Arthur said, his voice steady. "You'll still get your fair share, Bradley. But so will everyone else."

"An enemy of who? You?" Bradley laughed harshly. "Kid, you can't even get close to me."

A green, toxic-looking gas began to spew from Bradley as if he had sprung a leak.

Arthur continued to advance.

Bradley's grin widened, his teeth a stark white against the billowing gas. "Your funeral."

Then, the volume of gas doubled, rising to obscure Bradley completely. It thickened and built up, reaching above the height of a man. The message was clear: if Arthur got too close, there would be no escape from the toxin.

Arthur pressed on. He had various poison resistances, thanks to his experiments with odd plants for Fossie back in Mesa Free Hive, but they were mostly at levels 2 and 3. It was uncertain if any would counteract Bradley's poisons. No doubt, those resistances would be getting a work-out soon.

Not yet near the gas, Arthur's eyes already stung and burned.

As he moved, Bradley continued to spew out his toxin until it collected into a fierce-looking thundercloud. Above, the watching adventurers fell silent. Arthur felt Brixaby's gaze upon him, and though he didn’t know if the dragon's look was one of encouragement or scorn for not having already killed Bradley, he knew Brixaby would step-in if necessary.

The moment Arthur reached the halfway point in the pit, where retreat to the walls was no longer an easy option, Bradley made his move.

The green poison cloud, which had been building up like a thick wall, suddenly surged towards Arthur.

Above, people shouted curses at Bradley and encouragement for Arthur. Brixaby roared his support, drowning out all the rest.

Just before the toxic gas engulfed him, Arthur activated his Phase-In, Phase-Out card. It had come off cool down sometime before, and he now had a full 30 seconds where literally nothing could touch him. He hoped that would be enough.

The cloud enveloped him like a suffocating blanket. All Arthur could see was a dim view of the sun above, and within moments that was gone. He was plunged into blackness.

Closing his eyes, Arthur focused on Brixaby’s cards. Brixaby had often claimed he could smell the cards within people's hearts. Arthur always figured it was either an exaggeration or a scare tactic… but what if…?

Brixaby’s Call of the Voice and Call of the Heart were part of the same deck. Because of that, they overlapped and boosted each other's powers, similar to how Arthur's Master of Skills and Master of Body Enhancement worked.

Concentrating in a way he’d never thought to do before, Arthur began to sense something outside himself.

Card shards flickered in tiny motes of power from the corpses all around him. Stronger pulses came from the higher-ranked scourgelings who’d had full cards.

Common cards felt like lit candles in darkness. But they were outshone by Uncommon cards, which blazed like oil-fed torches. Those in turn were nothing to Rare cards, which were like a full moon casting silvery shadows across the land at night. His own Legendary cards, however, shone like the sun at noon on a clear day.

Each rank of card wasn’t a simple step up from one to the next: It was an exponential leap of power.

In his mind, the pit transformed into a hilltop of glittering gems, each representing a card or a shard. It was nearly overwhelming, yet… barely manageable.

Most importantly, Bradley's three Rare cards stood out to Arthur like a lighthouse in a foggy night.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

In his arrogance, the man had moved only about 10 feet to the left, trusting that the obscuring toxic gas would hide him.

Arthur advanced straight toward him. Fifteen seconds left.

His plan was to use his Counterfeit Siphon card once he got within range of the man’s aura, copy the gas, and somehow turn it against him. But when he got close and his Counterfeit activated, he was met with a surprise.

New Counterfeit Siphon Spell

Smoke Obscura

Time Remaining:

59 minutes, 59 seconds.

Smoke?

Was this a trick? Maybe Bradley’s toxin was on a cooldown? No, Arthur’s eyes had burned with the oncoming gas in a way it never would have with smoke.

It was possible Bradley didn’t want that same toxin too close to his own skin. He’d used toxic gas on the outside of a ring to deter Arthur’s attack, while pulling less harmful green smoke to him.

As Arthur drew closer, he felt lesser, Common cards scattered throughout Bradley's body, likely stored in his card anchor. Bradley hadn’t moved, either. Likely, he was just as blind as Arthur and was simply waiting him out. He didn’t see him coming.

But he sure felt it when Arthur ripped three rare cards right from his heart.

Bradley's scream was unexpectedly high-pitched as he collapsed, and he immediately started choking in the dense smoke cloud.

3 seconds of his Phase In, Phase out remaining.

Arthur didn’t have light to see the three cards he’d pulled, and his time was almost up. He shoved them into his card anchor. It wasn’t his heart – he didn’t feel the description stamped on his soul, but he did at least get a notification of what they were.

Cards added:

Skin Shield (Rare)

Smoke Obscura (Rare)

He Who Dealt It (Rare)

Along with the cards' names came a tearing sensation in Arthur's arm, so intense that he yelled out. It felt as though something was trying to burst outward from within, as if his flesh was parting from the bone.

Gritting his teeth and summoning all his willpower, Arthur fought through the agony and activated the Skin Shield card.

A warm blankness washed over his skin just as his Phase In, Phase Out reached zero and he rejoined reality. With Bradley’s shield, the smoke couldn’t touch him.

Bradley lay at his feet, choking, possibly also vomiting suffering from the effects of the smoke and having the cards torn from his heart.

Arthur wasn’t in great shape, himself. He hunched over, clutching his arm as searing pain shot from his card anchor tattoo to his heart.

It was all he could to reach to the ‘He Who Dealt It’ card, which controlled the gas. As he'd suspected, he felt that it was in a wide ring around the green smoke. Mentally, he grabbed it and pushed the gas further out, dissipating it into something harmless.

The pain was so bad he thought his arm was trying to rip itself apart. He couldn’t take it more than a few seconds – it had to be tearing itself from the bone. Arthur made himself take in a few gasping breaths then held the last one. He yanked the three Rare cards from his anchor. Then, using a technique he’d never seen Brixaby do, reinserted them into Bradley’s chest.

Dragons weren’t usually known for giving power back, after all.

Bradley had gone limp from unconsciousness. Using his good arm, Arthur grabbed him by the back of the collar and dragged him out of the smoke.

He didn’t have to walk far, and the toxic gas beyond had dissipated entirely.

The moment he was visible, Brixaby dropped out of the air to his side, his buzzing wings dispersing a good deal of the smoke.

Exhausted, Arthur dropped Bradley on a mound of corpses and looked at his arm. It was completely covered with blood… though there was no open wound.

Now that the cards were gone, the pain had gone from a shriek to a bad throb. It could wait.

Arthur looked up at the high sides of the pit where the adventurers had crowded to watch.

“Anyone else?” he yelled out in challenge.

Brixaby reared on his hind legs and bellowed a roar.

No one challenged him. The gathered crowd of adventurers above responded with cheers, their approval echoing through the pit.

Good thing because if anyone had taken him up, he would have had to send Brixaby after them. That wouldn’t end well for that adventurer.

Arthur didn’t let his relief show on his face. "We're going to be splitting these cards up, equally and civilly. And after that, we're going to get our wounded some care." He paused, waiting for objections, but none came.

Lopez, seizing the opportunity, stepped forward to take command. “Then you’re clear to start the harvest. All cards are to be reported to me and my undersheriffs in exchange for points. We’ll hold an auction here.”

That got another cheer.

Arthur wasn’t sure what points meant, but he didn’t have time to ask. Brixaby started nosing at his arm.

"This man hurt you?” the dragon asked in a low growl.

Looking down, Arthur saw he’d been wrong before: Skin was peeling away from the card anchor tattoo as if it was going through a rapid sunburn. More blood was bubbling up from his pores near the ink, though it seemed to be slowing.

It hurt. A lot. But it was already much, much better than before. But it also wasn’t healing, which meant his healing card wasn’t taking care of it… And he knew the reason why.

He didn’t dare show weakness now in front of the adventurers. With a quick shake of his head, Arthur turned away, pretending interest in a particularly gruesome looking Rare scourgeling.

“No, it wasn’t him, Brix. I… I think I overloaded my card anchor. It’s destroyed.”

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