Azure: Gunner

Elves are one of the most dangerous races to encounter in a dungeon. This has nothing to do with any particular advantage of the species in combat. In fact, while generally slightly taller than humans, their builds are typically slender. The majority of sapient species can overpower an elf in a wrestling match.

Perhaps because of this relative fragility, dungeon elves have a higher proportion of Mages and Archer-type Classes than any other known species. Even their ‘melee’ fighters are commonly hybrid Classes like Rangers, Spellswords, and so on. Their ability to engage at range means that defeating them requires different tactics than most monsters.

Fortunately, they are most often encountered in forested ecosystems, which partially negates their true long-range potential by limiting sightlines and providing cover.

- Bonnie, Level 41 Beastmaster, Bonnie’s Bestiary

It turned out that the quadrosaurs had gotten the jump on Raylan and G’hala because the winding ravine we were following led right past their cave. The dark opening wasn’t visible until we were nearly on top of it as the small canyon turned a corner right in front of it. To my shock, Mason informed us we’d stop there, even though it was barely early afternoon.

“It’s clear we need more training time before continuing,” he told us. “Better to stop here, where the mana density isn’t too high, then to continue further into the hills.”

“We’re not in a hurry?” I asked in confusion. “I thought you said there might be a war?!”

“There might be,” he agreed, “but governments move slowly, especially when they’re not in agreement. And right now, it’s more important that we impress Zion when we arrive than to rush and get there sooner. We’ll invest time training up front, which will also help you fight more effectively throughout the trip. I want your Levels as high as possible when we arrive – both Class and Skills. Understood?”

We got to work, first claiming the monster’s cave as our temporary home base. It reeked of rotten meat, dried blood, and other, more disgusting things – far worse than the musty smell I remembered from the spiderwolves' cave we’d camped in outside of Sunland. That was easily solved, however, when you had a Tier 4 Air Mage along. Phyx cleaned out the stench with a casual wave of her hand.

Then she conjured a high-pressure jet of water, which she used to scour the floor of the cave clean. The water carried the dirt and other less-pleasant debris into the back of the cave, where it drained away through the crevices into the dark. Ten minutes later, the remaining dampness faded away as the conjured liquid dispersed, leaving a clean, dry cave behind.

As we set up our bedrolls and other gear, I felt a tiny bit of satisfaction at finally having a chance to use my mana lamp. I’d gotten it from PAST way back at Level 5 and had barely needed it since. I set the small device down on a convenient rock next to my bedroll – there was enough light to see by now, with daylight filtering in – but it would be great later.

Mason’s training was just as intense as I remembered. We started by running the firing-line drill over and over until our timing and spacing was perfect. Then we did variations, starting with changing positions around, even having the Mages and me in the first row with the melee fighters behind us. After that, Mason drilled us on different situations.

For example, if we were facing many smaller monsters instead of a few large ones, the second rank should stay close to the first. In that situation we needed to be able to support them if an enemy threatened to slip through a gap, and we didn’t have to worry about them getting knocked on their asses. Once Mason was satisfied with our performance against imaginary monsters, he looked over at Shieldbreaker.

The dwarf and infernal had disappeared for a while earlier, along with Rhyme, heading back down the trail towards the scene of the fight. They’d returned after maybe fifteen or twenty minutes, with the dwarf carrying the severed tails of two of the quadrosaurs slung over his broad shoulders. While we’d trained, they’d set up a portable mana stove and started cooking. It was obvious what we were having for dinner, and probably for every meal the next few days…

Now the Berzerker left Haldred behind and strolled over to us, rolling his shoulders under his armor. He was outfitted with what looked like a simple steel helm and chainmail. It reminded me of JJ’s armor – Berzerkers rarely wore much more than chain. Their signature Skills worked better the more damage they took, after all, making armor a balancing act.

Mason and Breaker – Shieldbreaker was far too much of a mouthful – took turns attacking our formation. The Tier 4s shrugged off our full-power Spells and shots effortlessly. Mason utilized a shield I’d never seen before, while the dwarf simply charged through everything we could throw at him. Obviously we weren’t going to take either of them down, so the goal was simply to perfect our execution.

Surprisingly it was much easier to ‘deal’ with Mason than Breaker, simply because the Swordmaster was a much taller target. When I was behind H’ruk, the orc’s massive size made it hard to target the short, broad dwarf – even with H’ruk down on one knee. While Rhyme was casting some kind of sound barrier that prevented all the noise we were making from carrying out of the canyon, it didn’t protect my friends from the sound of my gun firing right by their ears.

Mason pulled me aside after our fourth time running the drill. He looked me over with a critical eye and I resisted the urge to flinch, assuming criticism was coming my way for something.

This book was originally published on NovelPhoenix. Check it out there for the real experience.

“Why do you have a silencer mod on your pistol and not your shotgun?” he asked finally. “I’ve seen your teammates flinch multiple times as you’re shooting by their heads.”

“Uh… because I didn’t have room for it before?” I responded. “The other mods I have on my gun are more important, but I guess I can switch now that I have an extra slot!”

I proceeded to do just that, sitting down on a nearby rock before removing the mod from my pistol and adding it to my shotgun. Mason sat down next to me, watching as Breaker animatedly discussed something with the orcs.

“Have you considered any other changes to your mods?” he asked when the dizziness had passed.

“What do you mean? I have the best mods on my shotgun because it's my most important weapon!”

“It is, but do you?” he asked, and I frowned.

“How often do you use adjustable choke and infusion?” he asked when I didn’t reply.

“I use infusion all the time! Every time we do a Sprint – I need it to practice my Spells!”

“In fights?” he asked, and I paused.

I hadn’t used it that often – I usually wanted to save my mana when fighting weaker enemies. When we fought big monsters, it hadn’t seemed that effective lately.

But, it’s my only magic! I don’t get to use my wand very often either, but I still carry it! Magic is awesome!

Mason must have read my mind because I definitely wasn’t pouting.

“It’s a Level 1 mod, right?” he confirmed, and I nodded.

“Replace it,” he said firmly. “It’s only able to project Spells at Level 1 power.”

“What?!” I asked, shocked. “How come no one ever told me that?”

The Black Razor just shrugged. I realized that I hadn’t ever asked anyone, to be fair. And I kept it hidden for quite a while, until the duel with Yuri. No wonder everyone wasn’t dying to get their own. I had just thought they were lazy and didn’t want to learn any Spells!

Stupid System, making Level 1 mods do Level 1 things!

Having crushed my infused dreams, he followed up on the choke mod. After some consideration I had to admit that it wasn’t as useful now as it used to be, either. It didn’t have as much of an effect on my double-aught as it did on the lighter loads. Now that I could keep slugs in one barrel, I could switch to those for long range engagements. On top of that, Pierce greatly reduced the spread of my shots. With a sigh, I promised to think about both of them.

What would I switch with, though? I don’t have any other interesting options!

At least my teammates were much less reluctant to kneel in front of me now that the sound of my shotgun was significantly quieter. It was still louder than the Adjudicator was when it had the silencer mod, but the difference was obvious. I wasn’t even doing too badly on mana, since I’d switched to BBs when we’d started the drill and I was recovering my brass. Each shot only cost 1mp, far less than my friends spent on their Spells.

Once they were spent, Mason halted the team drills and had everyone else start working on their melee weapons Skills. Since I still had mana left, I was paired up with Rhyme, who was instructed to provide me with illusory targets to shoot. The elf complained, but Mason glared them down, probably saying something to them over the Comms as well. With a put-upon sigh, the elf did as they were told.

Unlike the simple targets Hassan had created, or the similar ones at the school, Rhyme called forth a horde of glowing globes of different colors. Most of them were blue, but there were a few red ones mixed in. They set them all to swirling about, and told me I had to shoot the red ones without hitting any of the blues. It was by far the most frustrating, Wasted annoying, and just generally fucking stupid shooting drill I’d ever done.

I clearly didn’t feel that way just because I sucked at it. It was just that those red targets kept taunting me, darting in and out of hiding, and if a poor innocent blue orb got in the way, well, it was just too bad, wasn’t it? By the time I’d worked my way through my first load of ammunition, I’d taken out a half-dozen reds and a few blues. OK, maybe it was a dozen blues, but Rhyme kept making more, so it’s not like I could really tell. When Mason came over to check my progress, the elf threw up their hands in exasperation.

“Your star pupil’s trigger discipline is shit,” the Bard complained in a whining soprano, and Mason gave me a disappointed look.

“What am I supposed to do?” I said defensively. “They keep hiding the reds behind the blues!”

“Her pronoun discipline sucks, too,” the elf shot back. “I am a lady!” After a brief pause, they added “And a gentleman!” in a smooth baritone.

“I am unconcerned about your self-inflicted pronoun problems,” Mason glanced at the elf, then back to me. “However, trigger discipline is a very severe issue. Azure, what do you do when one of your friends is engaged in melee and you need to support them?”

“I pull out my cutlass and help!” I responded immediately. “I don’t want to shoot them by accident!” I added, then froze. Oh. Yeah.

Mason didn’t seem to notice that I’d just figured it out, and gave me a short, biting lecture about how formation fighting and firing lines were a learning tool that couldn’t be relied on in the chaos of a higher-Tier battle. I needed to start preparing now, at least according to him, for a future where I’d regularly be sending shots slicing right past my friends’ bodies to blast a monster that was threatening them.

I accepted his criticism stoically, frustrated with myself more than anything. When we resumed the drill I was extra-careful, being absolutely sure not to hit any of the blue orbs. That got me a lecture from Rhyme about how I was overcorrecting, and I needed to take some risk. It would be better to hit my friend with a stray pellet or two than failing to take a shot that might save their life, after all. I groaned in frustration, extremely glad when I was interrupted by a shout.

“YES!” G’hala yelled out. The Shaman could reach a truly impressive volume when she wanted – obviously because she was so much bigger than me, right? I turned, seeing a wide grin plastered across her face.

“Level 9!” she said exultantly, with a fanged smile directed towards her brother, who slumped slightly before congratulating her. He was still Level 8, obviously. Mason sensed the change in mood and called for a halt to the drills, deciding it was time to eat.

I discovered that grilled quadrosaur tail was delicious, the cooking having dulled but not killed the spicy taste, and with a much less disgusting texture than raw, bloody heart. Zaire barely ate any, claiming it was still too spicy for him, and stuck to rations instead. The rest of us dug in, starving after the long day of marching, fighting, and training.

I smiled when G’hala Leveled Up and found an enormous knife in her System chest. Well, she claimed it was a knife, but it wasn’t that much smaller than my cutlass. At least eighteen inches of blade, if I had to guess. She happily removed her old knife from her belt and strapped on the new scabbard, testing the draw. I sighed when I looked around at the team, noticing again Arlo’s absence. We could certainly have used his firepower in that fight! Not that his guns were all I valued about him, of course.

I also want to see his face when he has to bite into a massive, dripping monster heart. Because we’re friends, and that’s what friends are for, right?!