Loopbreaker

Francis spat, shaking his head, and then took a deep breath.

“You’re not winning as easily as you were,” he muttered, eyes locked on the rhino-kin that struggled to move its left leg.

It felt weird; 78 deaths had passed, yet Francis was slowly climbing the impossible mountain before him. Multiple loops, a single blow was all it took to end his life. He had to learn to read the beast’s movements better and avoid its attacks while trying to bleed his opponent out.

When Francis first faced this beast, he wasn’t fast enough.

Even when he reached the proficient rank in Strength over 50 deaths ago, that alone hadn’t been enough to keep him alive. Yet right now, Francis was winning because he didn’t quit. With each death, he grew stronger, learned something, and used it to get better.

Gripping the hilt of his sword tightly, Francis ignored that half of it was broken off again and motioned at the beast. It glared, its left hand missing, right arm covered in blood, gashes all over its chest and legs. Easily two dozen small cuts were on its back, which transformed its grey skin to a new color. Red: the color of death.

No other beast came near. Like when he had faced the female tiger-kin, there seemed to be some code, some honor amongst them. On top of that, the spell Francis had expected to come never came. No sheet of death rained down.

It felt like when Stenson and the beast that killed the general fought. None interfered.

The rhino came forward, limping, unable to get down on all fours.

Francis waited.

He couldn’t run. There was no way he could escape if he wanted to. That last exchange had fractured his femur. The pain wanted him to acknowledge it, but his Pain Resistance skill and mental fortitude pushed it away.

Still, he waited, the weapon fragment now more like a dagger. It could still cut, just not as deeply.

Both arms came down toward him from the rhino, which was trying to smash him once again into the ground. Francis dove forward, hearing a crack, pain calling out for his attention as his femur gave out under the pressure of his movement.

[ New Skill - Death’s Dance ( Epic ) - 1 ]

His body suddenly roared with a power he hadn’t known was possible. All the pain and hurt he felt flowed through him into his chest and then returned almost tenfold, strengthening every part of him as Francis swung.

[ Power Strike ]

The jagged piece of metal cut the beast from its stomach to its groin, carving a section of flesh over four inches deep.

A crashing sound came when the rhino-kin fell behind him.

Gone was the pain. Instead, a fire burned in his chest.

He knew he was going to die, but before he did, Francis wanted to be sure he defeated this rhino-kin.

Hobbling like a one-legged man, he jumped awkwardly onto the beast's back. He began to claw his way across it, driving his weapon deep so he could pull himself along the rough skin.

Right before Francis reached its neck, the rhino-kin rolled, and he discovered what a seed between the grinding wheels experiences.

***

The sound of the morning bell rang.

“So early,” Francis sighed.

“Way earlier than usual,” Michael replied. His brother groaned and sat up. “I guess we'd better get dressed and get out there. I don’t want to be late.”

Smiling, Francis got off his bed and stood before his brother. Without asking, he grabbed him, yanking Michael off the bed with ease, and wrapped both arms around him.

“I love you,” Francis whispered.

“What the… I… I love you, too, but when the hell did you get this strong? And stop squeezing me, you moron. You’re crushing my chest!”

Laughing, Francis ignored Michael for a second longer and then let his brother go, giving him a playful slap.

“What in the world is wrong with you? And… how… how did you do that to me?” Michael asked.

“Maybe I’ve just been holding back so you don’t feel so bad that your younger brother can kick your ass.”

“Yeah… we both know that’s a lie,” Michael replied. “Still…” His brother paused and frowned, giving Francis another glance. “I’m serious, something's different… but we don’t have time to stand here and act like idiots. I don’t want Phillip using me as a training dummy today.”

“No worries. Just wanted to let you know I love you,” Francis said, moving to grab his boots. “Now let’s get going. Today’s going to be a great day.”

“I swear you must have been hit with a stone yesterday at some point,” Michael muttered quietly. “Great day…”

[ Status ]

Francis Lancaster

Age 17

Strength: 27

Endurance: 29

Agility: 28

Wisdom: 15

Perception: 21

Magic: 10

Skills

Swordsmanship (Common) - 51 Advanced

Shield Use (Common) - 38 Proficient

Tracking (Uncommon) - 11 Novice

Stealth (Uncommon) - 11 Novice

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Traps (Uncommon) - 3 Basic

Rock Throwing (Common) - 7 Basic

Mental Resist (Uncommon) - 25 Novice

Blood of the Undying (Unknown)- 100+ Sage

Fast Learner (Epic) - 1 Basic (Locked)

Mace (Common) - 6 Basic

Horseback Riding (Common)- 8 Basic

Horseback Handling (Uncommon) - 6 Basic

Pain Resistance (Uncommon) - 29 Proficient

Poison Resistance (Rare) - 10 Basic

Power Strike (Rare) - 7 Basic

Brawling (Uncommon) - 25 Proficient

Strong Bones (Rare) - 18 Novice

Death’s Dance (Epic) - 1 Basic

Another Epic skill… I… I can’t even imagine what this can do.

He had started believing the tales he had heard about skills and different ranks. Epic was stronger than Rare, and he knew there were supposedly Legendary and Mythic skills as well. Those were the things of stories told by bards. Masters, grandmasters, or a sage were the only ones with the chance of acquiring a skill of that rank. He remembered hearing about a noble's daughter who had supposedly acquired a legendary skill in crafting. He had considered it nothing more than a rumor—or propaganda to make a family seem better than it was. But now, he wasn’t as sure.

Not waiting to see what the skill offered, Francis pulled it up.

[ Death’s Dance ( Epic ) - This skill takes the pain and suffering of its user and converts it to bonus damage and strength. The injuries are still present, but their effects can be minimized temporarily. Duration increases as the skill increases. Can be activated when below 50% health. ]

His fingers almost fumbled the leather straps on his boot, but his agility prevented him from ruining them.

As Francis read the description of the skill he had acquired, so many thoughts flooded his mind. First, he assumed it would be leveled up the same way as all the others; he needed to spend time being hurt and in battle. That of course wouldn’t be a problem at all.

What’s the old saying? Only the metal tested in the flames and beaten upon the anvil is worthy of being forged into a weapon? I guess it’s time to be forged again.

***

His broken weapon was yanked free as he leapt off the rhino-kin’s back.

It didn’t move. It had taken a lot more deaths, but Francis had finally killed the beast. Taking a few steps, Francis tested his injured ankle but found he could still move rather well. Roars erupted around him, and he turned to see the crowd of beastkin all snarling and shouting.

One hundred and eight deaths total… how much stronger is the one Stenson–

He stopped mid-thought as the sound of something he would never forget rang out.

Perhaps half a mile away was a towering beast, and as it roared, the gathered creatures between him and it started to part.

“Oh hell!” Francis cursed.

He could see the towering orange fur shape, even from this distance. It stood out like a flame on a hill. Once again, it roared and a few seconds later, another rhino-kin near him came toward him.

This one had armor covering it everywhere except its side, leather straps holding the protection in place.

“Crap… really?”

Unsure which would be worse — death by this approaching foe or the one he had watched kill Stenson —Francis glanced around, noticing that the creatures standing near him were seemingly smiling. Frowning, he flipped his weapon around, knowing it wasn’t going to do much.

A roar came from the new challenger, and Francis yelled back, then charged as it came at him.

He wanted to say it would be legendary, that this next fight was worthy of a song echoing in a room filled with people, yet the truth was, Francis learned immediately he didn’t stand a chance.

The rhino-kins massive arm caught him as he attempted to dodge, lifting him off his feet before slamming his body into the other arm. The force of the sudden impact on both sides shattered Francis’ bones.

His body was rushed between those thick hide hands. Slowly, the rhino-kin turned around, holding him higher as it did.

All Francis could think about was what would come next. Beneath him, between those eyes that glared with hate, was a horn.

***

The sound of the morning bell called out.

He bolted out of bed, grabbing his chest, then stood bent over, panting.

“Uh… you okay?” Michael asked.

Taking a few more breaths, Francis slowly nodded. “Yeah… just… a really bad dream.”

“Ahh, the kind where you die in them?” Michael asked.

“Yeah,” Francis replied.

“Never fun. Should I ask how?”

“Impaled.”

His brother’s face contorted as he frowned. “Yeah… that doesn’t sound fun at all. Still, we need to get dressed. We both know that dream can’t be worse than upsetting Phillip..”

***

The sound of the morning bell called out.

“Craaaaaaaaap!” Francis bellowed, jerking upward from his bed.

“What’s wrong?” Michael shouted after his outburst. “I’d say you’re going to wake everyone up, but the bell already did that.”

He ignored his brother and closed his eyes.

Forty-four deaths straight and I still can’t do any damage to that thing. My damn sword won’t survive against its armor, and without a weapon, I’m just ground to dust. Even now, I’ve stalled and can't gain stats.

Francis started to put on his boots, not needing to pay attention--his body moved via muscle memory.

“So not going to tell me?” Michael asked.

“No… Today just needed to start like that,” Francis grunted.

His brother grunted and nodded. “True… Still, if you need to talk, I’m here.”

He looked at Michael and smiled. “I know. That means more than you can imagine.”

***

“I ain’t got time for this,” Zachary informed him. “I’ve got swords to make and armor to craft. The King is paying me. You aren’t.”

Francis nodded and pulled out two silver coins, holding them between his fingers.

“I just need some advice. Five minutes of your time, maybe ten tops?”

The weapon smith’s brown eyes flickered upon the two coins and then back at Francis, a slight bob of his head coming seconds later.

“Boys, watch the coals. I’ll be back in ten!” After lifting off his leather apron, Zachary motioned for Francis to follow. They arrived near the shed that had all the swords stored for the king’s army; once there, the man reached in, pulled out a water skin and took a long drink from it.

“Pay first, then ask away. Nine minutes.”

Choosing not to argue, and knowing it didn’t matter since he could simply redo the conversation, Francis dropped the coins into the smith’s outstretched hand.

I guess I should be thankful that I grew up in a house that handled ore and crafting.

“How does one get a sword that won’t break like these will against an armored foe?”

Clearing his throat, Zachary spat. “You’re one of Phillip’s boys. How… or perhaps why do you need to know that?”

“Does it matter? I’m not looking to steal anything, but I’ve paid for knowledge. The ore or metal you use in those swords behind you will only last so long, and after enough attacks, they get dinged up and eventually break. Even if you had one of better quality lying around, it won’t last forever. How does one get a sword like that?”

The massive man glanced at the coins in his palm and then sighed, tucking them in a pocket. “While part of me thinks I should be offended at what you just said—since the weapons I made are quite serviceable—the other part is intrigued that you’re right. The honest answer is, the ore I’m working with isn’t that great and the king isn’t looking for weapons that will last a lifetime. Just for the battle at hand.”

As he spoke, Zachary turned and retrieved a sword from one of the barrels.

“These have a thick edge, and while they’re a quality-made tool, that’s all they are. A tool. Anyone can pick up a shovel and dig a hole. These are made to be the same thing. Hold it, swing the blade, and apply enough power to slice through skin and sometimes even armor. The best part is, this will hurt even against someone in chain. You’re going to have a problem if you fight anyone in full armor, however, as they aren’t designed to damage something like that.”

“I know that,” Francis said, narrowing his question. “The ore. Did you get it from the Lancaster family?”

Snorting, Zachary shook his head.

“That’s very specific, but no. He wants too much for that stuff, so what I’m supposed to make would be wasting the quality of that ore. No, I get mine from the Briknore house.”

Francis immediately recognized part of the problem at hand.

“No way to get any of the good stuff? I mean… I know even if you did it would take days to create a weapon worthy of it, but humor me.”

Zachary laughed as he turned and put the sword back in the barrel.

“Even if I could, you couldn’t afford one. We’re talking a few gold coins at least.”

Trying not to grin, Francis nodded. “And let’s say I managed to get ahold of… maybe two gold coins. What then?”

He didn’t flinch when the smith put a thick finger against his chest.

“I’m not going to be part of a robbery or stealing, boy. Do I need to tell Phillip what you’re planning on doing?”

“I won’t steal and everything I do would be legit,” Francis replied. “How long would you need to make one?”

Zachary shoved him, his brown eyes widening when the young teen before him didn’t budge.

“You… screw off. Your ten minutes are up. Don’t come here again. I don’t need thieves or liars. You hear?!”

“You and I both know it’s not been ten minutes, but whatever,” Francis replied, moving away. He could feel the weaponsmith trying to bore holes in the back of his head.

I guess in my next loop, I’ll have to kill Dexter, then come here right after.

He started whistling as he walked off, knowing another chance to find a solution to his current problem was just a death away. With one possible solution in place, Francis moved on to the next option.