Dream Drive Ch. 10

Not only that, but his active abilities were doing a ton more damage. He'd expected to wound it - badly, even - but not drill holes through all that fur and muscle and bone. He'd just turned two hulking beasts into target practice.

Without bonuses, Jackson's strength was at 600. He had a bonus 10% Strength from his title as Tatanka Ska and another 10% from Spirit Surge. His new ability also increased the damage from essence-based attacks by another 25%.

He'd gone from having 110 Strength to having an effective 870 Strength when he used an ability. Jackson's eyes widened as he realized the implications of what he'd just done. He'd virtually octupled his raw attack power.

He'd been conservative this entire time, saving his essence for emergencies. His abilities had saved his life early on, so he'd prioritized being able to use them because he couldn't predict what would happen next, and he didn't know how his Attributes would affect him. Now that he had essence to spend, the value of Attribute investment was finally able to demonstrate itself.

"It's about fucking time!"

Rachel came at him. She looked like a petite blonde banshee that a devil had chewed up and spit back out. Her leather armor was stained and torn up; clumps of something were stuck in her hair. She can't be in a good mood.

Rachel began to shout at him, listing off complaints and flamboyantly baseless accusations, running the gambit from her mental state to Jackson's sexual fetishes. She pounded on his chest, and then, when he didn't respond quickly enough, she continued, jabbing at him with a finger to punctuate her swearing.

When she finally seemed to wear herself out for a few seconds, Jackson couldn't help but smile. It was so very her. Inside of all the crazy shit that had happened, it was a relief to find something that was constant, even if it was constantly chaotic.

"I don't know why I was expecting a thank-you," he said.

"I've got a fucking thank-you right here."

"What do y-"

Jackson's words were cut off when Rachel yanked him forward and kissed him. It was a messy, sudden kiss, lips smashed together without any prelude. He flailed his arms, trying to keep his balance. A firm hand on the back of his head kept him from escaping.

She shoved him away and wiped her lips with the back of her arm. "So," she said, "fuck you very much!"

Jackson stared at her. The feeling of the kiss still sat on his mouth, part throbbing pain, part tingling uncertainty.

"What?" she asked. "No questions? No how-the-fuck-did-you-get-here? Oh, I see." Rachel smirked. "You're puny mind has ripped asunder by the sexy glory that is me."

Jackson tried to say something. Some spluttery sounds came out of his mouth.

"We've got a lot of shit to kill," Rachel said. "See if you can keep up!" She darted away.

Jackson waffled for a moment, but she definitely had a point. He didn't want to hang around in the middle of a battlefield.

He followed her in his own fashion – long, bounding steps, using his strength to keep up with her speed. She ducked around a dead body at sharp angles; he hopped over it. That told him all he needed to know about the difference between their Attributes when it came to running. She could change directions. He was more like a freight train.

The next rattok they encountered had battered a warrior back to the line. Rachel reached it first; her sword went low, hamstringing it. It cried out as its bad leg crumpled. The warrior it was fighting seized the opportunity, stabbing it in the abdomen. Jackson's Power Thrust smashed it through its heart from the back.

Jackson's essence ticked up. He checked up and down the line, but it seems the fight was over. Their arrival tipped the slight advantage the rattok earned back the other way.

Rachel wiped her sword on the rattok's fur. "What the hell," she said. "I did half the work. Where's my essence?"

"Maybe we have to be in a party?"

"We didn't share essence then either," Rachel said.

"I'll have to look at the settings," Jackson said. "There's got to be an option to change the distribution somewhere."

"That, or it's more ammo to use against Emil Mohammed," Rachel said. "When I get my hands on that fucker he's gonna squeal like a little piggy. A piggy that isn't adorable and should die."

Jackson was both slightly disturbed and slightly satisfied with Rachel's choice of words. He wasn't feeling overly kind toward the man since he found out his soul was locked in a demonic pact. "I'll help you hold him down."

The warrior who they just saved was glancing between them, trying and failing to follow their conversation. "Tatanka Ska? My spirit guide told us you were the one that sent the light."

Jackson realized dozens of eyes were on him. Calls and shouts filled the air. The entire line was half-bent around him, watching the white mist seep out of his skin.

"Tatanka Ska has returned!"
"Shakhan's strength is with him!"
"What's that light?"
"There aren't any runes, but he holds a blessing."
"Tatanka Ska!"

Jackson didn't know what to say. He glanced at all the faces, trying to blink some words into his mouth. Nothing came to mind.

"Dumbass," Rachel said. She grabbed his spear arm and lifted it up. The warriors cheered when they saw his raised weapon.

"Tatanka Ska brings us victory!"
"Defeat the iron men!"
"Glory to Shakhan!"

"See," Rachel said. "It's not hard."

"Thanks," Jackson said.

"Hey, I can be your PR gal," Rachel said. "I'll be your people."

"My people?"

"You know," Rachel said. She put her free hand on her hip and waved the tip of her sword in circles. "You have other people call your people, that is, moi." She flipped her hand toward herself. "But our relationship will be strictly professional, so don't start imagining any kinky office shit just because I'm your subordinate. That would be extremely irresponsible and I've definitely never fantasized about that. My hair is really fucking messy right now and I'm really trying hard not to think about it." Rachel chained into more topics without stopping. "The iron men are getting closer, by the way – I assume that means Hale's soldiers? The Indians keep calling them that. Oh right, I couldn't tell you about him before, the whole fucking collar situation. It's gone now. By the way, what's the deal between you and Chaki?" Rachel fluttered her eyelashes. "I thought I was your one true love."

Jackson was struggling to select a single topic for a response. He recognized that name – Hale. Lucifer had made that man part of Jackson's quest.

Gold and fire filled Jackson's head. He turned just in time to see Chaki throwing herself at him. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and planted kisses across his neck and face. "Jackson! Are you alright?! Are you unhurt?!"

Warriors hooted and hollered at the public display. Jackson gave Chaki a quick kiss on the cheek and pried her off him, setting her on the ground. She kept a grip on his shoulder, unwilling to completely break physical contact, her face a bright grin. Jackson smiled at her.

"Well," Rachel said. Her voice was like ice pressed to the back of Jackson's neck. "I guess I've already met your fiancé."

Chaki released Jackson's and inspected Rachel up-and-down. "Are you alright? Do you need any healing? I managed to gather some essence while our men held off the rattok."

Rachel brushed her probing hands away and stepped back. "Don't mind me, just fading into the background."

Chaki frowned at her tone. "What's wrong?"

For once, Rachel had no words; she folded her arms and looked away. Jackson wasn't sure what he could say that wouldn't make the situation go from bad to worse.

Chaki looked about to ask more when they were interrupted by the arrival of Hanta and Vuntha. Jackson and Vuntha shared a quick hug and a manly pat on the back. Hanta clasped Jackson's wrist.

"Nice weapon," Jackson said, looking at the black halberd Vuntha was carrying.

Vuntha grinned. "Thanks. Picked it up from someone I met. He didn't need it anymore."

"I've never been so glad to see you," Hanta said.

"Is Yukatan around?" Jackson said. "If he's in charge, I want to know what he thinks we should do."

The mood changed in an instant. Hanta's face set itself, then clapped Jackson's shoulder. "He's dead. I'm helping to lead until this is over."

Jackson wasn't much fazed. He didn't have a grudge against Yukatan, but he didn't like the guy, either. He gave Hanta a nod. "Okay."

"Where's Shaka?"

"She almost killed herself healing me, but she's doing okay."

"Healing you?" Chaki whipped back around. "From what? What happened?"

Jackson tried to think of something quick he could tell her. He couldn't lie. She could always tell when he tried to duck around the topic. His brain failed to supply him with an explanation.

"The family reunion is really nice and all," Rachel said, "but we've got incoming!"

The line of iron men had emerged out of the snowstorm and was marching uphill toward their position. Black-armored halberdiers with nasty-looking weapons were mixed in with normal soldiers. Jackson sighed slightly, almost grateful for the quick ending to what could have been an ugly conversation. "Can we hit them with a spell or something?" he asked Hanta.

Hanta cocked his head, indicating his shoulder, on which a small blue-purple rune still pulsed. Jackson read it; it was a complex enchantment that would let Hanta activate it at will. It would give him a brief burst of speed. "This is all that's left of the enchantment placed on me," he said. "They used those monsters to draw out our magic. On that front, we don't have the advantage."

Jackson nodded. "Then why are we waiting? We have the height advantage. We should charge them."

"Those halberds are nuts," Rachel said. "They can cut people apart like they're lightsabers or something. And they're longer than our spears. Those guys even gave me trouble."

"Jackson," Hanta said, "what can you do for us?"

Jackson plopped his spear down and put a hand on his chin. His essence was now at 1100 and bleeding down slowly. He would hit his capacity soon unless he kept taking essence – unless he killed something. A lot of somethings.

He glanced at his health. He'd recovered to 150 – not bad considering he'd been fighting the whole time. That Spirit Surge ability was the best thing he'd unlocked by far.

"You think they might still have magic?"

"They should have run out of essence a long time ago," Chaki said, "but they keep casting spells, far beyond what a man should be able to do. They must have prepared huge stores for this battle. Right now we're assuming they have enough to last the duration."

"I felt lightning magic. Bolts and stuff?"

"Yeah," Rachel said. "The black box."

Jackson glanced at her. "Which you gave them?"

"It wasn't like that," Rachel said. "I was forced to."

"Explanations later," Hanta said. "Rachel is on our side."

"I know," Jackson said. "Just confused for a minute there." He looked back over the field. "Alright, here's the plan." Everyone leaned in. "I'm gonna go out there alone and make a distraction. Everyone else stay here and do whatever you can at range."

"Alone?" Vuntha asked. "That's insane, Jackson, even for you. You can't just expect us to sit here and do nothing."

"Jackson, I'm not letting you go out there by yourself," Chaki said.

Hanta put a hand on Vuntha's shoulder and raised a hand for calm. "Jackson. We have thousands here, gathered for common cause. We should work together."

"You just said they'll get killed by the halberds," Jackson said.

"And you won't?" Vuntha asked.

"You people shut up," Rachel said. "You don't know what you're talking about." She stepped up to Jackson. "You have the abilities to take them on?"

Jackson nodded. "Yeah."

"What's my role?"

"I want you to wait for their magic," Jackson said. "I'm the bait. I'll do my best to clear a path. You use your speed to take them out."

"You're going to be bait?" Chaki said. "I'm liking this less and less."

"He can handle it," Rachel said.

"He'll get himself killed," Chaki said. She looked at Jackson. "I'm sick and tired of you running off and getting into situations where I can't –"

"Hey, girl scout!" Rachel said. Chaki stopped. Everyone looked at her. "Jackson's not stupid. If he said he can do it, he can do it. You've got the mark. You're playing the game. Get with the fucking program." Rachel looked at him. "I've got your back. You sure you can take them?"

Jackson nodded. "Yep. Spin to win."

"Awesome. Don't forget to add me to your party. The rest of you dummies back off and let him do his thing."

"Jackson," Chaki said.

"Chaki," Jackson said. He glanced up at his essence. 1047, now. The iron men were no more than a hundred feet away, shields held up against oncoming arrows. "No more time. Trust me."

Chaki clenched her fists. Her lips thinned up. She opened her mouth to say something, stopped herself, then unslung her bow. "I'll cover you from here. Go."

"Alright," he said. Jackson looked at Rachel and gave her a grateful nod. She nodded back.

"Jackson," Vuntha said. He lifted his halberd. "You want this axe? It could help."

"Keep it," Jackson said. "I'll find someone who can lend me one."

Vuntha chuckled. "Don't worry, they're very generous."

Jackson gripped his spear, took a breath, and walked out from the line.

The segment of no-man's-land between the two armies was not a good place to be. This was emphasized by growing drifts of snow, muddy craters, and corpses. Jackson moved alone between the lines, slowly walking forward. An arrow was launched at him from the back of the iron men's army, but it thunked into the snow a few feet away.

Jackson brought up the command for forming parties and invited Rachel. A sharp ting announced her joining up with him. She was added to the minimap in the corner of his vision, a green arrow next to the arrow that marked Chaki.

Rather than hunt through the menus, Jackson tried to mentally ask the system for party settings. The relevant screen popped up in front of him. He scrolled through it as he walked. He found several options for essence distribution; it was set on Killer Takes All by default. Jackson changed it to Split.

As party leader, he could change the split to anything he wanted, from 50/50 to 99/1. For a moment, he thought about doing something like 75/25, considering he was going to be the one doing all the work this time around, but he settled on 50/50. No need to be greedy. Apparently something was going on, but when she had a choice, Rachel picked his side. That was worth a lot of points, as far as he was concerned.

Maybe there was a way he could change the settings between himself and Chaki. She didn't collect essence per se, but rather, her level seemed to increase after a certain number of kills. He'd have to ask her about that later.

Jackson closed the screens and got his spear ready. The soldiers in front of him had lowered their weapons; they eyed him warily. He imagined he must look weird - a solitary figure out on the slope, skin glowing, white smoke coming off his body.

His essence was at 1010, and ticking away bit by bit. He was close to his actual capacity. The first attack would have to count. Staying in overflow was vital, especially because it was increasing his health regeneration.

Jackson stopped. The army kept coming, a solid wall of steel shields and spears, with black halberds lined across it at even intervals. It bore down on him in a heavy, regular rhythm, thirty feet away, then twenty, then ten.

Troops near Jackson hunkered down. Crossbowmen, having moved up while hidden their midst, had their bolts pointed straight at him.

Jackson had expected magic, so it was a pleasantly nice surprise.

He let out a War Cry.

A cone of essence formed at his mouth. His shout was amplified into a hundred-lion roar, blasting directly into the troops. They shuddered to a halt, bumping one another, wincing and flinching away from the sound. The crossbowmen loosed – they all missed. One of them hit their own man in the back. Their wall of spears faltered.

Jackson's essence dropped down to 980. His white haze faded. He felt the loss as Spirit Surge flickered away. Shit.

Too late to change plans. Jackson ran forward and cocked his spear over his shoulder. He activated his sole combination attack, Double Power Spin.

His essence dropped to 910. He felt the power collect in his arms, a spring waiting to fly open. He turned sideways to slip between two outstretched spears, then let fly.

His spear blasted through the men, a white-hot bar edged with energy. He cut through armor and bodies alike, spinning around once, and then again. Jackson didn't stop, activating his ability again in succession. He whirled around like a mad farmer hacking down wheat with a long straight scythe.

He came to a halt with a slight stumble, bringing his spear back to his chest. His vision spun slightly, then settled. He glanced around; his skin was glowing again, his essence over 1000. His plan was a wild success.

He thought he might be sick.

He stood in a circle of blood. The stuff was splattered over the snow in 360 degrees. Limbs and pieces of things that should be inside instead of out were laying everywhere, all pointed away from the epicenter of his ability.

The unluckiest weren't dead – the ones struck near the beginning or end of his attack, when the power was weakest. The shaft of his weapon had crushed them like tin cans.

Jackson forced down the nausea and stepped over the bodies. He turned his walk into a jog, and unleashed another War Cry. The soldiers cowered before him; some dropped their weapons. Others turned and tried to run, but they were trapped by the troops behind them.

Jackson swept through them with another Double Power Spin. For a moment after he used the ability, he left overflow. The kills he racked up brought him surging back over his capacity once more.

He activated the ability again, and this time, he stayed in Spirit Surge for the duration of the move. He could feel the difference. The black armor that had once numbed his hands now crumpled and ripped like all the rest. The extra power of his ability couldn't be stopped.

When Jackson's second spin came to a halt, a black-armored halberdier was waiting. He gutted Jackson through the abdomen and held his weapon there, twisting it to the side. Jackson felt an odd numbness in his feet; his health dropped by 45 points and slid further. He grunted against the sensation and used a Power Thrust, walking up the man's blade and striking him in the chest.

The man's armor opened as if a bomb had gone off inside of it. He was thrown off his feet and into another group of soldiers with a gaping hole in his body. Jackson dropped his spear and wrenched the halberd out of his body. He had a moment of peace while the men nearby circled him, trying to coordinate an attack.

"Analyze."

Black-Steel Soul-Fused Halberd
A high-carbon steel Halberd created by combining expert blacksmithing and magical enchantment using the power of a human soul.
- Rune Slots: 0
- Durability: Very High

Notice: You have equipped a halberd for the first time. Some experience will carry over from Spears and Spear Expertise. Stances pertaining to each weapon may still only be used with that weapon.

Immediately, the halberd felt different in his hands; he realized he was holding it wrong. Jackson adjusted his grip, setting one palm along the shaft facing up, the other down. He bent his knees slightly.

As Jackson's attention focused on his weapon, he could sense something else – something inside of it. It was at the edge of the axe, stuck along the blade. A voice shrieked at him.