“Ice Prison!”
A pale blue light surged forth from the monsters, and towering ice cages erupted from the ground, once again trapping them in place.
“Rock Burst!”
Qing Bai swiftly flipped through her grimoire, materializing a massive, dark-red stone that immediately hurtled towards the immobilized swarm of monsters.
Bang!
The Rock Burst detonated explosively the instant it struck the monsters, instantly slashing their health by three-quarters.
Without the slightest pause, Qing Bai unleashed another crowd control spell.
“Wood Vine Entangle.”
Dark green vines emerged from beneath the River Poison Frogs’ feet, binding them firmly in place.
A smirk played on Qing Bai’s lips as she raised her grimoire high, unleashing her final skill.
“Flame Well!”
The ground beneath the River Poison Frogs transformed into a pool of molten hell, from which magma erupted skyward. Amidst the intense heat, all the River Poison Frogs’ health bars were depleted, and their grotesque bodies dissolved into motes of light, vanishing within the still-gushing pillars of magma.
A flash of white light enveloped Qing Bai, instantly boosting her three levels to twenty-five, while Yan also reached level twenty-nine, coming within a hair’s breadth of thirty.
“Such incredible casting speed.”
Yan remarked, looking at Qing Bai with a hint of awe.
“That entire sequence of spells would normally take a mage three minutes to cast, yet you finished it in under one.”
“Moreover, if you don’t chain your crowd control spells before the previous one expires, these monsters could instantly wipe out any damage dealer at this level.”
“Weaving damage spells between control abilities with such rapid casting speed is a feat impossible for any mage not specializing in Agility.”
“Hmph hmph, this young lady is simply that formidable.”
She placed her hands on her hips triumphantly, a proud expression gracing her face.
“After this young lady chugged her magic potion, her casting speed soared to 2700. Surpassing the 2400 threshold reduces the cast time of all low-mana cost Tier 1 and Tier 2 skills by one-third.”
The magic potion grants +700 casting speed, her grimoire adds another +1000, and with all her attribute points allocated to Agility, she gains an additional 600 points. Furthermore, the grimoire’s effect of +20% casting speed meant that even at level 22, Qing Bai’s casting speed had already breached the formidable 2400 barrier, reaching the second stage.
A typical Agility Mage at this level would barely possess a thousand casting speed. Agility Mages were inherently a late-game powerhouse build.
“Wait, that doesn’t add up. If the cast time is reduced by a third, shouldn’t that skill sequence still take two minutes to execute?”
Yan quickly did the math, sensing something amiss, and cast a puzzled glance at Qing Bai.
“How did you manage to finish it in under a minute?”
“Well…”
Qing Bai averted her gaze, intending to brush him off, but her eyes couldn’t help but steal glances at Yan’s reaction. Seeing his utterly curious expression, she closed her eyes, wrestling with herself for a moment.
“Ah! Fine! This young lady will grudgingly enlighten a commoner such as yourself!”
She stamped her foot, putting an end to her inner turmoil.
“It’s because of this young lady’s innate skill.”
“High-Speed Incantation:
All skill cast times reduced by 50%. Agility points are equivalent to Dexterity points (i.e., faster casting speed leads to faster action speed).”
“Isn’t that an innate skill with an incredibly high bonus for Agility Mages!?”
Yan exclaimed. This innate skill not only slashed the extremely high entry barrier for Agility Mages by half, but it also made them twice as powerful as other Agility Mages in the late game. The combined effect of Agility and Dexterity points ensured Qing Bai’s survivability; after all, faster action speed translates to faster movement speed. Once her Agility points are maxed, Qing Bai would possess the movement speed of a fully agile assassin!
“It’s precisely because of this innate skill that this young lady decided to play an Agility Mage!”
Qing Bai responded to Yan’s exclamations.
“Oh, right, that makes sense. Truly worthy of a pro player.”
Yan recalled that in the old server, he had also chosen to play a Strength Greatsword build only after acquiring the ‘Heavy Strike’ (TL Note: A skill that increases Strength by 60% for a single attack) skill, which led to his current maxed-out Strength (STR) stat.
“Stop just marveling!”
Qing Bai looked at Yan, a hint of sullenness in her gaze, seemingly waiting for him to say something.
An awkward silence hung between them.
“Um… what’s wrong?”
Yan looked at Qing Bai, who was still staring at him, utterly bewildered, unsure of how he had managed to displease the young lady this time.
“Your innate skill! What is it? You can’t just keep it hidden when Tian Jiu and I have both revealed ours.”
“Oh, right.”
Yan clapped his hands, realizing his oversight. These past few days, his mind had been consumed with how to conceal the bug affecting him, making him forget that in a game like ‘Divine Companions’ (TL Note: The game’s name, ‘Bansheng Shenyu’), if someone reveals their innate skill to you, it’s customary to reciprocate. It was a matter of basic etiquette.
After all, an innate skill represented the core of a player’s build, akin to the unique abilities of superpowered individuals. If someone who knew your innate skill became your adversary, you would essentially be an open book to them, left with no hidden cards to play.
Therefore, those who revealed their innate skills truly trusted the other person, or at the very least, believed they wouldn’t become opponents. Exchanging information about one’s innate skill was a crucial part of forging friendships in this game.
Unfortunately, Yan couldn’t yet reveal everything about himself. Although he felt Qing Bai wasn’t the type to betray him, he simply couldn’t expose his bug to anyone else. After all, if it were discovered, his account might be banned, a fate utterly unacceptable for someone who loved this game so deeply.
Thus, he decided to reveal only one.
“My innate skill is ‘Agile Control’.”
Yan offered Qing Bai a slight smile, revealing his new innate skill.
“When wielding a weapon, one can control weapons and equipment as extensions of their body at will. Weapon and personal attributes are increased by 20%. Even when separated from the body, weapons retain 10% of the wielder’s inherent abilities.”
“What’s that supposed to be? So weak…”
Qing Bai scoffed at him with a pitying look.
“And ‘when wielding a weapon, one can control them at will,’ and ‘even when separated from the body, weapons retain 10% of the wielder’s inherent abilities’—what kind of ability is that? Are you a Weapon Master or something?”
Yan merely shook his head with a gentle smile, unfazed by Qing Bai’s teasing.
Indeed, for most other players, this innate skill would be considered rather lackluster.
After all, the prevailing playstyle in this game involved maxing out one attribute and heavily specializing in another.
Just like his Greatsword account in the old server, where Strength was maxed and Defense was specialized.
For such attribute distributions, a ‘20% increase to weapon and all personal attributes’ bonus would seem largely insignificant.
However, Yan possessed max-level attribute points at level one.
This meant he essentially had an extra specialized attribute and a maxed attribute compared to other players, and he would naturally allocate any newly gained attribute points from leveling to other stats.
In such a scenario, that 20% bonus to all attributes became truly terrifying.
Furthermore, the seemingly useless description ‘when wielding a weapon, one can control them at will’ turned out not to be entirely without merit, as Yan discovered during his two days of leveling.
It’s common knowledge that in RPGs, once a skill is cast, it cannot be actively canceled. No matter how urgent the situation, even if a boss’s claw was moments away from crushing your skull, a player casting a skill would have no choice but to grimly see it through before performing any other action.
Yet, Yan found he could cancel his own skills, a capability he attributed to this very description.
This was a significant boon for Yan. After all, he possessed some proficiency in spear arts in real life, making the process of executing skills inherently fluid for him. Now, he could even forcibly interrupt a skill mid-cast and switch to a different move or ability.
Countering moves on the fly was a fundamental principle of martial arts. Enhanced by this innate skill, Yan not only enjoyed the benefits of his spear arts skills but also broke free from the constraints of RPG skill casting, truly becoming a ‘Weapon Master’ (TL Note: A play on words, ‘dai shi’ can mean ‘substitute master’ or ‘master of generations’, implying mastery over weapons).
In that sense, Qing Bai’s teasing wasn’t entirely wrong, either.
“Why are you looking at me like that? Your smile is disgusting.”
Qing Bai, a look of disgust on her face, hugged her grimoire and stepped back half a pace, as if to distance herself from Yan, who was still smiling at her.
“Nothing, let’s just keep leveling.”
Yan shrugged and once again advanced toward the respawned River Poison Frogs.
He continued to aggro monsters with Shockwave as usual. It wasn’t that he preferred Shockwave; it was primarily because this skill didn’t scale with his STR attribute. If he were to use a physical AOE skill like Wind Spear Wheel to aggro, he’d undoubtedly obliterate the monsters instantly.
After luring twenty monsters, he would stop using Shockwave, wait for Qing Bai to fully restore her mana with ‘Mana Recharge,’ then lead the River Poison Frogs to her, where Qing Bai would repeat her previous combo.
Before long, Yan’s level rose to 32, and Qing Bai also reached level 29.
“Let’s stop here for now. Give me the materials you’ve gathered; I’ll use them for cooking.”
“Oh.”
Qing Bai replied, handing the materials to Yan, who then proceeded to set up a bonfire on the spot.
“Wait a second.”
Qing Bai suddenly realized something, her expression slowly turning to horror.
“Don’t tell me… the magic potion was made from the materials of *these* things?”
She pointed at the River Poison Frogs, their faces contorted in grotesque grins, their heads covered in pustules, looking utterly repulsive.
“Mm-hmm.”
Yan nodded nonchalantly, continuing to cook his meal.
“Ehh!!?????? *Gag*…”
Her face instantly turned green as a wave of nausea washed over her. She quickly clapped both hands over her mouth. Though this body couldn’t actually vomit anything, the physical and psychological revulsion was utterly uncontrollable.
“Why didn’t you say so earlier… *whimper*…”
Qing Bai’s face flushed crimson, on the verge of tears.
“Huh? Didn’t the item name clearly say ‘River Frog Magic Potion’?”
Yan said, spreading his hands helplessly.
“With such amazing stats on the potion, who would bother paying attention to the item name?! *Gulp*…”
She barely managed to suppress the rising nausea in her throat, ranting furiously.
Just then, a River Poison Frog respawned directly in front of her, its pustule-covered face meeting Qing Bai’s gaze…
“*Gag*…”