ã€ŠAggro Healerã€‹


 Chapter 1: A Rude Awakening

    Chapter 1: A Rude Awakening

    Day 1

    I fell from the sky.

    Naked, cock flapping between my legs. Screaming, wind bulging my cheeks. I broke through cottony clouds, moisture clinging to my skin.

    A calm, sapphire sea waited below, capped by a wide shore that stretched as far as I could see on each side. Beyond that, verdant lands of green dotted with clusters of houses, a web of dirt roads running between them.

    It was all coming at me terribly fast.

    My stomach flipped. I would have thrown up if I¡¯d eaten anything. I flapped my limbs instinctively to slow my rapid descent. That, of course, didn¡¯t help at all.

    What the fuck is happening? I thought, no memory of why I was falling. No memory of anything, in fact.

    Despite my confusion, the world didn¡¯t slow for me. The sea was getting closer. I could make out the individual waves, foaming blades that spent themselves upon the shore and dissipated into the sand.

    ¡°Please¡ª¡± I cried, but the wind caught down my throat and choked out my voice.

    The water was only seconds away, and my internal prayers to whoever might be listening went unanswered. I went flat as a nail, feet first, and squeezed my hands to my sides. I drew in a sharp breath, and¡ª

    I hit the surface and drove deep into the cold, murky depths, all sense knocked free. My mouth came open in a silent gasp and brine rushed into my lungs. I clawed at the dark whorls, hands finding no purchase, and the next panicked breath only brought more water.

    The current picked me up as my wriggling limbs lost their strength. I could barely make out a twinkle of sunlight at the surface, taunting me. I kicked with all the uncoordinated fervor I had left in me, but the current pushed me back down with brutal apathy.

    My head struck something hard. Time bled away from me, body going limp.

    *****

    I woke up.

    There was a surprise.

    I coughed up water, curled onto my side, and sucked in a triumphant lungful of pure, blissful air.

    I was content with that for a while. Just breathing, letting my head rest on the warm sand.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    Eventually, I sat, blinking salt from my eyes as I surveyed the unknown landscape. Up close, I noticed rickety buildings stood on the flat hillside above the shore. Wooden towers that leaned with age. Wizened, lonely sentinels.

    I squinted up at the blue sky.

    ¡°What was I doing up there?¡± I wondered aloud, rubbing sand from my hair. ¡°And for that matter, where am I now?¡± Looking around, I found nothing that tethered my gaze, nothing that jogged my memory.

    I struggled to remember my name, but couldn¡¯t recall if I¡¯d even had one to begin with.

    Standing, I found several sets of footprints in the damp sand, not yet washed away by the stubborn waves. Human ones.

    That had to be a good sign.

    I followed the footprints, hoping to find someone who could explain what the hell was going on. Glancing at the towers to my right, I saw something glint in a darkened window.

    There could be people in there, I thought, turning towards the old building.

    Or maybe there are monsters.

    I turned away, continuing along my path. You know what, I¡¯ll leave it alone for now.

    Sudden, burning pain in my right arm caught my attention. Frowning at it, I found a section of my forearm darkening, forming a pattern. The pain intensified, drawing a gasp, as the mark grew black, standing stark against my pale skin.

    The mark took the shape of a circle with an open-palmed hand inside it. The pain faded, and I hesitantly touched the unbroken skin.

    What¡¯s that all about? I wondered.

    Another wave of pain brought me to my knees. Something sharp pushed against the skin below the mark, bulging it, wriggling like a parasitic maggot. I rubbed furiously at it, yielding no result.

    The skin split open, a blue lump of crystal the size of a thumbnail nudging through. There was no blood. The crystal lit up with a faint glow, and the pain ceased.

    ¡°What is all this crap?¡± I hissed between clenched teeth, rising. I studied the little crystal. Tapped it, pulled it, gnawed it. It was stuck, as much a part of me as my eyes or my fingers.

    ¡°Man. I don¡¯t know where I am, but I hate it already.¡±

    The squat door of the nearest tower burst open. Men filed onto the beach, five of them, wearing heavy gambesons with only one sleeve, exposing their right arms. I was happy to see the face of other humans, even scarred, stubbly, sunken-eyed ones.

    On instinct, I began to walk towards them, a huge grin splitting my face.

    Then I noticed the coiled-up chains they each wore around their left arm, ending in heavy manacles.

    Memories or not, I had a clue what that meant. And it was nothing good.

    The group of men eyed me hungrily, no doubt already seeing one of those manacles clamped around my wrist.

    I turned and ran, feet slipping in the sand.

    They came after, shouting. Telling me to stop. That they just wanted to talk. That I was being a fool.

    I didn¡¯t believe them.

    I hoofed it up the beach, keeping the sea on my left. I didn¡¯t have any destination in mind besides getting away from those men. It took me a minute to get used to running in the sand, and they gained on me then. Once I got the hang of it I quickly outpaced them, their heavy equipment weighing them down.

    Others came out of the towers to my right, but none seemed eager to take up the chase. The line of buildings ended, replaced by sparse forestation. Looking back, I found that the men had given up and were trudging back where they came from.

    Panting, hands on my naked knees, I took a minute to catch my breath.

    ¡°This place is utterly insane,¡± I said. ¡°Do I live here? What the fuck.¡±

    With a shrug, I wandered into the forest. It couldn¡¯t be any worse in there than with those crazies.

    Could it?

 Chapter 2: Chain Link

    Chapter 2: Chain Link

    I was not impressed by the change in locale.

    Biting insects stung my neck, back, scalp, and just about everywhere else they could fit their greedy little bodies, even up my ass. I swatted at them, producing every curse I somehow knew in a never-ending stream. A growing cloud of mosquitoes and horseflies was forming around me, undeterred by their dead comrades squashed into my skin.

    Ducking under low branches, I stepped gingerly to avoid slicing my bare feet open on sharp rocks. I wasn¡¯t hungry yet, but when I found a group of blueberry bushes I stopped to pick a handful, eating them on the move.

    It struck me as odd that I could identify blueberries or individual insects, while unable to remember where, or who, I was.

    But there was no time for philosophizing just yet. I had to find someplace safe to hunker down, away from the insects and inhospitable locals, before figuring out my next move.

    I kept my eyes peeled for anything that could be used as clothing, but found little. The trees I found had small leaves and crumbly bark. The moss coating the ground wouldn¡¯t do, either. I¡¯d have to find and kill an animal to take its hide. But to do that, I¡¯d need a weapon. A spear or a bow.

    That wouldn¡¯t be easy.

    Priorities. Shelter first, then a weapon, then clothes. Maybe a fire if it gets too cold at night. I¡¯d rather not tip anyone off to where I am, though. Not before I can defend myself.

    Deep in thought, I entered a small clearing. I nearly stepped on a conspicuous pile of leaves, but noticed it at the last moment and backed up. Bending down, I brushed the leaves aside, finding a net made of thin strips of soft bark stretched over a deep pit.

    A trap, huh? Not very well hidden. I¡¯d have felt like an idiot if I fell in.

    I stood, scanning the edges of the clearing. I found multiple sets of big, amber eyes watching me.

    Not human.

    Definitely not human.

    I was surrounded, which made running a bad idea. Not wanting to fight, I raised my hands.

    ¡°I¡¯m friendly!¡± I called, holding little hope that the locals would share my sentiment. ¡°Just come on out and we can talk.¡±

    Silence.

    Then whispers. Quiet at first, but growing louder. Guttural words that my brain couldn¡¯t make sense of.

    An insistent voice shrieked a command, and the rest quieted. I spun, trying to hold all the mysterious entities with my gaze, trying to look past the shadows and make out their features.

    I strained my ears, heard a faint creak that took me a moment to place.

    Bowstring.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    I moved, but not fast enough. An arrow shot out from behind a bush at the corner of my vision. It whistled as it flew, embedding itself deep in my right thigh mid-step.

    I cried out, leg failing, and fell backward.

    A tide of small, unwashed creatures rushed into the clearing. Green-skinned, clad in rags. Sharp-toothed, long-nosed, and heavy of brow. They brandished simple weapons, from sharpened stick spears to flint knives and blades of sharpened scrap metal.

    There were about a dozen of them. A larger creature, corpulent and with a headdress crafted from an animal skull, commanded its miniature army from atop a large rock, screaming and pointing.

    I crawled away, kicking with my good leg, but only ended up with my back against the pit. My leg thumped with searing hot pain, and warm blood pushed past the uneven arrow shaft still embedded in my thigh.

    ¡°Motherfucker¡­¡± I hissed.

    I briefly contemplated the idea of pulling out the arrow and using it as a weapon, but dismissed it. It was too dainty a tool, even for my diminutive opponents.

    The creatures circled around me, inching closer, drawing confidence in numbers.

    I fumbled around blindly for something I could use, anything. My hand closed around a thick branch. I hoisted it up and swung it around. The green-skins shrank back, jabbering, cowardly in the face of resistance.

    The leader spurred them on, shouting himself hoarse. The creatures nudged forward, clearly more afraid of their leader than of me.

    One of them thrust with a spear. I batted the weapon aside with my branch, the spear flipping away, and the creature jumped back. Others took its place, more eager.

    A jagged knife dug into my left shoulder, tearing muscle. I swore and shoved the creature away with my body weight, knife clattering to the ground.

    Teeth gritted, I struggled through the pain. While I was distracted, three of the creatures grasped at my branch and pulled. I tried to hold on, but I was unable to lift my injured arm to grasp it with both hands. They yanked it away from me. Cheers rose among the little monsters.

    This is it, I thought, dizzy from the pain. I¡¯m not going to make it.

    The leader of the green-skins laughed¡ªa shrill, unpleasant sound. It rubbed its chubby hands together like a greedy merchant, a red tongue flitting over sharp teeth.

    The sight of it made my blood boil. One of the creatures stepped close, raising its rusted short sword to finish me off.

    ¡°You think I¡¯d let you!¡± I cried. I caught the descending blade in my right hand, the edge slicing through my skin, and twisted it out of the creature¡¯s hand. I elbowed it in the head, sending it tumbling ass over head with a flattened nose.

    Something burned within me, focused in my right arm. Awakened by my need, my rage.

    I felt a word on the tip of my tongue, buzzing with power.

    I raised my hand towards the green-skin leader.

    ¡°Bind!¡±

    The blue crystal on my arm winked out, going dark. From my palm extended a glowing, ethereal chain. It shot across the clearing like a striking serpent, wrapping itself around the leader¡¯s throat. It let out a choked gurgle and clawed in vain at the links of spectral metal.

    The chain ran out and settled comfortably into my hand. I dug my foot into the ground and pulled with all my strength, putting my back into it. The leader sailed through the air towards me, eyes bulged.

    I smiled.

    The leader¡¯s soft gut collided with my fist, and the creature heaved a breathless sigh. It collapsed to the ground, and its servants stared dumbly as I climbed on top of the creature and wrapped the chain tighter, slowly choking the life out of the fat little green-skin.

    Something dark took hold of me. Teeth gritted, I pulled until I heard the sharp pop of a neck breaking. I let the chain dissipate into nothing. Looking up, the green-skins were already running away, disappearing among the trees as quickly as they had appeared, frantic chatter fading.

    Good thing these guys are cowards, I thought. I¡¯d be fucked if they actually stood their ground.

    Breathing heavy, I clutched my bleeding shoulder.

    I was going to need a minute.

 Chapter 3: An Afternoon Stroll

    Chapter 3: An Afternoon Stroll

    I took a minute to look myself over and check my injuries. I was soaked in blood, but enough of it had stayed on the inside, I reckoned. I wouldn¡¯t bleed out.

    I salvaged the net that covered the green-skins¡¯ trap and untied the bark strips. Dislodging the arrow with a twist, a tug, and an undignified whimper, I used the bark as makeshift rope to tie a clump of moss over my thigh, stemming the bleeding somewhat.

    I fastened a branch to my leg, a rudimentary splint, and hung the rest of the bark over my shoulder. Every moment of my wounded left arm was a struggle, shoulder tugging, but I forced myself to keep moving.

    The green-skin leader had started to stink. Actually, it had always stunk, but it was getting really bad. I suspected that it had shat itself upon death. Regardless, I would need every advantage I could get. I crept over to loot its corpse, breathing through my mouth.

    Triumphantly, I pulled out a rusted dagger from within the folds of its putrid garments, clearly made for human hands. The edge was dulled and nicked by frequent use, and old blood had dried into the flat, but I wasn''t feeling too picky.

    A great find. Exactly what I needed.

    I didn¡¯t dare use any of the leader¡¯s clothing for fear of disease. Just the smell of excrement and rot was enough to put me off.

    The fallen spear that one of the green-skins had left behind would be of no use. Too thin. Another had left a small knife, however, which I eagerly stuck through my splint along with the dagger. It would make for a decent throwing knife in a pinch.

    Putting my rickety splint to the test, I tried to stand. Fell on my ass. Tried again, with similar results. I managed it on the third go, putting most of my weight on the left leg. I hissed through sharp stabs of pain and waited until it faded a little.

    ¡°Coming off to a great start,¡± I muttered. ¡°Already half dead. Seems everything in this godforsaken place wants to kill me.¡±

    With a deep breath, I forced my mind back on the task. To waste time whining was a privilege I couldn¡¯t afford at the moment.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got to get out of here, and fast, before those green-skins decide they want revenge.¡±

    With a frown, I realized I didn¡¯t know what they were called. Staring at the dead leader, I tried to put a name to the creature, but was unable to.

    Strange. I¡¯d been able to place every other animal I¡¯d seen almost instantly. What made them different?

    Later. Priorities.

    Holding up my right arm, I inspected the dead crystal imbedded in my forearm. It seemed it was somehow connected to the feat I had performed. Magic. Miracle. Whatever it was.

    ¡°Bind!¡± I said with feigned enthusiasm.

    Nothing happened.

    The crystal was glowing, but it went dark when I summoned the chain. It was likely the thing providing the energy for that feat. But now it¡¯s gone. Is there any way to get it back?

    Upon looking at my forearm, I found that the black mark above the crystal had changed. The very bottom edge of the circle had lit up with a white glow. Touching the skin, I found it felt no different than before.If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Yet more things to keep in mind. For now, I¡¯ve got to move.

    I limped out of the clearing, eyes darting between the ground and the trees around me as I scanned for traps and green-skins.

    A good shelter, that¡¯s what I need. Someplace defensible, like a cave.

    I wandered, quickly losing all sense of direction. I contemplated digging grooves into the trees with my dagger to mark my path, but thought better of it. The green-skins could use it to track me.

    The blood loss had me woozy, shivering. My skin was slick with blood and cold sweat. Every step jolted my bad leg, making me wince.

    I pushed through it. Giving up meant dying. And memories or no, I knew I wasn¡¯t a quitter.

    The bland, uniform forest gave way to a burbling stream, wide as two men shoulder to shoulder. The water was clear enough, so I slowly lowered myself next to the stream and scooped a handful to my mouth.

    It was mostly flavorless, with only a slight rusty aftertaste. I figured that was as good as I would get, so I drank my fill. I decided to stay close to the stream, both as a landmark, but also because water would be one of my most valuable resources, and I didn¡¯t trust myself to find my way back if I left.

    Common sense told me that going downstream would lead me to civilization. I didn¡¯t want to run into any more crazies, though, so I went the opposite direction.

    Taking frequent breaks to ease some weight off my injured leg, I made my way through the forest. I saw no green-skins, but I thought I could hear their jabbering at times. Whether they were following me or just happened to be close by, I couldn¡¯t tell.

    The sun passed quickly overhead. It was already afternoon. I¡¯d have to find shelter before nightfall, or things could get ugly. I didn¡¯t fancy stumbling around on my bad leg in the black of night. Especially since I didn¡¯t know if the green-skins possessed any degree of night vision.

    I didn¡¯t want to find out, either.

    Looking down, I found that the crystal on my arm had lit back up.

    ¡°Huh,¡± I said. ¡°Isn¡¯t that something?¡±

    It seemed that the crystal regained its energy after a certain amount of time. I itched to see if I could reproduce the feat with the chain. Settling my gaze on a nearby pine tree, I raised my hand.

    ¡°Bind!¡±

    A chain leaped out of my palm and looped around the tree trunk. Tightening seemingly of its own accord, it dug a groove into the outer layer of bark. Just like before, the stone studded into my skin went dark.

    Testing the chain¡¯s range, I backed up until the metal links stopped coming. I counted around ten meters. I gave the chain a sharp tug, and it seemed to understand my intent, uncoiling from the tree and sinking limp to the ground. Another tug set it to rest around my arm in tight coils. The metal was pleasantly warm against my skin.

    It seems to have a will of its own, this thing. Or rather an extension of my own. It¡¯ll certainly prove useful.

    I left the chain around my arm and kept moving, hoping it would stay unless dismissed, but it dissipated after what I estimated to be half an hour.

    That little practice session left me defenseless for the moment with the crystal gone dark, but I figured it was worth it, with the knowledge I had gained. If I wanted to stay alive, I would have to use every resource at my disposal, and know them all inside and out.

    I found a sharp outcropping near the stream, a few stubborn pines clinging to the top. It was no cave, but it would at least stop the wind and obstruct me from view, so I decided to camp there for the night.

    The bare stone provided little warmth for my shivering, bare naked self, and the onsetting afternoon chill was not helping matters. With the last of the energy I had in me, I gathered long strips of moss with my dagger and laid them out like a mattress under the outcropping, then a bit more to bundle myself into. I cut off some fanlike spruce branches and pulled them in front of the entrance to my shelter to trap heat and keep out the wind.

    I settled in and laid out my meager supplies next to me. I sat there for a while, dagger in hand, listening for green-skins as evening fell over this strange, new world and all grew dark. With the sun¡¯s descent, however, my eyelids grew heavy, and my head slowly drifted onto the makeshift mattress.

    I slept like a baby.

    When I woke up, I blinked at sunlight that trickled through the needle-laden branches.

    Not dead, I thought. That¡¯s a relief.

    For a blissful moment, all was well. Sitting, I was quickly reminded of all that was wrong with the world. My splinted leg protested at any movement, and a clump of moss had stuck to my shoulder with dried blood. The palm of my hand, which had been cut by one of the green-skins, had taken on a funny smell.

    ¡°Mornin¡¯, partner,¡± said a raspy voice.

 Chapter 4: A Friendly Face

    Chapter 4: A Friendly Face

    Day 2

    I went stiff. My eyes darted up.

    A man with stripy hair and a scraggly beard sat on the other side of the outcropping, arms crossed. He wore a roughspun tunic with one sleeve, a pair of blood-specked breeches, and tall leather boots. An unstrung bow and a quiver full of arrows leaned against the rock by his side, and a sword lay across his legs.

    I rooted for the dagger among the moss, found nothing.

    ¡°Don¡¯t bother,¡± the man said. ¡°I took the opportunity to relieve you of your weapons.¡± He patted a cloth bundle at his side.

    ¡°Shit,¡± I hissed. Mind careening, I forced myself to take a few deep breaths. ¡°Alright, don¡¯t kill me. I¡¯ll do whatever you ask.¡±

    The man¡¯s eyebrows shot up. ¡°Oh ho! Whatever I say, huh? Tempting offer. You¡¯ve already met the slavers, then, I take it.¡±

    Sensing this man wasn¡¯t quite like the others, I nodded. ¡°Not really in the asking business, those ones.¡±

    The man chuckled. ¡°Just spawned in? What, yesterday?¡±

    ¡°Spawned?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yeah.¡± Making out my sheepish expression, he rolled his eyes. ¡°You fell from the sky, right?¡±

    ¡°How did you know?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s how things work around here. Everybody falls.¡±

    I frowned. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Look, I¡¯m not about to give you a history lesson. Suffice it to say, on Ard, people aren¡¯t born. They spawn.¡±

    That took a minute to sink in. The man gave me time, made no move.

    ¡°So, the reason why I can¡¯t remember anything¡­¡±

    ¡°Is because you have no memories to begin with,¡± the man finished. ¡°Congratulations.¡±

    ¡°But¡­ I feel like there¡¯s something in the back of my head. Like there¡¯s something I¡¯m forgetting. And I know all these things without having to learn them. How¡¯s that possible?¡±

    The man sighed. ¡°By the Architect, you¡¯re a real thinker, huh? Let me give you some advice. Don¡¯t think about it too much. The ones that spend their time worrying about where they came from or what it all means tend to go mad pretty quick.¡±

    I licked my lips and eyed the gleaming sword in the man¡¯s lap. ¡°You fell too, then?¡±

    The man grunted in acknowledgment. ¡°About a year ago.¡± He looked me over, boredom in his eyes. ¡°You¡¯re still naked, so you must have spawned in a couple days ago, at most.¡±

    ¡°Yesterday,¡± I said. ¡°Morning of.¡±

    The man laughed. ¡°You¡¯ve made a fine mess of things in such a short time. Seems the goblins almost took you out.¡±

    ¡°The little green men?¡±

    ¡°Yeah. Them.¡±Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    I couldn¡¯t muster the bravado to tell him otherwise. My injuries were plain to see. I wouldn¡¯t be able to put up much of a fight if he decided to kill me.

    Unless¡­

    I glanced down at my arm. The crystal had lit up, winking at me.

    ¡°Already figured out your basics, have you?¡± the man asked. ¡°Whatever you¡¯re thinking, I wouldn¡¯t recommend it.¡±

    He held up his right arm. The forearm was adorned with a similar mark to my own, a circle with a knife inside. Below it, five blue crystals sparked.

    I let my arm drop. ¡°Oh. Is that¡­?¡±

    ¡°Everyone¡¯s got one, yeah.¡± The man pulled out a bundle of dry bark from a pouch around his neck and stuck it in the back of his mouth, chewing. ¡°It¡¯s called a Class Mark. When you spawn in, you get one of four. I¡¯m what¡¯s known as a Rogue. Show me your mark, and I¡¯ll tell you what you are.¡±

    Hesitantly, I held up my right arm.

    The man whistled. ¡°Damn. You¡¯re a Cleric. Rarest of the bunch. King¡¯ll pay you a good salary if you head into any of the major towns.¡±

    ¡°What about the slavers?¡± I asked. ¡°They tried to catch me.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about them. They go for the fresh spawns, ones too disoriented to protest. Mostly Fighters, since they make for good laborers. You¡¯ve made it past the rough bit, son.¡±

    ¡°From what you said, you¡¯re only a year older than me,¡± I remarked dryly.

    The man wagged a finger in my direction, chewing loudly. ¡°Seniority still applies.¡±

    I chuckled at that.

    A long silence stretched out between us, each sizing up the other.

    ¡°Since you¡¯re telling me all this, I assume you won¡¯t kill me,¡± I said.

    ¡°Will you give me a reason to?¡± the man asked. His hand inched onto the sword hilt.

    I shook my head.

    He let his hand drop. ¡°Good. The name¡¯s Branch.¡±

    ¡°Branch?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t ask. Embarrassing story.¡± The man got a thoughtful look in his eye, his chewing slowed to a rhythmic motion. ¡°I think I¡¯ll call you¡­ Crow.¡±

    ¡°Why Crow?¡±

    ¡°On account of your hair. All black. I¡¯m guessing you haven¡¯t had the time to get familiar.¡±

    I touched the short shock of hair atop my head. ¡°Not really.¡±

    ¡°So, what do you think? About the name.¡±

    I shrugged. ¡°Good as any.¡±

    Branch nodded sagely. ¡°I¡¯m good at names, you know. Lots of fresh spawns come through here. Most don¡¯t make it, so I¡¯ve gotten good at digging graves, too.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s bleak.¡±

    Branch shrugged. ¡°You get used to it.¡± Returning the sword to a leather sheath on his belt, he stood. He was tall and gangly, forced to stoop under the stone ledge. ¡°Now, let¡¯s set about fixing up those wounds of yours.¡±

    I frowned. ¡°How?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ll do it yourself. Clerics are the only class with healing abilities.¡±

    ¡°You mean I could have healed my wounds this whole time?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Pretty much.¡±

    I sighed.

    ¡°Don¡¯t beat yourself up about it,¡± Branch said. ¡°Learning about your basic abilities takes time.¡±

    ¡°Everyone has these¡­ abilities, I assume?¡±

    ¡°Mmhmm. You start with three basic abilities, all based on class. Yours are Bind, Scry, and Lay on Hands. That last one is what you want right now.¡±

    Branch came over and squatted down next to me. He unwrapped the small bundle containing my weapons, gave me a meaningful look, and handed them over.

    ¡°Thanks,¡± I said.

    ¡°Now we¡¯re both armed,¡± Branch said. ¡°Do you mind if I show you how to do this?¡±

    I nodded.

    He unwrapped the improvised compress from my leg, heavy with blood, and guided my hand to the wound with both of his.

    ¡°There. Now say the words. Picture something soothing.¡±

    ¡°Lay on Hands.¡±

    Golden light shone between my fingers. The throbbing in my thigh muscle slowly eased up. Whole leg relaxing, I let out a relieved sigh. When I took my hand away seconds later, only a small bruise remained.

    Branch rocked on the balls of his feet, grinning. ¡°Attaboy. Now you just have to wait for your mana to recharge so you can do it again. You¡¯ve been through a lot, it seems, so I¡¯ll let you rest. I¡¯ll make sure the area¡¯s clear.¡±

    He picked up his bow, strung it with a single motion, and shouldered his quiver. He pulled the spruce branches aside, letting in a wash of morning sunlight.

    ¡°Wait,¡± I said.

    Branch glanced over his shoulder. ¡°Hmm?¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    The scruffy man grinned. Turning back to his task, he headed outside.

 Chapter 5: Learning the Basics

    Chapter 5: Learning the Basics

    Branch came back a few hours later, two rabbits dangling from his belt. By that point, I had used Lay on Hands twice more. My wounds were fully healed, splint discarded.

    Standing, I¡¯d found that the process wasn¡¯t quite perfect. There was still an unpleasant twang in my right leg whenever I walked on it. But it held my weight, and that was all that mattered for the moment.

    ¡°All better?¡± Branch asked.

    ¡°Better.¡± My stomach grumbled at the thought of some food.

    Branch chuckled. ¡°Follow me. I¡¯ve got a place nearby with more supplies. We can cook up something decent there.¡±

    I wrapped my weapons in bark and tied them in a sling over my shoulder, then complied. The bearded man knew the forest like the back of his hand, a whistle on his lips as he led them along without a second¡¯s hesitation.

    ¡°Who are you?¡± I asked, struggling to keep step with his long-legged, easy gait. ¡°I mean, why are you here? It seems awfully dangerous to be out here alone.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a poacher,¡± Branch said. ¡°The king¡¯s not so worried about the animals, but he¡¯s very particular about who gets to hunt the monsters that roam these lands.¡±

    I frowned. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make any sense. Don¡¯t the monsters threaten people¡¯s homes? Surely, he¡¯d want them all eradicated.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t get how this world works yet. Let me break it down real simple. On Ard, when you put in work, you gain experience, or XP. When you get enough XP, your level increases, giving you better abilities and more mana to use those abilities.¡± Branch held up his exposed right arm and pointed to the gleaming crystals. ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯ve got five o¡¯ these bad boys and you only have one.¡±

    Looking down at my own arm, I noticed the white glow filling the bottom of the class mark.

    ¡°This is counting my XP, then, I¡¯m assuming?¡± I asked, showing it to him.

    Branch nodded.

    ¡°Right,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s all well and good, but what does it have to do with these monsters?¡±

    ¡°You can gain XP by doing everyday labor like farming or mining, but it¡¯s damn slow. The quickest way to level up is by killing monsters. They give different amounts of XP depending on how strong they are, but even the weakest ones, like goblins, give a good amount for fresh spawns.¡±Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

    ¡°Ah, I get it. The king doesn¡¯t want just anyone to level up and get strong. He wants to save all the XP for himself and his closest followers, while keeping his subjects weak enough that they¡¯re forced to follow his rule.¡±

    Branch clapped my shoulder. ¡°There we are. You¡¯ve got a decent head on you, kid.¡±

    We walked for a while in silence. Branch kept his gaze on the treetops, beholding the songbirds that jumped between the branches, and whistled questions to them. I glared into the shadows below, always looking out for goblins.

    ¡°You don¡¯t happen to have any clothes at your place, do you?¡± I asked. I felt self-conscious of my naked body, especially since Branch was fully dressed.

    Branch glanced back. ¡°I might. But it won¡¯t come free.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ve got nothing to give you.¡±

    ¡°I have something in mind. You didn¡¯t think I¡¯ve been taking care of you out of kindness, did you?¡±

    I stopped dead. ¡°If you¡¯re saying what I think you are¡­¡±

    Branch turned to face me, brow furrowed. His eyes widened with realization, and he broke out in a fit of laughter, guffawing until he wheezed, red-faced.

    ¡°Don¡¯t flatter yourself,¡± he said, recovering. ¡°I¡¯m not that kinda guy. Besides, fucking a fresh spawn is plain wrong. Nah, it¡¯s something way more dangerous. You¡¯re going to help me hunt a monster. I need someone to act as bait.¡±

    ¡°What makes you think I would do that for you?¡±

    ¡°Because I can give you clothes.¡± Branch held up a finger. ¡°A share of the XP.¡± Two fingers. ¡°The knowledge you¡¯ll need to survive in this world.¡± Three fingers. ¡°Even a weapon for the road.¡± Four fingers. ¡°If you don¡¯t like that deal, I can send you packing, naked and alone.¡±

    We kept walking, a sudden edge in the air between us. I mulled over my options in silence.

    I don¡¯t want to be bait for some monster. I can barely handle myself in a fight, and I¡¯m not sure if I can trust this guy. Then again, I won¡¯t get far without those supplies¡­

    ¡°The monster,¡± I said, ¡°what is it?¡±

    ¡°Direboar,¡± Branch grunted. ¡°Angry, stubborn, and super-sized, with a taste for human flesh. I call ¡®im Piggy.¡±

    ¡°I think I understand the concept. How big are we talking, exactly?¡±

    ¡°Big as a horse, with tusks that¡¯ll skewer you clean through.¡±

    I swallowed. ¡°And you need me to be bait, why?¡±

    ¡°Because the porker¡¯s fucking fast, is why. I need you to keep his attention while I line up a clean shot.¡± He patted the bow hung over his shoulder.

    ¡°I sense a personal history.¡±

    ¡°Piggy ate a friend of mine. I¡¯m going to hang his head over my fireplace. He¡¯ll give a neat chunk of XP, besides.¡±

    ¡°And I¡¯ll be safe during all this? You¡¯ll make sure the direboar doesn¡¯t get to me?¡±

    Branch shrugged. ¡°That¡¯s up to you, kid.¡±

    I swore under my breath. Both of my options were bad. Out of the two, going off on my own seemed like the worse one.

    Branch stopped, held up a fist. ¡°Shh,¡± he said, neck craning. Listening.

    ¡°What?¡± I whispered.

    ¡°Goblins. A whole pack of ¡®em.¡±

    Branch spun around, eyes narrowed to slits. He settled on a spot in the distance. All I could see were trees, bushes, and rocks.

    The poacher set down the bow, quiver, and rabbits, then drew his sword. ¡°Stay back,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll handle this.¡±

    I nodded, not in the mood to reprise my encounter with the green-skins. Besides, if the goblins managed to kill him, maybe I could take his stuff.

 Chapter 6: Quickstep

    Chapter 6: Quickstep

    It wasn¡¯t long before I saw them emerge from behind the trees ahead. A writhing tide of pint-sized hatred. More of them than before. Way more.

    Angrier, too.

    Seems like I really shook the hornet¡¯s nest by killing that leader of theirs.

    I began a count but quickly gave up. There were several dozen of them, at least.

    Branch walked towards the goblins, sword in hand, undeterred. They surged around him, coming in closer, screaming their defiance as they toted jagged weapons. The man looked back, meeting my eye.

    ¡°Watch and learn, kid,¡± he called.

    The goblins, clearly unable to grasp anything but their own gibberish, took his words as a challenge. A group of them burst forward, maybe eight in all, each with a shrill battlecry.

    Branch settled into a low, easy stance, sword held out in a lazy grip, point nearly touching the ground.

    ¡°Rend.¡±

    Dark fire alighted along the Rogue¡¯s blade, devouring the light around it. Fire swallowed steel, then froze, darkness compressed into a wicked edge.

    The goblins were on top of him. They thrust, slashed, stabbed, descending on their quarry.

    ¡°Quickstep,¡± he followed up.

    Branch became a black-streaked whirlwind. Goblin blades shattered, sent them stumbling. With a single, full-revolution cut, their heads came off all at once, sliced clean at the neck. Heads hit the ground. Bodies followed.

    Branch skidded to a stop. Sword burning with purplish energy, he struck a tight guard against the green-skin horde, blade parallel to his body.

    The goblins went quiet, frozen in shock. One of their number tottered forward, metal-tipped spear clasped in shaky hands.

    With a lazy backhand swing, Branch cut through the spear. Through skinny limbs and a lanky torso. The goblin slid in two, sputtering its last breath.

    The rest ran, scattering in every direction.

    I cheered, dazzled by the sheer power on display.

    Then I realized some of the goblins were coming my way, and excitement soured to dread. They looked just as panicked as I, although I suspected that fear could prove just as compelling a motivator for violence as rage.

    Scrambling, backing away, I struggled to come up with a method of escape. My Bind could deal with one, maybe two of them before they were on top of me. I counted five.

    That¡¯s not enough.

    But it was all I had.

    Unless¡­

    Branch had told me I had three basic abilities. Bind, Lay on Hands, and Scry. I had only tried the first two.

    There was no time to deliberate. It was now or not at all.

    ¡°Scry!¡± I cried.

    I was blinded with light. Endless streams of white threads. Weaved into pictures, too intricate for comprehension. I was weightless, suspended, fluttering like a moth trying to drink in all the light of a lantern.

    Then I slammed back into my body with a gasp. I was on my knees. The goblins were meters away, weapons raised, screaming.

    ¡°Bind!¡± I shouted, arms held before my face, but nothing happened.

    I was powerless.

    About to be dead.

    ¡°Quickstep,¡± came Branch¡¯s raspy voice.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    In a blur of shadows, he darted between the goblins, beheading two with a lazy swing. Skidding to a stop in front of me, protecting me with his form, he raised his smoldering blade in an open invitation to the monsters.

    They did not take him up on that offer.

    Bolting, the goblins vanished into the undergrowth. Soon, their guttural noises faded away, and all was serene once again.

    Apart from the corpses. And the blood. Plenty of both covered the patch of forest.

    With a flick of his sword, Branch dispelled whatever dark energy it had been augmented with. He stuck the weapon in its sheath, turned to me, and offered a hand, beaming with mirth.

    I took it, and the rogue helped me to my feet.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said numbly. Clinging to his hand like a drowning man to a piece of driftwood, I shook it. ¡°You saved my life.¡±

    ¡°Let¡¯s not make it a habit,¡± Branch said. With his free hand, he pried off my fingers. ¡°I still need you, remember?¡±

    ¡°That ability you mentioned, Scry. It was completely useless. Worse than useless, actually. It just knocked me out for a second or two.¡±

    ¡°Ah. You tried it, huh? Honestly, I can¡¯t tell you much about it¡ªnever knew many Clerics. Although, I do know it¡¯s notoriously difficult to use.¡±

    ¡°What¡¯s it even supposed to do?¡±

    Branch shrugged. ¡°Weird shit. Don¡¯t worry about it for now.¡± He started walking and motioned for me to follow. ¡°Come on, Crow¡ªmy place is just up ahead.¡±

    *****

    Branch¡¯s home was an old cottage nestled in a grouping of spruces. The house was practically a ruin, moss covering the stone walls, part of the roof collapsed, windows dark and trailing strands of tattered fabric, but it was still by far the most inviting structure I had seen since spawning in.

    ¡°Make yourself at home,¡± Branch said, ¡°but don¡¯t touch anything of mine.¡± He worked open the creaky door, which was kept shut with a piece of frayed rope¡ªthe latch long since rotted beyond use¡ªand ducked into the cottage.

    The interior was dark, moist, and covered in mold. But it was out of the elements, and there was a wood stove in the center of the single room, so I didn¡¯t overly mind. The place was sparsely furnished, but it had the necessities. A straw bed, a table, a couple of chairs, a pantry, and a large cupboard.

    ¡°Now, we¡¯re going to eat, rest up, and make a plan for how to deal with ol¡¯ Piggy,¡± Branch said, already rooting around in the pantry. ¡°Any objections to that, Crow?¡±

    A deep rumble from my gut was answer enough.

    The Rogue brought out a bundle of wild leeks and a bowl of herbs. He placed them on the table, then motioned to me. ¡°Here, why don¡¯t you chop these? You¡¯ve already got the knife for the job. I¡¯ll head outside and prepare these rabbits.¡±

    I nodded, and we both set about our tasks. As soon as he was gone, I couldn¡¯t help directing a glance towards the cupboard. Most likely, that was where he kept his spare clothes.

    I¡¯m sick of being naked.

    I didn¡¯t want to steal from the man who had saved my life, though. More than anything, I didn¡¯t want to get caught¡ªhe seemed plenty dangerous.

    Branch returned some time later, once I had finished, with hunks of lean rabbit meat. Less than I had expected, but enough to make my mouth water. After fetching a bucket of fresh spring water and getting me to bring some logs that he had stacked under the roof out back, he mixed the ingredients into a pot and set it to boil over the stove, making a thin soup. He stirred occasionally, and soon the house filled with a pleasant, savory aroma.

    While we waited for the food to cook, Branch decided to give me my second lesson.

    ¡°On Ard, never cover your right arm,¡± he said, motioning to the lack of a sleeve on his right side. ¡°It means people can¡¯t see your class, level, or remaining mana, but it¡¯s taken as a sign that you¡¯ve got something to hide, up to no good. Fresh spawns learn quick that it¡¯s taboo. Only serious criminals do it, mostly as a sign of rebellion. Besides common etiquette, it¡¯s outlawed by royal decree, so you could lose a finger or a hand if someone of status sees you, depending on how generous they¡¯re feeling. Usually, that¡¯s not very.¡±

    ¡°Got it,¡± I replied. ¡°I¡¯ll avoid that. Say, there¡¯s something I¡¯ve been wondering¡ªhow long does it take for a mana crystal to recharge?¡±

    ¡°About an hour. Faster while you¡¯re asleep.¡±

    ¡°I see. That fight with the goblins must have earned you quite a lot of XP, huh?¡±

    Branch showed his class mark, more than halfway full. ¡°Don¡¯t think you¡¯ll be getting any. I had to do all the heavy lifting. Which reminds me of another thing¡ªone person can transfer XP to another by clasping hands and both visualizing the exchange. It only works if it¡¯s willingly given, so you can¡¯t coerce someone into handing over their hard-earned XP. Trust me, I learned that the hard way.¡±

    I grinned. ¡°You¡¯re a bit of a bastard, aren¡¯t you?¡±

    Branch returned the smile, eyes aglow in the firelight. ¡°One of my finer qualities. However, there is one way to get access to the XP a person is holding. You just have to kill them.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s harsh.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a harsh world. Basically, carrying around a lot of XP makes you a target. Best way to prevent that is by leveling up, which resets the counter, the max level being 20. At first level, you just need 10 XP to level up. Goblins have Combat Rating 1, which means you need to kill ten of ¡®em. For every level after the first one, the amount of XP required gradually increases.¡±

    ¡°What you¡¯re saying is that reaching Level 20 is going to take a while.¡±

    Branch chuckled. ¡°Head in the clouds already. A bit of ambition is good, but don¡¯t think too far ahead. Focus on the present. You¡¯re small fry¡ªany wrong move and you¡¯re taken out of the game.¡±

    ¡°Death is a concern, then, I take it? I won¡¯t just¡­ fall out of the sky like before?¡±

    ¡°Death is your only concern. The king¡¯s clergy debate back and forth until they¡¯re blue in the face, but no one really knows what happens when you die. Only that it¡¯s nothing good.¡±

    I nodded.

    Branch took the soup off the stove and poured up two bowls. I dug in, spooning the watery broth with gusto.

    We ate in silence, too hungry to speak.

 Chapter 7: Piggy

    Chapter 7: Piggy

    Day 3

    Everything was ready.

    Branch had chosen a suitable clearing, about ten or fifteen meters across. It was closed off on three sides by thick stands of trees, open only to the north. He had jammed bundles of bristly shrubs between the trees to plug any gaps, meaning that the direboar could only reasonably enter the clearing from the north.

    I helped him out with a pit of spikes at the entrance to the clearing, deep as a man was tall and covered in moss and leaves to obscure its presence. I felt like a little goblin, setting traps for our enemy.

    Branch had found himself a suitable hiding spot in one of the trees where he would be waiting with bow and arrow. He had placed a heap of rotting goblin meat in the center of the clearing to attract the direboar, harvested from the victims of their previous bout.

    Still naked, Branch had given me his sword to defend myself. I had my dagger slung over my chest just in case.

    ¡°One last thing before we get this started,¡± Branch said. ¡°You ought to prepare a Bind to snare the beast in case the trap doesn¡¯t do the job. Let me show you.¡±

    He guided me over to a dead pine at the northern edge of the clearing. ¡°Here.¡± He gave the trunk a firm clap. ¡°Use Bind and insert it into the tree.¡±

    ¡°Insert?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Yeah. The chain produced by your Bind can be anchored in almost any nonliving material. Try it.¡±

    I shrugged. ¡°Bind,¡± I said. When links of warm chain streamed from my palm, I grabbed the edge and placed it against the tree. At first, nothing happened, but when I visualised the chain attaching itself, several links sank into the wood. I gave it a few firm tugs and found it firmly stuck.

    ¡°Pretty handy,¡± I said.

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it?¡± Branch agreed. ¡°I think we¡¯re as prepared as we¡¯ll ever be. Are you ready, Crow?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Too bad. We¡¯re doing this. Get into position.¡±

    I did as I was told, leaving the chain attached to the tree as I moved to the center of the clearing. Branch climbed into his tree. ¡°All good up here!¡± he called. ¡°Now to get Piggy¡¯s attention. Start hollering, kid! He¡¯ll come running soon enough.¡±

    I licked my lips, staring at the trees beyond the clearing. It was almost certainly my imagination, but I thought I could see a set of dark, glittering eyes staring back.

    ¡°Is this really the only way?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Probably not. But I¡¯m not all that bright, and I don¡¯t see you coming up with any ideas. So get to it.¡±

    With that, I relented. ¡°Come on, bastard!¡± I shouted at the top of my lungs. ¡°Come and get me! I¡¯ve got some nice, juicy fat on these bones!¡±

    I carried on like that until my voice was hoarse, voice echoing over the forest. Minutes passed, and I began to think that the ever-present menace of mosquitoes and horse-flies would be the biggest threat I¡¯d face that day.

    Then I heard it. More than that, I felt it. A distant rumble. Getting closer. I settled into a ready stance, trying to keep my knees from shaking, and held out the sword before me.

    It¡¯s going to work, I thought. It has to work. I¡¯m not going to die here.

    A deep bellow shook the ground. A moment later, the clearing exploded with motion. A creature broke through the trees to the east, parting some skinny birches with its massive bulk. Bramble bushes caught on wiry fur, carried along.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    The creature was big and a horse, maybe twice as heavy, with a dark coat of fur so coarse it resembled quills. The face was that of a boar, set with beady red eyes that dripped of malice, tusks long as arms extending from its gnashing maw. Its sides were matted with old scars, and its hooves beat a discordant rhythm against the ground, throwing up dirt and rocks.

    The trap had failed.

    Instinctively, I backed away. Stumbling over rocks, nearly falling, I made it to the back edge of the clearing. I bumped up against a thick tree trunk and stopped in my tracks.

    The direboar had nowhere to run, sure, but neither did we.

    The direboar swiveled, fixing me with its mad, bug-eyed gaze. For a long moment, it sized me up, clear hints of intelligence behind those eyes. It even spared a glance at my weapon, as if sizing up how much of a threat it might be.

    Then, with a baleful snort, it charged.

    I blinked. It was fast. Too fast. I was paralyzed, frozen in place as the direboar closed the distance between us. Halved it, then halved it again.

    Instinctively, I called for the chain, but it stretched taut well before reaching the direboar.

    ¡°Fuck,¡± I cursed, spittle flying.

    The monster was on me. Finally breaking out of my stupor, I dove low, beneath its bloated gut. Hooves thundered over and around me, the sound deafening. Just one clean hit from one of those hooves would be enough to smash my skull like an overripe melon.

    I tried not to think about that. I scrabbled to my feet, the monster¡¯s feet scratching up my back as it wheeled around, and ran.

    I cleared the back of the beast, nearly avoiding a swing of its stubby tail, and made for the north end of the clearing. I didn¡¯t have a plan, but I knew that if I stayed still, I¡¯d die for sure.

    ¡°Rend,¡± came Branch¡¯s voice in a smooth, even tone.

    Glancing back, I saw an arrow with a razor-sharp head of dark energy dig into the direboar¡¯s flank, cutting through steel-like quills and leathery hide. The monster roared and bucked, pulping dead goblins beneath its hooves, but did not falter.

    I kept running. I was not going to wait for that thing to recover.

    I skidded to a stop as I reached the edge, standing before the spike trap. It was about two meters across. I was not looking to fall in.

    Taking a few steps back, I sucked in a deep breath. The ground shook as the direboar charged once more.

    I ran for it, sprinted like I never had in my few days of living, and jumped. I cleared the trap, landing on the other side, and tucked into a roll. A moment later, a blood-curdling scream made my hairs stand on end as the direboar crashed through.

    Getting to one knee, I peeked over the edge to find the direboar thrashing in the pit, its gut stuck through with the sharpened logs we had placed down there. It stared at me, unblinking, teeth gnashing audibly. I could tell it wanted nothing more than to crush me flat, filled to the brim with hatred.

    I got to my feet and prodded at the beast with the tip of my sword, drawing blood, unwilling to stoop closer for a more substantial hit.

    The monster frothed at the mouth. With an anguished below, it stretched, getting its front hooves over the edge of the trap.

    ¡°Uh¡­¡± I said, backing away. ¡°Branch! A little assistance!¡±

    The monster heaved, rising, spikes sliding from its flesh. Purple, slimy intestines poked through the holes, but the beast seemed to pay its extensive damage no mind. Eyes singularly focused on me, it rose, scrabbling at the edge of the pit, and eventually got its back legs over the side.

    I looked down at the sword in my shaking hand. Compared to the towering monstrosity before me, it seemed a toothpick.

    I called for the chain as I retreated from the clearing, had it wrap around the direboar¡¯s tusk. When it came after me, the spectral metal went taut, and the monster¡¯s hooves slid uselessly in the dirt.

    ¡°Rend!¡± Branch cried.

    This time, the arrow took it in the ass. The direboar grunted, eyelids flickering, one back leg shaking as it struggled to hold its weight.

    I allowed myself to feel a sliver of hope.

    The direboar¡¯s eyes came wide open, jaw working in renewed rage. It bucked against the chain, links groaning, tree bending. I could not say what would give first.

    The monster¡¯s tusk snapped off. Lips peeled back in something approaching a human sneer, it charged.

    ¡°No,¡± I whispered. In one last show of defiance, I raised my sword outward in both hands. If this thing wanted to have me, I¡¯d make it pay first.

    ¡°Quickstep.¡±

    In a flash, Branch was between me and the monster. It bore through him, carried him into the air, impaled on the remaining tusk. Branch slid all the way to the base as the monster reared up.

    Branch spat blood. ¡°You ready for this, bastard?¡± he fought out. Plucking an arrow from the quiver on his back, he said; ¡°Rend.¡±

    The arrowhead alighted with power. With one motion, he drove it through the direboar¡¯s right eye, driving it in all the way to the fletching.

    The monster went stiff. It shuddered, stationary, struggling past all reason to keep up the fight.

    Then it went limp. Fell sideways.

    Branch was thrown clear of the tusk, rolling across the ground. He came to a stop on his back, face paling, hands clutching weakly at the hole in his stomach.

    I discarded my weapon and ran to his side.

 Chapter 8: Ding!

    Chapter 8: Ding!

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ve got this,¡± I said, putting my hands over Branch¡¯s nasty wound. ¡°Lay on Hands!¡±

    It did nothing.

    ¡°Fuck,¡± I swore. I had already used up my mana crystal.

    Without supernatural healing, the Rogue wasn¡¯t going to survive, that much was clear. The gushing hole in his stomach gave him minutes, maybe less. I put compression on the wound, but I knew it was no use.

    ¡°Here,¡± Branch said, pale lips twitching. ¡°Take my hand.¡±

    ¡°I need to stop the¡ª¡±

    ¡°Take my fucking hand!¡±

    I complied, clasping his waiting hand. Wisps of white energy flowed across Branch¡¯s forearm, flooding into mine. Gradually, the white on my Class Mark filled up. The Rogue hacked blood, eyelids flickering.

    Oh, I thought. He¡¯s giving me his XP. A parting gift, I guess.

    The white reached the top of the circle, and a silent shockwave spread out around me, setting my hair aflutter. The Class Mark went black.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± I said, almost tearing up. ¡°I won¡¯t forget you, old man.¡±

    ¡°Forget¡­ me?¡± Branch hissed. His grip on my hand tightened. ¡°You¡¯re going to patch me up, you limp-dicked half-spawn!¡±

    I did a double take and checked my forearm. A second mana crystal had joined the first. This one was already alight with a pleasant glow.

    Oh.

    ¡°Lay on Hands,¡± I said, a little sheepish.

    The hand I kept on his wound radiated a healing glow, and the injury began to mend. It went from a nasty hole to just a trickling, bruised pinhole.

    Branch let out a relieved gasp and let his head fall back. ¡°Damn. That was close.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not out of the woods just yet,¡± I said, getting back on my feet. ¡°You lost a lot of blood, and it looks like one use of Lay on Hands wasn¡¯t enough to fix you up completely. We¡¯ll need to keep pressure on that until my mana recharges.¡±

    ¡°Fair enough,¡± Branch said with a grunt.

    He kept pressure on the wound while I went off to find some moss. I walked carefully around the dead direboar, which still shuddered spastically. I found some and returned. I got his tunic off and placed the moss over the wound, then sat down to rest.

    ¡°You were really going to let me die, you turd,¡± Branch muttered.

    ¡°Sorry about that. I didn¡¯t know you leveled up with a filled mana crystal.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just fucking common sense, ain¡¯t it?¡±If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°We can argue about it when you¡¯re off your deathbed.¡±

    The Rogue just snorted.

    ¡°Look on the bright side, old man. We did it.¡± I nodded towards the downed beast.

    Branch gave a reluctant grin. ¡°Suppose we did, yeah. You handled yourself alright, for a fresh spawn. Got a little panicked for a while there, but we¡¯ll work on that. We¡¯ll make you a cold-blooded bastard in time.¡±

    ¡°Does that mean you want us to keep working together?¡±

    Branch shrugged. The movement made him grit his red-stained teeth in pain. ¡°Why not? Need somebody to talk to. I could do worse than a Cleric.¡±

    ¡°Careful, old man. You¡¯re coming on a little strong.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t mock the elderly.¡±

    We were quiet for a bit, aside from the occasional groan or curse from Branch.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯d mind sticking around either,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m in no hurry to see what this nightmare of a world has to offer.¡±

    *****

    I shouldered open the door to Branch¡¯s cottage. I brought the Rogue inside, one of his arms draped over me. I deposited him into a chair, ignoring his insistent remarks that I was being too rough, and set about starting a fire in the stove. A second use of Lay on Hands had completely healed Branch¡¯s injury, but with the blood loss and the time he had spent exposed to the elements, he¡¯d need a bit of heat to avoid falling ill.

    I finished, a merry fire bathing the walls in an orange glow.

    Branch nodded towards the cupboard with a grunt. ¡°There. Fetch yourself something to wear. I reckon you¡¯ve earned it, and I¡¯m sick to death of seein¡¯ that little noodle you¡¯re working with.¡±

    I didn¡¯t protest. My fatigue temporarily forgotten, I ripped open the cupboard doors and rifled through the handful sets of rumpled clothing within. I settled on a pair of dark breeches that looked like they¡¯d fit me and a single-sleeved linen tunic, as well as a worn leather belt. There were a few pairs of undergarments, but I decided I wasn¡¯t interested in any second-hand cock stink.

    ¡°Lookin¡¯ good, kid,¡± Branch said once I was fully dressed. ¡°You¡¯re my spitting image now.¡±

    I chuckled. ¡°You wish. I think we both know who¡¯s better looking out of the two of us.¡±

    ¡°Not like you¡¯d know. Have you even seen your reflection yet?¡±

    ¡°Well, no,¡± I reluctantly admitted. ¡°I think it¡¯s a sure bet, though, having seen what I¡¯m up against.¡±

    Branch chuckled, stroking his scraggly beard. ¡°I don¡¯t have any spare boots, sad to say, so you¡¯ll have to go without for the time being. We can pick up a pair when we go into town for supplies.¡±

    I bristled at the mention of a town. After my run-in with the slavers, I wasn¡¯t too keen on other people. Branch had assured me that wouldn¡¯t happen again, but I wasn¡¯t sure I believed him.

    ¡°Speaking of noodles, have you ever had a woman?¡± I asked, eager to fill the cottage with conversation.

    ¡°Oh, sure,¡± Branch said. ¡°Just the one.¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s¡­¡±

    ¡°Dead, yeah. Piggy saw to that. We were close, before. Her name was Nettle.¡±

    I gave a respectful nod. ¡°I see. I¡¯m sorry. Let me guess¡ªyou called her that because she had a bad temper.¡±

    Branch smiled ruefully. ¡°Nope. Second day together, she went out to piss and squatted in a nettle patch. She came runnin¡¯ back right quick, howling like a demon. Needless to say, I didn¡¯t let her live it down.¡±

    I smiled. ¡°Sounds like you two had some good times. I¡¯m glad we could avenge her death, at least.¡±

    ¡°On Ard, that¡¯s about as good as you can hope for. Although, it¡¯s better not to get attached altogether. Remember that, kid.¡±

    ¡°Sure.¡± I paused for a second. ¡°Say, we left that direboar to rot back there. I remember you saying you wanted to mount the head in the cottage. Want me to go pick it up while you recover?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d appreciate that. I¡¯ll put some dinner together. It¡¯ll be slim pickings tonight, seein¡¯ as we didn¡¯t have time to hunt, but¡­¡± He shrugged.

    ¡°Direboar meat isn¡¯t worth eating, I¡¯m guessing?¡± I asked.

    ¡°I wouldn¡¯t risk it. I heard of a guy in town who tried it. Shat himself to death three days later.¡±

    ¡°Okay, that¡¯s a pass.¡± I headed for the door. ¡°I¡¯ll be back in a bit. Hopefully the head isn¡¯t too heavy to carry.¡± I stuck Branch¡¯s sword through my belt and tapped it with two fingers. ¡°You don¡¯t mind if I take this, do you?¡±

    ¡°Go ahead,¡± Branch said. Slowly, and with some effort, he got out of his chair and shuffled over to the pantry.

    ¡°Thanks. I¡¯ll be off, then.¡±

    I headed out into the early evening gloom and tied the door shut behind me with the makeshift rope loop.

 Chapter 9: One Head Shorter

    Chapter 9: One Head Shorter

    I swung down vertically, sword in a two-handed grip. The blade sank through the remaining sliver of the direboar¡¯s muscled neck, and the head fell free.

    I stood back, panting, and wiped sweat from my forehead. I cleaned my sword on some shrubbery, rubbed the worst of Piggy¡¯s blood off with a few clumps of moss and dirt, and went over to a nearby rock where I¡¯d left my tunic. I put it on and sat down for a minute to catch my breath.

    ¡°Old man better appreciate this¡­¡± I panted. ¡°Cutting off heads really isn¡¯t my thing.¡±

    Night had fallen, and there was little light to go by. I figured it was best to get started before whatever monsters lurked in the dark caught a whiff of me. Goblins or worse.

    I braided strips of bark together into a rope and used that to tie a clumsy harness, attaching it to the direboar head. I dragged the cumbersome thing behind me, too heavy to carry.

    A sky full of stars winked down at me through the trees. An array of crescent moons hung heavy among them. I counted five. Staring at that great beyond got me thinking.

    What is this world, really? Why does it feel so¡­ unnatural? I was born here, so why do I feel like I belong someplace else?

    Branch had mentioned someone called the Architect. Was that the god of this place? I would have to ask him later.

    The trek back to the cabin was arduous, seemingly infinitely longer than the path I had taken when leaving it. The head dragged behind me, one long tusk scraping the dirt, harness digging into my chest.

    Eventually the cabin came into view, amber firelight shining through the smudged windows. I¡¯d made it. Without incident, too. That was something.

    I shrugged off the harness and left Piggy¡¯s head on the ground outside. Branch could decide what he wanted done with it. I sure wasn¡¯t moving it another centimeter.

    Stepping up to the door, I found myself pausing. The rope that kept the door shut had been severed, both ends hanging limply. The door was open a crack. I heard no sound from inside, saw no shadows in the windows. I considered calling out to Branch, but thought better of it. Instead, I instinctively reached out for the power that dwelled within me.

    ¡°Scry,¡± I whispered.

    My vision was flooded with light, gold threads woven into patterns too fine for my reckoning. They were pulled taut, arranged into something more decipherable, color bleeding back into the arcane weave.

    I saw myself from behind. I had a hand on the door. I pushed it open and entered, calling soundlessly to Branch. As soon as I entered, a brief flash of something dark cut through my neck. Then my head slid off my shoulders, and the rest of me sank to the ground.

    I snapped back into my own body, breathing heavy, a steadying hand on the cottage wall. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust, before I felt truly at home within myself again.

    A vision. A possible future, maybe. I wasn¡¯t sure. But I was sure of one thing.

    There was something dangerous inside that cottage.

    I considered simply leaving, walking off into the night, but curiosity got the better of me. Besides, if Branch was in trouble, I figured I had an obligation to help him. The bastard had done the same for me more than once.

    I snuck around the side of the cottage, hand trailing the uneven stones. I got to a window and peeked inside. Through the foggy glass, I could make out Branch draped over his straw bed.

    A knife jutted out of his throat, buried to the hilt, burning with the same dark energy I¡¯d seen Branch himself utilize. Blood stained his bare right arm, dripping off his limp hand onto the floor.

    Other shapes moved inside the cottage. I jerked my head back, breathing hard, but not from exertion this time.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.

    Fuck, I thought. He¡¯s dead. He¡¯s fucking dead.

    At least, he would be soon. Maybe a Lay on Hands could fix him up, but I couldn¡¯t tell if he was still moving or not.

    I looked through the window once more. I made out three people inside, seated on Branch¡¯s chairs around the wood stove. Two men, one woman. The men were bald, rough-hewn, covered in scars. The woman was slender and sable-haired. Even through the dirty window, I could tell that she was beautiful. She played idly with a dagger, throwing it into the air and catching it. They all wore clothing that covered their right arms, so I couldn¡¯t make out class or level.

    ¡°I see you!¡± the woman called without taking her eyes off the fire. ¡°Come inside, will you? It¡¯s cold out.¡±

    I froze. I went through my options in a split second. All were bad.

    Three of them in there. Those are bad odds. I don¡¯t think I could beat even a single fighter with Branch¡¯s experience.

    I could run. But judging by the look of that knife, at least one of them is a Rogue. Rogues can use Quickstep, meaning they¡¯d catch up to me quick.

    Leaving me with one option.

    I doubled back to the front of the cottage and went in through the door. The two men had stood up, brandishing steel-banded cudgels. They watched me closely, but made no move. The woman stayed put, glancing briefly over her shoulder before returning her attention to the fire.

    I looked over at Branch. The man was still alive, sucking feebly for air. Blood bubbled on his lips. He stared frantically right at me, lips moving as if he was trying to beg me to save him.

    There was still time.

    I diverted my gaze. I¡¯m sorry, old man. You told me not to get attached.

    ¡°You two friends?¡± the woman asked. She caught her dagger and pointed it in Branch¡¯s general direction.

    ¡°Not exactly,¡± I said. ¡°He fished me off the beach when I spawned in. Threatened to kill me. Made me work for him.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± The woman said nothing else. It was impossible to tell whether she believed me or not.

    ¡°Can we kill him?¡± one of the toughs asked in a surprisingly high-pitched voice.

    ¡°Not yet,¡± the woman said. She stood with a sigh, sheathing the dagger at her belt, and turned to face me. Hands on hips, she looked me up and down. She really was shapely, leather breeches hugging a pair of long, slender legs as tight as a second skin. I fought the urge to stare.

    ¡°Why?¡± asked the other man. His voice was rough and grating.

    ¡°Why?¡± The woman¡¯s honeyed voice took on a hard edge. ¡°Three reasons, Brick. Firstly, because he¡¯s a Cleric. That means he¡¯s valuable. Secondly, because it¡¯d be a shame to waste such a pretty face. Thirdly¡ªand most importantly¡ªbecause I fucking said so. Do I need to remind you who¡¯s in charge?¡±

    Brick¡¯s dumb face flashed with rage, but only for a moment. His features went placid, and he lowered his weapon a hair. ¡°No, Cait. I get it. Don¡¯t need to be such a bitch about it.¡±

    Cait took the insult in stride and approached me. I backed away on reflex, but the two men tilted their heads in response, a warning. I stopped, let the leader come in close.

    She smelled of lavender. Her face neared mine, and her full, blood-red lips puckered. I swallowed hard. That made her grin. She cupped my face in one hand and turned it every which way.

    Branch let out one last, pathetic gurgle before going still.

    I considered unsheathing my sword and driving her through, but I checked my anger. Her confidence, and the ease with which Branch had been dispatched, suggested that this group was strong. If I made one wrong move, I was dead.

    So I did nothing, and let the woman tug me around.

    ¡°You said this idiot made you work for him?¡± Cait asked.

    ¡°That¡¯s right.¡±

    ¡°Hmm. Awful generous of him to give you his only sword.¡±

    ¡°He sent me out to kill a monster for him. He knew I was too weak to defy him, with or without a weapon.¡±

    ¡°What type of monster?¡±

    ¡°A direboar.¡±

    ¡°You killed a direboar on your own?¡± She glanced down at my arm. ¡°At Level Two?¡±

    Her sleeve slid down, letting me get a peek at her forearm. Rogue. Level Six.

    That¡¯s bad.

    I was soaking with cold, clammy sweat. I wanted to vomit.

    ¡°The direboar was old and lame. My captor just wanted it dead so it wouldn¡¯t scare away the goblins around this area.¡±

    Cait nodded, thoughtful. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you run?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m a fresh spawn. I don¡¯t know the lay of the land. He said the goblins would get me if I tried to run. I needed his protection.¡±

    The woman let go of my face with a final clap on the cheek and took a step back. ¡°I see. Then how about earning my protection? I could use a Cleric in my¡­ band.¡±

    I let out a sharp breath, unaware until now that I¡¯d been holding it in.

    She bought it.

    ¡°Yes, of course,¡± I said. ¡°You saved me from that horrible man. I¡¯ll work for you, if you¡¯ll have me. Although, what exactly do you do?¡±

    ¡°Simple,¡± Cait said. ¡°We¡¯re bandits.¡±

    She grinned.

    I swallowed.

 Chapter 10: The Greater Evil

    Chapter 10: The Greater Evil

    Day 5

    We lingered in the trees by the wide dirt path, hidden behind a throng of bushes and saplings. Despite our intentions, I felt an electric rush at the thought of seeing more people, more hints of civilization. According to Cait, the road they were on led to a town called Worthing. I wondered idly what that place was like.

    Cait¡¯s underlings, Brick and Bash, had tossed Branch¡¯s body away, leaving it out for the goblins to pick at. I was given his boots, and the rest of his clothing had been distributed among the rest of the bandits. I¡¯d also been given a tunic with sleeves for both arms, to signify that I was one of them now.

    Over the day and something I¡¯d spent with the bandits, I¡¯d worked to learn a little about them. Brick and Bash were both Level 3 Fighters, relatively fresh spawns, but older than me. I had yet to find out what a Fighter¡¯s basic abilities were, but I figured I¡¯d get to see soon enough.

    Cait was as arrogant as she was beautiful. However, it seemed she also had the talent to back it up. Despite only having spawned in six months ago, she was already Level 6, one higher than Branch. She was stronger than Brick, Bash, and I put together, and she knew it.

    ¡°New blood,¡± Cait said, crouched opposite me. ¡°You¡¯re looking a little pale.¡±

    I tried to affect disinterest. Based on her derisive chuckle, it didn¡¯t work. ¡°I just haven¡¯t done this sort of thing before, that¡¯s all,¡± I said.

    ¡°You get used to it quick,¡± Brick said. ¡°Nothin¡¯ to it.¡±

    ¡°Couple conks on the head is all it usually takes,¡± Bash chimed in.

    ¡°Charming,¡± I muttered.

    ¡°Ignore them,¡± Cait said with uncharacteristic softness in her voice. ¡°You¡¯ll stay here for your first time. Your job is just to heal anyone who gets injured.¡±

    ¡°Prissy fucking Cleric,¡± Brick said.

    Bash snorted out a laugh at that.

    Cait shot them both a hard look, and they quieted down quick. Standing up, she began to walk away and snapped her fingers as a sign for me to follow.

    I did as I was asked, and we wandered through the forest together for a stretch. She didn¡¯t say anything, so I decided to take the lead on the conversation.

    ¡°I keep being told that Clerics are rare, valuable somehow,¡± I said. ¡°What does that mean, exactly?¡±

    ¡°Every group needs a healer,¡± Cait explained. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter if you¡¯re bandits, soldiers, or adventurers. If you don¡¯t have one, you¡¯re at a disadvantage against someone who does. Besides that, you guys are the rarest spawns. Half of the population are Fighters. Rogues and Mages make up one fifth each. Clerics¡ª¡±

    ¡°That means only one tenth of the population are Clerics,¡± I said.

    Cait glanced towards me, then shook her head. ¡°Don¡¯t interrupt me. But yes. So you see why I like to keep you around. Aside from your looks, that is.¡±

    I chuckled.

    Cait stopped and faced me. ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean I won¡¯t gut you like a fish if you decide to get cute.¡±

    I nodded gravely. ¡°I¡¯ll stay in line.¡±

    She clapped my cheek affectionately. ¡°Good lad. Make an effort to get along with Brick and Bash, too. They¡¯re a little crude, but they¡¯re loyal to me. I don¡¯t want the three of you making trouble with each other.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have a problem with them. They¡¯re the ones who have a problem with me.¡±

    ¡°Then you won¡¯t have any trouble staying above it. I want¡ª¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not fair, though. I can¡¯t help if they have it out for me.¡±

    All of a sudden, Cait had a dagger against my throat. She backed me up against a tree, the wickedly sharp edge scraping against my adam¡¯s apple. Her face was centimeters from mine, wild-eyed, full lips twitching.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

    ¡°What did I fucking tell you about interrupting me?¡±

    I swallowed. The bobbing of my throat drew a bead of blood onto the flat of the blade.

    ¡°Hmm?¡± Cait asked, clearly interested in an answer.

    ¡°Not to do it,¡± I worked out.

    ¡°So why did you?¡±

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t thinking.¡±

    Cait slowly withdrew her weapon, wiping it clean on my shoulder, but her face remained uncomfortably close. Her scent, lavender, was heavy in my nostrils.

    She inched closer, lips parted. Her hand went up my chest.

    ¡°Boss!¡± Bash¡¯s shrill voice came. He jogged through the underbrush, stopping a fair distance away. ¡°We spotted a juicy one. Gotta hurry if we wanna catch ¡®em.¡±

    Cait took a step back and cleared her throat. ¡°Excellent. Let¡¯s get the show started, then.¡± After a quick glance back at me, she sprinted off with her underling.

    I followed at a brisk jog.

    Returning to the road, Bash pointed out a horse-drawn wagon coming in from the east, going in the direction of Worthing. There were two men in the seat, two in the back of the wagon, and one walking alongside it, swatting at bugs.

    Cait squinted at the wagon, one foot up on a rock. ¡°Looks valuable,¡± she said. ¡°I count three guards.¡±

    ¡°Three?¡± I asked. ¡°Can you take on that many?¡±

    Brick and Bash snickered. I glared over at them, but to little appreciable effect.

    ¡°It won¡¯t be a problem,¡± Cait said, brimming with confidence. ¡°Just watch and learn, new blood.¡±

    With that, she burst through our concealment and set off to intercept the wagon, which was now only some twenty or thirty meters down the road. Brick and Bash were quick to follow, cudgels held high, their hoarse war cries already echoing through the forest.

    It seemed this wasn¡¯t going to be a simple holdup.

    Cait drew a knife from a sheath on her leg, shouted ¡°Rend!¡±, and flicked it at the wagon. It caught one of the men in the throat, and he dipped forward with a wet gurgle.

    The ones in the back of the wagon jumped off and fumbled for weapons. The remaining man in the front tugged the horses to a stop and checked on his comrade, already cold dead. The one who had been walking alongside the wagon eyed the bandits with a bug-eyed stare, frozen stiff. Out of the whole group, he seemed the most like a fresh spawn.

    Cait readied another knife.

    ¡°Mage Hand!¡± called the man atop the wagon. A ball of crackling flame materialized in his open palm, and he chucked it at the female bandit. She rolled out of the way with a deft tumble, but her concentration was momentarily shattered.

    Brick reached the fresh spawn and clubbed him over the head. The man went down, and the bandit stomped on him a few times for good measure. Bash moved on, facing off against the two men at the back. They¡¯d armed themselves with short swords, and their relaxed, confident stances told me they knew how to use them.

    ¡°Ironskin,¡± said one, stepping in front of his partner. A matte-black substance spread across his arms and up his neck, stopping at the chin. ¡°Embolden,¡± said the other. The muscles in his exposed arm twitched and squirmed, agitated, pushing against the skin. Once more, he spoke the same word, and his form swelled further.

    Undeterred, Bash moved against them. He used Ironskin to cover only his left arm in that black, metallic substance, and Embolden to bulk up his right. He made an overhead swing at the man in front. The guard turned aside the blow with his sword, but his grip was shaken.

    The guard behind snaked out with a quick stab, hoping to catch Bash in the gut. The bandit jumped out of the way, however, and Brick chose that moment to enter the fray, catching the guard on his extended arm with a two-handed swing. Even from my hiding spot, I heard bones crack. The guard stumbled and fell with a scream.

    The Mage jumped off the front of the wagon. He and Cait approached each other, slow and deliberate.

    Cait drew a knife, imbued it with Rend, and threw it. ¡°Telekinesis,¡± the Mage said, and the knife slowed to a stop in front of his outstretched hand, lazily spinning. With a flick, he returned it to sender. Cait used a Quickstep to avoid the knife and close in on the mage, skidding to a stop just a meter or two away. With her last two weapons, a pair of daggers, she crossed the final distance.

    ¡°Clone!¡± the Mage cried, backing away. A perfect copy of the man materialized in front of him, clothes and all. It leapt at Cait and tackled her to the ground. While they grappled, the Mage retreated.

    Cait raised a dagger to deal with the clone, but the Mage used Telekinesis to yank it out of her hand. He let his helper grab it, who turned the wicked blade back on her, raising it for a stab. The Rogue deflected its dagger with her own, then cut its throat. Instead of blood, the clone leaked blue mist, the conjured humanoid dispersing into tendrils of smoke.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± the Mage cursed, looking at his right forearm. No mana left, it seemed.

    Cait rose and went after him. The Mage despaired, turning to run, but she was taking her time, a swagger in her step. ¡°Quickstep,¡± she spoke and zipped past the man in a flash. She was followed by a spray of blood, the Mage¡¯s stomach cut open. His intestines spilled into the dirt, and he stared at them in utter shock for a moment before falling forward.

    Brick and Bash had already finished with their opponents, forearms drenched in blood. Brick had a bad cut on his shoulder, but the pair were in good spirits, laughing and shoving each other.

    All in a day¡¯s work, I thought with a bitter lump in my stomach, eyeing the freshly made corpses surrounding the wagon.