《The Age of Man》 Prologue: The Final Quest Prologue Atop the highest peak in Verat lay a trail of carnage and that told the story of a truly epic battle. The air was incredibly thin, but it wasn¡¯t cold, and anybody that could make it to this incredible height would normally gain a minor achievement and have a truly awe-inspiring view of the world. Thermal vents released hot mineral rich water into the air with clockwork regularity. This created a temperate, humid environment atop the tallest mountain in the world. Ash, soot, and blood covered the normally pristine slope. A crater, almost 100 meters in diameter was centered on the slope. There were black, ash covered boulders strewn about as if some mighty god had swung his fist in anger. An angry god had swung his fist. And his sword. And at one point a whip of fire. It was all for naught. His opponent, a mere mortal, had defeated Agor, god of war, in combat. The largest piece of Agor remaining was a meter-long section of entrails near the northern edge of the peak. Agor¡¯s opponent was only in moderately better shape. Crumpled into a pile of blood was a man of medium build, brown shoulder length hair, and fair skin. Well, the skin of the right side of his face was fair, the rest was a mass of burned and blistered flesh that in no way resembled normal human flesh. As a final fuck you from Agor as he had felt his soul being severed from the wheel he had catalyzed his own soul into what was likely the most powerful [Fire Strike], his signature attack, ever seen. The sole remaining occupant of the mountain peak was missing his left arm from just above the elbow. The wound was a raw mass of muscle and bone but was oddly free of active bleeding. This wasn¡¯t due to any special skill or ability of the man, he simply had so little blood left in his body that there was none left to spurt. In fact, to call the man alive was a bit of an exaggeration. He remained on the mortal plane by only the thinnest of tethers and his heart had just this moment stopped beating. As the man prepared to close his right eye for the last time (the left had burst inside the orbit), he felt a presence on the slope. Bound by the system itself, only one younger god was allowed on this battlefield for another 20 hours, and he was dead. The man focused his mind on the familiar presence and time seemed to stop. A tenuous thread of spirit connected him and the presence. He would have turned to look upon the goddess one last time, but he had no strength left to even turn his head.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. ¡®Your long quest for vengeance is finally complete. Was it worth it?¡¯, the man heard the voice inside his head. ¡®Only time will tell,¡¯ he replied. ''True,¡¯ replied the voice of the goddess, somehow melodic even through telepathy. ¡®I sincerely hope my daughters¡¯ sacrifices were not in vain. Have you rethought my offer? Once the system institutes the new changes it will be unlikely that I¡¯ll be able to manifest on this plane.¡¯ The man waited a moment before responding. The offer was tempting. He could avoid his fate, bind his soul back into the cycle of death and rebirth, and still have his victory. But, there was a chance that something like this would happen again and, if he removed his curse, there would be nobody left to intervene on behalf of the system. Most importantly though, he would lose his memories of her. ¡®I must decline,¡¯ he replied. ¡®Thrice offered. Thrice rejected. So be it. I hope that the remainder of your eternity is peaceful, but I know that this is a futile wish. Your doom is ever to be in conflict,¡¯ there was no anger in the goddess¡¯ mental reply, only a deep sadness. After another endless moment, the presence vanished. The man let out his final breath, closed his eye for the last time, and acknowledged one of the many notifications that the system had flooded him with at the conclusion of his battle. The last thing that the man saw was his quest notification. Finally, it was over.
Quest Complete.
Congratulations!
You have completed your great quest for vengeance. The road was long and arduous but all 30 of the original pantheon of younger gods have been destroyed. Their souls have been removed from the great cycle and will be repurposed.
Reward: End of the Age of Gods.
Chapter 1: This Is For The Birds Chapter One Lucas Tyr-Andoral became aware of his surrounding quite suddenly. He always found it odd that there was no gradual return to consciousness or whatever his state of being was. Instead, there was nothing and then there was him. He pondered for a brief time on this oddity and moved on. The realm around him was a void. There was no color as there was no sense of sight. Also lacking were sound, touch, and taste. This was a realm for his soul to come to in between reincarnations. The amount of time that he was ¡°awake¡± in this realm varied. There wasn¡¯t a real sense of time here, but Lucas was generally able to meditate on between three and five concepts or problems while here before he was inserted into a vessel. The realm itself was a complex construction of the soul that was attached to, but not part of, The Great Circle of Reincarnation. At some point a body that met his criteria would become available, and Lucas would be inserted during a brief window between a host body being created and a soul being assigned to the body by the system. System access itself was limited here in this place. Lucas was able to access it with some effort, but it cost him significantly on his next birth. Generally, he just waited until he unlocked his system interface and most of his memories in his new body. Lucas thought briefly about his plans now that his primary motivation for everything he had done over the past seven millennia was gone. He hoped that he would get a decent body relatively quickly. Spending three of four centuries cycling through various sub-par hosts, unable to unlock his potential, was somewhat frustrating. Not that he felt it here. Here in this soul space, it was hard to feel anything. Even boredom was somewhat difficult to grasp, though he had managed it once. He would never make that mistake again. Lucas¡¯ soul experienced a shudder at that recollection. Suddenly, Lucas felt a tug on his essence and a sensation of movement. After a brief period of reorientation, Lucas could finally see around him. He was far above a tropical forest and descending at a rapid rate. Faster and faster Lucas fell towards the forest canopy. Then he was moving through the canopy and slowing. He came to a stop above a nest containing four speckled eggs. Each egg was about the size of a man¡¯s fist. ¡®Oh well,¡¯ he thought. ¡®At least I¡¯m not a sentient plant again. I wonder what type of bird I¡¯ll be?¡¯. Not every animal had a soul so the bird would have to be something out of the ordinary. There was a brief wobble and one of the eggs suddenly sprouted a fine web of cracks as a small beak punctured through the shell. The beak was a bright orange. The moment that the shell was punctured, Lucas felt his soul being dragged towards the now ¡°living¡± bird. He had a few brief moments to inspect his surroundings before the great spell that bound him began to compress his soul. At this point he would normally pick which memories and skills he wanted to ¡°decompress¡± as he grew, but the tiny bird that was slowly emerging from the shell through an instinctual need to survive would likely never reach a point where it could handle even the tiniest amount of sentience. The spell wouldn¡¯t target the animal if the potential wasn¡¯t there, but Lucas knew through harsh experience over the many rebirths that it was unlikely. Lucas allowed the spell to start the process of compression in the default setting and waited patiently for his next life.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. Lucas recalled his first time being reincarnated as an animal. The spell was still relatively new, and he had never been reborn. He hadn¡¯t taken into consideration what putting a three-hundred-year-old arch mage¡¯s soul into a lizard would do. The answer, Lucas found out moments after birth, was to cause critical instability leading to a chain reaction as the body attempted to draw in the mana from its environment to stabilize the now overwhelming soul that had taken up residence. Lucas¡¯ time as a lizard on his first rebirth lasted approximately 3 seconds before the lizard, and an area of approximately 50 meters in diameter, exploded in a massive unstable mana explosion. It took five different rebirths and subsequent explosions before Lucas was able to activate one of the emergency protocols built into the spell and correct the instability. It wasn¡¯t the last time the spell had run into hiccups, but that was one of the most severe. Lucas¡¯ moment of reflection ended suddenly as his soul began to compress down even smaller and consciousness could no longer be supported. His final thought as he descended down into the tiny down covered bird that had finally emerged from its shell was At least I¡¯m not a buzzard. + + + + + + The first fledgling chick of the grey speckled tulloc bird was enthusiastic in its exploration of the nest. It wandered near the edge and back to gently nudge the other eggs in the nest. The tiny bird was covered with a light blue down and had what was quite possibly the largest beak to body ratio in any bird on the planet. With a sharply hooked beak that was bright orange in color, the beak of the grey speckled tulloc was one of its defining characteristics. Nobody had ever determined exactly why such a large beak was required as the grey speckled tulloc survived almost entirely on carrion and didn¡¯t use the beak as a specialized tool or for mating rituals. The second fledgling chick of the grey speckled tulloc displayed another of the breed¡¯s defining characteristics. As it emerged into the world, it let out a piercing cry. As the bird grew and slowly absorbed mana, this cry could be used as a weapon to defend its any carcass found in the forest below from other adventitious scavengers. The third fledgling chick of the grey speckled tulloc displayed the third, and possibly most important, of the breed¡¯s key aspects. As a smaller, sharper beak emerged from the shell, quickly followed by a bird that was almost twice the size of the grey speckled tulloc. This chick was covered in a soft white down and made no noise as it slowly oriented itself. The first thing this chick did was nudge the fourth and final egg towards the edge of the nest and over, to fall to the forest floor below where it would soon become food for the many other carrion eaters in the forest. It quickly began the process of nudging the second chick to follow its unfortunate sibling to the ground. This behavior was standard for the red cuckoo, one of the best-known nest parasites in this portion of the world. The first fledgling chick, host to the soul of our hero, suffered the same ignominious fate of its two siblings, falling to the forest floor without ever uttering a peep. The adult grey speckled tullocs returned to the nest where they found one smaller white chick, the remains of two grey speckled eggs, and one bright red egg that was almost twice the size of the others. The two adult tullocs proceeded to feed the cuckoo and never noticed anything wrong thanks to the extraordinary combination of stupidity and lack of survival instincts singular to this breed of bird. Chapter 2: Reborn! Lucas found himself back in his soul space without any conscious thought between his last moment and this one. He recalled his most recent foray into the material plane. Life as a warg had been different, if not exactly the life of learning and leisure that he wanted. He had gained several nice skills, but he was starting to worry. This would be his fifteenth reincarnation since completing his great quest. I hope I don¡¯t have too many lifetimes without access to the system, he thought to himself. If the memories from multiple lifetimes built up on his soul without being properly processed, it could cause issues. He also needed to acknowledge all of the notifications that he had gained from just before his last death as a human to now. Lucas disliked having those messages pending for too long as they increased the load on the spell that quite literally held his soul together. No reason to fret. If this one isn¡¯t enough to get me access to the system as a sentient then I¡¯ll force the next one. No matter how much we progress, there will always be murderers and rapists that I can possess, Lucas thought to himself. Lucas didn¡¯t have time to ponder too deeply on the effects of the notifications on his soul or the relative morality of possessing a criminal. One moment he was in his soul space and the next he was descending through the clouds to a small homestead. There was a main house made from rough cut lumber, an outbuilding that Lucas assumed was a small barn, and a well maintained little garden. This looked like the perfect setup for his next life. Lucas drifted down through the ceiling to see a human woman of about sixteen years laying on a straw mattress, legs splayed, with an older woman at the foot of the bed. The amount of blood covering the sheets was excessive. Lucas had ¡°participated in¡± a significant number of births and he knew that something was not going well here. The young woman giving birth had crimson red hair and extremely pail skin. Her eyes were squeezed shut in pain. Her jaw was clenched. But there didn¡¯t seem to be much life left to her. Any midwife had the [Relieve Pain] spell long before she was allowed to attend a birth on her own. The only time the spell was withheld was in times of significant distress where the unborn child could die if the mother wasn¡¯t able to follow commands or keep breathing regularly. Looks like I¡¯ll be human this time, Lucas thought to himself. He had no worries about the woman who was likely to be his mother. The spell that kept him going throughout eternity would stabilize the woman and provide some his essence to keep her alive until she was stable. An unfortunate number of lives as an orphan had required that particular modification. As he felt his soul spin out a tether to the child and mother he began to prioritize skills and spells that he may need. Even after all this time and with the upgrades made throughout the millennia, the process required all of his effort. The soul just wasn¡¯t meant to house so much. I¡¯ll finally have a life of peace. No great quest. No paladins and inquisitors destroying my childhood. No stupid cuckoo birds killing me as soon as I was born. Maybe this time I can just enjoy growing up, Lucas thought. He quickly selected a dozen skills that would give him an advantage and began to focus on ensuring those were in the appropriate locations. No point handicapping myself, he thought as he focused on the section of his soul where the skills [Quick Learner] and [Precocious] were housed. Working by memory and through an intense knowledge of his soul he was able to ensure those skills were on the first layer. Maybe I¡¯ll finally give myself some sort of system interface for the next time, he thought. Making the process more streamlined was something that he had always intended to do but had never been able to devote the time to. As his soul began to compress itself like the most complex origami sculpture in the universe, Lucas heard the midwife shout out, ¡°That¡¯s it lass, one more push and we¡¯ll have you a healthy baby boy. Don¡¯t give up, just puuush!¡±The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Lucas¡¯ consciousness faded to black and the young woman on the bed let out one last incoherent yell. Into the world for the first time in almost eight hundred years the [Soul Strider] was reborn. + + + + + The woman lying on the bed finally relaxed. She didn¡¯t know where that final miraculous boost of energy had come from, but she knew that without it she would not have survived this. She was only holding on by a thread and had fought to try to ensure her baby would survive, but she was on the verge of giving up. Maybe the midwife had done something. Gerta was incredibly knowledgeable and had birthed every member of the village for the past three generations at Emmit¡¯s Lake. The woman heard a sharp slap and a wail as her baby boy let the world know that he was here. She heard the floorboards creak as Gerta brought the child up to her the head of the bed and placed a teat in the baby¡¯s mouth, allowing it to suckle. As the weight of her child settled on her chest, the young redhead received a prompt.
Congratulations!
You have given birth to a child.
Racial Experience gained: 1000.
What would you like to name your child?
She thought for a moment. She knew that Stan had his heart set on Stan Jr., but she felt an overwhelming desire to name the child something different. She recalled the story of the Hero of Red Pass. How he had fought against an entire army from the Church of Eros and held them for thirty days in the pass while outnumbered one hundred to one. Her baby boy was like that, fighting against the odds to survive. ¡°Lucas,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ll name you Lucas.¡±
You have chosen the name Lucas for your child.
This name is permanent once set. Are you sure you would like to name your child Lucas?
[Yes]
[No]
The woman selected yes and closed her eyes. She knew that Stan would agree that Lucas was a wonderful name for their child. At least, he would once he got done sulking. He could always pick the dedication name. With a gentle smile on her lips, the woman went to sleep with her child on her chest. + + + + + + Gerta left the woman with her child and stepped out of the bedroom into the living room of the small home. She wasn¡¯t sure what turned it around. Near the end she thought that she was going to have to cut the child out after the mother died, but something else happened. In front of her eyes, the mother¡¯s skin became warm and flushed again. Her breathing became even and unlabored. Even the child came out breathing calmly with eyes opened. She only slapped him because she didn¡¯t really know what to do. The father, Stan, was standing next to the fireplace. There was a kettle of boiling water secured over the roaring flames. Stan¡¯s worry as he turned to Gerta was obvious. Not too many roaring fires in the springtime, and nobody had actually asked Stan to boil water. ¡°So, how are they?¡± He asked. ¡°It was a difficult birth, but your wife and son will be fine,¡± stated Gerta. Stan immediately stepped in and crushed Gerta in a massive hug. ¡°Thank you,¡± he said with tears running down his cheeks. ¡°Thank you so much.¡± Gerta allowed the hug to go on for a few seconds longer and then placed a bony elbow directly into Stan¡¯s sternum. ¡°Alright, alright,¡± she said, ¡°that¡¯s enough of that. I need you to start cooking a meal. Your wife is going to need a broth or soup when she wakes up with a small beer. If she tolerates that then she can start eating solid foods. She lost a lot of blood. For the next few days make sure she is constantly drinking fresh water and has red meat with at least one meal. If you can get your hands on a beef liver, it¡¯ll speed up her recovery and prevent an expensive visit to the healer. You¡¯ll also want to prepare new sheets or maybe even replace the mattress,¡± she said. ¡°Like I said, there was a lot of blood.¡± Stan stood looking at her blankly for a moment then immediately rushed into the kitchen where he was likely going to destroy his poor wife¡¯s pantry. Gerta shrugged and headed out the door and back towards her cottage on the other side of the village. She had just enough time to swing by the inn and have one or two glasses of wine before it got too late in the day. She deserved it after that birth. She wasn¡¯t going to question where the magic that saved mother and child came from. Chapter 3: Crime And Punishment Lucas stared at the intruder with the intensity of a predator seeing his favorite meal walk into its den. There was no fear of this creature, he had defeated it before, but Lucas knew that he would be hard pressed to win this fight. Teeth designed to rip and tear could be seen just inside the slavering jaws of this furry behemoth. Claws that could rend and tear Lucas¡¯ unprotected flesh adorned the ends of powerful legs that could spring more than four times the creatures height in one smooth motion. In addition to that the creature had preternaturally sharp hearing and smell, making it incredibly difficult for Lucas to sneak up on it. Lucas crawled forward, slowly but steadily approaching his nemesis. One false move and he would be spotted and thus lose the advantage of surprise. If that happened, a tough fight became almost impossible without using skills that he had sworn, with the most sacred of oaths, not to use. Just one more shuffle forward and Lucas would be within striking range. Slowly. Slowly. There. Lucas prepared to spring. The muscles of his thighs and back tense with potential energy. With the merest whisper of breath, Lucas released all of that pent up energy and shot forward towards his opponent.
Sneak Attack Partial Success!
Your attempt to attack your opponent from stealth was unsuccessful as your opponent was aware of your presence, yet you still managed to initiate combat with an advantage.
Bonus Applied to Initial Attack: 50% increased damage (normally 150% increased damage)
Sneak Attack Progress: 13%
Sneak Attack Skill Level 2: 98% towards next level.
(Experience rewards for all levels gained in skill deferred until full System Access is acquired)
With an audible thump, Lucas landed on the back of his opponent from above. His opponent let out a mighty roar and attempted to contort around and get his fangs around Lucas¡¯ neck, but Lucas was firmly in place on the creature¡¯s back and could not be dislodged. The creature swiftly changed tactics and attempted to roll repeatedly and either crush Lucas, dislodge him, or, if it was incredibly lucky, both. Lucas tucked his chin and held on tightly with his arms and legs, but his opponent had taken his measure. With two handfuls of thick black fur, Lucas came free from the creatures back and rolled into the wall.
You have become dazed.
20% Reduction applied to perception, dexterity, and wisdom for 30 seconds.
(Potency and Duration reduced due to resistance)
Lucas disregarded the message and jumped back into combat. The messages came repeatedly but he refused focus on them and they faded into the background. The creature was preparing to attack for the first time in this battle and Lucas needed to be ready. The creature crouched and sprang at Lucas with its claws extended, ready to make this interloper pay for disturbing its rest and, most importantly, damaging its pride. Lucas attempted to dodge, but he wasn¡¯t fast enough or agile enough to completely negate the creatures attack. A sharp claw tore through Lucas¡¯ shirt and drew a line of blood across his chest. The strike caused Lucas¡¯ already dubious balance to degrade as he came out of his roll and he struck an end table. Both opponents froze immediately when the vase of flowers struck the floor with a resounding crash. ¡°Lucas Stanley Winthrop Hunter,¡± came Lucas¡¯ mother¡¯s voice from the kitchen. ¡°By all that is holy, you better hope that you didn¡¯t break your grandmother¡¯s vase.¡± There was a brief pause and the sound of steps as she came into the living room from the kitchen. ¡°Of course, you broke your grandmother¡¯s vase,¡± she said wearily, ¡°and you tore your shirt. Your father¡¯s going to tan your hide when he gets here. We¡¯ve told you not to roughhouse inside.¡± Lucas¡¯ mother¡¯s bright blue eyes were full of disappointment as she stared at her wonderful, beautiful, infuriating, miracle of a son. At only six years old he could already read like an adult, and made a habit of reading anything he could get his hands on. He also spoke far more eloquently than any six year old had a right to. The down side was that he got in to everything. Just last week she had found him on the roof with his head jammed down the chimney while he tried to stuff the rest of his body into it. By his side was that ridiculously named demon his father called a pet. She still wasn¡¯t sure how he had gotten on the roof to begin with and no threat had worked so far to loosen his tongue.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. ¡°Well, come here,¡± she said. ¡°Let me fix the shirt.¡± Lucas walked over to his mother, head hanging in shame. His pet void cat, an animal that the adventurers guild called a threat to any party that ventured into its habitat, hid behind the couch with its tail tucked under it. No matter how fearsome it may one day be, right now it only hoped to stay out of the way of the matriarch. It knew that when she had that tone of voice it may end up sleeping in the barn for a week or more living off of rats. It hated rat. When Lucas got within reach his mother reached down with her alabaster hands, still smooth as silk after years of living on the edge of the wilderness and released a small bit of hearth magic. First, the scratch on Lucas¡¯ chest changed from a bright red with a small streak of blood to neat scab, mostly healed. Second, the shirt itself seemed to come together. Torn pieces of cloth found their matching remnants on the other side of the tear and joined back together, slowly the tear faded away as if it was never there. ¡°Now, I want you to go to your room and wait for your father to come home because you are going to explain to him exactly how you managed to break your grandmother¡¯s vase,¡± she said with finality. She then turned to the cat, which stood as tall at the shoulder as her son¡¯s waist. She didn¡¯t even have to say anything, she simply made eye contact and pointed towards the open front door and the cat ran out as if the hounds of Harvan¡¯s hell were on its tail. Lucas shuffled to his room without a word. Luckily, there was plenty of time before his father came home. He entered his room and climbed onto his bed. He then reached under his pillow and grabbed stick. It was a fortunate find, stick. Perfectly straight except at the end where a branch was snapped off to make a perfect hook a few centimeters from the tip. The tip itself was split and allowed Lucas to fit the stick perfectly in the latch for his shutters, which his parents had inconveniently placed too high for his six-year-old height. He was sure that it was an oversight on their part, but never bothered to broach the subject with them since he did have stick. With a quick flick of the wrist, one of the shutters opened and two yellow eyes awaited him. He moved back to the head of his bed, replaced stick, and embraced his void cat as it leapt into the bed with him. He took a moment to acknowledge the blue boxes. He couldn¡¯t make out all of the words but he understood what each meant on an instinctive level. Before he started reading, they were just a feeling he had from the world, no boxes, no words, just knowledge that appeared in his head with a noise.
Congratulations!
Stealth has leveled up.
Stealth Level 3 > Level 4
Stealth Level 4: Progress 0%
(Experience rewards for all levels gained in skill deferred until full System Access is acquired)
Not all boxes stayed around, but he had to pay attention to any that talked about his skills or they wouldn¡¯t go away and he got a headache. He waited a moment then ¡°looked¡± at the last box.
Congratulatons!
You have learned the skill Dodge
By using your knowledge of your opponent and your natural agility, you have successfully avoided a blow that would have caused catastrophic damage.
Dodge Level 1: Progress 0%
(Experience rewards for all levels gained in skill deferred until full System Access is acquired)
He couldn¡¯t help but sigh. His dad wasn¡¯t going to be happy that he learned another skill. Maybe he wouldn¡¯t ask. ¡°As long as they don¡¯t ask, it¡¯s not a lie,¡± he said to his cat. The cat just stared back for a moment before shoving his head into Lucas¡¯ stomach and demanding head scratches. He was likely doomed to spend the next few days subsisting on rat thanks to his master¡¯s escapades and he was going to get all the scratches he could before the matriarch found out he was inside. + + + + + Stan returned home from the forest with the carcass of a horned bear in tow. The bear carcass was as thick as three grown men had to weigh at least a thousand kilos with a dark red tint at the tips of the light brown fur. The horn itself had been broken off at some point in the past and a small nub on the bear¡¯s muzzle was all that remained. Stan was pulling the giant carcass on a small sled that he had commissioned years ago with weight reduction and stability enchantments. That one carcass would supplement their diet for the rest of the season with the fur providing enough credit in town to cover the family¡¯s expenses for a year. It was an extremely lucky kill, one that Stan wouldn¡¯t have been able to accomplish alone if the bear hadn¡¯t been injured. So, Stan was in an uncommonly good mood when he got home until he saw his mother¡¯s vase. When Lucas heard his father¡¯s voice in the living room he knew that his slight reprieve was over. With a resigned sigh, the six year old pushed his bright red hair out of his eyes and pulled stick out from under his pillow. The cat gave him one last head butt before leaping through the open window and pushing the shutter back into place for Lucas to latch. He had just replaced stick when his father opened the door to his room. ¡°So, your ma¡¯ tells me that you n¡¯ the cat were fighting in the living room,¡± began Stan. ¡°I thought we had a talk about this, son. Your ma¡¯ don¡¯t have the energy to keep up with you, and you know better than to be fighting inside. You broke a valuable memento and caused your ma¡¯ no end of grief trying to put it back together. She was in tears when I came in.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± muttered Lucas. He didn¡¯t make eye contact with his father and sat on the edge of his bed with eyes downcast. ¡°Well, you know what I gotta do,¡± his father replied. ¡°Yes sir.¡± ¡°You know why I¡¯m doing this?¡± asked his father as he pulled out the strap. ¡°Yes sir,¡± replied Lucas. At least, he tought as he turned around and grabbed the edge of his bed, he didn¡¯t ask about the new skill.
Pain Resistance skill increased
Pain Resistance Level 3 progress 5%
Pain Resistance Level 3: 15% towards next level.
Chapter 4: A Little Smackarel Of Something Lucas woke up the next morning to the sound of the rooster crowing. His dad had offered to let him watch as he skinned the bear and promised that Lucas could go into the village with him if he was good. He jumped down off of the bed and quickly pulled his pants on. He felt bad that his dad had to whip him yesterday, but ,without being able to use his skills, he grew bored so easily, and the cat had been laying there so completely oblivious. He didn¡¯t have the heart to tell his dad that his pain resistance skill had leveled up some time ago and that the whippings didn¡¯t really hurt anymore. Better to keep that a secret as well, otherwise his dad would be sad that he would have to find some other way to punish him. Lucas eventually made his way to the kitchen where his mother was preparing breakfast. He saw the large pot that she used to make porridge and let out a small sigh of disappointment. He hated porridge days. ¡°Don¡¯t you start your moping this early, young man,¡± said his mother. ¡°I can¡¯t make bacon every morning to fill that bottomless pit you call a stomach.¡± ¡°Sorry mum,¡± replied Lucas. ¡°I just don¡¯t like the way porridge tastes.¡± ¡°Well, you¡¯ll be happy to know that your father managed to find a hive of yellow swarm beelings. They had left the hive unguarded to chase down that bear, and he managed to get a couple of combs,¡± his mother finished and reached up to the cabinet to pull down a jar full of golden liquid honey. Lucas almost couldn¡¯t contain his excitement. Honey was just about the only thing in the world that could make porridge a decent breakfast. ¡°Though I¡¯m not sure if I should give you any this morning,¡± said his mother. ¡°You did break a valuable family heirloom yesterday.¡± She paused while turning with the honey and tilted her head as if thinking about a difficult problem. ¡°I¡¯m sorry mom!¡± exclaimed Lucas. ¡°I really am. I promise, I wasn¡¯t trying to break it. I¡¯ll never fight in the house again. Swear!¡± ¡°I¡¯ll hold you to that, young man,¡± said his mother. ¡°Now one spoon full and you¡¯ll finish every bite of porridge.¡± She said as she drizzled a large spoon full of the delicious golden honey into the bowl. Beeling honey was prized around the world. It had restorative properties, increased vitality, and gave a boost to energy that lasted most of the day. If taken in large quantities it could become addictive, but the residents of Emmit¡¯s Lake knew well how to use the precious resource properly. The beeling honey was one of the exports from this area, since beelings could only survive with a precise mixture of climate, mana concentration, and food sources. All attempts to transplant a beeling hive had resulted in the death of all of the 1 foot tall beelings. The kingdom had even outlawed transportation of beelings in an effort to prevent their population from declining any further and to protect the precious resource. Lucas finished the porridge without complaint and put his bowl in the sink before heading towards the barn. His father had already put the bear on the special hanger in the barn yesterday and allowed all of the blood to drain into a large basin with runes designed to prevent deterioration or contamination. Lucas didn¡¯t know that, but he did know that if you put a toad in the basin it died but didn¡¯t start smelling like a toad normally did after a couple of weeks. He never found out just how long it took for a toad to start smelling funny in the basin since his dad had found it and he had gotten to level 2 of pain resistance that day. The blood would be bottled and sold along with the hide, bones, and various organs. Lucas didn¡¯t say anything to his father as he entered the barn. He just walked over to the stool that his father had set out for him and watched. His father was still setting up his tools. There were knives of various shapes and sizes, pry bars, clamps, and some sort of spoon looking thing. Lucas looked closer and saw that it was actually one of his mother¡¯s slotted serving spoons. He hoped that he didn¡¯t get blamed for it coming up missing. The barn always smelled of old leather and hay. There was a second level hidden in shadow that held various dried goods, extra parts for his father¡¯s traps, and various other interesting things. He wasn¡¯t allowed up there since the trap incident, but Lucas always held out hope that he would be allowed to go up there and explore again one day. On the bottom level there were a few stalls that his father used to keep live animals that he captured and sold to the traveling merchants that came through this area a few times a year. All but the mule¡¯s stall was empty at the moment, otherwise Lucas wouldn¡¯t be allowed in the barn at all. That was the rule after he accidentally opened one of the stalls with a juvenile ryth lizard, an animal similar to a crocodile in shape and size but with a scorpion tail and completely land based. It shot acid out of a gland on its tail and Lucas¡¯ father swore that it would have eaten him whole had he not been there. Lucas was pretty sure he and his pet could have taken the lizard if given the chance.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. After Lucas had been sitting for a few moments, a black shadow separated from the wall on the other side of the barn and headed towards Lucas. Stan glanced up from where he was setting up his tools and reached into a pouch at his belt. The void cat stopped its lazy walk towards Lucas and stared intently at the pouch. ¡°Alright, Midnight, com¡¯ere,¡± his father said in a sickly-sweet tone of voice. ¡°You know you want the treat. Com¡¯ere.¡± The void cat just stared at Stan and refused to move. ¡°C¡¯mon, Midnight,¡± Stan tried again to coax the void cat towards him with a piece of jerky that the cat loved. ¡°Dad,¡± said Lucas, ¡°you know that he doesn¡¯t answer to that name. Come on, Mr. Snugglepuss, I¡¯ll get you some jerky later¡± Lucas then patted his knee and his void cat, Mr. Snugglepuss, sauntered over with a contemptuous flick of his tail at the man that refused to call him by his proper name. The big man might be the alpha, but Mr. Snugglepuss refused to answer to the name Midnight. ¡°I don¡¯t even know how you managed to name the blasted thing. I swear, your ma¡¯ just had to try to be funny. I¡¯ll never get her sense of humor,¡± Stan said. He then tossed the piece of jerky in his hand towards the cat who promptly snagged it out of the air with one bite. With Mr. Snugglepuss¡¯ head resting comfortably on his lap, Lucas watched as his father made the first cut into the hide. Guided by his high leveled skinning skill there were no missed cuts and the hide came free of the bear in almost pristine condition. The meat was trimmed from the bones with no waste. The important organs went into a chest, big enough to fit Lucas and Mr. Snugglepuss in that would keep them fresh.Finally, the head, which was removed with a large hand saw last night, was placed on a work table, and Stan began to dig through the roof of the mouth into the depths of the skull for the beast core. ¡°You know why I cut the head off last night and placed it in the room in the back?¡± asked Stan. ¡°No, sir,¡± replied Lucas. ¡°A beast core needs to be prepared jus¡¯ right,¡± said his father. ¡°I learned how to prepare the cores from my pa, who learned from his pa. Now, anybody can jus¡¯ cut the core out of a beast and sell it for a lick. But, if you cut the head off and let it set for the night with the moon shinin¡¯ on it and the proper runes in use, the magic remaining in the brain¡¯ll condense,¡± he said as he finally began to tug on something with the tool in his hand. ¡°And, instead of a regular core, you get,¡± with a wet squelch and several pinkish grey gobs of brain matter his father pulled a stone the size of a fist from inside the mouth of the horned bear, ¡°a high quality core, or sometimes even a exquisite quality core.¡± Lucas looked at the core in his father¡¯s hand. Unlike the ones he had seen in the village last spring on his birthday, this one had a slight glow and shimmered with all the colors of the rainbow. It was smooth instead of rough edged. Lastly, Lucas felt a pull towards the core that he had never felt before. It was almost as if the core was calling for Lucas to take it and use it. ¡°Feel that, son?¡± his father asked. ¡°That¡¯s the difference between a regular core and a high-quality core. The essence is clean, don¡¯t take a whole lot of work to prep the core for folks to use it. One day, I¡¯ll teach you the steps that my pa taught me. Even if you don¡¯t become a hunter, you can use our family¡¯s recipe to turn a bit of profit with a lil¡¯ work.¡± ¡°Why are cores so important?¡± asked Lucas as he continued to pet his cat¡¯s head. ¡°People use ¡®em for pretty much all the enchantments that are made, they can be used to power a mill or a forge, they can even be used to increase levels for people who are stuck at a bottleneck,¡± replied his father. ¡°These things are the reason that men die deep under the ground fightin¡¯ all the monsters and ugliness in the dungeons. Legend has it that the floating city of Elryth is powered by just one legendary core from a lesser wyrm.¡± His father placed the core in a box that was set aside for it. As the door to the box shut, there was a brief flare of blue light around the seam as the enchantment activated and then the box was just a normal, if pretty, wooden box. It was then set next to half a dozen of its brethren in a beautifully worked hardwood chest. ¡°We¡¯re lucky, son,¡± continued Lucas¡¯ father. ¡°Beast ranges like the one we live near that don¡¯t threaten humanity with waves every couple a¡¯ years are rare. Most people don¡¯t have access to the resources that we do and its only through your grandpa and grandma¡¯s sheer willingness to fight n¡¯ scrape, that we have this homestead n¡¯ our writ. That¡¯s why I was so angry at you for breakin¡¯ that vase of your grandma¡¯s last night. I don¡¯t have too much to remember my ma¡¯ by. The house, the barn, all of our tools, those were from my pa,¡± he finished looking around the barn with a wistful expression. Lucas couldn¡¯t have felt more small than he did at that moment. No matter that he didn¡¯t mean to break the vase. Right then he swore to himself that he would never fight with Mr. Snugglepuss in the house again. The whipping didn¡¯t hurt near as bad as the look that filled his father¡¯s face when he talked about Lucas¡¯ grandmother. ¡°Wasn¡¯t tryin¡¯ to get you down, son,¡± said his father. ¡°You got punished. You didn¡¯t complain about it none. Way I see it, it¡¯s over n¡¯ done with. Now, let¡¯s go get washed up and have lunch then we can head into the village n¡¯ see if we can¡¯t get into a lil¡¯ trouble.¡± Stan stood and stared at the spot where his son had been sitting. The stool was laying on the ground and Lucas and the cat were halfway back to the house before the last syllable left his mouth. Sometimes he worried about the boy, but even with all the headache and trouble the boy caused, he was proud of his son and loved every minute of it Chapter 5: The First Title Lucas could hardly contain his excitement as he and his father left the yard with the small cart hitched to his father¡¯s mule. The bench seat wasn¡¯t very comfortable, and, had Lucas been grown, it wouldn¡¯t have fit both his father and himself. The bed of the cart wasn¡¯t overly large, but it was big enough to hold enough supplies to get the family through the whole year if need be, according to his father. Lucas knew that the last time they came back from the village the cart was almost rubbing on the wheels and the sacks of flour, beans, tools, and various other items needed to keep a household running were stacked higher than Lucas was tall. To be fair, that wasn¡¯t much since Lucas was only a little over four feet tall even now, a year later. The village was about four hours away by cart. Lucas knew that a trip to the village meant a night at the inn and the chance to play with some of the village kids in the morning as Mr. Baker loaded up the cart with all of the supplies that his dad ordered. Lucas spent the first two hours fantasizing about being the king of pirates like in his dream last night when he noticed his father looking around, nose in the air, as if scenting something. Lucas¡¯ father was a hunter who lived on the edge of a beast range and made his living tracking dangerous beasts for their cores and his sense of smell was especially sharp due to his [Bloodhound] trait. Without saying a word, his father pulled a dagger with a sheath from the bag in the back of the cart and handed it to Lucas. With a nod towards the cart¡¯s bed he said, ¡°Trouble ahead. Get under the hide, stay down. If it comes to it, do just like I taught you.¡± Lucas took the dagger, a veritable longsword in his tiny hands, and crawled under the bear hide. A few minutes later he felt the cart come to a stop and his father¡¯s voice rang out. ¡°Afternoon folks, seems to be a branch blocking the path here. Ya¡¯ll need a hand clearing it outta¡¯ the way?¡± he asked. The next thing that Lucas heard was raucous laughter from multiple people in front of the cart. ¡°This here is what you might call a toll path, and that tree that is so conveniently blocking your path is our toll gate,¡± yelled the voice of a man who sounded like he gargled with rocks every morning. ¡°We¡¯re going to have to insist that you step down from the wagon and give us all your valuables and weapons. In return, well, me and the boys here will let you go in one piece.¡± ¡°I was afraid you folks was gonna¡¯ say that,¡± replied Lucas¡¯ father. ¡°¡¯Fraid I can¡¯t let you have my stuff. Got mouths to feed n¡¯ can¡¯t afford to have to go back empty handed. I¡¯m gonna¡¯ ask nice. Will you move outta¡¯ the way, please?¡± ¡°You hear that, boys?¡± replied the gravel voiced man. ¡°This hick thinks we¡¯re just gonna¡¯ let him keep all his stuff cuz¡¯ he asked nice. Well, hick, looks like me n¡¯ the boys are gonna have to teach you a lesson.¡± The wagon gave a jerked side to side as Lucas¡¯ father¡¯s weight suddenly left the seat. Immediately after there was a loud thunk as a crossbow bolt splintered through the seat and the wall of the bed. About a foot in front of Lucas¡¯ face was a quarrel with a wicked barbed tip shoved through the wagon bed. Lucas then heard a meaty thwack and a scream of pain from someone who wasn¡¯t his father. ¡°Damnit, what¡¯s wrong with you useless pieces of shit. It¡¯s one hick farmer with a rusty machete,¡± yelled gravel voice. The next sound that Lucas heard was a second scream from one of the would be bandits. Lucas decided that it was probably safe to take a peak and stuck his head over the edge of the cart. He saw his father crouched in a fighter¡¯s stance, knees bent, elbows in, just like he taught Lucas. His 6¡¯2¡± frame was compressed into a bundle of death with the machete he used to clear brush in the forest in his right hand and a second dagger in his left, held point out and slightly below the diaphragm, again just like he preached to Lucas. Lucas¡¯ dad called this stance the gut ripper. If someone came in too close, he could stick the dagger in the left side of the abdomen and make a swift left to right slice. If he was lucky, his opponents ¡°innards would become outards.¡± On the ground behind his father were two bodies. One was about sixteen or seventeen, it was hard to tell because a large part of his face was missing and there was a huge gash in his throat. Lucas¡¯ father must have gotten a good strike from above as he jumped out of the wagon. A few feet from the body was the lower jaw and a few missing teeth from the strike and a second body. This one wasn¡¯t as badly damaged, just a simple slice through the area between the fourth and fifth rib. The rib cage was spread apart Lucas thought he could see some dark grey tissue and a massive pool of blood under the man. I wonder if there¡¯s a use for human organs like with the bear. I bet the alchemists can make some kind of potion from it, Lucas thought to himself. Dad must have used his [Bull Charge] to get through the man¡¯s guard and get the hand above the head. So, that¡¯s why he had me practice keeping my feet planted while he pushed me. Maybe I should tell him about my new [Dodge] skill. Lucas didn¡¯t feel any true fear for his father. His father taught Lucas to fight and went out into the beast range every few days to hunt creatures that would make most men pass out from fear. As far as Lucas was concerned this was simply another training exercise. Arrayed against Lucas¡¯ father was the man that Lucas had named Gravel Voice in his head and two other bandits. One was bleeding profusely from a wound just above his right eye. Lucas¡¯ father had a gash on his left shoulder, but, if it was bothering him at all, nobody could tell. Stan¡¯s tan, weather beaten face was blank, there wasn¡¯t any anger or fear on it. His light brown hair, bleached from years outdoors, was tied into a queue that fell to his shoulders. His emerald green eyes were narrowed in concentration. Lucas watched with rapt attention as his father dodged a lazy swing from the bandit on his left and struck out at the bandit on his right, scoring a small strike to the uninjured bandit¡¯s sword arm. With any luck Stan would sever the bicep, but that was unlikely with just one fairly minor strike.Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! Stan reset and began backing and circling to prevent the bandits from flanking him. Luckily the trail was not too wide and could use the natural obstructions to keep them in front of him. Lucas wanted to focus on his father¡¯s fight, but something was nagging him. It didn¡¯t take long for him to realize what the reason for the uncomfortable feeling was. The crossbow, he thought to himself. Using every bit of skill with stealth that he had, Lucas crept out of the back of the cart and into the brush on the right. He was following the angle of the crossbow bolt back into the forest, moving as carefully as he could, and keeping to the shadows to maximize his stealth ability. It didn¡¯t take long for him to zero in on his target. The crossbowman was busy working some contraption, the crossbow was pointed down into the ground, and the man stood on a pair of stirrups while working a lever up and down. Every time the lever came up the string of the crossbow would move up a little more. Lucas gripped his dagger tightly with both hands as the man let out an explosive breath, slotted a bolt into the crossbow, took a knee, and raised the crossbow to his shoulder. I¡¯ll only get one shot, Lucas thought. He moved forward soundlessly until he was within striking distance of the would be assassin. His vision narrowed to a single point as lessons that his father had drilled into him for the past year came to the fore. When attacking from behind versus humanoids like goblins and gnolls, the three best areas to strike are the base of the skull where the spinal column enters the skull or either kidney. Trying for a heart strike will almost certainly result in a deflected bone strike. Lucas could almost hear his father in his head while Lucas was forced to strike at a dummy made from a bristle boar and various items his father had in the barn. Lucas bent his knees, corrected his grip on the dagger, and lunged. There was a grunt, a sudden twang of the crossbow firing, and a thud as the would be assassin fell to the ground, dead.
Sneak Attack Critical Success!
Your attempt to attack your opponent from stealth was extremely successful. Your target was completely unaware of your presence and you struck a vital area.
Bonus Applied to Initial Attack: Death Strike (normally 150% increased damage)
Sneak Attack Progress: 2%
Sneak Attack Skill Level 3: 0% towards next level.
(Experience rewards for all levels gained in skill deferred until full System Access is acquired)
Congratulations!
Sneak Attack has leveled up.
Sneak Attack Level 2 > Level 3
Sneak Attack Level 3: Progress 0%
(Experience rewards for all levels gained in skill deferred until full System Access is acquired)
Achievement Unlocked!
Cold Blooded
You have assassinated your first target. The path of an assassin is dark and lonely, but you thrive in the shadow¡¯s cold embrace rather than huddling over the fires of hearth and home with the rest of humanity.
Class Option Available: Assassin (You do not currently meet the minimum requirements to select this class)
Title Gained: Manslayer. This title is optional as you slew an individual who had the Manslayer title active.
The skill [Sneak Attack] may be upgraded to [Assassinate]
(Experience rewards for achievements deferred until full System Access is acquired)
There were more notifications about his experience gained from the kill available, but Lucas quickly acknowledged them and moved on. This was no time to play with the blue boxes. He looked through the bushes where the crossbowman was aiming and saw a truly remarkable site. The bandit with the cut above his eye was now laying on top of the bandit with the cut on his arm. The first bandit had a crossbow bolt sticking out of his back, and his sword was jammed all the way through the second bandit''s chest. With those two out of the way, Stan was quickly dominating the bandit leader. Gravel voice was attempting to ward off Stan¡¯s savage blows, but he didn¡¯t seem to have near the strength or dexterity that Stan did. In fact, he appeared to be weaker in pretty much every area. Only a truly stupid man would attack a [Hunter] in his own territory and a man with any wisdom would have retreated as soon as the first two bandits died. With a savage strike that pushed Gravel Voice¡¯s weapon out to the side, Stan finished the fight with brutal efficiency. The machete came back in and sliced Gravel Voice¡¯s head clean from his body. There was furious fountain of blood and the body fell to the ground with its legs twitching. Stan turned to see his son coming from the forest, bloody dagger held in both hands and seemed to completely deflate. ¡°Come here, boy,¡± Stan said. He knelt down and took the dagger gently from Lucas¡¯ hands. ¡°I told you to stay in the cart.¡± He didn¡¯t wait for a reply but continued immediately. ¡°I¡¯m glad you didn¡¯t. You most likely saved my life just then. Did you get the title?¡± asked Stan. Lucas hesitantly nodded his head yes. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, son. No child should ever have to earn that title, but we don¡¯t live in a pretty world n¡¯ with your¡­gifts¡­I figure that you¡¯re prob¡¯ly gonna¡¯ earn a lot more. It¡¯s ok, son. As long as I¡¯m here I¡¯ll do my best to keep you from havin¡¯ to do something like that again,¡± Stan said as he pulled his son into a tight hug. ¡°Let¡¯s get to town and get you a bath and some food, in that order.¡± Lucas didn¡¯t say anything for the remainder of the trip. All he did was sit and replay the memory of the bandit falling to the ground, a lifeless husk, and remembered the feeling of his dagger sliding into the bandit¡¯s skull. Chapter 6.1: Sweet Dreams Lucas was worn out by the time they got to the village of Emmit¡¯s Lake. Normally, his head turned like it was on a swivel as he took in all the sights and sounds. Tonight, though, he sat with his head leaning against his father¡¯s shoulder. To call Emmit¡¯s Lake a village was a bit of a misnomer. It was technically a village by the kingdom¡¯s records, and it was taxed and treated as such. There was no court ranked noble residing here to ensure the crown¡¯s laws were enforced. In fact, the crown probably didn¡¯t even know the village existed. It was simply a line item on a ledger book and a notation as the location where certain luxury goods began their long trip to the homes of the elite in the kingdom. The village itself was home to a blacksmith, alchemist, leatherworker, carpenter, and about a dozen other professions that were required to keep society running on the frontier. It housed anywhere around a thousand people in the village proper and another two to four thousand souls lived within a day¡¯s walk from the village walls. Due to the vagaries of crown law, the village had a wooden palisade instead of a stone wall that would normally be seen for an area that was as developed as it was. The wood itself was glossy and harder than steel. At night the wall let off a soft glow that lit up an area of about 20 meters from the wall. To call it a simple village defense was an understatement. There was one village guard on duty at the gate. He didn¡¯t stop any of the traffic coming through the gate or inspect any of the goods leaving. He watched for beasts that got too close to the walls and had a variety of skills that would ping if someone on his wanted list came within line of sight. As such, his day was mostly filled with boredom unless one of his buddies came by for a game of checkers. As Stan passed through the gate he got a nod of recognition from the young guardsman and gave one back. Stan debated stopping to tell the guardsman on duty about the bandits, but he wanted to get his son to the safety of the inn and a bed first. There were only a handful of people in the inn when Stan arrived. Lucas followed him in, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. The nap seemed to have done him some good as he was now looking around with obvious delight at all the interesting sights and sounds. Directly in front of them as they walked in was the bar. Behind it sat several large kegs of ale and a few bottles of strong spirits. To the right was the common where the few patrons sat and ate and drank. There was a set of double doors at the end of the common room that barred Lucas from seeing any more in that direction. Behind the bar was a door that clearly led to the kitchen and storage rooms. To the left was a set of stairs that led up to the rooms. Tucked neatly under the stairs was a third door that was also closed. ¡°Afternoon, Blake,¡± said Stan. ¡°I need a bath for me n¡¯ the boy, room for us for the night and whatever you have cookin¡¯ for dinner as soon as it¡¯s ready.¡± The innkeeper, a blonde giant with a mustache that seemed to be trying to make up for the fact that the man had no hair anywhere else on his head, looked up at Stan and broke into a wide grin. ¡°You¡¯re in luck, we just so happen to have two baths available. You got a change of clothes?¡± he asked. ¡°Those look like you bathed in blood.¡± He raised an eyebrow at the end of the sentence and left the question unspoken. ¡°Yeah, we got a change of clothes. Met some trouble on the road over. New bandit gang ¡®bout two hours out. You folks had any shipments or expected arrivals not make it?¡± replied Stan. Blake¡¯s large grin faded rather suddenly. ¡°Matter of fact, we have had a shipment that¡¯s been due for a couple weeks now. Nothing major, the first real caravan came in almost as soon as the first honeysuckle blossomed, but there was some odds and ends coming from the capitol,¡± he replied.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. ¡°Well they¡¯re not a worry anymore,¡± Stan stated. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure I got ¡®em all. If you can send someone to let the guard know about ¡®em they hit me about two kilometers from the fork to the Davis homestead. Maybe someone can backtrack to their hidey hole n¡¯ get back some of ya¡¯lls stuff.¡± Stan didn¡¯t mention Lucas¡¯ role in the fight. There was no way letting anybody know about his ability to use [Sneak Attack] was a good thing. Lucas¡¯ ability to learn new abilities and level up those same abilities was a well kept secret in the Hunter household. Only one other person knew, and Stan was planning on having Lucas meet him sometime very soon. If anybody else found out that Lucas could learn class specific abilities like [Sneak Attack] and [Stealth] before getting system access at puberty, there would be no keeping his son safe from the greedy nobles, wizards, clans, sects, and junior carpentry clubs that would do anything for an edge. Blake reached over and rang a small bell on the counter. From out of the back of the inn the most beautiful girl that Lucas had ever seen emerged. She must have been sixteen or seventeen years old, but Lucas was immediately smitten. She had flowing golden hair that came down to mid back. It was pinned back to keep it out of her face and there was a pink flower in her hair. She had a brown apron on, but to Lucas it might as well have been a ball gown. ¡°This is my daughter, Helga, shell show you where to go to get a bath,¡± said Blake. ¡°Lucas, follow her to the baths, I know where they are. I¡¯m gonna go grab my bag and meet you there,¡± said Stan. ¡°Blake, you got someone can take care of my cart and mule?¡± Blake nodded his head and hit the bell again, this time a different sound chimed through the inn and a young boy came in from the back. Blake told him to follow Stan and handle the cart and mule and Stan and the boy headed out. ¡°Follow me please,¡± said Helga to Lucas. Lucas didn¡¯t trust himself to speak around this angel so just nodded his head and followed behind. She led him through the door under the stairs that went to an area that was noticeably warmer than the common room. Along the hall were curtains, five to each side. At the far end of the hall were two alcoves that were across from each other and empty. Inside the alcove was a cubby hole that would could hold belongings, a bench, a stool, a bucket, and an extremely large tub. Helga walked over to the tub and touched a rune that was mounted on a small pedestal at the end. There was a flash and steaming hot water came pouring out of a pipe in the wall into the tub. ¡°This is the control pedestal. If you touch where I touched more water will come out,¡± she said with a tone that indicated that she had given this same speech a thousand times. She reached over and grabbed a bucket and brush. ¡°Fill this bucket with water, sit on the stool to wash and rinse before you get in the tub. Only get in the tub when you¡¯re clean. The water will wash down the drain over there, so don¡¯t worry about making a mess. You get up to an hour for the bath, I¡¯ll flip the timer as I leave out. If you go over then you¡¯ll be charged for a whole hour again, so I wouldn¡¯t recommend it. Do you have any questions?¡± She said all of this with one long breath. Lucas just shook his head, still too intimidated by this beautiful woman to trust his ability to speak coherent sentences. She stepped out and pulled the curtain to. As Lucas began to strip down, the curtain twitched and his father¡¯s face appeared on the other end. Lucas almost fell trying to pull his pants back up as fast as possible. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, son, Helga¡¯s gone,¡± Stan said. Lucas¡¯ cheeks turned a bright red, but he didn¡¯t say anything. Stan let out a laugh. ¡°You should know,¡± he said, ¡°Helga has a passive charm skill. Pretty much every boy in the entire village is infatuated with her, and about half the adults that should know better. Poor Blake gets at least one offer for marriage a week.¡± Lucas let out a sad sigh. Not because he had been charmed, that was pretty obvious from the way he acted, now that he thought about it. No, he sighed because now he knew had no chance. There was no way Helga would wait the 8 years needed for him to come of age. Lucas resigned himself to never finding true love and went to fill his bucket. Chapter 6.2: Sweet Dreams After their bath, Lucas and his father made their way to the small room that they would share tonight. In it was a set of twin beds, a closet, and, sitting on a fold out table in the corner, a covered dish from which a savory odor wafted. Lucas¡¯ mouth started watering as soon as he came into the room. His early lunch of bread and ham was a distant memory, and his stomach was reminding him of that fact. ¡°There¡¯s still a few hours of daylight left,¡± Stan said after they had finished the meal in record time. ¡°I need to go handle some business. Do you want to come with me or stay here in the inn?¡± Stan had no doubt what Lucas¡¯ answer was going to be. What curious six year old would turn down an opportunity to explore? ¡°I think I¡¯ll stay here, dad,¡± Lucas responded. This shocked Stan so much that he just sat and stared at his son with his mouth open. ¡°I don¡¯t really feel like walking. I think I might lay down and sleep early. Is it okay if I go play with the other kids near the well in the morning?¡± he asked. ¡°That¡¯s fine, son,¡± replied Stan. ¡°Well, stay in the room, don¡¯t get into any trouble, and I¡¯ll be back in a little bit. If you really need anything, let Blake or Helga know.¡± With that said, Stan got up and left as quickly as he could. He wanted to handle the business with the core quickly, arrange for someone to come look at the hide, and get his order in for supplies so that they could be loaded up fairly early tomorrow. Lucas stood and stretched then quickly undressed for bed. His head had barely touched the pillow when sleep claimed him. Unlike many children, Lucas always looked forward to sleep because with sleep came dreams. As far back as Lucas could remember, he had experienced the occasional dream that was as vivid as real life, but over the past year they had been more and more frequent. Lucas never had any trouble remembering these dreams. Lucas found himself in an unfamiliar ship¡¯s cabin. Since these particularly realisitic dream had started, he had begun each dream on the deck of the ship. Hanging from the ceiling was a shaded lantern on a chain, swaying side to side with the rhythm of the ship. The steady squeak of the chain was a reassuring metronome. There were hooks that would secure the lantern during bad weather, but Lucas had never seen how that was done. Lucas didn¡¯t control the body he was in. Lucas was an observer only in these dreams, albeit one who felt pain and pleasure along with his host. Lucas knew this was a dream, and he knew that nothing bad would really happen to him, no matter how violent the dream got. After a few moments where the body he was riding in appeared to be staring at the ceiling doing nothing, there was the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway followed by a loud knock. His host let out a sigh, stood, and yelled out, ¡°Enter.¡± ¡°Cap¡¯n Lucasi, sir,¡± said the skinny, one eyed man who entered. There was no fancy eye patch covering the hole in the man¡¯s eye, there was simply a gaping hole covered in scar tissue where the orb used to lay. ¡°The caravel¡¯ll be in range in a bit over n¡¯ hour, sir.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± replied Lucasi. ¡°I¡¯ll be up in a moment. Have the bard start a jaunty tune, soon we¡¯ll have this quest complete and we¡¯ll be able to spend some well deserved leisure time in Port Rodgers.¡± The one eyed man gave an evil, gap toothed grin before spinning around and slamming the door in his haste to get up the stairs and share the good news. Lucasi waited a moment before walking over to the vanity. Lucasi unlatched the case to a small mirror mounted to the cabin wall and stared at himself in the perfect reflection. Lucasi had thick, black, curly hair that extended to his shoulder in ringlets. His mustache was just as black with a sharply pointed goatee on his chin. Everything about Lucasi screamed villain. ¡°I¡¯ve done this so many times throughout the ages, yet it still feels just as odd now as I remember it being the first time,¡± Lucasi said, apparently to himself, while staring in the mirror. To Lucas¡¯ point of view, it seemed as if Lucasi was talking directly to him. ¡°Sometime today I¡¯m going to catch up to the little caravel that I¡¯ve been chasing since last night. On board is the [High Priest] of Thresh, one of the younger gods. Right now, you are conflicted because you had to take a life. This lifetime was actually the first time I had to kill a man before I had access to the system and many of our memories. Like you, I¡¯d only had a few dreams to guide me. I had to learn the hard way that morality isn¡¯t black and white. Good and evil are often times based on your perspective. That priest thinks of himself as good. The people on board that ship think themselves beset by evil pirates that are coming to take their lives as they attempt to escort a holy man to safety. They¡¯re right. I¡¯m an evil pirate.¡± The perspective changed as Lucasi moved to get dressed. He put on his overcoat and a pair of calf length leather boots. From a peg next to his bed he pulled down a beautifully tooled leather harness with a gold and silver handled rapier poking out of the sheath. ¡°From my perspective, I¡¯m enforcing justice on a group of religious fanatics who have been responsible for the deaths of thousands of people this year. They burned down a small pirate haven and killed men, women, and children whose only crime was that they lived in a city that also housed a pirate clan. As you have no doubt seen in your dreams, many of the followers of the younger gods have performed similar atrocities in the names of their deity. From the point of view of the council who offered the bounty on this caravel, I¡¯m a good man. And they¡¯re also right.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. ¡°Most of what I¡¯ll teach you is sailing and fighting. Those are important things for you, for us, to know in order to complete our great quest. But what I want you to remember, now that you have the [Manslayer] title, is that you have to defend what¡¯s yours, make your own way, and never let someone else determine what good and evil mean to you. No title can define you. You determine your own morality and as long as you stay true to yourself, nothing, not even the gods, can sway you from your path. ¡°Finally,¡± he said as he stepped across the cabin towards the door. ¡°strength will be your compass. The world is harsh and the strong make the rules. You got your title because you were stronger than your opponent. If you want to make your own rules, follow your own code, then you have to be strong enough to do so.¡± There was a moment of blackness as Lucasi exited the door and suddenly Lucas was looking out over the bow of the ship. Standing out majestically at the prow of the ship was a familiar figurehead. Almost all of Lucas¡¯ dreams about the pirate had started with a view similar to this. The earlier message from the pirate was the first time anybody had spoken to him through the dream. The intricately carved hound¡¯s head cut through the waves seemingly towing the ship after it in pursuit of its prey. Salt spray splashed the deck and the wind filled the sails as the pirate ship drew inexorably closer to the smaller caravel. It was a beautiful day and the crystal clear waters of the Myriad Sea showed the reef that the caravel was heading towards with particular clarity. ¡°Mr. Smee,¡± he yelled out, ¡°I thought I said I wanted a jaunty tune.¡± The skinny pirate from earlier ran up the steps to the bridge. As he came into view of Lucasi, he called out, ¡°Sorry cap¡¯n, that sorry sack a¡¯ shit is still asleep. You want me to cane him?¡± There was a glint of pure joyful malice in the man¡¯s eye as he mentioned caning the poor bard. ¡°No, Mr. Smee, that won¡¯t be necessary. Send one of the cabin boys down with this message for me, ¡®play or swim¡¯. If he¡¯s not up here in one turn of the glass, then let him sleep until he is well rested, give him a full meal from the galley, and toss him overboard, and we¡¯ll get a new [Bard] in Port Royale after we send these Threshites to meet their god.¡± ¡°Aye, aye, cap¡¯n,¡± replied Mr. Smee. There was a quick nod of his head and the young man standing quietly in the corner ran down the steps from the raised bridge to the deck below and then down into the crew quarters. ¡°You think he¡¯ll make the eye?¡± asked the one eyed man. ¡°No, Mr. Smee, I don¡¯t,¡± said Lucasi. ¡°Even if he did, I think he overestimates the difference in our drafts. My ship may be three times his size, but I only draw maybe one meter more water. Threading the needle in that particular reef isn¡¯t out of the question for The Sinner.¡± The two ships drew closer together as the minutes passed by. Within ten minutes of the captain¡¯s arrival on deck an upbeat tune seemed to wash over the ship. The crew didn¡¯t pause in what they were doing but their actions became swifter and more precise. The ship itself seemed to respond to the [Bard]¡¯s music as it crashed through the waves with a noticeable increase in speed. ¡°Well, Mr. Smee, it looks like we won¡¯t be needing a new [Bard],¡± said Lucasi. Mr. Smee didn¡¯t say anything, but he was clearly disappointed that he wouldn¡¯t be able to toss the poor musician overboard later in the day. ¡°We¡¯ll be in the red range of the long gun in about five minutes, cap¡¯n. You want us to try to put a few rounds through their sails?¡± asked Mr. Smee. ¡°That sounds like an excellent idea Mr. Smee. Tell Mr. Bridger that if he can put a round through the mainsail before he gets in the green that I¡¯ll pay for him to stay a week at his whorehouse of choice.¡± ¡°Aye, sir,¡± replied Mr. Smee. He ran down the stairs and below decks. A few moments later there was an audible shout of excitement and the sound of one of the long guns being moved into position and in place at the starboard side bow gun port. A few moments later a second long gun was in place on port side. With a shrill whistle the first gun, sticking out of the bow just one meter from the figurehead on the starboard side, discharged its deadly payload. The magically enhanced iron ball flew through the air. The [Gunner], Mr. Bridger, used his strong wind affinity to help guide the projectiles to their target at just under the speed of sound. There was a massive splash as the shot hit the water past their target. Almost as soon as the first weapon fired the helmsman could be seen listening to a small device mounted next to the helm and then shifting the ship several degrees starboard. A second shot rang out. The captain pulled out a small distance viewer and looked through it at the ship that they were pursuing. Through the viewer, the distance to the ship was calculated and a number appeared next to the ship in red. The number was slowly dropping as the pirate ship came closer and closer to its target. The firing pattern repeated itself twice more, with the gunner calling for a minor course correction to allow both guns the best angle before the [Gunner] struck true and the center lateen sail on the caravel began to tilt. A few moments later the sail was dragging in the water behind the smaller caravel as the crew worked furiously to cut it free from the rigging. The small ship¡¯s speed had dropped to a fraction of what it was, and its fate seemed sealed. With a murderous grin Captain Lucasi Macelatto turned to his first mate and said, ¡°Have the boarding team ready. Relay my regards to Mr. Bridger, that was a damn fine shot. Inquire as to whether he received an achievement for that. It¡¯s time to finish this.¡± Chapter 6.3 Sweet Dreams Lucas watched as the well-trained crew prepared to assault the small ship that was growing ever closer. It only took three or four minutes to close the distance that would have taken another two or three hours without that spectacular shot. As soon as the larger pirate ship came into range the crew tossed out grapples and tied them off. Unlike in the stories, none of the pirates swung from the rigging to cross the gap between ships. They waited in good order for their meal to come to them, obedient sea dogs who knew their business. The crew of the caravel was not so well disciplined. There was obvious panic and many of the crew fired their bows randomly towards the pirates while others ran around the ship attempting to cut it free. As the arrows came close to the pirate ship, they obviously slowed down and fell harmlessly in the water. A defense designed to slow down enemy large guns made short work of the flimsy arrows. The smaller ship¡¯s crew was inevitably unsuccessful in freeing it from the deadly embrace of the pirate ship. The enchanted ropes refused to cut, and the magical grapples bit deep into the wood of the hull. As the two ships came together, the pirate crew, led by Lucasi and his rapier, leapt down onto the deck of the caravel. Lucas watched as the pirate crew split into small five man teams and began destroying the unorganized, panicky crew of the caravel. There were small pockets of organized resistance. Lucas rode along with the pirate captain as he stepped towards a large man wielding an axe. The axe was almost a meter and a half long and the head was disproportionately large. The man wielding it stood head and shoulders over all of the other men on the crew. As soon as Captain Lucasi came within range of the large axe, the wicked blade seemed to fill his field of vision. Before Lucas even knew what had happened, they had dodged under the axe and stepped in and to the giant¡¯s left. A swift strike of the rapier and first blood belonged to Lucasi. The giant didn¡¯t seem to even notice that he had been struck, and the axe was quickly brought back towards Captain Lucasi¡¯s left side in an attempt to end the pirate quickly. Lucas focused on the feeling this time as Captain Lucasi used [Dodge] to avoid the deadly weapon and could sense that he was very close to understanding something significant about the skill. Lucas had access to all of his host¡¯s senses on these dream excursions with the exception of being able to see the status windows. The battle between Captain Lucasi and the giant axe wielding barbarian became a deadly trial of agility versus strength. Both crews maintained a wide space around the opponents and neither side interfered out of an unspoken rule. These might be the bitterest of enemies, but there were some traditions that no sailor would eschew. The [Bard] watched, trying to burn every feint and dodge into memory so that he could write a song that would last through the centuries and maybe get him beyond his current bottleneck. Every time his host would dodge out of the way or attack with his rapier Lucas would focus on the sensation. He would try to remember exactly how the captain would move and how he would tense. Slowly and gradually Lucas began to get a feel for the captain¡¯s flamboyant style of fighting and could just barely sense the captain¡¯s mana circling throughout his body when he would use his skills. The barbarian was growing noticeably slower and his rage radiated from him in almost palpable waves. ¡°Stand and fight like a man, you worthless coward!¡± he yelled to the pirate captain. Lucasi didn¡¯t respond, instead focusing on keeping his balance as he dodged yet another full strength swing of the large axe. Only, this time, the swing didn¡¯t continue past Lucasi. Instead, it seemed to stop mid-air immediately after Lucasi dodged. This was obviously a skill as the axe defied all the laws of physics. The axe then made a swift downward strike, far faster than it had any right to, towards the pirate¡¯s partially extended right leg. Lucasi was caught off balance as he was preparing to strike out at the barbarian again after the dodge. Lucas was focused on the flow of mana and the play of muscle on bone so he clearly felt when Lucasi used a powerful skill to leap the descending axe using just his left leg. It was like every ounce of energy in the pirate captain was focused and compressed in a specific pattern to allow the man to shoot into the air like his leg was a spring. The barbarian didn¡¯t have time to react to the sudden loss of his target and, instead of cleaving the infuriating swashbuckler¡¯s leg off, he drove his axe deep into the deck of the ship. Unable to free the axe, the barbarian lost one precious second. Unfortunately for him, that was all the time that Lucasi needed. The pirate struck, quick as a snake, and the rapier drove deep into the barbarian¡¯s neck. The man wasn¡¯t beheaded, in fact, the wound was barely any larger than any other wound the man had taken during the short but brutal fight. The strike was deadly none the less with its precise placement. As soon as the rapier cleared the barbarian¡¯s neck bright red blood squirted from the wound, shooting almost three meters away to hit another pirate combatant in the back. Red frothy blood could be seen with every exhalation as the inside of the man¡¯s trachea was exposed to air.. With every beat of the barbarian¡¯s already weakening heart, more and more of his lifeblood shot out. The man tried to cover the wound, but it was too late. With the fatal wound, all of the fight seemed to leave the defending crew. First one at a time then in small groups, the crew began to throw down their arms. After a few seconds of this a voice called out, ¡°Mercy! Mercy! We surrender!¡± The ranks of the defeated crew spread and the captain of the smaller ship stepped forward. ¡°I¡¯ll give my parole if you spare the rest of my crew, great captain,¡± said the small, bespectacled man that stepped forward. He had a tricorn hat on, an affectation of the Republic of Nicipe, and wore a thick coat that couldn¡¯t have been comfortably in the tropical weather. ¡°I¡¯ll accept your parole, captain, on the condition that you turn over the priest of thresh, any of his party, and willingly transfer ownership over any magically sealed documents or items currently aboard,¡± replied Lucasi. ¡°I can not willingly give men to you to be slaughtered like animals,¡± replied the smaller man.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more. ¡°If you don¡¯t cooperate fully, I¡¯ll slaughter every person on board and put your ship to the bottom of the see as an offering to the reef spirit,¡± said Lucasi. The captain of the caravel hung his head. ¡°Do as you will,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll not consign my crew to death for the priest. He¡¯s in the first mate¡¯s quarters. He cast some sort of spell on the door as soon as our mainmast was destroyed.¡± There was no fight left in the poor captain of the defeated caravel. A smuggler hunter who survived in these pirate infested waters due to his shallow draft and ability to escape into the reefs, he knew that his neck was headed for the noose as soon as his main sail came down. The last thing he could do for his men was ensure that they lived, even if only as slaves. ¡°Mr. Smee,¡± called out Captain Lucasi, ¡°take your breaker boys and get me a [High Priest] of Thresh.¡± There was no response to his words for a moment until one of the pirate crew stepped forward. ¡°Sorry, cap¡¯n. Mr. Smee took a belaying pin to the head. Weren¡¯t nothin left of his brains in his head.¡± ¡°Damn shame, that, Mr. Smee''s been with me for half a decade now and was one of the best damn navigators sailing these seas¡± replied Captain Lucasi, ¡°Second mate Gibson, would you like the position of first mate?¡± ¡°Aye, cap¡¯n,¡± said Gibson, ¡°Reckon I been with ya¡¯ this long, I ain¡¯t goin¡¯ nowhere.¡± ¡°Good man, you are officially promoted to [First Mate],¡± Lucasi said, ¡°stand the men a round of grog tonight and fire of the cannons in memory of our recently departed Mr. Smee. Three cheers for the newly promoted Mr. Smee!¡± The redheaded former second mate also formerly known as Mr. Gibson ducked his head in embarrassment for a second as the crew let off three loud huzzah¡¯s. ¡°Now, Mr. Smee, go get me my priest,¡± said Captain Lucasi with grim finality. ¡°Aye, aye , cap¡¯n,¡± replied the redheaded Mr. Smee. His large handlebar mustache seemed to take on a life of his own as he began yelling for specific members of the crew to step forward and assist with the extraction. Captain Lucasi stepped towards the defeated captain. ¡°Captain Rodgers, if you¡¯ll lead the way to your cabin, we can begin divesting you of your charts and letters of credit.¡± With the knowledge that the pirate captain knew who he was, Captain Rodgers knew that his fate was sealed. Now, all that he could do was hope to ingratiate himself enough with his captor to ensure the best outcome for his crew. The two were halfway through Captain Rodger¡¯s sea chest when there was a knock on the cabin door. ¡°Enter,¡± said Lucasi. In came Mr. Smee, two large, broad shouldered pirates that could have been twins, and a beaten and bloody priest in loose fitting blue robes. ¡°Ah, I¡¯ve been hunting you for quite some time, your excellency,¡± said Lucasi. ¡°You have no idea how long I¡¯ve wanted to make your acquaintance.¡± ¡°Abomination!¡± exclaimed the priest. ¡°The Church of Thresh knows what you are. You are anathema. You shall burn in the fires of Harvan¡¯s lowest hell for what you have done.¡± The priest attempted to stand and look down his nose at the men surrounding him, but his display of righteous indignation was somewhat diminished by the fact that he could not stand straight and his once pristine robes were torn and bloody. ¡°All of those that assist you with your abhorrent practices are likewise doomed to hell with you.¡± ¡°It amazes me how the churches were able to convince the majority of the population to fall in line by spouting nonsense about heaven and hell. The subjugation of demonologists and summoners no doubt helped, but there are significant reputable texts available for any to read that clarify the true purpose of both.¡± The priest¡¯s eyes squinted and he opened his mouth to retort, but he was cut off. ¡°[Silence],¡± stated Lucasi. A ring on his right hand glowed and no sound came from the mouth of the priest. ¡°It¡¯s time to end this part of my quest, six decades I¡¯ve chased you and I¡¯ll not get into a debate about the state of the human soul after death. Unfortunately for you, your soul will not be moving on to anything,¡± said Lucasi. He stepped forward and reached into a shoulder sheath. From it he pulled a wickedly curved dagger made of obsidian. There was no hilt, just leather wrapped around the base to make a handle. There was a discernible malicious presence radiating from the dagger once it was removed from the sheath. ¡°What makes a [High Priest] so special,¡± said Lucasi. As he stepped forward, shadows seemed to gather around his face and all that anybody in the room could see was the gleam of his teeth as he smiled. ¡°Is that, in order to channel the amount of power needed to affect the world with his miracles, the god has to place a piece of his divine spark into the [High Priest]. A piece of a god¡¯s soul is housed in that pathetic shell of flesh.¡± Lucasi took another step forward and was now standing so close to the priest that the priest could feel the warmth of the pirate¡¯s breath on his cheeks. Still nobody in the room could quite make out the pirate captain¡¯s face. His voice had become soft and the sinister presence was so powerful that there was a puddle on the ground below the priest¡¯s feet. Without another word, Lucasi plunged the curved blade into the priest¡¯s stomach. With a grunt of effort, he ripped the dulled upper aspect of the blade through the skin and muscle and out came the priest¡¯s entrails, followed shortly by the contents of his stomach. Bile, blood, and shit covered the floor, but [The Butcher] wasn¡¯t done. Through the diaphragm the dagger blade went. The priest¡¯s face was locked in a rictus of agony and his mouth was open. He was trying to scream. He was struggling to get even a whisper of sound out. But the spell that silenced him was still in effect, and no sound could be heard from the priest¡¯s mouth. The two brutes holding the priest upright never flinched, they had seen exactly why their captain was called [The Butcher], and they knew why they were there. Captain Rodgers was in the corner vomiting and praying to whichever god he worshipped. As the tip of the dagger pierced into the pleural space and through the ventricle of the priest¡¯s heart, there was a flash. With a sudden peal of thunder that deafened all that were in the cabin, Lucasi was thrown against the cabin wall. The two pirates holding the priest were thrown opposite and the priest himself exploded in a shower of gore. Every surface in the once pristine captain¡¯s cabin was covered in blood. Where the priest was previously standing was a pool of shit and piss. In Captain Lucasi¡¯s hand was the obsidian dagger. It now glowed with a bright red light, making the cabin appear surreal. The malevolence felt previously was there still, but it was subdued. It was almost like a killer hound that had been fed. It could still rend and tear, but there was no need to do so just yet. Lucasi stood and sheathed the wicked dagger. Without another word he stepped over to the captain who was curled in a ball in the corner. ¡°I believe we were just about to transfer those bank notes from the Bank of D¡¯Vrise. If you don¡¯t mind, I would like to finish up here and head back to the Free Isles,¡± he said. All trace of the vicious, bloodthirsty killer from before was gone and instead what the survivors of the explosion saw was the erudite captain who blithely offered to feed his [Bard] a generous breakfast before throwing him overboard. At his feet, Captain Rodgers puked again and passed out in his own vomit. The dream faded to black and Lucas was able to enter the land of true dreams for a brief respite from the horrors that he had just witnessed. Chapter 7.1: Its All Fun and Games Lucas awoke the next morning to the sight of system messages.
Congratulations!
You have learned the skill Swordsmanship [Un]
Through intense study and training you have gained an understanding of fighting with a sword. Swordsmanship is a multi-tier skill. Swordsmanship [Un] will increase your ability to learn sword related skills, increase your technical skill with a sword, and increase the potency of your skills and base statistics when wielding a sword in combat.
Swordsmanship [Un] Level 1: Progress 20%
(Experience rewards for all levels gained in skill deferred until full System Access is acquired)
Congratulations!
Dodge has leveled up.
Dodge Level 1> Level 3
Dodge Level 3: Progress 85%%
(Experience rewards for all levels gained in skill deferred until full System Access is acquired)
He looked closely at the messages before dismissing them. The swordsmanship skill was similar to the dagger skill he had gained last year when his father had started training him, with the only exception being that he somehow started on the uncommon tier with swordsmanship. He wasn¡¯t sure about the specifics of what skill did since he couldn¡¯t access his skill list until he got full system access, but if it was anything like dagger skill, he would be able to hit targets a little better and learning would be even faster than his already impressive speed for his skills level growth. Lucas let out a sad sigh, now he was getting skills from his dreams, his father wasn¡¯t going to be happy with this. Lucas hoped that he wasn¡¯t going to get punished. As far as he knew, there wasn¡¯t any way for him to control his dreams, but he¡¯d try if his father asked him to. The events of the dream remained fresh in his mind, the stark terror on the face of the poor priest, the smell of the man¡¯s pee as it was pooled on the floor. Honestly, it made him feel a little better about the bandit he had killed yesterday. At least his opponent had died quickly and painlessly, just like his father had taught him. He swore to himself that if he ever had his own pirate crew, he would just take all his victim¡¯s stuff and let the captured ships go. It was like his father and the beelings. If you take the whole hive, you don¡¯t get any honey next season, and a swarm of angry beelings will follow you home and try to kill you. Lucas got out of bed as quietly as possible. He knew that there was no true sneaking when his father was paying attention, but as long as he wasn¡¯t too loud his father would pretend to keep sleeping. He quickly washed his face in the bowl across the room and got dressed. Today was going to be a good day. He only got to come to the village once or twice a year, and he was going to make the most of it. The sun was up, but the dew was still wet on the grass when he made it out to the village well. It was Freeday in the village and the children his age would be out and about with no constraints on their time. Lucas thought to himself that the village kids really had it made. Here in the village, the kids who didn¡¯t work were free to roam and play on the last day of the week. Out on the fringes of the beast range, there was never a true Freeday like in the village. His mum let him sleep late on Freeday but that was it, he still had to do chores. In the village, Freeday was the market day. Merchants of all types worked Freeday and generally took a separate day of the week off, if at all. From the way his pa talked about the merchants, they would stay open all night and every day of the year if they thought they could make a profit from it. Lucas saw the big village well, with several large spigots and a big trough for excess water to spill into. During the summer, the village kids said that they were allowed to play in the well on especially hot days. Lucas thought that they were just pulling his leg, but he held out hope that he would be able to come to the village on one of the hot days of summer and see for himself. He thought it would be a great deal of fun to spray Mr. Snugglepuss with one of the spigots. Lucas wasn¡¯t the first kid to arrive at the well. Sitting on the edge of the big stone trough were two boys a couple of years older than Lucas. Lucas knew who they were from a distance and let out his second dejected sigh of the morning. Lucas¡¯ hopes for the day weren¡¯t looking good if the sun wasn¡¯t up and it was already a two sigh morning. Maybe this time things would go better. The two boys were Bert and Arnie. They were two of the bullies among the younglings in town and took orders from Alex, a nine year old who was already big enough to win in a fight against some grown men. The last two times that Lucas had been to town, those three had eventually joined in on the play and basically just started picking on one of the smaller kids. Lucas had tried to get the other kids to just leave the bigger bullies behind and go play somewhere else, but they wouldn¡¯t listen. Even the kid that was getting picked on chose to stay rather than leave the group. Lucas didn¡¯t understand it but had let them do what they wanted and went to play by himself.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. ¡°Look, Arnie, it¡¯s the hunter¡¯s brat. Say, I thought I smelled something funny,¡± said Bert. Lucas didn¡¯t respond to the two bullies. Instead, he moved to the other side of the fountain and began picking up some interesting looking stones from nearby. He didn¡¯t have to wait long before other children began to show up. They quickly picked a game of guards and rogues and began to scatter, the two unfortunate children picked as guards were stuck at the fountain counting to one hundred. The rogues would attempt to hide in the village from the guards, and if they were found and touched by the guards, they were sent to ¡°jail¡± at the fountain. There were a variety of complex rules on where one had to be touched and how to ¡°prison break¡± an opponent, but Lucas didn¡¯t have to worry about that. With his [Dodge] skill, his training from his father, and his natural agility nobody could touch him. On his one time as a guard, he found five of the ten rogues within a few minutes of playing. Rather than just evade the slower children and race around them all morning, Lucas decided to practice his sneaking. At some point during the morning, Lucas had resolved that the pirate had proven quite a point. If Lucas wanted a peaceful life, he would have to ensure he had the skills and strength necessary to ensure it. Otherwise what happened to the captain of that smaller ship might happen to him and his family. Each time the guard changed he would hide a little more openly. At first, he hid deep in the shadow under a porch. One of the village children quickly glanced under the porch and away without seeing him. As the morning progressed to afternoon, Lucas moved closer and closer to the open square where the fountain was. Finally, during the last match before lunch, Lucas hid next to a rain barrel on the corner of the square. He didn¡¯t cover himself with anything, there was no shadow to hide in, just a rain barrel on the corner of a building and Lucas crouched next to it. He waited for the two guards to finish their count and start looking for hidden rogues. This time it was Arnie and a smaller kid whose real name Lucas didn¡¯t know, but everybody called him Booger. Booger went the opposite direction, which made Lucas happy. There wasn¡¯t much chance of him getting ¡°nabbed¡± by Booger, but he really didn¡¯t want Booger wiping whatever was on his hands onto Lucas. As Arnie approached the corner of the rain barrel, Lucas focused on his [Stealth] skill. He couldn¡¯t access it but he could sense his mana working to try and assist him when he was focused on being, well, sneaky. Over the past several hours he had tried several different techniques, but the one that worked the best was to focus on the image of his surroundings and attempt to wipe himself from the image. He held it tightly in his head as Arnie approached the corner of the building. Arnie passed him by and Lucas almost lost his image from excitement when it worked. This was wonderful. He started imagining all the great things he and Mr. Snugglepuss could do with this skill, and all of the places he could visit. Suddenly, one of the villages real guards came around the corner three buildings down. He barely glanced over Lucas before getting a strange look on his face. Lucas could tell that the guard had gotten a notification, but he didn¡¯t know what for. The guard then proceeded to stare intently at Lucas and Lucas knew that he¡¯d been found. A notification a few seconds later confirmed Lucas¡¯ fears.
Stealth Failed!
Your attempt at stealth was seen through.
Due to your stealth being broken, no further bonus will be applied until you become hidden again. No further experience can be gained in the Stealth skill until you become hidden again.
Congratulations!
Stealth has leveled up.
Stealth Level 4 > Level 5
Stealth Level 5: Progress 18%
Stealth has gained additional options. (Experience rewards for all levels gained in skill deferred until full System Access is acquired)
That¡¯s not fair, thought Lucas. He barely even looked at me. How am I supposed to sneak past my dad if this guard didn¡¯t even have to try hard. Lucas quickly acknowledged his notifications without paying too much attention to them and ran to the fountain where he broke one of the captured rogues out of jail before dashing back into another alley. The confused guard just stared at him before moving on with his day. Lunch time quickly approached, and the growling stomachs of the children drew many of them home for a quick snack. Lucas quickly made his way back to the inn where Blake served him a heaping bowl of stew. He saw Helga walking briskly from the kitchen to the tables serving lunch to the many patrons of the inn. Now that he was watching for it, he could see the effect she had on the men and even women as she interacted with them. Their gazes seemed to lock on to her, the men tended to poke out their chests, the women smiled as if they were greeting their best friend. Lucas watched as she adroitly fended off the occasional wandering hand and kept passing out ale and stew to the hungry people in the village for the Freeday market or just passing through. As Lucas ate, he thought about his skills and his dreams. Throughout the morning he had made significant progress on his [Stealth] skill and had learned some interesting things about it. It leveled quicker when he was actively trying to engage the skill, rather than just be sneaky. In order for it to gain progress, he had to fool someone. If he was just sneaking, but nobody was tricked by the skill into overlooking him, he wouldn¡¯t gain any progress. He thought that it was easier to trick the kids in the village because they had no training and lower stats, since they didn¡¯t have system access. Lucas was working up the nerve to ask Helga for a bit of bread to take with him so he could stay out a little bit later when his dad sat down next to him at the table. ¡°So,¡± he said. ¡°what level is your [Stealth] up to?¡± Chapter 7.2: Its All Fun and Games Stan didn¡¯t say anything as he led Lucas back to their room. Lucas knew that he¡¯d have to talk to his father about his skills. He wasn¡¯t sure, but he didn¡¯t think people normally got new skills from dreaming. He was actually pretty sure that his mom would have told him about that. She spent at least fifteen minutes every week telling him how important it was to clean his teeth with a Gava Root before bed so she would definitely have mentioned dream skills. ¡°It¡¯s level five now,¡± said Lucas after the door was closed and his father sat on the edge of the bed. His resolve from earlier in the day began to wither under his father¡¯s glare until he remembered the sensation of blood on his face and the feel of entrails on his wrist. He would never let himself be in the position where someone could do that to him or his family. The bandits were part of it, but Lucas knew there was dangerous stuff out in the world that could take away everything. The horned bear was just an example of a creature that would have no problem taking his father away from him. Stan just stared at his son without speaking. His son had promised not to level most of his skills a year ago. The training that Stan gave his son was designed specifically to try to teach his son about life near a beast range without increasing skill levels. Some skills, like [Dagger Mastery] were unavoidable, but everybody had at least a few levels in those skills when they obtained their status. ¡°Why did you break your word, son?¡± Stan asked. Lucas waited a moment before answering. So much like an adult in many of his mannerisms, Stan sometimes forgot that his son was only six years old, well seven years old tomorrow. ¡°I had a dream, dad,¡± Lucas replied. ¡°Must a¡¯ been pretty scary to make you break a promise to me like that,¡± said Stan. ¡°It wasn¡¯t scary, dad. It wasn¡¯t like normal dreams,¡± said Lucas. ¡°Well, not like my normal dreams used to be. Since last year I¡¯ve been having strange dreams about the same people over and over again, but it¡¯s always like I¡¯m just watching something that¡¯s already happened. This time, it was about a pirate named Lucasi. I watched him capture a ship, fight a giant barbarian with an axe, and kill a priest.¡± ¡°Sounds like your ma¡¯s been telling you stories about the Pirate King. Don¡¯t mean you need to run out and put yourself in danger cuz you heard about his duel with the giant of the Myriad Sea,¡± Stan said. ¡°Mum never told me any stories about a pirate king, dad, you can ask her when we get home. But that¡¯s not all,¡± said Lucas. ¡°When I was watching the fight, I could feel everything that the pirate was doing. I could feel him using his skills, and when I woke up,¡± Lucas paused and leaned close to his father so that he wouldn¡¯t be overheard. ¡°I¡¯d learned [Swordsmanship], and [Dodge] had leveled up.¡± Stan just sat there, stunned by the news his son had given him. Nobody should be able to learn a skill in their sleep. Let alone a combat skill like [Swordsmanship]. ¡°So, what made you run out and level [Stealth]?¡± asked Stan. ¡°Dad, my skills aren¡¯t slowing down. I¡¯m learning new ones even faster than I was last year. Plus, if somebody finds out about me, they¡¯ll try to take me away from you. When I saw what the pirate did to that priest, I wanted to make sure that nobody could ever do that to me,¡± Lucas said all of this with a burst of breath. With a quick inhalation and not allowing time for Stan to interject, Lucas continued. ¡°Just like the bandits, if I didn¡¯t have that skill then you would be dead. I can¡¯t stop the skills, dad. They keep coming, and I think the dreams are part of it. This time, the pirate talked to me. Dad, he talked about the title,¡± the last part came from Lucas¡¯ mouth almost like a whimper. Stan could tell that his son was scared. Between the bandit attack and whatever he had dreamed about, he was on the verge of losing control. Stan didn¡¯t doubt for a second that his son was having these dreams. His son was rambunctious, precocious, and too smart for his own good, but he wasn¡¯t a liar. ¡°So, you went out and started leveling one of your skills, without talkin¡¯ to me, without tellin¡¯ me what had you so worried,¡± Stan stopped for a second, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath before continuing. ¡°Look, son, I know that you aren¡¯t gonna¡¯ stop gainin¡¯ skills any time soon. Me and your Ma¡¯ talked about this. Leveling your skills randomly on your own ain¡¯t gonna¡¯ keep you safe. We can¡¯t stop you from gettin¡¯ new skills, but we can make it so that you have a good excuse for some a¡¯ the things you can do. We can also try n¡¯ pick skills that are gonna give you the most advantage. We don¡¯t know if there¡¯s a limit to what you can learn, but I aim to make sure you have the best skills available. I ain¡¯t sayin¡¯ you¡¯re gonna get off free n¡¯ clear for what ya¡¯ did,¡± he continued when he saw his son¡¯s excitement at his words. ¡°You broke your promise. We¡¯re just gonna¡¯ move up our plan a lil¡¯ bit.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Stan stood up and headed towards the door. ¡°You stay here, I¡¯m gonna¡¯ go see somebody. I want you to think about what you did today. Think about what woulda¡¯ happened if anybody¡¯d seen you and put together that what you were doin¡¯ needed a skill. Think about what it would have felt like if I¡¯d a¡¯ had to kill poor Garth ¡®cause he realized the only way he coulda¡¯ pinged you with his [Perception] was if you had somethin¡¯ like stealth.¡± Lucas sat and stared dejectedly out the window for what seemed like hours but was in fact only about thirty minutes. Eventually, his father came back to their room with an older man. He was dressed in robes, instead of a shirt and pants like most people that Lucas saw on a daily basis. He was clean shaven with wispy white hair covering a head that was clearly losing the fight with time. ¡°Hello, Lucas,¡± he said after the door was closed. ¡°I¡¯m Randolph. I¡¯m a close friend of your father¡¯s and the town¡¯s [Alchemist]. It¡¯s a pleasure to finally meet you after so many years.¡± Lucas didn¡¯t know what to say to the man. He obviously knew who Lucas was and Lucas¡¯ father was comfortable with him. ¡°Hello, sir,¡± replied Lucas. ¡°It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you.¡± ¡°So, your father tells me that you¡¯ve decided to try to level your skills,¡± began Randolph. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, your father told me about your skills shortly after you told him. We were planning to wait another year or two before beginning your training, but that was mostly to refine the path that we wanted to take and gather a little more information on obscure skills that you might be able to learn. For the most part, we¡¯re ready to start now.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t understand,¡± said Lucas. Lucas didn¡¯t normally have any trouble understanding what was going on around him. Adults tended to forget just how much children heard, and Lucas was very good at inferring conclusions. ¡°He¡¯s sayin¡¯ that your gonna learn some skills. We¡¯ve been plannin¡¯ on having you start learnin¡¯ skills at some point, but we wanted to make sure you learned the right ones. I went to Randolph when you first started talkin¡¯ about the status windows. He¡¯s someone I trust with my life. I thought you might be sick and had him take a look at you. He¡¯s the one that came up with this idea and I want you to do anything that he says as if it was a command from me. Randolph here¡¯s the smartest man I ever met,¡± said Stan. ¡°You don¡¯t seem to be suffering from any side effects from learning skills,¡± continued Randolph. ¡°Other than a somewhat unusual maturity, your father has reported nothing out of the ordinary for the past three years. Your parents have been watching you very closely. As far as we can determine, there¡¯s absolutely nothing wrong with you. I actually wasn¡¯t able to find any legitimate reference to your condition outside of tall tales and a few verbal records from older alchemists that came from their grand-master¡¯s grand-masters.¡± Lucas didn¡¯t say anything right away. This is what he wanted. Maybe not exactly how he¡¯d pictured it, but he¡¯d still be learning skills and making sure he could protect his family. After a few moments he looked at Randolph and asked his first question of the meeting, ¡°What skills am I going to learn?¡± ¡°Haha!¡± exclaimed Randolph, ¡°that¡¯s the spirit. Your father and I have a list of skills that we think will give you a true advantage. It will also likely open up some of the more esoteric or restricted classes. Imagine, learning to heal with a touch like a [Priest]. The problem is, these skills are normally class restricted, considered the personal legacies of powerful houses with the requirements hidden from the public, or require an obscene amount of points in the system to unlock. In order to get you to the point where you can learn them, we need a solid foundation and a large number of common and uncommon skills to be leveled up to a specific point. ¡°First, is the required reading,¡± said Randolph. He made reached into mid air and pulled a small sack out of nothing before handing it to Stan. ¡°Can I learn how to do that?¡± asked Lucas. ¡°That is the skill [Inventory]. It¡¯s available to many second tier [Adventurer] classes and can be created by a [Space Mage] or a handful of magic classes with a focus on space or storage. It is one of the most versatile abilities in the known world and storage items that can replicate the [Inventory] skill with the most storage can cost more than the lifetime earnings of some wealthy merchants.¡± Lucas sighed in defeat while Randolph chuckled to himself and then continued, ¡°So, of course we are going to try to have you learn it. In order to learn that particular skill, we believe that you need to have a strong grasp of organization and spacial perception with a few other skills and talents. It will likely take the longest since most classes get it at a specific tier or after certain achievements. ¡°Now, as to you training your skills yourself. If you want to level up your [Stealth] in your free time, that is fine. I would discourage you experimenting with gaining new skills, since we don¡¯t currently know if there¡¯s a limit. I would actually recommend that you spend any free time that you have reading the material provided. Don¡¯t worry, young man. I know what your thinking, ¡®What if I read it all too quickly?¡¯. Well, worry not, there is at least three times that many books,¡± he said pointing at the bag containing a dozen large volumes, ¡°that we have selected already and many, many more that were removed because we weren¡¯t sure if you would have enough time to read them all before you gained access to the system.¡± Lucas was definitely not thinking about reading the books too quickly. All he could do was lament the fact that he had probably just lost his half a day to sleep in on Freedays. ¡°Now,¡± continued Randolph, ignoring the dejected look that still graced Lucas¡¯ face. ¡°tell me about the skills that you have already.¡± Interlude: Machinations Viscount Robert Trentwell sat in his office reading through reports. The office was sumptuously appointed. There was just the right amount of light coming through the southern window to allow each the rich furnishings to stand out without being too harsh on the eyes. The thick leather upholstery of the chairs was without blemish or crack. They sat in front of a desk that had to weigh four hundred pounds. Each of the feet on the desk and the chairs was expertly carved to match by one of the most well-regarded woodworkers in the capitol. It was his greatest, and last, work. The walls were adorned with tasteful trophies from past conquests. On the south wall, where one¡¯s eyes would be drawn by the large bay window looking out over the courtyard of the manor, was the banner from the wolf runner tribe of orcs. That was Viscount Trentwell¡¯s first conquest, long before moving up from a mere baronet to the exalted title of viscount. On the opposite wall, to the viscount¡¯s right was a display case containing a variety of weapons from the multitude of battlefields where he had engaged in that greatest test of skill and cunning. Viscount Trentwell paid no mind to the expensive crystal decanter of dwarvish whiskey that sat on his desk, untouched since his manservant had poured it. In front of the Viscount sat two piles of paper. He didn¡¯t have to look through each of these items himself, and in the grand scheme of things these items were relatively unimportant, but Viscount Trentwell liked to review reports randomly from his operations every day. Even the smallest lumbermill on the outskirts of his territory may be required to deliver a report directly to the viscount¡¯s office one day. This, he found, ensured that subordinates were less prone to slacking or cutting corners. Even though he had been doing so for nearly two decades, he still had to hang some fool who thought he could skim more than was appropriate off the top. It was difficult to find individuals who were intelligent in their dishonesty, but the viscount persevered. Viscount Trentwell¡¯s ruminations on the difficulty of acquiring good help were interrupted by a brief knock at his office door. The viscount looked at the small time-piece on the corner of his desk, a gift from an [Artificer] of some skill who wished to set up shop in his city. The unfortunate [Artificer] was denied, Viscount Trentwell held a mild dislike of all of the tinkering and gadgets that artificers produced. If they could be trusted to stick to mundane items like timepieces it would be fine, but they all seemed pathologically incapable of refraining from trying to design a shrink ray or electro-mana hand-held grenade launcher. The time-piece showed three hours past noon, which was the exact time for his appointment. ¡°Enter,¡± Viscount Trentwell stated in his crisp baritone. The door opened and a man who could be the polar opposite of the viscount entered his office. Where the viscount was lean and hungry, the visitor was morbidly obese. The viscount had a hawklike visage, a sharp nose and sweeping forehead that lead to a head shaved of every scrap of hair every morning. The man entering the office had a face that could only be described as that of a pig, with an upturned nose and florid cheeks. He was overdressed for a casual meeting during office hours, wearing ornate robes, a thick gold chain necklace holding a ruby amulet the size of a child¡¯s fist, and rings encircling each of his sausage like fingers. All that adorned Viscount Trentwell¡¯s body was the emblem of office around his neck and a signet ring on his left pinky finger. If the viscount had any misgivings about the visitor, he hid them behind a businesslike mask. ¡°Your excellency,¡± said the man with a deep bass voice,¡°I was honored to receive your summons.¡± ¡°Mr. Sucro, I¡¯m glad you could take the time to meet with me,¡± replied the viscount. ¡°Well, your man seemed to indicate that this was an opportunity that I¡¯d be a fool to pass up.¡± ¡°That is correct. Would you like a glass of something? I have an excellent dwarvish whiskey, some elven wine, brandy from the isles, or tea from the east.¡± The larger man didn¡¯t hesitate. He had dealt with the viscount for many years, though rarely directly. There was no doubt that the man had a large file prepared on him by that [Assassin] masquerading as a manservant. ¡°I would love some tea, if you have any of the jade white from three years ago still,¡± the guest said. ¡°Not to be rude, but I rarely imbibe in strong spirits.¡± ¡°As you wish,¡± the viscount replied. He then rang a bell on his desk and a few moments later his manservant entered carrying a tray with an ancient ceramic tea service. There were two small cups that each has a waxy sheen to them. In small box between the cups was a small wooden box that contained tea leaves worth far more than the jewelry on Mr. Sucro¡¯s chubby fingers. The manservant quickly and efficiently rinsed the tea leaves, and cups, and had the tea steeping in the pot within seconds. The viscount and his visitor sat and spoke about the weather and the recent rumors from court for the two minutes required for the tea to be ready. Already the aroma of the jade white leaves was spreading pleasantly throughout the room. The visitor could already feel the effects of the tea, making his thoughts clearer and sharper. For the next forty-eight hours after drinking this particular tea, he would gain experience three times as fast as normal. Already, he had mentally cleared his schedule for the next two days. If the whatever the viscount required would allow it, he was taking a portal to the nearest dungeon and hunting. Opportunities for him to gain experience were rare, and his class allowed him to gain experience just by being the leader of a group in combat far faster than it allowed him to gain experience from managing his many business holdings. As soon as the tea was prepared and the two men were sipping quietly on the flavorful concoction, the manservant exited the office. ¡°The reason I called you here today,¡± said Viscount Trentwell, ¡°was to extend to you an opportunity. I know that you have been working to become a member of the peerage. You currently have an excellent chance to have a baronet position in the next five years.¡± Mr. Sucro didn¡¯t say anything. The fact that his and Viscount Trentwell¡¯sestimated timeframefor his receiving the baronet rank was disturbing. It indicated that the viscount knew far more about Mr. Sucro¡¯s less legitimate dealings than Mr. Sucro was aware of. In order to buy some time, he added exactly two drops of beeling honey from the tray into his cup of white jade tea. Another reason for the ridiculous expense of the tea was that it seemed to magnify the effects of the beeling honey while simultaneously negating many of the addictive properties. Both items were so ridiculously expensive that it wasn¡¯t likely anybody but the Emperor of Xian, where the white jade came from initially, could afford it with any regularity. ¡°You have me at a bit of a disadvantage, your excellency,¡± said Mr. Sucro. ¡°It¡¯s true that I¡¯ve invested a great deal of time and effort into becoming a baronet. The right to vote in the house of lords, collect taxes, and form a military unit under the crown is not to be laughed at. I¡¯m curious what offer you have for me that could be related to those efforts.¡± The Viscount Trentwell didn¡¯t reply immediately but waited until Mr. Sucro had taken a sip of his tea. ¡°It¡¯s interesting that you should put that particular honey in your tea while we¡¯re having this conversation. Tell me, Mr. Sucro, what do you know of beeling honey?¡± ¡°I know that it¡¯s incredibly expensive, gives vigor and energy, and can become addictive. It¡¯s the primary ingredient in the most well-known Elixir of Youth,¡± replied Mr. Sucro. ¡°That is all correct, but not everything. Beelings are protected by crown law, so nobody is allowed to harvest them for parts, though the animals themselves are excellent material for several production classes. Currently, there are two places in the kingdom where beeling honey is collected. The hive dungeon near Norvos and the beast range on our eastern border. The two main collection points for the beast ranges are the city of Starke and a ¡®village¡¯¡± he said this last with obvious sarcasm, ¡°called Emmit¡¯s Lake. In order to purchase anything that comes through the beast ranges, one must go through the Norvos Merchant Guild, which grew to power by having a monopoly on beeling honey coming out of the dungeon in Norvos. When the beast range began producing the honey, they immediately set up outposts and received a writ to trade exclusively out of the city of Starke. Even the honey from Emmit¡¯s Lake goes through Starke to the north before heading back west to civilization.¡±Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. The viscount waited a moment before continuing, seemingly gathering his thoughts. ¡°I recently came into conflict with the Norvos Merchant Guild. They are powerful, but their monopoly on key resources has led them to believe that they can dictate terms to the nobility. That their money makes them just as important. I plan to teach them otherwise. This, Mr. Sucro, is where you come in.¡± Mention of the powerful guild didn¡¯t seem to bother the larger man. He quietly sipped on his tea and waited for the viscount to continue. He knew of the viscount¡¯s trouble with the merchant guild and honestly wasn¡¯t sure where he stood. The viscount was a frightening opponent on the battlefield but rarely engaged in political maneuverings. As far as Mr. Sucro was aware, the viscount just didn¡¯t have the right mindset to engage in the type of backstabbing required to engage in a war of attrition with a merchant guild that had its hands in nearly every moneymaking enterprise in the city of Norvos, legal or illegal. ¡°What, exactly, would you like me to do, your excellency. I¡¯ve been blessed to be successful in many of my ventures, but I don¡¯t have near the resources nor the inclination to engage in a trade war with a powerful merchant guild,¡± Mr. Sucro stated. ¡°I¡¯ll be blunt. You, Mr. Sucro, are the primary producer and supplier of fairy dust in the kingdom. You are a murderer, a liar, and a thief. You have a significant lack of morals, and each of your enemies eventually dies either from ¡®accident¡¯,¡± again the viscount emphasized the word with obvious sarcasm, ¡°or with a knife through the heart.¡± Mr. Sucro froze with the cup of tea halfway to his mouth. Just as he was reaching surreptitiously towards the amulet around his neck to make his escape, he felt the sharp tip of a weapon at the back of his neck and a small drop of blood roll down from where the blade had pierced the skin. ¡°Let¡¯s not do anything we¡¯ll regret, huh fatty?¡± whispered a voice in his ear. Mr. Sucro could tell that the man absolutely wanted him to do something that would allow the unknown dagger wielder to slide the weapon deep into his skull. Mr. Sucro tried to recall when someone else had entered the room, he had items that were supposed to reveal anybody hidden under magical invisibility and boosted his Perception against hidden individuals. He had done a thorough scan of the room when he entered and when the manservant, who was likely standing behind him with a dagger to his neck, had entered and left. ¡°Do not act rashly. I¡¯ve known about you since long before you became the head of your own shadow guild. You grew to power because I chose you. While you may be the embodiment of everything I hate, you bring a level of order to the chaos that is the criminal underworld. You also keep your word, part of your class restrictions if I am not mistaken. Twenty years ago, when you received your first commission to gather the ingredients for what would become your core product, I was there. Ten years ago, when your primary competition was arrested, drawn, and quartered, I was there. Last night, when you referred to me as that ¡®battle obsessed fop¡¯, I was there. I have given you everything that you have, and I honestly do not begrudge you your noble title. You have worked well for me these last twenty years, even if you did not know it, and I reward those who perform well,¡± Viscount Trentwell stopped for a moment. He then reached into a drawer on his desk and pulled out a vellum scroll, sealed with the signet of his house. ¡°This is for you, if you choose to continue working for me. If you choose not to, there will be no repercussions. But I think this will be suitable reward for the work you have done for me and will do for me in the future,¡± he said as he passed the scroll over to the corpulent criminal. Mr. Sucro hesitantly reached for the scroll, cognizant of the sharp tip of a knife mere inches away from taking his life. He used a fingernail to break the seal and unfurled the thick vellum. Emblazoned at the bottom of the page was the official, more stylized version of viscount¡¯s crest and seal. Mr. Sucro quickly glanced through the scroll and struggled to keep his emotions in check. He was holding a writ of nobility in his hand that bestowed onto him the newly created Barony of Sucro which included the village of Emmit¡¯s Lake and all lands from the easternmost bank of the Atrondul River to the west to the beast range to the east and for seventy-five kilometers north from the southernmost border of the Kingdom of Sterne. This was far, far more than the baronetcy that he was expecting to receive in five years. For the lifetime peerage of a baronet¡¯s rank, he had murdered or had murdered hundreds. He had destroyed families with the drug that he supplied to the kingdom, and spent a decade slowly working to wrap his strings around a count who could grant him the rank he so desired when the count¡¯s office received its next opportunity to promote one in five years. Now he stared at a writ that granted him his own barony, not just granted it, created one for him and his progeny in perpetuity, and he wondered just what he would have to do to earn it. ¡°How? It takes a mandate from the crown to approve the creation of landed peerage and I have heard nothing of this.¡± ¡°You may not be aware, but the Viscount of Trentwell owes fealty to the Marquis of theEasternMarches. Do you know who the Marquis of theEastern Marches is?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not certain, your excellency. I always thought that you answered to Count Horne,¡± replied Mr. Sucro. ¡°Most do, and in my capacity as Baron of Crowe I do report to the count. I owe my fealty to Archduke Ferdinand Leonid, who holds the title of Marquis of the Eastern Marches from his maternal grandfather. It took some effort to have him create a barony on the frontier with just a village instead of a true city, but this particular village has over a thousand residents and is home to a guild certified alchemist.¡± ¡°This is a great deal to process, your excellency. Even taking into account your relationship to the archduke smoothing the process, I¡¯m not certain about whether I can deliver to your expectations for such a grand appointment.¡± ¡°I assure you, you will be able to do exactly as I want. Your primary task will be to initiate on my behalf, and therefore the behalf of the archduke, the collection and shipping of all resources gathered in the beast range and shipped out of Emmit¡¯s Lake. You will work to build up the ¡®village¡¯ into a legitimate city. Emmit¡¯s lake has not paid taxes to the crown since its founding due to its status as a village and an obscure law that exempts taxes for frontier settlements until they reach a certain level of prosperity. There have been increasing talks of reduced trade restrictions with our southern neighbor, and if that comes to fruition as I expect it to, then you will be one of the richest barons in the kingdom. ¡°Your secondary task will be to block any and all attempts by the Norvos Merchant Guild to increase their presence in your barony and in the beast range. You will need to recruit and train a force to fight against any ¡®bandits¡¯ that may suddenly begin plaguing the road to Norvos. In addition to that, I want you to begin training [Ranger]s and [Hunter]s to solidify your hold on the beast range. I want nothing coming out of that beast range that doesn¡¯t pass through your city, and thus add to the coffers of both myself and the archduke,¡± the viscount finished his speech by taking a small sip of his tea. ¡°I¡¯m honored, your excellency. Will I have autonomy to act as I need to accomplish your goals?¡± asked Mr. Sucro. ¡°Within reason. You report to me, any stain to your honor is a stain on my honor. One of the reasons you were picked was due to your discretion. The number of people that are aware of your less upright activities can be counted on one hand,¡± the viscount paused for a second and his eyes shifted to the man standing behind Mr. Sucro. ¡°You¡¯ve seen the carrot, I believe it only fair to show you the stick. Should you fail me, should you betray my trust in you, then I will end you. Your son will be made a eunuch and your daughter will be made a whore for the army. Your wife will be quartered. Your mistress burned at the stake. Your two sons in Norvos will be strangled in their sleep. Your parents will be poisoned. All that you hold dear in this world will be taken from you, but you will be left alive. I will have you placed on display with your arms and legs removed. Your tongue will be cut from your head. Your eyes plucked out. You will be a constant reminder for all to see why it is never a good idea to betray me.¡± Mr. Sucro waited a moment. He knew that he had vastly underestimated the man in front of him. He also knew that the chances of him turning down this offer and not regretting it, of even living past the first utterance of the denial, were almost nonexistent. ¡°I¡¯m honored and will gladly accept your offer, your excellency,¡± he said with very little hesitation. ¡°Good. Your title will be officially bestowed upon you this Freeday with the sword ceremony. You have four days to prepare. I would strongly suggest spending the next two days in the dungeon to take advantage of this excellent tea,¡± he said as he took the final sip from his cup. ¡°Mr. El-Beyad will see you out, Baron Sucro.¡± Chapter 8.1: Until Someone Pokes Their Eye Out Lucas and his father left that afternoon. His father¡¯s cart was stacked above Lucas¡¯ head with goods again, and Lucas, rather than looking around at all of the new sights in the village, sat with his nose in a book of herb lore. The book was as thick as his father¡¯s wrist and had pages that were so thin that Lucas thought he¡¯d be able to see through them if he held them up to the light. In fact, he¡¯d tried to do just that as soon as he started reading, but his father had told him that he¡¯d get a whipping if he dropped the book or tore the pages. He covered as many pages in the book as he could on the way home. The book itself had a ridiculous amount of information on each plant. Each entry included a picture of the plant with a memory spell tied to it. Under each picture was a small glyph. When he touched the glyph, he entered a memory of someone, likely the person who wrote the book, holding a sample of the plant. There was no commentary, but he could feel the sharp edges of aspen grass and smell the cloying sweet aroma of an aloe plant¡¯s rich sap. Each entry included common names for the plant, the many uses, the climate that it required to grow, the mana density that each plant thrived and failed at, and much, much more. Lucas had never thought that he could be so tired just from reading, but, by the time he arrived home, all he wanted to do was just eat dinner and sleep. Unfortunately for him, his training to attempt to acquire an [Inventory] was starting this evening. As Lucas jumped down from the cart and started to trudge inside he felt his father¡¯s big, roughly callused hand come down on his shoulder. ¡°Not so fast, son,¡± said his father. ¡°You get to unload the cart.¡± He then pulled out a small stack of about five sheets of paper. ¡°This is the list of items in the cart. You should know where everything goes, if you have any questions, just ask your ma¡¯. I reckon that it should take you about three hours to unload the cart and have everything squared away. I want you to write down on your own sheet of paper a list of everything you unloaded, where you placed it, and how many of those items we had before unloading the cart.¡± Lucas just stared at his father for a moment, at a loss for words. ¡°But, dad,¡± he replied. ¡°There¡¯s no way I¡¯ll be able to unload all of this in time for supper.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t worry, son,¡± said his father with an evil smile. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure your ma saves you somethin¡¯. From now on, your job is to keep track of every item we own, both here and in the barn. You will count how much grain we feed the chickens, how much hay the donkey eats, how many barrels of water we go through in a week. Every single thing.¡± He then pulled out a ledger book before continuing. ¡°This is yours, I spect¡¯ you to keep it neat, and for it to be correct. Once you¡¯ve written everything down from today you¡¯re gonna¡¯ tally it up and start a ledge entry for it. Your ma¡¯s gonna¡¯ show you how to get started on it tomorrow and she¡¯s gonna¡¯ check it pretty regular. Don¡¯t worry, when you fill it up I¡¯ve got extra. Now, hop to or you won¡¯t get any sleep tonight, morning¡¯s comin¡¯ early.¡± Lucas didn¡¯t say anything, he just let out a dejected sigh, grabbed a sack from the top of the cart, and headed over to the cellar door. At least dad pulled the cart around back. He set the sack down and opened the cellar door. Just inside the door was a small glyph. It was crudely drawn, and Stan had to spend a week each year replacing it and the connected glyphs. With a touch of the activation glyph, the glyphs on the ceiling of the cellar lit up a soft yellow glow. He picked up his sack and headed down the creaky stairs into his family¡¯s cellar. With a grunt he placed the sack on the shelf next to three other similar sacks. He brought out his paperwork and quickly jotted down the information and headed back up to the cart. After an hour and a half of steady work, Lucas had the cart to the half way point. He climbed into the cart and reached for the next item. It was a large chest with one handle on either side. It was a glossy black and there was a large lock on the front. Lucas reached out and grabbed the handle on the right and strained. With effort, he was able to lift the right side of the chest off of the cart bed by a few inches. Lucas turned around and headed inside to find his father at the table. Laid out in front of him was one of his traps, separated into all of its component parts, on a large piece of cloth. ¡°You probably didn¡¯t finish unloadin¡¯ the cart. What do you need, son?¡± asked his father. ¡°There¡¯s a big chest that I need to move, but it¡¯s too heavy,¡± replied Lucas. ¡°Ah, I know the one. I reckon you would have some trouble liftin¡¯ it out of the cart,¡± said his father. Stan set down the piece of equipment that he was modifying and stood from the table. He walked out to the cart and grabbed the chest. With a grunt he lifted it from the cart and set it on the ground. ¡°You can set this in the barn to the right of the door. On your list you can mark it down as training materials,¡± said his father. Without another word, his father turned and went back into the house. Lucas was left standing behind the cart staring at the chest on the ground. With his third big sigh of the day, Lucas bent and grabbed one of the handles of the chest and began to drag it towards the barn. It took him almost twenty minutes to get it the 20 meters from the cart to the barn, and he was worn out by the time he finished. He sat on the chest for a few minutes trying to gather his energy back up before heading back to the cart. Laying on top of a crate containing various nails, screws, and fasteners was his traitor pet. Next time I have to move something like that I¡¯ll make him help. I¡¯m sure I can make a harness out of some rope, thought Lucas.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. He amused himself by imagining what it would be like to ride around on the large void cat like a steed for the next hour as he unloaded the remainder of the cart. When he was finished, he headed inside to find his father gone from the table, and the table cleaned off. He walked into the living room and saw his mother and father sitting on the couch. His father had his eyes closed and his mother was leaned against him reading a book. As he entered the room, his mother turned to look at him. She took in his bedraggled, sweat soaked state and smiled in amusement. ¡°Go wash up, I¡¯ll get your supper ready,¡± she said as she closed the book and stood up. Lucas didn¡¯t say anything, just headed towards the wash room. Inside was a large tub that they used about once a week to take a full bath, spigots to draw water from the cistern, and several basins and rags. Lucas filled a basin with cool water, stripped, and washed off. Once he¡¯d rinsed, he put on his night clothes and headed back to the kitchen. Sitting on the table was a large plate with roast venison, potatoes, greens, and a large chunk of bread. There was steam coming from the plate and the aroma was just as powerful as if it was just cooked minutes ago. Lucas didn¡¯t spend too much time appreciating the site of the food that had been kept fresh by his mother¡¯s hearth magic, instead he immediately set to devouring the plate of food as fast as possible. When he was finished, his mother laughed at him and gently steered him to his bed where Lucas immediately fell into a deep sleep before his head had even hit his pillow. His mother closed the door and headed back into the kitchen to clean up. She hated seeing her son so exhausted, even if it was cute how he could barely keep his eyes open, and knew that tonight was just the start, but she loved that he was finally getting the chance to grow into his potential. Lucas woke the next morning and started his new life of training and responsibility. First, he did his normal chores. He went out to the chicken coop and collected eggs, fed the chickens, goats, and the donkey. Next, he milked the goat and helped his mother in the garden. He helped his father with some small repairs in the barn before lunch. Then there was lunch and an afternoon with his mother helping him with his ledger and the inventory of the homestead¡¯s supplies. After supper, he read in his book of herb lore and attempted to answer prewritten questions by Randolph. Each night he would go to sleep exhausted, and each morning he began the cycle of training and learning over. This pattern repeated for the next three weeks. On Freeday, three weeks after returning from Emmit¡¯s Village, Lucas wasn¡¯t awoken by the sound of his mother¡¯s gentle tap on his door. He woke up to find the sun streaming in his window, already most of the way through the morning rise to its zenith. He quickly got up and got dressed. Afterwards, he went into the kitchen, where the smells of his mother cooking a giant breakfast made his mouth start watering. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you wake me up, mum?¡± he asked. ¡°You don¡¯t know what day it is, dear?¡± she replied with her own question. ¡°It¡¯s Freeday, but I thought that I needed to work on my skills.¡± ¡°True, but today is also your birthday. Happy Birthday, Lucas!¡± his mother said. She sat the spatula down and stepped over to give him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. ¡°Your father is out in the barn. When you finish breakfast, he has a surprise for you.¡± Lucas could hardly contain his excitement as he quickly consumed a breakfast of his favorite foods without even tasting it. Last year, his father had gotten him Mr. Snugglepuss for his birthday. The year before that he got his first magic item, a small pendant that would ward off insects and bugs and could be used to purify water. Lucas ran out of the house as soon as his plate was clean. ¡°Thanks mum!¡± he said as he rushed out the door. When he got to the barn, he saw his father setting up a straw dummy like the one he used for archery practice. Lucas made sure to make plenty of noise so that his father didn¡¯t think he was trying to sneak a look at his present. As Lucas entered, his father turned and motioned him over. His father reached out and placed a hand on Lucas¡¯ shoulder. ¡°With you starting your training this year instead of next year, I had to get this made in the village on short notice and it took a couple of weeks to be ready, but I think it¡¯s time.¡± He walked over to the heavy black chest that Lucas had set inside the door three weeks ago and opened it with a key from around his neck. Out of it he took a bundle wrapped in leather and secured the chest once more. Lucas¡¯ heart was racing as his father unrolled the bundle to expose a small recurve bow, a quiver of arrows, and a small sabre. The small slightly curved sword looked odd in Stan¡¯s large hands. ¡°Getting a sword in your size was difficult. You¡¯re going to grow pretty fast over the next few years, so we¡¯ll swap it out as needed, but this should be big enough for you to train that [Swordsmanship] skill for a year or two. I remembered your description of the sword you used in your dream to learn the skill, and this should suit you. If you take after your ma¡¯ in size like you do in pretty much everything else, you¡¯re gonna¡¯ want to rely on speed and skill over strength. The rapier is similar in size and is good for quick, light thrusts versus one opponent, but the Aldmunth Sabre is curved just enough to focus on slashing attacks as you move in and out of range while still allowing precise thrusts to vital areas. It¡¯s suited to fighting multiple opponents while engaging and disengaging frequently, which is how we¡¯re gonna¡¯ teach you to fight with your cat.¡± Stan reached out with the sabre and handed it to his son, who still hadn¡¯t spoken since seeing his items. ¡°Happy birthday, son.¡± Chapter 8.2: Until Someone Pokes Their Eye Out Lucas dove into his new archery training with gusto. He was already well developed for his age, and his coordination was superb. At the end of the first week of training, he was putting the last arrow into the straw target at 40 meters when he got the notification that he had been waiting for.
Congratulations!
You have learned the skill Archery
Through practice and training you have shown that you have the skills necessary strike a target consistently and skillfully. This skill increases your accuracy and damage with a bow.
Archery Level 1: Progress 0%
(Experience rewards for all levels gained in skill deferred until full System Access is acquired)
The skill started as the common version, but Lucas noticed an immediate increase in his ability to hit the dummy at 40 meters. He went from nine out of ten shots hitting the dummy to never missing out of an entire quiver. He also seemed to be able to group his shots together a little better now. It wasn¡¯t mastery of the bow by any means. Lucas still missed the about seventy percent of the time on a moving target and had a reasonable seventy percent success rate when rotating through multiple targets at different distances. Lucas wondered what all skills he could learn from his dreams. Since the most recent dream, Lucas hadn¡¯t had any more that were as powerful as the one where Lucasi had killed the priest. Instead, his dreams had been of sailing and he had managed to learn [Navigation] from watching the pirate do it so much. Since learning the skill, he always had a faint sense of which way was north and what time of day it was. Apparently, those two things were the building blocks to traveling great distances. There was also a star formation that sailors used, but the night sky at home was vastly different than the one Lucas saw in his dreams about the pirate. While his [Archery] was now progressing appropriately, his [Swordsmanship] was going far differently. The first day of sword training, his father had set him in front of his target dummy with his new sabre and had him go through some basic stances. ¡°With combat weapon skills, most teaching starts with basic sets of moves that¡¯ll teach your body to move the right way when it needs to without thinkin¡¯,¡± said Stan. ¡°Here in Sterne we call them combat forms, in my home country, we called them Katas. Wherever you are, they have the same basic principles. You¡¯re gonna¡¯ move through the basic forms slowly. You¡¯re not gonna¡¯ hit the dummy. If you move wrong, I¡¯m gonna¡¯ smack you with this stick,¡± Stan then pulled out a large wooden rod about a meter long and as thick as Stan¡¯s thumb. Lucas just stared at his father, who he knew didn¡¯t have a sense of humor, and wondered if [Swordsmanship] was worth learning. ¡°I¡¯m not a master swordsman, but I know the basics of fightin¡¯ with one of those pig stickers. Once you can move through all of the basic forms at full speed without making a mistake, I¡¯ll have you start trainin¡¯ with someone who knows a little more about the fancy stuff,¡± said his dad. That day Lucas went to bed bruised from his shoulders to the back of his thighs. He stopped counting after the twentieth time his father had interrupted the form with a strike to whichever leg was too far forward or elbow was sticking out. The only saving grace was that, as the day progressed, the strikes from his fathers stick had gotten farther and farther apart. By the time they ended for the day, Lucas was able to move through three or four forms without getting struck. By the end of the third week, his archery skill had increased to level three and he was finally moving through the forms at close to full speed. He hadn¡¯t gained a skill level in [Swordsmanship] but his father had told him that he was learning the forms faster than anybody he¡¯d seen before, including some famous swordsmen. I wonder where dad met famous swordsmen, Lucas wondered to himself as he was working his way through the fourth form, his father said it was called heron catches turtle in the capital but his father being the straightforward man that he was just called it ¡®stab ¡®em in the nuts¡¯. The trick to getting through all of the forms was focusing on his muscles in a way similar to how he learned the skill in the first place. He didn¡¯t actively think about the different movements required but instead attempted to recall the way the pirate captain moved as he fought and allowed the memory of those movements to infuse his body. To the other side, Mr. Snugglepuss was laying in the sun, watching his master struggle through the silly series of movements for the hundredth time that day. He was starting to grow jealous of the time that Lucas was spending not petting him. His fur was thick and luxurious his master had previously spent a great deal of time running his hands through it. Now, he just shot the straw man that the alpha had put together and got beat by the alpha for hours each day. Mr. Snugglepuss thought it would be much better if his master just stopped angering the alpha by shooting his straw man and would just pet him instead. As Lucas moved through the final form at full speed without being hit a single time, he got a surprising, and welcome, notification.
Congratulations!
Swordsmanship [Un] has leveled up.
Swordsmanship [Un] Level 1 > Level 2
Swordsmanship [Un] Level 2: Progress 0%
(Experience rewards for all levels gained in skill deferred until full System Access is acquired)
¡°Well, that happened a lot sooner than I thought it would,¡± said his dad. ¡°Does that mean I get to move on to the actual fighting?¡± asked Lucas. ¡°I reckon so. That¡¯ll be it for today. Go work through your questions for Randolph, and you¡¯ll start on the next step tomorrow for [Swordsmanship].¡± ¡°I¡¯m done with all of the questions for the herb lore book,¡± said Lucas. His father stopped and stared at Lucas in surprise. ¡°That¡¯s pretty good progress. Randolph figured it would take you three to six months to finish that one. It¡¯s the hardest to do. Well, you should be able to pick up the skill with a little work. For now, start the mana primer.¡± ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Lucas responded. He headed inside to bathe. Ever since he¡¯d started working so hard, his mom had insisted that he bathe twice a week instead of once. He loved soaking in the big tub, but really hated all the scrubbing his mom made him do. He wasn¡¯t sure why anyone would care if there was a little dirt behind his ears. The next morning during breakfast, all he could talk about was finally getting to practice real sword fighting. ¡°Do you think he¡¯s a mercenary?¡± asked Lucas to his obviously amused mother. ¡°I don¡¯t think your teacher is a mercenary,¡± she replied. Lucas took another bite of his porridge, not even lamenting the fact that he didn¡¯t get any honey this time. ¡°Ooh, maybe he¡¯s a master duelist who¡¯s on the run from the kingdom¡¯s [Sheriff] for killing a noble in a duel for his true love¡¯s honor.¡± ¡°Firstly, that isn¡¯t something that happens as often as in the stories. There¡¯s only been one duelist come through Emmit¡¯s Village for killing his opponent in a duel for his lover¡¯s honor in the past decade, and to be honest, her honor wasn¡¯t all that intact to begin with if the rumors are to be believed. Secondly, I think you need to spend more time reading Randolph¡¯s books and less time reading my romance novels.¡± Lucas finished his porridge without complaint and ran out of the house to start his chores. After chores were done, Lucas went to the barn to begin his [Archery] practice. Since gaining the skill, his practice was limited to an hour each day, but he was still seeing progress. After working his way through the targets and hitting most of them, he put up his bow and arrows and got ready for his sword practice. He began each practice by stretching and going through all of the forms as slow as he could. Sometimes this part was even harder than the full speed form work.Stolen story; please report. As he was moving through the last form, he saw his mother walk out of the house and head towards the barn. He finished as she walked up and looked up into her emerald eyes. She seemed to be amused by something this morning. ¡°Did the teacher that dad was talking about show up?¡± he asked. ¡°Oh, yes. Your teacher¡¯s here and ready to practice,¡± replied his mother. Without saying another word, his mother walked past him and into the barn. She reached into the pocket of her leggings and pulled out a key that was identical to his father¡¯s and unlocked the chest. Lucas stopped paying attention to what his mother was doing and turned around to look in the direction of the house, waiting to see what his teacher looked like. After a few moments Mr. Snugglepuss sauntered out of the back door and walked up to Lucas. Lucas ignored his pet and stared raptly at the back door again. When no head scratches were incoming, Mr. Snugglepuss flicked his tail in obvious annoyance and moved to a nearby bale of hay to lay in the sun. ¡°Mom, where¡¯s the¡­¡± Lucas began as he turned around to speak to his mother. His words were cut off as he saw that she was now wearing a thick leather vest and gloves with a face guard and holding a sword that was almost exactly like his. ¡°teacher.¡± He finished lamely. ¡°You¡¯re looking at her. Now, don¡¯t just dilly dally all day, go put on your vest, gloves, and visor and bring me your sword,¡± she said gently. Lucas didn¡¯t know how to respond. He knew his mother was skilled at hearth magic but he never expected that she knew even the slightest thing about swordsmanship, let alone had the [Swordsmanship] skill. ¡°Chop, chop, young man,¡± she said again. ¡°I have greens soaking in the sink and we only have about an hour to get you acquainted to the equipment and to actually using the sword against an opponent.¡± Lucas walked over to the chest, now secured, and picked up the equipment his mother had left on top of it. It took him a few minutes to get the gear on with his mother offering brief comments about how to properly care for the items. He was still a little overwhelmed. His mother hated when he roughhoused with Mr. Snugglepuss. She complained anytime Stan killed a rodent, stating that it could easily be placed in a trap and let go in the forest. She even let spiders and such go in the garden when she found them inside. He couldn¡¯t reconcile his mother with anything resembling a swordswoman. Once he was dressed, he stepped over to his mother held his sword out for her to inspect. She took two small items from a pouch at her side. It was a small piece of beast core, shaped and shaved down to the size of a gold piece, but in the shape of an octagon. It was a pale blue and had several small glyphs carved into it. ¡°This is a weapons training runestone,¡± she said. ¡°They¡¯re standardized in most kingdoms on our continent. They blunt the edge of a weapon and reduce the energy transferred from the weapon to anything that isn¡¯t another weapon with this rune. This means that we can strike with full force without any chance of c truly injuring our opponent. They¡¯re not perfect, which is why we have the visor for the eyes and gloves for the hands,¡± his mother continued. ¡°There are fancy names for them that you¡¯ll have to know if you ever duel in any of the larger cities, but they¡¯re really just a leather vest, gloves, and visor. Fingers are occasionally considered to be under the effect of the enchantment, that¡¯s why we have the gloves. The vest will actually let you feel the strikes that hit a vital area with a sharp stab of pain. If it¡¯s considered a killing blow, a glyph on the vest lights up. There¡¯s a few other features, but you don¡¯t need to really worry about them right now.¡± She slotted the runestone into both of their weapons and handed his sabre back to him. With a flourish, she stepped into the ready stance with knees bent, elbows in, chin slightly down, and shoulders turned to allow for a narrow profile. Lucas was uncertain about fighting against his mother, but seven years of following her commands without hesitation kicked in and he assumed his own stance. The next thing he knew, there was a saber striking his chest near his heart and a bright green glyph was lit up on his vest. He felt a sharp stab of pain as the sabre struck, but there were no lingering effects otherwise. ¡°Touch the pommel of your sabre to the glyph and it will reset, honey,¡± said his mother. She sounded just like she did at breakfast every morning or when she was giving him instructions with his lessons. There wasn¡¯t a hint in her voice to indicate that she had just struck what would have been a deadly blow against her only son. ¡°I know you¡¯re not used to moving at full speed. Your father didn¡¯t want to get you special equipment for your practice with the daggers because that was very basic and designed to teach you what you needed to stay alive in the case of an attack,¡± she said. ¡°But you have to get out of that mindset. This sabre isn¡¯t a toy. Any time you pull it in combat, you should be prepared to kill your opponent, and that¡¯s how I¡¯m going to train you. Your father¡¯s methods may be somewhat brutal for my tastes, but there is no denying they work. Your forms are excellent and you should progress fairly quickly. From ready I want you to use the fifth form in the Piccola Caduta stance to do what I just did,¡± she said. Lucas didn¡¯t respond, but just stood there looking at his mother. He understood most of the individual words that came from her mouth, but had no idea how to do what she said. Lucas¡¯ mother¡¯s eyes narrowed and she asked, ¡°Your father did teach you the names of all of these forms that he had you do, didn¡¯t he?¡± Some time later, after Lucas had been given a very brief lesson in the classic stances, he reset to the ready position. After a brief moment of hesitation, he stepped forward, bent his right knee and attempted to pierce his mother¡¯s vest with his smaller sabre. All of the force from his back leg was translated through the tip of the sabre, but never came within a foot of his mother¡¯s chest. Instead of a strike to the heart, he was pushed out to his left by his mother¡¯s blade. She moved slower this time, since the first full speed strike was to give a very specific lesson. There was a moment of hesitation before he was able to choose the form closest to what he needed and, with some fancy footwork and an awkward [Dodge] he stepped to his left while getting his own sword back to deflect her slash. For the next few minutes, he struggled to incorporate the previously passive forms into various attacks and defenses. His mother never sped up her attacks, working to keep her own skill level close to his own. After several passes at one another, he was finally struck again. ¡°That was good, baby,¡± his mother commented as they reset. ¡°Now, when you dodged at the beginning, that was a good example of synchronizing your skills. While we work, I want you to see if there¡¯s any other place where you can try to use skills in addition to your [Swordsmanship] to gain an advantage.¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± he replied. ¡°Also, did you notice that you used the dodge to go from the broken fifth form to the fourth stance in the second form. The forms are basic movements that try to cover most of the different ways the body can move. We¡¯re going to spar again at low speed, I want you to start the exact same way as you did last time, but this time I want you to clean up your transition after I slash. I¡¯m going to work you through this round and I want you respond the same way you did in the last one. Do you remember all of the forms you used in the last one?¡± she asked. Lucas thought hard about all of the movements he had performed in their brief spar and, while he could remember many of the movements, he just couldn¡¯t remember all of them. He shook his head and said, ¡°No, ma¡¯am, I don¡¯t think I do.¡± ¡°That¡¯s okay, baby,¡± said his mother, ¡°I remember them. We¡¯ll work through them slowly and I¡¯ll correct you as you go. From now on, I want you to try to remember every strike and stance that you use each day when we start. When you forget one, I¡¯ll¡­,¡± there was a pause while she tilted her head deep in thought, ¡°I guess I¡¯ll have to come up with a suitable punishment, that¡¯s always been your father¡¯s thing.¡± As they worked through the previous sequence in super slow motion, Lucas realized that he had been off balance for the majority of that fight. His feet were never positioned where they should have been, and his strikes suffered from it. With comments from his mother, he was able to move into better positions. They did it a third time, slightly faster, and on the fourth round near half speed, he noticed that he wasn¡¯t struggling to move from one position to the next. ¡°That¡¯s enough for today,¡± said his mother, ¡°Well start over tomorrow. Did you start your reading on mana?¡± ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡±: he replied. She nodded her head. ¡°Good, then I want you to go through your forms in low speed one more time and then try to meditate like it mentions in chapter three. If you are able to gain the skill before the week is out, I¡¯ll make honey cakes.¡± Lucas replied with an excited ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am.¡± And quickly moved to do as his mother bade him. His mother chuckled quietly to herself and went inside to finish getting the greens ready for supper. The next day, his mother allowed him to attack her from a different starting position and they worked through that sequence during their hour. The pattern repeated for the next five days and Lucas began to get better and better at moving between forms ad hoc during combat. He had received the meditation skill the day previously, increasing his recovery rates and ability to process information while doing so. As they worked through the sequence for the day at half-speed, Lucas began to focus not just on his muscles and positioning but also began to try to focus on the way his mana was moving through his body like when he was with Lucasi as he fought the barbarian. Lucas had found that channeling that feeling during combat helped him to make fewer mistakes and he was able to make the required connections easier. He concentrated more and more on how his mana moved through his muscles as he worked his way through the sequence on autopilot. As he was stepping inside his mother¡¯s guard, he suddenly received a message that he wasn¡¯t expecting. Since he hesitated to view the unexpected system message, he also suddenly received a blow to the neck that he wasn¡¯t in position to block.
Congratulations!
You have learned the skill Combat Focus [Un]
You were successful in your attempt to focus on your internal mana flow instead of your opponent while in combat. You may now meditate while moving. You may use this skill to narrow your focus and improve decision making for short durations.
Combat Focus Level 1: Progress 0%
(Experience rewards for all levels gained in skill deferred until full System Access is acquired)
Chapter 8.3: Until Someone Pokes Their Eye Out Lucas finished the day with his mother nursing a headache. While the training swords didn¡¯t do much in the way of damage, the fall when he reflexively tried to dodge out of the way of the sword after it had struck his neck had caused a large knot to the side of his head, his mother had made sure he was ok and then almost choked to death holding back her laughter at him and his rather snarky, in his opinion, system message.
Dodge Failed!
Your attempt to dodge an attack has resulted in a critical failure.
Your lack of attention on your opponent has resulted in you being struck by an attack. Due to your critical failure you have become dazed.
30% reduction applied to perception, dexterity, and wisdom for 5 minutes. (Potency and duration increased due to critical failure)
He went to bed still rather disgruntled, especially since [Combat Focus] didn¡¯t seem particularly useful, even if his mother was terribly excited about it. He had tried it briefly while reading and was able to slow things down quite a bit. His mother had been talking to him when he attempted to activate the skill and her words seemed to come out in slow motion. Unfortunately for Lucas, the skill required far more mana to use than he had access to and he had experienced [Mana Depletion] for the first time as well that evening. Worse than that was the fact that he was only able to use the skill for about four seconds, relatively, and it only slowed things down by about a third to a quarter. He felt that giving up all of his free mana and getting a headache in return was a poor trade for getting to experience three seconds as four seconds instead. The next morning, Lucas was woken up by his father, which generally meant a long day helping his father with something around the homestead that needed to be repaired or replaced. It wasn¡¯t late enough in the year to replace the cellar glyphs, the barn was fine, and there wasn¡¯t any damage to any of the fences or pens. He got up and dressed quickly and was ready with the false dawn giving a faint outline to the trees in the distance and little else. He made his way to the kitchen where his mother was sleepily stirring porridge. At least I¡¯m not the only one he woke up before the sun came up good, thought Lucas. He sat at the table and placed his forehead down on his arms, lulled to sleep by the comforting smells and sounds of his mother working to finish breakfast. After what seemed like only seconds, his mother gently shook him awake and set a bowl of steaming porridge with a hearty helping of beeling honey in it in front of Lucas. ¡°Son, now that you finished the herb lore book, we need to get you the skill,¡± said his father. ¡°So, today we¡¯re gonna¡¯ go into the outskirts of the beast range and you¡¯ll be huntin¡¯ down a list of plants that Randolph gave me. You should get the skill before you find ¡®em all. This is also a good opportunity for you to work on that cat,¡± his father continued. He cut a quick glance to the area in front of the oven where the animal in question had lay down as soon as Lucas¡¯ mother had finished preparing breakfast. ¡°He¡¯s a year old now n¡¯ that¡¯s the age where the big cats generally start learnin¡¯ to follow more complex commands. You¡¯ve done good teachin¡¯ him the basics, and he¡¯s probably a bit farther along than most just because of how close you two are. We just gotta¡¯ expand on what we¡¯ve got started¡± ¡°Why do you want me to get the herb lore skill, dad?¡± asked Lucas. He didn¡¯t normally question his father¡¯s orders, but he didn¡¯t want to miss a chance to get better with the sword just to learn a skill as boring as [Herb Lore]. ¡°Randolph calls it a foundational skill. It¡¯s like my own [Tracking] skill. It serves as the basis for a bunch of my other skills and is a core skill for my class. If I hadn¡¯t gotten the skill, I couldn¡¯t have moved from [Rogue] to [Hunter],¡± Stan said. He noticed that Lucas still seemed to be disappointed that he would be in the woods learning a different skill than his [Swordsmanship]. ¡°But, dad, what if I learn a bunch of skills that can¡¯t help me fight and can¡¯t learn new skills like my [Swordsmanship]?¡± Lucas asked. ¡°Look, son, I know you think that the best way to stay safe is to get stronger, I get that. But there¡¯s a lot of different ways you can be strong. Your ma can whip me up and down the yard with that little pig sticker she calls a sword, but she couldn¡¯t hit our barn with an arrow from the inside. She just ain¡¯t good with the bow. She also couldn¡¯t find me five meters into the woods over there if I didn¡¯t want her to. That don¡¯t mean she ain¡¯t strong, she¡¯s just strong in a different way. She could mix just a little bit of the wrong thing in my dinner and give me the runs for a week, and there¡¯s nothin¡¯ I could do about it, I rely on her for my meals. That¡¯s part of her strength. ¡°The [Herb Lore] skill and the other skills that Randolph plans for you are gonna¡¯ make you strong in a different way. We¡¯re teachin¡¯ you the sword so you can fight when you need to, but we¡¯re teaching you everything else so that you don¡¯t have to fight all the time. And when you do have to fight,¡± Stan finished with an evil grin. ¡°They won¡¯t expect you to shove that needle of yours right up their ass,¡± Stan paused for a moment then patted his son on the shoulder. ¡°Now, just cause we ain¡¯t goin¡¯ to fight don¡¯t mean we¡¯re not gonna¡¯ find trouble. Go get dressed and bring your weapons, including that bow.¡± Lucas got up from the table and hastily returned to his room. He got dressed quickly and called for Mr. Snugglepuss to follow him from the kitchen to the barn where he gathered his bow and sabre, this time without the training stone in it. His father was waiting for him on the front porch of the house with three packs. On Stan¡¯s back was the regular pack that he used on all of his trips. It had basic weight reduction, but no type of storage ability. It was made from dark brown leather from some lizard and was one of the tougher types of non-enchanted leather. In Stan¡¯s hands were two smaller and vastly different packs. On his left was a pack similar in style to Stan¡¯s own. It was made of a lighter brown leather, likely something basic like a cow or deer, but it was brand new and had dozens of smaller pockets around the outside. It could be strapped around the waste to keep it from bouncing and had places where a bow could be tied, unstrung, to the side.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°This is yours,¡± Stan said handing the smaller backpack to Lucas. ¡°It ain¡¯t enchanted, but it¡¯s well made. Several of the pouches are water tight, but if you pack it right, the whole thing can be submerged for a few minutes without any water gettin¡¯ in. It ought to last you a good long while and it¡¯ll work great for collectin¡¯ your herbs and such.¡± Stan waited until Lucas had the pack strapped securely to his back and tossed him the other pack. It was a harness, similar to what went on some hounds and other pets that Lucas had seen occasionally. Only, instead of having a leash so the pet owner could keep the animal steady, it had several buckles and rings on it. Attached to two sets of these buckles were a pair of bags that were eerily similar to saddle bags. Lucas couldn¡¯t help but grin as he recalled his fantasy of riding his void cat like a steed. All he needed was a saddle and for his cat to be about three times his current size. ¡°I reckon you know what this is. I¡¯ll leave it up to you to get your cat in it. You¡¯ll need to train him to wear it all the time. The bags can be removed and the harness can be used to layer bags or barding as necessary. You¡¯ll also need to take care of it and replace the leather as necessary,¡± said Stan. ¡°Come here, Mr. Snugglepuss,¡± said Lucas as he turned to his pet void cat. Mr. Snugglepuss attempted to turn and go back inside, immediately disliking the tone of his master¡¯s voice, but he was quickly grabbed around the neck and Lucas gave him a quick headbutt. ¡°You¡¯re gonna¡¯ have to wear this. Dad had it made special for you,¡± Lucas whispered to his future steed. With only a modicum of fighting, Mr. Snugglepuss was equipped with the harness and bags. There was a delay for Lucas to get his mother to cast her heal and for him to change shirts before they set out towards the beast range east of the house, but Lucas was okay with the trade. He was starting to outgrow that shirt anyway, and the faster he had Mr. Snugglepuss trained to wear the harness, the sooner he could figure out a way to put a saddle on his cat. The trip to the beast range was uneventful and took all of the morning. Their homestead was considered dangerously close to the beast range by most, but Lucas¡¯ grandparents weren¡¯t stupid. His grandfather was a powerful [Adventurer] class, though Lucas wasn¡¯t sure which one. There were a lot of ways that classes ranked up, and even a [Loremaster] would be hard pressed to remember all of the known [Adventurer] rank ups. It was the world¡¯s most common class for a reason. The trip could have gone slightly faster, but Lucas was tasked with finding herbs for his skill as soon as they exited their homestead. He was constantly having to move off the path and into the woods to try to find specific herbs that grew near their home. He had already found four common and one uncommon ranked herb. He felt it was incredibly lucky that there was a snap dragon shoot so close to their house. His herb lore book noted that the snapdragon let off a fragrance that attracted three species of bird who built their nests near the shoot. All three species¡¯ feathers were powerful crafting ingredients for a variety of professions, and the eggs from one type, the blue-crested tyrant manakin, were used in several alchemist potions. He was hoping to catch a glimpse of one of the birds and maybe climb to the nest and collect a couple of the eggs if his father would let him. Lucas never saw one of the birds he was hunting but continued to gather the odd herb. He noticed that once he found an herb, the information that he had memorized was a little bit clearer the next time. In addition, it became easier to find more of the same herb. The downside was that finding the plant did not equal collecting the plant. In nine cases out of ten, he felt that the plant wasn¡¯t in good enough condition to be used or sold. Just before noon Lucas¡¯ father had them step off of the path. Lucas followed his father for about fifteen minutes before they came to a small pond. There was a clear area near the pond with an old fire pit and several logs set up around the area to be used as tables or seating. The pond itself seemed fresh and clear, with a stream meandering off to the north. ¡°This is where I make camp when I¡¯m ranging on the edges of the beast range. We¡¯ll stay here for a couple of days while I scout the area to make sure nothin¡¯ new has moved in then we¡¯ll move to our main camp for the next couple of weeks. This spot is generally free of any beasts or dangerous plants. There used to be a wyvern that lived here back in my pa¡¯s day. Pa killed it as soon as he and ma settled in the area, but a wyvern¡¯s mark lasts a long time. It¡¯s unlikely that we¡¯ll be bothered while we¡¯re camping here, but I want you to stay within site of the pond at all times when we¡¯re in camp,¡± Stan said as he lowered his pack from his back. ¡°The water¡¯s good to drink, but I¡¯d collect from the stream up there,¡± he pointed to an area on the northwest side of the pond, ¡°about five meters after it starts there¡¯s some rocks with water moss on em. Shouldn¡¯t be nothin¡¯ in the pond to worry about, but don¡¯t go to close to it without me nearby,¡± Stan stopped talking and looked over at his son. ¡°Well, go ahead and start looking around here for any herbs that are on your list and I¡¯ll start settin¡¯ up camp.¡± ¡°Yes, sir,¡± replied Lucas. He quickly headed towards the spot that his father said had water moss. It was one of the common plants on his list and he would take the freebie. The moss had purifying qualities and when collected and prepared properly could be turned into a mesh that could be placed over bottles, jars, bowls, and other containers. Any water poured through the mesh was filtered and as clean as pure spring water. The moss ate the contaminants normally, but when it was processed into the mesh, it wasn¡¯t able to gather enough energy to keep it fresh perpetually. He quickly approached the stream and found the area with the water moss. The water moss made clear just how difficult Lucas¡¯ task was. Lucas was told exactly where the moss was located and still had trouble finding it. It looked like any other moss and settled on rocks with water moving over them, but it couldn¡¯t survive with a current that was too fast or when exposed to air. He had to work his way down the stream, bending to retrieve stones from water that was a meter deep in many places. Lucas knew just how deep the stream was because he slipped on a slick, non-water moss covered stone and received an impromptu bath. By the time he found a stone with the right moss on it, he was soaked through and regretting that he started with the stream. He quickly scraped some moss free from the stone, leaving enough to regrow, and placed the stone back into the stream. He then placed his mark on a nearby tree with the glyph for water so that he could find the spot again. Lucas stuffed his collected moss an quickly called for his cat to follow. ¡°Come on, Mr. Snugglepuss, lets go. We¡¯ve got a long day ahead of us.¡± With a gentle smack of his cats head as it tried to get it¡¯s teeth into the harness it was involuntarily sporting, he and his pet moved back towards the camp on the southwestern shore of the lake. He started at what he considered his maximum distance from the pond and decided to work his way around the pond to the stream while looking for his herbs and slowly circle in until he was at the shore. That night he went to bed with two pouches full of herbs that he¡¯d probably have to throw away, a more intimate knowledge of five new common herbs, a scratch from his wrist to elbow from a thorn bush, and a disgruntled cat who truly disliked the harness that his master was making it wear. ¡°This is a lot harder than I thought,¡± he said to his cat. Mr. Snugglepuss, being a cat, didn¡¯t respond, but he did show his current disdain for his master by turning and tucking its head under its paws instead of curling up with Lucas like it normally did. Lucas rubbed his cats head and closed his eyes. Tomorrow was going to be a rough day and Lucas hadn¡¯t even made it all the way around the pond one time yet. Chapter 8.4 Until Someone Pokes Their Eye Out By mid-afternoon on day three, Lucas had made it around the pond twice and was on the inner most of his grid style search for herbs. He wasn¡¯t able to practice his [Swordsmanship] with is mother like he had become accustomed to, but his father still had him work through the forms every morning and visualize a fight with various types of opponents. Lucas almost preferred this to getting beat daily by his mother. After his hour of sword practice, he ate breakfast, cleaned up the campsite and began his hunt for herbs near the pond. His father generally disappeared into the woods within an hour or two of Lucas beginning his search. He was moving along the shore of the pond with his void cat following along behind. Yesterday, he had started training Mr. Snugglepuss to move to specific locations and perform a task. Sometimes he was sent to a tree and told to sit, others he was told to just remain where he was until called. Each time he completed the task, Lucas would reward his pet with a piece of his favorite jerky. When he refused to complete a task, like retrieving an item that Lucas indicated and taking it back to camp instead of bringing it to Lucas, he received a swat on the nose and an admonition of ¡°bad cat¡±. Whether Mr. Snugglepuss even cared about the admonition was anybody''s guess. Most of the time he just curled into a ball and went to sleeep. As Lucas was working his way down along the shore, he noticed a small purple petal shaped like a star. His ability to spot herbs had become better over the past two days, and he was certain that he had glanced at this spot on the first day as he was walking to the stream. He slowly approached the shore. As he got closer, he confirmed that this was one of the rare plants on his list. The purple star lotus grew near fresh water, could be used in attribute potions, and was nearly impossible to find outside of high mana density areas like dungeons or beast ranges. The purple flower floated gently on top of the water at the edge of the shore, almost begging Lucas to pick it. Lucas got down on his hands and knees on the shore and reached for the tantalizing plant. He was extra careful as he slowly plucked the flower from the stem. He didn¡¯t want to damage the roots of the plant since it would possibly bloom again in one to two years. Just as he pulled the flower loose and placed it in one of the many pouches on his pack, he heard a low growl from his void cat. He turned his head to see what Mr. Snugglepuss was growling at only to be knocked sideways as his pet lunged forward. At the same time, a large pink tongue as thick as Lucas¡¯ arm shot forward from the water to strike where Lucas had been kneeling. The almost prehensile tongue latched on to his void cat and began to pull it towards the bulbous head of a giant frog that had emerged from the pond following the assault. The frog was huge, bigger than Mr. Snugglepuss, and had three oval eyes bulging from the slimy green flesh of its head. Mr. Snugglepuss immediately began clawing and biting at the appendage attached to its shoulder. Lucas recovered from his fall with grace born of his multiple practice sessions with his mother and immediately reached for the sword at his side, only to realize that he had left it in camp this morning to prevent it from catching on trees and roots as he scavenged for his herbs. Without really thinking about it, he grabbed the small dagger that he used to cut his mark into trees or take cuttings from plants and quickly jabbed it into the tongue attached to his pet. The dagger, with its small eight-inch blade, barely pierced the tongue of the gargantuan amphibian as it began to retract its struggling meal. The panicking void cat was making slightly better progress as it began to rake its hind legs along the tongue, gouging out sections of flesh with its razor-sharp claws. Lucas began to panic somewhat as he sawed at the tongue, making no progress, and decided to change targets. The only target he could see was the purple glowing eyes of the large frog. Lucas lunged at the head above the water, using one of the sword forms drilled into him by his mother and father since his training started. He focused every aspect of his being into a singular point, the middle third eye of the strange frog. His form was perfect, and he felt the mana in his body responding to his desperate need to save his only friend. As the small knife entered the strangely resilient eye, he felt his mana flowing through the tip and the resistance began to decrease. It wasn¡¯t like slicing through butter, but Lucas could feel the knife digging deep into the skull of his opponent. After what felt like hours, but was only a two or three seconds of real time and three or four seconds of modified time, the two-eyed amphibian released the suction like grip it had on the void cat and dived under the pond. This particular prey was too much for it, and it didn¡¯t want to risk losing any other organs. Lucas had enough time to realize that he was now waist deep in the pond before the blackness at the edge of his vision began to swiftly move inwards. The pounding headache and notifications let him know that he had burned through all of his mana by inadvertently using [Combat Focus] and some other skill by channeling his laughable mana pool into his knife. As consciousness fled, Lucas began to tip forward into the pond, and his last thought before striking the water was, Dad is definitely going to know I was in the pond. Before Lucas flame red head could dive under the water, a large weathered hand grabbed the pack strapped to his pack and gently lifted him up from the water. ¡°You did good, cat,¡± Stan said. ¡°Probably saved the boy¡¯s life. I¡¯m still not gonna¡¯ call you by that ridiculous name, though.¡± Stan then gave the cat a treat and took his son back to camp where he could get him dry. There was time enough for recriminations later, but the first order of business was to make sure his son was okay. Lucas woke up about two hours later. The sun was well past it¡¯s zenith and there were only a couple of hours of daylight left. He was surprisingly dry and warm. Mr. Snugglepuss was curled tight against his back and his father¡¯s blanket covered him.This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°Welcome back to the land of the living,¡± came the gruff voice of his father as soon as he opened his eyes. ¡°I reckon when I said don¡¯t go near the pond, what you must a¡¯ heard was ¡®go get eaten by a bloody big frog in the pond the second my back is turned¡¯. That¡¯s about the only damned way I can think of for you to be over there without asking me first.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, dad,¡± Lucas said. ¡°I didn¡¯t think there would be anything in the pond after what you said about the wyvern, and I saw a rare flower.¡± ¡°One day, son, your curiosity and your inability to sense danger are gonna¡¯ get you or someone else killed.¡± ¡°Sorry, dad,¡± Lucas said, afraid to even look at his father and see the disappointment in his eyes. ¡°Well, what¡¯s done is done. From now on, you gonna¡¯ listen when I tell you somethin¡¯s dangerous?¡± Stan waited to receive his sons nod yes before continuing. ¡°I saw you do somethin¡¯ with your dagger, reckon you picked up another skill. You get any notifications?¡± ¡°Yes, sir,¡± Lucas said. Scared that his father might decide he needed a whipping instead of just learning his lesson by almost getting eaten. He quickly focused on the notifications he received right after the fight with the man-eating frog.
Congratulations!
Combat Focus[Un] has leveled up.
Combat Focus[Un] Level 1 > Level 2
Combat Focus[Un] Level 2: Progress 1%
(Experience rewards for all levels gained in skill deferred until full System Access is acquired)
Congratulations!
You have learned the skill Keen Edge
By imbuing your mana into a weapon with the intent to increase damage, you have unlocked the skill Keen Edge. This skill increases the penetrating power and damage of your weapon.
Keen Edge Level 1: Progress 0%
(Experience rewards for all levels gained in skill deferred until full System Access is acquired)
¡°Well, that¡¯s somethin¡¯ right there. You¡¯ve barely had combat focus enough to use it. You been practicin¡¯ it non-stop since you got it?¡± ¡°No,¡± said Lucas louder than he intended, ¡°I hate that skill. Other than the few times mom made me use it, I haven¡¯t used it at all until today. I didn¡¯t even try to use it. Now I have this stupid headache.¡± Stan just stared at his son for a minute before slowly replying. ¡°Son, you are one of the smartest kids I¡¯ve ever met. Other than your tendency to get in trouble, you couldn¡¯t be more well behaved or mature. Sometimes, that makes me forget that you¡¯re just seven years old.¡± Stan came and sat down in on the ground next to where his son was lying. ¡°I saw how excited your ma was when you got that skill. Think back, how often have you seen your ma get that excited about something?¡± Stan stopped and stared at his son, waiting for a response. ¡°I don¡¯t remember,¡± Lucas muttered. ¡°That¡¯s right. The last time she got that excited was when you spelled your name at the age of two. Normal two-year olds can¡¯t spell their names. Hell, some a¡¯ the folks in the village can¡¯t spell much more than their names or they leave their mark. That should give you a reference on just how impressive it is that you gained that skill while sparring with your mother. That don¡¯t happen, son. ¡°Your ma is one of the best swordsmen that you¡¯ll ever meet. She has several levels of rare [Swordsmanship]. The man who taught her was a grand master with an advanced class who created his own sword style. He spent three decades perfecting one specific strike to the point that nobody with less than fifty perception could even see it. That feat earned him [Combat Focus] out of real combat. The only other way to learn it is to put your life on the line, day in and day out. Warriors live and breath combat for years sometimes in order to gain that particular skill. Men and women die for their skills, son. Yet, you sit and whine about something that just saved your life because it gives you a little headache.¡± Lucas didn¡¯t reply. He just closed his eyes as tears slowly trickled out. His dad never raised his voice, but he could tell that the disappointment his father felt was profound. ¡°There¡¯s a carcass on the other side of camp,¡± Stan pointed to where his kill from earlier lay. ¡°I want you to skin it. I want you to do so with [Keen Edge] on your dagger. If I see you make a slice without the skill applied to the dagger, you¡¯ll spend an hour in horse stance while balancing a bucket on your head and getting hit with a stick.¡± He paused for a moment before continuing with his instructions. ¡°Tomorrow, you¡¯ll wake up and use [Combat Focus] as soon as you wake up. When your mana comes back, you¡¯re gonna¡¯ use the skill again. Every day, as soon as you have the mana to use it, you¡¯re gonna¡¯ use the skill. We weren¡¯t planning on mana training for a couple more weeks, but this¡¯ll work. Consider the headache your punishment for almost gettin¡¯ yourself killed today.¡± Lucas slowly got up out of the bedroll and wiped his tears away. Without another word, he grabbed his bag headed to the carcass of some large rodent and pulled his dagger from its sheath while pulling something from one of his bag. Once he had the animal hanging from a tree, he ignored the massive headache and focused on his new skill. This was the first time he¡¯d received an active skill, but he remembered the feeling as the mana had moved through his body and into the blade. With a grunt of effort, he forced the trickle of mana in his body into the blade in his hand. There was a slight glow, and the blade slipped easily into the flesh of the carcass. Almost as soon as he¡¯d started, he lost his focus on the skill and the blade became dull and lifeless again. With a sigh, he concentrated on his mana and reactivated his skill. Another slice, another pause, another activation. He repeated the process over and over. The skill didn¡¯t take too much mana to activate, and he soon fell into a rhythm. Eyes red from his previous bout of crying, Lucas worked at skinning the small animal in front of him. Silently, he resolved to never take his skills for granted again. Had anybody been looking closely, they would have seen the tears in his eyes come back, not from sadness or even any sort of empathy for the animal in front of him. These were tears of pain, caused by the small thorn that Lucas held clasped tightly in his left hand. Every skill could be important, even something as difficult to level up as pain resistance 9.1: Gobs of Fun Stan and Lucas broke camp the next day. Lucas had completely worked through the area surrounding the pond. Stan had debated going back after Lucas'' incident in the pond but decided to follow through with his initial plans. He felt that Lucas¡¯ curiosity was sufficiently cowed that he didn¡¯t need to worry about his son disregarding his instructions again. As they headed west, following game trails and ridges for the most part, Lucas continued to scour the ground for herbs from his list. As he worked, he remained abnormally solemn. The near-death experience and being chewed out by his father had had quite an impact on him. The constant headache accompanied by draining his mana pool completely as soon as he could use his [Combat Focus] ability may have had something to do with it. His red hair was matted to his head and his blue eyes, normally shining with an inner light of playful curiosity, were somewhat dimmer. Mr. Snugglepuss wasn¡¯t doing any better. Multiple days in the harness with it only coming off at night for Lucas to clean and oil it had rubbed certain spots raw. That morning, as he was putting the harness on his cat, his father had given Lucas an ointment to apply. His pet didn¡¯t fight him as much when he placed the harness back on with some padding in the areas where the soothing ointment had gone. They worked their way slowly through the forest, making decent time. The plan was to stay out for three weeks. Randolph felt that this would allow Lucas to encounter enough different varieties of herbs that he would be guaranteed the [Herb Lore] skill. Lucas ate jerky and sipped from his canteen for lunch, but they never stopped moving until the sun was riding low in the western sky. There was still some daylight left, but it was becoming gloomy under the dense canopy. Lucas was having more and more trouble finding plants to ¡°attempt¡± to gather. His multiple pockets were remarkably bare for the amount of herbs he had gathered. Most of what he had picked up in their stay so far had not been viable, so Lucas had been forced to dispose of it. Some of it was basic herbs or vegetables that could be cooked, and Stan had relieved him of those each night when he prepared supper. Lucas was on the verge of asking his father when they were going to stop when he noticed that his father had stopped moving forward. Stan was looking at a tree in the path with an odd tilt to his head. He then took two steps back, grabbed Lucas by the shoulder, and began moving back down the trail at a brisk pace. Lucas was scared but didn¡¯t say anything. After twenty minutes, Stan had to pick his son up and carry him the rest of the way. They diverged from the path they had made in the forest and came out near a stream, possibly the same one that had left the pond where they were at. ¡°Take care of your cat,¡± said Stan as he set his son down. ¡°I¡¯ll start putting together dinner. No tents tonight, just bedrolls. We won¡¯t be staying here any longer than we have to.¡± ¡°What happened, dad?¡± asked Lucas. ¡°Did you see that tree in the middle of the game trail?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± replied Lucas. ¡°How many trees have been dead center in the middle of any of the game trails that we¡¯ve followed?¡± his dad inquired. Lucas thought for a second and then replied, ¡°That was the only one.¡± ¡°This is a beast range, son,¡± his father stated. ¡°Anything out of the ordinary is dangerous. Animals just don¡¯t run into trees. If a game trail moves to a spot and suddenly stops, something made the animal stop. The tree was a normal oak. Nothin¡¯ abnormal about it. If I had to guess, I¡¯d say there¡¯s a bloodvine in there somewhere. You know what that is?¡± Lucas didn¡¯t have to think hard before nodding his head, it was one of the plants that was in his book. The bloodvine lived on another plant, generally a tree, and blended in with the foliage. It wasn¡¯t sapient but let off a scent that reduced perception and attracted animals. Once something was close enough, it latched on with suckers like a leach and began to drain the victim dry while delivering a toxin that numbed and sedated the animal. It was rare for any creature to escape a bloodvine. ¡°This should be far enough,¡± Stan said. ¡°You¡¯re gonna¡¯ have to keep your pet in the harness tonight and keep him leashed to you. I¡¯ll have you tied to me, just in case.¡± Without another word he turned and began to lay a fire. Lucas sat in a fairly open spot and removed Mr. Snugglepuss¡¯ harness and began applying the ointment. The areas that the harness had rubbed raw were already healing and the hair under the padding actually looked healthier than the other areas. With a judicious application of the spicy smelling ointment, he finished taking care of his pet and quickly got him back in the harness before he could escape. Lucas then fished a piece of rope out of his bag and tied it through one of the rings of the harness and around his own waist. ¡°Can¡¯t risk you getting eaten by a bloodvine, Mr. Snugglepuss,¡± he said to his cat with a quiet voice. He then began setting up his bedroll. Almost by reflex, he noticed that his mana was back to full and he activated his [Combat Focus]. The effect since reaching level two was far more pronounced. The world seemed to immediately drop into slow motion for a full four seconds. Sounds became lower pitched and seemed to be from farther away. Even the rustling of the leaves in the forest took on a darker, more ominous tone. Luckily, the effect only lasted for a brief moment before Lucas¡¯ mana pool was empty once again. The persistent headache had had the additional effect of leveling his pain resistance one more time, which had saved Lucas from having to do it manually. He could still feel the headache, but the pain was dulled and he was able to focus on finding his plants a little bit better. They made it through the night without incident, but Lucas was unable to sleep peacefully knowing that his friend or his dad might get up in the middle of the night and wander into the deathly embrace of the predatory plant. The chances of that happening were one in a million, but Lucas didn¡¯t know that. The next day, Stan led Lucas around the area that was claimed by the bloodvine and the continued southeast into the beast range. By midafternoon Lucas had identified half a dozen new plants and summarily destroyed five of them attempting to gather them. The forest was denser this deep into the beast range, with mana levels rising as the pair progressed farther into the explored zone. ¡°Dad,¡± said Lucas as they moved towards a ridge that Stan had pointed out as their main camp for the remainder of the trip. They were only a couple of hours away, and Lucas hadn¡¯t seen any plants that he could gather for a few minutes now. ¡°What do you need, son?¡± his father asked. ¡°How deep are we going into the beast range? Will we see any big monsters?¡± ¡°Not deep at all, son,¡± Stan said with a laugh. ¡°It takes two weeks of hard traveling to get to the edge of the deep forest. We¡¯re about the middle of what people like to call the safe zone. Beasts don¡¯t get too big here and there¡¯s rarely anything in the second tier, let alone a third tier monster like a wyvern. That one that your grandpa killed was old and he¡¯d been driven from the deep range. There¡¯s a river that flows down from deep in the range, brings mana rich water out of the range and mixes with the Atrondul down south of the border.¡± As Stan talked, he continued to walk along the trail and scan for any threats. His [Perception] was high enough that there wasn¡¯t much that could catch him by surprise in the safe zone. ¡°So, do you hunt in the deep range?¡± his son asked. ¡°No, that¡¯s what got your grandpa.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± asked Lucas. It was rare for his father to talk about his own parents at any length. He heard the occasional story, like with the wyvern, but not much more. ¡°He felt like there wasn¡¯t much of a challenge left in the safe zone and decided that, with ma dead, he didn¡¯t have any reason to stay.¡± Stan replied. ¡°Left me the homestead and went into the deep range ¡®bout fifteen years ago. I ain¡¯t seen him since, he¡¯s probably dead n¡¯ gone now.¡± There was sadness in his voice, but it was old. Stan had long since finished grieving his father and knew that, if he somehow outlived his own wife, he¡¯d probably do the same one day. Every time he went to the edge of the deep range he felt the call of the unknown. Only his duty to his family and his love for his wife kept him from moving deep into the unexplored wilderness to see just what was on the other side of that boundary.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. They didn¡¯t talk much more as they progressed and soon Lucas was introduced to a wonderful sight. The pond that was their first camp was pretty, but somewhat dull. After the initial excitement of being in the beast range wore off, it was just like any other pond. Albeit with man eating, three eyed frogs. In front of Lucas was a beautiful site. The small tributary of the river that his father talked about flowed over a rocky ridge, making a small waterfall of about three meters in height. Just enough to churn the water on the rocks below and keep the water clean and fresh. The little river was only fifteen or twenty meters across, but the water was relatively clear and Lucas could see the river bed on the other side. On the west side of the bank that Lucas and his father stood on and far enough from the falls to not have to worry about excess moisture was a small recess in the rocky ridge. It wasn¡¯t a deep cave, but it was recessed enough to keep the worst of the wind and weather out and there were some small metal rings embedded just inside the roof and around the entrance.
Achievement Unlocked!
Explorer
You have discovered Grant¡¯s Grotto. This is the favorite spot of famous adventurer Grant ¡°Firefist¡± Hunter, who once fought a mighty battle at the base of the waterfall. You are the third human to visit this location of note in the Western Continent Beast Range. You will receive bonus experience for visiting this location.
Current progress to Explorer title: 1/5 locations visited
(Experience rewards for achievements deferred until full System Access is acquired)
Lucas didn¡¯t say anything to his father, he just stared around camp in wonder at the fact that he was only the third person to ever come to this spot. It must have been a pretty important spot to his grandfather for the system to name it and create an achievement for finding it. ¡°Go ahead and set your stuff down and go gather some firewood back along the trail. If you can¡¯t hear the falls, your too far away. I¡¯m gonna¡¯ to set up camp,¡± said Stan, knowing what his son was likely seeing and not saying anything about it. ¡°This is where we¡¯ll be for the next couple of weeks.¡± ¡°But what if there¡¯s another bloodvine?¡± Lucas asked his father. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, son, those are rare and I scanned enough of the trail to know that there¡¯s not much danger back the way we came,¡± replied Stan. Lucas did as his father asked and moved back along the trail. He had Mr. Snugglepuss move out to a preset distance and follow. Eventually, he would train the cat to range in front and to both sides, looking for signs and acting as a scout with his greater [Perception] and natural woodcraft. Once he reached a reasonable distance he started scavenging for downed branches and wood of the appropriate size. Ideally, he¡¯d find a downed tree that was in decent condition that they could trim some branches from to get their firewood for the stay in easy to carry segments. It took about an hour to gather the firewood needed, making multiple trips with small bundles carried by himself and his pet¡¯s handy harness. By the time they returned to camp with the last load, Stan had managed to secure one of the tents to the recess by way of the rings. This made something like a lean-to against the front of the cave entrance. A quick dinner of dried meat in a stew of wild onions and tubers was followed by their first night in his grandfather¡¯s camp. Over the next week, Stan and Lucas searched for herbs on both sides of the river within a half day¡¯s walk of the camp. They were working their way along the east bank as the sun was working its way up to the middle of the sky when Lucas noticed his father coming out of the brush. Lucas finished placing the herb, a successful harvest, into one of the packs that his void cat carried attached to his harness. When he turned back around to ask his father if they were stopping for lunch he noticed the blood splashed on his father¡¯s leather vambrace. He waited until his father was closer instead of yelling out as he had planned. When Stan got to Lucas he pulled something from inside his vest and knelt down next to Lucas. ¡°There¡¯s gobs near here, small splinter clan if I had to guess. See this?¡± he asked as he pulled displayed the torn, pointed ear he held in his hand. ¡°Only one piercing on the leader of a squad. Normally they¡¯ll have three or four piercings before they can get enough other gobs to follow ¡®em. Guessin¡¯ their clan had a hard spell this winter and kicked ¡®em out,¡± Stan paused for a moment to put the ear away and take a drink from his canteen. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, son, we can¡¯t leave ¡®em to multiply or it¡¯ll be too late. It¡¯s spring and they are in an area without any big predators. Give ¡®em two months and there¡¯ll be close to a thousand of the damn things runnin¡¯ around. That¡¯ll draw bigger beasts to the area to eat the gobs, n¡¯ lead to an increase in beasts and monsters in this area. The result would be a horde that would eventually spill out of the beast range. I¡¯ll get you home n¡¯ come back to clear ¡®em out.¡± Lucas just stared at his dad for a minute before answering. ¡°Dad, if you can clear them out yourself, can¡¯t you do it while I¡¯m in camp? Then I can finish getting my skill and we can go home.¡± ¡°Too risky. I¡¯d have to leave you back in camp alone and it¡¯ll take me a couple of days to scout ¡®em out properly. I can¡¯t leave you alone for two days, there wouldn¡¯t be anything left of the forest.¡± ¡°Can I just come with you?¡± Lucas asked. ¡°No, it¡¯s too dangerous. You have skills, but not the ones you¡¯d need to keep up with me in the dense brush away from the river and stay hidden from gobs and other things. Now, that¡¯s enough. No lunch today, we need to get back to camp. We¡¯ll pack up, stay the night, and had back to the pond in the morning,¡± Stan said with finality. They began to make their way back upriver to the crossing. It took a couple of hours, but they eventually arrived at the best place to cross the small but dangerous river. Spanning from one bank to the other was the remainder of a massive tree. Stan had told Lucas about how his father had found the tree almost exactly the same as today and had purchased a spell to [Petrify] the ancient tree. A little work on either end to set it permanently and they had a safe bridge across the river and deeper into the beast range without having to go to either the bridge to the north or the ford across the border to the south. As they came into the small clearing where the end of the tree was secured to the ground, Stan stopped and quickly placed a hand out behind him to stop his son. Lucas didn¡¯t say anything, but he immediately began searching for whatever had startled his father. Without a work, Stan motioned Lucas to stay where he was and melted into the growth at the side of the small trail they were following. After a few moments there was a yell from the other side of the clearing, and a small humanoid, only slightly taller than Lucas¡¯ four-foot height. The gob, that¡¯s what Lucas assumed it was, had brown, leathery skin covered in dirt and filth. His nose was long and sharp, and he had two tusks sticking out from his lower jaw over his upper lip. He was bald and had two big, leathery ears flopping around as he ran out of the forest towards the bridge. The gob¡¯s dirty jerkin was torn and ragged and flapped behind him as he flew towards the perceived safety of the river crossing. Out of the forest flew an arrow that took the terror stricken goblinoid at the base of the skull. He immediately fell, tripping over his big feet and lay twitching on the ground. Lucas didn¡¯t say anything, but he quickly placed a hand on the hilt of his rapier. A few seconds later his father came running out of the clearing after his arrow. ¡°Quickly! Cross the bridge, Son!,¡± he yelled out. He got to the bridge and knocked an arrow to his bow, waiting for the unseen threat to come out of the forest behind him. ¡°The whole damn band must be migrating south.¡± Lucas hesitated for only a second before sprinting the fifteen or so meters to the end of the tree trunk bridge. With only a guide rope to help keep him steady on the still slightly rounded tree trunk, he began to cross over the quick flowing river below. A yell from behind grabbed his attention and Lucas paused in his trek to look back. His father was releasing an arrow from his bow and must have been using a skill to fire because in the short distance between his father and the edge of the woods there were already two other arrows in flight. Laying on the ground at the edge of the clearing were two new dead gob bodies, each as dirty and ragged as the first, with arrows embedded in their chests. The lack of attention to his footing cost Lucas dearly. A thrown spear from the forest passed his father with meters to spare, but it headed dangerously close to Lucas. Lucas, responding instinctively attempted to step sideways and put some distance between himself and the dangerous spear. There was a brief moment of wrongness where Lucas¡¯ feet didn¡¯t want to go to the place where he had imagined them. Instead of the slick but steady trunk of the tree his left foot had caught on a nub of a branch. With the loss of balance and his poor positioning, he fell, putting all of his weight on the old, waterdamaged rope. There was a moment, the longest moment Lucas had ever experienced outside of his [Combat Focus] where he knew exactly what was coming. His father looked on, eyes widening in terror, the first time Lucas had ever seen his father scared. When the rope gave, there wasn¡¯t a sound, just a sudden loss of tension. There should have been a snap. Lucas thought to himself as his head went below water. That was his last thought as his head struck a log and blackness consumed him. 9.2: Gobs of Fun Lucas came to with a splitting headache and a bedraggled Mr. Snugglepuss laying next to him on the bank of the river. Looking back at the river, he realized he was still on the east bank. There was no way he was going to try to swim across and make his way back to camp, it was only due to blind luck and an amazing pet that he wasn¡¯t eaten or drowned while unconscious in the river. There was no telling how far he¡¯d traveled, but during their trip downriver, he didn¡¯t remember seeing this sandbar. In fact, he couldn¡¯t remember how far it was down river before the bank gave way to a manageable approach. Reaching up to check his head for injury, he didn¡¯t find any open cuts but found a goose egg the size of his fist. When he tried to sit up, he became dizzy and quickly rolled over to vomit up a large portion of the river. Once he was done heaving, he reached over and stroked his poor bedraggled pet¡¯s head. ¡°Stupid cat, you know you don¡¯t like water,¡± Lucas said slowly. ¡°Thanks for saving me.¡± Lucas slowly sat up, waiting for the next round of nausea but nothing came. ¡°Alright, Mr. Snugglepuss, we need to get back from the river, too much living in there that thinks of us as snacks.¡± He slowly stood and used his pet to steady himself as the world spun. Once the dizziness passed, he and the void cat slowly worked their way away from the river. His father had drilled into him that the river carried unknown dangers from deeper in beast range and he should never linger within ten meters, let alone at the only easy approach to the river for at least a day¡¯s journey. With a great deal of effort and two more episodes of dry heaving, he and his void cat worked themselves far enough away from the river for Lucas to feel safe enough to sleep. He began going through his list of resources in his head. Pack, some herbs, rope, sabre, bow, arrows, fishing line, hooks, dagger, canteen. I need to find a place to sleep and some way to stay warm. I¡¯ll need food, plenty of fresh water, but I don¡¯t want to have to travel too far to get it. He finished the list in his head remembering the many lessons he¡¯d received from his father, most on this very trip. Every time they¡¯d taken a moment in camp to do something, his father would often interject exactly why they were performing the task. From placing stringers around their camp with noise makers to making sure the latrine was always a set distance from the camp but never overgrown. With no obvious landmarks to work with, he didn¡¯t want to do too much. First, he found a larger tree, something with a decent number of roots near the surface, and started looking for a place to make a burrow. It didn¡¯t take bout about an hour to find the ideal spot to stay a few nights. An area under two larger roots that he didn¡¯t even have to dig out. He scrounged for firewood next. It would be dark soon, and he would need to get dry if he didn¡¯t want to freeze. He wasn¡¯t able to move quite as fast as he wanted to, but by the time the sun set, he was sitting in front of a small fire. An extra shirt from his pack was on him and the rest of his clothes were drying near the fire. Dinner consisted of some edible plants that he¡¯d found. He still got dizzy when he moved too quick, but he hadn¡¯t tried to vomit since making his way from the river. ¡°Sorry, Mr. Snugglepuss. I¡¯ll try to fish tomorrow if we can¡¯t find you anything in the morning,¡± he said to his slightly less bedraggled void cat. The next morning brought a significantly better outlook for Lucas. He didn¡¯t get dizzy as easily and was able to exert himself. His small burrow had kept him reasonably dry and Mr. Snugglepuss kept him warm. With newfound vigor, he set off before the sun was truly up to do what his father had warned him might happen to him and ambush some poor creature heading to the river to drink. He fished one of his spare bowstrings from its waxed pouch in his pack and strung his bow. With only a small amount of thought he felt his [Stealth] engage and he and his pet set off. Within a few minutes he was approaching the river again and quickly climbed a nearby tree and took up position with the wind blowing his scent back towards the river and prepared to watch two excellent approaches. It didn¡¯t take long before Lucas heard movement in the brush to his right and slightly behind him. He didn¡¯t move at all to turn and try to find the sound, but he waited instead for whatever was moving towards the river to enter his field of view. After about three minutes, a small creature slowly emerged from the underbrush and ambled along towards the sandbar that lay just out of sight. The small furred creature reminded Lucas of a beaver, but with a prehensile tail similar to an opossum¡¯s. The creature was big enough to keep Lucas and his pet void cat fed today and tomorrow and he was sure that his father could do something with the hide if he were here. Without a sound, Lucas nocked an arrow and waited for a clear shot. It didn¡¯t take long before the small creature entered the area that Lucas had marked mentally as his kill zone and Lucas released the tension on the string. With a short whistle as the arrow sped through the air, Lucas and Mr. Snugglepuss saw what they hoped was their first meal take an arrow through the side, just above its forelegs.
Sneak Attack Success!
Due to your opponent being unaware of your presence when you attacked, they have received additional 20% damage and the hemmrohage status effect. Your opponent will take additional damage over time until the wound heals.
(Experience rewards deferred until full System Access is acquired)
The only problem was, the creature didn¡¯t fall over dead like Lucas imagined it would after taking so much damage. Instead, it turned and immediately focused on Lucas. The small rodent like creature¡¯s eyes glowed a menacing red and it let out a loud shriek.
You have become dazed.
15% reduction applied to perception, dexterity, and wisdom for 30 seconds.
(Potency and Duration reduced due to resistance)
Lucas almost fell out of the tree after the creature used a skill on him and his cat. ¡°Attack, Mr. Snugglepuss!¡± yelled Lucas with one of the commands he rarely used with his pet void cat. Lucas recovered his balance and quickly nocked a second arrow, but the creature was gone from his sight. He began to scan the area for movement, but he could find nothing to give away where the beast had run off to. He didn¡¯t have to wait long before the creature landed on his back and sank its sharp fangs into his left shoulder near his collar bone. Even with his prodigious pain resistance skill, Lucas experienced excruciating pain. With a yell, he dropped his bow and arrow and tried to pull the dagger from his belt. With a small amount of will he activated [Keen Edge] and drove the tip of this dagger deep into the skull of the killer assassin beaver opossum monster. The evil beast bit down harder in its death throes and Lucas felt the blood pouring down the inside of his shirt. He reached up and pried the teeth from his flesh, letting the dead animal fall to the ground with his dagger. With all of his focus, he bent over and lowered himself from the branch he had been resting on to the larger one below him and then jumped down to the ground two or so meters below that. Without [Pain Resistance] that alone would have probably made him pass out. He quickly rummaged in his pack, covered in brush at the base of the tree, for his spare shirt and scrounged for his dagger to cut it into a makeshift bandage. By the time he had several layers of cloth around the wound and had it tied down the pain was starting to fade. The bandage was soaked through fairly quickly and he knew he would need extra help for this. He left it in place and called for his pet. Once Mr. Snugglepuss returned, Lucas bent and retrieved the corpse of the assassin beaver opossum and tied his pack to his pet. He carried the demon creature back by it¡¯s oddly fluffy tail, taking a perverse joy each time he smacked it¡¯s head against a tree on the way. When they got back to his temporary camp, he began to sift through his pack for his small pot and started pulling bags of poorly gathered herbs from the pack. Thanking his father again for the [Firestarter] stick he got the flames going. He knew from reading his herb lore book that some of these were used for healing, but he had no clue how to prepare them into actual potions. As he sifted through the packs he pulled two specific herbs from his pouches. First was the Blood Bedstraw, a common herb used to make healing potions and blood recovery potions. It had a sticky sap that helped reduce inflammation and bleeding. Second was the Purple Purslane, which was also supposed to speed healing and reduce infection. He got the best specimens that he had gathered of each and went to work. To make his poultice, he removed the leaves from the Purslane and shredded them as best he could. Then he used the handle from his dagger to grind them down as fine as possible and added a few drops of water. He wasn¡¯t sure if boiling the water would reduce the effectiveness, but he knew that his mom made syrup by mixing the ingredients together and boiling extra water off. At worst, the poultice wouldn¡¯t work. It didn¡¯t take long before he had the small amount of water boiling. After just a couple of minutes at boil, he was afraid that he would damage the leaves so he removed it from the fire and pulled out the Blood Bedstraw. The Blood Bedstraw had a pink sap, where it got the name blood, that he was going to use to keep the bandage in place and hold the poultice in the wound. After squeezing a reasonable amount of the sticky sap onto a cloth, he took his dagger and stirred his poultice. He mixed in small amounts of the sap until it thickened just a bit and got ready. He scooped a small amount of the leaf, water, sap mixture out and put it on his wound and had to stop from the pain. Two more generous dollops of the mixture and he quickly slathered the sticky sap over the wound while pulling the edges together. Once more, he applied clean bandages to the wound and tied it off. After about a minute he felt a burning sensation in his shoulder that got steadily hotter. In just a few moments it was almost unbearable. With a loud scream Lucas tensed up. There were notifications coming quicker than he could register them and before he could do anything else he lost consciousness. Mr. Snugglepuss quickly sniffed at his master and, after ensuring he was breathing comfortably after putting the foul-smelling flowers on his wound he settled down to enjoy the fruits of their hunt. His master was making a bad habit out of passing out, but Mr. Snugglepuss was grateful that he at least went and got food first. Without a care, Mr. Snugglepuss tugged the carcass of the odd creature out from under his master and began to eat. Lucas woke to see the fire going stronger than he remembered and with multiple notifications pending his acknowledgment. The mind rending pain that he felt after putting his poultice on was gone, in fact his shoulder felt fully healed, maybe the poultice worked better than he expected. He quickly looked around his campsite and realized that the fire was built up by his father, but all that was in the camp was his father¡¯s pack. He closed his eyes and focused on the notifications from the system that were steadily pulsing at the back of his consciousness.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
Congratulations!
You have learned the skill Herb Lore [Un]
Through intense study of plants and the application of this knowledge, you have gained the skill Herb Lore. This skill increases your ability to find and gather plants. Remain diligent in your pursuit of knowledge and further bonuses are available at later levels.
¡°Herb Lore [Un] Level 1: Progress 0%
(Experience rewards for all levels gained in skill deferred until full System Access is acquired)
Congratulations!
You have learned the skill Poison Crafting [Un]
You have crafted and applied your first deadly poison. This skill will allow you to better craft poisons and grant knowledge of which materials are poisonous so that your future poisons might be more successful.
Poison Crafting [Un] Level 1: Progress 0%
(Experience rewards for all levels gained in skill deferred until full System Access is acquired)
Achievement Unlocked!
Self Tester
Your dedication to your craft has led you to test a deadly poison on yourself and you somehow survived. Due to this you have gained a better knowledge of which substances are likely to cause you harm.
When a food, drink, salve, potion, emollient, lotion, or poison is consumed or applied to you, you may gain knowledge about its properties The negative effects of the substance are partially negated. The positive effects of the substance are partially increased. Discover more substances in order to advance this achievement.
Substances consumed 1/20
Poisons Identified 1/20 Potions Identified 0/20 Ingredients Identified 2/50
(Experience rewards for achievements deferred until full System Access is acquired)
¡± With a sigh, he realized that his father must have had a healing potion, that was the only way that he wasn¡¯t laying here with an even worse wound than he started with. So much for using his herb lore skill to craft a basic potion. He would definitely try it out on someone else first next time. With a brief pause, he realized that there would be a next time. He had actually kind of enjoyed mixing the herbs together to make his, well, poison. The idea that he could discover new ways to mix them together to create something that could fully heal or give himself an ability, or even just to make himself stronger for a time was incredibly exciting. After a rare moment of introspection, he realized that his parents were already leading him down that path. He enjoyed learning the sword and the bow, but he wasn¡¯t amazing at either like his parents. If not for the dream, he probably never would have even learned the uncommon [Swordsmanship] skill. But he knew that he had worked hard for [Herb Lore] and even without attempting it, had earned the [Poison Crafting] skill. With a little bit of effort, he was certain that he could be a decent [Alchemist]. Maybe he would tier up to be an adventuring [Witch Doctor]. With thoughts of drinking miraculous elixirs to breath dragon flames at hordes of dungeon creatures filling his head, Lucas didn¡¯t hear when his father returned to his camp site. This turned out to be a bit of a mistake since his father was already mad at his son for picking a fight with a wevil and then attempting to make a potion out of weeds without even a basic alchemy primer. When he returned to camp to find his son awake but daydreaming, he picked up a rock and threw it at his son¡¯s head hard enough to leave a lump but not quite knock him out. Stan was pretty sure it was still better than the knot his son had had on his head prior to the healing potion. ¡°Ouch!¡± Lucas yelled as the stone hit him. Fearing another assassin beaver opossum attack, he tried to jump out of his bedroll and find his sabre, only to tangle his feet and fall flat on is face to find his father with a twinkle in his eyes and a pet void cat who was wholly ignoring the entire episode to finish gnawing on the bones of his lunch. ¡°What¡¯d I tell you on the first day in the forest?¡± asked Stan. ¡°Don¡¯t wander off?¡± asked/replied Lucas after thinking hard for a moment. ¡°No, after that.¡± Stan said with exasperation. ¡°Don¡¯t eat that,¡± said Lucas with confidence. He remembered it well. The first day as soon as he had walked off to gather an herb that he¡¯d seen from the trail his father had told him not to wander off and then, as soon as Lucas was going to taste the petals that his herb lore book said were edible and full of protein, his father had told him he couldn¡¯t eat it. ¡°Always pay attention!¡± his father snapped. He paused to take a deep breath and let it out before continuing. ¡°Son, you always need to be aware of your surroundings. Those gobs won¡¯t be nice enough to just lob a rock at your head, they¡¯ll put an arrow or a spear through your skull faster than you can blink.¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t kill them all, dad?¡± Lucas asked with confusion. His father was clearly capable of hunting down and killing a small tribe of gobs. ¡°That¡¯s beside the point. Son, this trip hasn¡¯t gone like I wanted. You¡¯ve almost died twice, three times if you count the attempt at suicide from putting whatever that poison was in the wevil wound. This section of the beast range is normally pretty safe, with the exception of the bloodvines and whatever crawls out of the river. ¡°Well, we¡¯re not going to make it back across the bridge anytime soon. You floated quite a ways and its closer to cross at the ford. The gobs are mostly dead. I wiped out most of their warriors at the bridge and the few I found huntin¡¯ for you were,¡± he paused for a moment to think of the right word, ¡°on their last legs. I reckon most of ¡®em will die out by the time I make it back to Emmit¡¯s Lake and spread the word. The guild will finish off any remaining.¡± Stan sat down and just stared at his son for a moment before continuing. ¡°I hope you get the skill before we make it back to the camp. The ford¡¯s only a days hike and then three days back to camp. Too much has happened on this trip that wasn¡¯t expected and I want to get you back home before somethin¡¯ else happens,¡± he said. He waited for a moment for the protest he was sure was coming. ¡°That¡¯s ok dad. I got the [Herb Lore] and the [Psn]¡­,¡± Lucas muttered under his breath when he said his second skill, ¡°.skills when I made that poultice,¡± his father clearly wasn¡¯t fooled. ¡°That¡¯s great news son, at least about [Herb Lore]. I¡¯m not surprised you got [Poison Crafting] that ¡°poultice¡± you made was a piece of work,¡± he said the word poultice with obvious sarcasm. ¡°At least now you¡¯ll know what¡¯ll poison you before you put it in you. Now, promise me you won¡¯t make any more concoctions without me or your ma knowin¡¯ about it and tellin¡¯ you it¡¯s ok,¡± he said. ¡°I promise dad. That hurt,¡± he replied while remembering the severe pain caused by the poison and wondered how bad it would have been without [Pain Resistance]. Lucas decided to think about something else and ask question that had been on his mind since his father had arrived. ¡°Why do you keep calling it a wevil? ¡°Isn¡¯t that he name of the thing that gets in the flour at home?¡± Stan let out a quiet chuckle and replied, ¡°They sound the same, spelled a little different. Actually, that¡¯s one of a bunch of creatures here in the beast range that my pa named. The first time he met one he called it a ¡®wee evil little butt fucker¡¯ and had to have one of his fingers regrown, every time after that he called it a ¡®wee evil bastard¡¯ and the system eventually applied the wevil name.¡± Lucas smiled at the thought that the evil little beaver opossum gave his powerful grandfather so much trouble and decided that he didn¡¯t do all that badly. ¡°Well, if you¡¯re well enough to sit around n¡¯ yap, you¡¯re well enough to walk. Lets get your pack put together and start south. The ford isn¡¯t far,¡± Stan said as he stood and picked up his pack. Without any fanfare, Lucas, Stan, and Mr. Snugglepuss started heading south following the general direction of the river. Now, as Lucas traveled, he couldn¡¯t help notice plants as he walked. Whereas he would have to actively search for the various plants from his book, sometimes¡­most of the time¡­missing them completely, now he found his attention being drawn to various flowers, bushes, shrubs, trees, and fruits as he walked. It was almost too much to take in and he quickly succumbed to the lack of attention he was paying to the trail as he tripped over his own feet while staring at a rare fruit hanging tantalizingly out of reach about three meters from the path they were traveling along. His father didn¡¯t say anything, he simply looked back to ensure that Lucas hadn¡¯t injured himself when he fell. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, dad. It¡¯s the new skill. I can¡¯t stop seeing all the herbs around me. I don¡¯t know how to turn it off,¡± Lucas said as he picked himself up off the ground. Stan stopped as he was pushing a branch from his path and looked back at his son. Lucas was scratched on his face already with burrs sticking to him. The plan was never to have his son out in the actual wilderness for even one night, let alone the four or five it may take to get to the ford, across, and back to camp without running into random groups of gobs. He was pretty sure he wiped out the majority of them in his rage after seeing his son fall in. The only thing that had kept him sane was seeing that damn cat paddling for all it was worth with Lucas gripped tightly in its jaws. The fact that Lucas was doing as well as he was, especially after a run in with a wevil, was a significant sign of his son¡¯s strength. Stan knelt in front of his son and pulled a twig from his tangled red hair. ¡°You¡¯ll never really turn it off,¡± he said. ¡°What¡¯s worse is that whenever your perception increases by a lot, like when you use the [Combat Focus] skill you¡¯ll have to readjust. And, yes, I know you aren¡¯t using the skill like we discussed today. I was gonna¡¯ say something about it tonight, but I want you to start using it again. You need to adjust to the added perception with your [Herb Lore]. While we¡¯re walking, I want you to try to see the things that your skill is bringing to your attention without actually focusing on ¡®em. It¡¯s a lot like when you have a system message, you¡¯ll know it¡¯s there, but it won¡¯t take all of your attention.¡± ¡°Yes, sir,¡± replied Lucas. ¡°You¡¯re doin¡¯ great, son,¡± Stan said as he stood and brushed the dirt from his knees. ¡°I know grown men who wouldn¡¯t have done near as well as you. Just keep it up for a few more days and we¡¯ll get you home.¡± Lucas perked up after hearing that and responded with a more enthusiastic, ¡°Yes, Sir.¡± They set out following the river south again, and Lucas focused on his [Combat Focus] as they walked. He felt the world slow down and it seemed like every tree and plant within twenty meters was screaming for his attention. It only lasted for a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. He had struggled not to fall to the ground and clutch his head while the skill was activated. After the skill ended, Lucas could still see every one of the plants that his [Herb Lore] had picked out, but they didn¡¯t demand all of his attention. As he walked, Lucas tried to let the awareness of the various flora fade into the background of his consciousness. It was hard, and he tripped two or three more times as they walked. By the time Stan and Lucas began to veer towards the river again at what Lucas assumed was the crossing, he was able to keep his attention on the trail somewhat and almost ignore the plants demanding his attention. The duo came out of the forest to see the river had widened out considerably at an area with some small rapids. Sticking up above the water in several places were stones with the occasional snagged piece of timber. The water wasn¡¯t moving at a dangerous pace here, but it was swifter than the current farther north. ¡°Water¡¯s about knee high to me most of the way across. I want you to hold on to my belt and work your way across with me. Whatever you do, stay on my left and don¡¯t let go,¡± said Stan. ¡°What about Mr. Snugglepuss?¡± asked Lucas ¡°The cat¡¯ll be able to make it across fine. Just you worry about yourself and we¡¯ll make camp in an hour or so and get dried out before the son¡¯s all the way down,¡± he said as he looked up in the sky to see the son three quarters of the way done with it¡¯s journey for the day. ¡°Yes, sir,¡± said Lucas. Stan tightened the straps on his and Lucas¡¯ packs and made sure Lucas had a steady grip on his belt before slowly stepping into the water. As he had promised, the water was knee high to Stan, and it was above Lucas¡¯ waist. They worked their way across steadily, taking almost ten minutes to make the crossing. When they stepped out of the river on the other side, Lucas was soaked from head to toe and shivering already. Stan quickly took his son¡¯s shirt and gave him one of his own out of his pack. ¡°Let¡¯s get moving, if you stand still you¡¯ll just be colder, movement will warm you up. It¡¯s only an hour till we can make camp,¡± said Stan. They set out again, but Lucas didn¡¯t remember much after coming out of the water. He was finally successful in ignoring his skill¡¯s prompts to pay attention to the plant life around him because he wasn¡¯t able to pay attention to anything more than putting one foot in front of the other. A miserable hour later, Lucas sat in front of the fire with just his father¡¯s shirt on and slowly chewed on a dinner of biscuits and jerky. Within moments of laying down, he was deep into sleep and dreading the trek back north tomorrow. He didn¡¯t even take the time to wonder about the fact that he was in a whole new country for the first time in his life. Oops! There was a section of Chapter 9.2 missing from the original rough draft. Feel free to go back and read it with the first 1900 words actually there. It was supposed to be a longer chapter to make up for the lack of two posts and a delay of so long between posts. That''s all I had to say¡­Here¡¯s the opening scene from monty python and the holy grail to fill the other 400 words or so. [wind] [clop clop clop] ARTHUR: Whoa there! [clop clop clop] SOLDIER #1: Halt! Who goes there? ARTHUR: It is I, Arthur, son of Uther Pendragon, from the castle of Camelot. King of the Britons, defeater of the Saxons, Sovereign of all England! SOLDIER #1: Pull the other one! ARTHUR: I am, and this is my trusty servant Patsy. We have ridden the length and breadth of the land in search of knights who will join me in my court at Camelot. I must speak with your lord and master. SOLDIER #1: What? Ridden on a horse? ARTHUR: Yes! SOLDIER #1: You''re using coconuts! ARTHUR: What? SOLDIER #1: You''ve got two empty halves of coconut and you''re bangin'' ''em together.This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ARTHUR: So? We have ridden since the snows of winter covered this land, through the kingdom of Mercia, through-- SOLDIER #1: Where''d you get the coconuts? ARTHUR: We found them. SOLDIER #1: Found them? In Mercia? The coconut''s tropical! ARTHUR: What do you mean? SOLDIER #1: Well, this is a temperate zone. ARTHUR: The swallow may fly south with the sun or the house martin or the plover may seek warmer climes in winter, yet these are not strangers to our land? SOLDIER #1: Are you suggesting coconuts migrate? Not at all. They could be carried. SOLDIER #1: What? A swallow carrying a coconut? ARTHUR: It could grip it by the husk SOLDIER #1: It''s not a question of where he grips it! It''s a simple question of weight ratios! A five ounce bird could not carry a one pound coconut. ARTHUR: Well, it doesn''t matter. Will you go and tell your master that Arthur from the Court of Camelot is here? SOLDIER #1: Listen. In order to maintain air-speed velocity, a swallow needs to beat its wings forty-three times every second, right? ARTHUR: Please! SOLDIER #1: Am I right? ARTHUR: I''m not interested! SOLDIER #2: It could be carried by an African swallow! SOLDIER #1: Oh, yeah, an African swallow maybe, but not a European swallow. That''s my point. SOLDIER #2: Oh, yeah, I agree with that. ARTHUR: Will you ask your master if he wants to join my court at Camelot?! SOLDIER #1: But then of course, uh, African swallows are non-migratory. SOLDIER #2: Oh, yeah. SOLDIER #1: So, they couldn''t bring a coconut back anyway. [clop clop clop] SOLDIER #2: Wait a minute! Supposing two swallows carried it together? SOLDIER #1: No, they''d have to have it on a line. SOLDIER #2: Well, simple! They''d just use a strand of creeper! SOLDIER #1: What, held under the dorsal guiding feathers? SOLDIER #2: Well, why not? Chapter 10.1: Monkey Business Lucas slept peacefully next to the fire with his father watching over him and dreamed. The dreams lately had shifted. After learning a few skills and seeing the ruthlessness of the pirate captain, Lucas¡¯ dreams had been normal for a few weeks. Tonight, a new dream began, one that was a completely different experience from what Lucas had seen with the Pirate King. The dream began as the host opened the front door of his cottage. Just outside was a verdant forest teeming with life. Lucas could tell that his host had the herblore skill, and it must have been quite powerful since Lucas could see just the tip of a strange fruit at the limit of his vision buried in the dense undergrowth just off of the trail at what must have been 50 meters. In addition, Lucas could pinpoint exactly where lifeforms were in the vicinity of his new host. The sensation was strange, but compelling. The host must not have been a tall man since Lucas¡¯ vision was actually a little lower than with the pirate king. The point of view began to shift as his host began to walk along the small trail outside the door of the cottage and Lucas spent his time riding along with his host playing with the new sense that he had discovered. It was like he knew, at the back of his mind, where every creature for fifty meters or so was. With some concentration, Lucas was able to focus on one of the presences around him and could tell that one of the many lifeforms was a squirrel. He could tell that it was satiated and excited because it scented a female who was ready to breed. The more he focused on the squirrel, the more he began to feel what the squirrel felt. He could feel the smooth bark of the tree under him, the cool water as it drank from the small bowl in a leaf, the air flying through its fur as it jumped from one branch in the dense canopy to another. Eventually the squirrel began to near the edge of his host¡¯s [Perception] range and the sensation began to grow dull. As the squirrel left the range, Lucas found himself back behind the eyes of his mysterious new host. Again, the jungle was alive around him and the many animals were simply a presence at the back of his mind. The sensation was easy to ignore, and Lucas guessed that his host must have an amazing [Willpower] in order to be able to push all of the distractions caused by the [Herblore] skill and by whatever skill allowed him to sense all of the life around him with such a high [Perception]. After thinking about it for another moment, Lucas was pretty sure that it was [Sense Life]. That would be the only name that made sense for the skill. His host wasn¡¯t doing anything exciting, just walking through the jungle. The path ahead was remarkably free of growth and the journey to wherever they were going would be quick, Lucas was sure. Lucas put his attention back on the animals around him. This time he didn¡¯t single out any one animal. Instead, he focused on the general sense he had of the animals around him. He tried to clear his thoughts like with his [Meditation] and slowly let everything except the sense of the animals leave his consciousness. After several weeks of doing so in his dreams, Lucas was gaining a strong sense of how to break down and learn the abilities that his hosts had in the dreams. He felt kind of bad that people like his dad and mom couldn¡¯t learn abilities so easily. He had tried to explain how to learn the navigate ability to his dad, but he was ultimately unsuccessful. His father had his own [Tracking] skill anyways. His focus slowly shifted to the way that the ability perceived the various animals around his host. He started to focus on the edges of his host¡¯s perception and, as a new life form came within range, he noticed that his host became aware of it almost immediately. Each time it happened, Lucas would focus on the feeling of his hosts mana. He knew that mana was the core to almost all abilities. He had heard his dad talk about people who used other energy to do things through the system, but to Lucas it just sounded like a different version of mana. Ever so slowly, Lucas began to feel his hosts mana as it pulsed. Every time a new creature entered his host¡¯s perception range there was a weight that seemed to settle on the mana in his host¡¯s body. It wasn¡¯t much but a small dip in the amount of mana circulating within the body occurred each time. As they walked through the incredibly open path in the jungle, more and more creatures came and went. Slowly, Lucas began to feel a super thin field of mana that surrounded them and had an understanding of exactly what the mana was doing. The field searched for specific criteria by using mana that had a different feel than mana normally had. The field was so thin it was like air. It didn¡¯t have really any weight to it and it didn¡¯t disturb the world around it, it simply looked for life. To Lucas, the mana reminded him of the smell of a summer shower on the grass at home or like the taste of beeling honey for the first time. It was life and vitality and energy. Suddenly larger and larger creatures started to enter the field and Lucas came out of his stupor. He began to look for what had caused the change in the size of the creatures and realized that they were coming upon civilization, of a sort. Hidden within the foliage was a small village of tree houses. Interconnecting each of these small huts were bridges and ropes. A sound to their right where one of the larger presences was caused his host to turn. What he saw would have made Lucas scream in fright if he wasn¡¯t trapped behind his host¡¯s eyes. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.Coming out of the dense brush was a cross between a large monkey and a small man. He stood upright but was completely covered with fur. He head smaller ears than Lucas had ever seen on anyone and two teeth protruding from his lower jaw over his upper lip. He was wearing a rough loincloth and vest made from some leather. He had a spear in his right hand and a small rodent in his left. He didn¡¯t seem surprised to see Lucas visitor at all. He made an odd salute with the spear, lowering the tip a bit, almost like the spear was bowing, before bringing the hand holding the spear to his chest with the spear at an angle. ¡°Peace be with you, Greenwalker. What brings you to our village today?¡± asked the ape man. ¡°And with you, friend hunter. I had an overwhelming urge to travel to the south today when I woke up. As I got closer to your village, the urge became stronger and stronger. Is there anybody in the village that may have need of my services today?¡± responded his host. It took Lucas a moment to realize that the language they spoke wasn¡¯t Common. In fact, it sounded like nothing he had ever heard before. Each of the speakers had spoken with oddly accented, almost musical words with lots of vowels. ¡°Young Bez¡¯trice is heavy with child. Yesterday evening she fell into a stupor and has not responded. She burns hot to the touch and no remedy has lowered the heat of her body. This,¡± he gestured with the rodent in his hand, ¡°was to be a sacrifice to the goddess Lethe, to assist with the healing process.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t want to interfere with a religious ceremony,¡± replied his host. ¡°But, I will watch and stand by in case I am needed. I am skilled at healing, as you know.¡± ¡°Many thanks, druid. Please, follow me into the village. I ask that you stay your magic while traversing the village. Should the plants move suddenly, many families may find themselves without a home.¡± ¡°Of course, friend hunter,¡± replied the [Druid]. He turned, showing Lucas the wide, clear path behind him. With a wave of his hand and a brief expenditure of mana, the foliage seemed to melt down to cover the path, leaving pristine jungle that the most agile squirrel would have trouble navigating where before there was a path that three could tread abreast. If Lucas had had a voice, he would have used one of his father¡¯s curse words. All this time he had been focusing on learning the skill to sense life when he could have been trying to learn how to make a highway in the jungle. A skill like that would make traversing the beast range a breeze. The monkey man proceeded to walk into the village and the [Druid] followed along placidly. They approached a cluster of homes and approached one tiny hut that Lucas could tell had six or seven people jammed inside. They climbed the ladder hanging from the porch and their guide knocked on the door. The door opened to show a room with four of the monkey people in it. There were only two chairs, both occupied, and two other young monkey men were crouched next against the wall. . Lucas wasn¡¯t sure if they would even fit, but the hunter stepped in and approached a closed door without even speaking to the four others in the room. A quick rap with his spear showed a fifth monkey person. This one was coated with a silver, gray hair and had a face that was as wrinkled as a prune. ¡°About time you brought the sacrifice, Alt¡¯ark,¡± said the older female. ¡°Now we can begin the.¡± She stopped speaking suddenly as her eyes caught site of the [Druid]. ¡°Why would you allow this heretic to come to this place!?!¡± She screamed. ¡°You dare to bring this filth in front of me. I have warned you and the other hunters, any contact with this demon endangers your souls. Remove him from the house at once!¡± ¡°Gunta, we told you, the druid is a friend of the people and we will not treat him so. I¡¯m the head hunter and the village chief himself has said he is welcome to come into any home anytime he wants. He followed me here as a courtesy. He didn¡¯t have to wait for me to guide him, he had already been called by the Jungle Spirit to come help poor Bez¡¯trice.¡± ¡°I tell you now, in front of these elders. The druid will be the death of the village. He brings bad magic to the people. The goddess has spoken, and Lethe said cast him out,¡± said the older primate. ¡°You may be a priestess of Lethe, but you have never seen the future before. You fear the loss of your power, which the druid has said he does not covet. He is a friend to the jungle and a friend to the people. Now, perform your magic to heal Bez¡¯trice or move out of the way so the druid can do what he came here for.¡± ¡°So be it. I¡¯ll perform the ritual and heal the girl. You will see, Lethe is more powerful than any [Druid] could imagine.¡± With those ominous words hanging in the air and not one word spoken by his host, the three stepped into the room. 10.2: Monkey Business Lying on the bed, the only piece of furniture in the room other than a small trunk and bedside table with a missing leg, was a younger female monkey person. Her face was smooth, missing the wrinkles lining the face of the [Priest], and her fur was a dark brown with streaks of gold interspersed throughout. Her hair may have been lustrous at one point, but now it was matted to her body as she lay on the bed sweating. Covering her was a thick blanket and the room was filled with a powerful incense. Lucas didn¡¯t know what was wrong with her, but it was obvious she was sick. He couldn¡¯t see his host¡¯s face, but the look of chagrin that came upon the young [Hunter]¡¯s face after glancing at the [Druid] was enough to tell that he clearly disapproved of the steps taken so far to heal the young woman. With a brief delay as the [Priest] fiddled with the incense in the burner and placed the palm of the hand to the female¡¯s forehead, the [Priest] began to set up for the sacrifice to Lethe. Lucas didn¡¯t know who Lethe was, but he was starting to sense a pattern in his dreams of the gods not liking his hosts. Lucas took a moment to try to lock the vision of the ritual in his head once it was set up. In the center of the room, which was near the foot of the bed, sat a small altar to Lethe. On the altar the rodent was laid out with its limbs tied still. It had not awoken yet, but Lucas could see the rapid rise and fall of its chest. The small animal was breathing almost as fast as the female in the bed. Gunta, the [Priest], began to chant in a second language that Lucas had never heard before. The [Druid] must have been fluent though because Lucas could understand the meaning behind the harsh syllables. ¡°Oh great goddess, your servant calls upon your might. Flesh the channel, spirit the fuel.¡± After this initial phrase the [Priest] lit candles at each edge of the altar. The cloying smell of the candles quickly mixed with the incense to create an almost overpowering odor. ¡°To you we sacrifice. Flesh the channel, spirit the fuel,¡± She continued, ending with the same ritualistic phrase before driving the dagger in her hand deep into the rodent¡¯s breast. ¡°To you we submit. Flesh the channel, spirit the fuel,¡± With another verse complete, the [Priest] pulled the dagger from the rodent and slashed her own palm. She then stepped to the head of the bed and slashed the palm of the young female, which elicited no response from the comatose woman. ¡°Pull from this youngling the source of her weakness. Flesh the channel, spirit the fuel,¡± She canted again. This time the dagger went into the flames, adding the stench of burnt blood to the already overwhelming miasma in the room. ¡°Cast it out, great goddess, so she may be whole again. Flesh is the channel by which your power flows, spirit is the fuel by which you force your will upon the world!¡± She finished with a yell. The candles flared and went out, an expected response judging by the smile covering the older [Priest]¡¯s face, revealing sharp canines and a look of triumph as she glared at Lucas¡¯ host. Lucas, through his host¡¯s powerful senses, felt as if the very air was growing heavier. Suddenly, the rodent on the altar disintegrated into ash. There was no flame or heat, just a sudden crumbling of what moments before had been flesh and blood. ¡°Lethe has accepted the offering. Bez¡¯trice will be healed, and your presence is no longer required.¡± ¡°That is possible, I shall wait here quietly still and see this through to the end. That was a powerful ritual you just enacted and almost all of the power is consumed by the sacrifice. Tell me, Gunta, how much experience do you think that rodent is worth?¡± asked the [Druid] ¡°What does it matter, heretic? Lethe accepted the offering,¡± replied Gunta. ¡°Yes, but what happens if the offering is not powerful enough?¡± A brief moment of doubt flickered across the face of the [Priest] before she replied. ¡°Then the two channels will give of their spirit to offset the cost. I have much mana and a powerful spirit. Should it come to it, the goddess may take a level or two, but it should not be necessary.¡± Lucas¡¯ host nodded his head. ¡°You may be right,¡± he replied. ¡°but I doubt I would have been CALLED had this been a matter that could be solved by sacrificing a level fifteen rodent.¡± Gunta didn¡¯t respond, she simply sneered at the [Druid] and turned to look at the female lying in the bed. After a few moments the feeling of heaviness in the room was clearly starting to have an effect on the [Hunter]. His face became tense and his teeth were clenched. Both hands were balled into fists and his prehensile tale was wrapped tightly around his waist where before it followed along behind him drifting side to side. A few more moments passed and Lucas could tell that something was not going well. Gunta¡¯s face was drawn into a grimace. He felt his host activate a skill and suddenly the world exploded around him as the very air seemed to be made up of colorful motes of power. Some sat, barely moving, but most of the motes were moving in channels, like small rivers, through the air and towards the altar. Coming from Gunta was a dark red stream, matched in color by a stream that was pouring out from the female on the bed. Slowly the stream coming from Gunta became narrower and narrower until it was almost non-existent. After a few moments the stream of red coming from Bez¡¯trice trickled down to nothing. With a shift, the red stream flowing to the altar came from the female¡¯s navel rather than the chest as it had previously for both Gunta and Bez¡¯trice. ¡°You hypocrite. You would sacrifice the child to save the mother rather than lose a few levels?¡± The [Druid] asked with his voice dripping with contempt. ¡°Twenty levels!¡± she replied back. ¡°That would set me back two decades. I would never have the chance to rank up before I die. She can make another child, it is sad but necessary.¡±Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Step away, [Priest]. I shall do as I was called.¡± ¡°NO! Do not interfere with the ritual. If Lethe does not get the sacrifice she was promised, there will be a backlash.¡± The [Priest] responded with panic. ¡°Then you should have prepared better,¡± replied the [Druid]. The contempt was still there, but it was tinged with sadness. ¡°The child may still be damaged irreparably by your lack of conviction.¡± His host stepped forward and reached to place the palm of his left hand over the females belly. Just as he was about to make contact, a bolt of energy slammed into his back. Lucas felt the gathering energy before it was released so he was certain his host had been prepared for it. He didn¡¯t sense any pain from the [Druid]. His host turned and as the [Priest] prepared to unleash another attack on him, the floor under her split. A branch from the tree the house was built on slammed into the [Priest]s belly and carried her to the far wall. She struck with a loud thwack and almost immediately vomited on the floor. From the first leg sized branch many smaller branches sprouted and wrapped the [Priest] tightly in a cocoon of wood and leaves. Lucas doubted that the [Priest] would be able to breathe freely, let alone cast offensive magic. His host turned and placed his hand against the belly of the pregnant female. Lucas could feel the heat radiating off of the febrile mother-to-be. With an effort of will, the [Druid] began to pour energy into the female¡¯s belly. He could see the deep green energy begin to form a ball and the transfer of energy to the altar eventually stopped. Another mental tug and another skill was activated. Lucas attempted to focus on how the skill was working, but it was far too complex for him. He instead focused on how the mana moved outside of the [Druid]. His book spoke of external mana manipulation as the foundation for all external magic. The mana seemed to travel from deep in the belly of the [Druid] and out of his hand. As it reached his palm, the stream of mana made a specific pattern, almost like a corkscrew, and narrowed down to become far denser. Lucas committed the shape of the mana to memory and waited for whatever was going to happen. The second skill seemed to create a small suction effect as mana was drawn from the air. Each of the many currents in the room slowly began to shift from the altar to the woman and her unborn child. Most of the mana was green and blue and white. There were occasional flecks of other colors, but they made up an incredibly small amount of the total. Shortly after all of the mana streams in the air shifted to the female and child, Lucas began to feel the pressure in the room increase through his host¡¯s skin. The pressure grew, but the [Druid] did nothing. With sweat beading his forehead, the [Hunter] was glancing around with obvious anxiety. He was gripping the dagger on his belt so hard that Lucas was worried that it he would hurt himself. After a few moments of no mana flowing to the alter, Lucas heard a muffled scream from within the wooden cocoon. Within a few moments, a new thick red stream of mana tore from the cocoon and headed towards the altar. The [Druid] did not seem surprised by this development. Instead the mana feeding to the female and child slowly trickled to a halt. The makeshift altar sitting atop the three legged table soon seemed to reach a critical point and the small effigy of Lethe burst into flames, releasing acrid smoke into the room as the mana trickled and then stopped coming from the [Priest] With a gesture and release of mana too quick for Lucas to even attempt to follow, a swift breeze started at one end of the room and pushed the smoke out of the windows as the tree seemed to reach down and pull the shutters open from the outside. With it, the gust of air took the various cloying smells created by the incense that had been burning in the room previously. The [Druid] Turned to the hunter and spoke with his soft, baritone voice, ¡°I believe that I intervened in time to save your child from any truly permanent damage. That doesn¡¯t mean that he will have an easy life. He will likely level slower than others. He will probably be weaker physically than others his age. To offset this, he will also likely have more affinity to life mana and spirit mana as well as be able to sense and work mana at an earlier age and with less difficulty than his peers. The mother will simply have to regain her levels. This might actually be a boon to her as she may have class opportunities that she thought locked to her.¡± ¡°My son?¡± replied the [Hunter]. ¡°I knew it was possible. The Hima ritual night causes the women of child bearing age to take many lovers, but I wouldn¡¯t have known for sure until the child was born. Thank you, [Druid], for all that you have done. My debt to you is beyond measure. If at any time you need a member of this tribe for to lay down his life for you, call upon Alt¡¯ark. I will come, no matter the time or place, this I do swear by my life and mana.¡± There was a brilliant flash, and the oath settled on the [Hunter] and [Druid]. Lucas was so surprised that he was only able to catch a small portion of how it settled in a place near, but not the same as, his host¡¯s mana. ¡°That was a powerful oath, Alt¡¯ark. Worry not, I do not plan to call upon you to fulfill it. I consider there to be no debt between us,¡± the [Druid] paused for a minute then with another quick tug of his mana, the door to the main room shot open to reveal the four elders monkey men standing and clearly listening in to the conversation. ¡°I say this to all of your people, Alt¡¯ark. Trust not the sweet promises of these new gods with their powerful classes and miracles. They will fulfill the bargain in word only, but almost never in spirit. They do not care for the welfare of your people or your culture, as you have seen today. They care only for power,¡± the [Druid] paused for a minute to stare each of the elders in the eye before continuing. ¡°The Jungle Spirit may have been slow to act and rarely performed miracles, but it always worked to the best interests of your people and the jungle.¡± ¡°Tell us what to do, Green Walker,¡± said Alt¡¯ark. ¡°Destroy all of the fetishes and altars to this Lethe. Perform the rituals of cleansing that your grandsires taught you. Do not follow blindly any priest of a young god,¡± said the [Druid]. ¡°Alt¡¯ark, you lead these people in the hunt, and your voice is a powerful one in the village. I believe that you will do what is best for your people.¡± ¡°I will, [Druid]. Thank you. What should we do with the [Priest]¡± ¡°You may call me Luke. Worry not about the [Priest]. That ritual likely withdrew most of her levels. I will be taking her from here and will handle her myself,¡± as he said the latter part, the great pressure in the room seemed to return to the four elders and the [Hunter]. This time it seemed to emanate from Luke directly. ¡°As you wish, Green¡­I mean Luke. Again, thank you,¡± said Alt¡¯ark. ¡°I must return now. If I am needed again, I am sure the Jungle Spirit will call for me. I may return to visit the mother and child and make sure they are recovering well,¡± with that final statement, the [Druid] began to walk from the small tree house. The elders did not attempt to bar his way. Behind him, the wooden cocoon tumbled over and vines shout out from the front that pulled it across the floor like a swarm of tame snakes. The [Druid] did not appear concerned about the safety of the cocoon¡¯s occupant because the vines simply pulled the cocoon from the porch and allowed it to drop the four meters to the ground. Again, the druid began to walk through the jungle as if it was his own personal highway. Behind him came the cocoon containing the pitiful [Priest]. As the dream began to fade Lucas was glad that he learned so much about other magic with this dream. He was doubly glad that he didn¡¯t have to watch what that [Druid] was going to do to that [Priest]. Poll: Lucas Next Ability So, what kind of ability would you like to see Lucas pick up after his ride along with the [Druid]. I had a general idea as i was writing the chapter but there are several nice options available. If you don''t like the options on the poll, comment with your pick. It has to be something he experienced during the dream through his host''s senses that actually affected the host, or even a passive skill the [Druid] may have had that can be explained later. For example, the level draining ability of Lethe would not be applicable since he just saw a mana stream and it didn''t effect Luke, but if Luke had the passive ability [Plant Telepathy] which is what allowed him to [Jungle Walk] or assisted with his plant control it would be a viable if low probability option. Once I have a good set of options I''d like to leave it to RNGesus with each response weighted by votes. If this way of adding abilities, skills, characters to the story is well received I''ll try to do it a little more often.Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Chapter 11.1: The Tax Man Cometh Lucas awoke from his dream with a paplpable sense of relief. He had stopped dreaming of the [Pirate King] after seeing him butcher a dozen other captains and hold a crowning ceremony for himself. Apparently, that dream was supposed to teach him to be ruthless, but he felt that it just motivated him to never go near the water. The dream with the [Druid] was completely different. This person was a powerful [Nature Magic] user who seemed to work alone rather than a [Swordsman] and [Leader]. Most importantly, he seemed to be a good guy. Lucas had never heard of any of the gods that his hosts seemed to be fighting against, but it reassured him that his dreams could be of something other than robbery and killing. With a brief delay to enjoy the sensation of actually waking up dry and safe, Lucas opened his eyes and prepared to start the day. Lucas got up and broke camp with his father. They set up before the sun was up completely. Every plant was still wet and mist blocked the view more than a few meters from their path. The forest was alive with sounds though, even this early. It was mostly the sounds of birds and smaller animals getting a start on the day. The remainder of the journey back to camp was relatively uneventful. They made good time and camped twice more with a ragged and exhausted Lucas falling to sleep almost immediately as soon as camp was struck each day. When they got back to camp, Stan didn¡¯t allow Lucas much time dilly dally. They spent less than an hour wiping away their presence and then they were off. ¡°I took care of most of the gobs, but that don¡¯t mean they aren¡¯t a threat. Something coulda¡¯ pushed the main tribe to the edge farther north and deeper in the range and that something might do it again or come down itself. So, I still gotta give a report in Emmit¡¯s Lake,¡± said Stan as he tied his pack closed around the last item to go in, the piece of tent from over the entrance. ¡°Since we need to go back, but we¡¯re not on a timer, I¡¯m gonna¡¯ let you lead us. Your [Navigate] could use some training, and you may pick up a little more skill at movin¡¯ through the woods. I want you to start using your [Combat Focus] again, too.¡± They worked their way back to the lake and eventually to the house. Any thoughts Lucas had about going to bed without being utterly exhausted were destroyed after the first day leading the two of them. During the trip, Lucas had gotten to the point where he was no longer perpetually distracted by the plants discovered using his [Herb Lore] skill. When his home came into view through the trail, Lucas had never been so relieved. Lucas could smell his mother¡¯s cooking as they approached the house and began to salivate as soon as the door was opened and he could smell it directly. He and his father approached the kitchen, only to be stopped by his mother¡¯s voice. ¡°I hope you two aren¡¯t tracking mud and whatever else you have on you from that forest through my clean livingroom,¡± she said. ¡°No, ma¡¯am,¡± replied Stan. The man who stood against the charge of a tribe of angry gobs without flinching lowered his head without saying a word. They went around back and set their gear in the barn to be sorted later and entered the back door. The smell of roast was even stronger here, but they went immediately to the bathroom where there was already a change of clothes waiting for each of them. With such a marvelous feast waiting for them in the kitchen, the two intrepid adventurers wasted no time getting cleaned and back out to the kitchen where the food was already sitting out in serving dishes and places were set for each of the family members. Mr. Snugglepuss even had a piece of fresh meat, diced and mixed with something that almost made it look appetizing to Lucas, in his bowl in the corner. ¡°Welcome home,¡± said his mother as they came into the kitchen. She stepped forward to give Stan a kiss on the cheek and then engulfed Lucas in a huge hug. Just as he thought that he was going to pass out, she let go and allowed him to take a breath. He regretted that she let him go for a brief second, missing the soothing comfort of her embrace, but he decided that it would be difficult to eat dinner while hugging his mother. After dinner, Lucas and Stan went out to the barn to start putting away their gear. His sabre needed to be cared for to prevent any rust. The steel was well made but not magical and would eventually succumb to the elements like any other piece of metal. He had to inventory his collection of herbs and placed them in their own containers in the barn. His father had set aside a section just for him to use in his studies but he had never had need of it until now. It only took a couple of hours before he was back in his room. He quickly reached under his mattress and grabbed Stick so that he could let his void cat in to snuggle with him. After he was comfortable, he decided to play with his new ability some. [Mana Control] indicated that he could do more with his mana than he had been. He knew that a [Mage] was able to cast spells by forming mana into specific patterns, similar to his [Keen Edge] ability. Thinking of [Keen Edge] Lucas wondered if he could use it on more than his dagger. Maybe he could put it on arrows before launching them or even use it on his fingers to give himself claws. He spent a few minutes daydreaming about having awesome magic claws before finally picking up Stick and focusing on his mana. First, he tried activating the ability like he normally did, just by thinking about what he wanted and urging his mana to move. There was no response. He wasn¡¯t too surprised by that though. The ability itself seemed to be designed for blades and the system was pretty strict about many of those little details. He would just have to do it the hard way. I wonder what the skill will be called? He thought to himself. His experience with the system so far was that he simply needed to show a basic level of skill with something before an ability was granted. After that he just needed to practice. He wasn¡¯t sure what the limit was, but he felt that it was important to be able to use his mana to do things like this if he was going to be a powerful combat [Alchemist] or [Adventurer]. He remembered distinctly the feeling of his mana when the [Keen Edge] ability was working. Sitting with his legs crossed, Lucas began to [Meditate]. He slowly began to feel the mana in his body. It wasn¡¯t really doing anything. He thought about how it felt when he was riding along with the [Druid]. The mana then had felt almost like a solid core of power that sat just behind the belly button. It wasn¡¯t exactly what Lucas had imagined when he was reading about forming a Mana Pool. When the [Druid] cast his spells the mana had flowed up and out and it had a vitality to it that Lucas¡¯ mana currently lacked though. Lucas decided that he would try to get his mana to move and cover stick first before trying to get it into the Mana Pool that the book talked about. He focused on the mana that he could feel sitting in his chest and tried to will it down his arm and into Stick. When he was stabbing the giant man-eating frog, the mana had flowed naturally. He remembered clearly the sensation. When he was using the skill, the system assisted and he had to do almost no work at keeping the skill up at this point. Now, though, he was trying to pull mana from inside his body, specifically from his right arm, and push it out and into Stick with the intent of adding an edge to something that didn¡¯t have one and wasn¡¯t even considered a true weapon by the system. After an hour of struggle, Lucas gave up and went to sleep. He remembered to let Mr. Snugglepuss back out and close his shutters with Stick before dozing off. Sleep was dreamless and the first night in his bed was truly relaxing. The next morning, Stan was setting out to Emmit¡¯s Lake to inform the guard there of the threat posed by the migrating gobs. The sun was up and Lucas rushed to meet his father as he was exiting the barn. The wagon that they used to pick up supplies was hitched to their mule and Lucas was relieved when he saw that his father hadn¡¯t left yet. ¡°You¡¯re up might early, son,¡± Said his father, pretending not to know why his son was up and dressed so early after just coming home from the wilds.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. ¡°Can I go with you to the village, dad?¡± asked Lucas. Stan pretended to think about it while Lucas tried, and failed, to hide his anxiety about being left behind. Trips to the village were rare, and even though they were bringing bad news, Lucas still hoped to be able to go. ¡°Alright, you can go,¡± said Stan. ¡°Tell your mother to pack you..¡± he didn¡¯t get to finish the sentence because Lucas¡¯ mother stepped out of the house at that exact moment with a neatly wrapped lunch for both of them. ¡°Be safe, boys,¡± said his mother as she bent down and kissed him on the forehead before giving his father a more robust goodbye kiss. ++++++++++ The trip to the village was significantly less eventful this time. They made the trip in good time and Lucas spent the time between uses of [Combat Focus] by attempting to push his mana out of his hand and into various objects. He tried a variety of different images for his mana and could tell that he was making progress. He could feel the mana in his arm starting to pool at his hand that was touching the small pebble in his palm. He would occasionally cast [Keen Edge] onto his dagger then try something similar on the pebble. No matter how hard he tried he couldn¡¯t add an edge to the pebble, even on the ridges that were already sharp. As he slowly attempted to push the mana from his arm onto the pebble, the gate for the village came into view. Only, this time the gate was completely different. Where there used to be a simple, if heavily enchanted, wooden gate and palisade, there was now a stone column on each side of a massive metal gate. Scaffolding was still up on the wall as it was slowly being converted from wood to stone using the previous palisade as a frame. The path leading up to the village was still well maintained and made of simple dirt, but where before there was a lazy guard giving visitors a quick once over there was now a large and intimidating man who stopped and asked each person a question or questions as they passed. People were lined up and it appeared as if they were quite used to the process by now as the village residents were displaying something to the guard as they passed by. What created the line at the gate wasn¡¯t the guard stopping each entrant. Nor was it the afternoon rush local folks from outlying homes coming in to shop or for lunch. What really slowed down the line was the twenty or thirty wagons with the golden hand sigil of the Norvos Merchant Guild embossed on their sides. Lucas and Stan got into line at the end, but it had slowed down significantly as each wagon was thoroughly searched by two more surly looking guards. The wagons were then allowed to approach the gate where the man who asked entrants their questions seemed to be asking significantly more questions than he had asked the individuals who wished to pass. The wagon was eventually allowed to pass then two or three individuals then another wagon. As they slowly worked their way forward, Lucas continued to surreptitiously attempt to force mana into the pebble in his hand. He had a small blanket in his lap and covering his hand so he wasn¡¯t too worried about anybody spotting anything out of the ordinary. Again and again the process repeated. One wagon searched, two people passing. Sometimes they showed a pass and other times they didn¡¯t. Each time Lucas would focus on the pebble and the mana in his hand. He wasn¡¯t trying to force it, just push it out of his arm and around the stone. He knew this was the gate he had to pass to get anywhere with his mana. It was almost like the stone was one of the wagons, slowing down his progress. He imagined the stone being as big as a wagon and blocking the gate for a brief second as he pushed mana out of his hand. Suddenly, there was a drain and Lucas felt all of the mana in his arm coalesce into the palm of his hand before wrapping around the stone in his hand. The stone itself didn¡¯t grow as large as a wagon, thankfully. Instead, the stone grew heavier by almost ten times. It wasn¡¯t much, but the pebble in his hand was now the weight of a rock the size of Lucas¡¯ fist. Along with the new weight in his lap, Lucas received several notifications from the system to indicate that he had finally figured out how to push mana onto different objects.
Congratulations!
You have learned the skill Mana Control
Placing a square peg into a round hole is only impossible if you give up. By gathering a precise amount of mana and focusing it externally onto an object to manifest a specific effect, you have unlocked the skill Mana Control. You may now move your mana within your sphere of influence with greater proficiency.
Mana Control Level 1: Progress 1%
(Experience rewards for all levels gained in skill deferred until full System Access is acquired)
Congratulations!
You have learned the skill Increase Weight
Who said bigger is better? You can now increase the weight of an inanimate object by imbuing it with your mana. The amount of weight gained, duration of effect, and mana cost are based on the object that is targeted and skill level.
Increase Weight Level 1: Progress 10%
(Experience rewards for all levels gained in skill deferred until full System Access is acquired)
The trick was visualizing something and willing the mana out onto the object. More importantly, Lucas had discovered, was attempting to manifest an effect that was appropriate to the object. Earth was heavy and by trying to make the small pebble in his hand bigger with is inadvertent visualization, he had increased it¡¯s weight. I wonder if I can make things bigger instead of just heavier. Lucas thought to himself as their cart approached the gate. It was finally their turn to enter the village and Lucas was worn out from the constant attempts to force his mana onto the pebble. The effect didn¡¯t last long. This was probably because of the almost insignificant amount of mana that Lucas had used along with the tiny size of the pebble, but he would keep practicing. As they approached the man guarding the gate the guard looked at Stan and spoke with an almost bored tone, ¡°By order of Baron Sucro, the city of Emmit¡¯s Lake, will collect a tax on all goods brought into the city. If you are currently transporting any trade goods please present a list to the clerk and prepare to have your cargo inspected. If you are here to purchase trade goods, you will need to present a [Identification Card] which shows you are a citizen in good standing and have purchased a trader¡¯s license.¡± ¡°We aren¡¯t here to buy or sell,¡± said Stan. ¡°We¡¯re here to report to Captain Jenkins about a gob migration in the Beast Range¡± There was a brief moment of surprise in the guard¡¯s eyes as he realized what Stan had just said before he scowled and replied, ¡°Excursions into the Beast Range are prohibited by anybody who does not have a Hunter¡¯s License on their [Identification Card]. Please present your [Identification Card].¡± ¡°I haven¡¯t needed to use that thing in years,¡± said Stan. ¡°And I can go ahead and tell ya¡¯, I ain¡¯t got a Hunter¡¯s License. I do know the kingdom doesn¡¯t have any authority in the Beast Range and there¡¯s no law that prohibits any man from going into it as they will.¡± The guards grimace grew darker before he responded. ¡°If you don¡¯t have a Hunter¡¯s License then I¡¯ll have to detain you until the captain can talk to you. There¡¯s a fine of 5 gold for unlicensed hunting in the Beast Range for vassals of Baron Sucro.¡± ¡°That¡¯s fine, son, I wanted to talk to Captain Jenkins anyways,¡± said Stan. ¡°Captain Jenkins was let go.¡± Said the guard with an evil smile. ¡°You¡¯ll be interrogated by Captain Smith.¡± The guard then reached to his side and unlatched a bell from his belt. With three quick chimes, two more guards came running out of the guard house that Lucas could see just on the other side of the gate. ¡°Take these two to a holding cell. Confiscate any contraband from the beast range to be used as evidence.¡± There was a brief moment where Stan tensed, almost ready to fight. It passed so quickly that nobody but Lucas, who had sparred with his father many times now, even noticed. The guards at the gate had no idea how close they had just come to a violent and bloody end to their day. ¡°We¡¯ll follow you and speak with your captain. You try to take anything that¡¯s mine and I¡¯ll slit your throat. I¡¯m not a vassal of your Baron Sucro and won¡¯t pay a fine. Son, you stay close.¡± ¡°Threaten one of my men again and we¡¯ll have more than words,¡± said a tall, imposing figure that stepped out of the guard house. He was at least six and a half feet tall and had a wicked battle axe strapped to his back. He wore a uniform similar to the guards, mostly black with red piping on the sides of the pants legs, but where they had chain mail on over theirs he had no armor on at all. Even without armor, Lucas knew that this man was dangerous. He gave of a feeling that reminded Lucas of the Wevil. His sudden appearance probably prevented an escalation between Lucas¡¯ father and Stan, but Lucas still wasn¡¯t happy to see this man. ¡°I agree, though,¡± said the tall captain. ¡°If you aren¡¯t a resident of the city or barony, you aren¡¯t required to pay the fine for hunting in the beast range without a license. You are also prohibited from selling any goods found in the beast range within the barony. Now, what was it that you wanted to speak to me about?¡± Chapter 11.2: The Tax Man Cometh Lucas remained quiet as he and his father followed the new guard captain into his office. The office, still under construction, was attached to the new gatehouse and like the gatehouse was made of the same gray stone. Lucas noticed glyphs drawn in chalk on the inside of the gate that were not carved yet into the stone and activated by an [Enchanter]. They had only been gone a few weeks and yet so much had changed. Lucas noticed work going on inside the village as well, but he didn¡¯t have time to focus on it as they were quickly inside and the door was shut to grant a small amount of privacy. The captain sat behind his desk and shifted a stack of papers, the only thing on the desk aside from a pen and ink well, to the side so that he could lean forward on his elbows and place his chin onto his massive fists. ¡°So, tell me who you are, where you are from if you¡¯re not a resident of the Sucro Barony, and why you think there are gobs migrating,¡± said the large captain without any preamble. ¡°I¡¯m Stan Hunter. I live half a day¡¯s ride from here on the edge of the beast range and didn¡¯t get a notification when the Barony was founded,¡± Stan paused for a moment before continuing. ¡°I know there are gobs migrating,¡± he said with emphasis, ¡°because I saw them and killed about fifty of the damned things.¡± The captain¡¯s eyes narrowed as Stan added emphasis to his words. Obviously, he had not been briefed on the surly [Hunter] when he took over the position. ¡°Well, Mr. Hunter. Let me be the first to welcome you back to Emmit¡¯s Lake and the Sucro Barony. An [Identification Card] is required to purchase goods or services or enter the barony. If you don¡¯t have one, the barony has gone to great expense to have the Adventurer¡¯s Guild bring one of their Identification Orbs and set up a temporary office for the purpose of creating [Identification Card]s for visitors to the city at a reduced cost. ¡°Please stop by the new city hall and present your [Identification Card] to the clerk there. He will check the name on your [Identification Card] against the rolls of Baronial residents. You will need to apply for a license to buy or sell trade goods in the city if you aren¡¯t a resident,¡± said the captain. ¡°Your claim about the gob migration will need to be verified by a licensed hunter before a request from the city will be sent to the Norvos Adventurer¡¯s Guild. If that¡¯s all you have for me, then I will have to ask that you refrain from threatening my guards. I overlooked it this time as you are clearly not aware of the changes to the city and surrounding area and because the guard should not have attempted to confiscate any items without going through the proper procedure. He will be reprimanded,¡± there was a pause before he continued. ¡°Any future infractions of a similar nature will not be taken so lightly,¡± said the captain in an obvious dismissal of both Stan and his claim sat back in his chair and picked up one of the pieces of paper he had set aside when Stan and Lucas had entered. ¡°Before I go,¡± said Stan. ¡°What happened to Captain Jenkins?¡± ¡°Mr. Jenkins,¡± said the new captain with emphasis on the first word, ¡°was released from duty with a handsome bonus for his retirement. Baron Sucro felt that his own people were better suited to manage the transition of a ¡®simple¡¯ village into a center for trade in the kingdom.¡± Stan nodded his head, placed his hand on his son¡¯s shoulder, and headed for the door. Their cart was just outside, having been thoroughly searched by the guards and cleared of any contraband. They both mounted the seat without saying anything and Stan lead their cart towards the inn that they had stayed in previously. As they entered the inn, Lucas noted that not much had changed inside. Blake still stood behind the bar. He was just as large as Lucas remembered and just as bald. Lucas wondered briefly if the man waxed his head since the light seemed to reflect off of his dome with a certain intensity that Lucas didn¡¯t really expect. He spent the briefest of moments inspecting the massive innkeeper before immediately searching the room for his true love. Helga was still as beautiful as he remembered. He wasn¡¯t sure how much time passed while he stared at her working her way through the lunch crowd like a dancer, but the negotiations between his father and Blake were over and they headed back out of the inn. The cart was gone, but Lucas assumed that it was in the stables since Stan didn¡¯t panic. They just turned to the right and made their way down the street on foot. The streets were relatively dry. Made of packed earth instead of expensive cobblestones like one would find in a true city in near the center of the kingdom. Lucas made sure to stay near his father as they walked down the street, past the fountain that he and the other children had played at on his last visit, and up the main street towards one of the areas with the most activity. Lucas had never seen the town hall, now a city hall, before, but it appeared as if the new baron was working furiously to upgrade the facilities in the village. Outside there was scaffolding and lots of banging and sawing as a crew worked on expanding the hall. The town hall was still functional with a set up steps leading to a large room where meetings could take place. To the side was a hall that led to a set of four offices.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. Stan walked to the first office and rapped on the door frame. The door was open and a small man sat behind a desk covered in paperwork. ¡°Excuse me,¡± said Stan. ¡°I need to speak with whoever¡¯s in charge of the tax rolls. The captain of the guard sent me to speak to him.¡± The small man looked up and spoke with a nasally, almost whiny, voice. ¡°That¡¯ll be Mr. Crinshaw. He¡¯s in the last door on the right.¡± He then went back to his enormous stack of paperwork without giving Stan and Lucas a second thought. Stan and Lucas stepped back and headed down the hall past two more offices before stopping at the last one. This door was closed so they had to knock and wait. After a few seconds, Stan knocked again. Ten more seconds later with no response and Stan reached out and tested the knob. The door opened without resistance to reveal a broom cupboard that had been converted into an office. There was a desk, but the person sitting behind it must have had to climb either over or under it to get behind it. It was either that or it was put together with the poor guy behind it already and he lived there now, thought Lucas. Their intrusion went unnoticed as the man was dead asleep with his face down. The desk was orderly and neat, with not a single item out of place. The pens were placed in their holder, in descending order of length, next to the ink well. There was a small folder placed in a rack designed for folders to sit. There was just one thing out of place about the desk. Sitting in the center, in pride of place, was a small name plate that was poorly made from a block of wood and lopsided. On it, the name Mr. Crinshaw carved by either a dyslexic adult or a small child. The C and S were backwards, and the name started at the bottom of the plate and ended at the top, running at a diagonal. Stan waited for a moment and then loudly cleared his throat and then waited for a few more seconds because there was still no response from the sleeping clerk. With a small sigh, Stan pulled something out of his pocket and threw it at the man. The small pebble, almost perfect for a sling, bounced off of the man¡¯s head and fell to the floor behind him. The man came awake almost instantly and with a violent outburst. ¡°I was on my mandated break! I only had my eyes closed for five minutes!¡± he yelled before realizing that his visitor wasn¡¯t his boss but was instead Stan. ¡°Oh! Excuse me, I didn¡¯t hear the door.¡± ¡°I could tell,¡± replied Stan. ¡°I was told to report to you so you could check my [Identification Card] against the tax rolls to prove I don¡¯t live in your barony.¡± ¡°Oh, I can definitely do that. It¡¯s a fairly common request for the Norvos Merchant Guild. Please, give me your [Identification Card] and I¡¯ll update it to show your citizenship status,¡± said the small clerk. Stan handed over the card and the clerk just stood staring at it for a moment before handing it back to Stan. ¡°You¡¯re all set,¡± he said. ¡°You are not currently a citizen of the barony.. On the back you will now notice the Sucro coat of arms next to the Royal crest with a mark through it indicating you have been registered as a non-resident in our barony. You are prohibited from buying or selling any of the items from the beast range and will be assessed an additional tax for any items you buy or sell in the city,¡± he said as if he was reading from a memorized script. ¡°For large purchases or trade goods, you will need to purchase a [Trade License]. The entire list of items that require a license is available upon request.¡± ¡°How much is a [Hunter¡¯s License]?¡± asked Stan. Selling items from the beast range was his primary source of income. ¡°A [Hunter''s License] costs 25 gold and is good for 5 years. It also provides you with the same benefits as a [Trade License] so you save 5 gold.¡± ¡°That¡¯s ridiculous!¡± said Stan. ¡°That¡¯s more than a year¡¯s wages for most folk. I¡¯ll just go to Norvos instead. It¡¯s only five days by cart. So this [Hunter''s License] only gives me ¡®permission¡¯ to hunt in the beast range and trade here in the village?¡± asked Stan. ¡°Yes, though most who need to purchase a License are residents who are prohibited from trading directly with Norvos,¡± said the clerk. ¡°I¡¯m not certain how you aren¡¯t a resident. Anybody who travels here rather than Norvos probably lives close enough to be included in the baronial plot. Can you tell me where you live?¡± ¡°No,¡± said Stan. He turned around and guided Lucas from the office. As they exited the town hall and turned to head back up the street there was a commotion behind them and a shout. ¡°Stan Hunter!¡± came a loud voice that seemed to cause everybody in the street to pause what they were doing. Even the constant sawing and banging from the construction stopped for a moment. From out of the crowd came three of the town guards. The didn¡¯t seem to be in any sort of foul mood and the surely weren¡¯t here to arrest Stan since none of them had their weapons drawn or were particularly tense. The lead guard stopped in front of Stan where he came to attention. Lucas didn¡¯t know what was going on, but he felt that this was the kind of respect his father deserved. ¡°Mr. Hunter,¡± began the guard. He wasn¡¯t shouting like he was earlier, but he didn¡¯t seem to have any volume except for loud. ¡°Baron Sucro heard that you were visiting the city and has sent us to invite you to speak with him.¡± ¡°I reckon I don¡¯t really have time to speak with your baron. Me n¡¯ my boy were just fixin¡¯ to head to the inn for the night and head home first thing in the morning,¡± replied Stan. ¡°I understand, sir, but he insists on speaking to you before you leave. I believe there was some mention of a goblin migration that you witnessed,¡± said the loud guard. He tried to whisper the words goblin migration but only managed to add emphasis to them instead. Half of the people walking by stopped and stared before hurrying off to, no doubt, stock up on supplies. A goblin migration was serious business this far from the army. Stan let out the longest sigh that Lucas had ever heard before nodding his head. ¡°I guess we¡¯ll be speakin¡¯ to your baron then.¡± ¡°Excellent! Please follow me,¡± said the loud guard before making a parade ground about face and heading off towards the other direction. Chapter 11.3: The Tax Man Cometh Stan and Lucas entered the new baronial residence with their full three-man escort. The home was technically complete but there was still work being done on the grounds and fence. The new baron had taken over a section of the town near the northeastern section of the town. His new home was situated on a hill that had a great view of the lake over the palisade that sat approximately 500 meters away. The home was extremely large by the standards of the village and there was an open room with no purpose other than for people to stand in as soon as they came through the door. The loud guard asked them to wait and wandered off. Lucas stood in boredom trying his best not to reach out and touch the flowers in the vase. They were Morning Dewdrops and were incredibly rare in the area. They would slowly filter any water they were placed in and the petals would gradually change colors near the stem and radiating out as it deposited the toxins in the petals. The stems were used in certain cleansing potions. He bet he could mix it with a couple of the plants he picked up in the beast range and level up his achievement by a couple of more points if only he hadn¡¯t promised not to try to mix any more potions until Randolph said it was okay. He wasn¡¯t sure why someone would put it in such a nice house. As they filtered the water they absorbed they let an odorless set of chemicals that caused anybody near them to become anxious and irritable. His [Herb Lore] skill had kicked in as soon as he walked in. He figured it must be one of the oddities of the new baron. He wasn¡¯t sure what a baron was, but he was certain that they were odd just from the changes he¡¯d seen around town and the fact that he was trying to make people pay him to keep doing their jobs. They weren¡¯t waiting long before the loud guard returned with a man dressed in a jacket, vest, and tight-fitting pants. The entire outfit was the same red, almost maroon, of the piping on the soldier¡¯s legs with a black vest and gold buttons. The entire ensemble was definitely attention grabbing. ¡°The baron will see you now,¡± said the poorly dressed man. He turned around without another word and proceeded deeper into the house. Lucas followed along and tried not to break anything. The house didn¡¯t have a lot of furniture in it yet, but he still saw more than his fair share of vases and paintings. As they worked their way deeper into the house, the sounds of the outside world became distant, the almost perpetual beating and sawing going on throughout the city faded and they came to an office that was almost serene in its quiet. Sitting behind the biggest desk that Lucas had ever seen was the fattest man that Lucas had ever seen. He had to be almost three of Randolph, and Randolph was twice the size of his father. His face made him look almost piglike with beady eyes and a small, upturned nose. ¡°Your guests, my lord,¡± said the poorly dressed man. ¡°Thank you, Robert,¡± said the baron. The poorly dressed man then pushed the doors to and stood just inside the room and to the right of the door. Lucas was sort of surprised when words came out of the baron¡¯s mouth instead of a loud ¡°squee¡±, and he wondered briefly if the baron was a pig that had somehow gained a class. He had read about animals becoming human in many of his mother¡¯s books and even about beast-men, but he didn¡¯t say anything because that was something that he figured his father would get on to him about. ¡°You must be Stan Hunter,¡± said the baron. ¡°Please, have a seat. Would you like something to drink?¡± ¡°No, thank you.¡± Replied Stan. ¡°The proper form of address for a baron is, ¡®My Lord¡¯¡± said the poorly dressed man whom Lucas now knew was named Robert, but whom Lucas also decided that he didn¡¯t like so he was going to keep calling him the poorly dressed man. ¡°Thank you,¡± said Stan but he didn¡¯t correct himself. ¡°Yes, well you can dispense with the formalities for the time being,¡± said the baron. ¡°It¡¯s just me and you here, and of course your son. Luke wasn¡¯t it?¡± asked the baron. ¡°Lucas, sir my lord¡­sir,¡± replied Lucas. He didn¡¯t know why the man wanted the extra words, especially since his father had spent the afternoon proving that this man wasn¡¯t actually their baron, but his father had taught him manners and it was always good manners to say yes and no sir, especially when correcting an adult. ¡°Just, ¡®My Lord¡¯ or ¡®Sir¡¯ is fine, Lucas,¡± said Baron Sucro. ¡°Now, Stan, the reason I asked you here today is because you came highly recommended. It¡¯s my understanding that just a few short weeks ago you slew a new group of bandits that had set up in the area and that you are one of the most proficient hunters of the beast range in the barony.¡± Stan didn¡¯t reply just waited for the baron to get on with his pitch. He¡¯d been through similar and knew exactly what this was. ¡°Well, one of my mandates is to turn the city into a profitable center of trade and source of tax revenue for the kingdom. Imagine the crown¡¯s surprise when it realized the ¡®village¡¯,¡± with the word village said with extra emphasis and two air quotes, ¡°of Emmit¡¯s Lake was home to over a thousand people and a guild certified alchemist and enchanter. All of whom traded some of the most expensive luxury items in the kingdom without paying a cent of tax to the crown. ¡°You can rest assured, we will have the city up to snuff in no time, but that takes money. Money doesn¡¯t just appear on trees, unless you happen to be in the beast range,¡± said the baron with a chuckle at his own joke. ¡°What I need is a competent group of [Hunter]s that can work directly for me, and by extension the crown, to harvest the many treasures found in the beast range. In return, they¡¯ll receive training and pay commensurate with the risk they undertake.¡± ¡°I hope you get where I¡¯m going with this, Stan. You are the best [Hunter] around, and I want the best. I would like you to train this group of [Hunter]s for me and lead them. In return, I will be more than happy to reimburse you for your time. I might even be able to grant you a knighthood or get your boy into one of the academies in the capitol,¡± he finished as if he had offered something truly special. ¡°No, thank you,¡± said Stan. ¡°I thought we were here to talk about the gob migration.¡± The baron¡¯s relaxed attitude suddenly shifted with Stan¡¯s blunt refusal. This time when he spoke his voice came out a little bit of an edge to it. ¡°The gob migration is definitely something I am concerned about. I understand you killed fifty of the dirty little monsters by yourself. That¡¯s impressive for someone so far from the capitol. We will surely discuss the gob migration in a bit, but my primary purpose for inviting you here today was to hire you to train and lead my [Hunter]s,¡± said the baron. ¡°You didn¡¯t even ask about the pay and the offer to have young Lucas enrolled in one of the academies is an honor generally reserved for nobility and individuals who have served for at least a decade in the army. It is not something I offer lightly, and the position is not something I would generally be able to accept a refusal about.¡± The baron waited expectantly for Stan to respond. Clearly, he thought that a little bit of intimidation was going to work. Lucas could tell from the stiff posture that his father had that it had not. His father was pissed. Lucas was only glad that it was at the baron and not him.Stolen novel; please report. ¡°I¡¯m happy with the way things are,¡± said Stan brusquely. ¡°I don¡¯t answer to anybody, I get to spend time with my family, and I get to explore the beast range. The only thing that¡¯s changed recently is your ridiculous [Hunter''s License], and if taxing the people under you out of work is how you plan to run your barony, I¡¯d just as soon trade with Norvos.¡± The baron did not take the answer well. This isn¡¯t going to end well, thought Lucas. The baron¡¯s big, fat cheeks got bright red and his eyes narrowed in anger. Lucas could tell that the man was about to lose control and planned on where to get out of the way if he called his guards on his father. ¡°I see. You wished to speak about the goblin migration and the imminent threat it poses to the city. I spoke with my guard captain and he was indifferent to the threat. He believes that we can handle it if the migration should come to pass. Thinking about it now, though, I¡¯m tempted to give credence to your claims and treat this as a threat to the well-being of the city,¡± the baron finished and paused for a moment to let this thought sink in. He smiled an evil smile as he continued. ¡°As you know, I can draft individuals with specific skills into the guard in certain situations. A report of a potential gob migration by a [Hunter] as skilled as yourself definitely qualifies,¡± said the baron. ¡°Yes,¡± said Stan without hesitation. ¡°You can draft individuals for a term of service. As a tier 2 [Hunter] with two or more maxed level class skills, I would qualify for a rank equivalent to a knight, a private residence, a valet, a unit of no less than 100 men under my direct command, two days of leave per month, and a base pay of 50 gold pieces per month with an additional 50 gold pieces per month, as this would qualify as hazardous combat pay. You may draft me for a maximum of six months for a potential migration or dungeon outbreak and must petition my lord for an extension of that as I am a citizen of the kingdom but not a citizen of your barony and not under your direct command.¡± The baron was taken aback by Stan¡¯s sudden shift from his normal country drawl to the precise, well enunciated, statement. It was almost like a different person. Lucas had heard his father talk like this before, generally when dealing with people who refused to listen to him or when teaching Lucas, which sometimes was the same thing. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s...,¡± the baron stopped for a second, clearly flummoxed. ¡°Robert is that correct, a hundred gold per month and all that other stuff?¡± he asked. His speech was fast and he had lost the cultured tone he had employed until this moment. ¡°Yes, my lord, if what he says is true about his rank and skills, then he would be entitled to at least that much,¡± replied the poorly dressed man. ¡°Look, Stan, I want you to work for me. I don¡¯t think I¡¯m going to draft you into the army just yet, but what will it take? Clearly you can see that I¡¯m serious about having you train my men and if I do have to draft you and write your lord to have him sign you over, I will.¡± Stan waited for a moment before replying. ¡°I want housing here in the city, private, with a garden and seclusion for my wife and son. Pay¡¯s 50 gold a month ¡®n 50 percent of anything my team brings back from the forest. My son gets admitted to the Royal Academy, your baronship gets one every 10 years n¡¯ he¡¯ll have your first. I have a home that needs to be taken care of. You¡¯ll pay for a licensed enchanter to come out to my place and ward it. This¡¯ll include at least a phase shift for the house and barn,¡± said Stan. ¡°I¡¯ll train your men to be [Hunter]s, and I¡¯ll turn over command to one of them when I¡¯m done. I¡¯ll work for you for no more than a year. All of this is smoke up a donkey¡¯s ass if my wife don¡¯t agree. She likes it out of the city and she might get ornery about it,¡± Stan finished. The baron¡¯s eyes grew wide as Stan¡¯s demands started and continued to widen until Lucas thought his eyes would pop out of his head. ¡°You think pretty highly of yourself Mr. Hunter,¡± said the baron. ¡°You think pretty highly of me,¡± replied Stan throwing the baron¡¯s earlier words about having the best [Hunter] train his men. ¡°10 gold a month, a free hunter¡¯s license, you may collect 5 percent of the spoils from your hunter¡¯s work in the beast range,¡± replied the baron. As soon as this statement came out of his mouth there was a gasp of surprise and a sudden exclamation from the poorly dressed man. ¡°My lord, surely you don¡¯t plan to give in to this peas¡­¡± the poorly dressed man stopped talking immediately as soon as Baron Sucro raised his left hand. The baron continued as if he hadn¡¯t been interrupted by his manservant, ¡°You will be given a home in the city that meets with your approval. Your son will be given a letter of recommendation to the royal academy, but he will not receive my admission token. I will endeavor to have him placed in at least one of the academies,¡± he stopped here to clear his throat. ¡°The [Enchanter] is yours, but half the cost of the enchantments will be deducted from your pay over the first year. You will work for me until one of your men meets with my approval to take over. I¡¯m sure your wife will agree, but if she has any demands of her own then I¡¯m sure we can work something out,¡± he finished. Stan waited a moment before replying, ¡°40 gold a month, 40 percent, 2 years hard limit, but I¡¯ll try to make sure there are multiple candidates for you to choose from, the admission to the Royal Academy is non-negotiable.¡± The baron wasn¡¯t pleased with Stan¡¯s counter and Lucas could tell that he was barely holding his temper in check. Lucas wondered how different this would have been if his father had been the baron¡¯s subject. ¡°I¡¯ll pay 15 gold a month, 20 percent, 5 years and you can have the token to the Royal Academy if your son meets the minimum requirements for admission by his 12th birthday,¡± responded the Baron knowing full well that most children didn¡¯t get system access until age 14. ¡°My family gains access late. I didn¡¯t get it till I was 17. My wife didn¡¯t get it till she was 16. He has until his 18th birthday to meet the requirements. Gold is tight in the barony, so I¡¯ll take your 15 gold a month, 35 percent of what we bring back, 2 years hard limit but I can go in 1 if I can get you someone to tier 2. Speakin¡¯ of that [Hunter''s License] that you started, I want a baronial writ granting my family the rights to unrestricted trade for all goods that are considered legal to trade without royal approval by the crown in perpetuity in this barony,¡± Stan said. Lucas could tell that the two men were getting closer to an agreement. He¡¯d seen his father haggle before but never like this. He wondered what was so important about the Royal Academy. ¡°10 gold a month, 25 percent, 3 years hard limit but if you can get me someone to tier 2 that I approve of you can leave after 2. Royal Academy token if he meets the requirements by 16 and a baronial writ giving you, personally, limited trading rights in the barony for goods not under my seal,¡± the baron barely replied without eveing waiting to think over the offer. ¡°I¡¯m about done negotiating, Baron,¡± said Stan. ¡°15 gold a month, 30 percent, I¡¯ll take your hard limit of 3 years of service with an option to leave after 2, Royal Academy admission if Lucas here meets the requirements by his 16th birthday,¡± he continued. ¡°We get a house in the city, bought and paid for with a deed and exemption from taxes on the property. Last, my family may trade without restriction or tax on all legal goods with the exception of items that are restricted by the crown. It¡¯ll be tied to the bloodline and doesn¡¯t expire, I can pass it to my son and he can pass it to his son, n¡¯ so on n¡¯ so forth. I¡¯ll also work for the barony for missions of C to A rank at half the price of the adventurer¡¯s guild for an additional 3 years after I complete my service, and my wife still has to agree to all of this,¡± Stan finished his list and crossed his arms over his chest. The baron waited for a moment before replying. ¡°I¡¯ll have a clerk draw up the agreement. Welcome to my service Mr. Hunter. How long will you need to get home and square things away with your wife?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll leave tomorrow ¡®n be back in two days to sign the agreement. I¡¯ll need a couple of weeks to get our property ready. If you have one of your men start huntin¡¯ properties in the vill¡­city for me and my family we can be packed up and here by the end of the month. I can take then enchanter back with me after I sign the agreement, and he shouldn¡¯t need but a week or two to get the glyphs laid down.¡± ¡°Excellent, I¡¯ll see you in two days to sign the contract. Now, if you¡¯ll excuse me I have a great deal of work to do to make sure I have an adequate selection of recruits for you as well as for the increase to the guard. Robert will see you out,¡± said the baron with a fake smile. The poorly dressed man escorted Lucas and Stan back to the door without saying a word, he obviously disapproved of Stan and how he had spoken to the baron. With the door of the estate slamming closed behind them with a dull thud and the sounds of construction ringing in their ears, Stan and Lucas headed back to the inn to get some sleep. Tomorrow was going to be an interesting day when Stan told his wife exactly what he¡¯d agreed to. Interlude: Obligatory Monologue Baron Sucro sat behind his desk as Robert walked the [Hunter} and his brat out of the office and managed not to scream. In fact, anybody who didn¡¯t know the newly anointed baron would believe that he was perfectly calm and happy with the deal he had just struck with the [Hunter]. The baron was completely relaxed, no signs of tension or anger remained on his face. The florid cheeks were no longer quite as flushed as when he was negotiating, and his hands were flat on his desk. With a mighty grunt, the baron pushed back his chair and waddled over to the cabinet that contained a variety of alcoholic beverages. While Baron Sucro did not generally imbibe in strong drink, he felt that now was an appropriate time to make an exception and filled a small glass with dwarvish whiskey. He took a small sip and enjoyed the burning sensation as it worked its way down his gullet. It only took a few moments before the tell-tale warmth began to spread out from his core. He tried to focus on the flavor of the whiskey in his mouth and forget about how that peasant had spoken to him, but the [Hunter]¡¯s tanned face and dismissive tone began to run through his head again and again. A few minutes after leaving, Robert returned to stand quietly to the side of the door inside the office, but he didn¡¯t say anything. He had not been with the baron long but had an accurate picture of just what the baron¡¯s mood was. Being recently elevated to the nobility, the baron was very much aware of any slight to his honor and the [Hunter] had not shown the slightest bit of face to the new baron. The baron took one more sip and suddenly threw the glass of whiskey at the door. It narrowly missed Robert¡¯s head before striking the frame and shattering into hundreds of pieces and splashing whiskey all over the carpet, floor, and manservant. ¡°How dare he! How DARE he!¡± exclaimed the baron. ¡°He came into my home and dared to treat me as if I was some low life merchant haggling over the price of bread!¡± he continued while he began to pace. ¡°I am a baron! I am not some two-bit merchant. I have the authority of the crown, I have earned this position through years of planning and work. I deserve to be treated with the respect I am due! What gives him the right speak to me like we are equals?! No, like he¡¯s better than me. ¡°I swear..,¡± said the Baron. ¡°that he will pay dearly for his lack of respect. Once he has served his purpose, I will destroy him. He thinks he can force my hand because of some stupid regulation about the levy. He thinks he can take my son¡¯s place at the Royal Academy? What gives him the temerity to think that his bastard deserves to set foot in any academy, let alone the Royal Academy?¡± he asked rhetorically. Robert surreptitiously bent over and began to gather the fragments of the whiskey glass, expertly gathering them into a small handkerchief without slicing his fingers open on the sharp shards. He wasn¡¯t stupid enough to interrupt the baron while he was like this. ¡°I want you¡­,¡± began the baron before taking a few calming breaths. ¡°to find out everything you can about that fucking [Hunter] and his family. If he has enemies, I want to know who they are. If he has debts, buy them. Most importantly, I need to know how he isn¡¯t my subject. I was told that all of the settled land near this piss poor excuse for a city would belong to me.¡± ¡°Yes, my lord,¡± replied Robert. He was just as angry as the baron about how the [Hunter] had spoken and acted while in the presence of the baron. The new baron may have been common born, but he was now a member of the peerage and was entitled to a certain level of respect. That the simple [Hunter] had dared to refuse the baron¡¯s offer of employment and had spoken so crassly to the noble was an affront to all members of the nobility, not just the baron. As the manservant cleaned, the enraged noble continued to fume about the treatment he received. ¡°As a matter of fact, go get me the tax clerk. I need to know why that morken eating [Hunter] wasn¡¯t included in the rolls of my citizenry,¡± he said after a few more moments of heavy breathing. ¡°Yes, my lord,¡± replied Robert who tucked the shards of glass away in one of the pockets of his coat and stepped smartly out of the office door. ¡°And send Captain Smith to me!¡± yelled the baron to the retreating servant. A faint, ¡°Yes, my lord,¡± could be heard through the thick doors to the office. The baron waited for fifteen minutes. His anger wasn¡¯t abated, but he was more calm than previously. A new glass of whiskey sat on the desk in front of him and he took a sip as a hesitant knock sounded through his office. ¡°Enter!¡± he yelled. ¡°You..you asked to see my, my lord?¡± asked the small clerk that had directed Stan and Lucas to Mr. Crinshaw earlier that day. ¡°Yes. I wish to know who Stan Hunter is and how he was not included in the rolls of the citizenry for the barony,¡± said the baron. ¡°My understanding was that there were no settled lands between the border and Norvos that weren¡¯t within my writ.¡± ¡°That¡­¡±the small man swallowed. ¡°that should be true, my lord. The village is the only populated area between Norvos and the border. The beast range marks your eastern border and the Atrondul River is your western border. I¡¯m afraid we don¡¯t know where Mr. Hunter lives, but we can find out. It¡¯s¡­It¡¯s possible that he has built a home somewhere in the kingdom without permission, trespassing or,¡± he cleared his throat again, ¡°squatting, as it were, or he could have cleared a section of the beast range to live in.¡± ¡°How do I make him one of my subjects?¡± ¡°If he¡¯s squatting on another noble¡¯s lands, you could find the area where he¡¯s living and inform the noble who¡¯s land he is on. He will be evicted and maybe even fined for damage to the land,¡± replied the small clerk. ¡°That¡¯s a good idea. I could offer to intervene on his behalf and prevent him from being fined or imprisoned. I could offer to let him rent a piece of land from me and once he became a citizen he would no longer be entitled to such a ridiculous¡­¡± the baron stopped for a moment and looked sharply at the small clerk. ¡°You said he could have cleared a section of the beast range?¡± ¡°Yes, my lord. Though it is unlikely,¡± said the clerk. ¡°Once he clears the section, he has to inhabit it for a set amount of time before the system will recognize his authority. Then he would have to make a formal request to the kingdom to be included in the territory of the kingdom. We would have known if someone did that because it¡¯s a separate file and extremely rare. There haven¡¯t been any since the McCallister¡¯s formally joined the kingdom almost one-hundred years ago. Plus, the people who do that generally claim an area larger than the barony and are traditionally granted the rank of Marquis. It takes a small army to prevent encroachment from the beast range, my lord.¡±The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°In two days, I¡¯m sending an enchanter to his property. I need you to send someone with the [Cartography] and [Survey] skills and have an accurate location of his property mapped,¡± said the baron. ¡°Yes, my lord,¡± said the clerk. ¡°I¡¯ll ensure that our best man is on it.¡± ¡°Good, you¡¯re dismissed. Get back to me as soon as you know whose property he¡¯s squatting on,¡± said the baron. The small clerk bowed and fled from the room before the baron could find fault with something he had said or done. As he was exiting the office, Captain Smith was just reaching up to knock on the door with Robert behind and to his left. The small clerk adroitly dodged the large guard captain and scurried down the hall. Captain Smith chuckled and stepped into the room. He quickly bowed and waited for the baron to acknowledge his presence. He stood at ease as the baron walked over to a cabinet and pulled an ornate key from inside his voluminous robes of office. The key lit up in Captain Smith¡¯s sight and he knew that it would burn the hand of anybody who attempted to use it while the bound owner was still alive. ¡°Lock the door, Smith,¡± said the baron without even glancing over at the captain. Captain Smith didn¡¯t let his frustration at being ignored show on his face but instead stepped smartly over to the door and secured it while activating all three of his skills for detecting stealth and deception. Nothing lit up in his sight and he went back to standing ready and watching the baron. Captain smith knew what was coming after that order. The baron inserted the overly large key into the cabinet on the wall and unlocked it, releasing the enchantment that held the metal reinforced cabinet together. A second tier sapper mage could probably get the cabinet open without the key, but he would thoroughly destroy anything inside. Smith knew that it was a loan from the viscount and that Baron Sucro would need to return it after he could commission his own safe. Inside the cabinet was a set of red velvet lined shelves. On it were several items of great worth, several thousand gold coins worth of gold cards, a small bag of uncut jewels, and one shelf devoted to expensive and rare alchemical potions. Captain Jenkins had seen all of this before and his heart still thumped hard in his chest when he realized that the small vial, almost as long as his pinky finger, held an Elixir of Titan¡¯s Strength. He could sell that and live off of the proceeds for years or ingest it and maybe quadruple his strength stat permanently. It was the least powerful and expensive of the twelve known true Elixirs but still out of the grasp of any but the most powerful and wealthy, and he hoped to find out one day how a newly ennobled baron had gotten his grubby hands on it. Baron Sucro barely hesitated he turned the key around in his hands and held it backwards with the flared end towards the back of the cabinet and the teeth in his hand. He then inserted the key into a spot behind the top shelf where there was no hole and turned it ninety degrees to the right then back to the left. There was a click and a hiss and a small hidden compartment was revealed. The baron reached in and withdrew a small brown artifact. It looked like a piece of beef jerky mounted to an overly large copper piece and was small enough to fit in the palm of the baron¡¯s pudgy hands. That item alone was worth both of their lives if it were found in their possession by any of the holy orders or kingdom¡¯s guilds. Made from the severed tongue from an [Oathbreaker] who disclosed a secret and was given a traitor¡¯s burial, the artifact would prevent all forms of scrying or eavesdropping. ¡°Stop daydreaming, Smith, and get over here,¡± snapped the baron as he set the item on the desk and pulled out a small dagger. He quickly pricked his finger and allowed a drop of blood to fall on the tongue before wiping the dagger on his robes and presenting it to the guard captain hilt first. Captain Smith did the same and handed the dagger back, waiting for the baron to initiate the conversation and explain why this particular artifact needed to be used. ¡°Do you know about the viscount¡¯s advance team and his plans for the Norvos Merchant¡¯s Guild?¡± asked Baron Sucro. ¡°No, sir. I wasn¡¯t privy to any plan about an advance team. I am aware of the viscount¡¯s plan to cut the Norvos Merchant Guild off from the supply of rare materials coming from the southern beast range,¡± replied Captain Smith. ¡°Hrmph¡­Well, the viscount sent a team of men down to intercept shipments to and from the village from the Norvos Merchant¡¯s Guild. From what I understand, he was planning on having increasing ''bandit'' attacks add pressure to the Norvos Merchant''s Guild on top of the economic pressure that our restrictions were adding. He was going to have the crown ask him to intercede on its behalfand work to destroy them while they were paying him to do it.¡± ¡°So, what happened?¡± asked Smith. ¡°That fucking [Hunter] is what happened. He somehow took out an entire team of trained killers. Men picked especially for their service to the viscount over the years with decades of experience working behind enemy lines,¡± replied Baron Sucro. He was becoming worked up and spittle flew from his mouth as he talked about the [Hunter]. ¡°The team only got one shipment and most of it was recovered by the locals,¡± said the baron. ¡°The [Hunter] didn¡¯t strike me as being too powerful, I doubt he could take out one of the viscount¡¯s griffin squads,¡± said Smith ¡°His what?¡± ¡°What you¡¯re describing is one of the viscount¡¯s special teams. He put the first one together thirty of forty years ago and led it himself. Name comes from the fact that they would fly over enemy lines on a griffin with a [Slowfall] spell. They¡¯d jump off and live behind the lines assassinating critical targets and destroying supply lines, I¡¯ve met a few of them over the years in the city and they are always a hassle to arrest. They never spend more than a night in jail.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t care who they are or what kind of animal they are named after!¡± screamed the baron. ¡°They can all go fuck a griffin for all I care. All I know is that I was tasked with interrupting the trade of the Norvos merchant guild and that [Hunter] has already interfered with the viscount¡¯s plans once.¡± ¡°What I mean, my lord,¡± said Smith with obvious annoyance. ¡°is that he probably had help that we don¡¯t know about. That¡¯s the only possible explanation. These aren¡¯t just bandits, these are highly trained combatants.¡± ¡°Well, the [Hunter] is apparently second tier, and he¡¯s probably high second tier because he has two max level class skills,¡± said the baron. ¡°That might explain it if he beat one of them, or two, but this would have had to be at least a four-man team. There¡¯s no way even a second tier hunter beats all four griffins in a straight up fight.¡± ¡°Well then you now have two tasks. First, begin to lay plans to incarcerate the [Hunter]. I want him brought up on charges that will have him sent to a dungeon as fodder and have his family placed in slave collars. We are already working on getting him placed under my authority. Once he is, he will begin training my hunters. He has two to three years to complete the task. I want you to be ready in one and a half years to present a perfect case to a magistrate. There will need to be enough legitimate evidence that even if a [Truthsayer] or a Truth Serum is used he will still be damned. ¡°And now, your second task is to find out who helped the [Hunter]. If it¡¯s someone who can be disposed of, I want you to get rid of them. If it isn¡¯t, then come find me,¡± the baron said. ¡°That should be plenty of time my lord. Does he have any vices that you know of?¡± asked Smith. ¡°Do I look like I fucking know the intimate details of every peasant that traipses through this shithole? That¡¯s what I pay you so much for. Now, go find out!¡± screamed the baron. All sense of decorum was lost now. He picked up the artifact and replaced it, sealing the cabinet/safe back with the key and walking over to his drink cabinet yet again to refill his drink. There was a splash left, but he felt that the calming effects of the dwarvish whiskey were not doing as good a job as they should. As the captain exited the office, scowl hidden from the baron¡¯s sight, the baron began to mutter under his breath once again. ¡°I¡¯m going to find enjoy putting the slave collar on that [Hunter] more than anything I¡¯ve enjoyed in the past decade. Putting the collar on his shitty son will be the icing on the cake. He thinks he can snatch my admission token to the Royal Academy from my own son¡¯s hands like he deserves it? He thinks that he can negotiate with me because he has a second tier class? A second tier basic class is still a basic fucking class. ¡°I¡¯ve got an advanced class! I¡¯ll show him who¡¯s better when I advance to the second tier. I¡¯ll make him watch as I collar his son and rape his wife. No, I¡¯ll give his wife to my dogs to rape while his fucking eunuch son watches!¡± The baron took a deep sip of the whiskey as the sounds of construction filtered through the opened office doors. Scenes of just what he would do to the [Hunter] and his family played through his head, helping to calm him down. His plans were set, even if they had hit a rut in the road. He would recover. He would come out on top. He always did. Chapter 12.1: Moving Lucas was scared. The attack had come suddenly and without warning. His father was lying unconscious in a pool of his own blood and his void cat, the feline partner who dived into a river to try to save his life, had run away at the first sign of violence like a coward. There was no ogre, dragon, or troll in the beast range that could match the level of danger that was emanating from his mother as she stood over his unconscious father holding a frying pan with a bent handle. Lucas was pretty sure that if his father didn¡¯t get some pretty serious healing very soon, his father was going to die. Lucas was completely sure that if he tried to interfere with this fight in any way, he might die. Lucas decided very quickly that this was a grown-up problem, and that life would be okay if it was just him and his mother. He liked her more anyways since she never beat him with a stick. He carefully activated [Stealth] and worked his way out of the kitchen just in time to see his mother reach down and lay her left hand over his father¡¯s misshapen jaw. A green glow from her hearth magic was all that could be seen from the dim living room, but Lucas didn¡¯t stop to see what happened. He continued to slowly work his way out of the living room and towards his bedroom. The severity of the situation was reinforced when he received a message.
Congratulations!
Stealth has leveled up.
Stealth Level 5 > Level 6
Stealth Level 6: Progress 0%
(Experience rewards for all levels gained in skill deferred until full System Access is acquired)
The fact that it increased a whole level from just that one use showed just how angry his mother was, previously it was at 18% and he had not really used it much in the beast range. Had she turned her gaze to him, there was no telling what would have happened. Plus, Lucas was pretty sure they were out of frying pans now as he heard a quickly shouted, ¡°Wait, darlin¡¯, I can exp¡­¡± from his father followed by a loud ¡°Clang¡± as the frying pan bounced off of his father¡¯s face and landed on the floor in the living room with no handle. Lucas quietly opened the door to his room and stepped through but left it open enough to hear what was going on in the kitchen. Since his mom had healed his dad, he was pretty sure that she wasn¡¯t going to kill him, and he wanted to know what they were going to say. Lucas was excited about moving to town and seeing all the kids there more often, but he was sad that he wouldn¡¯t be able to use his skills as often as he was now. He wasn¡¯t sure why his mom was so angry. In fact, he could never remember his mom raising a hand to his father in anger before this. The voices drifted easily to his room as his mother healed his father again, her anger abated by the destruction of the cast iron frying pan and possible removal of his father¡¯s ability to talk without a lisp. ¡°What foolish notion got in your head to make you think it was a good idea to move our family into the center of the village where there is clearly a great deal of crown scrutiny?¡± she asked. ¡°There¡¯s a migration comin¡¯ and there won¡¯t be a notice sent to the adventurer¡¯s guild. With that new baron pushin¡¯ for me to train his men, there was a chance that I¡¯d be away when it came if he decided to try to ¡®script me. I couldn¡¯t risk that. Plus we¡¯d probably need to leave anyways, I¡¯m not sure we could weather a true migration.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not certain!¡± she replied. ¡°Your father weathered several migrations without the adventurer¡¯s guild. What about our writ? What about the stone?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not my pa!¡± he replied with obvious frustration. ¡°I don¡¯t run around pickin¡¯ fights with wyverns cause it looks like fun. I can kill a hundred gobs, or a thousand in the woods, but I ain¡¯t able to guarantee your safety.¡± Lucas was captivated. Normally, his parents tried to keep their voices down when they argued, and he didn¡¯t get to hear the good stuff. It was rare for his father to talk about his grandfather and any new information was always interesting. Lucas wondered what it¡¯d be like to run up and punch a wyvern in the nose because it looked at him funny.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. ¡°You could have used the writ. You could have posted the notice yourself in Norvos. You had other options, Stan!¡± she said. ¡°I pull that thing out and it opens a whole ¡®nother bag of worms. What? You think your pa ain¡¯t still gnashin¡¯ his teeth after what I did? He¡¯d trade half his fortune for my head and if I pull out that writ then I¡¯m puttin¡¯ myself right in his arena. That baron was dead set on me workin¡¯ for him. I wasn¡¯t getting¡¯ out of it and he¡¯d have eventually forced my hand.¡± ¡°What about Lucas? We can¡¯t risk it, Stan,¡± his mother said. ¡°Randolph will be able to work with Lucas directly in the village. Well, it¡¯s a right proper city now. Part of the deal was a house where you could have your privacy. You can still work with him, and he can still use some of his skills,¡± said his father. ¡°It¡¯s just too risky¡­,¡± his mother started to say when she was interrupted by his father. ¡°Most important, he¡¯s getting the baron¡¯s token to the Royal Academy,¡± Stan said. There was a gasp and Lucas heard what he assumed was the handle of the frying pan drop. This Royal Academy must be pretty important. I wonder why they want me to go so bad? He thought to himself as he pulled Stick out from under his pillow and popped the latch on his shutters. Mr. Snugglepuss was waiting on the other side, not at all contrite at abandoning his master to the mercies of the angry woman. A quick flick with Stick reset the latch while he held one knob and the void cat held the other in its jaw, trained well on this procedure over the past year. Lucas booped him on the head then settled down to snuggle with his furry friend while wondering how he could subdue a wyvern and make it a pet. He bet that it wouldn¡¯t run away from his mother if she got angry. His head tilted to the side as he pictured his mother beating a wyvern with a frying pan and decided that if it was smart it would, in fact, run away from his angry mother. The voices from the kitchen had dropped to a murmur and Lucas knew they were making up. His Perception was getting better, but he still couldn¡¯t quite make out what was said. His parents making up meant that his mother would make pancakes in the morning, so that was good. Lucas dozed off holding his void cat to dreams of wyverns fighting over pancakes. He was woken the next morning by the smell of breakfast cooking. When he made his way to the kitchen, all signs of his parent¡¯s argument the night before were gone with the exception of the cast iron skillet sitting on the counter with a broken handle. His mother was in an excellent mood as she prepared breakfast and spoke when he entered. ¡°It¡¯s been a couple of weeks now since we¡¯ve sparred, I hope you haven¡¯t forgotten any of your forms. Once you are done with your chores, we¡¯ll go out and have a light workout,¡± said his mother with a chipper voice. ¡°Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± Lucas replied. ¡°And your father wanted me to remind you not to slack off on your mana training. If you have enough mana to cast your [Combat Focus] then you should do so,¡± she stated matter of factly as she leaned over to kiss him on the forehead after placing a small stack of pancakes on his plate. Lucas let out a small sigh and activated the ability before starting to eat. The synergistic increase to his perception with his [Herb Lore] skill wasn¡¯t as severe inside, but he still smelled a hint of iron from the blood his mother spilled the night before and the world slowed down significantly. Since his level up in the skill, he could keep it active a little bit longer and saw a noticeable increase to the strength of the skill, but he still only got a few seconds before being struck with a splitting headache and having the world come back into focus at full speed. Lucas shook his head to clear it and dug in to his pancakes with gusto. His chores were waiting and if he put it off too long he wouldn¡¯t be able to play at all today. He also wanted to get out of the kitchen as soon as possible because after his parents made up with each other they were always too kissy and huggy to be around. Lucas loved Helga, but he didn¡¯t think he¡¯d want to have her hugging and kissing on him all the time. He moved out the door to feed the animals. Goats and chickens were easy to feed. The chickens received exactly 4 cups of feed from the big bin. The goats received two buckets from the bin. The donkey was lead out of his stall, so Lucas could clean it. It wasn¡¯t a particularly onerous task, but it stank. An hour later Lucas was in the cellar counting items. This always took longer than it should because his father came down here and took stuff intentionally. Each week when his mother went over his books if he had missed something he got punished. Luckily for Lucas, the punishment was generally pretty light even if his father had pushed for extra sparring sessions. Each time his ability was useable, he cast [Combat Focus] and occasionally would play with his [Increase Weight]. The ability was definitely interesting and a lot more complicated than any other ability he had, few though they were. It seemed to work better on stone or metal than it did on the hay. He¡¯d tried to cast it on a chicken, but nothing had happened. A feather plucked from a chicken could be increased, but it didn¡¯t get as heavy with the same amount of mana. It was funny to watch the feather stab into the ground like a knife though. After finishing the inventory of the homestead, finding 10 kilos of chicken feed, one box of nails, and a hammer missing, and working with his mother on the forms, the rest of the day was his. His goal was to increase his understanding of his [Mana Control] skill, first by reading about it and later by practicing with it. The skill seemed like the first step he needed to take in order to better modify mana, spells, and skills like his [Keen Edge] to work in different ways. He sat on the bed in what his mother called a neutral position, legs crossed under him and hands relaxed at his side. With a deep breath in and out, Lucas began to circulate his mana.