by J. T. Wright
Orion took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Trent, we are strangers, and it is improper for me to guide you, but our lives are intermixed, our fates connected.” He pushed the sword into Trent’s hands and asked, “You have another Class slot, yes?”
Tersa, who had been chewing on her lower lip and waiting for a chance to offer remarkable insight, chose this moment to burst out. “Piss and bloody piss, no way! A second Class slot, really?”
Orion gave the girl an odd look. He’d heard several strange curses from Tersa in their short acquaintance. The Guard Recruit had a strange desire to swear but didn’t seem to know-how.
Trent, more used to Tersa’s outbursts, merely nodded. “Yeah, I have…”
Orion raised a hand to cut him off. Tersa shot the Al’rashian a dirty look. She was aware of what the man was doing and why, but she didn’t appreciate it. As Trent’s best friend, the boy’s secrets were her secrets, after all.
“Some things shouldn’t be discussed, even with those you trust the most.” Orion kept the exasperation from his voice, but it was close. Trent was entirely too open and honest. It was like he had no life experience at all. Orion admired these qualities; it was far too easy to become jaded in the Infinite World, but this habit of declaring sensitive information needed to be nipped in the bud.
“I only ask because your free Points give you access to so many Skills. This implies you have amazing potential. I believe the sword is the Trial’s way of telling you to explore that potential.”
“But I already have an Advanced Class, shouldn’t I concentrate on that?” Trent held the sword tightly in his hands. He knew Survivalists didn’t use swords. Small weapons were a Survivalist’s tools.
“I don’t know how you were able to choose an Advanced Class as your first, but it’s not necessarily a good thing.” Orion scratched his cheek as he carefully considered his words. “Your current Attributes will hold you back when leveling your Survivalist Class. Without a basic or specialized Class to set the foundation…” Orion had trained young Al’rashian warriors in the past, but this situation was beyond his experience.
Fortunately, Trent seemed to understand what he was saying. He knew that if he had chosen a simpler Class, he would have leveled up several times by now. It was only the stringent requirements of an Advanced Class that held him back. He also knew that while he was quick to pick up new Skills, his Skill growth speed was also absurdly low due to his Attributes.
“So which Class should I choose? Is it alright to choose a specialized one?” Trent asked, pulling up his Status and looking at the Classes available to him.
“You can pick a specialization?” Tersa asked. There was both awe and jealousy in her voice.
Trent shrugged. “Sure, there’s Thief, Scout, Blade, Fire Elementalist…”
“Enough! Secrets, Trent!” Orion didn’t keep the exasperation out of his voice this time.
“We're all depending on each other here. Shouldn’t you both have a say in what I pick?” Trent was starting to feel like Orion was the unreasonable one here.
“Yes!” Tersa shouted at the same time as Orion firmly said, “No!”
Orion gave the redhead a withering look. “Trent has to live with his decision even after we clear the Trial.”
Tersa had the grace to look abashed as Orion continued, “The choice is yours, Trent. I will only say that I believe, I guess, that the Trial wants you to have that sword. Ultimately, the three of us have the Basic Skills of a standard Adventurer’s party already. Trent, you are a Survivalist…”
Orion’s lips clamped shut. Survivalist was an Al’rashian Class. He was grateful to Trent, but he wasn’t quite ready to spill the secrets of his people.
“… a Survivalist has some of the Skills of a Rogue and Scout. That is your role. Tersa is a shield and blunt instrument, and I can Heal and provide magical support. We lack ranged damage, but we also lack a ranged weapon so that need not be considered.”
Trent frowned. The only Specialized Warrior Class he could pick was Blade. Of all the Classes he had examined, he knew that Blade used short weapons like knives or axes, but not swords.
Holding up the sword, he asked Orion, “Can you teach me to use this?” Maybe a new Class would become available if he first learned the Basic Skill for this weapon.
“Yes, that sword is of Al’rashian make. I am familiar with its purpose,” Orion said confidently. Then he hesitated. “But, I doubt we have the time for a detailed lesson.”
“Cast that light Spell thing outside the room.” Tersa said, adding disgustedly, “I'll stand guard while you show him the basics and spar with him. I’ll bet he learns quick; I'll stake my share of any loot we get from here on out on it.”
Orion still hesitated. They had defeated the prison’s Guardian. They may only have minutes before waves of Undead showed up.
“Wait!” Trent hurriedly Appraised all of the new gear and the two Skill Stones, “The Stones are Identify and Crushing Blow. Tersa, Crushing Blow is for you, and you might as well take Identify as well.”
Tersa took the attack Skill. Her face was pleased as she studied it and the Stone crumbled away, when the new knowledge filled her brain. “You keep Identify, Trent. You’re the Scout.” It was hard for Tersa to turn it down. Identify was a universal Skill, and she could, undoubtedly, pick it up, but that wasn’t the best decision for the party. Orion also turned down the Stone when Trent offered it to him, but in his case, it was because he already had the Skill.
Finally, it came back around to Trent. He hid his pleasure; a smile might put Tersa in a bashing mood. He’d had Appraisal for most of his life, but it was only good with objects; Identify was used on living targets. It wasn’t much use at Level 1, but he would increase its Level as quickly as he could.
Tersa’s round shield was a basic piece of equipment; Trent didn’t bother telling her its statistics. Orion’s staff, on the other hand, was enchanted and would increase the strength of Water Element spells and improve the concentration of the person wielding it. Orion nodded at the news. He liked the enchanted oaken staff with its iron capped ends. It would serve as a casting tool and a fine melee weapon. He was almost eager to try it out.
“This sword,” Trent drew the blade out and examined it, “is not as good as my axes. I’m not sure switching to it is such a good idea. It only has a damage rating of 10, though when used on Infernal creatures, it had a rating of 25.”
He noticed Orion shiver when he mentioned Infernal Creatures, but he didn’t let on that he had seen him tremble, as he described his axes to the Al’rashian Mage.
“Those axes are impressive,” Orion said. Trent smiled in agreement until Orion continued. “Soul-bound equipment at Level 1 is very impressive, and utterly wasted on you. They are paired weapons. Without the Dual Wield Skill you won’t be able to bring forth half their potential. To learn Dual Wield you need to master Clever Hands and Ambidextrous. You also need a minimum of 45 in Agility and 50 in Dexterity. I'm more convinced than ever that we need that sword.”
Trent’s face fell at Orion’s words, but he paid attention as closely as he could. “The Trial wouldn’t give us a weapon meant to slay the Infernal unless we were going to have to face the Infernal.”
“Undead aren’t Infernal?” Tersa said nervously, from the doorway.
“No, the Undead are Cursed. The Infernal are a variety of demonic creatures.” Orion’s eyes were serious. “Twenty minutes, we train for twenty minutes, no more. Regardless of whether you can pick up the Skill that quickly or not, you will have to use the sword, Trent.”
Trent swallowed and nodded. He would try.
Chapter 29
Trent held his Al’rashian longsword in one hand. It was a complicated weapon, elegant and fast in a single hand, or brutal and powerful when held with both. He had picked up the related Skill after training for only ten minutes with Orion. That Skill was Basic Longsword, Level 1.
Orion had included an explanation of the sword’s histo
ry and its connection to the Survivalist Class in their lesson. The first Survivalists had used machetes, knives, and hand axes. It wasn’t until they had become a standard part of the Al’rashian military that Survivalists started to implement swords into their repertoire. If Trent wanted to specialize his Advanced Class someday, this single-edged sword, with its gentle curve and sharpened tip, would be an important weapon.
Trent hadn’t missed that Orion knew more about Survivalists than he was saying. The Al’rashian was reluctant to answer the boy’s questions, though. All his responses were terse, curt even. Trent had to let go of his curiosity or risk offending the man.
Trent held his sword loosely in one hand. He was still more comfortable fighting one-handed, though Orion assured him he was missing out on the strongest attacks the sword could deliver by fighting this way. Unfortunately, Orion didn’t have the time to teach him the intricate forms and styles of Al’rashian swordplay, so Trent depended on the basics; the basics and his new Class.
He picked up the Specialized Class, Swordsman, after their training session. Tersa had been equally delighted and depressed. On the one hand, she’d been right about how easily he would get comfortable with the new sword. On the other hand, Trent got new Skills, Thrust, Triple Slash, and Chop, while she was still stuck with a basic Class and only one attack Skill, Crushing Blow.
Tersa could be consoled that her Level was still higher than Trent’s, even though Trent had seen rapid growth in the week since they had fought their way clear of the prison. He now had 6 levels in Swordsman and another Level in Survivalist for a total Level of 8.
Orion, for his part, was pleased with both his young friends’ progress. Tersa was a friend now; she bickered with him constantly, but she did the same with Trent. It was her way of showing affection, Orion supposed. She stopped referring to him as, “a pissing, rotten murderer,” after the fifth time he’d pulled her out of trouble.
Tersa had the disturbing habit of activating Enraging Aura and charging ahead each time they encountered an enemy. No matter if there were two opponents or twelve, she always charged, shouting things like, “Suck ass, jerkface!” or “By Terah’s wrinkled genitals.” It didn’t matter how many times Orion and Trent told her to hold back a bit, or that the goddess of forest and field probably didn’t have wrinkled genitals, Tersa was incorrigible. You accepted it as part of her Charm, or you went mad.
Fortunately, both of them had weapons Skills and Levels that were improving. Orion conceded it was probably because they were getting plenty of practice since Tersa’s unfriendly greetings kept them from avoiding enemies.
The three companions probably would have been dead long ago if not for Trent’s uncanny scouting abilities. The boy never failed to spot an ambush or trap. He found defensive positions and led the others to it long before the enemy arrived. At some point, both Tersa and Orion started looking at Trent as the leader of their small group. It was ridiculous if you thought about it. Trent had far less experience than Orion, or even Tersa, but that was how it was.
This was how Trent acquired the Leadership Skill. While it was only Level 1, it allowed the group to form a party and share experiences. This was greatly responsible for the growth of the two younger companions. Most of the enemies they faced were Level 12 and up, impossible foes for Tersa and Trent, but easy meat for Orion. Once they formed a party, sharing in the Experience from Orion’s kills caused Trent’s Level to explode. Now he and Tersa were able to contribute to the fight, although it also meant the Trial’s difficulty increased. Now, they rarely saw an enemy below Level 16.
Trent’s taking charge almost naturally occurred sometime after he led them to the first safe zone, He didn’t stumble upon it. He led them directly to it like he could see it. Which was impossible.
By the time Trent found the third safe zone, Orion had to accept that the boy was more special than he’d realized. Safe zones were places you could only find by luck. Unless you were Trent! Orion wondered if it was a feature of the mask Trent always wore, but the equipment was soul-bound; it couldn’t be stronger than its wearer.
No, something about the boy himself was made to challenge the Trials. The proof of that was right in front of Orion. With sword in hand, Trent lunged and activated the Thrust Skill. The narrowed tip of his sword pierced the roof of an Infernal Hunting Cat’s mouth.
The large cat, five feet in length and three feet tall at the shoulder, jerked back in pain. It snarled and swiped at Trent, but Trent’s feet never stopped moving. He avoided the blow and shifted his grip on his sword as he moved forward. He activated another Skill that Orion had seen before but didn’t realize the boy knew. He must have leveled up again, Orion assumed.
Long Slash was meant for disemboweling larger opponents, and it could be tricky to get a handle on, but Trent never paused as he swept his blade down the side of the Hunting Cat, scoring a deep, penetrating hit. From one Skill to the next, Trent’s movements were flawless.
This was the first Infernal Beast they had encountered. It had leaped out and ambushed them while they were running from a mixed group of Undead. One second the land ahead had been clear, and then, suddenly, teeth, fur, and muscle were flying at the party’s leader and Scout.
When Trent acted without panic, swiftly changing from fleeing to attacking, Orion could only credit Trent’s survival on the boy’s instinctive feel for the Trial. That was another reason he had command over the small group. A week of running and fighting, and he still carried himself with confidence and ease.
Orion was bewildered, in a way. Trent’s casual conversation was stilted. He lacked even the most common knowledge a child picked up as he grew, but when it came to the challenges on the Trial, he was like a fish in fast-moving water. He naturally navigated the swift ever-changing currents.
The present situation was a perfect example. Instead of faltering, he adapted, and critically wounded an unknown beast with two strikes. His swordsmanship was clumsy, but his grasp over his Skills was nearly perfect.
Tersa, following close behind Trent, dealt the finishing blow to the heavily wounded Cat. She’d replaced her simple mace with a longer, heavier, spiked one two days earlier. The heavy weapon, combined with Crushing Blow, caved in the skull of the Infernal Beast.
It was obviously dead, but Tersa gave the Cat another whack anyway and followed that up with a kick.
“Stupid, ugly cat!” Tersa spat. “Never trust a cat! They look all cute and cuddly but try to pet one, and they’ll bite or scratch. And the second you turn your back on them, they pee in your shoe! Not like a dog.”
“We don’t have time for this!” Trent interrupted. His words were abrupt, but his tone was gentle. If they weren’t being chased, he would really like to hear the reason why Tersa hated cats.
He looked back at the troop of Undead that were pursuing them, twenty-five to thirty Skeletal Warriors and Zombie Biters. It wasn’t an insurmountable number if they could find the right place to make a stand, but there were enough that even Tersa hadn’t charged into them.
They needed to keep the Undead form surrounding them. If they could do that, Orion’s staff and magic could settle the pack with a little help from Tersa’s mace and his sword.
But where should they go? The land was flat in all directions. He could see hills, and cliffs, and what looked like ruins of a town in the distance, but they’d never reach it in time. To the left…
What was that? Not a hill, or canyon, just a small rise in the terrain. No more than an average man's height. It wouldn’t provide shelter, except there was a white sheen to the bump that Trent had seen before. A Safe Zone! Was there a cave or hole there? It didn’t matter, a Safe Zone was a Safe Zone.
“That way! Towards that small rise!” Trent pointed and directed.
Tersa set off immediately. She was good at following orders if those orders weren’t “stand still” or “carefully follow this plan.” Trent wished she was as good at remembering that he was the Scout, and she should stay beh
ind him, as she was at leaping into action.
Trent tossed Orion a grin, which the Al’rashian missed since it was concealed by Trent’s mask. He set off after Tersa. Orion shrugged and followed behind, jogging in his easy, loping stride. Trent was about to overtake Tersa and resume his rightful place when he spotted it.
His eyes widened, and his hand shot out to grab Tersa’s shoulder. He yanked her backward, hard. Caught between one step and the next, Tersa found herself plopping onto her rear. She shot Trent a disgruntled look. When had he gotten strong enough to toss her around?
Tent spun wildly in a circle. All around them were the clear shimmering runes that indicated they’d stepped into a Fleshling Circle. A few more steps forward, and they’d find themselves surrounded. This was the first time they’d stumbled onto this twist of the Trial since Orion joined them.
Orion came to a halt and gave Trent a concerned look. Trent quickly explained the situation to him, and Orion frowned. This wasn’t good! His magic could deal with Fleshlings, but not fast enough, not with their pursuers catching up.
“Hmph.” Tersa stood and glared at the two men. “I have an idea if anyone wants to listen.”
Trent sheathed his sword. His mind was whirling. He halfheartedly asked Tersa what she had in mind, not really expecting much beyond a recommendation to charge.
“We charge.” There it was. Tersa hurried to explain before she could be stopped. “One of us recently gained a Level and managed to specialize. One of us now has superior bashing abilities and can get us through a few Fleshlings easily.”
Two serious gazes were cast in her direction, and Tersa pretended to brush dust off her shoulder as she preened under her friends' attention. At least she meant to pretend to brush herself off. The cloud of dirt her hand threw up surprised her. Next time they rested, she needed to remember to use a Self-Clean Charm.
“What did you Specialize as?” Orion didn’t think he’d like the answer.
