The world was completely still. The first rays of the sun emerged from behind the eastern mountains, the sky was clear for the first time in weeks, and the cold air seeped through my Warm Blanket. I refueled the Warm Stones in the middle of our hideout. The natural stone wall blocked the freezing wind from the snowy mountains, and the dense foliage covered us from any flying undead prowling around. In any other situation, the calm would have been reassuring, but a silent forest felt dangerous.
Not even the birds chirped.
I put a battered pot on top of the Warm Stones and boiled water. Wolf handed me the food sack, and I prepared the first warm meal since we left Farcrest. Oatmeal and raisins weren’t what I considered an appetizing breakfast, but it was what we could scavenge from the Sentinel’s Watchtower. The kids ate in silence. Ilya had regained her color, and her [Spirit Animal], a white and blue fox, scurried around our hideout with renewed vigor.
“How are you doing, Wolf?” I said.
“My mana reserves are full again,” he replied without taking his eyes off the oatmeal.
Wolf still avoided the topic of accepting a Class. I couldn't tell whether it was because he wasn’t ready to talk about it or because he didn’t want to be a hassle. Making the right decisions wasn’t always easy. Even if he downplayed the issue, he had saved the expedition, and having a Healer allowed us to take riskier fights. We had to plan how to move forward.
I ate a spoonful of gruel while I sorted my thoughts. The whole situation was out of the ordinary. Monster Surges were either waves of monsters displaced into the continent or a stray powerful monster stumbling into civilization. I didn’t think the Lich fell into either of those categories. Unlike stray monsters, the Lich was intelligent. He must have a reason to attack Farcrest.
Knowing the reason behind the Lich’s attack might give us the edge to survive. I tried to recall our first meeting, but the afterimage of his electric-blue eyes shone behind my eyelids. A cold sweat covered my body, and the image of Elincia being hit by the rusty orc spear sent a shiver down my body. I knew I wasn’t completely over that experience, but I doubted there was a certified therapist in Ebros. I hardened my resolve and dug into my memories. It was a matter of survival. [Awareness] brought me back to the cave.
The Lich had offered me a deal.
There are bigger and meaner things out there in the Deep Farlands. Things that could kill even an immortal like me. I’m offering you power. I ask you for loyalty.
“I know the monster behind the Monster Surge,” I said, breaking the silence.
The kids raised their heads.
“The Forest Warden is a spirit. You can’t just meet something like that,” Ilya replied.
“It’s not the Forest Warden. It’s a Lich.”
Ilya, Zaon, and Wolf paled, but Firana instantly jumped to her feet, grinning. “Great, we just need to stab his weak caster ass and send him back to the realms of death,” she said with a cheerful tone.
Ilya massaged her temples.
“Liches are high-level corrupted magicians, just like Wendigos. There’s no setting where we can ‘stab his ass’. Not even Mister Clarke could do it,” Ilya said matter-of-factly. “No offense,” she added, looking at me.
Firana was going to reply, but I interrupted her.
“Ilya is right. I don’t think I can defeat the Lich. Remember when I got the Corruption? Well, that was the result of my fight with the Lich, and it ended as well as it could,” I said.
The kids nodded with grave expressions.
“How did you even escape?” Ilya asked.
I guessed the kids had to know the truth.
“The Lich’s Corruption shattered the barriers of my mana pool and exposed me to the Fountain, so in a sense, I got my current powers thanks to him. The rest was pure luck,” I explained. “Loki saved me. I assume he turned into someone who appeared in the Lich’s memories, which seemed to throw him off. Thanks to the Corruption, I used magic without the help of the System and made the mountain collapse on the Lich’s head.”
The kids started throwing questions, and I answered them all. The more they asked, the more their expressions turned into surprise. They knew about the Fountain thanks to the teachings of the Church of the System, but they were ignorant to the fact that it was just under our mana pools. They closed their eyes and meditated just like I had taught them, but none seemed to be able to detect it. The walls of their mana pools prevented them from doing so, for better or worse.
Just in case, I strictly forbid them from experimenting with Corruption.
“Casting magic beyond the System's boundaries sounds useful. Imagine using skills you don’t actually have!” Ilya said.
“Orcs can do magic without the assistance of the System, but I’ve never heard about making mountains collapse. We use wards to protect our territories and detection spells to locate prey. We can even make trees walk, boulders move on their own and summon rain or clear the skies, but that usually requires a circle of several shamans,” Wolf pointed out.
As I suspected, the System allowed people to perform magical feats they couldn’t otherwise. I remembered the Bard Song before the tournament finals. The performers showed us a time when humans didn’t have the System. They hid in caves like rats, at the mercy of magical predators. Maybe we weren’t supposed to grasp the powers of the Fountain like the System did.
The kids continued talking about the Lich and the System, but I drifted out of the conversation. I closed my eyes as the puzzle pieces fell into place. Fountain. System. Corruption. Everything was linked into a single picture that slowly became clearer. The System was the intermediary between humans and the Fountain. It allowed us to perform magic feats impossible for ancient humans. Corruption was the byproduct of the System’s inability to process enough Fountain mana. The System Avatar wanted me to edit the System code to fix the faulty processes that created Corruption. There were other Runeweavers before me. Runeweaver Baram was a mythical figure who created powerful enchanted items. Was he an agent of the System Avatar? Did he perform any fixes during his time? If he did, he failed. Byrne was also a Runeweaver, but Byrne refused to fix the System. Why? Did he follow the orc philosophy of not dealing with Corruption?
Was the System Avatar even telling me the whole truth?
My worldview had changed after Janus’ betrayal. I always tried to assume people had no hidden ill intentions, but now I couldn’t live making such assumptions. The System Avatar might be lying, or worse, he could be wrong. Maybe this world—the Fountain—wasn’t compatible with the System, and as long as it existed, there would be Corruption.
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“There are bigger and meaner things out there in the Deep Farlands,” the Lich’s voice echoed in my mind.
There was always a slight probability of the System doing more harm than good.
“How do orc shamans channel mana?” I asked.
Wolf shook his head. “I don’t know the specifics, but rituals are group efforts. A lead with a circle. It’s not something a single orc can do. There’s no Corruption involved. Ever.”
I nodded. The ‘safe’ amount of Fountain Mana had to be leagues lower than we experienced with the System, so multiple individuals had to put their mana together to perform a spell. It matched with what the Bard Song during the tournament finals had shown us—the human ritual to hide the cave’s entrance.
Wolf shifted, uncomfortable.
“We have another method of using magic, but I don’t think I can talk about it,” Wolf said.
“You spilled the beans already,” Ilya said.
Earth’s slang was sticking around the orphanage.
Wolf sighed. “I’m not supposed to talk about this, so please, keep it a secret. In certain cases, orcs can channel great amounts of mana on their own. When we face a dangerous opponent, our warriors can enter a Combat Trance to increase their strength and speed. Like the superheroes from Mister Clarke’s illusions.”
“And there isn’t Corruption involved?” I asked.
“No,” Wolf shook his head. “When the Trance ends, the warrior dies. The Trance kills them and burns their bodies to ashes.”
I felt my stomach churn. Orcs thrived through the ages in the Farlands, but the price to pay for exceeding your natural limits was death. Maybe the ancient humans didn’t have a way of channeling the powers of the Fountain other than with group rituals. That was why they lived in fear, cornered against the world's magic fauna, while orc tribes and other magical races prospered. It wasn’t just the difference in physical ability but their capability to harness magic.
“Wolf, don’t ever try to enter the Combat Trance, no matter the enemy,” I said.
Wolf sighed. “It’s not like I know how. Warriors are taught to do so, and it seems unlikely they would teach me now.”
We fell into an uncomfortable silence.
“I’m sure Dassyra will understand,” I said.
“I hope so,” Wolf replied.
We finished our breakfast and washed the bowls with our waterskins. A clean spring was nearby, so the water wasn’t a concern. Food, on the other hand, grew scarce.
“My best guess is that the Lich wants to create undead warriors from Farcrest’s combatants, so our goal remains the same. We need to reach the tribes, and with Wolf as a Healer, I think we can break through the monster’s wall.” I said, getting ready to depart.
A faint smile appeared on Wolf’s face. There was a silver lining to Wolf’s Class situation. Orcs hated the System, but they were also highly pragmatic, and among all classes, Healer was one of the most useful ones regardless of the level. I also smiled. The Healer Class fitted Wolf’s personality very well. Under his serene demeanor, he was a huge softie, and medics require a strong will to withstand the rigor of the profession while being compassionate to the sick.
We buried the Warm Stones and left our hideout. The forest remained silent despite the sun peeking over the mountains. Ilya summoned two instances of her [Spirit Animal], a fox and a sparrow, and sent them to scout ahead. We walked on the boundary between the forest and the mountains where the Forest Warden’s root system was weaker, but the young trees still hid us from any airborne undead. My legs felt strong against the snow-covered ground, and my backpack was light over my shoulders.
We were an hour deep into the path when Ilya signaled us to stop.
At first, I didn’t detect anything out of the ordinary. Only thanks to [Awareness] did I notice the footprints on the snow. There were two sets of them. I realized why I hadn’t detected them. They weren’t proper footsteps but slight depressions in the snow. The boots' owners either weighed less than a kilogram or had the skill to allow them to leave no marks.
“That’s strange,” Ilya whispered.
“Is it?” Zaon replied, stepping past Ilya into the untouched patch of snow.
Despite the heavy backpack on his shoulders, Zaon’s boots barely sunk into the snow. I tried to do the same, but mine dug deep. Maybe the racial trait was stronger on pureblood elves than half-elves like Elincia.
“That’s creepy,” Wolf pointed out.
“No, that’s [Light-footed],” Zaon said, but not one of the kids found his joke entertaining.
“An elf must have been nearby, maybe a Sentinel. Do you think they can help us?” Ilya said.
Elves weren’t entirely unheard of in Farcrest, although Zaon was the only pureblooded elf I had spoken to. Most of the population were humans, and there were several half-orcs. Harpies, gnomes, orcs, and half-elves weren’t as common, but it wasn’t surprising to bump into one of them either.
“It must be a Sentinel. The blizzard happened after the start of the Monster Surge, so I doubt a non-combatant would travel north right now. Let’s ignore it. If they don’t want to be found, we would only waste time chasing them.” I replied. A part of my brain feared Janus had his hands deep into the Sentinel’s ranks.
Ilya nodded, and we continued to the north and east. A few minutes passed, and Ilya stopped us again. On the slope of the mountain near the forest line, a lone undead harpy perched on top of a pointy rock. Its wing was bent at a strange angle. I assumed it was part of the undead attack force that besieged Farcrest during the night. It must’ve collided with another harpy or wind spirit and ended up grounded.
“I recognize free experience when I see it,” Firana said with a melodic tone.
Undead Harpy Lv.11
After the last fight, Ilya and Wolf fell behind in their experience, and a grounded Lv.11 Hapry was an excellent opportunity to close the gap. However, the reigning silence worried me. The wind was still, and a single screech from the creature would be heard across the valley.
“Do you think you can kill it before it shrieks?” I asked.
“My Lv.1 [Archery] allows me to aim perfectly under twenty-two meters. Even at thirty meters, I’m mostly accurate. And that’s before this bow,” Ilya replied, giving a soft slap to the Cooldown Bow.
“I’m confident in my aim at that distance, even without fancy passives,” Wolf added.
It was set, then. We hid behind a tree while Ilya and Wolf moved silently over the snow. The Harpy was facing southwest, so they took a wide detour to position behind the monster. The foliage covered my view, so I could only guess their position. I trusted Ilya and Wolf to find the perfect shot. Minutes passed in silence, and I tried to ease the tension in my body by entering a state of semi-meditation. Firana and Zaon gripped their swords.
Ilya’s arrow flew like a white tracer and punched through the harpy’s neck powered by [Piercing Shot]. Not an instant later, Wolf’s stone crushed the monster’s head. The undead body went limp and fell on the snow with a silent thud. Not a single sound emerged from its throat.
“I must admit that was a nice shot,” Firana said, easing the grip of her sword.
“Don’t forget to tell Ilya,” I replied, and Firana nodded.
We were walking towards the spot from where the arrow appeared when Ilya appeared behind the thicket, pointing to the sky. I followed her finger through the foliage and saw three little dots flying near the top of the mountain. [Awareness] told me there were Blood Eagles, who seemed to be diving toward us, fast.
“I sense it! We are in danger!” Zaon said.
“How did they find us?” Firana asked.
I turned around to the Undead Harpy’s body. There wasn’t a clean line of sight between the rocks and the mountain tops. A gloomy idea popped into my mind. What if the Lich sensed when one of his undead was killed?
“We have to get out of here,” I yelled. “Into the forest! Now!”