The clearance reward was... a lot to take in. His Holy Sea expanded, and his Skill Runes improved, implanting even more knowledge into his mind.
His updated status was interesting, to say the least.
Name – David Stears
Class – Cleric
Rank – Iron VIII
Body –Middle(+)(Basic)
Mind – Middle(Basic)
Soul – Low(Basic)
[Skill Runes]
[Cure Wounds] – [Tier-0 VIII]
[Cleanse] – [Tier-0 IV]
[Holy Touch] – [Tier-1 VI]
[Bless] - [Tier-0 V]
Attribute Points – 1
All Skill Runes leveled up, some even twice. Not too bad.
The surprise on Melach and Torb’s faces was evident. Their growth must have been substantial as well. Everyone was happy, but Melach winced again.
“We only got this much because everyone else died. Their contribution to the battle was given to us.”
David’s face distorted in mild frustration. He didn’t know if that was true or not, but it wasn’t like they could revive the dead.
Why didn’t the dead rise as Infected? Some of them have been humans.
At the beginning of the integration, death alone had been enough to cause a transformation into an undead Infected. That didn’t seem to be the case anymore. David wondered if their bodies had developed a resistance to Aether, which, according to Melach’s theory, could make becoming Infected more difficult. Or was it a proven fact? David couldn’t tell.
A sudden roar resounding in the vicinity surprised the group. Torb stopped scavenging everything of value while Melach scanned the surroundings.
“Should we leave?” David proposed. There was no need to linger around any longer. The Rift was closed, and they had only a few hours to prepare everything required to stop the inevitable emergence of the Demon Horde.
“That sounds like a plan,” Torb said, though his eyes stayed fixed on the shield.
Even though his shield hadn’t been destroyed, it was barely usable at this point. The Alpha Fang had marked the shield more than once.
“We can replace your shield,” Melach patted Torb’s back. He consoled the Dwarf even though it looked like the Elf needed someone to do the same to him. David shook his head at the unlike duo.
Melach hardly knew these people, but he was acting as though he’d lost a loved one. Is that normal… or is it odd not to feel like that?
After everything he’d experienced, death no longer felt abstract. No one wanted to die, but it was becoming a regular occurrence. The Earthen Union had changed, and countless deadly challenges awaited them. Would Melach react like this every time an ally fell?
David tried not to show his confusion, but the Elf must have noticed something. His expression shifted to anger, then defeat. He didn’t say anything to David. However, Melach walked up to their dead allies to collect their ID slates before he joined the others.
The Elf remained silent on the short journey back to Arc.
Torb and David didn’t have much to say either. Torb sulked. He might have collected a bunch of valuable fangs and claws, but David couldn’t tell if they would earn them enough to purchase a new shield. Meanwhile, David was caught in his world of thoughts.
The Obsidian Blade rested in his mind space, revolving around the Holy Sea with a thin crimson thread connecting them.
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The thread wasn’t visible before. Is that another effect of the nourishment, or did it take a while for the connection to stabilize?
Absorbing the Alpha Fang’s blood should have played a crucial role, but that was merely a theory. David had yet to find hard proof.
He shrugged inwardly. He was happy with his soulbound weapon, whether there was evidence to prove some theories or not. It hardly changed some hard facts: David acquired a soulbound weapon, which could be nurtured with blood.
A lot more thoughts flashed through David’s mind on their way back to the Sanctuary. Most were related to the upcoming challenge. His Skill Runes and Rank increased a lot today, but something felt odd.
Everywhere he went, death seemed to follow like a shadow. The chaos of it all felt almost too familiar, creeping up on him in every new place. How long had it even been since he’d met Torb and Melach? Two hours?
Too many doubts plagued his mind. It took him a while to realize they were already close to Arc and that Torb was talking to him.
“David? Are you listening?”
David jolted, and his head flicked to the Dwarf. He was searching for an excuse, but Torb waved dismissively.
No need to make excuses, it’s fine,’ the Dwarf said with a smile. ‘Anyway, we were talking about the loot distribution.”
What about it? I got the Obsidian Blade, and you guys can split the rest.” David shrugged. The Obsidian Blade was probably dozens of times more valuable than some Fragments or a Skill Slate.
Don’t be like that. It’s not like the Obsidian Blade would bond with a Mage or a Shield Warrior of Fortress.” Torb chuckled as Melach raised an eyebrow. “And bonding with a Cleric makes sense to you?”
“Right. I forgot he’s a Cleric,” Torb replied as if a lightbulb had switched on in his mind. “He is a bloody Cleric, though. The Obsidian Blade must have sensed that, or the bond wouldn’t have worked. It doesn’t really matter. You found the blade first, and it wasn’t like you knew what was about to happen.”
Melach stepped forward, “You’re talking too much, Torb.”
“We’re trying to say that Torb doesn’t want to take more than the Skill Slate of [Block] and some of the fangs and claws he’s scavenged. I, on the other hand, won’t touch the Fragment of Blood. It feels…”
Melach shuddered, looking like a mere thought about the Fragment of Blood was enough to disgust him.
So you want me to take the Fragment of Blood and do what I want with it?” David asked.
“You can take the Fragment of Blood,” Torb added before reluctantly adding, “And a small share of the profit made from selling the claws and fangs. After I purchase a new shield.”
“Don’t bother. Purchase a good shield and maybe some plated armor. Or, at the very least, buy some leather armor,” David snickered. A Shield Warrior without armor was suicidal. Then again, he didn’t have armor either. At this point, David didn’t even possess a shirt. All of them had been torn to shreds and drenched in blood – mostly his blood.
“Are you sure?” Torb asked, his eyes glimmering.
David didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but Torb’s deference made him wonder if the Dwarf considered him the group’s leader. Melach wasn’t like that, yet the Elf didn’t interfere either.
If you sell the Skill Slate and the Bosses’ fangs and claws, you should be able to buy some good gear. Improve your equipment as much as possible. Every bit helps.
“I won’t sell the Skill Slate, but you’re right. The more protection I have, the higher is my chance at survival.”
“Why won't you sell the Skill Slate? You already have [Block], or am I missing something?” David tilted his head.
Arc’s outskirts came into view. The Sanctuary stood in full glory, one of the few safe hideouts. Though it wouldn’t be safe for long.
“[Block] is about to reach its limit as a Tierless Skill Rune, so I will nourish my Skill Rune with the [Block] Skill Slate. It might be enough to push [Block] to Tier-1.”
It was possible to upgrade Skill Runes by absorbing Skill Slates of the same Skill? Or did the rune engraved on the Skill Slate not matter? That was unlikely.
If you’re filthy rich, you can purchase as many common Skill Slates as you want. That’s how you push one Skill Rune to Tier-1, maybe even Tier-2, without ever using the Skill Rune.
David snorted at the thought but smiled at Torb, “It’d be great if you could push [Block] to the 1st Tier. [Holy Touch] is incredibly powerful, so if [Block] grows to similar heights, it would increase everyone’s chances at surviving this mess.”
They reached Arc, where they met one guard. Melach asked the guard something as they flashed their ID slates, but they proceeded without saying anything.
Arc’s streets weren’t as crowded as they used to be. After a few hours, everything was bustling with life. Now, all David could see was a few merchants in the market square and a bunch of Protectors preparing for war.
“Apparently, the guards are deployed to the northern part of the Sanctuary to prepare the perimeters for the Demon Horde,” Melach mentioned as they reached Arc’s center, “And the Familia seems to be handing out potions.”
Are we talking about the same stingy Familia?” Torb asked, earning a deadly glare from the Elf. “Alright, Alright. Calm down: I was just joking.”
The way Torb said it made it clear he wasn’t really joking.
“Whatever. Whatever. We’ll get some potions, and we should be able to negotiate some good deals with the merchants. No matter how greedy these bastards are, they cannot leave the System Sanctuary easily. Not without breaking their contracts, which would cost a lot more than giving the Protectors some nice discounts. And since they don’t want to die…” Melach didn’t finish his sentence, but David got the gist of it.
He burst into a vibrant smile, and so did Torb. They looked at each other, their smiles slowly transforming into devious grimaces.
“Let’s extort some merchants!”