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Gregoire, the Gargoyle of Normandie
Chapter 19: The Impossibility of Levelling up

Chapter 19: The Impossibility of Levelling up

The stepping sounds stopped when they reached the bottom of the stairs.

“We know you’re here, come out and we’ll spare you!” They spoke with a heavy Northmen accent.

Although their days as ravage pillagers had long passed, they weren’t people to be messed with. Sparing us was a no go for people like them.

Staying hidden below the desk, we remained silent as their footsteps came ever closer.

On the other hand, we were ready to shoot as soon as we could see them.

The only light source in the dungeon were a few holes in the ceiling from where the above ground church light drifted in.

If they continued forwards, they’d have to pass below it.

We waited. And waited. Until—

Light shined on dirty blonde hair and a large frame. I shot.

I got him in the chest. There wasn’t a massive splatter of blood and guts like before, no. He just collapsed.

No one screamed or jerked around. Everyone was stuck in time until—

Bang! Another shot resounded. It was François’s and another body dropped.

Snapping out of it, the two remaining Northmen screamed and pulled their blades. The metal twinkled in the darkness, but before they could do anything Ligothe jumped down unto the tallest one’s head.

Screaming in terror, the man dropped his sword trying to pry Ligothe off, but his stone claws were deep in the warrior’s flesh as he chewed into the Northmen’s head.

The last warrior made a mad dash for us. “Come out! I see you. If you don’t move, you’re dead meat.”

Getting up with my blade in hand, I felt a hand pull on me, but it was too late.

“Found you!” Yelled the Northman.

Shit, I fell for it.

Keeping the enemy’s blade square in my sights like, I’d learned with Damin, I parried his first blow, but—

ARGH! A cold and sharp pang spread from my stomach. Looking down, he had a knife and it was in me.

“Some kind of trapping class, you have?” He cursed me and stabbed me again, and again. “For my brothers!”

I tried to bring down my sword, but I didn’t have any strength left. Was this it?

“Move!”

A hand pulled me back and a blade appeared from behind me, piercing the Northman’s throat.

Gently putting me down, I saw François’s lips move, but I couldn’t tell what he was saying…

The dungeon had been dark, but now it was pitch black. I could still feel something in my chest, but nothing else. Was it a good sign? A bad one? Who knows. Hopefully, I’d find out soon.

#

Coughing, I woke up. Everything hurt, and I tried to look around, but a notification blocked my sight.

For escaping the grasp of death, you have gained a level.

I levelled up?

That was certainly a surprise. To think I just needed to graze death to do so. I don’t think I’d ever level up my class this way. Well, if this was the kind of achievements you had to accomplish to level up like a warrior as a craftsman, it certainly explained why no one ever did it.

Staring up, a low wooden ceiling separated me from the outdoors. Spiders spun webs above me. Looking to the side, a wave of pain radiated from my stomach to my body’s four corners.

Grinding my teeth, I did my best to resist the pain, but it just wouldn’t go way. I decided to open my status hoping it would distract me.

Status

Gargoyle Craftsmen Apprentice (Level 1 class)

Level 7/15 --> 8/15

Vitality: 15/15 --> 2/17

Strength: 1/12

Endurance: 2/15

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Dexterity: 5/11

Mana: 17/17

Abilities:

Absolute order (B rank):

Extensive gargoyle detection (B rank)

Control delegation (C Rank)

Dextrous hands (F Rank)

Additional information:

Gargoyles: Ligothe

Titles: Leader of Gargoyles

Nothing much had changed. It was just a level, but it was nice to see Ligothe was still doing well. But where was he?

Looking around, I searched for the ugly fellow. Trying to focus on feeling the surroundings, I noticed a heavy weight on my chest. I didn’t dare look down, but I felt the cold touch of metal on my ribs.

“Ligothe, are you under the bed?”

Something rustled below, but he didn’t come up right away.

“Come up, you’re worrying me.” Maybe he too was injured, but he shouldn’t be kept under the bed in that case.

A few instants latter the little fellow crept up on the bed. His bright red eyes were downcast, and his little wings were hanging low behind him.

Was he feeling guilty? “Don’t worry, it’s not your fault.” I tried to cheer him up. “I shouldn’t have fallen for the trick, but it’s all good now. He’s dead and I’m fine.”

Looking up to me, Ligothe opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Just a high-pitched squeal. He tried again, but he couldn’t speak. The more he tried the harder the sadder he looked.

“Don’t worry…” I wanted to say that I’d work on him to grant him the ability to speak, but I couldn’t promise him such a thing. There wasn’t another human on this round earth with such abilities and I couldn’t throw away the hope entrusted in me by the lord.

The gargoyle still looked at me with those pitiable eyes.

“Don’t worry, I understand what you’re saying, there’s more than just words that can be used to communicate. This won’t happen again. I promise.” Carefully, I raised my hand and petted him.

It hurt, it was as if I was being stabbed again and again, but I couldn’t bare to see Ligothe like this.

Thankfully, this cheered him up and he flew up onto a support beam. Making himself small to stand guard. Carefully setting my arm down, I couldn’t help but smile through the pain.

Wood creaked. It seemed I wouldn’t get much rest.

This time it was François.

“You’re awake! I really thought you were a goner.” He ran over to my side, not nearly as worried as Ligothe. If I’d gone based on his reaction, I’d thought that I slipped and fell on my head.

But we weren’t close enough for me to say that. “Where are we?” I asked.

“Still, in the village. You’re just a tad bit too heavy for me to carry all the way to Fécamp, not to mention you’d have bled out.

“So how did you save me?”

“I didn’t do much. I just tried my best to bandage your wounds and since you were extremely weak my skill managed to take effect on you.”

“It has some healing properties, right?”

“Only if I activate that skill, it can also be negative.”

That was useful, but not when it came to head-to-head combat. Why did he think he could destroy an underground trafficking ring alone, especially with me a craftsman?

François continued speaking, “It’s just that we won’t be able to head to the dungeon any time soon.”

I chuckled, but that too hurt like hell, so I did my best to stop. “You don’t say. That’s fine, I’d probably only gain a level or two, so it comes to the same.”

“Wait, you gained a level?” asked François.

“Don’t try it, I gained it for having nearly died.”

“Oh, fair. Well, I had the time to run over to Fécamp and have the count send a healer. He should be here soon. Just don’t move and you’ll be fine.”

That was all good, but now, my mind wandered back to the church and— “YES, what happened to Isabelle and Richard?” I asked. How could I have forgotten?

“I don’t know anything about that, were those people you knew?”

“Yes, last time I saw them was just before I came to Rouen. Are they fine?”

François didn’t answer immediately. It was worrying.

“Are they ok?” I asked again.

“I don’t know, no one is showing signs of waking backup. It is possible that the drugs take a long time to wear off, but it’s also possible that it’s an effect of a class skill.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that there may be a spell or a special pill you need to give to someone affected by the spell for them to wake up.”

“And how do we find that?”

“I don’t know. But let’s not wonder too much about this. It could just take time for the drugs to wear off, and we can have the healer take a look at them when he gets done with you. But at least they’re not getting worse.”

I wanted to sit up and press him for more, but I guess this was enough for now. “Ok.” I closed my eyes. As long as their condition didn’t deteriorate, it’d be fine.

#

Eventually, the healer arrived and sealed my wounds. He couldn’t fully heal me, but I wasn’t at risk of dying anymore and he said I should be at full strength in a month or so. Until then I just needed to take it easy, whatever that meant.

But this didn’t worry, me, what worried me was the condition of my friends.

I forced myself out of bed. “I’ll lead you to the church.”

“Wait, Gregoire, I’ll bring the healer there,” said François guiding me back to bed, but I pulled away my hand. It was my fault they were here. I had to at least apologize. I was mad for what they did, and I still was, but I couldn’t see them in that state. There was something in my heart that made me still care for them and I could deal with that later.

“No, you really should stay here for a bit—”

“No,” I insisted. “I will go, and you can’t stop me.”

Pulling back, he let off, and I let the healer to the church.

Going down the stairs, the healer, an old man froze. “This is…I how would you describe this?” Shock was the least of his expression.

“Can you do anything about it?” I asked.

With difficulty, the old man crouched down next to a body. Extending his hand, he seemed to cast a spell. “It’s not a spell.”

“That’s good, no?” I asked.

“I suppose as you do not need to hunt down a mage, but I’m a healer, not an alchemist. This I cannot deal with.” Pulling himself up, he dusted off his robes. “I can recommend you one, but I do not know when he will arrive. He’s rather particular.”

“Then tell him to be quick, on the name of the duke.”

Frowning, the old healer held in his tongue. “Very well, I’ll be sure to communicate that to him. Is there anything else you wish to know?”

“Is there anything I can do to keep them well.”

Looking back, the healer thought about it for a few seconds. “Perhaps just take them out of their cages. Anything else would bring them more harm than good.”

Nodding, I let the old healer leave. Guiding him out, François left as well.

Alone, I walked back to where Richard and Isabelle were kept.

Grasping the iron bars once more, I tried my best to pry open the bars, but the only things that seemed to open were the scars on my stomach. Stepping back, hunched over, I despised my weakness. And to think I’d have to wait another month before continuing the journey. I couldn’t let that happen. I had to find a better way to gain levels.

So far, I gained levels by doing things related to combat for the first time. My first dungeon conquest, my first brush with death, and a few class-related things like the first gargoyles controlled.

What other things related to a warrior class was there left to do?

War.

War was the ultimate occupation of warriors. If there was one way, I’d level up quickly it would be that. Danger be screwed, I couldn’t bear being a worm squirming around much longer.

Running out of the church, I found François coming back to the church after having guided the healer out.

“François, you can stay here, but I need to return to Rouen.”